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diff --git a/old/33779-h/33779-h.htm b/old/33779-h/33779-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f25864e --- /dev/null +++ b/old/33779-h/33779-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10615 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Majesty, by Louis Couperus, et al</title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + +.bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + +.bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + +.bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + +.br {border-right: solid 2px;} + +.bbox {border: solid 2px;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.u {text-decoration: underline;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Majesty, by Louis Couperus, et al, Translated +by Alexander Teixeira de Mattos</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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 = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Majesty</p> +<p> A Novel</p> +<p>Author: Louis Couperus</p> +<p>Release Date: September 20, 2010 [eBook #33779]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MAJESTY***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Christine Bell & Marc D'Hooghe<br /> + (http://www.freeliterature.org)</h3> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> +<a href="#PREFACE"><b>PREFACE</b></a><br /> +<a href="#TRANSLATORS_NOTE"><b>TRANSLATOR'S NOTE</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_I"><b>CHAPTER I</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_II">C<b>HAPTER II</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>CHAPTER III</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>CHAPTER IV</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>CHAPTER V</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>CHAPTER VI</b></a><br /> +</p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h1>MAJESTY</h1> + +<h3><i>A NOVEL</i></h3> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>LOUIS COUPERUS</h2> + +<h3>NEWLY TRANSLATED BY</h3> + +<h3>ALEXANDER TEIXEIRA DE MATTOS</h3> + +<h3>WITH A PREFACE BY</h3> + +<h3>STEPHEN McKENNA</h3> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h4>NEW YORK</h4> + +<h4>DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY</h4> + +<h4>1921</h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE</h2> + + +<p>The betting-book in one of London's oldest and most famous clubs +contains a wager, with odds laid at one hundred sovereigns to ten, that +"within five years there will not remain two crowned heads in Europe." +The condition—"in the event of war between Great Britain and +Germany"—was imposed by the date of the wager, for one member was +venturing his hundred to ten at a moment when another was dining with +him to kill time before the British prime minister's ultimatum took +effect: the imperial German government had to deliver its reply before +midnight, by Greenwich time, or eleven o'clock, by Central European +reckoning.</p> + +<p>Since the fourth of August, 1914, the King of the Hellenes, the Czar of +Bulgaria, the Emperor-King of Austria-Hungary, the German Kaiser and a +host of smaller princes have abdicated and sought asylum in countries +left neutral by the war; the Czar of All the Russias also abdicated, but +was executed without an opportunity of escape. Thus, though republican +and royalist may protest that the wager was too sanguine or too +pessimistic, the challenger must have taken credit for his prescience, +as three of the great powers and two of the lesser converted, one after +another, their half-divine sovereign into their wholly material scapegoat; +by no great special pleading he might claim that the bet was won in +spirit if not in fact when the morning of Armistice Day shewed monarchy +surviving only in Spain, Italy, Roumania and Greece, in the small +liberal kingdoms of Scandinavia and the Netherlands, in the minute +principality of Monaco, in the crowned republic of Great Britain and +Ireland and in the eternal anachronism of the Ottoman Empire. And the +time-limit of five years had been exceeded by only three months.</p> + +<p>In the peaceful period, four times longer, between the publication of +<i>Majesty</i> in 1894 and the outbreak of the Great War, historians were +kept hardly less busy with their record of fallen monarchs and +extinguished dynasties: King Humbert of Italy was assassinated in 1900; +King Alexander of Servia, with his queen, in 1903; King Carlos of +Portugal, with the heir-apparent, in 1908; and the Sultan Abdul Hamid +was deposed and imprisoned in 1909. Before the year 1894 no ruler of +note had removed himself or been removed since the assassination of the +Czar Alexander II in 1881; this study of "majesty" in its strength and, +still more, in its weakness was published at a time when even the +autocrat was more secure on his throne than at any period since "the +year of revolution," 1848.</p> + +<p>If <i>Majesty</i> is to be regarded as a <i>roman à clef</i>, there is a +temptation, after six and twenty years, to call Couperus 'prophetic:' to +call him that and nothing else is to turn blind eyes to the intuitive +understanding which is more precious than divination, to ignore, in one +book, the insight which illumines all and to overlook the quality which, +among all the chronicles of kings, penetrates beyond romance and makes +of <i>Majesty</i> an essay in human psychology. So long as the fairy-tales of +childhood are woven about handsome princes and the fair-haired daughters +of kings, there is no danger that the setting of royalty will ever lose +its glamour; so long as "romantic" means primarily that which is +"strange," the writer of romance may bind his spell on all to whom +kings' houses and queens' gardens are an unfamiliar world; so long as +the picturesque and traditional hold sway, the sanction and titles of +kingship, the dignities and the procedure, the inhibitions and aloofness +of royalty will fascinate, whether they like it or not, all those in +whose veins there is no "golden drop" of blood royal. A romance of +kingship, alike in the hands of dramatist, melodramatist and sycophant, +is certain of commercial success.</p> + +<p>The strength of this temptation is to be measured by the number of +novels written round the triumphs and intrigues of kings, their amours +and tragedies, their conflicts and disasters: King Cophetua and "King +Sun," Prince Hal and Richard the Second, Louis the Eleventh and Charles +the First, a king in hiding, a king in exile, a king in disguise; so +long as he is a king, he is a safe investment for the romantic writer. +But the weakness of those who succumb to this temptation is to be +measured by their failure to make kings live in literature. Those few +who survive beyond the brief term of ephemeral popularity survive more +by reason of their office than of themselves and Jan de Witt makes +little show beside Louis the Sixteenth; their robes are of so much +greater account than their persons that the feeblest German prince cuts +a more imposing figure than the strongest president of the Swiss +Confederation.</p> + +<p>Those who stand out in despite of their romantic setting, the human, +perplexed Hamlets and vacillating, remorseful Richards, are inevitably +few; and few they are likely to remain so long as the frame outshines +the picture and the prince is labelled and left a celestial being apart, +or labelled and dragged into passing sentimental contrast with men less +exalted; it would seem that to regard a king first as a man and +afterwards as an hereditary office-holder was to waste his romantic +possibilities. This, nevertheless, is what Couperus has set himself to +do in <i>Majesty</i>; he presents his family of kings as a branch of the +human family; their dignity ceases to be stupefying when all are equally +high-born; they wear their uniforms and robes as other men wear the +conventional clothes of their trade; and, stripping them of their titles +and decorations, he paints his group of men and women who have been born +to rule, as others are born to till the soil; to marry for love or +reasons of state, as others marry for love or reasons of convenience; to +experience such emotions as are common to all men and to face the +special duties and dangers apportioned to their caste by the +organization of society:</p> + +<p><i>"... The Gothlandic family,"</i> says Couperus, <i>"... lived [at +Altseeborgen] for four months, without palace-etiquette, in the greatest +simplicity. They formed a numerous family and there were always many +visitors. The king attended to state affairs in homely fashion at the +castle. His grandchildren would run into his room while he was +discussing important business with the prime minister.... He just patted +their flaxen curls and sent them away to play, with a caress.... From +all the courts of Europe, which were as one great family, different +members came from time to time to stay, bringing with them the +irrespective nuances of different nationality, something exotic in +accent and moral ideas, so far as this was not merged in their +cosmopolitanism."</i></p> + +<p>To this "one great family" the organization of society apportioned with +one hand special privileges and exemptions, with the other special +hardships and dangers. Revolution, to these professional rulers, was +what successful trade rivalry is to a store-keeper; assassination was a +daily risk to which store-keepers are commonly not exposed:</p> + +<p><i>"... Such is the life of rulers: the emperor lay dead, killed by a +simple pistol-shot; and the court chamberlain was very busy, the masters +of ceremonies unable to agree; the pomp of an imperial funeral was +prepared in all its intricacy; through all Europe sped the after-shudder +of fright; every newspaper was filled with telegrams and long +articles....</i></p> + +<p><i>"All this was because of one shot from a fanatic, a martyr for the +people's rights.</i></p> + +<p><i>"The Empress Elizabeth stared with wide-open eyes at the fate that had +overtaken her. Not thus had she ever pictured to herself that it would +come, thus, so rudely, in the midst of that festivity and in the +presence of their royal guest...."</i></p> + +<p>It is to be understood, none the less, that she had always expected it +to come: assassination is one of the special risks attaching to majesty +at all times when one form of kingship or the whole institution of kings +is debated and criticized. <i>"When the intellectual developments or +culture of a race,"</i> wrote Heine, in <i>The Citizen Kingdom in 1832, +"cease to accord with its old established institutions, the necessary +result is a combat in which the latter are overthrown. This is called a +revolution. Until this revolution is complete, so long as the reform of +these institutions does not agree at all points with the intellectual +development, the habits and the wants of the people, during this period +the national malady is not wholly cured and the ailing and agitated +people will often relapse into the weakness of exhaustion and at times +be subject to fits of burning fever. When this fever is upon them, they +tear the lightest bandages and the most healing lint from their old +wounds, throw the most benevolent and noble-hearted nurses out of window +and themselves roll about in agony, until at length they find themselves +in circumstances or adapt themselves to institutions that suit them +better."</i></p> + +<p>So much for the race, in the gripe of growing-pains; but what of the +nurses? How little benevolent or noble-hearted soever they be, nurses +are bound by the honour of their profession and by personal pride not to +forsake their patients. In one passage of <i>Majesty</i> the crown-prince is +shaken by fundamental doubts of his own inherited right to rule; he +questions and analyses until he is brought to heel by his imperial +father who remembers that an excess of "victorious analysis" rotted the +intellectual foundations of the old order and prepared the way for the +logical French revolution. In another passage the boy realizes without +any qualification that he at least is unfitted for the burthen of empire +and that it is better to abdicate in favour of his brother or to commit +suicide than to play Atlas with a world that he cannot sustain; once +more, his imperial father silences any admission that his own flesh and +blood can be too degenerate for the task of majesty. And so, at the +moral sword-point, this hereditary nurse is held to the duty and +privilege of standing by an hereditary patient whom he cannot relieve +with "the most healing lint" and who may at any moment throw him out of +window.</p> + +<p>Not even in thought may majesty abdicate: a prince inherits his +philosophy as he inherits his title.</p> + +<p><i>"Life is so simple,"</i> proclaims the collectivist Zanti.</p> + +<p><i>"'As you picture it, but not in reality,' objected Herman.</i></p> + +<p><i>"Zanti looked at him angrily, stopped still, to be able to talk with +greater ease, and, passionately, violently, exclaimed:</i></p> + +<p><i>"'And do you in reality find it better than I picture it? I do not, +sir, and I hope to turn my picture into reality. You and yours once, +ages ago, made your picture reality; now it is the turn of us others: +your reality has lasted long enough....'</i></p> + +<p><i>"Othomar, haughtily, tried to say something in contradiction; the old +man, however, suddenly turned to him and, gently though roughly, with +his penetrating, fanatical voice which made Othomar shudder:</i></p> + +<p><i>"'For you, sir, I feel pity!... Do you know why? Because the time will +come!... The hour will come. Perhaps it is very near. If it does not +come in your father's reign, it will come in your reign or your son's. +But come it will! And therefore I feel pity for you. For you will not +have enough love for your people. Not enough love to say to them, "I am +as all of you and nothing more. I will possess no more than any of you, +for I do not want abundance while you suffer need. I will not rule over +you, for I am only a human being like yourselves and no more human than +you." Are you more human? If you were more, then you would be entitled +to rule, yes, then, then.... See here, young man, you will never have so +much love for your people as to do all this, oh, and more still and +more! You will govern and possess abundance and wage war. But the time +will come! Therefore I have pity for you ... although I oughtn't to!'"</i></p> + +<p>The dead weight of inheritance, always a psychological fascination for +Couperus, becomes doubly fascinating when one generation after another +inherits an undwindling legacy of divine, ironic whim. As, in <i>The Books +of the Small Souls</i> and in <i>Old People and the Things that Pass</i>, the +children and grandchildren are born with minds tainted by prenatal +memories, so, in <i>Majesty</i>, a prenatal influence has ordered the life +and determined the fate of an infant who first draws breath as Count of +Lycilia, eldest son of the Duke of Xara, himself crown-prince and eldest +son of the Emperor of Liparia. There is no escape, no lack of heirs to +the ironic inheritance: <i>"'If it's a son,'"</i> says the empress mother, on +the morrow of her husband's assassination, <i>"'it will be a Duke of +Xara....'</i></p> + +<p><i>"And then the Emperor of Liparia ... lost his self-restraint. In one +lightning-flash, one zig-zag of terror, he saw again his life as +crown-prince, he thought of his unborn son. What would become of this +child of fate? Would it be a repetition of himself, of his hesitation, +his melancholy and his despair?..."</i></p> + +<p>If <i>Majesty</i> be a <i>roman à clef</i>, "this child of fate," with his father +and mother and sisters, had his short spell of hesitation, melancholy +and despair ended in 1918 by the revolver-shots of his gaolers. If +Othomar be not a portrait of the Czar Nicolas II., it is hard to believe +that the character was not suggested by him; though the Czar Alexander +III. died a natural death, he would seem to have supplied a parallel for +the Emperor Oscar, as Alexander II. supplied one for the liberal +emperor, Othomar XI. The fanatical Zanti has his model in Count Tolstoi; +and even the tragic romance of Prince von Lohe-Obkowitz has its +historical counterpart.</p> + +<p>But the interest and value of the book do not lie in any fancied +resemblance, among the characters, to living or dead kings; the study of +Prince Othomar does not depend on any likeness to the Czar Nicolas II.; +Couperus succeeds or fails not as a court painter, but as a great +sympathetic and imaginative artist who does or does not create, in the +unfamiliar atmosphere of a court, first the collective life and spirit +of a caste long trained to formalize its life and suppress its emotions, +then a group of human characters who stand out compelling and vital +against the posturing, shadowy kings and queens of romance.</p> + +<p>To the composition of <i>Majesty</i> go the understanding and the historic +sense, the irony and tenderness that enable Couperus in later books to +draw with unfaltering touch his exquisite portraits of old age and +youth, of men and women, in their moments of solitude and in their +reactions upon one another. Few men have stepped so lightly and surely +across the confines of the centuries and the continents; his intuition +makes him equally at home in Alexandria and the Hague, with women and +men, in the second century and in the twentieth; and it is not benumbed +by the surface inhumanity of a court. When the Archduchess Valérie had +lost her lover, the crown-prince could not understand her being able to +talk as usual at dinner.</p> + +<p><i>"It irritated him, his want of penetration of the human heart: how +could he develop it? A future ruler ought to be able to see things at a +single glance.... And suddenly, perhaps merely because of his desire for +human knowledge, the thought arose within him that she was concealing +her emotions, that perhaps she was still suffering intensely, but that +she was pretending and bearing up: was she not a princess of the blood? +They all learnt that, they of the blood, to pretend, to bear up! It was +bred in their bones."</i></p> + +<p>Perhaps it was bred in his bones, perhaps it was his mere desire for +human knowledge that gave Couperus his penetration into the emotions +which they of the blood were taught to conceal. In none of his books has +he lavished more sympathy than in his painting of Prince Othomar's +vacillation and passionate good-will, his timidity and desperate +courage; nowhere has he used greater tenderness than in his sketch of +the chivalry and gratitude which did duty for love in the passionless +union of Valérie and the crown-prince.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 26.5em;">STEPHEN MCKENNA.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>LINCOLN'S INN, LONDON, 7 <i>October</i>, 1920.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="TRANSLATORS_NOTE" id="TRANSLATORS_NOTE"></a>TRANSLATOR'S NOTE</h2> + + +<p>My first translation of <i>Majesty</i> was written in collaboration with my +dear friend Ernest Dowson and published in the year 1895. A small +edition was sold by the London publisher to Messrs. D. Appleton & +Company and has long been out of print. Messrs. Appleton, with +characteristic generosity, have relinquished to the present publishers +any copyright which they had established in the book and have thus +enabled me to produce this new version. For even a translator's style +undergoes notable modifications in a quarter of a century; and I should +not have been satisfied to see this novel reissued in its earlier +English form. The story should not therefore be regarded as a mere +reprint.</p> + +<p>Incidentally, when collating the old Teixeira-Dowson version with the +original, I was struck with the chaste and discreet appearance of the +Dutch as compared with the English edition, soiled as the latter was on +every page with a splash of capital letters. Is it some innate snobbery +or merely lack of intelligence or thought that induces English +writers—and for long myself among them—to dab a capital at the head of +such nouns as the "emperor," the "crown-prince," the "duke," the +"chancellor," "empire" and "state," nay, even the "major," the +"professor," the "doctor," or of such adjectives as "royal" and +"imperial"? If we are to write of the "Major" and the "Professor," why +not be still more lavish with our capitals and write of the +"Midshipman," the "Postmistress" and the "Postman"? Anyhow, I felt that +a suitable time had come to experiment with an innovation and I decided +to reduce my capital letters to a minimum and to affix them to titles +only when these were followed by the name. Even the Germans do not +distinguish their titles with capitals; they have the more logical habit +of beginning every substantive with a capital; and, in their murky +language, this habit has one advantage, that it assists the reader to +hunt the elusive verbs to their lair. The English have not this reason +nor this excuse.</p> + +<p>My thanks are due not only to Messrs. Appleton but also to Mr. Stephen +McKenna, the most acceptable of our younger novelists, who in his +admiration for the elder craftsman, has volunteered to write a preface +to Louis Couperus' present masterpiece.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 20.5em;">ALEXANDER TEIXEIRA DE MATTOS.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>VENTNOR, I.W., 1 <i>November</i>, 1920.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>MAJESTY</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + + + +<h3>1</h3> + +<p>Lipara, usually a city white as marble: long, white rows of villas on a +southern blue sea; endless, elegant esplanades on the front, with palms +whose green lacquer shimmered against an atmosphere of vivid blue ether. +But to-day there drifted above it, heavily, a sombre, grey sky, fraught +with storm and tragedy, like a leviathan in the firmament. And this grey +sky was full of mystery, full of destiny, of strange destiny: it +precipitated no thunder, but remained hanging over the city, merely +casting faint shadows over the brightness of its palaces, over the width +of its squares and streets, over the blue of its sea, its harbour, where +the ships, upright, still, anxious, raised their tall masts on high.</p> + +<p>White, square, massive, amid the verdure of the Elizabeth Parks, in the +more intimate mystery of its own great plane-trees—the celebrated +plane-trees of Lipara, world-famed trees—stood the Imperial, the +emperor's palace, quasi-Moorish, with white, pointed arcades: it stood +as the civic crown of the capital, one great architectural jewel, +separated from the city, though standing in its very midst, by all that +park-like verdure.</p> + +<p>The empress, Elizabeth of Liparia, sat in the private drawing-room of +her apartments in the right wing; she sat with a lady-in-waiting, the +Countess Hélène of Thesbia. The windows were open; they opened on the +park; the famous plane-trees rose there, knotty with age, +wide-spreading, anxious, motionless with their trimmed leaves, between +which a dull-green twilight shimmered upon the lawns which ran into the +distance, rolling softly and smoothly, like tight-stretched velvet, into +an endless violet vista, with just here or there the one strident white +patch of a statue.</p> + +<p>A great silence buzzed its strange sound of stillness indoors from the +park; it buzzed around the empress. She sat smiling; she listened to +Hélène reading aloud; she tried to listen, she did not always +understand. A nervous dread haunted her, surrounded her, as with an +invisible net of meshes, unbreakable. This dread was for her husband, +her children, her elder son, her daughters, her younger boy. This dread +crept along the carpet beneath her feet; it hung from the ceiling above +her head, stole round about her through the whole room. This dread was +in the park: it came from afar, from the violet vistas; it swept over +the lawns and climbed in through the open windows; it fell from the +trees, it fell from the sky, the grey, thunder-laden sky. This dread +trembled through Liparia, through the whole of Liparia, through the +whole empire; it trembled in, in to the empress, enveloping her whole +being....</p> + +<p>Then Elizabeth drew a deep breath and smiled. Hélène had looked up to +her at a certain sentence with a light stress of voice and eyes, +pointing the dialogue of the novel; this made the empress smile and she +listened afresh. The anxiety smouldered in her, but she extinguished it +with abounding acquiescence, acquiescence in what was to happen, in what +must happen.</p> + +<p>The novel which Hélène was reading was <i>Daniële Cortis</i>, a work that was +in vogue at court because the Princess Thera had liked it. The countess +read carefully and with great expression; the rhythm of the Italian came +from her lips with the elegance of very pointed Venetian glass, flowery +and transparent. And the empress wondered that Hélène could read so +beautifully and that she did not seem to feel the anxiety which +nevertheless stole about everywhere, like a spectre.</p> + +<p>There was a knock at the door leading from the anteroom; a flunkey +opened the door; a lady-in-waiting appeared between the hangings and +curtseyed:</p> + +<p>"His highness Prince Herman," she announced in a voice that hesitated a +little, as though she knew that this hour of the afternoon was almost +sacred to the empress.</p> + +<p>"Ask the prince to come in," replied the empress: her voice, with all +its haughtiness, sounded kind and attractive and sympathetic. "We have +been expecting the prince so long...."</p> + +<p>The door remained open, the lady-in-waiting disappeared, the flunkey +waited at the hangings, motionless, for the prince to come. His firm +tread sounded, approaching quickly, through the anteroom; and he made a +pleasant entrance, with friendliness in his healthy, red face and the +joy of meeting in his large grey eyes, with their gleaming black pupils. +The flunkey closed the door behind him.</p> + +<p>"Aunt!"</p> + +<p>The prince stepped towards the empress with both hands outstretched. She +had risen, as had Hélène, and she moved a step towards him; she took his +two hands and allowed him to kiss her heartily on both cheeks.</p> + +<p>Hélène curtseyed.</p> + +<p>"Countess of Thesbia," said the prince, bowing.</p> + +<p>"So you have come at last!" said the empress, with jesting discontent. +She shook her head, but could not but look kindly at his pleasant, +handsome, healthy face. "Why did you not telegraph for certain when you +were coming? Then Othomar would have gone to the station, but now...."</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders with a smile of regret, as much as to say +that now it could not be helped that his reception had only been <i>tel +quel</i>....</p> + +<p>"But, aunt," said Herman—the tone of his voice implied that he would +never have demanded this of Othomar—"I have been excellently received: +General Ducardi, Leoni, Fasti, our worthy minister and Siridsen...."</p> + +<p>"Othomar will be sorry all the same," said the empress. "He is out +driving now with Thera. Thera is driving her new bays. I can't +understand why they went; it is sure to rain!"</p> + +<p>The empress resumed her seat, with an anxious look at the weather +outside; the prince and Hélène likewise sat down. A cross-fire of +enquiries after the two families was kindled between the empress and her +nephew; they had not seen each other for months. There was much to be +discussed; the times were full of disaster; and the empress showed a +long telegram which the emperor had sent from Altara about the +inundations. Her fingers shook as they held the message.</p> + +<p>She was still a woman of remarkable beauty, in spite of her grown-up +children. But the charm of her beauty was apparent to very few. In +public that beauty acquired a hardness as of a cameo: fine, clear-cut +lines; great, cold, brown eyes, without expression; a cold, closed +mouth; before people her slender figure assumed something stiff and +automatic; she even showed herself thus before the more intimate circles +of the court. But when she was seen, as now, in the seclusion of her own +drawing-room, with no one except her nephew, whom she loved almost as +much as her own children, and one little lady-in-waiting whom she +spoilt, then, in spite of the dread which she repressed deep down in her +heart, she became another woman. In her simple grey silk—she was in +slight mourning for a relation—what was stiff and automatic in her +figure changed into a gracious suppleness of carriage and movement, as +spontaneous as the other was studied; the cameo of her face became +animated; a look almost of melancholy came into her eyes; and, above +all, a laugh about that cold, hard mouth was as a gleam of sympathy that +rendered her unrecognizable to one who had seen her for the first time +cold, stiff and austere.</p> + +<p>Prince Herman of Gothland was the second son of her sister, the Queen of +Gothland. A tall, sturdy lad in his undress uniform as a naval +lieutenant, with the healthy, Teutonic fairness of the house of +Gothland: a firm neck, broad shoulders, the swelling chest of an +athlete, the determined quickness of movement of a lively nature, more +than sufficient intelligence in his large grey eyes with the black +pupils and with now and then a single pleasant, soft note in his +baritone voice, a note that caused a momentary slight surprise and +rendered him attractive when it sounded gently in the midst of his +virility. And now that he sat there, easily, simply, pleasantly and yet +with a certain dignity that did not permit him an absolute excess of +joviality; now that he spoke, with his sweet voice, of his father, his +mother, his brothers and sisters and asked after his uncle, the Emperor +Oscar of Liparia, asked after Othomar, Thera: now, yes, now he aroused +in the empress a delicate feeling of family affection, something of a +secret bond of blood, a very solid support of relationship amid the +isolation of their respective grandeurs, the grandeurs of Liparia and +Gothland. Yonder, at the other side of Europe, far, far away from her +and yet so near through the magnetism of this delicate feeling, she felt +Gothland lying as one vast plain of love, whither she could allow her +thoughts to wander. She was no longer giddy with melancholy and dread in +that she was so high together with those whom she loved, her husband and +her children, for she was not high alone: in her highness she leant +against another highness, Liparia against Gothland, Gothland against +Liparia. It brought moist tears to her eyes, it brought a melancholy +that was like happiness clinging to her breath. The spectre of dread had +disappeared. She could have embraced her nephew; she would have liked to +tell him all this: his mere presence gave her this feeling, a feeling of +comfort and of strength; she had not known it for months.</p> + + + +<h3>2</h3> + +<p>The door was opened; the flunkey stood stiff and upright, with a fixed +look that stared straight before him, in the shadow of the hangings. +Princess Thera and Othomar entered. The princess went up gaily and +kindly to her cousin, they kissed; Othomar also embraced Herman, with a +single word. But, in comparison with the natural utterances of the +empress and of Thera, this single word of the Duke of Xara sounded +studied and smilingly cold, not intimate, and carried a needless air of +etiquette. It failed to conceal a translucent insincerity, a transparent +show that made no effort to simulate affection, but seemed quite simply +what at this moment it could not but seem, a greeting of feigned +kindness between two cousins of the same age. Prince Herman was +accustomed to this: there was no intimacy between him and Othomar; and +this was the more striking when they saw each other for the first time +after several months; it affected the empress keenly, disagreeably.</p> + +<p>The conversation again turned upon the inundations in the north. The +empress showed her children the latest telegram, the same that she had +shown to Herman; it mentioned fresh disasters: still more villages swept +away, towns harassed by the swollen and overflowing rivers, after a +month of rain that had resembled the Flood. It had caused the emperor to +proceed three days ago to the northern provinces; but they at court were +now every moment expecting his orders that the crown-prince should +replace him there, as he himself was returning to Lipara because of the +cabinet crisis.</p> + +<p>The crown-prince discussed all this a little coldly and formally. He was +a young man of twenty-one, slender and of short stature, very slightly +built, with delicate, melancholy features and dull, black eyes, that +generally stared straight before him; a young moustache tinted his upper +lip as with a stripe of Indian ink. He had a way of drooping his head a +little on his chest and then looking up from under his eyelids; he +generally sat very quiet; his hands, which were small and broad but +delicate, rested evenly upon his knees; and he had a trick of carrying +his left hand to his eyes and then—he was a little short-sighted—just +peering at his ring. He was tightly girt in the blue-and-white uniform +of a captain in the lancers, the uniform which he generally wore in +public: its silver frogs lent a certain breadth to his slenderness; on +his right wrist he wore a narrow, dull-gold bracelet.</p> + +<p>"This is the first letter," said the empress. "Read it out, Thera...."</p> + +<p>The princess took the letter. The emperor wrote:</p> + +<p>"It is heartrending to see all this and to be able to do so little. The +whole district south of the Zanthos, from Altara to Lycilia, is one +expanse of water; where villages stood there now float the remains of +bridges and houses, trees, accumulations of roofs, dead cattle, carts +and household furniture and, as we were going along the Therezia Dyke, +which—God be praised!—still stands firm at Altara, a cluster of +corpses was slowly washed straight before our feet in one gigantic +embrace of death...."</p> + +<p>The crown-prince had suddenly turned pale; he remained sitting in his +usual attitude, peering at his ring, with the trick that was his habit. +Thera read on. When the crown-prince looked up he met his mother's eyes. +She nodded to him with her eyelids, unseen by the others, who were +listening to the letter; he smiled—a smile full of heartbreaking +melancholy—and answered her with the same invisible quiver of the +eyelids; it was as though he understood that gentle greeting and drew a +scrap of comfort from it for a mysterious, silent sorrow that depressed +him within himself, that lay on his breast like an oppression of the +breath, like a nightmare in his waking life.</p> + +<p>But Prince Herman was already talking about the ministerial crisis: it +was momentarily expected that the authoritative government, rendered +powerless, since the new elections, in the house of deputies with its +majority of constitutionals, would proffer its resignation to the +emperor. The question, as always, was that of a revision of the +constitution, which the constitutionals desired and the +authoritatives—taking the side of the emperor—opposed. The Empress +Elizabeth heaved a sigh of fatigue: how often had not this question of a +revision of the constitution, which in Liparia always meant an extension +of the constitution and a restriction of the imperial authority, come +looming up during their twenty years' reign as a personal attack upon +her husband! Resembling his long line of Liparian ancestors, +hereditarily autocratic, Oscar could never forgive his father, Othomar +XI., for allowing a constitution to be passed in his more liberal reign. +And now, at this crisis, it was no small thing that they were asking, +the constitutionals. The house of peers, hereditary and authoritative, +the emperor's own body, which cancelled every proposal of a too +constitutional character sent up from the house of deputies, was no +longer to stand above them, hereditary and therefore, because of its +hereditary nature, invariably authoritative: they wanted to make it +elective! Even Othomar XI., with his modern ideas in favour of a +constitution, would never have suffered this attack upon one of the most +ancient institutions of the empire, an attack which would shake Liparia +to its foundations....</p> + +<p>While Herman was debating this, casually, his words lightly touching +this all-important question, it seemed to Othomar as though he were +turning giddy. A world passed through his head, rushing with rapid +clouds through his imagination; and out of these clouds visions loomed +up before him, pale-red, quick as lightning, terrible as a kind of +apocalypse, the universe ending in a dynamite explosion. Out of these +clouds there flashed up for an instant a scene, a recollection of the +history of his imperial inheritance: an emperor of Liparia murdered +centuries ago by one of his favourites at a court festival. Revolutions +in other countries of Europe, the French revolution, flickered up with a +blood-red reflection; the strikes in the quick-silver mines of the +eastern provinces grinned at him out of them, out of the clouds, the +world of clouds storming through his thoughts.... And so many more, so +many more, all so rapid, with the rapidity of their lightning-flashes; +he could not grasp them, the ruddy lightning-flashes; it all just +flickered through him and then away: it flickered away, far away!... And +it seemed strange to him that he was sitting there, in his mother's +drawing-room, with the stately park swarming behind the plate-glass +windows, with tints of old, medieval gold-leather, now, in the lowered +gleam of the sun-rays; with his mother opposite him, so sweet, so +daintily gentle in the intimacy of this short, uninterrupted meeting: +his cousin talking and his sister replying and the little +lady-in-waiting listening with a smile.... How strange to sit like this, +so easily, so peacefully, so serenely, in the seclusion of their palace, +as though Liparia were not shaking like an old, crazy tower!... Yes, +they were talking about the crisis, Herman and Thera, but what did +talking amount to? Words, nothing but words! Why this endless stringing +together of words, beautiful, empty words, which a sovereign is obliged +to string together and then utter to his subjects, now on this occasion, +now on that? No, no, they were not in his province, speeches! For what, +after all, were they supposed to express, this or that? What was right, +what was just, what was right and just for their empire, this or that? +How could one know, how could one be certain, how could one avoid +hesitating, seeking, groping, blind-folded? Even if he had a thousand +eyes all over the empire, would he be able to see everything that might +happen? And, if he were omniscient, would he always be able to know what +would be right? The constitution: was it good for a country to have a +constitution or not? In Russia: was it good in Russia? A republic: would +a republic be better? And who was right? Was his father right in wanting +to reign as an absolute monarch, with his hereditary house of peers, in +which he, Othomar, now recalled his admission, as Duke of Xara, at his +eighteenth year, with the ducal crown and the robes and chain of the +order of the Imperial Orb? Or was the house of deputies right? Would it +be a good thing to place a restriction upon absolute sovereignty? It was +difficult to decide.... The inundations: "It is heartrending to see all +this and to be able to do so little.... An expanse of water all the way +to Lycilia, a cluster of corpses in the embrace of death...."</p> + +<p>It lightened.</p> + +<p>Dull, heavy rumblings rolled through the sky; thick drops fell hard as +liquid hail upon the leaves of the plane-trees; the whole park seemed to +shiver, dreading the threatening cloud-burst. Hélène rose and closed the +open window.</p> + +<p>Then Othomar heard a strange sound: Syria.... Had they ceased talking of +the house of peers? Syria, Syria....</p> + +<p>"The king and queen were to have come next week, but they have now +postponed their visit," said the empress.</p> + +<p>"Because of the inundations," added Thera. "They are going to +Constantinople first. I only wish they would remain with the sultan...."</p> + +<p>"This visit seems to me at least to be something of an infliction," said +Herman, laughing. "And how long do they stay, aunt?"</p> + +<p>The empress raised her shoulders to say that she did not know: the +approaching visit of the King and Queen of Syria pleased neither her nor +the emperor, but it was not to be avoided.... However, not wishing to +say much on this subject before Hélène, she replied:</p> + +<p>"All the court festivities are now postponed, as you know, Herman, +because of these terrible disasters. You will have a quiet time, my boy. +You had better go with Othomar to Count Myxila's this evening...."</p> + +<p>Count Myxila, the imperial chancellor, was that day keeping his sixtieth +birthday. He was the emperor's principal favourite. That morning he had +been to the empress to receive her congratulations. The crown-prince +was, by the emperor's desire, to appear for a moment at the reception in +the chancellor's palace.</p> + +<p>Prince Herman glanced at Othomar enquiringly, as though expecting a word +from him too.</p> + +<p>"Of course," the Duke of Zara hastened to say. "Myxila will reckon on +seeing Herman...."</p> + + + +<h3>3</h3> + +<p>When, at half-past ten in the evening, Othomar and Herman returned from +the chancellor's palace in a downpour of rain, it was known among the +empress' entourage also that the government had resigned; the princes +had met the ministers at Count Myxila's; the crisis had thrilled through +the outward ceremonial of the reception like a threatening shudder of +fever. Also there was a telegram from the emperor for the Duke of Xara:</p> + +<p>"I wish your imperial highness to proceed to Altara to-morrow.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 22em;">"OSCAR."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>The telegram did not come as a surprise, but was the natural +consequence of the resignation of the government and of the emperor's +return, for the emperor did not wish to leave the scene of the disasters +without the consolation that the heir-apparent was about to replace him.</p> + +<p>After a moment spent with the empress, Othomar withdrew to his own +apartments. He sent for his equerry, Prince Dutri, and consulted with +him shortly and in a few words, after which the equerry hurried away +with much ado. In his dressing-room Othomar found his valet, Andro, who +had been warned by one of the chamberlains and was already busily +packing up.</p> + +<p>"Don't pack too much," he said, as the valet rose respectfully from the +trunk before which he was kneeling. "It would only be in the way...."</p> + +<p>So soon as he had said this, he failed to see the reason. Nor did the +valet seem to take any notice of it: kneeling down again before the +trunk, he continued to pack what he thought fit. It would be quite right +as Andro was doing it, thought Othomar.</p> + +<p>And he flung himself into a chair in his study. One of the windows was +open; a single standard lamp in a corner gave a dim light. The furious +downpour raged outside; a humid whiff of wet leaves drifted indoors.</p> + +<p>The prince was tired, too tired to summon Andro to pull off his tight +patent-leather boots. He was wearing the white-and-gold uniform of a +colonel of the throne-guards, the imperial body-guard; the chain of the +order of the Imperial Orb hung round his neck; other decorations studded +his breast. The reception at the imperial chancellor's still whirled +before his eyes; in his brain buzzed, mingling with the rain, the +inevitable conversations about the crisis, the government, the house of +peers. He saw himself the crown-prince, always the crown-prince, always +too condescending, too affable, not sufficiently natural, not simple, +not easy like Herman; and he saw Herman moving easily through the rooms +of the chancellor's palace, asking quite simply to be introduced to the +ladies, now by Count Myxila and again by an equerry. And he envied his +cousin, who was a second son. Herman did not cause the atmosphere around +him to freeze at once, as did he, with the cold imperial look of his +crown-princedom.</p> + +<p>He saw the ministers, the ministers who were about to retire, each with +his own interests at heart instead of those of Liparia. He suspected +this from their humble attitudes before him, the crown-prince, when he +had spoken to all of them.... He felt that they were only playing a +part, that there was much in them that they did not allow to transpire; +and he suddenly asked himself why, why this should all be so, why so +much show, nothing but show.... And he was suffering now, deep in his +breast; the tightness of his uniform, loaded with decorations, oppressed +him....</p> + +<p>He saw old Countess Myxila and some other ladies, whom he had seen +curtseying amid the crackling of their trains and the sudden downward +glitter of their diamonds, whom he had seen flushing with pleasure +because the Duke of Xara had taken notice of them. And the wife also of +the court-marshal, the Duchess of Yemena, who had so long been absent +from court in voluntary exile at her estate in Vaza: he saw her +approaching on Prince Dutri's arm. For he did not know her: years ago, +when she was at court, he was a boy of fifteen, undergoing a strict +military education, seldom with the empress and never at the court +festivals; he had never seen the duchess at that time.</p> + +<p>Now, in the twilight of that one lamp, with the weather raging outside, +he saw her once more and she became as it were transparent in the lines +of the rain; she looked strange, seen through the rain, as through a +curtain of wet muslin. A tall woman, voluptuously formed, half-naked +under the white radiance of her diamond necklace, that was how she +approached him: her hair blue-black with a gleam in it, her face a +little pale under a thin bloom of rose powder; she came nearer, slowly, +hesitating, in her yellow-gold figured satin, edged with heavy sable; +she bowed before him, with a deep, reverential curtsey before the +imperial presence: her head sank upon her breast, the tiara in her black +hair shot forth rays, her whole stature curved down as with one +serpentine line of grace in the material of gleaming gold that shone +about her bosom and seemed to break over the thick folds of her train +with a filagree of light. He had spoken to her. She rose from the +billows of her reverential grace; she replied, he forgot what; her eyes +sparkled upon his like black stars. She had made an impression upon him. +He thought it was because he had heard her much spoken of as a woman +with a life full of passion, a thing that was a riddle to him. His +education had been military and strictly chaste, his youth had remained +uncorrupted by the easy morals of the court, perhaps because his +parents, after a long and secret separation, known to none but +themselves, had come together again from a need of family-life and +mutual support; the Empress Elizabeth had forgiven the Emperor Oscar and +submitted to his infidelities as inevitable. Round about him Othomar had +never had occasion to observe the life of the senses. At the university +of Altara, where he had studied, he had never taken part, except +officially, in the diversions of the students; he had always remained +the crown-prince, not from haughtiness, but because he was unable to do +otherwise, from lack of ease and tact.</p> + +<p>And something in the duchess had made an impression on him, as of a +thing unknown. He felt in this woman, who curtseyed so deeply before him +with her sphinx-like smile, a world of emotion and knowledge which he +did not possess; he had felt poor in comparison with her, small and +insignificant. What was it that she possessed and he not? Was it a +riddle of the soul? Were there such things, soul-enigmas, and was it +worth while to try to fathom them? Such a woman as she, was she not +quite different from his mother and sisters? Or did his equerries, among +themselves, speak of his sisters too as they spoke of the duchess? And +this life of passion, this life of love for so many, was that then the +truth? Did they not slander her, the equerries, or at least did they not +make truth seem different from what it was, as they always did in +everything, as if the truth must always be made to seem other to a +prince than to a subject?</p> + +<p>He felt tired. And he sat on, striving in vain to drive from him the +whirl of the strange figures of that reception seen through a +transparency of rain. Before him, as though in his room, they all walked +through one another: the ministers, the equerries, Count Myxila and the +duchess....</p> + +<p>A knock, a chamberlain:</p> + +<p>"Prince Herman is asking whether he may intrude on your highness for a +minute."</p> + +<p>He nodded yes. After a moment Prince Herman entered.</p> + +<p>"You are always welcome, Herman," said Othomar; and his voice sounded +cold in spite of himself.</p> + +<p>"I have come to ask you something," said Herman of Gothland. "I should +much like to go with you to Altara to-morrow; but I want to be certain +that you don't mind. I would not have asked it of my own accord, if my +aunt hadn't spoken of it. What do you think?"</p> + +<p>Othomar looked at Herman; Othomar did not like his cool voice:</p> + +<p>"If you do so out of sympathy, because you happen to be at Lipara, by +all means," he began....</p> + +<p>"Let me tell you once more: I am doing this chiefly because of ... your +mother."</p> + +<p>His voice sounded very emphatic.</p> + +<p>"Do it for her then," replied Othomar, gently. "It will give me great +pleasure if you go with me for my mother's sake."</p> + +<p>Herman realized that he had been unnecessarily cool and emphatic. He was +sorry. The empress had asked him to accompany Othomar. He had hesitated +at first, knowing that there was a lack of sympathy between Othomar and +him. Then he had yielded, but had not known how to ask Othomar. His +usual ease of manner had forsaken him, as it always did in Othomar's +presence.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," Herman stammered, awkwardly.</p> + +<p>Othomar put out his hand:</p> + +<p>"I understand your intention perfectly. Mamma would like you to go too, +because she will then be sure that there is some one with me whom I can +trust in everything. Isn't that it?"</p> + +<p>Herman pressed his hand:</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, pleased, contented, feeling no annoyance that Othomar +had had the best of the conversation, delighted that his cousin took it +like this. "Yes, just so; that's how it is. Don't let me detain you now: +it's late. Good-night...."</p> + +<p>"Good-night...."</p> + +<p>Herman went. It was still pouring with rain. Othomar sat down again; the +chill of the rainy night pressed coldly into the room and fell upon his +shoulders. But he remained staring motionlessly at the tips of his +boots.</p> + +<p>Andro entered softly:</p> + +<p>"Does your highness wish me to...."</p> + +<p>Othomar nodded. The valet first closed the window and drew the blind and +then knelt before the prince, who, with a gesture of fatigue, put out +his foot to him and rested the heel of his boot on the man's knee.</p> + + + +<h3>4</h3> + +<p>The downpour ceased during the night; but it was raining again in the +morning. It was seven o'clock; a sultry moisture covered the colossal +glass roof of the station, as though it had been breathed upon from end +to end. The special train stood waiting; the engine gave short, powerful +snorts, like a discontented, tired beast. A great multitude, a buzzing +accumulation of vague people filled the glass hall; a detachment of +infantry—two files, to right and left; the uniforms, dark-red and +pale-grey; above, a faint glitter of bayonets—drew two long stripes of +colour diagonally through the sombre station, cut the crowd into two and +kept a broad space clear in front of the imperial waiting-room.</p> + +<p>Dissatisfaction hovered over the crowd; angry glances flashed; rough +words crackled sharply through the air, mingled with curses; a +contemptuous laugh sounded in a corner.</p> + +<p>There was a long wait; then a cheer was heard outside: the prince had +arrived in front of the station. The waiting-room became filled with +uniforms, glistening faintly in the morning light; brief sentences were +exchanged in a low voice.</p> + +<p>Othomar entered with Herman and the Marquis of Dazzara, the governor of +the capital, the highest military authority, whose rich uniform stood +out against the simpler ones of the others, even against those of the +princes; they were followed by adjutants, Liparian and Gothland +equerries, aides-de-camp. The mayor of the town and the managing +director of the railway stepped towards Othomar and saluted him; the +mayor stumbled through long phrases before the two princes.</p> + +<p>"Why wasn't the approach to the platform closed to the public?" asked +General Ducardi of the director, after the adjutant-general had glanced +at the platform through the lace curtains, curious about the humming +outside.</p> + +<p>The director shrugged his shoulders:</p> + +<p>"That was our first intention; it was done in that way when the emperor +left," he replied. "But a special message was received from the +Imperial, urgently requesting us not to shut off the platform; it was +the Duke of Xara's wish."</p> + +<p>"And how about all those soldiers?"</p> + +<p>"By command of the governor of the capital. An aide-de-camp came and +told us that a detachment of infantry was coming as a guard-of-honour."</p> + +<p>"Was that aide-de-camp also from the Imperial?"</p> + +<p>"No, from the governor's palace...."</p> + +<p>Ducardi shrugged his shoulders; an angry growl fluttered his great, grey +moustache. He walked straight up to the crown-prince:</p> + +<p>"Is your highness aware that there is a detachment of infantry outside?" +he said, interrupting the mayor's long sentences.</p> + +<p>The governor heard him and drew nearer.</p> + +<p>"A detachment?... No," said Othomar, in astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Did your highness not command it, then?" Ducardi continued.</p> + +<p>"I? No," Othomar repeated.</p> + +<p>The governor bowed low; the general's loud, gruff voice unnerved him.</p> + +<p>"I thought," said the governor, urbanely, but mumbling, stammering—and +he tried to be at once humble before the prince and haughty towards the +general—"I thought it would be well to safeguard your highness against +possible ... possible unpleasantness, especially as your highness +desired ... desired that the platform should remain open to the +public...."</p> + +<p>Othomar looked out as Ducardi had done; he saw the infantry drawn up and +the crowd behind; angry, murmuring, drab, threatening:</p> + +<p>"But, excellency," he said, aloud, to the governor, "in that case it +would have been better to shut off the platform entirely. This is quite +wrong. The police would have been sufficient to prevent any crowding."</p> + +<p>"I was afraid of ... of unpleasantness, highness. Troubled times, the +people so discontented," he whispered, fearing to be overheard by the +equerries.</p> + +<p>"Quite wrong," repeated Othomar, angrily, nervously excited. "Let the +infantry march off."</p> + +<p>"That's out of the question now," Ducardi hastened to say, with an +unhappy smile. "You understand that that can't be done."</p> + +<p>The conversation had been carried on aside, in a half-whispering tone; +yet everybody seemed to listen. All eyes were gazing on the group +surrounding the princes; the others were silent.</p> + +<p>"Then let us prolong this regrettable situation as little as possible; +we may as well go," said Othomar; and his voice quivered high, young and +nervous in his clear throat.</p> + +<p>The doors were opened; Othomar, in his hurry, stepped out first; the +equerries and aides-de-camp did not follow him at once, as they had to +make way for Prince Herman, who happened to be a little behind. Herman +hurried up to Othomar; the others followed.</p> + +<p>The princes made a movement of the head to left and right as though to +bow; but their eyes met the fixed, round eyes of the soldiers, who had +presented arms with a flash; they saluted and walked on to their +compartment a little quickly, with an unpleasant feeling in their backs.</p> + +<p>Under the colossal glass roof of the station, behind the files of +soldiers, the crowd stood as still as death, for the humming had almost +ceased; there was no curse nor scornful word heard, but also no cheer, +no loud, loyal hurrah sweet to the ears of princes.</p> + +<p>And the faces of those vague people, separated by uniforms and bayonets +from their future ruler, remained gazing fixedly with dull, hostile +eyes, with firmly-closed lips, full of forced restraint, as though to +stare him out of existence in the imperial compartment.</p> + +<p>The princes waved their hands from the windows to the dignitaries, who +stood on the platform bowing, saluting. The engine whistled, shrieked, +tore the close atmosphere of humidity under the dome; the train left the +station, drove into the early morning, which was lighter outside the +glass roof, glided as it were over the rainy town upon viaducts, with +canals, streets, squares beneath it; farther on, the pinnacles and +spires of the palaces and churches; the two marble towers of the +cathedral, with the doves nestling in the renascence tracery of the +lace-work of its steeples, standing out pale-white against the sky, +which was now turning blue; then, in the centre of the town—green and +wide, one oasis—the Elizabeth Parks, the white mass of the Imperial +and, behind that, the gigantic bend of the quays, the harbour with its +forest of masts, the oval curve of the horizon of the sea, all wet, +glittering, raining in the distance.</p> + +<p>Othomar looked sombrely before him. Herman smiled to him:</p> + +<p>"Come, don't think about it any more," he advised him, adding with a +laugh, "Our poor governor has had his appetite spoilt for to-day."</p> + +<p>General Ducardi muttered an inward curse:</p> + +<p>"Monstrously stupid," Herman heard him mumbling.</p> + +<p>"I wanted to show them," said Othomar, suddenly.... He had intended to +say, "that I am not afraid of them." He threw a glance around him, saw +the eyes of Prince Dutri, his equerry, fixed upon him like a basilisk's +and let his voice change from proud to faint-hearted; sadly he +concluded, "that I love them and trust them so completely. Why need it +have happened like this?..."</p> + +<p>His voice had sounded faint, to please Prince Dutri; but it displeased +the general. He first glanced aside at his crown-prince and then at the +Prince of Gothland; he drew a comparison; his eye continued to rest +appreciatively, in soldierly approval, on the smart naval lieutenant, +broad and strong, sitting with his hands on his thighs, bending forward +a little, looking back at the white capital as it receded before his +eyes through the slanting rainbeams....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>After four hours' travelling, Novi, in the province of Xara. The train +stops; the princes and their suite alight, consult clocks, watches. They +express surprise, they walk up and down the platform for half an hour, +for an hour. Prince Herman engages in a busy conversation with the +station-master. It is still raining.</p> + +<p>At last the special from Altara is signalled. The train glides in and +stops; the Emperor Oscar alights from the imperial compartment. He is +followed by generals and aides-de-camp: their uniforms, the emperor's +included, have lost something of their smartness and hang in tired +creases from their shoulders, like clothes worn a long time. The +emperor, still young, broad and sturdy and only just turning grey, walks +with a firm step; he embraces his son, his nephew, brusquely, hastily. +The imperial party disappear into the waiting-room; Ducardi and one of +the Gothlandic officers follow them. The interview, however, is a short +one: in ten minutes they reappear on the platform; brief words and +handshakes are exchanged; the emperor steps back into his compartment, +the crown-prince into his. The prince's train waits until his father's +passes it—a last wave of the hand—then it too steams away....</p> + +<p>Care lies like a cloud upon Othomar's forehead. He remembers his +father's words: in a desperate condition, our fine old city. The +Therezia Dyke may be giving way; so little energy in the municipal +council; thousands of people without a roof to cover them, fleeing, +spending the night in churches, in public buildings. And his last word:</p> + +<p>"Send some of them to St. Ladislas...."</p> + +<p>Othomar reflects; all are silent about him, depressed by the after-sound +of the emperor's words, which have painted the disaster anew, brought it +afresh before their eyes: the eyes of Ducardi, who knows himself to be +more ready with sword in war than with sympathy in cases of inundation; +the eyes of Dutri, still filled with the mundane glamour of the +incomparable capital. Some part of their self-concentration falls +silent; a thought of what they are about to see crosses their minds.</p> + +<p>And Othomar reflects. What shall he do, what can he do? Is it not too +much that is asked of him? Can he, <i>can</i> he combat the stress of the +waters?</p> + +<p>"Oh, this rain, this rain!" he mutters, secretly clenching his fist.</p> + +<p>Five hours' more travelling. The towers of the city, the crenulated +outline and Titanic plateaus of St. Ladislas, with its bastions, shoot +up on the horizon, shift to one side when approached. The train stops, +in the open country, at a little halting-place; the princes know that +the Central Station is flooded; the whole railway-management has been +transferred to this halt. And suddenly they stand in the presence of the +smooth, green, watery expanse of the Zanthos, which has spread itself +into one sea of water, broad and even, hardly rippled, like a wrath +appeased. A punt is waiting and carries them through ruins of houses, +through floating household goods. A dead horse catches on to the punt; a +musty odour of damp decay hovers about. At an over-turned house, men in +a punt are busied fishing up a corpse; it hangs on their boat-hooks with +slack arms and long, wet hair, the pallid, dead head drooping backwards; +it is a woman. Herman sees Othomar's lips quiver.</p> + +<p>Now they float through a street of tall, deserted houses in a poor +suburb. This part has been flooded for days. They alight in a square; +the people are there; they cheer. Louder and louder they cheer, moved by +the sight of their prince, who has come across the water to save them. A +group of students shout, call out his name and cheer and wave their +coloured caps.</p> + +<p>Othomar shakes hands with the mayor, the minister for waterways, the +governor of Altara and other dignitaries. His heart is full; he feels a +sob welling up from his breast.</p> + +<p>From among the group of students one steps forward, a big, tall lad:</p> + +<p>"Highness!" he cries. "May we be your guard-of-honour?"</p> + +<p>Etiquette hardly exists here, though the dignitaries look angry. +Othomar, remembering his own student days, not yet so long ago, presses +the student's hand; Prince Herman does the same; and the students grow +excited and once more shout and clamour:</p> + +<p>"Hurrah! Hurrah! Othomar for ever! Gothland for ever!"</p> + +<p>Behind this square the city is perceived to be in distress, a silent +distress from yet greater danger threatening: the old coronation-city, +the city of learning and tradition, the sombre monument of the middle +ages; she looks grey compared with white Lipara, which lies laughing +yonder and is beautiful with new marble on her blue sea, but which does +not love her sovereigns so well as she does, the dethroned capital, with +her gigantic Romanesque cathedral, where the sacred imperial crown with +the cross of St. Ladislas is pressed on the temples of every emperor of +Liparia. Though her masters are faithless to her and have for centuries +lived in their white Imperial over yonder and no longer in the old +castellated fortress of the country's patron saint, she, the old city, +the mother of the country, remains faithful to them with her maternal +love and not because of her oath, but because of her blood, of her +heart, of all her life, which is her old tradition....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>But, like his father, Othomar was not this time to go to the Castle of +St. Ladislas: the fortress lay too high and too far from the town, too +far from the scene of disasters. Open carriages stood in waiting; they +stepped in, the students flung themselves on horseback; the princes were +to take up their residence in the palace of the cardinal-archbishop, the +primate of Liparia, in the Episcopal, which, together with the cathedral +and the Old Palace, formed one colossal, ancient, grey mass, a town in +itself, the very heart of the city.</p> + +<p>They rode quickly on. The people cheered; they look upon them as a train +of deliverers who, they thought, would at last bring them safety. +Between the departure of the emperor and the arrival of the prince a +depression had reigned which, at the sight of Othomar, changed into +morbid enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>It became suddenly dark, but not through the sun's setting—it was only +five o'clock in the month of March in the south—it became dark because +of the clouds, the ships in the sky carrying in their tense, +bowl-shaped, giant sails water which already was beginning to trickle +down again in drops. Under that grey sky the cheering of the people rose +in a minor key, when suddenly, as though the swollen clouds were +bursting open with one rent, a flood dashed down in a solitary, +perpendicular sheet of water.</p> + +<p>Othomar was sitting with Herman and Ducardi in the first carriage.</p> + +<p>"Would not your highness prefer to have the carriage closed?" asked the +old general, helping the prince on with his cape.</p> + +<p>Othomar hesitated; he had no time to answer the general; the crowd +increased, became thicker, cheered; and he bowed in acknowledgement, +saluted, nodded. The heavy rain clattered straight down. The hard +rainbeams ran down the princes' and the general's necks, down their +backs, soaked their knees. The crowd stood sheltered under an irregular +roof of umbrellas, as though grouped under wet, black stars, filled the +narrow streets of the old city, pressed in between the outriders and the +carriage: the coachman had to drive more slowly.</p> + +<p>"Won't you have the carriage shut?" Herman repeated after Ducardi.</p> + +<p>Othomar still hesitated. Then—and he himself thought his words a little +theatrical and did not know how they would sound—he answered aloud:</p> + +<p>"No, do not let us be afraid of the water; they have all suffered from +the water here."</p> + +<p>But Ducardi looked at him; he felt something quiver inside him for his +prince....</p> + +<p>The carriage remained open. In one of the landaus following, Prince +Dutri looked round furiously to see how much longer the Duke of Xara +meant to let himself be saturated with rain and his suite with him. In +the narrow, high streets near the cathedral they had to drive almost at +a walking-pace, right through the cheering of the crowding populace. +Soaked to the skin, the Crown-prince of Liparia with his following +arrived at the cardinal-archbishop's; they left a trail of water behind +them on the staircases and in the corridors of the Episcopal.</p> + + + +<h3>5</h3> + +<p>In changed uniforms, a short dinner with the high prelate; a few canons +and minor ecclesiastics sit down with them. The room is large and +sombre, barely lighted with a feeble glimmer of candles; the silver +gleams dully on the dressers of old black oak; the frescoes on the +walls—sacred subjects—are barely distinguishable. A silent haste +quickens the jaws; the conversation is conducted in an undertone; the +servants, in their dark livery, move as though on tiptoe. The cardinal, +on either side of whom the princes are seated, is tall and thin, with a +refined, ascetic face and the steel-blue eyes of an enthusiast; his +voice issues from low down in his throat, like that of an oracle; he +says something of the Lord's will and makes a submissive gesture with +both hands, the fingers lightly outspread, as Jesus does in the old +pictures. One of the priests, the cardinal's private secretary, a young +man with a round, pink face and soft, white hands, laughs rather loudly +at a joke of Prince Dutri, who, sitting next to him, tells a story about +a countess in Lipara whom they both know. The cardinal casts a stern +glance at the frivolous secretary.</p> + +<p>After the hurried dinner, the princes and their suite ride into the town +on horseback, cheered wherever they go. The water already mounts close +to the cathedral and the Archiepiscopal Palace. Groups of men, women and +children, sobbing, flow towards the prince, as he rides across the dark +squares; they carry torches about him, as the gas is not everywhere +lighted; the ruddy flares look strange, romantic, over the ancient dark +mass of the walls and are reflected with long streaks of blood in the +water lying in the narrow alleys. A large house of many storeys and rows +of little windows appears to have suddenly gone under: a sudden +mysterious pressure of water, filtering from the foundations through the +masonry of the cellars, making its treacherous way through the least +crack or crevice. The inhabitants save themselves in skiffs, which pass +with little red lights through the black, watery town; a child cries at +the top of its voice. They are poor people there in hundreds, living, +packed as in boxes. The princes alight and step into a boat and are +rowed to the spot; it becomes known who they are; they themselves help +an old woman with three children, all wet to the waist, to climb on to a +raft; they themselves give them money, shout instructions to them. And +they point to the old fortress of St. Ladislas as a refuge....</p> + +<p>But a cry arises, farther on, a cry at first not clearly perceived in +the darkness of the evening, then at last distinctly audible:</p> + +<p>"The Therezia Dyke! The Therezia Dyke!..."</p> + +<p>The princes want to go there; it is not possible on horseback; the only +way is in boats. Prince Herman himself grasps the sculls; in the next +boat Dutri declares to Von Fest, one of the Gothlandic equerries, that, +taken all round, he thinks Venice more comfortable....</p> + +<p>"The Therezia Dyke! The Therezia Dyke!..."</p> + +<p>The dyke lies like the black back of a great, long beast just outside +the town, on the left bank of the Zanthos, and protects the whole St. +Therezia district, the eastern portion of the city, which stands +tolerably high, from the river, which generally overflows in springtime. +The boats glide over the water-streets; a landing is possible in the +Therezia Square; lanterns are burning; torches flare, ruddy +scintillations dart over the water. The square is large and wide; the +houses stand black round about it and surround it in the night with +their irregular lines of gables and chimneys, with the massive pile of +the church of St. Therezia, whose steeples are lost in the dark sky; in +the centre of the square rises a great equestrian statue of a Liparian +emperor, gigantic in motionless bronze, stretching one arm, sword in +hand, over the petty swarming of the crowd.</p> + +<p>Othomar and Herman have sent their three equerries, Dutri, Leoni and Von +Fest, for whom horses have been found and saddled, to the dyke, which +protects a whole suburb of villas, factories and the St. Therezia +railway-station against the waters of the Zanthos, which has already +poured its right bank over the country and is drowning it. The princes +stand in the middle of the square on the steps of the pedestal of the +statue; they would have liked to go on farther, but the mayor himself +has begged them to stay where they are: farther on mortal danger +threatens at every moment.... All that could be done has been done; +there is nothing more to do but wait.</p> + +<p>Quarters of an hour, half-hours, pass. This waiting for terrible news +calms them; they hope afresh. The officers ride to and fro; the villas +and factories yonder are deserted: a whole town lies empty, forsaken. +Prince Dutri, turning his horse, which he has ridden out of breath, +assures them that the embankment will hold firm; after he has spoken +with the princes, he is surrounded: it is the occupiers of the villas, +the manufacturers, who overwhelm him with questions, fortified by the +self-assurance of the imperial equerry. Dutri gallops off once more.</p> + +<p>Now the doors of the church are opened wide, quite wide; at the end of +the vista, between the pillars, the tiny lights glitter on the altar; a +procession files out slowly: a mitred bishop, priests, acolytes, singing +and carrying banners and swinging clouds of smoke from their censers; +behind the upraised crucifix, the relics of St. Therezia, in their +antique shrine of medieval gold and crystal and precious stones, round +or roughly cut; it is borne under a canopy and in the shimmering gleam +of candles it glitters and sparkles like a sacred jewel, like a +constellation, across that sombre square, through that black night of +disaster; flicker the giant emeralds, glitters the precious chased gold +and before the Most Holy the crowded populace draws back on either side +and falls upon its knees. This is the fifth time to-day that the +procession goes its round, that the reliquary is borne on high, to +exorcize the calamity. It passes the statue, the princes kneel down; the +Latin of the chant, the gleam of the relics in their shrine, the cloud +of the incense pass over them with the blessing of the bishop....</p> + +<p>The procession has brought stillness to the square, but a murmur now +approaches as from afar.... The crowd seems to surge as though in one +wave, nobody is now kneeling; the very procession is broken up and +confused. Through the throng rushes the report: the dyke has given +way!...</p> + +<p>They do not yet believe it; but suddenly from above the fort of St. +Ladislas, which spreads its ramparts about the castle, a shot thunders +out and vibrates over the black city and shakes through the black sky as +though its rebound were breaking against the lowering clouds. A second +shot thunders after it, as with giant cymbals of catastrophe, a third +... the whole town knows that the Zanthos has broken the dyke.</p> + +<p>The whole square is in confused motion, like a swarm of ants; troops of +tardy fugitives still come thronging in, poor ones now and indigent, who +had not been able to fly earlier, who had been still hoping; through the +crush Prince Dutri, panting, cursing, on horseback, terror in his eyes, +strives to reach the statue; the distant murmur as of a sea comes nearer +and nearer. Men scatter along the streets, on foot or in boats; the +disordered procession, with the glitter of its reliquary, seeming to +reel on the billows of a human sea, scatters towards the church.</p> + +<p>"Is not even the square safe?" asks Othomar.</p> + +<p>He can hardly speak, his chest seems cramped as it were with iron, his +eyes fill with tears, an immense despair of impotence and pity suffuses +his soul.</p> + +<p>The mayor shakes his head:</p> + +<p>"The square lies lower than the suburbs, highness; you cannot remain +here. For God's sake go back to the Episcopal in a boat!..."</p> + +<p>But the princes insist on remaining, though the murmur grows louder and +louder.</p> + +<p>"Go into the church in that case, highnesses: that is the only safe +place left," the mayor beseeches. "I beg you, for God's sake!"</p> + +<p>The square is already swept clean, the torch-bearers lead the princes to +the steps of the church; the Zanthos comes billowing on, like a soft +thunder skimming the ground.</p> + +<p>Inside the church the organ sounds; they sing, they pray all through the +night. And the whole night long everything outside remains chaotically +black, gently murmuring....</p> + +<p>When the first dawn pales over the sky, which begins in the distance to +assume tints of rose and grey, faint opal and mother-of-pearl, Othomar +and Herman and the equerries emerge on the steps of the church.</p> + +<p>The square stands under water; the houses rise out of the water; the +statue of Othomar III. waves its bronze arm and sword over a lake that +ripples in the morning breeze.</p> + +<p>From the Therezia Square to the Cathedral Square everything lies under +water.</p> + + + +<h3>6</h3> + +<p>"TO HER IMPERIAL MAJESTY THE EMPRESS OF LIPARIA</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 16.5em;">"THE EPISCOPAL,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 21em;">"ALTARA,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 17.5em;">"—<i>March</i>, 18—.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"MY ADORED MOTHER,</p> + +<p>"Your letter reproaches me with not writing to you two days ago, without +delay; forgive me, for my thoughts have so constantly been full of you. +But I felt so tired yesterday, after a busy day, and I lacked the +strength to write to you in the evening. Let me tell you now of my +experiences.</p> + +<p>"You describe to me the terrible impression produced at Lipara by the +telegram from here about the breach in the Therezia Dyke and how none +slept at the Imperial. We too were up all night, in St. Therezia's +Church. No such fearful inundation has been remembered for fifty years; +at the time of that which my father remembers in his childhood, the +Therezia Square was not flooded and the water only came as far, they +say, as the great iron-factory.</p> + +<p>"How can I describe to you what I felt that night, while we were hoping +and waiting, hoping in turn that God and His Holy Mother would ward off +this disaster from us and waiting for the catastrophe to burst forth! We +stood on the pedestal of the equestrian statue, unable to do anything +more. Oh, that impotence about me, that impotence within me! I kept on +asking myself what I was there for, if I could do nothing to help my +people. Never before, dearest Mother, have I felt this feeling of +impotence, of inability to counteract the inevitable, so possess my +soul, until it was wholly filled with despair; but neither have I ever +so thoroughly realized that everything in life has its two sides, that +the greatest disaster has not only its black shadow but also its bright +side, for never, never have I felt so strongly and utterly, through my +despair, the love for our people, a thing that I did not yet know could +exist in our hearts as a truth, as I then felt it quivering all through +me; and this love gave me an immense melancholy at the thought that all +of them, the millions of souls of our empire, will never know, or, if +they did know, believe that I loved them so, loved them as though my own +blood ran in their veins. Nor do I wish to deceive myself and I well +know that I should never have this feeling at Lipara, but I have it +here, in our ancient city, which gives us all her sympathy. I feel here +that I myself am more of a Slav, like our Altarians, than a Latin, like +our southerners in Lipara and Thracyna; I feel here that I am of their +blood, a thing that I do not feel yonder.</p> + +<p>"No doubt much has been said and written in the papers about the want of +tact of the Marquis of Dazzara, with his foolish guard-of-honour at the +station at our departure; be that as it may, I felt great sadness in the +train to think that, in spite of their having come to see me leave, they +did not seem to love me. I know you will again disapprove of this as +false sensitiveness on my part, but I cannot help it, my dear Mother: I +am like that, I am hypersensitive to sympathy in general and to the +utterances of our people in particular. And for that reason too I love +the people here, very simply and childishly perhaps, because they show +that they love me: enthusiasm everywhere, genuine, unaffected enthusiasm +wherever we go; and yet what are we able to do for them, except give +them money! I find this sympathy among the lowest: workmen and labourers +whom I had never seen before to my knowledge and to whom I could only +speak three or four words of comfort—and I can never find much else to +say, it is always the same—and among the soldiers, although they must +feel instinctively, in spite of never seeing me except in uniform, that +I am no soldier at heart; and also among the students, the priests, the +civic authorities and the higher functionaries. Yesterday we went round +everywhere, to all the places appointed as refuges: not only the +barracks and shops and factories, but even some of the rooms at the +law-courts, two of the theatres and the prison, poor souls! And also St. +Ladislas. From the Round Tower we had a view of the surrounding country: +towards the east there was nothing but water and water, like a sea. My +heart felt as though screwed tight into my breast.</p> + +<p>"We went to the university also. I remembered most of the professors +from two years ago, when I was here as an undergraduate.</p> + +<p>"It was a terrible scene outside the town. Oh, Mamma, there were +hundreds, there were thousands of corpses, laid out side by side on a +meadow, as in a mortuary, before the burial, for identification! I saw +harrowing scenes, my heart was torn asunder: troops of relations who +sought or who, sobbing, had found. A terrible air of woe filled the +whole atmosphere. I felt sick and turned quite pale, it required all my +energy to prevent myself from fainting, but Herman put his arm through +mine and supported me as well as he was able without ostentation, while +a couple of doctors from among the group of physicians to whom I was +speaking gave me something to smell. Oh, Mamma, it was a terrible +spectacle, all those pallid, shapeless, swollen corpses, on the green +grass, and, above, the sky, which had become deep blue again!</p> + +<p>"I have informed the municipal council, in accordance with your wish and +my father's, that you are each of you presenting a personal donation of +a million florins and I presented my own at the same time. The whole +world seems in sympathy with us; money is flowing in from every side, +but the damage is like a pit that cannot be filled up. As you say, the +donation of our Syrian friends is truly princely and oriental.</p> + +<p>"What more have I to tell you? I really do not know; my brain is +confused with a nightmare of ghastly visions and I have difficulty in +thinking logically. But I promise you, my dear Mother, to do what I can +and to do it with all my might; and all I ask is that you will send me a +single word to tell me that you are not too dissatisfied with your boy.</p> + +<p>"As my father desires, I will stay here another week; it seems to do the +people good to see us, they love us so. They were enraptured when it was +announced that after my departure you and Thera were coming to Altara. +You with your soft hand will be able to do so much that we have omitted. +How they do love us here! And why are we not always at St. Ladislas? +Though the fortress is sombre, it is bright with their sympathy.</p> + +<p>"But do not let me write to you so poetically in these distressful days, +in which we should be practical. Herman's society does me a deal of good +and I can do more when he is by my side. General Ducardi is a fine, +indefatigable fellow, as always. The others have all been very willing +and practical; and, if I may be allowed respectfully to differ from my +Father, I am inclined to think that the municipal council does what it +can. It is true, an English engineer told me that with better +precautions and a more thorough supervision the Therezia Dyke would +perhaps have held out; however, I don't know.</p> + +<p>"Herman will accompany me on my journey through the provinces. We shall +go to Lycilia and Vaza and so far as possible to the lowlands. These are +of course in the worst case.</p> + +<p>"I have just received the telegrams: the Marquis of Dazzara dismissed +and the Duke of Mena-Doni—I don't like that man—governor of the +capital! Lipara under martial law! And will my father succeed in +preserving our house of peers by this dissolution of the house of +deputies?</p> + +<p>"Dearest Mother, his eminence has just sent to ask me to receive him. I +do not want to keep him waiting and therefore close my letter hurriedly; +with a fond embrace, I am, with fondest and most respectful love,</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 22.5em;">"your own boy,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 29.5em;">"OTHOMAR."</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + + +<h3>1</h3> + +<p>The Province of Vaza also, lying to the north of the Altara Highlands, +the Alpine range of the Gigants, was harassed in parts by the Zanthos. +The capital, Vaza, was flooded. In the neighbourhood of the +mountain-slopes the province had been spared. There vast terraces of +vineyards lay, alternating with forests of chestnut-trees and +walnut-trees and olives. The glittering white snow-line of the +mountain-tops surged up against a dazzling blue sky, piercing it with +its crests and biting long pieces out of the deep azure in ragged lines; +it seemed to whet ice-teeth, gleaming white fangs, against the metal of +the firmament, which was like burnished steel. There, enthroned on its +rocks, twelve miles from the town, stood old Castel Vaza, the castle of +the dukes of Yemena and counts of Vaza, surrounded by parks and woods, +half castle, half citadel, strong, simple, medieval, rough in outline, +with its four towers and its square patches of battlements, rounding off +the horizon about it on every side and keeping it aloof. Near at hand, a +swarm of little villages; in the distance, the towers and steeples, the +huddled roofs of Vaza; still farther, in the circle of panorama that +broadly girt the towers, the wide Zanthos, winding down to hurl itself +into the sea, and Lycilia, white in the sun with its little squares of +houses, set brilliantly on the blue of the water; then a second sea: the +mountain-tops, surging away in snowy vistas and distant mists. And, also +glittering in the sun, those strange lakes on the Zanthos: the water +which the full river had vomited, the inundations....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The square castle, enclosing a courtyard in its four wings, has two more +wings added at the back, in a newer style of more elegant renascence, +and looking on the park, in which lie the ornamental basins, like oval +dishes of liquid silver, set in emerald lawns. The fallow deer graze +there, dreaming, as it were, and graceful, roaming slowly on slim legs: +sometimes, suddenly, extending themselves, their heads thrown back, +their eyes wild, they run some distance, a number of them, fleeing +before an unseen terror; others, calmer, graze on, laconically, +philosophically.</p> + +<p>The dukes of Yemena and counts of Vaza are one of the oldest families of +the empire; and their ancestral tree is rooted ages back, before the +time of the first emperor of Liparia. The present duke, court-marshal +and Constable of Liparia, has three children of his first marriage: the +heir to his title, the young Marquis of Xardi, aide-de-camp to the +emperor, and two daughters, younger, girls still, at a convent.</p> + +<p>The duchess is alone at the castle. She is sitting in a large boudoir, +built out with a triangular loggia, and looking over the park, the +basins, the deer. A breeze is blowing outside; and the rapid clouds, +which, like flaky spectres, like rags hidden beneath diaphanous veils, +chase one another through the clear blue sky, trail their shadows, like +quick eclipses, across the park, just tinting it with passing darkness, +which darkens the deer in their turn and then makes them gleam brown +again in the sun. It is silent outside; it is silent in the castle. The +castle stands secluded; within, the servants move softly through the +reception-rooms and corridors, speaking in whispers, in expectation of +the august visitors.</p> + +<p>Lunch is over. The duchess lies half-out-stretched on a couch and gazes +at the deer. She is not yet dressed and wears a tea-gown, loose, with +many folds: <i>vieux rose broché</i>, salmon-coloured plush and old lace. +When she is alone, she likes plenty of light, from a healthy need of +space and air; the curtains are drawn aside from the tall bow-windows +and the shrillness of the spring sky comes streaming in. But the light +does not suit her beauty; for, though her hair is still raven black, her +complexion has the dullness of faded white roses; her eyes, which can be +beautiful, large, liquid and dark, look full of lassitude, encircled +with pale-yellow shadows; and very clearly visible are the little +wrinkles at the side, the little grooves etched around the delicate +nose, the lines that have lengthened the mouth and draw it down.</p> + +<p>The duchess rises slowly; she passes through a door that leads to her +bedroom and dressing-room and stays away for a few moments. Then she +returns; in both hands, pressing it to her, with difficulty, she carries +an obviously heavy casket and sets it on the table in front of the +couch. The casket is of old wrought silver enriched with gilt chasing +and great blue turquoises, of that costly renascence work which is not +made nowadays. She selects a little straight, gold key from her bracelet +and unlocks the casket. The jewels glisten—pearls, brilliants, +sapphires, emeralds—and catch in their facets all the spring light of +the sky, blue, white and yellow. But the duchess presses a spring +unclosing a secret drawer, from which she takes two packets of letters +and some photographs.</p> + +<p>The photographs all show the face of a man no longer young, a strange +face, half-dreamy, half-sensual, filled with great mystery and great +charm. The photographs show him in the elaborate uniform of an officer +of the throne-guards, in fancy-dress as a medieval knight, in flannels +and in ordinary mufti. The duchess' eyes pass slowly from one to the +other; she compares the likenesses, a sad smile about her mouth and +melancholy in her eyes. Then she unties the ribbons of the letters, +takes them out of the carefully preserved envelopes, unfolds them and +reads here and there and reads again and refolds them....</p> + +<p>She knows by heart the phrases that still tell her of a strange passion, +the most fervent, the truest, the simplest and perhaps for that reason +the strangest that she has ever felt, that has surrounded her with fairy +meshes of fire. Though her eyes look out again at the deer—the sunshine +streams like fluid gold over the park—between her and the peaceful +landscape there rise up, transparent, in tenderly gleaming +phantasmagorias, remembrances of the past, the pictures of that love, +and it seems to her as though sparks are dancing before her eyes, as +though brilliant curves and scintillations of light are swarming on +every hand. She lives through past events in a few moments; then she +closes her eyes, draws her hand over her forehead and thinks how sad it +is that the past is nothing more than a little memory, which flies like +dust and ashes through our souls which we sometimes endeavour, in vain, +to collect in a costly urn. How sad it is that one cannot go on +mourning, though one wish to, because life does not permit it! Nothing +but that dust and ashes in her soul ... and those letters, those +photographs....</p> + +<p>She locks them away again and now gazes at the jewels. And she looks +well into her own heart, sees herself exactly as she is, for she knows +that she has been loyal, always, loyal to him and to herself: loyal when +their love broke like a glittering rainbow of sparkling colours on a +wide firmament and she became unwilling to see or to exist and withdrew +from the court into this castle and let it be rumoured that a lingering +illness was causing her to pine away. And she mourned and mourned, first +sobbing and wringing her hands, then calmer in despair, then ... The +deer had gone on grazing there, as though they always remained +unchanged. But she....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>She had been loyal, always: in her despair and also in what followed, in +the abatement of that despair. Then she was saddest of all, because +despair was able to abate. Then sad, because she still lived and felt +vitality within her. Then ... because she began to grow bored. Because +of all this a great despair had filled her strange soul, luxuriantly, as +with the morbid blossoms of strange orchids. She hated, despised, cursed +herself. But nothing changed in her. She was bored.</p> + +<p>She led a solitary life at the castle. Her husband and her stepson were +at Lipara; her stepdaughters, to whom she was much attached, were +finishing their education at a convent, of which an imperial princess, a +sister of the emperor, was abbess.</p> + +<p>She was alone, she never saw anybody. And she was bored. Life awoke in +her anew, for it had only slumbered, she had deemed it dead, had wished +to bury it in a sepulchre around which her memories should stand as +statues. Within herself, she felt herself to be what she had always +been, in spite of all her love: a woman of the world, hankering after +the glamour of imperial surroundings, that court splendour which fatally +reattracts and is indispensable to those who have inhaled it from their +birth as their vital air. And, at moments when she was not thinking of +her despair, she thought of the Imperial, saw herself there, brilliant +in her ripe beauty, made much of and adored as she had always been.</p> + +<p>Then she caused her stepson, the Marquis of Xardi, to spread the rumour +that she was convalescent. A month later, in the middle of the winter +season, after a great court festival but before one of the intimate +assemblies in the empress' own apartments, she requested an audience of +Elizabeth.</p> + +<p>Thus she beheld herself in true, clear truth and was deeply mournful in +her poor soul filled with desire of love and desire of the world and +humanity, because life insisted on continuing so cruelly, as in a mad +triumphal progress, crushing her memories under its chariot-wheels, +clattering through her melancholy with its trumpet-blasts, making her +see the paltriness of mankind, the pettiness of its feeling, the +littleness of its soul, which is nevertheless the only thing it has....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The duchess locks the twice-precious casket away again. She forgets what +is going on about her, what is awaiting her; she gazes, dreams and lives +again in the past, with the enjoyment which a woman finds in the past +when she loses her youth.</p> + +<p>There is a knock at the door, a footman appears and bows:</p> + +<p>"Excellency, the cook begs urgently to be allowed to speak to you in +person...."</p> + +<p>"The cook?..."</p> + +<p>She raises her beautiful face, dreaming, half-laughing, with its profile +like Cleopatra's, so Egyptian in its delicacy and symmetry, settles +herself a little higher on the couch and leans on her hand:</p> + +<p>"Let him come in...."</p> + +<p>Everything returns to her, reality, the actual day; and she smiles +because of it and shrugs her shoulders: such is life.</p> + +<p>The footman goes out; the cook enters in his white apron and white cap: +he is nervous and, now that his mistress is already frowning her +eyebrows because of his disrespectful costume, he begins to stammer:</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, excellency...."</p> + +<p>And he points with an unhappy face to his apron, his white sleeves....</p> + +<p>And he complains that the head gamekeeper has not provided sufficient +ortolans. He cannot make his pasty; he dares not take it upon himself, +excellency.</p> + +<p>She looks at him with her sphinx-like eyes; she has a great inclination +to burst out laughing at his comical face, his despairing gestures, his +outstretched arms, to laugh and also to cry wildly and loudly.</p> + +<p>"What are we to do, excellency, what are we to do?"</p> + +<p>The town is too far away; there is no time to send there before dinner +and, for the matter of that, they never have anything in the town. +Besides, it is really the steward's fault, excellency; the steward +should have told her excellency....</p> + +<p>"There are larks," she says.</p> + +<p>"Those were to go to Lipara to-morrow, excellency, to his excellency the +duke!"</p> + +<p>The duchess shrugs her shoulders, laughing a little:</p> + +<p>"It can't be helped, my friend. His imperial highness the Duke of Xara +comes before his excellency, does he not? Make a <i>chaufroid</i> of larks."</p> + +<p>Yes, that is what he had thought of doing, but he had not ventured to +suggest it. Yes, that would do very well, admirably, excellency.</p> + +<p>She gives another little laugh and then nods, to say that he can go. The +cook, evidently relieved, bows and disappears. She rises, looks at +herself in a mirror as she stands erect in her lazily creased folds of +pink and salmon-colour and old lace, stretches her arms with a gesture +of utter fatigue and rings for her maid, after which she enters her +dressing-room. Does she want to laugh again ... or to cry again? She +does not know; but she does know that she has to get dressed.... +Whatever confront a person, love or ortolan-pasty, that person must +dress, must dress and eat and sleep ... and after that the same again: +dress ... and eat ... and sleep....</p> + + + +<h3>2</h3> + +<p>Three carriages, with postillions, bring Othomar, Herman and the others +along the broad, winding, switchback road to Castel Vaza. It is five +o'clock in the afternoon; the weather is mild and sunny, but not warm: a +fresh breeze is blowing. The landscape is wide and noble; with each turn +of the road come changes in the panorama of snow-clad mountains. The +country is luxuriantly beautiful. The little villages through which they +drive look prosperous: they are the duke's property. Between Vaza and +the castle the land has been spared by the water: the overflowing of the +Zanthos has inundated rather the eastern district. It is difficult here +to think constantly of that dreadful flood and of the condition of +Lipara yonder, which the emperor has proclaimed in state of siege. It is +so beautiful here, so full of spring life; and the sunset after a fine, +summery day is here devoid of sadness. The chestnut-trees waft their +fresh green fans; and the sky is still like mother-of-pearl, though a +dust of twilight is beginning to hover over it. A lively conversation is +in progress between the princes, Ducardi and Von Fest, who sit in the +first carriage: they talk with animation, laugh and are amused because +the villagers sometimes, of course, salute them, as visitors to the +castle, with a touch of the cap or a kindly nod, but do not know who +they are. Prince Herman nods to a handsome young peasant-girl, who stays +staring after them open-mouthed, and recalls the delightful big-game +hunt last year when he was the duke's guest, together with the emperor +and Othomar. They did not see the duchess that time: she was unwell.... +General Ducardi tells anecdotes about the war of fifteen years ago.</p> + +<p>And they all find some difficulty in fixing their faces in official +folds when they drive through the old, escutcheoned gate over the +lowered drawbridge into the long carriage-drive and are received by the +chamberlain in the inner courtyard of the castle. This is prescribed by +etiquette. The duchess must not show herself before the chamberlain, +surrounded by the duke's whole household, has bidden the Duke of Xara +welcome in the name of his absent master and offered the crown-prince a +telegram from Lipara, which the steward hands him on a silver tray. This +telegram is from the Duke of Yemena; it says that his service and that +of his son, the Marquis of Xardi, about the person of his majesty the +emperor, the Duke of Xara's most gracious father, prevent them from +being there to receive their beloved crown-prince in their castle, but +that they beg his imperial highness to look upon the house as his. The +prince reads the telegram and hands it to his aide-de-camp, the Count of +Thesbia. Then, conducted by the chamberlain, he ascends the steps and +enters the hall.</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding that it is still daylight outside, the hall is +brilliantly lighted and resembles a forest full of palm-trees and +broad-leaved ornamental plants. The duchess steps towards the +crown-prince and breaks the line of her graciousness in a deep curtsey. +He has seen her bow like this before. But perhaps she is still handsomer +in this plain black velvet gown and Venetian lace, cut very low, her +splendid bosom exposed, white with the grain of Carrara marble, her +statuesque arms bare, a heavy train behind her like a wave of ink; a +small ducal coronet of brilliants and emeralds in her hair, which is +also black, with a gold-blue raven's glow.</p> + +<p>She bids the princes welcome. Othomar offers her his arm. Prince Herman +and the equerries follow them up the colossal staircase, through the +hedge of flunkeys, who stand motionless with fixed eyes that do not seem +to see. Then through a row of lighted rooms and galleries to a great +reception-room, glittering with light from the costly rock-crystal +chandelier, in which the candle-light coruscates and casts expansive +gleams and shimmers over the marble mosaic of the floor and along the +decorative mirrors, in their frames of heavy Louis-XV. arabesques, and +the paintings by renascence masters on the walls.</p> + +<p>A momentary standing reception is held, a miniature court: in their +dazzling uniforms—for it was a delightful, though long drive from Vaza +and the men had had time to change into their full-dress uniforms in the +town—the equerries and aides come, one after the other, to kiss the +duchess' hand; except the Gothlandic officers, she knows them all, +nearly all intimately; she is able to speak an almost familiar word to +each of them, while the gold of her voice melts between her laughing +lips and her great, Egyptian eyes look out, strangely dreaming. So she +stands for a moment as a most adorable hostess between the two princes, +she, a woman, alone among these officers who surround them, in the midst +of a cross-fire of compliments and badinage that sparkles around them +all. Then the steward appears, while the doors open out and the table is +revealed brightly glittering, and bows before his mistress as a sign +that she is served. The duchess takes the crown-prince's arm; the +gentlemen follow.</p> + +<p>The dinner is very lively. They are an intimate circle, people +accustomed to meet one another every day. The duchess sees that an easy +tone is preserved, one of light familiarity, which restrains itself +before the crown-prince, yet gives a suggestion of the somewhat cavalier +roughness and <i>sans-gêne</i> that is the fashionable tone at court. The +Gothlandic officers are evidently not in the secret; Von Fest, a giant +of a fellow, looks right and left and smiles. For the rest, the duchess +possesses this smart, informal manner in a very strong degree, but +moderates herself now, although she does sometimes lean both her shapely +elbows on the table. The crown-prince once more has that indescribable +stiffness which makes things freeze around him; the ease which he +displayed at Altara has again made way for something almost constrained +and at the same time haughty; his smiles for the duchess are forced; and +the handsome hostess in her heart thinks her illustrious guest an +insufferable prig.</p> + +<p>Possibly Othomar behaves as he does because of the conversations, which +all focus themselves about the duchess and concern the gossip of the +Imperial; the inundations are hardly mentioned, hardly either the state +of siege in the capital; only a single word now and again recalls them. +But for the greater part all this seems to be forgotten here, in these +delightful surroundings, at this excellent dinner, under the froth of +the soft gold lycilian from the duke's private vineyard. This lycilian +is celebrated and they also celebrate it now: even the crown-prince +touches glasses with the duchess with a courteous word or two, which he +utters very ordinarily, but which they seem to think a most witty +compliment, for they all laugh with flattering approbation, with glances +of intelligence; and the duchess herself no longer thinks him so +insufferable, but beams upon him with her full and radiant laugh. But +what has he said? He is astounded at himself and at their laughter. He +intended nothing but a commonplace; and....</p> + +<p>But he remembers: it is always like that; and he now understands. And he +thinks them feeble and turns to Ducardi and Von Fest; he forces the +conversation and suddenly begins to talk volubly about the condition of +the town of Vaza, which also has suffered greatly. Then about Altara. He +gives the duchess a long description of the bursting of the Therezia +Dyke. The duchess thinks him a queer boy; for an instant she fancies +that he is posing; then she decides that for some reason or other he is +a little shy; then she thinks that he has fine, soft eyes, looking up +like that under his eyelids, and that he has a pleasant way of telling +things. She turns right round to him, forgets the officers around her, +asks questions and, with her elbows on the table and a goblet of +lycilian in her hand, she listens attentively, hangs on the young +imperial lips and feels an emotion. This emotion comes because he is so +young and august and has those eyes and that voice. She is attracted by +his hands, with their broad, delicate shape, as of an old strength of +race that is wearing out; she notices that he looks now and then at his +ring. And, becoming serious, she talks of the dreadful times, of all +those thousands of poor people without a roof over their heads, without +anything.... This is, however, only the second moment that she has +thought of those thousands; the first was that short half-hour when the +duke's chaplain was asking her for money and how she wished it +bestowed.... She remembers that, at the time of this conversation with +the chaplain, a cutter from Worth's was waiting for her to try on the +very dress which she is now wearing and she thinks that life's accidents +are really most interesting. She knows, in her inner consciousness, that +this philosophy is as the froth of champagne and she herself laughs at +it. Then she again listens attentively to Othomar, who is still telling +of the nocturnal watch in St. Therezia's Church. The officers have grown +quiet and are listening too. His imperial highness has made himself the +centre of conversation and dethroned the duchess. She has noticed this +too, thinks it strange of him but nice, above all does not know what she +wants of him and is charmed.</p> + + + +<h3>3</h3> + +<p>After dinner a cosy gathering in two small drawing-rooms. One of them +contains a billiard-table; and the duchess herself, gracefully pointing +her cue, which she holds in her jewelled fingers, plays a game with +Prince Herman, Leoni and young Thesbia. Sometimes, in aiming, she hangs +over the green table with an incredible suppleness in her heavy lines; +and the beautiful Carrara breast heaves the Venetian lace and the black +velvet up and down at each rapid movement. In the other room, under a +lamp of draped lace, Othomar and General Ducardi and the Gothlandic +equerries are attentively engaged in studying on an accurately detailed +ordnance-map the route which they are to follow to-morrow on horseback to +the inundated villages. The steward and a footman go round with coffee +and liqueurs.</p> + +<p>When the game of billiards is over, the duchess comes into the next room +with her gentlemen, laughing merrily. The prince and his officers look +up, politely smiling, from their map, but she, bewitchingly:</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't let me disturb you, highness!..."</p> + +<p>She takes Dutri's arm for a stroll on the terrace outside. The doors are +open, the weather is delicious: it is a little cool. The steward hangs a +fur cloak over her bare shoulders. On the long terrace outside she walks +with Dutri to and fro, to and fro, constantly passing the open doors and +as constantly throwing a glance to the group under the lamp: bent heads +and fingers that point with a pencil. Her step is light on the arm of +the elegant equerry; her train rustles gaily behind her. She talks +vivaciously, asks Dutri:</p> + +<p>"How are you enjoying your tour?"</p> + +<p>"Bored to death! Nothing and nobody amusing, except the primate's +secretary!... Those Gothlanders are bores and so terribly provincial! +And it's tiring too, all this toiling about! You see, I look upon it as +war and so I manage to carry on; if I were to look upon it as times of +peace, I should never pull through. Fortunately our reception has been +tolerably decent everywhere. Oh, there is no doubt the crown-prince is +making himself popular...."</p> + +<p>"A nice boy," she says, interrupting him. "I had hardly seen him for a +long time since, when he was studying at Altara; after that I only +remember seeing him once or twice at the Imperial, shot up from a child +like an asparagus-stalk and yet a mere lad. I remember it still: he +flushed when I curtseyed to him. Then again lately, at Myxila's...."</p> + +<p>Dutri is very familiar with the duchess: he calls her by her Christian +name, he always flirts with her a little, to amuse himself, from +swagger, without receiving any further favours; they know each other too +well, they have been in each other's confidence too long and she looks +upon him more as a <i>cavaliere servente</i> for trifling services and little +court intrigues than as one for whom she could ever feel any sort of +"emotion."</p> + +<p>"<i>Ma chère Alexa</i>, take care!" says he, wagging his finger at her.</p> + +<p>"Why?" she retorts, defiantly.</p> + +<p>"As if I did not see...."</p> + +<p>She laughs aloud:</p> + +<p>"See what you please!" she exclaims, indifferently, with her voice of +rough <i>sans-gêne</i>, which is in fashion. "No, my dear Dutri, you needn't +warn me, I assure you! Why, my dear boy, I have two girls to bring out +next year! In two years' time I may be a grandmamma. I have given up +that sort of thing. I can't understand that there are women so mad as +always to want that. And then it makes you grow old so quickly...."</p> + +<p>Dutri roars; he can't restrain himself, he chokes with laughing....</p> + +<p>"What are you laughing at?" she asks.</p> + +<p>He looks at her, shakes his head, as though to say he knows all about +it:</p> + +<p>"Really, there's no need for you to play hide-and-seek like that with +me, Alexa. I know as well as you do ... that you yourself are one of +those mad women!..."</p> + +<p>He bursts out laughing again; and this time she joins in:</p> + +<p>"I?"</p> + +<p>"Get out! You want that as much as you want food and sleep at regular +intervals. You would have been dead long ago, if you had not had your +periodical 'emotions'. And, as to growing old, you know you hate the +very thought of it!"</p> + +<p>"Oh no! I do what I can to remain young, because that's a duty which one +owes to one's self. But I don't fight against it. And you shall see, +when the time comes, that I shall carry my old age very gracefully...."</p> + +<p>"As you carry everything."</p> + +<p>"Thanks. Look here: when I begin to go grey, I shall put something on my +hair that will make me grey entirely and I will powder it, do you see? +That's all!"</p> + +<p>"A good idea...."</p> + +<p>"Dutri...."</p> + +<p>He looked at her, understood that she wanted to ask him something. They +walked on for an instant silently, in the dark; constantly walking to +and fro, they each time passed twice through the light that fell in two +wide patches through the doors on to the terrace. The park was full of +black shadow and the great vases on the terrace shone vaguely white; +above, the sky hung full of stars.</p> + +<p>"What did you want to ask me?" asked the equerry.</p> + +<p>She waited till they had passed through the light and were again walking +in the darkness:</p> + +<p>"Do you ever hear of him now?"</p> + +<p>"Thesbia had a letter from him the other day, from Paris. Not much news. +He's boring himself, I believe, and running through his money. It's the +stupidest thing you can do, to run through your money in Paris. I think +Paris a played-out hole. Of course it couldn't be anything else. A +republic is nothing at all. So primitive and uncivilized. There were +republics before the monarchies: Paradise, with Adam and Eve, was a +republic of beasts and animals; Adam was president...."</p> + +<p>"Don't be an idiot. What did he write?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing particular. But what a mad notion of his, to send in his papers +as captain of the guards! How did he come to do it? Tell me, what +happened between you two?"</p> + +<p>They were walking through the light again and she did not answer; then, +in the darkness:</p> + +<p>"Nothing," she said; and her voice no longer had that affected smartness +of brutality and <i>sans-gêne</i>, but melted in a plaintive note of +melancholy.</p> + +<p>"Nothing?" said Dutri. "Then why...?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. We had talked a great deal together and so gradually +began to feel that we could no longer make each other happy. I really +can't remember the reason, really I can't."</p> + +<p>"A question of psychology therefore. This comes of all that sentiment. +You're both very foolish. Meddling with psychology when you're in love +is very imprudent, because then you start psychologizing on yourselves +and cut up your love into little bits, like a tart of which you are +afraid you won't be able to get enough to eat. Practise psychology on +somebody else, that's better: as I do on you, Alexa."</p> + +<p>"Come, don't talk nonsense, Dutri. Don't you know anything more about +him?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing more, except that he has made himself impossible for our set. +And that perhaps through your fault, Alexa, and through your +psychology."</p> + +<p>She walked silently, leaning on his arm; her mouth trembled, her +Egyptian eyes grew moist:</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she said; and she suddenly made the equerry stand still, grasped +his arm tightly and looked him straight in the face with her moist eyes. +"I loved him, I loved him, as I have never loved any one! I ... I still +love him! If he were to write me one word, I should forget who I was, my +husband, my position, I should go to him, go to him.... Oh, Dutri, do +you know what it means, in our artificial existence, in which everything +is so false around you, to ... to ... to have really loved any one? And +to know that you have that feeling as a sheer truth in your heart? Oh, I +tell you, I adore him, I still adore him ... and one word from him, one +word...."</p> + +<p>"Lucky that he's more sensible than you, Alexa, and will never say that +word. Besides, he has no money: what would you do if you were with him? +Go on the stage together? What a volcano you are, Alexa, what a +volcano!"</p> + +<p>He shook his foppish, curly head disapprovingly, adjusted the heavy +tassels of his uniform. She took his hand, still serious, not yet +relapsing into her tone of persiflage:</p> + +<p>"Dutri, when you hear from him, will you promise to tell me about him? I +sometimes hunger for news of him...."</p> + +<p>She looked at him with such intense, violent longing, with such hunger, +that he was startled. He saw in her the woman prepared to do all things +for her passion. Then he smiled, flippant as always:</p> + +<p>"What silly creatures you all are! Very well, I promise. But let us go +in now, for the geographical studies seem to be finished and I am dying +for a cup of tea...."</p> + +<p>They went indoors. Busying herself at the tea-table, letting her fingers +move gracefully over the antique Chinese cups, she straightway asked the +crown-prince which road his highness proposed to take, feeling great +concern about the inundated villages, the poor peasants, agreeing +entirely in all things with the Duke of Xara, bathing in the sympathy +which she gathered from his sweet, black, melancholy eyes—eyes from +which she felt tempted to kiss all the melancholy away—bathing in his +youthful splendour of empire....</p> + +<p>Dutri helped her to sugar the tea. He watched her with interest: he knew +her fairly well, she retained very little enigma for him; yet she always +amused him and he always found in her a fresh subject for study.</p> + + + +<h3>4</h3> + +<p>It was one of the historic apartments of Castel Vaza, an ancient, sombre +room in which the emperors of Liparia who had been guests of the dukes +of Yemena had always slept on an old, gilt bed of state, raised five +steps from the floor, a bed around which the heavy curtains of dark-blue +brocade and velvet hung from an imperial crown borne by cherubs. On the +walls were portraits of all the emperors and empresses who had rested +there: the dukes of Yemena had always been much loved by their +sovereigns and the pride of the ducal family was that every Liparian +emperor had been at least one night its guest. Historical memories were +attached to every piece of furniture, to every ornament, to the gilt +basin and the gilt ewer, to everything; and the legends of his house +rose one by one in Othomar's mind as he stretched himself out to rest.</p> + +<p>He was very weary and yet not sleepy. He felt a leaden stiffness in his +joints, as though he had caught cold, and a continuous shiver passed +through his whole body, a mysterious quivering of the nerves, as if he +were a tense string responding to a touch. The week spent at Altara, the +subsequent five days at Vaza, the drives in the environs had tired him +out. During the day he could not find a moment's time to yield to this +fatigue, but at night, as he lay stretched for rest, it shattered him, +without being followed by a healthy sleep.</p> + +<p>He was used to his little camp-bed, on which he slept in his austere +bedroom at the Imperial, the bed on which he had slept since childhood. +The state-beds, at the Episcopal, at Vaza and now here, made him feel +strange, laid-out and uncomfortable. His eyes again remained open, +following the folds of the tall curtains, seeking to penetrate the +shadows which the faint light of a silver lamp drove creeping into the +corners. He began to hear a loud buzzing in his ears.</p> + +<p>And he thought it curious to be lying here on this bed on which his +ancestors had already lain before him. They all peered at him from the +eight panels in the walls. What was he? An atom of life, a little stuff +of sovereignty, born of them all; one of the last links of their long +chain, which wound through the ages and led back to that mysterious, +mystical origin, half-sacred, half-legendary, to St. Ladislas +himself.... Would that same thing come after him also, a second chain +which would wind into the future? Or...? And to what purpose was the +ever-returning, endless, eternal renascence of life? What would be the +end, the great end?...</p> + +<p>Suddenly, like a vision, the night on the Therezia Square recurred to +his mind, the thundering salute from the fort, thrice repeated, and the +mighty, roaring onslaught of an approaching blackness, resembling a sea. +Was it only a humming in his ears, or ... or was it really roaring on +again? Did the black future come roaring on, in reply to his question as +to the end, the great end, with the same sound of threatening waters +which nothing could withstand? It burst through dykes; it dragged with +it all that was thrown up as a protection, inexorable, and—with its +grim, black, fateful frown and the sombre pleats of its inundations, +which resembled a shroud trailing over everything that was doomed—it +marched to where they stood, his kin, on their high station of majesty +by the grace of God and of St. Ladislas; to where his father sat, on +their age-old throne, crowned and sceptred and bearing the orb of empire +in his imperial palm; and it did not seem to know that they were divine +and sacred and inviolate: it seemed to care for nothing in its rough, +sombre, indifferent, unbelieving, roaring profanation; for suddenly, +fiercely, it dragged its black waves over them, dragged them with +it—his father, his mother, all of them—and they were things that had +been, they of the blood imperial, they became a legend in the glory of +the new day that rose over the black sea....</p> + +<p>His ancestors stared at him and they seemed to him to be spectres, +themselves legends, falsities against which tradition would no longer +act as a protection. They seemed to him like ghosts, enemies.... He +opened wider his burning eyes upon their stiff, trained and robed or +harnessed figures, which seemed to step towards him from the eight +panels of the walls, in order to stifle him in their midst, to oppress +him in a narrow circle of nightmare on his panting breast, with iron +knees forcing the breath out of his lungs, with iron hands crushing his +head, from which the sweat trickled over his temples.</p> + +<p>Then he felt afraid, like a little child that has been told creepy +stories, afraid of those ghosts of emperors, afraid of the glimpses of +visions which again flashed pictures of the inundations before him: the +meadow with the corpses, the men in the punt fishing up the woman. The +corpses began suddenly to come to life, to burst out laughing, with +slits of mouths and hollow eyes, as though they had been making a fool +of him, as though there had been no inundations; and the dusk of the +bed-chamber, filled with emperors, pressed down upon him as with +atmospheres of nitrogen.</p> + +<p>"Andro! Andro!" he cried, in a smothered utterance and then louder, as +though in mortal anguish, "Andro! Andro!..."</p> + +<p>The door at the end of the room was thrown open; the valet entered, +alarmed, in his night-clothes. The reality of his presence broke through +the enchantment of the night and exorcized the ghosts back into +portraits.</p> + +<p>"Highness!..."</p> + +<p>"Andro, come here...."</p> + +<p>"Highness, what's the matter?... How you frightened me, highness! What +is it?... I thought...."</p> + +<p>"What, Andro?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, highness. Your voice sounded so terribly hoarse! What's the +matter?..."</p> + +<p>"I don't know, Andro: I am ill, I think; I can't sleep...."</p> + +<p>The man wiped Othomar's clammy forehead with a handkerchief:</p> + +<p>"Will your highness have anything to drink? A glass of water?..."</p> + +<p>"No, thank you, thank you.... Andro, can you come and sleep in here?"</p> + +<p>"If you wish it, highness...."</p> + +<p>"Yes, here, at the foot of my bed. I believe I'm not very well, +Andro.... Bring your pillow in here."</p> + +<p>The man looked at him. He was not much older than his prince. He had +waited on him from childhood and worshipped him with the worship of a +subject for majesty; he felt wholly bound to him, tied to him; he knew +that the prince was not strong, but also that he never complained....</p> + +<p>Growing suddenly angry, he turned to go to his room and fetch his +pillow:</p> + +<p>"No wonder, when they fag and tire you like this!" he cried, unable any +longer to restrain his fury. "General Ducardi no doubt thinks that you +have the same tough hide as himself!"</p> + +<p>Muttering in his moustache, he went away, returned with his pillow and +laid it on the step of the bed of state:</p> + +<p>"Are you feverish?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No ... yes, perhaps a little. It will pass off, Andro. I ... I am...."</p> + +<p>He dared not say it.</p> + +<p>"I am a little nervous," he continued; and his eyes went anxiously round +the room, where the emperors were once more standing quiet.</p> + +<p>"Would you like a doctor fetched from Vaza?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, Andro, by no means. What are you thinking of, to make such a +disturbance in the middle of the night? Go to sleep now, down there...."</p> + +<p>"Will you try to sleep also then, my 'princie'?" he asked, with the +endearing diminutive which in his language sounded like a caress.</p> + +<p>Othomar nodded with a smile and suffered him to shake up his pillows +after the manner of a nurse.</p> + +<p>"What a bed!" muttered Andro. "It might be a monument in a cemetery!..."</p> + +<p>Then he lay down again, but did not sleep; he stayed awake. And, when +Othomar asked, after an interval:</p> + +<p>"Are you asleep, Andro?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, your highness," he answered, "nearly."</p> + +<p>"Is there anything murmuring in the distance? Is it water or ... or is +it my fancy?"</p> + +<p>The man listened:</p> + +<p>"I can hear nothing, highness.... You must be a little feverish."</p> + +<p>"Take a chair and come and sit by the head of the bed...."</p> + +<p>The man did as he was told.</p> + +<p>"And let me feel you near me: give me your hand, so...."</p> + +<p>At last Othomar closed his eyes. In his ears the buzzing continued, +still continued.... But under the very buzzing, while the lightness in +his head lifted like a mist, the Crown-prince of Liparia fell asleep, +his clammy hand in the hard hand of his body-servant, who watched his +master's restless sleep in the quivering round the mouth, the jerking of +the body, until, to quiet him, he softly stroked the throbbing forehead +with his other hand, muttering compassionately, with his strange, +national voice of caress:</p> + +<p>"My poor princie!..."</p> + +<p>The dawn rose outside; the daylight seemed to push the window-curtains +asunder.</p> + + + +<h3>5</h3> + +<p>The next morning the duchess was to preside at the breakfast-table: she +was in the dining-room with all the gentlemen when Othomar entered, as +the last, with Dutri. His uniform of blue, white and silver fitted him +tightly; and he saluted, smilingly, but a little stiffly, while Herman +shook hands with him and the others bowed, the duchess curtseying +deeply.</p> + +<p>"How pale the prince looks!" Leoni said to Ducardi.</p> + +<p>It was true: the prince looked very pale; his eyes were dull, but he +bore himself manfully, ate a little fish, trifled with a salmi of game. +Yet the prince's fatigue was so evident that Ducardi asked him, softly, +across the table:</p> + +<p>"Is your highness not feeling well?..."</p> + +<p>All eyes were raised to Othomar. He wished to give the lie to their +sympathy:</p> + +<p>"I'm all right," he replied.</p> + +<p>"Did your highness have a bad night?" continued Ducardi.</p> + +<p>"Not very good," Othomar was compelled to acknowledge, with a smile.</p> + +<p>The conversation continued, the duchess gave it a new turn; but after +breakfast, on the point of departure—the horses stood saddled in the +courtyard—Ducardi said, bluntly:</p> + +<p>"We should do better not to go, highness."</p> + +<p>Othomar was astonished, refused to understand.</p> + +<p>"You look a little fatigued, highness," added Ducardi, shortly; and, +more softly, deprecatingly, "And it's not surprising either, that the +last few days have been too much for you. If your highness will permit +me, I would recommend you to take a rest to-day."</p> + +<p>Already a soft feeling of relaxation overcame the prince; he felt too +much delighted at this idea of rest to continue his resistance. Yet his +conscience pricked him at the thought of his father: a feeling of shame +in case the emperor should hear of his exhaustion, which seemed so +clearly evident.</p> + +<p>And he absolutely insisted that the expedition should not be abandoned +altogether. He yielded to Ducardi in so far as not to go himself and to +take repose, provided that they thought he needed it; but he urgently +begged Prince Herman and the others to follow the route planned out for +that day and to go. And this he said with youthful haughtiness, already +relieved at the thought of the day of repose before him—a whole day, +unexpectedly!—but above all afraid of allowing his joy to be perceived +and therefore sulking a little, as though he wished to go too, as though +he thought General Ducardi foolish, with his advice....</p> + +<p>The gentlemen went. The duchess herself conducted Othomar to the west +wing, pressed him to rest in her own boudoir. Through the windows of the +gallery Othomar saw Herman and the others riding away; he followed them +for an instant with his eyes, then went on with the duchess and across +the courtyard saw a groom lead back to the stables the horse that had +been saddled for him, patting its neck. He was still disturbed by +mingled emotions: the pleasant anticipation of resting, a little anxiety +lest he should betray himself, a certain feeling of shame....</p> + +<p>In the boudoir the duchess left him alone. It was quiet there; outside, +the lordly fallow-deer grazed peacefully. The repose of the boudoir of a +woman of the world, with the rich, silent drapery of silken stuffs, the +inviting luxury of soft furniture, the calm brilliancy of ornaments each +a costly object of art, surrounded him with a hushed breathlessness, +like a haze of muslin, fragrant with an indefinable, gentle emanation, +which was that woman's very perfume. The indolence of this present +moment suddenly overwhelmed Othomar, a little strangely, and dissolved +his thoughts in gentle bewilderment. He felt like a runaway horse that +has suddenly been pulled up and stands still.</p> + +<p>He sat down for a minute and looked out at the deer. Then he rose, +reflected whether he should ring and thought better to look round for +himself. On the duchess' little writing-table—Japanese lacquer inlaid +with mother-of-pearl landscapes and ivory storks—he found a sheet of +paper, a pencil.</p> + +<p>And he wrote:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">"To HER MAJESTY ELIZABETH</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 10em;">"EMPRESS OF LIPARIA.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 17em;">"CASTEL VAZA,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 16.5em;">"—<i>April</i>, 18—.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"Pray do not be alarmed if the newspapers exaggerate and say that I am +ill. I was a little fatigued and Ducardi advised me to rest to-day. +Herman and the others have gone on; to-morrow I hope myself to lead our +second expedition from here. The day after that we go to Lycilia.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 31em;">"OTHOMAR."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Then he rang and, when the footman appeared:</p> + +<p>"My valet, Andro."</p> + +<p>In a few moments Andro appeared. "Ask for a horse, Andro," said Othomar, +"ride to Vaza and dispatch this telegram as quickly as you can to her +majesty the empress...."</p> + +<p>Andro went out and the strange, indolent vacancy overcame Othomar once +more. The sun shone over the park, the deer gleamed with coats like +cigar-coloured satin. The last fortnight passed once more before +Othomar's eyes. And it was as though, in the vistas of that very short +past, he saw spreading out like one great whole, one vast picture of +human distress, the misery which he had beheld and endeavoured to +soften. And the great affliction that filled the land made his heart +beat full of pity. A slack feeling of melancholy, that there was so much +affliction and that he was so impotent, once more rose within him, as it +never failed to do when he was alone and able to reflect. Then he felt +himself small, insignificant, fit for nothing; and something in his soul +fell feebly, helplessly from a factitious height, without energy and +without will. Then that something lay there in despair and upon it, +heavy with all its sorrow, the whole empire, crushing it with its +weight.</p> + +<p>Serious strikes had broken out in the eastern quicksilver-mines, beyond +the Gigants. He remembered once making a journey there and suffering +when he saw the strange, ashy-pale faces of the workmen, who stared at +him with great, hollow eyes and who underwent a slow death through their +own livelihood, in a poisonous atmosphere. And he knew that what he had +then seen was a holiday sight, the most prosperous sight that they were +able to show him; that he would never see the black depths of their +wretchedness, because he was the crown-prince. And he could do nothing +for them and, if they raised their heads still more fiercely than they +were doing now, the troops, which had already started for the district, +would shoot them down like dogs.</p> + +<p>He panted loudly, as though to pant away the weight upon his chest, but +it fell back again. The image of his father came before his mind, high, +certain, conscious of himself, unwavering, always knowing what to do, +confident that majesty was infallible, writing signatures with big, firm +letters, curtly: "Oscar." Everything signed like that, "Oscar," was +immaculate in its righteousness as fate itself. How different was he, +the son! Then did the old race of might and authority begin to yield +with him, as with a sudden crack of the spine, an exhaustion of the +marrow?</p> + +<p>Then he saw his mother, a Roumanian princess, loving her near ones so +dearly; womanliness, motherliness personified, in their small circle; to +the people, haughty, inaccessible, tactless as he was, unpopular, as he +was, too, at least in Lipara and the southern part of the empire. He +knew it: beneath that rigid inaccessibility she concealed her terror, +terror when she sat in an open carriage, at the theatre, at ceremonial +functions, or in church, or even at visits to charitable institutions. +This terror had killed within her all her great love for humanity and +had morbidly concentrated her soul, which was inclined by nature to take +a wider outlook, upon love for that small circle of theirs. And beneath +this terror hid her acquiescence, her expectation of the catastrophe, +the upheaval in which she and hers were to perish!...</p> + +<p>He was their son, the heir to their throne: whence did he derive his +impotent hesitation, which his father did not possess, and his love for +their people, which his mother no longer possessed? His ancestors he +knew only by what history had taught him: in the earlier middle-ages, +barbarian, cruel; later, displaying a refined sensuality; one monarch, a +weakling, ruled entirely by favourites, a <i>roi-fainéant</i>, under whom the +empire had fallen a prey to intestinal divisions and foreign greed; +afterwards, more civilized, a revival of strength, a reaction of +progress after decline, followed by the glory and greatness of the +empire to the present day.... To the present day: to him came this +inheritance of greatness and glory. How would he handle it, how would he +in his turn transmit it to his son?</p> + +<p>Then he felt himself so small, so timid that he could have run away +somewhither, away from the gaping eyes of his future obligations....</p> + + + +<h3>6</h3> + +<p>The luncheon had all the intimacy of a most charming <i>tête-à-tête</i>, +served in the small dining-room, with only the steward waiting at table. +The duchess enquired very sympathetically how Othomar was; the prince +already felt really rested, showed a good appetite, was gay and +talkative, praised the cook and the famous lycilian wine. When the +duchess after luncheon proposed to him to go for a small excursion in +the neighbourhood, he thought it an excellent idea. He himself wished to +ride—he knew that the duchess was an excellent horsewoman—but Alexa +dissuaded him, laughingly, said that she was afraid of General Ducardi, +who had recommended the prince to rest, and thought that a little drive +in an open carriage would be less tiring. She had remembered betimes +that a riding-habit made her look old and heavy; and she was very glad +when the prince gave way.</p> + +<p>The weather had remained delightful: a mild sun in a blue sky. The +landscape stretched wide, the mountains stood shrill and steep, pointing +their ice-laden crests into the ether. The drive had all the charm of an +incognito free from etiquette, with the prince, in his undress uniform, +seated beside the duchess, in a simple, dark gown of mauve corduroy +velvet, in the elegant, light victoria, on which the coachman sat alone, +without a footman, setting the two slender bays briskly about. The sun +gleamed in patches over the horses' sleek hides and cast its reflections +in the varnish of the carriage, in the facets of the cut-glass lamps, on +the coachman's tall hat and in the buttons of Othomar's uniform. All +this sparkle scintillated with short, bright flashes; and thus, lightly +flickering, the carriage glided along the road, through a couple of +villages, whose inhabitants saluted their duchess, but did not know who +the simple young officer was, sitting beside her. A breeze had dried +away the dampness of the preceding days and light clouds of dust blew up +from under the quick-rolling wheels.</p> + +<p>The duchess talked fluently, of Lipara, the emperor, the empress. She +possessed the tact of knowing intuitively what to say and what to speak +about, when she was anxious to please. Her voice was a charm. She was +sometimes capable of great simplicity and naturalness, generally when +she was not thinking of making an impression. Intuitively she assumed +towards the prince, to make him like her, that same simplicity which was +her nature. It made her seem years younger: the smart brusqueness that +was in fashion flattered her much less and made her appear older and +even vulgar, whereas now she grew refined in the natural distinction of +an ancient race. The little black veil on her hat hid the ugly wrinkles +about her eyes, which gleamed through it like stars.</p> + +<p>The prince remembered stories told by his equerries—including +Dutri—about the duchess; he remembered names mentioned in a whisper. He +did not at this minute believe in these slanders, as he considered them +to be. Sensible as he was to sympathy, he was won over by hers, which he +read in her intuitively; and it made him think well and kindly of her, +as he thought of all who liked him.</p> + +<p>The carriage had been going between terraces of vineyards, when +suddenly, as though by surprise, it drove past a castle, half-visible +through some very ancient chestnut-trees.</p> + +<p>"What estate is that?" asked the prince. "Who are your neighbours, +duchess?"</p> + +<p>"No one less than Zanti, highness," replied the duchess: she shivered, +but tried to jest. "Balthazar Zanti lives here, with his daughter."</p> + +<p>"Zanti! Balthazar Zanti!" cried Othomar, in a tone of astonishment.</p> + +<p>He stood up and looked curiously at the castle, which lay hidden behind +the chestnut-trees:</p> + +<p>"But how is it, duchess, that last year, when I was hunting here with +the emperor, with the duke, I never heard of Prince Zanti or that he +lived here?"</p> + +<p>The duchess laughed:</p> + +<p>"Presumably, highness, because the duke's covers lie in the opposite +direction"—she made a vague gesture—"and you never drove past this way +and because his majesty will never suffer the name of Balthazar Zanti to +be uttered in his presence."</p> + +<p>"But none of the equerries...."</p> + +<p>The duchess laughed still more merrily, looked at the prince, who was +also chuckling, and said:</p> + +<p>"It is certainly unpardonable of them not to have informed you more +fully of the curiosities in the province of Vaza. But ... now that I +think of it, highness, it's quite natural. The castle was empty last +year: Zanti was travelling about the country, making speeches. You +remember, they were afterwards forbidden by law. His name, therefore, +had no local significance here at the time...."</p> + +<p>The prince was still staring at the castle, which never came fully into +view, when the carriage, in a turn of the road, almost touched a little +group as it drove past them, against the slope of a vineyard: an old +man, a young girl, a dog. The girl was frail, slender, pale, +fair-haired, dressed in furs in spite of the sun and retaining beneath +them a certain morbid elegance; she sat on the grass, wearing a dark fur +toque on her silvery fair hair; her long, white hand, ungloved, +soothingly and insistingly patted the curly head of the retriever, which +barked at the carriage. Next to her stood a tall, erect old man, looking +eccentric in a wide, grey smock-frock: a grey giant, with a heavy beard +and sombre eyes, which shone with a dull light from under the brim of a +soft felt hat. The dog barked; the girl bowed—she recognized the +duchess as a neighbour—without knowing who the prince was; the old man, +however, looked straight before him, frowning and making no sign. The +carriage rattled past.</p> + +<p>"That was Zanti," whispered the duchess.</p> + +<p>"Zanti!" repeated the prince. "And how long has he been living here?"</p> + +<p>"Only a very short time: I believe the doctors think the air of Vaza +good for his daughter."</p> + +<p>"Was that young girl his daughter?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, highness. I have seen her once before; she appears to be +delicate."</p> + +<p>"Prince Zanti, is he not?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, highness; but, by his own wish, Zanti quite plain.... Titles +are all nonsense in the nineteenth century, highness."</p> + +<p>She jested and yet felt a silent shudder, she knew not why. She thought +it ominous that Zanti had come to live so near to Castel Vaza. +Shivering, she gave a quick side-glance at the prince. She perceived a +strange pensiveness drawing over his face like a shadow. Then, to change +the conversation and to think no longer of that horrid man:</p> + +<p>"You are looking much better, highness, than you did this morning. The +air has done you good...."</p> + +<p>She suppressed her shiver. The prince, on the other hand, remained +strange: a sudden emotion seemed to be stirring within him. When they +were back at the castle, in the boudoir, the duchess offered herself to +make the prince a cup of tea. He stood looking out of the window at the +deer, but, while she busied herself with the crested, gilt array of her +tea-table, she saw him turn pale, white as chalk—as he had looked that +morning—his eyes dilating strangely:</p> + +<p>"What is the matter, highness?" she cried, in alarm, approaching him.</p> + +<p>He turned towards her, tried to laugh:</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, duchess; I am very discourteous ... to behave like +this, but ... but that man took me by surprise." He laughed. "I did not +know that he was here; and then the air ... that rarefied air...."</p> + +<p>He put his hand to his forehead; she saw him grow paler, his blood +seemed to be running out of him, he staggered....</p> + +<p>"Highness!" she cried.</p> + +<p>But Othomar, groping vaguely with his hand for a support, fell up +against her; she caught him in her arm, against her bosom, mortally +frightened, and saw that he had swooned. A thin sweat stood on his +forehead; his eyes closed beneath their weary lids, as though they were +dying away; his mouth was open without breathing.</p> + +<p>The duchess was violently alarmed; she was mortally frightened lest +anything serious should happen to the Duke of Xara, alone with her in +the castle; she suddenly felt that the future of Liparia was entrusted +to the support of her arms; she already saw the prince lying dead, +herself disgraced at the Imperial.... All this flashed across her brain +at the first moment. But she looked at him long; and a gentle expression +overspread her face: pride, that the Duke of Xara lay there +half-fainting on her shoulder, and sudden passion, containing much +motherliness and pity, blended into a strange feeling in her soul. She +softly smoothed back his hair, wiped his perspiring forehead with her +handkerchief.... And the strange sensation became still stranger within +her, intenser in its two constituent parts: intenser in pride, intenser +in compassionate love, that of a mistress and mother in one. Then, with +a smile, she pressed the handkerchief, lightly moistened with the +imperial sweat, to her trembling lips. The soft aroma of the moisture +seemed to intoxicate her with a fragrance of virile youth.... She +thought of the letters and photographs in the silver casket with the +turquoises. A deep melancholy, because of life, smarted through her +soul; yet more of her memories seemed to fly away like dust. Then, +refusing to yield any longer to this melancholy, she bent her head and, +serious now, giving herself to the present, which revived her with new +happiness, she pressed her lips, trembling still more than before, on +Othomar's mouth. For a moment she lingered there; her eyes closed; then +she gave her kiss.</p> + +<p>They opened their eyes together, looked at each other. Earnestly sombre, +almost tragically, she flashed her glance into his. He said nothing, +remained gazing at her, still half in her arms. The colour came mantling +back to his cheeks. Their eyes imbibed one another. He felt the unknown +opening before him, he felt himself being initiated into the world of +knowledge which he suspected in her and did not know of himself. But he +felt no joy because of it; her eyes continued sombre. Then he merely +took her hand, just pressed it in a solitary caress and said, his eyes +still gazing into her deep, quiet, dark glances of passion, his features +still rigid with surprise:</p> + +<p>"I was feeling a little giddy, I fear, just now? Please forgive me, +duchess...."</p> + +<p>She too continued to look at him, at first sombrely, then in smiling +humility. Her pride soared to its climax with one beat of its wings: the +mouth of her future emperor was still sealed with her kiss! Her love +touched her inner life as a wafting breeze skims over a lake, rippling +its surface into utter silver with a single fresh gust and stirring it +to its very depths; she worshipped him because of his youthful majesty, +which so graciously accepted her kiss without further acknowledgment, +because of his imperial candour, his boyish voice, his boyish eyes, the +pressure of his hand: the only thing he had given her; and she +experienced all this as a very strange, proud pleasure: the delight of +assimilating that candid youth, that maiden manhood, as a magic potion +that should restore her own youth to her.</p> + + + +<h3>7</h3> + +<p>They dined late that evening, as they had waited for Herman and the +others. The conversation at table turned upon the condition of the +lowlands, upon the peasants, who had lost their all. The duchess was +silent; the conversation did not interest her, but her silence was +smiling and tranquil.</p> + +<p>That evening Othomar again studied the map with Ducardi, under the +lace-covered lamp. The evening had turned cold, the terrace-doors were +closed. The duchess did not feel inclined for billiards, but sat talking +softly with Dutri in the second drawing-room. She looked superb, serene +as a statue, in her dress of old lace, pale-yellow, her white bosom +rising evenly with her regular breathing; a single diamond star gleamed +in her front hair.</p> + +<p>Othomar pointed with the pencil across the map:</p> + +<p>"Then we can go like this, along this road.... Look, General Ducardi; +look here, Colonel von Fest: this is where I drove this afternoon with +the duchess; and here, I believe, is where Zanti lives. Did you know +that?"</p> + +<p>The officers looked up, looked down at the spot to which the +crown-prince pointed, expressed surprise:</p> + +<p>"I thought that he lived in the south, in Thracyna," said the young +Count of Thesbia.</p> + +<p>Othomar repeated what the duchess had told him.</p> + +<p>"Zanti!" cried Herman. "Balthazar Zanti? Why, but then it is he!... I +was talking this afternoon to a party of peasants; they told me of the +new huts which a new landlord was fitting up in the neighbourhood, but +they spoke in dialect and I could not understand them clearly; I thought +they said Xanti and I never suspected that it could be Balthazar Zanti. +So he's the man!"</p> + +<p>"Huts?" asked Othomar.</p> + +<p>"Yes, a village of huts, it seems; they said he was so rich and so +generous and was housing I don't know how many peasants, who had lost +all that they possessed."</p> + +<p>"I now remember reading in the papers that Zanti had gone to live at +Vaza," said Leoni.</p> + +<p>"I should like to see those huts: we can take them on our way +to-morrow," said Othomar.</p> + +<p>General Ducardi compressed his bushy eyebrows:</p> + +<p>"You know, highness, that his majesty is anything but enamoured of Zanti +and is even thinking of exiling him. It would perhaps be more in +accordance with his majesty's views to ignore what Zanti is doing here +for the moment."</p> + +<p>Othomar, however, was not disposed to yield to the general; a youthful +combativeness welled in his breast.</p> + +<p>"But, general, to ignore anybody's good work in these times is neither +gracious nor politic."</p> + +<p>"I am convinced that, if his majesty knew that Zanti was occupying his +castle here, he would have specially requested your highness to hold no +communication with the man," said Ducardi, with emphasis.</p> + +<p>"I am not so sure of that, general," said Othomar, drily. "I believe, on +the contrary, that, if his majesty knew that Zanti was doing so much for +the victims of the inundations, his majesty would overlook a good deal +of his amateur communism."</p> + +<p>Ducardi gnawed his moustache with a wry smile:</p> + +<p>"Your highness speaks rather light-heartedly of that amateur communism. +Zanti's theories and practice are more than mere dilettantism...."</p> + +<p>"But, general," rejoined Othomar, gently, "I really do not understand +why Zanti's socialism need prevent us at this moment—I repeat, at this +particular moment—from appreciating what he is doing, nor why it need +interfere with our visiting his huts, considering that we have come to +Vaza to inform ourselves of everything that concerns the +inundations...."</p> + +<p>Ducardi looked at him angrily. He was not accustomed to being +contradicted like this by his highness. The others listened. The duchess +herself, attracted by the discussion, amid which she heard Othomar's +voice ringing with youthful authority, had approached with Dutri, +curiously.</p> + +<p>"To say the least of it, it could do no harm just to see those huts: I +must grant my cousin as much as that, general," said Herman of Gothland, +who was beginning to like Othomar.</p> + +<p>Von Fest also supported this view, convincingly, roundly, honestly, +thought that they could do no less, having regard to the victims whom +Zanti had housed. Every one now gave his opinion: Leoni thought it +impossible that the crown-prince should visit Vaza and not those huts; +it would look as though his highness were afraid of a bugbear like +Zanti. The fact that Othomar was contradicting Ducardi gave them all +grounds for thwarting the old general, who hitherto had conducted the +expedition with a sort of military tyranny which had frequently annoyed +them. Even Dutri, who as a rule was rather indifferent, joined forces +with them, cynically, his eyes gleaming because Ducardi for once was +being put in his place. He winked at the duchess.</p> + +<p>And only Siridsen and Thesbia took Ducardi's side, hesitating because +the general declared with such conviction that the emperor's will would +be different from his son's wish; especially Thesbia:</p> + +<p>"I can't understand why the prince insists so," he whispered to the +duchess in alarm. "Ducardi's right: you yourself know how the emperor +loathes Zanti...."</p> + +<p>The duchess shrugged her handsome shoulders with a smile, listening to +Othomar, whom she heard defending himself, supported by ejaculations and +nods from the others.</p> + +<p>"Well," she heard Ducardi answer, drily, "if your highness absolutely +insists that we should go to Zanti's, we will go; I only hope that your +highness will always remember that I did not agree with you in this +matter...."</p> + +<p>The Duke of Xara now answered laughingly, was the first to make peace +after this victory; and, as to the rest of the route to Lycilia, which +they worked out on the map, he agreed with the general in everything, +with little flattering intonations of approval and appreciation of his +penetrating and practical judgement....</p> + +<p>"He may not have the makings of a great commander," whispered Dutri to +the duchess, "but he will turn out a first-rate little diplomatist...."</p> + +<p>But Ducardi was inwardly very angry. For a moment he thought of +ascertaining the emperor's wishes by a secret telegram, but he rejected +this idea, as it would make a bad impression at the Imperial if the Duke +of Xara were not left free in such an apparent trifle. He therefore only +attempted, next morning, once more to dissuade Othomar from the visit, +but the prince held firm.</p> + +<p>"You seem very much opposed to this expedition, general," said Von Fest. +"Isn't it really quite reasonable?"</p> + +<p>"You don't know the prejudice his majesty has against that man, +colonel," replied the general. "As I have told you before, his majesty +is thinking of exiling him and is sure to do so when he hears that he +has now shut himself in his castle, doubtless with the object of +stirring up the peasantry, as he has already stirred up the workmen in +the towns. The man is a dangerous fanatic, colonel: dangerous especially +because he has money with which to put his visions into practice. He +instigates the lower orders not to fulfil their military duties because +it is written: 'Thou shalt not kill.' He looks upon marriage as a +useless sacrament; and I have heard that his followers simply come to +him and that he marries them himself, with a sort of blessing, which in +its turn is based upon a text, I forget which. He is always writing +socialistic pamphlets, which are promptly seized and suppressed, and he +makes seditious speeches. And the man is even standing for the house of +deputies!"</p> + +<p>"One who abjures his title a member of the house of deputies!" smiled +Von Fest.</p> + +<p>"Oh, his doctrine swarms with such inconsistencies!" growled Ducardi. +"He will tell you of course that, so long as there is nothing better +than the house of deputies, he is content to be a member of it. And the +crown-prince wants to take notice of what a man like that does!"</p> + +<p>Von Fest shrugged his shoulders:</p> + +<p>"Let him be, general. The prince is young. He wants to know and see +things. That's a good sign."</p> + +<p>"But ... the emperor will never approve of it, colonel!" thundered the +general, with an oath.</p> + +<p>Again Von Fest shrugged his shoulders:</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless I should not dissuade him any longer, general. If the +prince wants a thing, let him have it, it will do him good.... And, if +he gets blown up by his father afterwards, that will do him good too, by +way of reaction."</p> + +<p>Ducardi looked him straight in the face:</p> + +<p>"What do you think of our prince?" he asked, point-blank.</p> + +<p>Von Fest returned the general's glance, smilingly, looking straight into +his searching eyes. He was honest by nature and upright, but enough of a +courtier to be able to dissimulate when he thought necessary:</p> + +<p>"A most charming lad," he replied. "But life—or rather he himself—will +have to change him very much if he is to hold his own ... later on."</p> + +<p>The officers understood each other. Ducardi heaved a deep sigh:</p> + +<p>"Yes, there are difficult times coming," he said, with an oath.</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered the Gothlandic colonel, simply.</p> + +<p>The princes mounted their horses in the courtyard; they took the same +road along which Othomar had driven with the duchess the previous +afternoon past Zanti's castle. Leoni had learnt where the huts lay; the +mountains began to retreat, the road wound curve after curve beneath the +trampling hoofs of the horses. Suddenly the Zanthos spread itself out on +the horizon: the wide expanse of flooded water, one great lake under the +broad, gleaming, vernal sky.</p> + +<p>"That must be they," said Leoni.</p> + +<p>His finger pointed to a hamlet of long wooden buildings, evidently newly +built, smelling of fresh timber in the morning breeze. As they rode +nearer, they saw carpenters and masons; a whole work-yard came into +view, full of busy movement, with stacks of red bricks and piles of long +planks. Singing was heard, with a pious intonation, as of psalms.</p> + +<p>Ducardi, whose custom was always to ride in front, to the left of the +crown-prince, deliberately reined in his horse, allowed the others to +come up with him; Othomar perceived that he did not wish to act on this +occasion. He thought it petty of the general and said to Thesbia:</p> + +<p>"Ask if Zanti is here."</p> + +<p>The aide-de-camp turned and put the question to a sort of foreman. None +of the workpeople had saluted; the equerries doubted whether they had +recognized the crown-prince. Yes, Zanti was there. Plain "Zanti." Very +well, he would fetch him.</p> + +<p>The man went. He was long away. Othomar, waiting with the others on +horseback, already began to find his position difficult, lost his tact, +assumed his stiff rigidity, talked in forced tones to Herman. He found +it difficult to wait when one had never done so hitherto. It made him +nervous and he made his horse, which was tugging at the reins with +skittish movements of its head, nervous too and was already thinking +whether it would not be better to ride on....</p> + +<p>But just then Zanti, with the foreman who had called him, approached, +slowly, making no effort to hurry. He looked under his hand from a +distance at the group of officers on horseback, flashing in the +sunlight; stood still; asked the foreman some question or other; looked +again.</p> + +<p>"The unmannerly fellow!" muttered Thesbia.</p> + +<p>The aide-de-camp rode up to him angrily, spoke in a loud voice of his +imperial highness the Duke of Xara; the duke wished to see the huts.</p> + +<p>"They are not huts," said Zanti, in peevish contradiction.</p> + +<p>"What then?" asked the aide, haughtily.</p> + +<p>"Dwellings," answered Zanti, curtly.</p> + +<p>Thesbia shrugged his shoulders with annoyance. But the crown-prince +himself had ridden up and saluted Zanti before the latter had vouchsafed +any greeting:</p> + +<p>"Will your excellency give us leave to look at what you are doing for +the victims of the inundations?" he asked, politely, gently, graciously.</p> + +<p>"I'm not an excellency," muttered the grey-beard, "but, if you like to +look, you can."</p> + +<p>"We should like to," replied Othomar, a little haughtily, "but not +unless we have your entire approval. You are the master on your own +estate; and, if our visit is unwelcome, we will not force our presence +on you."</p> + +<p>Zanti looked him in the eyes:</p> + +<p>"I repeat, if you like to look round, you can. But there is not much to +see. Everything is so simple. We make no secret of what we do. And the +estate is not mine: it belongs to all of them."</p> + +<p>Othomar dismounted, the others followed; with difficulty Leoni and +Thesbia found a couple of boys to hold the horses in return for a tip.</p> + +<p>Othomar and Herman had already walked ahead with the old man:</p> + +<p>"I hear that you are doing much good work to mitigate the disaster of +the inundations," said Othomar.</p> + +<p>"The inundation is not a disaster."</p> + +<p>"Not a disaster!" asked Herman, surprised. "What then?"</p> + +<p>"A just punishment of heaven. And there will be more punishments. We +live in sinful times."</p> + +<p>The princes exchanged a quick glance; they saw that the conversation +would not go very easily.</p> + +<p>"But the sinners whom heaven punishes you assist for all that, Mr. +Zanti," said Herman. "For all these huts...."</p> + +<p>"Are not huts. They are sheds, workshops or temporary dwellings. They +will grow into a settlement, if such be God's will ... to enable men to +live simply, by their work. Life is so simple, but man has made it so +strange and complicated."</p> + +<p>"But you take in the peasants who have lost their all through the +inundations?" Herman persisted.</p> + +<p>"I don't take them. When they feel their sins, they come to me and I +save them from destruction."</p> + +<p>"And do they not come to you also without feeling their sins, because +they feel that they will get food and lodging for nothing?"</p> + +<p>"They get no food and lodging for nothing: they have to work here, sir!" +said the old man. "And perhaps more than you, who walk about in a +uniform.... They are paid, according to the amount of work they do, out +of the common fund. They are building here and I build with them. Do you +see this tree here and this axe? I was employed in felling down this +tree when you came and interrupted me."</p> + +<p>"A capital exercise," said Herman. "You look a vigorous man."</p> + +<p>"So you say you are forming a settlement here?" asked Othomar.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. The cities are corrupt; life in the country is purifying. +Here they live; farther on lies arable land, which I give them, and +pasture-land; I shall buy cattle for them."</p> + +<p>"So you are simply trying to recruit farmers here?" asked Herman.</p> + +<p>"No, sir!" answered the grey-beard gruffly. "I recruit no farmers; they +are not my farmers. They are their own farmers. They work for themselves +and I am a simple farmer like them. We are all equal...."</p> + +<p>"You are a simple farmer," Prince Herman echoed, "yet you live in a +castle."</p> + +<p>"No, young man," replied Zanti, "I do not live in a castle; I live +<i>here</i>; my daughter lives there by herself. She is ill.... She would not +be able to stand an alteration in her mode of life, or any deprivation. +But she will not live long...."</p> + +<p>He glanced up, looked at the Princes alternately, askance, almost +anxiously:</p> + +<p>"She is my only weakness, I think," he said, in a faint, deprecating +voice. "She is my sin; I have called in doctors for her and believe in +what they say and prescribe. You see, she would not be able to do it ... +to follow me in all things, for she has too much of the past in her poor +blood. For her, a castle and comfort are necessities, vital necessities. +Therefore I leave her there.... But she will not live long.... And then +I shall sell it and divide the money, every penny of it, among them +all.... You see, that is my weakness, my sin; I am only human...."</p> + +<p>The princes saw him display emotion; his hands trembled. Then he seemed +to feel that he had already spoken to them too much and too long of what +lay nearest to his heart, his sin. And he pointed to the buildings, +explained their uses....</p> + +<p>"I have read some of your pamphlets, Mr. Zanti," said the crown-prince. +"Do you apply your ideas on matrimony here?"</p> + +<p>"I apply nothing," the grey-beard growled, resuming his tone of +contradiction. "I leave them free to do as they please. If they wish to +get married according to your law, they can; but, if they come to me, I +bless them and let them go in peace, for it is written, 'Again I say to +you, that if two of you shall consent upon earth, concerning any thing +whatsoever they shall ask, it shall be done for them by my father who is +in heaven. For where there are two or three gathered together in my +name, there am I in the midst of them.'"</p> + +<p>"And how do you rule so many followers?" asked Herman.</p> + +<p>"I don't rule them, sir!" roared the old man, clenching his fists, his +face red with fury. "I am no more than any of them. The father has +authority in his own household and the old men give advice, because they +have experience: that is all. Life is so simple...."</p> + +<p>"As you picture it, but not in reality," objected Herman.</p> + +<p>Zanti looked at him angrily, stopped still, to be able to talk with +greater ease, and, passionately, violently, exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"And do you in reality find it better than I picture it? I do not, sir, +and I hope to turn my picture into reality. You and yours once, ages +ago, made your picture reality; now it is the turn of us others: your +reality has lasted long enough...."</p> + +<p>Othomar, haughtily, tried to say something in opposition; the old man, +however, suddenly turned to him and, gently though roughly, said, his +penetrating, fanatical voice which made Othomar shudder:</p> + +<p>"For you, sir, I feel pity! I do not hate you, although you may think I +do. I hate nobody. The older I have grown, the less I have learned to +hate, the more softness has entered into me. See here: I hear something +in your voice and see something in your eyes that ... that attracts me, +sir. I tell you this straight out. It is very foolish of me, perhaps, to +talk like this to my future emperor. But it is so: something in you +attracts me. And I feel pity for you. Do you know why? Because the time +will come!"</p> + +<p>He suddenly pointed upwards, with a strange impressiveness, and +continued:</p> + +<p>"The hour will come. Perhaps it is very near. If it does not come in +your father's reign, it will come in your reign or your son's. But come +it will! And therefore I feel pity for you. For you will not have enough +love for your people. Not enough love to say to them, 'I am as all of +you and nothing more. I will possess no more than any of you, for I do +not want abundance while you suffer need. I will not rule over you, for +I am only a human being like yourselves and no more human than you.' Are +you more human? If you were more, then you would be entitled to rule, +yes, then, then ... See here, young man: you will never have so much +love for your people as to do all this, oh, and more still and more! You +will govern and possess abundance and wage war. But the time will come! +Therefore I have pity for you ... although I oughtn't to!"</p> + +<p>Othomar had turned pale; even Herman gave a little shudder. It was more +because of the oracular voice of the man who was prophesying the doom of +their sovereignty than because of his words. But Herman shook off his +shudder and, angrily, haughtily:</p> + +<p>"I cannot say that you are polite to your <i>guests</i>, Mr. Zanti," he said. +"I do not speak of his imperial highness...."</p> + +<p>Zanti looked at Othomar:</p> + +<p>"Forgive me," he said. "I spoke like that for your sake. Your eyes are +like my daughter's. That's why I spoke as I did."</p> + +<p>Herman burst out laughing:</p> + +<p>"A valid reason, no doubt, Mr. Zanti."</p> + +<p>Othomar, however, signed to him to cease his tone of persiflage and also +with a glance restrained his equerries, who had listened to Zanti's +oracular utterances in speechless indignation: the old man had addressed +Othomar almost in a whisper. His last words, however, which resounded +with emotion, changed this indignation into bewilderment, calmed their +anger, made them regard the prophet as half a madman, whose treason the +crown-prince was graciously pleased to excuse. And the officers looked +at one another, raised their eyebrows, shrugged their shoulders. Dutri +grinned. Othomar asked Zanti coolly whether they had not better proceed.</p> + +<p>The settlement was very much in its first stage; yet a few farm-houses +were beginning to rise up, chestnut-trees lay felled, hundreds of +peasants were busily working.</p> + +<p>The group of officers excited great curiosity; the princes had been +recognized. On almost every side the people stopped work, followed the +uniforms with their eyes.</p> + +<p>The princes and their suite felt instinctively that a hostile feeling +was passing through Zanti's peasants. When they asked a question here +and there about the sufferings experienced, the answer sounded curt and +rough, with a reference to the will of God, and was always like an echo +of Zanti's own words. Pecuniary assistance seemed uncalled for. And +Zanti had really nothing to show. The settlement made a poor impression +on Othomar, perhaps because of a sort of mortified sovereignty. He was +accustomed always to be approached with respect, as a future majesty; +and his sensitiveness was more deeply wounded by Zanti's bluntness, by +the surliness of Zanti's peasants, than he himself was willing to admit. +He felt that at this spot they saw in him not the crown-prince who loved +his people and wanted to learn how to succour them, but the son of a +tyrant, who would act as a tyrant also when his turn came. He felt that, +though Zanti called himself the apostle of peace, this peace was not in +his disciples; and, when he looked into their rough, sullen faces, he +saw hatred gleam luridly from deep, hollow eyes, as with sudden +lightning-flashes....</p> + +<p>The weight of it all fell heavily upon his chest; his impotence pressed +with a world of inconsolable misery and unappeasable grief upon his +shoulders, as though to bear him to the ground. It was the misery and +grief not of one, but of thousands, millions. Vindictive eyes multiplied +themselves around him in a ferment of hatred; each one of his people who +asked happiness of him, demanding it and not receiving it, seemed to be +there, staring at him with those wide eyes....</p> + +<p>He felt himself turning giddy with an immense feeling of helplessness. +He looked for nothing more, this was the end. And he was not surprised +at what happened: the man with the brown, hairy, distorted face, who +rushed upon him like a nightmare and laid hold of him, full of hatred. A +foul, tobacco-laden breath swept over his face, a coarse knife in a +coarse fist flashed towards his throat....</p> + +<p>A cry arose. A shot rang out, sharp, determined, with no suspicion of +hesitation. The man cursed out a hoarse yell, gnashing his teeth in +revolt, and struggled, dying. His brains splashed over Othomar, soiling +the prince's uniform. And the man plumped down at his feet on the +ground, grown limp at once, with relaxed muscles, still clutching the +knife in his hairy fingers. All this had happened in a single instant.</p> + +<p>It was Von Fest who had fired the shot from a revolver. The colonel drew +up his broad figure, looked around him, still held the revolver raised +at a threatening slant. The people stood staring, motionless, perplexed +by the sudden reality before their eyes.</p> + +<p>Zanti, stupefied, gazed at the corpse; then he said, while the startled +officers stood by in fussy confusion around the prince:</p> + +<p>"Now go and, if you can, go in peace!..."</p> + +<p>Full of bitterness, he pointed to the corpse. He shook his head, with +the grey locks under the felt hat; tears sprang to the corners of his +eyes.</p> + +<p>"Thou shalt not kill!" they heard him mutter. "They seem not to know +that yet; nobody knows it yet!..."</p> + +<p>A strange, mad look troubled his normally clear, grey eyes; he seemed +for a moment not to know what he should do. Then he went to a tree, +caught up the axe and, without taking further notice of the princes, +began to hew like a lunatic, blow upon blow....</p> + +<p>The officers hurried to their horses. Dutri gave a last look back: near +the corpse, now surrounded by peasants, he saw a woman standing; she +sobbed, her desperate arms flung to heaven, she howled, she shook her +fist at the equerry's turned face, screaming.</p> + +<p>Othomar had said nothing. He heard the woman howling behind him. He +quivered in every nerve. On the road, preparing to mount, Ducardi asked +him, agitatedly:</p> + +<p>"Shall we return to Castel Vaza, highness?"</p> + +<p>The prince looked at the general haughtily. Quickly the thought flashed +through him that the general had strongly opposed his coming here. He +shook his head.</p> + +<p>Then his eyes sought Von Fest: they glanced up at the colonel under +their eyelids, deep-black, moist, almost reproachful.</p> + +<p>But he held out his hand:</p> + +<p>"Thank you, colonel," he said, in a husky voice.</p> + +<p>The colonel pressed the hand which the prince offered him:</p> + +<p>"Glad to be of service, highness!" he replied, with soldierly +brusqueness.</p> + +<p>"And now let us go on to the Zanthos," said Othomar, walking up to his +horse.</p> + +<p>But the old general could master himself no longer. In these last +moments he had felt all his passionate love—seated hereditarily, firmly +in his blood, of a piece with him, his very soul and all that soul—for +the reigning house. His fathers had died for it in battle, without +hesitation. And with the mad, wide embrace of his long, powerful old +arms, he ran up to Othomar, grateful that he was alive, pressed him as +if he would crush him against his breast, until the buttons of his +uniform scratched Othomar's cheek, and cried, sobbing, under his +trembling moustache:</p> + +<p>"My prince, my prince, my prince!..."</p> + + + +<h3>8</h3> + +<p>The attempt on Othomar's life was known at Castel Vaza before the +princes returned, from peasants of the duke's, who had told the +castle-servants long stories of how the prince had been severely +wounded. The duchess had at first refused to believe it; then, in rising +anxiety, in the greatest tension and uncertainty, she had walked about +the corridors. She had first tried to persuade herself that the people +were sure to exaggerate. When she reflected that, in the event of +Othomar's being wounded, the princes and the equerries would have +returned at once, she became more tranquil and waited patiently.</p> + +<p>But the chamberlain, who had been to Vaza, returned in dismay: people +were very uneasy in the town, pressing round the doors of the +newspaper-offices to read the bulletins, which mentioned the attempt +briefly, with the provoking comment that further particulars were not +yet to hand. The duchess realized that by this time the bulletin had +also been telegraphed to Lipara; and she feared not only that Othomar +had met with harm, but that she herself would lose favour with the +empress....</p> + +<p>When the duchess at last, after long watching from a window in the west +corridor, saw the princes and their suite come trotting, very small, +along a distant road, she could not restrain herself and went to meet +them in the courtyard. But she saw that Othomar was unhurt. The Duke of +Xara dismounted, smiled, gave her his hand; she kissed it, curtseying, +ardently; her tears fell down upon it. The chamberlain approached, +assured Othomar, in the name of all the duke's servants, of their +heartfelt gratitude that the Duke of Xara had been spared, by the grace +of God and the succour of St. Ladislas.</p> + +<p>Ducardi had not been able to telegraph from anywhere before, but he now +sent in all haste to Vaza with a message for the emperor, mentioning at +the same time that the prince had calmly resumed the expedition +immediately after the attempt upon his life. Dinner took place amid a +babel of voices; the duchess was greatly excited, asked for the smallest +details and almost embraced Von Fest. The crown-prince drank to his +preserver and every one paid him tribute.</p> + +<p>Afterwards Ducardi advised the crown-prince, in an aside, to retire +early to rest. The general spoke in a gentle voice; it seemed as though +the thought that he might have lost his crown-prince had made him fonder +of him. Herman too pressed Othomar to go to bed.</p> + +<p>He himself had grown calm, but a vague feeling of lassitude had come +over all his being: he had even drunk Von Fest's health in a strangely +weary voice. He now took their advice, withdrew, undressed himself; his +soiled uniform, which he had changed before dinner, still hung over a +chair; he shuddered to think that he had worn it the whole afternoon:</p> + +<p>"Those things!" he said to Andro, who was still quite confused and, +nervously weeping, was tidying up. "Burn them, or throw them away, throw +them away."</p> + +<p>Othomar flung himself in his dressing-gown on a couch in the room +adjoining his bedroom. This was also an historical apartment, with +tapestry on the walls representing scenes from the history of Lipara: +the Emperor Berengar I., triumphantly riding into Jerusalem, with his +crusaders holding aloft their white banners; the Empress Xaveria, seated +on horseback in her golden armour before the walls of Altara, falling +backwards, struck dead by a Turkish arrow....</p> + +<p>The prince lay staring at them. A deadly calm seemed to make him feel +nothing, care about nothing. In his own mind he reviewed the whole +historical period from Berengar to Xaveria. He knew the dates; the +scenes passed cloudily before his eyes as though tapestries were being +unrolled, kaleidoscopically, with the faded colours of old artwork. He +saw himself again, a small boy, in the Imperial, in an austere room, +diligently learning his lessons; he saw his masters, relieving one +another: languages, history, political economy, international law, +strategy; it had all heaped itself upon his young brain, piled itself +up, built itself up like a tower. By way of change, his military +education—drilling, riding, fencing—conducted by General Ducardi, who +praised him or grumbled at him, or growled at the sergeants who +instructed him. He had never been able to learn mathematics, had never +understood a word of algebra; in many subjects he had always remained +weak: natural philosophy and chemistry, for instance. For a time he had +taken great pleasure in the study of mineralogy and zoology and botany; +and afterwards he had shown some enthusiasm for astronomy. Then came the +university and his legal studies....</p> + +<p>He remembered his little vanities as a child and as a boy, when in his +ninth year he had become a lieutenant in the throne-guards; when later +he had received the Garter from the Queen of England and the Black Eagle +from the German Emperor and the Golden Fleece from the Queen-regent of +Spain. With such minor vanity there had always been mingled a certain +dread of possible obligations which the Garter or the Eagle might imply: +obligations which hovered vaguely before his eyes, which he dared not +define and still less ask about of Ducardi, of his father. Gradually +these threatening obligations had become so heavy and now, now they were +the weights that bore upon his chest....</p> + +<p>The weights.... But he did not stir, feeling strangely calm. Then he +thought of Von Fest, of the duchess.... Yesterday, her kiss.... He had +lain swooning on her shoulder and she had kissed him and long watched +him with passionate looks. And all those stories of the equerries....</p> + +<p>Then it came as with a fierce wave foaming over his absolute +calmness....</p> + +<p>Why had that man hated him, tried to murder him, tried to slay him like +a beast?... Pride welled up in him, pride and despair. The man had +touched him, soiled him with his breath, him, the crown-prince, the Duke +of Xara! He gnashed his teeth with rage. That was a thing which Berengar +I. would never have suffered! Off with his head! Off with his head!... +Oh, that populace which did not know, which did not feel, which pressed +up against him, seething and foaming against the throne, which terrified +his mother, however haughtily she might look beyond it into the +distance, with her imperial composure!...</p> + +<p>How he hated it, hated it, with all the hatred of his house for those +who were now free and were yet once its slaves! How he would have them +shot down, have them shot down when he came into power!...</p> + +<p>He looked at Xaveria: she herself was shot down, the haughty amazon; +backwards she fell, wounded by the arrow of a Turkish soldier. And he, +that morning, if Von Fest had not....</p> + +<p>He threw himself back wildly, buried his face in his hands and sobbed. +No, no, oh no! He would not shoot them down, not kill them, not hate +them! He was not like that: he might be like that for a moment, but he +was not like that! He was fond of his people; he was so grateful when +they rejoiced, when he was able to help them. Surely he would never have +them shot on! He was only growing excited now. What was there in his +soul for all of them, for those millions, of whom he had perhaps seen +only a few thousands and knew only a few hundreds, but one great love, +which threw out arms to them in every direction, to embrace them? Had he +not felt this in that black night on the Therezia Square? Were hatred +and violence his? No, oh no! He was soft, perhaps too soft, too +irresolute, but he would grow older, he would grow stronger; he would +wish to and he would make all of them happy. Oh, if they only cared for +him, if they only loved him with their great mass of surging, black, +frothing humanity, a sable Milky Way of swarming souls, each soul a +spark, like his own; oh, if they only loved him! But they must not hate +him, not look at him with those bloodshot eyes of hatred, not aim at his +throat with those coarse, hairy fingers, not try to murder him, O God, +not try to slay him like a bullock, with a common knife, him, their +future sovereign!...</p> + +<p>And he felt that they did not belong to him and did not know him and did +not understand him and did not love him, all of them, and that they +hated him merely out of instinct, because he was born upon the throne!</p> + +<p>And his despair because of all this spanned out, immense, a desert of +black night, which he felt eternities wide around him; and he sobbed, +sobbed, like an inconsolable child, because this was as it was and would +become more desperate with each day that brought him nearer to his +future as emperor and to their future: the mournful day which would rise +upon the destruction of the old world....</p> + +<p>Then there came a knock at a little door; and the door was softly +opened....</p> + +<p>"Who's there?" he asked, startled, feeling the breach of etiquette, not +understanding why Andro had not come through the anteroom to announce +whoever it might be.</p> + +<p>"If your highness permits me...."</p> + +<p>He recognized the duchess' soft voice, rose, went to the door:</p> + +<p>"Come in, duchess...."</p> + +<p>She entered, hesitatingly; she had thrown a long cloak over her bare +shoulders to go through the chilly passages of the castle....</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, highness, if I intrude ... if I disturb you...."</p> + +<p>He smiled, said no, apologized for his costume, feeling surprised and +pleased....</p> + +<p>She saw that his eyes were swimming with moisture:</p> + +<p>"I am indiscreet," she said, "but I couldn't help it; I felt I must find +out how you were, highness.... Perhaps I wished to surprise you as well: +I don't quite know. Something impelled me: I could not help coming to +you. You are my guest and my crown-prince; I longed to see for myself +how you were.... Your highness bore up well at dinner, but I felt...."</p> + +<p>Her voice flowed on, soft and monotonous, as though with drops of +balsam. He asked her to sit down; she did so; he sat down by her side; +the dark cloak slipped off and she was magnificent, with her white neck, +siren-like in her opalescent, pale-green watered silk. He noticed that +she had laid aside the jewels which she had worn at dinner.</p> + +<p>"I wanted to come to you quietly, through that door," she resumed, "in +order to tell you once more, to tell you alone, how unspeakably thankful +I am that your highness' life has been preserved...."</p> + +<p>Her voice trembled; her ebony glances grew moist; the light of the great +candles in the silver candelabra shimmered over the silk of her dress, +played with soft light and slumbering shadow in the modelling of her +face, in the curve of her bosom.</p> + +<p>He pressed her hand; she retained his:</p> + +<p>"Was your highness crying when I came in?" she asked.</p> + +<p>His tears were still flowing, a last sob heaved through his body.</p> + +<p>"Why?" she asked again. "Or am I indiscreet?..."</p> + +<p>He looked at her; at this moment he could have told her everything. And, +though he contained himself, yet he gave her the essence of his grief:</p> + +<p>"I was sad," he said, "because they seem to hate me. Nothing makes me so +sad as their hatred."</p> + +<p>She looked at him long, felt his sorrow, understood him with her +feminine tact, with her courtier-like swiftness of comprehension, which +had ripened in the immediate contact of her sovereigns. She understood +him: he was the crown-prince, he must suffer his special princely +suffering; he must drink an imperial cup of bitterness to the dregs. She +remembered that she herself had suffered, so often and so violently, for +love, passionate woman that she was; she understood that his suffering +was different from hers, but doubtless more terrible, as it seized him +already at so young an age and as it depended not upon his own single +soul, but upon the millions of souls of his empire. She too had suffered +because she had not been loved; he also suffered like that. And so in +one instant she understood him quite entirely, with all her strange +woman's heart.</p> + +<p>A thrill of compassion welled up in her breast as a yet unknown delight +and, like a fervent, gentle oracle, she uttered the words:</p> + +<p>"They do not all hate you...."</p> + +<p>He recognized her passionate glances of the day before. He remembered +her kiss. He looked at her long, still hesitating a little in the +presence of the unknown. Then he extended his arms and, with a dull cry +of despair, hoarse with hunger for consolation, he called to her in his +helplessness:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Alexa!..."</p> + +<p>She first smiled, with radiant eyes, then flung herself bodily into his +young arms, crushing him against her bare breast. She felt like a maid +and a mother in one. But, when he clung to her in a wild passion of +despair, she felt herself to be nothing but a lover. She knew that he +would be her last love. The knowledge made her proudly sad and +diabolically happy. Her kisses clattered upon his eyes like hail....</p> + +<p>And in their love, that night, they mingled the wormwood of what they +both were suffering, each seeking consolation for life's sorrows in the +other....</p> + + + +<h3>9</h3> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">"To HIS IMPERIAL HIGHNESS THE DUKE OF XARA,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 14.5em;">"LYCILIA.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 13em;">"THE IMPERIAL,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 17em;">"LIPARA,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 14.5em;">"—<i>April</i>, 18—.</span><br /> +<br /> +</p> + +<p>"MY DEAR BROTHER,</p> + +<p>"I want to tell you before you read it in those tedious papers that our +respected father and emperor this morning, on my tenth birthday, dubbed +me a knight of St. Ladislas in the knights' hall of the palace. You can +understand how proud I feel. I shall not tell you about the ceremony, +because you will remember that yourself. I was very much impressed as I +walked up to our father between all those tall knights in their blue +mantles and knelt before his throne. I wore my new uniform of a +lieutenant in the guards. The king-at-arms, the Marquis of Ezzera, held +up the rule of the order on a cushion, on which I took the oath. I must +have looked rather small with my little mantle: the cross of St. +Ladislas was just as big on it, however, as on those of all the others. +I felt that they were all looking over my head; and that is not a +pleasant feeling when you are the hero of the day. But of course I am +the youngest of the knights, so there is no harm in my being a little +shorter. The sword our father gave me is also a little smaller than that +of the other knights, but the hilt is rather pretty and blazes with +precious stones. Still, I think I prefer the chasing on the scabbard of +yours, but when I am eighteen—so in eight years from now!—I am to have +another sword and of course another mantle too.</p> + +<p>"Mamma was terribly alarmed and nervous when she heard of that man who +attacked you and she wanted to have you recalled at once, because it did +not seem safe where you are; and she simply could not understand that +this could not be done. But safe: who is safe nowadays? One's not safe +in war either and not even here in the Imperial. One shouldn't think so +much of all that safety, that's what I say; but of course mamma is a +woman and therefore she thinks differently from what we do. The riots +and the martial law also upset her, but I think it rather jolly: +everything's military now, you know. That Von Fest is a fine fellow. I +should like to shake hands with him and to thank him myself; but, as I +can't, I beg you <i>particularly</i> to do so for me and <i>on no account</i> to +forget it. You have heard, no doubt, through General Ducardi, that papa +is going to make Von Fest a commander of the Imperial Orb. What a pity +that we can't create him a knight of St. Ladislas, but for that of +course he would have to be a Liparian and not a Gothlander.</p> + +<p>"Now, dear brother, I must finish, because Colonel Fasti is expecting me +for my fencing-lesson. Give my <i>very kindest</i> regards to Herman and +General Ducardi and remember me to the others; and accept for yourself +the fond embrace of your affectionate brother,</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 24.5em;">"BERENGAR,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20em;">"Marquis of Thracyna</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 18em;">"(Knight of St. Ladislas)."</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + + +<h3>1</h3> + +<p>It was after the opening of the new parliament. The sun streamed as +though with square patches of molten gold along the white palaces of the +town, touching with blue what was shadow in the corners.</p> + +<p>Two regiments of grenadiers, red and blue, stood in two double lines, +drawn up along the principal streets which led from the Parliament House +to the Imperial. The crowd pressed and tossed and cheered; all the +windows, open wide, swarmed with heads; people looked on from every +balcony. A shot thundered from Fort Wenceslas on the sea; the emperor +returned; the grenadiers presented arms in company after company....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The lancers lead the van, blue and white, with streaming pennants at the +points of their lances, six squadrons of them. The whole strength of the +throne-guards, white, with breastplates of glittering gold flashing in +the sunlight above the black satin skins of the stallions, ride halberd +on thigh, surrounding the gently swaying state-carriages, scintillating +with rich gilding and bright crystal and two of them crowned with the +imperial crown, with teams of six and eight plumed greys. The horses +foam over their bits, impatient, nervously pawing the ground, prancing +because of the slow, ceremonious pace along the blinding, flagged +roadway. In the first coach, the master of ceremonies, the Count of +Threma; in the second, with the crown and the team of eight—and the +roar of the cheering rises from behind the hedge of soldiers—the +emperor, his uniform all gold, his robes of scarlet and ermine, his +crown upon his head. It is the only time that the people have seen their +emperor wear his crown.</p> + +<p>And they cheer. But the emperor makes no acknowledgment: through the +glass of the coach he looks out, to left and right in turns, at the +crowd, with a proud smile of self-consciousness and victory; and his +face, full of race, full of force, cold with will, proud with authority, +is inaccessible in its smile as that of a Roman emperor on his triumphal +entry.</p> + +<p>It is a triumphal entry, this return from the Parliament House to his +Imperial: a triumph over that which they denied him and upon which he +has now laid his heavy hand, showing them all that his mere will can +bend them to his word and purpose. And the cheers rise louder and louder +from that capricious crowd, restrained like a woman by a ruler whom it +now adores for his strength and admires for his imperial might, upon +which he leans, as he passes from the Parliament House to his own +palace, as though it were a whole army that lived upon his nod; and +louder and louder, louder and louder the cheers ring out that sunny +afternoon over the marble houses; and the emperor smiles continually, as +though his smile meant:</p> + +<p>"Cheer away! What else can you do but cheer?..."</p> + +<p>In the next coach rides the Duke of Xara, robed, crowned; he stares +rigidly over the vociferating crowd with the same glance that his mother +reserves for the populace. In the next to that, the new governor-general +of the capital, the head of the emperor's military household, the Duke +of Mena-Doni, a rougher soldier than the Marquis of Dazzara and a less +practised courtier, under whose military fist the white capital, like a +beaten slave, crouched low during the martial law proclaimed after a +single hour of disturbance that ventured to follow upon the emperor's +decision to dissolve the house of deputies. His coarse, sensual mouth +smiles with the same smile as that of the emperor, whose rude force he +seems to impersonate; and he too seems to say:</p> + +<p>"Cheer away, shout hurrah!"</p> + +<p>Then the following carriages: the imperial chancellor, Count Myxila; the +ministers: seven of them forming part of the twelve who wished to +resign, the others chosen from among the most authoritative of the old +nobility in the house of peers itself!</p> + +<p>Cheer away, shout hurrah!</p> + +<p>Behind the coaches of the higher court-officials, the Xara cuirassiers, +the crown-prince's own regiment; behind them, a regiment of colonials: +Africans, black as polished ebony, with eyes like beads, their thick +mouths thrust forwards, clad in the muslin-like snow of their burnouses; +behind them, two regiments of hussars on heavy horses, in their long, +green, gold-frogged coats and their tall busbies.</p> + +<p>Was ever parliament opened thus before, with such a display of military +force? And outside the town, on the high parade-grounds, do not the +people know that there are troops drawn together from every province, +camping there for the manoeuvres, the date of which has been +accelerated? And the increased garrisons of the forts, the squadron in +the harbour? Do the people themselves feel that they can do nothing else +than cheer and is that why they are cheering now, happy once more in +their cheering, with Roman docility and southern submission, enamoured +of the emperor because of the weight of his crushing fist, loving the +crown-prince for the attractive charm of his attitude in the north, or +perhaps because they think him interesting after an unsuccessful attempt +on his life?</p> + +<p>And they seem not to feel that, through the grenadiers presenting arms, +they see neither the emperor nor the crown-prince saluting; they cheer +away, loving them in spite, perhaps because, of their indifference; they +cheer away like madmen....</p> + +<p>Slowly the procession wends its way along the interminable main streets. +The whole city, despite its marble, trembles with the clatter of the +horses' hoofs upon the flagged pavement. Between the front escort and +the endless escort in the rear, the state-carriages, with their +glittering throne-guards, shimmer like a kind of jewel, small, rare, +carefully guarded. The cavalry are at this moment the soul of Lipara, +their echoing step its heart-beat; and between the grenadiers and the +tall houses the massed and cheering populace seems to have hardly room +to breathe.</p> + +<p>The procession approaches the Imperial. Along the immense marble +fore-court the lancers and cuirassiers range themselves on three sides, +before the wings and along the front. Outside them the guards are drawn +up in line. The Africans close off the courtyard....</p> + +<p>The carriages pull up; and the emperor alights. With the crown-prince by +his side, he goes through the vestibule up the stairs. The corridors of +the palace swarm with gold-laced uniforms; a packed suite crowds up +behind Oscar and Othomar. The master of the robes, with twelve grooms of +the bed-chamber, comes towards the emperor, who takes off his crown, as +does the crown-prince; their robes are unfastened for them.</p> + +<p>They go to the great white hall, white with the Corinthian columns with +gilt capitals. The empress and the Princess Thera are there, surrounded +by their ladies. It is a great day: in this sun-apotheosis of the +opening of parliament the monarchy is triumphing over the threats of the +future and deferring that future itself. The empress, in her trailing +pale-mauve velvet, steps towards her spouse and curtseys before him +ceremoniously. The princess, the mistress of the robes, all the ladies +curtsey....</p> + +<p>Outside, in front, the square is now filled by the multitude; an excited +popular clamour surges up against the immovable palace, as it were the +sea against a rock. The doors of the centre balcony are opened. The +emperor and the prince will show themselves....</p> + +<p>"Only just salute once," whispers the emperor to his son, sternly.</p> + +<p>The sun outside rains down gold upon the swarming mass, tinging it with +many-changing, chameleon, southern tints between the white, motionless +wings of the Imperial, whose caryatids look down placidly. The imperial +pair step on the balcony. Hats are thrown up towards them; the yelling +bellows with a shout as from a single noisy, vulgar throat and echoes +through the open doors against the gilt ceiling and columns of the white +hall. The empress is frightened by it, turns pale; her breath +catches....</p> + +<p>On the balcony the Emperor of Liparia salutes his excited people with a +solitary wave of the hand; the Duke of Xara bows his head slightly.</p> + + + +<h3>2</h3> + +<p>There was no more talk of a revision of the constitution and reform of +the hereditary house of peers. The constitutional majority of +three-fourths which is required in the house of deputies before such a +proposal can be taken into consideration, though there at first, no +longer existed after the new elections. Oscar, immediately after his +return from Altara, had shown them his daring strength. Lipara was +surrounded with troops: this was as well, for the manoeuvres, for the +King of Syria, who was expected. The forts were strengthened, the fleet +lay in the harbour; then came the imperial decree that the house of +deputies should simply ... be dissolved. What an outcry, after the +promulgation of that decree, in the newspapers and in the streets! For +one moment, at night, there was an abortive riot. But the emperor, +furious with the Marquis of Dazzara for his delay in taking prompt and +energetic measures, had next day affirmed his august dissatisfaction. +The marquis was shown that there were moments when the emperor was not +to be trifled with; the emperor dismissed him personally, on the spot, +and told him he could go. Crushed, his eyes full of despair, the marquis +left the Imperial; in the fore-court his carriage crossed that of the +Duke of Mena-Doni, lieutenant-general of the hussars; he saw the duke's +sensual, Neronic head, covetous with ambition, staring up at the front +of the palace. The marquis threw himself back in his carriage, wringing +his hands and weeping like a child....</p> + +<p>That same morning martial law was proclaimed at Lipara and the Duke of +Mena-Doni appointed governor of the capital. With a great military +display and a speech of three words the emperor dissolved the house of +deputies. The people trembled, beaten off, thrashed, reduced to +crouching at the imperial feet. The decree was issued for the general +election. Must the people be chastised to make them attached to their +emperor? Was it because of the innumerable articles in the newspapers of +the northern provinces—Altara, Vaza and Lycilia—which bestowed all +their sympathy upon their most charming, charitable crown-prince, +indefatigable, omnipresent, mitigating what suffering he could? Was it +because of the colossal, fabulous presents of millions contributed from +the imperial privy purse to the fund for the victims of the disaster? +The result of the elections became known: the new house of deputies +contained a bare, impotent majority of constitutionals. What did it +profit that the liberal papers shrieked of intrigue and undue pressure? +Without and within the city lay the army; each day the emperor showed +himself, with by his side the Duke of Mena-Doni....</p> + +<p>The emperor invited the old ministry to remain in office, but dismissed +those of the ministers who were not absolutely authoritative.</p> + +<p>The crisis was at an end. The great spring manoeuvres were to take place +on the parade-ground so soon as the King and Queen of Syria arrived at +Lipara.</p> + +<p>In Othomar there sprang up a vast admiration for his father. He did not +love him with the fondness, the intimacy, the still almost childish +dependence with which he loved the empress; he had always looked up to +him; as a child he had been afraid of him. Now, after the personal +courage which he had seen the emperor display, the sovereign power which +he had watched him exercise, his majesty rose higher before Othomar's +eyes, as it were the statue of a demi-god. He felt himself a lowly +mortal beside him, when he thought:</p> + +<p>"What should <i>I</i> have done, if I had had to act in this case? Should I +have dared to take the prompt decision to dissolve the house of deputies +and should I not have feared an immediate revolution in every corner of +the country? Should I, after the disturbances, have dared to dismiss the +Marquis of Dazzara at once, like a lackey, attached as he was to our +house and descended from our most glorious nobility? Should I have dared +to summon that duke, that swashbuckler, with his cruel face, even before +I had dismissed the marquis, so that the one arrived as the other +departed?"</p> + +<p>And he already saw himself hesitating in imagination, not knowing what +would be best, above all not knowing what would be most just; he +pictured himself advised by old Count Myxila, at last determined to +dissolve the deputies, but not dismissing the marquis, not declaring +martial law in Lipara and assembling the troops too late and seeing the +revolution burst out at all points simultaneously, with bomb upon +bomb....</p> + +<p>To do what was most just, this seemed to him the most difficult thing +for a sovereign.</p> + +<p>But the emperor's monarchic triumph had this result, that, clearly as +Othomar saw his own weakness, a reflex of strength and determination was +cast upon him from his father himself, by whose side he stood. Moreover, +he had not much time for brooding. Each day brought its special duties. +Scarcely was he able to allow himself one hour of solitary repose. He +was accustomed to this life of constant movement, of constant public +appearances, now here, now there, so thoroughly accustomed to it that he +did not feel the fatigue which was already exhausting him before his +tour in the north and which had now eaten into his nerves and marrow. He +gave this fatigue no thought, regarded it perhaps as an organic languor, +a transitory symptom, which was bound to pass. And each day brought its +own fatigue. Thus he had grown accustomed to rise early, at seven every +morning; Lipara then still lay white and peaceful in its rosy slumber of +the dawn; he rode out on his thorough-bred Arab, black Emiro, with his +favourite collie close behind him, galloping with him, its pointed nose +poked out, its shaggy collar sticking up; unaccompanied by equerries, he +rode through the park of the Imperial to the Elizabeth Parks, in the +afternoon the resort of elegant carriages and horsemen, but in the +morning peaceful, wide and deserted, with barely a solitary early rider, +who made way respectfully for the prince and took his hat off low. Then +he rode along the white quays with their villas and palm-trees, their +terraces and aloes; and the incomparable harbour lay before him, always +growing an intenser blue beneath the pink morning light, which became +cruder. Higher up, the docks, the ships, the hum of industry already +audible. Slowly he walked his horse along the harbour; in the porticoes +of the villas he sometimes caught a glimpse of a woman's figure, saw her +eyes following him through roses and clematis. He loved this ride +because of the soft, fresh air, because of his horse, his dog, because +of his solitude with these two, because of the long, silent quays, the +wide, silent sky, the distant horizon still just enveloped in latest +morning mist. The morning breeze blew against his forehead under his +uniform cap; thoughts wandered at random through his brain. Then he +shook himself free from this voluptuousness, rode back to the town and +went to the Xaverius Barracks, occupied by the lancers; to the Wenceslas +Barracks occupied by the grenadiers; or to the Berengar Barracks, +occupied by the hussars. Here he enquired, investigated, inspected; and +here he found his equerries, Dutri and Leoni; he rode back with them to +the palace, and repaired to his father's room. This was the hour when +Count Myxila came to the emperor and when affairs of state were +discussed with the imperial chancellor; lately the crown-prince had +assisted at these meetings. Next he visited the empress, who was +expecting him: it was generally a most delightful moment, this which +they spent confidentially together before lunch, a moment full of charm +and intimacy. He sat close by her on a low chair, took her hand, poured +out to her the burdens of his heart, communicated to her his anxiety +about the future, about himself when later he himself would wear the +crown. At such times his eyes peered up through their lashes, with their +dark melancholy; his voice was querulous and begged for comfort. And she +encouraged him: she told him that nothing happened but what had to +happen; that everything was inevitable in the world's great chain of +events, joined link by link; that he must wait for what might come, but +at the same time do his duty; and that he must not unnerve himself with +such endless pondering, which led to nothing. He told her how he feared +his own hesitation and how he suspected that his decisions would always +come too late; and she, gently laughing, replied that, if he knew his +own faults so well, he should train himself to make his mind. He +questioned her about justice—the one thing that seemed impossible to +him on earth—and she referred him to his own feeling, as a human soul. +But yet, intensely sweet as these hours were, he felt that he remained +the same under their interchange of words and that, though words had +been exchanged, nothing was changed within him. Wherefore he thought +himself wicked and was afraid that he did not love his mother enough, +with enough conviction. Then he looked at her, saw her smiling, divined +beneath her smile the nervous dread which would never again relinquish +its grasp of her and felt that she spoke like this only for his sake, to +cheer him, and not from conviction. And his thoughts no longer wandered +discursively about him, as on his morning ride along the quays: they +fell like fine mists one upon the other in his imagination and formed +his melancholy.</p> + +<p>Lunch was taken privately. After lunch he sat for an hour to Thera, who +was painting his portrait. In the afternoon there were always different +things to do: exhibitions, charities, institutions of all kinds to be +visited, a foundation-stone to be laid, a man-of-war to be launched. +Every minute was filled; and each day filled his minutes differently +from the day before. Dinner was always a meal of great etiquette and +splendour; every day there were numerous guests: diplomatists, high +officials, officers. It lasted long; it was an emperor's daily +ceremonial banquet. Then in the evening the parties at court, or at the +houses of the ambassadors or dignitaries; the theatres and concerts. The +prince, however, never stayed late. He then read or worked for a couple +of hours in his own room; at twelve o'clock he went to bed.</p> + +<p>He was used to this life of monotonous variety, had grown up in it. So +soon as he returned from Lycilia to Lipara—the city was then still +under martial law—he found it waiting for him busier than ever; the +opening of parliament had followed close upon his return. The emperor +was pleased with the crown-prince's conduct in the north, perhaps +because of the praise which the northern newspapers bestowed upon the +Duke of Xara for his ready sympathy, because of his moment of +popularity. He wanted to let his son take more and more part in affairs +of state and discussed them with him more frequently either alone or in +the company of the imperial chancellor. But the stern measures of +drastic violence which the Duke of Mena-Doni had taken—he himself at +Lipara, his officers at Thracyna: furious charges of hussars against the +threatening crowds—these revolted Othomar; he had heard of them with +anguish and despair, though he knew that there was nothing to be +achieved by gentleness. And with his veneration for the emperor, as for +a demi-god of will and force, there was mingled a certain antipathy and +grudge, which divided him from his father and made any interchange of +thought between them difficult.</p> + +<p>Now, after the opening of parliament, the town, the whole country had +quieted down; the troops, however, remained on the parade-ground, for +the approaching manoeuvres. The arrival of the King and Queen of Syria +was fixed. Othomar's days succeeded one another as before. He was +entertained at banquets by the officers of the throne-guards and of the +other regiments to which he belonged. Yes, this was his hour of +popularity. It was already said that his surname one day would be +Othomar the Benevolent. It was at this time that he laid the +foundation-stone of a great alms-house, to whose establishment the will +of an immensely wealthy, childless duke—one of the oldest Liparian +families, which had become extinct—had contributed millions.</p> + +<p>Othomar's gentleness was in amiable contrast with Oscar's justly exerted +but rough force. He himself, however, was inwardly very much astonished +at this talk of benevolence: he liked to do good, but did not feel the +love of doing good as a leading feature in his character.</p> + +<p>After the dinner given to him by the staff-officers, Othomar was to go +in the evening with Ducardi, Dutri and Leoni to the Duke of Yemena, to +thank the court marshal officially for the hospitality shown him at +Castel Vaza. The duke occupied at Lipara a large, new house; his old +family-residence was at Altara.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>It is nine o'clock; the crown-prince is not yet expected. The duke and +duchess, however, are already receiving their guests; the duchess sent +out numerous invitations when Othomar announced his visit. The spacious +reception-rooms fill up: almost the whole of the diplomatic corps is +present, as are some of the ministers and great court-officials with +their wives, old Countess Myxila and her daughters and a number of +officers. They form the intimate circle of the Imperial. A jaunty +familiarity prevails among them, with the <i>sans-gêne</i> in vogue.</p> + +<p>Near the duchess stands Lady Danbury, the wife of the British first +secretary, and the Marquis of Xardi, the duke's son. They are talking +busily about the Dazzaras:</p> + +<p>"I've seen them," says Lady Danbury. "It's shocking, shocking. They're +living at Castel Dazzara, that old ruin in Thracyna, with their five +daughters, poor things! The ceilings are falling in. Three crooked old +men in livery; and the liveries even older than the servants. And debts, +according to what I hear, debts! I was astonished to see how old the +marchioness had grown; she has taken it terribly to heart, it seems."</p> + +<p>"Grown old?" asks the duchess. "I thought she looked quite young still, +last time I saw her...."</p> + +<p>She detests Lady Danbury, who is tall, thin and sharp-featured, her +appearance rather suggesting that of a graceful adder. And she +continues:</p> + +<p>"She still looked so well; she is slender, but she has a splendid neck +and shoulders.... I really cannot understand how she can have grown so +old...."</p> + +<p>And, as though brooding over this puzzle, the duchess stares at the lean +shoulders of Lady Danbury.</p> + +<p>Xardi's eyes glitter; he expects a skirmish.</p> + +<p>"They say that the marquis <i>used</i> to be one of your intimates, don't +they?" the Englishwoman insinuates.</p> + +<p>But that hateful "used to be" grates on Xardi's nerves.</p> + +<p>"I am very fond of the Dazzaras," says the duchess; "but"—and she +laughs mysteriously and meaningly—"he was always an unlucky bird...."</p> + +<p>"His excellency the Duke of Mena-Doni," the butler announces.</p> + +<p>"The rising sun!" Xardi whispers to Lady Danbury.</p> + +<p>Mena-Doni bows before the duchess, who smiles upon him. Lady Danbury, +standing by Xardi's side, continues:</p> + +<p>"And the lucky bird?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no!" says Xardi, with decision. "At least, not altogether...."</p> + +<p>They look at each other and laugh:</p> + +<p>"Imperial eagles are the finest birds, after all, don't you think?" says +Lady Danbury, jestingly.</p> + +<p>"What do you know about it?"</p> + +<p>"Alas, I am too unimportant to know anything! Before I get so far in my +zoological studies...."</p> + +<p>"But what have you heard?"</p> + +<p>"What everybody hears when Dutri can't hold his tongue."</p> + +<p>"What about?"</p> + +<p>"About a certain tender parting at Castel Vaza...."</p> + +<p>The Marquis of Xardi bursts out laughing. Lady Danbury suddenly clutches +his arm:</p> + +<p>"I say, Xardi, I know less slender people than the Marchioness of +Dazzara who would fall into a decline if they lost the imperial favour. +<i>Et toi?</i>"</p> + +<p>The marquis laughs loudly and:</p> + +<p>"Even the crown-princely favour," he whispers, behind Lady Danbury's +Watteau fan.</p> + +<p>And they chuckle with laughter together.</p> + +<p>"His imperial highness the Duke of Xara; their excellencies Count +Ducardi, Prince Dutri and the Marquis of Leoni!" are announced, slowly +and impressively.</p> + +<p>There is a slight movement in the groups. The room divides into two +rows; a couple of ladies get entangled in their trains and laugh. Then +they all wait.</p> + +<p>Othomar appears at the open door; Ducardi, Dutri and Leoni are behind +him. The old duke hastens towards the prince; the Marquis of Xardi +hurriedly thrusts Lady Danbury's fan into her hand and joins his father.</p> + +<p>The old duke is a well-knit, elegant man, full of racial refinement, +with a clean-shaven face; he is dressed simply in evening-clothes, with +the broad green riband of a commander of the Imperial Orb slanting +across his breast and the grand cross of St. Ladislas round his neck.</p> + +<p>Othomar wears his full-dress uniform as colonel of the Xara Cuirassiers, +silver, red and white; he holds his plumed helmet under his arm; he +presses the duke's hand, he addresses him with genial words; but, in the +ingenuousness of his youthful soul, he feels bitter remorse gnawing at +his conscience now that he speaks of Castel Vaza, now that he listens to +the cordial protestations of the duke. Othomar also shakes hands with +the Marquis of Xardi.</p> + +<p>Then the duchess approaches and greets the crown-prince with her famous +curtsey. Lady Danbury envies her her grace and asks herself how it is +possible, with those statuesque lines; she cannot deny that the Duchess +of Yemena is a splendid woman.... Between the duke and the duchess, the +prince walks down the row of bowing guests; the Marquis of Xardi follows +with the equerries.</p> + +<p>Othomar has seen the duchess once or twice at the Imperial since his +return to Lipara, but never alone. They now exchange courteous phrases, +with official voices and intonations. The groups form once more, as at +an intimate rout.</p> + +<p>The duchess walks on with Othomar, till they reach the long +conservatory, dimly lighted, dusky-green, with the stately palm-foliage +of the tall plants, with the delicate tracery of the bamboos, which +exude beads of dew against the square panes. They are silent for a +moment, looking at each other; and Othomar feels that his emotions for +this woman are nothing more than fleeting moments, cloudlets in his +soul. The unknown has opened out to him, but has turned to disillusion. +Nevertheless he is thankful to her for what she gave him: the +consolation of her passion, while his eyes were still moist with tears. +She strengthened him by this consolation and made him discover his +manhood. But everything in life is twofold; and his gratitude has a +reverse of sin. He sees the duke in the distance holding an animated +conversation, underlined with elegant, precise gestures, with Ducardi; +and remorse softly pierces his boyish soul.</p> + +<p>And next to his gratitude he feels his disillusion. Love! Is this +love?... He feels nothing; nothing new has come into his heart. He sees +how deliciously beautiful the duchess is in her ivory brocade, her train +edged with dark fur, her bodice cut square, a string of pearls round her +neck. The half-light drifts past her through the plants, a faery green, +with a gentle slumbering and with shadows full of mystery; her face, +with its delicate smile, stands out against the background of blurred +darkness. He recalls her kiss and the mad embrace of her arms. Yes, it +was a blissful enervation, an intoxication of the flesh, an unknown +giddiness, a physical comfort. But love: was it love?... And he has to +make up his mind: perhaps it is love; and, though he feels something +lacking in his soul, he makes up his mind for all that: yes, perhaps +that is what it is ... love.</p> + +<p>"And when shall I see your highness again?" she whispers.</p> + +<p>The question is put crudely and surprises him. But this single second of +momentary solitude is so precious to the duchess that she cannot do +otherwise. She observes his surprise and adores him for his innocence; +and her eyes gaze so beseechingly that he replies:</p> + +<p>"To-morrow I am dining with the French ambassador; after that I am going +to the opera.... Can I find you here at eleven o'clock?"</p> + +<p>He is surprised at the logical sequence of his thoughts, at his +question, which sounds so strangely in his ears. But she answers, +laughing disconcertedly:</p> + +<p>"For God's sake, highness, not here, at eleven o'clock! How could we!... +But ... come to ... Dutri's...."</p> + +<p>She stammers; she remembers the equerry's luxurious flat and sees +herself there again ... with others. And in her confusion she does not +perceive that she has wounded him deeply and torn his sensitiveness as +though with sharp claws; she fails all the more to perceive this, +because he answers, confusedly:</p> + +<p>"Very well...."</p> + +<p>They return, laughing, with their official, colourless voices; they walk +slowly: he, so young in his silver uniform, with the helmet, with its +drooping plume, under the natural grace of his rounded arm; she, with +her expansive brilliancy, trailing her ivory train, waving her fan of +feathers and diamonds to and fro against her Carrara-marble bosom. All +eyes are turned in their direction and observe the duchess' triumph....</p> + +<p>And Othomar now knows that his "love" will become what is called a +<i>liaison</i>, such as he has heard of in connection with this one and that, +or read of in novels. He had not yet imagined such an arrangement. He +does not know how he is to tell Dutri that he has made an assignation +with the duchess in his rooms; and, when he thinks of the equerry, +something of his innate sovereignty is chipped off as little pieces of +marble or alabaster might be from a frail column....</p> + +<p>Joining the duke and the general, he talks of the approaching +manoeuvres. He now sees the duchess standing at a distance and Mena-Doni +bending his Neronic head close to her face. His great antipathy for this +man is mingled with jealousy. And, while he smiles and listens to the +Duke of Yemena, he feels that he now knows for certain that his love +after all <i>is</i> love, because jealousy plays a part in it.</p> + + + +<h3>3</h3> + +<p>Next morning, when Othomar rode out alone, he was thinking the whole +time of Dutri. The difficulty of broaching the subject to his equerry +struck him as unsurmountable. His heart beat when he met Dutri waiting +for him in the Xaverius Barracks. But the young officer had the tact to +whisper to him, very calmly and courteously, as though it were the +simplest matter in the world:</p> + +<p>"I was talking with the Duchess of Yemena, highness.... Her excellency +told me that your highness wished to speak to her in private and did me +the honour.... Will your highness take this key?..."</p> + +<p>Othomar mechanically accepted the key. His face remained rigid and +serious, but inwardly he felt much annoyed with the duchess and did not +understand how and why she could drag Dutri into their secret. The ease +and simplicity with which she had evidently done so flashed across him +as something alarming. A confusion seemed to whirl through his head, as +though the duchess and Dutri had, with one breath, blasted all sorts of +firm convictions of his youth. He thought of the old duke. He considered +all this wrong. He knew that Dutri was a young profligate; he was in the +habit of hearing the whole gazette of court scandal from him, but he had +never believed one-half of what Dutri related and had often told the +equerry bluntly that he did not like to hear ill spoken of people whom +they saw daily, people attached to his house. Now it seemed to him that +everything that Dutri had said might be true and that yet worse things +might well take place. This key, offered with such simple politeness, +with such libertine ease, appeared to him as an object of searing +dishonour. He was already ashamed of having put the thing in his +pocket....</p> + +<p>He went on, however. The key burnt him while he spoke with General +Ducardi and, on his return to the Imperial, with his father and Myxila. +Before going to visit the empress, who was awaiting him, he locked it +away in his writing-table; then slowly, his forehead overshadowed, step +by step he went through the long galleries to the empress' apartments. +In the anteroom the lady-in-waiting rose, curtseyed, knocked at the door +and opened it:</p> + +<p>"His highness the Duke of Xara...."</p> + +<p>Othomar silently made the sign of the Cross, as though he were entering +a church:</p> + +<p>"May God and His Mother forgive me!" he murmured between his lips.</p> + +<p>Then he entered the empress' room.</p> + +<p>She was sitting alone in the large drawing-room, at one of the open +windows overlooking the park. She wore a very simple, smooth, dark +dress. It struck him how young she looked; and he reflected that she was +younger than the duchess. An aureole of delicate purity seemed to quiver +around her tall, slender form like an atmosphere of light and gave her a +distinction which other women did not possess. She smiled to him; and he +came up slowly and kissed her hand.</p> + +<p>She had not yet seen him that day; she took his head between her cool, +slim hands and kissed him.</p> + +<p>He sat down on a low chair by her side. Then she passed her hand over +his forehead:</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" she asked.</p> + +<p>He looked at her and said there was nothing particular. She suspected +nothing further; this was not the first time he brought her a clouded +forehead. She stroked it once more:</p> + +<p>"I promised papa to have a serious talk with you," she said.</p> + +<p>He looked up at her.</p> + +<p>"He thought it better that I should talk to you, because it was his idea +that I could do so more easily. For the rest, he is very pleased with +you, my boy, and rejoices to find that you have such a clear judgement, +sometimes, upon various political questions."</p> + +<p>This opinion of his father's surprised him.</p> + +<p>"And about what did you promise to talk to me?"</p> + +<p>"About something very, very important," she said, with a gentle smile. +"About your marriage, Othomar."</p> + +<p>"My marriage?..."</p> + +<p>"Yes, my boy.... You will soon be twenty-two. Papa married much later in +life, but he had many brothers. They are dead. Uncle Xaverius is in his +monastery. And we—papa and I—are not ever likely to have any more +children, Othomar."</p> + +<p>She put her arms about him and drew him to her. She whispered:</p> + +<p>"We have no one but you, my boy, and our little Berengar. And ... papa +therefore thinks that you ought to marry. We want an hereditary prince, +a Count of Lycilia...."</p> + +<p>His eyes became moist; he laid his head against her:</p> + +<p>"Two to become emperor? Berengar, if I should be gone before him: is not +that enough, mamma?"</p> + +<p>She smilingly shook her head in denial. No, that was not certainty +enough for the house of Czyrkiski-Xanantria.</p> + +<p>"Mamma," he said, gently, "when sociologists speak of the social +question, they deplore that so many children are born among the +proletariate and they even hold the poor parents, who have nothing else +but their love, responsible for the greater social misery which they +cause through those children. Does not this reproach really affect us +also? Or do you think an emperor so happy?"</p> + +<p>Her brow became overcast.</p> + +<p>"You are in one of your gloomy moods, Othomar. For God's sake, my boy, +do not give way to them. Do not philosophize so much; accept life as it +has been given to you. That is the only way in which to bear it. Do not +reflect whether you will be happy, when you are emperor, but accept the +fact that you must become emperor in your turn."</p> + +<p>"Very well, for myself: but why children, mamma?"</p> + +<p>"What sovereign allows his house to die out, Othomar? Do not be foolish. +Cling to tradition: that is all in all to us. Don't have such strange +ideas upon this question. They are not those of a future—I had almost +said—autocrat; they are not those of a monarch. You understand, +Othomar, do you not? You must, you must marry...."</p> + +<p>Her voice sounded more decided than usual, sounded almost hard.</p> + +<p>"And, dearest boy," she continued, "thank the circumstances and marry +now, as quickly as possible. Our relations with foreign countries are at +this moment such that there are no particular indications as to whom you +ought to marry. You can more or less pick and choose. For you are the +crown-prince of a great empire, my boy, of one of the greatest empires +in Europe...."</p> + +<p>He tried to speak; she continued, hurriedly:</p> + +<p>"I repeat, you can—very nearly—choose. You don't know how much that +means. Appreciate this, appreciate the circumstances. Travel to all the +courts of Europe that are worth considering. Use your eyes, make your +choice. There are pretty princesses in England, in Austria...."</p> + +<p>Othomar closed his eyes an instant, as though exhausted with weariness:</p> + +<p>"Later on, mamma," he whispered.</p> + +<p>"No, my boy," said the empress, "do not speak of later on, do not put +off. Think it over. Think how you will order your journey and whom you +will take with you and then talk it over with papa and Myxila. Will you +promise?"</p> + +<p>He just pressed his head against her and promised, with a weary smile.</p> + +<p>"But what's the matter with you, my boy?" she asked. "What is it?"</p> + +<p>His eyes grew moist.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, mamma. I am so tired sometimes...."</p> + +<p>"Aren't you well?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'm all right, but I am so tired...."</p> + +<p>"But why, my child?"</p> + +<p>He began to sob softly:</p> + +<p>"Tired ... of everything ... mamma."</p> + +<p>She looked at him for a long time, shook her head slowly, +disapprovingly.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, mamma," he stammered, wiping his eyes. "I shan't give way +like this again...."</p> + +<p>"You promised me that once before, Othomar dear."</p> + +<p>He leant his head against her once more, like a child:</p> + +<p>"No, really," he declared, caressingly, "I really will resist it. It is +not right of me, mamma. I will employ myself more, I shall grow +stronger. I swear to you I shall grow stronger for your sake...."</p> + +<p>She again looked long in his eyes, with her pure smile. Utter tenderness +went out from her to him; he felt that he would never love any one so +much as his mother. Then she took him in her arms and pressed him close +against her:</p> + +<p>"I accept your promise and I thank you ... my poor boy!" she whispered +through her kiss.</p> + +<p>At this moment there came a buzz of young voices, as though from birds +set free, out of the park, through the open windows. The tripping of +many little feet grated on the gravel. A high, shrill, childish voice +suddenly rang with furious words from among the others; the others were +silent....</p> + +<p>The empress started with a shock that was electric. She drew herself up +hastily, deadly pale:</p> + +<p>"Berengar!" she cried; and her voice died away.</p> + +<p>"And I shall tell his majesty what a scoundrel you are and then we'll +see! Then we'll see, then we'll see!..."</p> + +<p>The empress trembled as she leant out of the window. She saw ten or +eleven little boys; they looked perplexed.</p> + +<p>"Where is his highness?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"His highness is over there, ma'am!" shyly answered a little count, +pointing to the back-court, which the empress could not see.</p> + +<p>"But what is happening? What a noise to make! Send his highness here at +once! Berengar! Berengar!"</p> + +<p>His highness, Berengar, was called and came. He passed through the +little dukes and counts and looked up at the window through which his +mother was leaning. He was a small, sturdily built, vigorous little +chap; his face was crimson with indignation, his two small, furious eyes +were like two black sparks.</p> + +<p>"Berengar, come here!" cried the empress. "What is all this? Why can't +you play without quarrelling?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not quarrelling, mamma, but ... but I shall tell papa ... and ... +and then we'll see! Then we'll ..."</p> + +<p>"Berengar, come in here at once, through the palace, at once!" commanded +the empress.</p> + +<p>Othomar looked out from behind the empress at the group of boys. He saw +Berengar speak a word of apology to the biggest little duke and +disappear through the back-court.</p> + +<p>A minute later, the boy entered the room.</p> + +<p>"Berengar," said the empress, "it's very bad manners to make such a +noise in the park ... and just behind the palace too."</p> + +<p>The boy looked at her with his serious little crimson face:</p> + +<p>"Yes, mamma," he assented, gently.</p> + +<p>"What happened?"</p> + +<p>Berengar's lips began to tremble.</p> + +<p>"It was that beastly sentry ..." he began.</p> + +<p>"What about the sentry?"</p> + +<p>"He ... he didn't present arms to me!"</p> + +<p>"Didn't the sentry present arms to you? Why not?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know!" cried Berengar, indignantly.</p> + +<p>"But surely he always does?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but this time he did not. He did the first time when we passed, +but not the second time.... We were playing touch and, when we ran past +him the second time, he didn't present arms!"</p> + +<p>Othomar began to scream with laughter.</p> + +<p>"There's nothing to laugh at!" cried Berengar, angrily. "And I shall +tell papa and then you shall see."</p> + +<p>"But, Berengar," said the empress, "did you expect the man to present +arms to you every time you ran past him while you were playing touch?"</p> + +<p>Berengar reflected:</p> + +<p>"He might at least have done it the second time. If it had been three, +or four, or five times, I could have understood.... But only the second +time!... What can the boys have thought of me?"</p> + +<p>"Listen, Berengar," said the empress, "whatever happens, it is not at +all proper for you to call people names, whoever they may be, nor to +make such a noise in the park, right behind the palace. An emperor's son +never calls names, not even to a sentry. So now you must go straight to +that sentry and tell him you are sorry you lost your temper so."</p> + +<p>"Mamma!" cried the child, in consternation.</p> + +<p>The empress' face was inflexible:</p> + +<p>"I insist, Berengar."</p> + +<p>The boy looked at her with the greatest astonishment:</p> + +<p>"But am I to say that ... to the sentry, mamma?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Evidently Berengar at this moment failed to understand the order of the +universe; he suspected for an instant that the revolution had broken +out:</p> + +<p>"But, mamma, I can't do that!"</p> + +<p>"You must, Berengar, and at once."</p> + +<p>"But, mamma, will papa approve of it?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, Berengar," said Othomar. "Whatever mamma tells you to do +papa of course approves of."</p> + +<p>The boy looked up at Othomar helplessly; his little face grew long, his +sturdy little fists quivered. Then he burst into a fit of desperate +sobbing.</p> + +<p>"Come, Berengar, go," the empress repeated.</p> + +<p>The child was still more dismayed by her severity: that was how he +always saw her stare at the crowd, but not at her children. And he threw +himself with the small width of his helpless little arms into her +skirts, embraced her and sobbed, with great, gulping sobs:</p> + +<p>"I can't do it, mamma, I can't do it!"</p> + +<p>"You must, Berengar...."</p> + +<p>"And ... and ... and I <i>shan't</i>, I <i>shan't!</i>" the boy screamed, in a +sudden fury, stamping his foot.</p> + +<p>The empress did nothing but look at him, very long, very long. Her +reproachful glance crushed the boy. He sobbed aloud and seemed to forget +that his little friends outside would be sure to hear his highness +sobbing. He saw that there was nothing to be done, that he must do it. +He must! His imperial highness Berengar Marquis of Thracyna, knight of +St. Ladislas, must say he was sorry to a sentry and one moreover who +denied him, his highness, his rights.</p> + +<p>His medieval little childish soul was all upset by it. He understood +nothing more. He only saw that he must do as he was told, because his +mother looked at him with such a sad expression:</p> + +<p>"Othomar!" he sobbed, in his despair. "Othomar! Will ... you ... go with +me ... then? But how am I to do it, how am I to do it?"</p> + +<p>Othomar smiled to him compassionately and held out his hand to him. The +empress nodded to the princes to go.</p> + +<p>"How am I to do it? O God, how am I to do it?" she still heard +Berengar's voice sobbing desperately in the lobby.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth had turned deadly pale. As soon as she was alone, she sank +into a chair, with her head flung back. Hélène of Thesbia entered at +this moment:</p> + +<p>"Madam!" cried the young countess. "What is it?"</p> + +<p>The empress put out her hand; Hélène felt that it was icy cold.</p> + +<p>"Nothing, Hélène," she replied. "But Berengar frightened me so terribly. +I thought ... I thought they were murdering him!"</p> + +<p>And in an hysterical fit of spasmodic sobbing she threw herself into the +countess' arms.</p> + + + +<h3>4</h3> + +<p>That night, before Othomar left with his equerries to dine at the French +ambassador's, he drew Dutri aside:</p> + +<p>"I see, prince, that her excellency the duchess confides in you fully," +he said, in curt tones. "I do not doubt that her confidence is well +placed. But I assure you of this: if it should ever appear that it was +misplaced, I shall never—now or at any later period—forget it...."</p> + +<p>Dutri looked up strangely; he heard his future emperor address him. Then +he pouted like a sulky child and said:</p> + +<p>"I cannot say that your highness is very grateful for the hospitality +which I have offered you...."</p> + +<p>Othomar smiled painfully and gave him his hand....</p> + +<p>"Or that it is kind of your highness to threaten me to-day with your +displeasure," Dutri continued.</p> + +<p>"I know you, Dutri," the prince said in his ear. "I know your tongue. +That's my only reason for warning you.... And now, for God's sake, say +no more about this, for it ... it all gives me pain...."</p> + +<p>Dutri was silent, thought him a child and a prince in one. He shrugged +his shoulders silently at Othomar's incomparable innocence, but he +shuddered when he thought of a possible disgrace. He had no fortune; his +position with the crown-prince was his life, his ambition, his all, for +now and for later, when the prince should be emperor!... How pleased he +had been at first that Alexa had told him everything, that he knew a +secret of his prince, who never seemed to have any secrets! A vague +pleasure that this secret would give him a power over his future emperor +had already flitted through his head, full of frivolous calculations. +And now the prince was threatening him and that power was frustrated at +its very inception! And Dutri was now almost sorry that he had learned +this secret; he even feared that the emperor might come to hear of it, +that he would be visited with the father's displeasure even before the +son's....</p> + +<p>"If only Alexa had not dragged me into it!" he complained to himself, +with his shallow fickleness of thought.</p> + +<p>But, although Dutri was silent and even contradicted the rumour, the +crown-prince's <i>liaison</i> was discussed, possibly only because of Alexa's +triumphant glances whenever Othomar addressed a word to her at a +reception, at a ball. Nevertheless, Dutri's contradiction introduced a +certain confusion—for he was known as a ready blabber—and people did +not know what to think or what to believe.</p> + +<p>But Othomar did not feel happy in his love. The fierce passion of this +woman with her fiery glances, who overpowered him one moment with her +kisses and the next crept before him like a slave and crouched at his +feet in humility before her future sovereign, at first astonished him +and, in one or two of his fits of despair, carried him away, but in the +long run aroused in him a feeling of disinclination and opposition. In +the young equerry's scented flat where they met—it was as dainty as any +young girl's sitting-room and padded like a jewel-case—he sometimes +felt a wish to repulse this woman, for all that she loved him with her +strange soul and did not feign her love; he felt a wish to kick her, to +beat her. His temperament was not fit for so animal a passion. She +seemed to harry his nerves. She revolted him at times. And yet ... one +single word from him and she mastered her fierceness, sank down humbly +by his side, softly stroked his hand, his head; and he could not doubt +that she adored him, perhaps a little because he was the crown-prince, +but also greatly for himself.</p> + +<p>And so April came; already it was almost summer; the King and Queen of +Syria were expected. They had been first to the sultan and afterwards to +the court of Athens. From Liparia they were to go on to the northern +states of Europe. On the day of their arrival, Lipara fluttered with +flags; the southern sun, already potent, rained down gold upon the white +city; the harbour rippled a brilliant blue. A hum of people—tanned +faces, many peasants from Thracyna still clad in their parti-coloured +national dress—swarmed and crowded upon the quays. On the azure of the +water, as on liquid metal, the ironclads, which were to welcome the king +and queen and serve as their escort, steamed out to the mouth of the +harbour. There, on the <i>Xaveria</i>, with their suite of admirals and +rear-admirals, were the two princes, Othomar and Berengar, and their +brother-in-law, the Archduke of Carinthia. Innumerable small boats +glided rapidly over the sea, like water-spiders.</p> + +<p>A shot from Fort Wenceslas, tearing the vivid ether, announced the +moment at which the little fleet met the Syrian yacht and the oriental +potentates left her for the <i>Xaveria</i>. From the villas on the quays, +from the little boats full of sight-seers, every glass was directed +towards the blue horizon, tremulous with light, on which the ships were +still visibly shimmering. Half an hour later there rose, as though +coming from the Imperial, the cheers of the multitude, surging louder +and louder towards the harbour. Through the rows of the grenadiers, who +lined the streets from the palace to the pavilion where the august +visitors were to land, came the landaus, driven by postillions, in which +their majesties sat. These were followed by the carriages of the two +sisters, the Archduchess of Carinthia and Thera, and of the suite.</p> + +<p>The fleet, with the Syrian yacht in its centre, had steamed back into +the harbour. Across the guard-of-honour formed by the throne-guards, +through the purple draperies and the flags, the crowd were able to see +something of the meeting of the sovereigns in the pavilion. They shouted +their hurrahs; and then the procession drove to the Imperial, the +emperor with the King of Syria in the first carriage, the empress with +the queen in the next; after these, the landaus with the princes and +princesses and the suite.</p> + +<p>A series of festivals and displays followed. After the tragedies of the +inundations and the parliamentary crisis, a mood of gaiety blew over the +capital, as it glittered in the sun, and lasted till late in the lighted +rooms and parks of the Imperial. This gaiety was because of the eastern +queen. The King of Syria may have had a few drops of the blood of +Solomon still flowing through his veins. But the queen was not of royal +descent. She was the daughter of a Syrian magnate and her mother's name +was not mentioned in the <i>Almanach de Gotha</i>. That mother was doubtless +a favourite of dubious noble descent, but nobody knew who she had been +exactly. A <i>demi-mondaine</i> from Paris or Vienna, who had stranded in the +east and made her fortune in the harem of some great Syrian? A +half-European, half-Egyptian dancer from a Cairene or Alexandrian +dancing-house? Whoever she was, her lucky daughter, the Queen of Syria, +showed an unmistakable mixture of blood, something at once eastern and +European. Next to the true Semitic type of the king, who possessed a +certain nervous dignity in his half-European, half-oriental uniform +glittering with diamonds, the queen, short, fat, chubby, pale-brown, had +the exuberant smiles, the restless movements, the turning head and +rolling eyes of a woman of colour. Her very first appearance, as she sat +in the carriage, next to the delicate figure of the Empress Elizabeth, +in a gaudy travelling-dress and a hat with great feathers, bowing and +laughing on every side with profuse amiability, had affected the +Liparians, accustomed to the calm haughtiness of their own rulers, with +an apparently inextinguishable gaiety. The Queen of Syria became the +universal topic of conversation; and every conversation referring to her +was accented with a smile of wickedness. Withal she seemed so entirely +good-natured that it was impossible to say a word against her; and +people were only amused about her. They remembered that the Syrians had +subscribed fabulous sums at the time of the inundations. And the +merriment that blew over Lipara was a southern merriment, free from +malice and vented in sheer jolly laughter and delight, because the +Liparians had never seen so droll a queen.</p> + +<p>The great manoeuvres took place on the parade-ground. The king +accompanied the emperor and the princes on horseback, with a bevy of +European and oriental aides-de-camp. Their consorts with their suite +watched the march-past from landaus. Berengar marched bravely with his +company of grenadiers, in which he was a lieutenant, as well as he could +march with his short little legs, and stiffened his small features, so +as not to betray the difficulty it cost him to keep pace with his men's +long step. The hussars astonished the Syrian monarch by their unity with +their horses, when in wild career they threw themselves half off and in +still more rapid rushes picked up a flag from the ground, swung +themselves up again with a yell and waved the bunting. The Africans +executed their showy fantasias, brandished their spears, which flashed +like loosened sheaves of sunbeams, and came fluttering on in clouds of +white burnouses and dust, amid which their negro heads clustered darkly +in endless black patches and their eyes glistened.</p> + +<p>In addition there was a military tournament, followed by garden-parties, +races, regattas, popular games and fireworks. Lipara was one city of +pleasure. Every day it was traversed by royal processions, the array of +uniforms glittered like live gold, the imperial landaus rattled in the +sun, with the spokes of their wheels flashing through the light dust +which flew up from the flagged pavements of the town. Most brilliant of +all, like drops of white flame, were the diamonds which the Syrian pair +wore even in the streets. At night, when the sun ceased shining, there +shone over the white town, vague with evening light, and over its violet +harbour, festoons of salamanders and gaudy bridges of fire, factitiously +bright beneath the silent silver glances of the stars; rockets fell +hissing into the water, on which the boats showed black, and left behind +them a faint, oppressive savour of gunpowder in the night.</p> + +<p>In the great hall of pillars the ceremonial banquets followed one after +the other, with a display of gold plate of incredible value. The Queen +of Syria wore her curious, theatrical costumes, her broad bosom always +crossed by the blue ribbon of an order covered with badges; her hair was +dressed with tall plumes, hung with small diamonds. She talked with +great vivacity, thankful for the kindness of her Liparian friends, for +the enjoyment and for the cheering. Her profuse gestures enlivened +everybody, introduced an element of fun into the stately Liparian +etiquette. Elizabeth herself could not but laugh at them. The queen +played her royal part with the self-possession of a bad but good-natured +actress. She spoke to everybody, spread amiable little atoms of her +small, chubby, brown majesty over one and all. Next her sat the king, +looking dignified and wise as Solomon. The emperor praised him for a +sensible, broad-minded sovereign: the king had already paid many visits +to Europe. The Syrian aide-de-camps were dignified too, calm and +composed, a little stiff in their ways, adapting themselves to western +manners; the queen's ladies-in-waiting wore the trains of their Paris or +London dresses a little strangely, but still looked slender in them, +brown and attractive, with their curly little heads and long, +almond-shaped eyes: still they would have been prettier in draped +gold-gauze.</p> + +<p>The Syrians stayed twelve days before going on to Italy. It was the last +evening but one: in the Imperial a suite of fourteen rooms had been +lighted up around the great ballroom for a ball. Three thousand +invitations had been sent out. In the fore-court and in the neighbouring +main-streets stood the grenadiers.</p> + +<p>The ballroom was at the back of the palace; the tall, balconied windows +were open and looked across their balustrades upon the shadows of the +park of plane-trees. The band resounded from the groups of palms in the +gallery. The imperial quadrille had been formed in the centre of the +room: the emperor with the queen, the king and the empress, the Archduke +of Carinthia and Thera, Othomar with the archduchess. The other official +quadrilles formed their figures around them. Hundreds of guests looked +on.</p> + +<p>From the coruscating rock-crystal of the chandeliers, the electric light +flowed in white patches out of the high dome, glided along the +inlaid-marble walls and porphyry pillars of the ballroom and poured in +millions of scintillations on the smooth facets of the jewels, on the +gold of the uniforms and court-dresses, on the shimmering white brocades +of the trains; for white was prescribed: all the ladies were in white; +and the snow of the velvets, the lily glow of the satins were +silver-shrill. One blinding whirl of refulgence passed through the +immense room with its changing glamours. For the light never stood +still, continually changed its brightest spot, turned the ball into one +glittering kaleidoscope. The light gilded each bit of gold-lace, was +caught in every brilliant, hung in every pearl. The music seemed to be +one with that light; the brass resounded like gold.</p> + +<p>The Duchess of Yemena stood among a group of diplomatists and equerries; +she rose monumental in her beauty, which was statuesque and splendid in +this wayward illumination. She seemed supernaturally tall, thanks to the +heavy Watteau plait which trailed from her back in white brocade. She +wore her tiara of emeralds and brilliants; and the same green stones +sparkled in a great jewelled spray that blossomed over her bodice.</p> + +<p>The emperor came up to her; she drooped in her famous curtsey and Oscar +jested with her for a moment. When the emperor had passed on, she saw +the crown-prince approach. She curtseyed again; he bowed smilingly and +offered her his arm. Slowly they went through the ballroom.</p> + +<p>"I have something important to say to you," he whispered, in a +conversational tone.</p> + +<p>He could not move away with her; they would be missed. So they continued +to walk through the rooms.</p> + +<p>"It is so long since I saw you ... alone!" she whispered, reproachfully, +in the same voice. "And what did ... what did your highness wish to say +to me?"</p> + +<p>They spoke cautiously, with the smile of cool conversation on their +lips, deadening the sound of their voices, casting indifferent glances +around them, to see whether they could be overheard.</p> + +<p>"Something ... that I have long wanted to tell you.... A decision I have +to take...."</p> + +<p>The words came crumbling in fragments from his lips and not sounding +with their true accent, from caution. She perceived that he was about to +tell her some great piece of news. She trembled without knowing why.... +He himself did not know whether what he was doing was cruel or not: he +did not know this woman well enough for that. But he did know that he +had purposely chosen this difficult moment for his interview, because he +was uncertain how she would bear it ... how she would bear it in a +<i>tête-à-tête</i>, when she would be able to give way to her passion. Here +he knew how she would bear it: smilingly, as a woman of the world, +although it turned to anguish for her. Perhaps after all he was +cruel.... But it was too late now: he must go through with it.</p> + +<p>She looked up at him, moving the feathers of her fan. He continued:</p> + +<p>"A decision.... When our Syrian guests have left ... I ... I am going on +a journey...."</p> + +<p>"Where to, highness?"</p> + +<p>"To ... to different European courts...."</p> + +<p>She asked nothing more; her smile died away; then she smiled again, like +an automaton. She asked nothing more, because she well knew what it +meant when a crown-prince went on a journey to different European +courts. That meant a bridal progress. And she merely said, in a voice +that could not but sound plaintively:</p> + +<p>"So soon?..."</p> + +<p>So soon!... Was her imperial romance to last so short a time? She had +indeed known that this might be the end of it, for she knew him to be +too pure to retain her by the side of a young consort. Also she had +pictured an end like this after a year, two years perhaps, she +withdrawing herself, and she had pictured to herself that she would do +so without any feeling of spite against her young future empress. But +now! So soon! Barely a few weeks! So short a time as that no romance of +her life had ever lasted! She felt an aching melancholy; a mist hazed +over her eyes; and the lights of the ballroom shimmered before her as if +through water. She constantly forgot to smile, but, so soon as she +remembered, she smiled again:</p> + +<p>"So soon?..."</p> + +<p>"It must be...."</p> + +<p>Yes, it must be, it could not be otherwise. For her, this was the end of +her life. She felt no despair because of this ending; only a smarting +sorrow. It was the end. After this imperial romance there would be no +other. Oh no, never more! She would sacrifice her youth to it; she would +launch her stepdaughters into society. She would be grateful that she +had lived and would now grow old. But old: she was still so young, she +still felt herself so young! She now first perceived how she loved her +crown-prince. And she would have liked to be elsewhere, far from the +brilliant ball, to embrace him once more alone, for the last time.... +Oh, this sorrow because everything must end, as though nothing were more +than a fleeting perfume!...</p> + +<p>"I am trusting you, duchess," he now said. "I hope you will say nothing +about this journey. You understand, it is all still a secret; no choice +has been made yet ... it has been discussed with no one except their +majesties and Myxila. I can trust you, can't I?"</p> + +<p>She smilingly nodded yes.</p> + +<p>"But I wanted to tell you at once," he continued.</p> + +<p>She smiled again. At this moment a strange storm seemed to burst ... +behind the palace, under the palace, where? Right through the blare of +the music and the blaze of the light, a crash of thunder shook and +rolled. It was as though the palace had been struck by lightning, for +immediately afterwards, through the open windows, there came from one of +the back-wings of the palace a rattling clatter of stones, which seemed +tossed into the air, of great rafters, which fell noisily and roughly, +of shivers of glass, which seemed to be splintering shrilly on every +side....</p> + +<p>The music was suddenly silenced. The uniforms, the court-trains rushed +to the open balconies, which overlooked the park; but the night was +dark, the park was hushed. A last couple of rafters seemed to be still +falling, with a last crash of stones....</p> + +<p>In the bright glare of the electric light, faces turned deathly pale, +like the faces of corpses. Eyes stared at one another in terror. The +duchess half-sank against Othomar when she saw Elizabeth tear past her +with wild, vacant eyes and out at a door, her long, white velvet train +trailing madly after her, round the corner. The mistress of the robes +followed her; so did Hélène of Thesbia. The emperor appeared to give the +chamberlains some hurried orders; then he also left the ballroom, +accompanied by a few officers.</p> + +<p>Shortly afterwards the music again burst forth from the balcony in the +gallery. Many equerries and aides-de-camp were seen bowing to their +partners, the ladies trembling as they rose. The ball proceeded; the +uniforms and trains glittered as before in the windings of the waltz. +But the smiles seemed to have been obliterated from the dancers' +features and their pallid faces turned the ball into a dance of death.</p> + +<p>Leoni, shivering, bowed before Othomar:</p> + +<p>"A dynamite explosion, low down in the cellars of the western back-wing. +The anterooms of his majesty's private apartments are destroyed. His +majesty requests your highness to make every effort to continue the +ball. All officers and court-ladies are commanded to dance."</p> + +<p>The duchess clutched Othomar's arm, almost fainting. The rumour spread +around them. The equerries dragged their partners along half-swooning. +Two were seen carried away in a dead faint. The Queen of Syria stood +vacantly beside the Archduke of Carinthia, who put his arm round her +heavy waist to dance. She did not yet seem able to make up her mind.</p> + +<p>Othomar passed his arm round the duchess:</p> + +<p>"O God, I can't do it!" she stammered. "For God's sake, highness, don't +ask me!..."</p> + +<p>"We must," he said. "His majesty wishes it...."</p> + +<p>"His majesty wishes...." she repeated.</p> + +<p>Her legs trembled beneath her as though with electric thrills. Then she +let him take her and they danced.</p> + +<p>Every one danced.</p> + +<p>The empress had rushed up the stairs and along the galleries to the +bedroom-floor. She did not see that two ladies were following her; she +thrust back a door:</p> + +<p>"Berengar!" she screamed.</p> + +<p>The young prince's bedroom was lighted. The boy had half-risen, in his +little shirt, from his camp-bed. His valet and a chambermaid stood in +dismay in the middle of the room.</p> + +<p>"Berengar!" the empress gasped out, rejoicing when she saw him unharmed.</p> + +<p>She threw her arms around him, pressed him to her bosom.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma, you're hurting me!" cried the boy, indignantly.</p> + +<p>Her jewels had brought a drop of blood from his little bare chest. She +now embraced him more gently, with nervous sobs that choked in her +throat. A spray of diamond ostrich-feathers fell to the ground; the maid +picked them up with awkward fingers.</p> + +<p>"Mamma, are they blowing up the palace?"</p> + +<p>"No, Berengar, no, it's nothing...."</p> + +<p>"Mamma, I want to go and look! I must see what's happening!"</p> + +<p>"Berengar...."</p> + +<p>The door had been left open; the emperor entered, calmly. The ladies +stood in the corridor, waiting for the empress....</p> + +<p>"Papa, may I go with you and look?"</p> + +<p>"No, Berengar, there's nothing to see. Go to sleep...."</p> + +<p>Then he offered his arm to Elizabeth:</p> + +<p>"Madam," he said, tranquilly.</p> + +<p>She threw him an imploring glance. He continued to hold out his arm to +her. Then she kissed the boy once more, soothed him to sleep:</p> + +<p>"Wait a moment," she stammered to Oscar.</p> + +<p>She went to the glass; the maid, with her clumsy fingers, fastened the +jewelled spray to the edge of the low-cut bodice, spread out the square +train.</p> + +<p>"I'm ready," the empress said to Oscar, in a lifeless voice.</p> + +<p>She took his arm; the emperor just pressed her hand; and they nodded +once more to Berengar and went.</p> + +<p>Arm-in-arm the imperial pair appeared for the second time at the ball. +The empress was pale but smiling. She was magnificent, delicate with +dainty majesty in the trailing white velvet, upon which, on the bodice +and over the front of the skirt, flickered sprays of diamond +ostrich-feathers, formed into fleurs-de-lys. An empress' crown of +brilliants crowned her small, round head.</p> + +<p>It was two o'clock. Generally the sovereigns were accustomed to stay +till one o'clock at the court balls. The Queen of Syria, however, in her +exuberant love of life, had begged them to stay longer. They had +consented. Had they left at one o'clock, the explosion would have taken +place at the moment when Oscar would probably just have entered his +apartments. They had first talked of the anterooms only: but it would +now appear that great damage had also been done to the emperor's own +room.</p> + +<p>Supper began. They supped in a large hall; from every table rose a +palm-tree and the hall was thus turned into a forest of palms. The floor +was strewn with gold sand, which powdered the trains as their wearers +walked upon it. Electric light shone through the long leaves like +moonlight. In this moonlight the faces remained deadly white, like +patches of chalk, above the glittering crystal and all the gold plate. +The music clattered with great cymbal-strokes of brass.</p> + + + +<h3>5</h3> + +<p>"To HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN OF GOTHLAND.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 13.5em;">"IMPERIAL,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 16em;">"LIPARA,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 12em;">"—<i>May</i>, 18—.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"MY DEAREST SISTER,</p> + +<p>"At last I can find time to write to you. The excitement of the visit of +our good Syrians is over and Lipara has calmed down. But my reflections +are nothing but sadness. And this is why, Olga.</p> + +<p>"I fear that Othomar is much more ill than the doctors perceive. He has +become thinner and looks very bad. He never complains much, but yet he +told me lately that he often felt tired. The doctors think that he needs +a rest and recommend a long sea-voyage. His journey through Europe, +about which I wrote to you in my last, will have to be postponed. And +now I want to ask you a favour.</p> + +<p>"I know that Herman is soon going to take a long voyage on the <i>Viking</i> +to India, Japan and America; and it would be my fondest wish at this +moment that Othomar might accompany him. When the doctors advised a +sea-voyage, I discussed the matter to Oscar, but we came to no decision. +My boy, you must know, Olga, has no friend of his own age; and this made +me so sad and we did not know how nor with whom to send him on this +voyage in a way which would be pleasant for him and which would not +involve a solitary banishment from our home-circle. He is on excellent +terms with his equerries, but yet that is not what I should desire: a +cordial, mutual, confidential friendship with some one of his own age +with whom he could spend a certain time, solely with a view to enjoyment +and relaxation.</p> + +<p>"I know quite well that it is to some extent my boy's fault and due to +his innate diffidence and reticence. Nevertheless he has qualities for +which he could easily be loved, if they were known, if he allowed them +to appear. Don't you agree, Olga? You are fond of him too: it is not +only my own blind mother's love that finds my son lovable and +sympathetic? And that is why I should be so very glad if Herman would +take him with him and learn to know him better: who knows whether they +would not then come to love each other! Othomar has already told me +that, on their journey through the north of Liparia, they were drawn +much closer together than they had thought they would be; but it was a +busy time: every moment was filled with duties and business and they had +no time to talk together and get to know each other. And yet, at such a +difficult period of united labour, two young men can learn to know each +other even without talking. At any rate, they have already become more +friendly. At one time, Olga, they used to dislike each other, to my +bitter sorrow; they would even not meet; even outwardly there was +nothing but coolness between them: oh, how unhappy all this used to make +me, when I saw our boys so hostile to each other and remembered how <i>we</i> +used to be, Olga, when we were girls together in our beautiful old +castle near Bucharest! How we lived bound up in each other! Olga, Olga, +how terribly long ago that all is! Our parents are dead, our brothers +dispersed, the castle is deserted and we are separated: when do we see +each other? Scarcely now and then, for a couple of days at a time, when +we meet somewhere for a wedding of relations; and then these are always +restless days, when we can see next to nothing of each other. Then, +sometimes, not even every year, a fortnight either in Gothland or here. +You sometimes reproach me that I, who am so fond of Gothland, come to +you so seldom, but it is always for the same reason: Othomar does not +care to leave Liparia and I can't leave my husband. I can be strong when +I am at his side, but alone I am so weak, Olga. That anything might +happen to <i>him</i> which I should not share increases my dread unbearably. +I felt that again quite lately, when I was with Thera at Altara: our +visit was announced and binding; and, however unwilling I was to leave +Oscar, I was obliged to go, was I not? It was just at that trying +period; Lipara was under martial law. But Oscar wished me to go and I +went. Oh, how I suffered at that time!</p> + +<p>"But I am becoming used to my fears, I do not complain and I accept life +as it comes; I only hope that my boy will also learn to accept it thus. +Perhaps he will learn. Indeed it is not so easy for him, for he will +have to do more than his mother, who, as a woman, can be much more +passive; and it is easier to learn to acquiesce passively than actively. +But the Saints will surely give him strength later to bear his lot and +his crown; this I rely upon. And yet, O Olga, it makes me so immensely +sad that we are sovereigns! But let me not continue in this strain: it +weakens one, it is not right, it is not right....</p> + +<p>"There is also a secret reason why I should like to get Othomar away +from Lipara, though it always grieves me so much to part from my +darling. There seems after all to be some truth in those rumours about +the Duchess of Yemena: Oscar asked Myxila about it and he could not deny +it and even said that it was generally known. I do my best not to take +it too much to heart, Olga, but I think it a terrible thing. O God, let +me not think or write about it any more; otherwise it will go whirling +so in my poor head! What can my son see in a woman who is older than his +own mother! What a terrible world, this is, Olga, in which these things +take place; and how can there be such women, whom you and I will never +understand! For, after all, temperament is not everything: every woman +has her own heart; and in that we ought all to see one another; but it +would seem that we can't. In my sadness about this, I prefer to assume +that the woman loves my boy and therefore deceives her husband. Oh, it +is so wicked also of my boy: why need he be like this, he who is +otherwise so good! I just assume that she loves him. Not long ago we had +my last drawing-room, the function with which, as you know, our +winter-season ends; and, when she came up to me and bowed before me and +pressed her lips to my hand, she must have felt my disapproval and my +sadness radiating from my fingers, for she rose out of her curtsey with +a desperate look of anguish in her eyes and a sort of sob in her throat! +I stared at her coldly, but all the same I pitied her, Olga, for, when a +woman of our world is so little able to control herself at a ceremonial +moment, in the presence of her empress, her soul must have sustained a +severe shock: do you not think so too?</p> + +<p>"We are now quiet. In a week we are going to our summer-quarters in +Xara, at Castel Xaveria; the weather is already very hot here. I should +so much like to have your answer before we leave and to know how Herman +takes my request. I know that he is very fond of me and will doubtless +gladly grant it and that he will try to like Othomar for my sake; and +let me hasten to add that it is also <i>Othomar's</i> dearest wish that he +should travel with Herman. The sea-voyage did not attract him in the +least at first, because he knew of no one to take with him and he said +he preferred to go with us to Castel Xaveria; but, when I mentioned +Herman, he joined in my plan entirely.</p> + +<p>"Olga, what will the summer bring us, peace or not? I dare not hope. The +winter has been horrible; our northern provinces have not yet recovered +from the disasters. The misery there is irretrievable. There is an +epidemic of typhoid and there have been many cases of cholera. The +strikes in the east are now over, but I am so afraid of that rough, +violent repression. Oh, if everything could only be done with +gentleness! That attempt on Othomar's life and the explosion at the last +ball have also made me so ill. How I should love to see you and take you +in my arms: can you not come to Castel Xaveria and spend the summer with +us? It would give me such intense, such intense pleasure!</p> + +<p>"Kiss Siegfried and the children for me. And answer me soon, will you +not? I embrace you fervently.</p> + +<p>"Your affectionate sister,</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 27.5em;">"ELIZABETH."</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + + +<h3>1</h3> + +<p>August, on the Baltic. The grey billows curl against the rocks with +high, rounded crests of thick foam. The sky above is one wide cupola, +through which drift great mountain-ranges of grey-white clouds. They +come up slowly, filling the firmament with their changing, shadowy +masses, like chains of rocks and Alps floating on the air, and slowly +drift away again. The sea has a narrow beach, with many crumbling +cliffs; quite close at hand loom sombre green pine-woods. With the gloom +of the pine-woods for a background, as it were half out of the cliffs +rises old Altseeborgen. It is a weather-beaten castle, at which the +writhing waves seem to gnaw; its three tall, uneven towers soar round +and massive into the sky. The broad road to the castle slants up from +the woods terrace-wise and leads to the esplanade at the back, where the +main entrance is. Round the castle the wide granite terraces are cut +into stairs, with their rugged balustrades, whose freestone is worn away +by the salt air. These terraces enjoy a more extensive view of the sea +as they rise higher, higher; and, seen from the topmost terrace, the sea +lies against the beach, to right and left, in one great, strangely +mobile expanse, a living element. Across the sea the south-winds blow +upon the castle; the pine-woods shelter it to some extent from the +northernly gales.</p> + +<p>From the tallest tower an imposing standard flaps gaily in the air: two +yellow stripes and a white stripe between, with the dark patch of the +crenellated fortress which forms the arms of Gothland. It floats there +on the sunless morning like a smile in the sky; it swells and falls limp +again and then again lets itself be blown high up by the wind, which +comes swinging lustily over the water.</p> + +<p>A young man and a girl are walking on the beach; they talk, smile, look +at each other. She is taller than he, with a very fair complexion; under +her little sailor-hat a few of her auburn tresses, tangled by the wind, +blow across her face; she keeps on smoothing them away. She wears a +simple blue serge skirt and a white blouse, with a broad leather belt +around her waist. Her dainty little feet, in their black-silk stockings +and yellow-leather shoes, are constantly uncovered by the wind. She +carelessly swings a pair of gloves in her hand.</p> + +<p>The young man wears a light check summer suit and a straw hat. He is +short and slender; his black eyes have a look of gentle melancholy. He +appears to be telling the girl by his side a tale of travel; she +listens, with her smile.</p> + +<p>Round about them, in spite of the wind, the atmosphere is full of peace. +Walking along the beach, they go by the castle, pass round behind it and +look up. From one of the windows somebody gaily waves a hand and calls +out something. They try to hear, with their hands to their ears, but +they shrug their shoulders: the wind has blown the words away. They wave +their hands again and walk on.</p> + +<p>They do not go far, however, always along the beach. Yonder lies the +fishing-village, lie a couple of small villas, almost cottages. One of +them seems just to have been taken by a large family, for the +holiday-month no doubt; a hum of voices issues from it, children chase +one another along the beach; a tiny girl, in running, bumps against the +young man.</p> + +<p>"Hullo there!" he says, pleasantly, with a laugh.</p> + +<p>Laughing they walk on.</p> + +<p>The children run along. A fisherman comes with his nets, grins cheerily +and mutters a greeting. A fat lady in the verandah has been watching the +young people inquisitively; she sees the fisherman touch his cap and +beckons to him:</p> + +<p>"Who are that lady and gentleman?"</p> + +<p>The fisherman points cheerily to Altseeborgen:</p> + +<p>"From the castle."</p> + +<p>"But who are they?" asks the lady, alarmed.</p> + +<p>"Well, the gentleman is the Prince of Liparia and the young lady is an +Austrian princess," says the fisherman, as if it could not well be +anybody else.</p> + +<p>The lady looks in dismay after the princely pair and then in despair at +her running children. The young couple are just turning back in their +walk; they are now laughing even more gaily than before and are +hastening a little towards the castle, as though they had delayed too +long. The lady, still pale, does not dare to offer excuses, but makes a +low bow; she receives a pleasant greeting in return.</p> + + + +<h3>2</h3> + +<p>The royal family of Gothland were in the habit of spending the whole +summer at Altseeborgen. The beach was particularly well-suited for +laying out a watering-place around the fishing-village, but King +Siegfried would never hear of this: the beach and the village were royal +domains; a few modest villas were all that he had granted permission to +build. Generally these were visited in the summer by two or three +middle-class families with their children. Altseeborgen should never +become a modern bathing-place, however excellent the fashionable world +might consider it as a means of summer display, lying as it did in the +immediate neighbourhood of the royal castle.</p> + +<p>But the Gothlandic family made a point of guarding the freedom of their +summer lives. They lived there for four months, without +palace-etiquette, in the greatest simplicity. They formed a numerous +family; and there were always many visitors. The king attended to +state-affairs in homely fashion at the castle. His grandchildren would +run into his room while he was discussing important business with the +prime minister, who came down to Altseeborgen on certain days. He just +patted their flaxen curls and sent them away to play, with a caress. +Staying at the castle were the Crown-prince Gunther and the +Crown-princess Sofie, a German princess—Duke and Duchess of +Wendeholm—with their four children, a girl and three boys. Next to the +duke came Prince Herman; next to him Princess Wanda, twenty years of +age; next to her, the younger princes, Olaf and Christofel. In addition +there were always two old princesses, sisters of the king, widows of +German princes. From all the courts of Europe, which were as one great +family, different members came from time to time to stay, bringing with +them their respective <i>nuances</i> of a different nationality, something +exotic in voice and manner, so far as all this was not merged in their +cosmopolitanism.</p> + +<p>Othomar had been three months at sea with Herman; they had touched shore +in India, China, Japan and America. They had travelled incognito, so as +to escape all official receptions, and Othomar had borne no other title +than that of Prince Czykirski. The voyage had done Othomar much good: he +was even feeling so well that he had written to the Empress Elizabeth +that he would like to stay some time longer in the family-circle at +Altseeborgen, but that he would afterwards undertake his +long-contemplated journey to the European courts.</p> + +<p>Their easy life in each other's company had done much to bring the +cousins closer together. Herman had learnt to see in Othomar, beneath +his stiffness and lack of ease, a young crown-prince who was afraid of +his future, but who possessed much reasonableness and was willing to +learn to acquiesce in life and to fortify himself for his coming yoke of +empire. He understood Othomar and felt sorry for him. He himself took a +vital pleasure in life: merely to breathe was an enjoyment; his +existence as a second son, with only his naval duties, which he loved by +heredity, as a descendant of the old sea-kings might well love them, +opened before him a prospect of nothing but continued, cloudless freedom +from care; that he was a king's son gave him nothing but satisfaction +and delight; and he appreciated his high estate with jovial pleasure, +skimming the cream from a chalice out of which Othomar in due time would +drink gall and wormwood. If at first he compared Othomar with his +brother, the Duke of Wendeholm—a crown-prince too, of Gothland +he—Herman now compared them no longer; his judgement had become more +reasonable: he understood that no comparison was possible. Liparia was a +tremendous, almost despotic empire; the people, especially in the south, +always very fickle, always kept in check by force, on account of their +childish uncertainty as to what, in their capriciousness, they would do +next. The Gothlanders, on the other hand, calmly liberal in temperament, +devoid of noisy vehemence, ranged themselves peacefully, with their +long-established, ample constitution, round King Siegfried, whom they +called the father of his country. That Gunther was not afraid of having +to wear the crown one day, was this a reason why Othomar should be +without his fear? Did Othomar not possess the gentler qualities, which +are valued in the narrow circle of intimate surroundings and arouse +esteem among a few sympathetic natures, rather than that fiercer +brilliancy of character, which makes its possessor stand out in clear +relief in high places and awakens admiration in the multitude? Was this +boy, with his soul full of scruples, his nostalgia after justice, his +yearning for love, his easily wounded sensitiveness, was he the son of +his ancestors, the descendant of Berengar the Strong, Wenceslas the +Cruel, son of the warlike Xaveria, or was he not rather the child of his +gentle mother alone?</p> + +<p>It was not in Herman's way to reflect much and long on all this, but it +came to him suddenly, abruptly, like a new view that is opened out in a +brighter light. And what had been antipathy in him became compassion, +friendship and astonishment at the disposition of the universe, which +knew not what else to do with a soul like Othomar's but to crush it +beneath a crown.</p> + +<p>The simple family-life at Altseeborgen worked on Othomar like a cure. He +felt himself reviving amid natural surroundings, his humanity developing +wide and untrammelled. Accustomed as he was to the ceremonial life of +the Imperial, with its court-etiquette strictly maintained by the +Emperor Oscar, he was at first surprised, but soon delighted by the +almost homely simplicity of his Gothlandic relations. In former years, +it is true, he had paid an occasional brief visit to Altseeborgen, but +had never stayed long enough to be able to count himself, as now, quite +one of themselves.</p> + +<p>Othomar was at this moment the only visitor from abroad, except the +Archduchess Valérie, a niece of the Emperor of Austria. Did the young +people suspect anything, or not? Were their names coupled together by +the younger princes and princesses? Not so, to all outward seeming: only +once or twice had Princess Sofie or Princess Wanda found it necessary to +hush her young brothers with a glance. And yet it was with a serious +intention that the Queen of Gothland, in concert with the Emperor of +Liparia and Valérie's parents—the Archduke Albrecht and the Archduchess +of Eudoxie, who lived at Sigismundingen Castle—had brought the young +people together. The Emperor Oscar would certainly have preferred one of +the young Russian grand-duchesses, a niece of the Czar, for his +daughter-in-law; but the difference in religion remained an +insurmountable obstacle; and the emperor, despite his preference, had no +objection to the Austrian alliance.</p> + +<p>Perhaps Othomar and Valérie divined this intention, but the secret +caused no constraint between them; they were both so accustomed to +hearing the names of well-known princes or princesses connected with +theirs and even to seeing them mentioned in the papers: announcements of +betrothals which were immediately contradicted; they had even jested +together about the number of times that public opinion had married them +to this one or to that, each time to somebody else; sometimes even the +news came as a surprise to themselves, which they found in the +newspapers and laughed at. They paid no heed therefore to the rare +mischievous remarks of Prince Olaf or Prince Christofel, sturdy lads of +seventeen and fifteen, who thought it great fun to tease. And all this +time Queen Olga, so sensible and reasonable, brought not the least +influence to bear upon them. She had invited them together, but she did +nothing more. Perhaps she observed silently how they behaved towards +each other and wrote just one letter on the subject to her sister, but +she kept quite outside the meshes which were weaving between their two +crowned lives. Yet it was difficult for her to stand aloof. She was fond +of Valérie and thought that this marriage would be in every way good. +But added to that came urgent letters from Sigismundingen and even from +Vienna, where they wished for nothing more eagerly than to see the young +archduchess Duchess of Xara. For this, apart from the natural +inclination of the Austrian court to set store by a renewed alliance +with Liparia, there were other reasons of a more intimate character.</p> + + + +<h3>3</h3> + +<p>The sun had appeared through the clouds in the afternoon and made the +grey of the sky and the water turn blue with the hazy blueness of a +northern summer. The sea glowed and put on scales of gold; the +weather-beaten castle stood blistering its broad granite pile in the +sun, as an old man does his back. The striped canvas awning was lowered +on the top terrace, which led into the great hall through three glass +doors. Rugs lay scattered over the ground. Princess Sofie and the +Archduchess Valérie sat in great wickerwork chairs, painting in +water-colours. From the hall sounded, monotonously, the soft exercises +of Princess Elizabeth, the crown-princess' eldest daughter, who was +practising. Princess Wanda sat on the ground, romping a trifle +boisterously with her youngest two nephews, Erik and Karl. On a long +wicker chair lay Prince Herman, with both legs up; next to him was a +little table heaped with newspapers and periodicals, some of which had +fallen to the ground; a great tumbler of sherry-cobbler stood on the +wicker ledge of his chair; the blue smoke rose from a cigarette between +his fingers.</p> + +<p>Sofie and Valérie compared their sketches and laughed. They looked at +the sky, which was bisected by the awning: the clouds, woolly white, +surged one above the other; the sea was dazzling with its golden scales, +like a giant cuirass.</p> + +<p>"What are you two painting there?" asked Herman, who was turning the +pages of an illustrated paper.</p> + +<p>"Clouds," replied Valérie, "nothing but clouds. I have persuaded Sofie +to make studies of clouds with me. Presently, if you're not too lazy, +you must come and look at my album." She gave a little laugh. "It +contains nothing but clouds!"</p> + +<p>"By Jove!" drawled Herman. "How very odd!..."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Sofie, dreamily, "clouds are very nice, but you never know +how to catch them: they change every instant."</p> + +<p>"Erik," said Herman, "just ask Aunt Valérie to lend me her album."</p> + +<p>"No, no," cried Wanda, "go and fetch it yourself, lazybones!..."</p> + +<p>But Erik wanted to go; and there came a great struggle. Wanda hugged the +little fellow tight in her arms; Karl joined in: there was a general +romp and Wanda, laughing, fell sideways to the ground.</p> + +<p>"But, Wanda!" said Sofie, reprovingly.</p> + +<p>Valérie stood up and went to Herman:</p> + +<p>"With all this, you're not seeing my clouds, you lazy boy. I suppose I +must take pity on you. Look...."</p> + +<p>Herman now suddenly drew himself up and took the album:</p> + +<p>"How funny!" he said. "Yellow and white and violet and pink. All +sunsets!"</p> + +<p>"And sunrises. I dare say I see more of them than you do!"</p> + +<p>"The things you see in clouds, Valérie! It's astonishing. How one person +differs from another! I should never take it into my head to go and +sketch clouds. You ought to come for a cruise with me one day; then you +could make whole collections of clouds."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you propose that earlier?" said Valérie, jestingly. "Then I +might have joined you and Xara."</p> + +<p>"But where is Othomar?" said Herman.</p> + +<p>Valérie said that she did not know....</p> + +<p>Herman sipped his sherry-cobbler. Wanda wanted a taste, but Herman +refused and told her to ring for a glass for herself. Wanda insisted; he +seized her by the wrists.</p> + +<p>"But Wanda!" Sofie repeated, reprovingly, languidly, drawing her hand +over her forehead and laying down her brush.</p> + +<p>Wanda laughed gaily:</p> + +<p>"But Wanda!" she mimicked.</p> + +<p>And they all laughed at Sofie, including Sofie herself:</p> + +<p>"Did I speak like that?" she asked, with her languid voice. "I don't +know: I get so sleepy here, so lazy...."</p> + +<p>They were all making fun of Sofie, when voices sounded from the hall, +shrill, old voices. It was the two dowagers, with Othomar; the old +ladies were talking in a courtly, mincing way to the young prince, who +brought them chairs. The aunts had had a siesta after lunch; they now +made their reappearance, with tapestrywork in large reticules. All +greeted them with great respect, beneath which lurked a spark of +mischief.</p> + +<p>"<i>Pardon, lieber Herzog</i>," murmured old Princess Elsa, the older of the +two, "I would rather have that little chair...."</p> + +<p>Princess Marianne also wanted a small, straight chair; the old ladies +thanked Othomar with an obeisance for his gallantry, sat down stiffly +and began their embroidery: great coats-of-arms for chair-backs. They +were very stately, with clear-cut but wrinkled faces, grey <i>tours</i> and +black lace caps; they wore crackling watered-silk gowns, of +old-fashioned cut. Now and then they exchanged a quick, sharp word, with +a sudden crackling movement of their sharp cockatoo-profiles; they gazed +thoughtfully for a moment out to sea, as though they were bound to see +something important arriving out of the distance; then they resumed +their work. Their old-fashioned, stately, tight-laced, shrivelled +figures formed a strange contrast with the easiness of the young people +in their simple serge summer suits: they made Princess Wanda's tangled +hair and rumpled blouse look perfectly disreputable.</p> + +<p>A third old lady came sailing up; she seemed as though she were related +to the two dowagers, but was actually Countess von Altenburg, who used +to be mistress of the household to Princess Elsa. Behind her were two +footmen, carrying trays with coffee and pastry, the old princesses' +<i>goûter</i>. The countess made a stately curtsey before the young princes.</p> + +<p>"The territory is occupied," whispered Herman to Valérie.</p> + +<p>They had all sat down again and among themselves were teasing Othomar +with his three Fates, as they called them, unheard by the aunts or the +countess, who was rather deaf. A noisy babel of tongues ensued: the +aunts spoke German and screamed, to make themselves heard, something +about the calmness of the sea into the poor old ears of the countess, +who poured out the coffee and nodded that she understood. The younger +princes talked English for the most part; Herman sometimes spoke a word +or two of Liparian to Othomar; and the children, who had gone to play on +a lower terrace, chattered noisily in Gothlandic and French +indifferently.</p> + +<p>The footmen had brought out afternoon tea and placed it before Princess +Sofie, when a lady-in-waiting appeared. She bowed to the young +crown-princess and said, in Gothlandic:</p> + +<p>"Her majesty requests your royal highness to come to her in the small +drawing-room."</p> + +<p>"Mamma has sent for me," said Princess Sofie, in English, rising from +her chair. "Wanda, will you pour out the tea? Children, will you go +upstairs and get dressed? Wanda, tell them again, will you?"</p> + +<p>The crown-princess went through the hall, a great, round, dome-shaped +apartment, full of stags' antlers, elks' heads, hunting-trophies, and +then up a staircase. In the queen's anteroom the footman opened the door +for her. Queen Olga was sitting alone; she was some years older than her +sister, the Empress of Liparia, taller and more heavily built; her +features, however, had much in common with Elizabeth's, but were more +filled out.</p> + +<p>"Sofie," she at once began, in German, "I have had a letter from +Sigismundingen...."</p> + +<p>The Duchess of Wendeholm had sat down:</p> + +<p>"Anything to do with Valérie?" she asked, in alarm.</p> + +<p>"Yes," the queen said, with a reflective glance. "Poor child!..."</p> + +<p>"But what is it, Mamma?"</p> + +<p>"There, read for yourself...."</p> + +<p>The queen handed the letter to her daughter-in-law, who read it +hurriedly. The letter was from the Archduchess Eudoxie, Valérie's +mother, written with a feverish, excited hand, and said, in phrases +which tried to seem indifferent but which betrayed a great satisfaction, +that Prince Leopold of Lohe-Obkowitz was at Nice with Estelle Desvaux, +the well-known actress, that he was proposing to resign his titular +rights in favour of his younger brother and that he would then marry his +mistress. The letter requested the queen or the crown-princess to tell +this to Valérie, in the hope that it would not prove too great a shock +to her. Further, the letter ended with violent attacks upon Prince +Leopold, who had caused such a scandal, but at the same time with +manifest expressions of delight that now perhaps Valérie would no longer +dream of becoming the lady of a domain measuring six yards square! The +archduke added a postscript to say that this was not a vague report but +a certainty and that Prince Leopold himself had told it to their own +relations at Nice, who had written to Sigismundingen.</p> + +<p>"Has Valérie ever spoken to you about Prince Lohe?" asked the queen.</p> + +<p>"Only once in a way, mamma," replied the Duchess of Wendeholm, handing +back the letter. "But we all know well enough that this news will be a +great blow to her. Is she not in the least prepared for it?"</p> + +<p>"Probably not: you see, we had none of us heard or read anything about +it! Shall I tell her? Poor child!..."</p> + +<p>"Shall I do so, mamma? As I told you, Valérie <i>has</i> spoken to me...."</p> + +<p>"Very well, you do it...."</p> + +<p>The duchess reflected, looked at the clock:</p> + +<p>"It is so late now: I'll tell her after dinner; we are none of us +dressed yet.... What do you think?"</p> + +<p>"Very well then, after dinner...."</p> + +<p>The crown-princess went out: it was time to hurry and dress. At seven +o'clock a loud, long bell sounded. They assembled in the hall; the +dining-room looked out with its large bow-windows upon the pine-forest. +It was a long table: King Siegfried, a hale old sovereign with a full, +grey beard; Queen Olga; the Crown-prince Gunther, tall, fair, +two-and-thirty; Princess Sofie and her children; Othomar, sitting +between his aunt and Valérie; Herman and Wanda; Olaf and Christofel; the +two dowagers with Countess von Altenburg; equerries, ladies-in-waiting, +chamberlains, Princess Elizabeth's governess, the little princes' +tutors....</p> + +<p>The conversation was cheerful and unconstrained. The ladies wore simple +evening-frocks; the king was in dress-clothes, the younger princes and +equerries in dinner-jackets. The young princesses wore light summer +dresses of white serge or pink <i>mousseline-de-laine</i>; they had stuck a +flower or two from the conservatory into their waist-bands.</p> + +<p>Valérie talked merrily; Herman once more teased her about her +cloud-sketches, but Othomar said that he admired them very much. Queen +Olga and Princess Sofie exchanged a glance and were quieter than the +others. The king also looked very thoughtfully at the young people. +After dinner the family dispersed; the crown-prince and Herman went for +a row on the sea, with the younger princes and the children, in two +boats. Wanda and Valérie, their arms wound around each other's waists, +strolled up and down along the front-terrace; the awning was already +drawn up for the night. The sea was still blue, the sky pearl-grey and +no longer so bright; above the horizon the sun still burnt ragged rents +in the widely scattered clouds.</p> + +<p>The girls strolled about, laughed, looked at the two little boats on the +sea and waved to them. Very far away, a steamer passed, finely outlined, +with a dirty little ribbon of smoke. The young princes shouted, "Hurrah! +Hurrah!" and hoisted their little flag.</p> + +<p>"Do look at those papers of Herman's!" said Valérie. "Aunt Olga hates +that untidiness...."</p> + +<p>She pointed to all the magazines and newspapers which the servants had +forgotten to clear away. They lay over the long wicker chair, on the +table and on the ground.</p> + +<p>"Shall I ring to have them cleared away?" asked Wanda.</p> + +<p>"Oh, never mind!" said Valérie.</p> + +<p>She herself picked up one or two papers, folded them, put them together; +Wanda again waved to the boats with her handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"My God!" she suddenly heard Valérie murmur, faintly.</p> + +<p>She looked round: the young archduchess had turned pale and sunk into a +chair. She had dropped the papers again; one of them she held tight, +crushing it convulsively; she looked down at it with eyes vacant with +terror:</p> + +<p>"It's not true," she stammered. "They always lie.... They lie!"</p> + +<p>"What is it, Valérie?" cried Wanda, frightened.</p> + +<p>At this moment the Duchess of Wendeholm came out through the hall:</p> + +<p>"Valérie!" she called.</p> + +<p>The girl did not hear. The duchess came nearer:</p> + +<p>"Valérie!" she repeated. "Could I talk to you for a moment, alone?"</p> + +<p>The archduchess raised her pale little face. She seemed not to hear, not +to understand.</p> + +<p>"My God!" whispered the duchess to Wanda. "Does she know?"</p> + +<p>"What?" asked Wanda.</p> + +<p>But a footman also came through the hall; he carried a silver tray with +letters. There were a couple of letters for the duchess; he presented +them to her first; then one to Valérie. In spite of her blurred eyes, +the archduchess seemed to see the letter; she snatched at it greedily. +The man withdrew.</p> + +<p>"O ... God!..." she stammered at last.</p> + +<p>She pulled the letter from the envelope, half-tearing it in her +eagerness, and read with crazy eyes. Sofie and Wanda looked at her in +dismay.</p> + +<p>"O ... God!" screamed the archduchess in agony. "It's true ... it's true +... it's true! ... Oh!..."</p> + +<p>She rose, trembling, looked about her with wild eyes and threw herself +madly into the duchess' arms. A loud sob burst from her throat, as +though a pistol-shot had gone through her heart.</p> + +<p>"He writes it to me himself!" she cried out. "Himself! It's true what +the paper says.... Oh!..."</p> + +<p>And she broke down, with her head on Sofie's shoulder. Sofie led her +back into the hall; Valérie allowed herself to be dragged along like a +child. Wanda followed, crying, wringing her hands, without knowing why. +From the boats, which were now very far away, the young princes waved +once more; little Princess Elizabeth even tried to call out something; +she could not understand why Wanda and Valérie were such muffs as not to +wave back.</p> + +<p>The sun sank on the horizon; the glowing clouds were all masked in +little frothy, gold-rose mists with shining edges; but evening fell, the +sky grew dark: one by one the little pink clouds melted away; still one +last cloud, as though with two wings formed of the last rays of the +setting sun, flickered up softly, as if to fly, and then suddenly sank, +with broken wings, into the violet dusk. The first stars twinkled, +brightly visible.</p> + + + +<h3>4</h3> + +<p>Next morning, very early, at half-past five, the Archduchess Valérie +climbed down the terraces of Altseeborgen. She had merely told her maid +that she would be back in time for breakfast, which the family took +together. Resolutely, as though impulsively, she descended terrace after +terrace. She met nobody but a couple of servants and sentries. She +walked along the bottom terrace to the sea; there was a little square +harbour, cut out of the granite, where the rowing- and sailing-boats lay +moored in a boat-house. She chose a long, narrow gig and unhooked it +from its iron chain. She took her seat adroitly and grasped the sculls: +a few short strokes took her clear of the little harbour and out to sea.</p> + +<p>A south-westerly wind was blowing over the sea. The water was strangely +grey, as though it were mirroring in its oval the uncertain sky above: a +dull-white sky in which hung dirty shreds of clouds blown asunder. The +horizon was not visible; light mists floated over it, blotting out the +division between sea and sky with smeared tints. The wind blew up +strongly.</p> + +<p>Valérie removed her little sailor-hat; and her hair blew across her +face. She had intended to row to the fishing-village, but she at once +felt that it was beyond her strength to work up against the wind. So she +let herself go with the wind. For a moment she thought of the weather, +the wind, the sky; then she cast aside all thought. She pulled sturdily +at the sculls.</p> + +<p>Though the sea was comparatively calm, the boat was constantly swinging +over the smooth back of a wave and then sinking down again. Splashes of +spray flew up. When Valérie, after a little while, looked round, she was +a trifle startled to see Altseeborgen receding so far from her. She +hesitated once more, but soon let herself go again....</p> + +<p>On leaving the castle, she had had no thought, only an impulse to act. +Now, with her very action, thought rose up again within her, as though +roused from its lethargy by the wind. Valérie's eyes stared before her, +wide and burning, without tears.</p> + +<p>It was true, it was real. This was the wheel continually revolving in +her thoughts. It was true, it was real. It was in the papers which +Herman had been skimming through for hours; Sofie had told her; his own +letter informed her of it.</p> + +<p>She no longer had that letter, it was destroyed. But every word was +still branded on her imagination.</p> + +<p>It was his letter, written in his own words, in his style. How she had +once worshipped his every word! But these words, were they indeed his? +Did he write like that? Could she picture to herself that he would ever +speak thus to her?</p> + +<p>He would not like to make her unhappy by loving her against the wish of +her parents, her imperial relations. It was true, of course, that he was +not her equal in birth. His house was of old nobility, but nothing more. +She was of the blood royal and imperial. He was grateful to her for +stooping to him and wishing to raise him to her level. But it was not +right to do this. The traditions of mankind should be inviolate: it was +not right, especially for them, the great ones of the earth, to act +against tradition. They should be grateful for the love which had +brought happiness to their souls, but they must not expect more. It was +not the wish of Vienna that they should love each other. Would he ever +be able to make her entirely happy, would she, if they were married and +retired with their love to a foreign country, never look back with +yearning and feel homesick for the splendour from which he had dragged +her down? For, if they married, he would be still less her equal than he +was before, thanks to his emperor's disfavour. No, no, it could not be. +They must part. They were not born for each other. For a short moment +they had shared the glorious illusion that they were indeed born for +each other; that was all. He would be grateful to her for that memory +all his life long.</p> + +<p>With a breaking heart he took leave of her: farewell, farewell! It was +all over: his proud career, his life, his all. He begged her to forgive +him. He knew that he was too weak to love her against the will of his +sovereign. And for that he begged her to forgive him. She would hear a +woman's name mentioned in connection with his own: for this also he +begged her pardon. He did not love that woman, but she was willing to +console him in his grief....</p> + +<p>The wind had suddenly increased in violence, with heavy, regular blasts. +The sky was dark overhead. The waves rolled more wildly against the boat +and swung it up on their backs as it were on the backs of sleek +sea-monsters. The spray had wetted Valérie. She looked round. +Altseeborgen lay very far away, scarcely within sight; she could just +see the flag defined against the sky like a tiny ribbon.</p> + +<p>"I must be mad," she thought. "Where am I going to?... I must turn +back...."</p> + +<p>But it was difficult to bring the boat round. Each time the wind beat it +off again and drove it farther. Despair came upon Valérie, body and +soul, moral and physical despair.</p> + +<p>"Well, let it be," she thought.</p> + +<p>She let the sculls drop, drifted farther away, away. And why not? Why +should she not let herself drift away? Without him, without him ... she +could not live! Her happiness was ruined; what was life without +happiness? For she wanted happiness, it was essential to her....</p> + +<p>She sat half-huddled in the boat. The sculls flapped against the sides. +A wave broke over her. Her eyes stared burning before her, into the +distance.</p> + +<p>A second wave broke; her feet were wet through. She slowly drew herself +up, looked at the angry sea, at the lowering sky. Then she grasped the +sculls again, with a sigh of pain:</p> + +<p>"Come on!" she thought.</p> + +<p>She rose higher and sank lower. But with a frantic effort she made the +boat turn:</p> + +<p>"It <i>shall!</i>" she bit out between her teeth. She kept the boat's head to +the wind and began to row. It <i>shall</i>. She wrinkled her forehead, +gnashed her jaws, grated her teeth together. She felt her muscles +straining. And she rowed on, up against the wind. With her whole body +she struggled up against the stiff breeze. It <i>shall</i>. It <i>must</i>. And +she grew accustomed to the exertion; she rowed on mechanically. So much +accustomed did she grow to it that she began to sob as she rowed....</p> + +<p>O God, how she had loved him, with all her soul! Why? Could she tell? +Oh, if he had only been a little stronger, she would have been so too! +What mattered to them the disfavour of her uncle the emperor, so long as +they loved each other? What the fury of their parents, so long as they +loved each other? What did they care for all Europe, so long as they +cared for each other? Nothing, nothing at all.... If he had only dared +to grasp happiness for them, when it fluttered before them, as it +flutters only once before mortal men! But he had not dared, he felt +himself too weak to risk that grasp, he acknowledged it himself.... And +now ... now it was over, over, over....</p> + +<p>As she sobbed she rowed on. Her arms seemed to swell, to burst asunder. +A few thick drops of rain fell. What was she really rowing on for? The +sea meant death, release from life, oblivion, the extinction of +scorching pain. Then why did she row on?</p> + +<p>"O God, I don't know!" she answered herself aloud. "But I must! I +must!..."</p> + +<p>And with successive jerks of her strong imperial body she worked herself +back, towards life....</p> + +<p>But at Altseeborgen they were in great alarm. It was three hours since +Valérie had left the castle. The maid was unable to say more than that +her highness had assured her she would be back to breakfast. The +sentries had seen her go down the terraces, but had paid no further heed +to the direction which her highness had taken. They thought it was +towards the woods, but they were not sure....</p> + +<p>Every minute the alarm increased; no suspicion was uttered, but they all +read it in one another's eyes. King Siegfried ordered that they should +themselves set out and search quietly, so as to attract no attention +among the household and the people of the village. There could be no +question of her having lost her way: the pine-woods were not extensive +and Valérie knew Altseeborgen well. And there was nothing besides the +woods, the beach and the village.</p> + +<p>The king and the crown-prince themselves went into the woods, with an +equerry. Herman and his younger brother Olaf went into the village, to +the left; Othomar and Christofel along the sea, to the right. The queen +remained behind with the princesses, in palpitating uncertainty. For all +their efforts to bear up and to eat their breakfasts, a sort of rumour +had already spread through the castle.</p> + +<p>Othomar had gone with Christofel along the rocky shore; the rain began +to come down, in hard, thick drops.</p> + +<p>"What are we really looking for here?" asked Othomar, helplessly.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps she has thrown herself into the sea!" answered the young +prince.</p> + +<p>And for the first time of his life, he felt afraid of those depths, +which meant death. Unconsciously they went on, on, on....</p> + +<p>"Let's go back," said Othomar.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless they continued to go on; they could not give in....</p> + +<p>Then a scream sounded over the water: they started, but at first saw +nothing.</p> + +<p>"Did you hear?" asked Christofel, turning pale, thinking of ghostly +legends of the sea.</p> + +<p>"A sea-mew, I expect," said Othomar, listening, however.</p> + +<p>The scream was repeated.</p> + +<p>"There, don't you see something?" asked Christofel, pointing.</p> + +<p>He pointed to a long streak that came surging over the water.</p> + +<p>Othomar shook his head:</p> + +<p>"No, that's impossible!" he said. "It's a fisher-lad."</p> + +<p>"No, no, it's a rowing-boat!" cried Christofel.</p> + +<p>They said nothing more, they ran along. The streak became plainer: a +gig; the scream rang out again, piercingly.</p> + +<p>"My God!... Valérie!" shouted Othomar.</p> + +<p>She called back a few words; he only partly understood them. She was +rowing not far from the shore towards the castle. Othomar took off his +coat, his shoes, his socks, turned up his trousers, his shirt-sleeves.</p> + +<p>"Take those with you," he cried to Christofel, "and go back to the +castle, tell them...."</p> + +<p>He ran on his bare feet over the rocks and into the sea, flung himself +into the water, swam out to the boat. It was very difficult for him to +climb into the little gig without capsizing it. It lurched madly to +right and left; however, with a single, quick, light movement, Othomar +managed to jump in.</p> + +<p>"I give up...." said Valérie, faintly.</p> + +<p>She let go the sculls; he seized them and rowed on. For an instant she +fell against him, but then sat up straight, so as not to hamper him.</p> + + + +<h3>5</h3> + +<p>The young archduchess did not appear at luncheon; she was asleep. Not +long before dinner—it was raining and the queen was taking tea in the +hall with the princesses, the aunts, the children—she appeared. She +looked rather pale; her face was a little drawn, her eyes strangely wide +and burning. She was wearing a simple summer costume of some soft, +pale-lilac material, with two white ribbons tied round her waist; the +colour went well with her strange hair, which now looked brown and then +again seemed auburn. The queen held out her hand to Valérie, shook her +head and said:</p> + +<p>"You naughty girl! How you frightened us!"</p> + +<p>Valérie kissed the queen on the forehead:</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, aunt. The wind was so strong, I could hardly make way +against it. I oughtn't to have gone. But I felt a need ... for +movement."</p> + +<p>The queen looked at her anxiously:</p> + +<p>"How are you feeling now?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well, aunt! Rather stiff; and a little headache. It's nothing. +Only my hands are terribly blistered: just look...."</p> + +<p>And she laughed.</p> + +<p>The old aunts asked for copious details of what had happened: it was +difficult to make them understand. Wanda sat down between the two of +them, told them the story; their sharp cockatoo-profiles kept on wagging +up and down at Wanda, in astonishment. The aunts pressed their hands to +their hearts and looked at Valérie with terror in their eyes; she smiled +to them pleasantly. When Countess von Altenburg appeared, the aunts took +the old mistress of the household between them and in their turn told +her the story, screeching it into the countess' poor old ears. King +Siegfried entered; he went up to Valérie, who rose, took her head in his +hands, looked at her and shook his grey head; nevertheless he smiled. +Then he looked at his sisters; he was always amused at them; they were +still in the middle of their story to the countess and kept on taking +the words out of each other's mouths.</p> + +<p>"Come, it was not so dreadful as all that!" said the king, interrupting +them. "It's very nice to go rowing like that, once in a way, and an +excellent remedy for a sick-headache. You ought to try it, Elsa, when +you have one of yours."</p> + +<p>The old princess looked at him with a sugary smile; she never knew +whether her brother meant a remark of this kind or not. She shook her +stately head slowly from side to side:</p> + +<p>"No, <i>lieber Siegfried</i>, that is more than we can do. <i>Unsere liebe +Erzherzogin</i> is still a young thing!..."</p> + +<p>Othomar, Gunther and Herman entered: they had been playing billiards; +the young princes followed them. Valérie gave a little shiver, rose and +went up to Othomar:</p> + +<p>"I thank you, Xara," she said. "I thank you a thousand, thousand times!"</p> + +<p>"But what for?" replied Othomar, simply. "I did no more than row you a +bit of the way back. There was no danger. For, if you had been too tired +to go on rowing, you could always have jumped into the sea and swum +ashore. You're a strong swimmer. You would only have lost the boat."</p> + +<p>She looked at him:</p> + +<p>"That's true," she said. "But I never thought of it. I was ... +bewildered perhaps. I should not have done that; I had a fixed idea that +I had to row back. If I hadn't been able to keep on rowing, I should +certainly.... Don't refuse my thanks, I beg of you: accept them."</p> + +<p>She put out her hand; he pressed it. He looked up at her with quiet +surprise and failed to understand her. He did not doubt but that she had +that morning left the castle with the intention of committing suicide. +Had she felt remorse on the water, or had she not dared? Did she want to +live on and did she therefore turn back? Was she so shallow that she had +already recovered from the great grief which had crushed her the night +before? Did she realize that life rolls with indifferent chariot-wheels +over everything, whether joy or pain, that is part of ourselves and that +it is best to care for nothing and also to feel nothing? What of all +this applied to her? He was unable to fathom it. And once more he saw +himself standing perplexed before the question of love! What was this +feeling worth, if it weighed so little in a woman's heart? How much did +it weigh with him for Alexa? What was it then?... Or was it something +... something quite different?</p> + +<p>At dinner Valérie talked as usual and he continued not to understand +her. It irritated him, his want of penetration of the human heart: how +could he develop it? A future ruler ought to be able to see things at a +glance.... And suddenly, perhaps merely because of his desire for human +knowledge, the thought arose within him that she was concealing her +emotions, that perhaps she was still suffering intensely, but that she +was pretending and bearing up: was she not a princess of the blood? They +all learnt that, they of the blood, to pretend, to bear up! It was bred +in their bones. He looked at her askance, as he sat next to her: she was +quietly talking across him to the queen. He did not know whether he had +guessed right and he still hesitated between the two thoughts: was she +bearing up, or was she shallow? But, yet he was happy at being able to +hesitate about her and to refute that first suspicion of shallowness by +his second thought. He was happy in this, not solely because of Valérie, +that she should be better than he had thought at first; he was happy +especially for the general conclusion which he was able to draw: that a +person is mostly better, thinks more deeply, cherishes nobler feelings +than he allows to appear in the everyday commonplaces of life, which +compel him to occupy himself with momentary trifles and phrases. A +delicate satisfaction took possession of him that he had thought this +out so, a contentment that he had discovered something beautiful in +life: a beautiful secret. Everybody knew it perhaps, but nobody let it +be perceived. Oh yes, people were good; the world was good, in its +essence! Only a strange mystery compelled it to seem different, a +strange tyranny of the universal order of things.</p> + +<p>He glanced around the long table. Every face wore a look of kindness and +sympathy. He was attached to his uncle so calm, gentle and strong, with +the seeming dogged silence of his Norse character, with his tranquil +smile and now and then a little gleam of fun, aimed especially at the +old aunts, but also at the children and even at the equerries, the +ladies-in-waiting. He knew that his uncle was a thinker, a philosopher; +he would have liked to have a long discussion with him on points of +philosophy. He was fond also of his aunt, a first-rate queen: what a lot +she did for her country, what a number of charities she called into +existence; a first-rate mother: how sensibly she performed her difficult +task, the bringing up of royal children! She was more beloved in her +country than was his mother, whom yet he adored, in hers; she had more +tact, less fear, less haughtiness also towards the crowd. It should +perhaps have been the other way about: his mother queen here, her sister +empress yonder....</p> + +<p>And the crown-prince, with his simple manliness; Herman, with his +joviality; the younger brothers, with their vigorous, boyish chaff: how +fond he was of them! Sofie, Wanda, the children: how he liked them all! +He even liked the aunts and the devoted old mistress of the household. +Oh, the world was good, people were good! And Valérie was not +indifferent, but suffered in quiet silence, as a princess of the blood +must suffer, with unclouded eyes and a smile!</p> + +<p>After dinner Queen Olga took Othomar's arm:</p> + +<p>"Come with me for a moment," she said.</p> + +<p>The rain had ceased; a footman opened the French windows. Behind the +dining-room lay a long terrace looking upon the woods. The queen put her +arm in Othomar's and began to walk up and down with him:</p> + +<p>"And so you are going to leave us?" she asked.</p> + +<p>He looked at her with a smile:</p> + +<p>"You know I am, aunt; with much regret. I shall often long for +Altseeborgen, for all of you. I feel so much at home in your circle. But +yet I am anxious to see mamma again: it's nearly four months since I saw +her last."</p> + +<p>"And are you feeling better?"</p> + +<p>"How could I but feel better, aunt? The voyage with Herman made me ever +so much stronger; and living here with you has been a delightful +after-cure. A delightful holiday."</p> + +<p>"But your holiday will soon be over. Will you now be able to play your +part again?"</p> + +<p>He smiled, while his sad eyes expressed calm resignation:</p> + +<p>"Certainly, aunt. Life can't be always holidays. I should think I had +had my fill of them, doing nothing for six weeks except lie on the sand, +or in the woods, or in that most comfortable wicker chair of Herman's!"</p> + +<p>"Have you done nothing besides?" she said, playfully.</p> + +<p>"How do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Saved Valérie's life, for instance?"</p> + +<p>He gave a slight movement of gentle impatience: "But, aunt, I didn't +really. I suppose the papers will go and say I did, but there was really +no saving in the matter. Valérie knows how to swim and she was close to +the shore."</p> + +<p>"I've had a letter from papa, Othomar."</p> + +<p>"From papa?"</p> + +<p>"Yes.... Have you never thought of ... Valérie?"</p> + +<p>He reflected for a second:</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," he laughed.</p> + +<p>"Do you feel no affection for her?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, aunt.... I thought papa preferred the Grand-duchess Xenia?"</p> + +<p>The queen shrugged her shoulders:</p> + +<p>"There's the question of her religion, you know. And papa would be just +as glad of an Austrian alliance.... How do you propose to make the +journey? And when do you start?"</p> + +<p>"Ducardi and the others will be here this week. Towards the end of the +week. First to Copenhagen, London, Brussels, Berlin and then to Vienna."</p> + +<p>"And to Sigismundingen."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sigismundingen, if papa wishes."</p> + +<p>"But what do you wish, Othomar?"</p> + +<p>He looked at her gently, smiling, shrugged his shoulders:</p> + +<p>"But, aunt, what wish have I in the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Could you grow fond of Valérie?"</p> + +<p>"I think so, aunt; I think she is very sweet and very capable and +thorough."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that she certainly is, Othomar! Would you not speak to her before +you go?"</p> + +<p>"Aunt...."</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Aunt, I can't do that. I am only staying a few days longer, and ..."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Valérie has had a great sorrow. She cannot but still be suffering under +it. Think, aunt, it was yesterday. Good God, yesterday!... And to-day she +was so calm, so natural.... But it must be so, mustn't it? She must +still be suffering very severely. She went on the sea this morning, in +this weather: we don't know, do we, aunt, but we all think the same +thing! Perhaps we are quite mistaken. Things are often different from +what they seem. But, however that may be, she is certainly in distress. +And so I can't ask her, now...."</p> + +<p>"It's a pity, as you're here together. A thing of this sort is often +settled at a distance. If it was arranged here, you would perhaps not +need to make the journey."</p> + +<p>"But, aunt, papa was so bent upon it!"</p> + +<p>"That's true; but then nothing was yet decided."</p> + +<p>"No, aunt, let me make the journey. For in any case it's impossible to +arrange things here. If papa himself asked me, I should tell him ... +that it was impossible."</p> + +<p>"Papa does ask you, Othomar, in his letter to me."</p> + +<p>He seized her hands:</p> + +<p>"Aunt, in that case, write to him and say that it's impossible, at this +moment ... oh, impossible, impossible! Let us spare her, aunt. If she +becomes my wife, she will still become so while she loves another. Will +that not be terrible enough for her, when it is decided months hence? +Therefore let us spare her now. You feel that too, as a woman, don't +you? There are no affairs of state that make it necessary for my +marriage to take place in such a hurry."</p> + +<p>"Yet papa wishes you to marry as soon as possible. He wants a +grandson...."</p> + +<p>He made no reply; a look of suffering passed over his face. The queen +perceived it:</p> + +<p>"But you're right," she replied, giving way. "It would be too cruel. +Valérie, I may tell you, is bearing up wonderfully. That's how a future +Empress of Liparia ought to be...."</p> + +<p>He still made no reply and walked silently beside her; her arm lay in +his; she felt his arm tremble:</p> + +<p>"Come," she said, gently, "let us go in; walking up and down like this +is fatiguing...."</p> + + + +<h3>6</h3> + +<p>Ducardi, Dutri, Leoni and Thesbia arrived at Altseeborgen; they were to +accompany Othomar on his official journey through Europe.</p> + +<p>It was one of the last days, in the morning, when Othomar was walking +with Herman towards the woods. The sun was shining, the woods were +fragrant, the foot slid over the smooth pine-needles. The princes sat +down on the ground, near a great pool of water; around them rose the +straight pine-trunks, with their knotty peaks of side-branches; the sky +faded into the distance with blue chinks showing between the projecting +foliage of needles.</p> + +<p>Herman leant against a tree-trunk; Othomar stretched himself flat on his +back, with his hands beneath his head:</p> + +<p>"It will soon be over now," he said, softly.</p> + +<p>Herman made no reply, but mechanically swept the pine-needles together +with his hand. Nor did Othomar speak again; he swallowed his last +moments of relaxation and repose in careful draughts, each draught a +pure joy that would never return. In the woods a stillness reigned as of +death, as though the earth were uninhabited; the melancholy of things +that are coming to an end hung about the trees.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Othomar took Herman's hand and pressed it:</p> + +<p>"Thank you," he said.</p> + +<p>"What for?" asked Herman.</p> + +<p>"For the pleasure we have had together. Mamma was right: I did not know +you, Herman...."</p> + +<p>"Nor I you, dear fellow."</p> + +<p>"It has been a pleasant time. How delightfully we travelled together, +like two tourists! How grand and glorious India was, don't you think? +And Japan, how curious! I never cared much for hunting; but, when I was +with you, I understood it and felt the excitement of it: I shall never +forget our tiger-hunt! The eyes of the brute, the danger facing you: +it's invigorating. At a moment like that, you feel yourself becoming +primitive, like the first man. The look of one of those tigers drives +away a lot of your hesitation. That's another danger, which mamma is +always so afraid of: oh, how enervating it is; it eats up all your +energy!... And the nights on the Indian Ocean, on board our <i>Viking</i>. +That great wide circle around you, all those stars over your head. How +often we sat looking at them, with our legs on the bulwarks!... Perhaps +it's a mistake to sit dreaming so long, but it rests one so, it rests +one so! I shall never forget it, never...."</p> + +<p>"Well, old chap, we must do it again."</p> + +<p>"No, one never does anything again. What's done is done. Nothing +returns, not a single moment of our lives. Later on it is always +different...."</p> + +<p>He looked round about him, as though some one might be listening; then +he whispered:</p> + +<p>"Herman, I have something to tell you."</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Something to confide to you. But first tell me: that time with the +tiger, you didn't think me a great coward, did you?"</p> + +<p>"No, certainly not!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm a coward for all that. I'm frightened, always frightened. The +doctors don't know it, because I never tell them. But I always am...."</p> + +<p>"But of what, my dear chap?"</p> + +<p>"Of something inside myself. Look here, Herman, I'm so afraid ... that I +shall not be able to stick it out. That at a given moment of my life I +shall be too weak. That suddenly I shall not be able to act and then, +then ..."</p> + +<p>He shuddered; they look at each other.</p> + +<p>"It won't do," he continued, mechanically, as though strengthened by +Herman's glance. "I shall fight against it, against that dread of +mine.... Do you believe in presentiments?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, inversely: mine always turn out the opposite!"</p> + +<p>"Then I hope that my presentiment won't come true either."</p> + +<p>"But what is it?"</p> + +<p>"That within the year ... one of us ... at Lipara ... will be dead."</p> + +<p>Herman stared at him fixedly. For all his manliness and his muscular +strength, there lay deep down within him a certain heritage of the +superstition that comes murmuring from the sea as with voices of distant +prophecy, a superstition lulled by the beautiful legends of their +Gothlandic sea, which, syren-like, sings strange, mystic fairy-tales. +Perhaps he had never until this moment felt that some of it flowed in +his rich blood; and he tried to shake it off as nonsense:</p> + +<p>"But Othomar, do be rational!" he said.</p> + +<p>"I can do nothing to prevent it, Herman. I don't think about it, but I +feel little sharp stings, like thoughts suddenly springing up. And +lately ... oh, lately, it has been worse; it has become a dream, a +nightmare! I was walking through the shopping-streets of Lipara and from +all the shops came black people and they measured out bales of black +crape, with yard-measures, till the streets were filled with it and the +crape lay in the town as though in clouds and surged over the town like +a mass of black muslin. It made everything dark: the sun could not shine +through it and everything lay in shadow. The people did not seem to +recognize me and, when I asked what all that crape was for, they +whispered in my ears, 'Hush, hush, it's ... it's for the Imperial!' ... +O Herman, then I woke and I was damp with perspiration and it was as +though I still heard it echoing after me: 'For the Imperial, it's for +the Imperial!'"</p> + +<p>Herman got up; he was a little nervous:</p> + +<p>"Come," said he, "shall we go?... Dreams: don't pay any attention to +dreams, Othomar!"</p> + +<p>Othomar also rose:</p> + +<p>"No, I oughtn't to pay attention to them," he repeated, in a strange +tone. "I never used to."</p> + +<p>"Othomar," Herman began, decidedly, as though he wished to say +something.</p> + +<p>"Don't talk to me for a minute; let me be for a moment," Othomar +interrupted, quickly, anxiously.</p> + +<p>They walked through the woods in silence. Othomar looked about him, +strangely, looked at the ground. Herman compressed his lips tightly and +puckered up his forehead: he was annoyed. But he said nothing. In a few +minutes Othomar's strange glances grew calmer and quieted down into +their usual gentle melancholy.</p> + +<p>Then he gave a little sigh, as if he were catching his breath:</p> + +<p>"Don't be angry," he said, putting his arm through Herman's.</p> + +<p>His voice had resumed its usual tone.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it's as well that I have told you; now perhaps it will leave +me. So don't be angry, Herman.... I promise you I shan't talk like that +again and I shall do my best also not to think like that any more. But, +when I have anything on my mind, I must tell it to somebody. And surely +that's much better than for ever keeping silent about it! And then, you +see, soon I shall have no more time to think of such things: to-morrow +we shall be at Copenhagen and then life will resume its normal course. +How can I have talked so queerly? How did I take it into my head? Even I +can't remember. It seems very silly now, even to myself."</p> + +<p>He gave a little laugh and then, earnestly:</p> + +<p>"After all, I'm glad that we have had a talk by ourselves, that I have +been able to thank you. We're friends now, aren't we?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course we're friends," replied Herman, laughing in the midst of +his annoyance. "But all the same I shall never know you thoroughly!"</p> + +<p>"Don't say that just because of a single presentiment, which I think +foolish myself. What else is there in me that's puzzling?..."</p> + +<p>"No, there's nothing else!" Herman assented. "You're a good chap. I +don't know how it has come about, but I like you very much...."</p> + +<p>They left the woods; the sea lay before them. Like life itself, it lay +before them, with all the mystery of its depths, wherein a multiple soul +seemed to move, rounding wave upon wave. Nameless and innumerable were +its changes of colour, its moods of incessant movement; and it spewed a +foam of passion on its fiercely towering crests. But this passion was +merely its superficial manifestation, the exuberance of its endless +vitality: from its depths there murmured, in the inimitable melodies of +its millions of voices, the mystery of its soul, as it were a glory +which the sky above alone knew.</p> + + + +<h3>7</h3> + +<p> +"TO HIS IMPERIAL HIGHNESS THE DUKE OF XARA,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">"OSBORNE HOUSE, ISLE OF WIGHT.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 14.5em;">"IMPERIAL,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 16.5em;">"LIPARA,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 11em;">"—<i>September</i>, 18—.</span><br /> +<br /> +"DEAR SON,<br /> +</p> +<p> +"It was a great pleasure to receive your letter, telling us of the +cordial welcome which you met with first at Copenhagen and now in +England. We must however express our surprise at what Aunt Olga wrote to +us and our regret that you did not act according to our wishes; the +Emperor of Austria and the Archduke Albrecht express the same regret in +their letters to us. We presume that we did not express ourselves +definitely enough in our letter to Aunt Olga: otherwise we cannot +imagine why she did not urge you more strongly to ask the Archduchess +Valérie for an interview and to speak to her of the important matter +which we all at this moment have so much at heart. You would then have +been able to announce your engagement <i>sous cachet</i> at the courts which +you are now visiting; and the betrothal could have been celebrated, at +the conclusion of journey, at Sigismundingen. Whereas now you have +probably placed yourself in a false position towards our friends Their +Majesties of Denmark and of England, as all the newspapers are speaking +of a possible betrothal to the Archduchess Valérie and the press is +already so kind as to discuss the <i>pros</i> and <i>cons</i> of this alliance in +a loud voice. Your journey, however, would have had to take place <i>in +any case</i>, as it had already been so long announced—your illness +intervened to postpone it—and as it is therefore nothing more than an +act of courtesy towards our friends. +</p> +<p>"Once again, your neglect to act in accordance with our wishes causes us +great regret. We perceive in you, Othomar, a certain tendency towards +<i>bourgeois</i> hypersensitiveness, which we hope you will learn to master +with all the strength you possess. Few of us have in this life escaped a +sorrow such as Prince von Lohe-Obkowitz has caused your future bride, +but it remains an entirely personal and subordinate feeling and should +not be allowed to interfere <i>in the least</i> with affairs of such great +political importance as the marriage of a future emperor of Liparia. The +archduchess will doubtless, when she is older, learn to look at this in +the same light; and we hope that she will very soon realize that her +affection for Prince Lohe could never have brought her happiness, as it +would have caused a rupture with his imperial majesty her uncle and with +all her relations.</p> + +<p>"Master yourself, Othomar, we ask and urge. You sometimes have ideas and +entertain proposals which are not those of a ruler. We have noticed this +more than once or twice: among other occasions, when you visited Zanti +at Vaza. We did not like to reproach you with this at the time, as we +were otherwise very well pleased with you. Your dearest wish will no +doubt be that we shall always remain so.</p> +<p> +"We hope therefore to see you three weeks hence at Sigismundingen, where +the Archduchess Valérie will by then have returned from Altseeborgen to +meet you and where we shall also meet the Emperor of Austria. +</p> +<p>"It is our fervent hope that the long voyage with Herman will have done +you much good and that your wedding will take place at Altara <i>as soon +as possible</i>. This glad prospect affords us a pleasant diversion from +our difficulties with the army bill, which is encountering such stubborn +opposition in the house of deputies, though we hope for all that to +succeed in carrying it, as it is essential that our army should be +increased.</p> +<p> +"We cordially embrace you. +</p> +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 30.5em;">"OSCAR."</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + + + +<h3>1</h3> + +<p>It was after the state banquet in the castle at Sigismundingen, where +the imperial families of Liparia and Austria were assembled to celebrate +the betrothal of the Duke of Xara and the Archduchess Valérie. It was in +September: the day had been sultry and in the evening the oppressive +heat still hung brooding in the air.</p> + +<p>Dinner was just over and the imperial procession returned through a long +corridor to the reception-rooms. All the balcony-windows of the +brightly-lighted gallery stood open; beneath, as in an abyss of river +landscape, flowed the Danube, rolling against the rocks, while above it +towered the castle with its innumerable little pointed turrets. The +mountain-tops were defined in a sombre, violet amphitheatre against the +paler sky, which was incessantly lit with electric flashes, as of +noiseless lightning. The wood stood gloomy and black, shadowy, sloping +up with the peaked tops of its fir-trees against the mountains; in the +distance lay small houses, huddled in the dusk of the evening, like some +straggling hamlet, with here and there a yellow light.</p> + +<p>The Emperor of Liparia gave his arm to the mother of the bride, the +Archduchess Eudoxie; then followed the Emperor of Austria with the +Empress of Liparia, the Archduke Albrecht with the Empress of Austria, +Othomar with Valérie....</p> + +<p>Valérie, lightly pressing Othomar's arm, withdrew with him from the +procession:</p> + +<p>"It was so warm in the dining-room; you will excuse me," she said to +Othomar's sister, the Archduchess of Carinthia, who was following with +one of her Austrian cousins.</p> + +<p>Valérie's smile requested the archduchess to go on. The others followed: +the august guests, the equerries, the ladies-in-waiting; they smiled to +the betrothed imperial couple, who stood in one of the open +window-recesses to let them pass.</p> + +<p>They remained alone in the gallery, before the open window:</p> + +<p>"I need air," said Valérie, with a sigh.</p> + +<p>He made no reply. They stood together in silence, gazing at the evening +landscape. He was wearing the uhlan uniform of the Austrian regiment +which he commanded; and a new order glittered amongst the others on his +breast: the Golden Fleece of Austria. She seemed to have grown older +than she was at Altseeborgen, in her pink-silk evening-dress, with wide, +puffed sleeves of very pale-green velvet, a tight-curled border of white +ostrich-feathers edging the low-cut bodice and the train.</p> + +<p>"Shall I leave you alone for a little, Valérie?" he asked, gently.</p> + +<p>She shook her head, smiling sadly. Her bosom seemed to heave with +uncontrollable emotion.</p> + +<p>"Why, Othomar?" she asked. "I am lonely enough at nights, with my +thoughts. Leave me alone with them as little as you can...."</p> + +<p>She suddenly held out her hand to him:</p> + +<p>"Will you forgive your future empress her broken heart?" she asked, +suddenly, with a great sob.</p> + +<p>And her pale, shrunken face turned full towards him, with two eyes like +those of a stricken doe. An irrepressible feeling of pity caused +something to well up unexpectedly in his soul; he squeezed her hand and +turned away, so as not to weep.</p> + +<p>He looked out of the window. Some of the pointed towers, visible from +here, rose with an air of sombre romance against the sky, which was +luminous with electricity. Below them, romantically, murmured the +Danube. The mountains were like the landscape in a ballad. But no +ballad, no romance echoed between their two hearts. The prose of the +inevitable necessity was the only harmony that united them. But this +harmony also united them in reality, brought them together, made them +understand each other, feel and live at one with each other. They were +now for a minute alone and their eyes frankly sought the depths of each +other's souls. There was no need for pretence between these two: each +saw the other's sorrow lying shivering and naked in the other's heart.</p> + +<p>It was not the riotous passion of despair that they beheld. They saw a +gentle, tremulous sadness; they looked at it with wide, staring eyes of +anguish, as children look who think they see a ghost. For them that +ghost issued from life itself: life itself became for them a ghostly +existence. They themselves were spectres, though they know that they +were tangible, with bodies. What were they?</p> + +<p>Dream-beings, with crowns; they lived and bowed and acted and smiled as +in a dream, because of their crowns. They did not exist: a vagueness did +indeed suggest in their dream-brains that something might exist, in +other laws of nature than those of their sphere, but in their sphere +they did not exist....</p> + +<p>His hand was toying mechanically with some papers that lay near him, on +the mirror-bracket between two of the window-recesses; they were +illustrated periodicals, doubtless left there by some chamberlain. He +took one up, to while their sad silence, and opened it. The first thing +that he saw was their own portraits:</p> + +<p>"Look," he said.</p> + +<p>He showed them to her. They now turned over the pages together, saw the +portraits also of their parents, a drawing of the castle, a corner of +Sigismundingen Park. Then together they read the announcement of their +engagement. They were first each described separately: he, an +accomplished prince, doing a great deal of good, very popular in his own +country and cordially loved by the Emperor of Austria; she, every inch a +princess, born to be the empress of a great empire, with likewise her +special accomplishments. The eyes of all Europe were fixed upon them at +the moment. For their marriage would not only be an imperial alliance of +great political importance, but would also tie a knot of real harmony: +their marriage was a love-match. There had been attempts to make it seem +otherwise, but this was not correct. In Gothland, in the home circle at +Altseeborgen, the young couple had learnt to know each other well; their +love had sprung like an idyll from the sea and the Duke of Xara had once +even saved the archduchess' life, when she had ventured out too far, in +stormy weather, in a rowing-boat. Their love was like a novel with a +happy ending. The Emperor Oscar would rather have seen the Grand-duchess +Xenia crown-princess of Liparia and attached great value to an alliance +with Russia, but he had yielded before his son's love.... And the +article ended by saying that the wedding would take place in October in +the old palace at Altara.</p> + +<p>They read it together, with their mournful faces, their wide, fixed +eyes, which still smarted with staring into each other's souls. Not a +single remark came from their lips after reading the article; they only +just smiled their two heartrending smiles; then they laid the paper +down again. And she asked, with that strange calm with which this +betrothed pair were trying to get to know each other:</p> + +<p>"Othomar ... do you care for nobody?"</p> + +<p>A flush suffused his cheeks. Did she know of Alexa?</p> + +<p>"I did once think that I ... that I was in love," he confessed; "but I +do not believe that it was really love. I now believe that I do not +possess the capacity to concentrate my whole soul upon a feeling for one +other soul alone; I should not know how to find it, that one soul, and I +should fear to make a mistake, or to deceive myself.... No, I do not +believe that I shall ever know that exclusive feeling. I rather feel +within me a great, wide, general love, an immense compassion, for our +people. It is strange of me perhaps...."</p> + +<p>He said it almost shyly, as though it were something abnormal, that +general love, of which he ought to be ashamed before her.</p> + +<p>"A great love," he explained once more, when she continued to look at +him in silence; and he made an embracing gesture with his arms, "for our +people...."</p> + +<p>"Do you really feel that?" she asked, in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Yes...."</p> + +<p>A sort of vista opened out before her, as though an horizon of light +were dawning right at the end of her dark melancholy; but that horizon +was so far, so very far away....</p> + +<p>"But, Othomar," she said, "that is very good. It is very beautiful to +feel like that!"</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders:</p> + +<p>"Beautiful? How do you mean? I cannot but feel it when I see all the +misery that exists ... among our people, the lower orders, the very +lowest especially. If they were all happy and enjoying abundance, there +would be no need for me to feel it. So what is there beautiful about +it?"</p> + +<p>She gave a little laugh:</p> + +<p>"I can't argue against that, it's too deep for me. I can't say that I +have ever thought over those social questions; they have always existed +as they are and ... and I have not thought about them. But I can feel, +with my feminine instinct, that it is beautiful of you to feel like +that, Othomar."</p> + +<p>She took his hand and pressed it; her face lit up with a smile. Then she +looked, pensively, into the dark landscape beneath them and she +shivered.</p> + +<p>"It's turning chilly," he said. "We had better go in, Valérie; you'll +catch cold here."</p> + +<p>She just felt at her bare neck:</p> + +<p>"Presently," she said.</p> + +<p>They glanced down, at the murmuring Danube. A mist began to rise from +the river and filled the valley as it were with light strips of muslin.</p> + +<p>"Come," he urged.</p> + +<p>"Look," she said. "How deep that is, is it not?"</p> + +<p>He looked down:</p> + +<p>"Yes," he replied.</p> + +<p>"Don't you feel giddy?" she asked.</p> + +<p>He looked at her anxiously:</p> + +<p>"No, not giddy; at least, not at once...."</p> + +<p>"Othomar," she said, in a whisper, "I once sat here for a whole evening. +I kept on looking down; it was darker than now and I saw nothing but +blackness and it kept on roaring through those black depths. It was the +evening after our engagement was decided. I felt such pain, I suffered +so! I thought that I had won a victory over myself, but they left me no +peace and the only use of my victory was to give me strength to do +battle again. The news that I was to be your wife came as unexpectedly +... as my great sorrow came! Then I felt so weak because it overwhelmed +me so, because they left me no peace. Oh, they were so cruel, they did +not leave me a moment to recover my breath! I had to go on again, on! +Then I felt weak. I thought that I should never overcome my weakness. I +sat here for hours, looking at the Danube. It made me giddy.... At last +I thought that I had made up my mind ... to throw myself down.... I +already saw myself floating away, there, there, down there, right round +the castle.... Why did I not do it? I believe because of ... of him, +Othomar. I loved him, I love him <i>now</i>, though I ought to have more +pride. I would not punish him by committing suicide. He is so weak. I +know him: it would have haunted him all his life long!... Then ... then, +Othomar, I ran away and I prayed! I no longer knew what to do!"</p> + +<p>She hid her face full of anguish in her hands, with a great sob. His +eyes had filled with tears; he saw how she trembled. He threw a +terrified side-glance at the deep stream below, which roared as though +calling....</p> + +<p>"Valérie," he stammered, in alarm; "for God's sake let us go in. It's +too cold here and ... and...."</p> + +<p>She looked at him anxiously too, with haggard eyes:</p> + +<p>"Yes, let us go, Othomar!" she whispered. "I am getting frightened here: +we have that in our family; there is still so much romance flowing in +our veins...."</p> + +<p>She took his arm; they went indoors together. But, before entering the +suite of anterooms that led to the reception-rooms, she detained him for +yet a moment:</p> + +<p>"I don't know whether we shall see each other alone again before you +return to Lipara. And I still wanted to thank you for something...."</p> + +<p>"For what?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"For ... something that Aunt Olga told me. For ... sparing me at +Altseeborgen. Thank you, Othomar, thank you...."</p> + +<p>She put her arm around his neck and gave him a kiss. He kissed her in +return.</p> + +<p>And they exchanged their first caress.</p> + + + +<h3>2</h3> + +<p>The next day the imperial family of Liparia travelled back from +Sigismundingen to Lipara. The reception at the central station was most +hearty; the town was covered with bunting; in the evening there were +popular rejoicings. The officers of the various army-corps gave the +crown-prince banquets in honour of his betrothal. The Archduchess +Valérie's portraits were exposed in the windows of all the +picture-shops; the papers contained long articles full of jubilation.</p> + +<p>It was a few hours before the dinner given by the officers of the +throne-guards to their imperial colonel when Othomar was, as it were +suddenly, overcome by a strange sensation. He was in his writing-room, +felt rather giddy and had to sit down. The giddiness was slight, but +lasted a long time; for a long time the room seemed to be slowly trying +to turn round him and not to succeed; and this gave a painful impression +of resistance on the part of its lifeless furniture. One of Othomar's +hands rested on his thigh, the other on the ruff of the collie which had +laid its head upon his knee. He remained sitting, bending forward.</p> + +<p>When the giddiness had passed, he retained a strange lightness in his +head, as though something had been taken out of it. He leant back +cautiously; the collie, half-asleep, dreamily opened its eyes and then +dozed off again, its head upon Othomar's knee, under his hand. An +irresistible fatigue crept up Othomar's limbs, as though they were +sinking in soft mud. It surprised him greatly, this feeling; and, +looking sideways at the clock, without moving his head, lest he should +bring on the giddiness again, he calculated that he had an hour and a +half before dinner. This prospective interval relieved him and he +remained sitting, as though calculating his fatigue: whether it would +pass, whether it would leave his body.</p> + +<p>It lasted a long time, so long indeed that he doubted whether he would +be able to go. When three-quarters of an hour had passed, he pressed the +bell which stood near him on the table. Andro entered.</p> + +<p>"Andro...." he began, without continuing.</p> + +<p>"Does your highness wish to dress? Everything is put out...."</p> + +<p>Othomar just patted the dog's head, as it still lay dozing motionless +against his knee.</p> + +<p>"Is your highness unwell?"</p> + +<p>"A little giddy, Andro; it is passing off already."</p> + +<p>"But is your highness right in going? Had I not better send for Prince +Dutri?"</p> + +<p>Othomar shook his head decidedly and rose:</p> + +<p>"No, I'm late as it is, Andro. Come, help me with my things...."</p> + +<p>And he entered his dressing-room.</p> + +<p>He appeared at the dinner, but made excuses to the officers for his +evident languor. He just joined in the toasts by raising his glass, with +a smile. It struck them all that he looked very ill, emaciated, +hollow-eyed and white as chalk in his white-and-gold uniform. +Immediately after dinner he returned to the Imperial, without +accompanying them to the Imperial Jockey Club, the club of the <i>jeunesse +dorée</i>.</p> + +<p>He slept heavily; a misty dream hovered through his night. The man who +had tried to murder him at Zanti's grinned at him with clenched fists; +then the scene changed to the Gothlandic sea and he rowed Valérie along, +but, however hard he rowed, the three towers of the castle always drew +farther away, unapproachable....</p> + +<p>When he awoke, it was already past eight. He reflected that it was too +late for his usual morning ride and remained lying where he was. He rang +for Andro:</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you wake me at seven o'clock?"</p> + +<p>"Your highness was sleeping so soundly, I dared not; your highness was +not well yesterday...."</p> + +<p>"And so you just let me sleep? Very well.... Send word to her majesty +... that I am not well."</p> + +<p>The man looked at him anxiously:</p> + +<p>"What is the matter with your highness?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, Andro ... I am a little tired. Where's Djalo?"</p> + +<p>"Here, highness...."</p> + +<p>The collie ran in noisily, put its great paws on the camp-bed, wriggled +its haunches wildly to and fro as it wagged its tail....</p> + +<p>Then, suddenly, it lay down quietly beside the bed.</p> + +<p>The empress sent back to say that she would come at once; she was not +yet dressed.... With calm, open eyes Othomar lay waiting for her.</p> + +<p>She entered at last, a little agitated with anxiety. She questioned him, +but learnt nothing from his vague, smiling replies. She laid her hand on +his forehead, felt his pulse and could not make up her mind whether he +had any fever. There was typhoid about: she was afraid of it....</p> + +<p>The physicians-in-ordinary were called and relieved her mind: there was +no fever. The prince seemed generally tired; he had doubtless +over-exerted himself lately. He must rest....</p> + +<p>The emperor was astonished: the prince had just been resting and had +stayed on for weeks at Altseeborgen. What had been the use of it then!</p> + +<p>The rumour ran through the palace, the town, the country, through +Europe, that the Duke of Xara was keeping his room because of a slight +indisposition. The physicians issued a simple and very reassuring +bulletin.</p> + +<p>However, in the afternoon Othomar got up and even dressed himself, but +not in uniform. He had had some lunch in his bedroom and now went to +Princess Thera's apartments. She sat drawing; with her was a +lady-in-waiting, the young Marchioness of Ezzera.</p> + +<p>The princess was surprised to see her brother:</p> + +<p>"What! Is that you? I thought you were in bed!..."</p> + +<p>"No, I'm a little better...."</p> + +<p>He bowed to the marchioness, who had risen and curtseyed.</p> + +<p>"Won't you go on with the portrait?" asked Othomar.</p> + +<p>Thera looked at him:</p> + +<p>"You're looking so pale, poor boy. Perhaps I'd better not. It tires you +so, that sitting, doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sometimes, a little...."</p> + +<p>They were now standing before the portrait; the marchioness had retired, +as she always did when the brother and sister were together. The +painting was half-covered with a silk cloth, which Thera pulled aside: +it was already a young head full of expression, in which life began to +gleam behind the black, melancholy eyes, and painted with broad, firm +brushwork, with much reflection of outside light, which fell upon one +side of the face and brought it into relief, throwing it forward out of +the shadow in the background.</p> + +<p>"Is it almost finished?" asked Othomar.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but you've kept me waiting awfully long for the final touches: +just think, you've been away for four months. I haven't been able to +work at it all that time. But, you know ... you've changed. If only I +shan't have to leave it like this. It's no longer like you...."</p> + +<p>"It'll begin to be like me again, when I'm looking a little better!" +answered Othomar.</p> + +<p>But the princess became rather nervous; she suddenly drew the silk cloth +over it again....</p> + +<p>Othomar did not appear at dinner; he went to bed early. The next day the +doctors found him very listless. He was up but not dressed; he lay in +his dressing-gown on the sofa in his room, with the collie at his feet. +He complained to the empress that he had such a queer feeling in his +head, as though it were about to open and pour out all its contents.</p> + +<p>For days this condition remained unchanged: a total listlessness, a +total loss of appetite, a visible exhaustion.... The empress sat by his +side as he lay on his sofa staring through the open windows into the +green depths of the park of plane-trees. The birds chirped outside; +sometimes Berengar's small, shrill voice sounded among them, as he +played with a couple of his little friends. The empress read aloud, but +it tired Othomar, it made his head ache....</p> + +<p>After a long conversation between the three doctors and the emperor and +empress, Professor Barzia was summoned from Altara for a consultation: +the professor was a nerve-specialist of European fame.</p> + +<p>In the emperor's room the emperor, the empress and Count Myxila sat +waiting for the result of the examination and the subsequent +consultation. It lasted long. They did not speak while they waited: the +empress sat staring before her with her quiet expression of +acquiescence; the emperor walked irritably to and fro. The old +chancellor, with his stern, proud face and bald head, stood pensively +near the window.</p> + +<p>Then the doctors were announced. They appeared, Professor Barzia leading +the way, the others following. The empress fancied that she read the +worst on the professor's pale, rigid features; one of the physicians, +however, nodded his big, kind head compassionately from behind his +colleague, to reassure her.</p> + +<p>"Well?" asked the emperor.</p> + +<p>"We have carefully examined his imperial highness, sir," the professor +began. "The prince is quite free from organic disease, though his +constitution is generally delicate."</p> + +<p>"What's wrong with him then?" asked Oscar.</p> + +<p>"The prince's nervous system seems to us, sir, to have undergone an +alarming strain."</p> + +<p>"His nerves? But he's never nervous, he's always calm," exclaimed the +emperor, stubbornly.</p> + +<p>"All the more reason, sir, to appreciate the prince's self-restraint. +His highness has evidently kept himself going for a long time; and the +effort has been too much for him at last. He is calm now, as your +majesty says. But his calmness does not alter the fact that his nerves +are completely run down. His highness has clearly been overtaxing his +strength."</p> + +<p>"And in what way?" asked the emperor, haughtily.</p> + +<p>"That, sir, would no doubt be better known to those at court than to me, +who come fresh from my study and my hospitals. Your majesty will be able +to answer that question yourself. I can only give you a few indications. +His highness told me that he remembered sometimes feeling those fits of +giddiness and exhaustion even before the great floods in the north. That +was in March. It is now September. I imagine that his highness has been +leading a very active life in the meantime?"</p> + +<p>The emperor made movements with his eyebrows as if he could not +understand: tremulous motions of his powerful head, with its fleece of +silvering hair.</p> + +<p>"The journey to the north may in fact have affected his highness, +professor," the empress began.</p> + +<p>She was sitting haughtily upright, in her plain dark dress. Her face was +expressionless, her eyes were cold. She spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, +as though she were not a mother.</p> + +<p>"His highness is very sensitive to impressions," she continued, "and he +received a good many at Altara that were likely to shock him."</p> + +<p>The professor made a slight movement of the head:</p> + +<p>"I remember, ma'am, seeing his highness at the identification of the +corpses in the fields," he said. "His highness <i>was</i> very much +affected...."</p> + +<p>"But to what does all this tend?" asked the emperor, still recalcitrant.</p> + +<p>"It tends to this, sir, that his highness has presumably allowed himself +no rest since that time...."</p> + +<p>"His highness has allowed himself months of rest!" exclaimed the +emperor.</p> + +<p>"Will your majesty permit us to cast our eyes backwards for a moment? +After the very fatiguing journey in the north, the prince returned +straight to conditions of political excitement—Lipara was then under +martial law—and afterwards came the bustle of a festival time, when the +King and Queen of Syria were here...."</p> + +<p>The emperor shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"After that, the prince, acting on the advice of my respected +colleagues, went on a sea-voyage to restore his health. No doubt his +highness then enjoyed some days of rest; but the great hunting-trips in +which he took part with Prince Herman were beyond a doubt too much for +his highness' strength. Now, quite recently, his highness has been +betrothed: this may have caused him some excitement. I am casually +mentioning a few of the main facts, sir. I know nothing of the prince's +inner life: if I knew something of that, it would certainly make many +things much easier for me. But this is certain: his highness has from +day to day led a too highly agitated existence, whatever the agitations +may have been, great or small. That his highness did not collapse +earlier is no doubt due to an uncommon power of self-control, of which I +believe the prince himself to be unconscious, and an uncommon sense of +duty, which is also quite spontaneous in his highness. These are high +qualities, sir, in a future ruler...."</p> + +<p>A faint flush dyed the empress' cheeks; a milder expression suffused the +coldness of her features.</p> + +<p>"And what is your advice, professor?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"That his highness should take an indefinite rest, ma'am."</p> + +<p>"His highness' marriage was fixed for next month," remarked the empress, +in an enquiring tone.</p> + +<p>Professor Barzia's face became quite white and rigid.</p> + +<p>"It would be simply inexcusable, if his highness' marriage were to take +place next month," he said, with his even, oracular voice.</p> + +<p>"Postponed, then?" asked the emperor, with suppressed rage.</p> + +<p>"Without doubt, sir," replied the professor, with cool determination.</p> + +<p>"My dear professor," the emperor growled between his teeth, with a +pretence of geniality, "you speak of rest and of rest and of rest. Good +God, I tell you, the prince has <i>had</i> rest, months and months of it!... +Do I ever rest so long? Life is movement; and government is movement. We +can't allow ourselves to rest. Why should a young man like the prince be +always resting? I never remember resting like that, when I was +crown-prince! He may not be as strong as I am, but yet he is of our +race! Excitement, you say! Good God, what excitement? Political +excitement? That fell to <i>my</i> share, not the prince's! And I had no need +of rest after it. And has a prince to go and rest when he gets engaged +to be married? Really, professor, this is carrying hygiene beyond all +limits!"</p> + +<p>"Sir, your majesty has done me the honour to ask my opinion of the +prince's condition. I have given that opinion to the best of my +knowledge."</p> + +<p>"It's rest, then?"</p> + +<p>"Undoubtedly, sir."</p> + +<p>"But how long do you want him to rest?"</p> + +<p>"I am not able to fix a date, sir."</p> + +<p>"How long do you want his marriage postponed?"</p> + +<p>"Indefinitely, sir."</p> + +<p>The emperor paced the room; something unusual passed over his powerful +features, a look of anguish....</p> + +<p>"That's impossible," he muttered, curtly.</p> + +<p>All were silent.</p> + +<p>"It's impossible," he, repeated, dully.</p> + +<p>"Then his highness will marry, sir," said Barzia.</p> + +<p>The emperor stood still:</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" he asked, gruffly.</p> + +<p>"That nothing can prevail with your majesty in this most important +matter ... except your own sense of what is right and reasonable."</p> + +<p>The emperor's breath came in short gasps between his full, sensual lips; +his veins swelled thick on his low, Roman forehead; his strong fists +were clenched. No one had ever seen Oscar like this before; nor had any +one ever dared so to address him....</p> + +<p>"Explain yourself more clearly," he thundered into the professor's rigid +face.</p> + +<p>Barzia did not move a muscle:</p> + +<p>"If his highness is married next month ... it means his death."</p> + +<p>The empress remained sitting stiff and upright, but she turned very +pale, shuddered and closed her eyes as though she felt giddy.</p> + +<p>"His death?" echoed the emperor, in consternation.</p> + +<p>"Or worse," rejoined Barzia.</p> + +<p>"Worse?"</p> + +<p>"The extinction of your majesty's posterity."</p> + +<p>The emperor rapped out a furious oath and struck his fist on the huge +writing-table. The bronze ornaments on it rang. Myxila drew a step +nearer:</p> + +<p>"Sir," he said, "there is nothing lost. If I understand Professor +Barzia, his highness' illness is only temporary and is curable."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, excellency," replied Barzia. "So long as it is not forced to +become incurable and chronic."</p> + +<p>Oscar bit his lips convulsively. His glittering eyes stood out small and +cruel. It struck Myxila how much, at this moment, he resembled a +portrait of Wenceslas the Cruel.</p> + +<p>"Professor," he hissed, "we thank you. Stay at Lipara till to-morrow, so +as to observe his highness once more."</p> + +<p>"I will obey your majesty's commands," said Barzia.</p> + +<p>He bowed, the physicians bowed; they withdrew. Left alone with the +empress and the imperial chancellor, Oscar no longer restrained his +rage. Like a beast foaming at the mouth, he walked fiercely up and down +with heavy steps, gurgling as though the breath refused to come through +his constricted throat:</p> + +<p>"Oh!" he gnashed between his teeth, bursting out at last. "That boy, +that boy!... He's not even fit to get married! His duchess: he was able +to get married to her! And that boy, oh, that boy is to succeed me, +<i>me!</i>..."</p> + +<p>A furious laugh of contempt grated from between his large, white teeth, +with biting irony.</p> + +<p>The empress rose:</p> + +<p>"Count Myxila," she said, trembling, "may I beg your excellency to come +with me?"</p> + +<p>She turned to leave the room. Myxila, hesitating, was already following +her to the door.</p> + +<p>"What for?" roared the emperor. "What's the reason of that? I have +something more to say to Myxila."</p> + +<p>The empress gave the emperor a look as cold as ice:</p> + +<p>"It is my express wish, sir, that Count Myxila should go with me," she +said, in the same trembling voice. "I think your majesty needs solitude. +Your majesty is saying things which a father must not even think and +which a sovereign must certainly not say in the presence of a subject, +not even in that of one of his highest subjects...."</p> + +<p>The emperor tried to interrupt her.</p> + +<p>"Your majesty," continued the empress, with a haughty tremor, cutting +the words from him with her icy-cold, trembling voice as though with a +knife, "is saying these things of the future Emperor of Lipara ... and I +wish <i>no</i> subject, not even Count Myxila, to hear such things; and, +moreover, your majesty is saying these things of <i>my son</i>: therefore I +do not wish to hear them myself, sir! Excellency, I request you once +more to come with me."</p> + +<p>"Go then!" shouted the emperor, like a madman. "Go, both of you: yes, +leave me alone, leave me alone!"</p> + +<p>He walked furiously up and down, flung the chairs one against the other, +roared like an angry caged lion. He took a bronze statue from a bracket +in front of a tall mirror that rose to the ceiling in gilt arabesques:</p> + +<p>"There then!" he lashed out, while his passion seemed to seethe mistily +in his bewildered brain, to shoot red lightning-flashes from his +bloodshot eyes, to drive him mad because of his impotence against the +senseless fate and logic of circumstance.</p> + +<p>Like an athlete he brandished the heavy statue through the air; like a +child he hurled it at the great mirror, which fell clattering in a +flicker of shreds.</p> + +<p>The empress and Myxila had left the room.</p> + + + +<h3>3</h3> + +<p>The ordinary court-life continued; the empress' first drawing-room took +place. The reception-rooms leading to the great presence-chamber were +lit up, though it was day-time; the ladies entered, handed their cards +to the grand chamberlain, signed their names and waited until their +titles were called out by the masters of ceremonies. They stood in +low-necked dresses; the long white veils fell in misty folds of gauze +from the feathers and jewelled tiaras. It was the first display of the +new costumes of the season, the fashion which had sprung into life and +now moved and had its being; but the crowded rooms seemed but the +antechambers of that display and the upgathered trains gave an +impression of preparation for the solemn second, the momentary +appearance before her majesty.</p> + +<p>The Duchess of Yemena was waiting, her train also thrown over her arm, +with the two marchionesses her stepdaughters, whom she was about to +present to the empress, when she saw Dutri, bowing, apologizing, +twisting through the expectant ladies, to make way for himself through +the crowded room:</p> + +<p>"Dutri," she beckoned, as he did not seem to perceive her.</p> + +<p>He reached her after some difficulty, bowed, paid his compliments to the +little marchionesses. They stood with stiff little faces, frightened, +round eyes and tight-closed mouths; and the lines of their girlish +figures displayed the shyness of novices. With an awkward grace, they +kept arranging their heavy court-trains over their arms. They just +smiled at Dutri's words; then they looked stiff again, compared the +other ladies' dresses with their own.</p> + +<p>"Dutri," whispered the duchess, "how is the prince?"</p> + +<p>"Just the same," the equerry whispered in reply. "Terribly +melancholy...."</p> + +<p>"Dutri," she murmured, sinking her voice still lower, "would there be no +chance for me to see him?"</p> + +<p>Dutri started in dismay:</p> + +<p>"How do you mean, Alexa? When?"</p> + +<p>"Presently, after the drawing-room...."</p> + +<p>"But that is impossible, Alexa! The prince sees no one but their +majesties and the princess; he talks to nobody, not even to his +chamberlains, not even to us...."</p> + +<p>"Dutri," she insisted, with her hand on his arm, "do your best. Help me. +Ask for an interview for me. If you help me ... I will help you too...."</p> + +<p>He looked at her expectantly.</p> + +<p>"What do you think of Hélène?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I think Eleonore prettier," he smiled.</p> + +<p>"Well, come to us oftener, to my special days; we never see anything of +you. I will prepare the duke...."</p> + +<p>She dangled the rich match before his eyes: he blinked them, as he +continued to look at her and smile.</p> + +<p>"But then you must help me!" she continued, with a gentle threat.</p> + +<p>"I will do my best, Alexa, but I can promise nothing," he just had time +to reply. "Wait for me after the drawing-room, in one of the other +rooms," he whispered, accompanying her for a few steps.</p> + +<p>All this time the titles were being cried, ceremoniously, slowly; the +ladies moved on, dropped their trains, blossomed out.</p> + +<p>"Her excellency the Duchess of Yemena, Countess of Vaza; their +excellencies the Marchionesses of Yemena...."</p> + +<p>The duchess moved on, the girls followed her, crimson, with beating +hearts. They passed through a long gallery, dropping their trains; at +the door of the presence-room, before they entered, stood flunkeys who +spread out the heavy court-mantles.</p> + +<p>"Her excellency the Duchess of ..."</p> + +<p>The titles rang out for the second time, this time through the +presence-chamber and with a sound of greater reverence, because they +echoed in the listening ears of welcoming majesty.</p> + +<p>The duchess and the marchionesses entered. Between the wide hangings of +dark-blue velvet, on which glittered the cross of St. Ladislas, and +under the canopy supported by gilt pillars, sat the empress, like an +idol, glittering in the shadow in her watered-silver brocade, the ermine +imperial mantle falling in heavy folds to her feet, a small diadem +sparkling upon her head. To the right of the throne, on a low stool, sat +the Princess Thera, on the left stood the mistress of the robes, the +Countess of Threma; round about, on either side, a crowd of +ladies-in-waiting, court-officials, equerries, maids of honour, grooms +of the bed-chamber....</p> + +<p>The duchess made her curtsey, approached the throne and with great +reverence, as though with diffident lips, touched the jewelled +finger-tips, which the empress held out like a live relic. Then the +duchess took two steps backwards; the marchionesses, one after the +other, followed her example, surprising everybody by the attractive +freshness of their first court-movements, in which the touch of +awkwardness became a charm. Then the bows, in a long ritual of +withdrawal, backwards. They disappeared through other doors, found +themselves in a long gallery, entered other reception-rooms, where +people stood waiting for their carriages. And the two girls looked at +each other, seeking each other's impressions, still crimson with the +excitement in their vain little hearts and strangely surprised at the +incomprehensible briefness of this first and all-important moment of +their lives as grown-up people, as ladies accompanying their mamma to +the Imperial, where they would thenceforth lead their existence. For how +many months beforehand they had thought and dreamed of this moment; now, +suddenly, with surprising quickness, it was over....</p> + +<p>The duchess chucked Hélène under the chin, put Eleonore's veil straight, +said that they had curtseyed beautifully, that she had herself even +noticed how pleased the Countess of Threma had been with them. Then she +chatted busily with the other ladies, introduced the little +marchionesses, promised visits. Then she turned to a flunkey:</p> + +<p>"Go and see where my carriage is and tell it to leave the rank and drive +up last. Here...."</p> + +<p>She gave him a gold coin; the flunkey disappeared. A nervous impatience +seized the duchess; she looked out anxiously for Dutri. At last her eyes +caught sight of him; he came up with his fatuous fussiness:</p> + +<p>"Alexa, it's impossible...."</p> + +<p>"Have you asked the prince?"</p> + +<p>"No, not yet; there's the question, to begin with, whether he'll see +<i>me</i>. But then ... how am I to take you to him? There are always +servants hanging about in the doorways, to say nothing of the guards and +halberdiers; in the anterooms you run up against a chamberlain at any +moment. Really, it is impossible."</p> + +<p>She grew angry:</p> + +<p>"Begin by asking him. We'll see later how we're to get to him."</p> + +<p>Dutri made graceful gestures of despair:</p> + +<p>"But, Alexa, can't you really understand ... that it is impossible?..."</p> + +<p>She made no reply, not wishing to reflect, her head filled with her +stubborn fixed idea to see the prince, to insist on seeing him. And, +suddenly, turning to him:</p> + +<p>"Very well, if you don't care to do anything for me, you needn't think I +shall help you in <i>any</i> way."</p> + +<p>Her nervous, angry voice sounded louder than her first whispered words: +the two girls heard her.</p> + +<p>"Alexa," he besought her, gently.</p> + +<p>"No, no," she resisted, curtly.</p> + +<p>He thought of his debts and of Eleonore:</p> + +<p>"I'll try," he whispered, in despair.</p> + +<p>She promptly rewarded him with a smile; he went, hurried away again, +with his eternal air of fussy importance, because of his young imperial +master, who was so sadly ill. In the anteroom he found the chamberlain +on duty:</p> + +<p>"Would the prince be willing to see me?"</p> + +<p>The chamberlain shrugged his shoulders:</p> + +<p>"I'll ask," he said.</p> + +<p>He speedily returned: the prince had sent word that Dutri could come in.</p> + +<p>Dutri entered. Othomar lay on a couch covered with tiger-skins, in front +of his writing-table. He had grown thinner; his eyes were hollow, his +complexion was wan; his neck protruded frail and wasted from the loose +turn-down collar of his silk shirt, over which he wore a velvet jacket. +In his hand he held an open book. Djalo, the collie, lay on the floor.</p> + +<p>Dutri the voluble began to press his request in rapid sentences +following close upon one another's heels....</p> + +<p>"The duchess?" repeated Othomar, faintly. "No, no...."</p> + +<p>Dutri galloped on, simulated melancholy, employed words of gentle, +insinuating sadness. Othomar's face assumed an expression which was +strange to it and quite new: it was as though the melancholy of his +features were crystallizing into a stubborn obstinacy, a silent +doggedness.</p> + +<p>"No," he said once more, while his voice, too, sounded dogged and +obstinate. "Make my apologies to the duchess, Dutri. And where ... where +would she wish to see me?"</p> + +<p>"I did not fail to point out this difficulty to her excellency; but +perhaps, if your highness would be so gracious ... one might +nevertheless...."</p> + +<p>Othomar closed his eyes and threw his head back; his hand fell loosely +upon the collie's head. He made no further reply and his lips were +tightly compressed.</p> + +<p>Dutri still hesitated: what could he do, what should he tell Alexa?...</p> + +<p>But the door opened and the empress entered. The drawing-room was over; +she had put off her robes and the crown, but she still wore her stiff, +heavy dress of silver brocade. She looked coldly at Dutri and bowed her +head slightly, as a sign for him to go: the equerry beat a confused +retreat, without his usual tact.</p> + +<p>Othomar half-rose from his couch:</p> + +<p>"Mamma!..."</p> + +<p>She sat down beside him, stroked his forehead with her hand:</p> + +<p>"How do you feel?"</p> + +<p>He smiled and blinked with his eyes, without replying.</p> + +<p>"What was Dutri doing here?"</p> + +<p>"He wanted ... Oh, mamma, never mind, don't ask me!... How beautiful you +look! May I, too, kiss your hand?"</p> + +<p>Winningly, jestingly he took her hand and kissed it. She took his book +from his fingers, read the treasonable title:</p> + +<p>"Are you reading again, Othomar?... You know you mustn't read so much. +And why all these strange books?..."</p> + +<p>On the table lay Lassalle, Marx, works by Russian nihilists, a pamphlet +by Bakounine, pamphlets by Zanti.... The little work which he was +reading was by a well-known Liparian anarchist and entitled, <i>Injustice +by the Grace of God;</i> it overthrew everything: religion and the state; +it addressed itself directly to the crowned tyrants in power; it +addressed itself directly to Oscar.</p> + +<p>"Is it to get back your health, Othomar, that you read this sort of +thing?" she asked, in a tone of pained reproach.</p> + +<p>"But, mamma, I must see what it is that they want...."</p> + +<p>"And what do they want?"</p> + +<p>He looked pensively before him:</p> + +<p>"I don't know what they want, I can't understand them. They employ very +long sentences, the same sentences over and over again, with the same +words over and over again. I can just make out that they disapprove of +everything that exists and want something different. But yet +sometimes...."</p> + +<p>"Sometimes what?"</p> + +<p>"Sometimes they say terrible things, terrible because they sound so +true, mamma. When they speak of God and prove that He does not exist, +when they describe our whole system of government as a monstrosity and +reject all authority, including our own.... They sometimes speak like +children who have suddenly learnt to talk and to judge; and then +sometimes they suddenly speak clearly; and then very primitive thoughts +arise in me: if God exists, why is there any injustice and misery; and +our authority: on what right is that founded? O God, mamma, what right +have we to reign over others, over millions? Tell me—but argue from the +beginning: don't argue backwards; don't begin with us: begin with our +first rulers, our usurpers—what right had they? And does ours merely +spring from theirs? Oh, these problems, these simple problems: who can +solve them, my God, who can solve them?..."</p> + +<p>Elizabeth suddenly turned pale. She stared at him as though he had gone +mad:</p> + +<p>"Who gives you these books?" she asked, harshly, hoarsely, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Dutri, Leoni; Andro has also fetched me some."</p> + +<p>"They're mad!" exclaimed the empress, rising. "Why do you ask for them?"</p> + +<p>"I want to know, mamma...."</p> + +<p>"Othomar," she cried, "will you do what I ask?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, mamma," he replied, gently, "but sit down again and ... and don't +be angry. And ... and don't say 'Othomar.' And ... and go and change +your dress: oh, I can't see you in that dress; you are so far from me; +your voice doesn't reach me and I daren't kiss you: you are not my +mother, you are the empress! Mamma, O mamma!..."</p> + +<p>His voice appealed to her. A powerful emotion awoke in her.</p> + +<p>"O my boy!" she cried, with a half-sob breaking in her throat.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, call me that.... Mamma, let's be quick and find each other +again, let us not lose each other. What is your request?"</p> + +<p>"Give me all those books."</p> + +<p>"I will give them to you; they make me no happier, when all is said!"</p> + +<p>"But then why are you unhappy, my boy, my boy?"</p> + +<p>"Mamma, look at the world, look at our people, see how they suffer, see +how they are oppressed! What shall I ever be able to do for them! I +shall always be powerless, in spite of all our power! Oh, it grows so +dark in front of me, I can see nothing more, I have no hope; only +Utopians have any hope left, but I ... I no longer hope, for I can do +nothing, nothing!... O my God, mamma, the whole country is falling upon +me and crushing me and I can do nothing, nothing!... I shall have to +reign and I shall not be able to, mamma. What am I? A poor sickly boy: +how can I become emperor? I don't know why it is, mamma, nor what it +comes from, but I don't feel like a future emperor, I feel like a feeble +child! I feel like your child, your boy, and nothing more...."</p> + +<p>He seemed about to throw himself into her arms, but on the contrary he +flung himself backwards, as though he were frightened by her brilliant +attire; his head dropped nervelessly on his chest, his arms fell loosely +down. She saw his movement: her first feeling was one of regret that she +had come to him in court-dress, longing as she did to see him, not +allowing herself the time to change. But this regret passed through her +as a transient emotion, for it was followed by an intense dizziness, as +though a yawning abyss opened at her feet, as though the earth retreated +and black nothingness gaped before her. A despair as of utter impotence +enveloped her soul. Vaguely she stretched out her arms and threw them +round his neck, as though she were groping in the dark, with wandering +eyes:</p> + +<p>"My boy, don't talk like that any more, because ... when you talk like +that, you take away my strength too!" she whispered, in alarm. "For how +can it be helped? You must, we all must...."</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, mamma, but I ... I shall not be able to. Oh, I see it +clearly now! I am not excited, I am calm. I see it, I prophesy it, it +can never be...."</p> + +<p>"But papa is still so young and so strong, my boy; and, when you grow +older...."</p> + +<p>"The older I grow, the more impossible it will be, mamma. I was always +frightened of it as a child, but I never realized it so desperately as +now. No, mamma, it cannot be. Now that I am ill, I have plenty of time +to reflect; and I now see before me what the end of all our trouble is +bound to be...."</p> + +<p>His eyes gazed at the floor in despair; she still half-clung to him, +helplessly; a menacing shiver seemed to float through the room.</p> + +<p>"Mamma...."</p> + +<p>She made no response.</p> + +<p>"I must tell you of my resolve...."</p> + +<p>"What resolve?..."</p> + +<p>"Will you tell it to papa?"</p> + +<p>"What, what, Othomar ... my boy?"</p> + +<p>"That I can't marry ... Valérie, because...."</p> + +<p>"Later, later: you needn't marry yet...."</p> + +<p>"No, mamma, I never can, because I...."</p> + +<p>She looked at him beseechingly, enquiringly.</p> + +<p>"Because I want to abdicate ... my rights ... in favour of ... +Berengar...."</p> + +<p>She made no reply; feebly she drooped against him, not knowing how to +console and cheer him, and softly and plaintively began to sob. It was +as though her soul was being flooded with anguish, slowly but +persistently, until it brimmed over. She reproached herself with it all. +He was her child: the future Emperor of Liparia had derived this +weakness from her. And the manifestation of this agonizing mystery of +heredity before her despairing eyes deprived her of all her strength, of +all her courage, of all her power of acquiescence and resignation.</p> + +<p>"Mamma," he repeated.</p> + +<p>She sobbed on.</p> + +<p>"Don't be so disconsolate.... Berengar will be better than I.... You'll +tell papa, won't you?... Or no, never mind, if it costs you too great an +effort: I'll tell him myself...."</p> + +<p>She started up nervously from her despair:</p> + +<p>"O my God, no! Othomar, no! Don't talk to him about it: he is so +passionate, he would ... he would murder you! Promise me that you will +not talk to him about it! <i>I</i> will tell him—O my God!—<i>I</i> will tell +him...."</p> + +<p>But a tremor of hope revived within her.</p> + +<p>"But, Othomar, I ask you, why do you do this? You are ill now, but you +will get better and then ... then you will think differently!"</p> + +<p>He gazed out before him: his presentiment quivered through him; he saw +his dream again: the streets of Lipara filled with crape, right up to +the sky, where it veiled the sunlight. And over his features there +passed again that new air of hardness, of dogged obstinacy which made +him unrecognizable; he shook his head slowly from side to side, from +side to side:</p> + +<p>"No, mamma, I shall never think differently. Believe me, it will be +better so."</p> + +<p>When she saw him like that, her new hope collapsed again and she sobbed +once more. Sobbing, she rose; amid her sorrow yawned a void; she was +losing something: her son.</p> + +<p>"Are you going?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She nodded yes, sobbing.</p> + +<p>"Do you forgive me?"</p> + +<p>She nodded yes again. Then she gave him a smile, a smile full of +despair; lacking the strength to kiss him, she went out, still sobbing.</p> + +<p>He remained alone and rose from his couch. He stood in the middle of the +room; his eyes stared at the collie:</p> + +<p>"Why need I give her pain!" he thought.</p> + +<p>Everything in his soul hurt him.</p> + +<p>"Why did I go on that voyage with Herman?" he asked himself again. "It +was in those first days of rest that I began to think so much. And yet +Professor Barzia says, 'Rest!' ... What does he know about me? What does +one person know about another?... Djalo!" he cried.</p> + +<p>The collie ran up, wriggling, joyfully.</p> + +<p>"Djalo, what is right? How ought the world to be? Must there be kings +and emperors, Djalo, or had we better all disappear?"</p> + +<p>The dog looked at him, wagging its tail violently; suddenly it jumped up +and licked his face.</p> + +<p>"And why, Djalo, need one man always make the other unhappy? Why need +princes make their people unhappy? Will life always remain the same, for +ages and ages?..."</p> + +<p>Othomar sank into a heap on the couch; his hand fell on the dog, which +licked it passionately.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" he sobbed. "My people, my people!..."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>At this moment the last carriages were driving away in the fore-court of +the Imperial; the staring crowd, behind the grenadiers, peeped curiously +at the pretty ladies glistening through the glass of the state-coaches. +The Duchess of Yemena's carriage came last of all.</p> + + + +<h3>4</h3> + +<p>A spirit of gloom seemed to haunt the ringing marble halls of the +Imperial, a dim melancholy to stifle the cadences of the voices and +their echoes and to hang from the tall ceilings as it had been a heavy +web of atmosphere. It was autumn; the first parties were to take place; +the first court-ball was given. But it seemed to be given because there +was no help for it: it was a slow, official, tedious function. The more +intimate circles of the Imperial, those of the Duchess of Yemena and the +diplomatic body, regretted the more select assemblies in the smaller +rooms of the empress. They looked upon those great balls as necessary +inflictions. The empress' smaller dances, however, were always favoured +as most charming entertainments. But the empress had decided that they +should not take place, because of the illness of the crown-prince. At +this first great ball their majesties appeared only for a brief moment, +to take part in the imperial quadrille....</p> + +<p>Grey ashes fell over the glittering mood of imperial festivity which so +short a time ago had been the usual atmosphere of the palace. The +dinners, once the glories of day after day, were shortened; only the +most necessary invitations were given. The emperor himself maintained a +constant mood of sullenness: the army bill for the augmentation of the +active forces was still attacked in principle in the house of deputies; +and the emperor was resolved at all costs to uphold his minister of war. +Moreover, thanks to the dash of childishness that showed through all his +energy, he had not recovered from his disappointment at the postponement +of the Duke of Xara's marriage. He seemed in a continual state of +irritation because his Liparian world would not go as he wanted it to +go.</p> + +<p>Neither the empress nor the prince himself thought it a favourable +moment to communicate the mournful resolution to the emperor. But for +this very reason the empress began silently to cherish fresh hope. +Nothing had been said yet: the humiliating secret existed only between +her son and herself. Humiliating, because what public reason could he +allege for resigning the succession? What pretext would sound plausible +enough to conceal the true motive of weakness and impotence? And yet he +was her child and Oscar's! It seemed to the empress unfeasible to +communicate Othomar's wish to his father and to tell the emperor that +his own son had no capacity for government. Oh, what sacrifice would she +not be prepared to make, if only she could spare her child this +humiliation! But was he really so powerless to master himself and to +draw himself up, proudly, under the weight of what was as yet no more +than a prince's coronet? Had she but known how to counteract his +discouragement; but she had merely sobbed, merely given way before his +despair; in vain had she sought in his soul the secret spring that +should cause him to rise from the impotence into which the languor of +his reflections had made him sink.... And yet she felt that there must +be a secret spring, because she instinctively divined its presence in +the souls of all her equals: it was the mystery of their sovereignty, +the reason why they were sovereigns, the reason of their prerogative. +She possessed the adorable, child-like faith that in them, the crowned +heads, there exists a common essence of distinction which raises them +above the crowd: that single drop of sacred blood in their veins, that +single atom of inherited divinity, which sheds lustre through their +souls. She believed in their high exclusive right of majesty. Because +she believed in that even as she believed in her sinfulness as a human +being and in the absolution of her confessor, the Archbishop of Lipara, +she could never for one instant doubt their right divine as rulers. +Whatever people might think, or write, or want different, theirs was the +right: of this she was certain, as certain as of the Trinity. That +Othomar had doubted the existence of God had struck her as impious, but +it had not shattered her so much as his disbelief in their right. Was he +alone then lacking in that essence of distinction, that sacred golden +drop of blood, that divine atom? And, if he lacked it, if he, the +crown-prince, lacked majesty, was this monstrous lack her fault, the +fault of the mother who bore him?</p> + +<p>The suspicion of this guilt crushed her; and before she even dared to +speak to Othomar she humbled herself before the archbishop. The prelate, +alarmed at these portents in the mysterious melancholy of the Imperial, +had scarcely known how to comfort her. After that, she remained +prostrate for hours before her crucifix. She prayed with all her soul, +prayed for light for herself and for her son, prayed for strength and +that the spark might descend upon Othomar. When she had prayed thus, so +long and with such conviction, there came over her, like an afflatus of +the Holy Ghost, a sense of peace. She became herself again, she awaited +events, regained her credulous fatalism, her conviction that nothing +happens but what must happen and is right. What was wrong did not +happen. If it were fated that Othomar must receive that spark, that +would be right; if it were fated that he must abdicate, that would be +right too, O God, right with a strange, inscrutable rightness!...</p> + +<p>Because the days had passed without her having yet spoken to the +emperor, she hoped anew; she hoped that Othomar would be his old self +again and no longer seek his own degradation. But it was as though she +hoped in spite of everything; for, each time that she now saw Othomar, +she found him duller and more exhausted, more helpless beneath the +certainty of his weakness. Professor Barzia, who treated the prince +personally and twice a day gave him his cold-water douche in the palace, +seemed to be least uneasy about Othomar's physical weakness. The prince +was not robust, but the professor divined in his delicate constitution +the presence of the element that had sprung from the first rough, +sensual strength of the Czyrkiski race: the Slavonic element, which had +become enervated through its Latin admixtures, but had lingered on; a +secret toughness, an indestructible factor of unsuspected firmness, +which lay deep down, like a foundation, and upon which much seemed to be +built that was very slender and fragile. What had once been rude +strength the professor believed he had discovered in a certain +toughness; what had been cruelty and lust, in a certain enervation, +which had hitherto been held in check by self-restraint and a +spontaneous sense of duty, but which now suddenly revealed itself in +this excessive lassitude. Barzia distinctly perceived in Othomar the +scion of his ancestors; and he considered that, though the rich physical +vigour of the original sovereign blood had become refined, as if it were +now flowing more thinly through feebler veins, yet that blood was not so +impoverished that the delicacy of this future emperor need be ascribed +to racial exhaustion. Possibly Barzia's sudden affection for the prince +tinged this physiological diagnosis with excessive optimism; at any +rate, the professor had not the least fear of this fragility, or even of +this nervous weakness. What he did fear was lest those mental qualities +which had so suddenly endeared the prince to him should not be able to +maintain themselves during this period of fatigue and exhaustion. +Spontaneous, unreflected, uncalculated he knew those virtues to be in +the prince, as it were a treasure unknown to himself: would they be +lost, now, in these mournful days, or would they remain, perhaps +develop, become more and more refined, make up to Othomar in moral +strength for what he lacked in physical strength and in this way cure +him? For the professor knew it: these qualities alone could effect a +cure....</p> + +<p>Othomar himself thought neither of his virtues nor of his blood: he +thought of his future and thought of it with an hourly-increasing dread. +When the empress asked Barzia whether this rest would be good for the +prince and whether distraction would not be better, the professor +declared that the prince had had plenty of distraction lately. He must +first get over his fatigue, get over it entirely; it mattered less with +what the prince kept his brain occupied for the moment....</p> + +<p>But Barzia did not mean this altogether and would doubtless have been +very far from meaning it at all, had he known of what the prince was +thinking, or been fully able to judge his utter lack of mental +elasticity.</p> + +<p>And the days passed by. Othomar did not mention his resolution to the +empress again, desiring to give her as little pain as possible; neither +did the empress allude to it: she hoped on.</p> + +<p>But in Othomar's meditations it revolved incessantly, like a wheel: he +was able to do nothing for his people and yet he loved them; he did not +know how to govern them, he would abdicate his rights and his title of +crown-prince: Berengar should become Duke of Xara....</p> + +<p>The small prince came and paid his brother a short visit every morning; +he always wore his little uniform, looking like a sturdy little general +in miniature, and Othomar watched him with a smile.</p> + +<p>Was there no wish to rule in the boy's medieval little brain, was there +no jealousy in his passionate little heart? Othomar remembered the +history of Liparia, in the cruel times of their early middle-ages, that +terrible drama—they still showed at St. Ladislas the chamber where it +had been enacted—that second son stabbing his elder brother in his lust +for the crown and hurling the corpse from an oriel window into the +Zanthos, which flowed beneath the fortress. What had the boy inherited +of this rivalry? And, though this rivalry had been wholly refined into +less salient feelings, would not an immense happiness enter Berengar's +small princely soul if he were to learn that he might be crown-prince +now and that one day he would be ... emperor? But what would the boy +think of him, Othomar, for giving away all this magnificence of his own +free will? Would he despise him, while yet feeling grateful to him, or +would he cherish mistrust, suspecting a lurking mystery behind all this +greatness, which Othomar cast from him?...</p> + +<p>At such times Othomar would draw the little fellow to him with silent +compassion, but would take pleasure in feeling the firm muscles of his +sturdy little arms and listening to his short, crisp little speeches. +Then Berengar rode away and Djalo was allowed to run with him through +the park: in an hour he would bring the dog back to Othomar and talk +with great importance of his lessons, which were just beginning.</p> + +<p>And, when Berengar had gone, Othomar lay thinking about him in his long +hours of reverie, already looked upon his brother as actually +crown-prince, erased his own name from the list of future sovereigns, +thought of what he would do when he was cured and had shaken off the +last remnant of his purple, remembered his uncle Xaverius, who was the +abbot of a monastery, and pictured himself studying, compiling works on +history and sociology....</p> + + + +<h3>5</h3> + +<p>These were autumn days. The sunny blue of the sky was often clouded with +grey; in the morning the winds blew from the north, blew over the sea +till it became the colour of steel; then the sun broke through and shone +very warmly for a couple of hours, with an occasional cold blast, +suddenly and treacherously rushing round the corners of the streets; +then, at four or half-past four o'clock, the sun was extinguished and +the pale sky was left exhaling its icy chillness on the open harbour, +between the white palaces, in the streets and squares.</p> + +<p>It was a treacherous time of year: the empress and Berengar had caught +cold driving in an open carriage; they both kept their rooms and Othomar +in his turn went to visit them; the empress was coughing, the little +prince had a temperature; there was never so much illness about as now, +the doctors declared. And a melancholy continued to brood through the +halls of the Imperial, through the whole town, where the imperial family +were no longer seen at the opera and at parties. Never had the daily +dinners at the Imperial been so short, with so few guests; and it made +an insurmountably sad impression not to see the empress seated next to +the emperor, delicate, distinguished, august, but in her stead the +Princess Thera, who seemed quite incapable of bringing a smile to +Oscar's grim and peevish features.</p> + +<p>Othomar did not even know that those about the empress were anxious on +her behalf: she always received him with all the cheerfulness that she +could muster, in spite of the pain on her chest; the doctors told him +nothing, no one gave him the bulletins, every one tried to spare him; +and besides there was really less anxiety in the Imperial than in the +town and throughout the country. But the little prince received Othomar +with less meekness than did the empress; and every day there were silent +rages, sulking displays against the doctors for keeping him in bed.</p> + +<p>Once, when the crown-prince came to see Berengar, the doctors were with +him; the fever had increased, but the little prince wanted to get out of +bed; he was naughty, used ugly names, had even struck the good-natured, +big-headed doctor and pummelled him with his little clenched fist.</p> + +<p>"As soon as you're better, Berengar," said Othomar, after first +reproving him, "I shall make you a present."</p> + +<p>"What of?" asked the boy, eagerly. "But I am better now!"</p> + +<p>"No, no, you must do what the doctors tell you and not vex them."</p> + +<p>"And what will you give me then?"</p> + +<p>Othomar looked at him long and firmly.</p> + +<p>"What shall I have then?" repeated the child.</p> + +<p>"I mustn't tell you yet, Berengar; it's really rather big for you +still."</p> + +<p>"What is it then? A horse?"</p> + +<p>"No, it's not as big as a horse, but heavier. Don't ask any more about +it and also don't try and guess what it is, but be obedient: then you'll +get better and then you shall have it."</p> + +<p>"Heavier than a horse and not so big!..." Berengar pondered, with +glowing cheeks.</p> + +<p>With his head bowed on his breast, dragging his footsteps, Othomar +returned to his room. He stayed there for hours, sitting silently, +gloomily, in the same attitude; as usual, he did not appear at dinner +and hardly ate what Andro brought him. Then he went to lie down on his +couch, took up a book to read, but put it down again and raised himself +up, as though with a sudden impulse:</p> + +<p>"Why not now?" he thought. "Why keep on postponing it?..."</p> + +<p>Night fell, but the upper corridors of the palace were not yet lighted; +dragging his fatigue through this dusky shadow, Othomar went to the +emperor's anterooms. The chamberlain announced him.</p> + +<p>Oscar sat at his writing-table, pen in hand.</p> + +<p>"Am I disturbing you, papa? Or can I speak to you?"</p> + +<p>"No, you're not disturbing me.... Have you been to see mamma?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, this afternoon; she was pretty well, but Berengar's temperature +was higher."</p> + +<p>The emperor glanced up at him:</p> + +<p>"Worse than this morning?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know: he was rather feverish."</p> + +<p>The emperor rose:</p> + +<p>"Do you want to talk to me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, papa."</p> + +<p>"Wait a moment, then. I've not been to Berengar yet to-day."</p> + +<p>He went out, leaving the door ajar.</p> + +<p>Othomar remained alone. He sat down. He looked round the great +work-room, which he knew so well from their morning consultations with +the chancellor. Lately, however, he had not attended these. He thought +over what he should say; meanwhile his eyes wandered around; they fell +upon the great mirror with its gilt arabesques; something seemed strange +to him. Then he rose and walked up to the glass:</p> + +<p>"I was under the impression there was a flaw near the top of it," he +thought. "I can't well be mistaken. Has it been renewed?"</p> + +<p>He was still standing by the looking-glass, when Oscar returned:</p> + +<p>"Berengar is not at all well; the fever is increasing," he said; and the +tone of his voice hesitated. "Mamma is with him...."</p> + +<p>Absorbed as he was in his own meditations, it did not strike Othomar +that the little prince must have become worse for the empress, who was +herself ill, to go to him.</p> + +<p>"And about what did you want to speak to me?" asked the emperor, as the +prince remained silent.</p> + +<p>"About Berengar, papa."</p> + +<p>"About Berengar?"</p> + +<p>"About Berengar and myself. I have been contrasting myself with him, +papa. We are brothers, we are both your sons. Which of us, do you think, +takes most after you ... and ... our ancestors?"</p> + +<p>"What are you driving at, Othomar?"</p> + +<p>"At what is right, papa: right and just. Nature is sometimes unjust and +blind; she ought to have let Berengar be born first and me next ... or +even left me out altogether."</p> + +<p>"Once more, what are you driving at, Othomar?"</p> + +<p>"Can't you see, papa? I will tell you. Is Berengar not more of a monarch +than I am? Is that not why he's your favourite? And ought I to deprive +him of his natural rights for the sake of my traditional rights? I want +to abdicate in his favour, papa. I want to abdicate everything, all my +rights."</p> + +<p>"The boy's mad," muttered Oscar.</p> + +<p>"All my rights," repeated Othomar, dreamily, as though he foresaw the +future: his little brother crowned.</p> + +<p>"Othomar, are you raving?" asked the emperor.</p> + +<p>"Papa, I am not raving. What I am now telling you I have thought over +for days, perhaps weeks; I don't know: time passes so quickly.... What I +am telling you I have discussed with mamma: it made her cry, but she did +not oppose me. She looks at it as I do.... And what I tell you holds +good; I have made up my mind and nothing can make me change it.... I am +fond of Berengar; I am glad to give up everything to him; and I shall +pray that he may become happy through my gift. I am convinced—and so +are you—that Berengar will make a better emperor than I. What talent do +I possess for ruling?..."</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders in helplessness, with a nervous shudder that +jolted them:</p> + +<p>"None," he answered himself. "I have no talent, I can do nothing. I do +not know how to decide—as now—nor how to act; I shall always be a +dreamer. Why then should I be emperor and he nothing more than the +commander-in-chief of my army or my fleet? Surely that can't be right; +that can't have been what nature intended.... Papa, I give it him, my +birthright, and I ... I shall know how to live, if I must...."</p> + +<p>The emperor had listened to him with his elbows on the table and his +hands under his chin and now sat staring at him with his small, pinched +eyes:</p> + +<p>"Do you mean all this?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, papa."</p> + +<p>"You're not delirious?"</p> + +<p>"No, papa, I'm not delirious."</p> + +<p>"Then you're mad."</p> + +<p>The emperor rose:</p> + +<p>"Then you're mad, I tell you. Othomar, realize that you're mad and +return to your senses; don't become quite insane."</p> + +<p>"Why do you call me insane, papa? <i>Can't</i> you agree with me that +Berengar would be better than I?"</p> + +<p>His father's cruel glances stabbed Othomar through and through:</p> + +<p>"No, you're not insane in that; you're right there...."</p> + +<p>"And why, then, am I insane because I wish, for that reason, to abdicate +in his favour?"</p> + +<p>"Because it's impossible, Othomar."</p> + +<p>"What law prevents me?"</p> + +<p>"My will, Othomar."</p> + +<p>The prince drew himself up proudly:</p> + +<p>"Your will?" he cried. "Your will? You acknowledge that I am nothing of +a prince except by birth? You acknowledge that Berengar does possess +your capacity for ruling and you will not, you <i>will</i> not have me +abdicate? And you think that I shall fall in with that will?..."</p> + +<p>He uttered a hoarse laugh:</p> + +<p>"No, papa, I shall pay no heed to that will. You can carry through your +will in everything, but not in this. Though you called out your whole +army, you could not prevail against me here. There is a limit to the +power of human will, papa, and nothing, nothing, nothing can prevent me +from considering myself unfit to reign and from <i>refusing</i> to wear a +crown!"</p> + +<p>The emperor seized Othomar's wrists; his hot breath hissed in Othomar's +face:</p> + +<p>"You damned cub!" he snarled between his large, white teeth. "You +wretched nincompoop! You're right: there's nothing of the emperor in +you; there never will be. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were the +son of a footman. You're right, you're incompetent. You're nothing: our +crown doesn't fit you. And yet, though I had to lock you up in a prison, +so that no one might hear of your baseness, you shall <i>not</i> abdicate +your rights. My will extends farther than you can see. Do you hear? You +shan't do it, you shan't resign, though from this moment onwards I have +to hide you, as a disgrace, from the world. Your slack brain can't +understand that, can it? You can't understand that I'm fonder of +Berengar than of a poltroon like you and that nevertheless I won't have +him as my successor in your stead? Then I shall have to tell you. I +won't have it, so as not to let the world see the degeneration of our +race. I will not have the world know how pitiably we have deteriorated +in you; and I would rather ... I would rather murder you than allow you +to abdicate!"</p> + +<p>Fiercely Oscar took the prince by his shoulders, pushed him backwards on +a couch, on which Othomar sank in a huddled attitude, while his father +continued to hold him like a prey in the grip of his strong hands:</p> + +<p>"But I tell you," continued the emperor, "I tell you, you are <i>not</i> the +son of a footman, you are my son; and I shall not murder you, because I +am your father. I will only say this to you, Othomar: you might have +spared me this. I believe you have a high opinion of your own delicacy +of feeling, but you have not the very least feeling. You do not even +feel that you have been contemplating a villainy, the villainy of a +proletarian, a slave, a pariah, a wretch. You have not felt even for an +instant the pain you would cause me by such an infamy. You saw that I +was fonder of your brother; you thought that I should approve of your +cowardly proposal. Not for a moment did the thought occur to you that, +with that cowardice of yours, you would give <i>me</i> the greatest pain that +I could ever experience!..."</p> + +<p>Othomar, utterly crushed, had fallen back upon the couch. He was no +longer able to distinguish what was just and what was true; he no longer +knew himself at that minute; his father's words lashed his soul like +whips. And he felt no strength within him to resist them: the insulting +reproaches kept him down, as though he had been thrashed. Infamy and +disgrace, insanity and degeneration: he collapsed beneath them; he +gulped down the mud of them, till he felt like suffocating. And that he +did not suffocate and continued to breathe, continued to live, that the +light was bright around him, that things remained unchanged, that the +outside world knew nothing: all this was despair to him. For a moment he +thought of his mother. But he wished for darkness, for death, to hide +himself, himself and his shame, his degeneration, the leprosy of his +pariah-temperament.... It flashed through him in the second after that +last lash of reproach, flashed across his despondent soul. He knew that +Oscar always kept a loaded revolver in an open pigeon-hole of his +writing-table. His brain grew tense in the effort of thinking how to +reach it. He rose, approached the pigeon-hole; suddenly he sprang +towards it, stretched out his hand and seized the pistol....</p> + +<p>Did Oscar believe that his son had been driven mad by his last words and +now wanted his father's life? Did he perceive this ecstasy of suicide in +his offspring, was his quivering brain penetrated by the horrible +thought that self-destruction would be the pariah's last refuge? Be this +as it might, he rushed at Othomar. But the prince lightly leapt out of +his reach, pointed the revolver, with wild eyes, with distorted +features, in senseless despair, upon himself, upon his own forehead, on +which the veins swelled blue....</p> + +<p>"Othomar!" roared the emperor.</p> + +<p>At this moment hurried footsteps were heard outside, confused words +sounded in the anteroom and the Marquis of Xardi, the emperor's +aide-de-camp, alarmed and flurried, threw the door wide open....</p> + +<p>"Sir!" he exclaimed. "The empress asks if your majesty will come to +Prince Berengar this instant...."</p> + +<p>The shot had gone off, into the wall. Blood dripped from Othomar's ear. +The emperor had caught hold of the crown-prince and torn the revolver, +still loaded in five chambers, from him; a second shot went off in that +brief moment of struggle, into the ceiling, Othomar remained standing +vacantly.</p> + +<p>"Marquis!" the emperor hissed out at Xardi. "I don't know what you +think, but I tell you this: you've seen nothing, you think nothing. What +happened here before you came in ... did not happen."</p> + +<p>He pointed his finger, threateningly at Xardi:</p> + +<p>"Should you ever forget, marquis, that it did not happen, then I shall +forget who you are, though your pedigree dates back farther than ours!"</p> + +<p>Xardi stood deathly pale before his emperor:</p> + +<p>"My God, sir!..."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by entering your sovereign's room in this unmannerly +fashion? Even the Duke of Xara has himself announced, marquis!"</p> + +<p>"Sir...."</p> + +<p>"What? Speak up!..."</p> + +<p>"Her majesty...."</p> + +<p>"Well, her majesty?"</p> + +<p>"Prince Berengar ... the fever has increased ... he is delirious, sir, +and the doctors ..."</p> + +<p>The emperor turned pale:</p> + +<p>"Is he dead?" he asked, fiercely. "Tell me at once."</p> + +<p>"Not dead, sir, but...."</p> + +<p>"But what?"</p> + +<p>"But the doctors ... have no hope...."</p> + +<p>With an oath of anguish the emperor pushed the aide aside and darted out +of the room.</p> + +<p>The prince remained standing. Life returned to him: a reality full of +anguish, born of nightmare. His eyes swam with tears:</p> + +<p>"Xardi," he implored, "Xardi ... your house has always been loyal to our +house; swear to me that you will be silent."</p> + +<p>The marquis looked at the crown-prince in consternation:</p> + +<p>"Highness...."</p> + +<p>"Swear to me, Xardi."</p> + +<p>"I swear to you, highness," said the aide, subdued; and he stretched out +his fingers to the crucifix hanging on the wall.</p> + +<p>Othomar pressed his hand:</p> + +<p>"Did Prince Berengar...." He could scarcely speak. "Did Prince Berengar +become so ill suddenly?..."</p> + +<p>"The fever is increasing every moment, highness, and he is +delirious...."</p> + +<p>"I will go to him," said Othomar.</p> + +<p>He wiped the blood from his ear with his handkerchief and held the +cambric, which was at once soaked through, against it.</p> + +<p>In the last anteroom he passed the chamberlain and looked at him +askance.</p> + +<p>Xardi stopped for a moment:</p> + +<p>"The Duke of Xara has hurt himself slightly," he said. "He was examining +the emperor's revolver when I went in and he started: two shots went +off."</p> + +<p>"I heard them," whispered the chamberlain, pale as death.</p> + +<p>"There might have been an accident...."</p> + +<p>They were silent for a moment; their glances were full of understanding; +a shudder crept down their backs. The chill night seemed to be +descending over the palace as with clouds of evil omen.</p> + +<p>"And ... the little prince?..." asked the chamberlain, shivering.</p> + +<p>Xardi shrugged his shoulders; his eyes grew moist, through innate, +immemorial love for his sovereigns:</p> + +<p>"Dying," he answered, faintly.</p> + + + +<h3>6</h3> + +<p>The crown-prince passed through the anteroom: one of the doctors stood +dipping poultices into a basin of ice; a valet was bringing in a pail of +fresh ice. The door of the bedroom was open and Othomar remained +standing at the door. The little prince lay on his camp-bed, talking in +a low, sing-song tone; the empress, pale, suffering, bearing up in spite +of everything, sat beside him with Princess Thera.</p> + +<p>The emperor exchanged brief words with the two other doctors, whose +features were overcast with a stark hopelessness; a mordant anguish +distorted Oscar's face, which became furrowed with deep wrinkles:</p> + +<p>"My God, he doesn't know me, he doesn't know me!" Othomar heard the +emperor complain.</p> + +<p>"Nor me," murmured the empress.</p> + +<p>"What can it be? What, what, what can it be?" sang the little prince; +and his usually shrill little voice sounded soft as a bird's melody: it +was as though he were playing by himself. "I'm to have a present from my +brother, from my brother, something nice!" he sang on.</p> + +<p>The empress could distinguish his words, but she did not understand; and +when he went on to sing the name of the crown-prince, with his title:</p> + +<p>"Othomar, O Othomar of Xara, of Xara!..." she turned to the door and +gently implored:</p> + +<p>"Othomar, he's calling your name; come, perhaps he will know you!"</p> + +<p>Othomar approached; he went past the emperor and knelt down by the bed; +a smile lit up Berengar's little face.</p> + +<p>"He is becoming calmer," said the kind doctor, whose tears were running +down his cheeks, to Oscar. "Does your majesty see? The prince recognizes +his highness the duke...."</p> + +<p>A note of gladness sounded in his voice.</p> + +<p>But a violent jealousy distorted the emperor's features:</p> + +<p>"No, no," he said.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, sir, only look," the doctor insisted, his hope reviving.</p> + +<p>"O Othomar, O Othomar of Xara!" sang the little prince: he had +recognized his brother, but did not see him in the flesh, saw him only +in his waking dream, through the mist of his fever.</p> + +<p>"What do you bring me that's nice? Smaller than a horse, but heavier? +Heavier? Oh, how heavy it is, how heavy, heavy, heavy!..."</p> + +<p>His little voice came as though with an effort, as though he were +lifting something; his convulsive, small, broad hands made a gesture of +laborious lifting.</p> + +<p>"Berengar," said the crown-prince; and his voice broke, his heart sank +within him....</p> + +<p>"Othomar," replied the child.</p> + +<p>A cry of anguish escaped the emperor.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you're always so good to me," continued the little prince in his +sing-song. "You always give me such nice things. You know, those lovely +guns on my last birthday? And that pistol? But mamma's afraid of +that!... Are you dying, Othomar? Look, there's blood on your ear.... But +when people bleed they die! Are you dying, Othomar? Look, blood on your +coat...."</p> + +<p>The empress remained sitting straight upright; she glared from Berengar +at the bleeding wound of her eldest son....</p> + +<p>"Blood, blood, blood!" sang Berengar. "Othomar is dying! Yes, he always +gives me so many nice things, does Othomar. I have so many already, many +more than all the other children of Liparia put together! And what am I +to have now?... Still more?... That nice thing: what is it? I can feel +it: it's so heavy; but I can't see it...."</p> + +<p>The doctor had come from the anteroom and approached with the poultices.</p> + +<p>"I can't see it!... I can't see it!..." the boy sang out, painfully and +faintly.</p> + +<p>When the doctor applied the poultices, Berengar struggled, began to cry, +as though a great sorrow was springing up in his little heart:</p> + +<p>"I can't see it!" he sobbed. "I shall never see it!..."</p> + +<p>A violent paroxysm succeeded the sobbing: he struck out wildly with his +arms, pulled off the poultices, threw the ice off his head, stood up +mad-eyed in his bed, flung away the sheets.... Othomar rose, the empress +also. The emperor sat in a chair, his face covered with his hands, and +sobbed by Princess Thera's side. The doctors approached the bed, +endeavoured to calm Berengar, but he struck them: the fever mounted into +his little brain in madness.</p> + +<p>At this moment Professor Barzia entered: he was not staying in the +palace; he had been sent for at his hotel.</p> + +<p>"What is your highness doing here?" he said, point-blank, to Othomar.</p> + +<p>The crown-prince made no reply.</p> + +<p>"Your highness will retire to your own rooms at once," the professor +commanded.</p> + +<p>"Save my boy!" exclaimed the emperor, broken, sobbing.</p> + +<p>"I am saving the crown-prince first, sir: he is killing himself here!"</p> + +<p>"Very well, but next save <i>him!</i>" shouted Oscar, fiercely.</p> + +<p>The other doctors had given orders: a tub was brought in, filled with +lukewarm water, regulated by a thermometer.... But Othomar saw no more: +he rushed away, driven out by Barzia's stern glances. He rushed along +the corridors, through a group of officers and chamberlains, who stood +anxiously whispering and made way for him. He plunged into his own room, +which was not lighted. In the dark, he thought he was flinging himself +upon a couch, but bumped upon the ground. There he remained lying. Then, +as though crushed by the darkness, he began to croon, to moan, to sob +aloud, with sharp, hysterical cries.</p> + +<p>Andro entered; his foot struck against the prince. He lit the gas, tried +to lift his master. But Othomar lay heavy as lead; fierce and prolonged, +his nervous cries came jolting from his throat. Andro rang, once, twice, +three times; he went on ringing for a long time; at last a footman and a +chamberlain appeared together, at different doors.</p> + +<p>"Call Professor Barzia!" cried Andro to the footman. "Excellency, will +you help me lift his highness?" he begged the chamberlain.</p> + +<p>But, when the footman turned round, he ran against the professor, who +could do nothing for the little prince and had followed the +crown-prince. He saw Othomar lying on the floor, moaning, screaming....</p> + +<p>"Leave me alone with his highness," he ordered, with a glance around +him.</p> + +<p>The chamberlain, Andro, the footman obeyed his order.</p> + +<p>The professor was a tall old man, heavily-built and strong; he +approached the prince and lifted him in his arms, notwithstanding the +leaden heaviness of hysteria. Thus he held him, merely with his arms +around him, upon the couch and looked deep into his eyes, with hypnotic +glances. Suddenly Othomar ceased his cries; his voice was hushed. His +head fell feebly upon Barzia's shoulder. The professor continued to hold +him in his arms. The prince became calm, like a quieted child, without +Barzia's having uttered a word.</p> + +<p>"May I request your highness to go to bed?" said the professor, with a +gentle voice of command.</p> + +<p>He assisted Othomar to get up and himself lit the light in the bedroom +and helped the prince off with his coat.</p> + +<p>"What has made your highness' ear bleed?" asked Barzia, whose fingers +were soiled with clotted blood.</p> + +<p>"A revolver-shot," Othomar began, faintly; his closed and averted eyes +told the rest.</p> + +<p>The professor said nothing more. As though Othomar were a child, he went +on helping him, washed his ear, his neck, his hands, with a mother's +gentleness. Then he made him lie down in bed, covered him over, tidying +the room like a servant. Then he went and sat by the bed, where Othomar +lay staring with strange, wide-open eyes: he took the prince's hand and +sat thus for a long time, looking softly down upon him. The light +behind, turned down low, threw Barzia's large head into the shadow and +just glanced upon his bald cranium, from which a few grey locks hung +down his neck. At last he said, gently:</p> + +<p>"Your highness wishes to get well, do you not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Othomar, in spite of himself.</p> + +<p>"How does your highness propose to do so?" asked the professor.</p> + +<p>The prince did not answer.</p> + +<p>"Doesn't your highness know? Then you must think it over. But you must +keep very calm, will you not, very calm...."</p> + +<p>And he stroked Othomar's hand with a gentle, regular motion, as though +anointing it with balsam.</p> + +<p>"For your highness must never again give way to nervous attacks. Your +highness must study how to prevent them. I am giving your highness much +to think about," continued Barzia, with a smile. "I am doing this +because I want to let your highness think of other things than of what +you are thinking. I want to clear your brain for you. Are you tired and +do you want to go to sleep, or shall I go on talking?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, go on," whispered the prince.</p> + +<p>"There are days of great grief in store for the Imperial," the doctor +resumed, gently. "Your highness must think of those days without +permitting yourself to be overcome by the grief of them.... The little +prince will probably not recover, highness. Will you think of that ... +and think of your parents, their poor majesties? There are days like +these for a nation, or for a single family, in which grief seems to pile +itself up. For does not this day, this night seem to mark the end of +your race, my prince?... Lie still, lie still, don't move: let me talk +on, like a garrulous old man.... Does your highness know that the +emperor to-day, for the first time in his whole life, cried, sobbed? His +younger son is dying. Between this boy and the father is a first-born +son, who is very, very ill.... Is not all this the end?"</p> + +<p>"Yet, if God wills it so," whispered Othomar.</p> + +<p>"It is our duty to be resigned," said Barzia. "But does God will it so?"</p> + +<p>"Who can tell?..."</p> + +<p>"Ask yourself, but not now, highness: to-morrow, to-morrow.... After the +saddest nights ... the mornings come again...."</p> + +<p>The professor rose and mixed a powder in a glass of water:</p> + +<p>"Drink this, highness...."</p> + +<p>Othomar drank.</p> + +<p>"And now lie quiet and close those wide eyes."</p> + +<p>"I shall not be able to sleep though...."</p> + +<p>"That is not necessary, only close those eyes...."</p> + +<p>Barzia stroked them with his hand; the prince kept them closed. His hand +again lay in the hand of the professor.</p> + +<p>A hush descended upon the room. Outside, in the corridors and galleries, +perplexed steps approached at times, from the distance, in futile haste; +then they sounded away, far away, in despair. A world of sorrow seemed +to fill the palace, there, outside that room, until it held every hall +of it with its dark, tenebrous woe. But in this one room nothing +stirred. The professor sat still and stared before him, absorbed in +thought; the crown-prince had fallen asleep like a child.</p> + + + +<h3>7</h3> + +<p>Next morning the day rose upon an empire in mourning. Prince Berengar +had passed away in the night.</p> + +<p>Othomar had slept long and woke late, as in a strange calm. When +Professor Barzia told him of the young prince's end—the apathy of the +last moments, after a raging fever—it seemed to him as if he already +knew it. The great sorrow which he felt was singularly peaceful, without +rebellion in his heart, and surprised himself. He remained lying calmly +when the professor forbade him to get up. He pictured to himself without +emotion the little prince, motionless, with his eyes closed, on his +camp-bed. Mechanically he folded his hands and prayed for his brother's +little soul.</p> + +<p>He was not allowed to leave his room that day and saw only the empress, +who came to him for an instant. He was not at all surprised that she too +was calm, dry-eyed: she had not yet shed tears. Even when he raised +himself from his pillows and embraced her, she did not cry. Nor did he +cry, but only his own calmness astonished him: not hers. She stayed for +but a moment; then she went away, as though with mechanical steps, and +he was left alone. He saw nobody else that day except Barzia: not even +Andro entered his room.</p> + +<p>Outside the chamber, the prince, judging from certain steps in the +corridors, certain sounds of voices—the little that penetrated to +him—could divine the sorrow of the palace; he pictured sad tidings +spreading through the land, through Europe and causing people to stand +in consternation in the presence of death, which had taken them by +surprise. Life was not secure: who could tell that he would be alive +to-morrow! Vain were the plans of men: who could tell what the hour +would bring forth! And he lay thinking of this calmly, in the singular +peacefulness of his soul, in which he saw the futility of struggling +against life or against death.</p> + +<p>Not till next day did Barzia give him leave to get up, late in the +afternoon. After his shower-bath, he dressed calmly, in his lancer's +uniform, with crape round the sleeve. When he saw himself in the glass, +he was surprised at his resemblance to his mother, at seeing how he now +walked with the same mechanical step. Barzia allowed him to go to the +empress' sitting-room. He there found her, the emperor, Thera and the +Archduke and Archduchess of Carinthia, who had arrived at Lipara the +evening before. They sat close together, now and then softly exchanging +a word.</p> + +<p>Othomar went up to the emperor and would have embraced him; Oscar, +however, only pressed his hand. After that Othomar embraced his sisters +and his brother-in-law. Then he sank down by the empress, took her hand +in his and sat still. She looked attenuated and white as chalk in her +black gown. She did not weep: only the two princesses sobbed, +persistently, again and again.</p> + +<p>The family dined alone in the small dining-room, unattended by any of +the suite. A depression had descended upon the palace, which seemed +wholly silent at this hour, with but now and then the soft footsteps +through the galleries of an aide-de-camp carrying a funeral-wreath, or a +flunkey bringing a tray full of telegrams. After the short dinner, the +family retired once more to the empress' drawing-room. The hours dragged +on. Night had fallen. Then the Archbishop of Lipara was announced.</p> + +<p>The imperial family rose; they went through the galleries, unattended, +to the great knights' hall. Halberdiers stood at the door, in mourning. +They entered. The emperor gave his hand to the empress and led her to +the throne, whose crown and draperies were covered with crape. On either +side were seats for Othomar, the princesses, the archduke.</p> + +<p>In the middle of the hall, in front of the throne, rose the catafalque, +under a canopy of black and ermine. On it lay the little prince in +uniform. Over his feet hung a small blue knight's mantle with a great +white cross; a boy's sword lay on his breast; and his little hands were +folded over the jewelled hilt. By his little head, somewhat higher up, +shone, on a cushion, a small marquis' coronet. Six gilt candelabra with +many tall candles shone peacefully down upon the lad's corpse and left +the great hall still deeper in shadow: only, outside, the moon rose in +the distant blue, nocturnal sky; here and there it tinged with a white +glamour the trophies and suits of armour that hung or stood like iron +spectres in niches and against the walls. At the foot of the catafalque, +on a table like an altar, with a white velvet cloth, a great gilt +crucifix spread out its two arms, between two candelabra, in +commiseration.</p> + +<p>With drawn swords, motionless as the armour on the walls, stood four +blue-mantled knights of St. Ladislas, two at either side of the +catafalque.</p> + +<p>A soft scent of flowers was wafted through the hall. All round the +catafalque wreaths of every kind of white blossom were stacked in great +heaps; the fragrance of violets outscented all the others.</p> + +<p>They sat down: the emperor, the empress and their four children. Slowly +the archbishop entered with his priests and choir-boys. Then the +imperial party knelt on cushions placed before their seats. The prelate +read the prayers for the dead; and the chanted <i>Kyrie Eleison</i> and +<i>Agnus Dei</i> besought mercy for Berengar's little soul amongst the souls +in purgatory, quivered softly through the vast hall, were wafted with +the scent of the flowers over the motionless, sleeping face of the +imperial child....</p> + +<p>The rite came to an end; the prelate sprinkled the holy water, went +sprinkling around the catafalque. The princes left the hall, but Othomar +stayed on:</p> + +<p>"I want to lay my wreath," he whispered to the empress.</p> + +<p>The priests also departed, slowly; the crown-prince expressed to the +four knights, who were waiting to be relieved by others, his wish to be +left alone for a moment. They too withdrew. Then he saw Thesbia appear +at the door, with a large white wreath in his hand. He went to the +aide-de-camp and took the wreath from him.</p> + +<p>Othomar remained alone. The hall stretched long and broad, with darkness +at either end. The moon had risen higher, seemed whiter, cast a ghostly +glamour over the suits of armour. In the centre, as though in sanctity, +between the pious light of the tall candles, rose the catafalque, lay +the prince.</p> + +<p>The crown-prince mounted two steps of the catafalque and placed his +wreath. Then he looked at Berengar's face: no fever distorted it now; it +lay peaceful-pale, as though sleeping. All sounds had died away in the +hall; a deadly silence reigned. Here the world of sorrow which had +filled the palace and the country seemed to have become sanctified in an +ecstasy of calm. And Othomar saw himself alone with his soul. The +uncertainty of life, the vanity of human intentions were again revealed +to him, but more clearly; they were no longer black mystery, they became +harmony. It was as though he saw the whole harmony of the past: in all +Liparia's historic past, in the whole past of the world there sounded +not one false note. All sorrow was sacred and harmonious, tending more +closely to the lofty end, which would be in its turn a beginning and +never anything but harmony. Resignation descended upon his mood like a +spirit of holiness; his strange calmness became resignation. It was as +though his nerves were relaxed in one great assuagement.</p> + +<p>And his resignation contained only the sadness that never again would he +hear the high-pitched little commanding voice of the boy whom he had +loved, that this little life had run its course, so soon and for ever. +His resignation contained only the surprise that all this was ordered +thus and not as he had imagined it. He himself would have to wear the +crown which he had wished to relinquish to Berengar. And it now seemed +to him as though he himself were receiving it back from the dead boy's +hands. This no doubt was why he felt no touch of rebellion in his soul, +why he felt this peace, this sense of harmony. His gift was returning to +him as a legacy.</p> + +<p>Long he stood thus, thinking, staring at his motionless little brother; +and his thoughts became simplified within him: he saw lying straight +before him the road which he should follow....</p> + +<p>Then he heard his name:</p> + +<p>"Othomar..."</p> + +<p>He looked up and saw the empress at the door. She approached:</p> + +<p>"Barzia was asking where you were," she whispered. "He was uneasy about +you...."</p> + +<p>He smiled to her and shook his head to say no, that he was calm.</p> + +<p>She came close, climbed the steps of the catafalque and leant against +his arm:</p> + +<p>"How peaceful his little face is!" she murmured. "Oh, Othomar, I have +not yet given him my last kiss! And to-morrow he will no longer belong +to me: all those people will then be filing past."</p> + +<p>"But now, mamma, he still belongs to us ... to you...."</p> + +<p>"Othomar ..."</p> + +<p>"Mamma ..."</p> + +<p>"Shall I not have ... to lose you also?"</p> + +<p>"No, mamma, not me.... I shall go on living ... for you...."</p> + +<p>He embraced her; she looked up at him, surprised at his voice. Then she +looked again at her dead child. She released herself from her son's +arms, raised herself still higher, bent over the little white face and +kissed the forehead. But, when the stony coldness of the dead flesh met +her lips, she drew back and stared stupidly at the corpse, as though she +understood for the first time. Her arms grew stiff with cramp; she wrung +her fingers; she fell straight back upon Othomar.</p> + +<p>And her eyes became moist with the first tears that she had shed for +Berengar's death and she hid her head in Othomar's arms and sobbed and +sobbed....</p> + +<p>Then he led her carefully, slowly, down the steps of the catafalque, led +her out of the hall. In the corridor they came across Barzia; the +prince's calm and quiet face, as he supported his mother, eased the +professor's mind....</p> + +<p>So soon as the empress and crown-prince had left the knights' hall, four +knights of St. Ladislas entered in their blue robes. They took up their +positions on either side of the catafalque and stood motionless in the +candle-light, staring before them, watching in the night of mourning +over the little imperial corpse, on which the blue light of the moon now +descended.... The priests too entered and prayed....</p> + +<p>The palace was silent. When Othomar had consigned his mother, at the +door of her apartments, to the care of Hélène of Thesbia, he went +through the galleries to his own rooms. But, on turning a corridor, he +started. The great state-staircase yawned, faintly lighted, at his feet, +with beneath it the hollow space of the colossal entrance-hall. +Upholsterers were occupied in draping the banisters of the staircase +with crape gauze, for the time when the coffin should be carried +downstairs. With wide arms they measured out the mists of black, threw +black cloud upon cloud; the clouds of crape heaped themselves up with a +dreary flimsiness, up and up and up, seeming to fill the whole staircase +and to rise stair upon stair as though about to conquer the whole palace +with their gloom....</p> + +<p>The upholsterers did not see the crown-prince and worked on, silently, +in the faint light. But a cold thrill passed through Othomar. In deathly +pallor he stared at the men there, at his feet, measuring out the crape +and sending clouds of it up to him. He recalled his dream: the streets +of Lipara overflowing with crape till the very sun reeled.... His blood +seemed to freeze in his veins....</p> + +<p>Then he made the sign of the Cross:</p> + +<p>"O God, give me strength!" he prayed in consternation....</p> + + + +<h3>8</h3> + +<p>Next day, through the guard of honour of the grenadiers, the people +filed past the little prince's body. The following morning, it was +removed to Altara and interred in the imperial vault in St. Ladislas' +Cathedral. Princes Gunther and Herman of Gothland had come over for the +ceremony, but the Duke of Xara was forbidden by Professor Barzia to take +part in it: he remained at Lipara.</p> + +<p>The Gothlandic princes and their suite returned with the Emperor Oscar +to the capital, where, at her sister's pressing request, Queen Olga had +also come, with Princess Wanda. And, in the mourning stillness of the +Imperial, the family drew together in a narrow circle of intimacy. After +her first tears, the Empress Elizabeth had lost her unnatural calm and +constantly gave way to violent fits of sorrow, which Queen Olga or +Othomar had difficulty in allaying. The emperor was inconsolable, +indulging his grief with childish vehemence. Nobody had ever seen him +like that before, nobody recognized him. The fact that he had lost his +favourite child aroused his soul to rebellion against God. In addition +to this, he had very much taken to heart his last conversation with +Othomar, in which the prince had spoken to him of abdicating. The +emperor had not returned to the subject, but it was never out of his +thoughts. He feared that he would have to discuss it with Othomar again. +He was furious when he felt how powerless he was to prevent the +crown-prince from taking this desperate resolution. And he pictured the +legal results if the prince maintained his purpose: the Archduchess of +Carinthia empress, the archduke prince-consort and the house of +Czyrkiski no longer reigning in the male line on the throne of Liparia. +The possibility of this contingency, taken in conjunction with his +sorrow at Berengar's death, made the Emperor Oscar suffer with that very +special suffering of a monarch in whose veins still flows all the +hereditary attachment to the greatness of his ancestors and who hopes to +see this endure for all time. And he was also inconsolable for the loss +of the child whom he loved best, more profoundly but also more silently, +in greater secrecy, since he did not speak of it; and this probably made +him feel more bitterly the thought of the future which he saw imaged +before him. He had not even mentioned it to the empress, because of a +certain superstitious dread.</p> + +<p>And with this mental sorrow—that his robust soul, which had always +retained a touch of childishness, was allowing itself to feel weak, as +though it were the soul of any other mortal instead of his, a +monarch's—there was mingled his substantial annoyance about the army +bill. There would be three hundred millions needed: one hundred millions +had already been voted for the increase of the infantry; the other two +hundred, for the artillery, Count Marcella, the minister for war, had +not yet succeeded in obtaining. The majority of the army committee was +against this colossal arming of the frontier-forts; the minister already +expected a violent opposition in the house of deputies and was fully +prepared for his fall. None of the three—Oscar, Myxila or Marcella—was +willing to make the least compromise. And Oscar moreover was prepared to +support his minister to the point of impossibility.</p> + +<p>It was at this time that Othomar made General Ducardi teach him the +question, thoroughly, that he studied the staff-charts and military +statistics and reports of the committee, that he followed the +parliamentary discussions from out of his solitude. He held long +deliberations with the general. He had, however, not for months attended +the morning conferences in his father's room. But one morning he dressed +himself—as was now no longer his regular habit—in uniform and sent a +chamberlain to ask Oscar whether the emperor would permit him to be +present at Count Marcella's audience. The emperor shrugged his shoulders +in surprise, but combated his antipathy and sent word to his son that he +might come. So soon as the minister and the imperial chancellor were +with the emperor, Othomar joined them. He had grown still more slender +and the silver frogs of his lancer's uniform barely sufficed to lend a +slight breadth to his slimness; he was pale and a little sunken in the +cheeks; but the glance of his eyes had lost its former feverish +restlessness and recovered its melancholy calm, together with a certain +stiffness and haughtiness. He refrained at first from taking part in the +discussion, let the emperor curse, the chancellor shrug his shoulders +and rely on the impossible, the minister declared that he would never +give in. Then, however, he asked Oscar for leave to interpose a word. He +took a pencil; with a few short, decided lines of demonstration on the +maps, with a few simple, accurate indications on the registers, with a +few figures which he quoted, correctly, by heart, he showed that he was +quite conversant with the subject. He expressed the opinion that, in so +far as he could gather from the reports of the committee, from the mood +of the house of deputies, it remained an undoubted fact that the two +hundred millions would be refused ... and that the minister would fall. +He repeated these last words with emphasis and then looked firmly first +at his father and then at Count Marcella. Then, in his soft voice, which +rose and fell in logical tones, with serene words of conviction, he +asked why they should not submit to circumstances and make the best of +them. Why not accept the one hundred millions for the infantry as so +much gained and—for this after all would be possible without immediate +danger—endeavour to distribute the other two hundred over a period of +four or five years. He felt certain that an increase of twenty millions +or so a year would not meet with such violent opposition. By this +arrangement Count Marcella would be able to maintain himself in office +and to be supported by the emperor....</p> + +<p>When he had ceased, his words were succeeded by a pause. His advice, if +not distinguished by genius, was at least practical and made the most of +this critical situation. Count Myxila slowly nodded his head in +approval. The emperor and Count Marcella could not at once adhere to +Othomar's idea and were obstinate, as though they still hoped to force +the army bill through, unchanged as conceived at first. But the +chancellor took the same view as the crown-prince, proved still more +clearly that an arrangement of this sort would be the only one by which +his majesty would be able to retain Count Marcella's services. And the +end of the matter was that the Duke of Xara's proposal should be taken +into consideration.</p> + +<p>When Myxila and Marcella had gone, the emperor asked the prince to wait +a moment longer:</p> + +<p>"Othomar," he said, "it gives me great pleasure to see you once more +occupying yourself with the affairs of our country...."</p> + +<p>He hesitated an instant, almost anxiously:</p> + +<p>"What conclusion may I draw from this ... for the future?" he continued +at last, slowly.</p> + +<p>The crown-prince understood him:</p> + +<p>"Papa," he said, gently, "I have had my moments of discouragement. I +shall perhaps have them again. But forget ... what we were discussing +just before Berengar's death. I have given up all thought of +abdicating...."</p> + +<p>The emperor drew a deep breath.</p> + +<p>"I am religious, papa, and I have faith," continued the prince. "Perhaps +an almost superstitious faith. I plainly see, in what has happened, the +hand of God...."</p> + +<p>He passed his hand over his forehead, with a meditative gaze:</p> + +<p>"The hand of God," he repeated. "I had a presentiment that one of us +would die within this year. I thought that I myself should be the one to +die. That is perhaps why, papa, I did not see how monstrous it was of me +to take the resolution which I did. I was not thinking of myself, who +was bound to die in any event; I thought only of Berengar. But now he is +dead and I am alive; and I shall now think of myself. For I feel that I +do not belong to myself. And I feel that it is this that should support +us through life: this feeling that we do belong not to ourselves but to +others. I have always loved our people and I have wished to help them +vaguely, in the abstract; I threw out my hands, without knowing why, and +when I did not make good, it drove me to despair...."</p> + +<p>He suddenly stopped and looked timidly at his father, as though he had +gone too far in delivering his thoughts. But Oscar sat calmly listening +to him; and he continued:</p> + +<p>"And I now know that this despair is not right, because with this +despair we keep ourselves for ourselves and cannot give ourselves to +others. You see—" he rose and smiled—"I cannot manage to cure myself +of my philosophy, but I hope now that it will tend to strengthen me +instead of enervating me, as it now flows from quite a different +principle."</p> + +<p>The emperor gave a little shrug of the shoulders:</p> + +<p>"Every one must work out his own theory of life, Othomar. I can only +give you this advice: do not be carried away by enthusiasm and keep your +point of view high. Do not analyse yourself out of all existence, for +such abnegation does not last and inevitably harks back to the old +rights. I do not reflect so much as you do; I am more spontaneous and +impulsive. But I will not condemn you for being different: you can't +help it. Perhaps you belong to this age more than I do. I only wish to +look at the result of your reflections; and this result is that you're +giving yourself back to ordinary life and to the interests of your +country. And this rejoices me, Othomar. Nor do I wish to look too far +into the future; I dare say that later too you will not have my ideas, I +dare say that later you will reign with a brand-new constitution, with +an elected upper house. I expect you will encounter much opposition from +the authoritative party among the nobles.... But, as I say, I do not +wish to go into that too far and I am content to rejoice at your moral +convalescence. And I am very grateful to you for the advice you gave us +just now. It was quite simple, but we should never have thought of it by +ourselves. We are too conservative for that. I think now that what you +propose will be the best thing to be done and that it can't be done +otherwise...."</p> + +<p>He held out his hand; Othomar grasped it.</p> + +<p>"And," he continued with the great magnanimity which, for all his +despotic haughtiness, lay at the very root of his soul, "do not bear any +malice because of ... of the words I used to you, Othomar. I am violent +and passionate, as you know. I was fonder of Berengar than of you. But +you yourself loved the boy. Bear me no malice, for his sake.... You are +my son too and I love you, if only because of the fact that you are my +son and the last of my race.... Forgive my candour."</p> + +<p>Then he pressed Othomar in his arms. It struck him painfully to feel the +frailty of the prince in his firm embrace, so immediately upon his +words: "the last of my race...." A strange, bitter despair shot through +his soul; yet he clearly divined the mystery of this frailty: an unknown +moral spring, which he himself lacked, in the direct simplicity of his +nature, but which, to his great surprise, he felt in his son. When the +prince was gone and Oscar, left alone, thought of this and sought that +spring in what he knew of his son, he did not find it, yet felt that, +whatever it might be, it was something to be envied, a strength tougher +than muscular strength. He looked about him; his eyes fell upon a +portrait of the empress on his writing-table. How often had he not +stared at it in irritation because of their successor, who was so wholly +her son! But, as though a gleam of light passed before his eyes, he now +looked at the delicate features without the old annoyance; and a +grateful warmth began to glow within him. Whatever it were, Othomar had +derived this mysterious strength from his mother. It saved him and +spared him for his country, for his race. And—who knew?—perhaps this +mystery was just the element which their race needed, a necessary +constituent of its new lease of life.... He did not seek to penetrate +any farther; the future—even though it was now emerging more clearly +out of its first dimness—had no attraction for him. He loved the past, +those iron centuries with their heroes of emperors. But he felt that +everything was not lost. In his pious belief in the Almighty, he +thought, as did his son, of the hand of God. If it must be so, it was +right. God's will was inscrutable.</p> + +<p>And grateful to the empress, grateful for the light that shone before +him, he bent his knees to the crucifix on the wall and prayed for his +two sons. He prayed long for the son who was to bear his crown, but +longer for the soul of the child of his own blood, whose loss would be +the grief that would always be as wormwood in the depths of his soul, +which was now outpoured in gratitude....</p> + + + +<h3>9</h3> + +<p><i>From the Diary of Alexa Duchess of Yemena, Countess of Vaza.</i></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 22em;">"—<i>November</i>, 18—.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"The crown-prince has not come with the emperor. Professor Barzia +forbade it, because he considered that the big hunting-parties with +which the emperor wishes to divert his thoughts from his grief for our +little prince would be too fatiguing for my sweet invalid. Still, I hear +from Dutri that he is making distinct progress and has already resumed +his daily morning rides.</p> + +<p>"It is all over with me. Poor sinful heart within me, die! For, after +this last flower of passion that blossomed in you, I wish you to die to +the world. For the sake of the purity of my imperial flower, I wish you +now to die. Nothing after this, nothing but the new life which I see +lifting before me....</p> + +<p>"And yet I am still young; I look no older in my glass than I did a year +ago. I have no need to abdicate my feminine powers unless I wish to. And +that is how every one looks at it, for I know that they whisper of the +Duke of Mena-Doni, as though he would be happy to replace my adored +crown-prince in my affections. But it's not true, it's not true. And I'm +so glad of it, that they do not realize me and do not know anything, +that they do not understand that I want to let my imperial love fade +away in purity and wish to cherish no earthly love after it.</p> + +<p>"Dear love of my heart, you have raised me to my new life! You were +still a sin, but yet you purified me, because you yourself were purified +by the contact of that sacred something which is in majesty. Oh, you +were the last sin, but already you were purer than the one before! For I +have been a great sinner: I have immolated up all my sinful woman's life +to consuming passion; and it has left nothing but ashes in my heart! +Great scorching love of my life for him who is now dead—may his soul +rest in peace!—I will not deny you, because you have been my most +intense earthly pleasure, because through you I first learnt to know +that I possessed a soul and because you thus brought me nearer to what I +now see before me; but yet, what were you but earthliness? And my +chaster imperial love, what were you too but earthliness? Gentle +sovereign of my soul, what will God have you be but earthly? An empire +awaits you, a crown, a sceptre, an empress. God wills it and therefore +it is good, that you are earthly, while your earthliness is at the same +time consecrated by your pious faith. But I, I have been less than +merely earthly: I was sinful. And now I wish that my heart should wholly +die within me, because it is nothing than sin. Then shall my heart be +born again, in new life....</p> + +<p>"I have prayed. For hours I lay on the cold marble in the chapel, till +my knees pained me and my limbs were stiff. I have confessed my sinful +life to my sainted confessor, his lordship of Vaza. Oh, the sweetness of +absolution and the ecstasy of prayer! Why do we not earlier feel the +blessed consolation that lies in the performance of our religious +duties! Oh, if I could lose myself utterly in that sweet mystery, in +God; if I could go into a convent! But I have my two stepdaughters. I +must bring them into society; it is my duty. And the bishop thinks that +that is my penance and my punishment: never to be able to withdraw into +a hallowed seclusion, but to continue breathing the sinful atmosphere of +the world.</p> + +<p>"I will give my castle in Lycilia, where we never go—my own castle and +estate—to our Holy Church for a convent for Ursulines of gentle birth. +I went there with the bishop the other day. Oh, the great gloomy rooms, +the shadowy frescoes, the sombre park! And the chapel, when the new +windows are added, through which the light will fall in a mystic medley +of colour! My dearest wish is to be allowed to grow old there, and to +die far away from the world: but shall I ever be permitted? Holy Mother +of God, shall I ever be permitted?</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Am I sincere? Who knows? What do I myself know? Do I truly feel this +purification of my soul, or do I remain the woman I am? A dreadful doubt +rises in me; it is Satan entering into me! I will pray: Blessed Virgin, +pray for me!</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"I have become calmer; prayer has strengthened me. Oh, full of anguish +are the doubts which tear me from my conviction! Then Satan says that I +am deluding myself into this conviction, to console myself in my +destitution, and that I have become religious for want of occupation. At +such times I see myself in the glass, young, a young woman. But, when I +pray, the doubts retire from my sinful mood and I look back shuddering +upon my wicked past. And then the new life of my future once more shines +up before me....</p> + +<p>"Beloved prince, sovereign of my soul, here in these pages which none +shall ever read I take leave of you, because it was not vouchsafed me to +bid you farewell at a moment of tangible reality. Oh, I shall often, +perhaps from day to day, still see you in the crush of the world, in the +ceremonial of palaces; but you will never again belong to me and so I +take leave of you! Whatever I may be—a twofold sinner perhaps, longing +only for Heaven because the earth has lost its charm for me—I have been +true to you, as I always have been, in love. I have seen you bowed down, +you so frail, beneath your heavy yoke of empire; and I have felt my +heart brimming over with pity for you. I have tried to give you my poor +sinful consolation as best I could. May Heaven forgive me! I met you at +a moment when the tears were flowing from your dear eyes with bitterness +because people hated you and had dared with sacrilegious hands to strike +at your imperial body; and I tried to give you what I could of +sweetness, so as to make you forget that bitterness. Ah, perhaps I was +even then not quite sincere; perhaps I am even not so now! But that +would be too terrible; that would make me despise myself as I cannot do! +And I will at least retain this illusion, that I was sincere, that I did +wish to comfort you, that, sinful though it was, I did comfort you, that +I did, in very truth, love you, that I still love you now, that I shall +no longer love you—because I must not—as your mistress, but that I +shall do so as your subject. The blood in my veins loves yours, your +golden blood! And, when I myself have found peace and no longer doubt +and hesitate, my last days shall be spent only in prayer for you, that +you also may receive peace and strength for your coming task of +government. I feel no jealousy of her who will be my future empress. I +know that she is beautiful and that she is younger than I. But I do not +compare myself with her. I shall be her subject as I am yours. For I +love you for yourself and I love everything that will be yours. You are +my emperor; you are already my emperor, more than Oscar! Farewell, my +prince, my crown-prince, my emperor! When I see you again, you will be +nothing more to me than my emperor and my emperor alone!</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"To HIS IMPERIAL HIGHNESS THE DUKE OF XARA,</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;">"LIPARA.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 14em;">"CASTEL VAZA,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 10.5em;">"—<i>November</i>, 18—.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"MY BELOVED PRINCE,</p> + +<p>"Pardon me if I venture to send you the accompanying pages. I meant at +first to send you a long letter, a letter of farewell. And I did write +you many, but did not send them to you and destroyed them. Then I wrote +to you only for myself, took leave of you for myself. But can I trace +what goes on within me, what I think from one moment to the other? I did +miss it so: my sweet farewell, which would still bind me in some +intimate way to you! And so I could not refrain—at last, after much +vacillation of mind—from sending you these pages, which I had written +only for myself. At your feet I implore you graciously to accept them, +graciously to read them. Then destroy them. Through them you will learn +the last thoughts that I have dared to consecrate to the mystery that +was our love....</p> + +<p>"I press my lips to your adored hands.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 30.5em;">"ALEXA."</span><br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + + + +<h3>1</h3> + +<p>The Empress Elizabeth rode with Hélène of Thesbia in a victoria, +preceded by an outrider, from St. Ladislas to the Old Palace, which, +together with the cathedral and the Episcopal, formed one gigantic +building. Here, at Altara, the Archduke Albrecht and the Archduchess +Eudoxie, with the imperial bride, had taken up their abode on the +previous day. From the tall fortress—a broad mass of granite with +crenulated plateaus and squat towers, overlooking Altara—the road +wandered downwards, indistinguishable beneath the old chestnut-trees, in +tortuous zig-zags. The dust flew up under the wheels; on both sides lay +villas, with terraces gay with vases and flowers and statues, sloping +lower and lower towards the town. The villas blazed with bunting; the +blue-and-white flags with the white crosses revelled in all their gaudy +newness among the dusty foliage of the old trees and acacias.</p> + +<p>It was June, six months after the death of the little prince; but the +mourning had been lightened because of the approaching nuptials of the +Duke of Xara, which the emperor wished to see celebrated as early as +possible. The empress, however, still wore heavy mourning, which she +would not lay aside before the day of the wedding; Hélène was in grey; +the liveries were grey.</p> + +<p>Many pedestrians, horsemen, carriages passed along the road and stopped +respectfully; the empress bowed to left and right; she received cheers +and salutations from the balconies of the villas. In this warm summer +weather a mellow welcome, a soft gaiety reigned all along the road; the +road, with its villas where the people sat in groups, emitted a +friendliness which affected the empress pleasantly and made her heart +swell in her breast with a gentle melancholy. Children ran about and +played in white summer suits; they stopped suddenly and, like well-bred +children, accustomed to seeing members of the imperial family pass +daily, they bowed low, the boys awkwardly, the girls with new-learnt +curtseys. Then they went on playing again.... And the empress smiled at +a large family, old and young people together, who sat on a terrace, +doubtless celebrating a birthday, and laughed and drank, with many +glasses and decanters before them, the children with their mouths full +of cake. So soon as they saw the outrider, they all stood up and waved, +some with their glasses still in their hands, and the empress, laying +aside her usual stiffness, bowed back with a winning smile.</p> + +<p>And it was as though she were driving through a huge, luxurious village; +for a moment she forgot the light obsession that depressed her, forgot +why she was this day going to Valérie and allowed herself to be lulled +by her delight in the love that she divined all round her. It was the +love of the old Liparian patrician families—noble or not noble—for +their sovereigns. It was a caress which she never felt at Lipara. And +she remembered Othomar's letter, at the time of last year's inundations:</p> + +<p>"Why are we not oftener at Altara?"</p> + +<p>She could not for a moment desist from bowing. But she was now +approaching the town: the old houses shifted like the wings at a +theatre; the whole town shifted nearer, gay with flags, which threw an +air of youth over its old stonework. The streets were full: thousands of +visitors, native and foreign, were at Altara; there was not a room to be +had in the hotels. And the empress could scarcely speak a word to +Hélène; she could do nothing but bow and bow, perpetually....</p> + +<p>In the fore-court of the Old Palace, the infantry composing the guard of +honour of the Austrian bride were drawn up and presented arms as the +empress drove in. The Archduchess Eudoxie was awaiting the empress.</p> + +<p>"How is Valérie?" Elizabeth at once asked.</p> + +<p>"Better, calmer," replied the archduchess. "Much better than I dared +hope. But she will receive no one...."</p> + +<p>"Do send to ask whether I can see her...."</p> + +<p>The archduchess' lady-in-waiting left the room: she returned with the +message that her imperial highness was expecting the empress.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth found Valérie lying on a sofa, wearing a white lace tea-gown, +looking very pale, with great, dark, dull eyes; she rose, however:</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, ma'am," she said, in apology.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth embraced her with great tenderness; the archduchess added:</p> + +<p>"I was not well, I felt so tired...."</p> + +<p>But then her eyes met Elizabeth's and she saw that the empress did not +expect her to exhibit superhuman endurance. She nestled up against her +and cried softly, as one cries who has already wept long and +passionately and is now exhausted with weeping and has not the strength +to weep except very, very softly. The empress made her sit down, sat +down beside her and caressed her with a soothing movement of her hand. +Neither of the two spoke; neither of the two found words in the +difficult relation which at that moment they bore one to the other.</p> + +<p>Two days ago, the day before that fixed for the bride's journey to +Altara, the news had arrived that Prince von Lohe-Obkowitz had shot +himself in Paris. The actual reason of this suicide was not known. Some +thought that the prince had taken much to heart the disfavour of the +Emperor of Austria and the quarrel with his own family; others that he +had lost a fortune at baccarat and that his ruin was completed by the +bohemian extravagance of his wife, the notorious Estelle Desvaux, who +herself had been ruined more than once in her life, but had always +retrieved her position by means of a theatrical tour and the sale of a +few diamonds. Others again maintained that Prince Lohe had never been +able to forget his love for the future Duchess of Xara. But, whatever +might be suggested in Viennese court-circles, nothing was known for +certain. Valérie had by accident read the report, which they had tried +to conceal from her, in the same newspaper in which, now almost a year +ago, she had, also by accident, on the terrace at Altseeborgen, read the +news of Prince Lohe's proposed marriage and surrender of his rights. Her +soul, which had no tendency to mysticism, nevertheless, in the shock of +despair that now passed through it, became almost superstitious because +of this repetition of cruelty. But when, months ago, she had combated +and worn out her sorrow, it had been followed by an indifference to any +further suffering that she might yet have to experience in life. The +death of her illusions was a final death; after her betrothal she had as +it were found herself with a new soul, hardened and girt about with +indifference. It was strange that in this indifference the only thing to +which she continued sensible was that exquisiteness in Othomar's +character: his delicacy in sparing her at Altseeborgen, against Oscar's +desire; his wide feeling of universal love for his people; all his +gentle nature and simple sense of duty.... But, however indifferent she +might generally think herself to be, this second incident struck her +cruelly, as though a refinement of fate had chosen the moment for it. +The official journey from Sigismundingen to Altara had been a martyrdom. +Valérie had endured like an automaton the receptions on the frontiers, +the welcome at the Central Station at Altara, with the greeting of her +imperial bridegroom, who had there kissed her, and the addresses of the +authorities, the offering of bread and salt by the canons of the chapter +of St. Ladislas. She had swallowed it, their bread and salt. And then +the drive through the town, gay with bunting and with triumphal arches +erected from street to street, to the Old Palace, in the open landau +with the emperor and her bridegroom, amid the cheering of the populace +which cut her ears and her overexcited nerves as though with sharp-edged +knives! Then, at the palace, it had struck Othomar how like a hunted +fawn she looked, with her frightened eyes. Prince Lohe's death was known +at Altara; and, though the people had cheered, cheered from true +affection for the future crown-princess, they had stared at her because +of that tragedy, curious and eager to see an august anguish shuddering +in the midst of their festivities, hunted through arches of green and +bunting. They had seen nothing. Valérie had bowed, smiled, waved her +hand to them from the balcony of the Old Palace, standing by Othomar's +side! They had seen nothing, nothing, for all their tense expectation. +But then Valérie's strength had come to an end. Her part was played: let +the curtain fall. Othomar left her alone, with a pressure of the hand. +For hours she sat lifelessly; then night came; she could not sleep, but +she was able to sob.</p> + +<p>Now it was next day; she was lying down exhausted, but really she had +shed her last tear, fought her last fight, recovered her indifference: +no sorrows that were still in store for her could ever hurt her now!</p> + +<p>Yet the fond embrace of Othomar's mother softened her; and she again +found her tears.</p> + +<p>They exchanged barely a few words and yet they felt a mutual sympathy +passing between them. And through the midst of her sorrow Valérie could +see her duty, which would at the same time be her strength: no bitter +indifference, but an acquiescence in what her life might be. Oh, she had +imagined it differently in her dreams as a young girl: she had pictured +it to herself as more agreeable and smiling and as finding its +expression more naturally, more spontaneously and without so much +calculation! But she had awakened from her dreams; and where else should +she seek her strength but in her duty?... And she conquered herself, +whatever might be destroyed in her soul, by an unsuspected vitality—her +real nature—even more than by her thoughts. She dried her eyes, +mentioned that it was near the time when a deputation of young Liparian +ladies was to come and offer her a wedding-present; and the empress left +her alone, that she might dress.</p> + +<p>She appeared presently, in a white costume embroidered with dull gold, +in the drawing-room where her parents sat with the empress and with +Hélène of Thesbia and the Austrian ladies-in-waiting. Shortly after, +Othomar came too, with his sisters and the Archduke of Carinthia. And, +when the deputation of young ladies of rank was announced and appeared, +with Eleonore of Yemena in its midst, Valérie listened with her usual +smile to the address recited by the little marchioness, with a gracious +gesture accepted from the hands of two other girls the great case which +they caused to fly open, showing, upon light velvet, a triple necklace +of great pearls. And she was able to find a few pretty phrases of +thanks: she uttered them in a clear voice; and no one who heard her +would have suspected that she had passed a sleepless night, bathed in +tears, with before her eyes the lifeless body of a young man with +shattered temples.</p> + +<p>The young ladies of the deputation were permitted to see the +wedding-presents, which were displayed in a large room; Princess Thera +and the ladies-in-waiting accompanied them. There, in that room, it was +like a sudden gleam of brilliancy, flashing in the daylight from the +long tables on which the presents stood surrounded by flowers: the +heavily-gilt candelabra, gilt and crystal table- and tea-services, gilt +and silver caskets from various towns, an Altara Cathedral in silver, +silver ships with delicate, swelling sails from naval institutions and +jewelled gifts from all the royal friends and relations in Europe. On a +satin cushion lay, like a fairy trinket, a sparkling duchess' diadem of +big sapphires and brilliants, one of the presents of the bride's future +parents-in-law. And very striking was Princess Thera's present: the Duke +of Xara's portrait, a work of art that had already been seen at +exhibitions in both capitals. But it had little likeness to the original +left and was therefore the despair of the princess. It was younger, more +indecisive, feebler than the prince looked now: a little thinner than of +old, but with a fuller moustache and a lightly curling beard on his +cheeks. The melancholy eyes had acquired more of the Empress Elizabeth's +cold glance; in other respects too Othomar resembled his mother more +than before. But what was still noticeable in the young prince, in his +nervous refinement, was the look of race, his trenchant distinction, his +air of lawful haughtiness. He had lost much of his rigidity, his stiff +tactlessness, and had gained something more resolute and assured; and, +in spite of his colder look, this inspired more confidence in a +crown-prince than his always winning but somewhat feeble presence of +former days. The thoughts seemed to be more sharply outlined on his +features, the words to come more pointedly from between his lips; he +seemed to have more self-reliance, to care less for what others might +think of him. It was, although not yet quite consciously, that unique +princely feeling awakening within him: his simple, proud, innate +confidence in the single drop of golden blood which ran through his +veins and gave him his rights....</p> + +<p>It was Professor Barzia especially who, attached as he was to Othomar +and treating him personally every day, had aroused this self-confidence +with his words, which were prompted both by his knowledge of mankind and +by his love for the dynasty, as well as by a personal affection for the +crown-prince. The cold-water douches had braced the prince up, but the +suggestions of the professor, who had aroused Othomar's latent practical +qualities as it were from their subconscious hiding-place, had probably +been a still more efficacious remedy. The prince had learnt to govern +himself and had become dearer to the professor than ever....</p> + +<p>This devotion, born of a discovery of what others did not know to +exist—high qualities of temperament—was enhanced by Barzia's fostering +of those same qualities; and, when the prince's marriage could be fixed, +the professor looked with as much pride as affection upon his patient, +whom he declared to be physically cured and considered, in his own mind, +to be morally cured as well....</p> + + + +<h3>2</h3> + +<p>Two days later was the day of the imperial wedding. The town swarmed +from early morning with the people who had streamed in from the environs +and who noisily thronged the narrower streets. For already at an early +hour the main thoroughfares had been closed by the infantry, from the +fortress to the Old Palace and the cathedral. And Altara, usually grey, +old, weather-beaten, was unrecognizable, gaudy with flags, fresh with +festoons of greenery, decked with draperies and tapestries hanging from +its balconies. A warm, southern May sun shed patches of light over the +town; and the red and blue and white and green of the waiting uniforms, +with the even flash of the bayonets above them, drew broad lines of +colour through the city, with a gaiety almost floral, right up to the +Castle of St. Ladislas.</p> + +<p>Through the streets, closed to public traffic, court-carriages drove to +and fro, filled with glittering uniforms: royal guests who were being +carried to St. Ladislas or the Old Palace. There were Russian, German, +British, Austrian, Gothlandic uniforms; briskly, as though preparing for +the ceremonial moment, they flashed through Altara, through its long, +empty streets lined with soldiers.</p> + +<p>Beneath the chestnuts on the Castle Road the villas also teemed with +spectators, sitting or moving in the gardens and terraces; and, in the +sunbeams that filtered through the foliage of the trees, the ladies' +light summer costumes and coloured sun-shades cast variegated patches: +it was as though garden-parties were taking place from villa to villa, +while people waited for the procession of the bridegroom, who, in +accordance with Liparian etiquette, was to drive from St. Ladislas to +fetch his bride from the Old Palace.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Eleven o'clock. From the Fort of St. Ladislas booms the first gun; other +guns boom after it minute by minute. A buzz of excitement passes along +the whole of the Castle Road. On the almost imperceptible incline appear +trumpets and kettle-drums, preceding heralds on horseback. Behind them +come the slashing throne-guards, round the gilt and crystal +gala-carriages. The court chamberlain, the Count of Threma, in the +first; in the second, with the imperial crown and the plumed team of +eight greys caparisoned in scarlet—and the cheering from the villas +rises higher and higher—the emperor with the Duke of Xara by his side; +in the following coaches the assembled majesties and highnesses of +Europe: the Empress of Liparia, the German Emperor and Empress, the King +and Queen of Gothland, Russian grand-dukes, the Duke of Sparta and the +Prince of Naples.... The imperial chancellor, the ministers, the robed +members of the house of peers.... And the endless procession passes +slowly amid the roar of the cannon down the Castle Road, through the +main streets and into the heart of the city. There, in the Old Palace, +the bride is waiting with all her Austrian relations: the emperor and +empress, the Archduke Albrecht and the Archduchess Eudoxie....</p> + +<p>It is here that the marriage-treaty is signed, on the gilt table, +covered with gold brocade, upon which the emperors and empresses of +Liparia have written their signatures since centuries, upon which, after +the imperial bride and bridegroom, the august witnesses sign the +contract....</p> + +<p>Now the whole procession goes through gallery after gallery to the New +Sacristy. It is a ceremonious parade of some minutes' duration: the +trumpeters, the heralds, the masters of ceremonies; the blue-robed +knights of St. Ladislas: the white-and-gold throne-guards; the Emperor +Oscar with the Duke of Xara, the Emperor of Austria with the bride.... +Slowly she walks by her uncle's side, her head a little bent, as though +beneath the weight of her princess' coronet, from which the lace veil +floats, lightly shading her bare neck, which is studded with drops of +brilliants. Her gown is of stiff, heavy satin brocade, embroidered with +silver-thread in front and smothered in emblematic patterns of pearls; +great, white velvet puffed sleeves burgeon at her shoulders; the train +of silver brocade and white velvet is so long that six maids-of-honour +bear it after her, swaying from its silver loops. Behind the +maids-of-honour follow the bridesmaids, dressed all alike, carrying +similar bouquets: they are Princess Thera, Princess Wanda, German, +English and Austrian princesses. And the majesties and highnesses +follow; the procession flows into the New Sacristy; here the +cardinal-archbishop, Primate of Liparia, with all his mitred clergy, +receives the bridegroom and the bride....</p> + +<p>In the cathedral waits the crowd of invited guests. Despite the beams of +the summer sun, a mystic twilight of shadow hovers through the tall and +stately arches of the cathedral and the daylight blossoms only on the +motley windows of the side-chapels; in the vaultings it is even dark. +But the high altar is one blaze of innumerable candles....</p> + +<p>The imperial chancellor, the ministers, the ambassadors, the whole +diplomatic body, the members of both houses of parliament, the judges of +the high court have entered; they fill the tiers that have been erected +to right and left. And the whole cathedral is filled: one great swarm of +heavy, rustling silks—the low-necked dresses of the ladies, whose +jewels twinkle and flash—and one blaze of gold on the glittering +military and diplomatic uniforms, which like great sparks light up the +twilight of the cathedral.</p> + +<p>Then the trumpets sound, the organ peals its jubilant tones in the +solemn festival-march; the first procession enters through the sacristy: +the German Emperor with the Empress Elizabeth of Liparia, the +Archduchess Eudoxie and a long retinue.... Now the trumpets sound, the +organ peals unceasingly; and the invited majesties with their suites and +the representatives of the foreign powers enter in group after group. +The canopied spaces to right and left of the choir begin to fill up.</p> + +<p>Soon the second procession follows: the dignitaries in front, with the +insignia of state; the Emperor Oscar, leading the Duke of Xara: both +wear over their golden uniforms the long draped blue robes of St. +Ladislas, with the large white cross gleaming on the left arm; four +crown-princes follow as the bridegroom's four witnesses: the Duke of +Wendeholm, the Czarevitch, the Duke of Sparta and the Prince of Naples; +the knights of St. Ladislas, the officers of the throne-guards, +equerries and pages follow after....</p> + +<p>And suddenly a choir of high voices vibrates crystal-clear and proclaims +a blessing on the bride, who cometh in the name of the Lord.... The +third procession has entered the cathedral: the Emperor of Austria and +the Archduke Albrecht, leading the bride, with her maids of honour and +her bridesmaids; and she seems to be one white wealth of illustrious +maidenhood among her white and floral-fragrant retinue. And the anthem +scatters its notes as with handfuls of silver lilies before her feet; +her solemn advent arouses an emotion that quivers through all that whirl +of splendour, through the whole cathedral. Now, at last, appears the +fourth procession: the cardinal-archbishop, Primate of Liparia, with his +bishops and canons and chaplains; the high ecclesiastics take their +seats in the tall carved choir-stalls; the rite begins....</p> + +<p>The sun seems to have waited till this moment to come shooting down, +through the tall, party-coloured, pointed windows, in which the life of +St. Ladislas glitters with its small, square, gem-like pictures, +shooting down in a slanting sheaf of rays upon the choir, upon the +priests, upon the canopies under which the majesties are sitting, upon +the bride-groom and bride.... And all the colours—the old gold of the +altar, the new gold of the uniforms, the brocades, the +crown-jewels—flame up as though the sun were setting them ablaze: one +fire of changing sparks which, together with the numberless candles on +the altar, suddenly irradiates the church. The diadems of the princesses +are like crowns of flame, the orders of the princes like a firmament of +stars. The acolytes swing incense which is wafted misty blue, delicate, +transparent in the sunshine; the sunshine filters through the blonde +lace veil of the kneeling bride, lights a glowing fire over her +white-and-silver train, illuminates her as with an apotheosis of light +that reflects a maidenly pallor upon her. Her bridegroom kneels beside +her, wholly enfolded in his blue robe, with on his arm the sheen of the +white cross. Both now hold long tapers in their hands. And the primate, +with his jewelled mitre and his stiff gold dalmatic covered with +jewelled scrolls, raises his eyes, spreads his hands on high and +stretches them in benediction above the bent imperial heads....</p> + +<p>The chant swells high again: the <i>Te Deum laudamus</i>, as though the waves +of the voices were rising upon the waves of the organ, higher and +higher, up through the cathedral to the sky in one ecstasy of sacred +music. The old, granite, giant fabric seems to quiver with emotion, as +though the music became its soul, and sends forth over Altara from all +its bells a swelling sea of sound, bronze in the depths and molten out +of every metal into gold of crystal purity in the highest height of +audible sound....</p> + +<p>An hour later. On the closed Cathedral Square movement begins again, +among the waiting gala-carriages. Now the procession returns to St. +Ladislas, but behind the Emperor Oscar's carriage Othomar and Valérie +now ride together. And the city cheers and shouts its hurrahs; the +houses groan with the clamour among all the flags and trophies. The +guards present arms; and amid this festive uproar it passes unperceived +how yonder in the smaller streets fighting goes on, arrests are made, a +well-known anarchist is almost murdered by the imperialistic +populace....</p> + +<p>With its costly pageant, now heightened by the white presence of the +young Duchess of Xara and her own retinue, the endless and endless +procession returns, through the town, up the Castle Road; and there too +the villas now obtain a sight of Valérie and cheer and cheer and +cheer....</p> + +<p>It is in the white throne-room that Othomar and Valérie hold their +court; one and all defile before them: the ministers and ambassadors, +the members of both houses, of the courts of justice, corporations and +deputations. After the court, the breakfast, at which the table glitters +with the ceremonial gold and jewelled plate, used only at imperial +weddings. After the breakfast, the last observance: in the gold hall—a +vast low hall, Byzantine in architecture and decoration, ages old and +unchanged—the torch-dance; the procession of the ministers, who carry +long, lighted links in gilt handles, while Othomar and Valérie keep on +inviting the highnesses according to rank, invite all the highnesses in +turns and march round behind the ministers.... It is a monotonous +ceremony, continually repeated: the ministers with the torches, Othomar +with a princess and surrounded by the Knights of St. Ladislas, Valérie +with a prince and all her white suite; and it is a relief when the +function is finished and the newly-married couple have withdrawn to +change their dress. Then they appear: Othomar as commanding officer of +the Xara Cuirassiers, Valérie in her white cloth travelling-dress and +hat with white feathers; and they make their adieus. An open landau +awaits them; and with a compact escort of Xara Cuirassiers they drive +anew through the town, drive in every direction, showing themselves +everywhere, bowing to one and all, and at last drive out to the castle +where they will spend the first days of the honeymoon: Castle Zanthos, +quite near the town, on the broad river....</p> + +<p>And the old weather-beaten capital, which remains full of majesties, +which still flutters with pennants, which in the evening is one yellow +flame and red glow of fireworks and illumination, seems all the same, +without the newly-married couple, to have lost the attraction which +turned it into a centre of festivity and splendour and imperial +ceremony; and in the evening, despite the illuminations and fireworks +and gala-performances, the Central Station is besieged by thousands who +are leaving....</p> + + + +<h3>3</h3> + +<p>It was months after the wedding of the Duke of Xara that the Emperor +Oscar, entering his work-room very early in the morning and moving +towards his writing-table, caught sight of a piece of cardboard, with +large, black letters pasted on it, lying on the floor by the window. He +did not pick it up; though he was alone, he did not turn pale, but on +his low forehead the thick veins swelled with rage to feel that he was +not safe from their treason even in his own room. He rang and asked for +his valet, a trusted man:</p> + +<p>"Pick up that thing!" he commanded. And he roared, through the silence, +"How did it get here?"</p> + +<p>The valet turned pale. He read the threatening words of abuse, with +their big, fat letters, on the ground before stooping and taking the +card in his trembling hand.</p> + +<p>"How did it get here?" repeated the emperor, stamping his foot.</p> + +<p>The valet swore that he did not know. In the morning no one was allowed +to enter the room except himself; he had come half an hour ago to open +the windows and then had seen nothing:</p> + +<p>"The only explanation, sir, is that some one must have stolen into the +park and flung it through the window...."</p> + +<p>This doubtless was the only explanation, but it was an explanation that +irritated the emperor greatly. It was not the first time that the +emperor had found such notices in the intimacy of his writing-room. The +result was the sudden arrest of servants, of soldiers belonging to the +various guards in the Imperial; but arrests and enquiries had brought +nothing to light and therefore made an all the more painful impression. +The guards of the palaces, the guards at the gilt railings of the park, +where this merged into the Elizabeth Parks—the public gardens of the +capital—were already increased; the secret police, the emperor's own +police, even kept a sharp watch on the guards themselves.</p> + +<p>The Emperor Oscar looked fixedly at the valet; for a moment the thought +rose in him to have the man himself examined, but he at once realized +the absurdity of any such suspicion: the man had been his personal +servant for years and years, was entirely devoted to him and stood +answering Oscar's long stare with calm, respectful eyes, evidently +pondering the mystery of the strange riddle.</p> + +<p>"Burn that thing," commanded the emperor, "and don't talk about it."</p> + +<p>Subsequently Oscar had a long interview with the head of his secret +police, with whom he had lately had every reason to be satisfied: secret +printing-presses of anarchist papers, which were continually being +distributed, had been ferreted out; a plot to wreck the imperial train +on its way from Castel Xaveria, the summer-palace in Xara, to Lipara had +been frustrated; suspicion of being connected with anarchist committees +had fallen upon a clerk in one of the government-offices and even upon a +young officer and it was proved that the suspicion was correct in both +cases. Quite recently the police had discovered a workshop in which men +were taught how to manufacture dynamite-bombs and infernal machines. But +who the insolent miscreants were who succeeded in flinging their +threatening letters into the emperor's own room: this they had not been +able to discover. For a whole week the windows had been watched from the +park and all that time nothing had been seen; it was now a couple of +days since that secret watch had been given up. The head of the secret +police felt convinced that the culprits were lurking in the Imperial +itself and acquainted with the emperor's private habits. Sudden visits +were paid to the rooms of any servants at the Imperial of whom there was +the least doubt; and, when a groom was found to be in possession of an +anarchist leaflet containing words of insult directed against the +emperor, the man was banished to one of the convict sections of the +eastern quick-silver-mines. This banishment was the introduction to +numberless other banishments; they followed one another in quick +succession; the victims were soldiers, sailors, many minor provincial +officials: the press had even ceased to report all the banishments. The +censorship was rendered more severe; newspapers were continually being +suspended, their editors fined and imprisoned; the imperialist papers, +Count Myxila's organs, almost despotically indicated the required tone. +A socialist meeting was dispersed by hussars with drawn swords; serious +disturbances followed in the capital and infected the other large towns, +Thracyna, Xara, even Altara. A strike of dock-labourers filled Lipara +for weeks with rising insubordination; policemen were cruelly murdered +at the docks in broad daylight.</p> + +<p>The Duke of Mena-Doni was the Emperor Oscar's right hand during this +period; and his rough displays of force kept the capital so far in +subjection that no riot burst out, that the everyday life of sunny, +laughing luxury went on, that the elegant carriages continued every +afternoon at five o'clock to stream to the Elizabeth Parks, where the +Empress or the Duchess of Xara still showed themselves daily for a +moment. But thousands of protecting eyes were secretly supervising this +apparent carelessness; the troops were confined to barracks; gleaming +escorts of cuirassiers accompanied the imperial landaus.</p> + +<p>The empress also had asked Othomar to abandon his solitary morning rides +and never to show himself unattended. The Duke and Duchess of Xara +inhabited the Crown Palace, a comparatively new building on the quays, +where they kept up an extensive court; and in this palace the emperor +also caused domiciliary visits to be made and it appeared that there +were anarchists lurking among the staff.</p> + +<p>This treason within their very palaces kept the empress in a constant +shudder of terror: she lived in these days an unceasing life of dread +whenever she was separated from the emperor. For she was least terrified +when she showed herself by Oscar's side, at exhibitions, at public +ceremonies, at the Opera; and this was strange: she did not at such +times think of him, but, if they were not with her, thought rather of +her children, as though the catastrophe could happen only at some place +where she would not be present.</p> + +<p>The empress saw in Othomar so very much her own son that, in the +intimacy of their morning conversations—for the crown-prince still paid +his mother a short visit every morning—she was surprised not to find in +him her own dread, but on the contrary all her own resignation, which +was the reverse side of it. But since his marriage she had found him +altogether changed, no longer, in these short moments of their private +intercourse, complaining, hesitating, searching, but speaking calmly of +what he must do, filled with an evident harmony that gave a restful +assurance to his words, his gestures and even his actions. With this +assurance he retained a quiet, dignified modesty: he did not put his +views forward at all violently; he continued to possess that +receptiveness for the views of others which had always been one of his +most prominent and attractive qualities. He was undoubtedly old for his +young years: any one who did not know better would have given him more +than his twenty-three years, now that he was allowing his crisp beard to +grow.... And yet, yet, especially in these troubled days, his old fears +would often well up within him and he would remain sitting alone for +minutes at a time, staring at a vague point in his room, listening to +the murmurs of the future, as he had listened in that haunting night +among his forefathers at Castel Vaza. He then felt that, suddenly, as +with a garment, all his new resignation in life was slipping from him, +falling from his shoulders. But he had learnt so to govern himself that +nobody, not his father, not his mother, not even the crown-princess, +noticed anything of this mental dizziness, which left him ice-cold in +his short periods of solitude, doubting his right, full of strange, soft +compassion for his people....</p> + +<p>It was, actually, the old illness which thus, periodically, seethed in +him again like an evil sap, flowing through his veins, enfeebling his +nerves, crushing him internally, as though he would never be cured of +it. But he grew accustomed to it, no longer felt despair because of it, +even knew, during the few minutes that the malady lasted, that it would +pass and afterwards regained that sense of harmony which above all +constituted his resignation.</p> + +<p>It was in these days of silent fermentation that there was talk of a +marriage between Princess Thera and the Prince of Naples; nothing was +yet decided between the two families, but the young prince was invited +to Lipara to attend the great autumn manoeuvres. Shoots were arranged; +different festivities followed one upon the other. Othomar had in these +days to combat those sudden weaknesses more than ever: a strange +feeling, a shivering, a mysterious terror remained with him and no +longer left him, a terror which he dared not analyse, for fear of +discovering motives which would cause him to lose his calmness entirely. +There revived within him the recollection of the fact that shortly after +his marriage he had dreamt a dream more or less similar to his former +dream: the sinister capital filling with crape. It happened while he was +still residing with his young wife at Castel Zanthos and he had attached +no importance to it, because he considered that this second dream was +only a shadow of the former one, only the remembrance of what had +already happened and nothing more. But now, in these days of busy +celebrations in honour of the prince who was visiting their court, with +the ferment of popular discontent like a turbid, gloomy element beneath +the surface brilliancy of all their imperial display, the memory of it +revived and the terrors and shudders became more and more plainly +defined in his imagination and at one moment he felt his former nervous +weakness come over him to such an extent that he found an excuse to +summon Professor Barzia from Altara and had a long interview with the +specialist of which he did not even speak to the Duchess of Xara. When +the professor had gone, Othomar felt relieved and strengthened; only the +thought lingered within him that it was not right for a future sovereign +to be so much under the influence of a stronger mind as he was under +that of Barzia; and he proposed next time not to call in the professor's +power of suggestion, but to cure himself, in the privacy of his own +soul. This plan, to rely on his own strength in future, made him find +himself again for good and all....</p> + +<p>The day after his interview with Barzia, he spent the whole morning and +afternoon in the company of the Prince of Naples, with whom he visited +different places and, in so doing, displayed a gaiety and liveliness +which were rarely witnessed in the Duke of Xara. The members of their +suite were astonished at this radiant cheerfulness of the crown-prince, +in whom they had grown used to perceiving always a strain of melancholy. +That evening there was a great state-banquet at the Imperial. After +dinner, the imperial family were to accompany their guest to the Opera, +where a gala-performance was to take place and a famous tenor was to +sing.</p> + +<p>In these days, whenever the imperial family appeared in public, severe +precautionary measures were taken under the guise of glittering display. +A strong and close-packed escort of cuirassiers pranced round the +carriages which drove that night to the great opera-house. The street at +the side of the building containing the emperor's private entrance was +closed off; a guard of honour lined the staircase; the secret police +mingled with the expectant audience, which included all the smart +society of the capital....</p> + +<p>The imperial box, with its dark-violet draperies and gold tassels, was +just over the stage of the colossal theatre. The first act was +finished—they were playing <i>Aïda</i>—when the trumpet-blasts clanged out +from the orchestra and the august personages appeared: the emperor, the +empress, the Prince of Naples, the Duke and Duchess of Xara, Princess +Thera. And their entry seemed to electrify the hitherto dull, waiting, +nervously indifferent mood of the crowded house, as though, upon their +appearance, the light in the lustres shone more brilliantly, the house +blazed out with all the changeful flickerings of its jewels, all its +flashing gilt, all the curiosity of the bright eyes that gazed at the +imperial centre-group; as though the ladies' costumes suddenly blossomed +out with one rustle of heavy silken fabrics, while the unfurled fans +fluttered to and fro as though a breeze were blowing through many +flowers in unstinted light....</p> + +<p>Then the curtain rising on the second act, with all its melodrama of +royal Egyptian state: the victory after the war and the consequent +dances; the hero's love for the Ethiopian slave; and the Pharaoh's +jealous daughter and the procession of the gods with the sackbuts: all +sung, orchestrated, swelling symphonically in a square frame against a +painted background; a stirring picture of royal Egyptian antiquity +chanted before the eyes of modern royalty, of a modern audience, +indifferent to the rest so long as they met wherever society decided +that they should meet at the moment, under the eyes of the emperor and +his family and his illustrious young guest.... The passions on the stage +unbridling themselves in swelling bursts of music, a world of music, of +love and despair, of war and triumph and priestly ambition in music, all +music, as though life were music, music the soul and essence of the +world.... And, beneath the glamour of this music and of this factitious +life, the visible acting of the players, the glory of the famous tenor, +with his too-modern head, his dress marked by unreal because unwarlike +splendour, his bows and his smile aimed at the real world outside his +small, framed world of make-believe, aimed at the audience that +applauded after the emperor had deigned to clap his hands....</p> + +<p>It was at this moment, this moment of ovation, this moment of lustrous +triumph for the tenor, of applause led by the imperial hands. It was at +this moment: the Emperor Oscar turning to his aide-de-camp, the Marquis +of Xardi, behind him ... the aide listening respectfully to his +majesty's command that he should summon the singer to the +withdrawing-room of the imperial box ... the Empress Elizabeth and the +Duchess of Xara, glittering in their gala, their jewels, in smiling +conversation with the young foreign crown-prince who was their guest ... +Othomar still with his gaiety of the afternoon, jesting with Thera and +the ladies-in-waiting ... the whole house gazing, when the curtain had +fallen for the last time, at all of them, in their blaze of luxury and +light....</p> + +<p>At this moment, in the topmost gallery a sudden tumult, a struggle of +soldiers and police with one man.... A sudden rough scrimmage up there +in the midst of the most mundane expansion of aristocratic pageantry. +And all eyes no longer directed to the imperial box, but upwards.... +Then, the man, struggling, releasing himself with superhuman strength +from the grasp of his assailants, surging forwards, from out of their +throng, like a black lightning-flash of fate: dark, curly head, eyes +flashing hatred, fixed and fanatical, one arm suddenly outstretched +towards the imperial grandeur below, as though at a target, with +inexorable aim. The whole house one tumult, one shout, one shriek; wide +gestures of helpless arms: all this very quick, lasting barely a +second.... A shot ... and yet another shot....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The emperor is hit in the breast; he falls against the empress, whose +bare, jewelled bosom he suddenly soils with blood, which at once soaks +his gold uniform through and through ... not golden blood: rich red +blood.... But the empress throws up her arms in despair; her strident +scream rings through the house. She falls back into the embrace of the +Duchess of Xara. The emperor has sunk into the arms of Xardi and of +Othomar; a furious oath forces its way through his tight-clenched teeth, +while he tears open his gory uniform so fiercely that the buttons fly +around him....</p> + + + +<h3>4</h3> + +<p>Outside, the Opera Square, brightly lighted with many-armed, monumental +lamp-posts, had at once become dark and swarming, filled with a vast +mob; the whole town poured into it from every street; the alarm drew +everybody thither, as though with a magnet. Detachments of hussars were +already moving through the town, keeping order among the excited +populace; the Duke of Mena-Doni was everywhere at once, trampling down +the revolution with the military at his command in whatsoever corner it +seemed to lift its head. The sky above was dark and frowning. It began +to rain....</p> + +<p>The rumour sped that the emperor had died. It was not true. Wrestling +for breath, the sovereign lay in the crush-room of the opera-house, +amidst the panic of his family, of his suite, of the hurrying doctors. +He must not be moved, they said. He insisted. He refused to die here. He +was set on returning to his Imperial. And, straining the springs of his +energy, he commanded, he drew himself up, with the blood spurting from +his throat; Othomar and the aides supported him....</p> + +<p>Outside, in the square, the mob grew in numbers, the panic increased, +riot seethed up from among those black clusters of people. Continual +fights burst out between groups of men, dock-labourers, and the guard in +front of the building, the police. The court-carriages returned empty, +under escort, to the palace.</p> + +<p>Other carriages, cabs, tried here and there to force a way through the +people; they were surrounded by cuirassiers, who protected them with +drawn swords. Volumes of curses and abuse spattered up against them, +against the vaguely transparent windows, behind which were patches of +light colours, flashing sparks of jewels. Women's scared eyes peered out +fixedly, askance, without moving.</p> + +<p>In the corridors, on the huge, monumental staircase of the opera-house, +people hustled one another, fought to get through; then suddenly all +eyes, staring wide, looked up above: the emperor was passing, bleeding, +panting for breath, surrounded by his kin.... A feeling of awe stopped +the crush for a moment; then they pressed on again.... Ladies fled till +they found themselves behind the scenes, where they mingled their +aristocracy with the bohemianism of the actors and actresses, all mixed +up, confused, amidst the terrified, humming crowd of ballet-girls, +priestesses of Isis. Gratuities were lavished: anything for a carriage, +a cab....</p> + +<p>The Duchess of Yemena stood there with her daughters; they were looking +out for their carriage, which they had sent for at least ten times.... A +stage-carpenter shrugged his shoulders indifferently: he did not know +where to get a carriage from.</p> + +<p>"I won't wait any longer," said the duchess, shuddering.</p> + +<p>The girls clung to her, sobbing hysterically. She obtained a leather bag +from an actress; she hastily took off her jewels, ordered the girls to +do the same. They crammed them into the bag. She slipped a gold coin +into a dresser's hand, asked her to pin up their trains, to pin them +high, asked her to find them some black shoes. Other ladies, waiting and +half-swooning with fright, looked at her, saw her thus, strangely +practical. She succeeded in buying three long black cloaks and three +black hats from a group of chorus-girls, flung one cloak over herself, +flung the others over the sobbing little marchionesses.</p> + +<p>"I'm frightened, mamma!" sobbed Eleonore.</p> + +<p>The duchess was determined to get home somehow:</p> + +<p>"Come, come along!" she urged, driving the two girls before her.</p> + +<p>The other ladies, in alarm, watched them disappear through a back-door +into a side-street....</p> + +<p>The duchess pressed the bag with the jewels to her:</p> + +<p>"For God's sake, don't cry; keep your heads!" she ordered her daughters. +"Walk on quietly and not too fast. Wrap your cloaks well round you."</p> + +<p>She walked on, tall and erect between the two little trembling +marchionesses, in those chorus-girls' clothes; rain poured down. +Clusters of people ran up against them; they mingled with them; for a +moment she lost Hélène:</p> + +<p>"Wait a moment!" she said to Eleonore.</p> + +<p>And they remained standing amid the press of people; troops came jogging +on; socialistic songs of triumph carolled up coarsely.... Then she went +back with Eleonore, pushing, shoving, giving Hélène an opportunity to +get back to her:</p> + +<p>"Now both give me an arm: here!..."</p> + +<p>They did as they were told; thus, seemingly calm, slowly, slowly, as +though they were sight-seers who had also come to look, they reached the +Opera Square, where the mob was swarming up against the guards. +Carriages passed, at a walking-pace, escorted by soldiers. A wretched +old hired growler, with a gaunt hack, pushed a muddy wheel right up +against her, grazing her knees; a cuirassier of the escort raised his +sword threateningly against her....</p> + +<p>"My God!" she cried, awe-struck, clutching the children.</p> + +<p>She had first recognized the driver, in a dirty coat: a footman from the +Imperial, whose face she remembered. Then, with a swift glance into the +cab, she recognized—just close to a lamp-post with a number of +ornamental branches—the emperor leaning against Othomar and her own +stepson, Xardi. But the marquis did not recognize her, for, startled by +the great light, he quickly turned his face away and bent, sombrely, +protectingly, over the emperor and the crown-prince....</p> + +<p>The girls had seen nothing; the duchess said nothing, afraid of +betraying them.... She felt all her pluck and assurance forsake her; she +shuddered from head to foot. She could not restrain her tears for her +poor emperor, who was dying, who was returning to his palace in such a +guise. A great, dark terror took possession of her. The rain trickled +over her bosom....</p> + +<p>"Keep your cloaks round you!" she again admonished her daughters.</p> + +<p>Then she went on, dragging herself along and the girls as well, beside +her, stumbling on their feet...</p> + +<p>But a whirl of people swept across the Opera Square; there seemed to be +a fight in progress: a heap of men, surrounding a group of +police-constables and soldiers, in whose midst a madman wrestled with +forcible gestures; a coarse clamour rose on high. At the lighted, open +windows of the opera-house, above the perystile, still decked in its +bright, festal illumination, face after face, appeared, actors still in +costume looked on....</p> + +<p>"Mamma, we shall never get through!" sobbed Eleonore, softly.</p> + +<p>The duchess thought in despair of the great Empress Avenue in which +their town-house stood; it was so far away: how would they ever reach +it, how would they ever get home?...</p> + +<p>"They're murdering him, they're murdering him, they shan't murder him!" +bleated the people round them.</p> + +<p>Then the duchess understood, then she saw and the girls also saw: the +mob, furious, foaming at the mouth—avengers now, though at first +malcontents, perhaps even anarchists: such were the Liparians!—the mob +pressing against the soldiers and constables, in the midst of whom the +emperor's murderer still made fight with his large, frenzied gestures. +And the avengers stormed this circle of protecting police; they dragged +the man out.... They dragged him right under the eyes of the duchess, of +her daughters....</p> + +<p>"Ugh, ugh, ugh!" they roared brutally, men and women alike.</p> + +<p>They tore the clothes from his body, they beat him; and he howled back. +They struck him to the ground with cudgels and trampled on him with +coarse shoes; his blood flowed; his brains spattered from his crushed +skull....</p> + +<p>Then, at the sight of blood, they became like wild beasts; they grinned +and smacked their lips with delight.</p> + +<p>Eleonore fell back fainting against the duchess, but Alexa shook her by +the arm:</p> + +<p>"Keep up, keep up, for God's sake keep up, can't you?" she cried out +aloud. "I can do nothing with you if you faint!"</p> + +<p>Her strong hands goaded the little marchioness back into life and again +she dragged them on, staggering....</p> + + + +<h3>5</h3> + +<p>The emperor, who refused to die, lived by sheer energy for two days +longer, with his perforated lungs, panting for breath.</p> + +<p>And such were the Liparians: the man, the murderer, seized in the +opera-house, despite the police and the guard, had been battered into a +shapeless mass by the malcontents themselves....</p> + +<p>And such is life: the emperor of a great country was shot dead by a +fanatic in the midst of his kith and kin and life went on.... The +country was as extensive as before: a rich, naturally beautiful, +southern empire; tall, snow-clad mountains in the north; medieval and +modern towns, lying in broad provinces; the residential capital itself, +white in its golden autumn sunshine, with its Imperial, beneath a blue +sky, close to the blue sea, round which circled the quays....</p> + +<p>And such is the life of rulers: the emperor lay dead, killed by a simple +pistol-shot; and the court chamberlain was very busy, the masters of +ceremonies unable to agree; the pomp of an imperial funeral was prepared +in all its intricacy; through all Europe sped the after-shudder of +fright; every newspaper was filled with telegrams and long articles....</p> + +<p>All this was because of one shot from a fanatic, a martyr for the +people's rights.</p> + +<p>The Empress Elizabeth stared with wide-open eyes at the fate that had +overtaken her. Not thus had she ever pictured to herself that it would +come, thus, so rudely, in the midst of that festivity and in the +presence of their royal guest; thus, glancing past her, striking only +her husband and not crushing them all, at one blow, all their imperial +pride! It had come to pass and ... she still feared, she still went on +fearing, more now than before: for her son!... It seemed to her as if +she were fearing for the first time....</p> + +<p>It was the day before the funeral of the Emperor Oscar, when the Duchess +of Xara, now the young empress, was seized with indisposition and the +doctors declared that she was <i>enceinte</i>.</p> + +<p>The emperor's remains had already been removed in great pomp to Altara. +At St. Ladislas the Altarians were to see him lying in state between +thousands of flaming candles, with the brilliant insignia of the supreme +power at his feet; after that he was to be removed to the imperial vault +in the cathedral....</p> + +<p>On that day too at Lipara, whose whiteness took tones of sombre twilight +beneath mourning decorations and flags flown at half-mast, the salutes +from Fort Wenceslas echoed over the town, thundering in dull tones their +regular, heavy, monotonous bombardment of farewell. Lonely, +majestically, in the town resounding with the salutes, stood the +Imperial, empty, with its caryatids staring with gloomy, downcast eyes. +The young emperor, Othomar XII., was at Altara, leading the solemn +procession. The empress-mother was at the Crown Palace, with the young +Empress Valérie.... Over their glamour, still shining, shone new +glamours, in life which had continued, which was continuing still....</p> + +<p>The two empresses sat side by side. Valérie held Elizabeth gently in her +arms; at regular intervals the guns boomed from the fort, through the +palace...</p> + +<p>Then Elizabeth drew herself up painfully from her daughter-in-law's arms +and spoke in low, oracular tones:</p> + +<p>"If it's a son ... it will be a Duke of Xara.... He would so much have +liked to see a Count of Lycilia...."</p> + +<p>The guns boomed; the two empresses, in deep mourning, wept and sobbed. +And now for the first time after a long interval—as there had also been +a long interval at Berengar's death—Elizabeth realized all her loss, +her sorrow, her misery, her despair; and she felt that that emperor, to +whom, as a very young princess, now four-and-twenty years ago, she had +been given in marriage, without love, she had come to love in this +quarter of a century of their life in common on his high pinnacle of +sovereignty....</p> + +<p>That evening Othomar returned and, alone with his wife, with his mother, +he sobbed with them, the young emperor, whom no one had seen weeping in +the cathedral at Altara. For the Empress Elizabeth had repeated yet once +more:</p> + +<p>"If it's a son ... it will be a Duke of Xara...."</p> + +<p>And then the Emperor of Liparia had lost his self-restraint. In one +lightning-flash, one zig-zag of terror, he saw again his life as +crown-prince, he thought of his unborn son. What would become of this +child of fate? Would it be a repetition of himself, of his hesitation, +his melancholy and his despair?</p> + +<p>And then with irrepressible sobs, suddenly overwhelmed by the menace of +the future, he sobbed out his grief for his father who had been and his +son who was to be! He sobbed, with his head in the arms of his young +empress, who, suddenly realizing that she must comfort him, had grown +calm and looked calmly down upon him, taking their life of majesty upon +her shoulders as though it were an oppressive, heavy mantle of purple +and ermine and nothing more, taking it up so valiantly because there +flowed in her veins as in his one single drop of sacred golden blood, +common to all of their order, their might upon earth and their right +before God....</p> + + + +<h3>6</h3> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">"To HER IMPERIAL AND ROYAL HIGHNESS EUDOXIE</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 9em;">"ARCHDUCHESS OF AUSTRIA,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 17em;">"SIGISMUNDINGEN.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 16em;">"ST. LADISLAS,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 19.5em;">"ALTARA,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 16em;">"—<i>May</i>, 18—.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"MY DEAR MOTHER,</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell you how your letter pained me. For God's sake, do not +excite yourself so and say such terrible things. We too regretted +intensely that you could not be present at our coronation and that your +rheumatic fever obliged you to remain at Sigismundingen; but why need +you, dear mother, look upon that fever as a punishment from God? And why +need you look upon it as a punishment from God that you did not see your +fondest illusion fulfilled and were not able to be present in our old +cathedral when Othomar, after being crowned by the primate, with his own +hands crowned me Empress of Liparia? You were not there, but yet it came +about: your illusion is truth, after all. And I tell you this without +the least, oh, believe me, without the <i>least</i> bitterness!... A +punishment for forcing me, against my will? You must be ill indeed, ill +in body and mind, poor mother, to be able to write like that: it makes +me smile a little, I no longer recognize you. And let my smile bear +witness that I am not unhappy: oh, far from it! Our happiness is hardly +ever what we ourselves intend it to be and what we regret that it is +not....</p> + +<p>"If you were to see me, you would see that I am not unhappy. It is May, +the sun is shining, the oriel-windows are open. In the distance, when I +look out, I can see the Zanthos winding away in a broad, gleaming +expanse of water. Close by my writing-table stands your beautiful big +silver cradle; and through the closed lace curtains I can see my little +Duke of Xara slumbering.... I don't know how to write all this to you, I +have no command of words in which to express it fully to you; but what I +feel, with this wide river landscape before me and this precious little +child by my side: oh, mamma, it is not unhappiness! It is a feeling +which hides a great deal of melancholy, but which hides nothing more +sombre than that. And really why should it, in spite of that melancholy, +not be even happiness? I am young, I am empress and I see life before +me! Round about me, I see my country, I see my people: I want it to +become the people of my heart, of my soul, entirely. I don't yet know +how, but I want to live for this people, I want to live together with +Othomar. Oh, I grant you, how I am to do that I don't yet know, but I +shall find a way, together with him! And, having a husband and a child +and a people, an emperor, a crown-prince and an empire, have I then no +aim in life? And, having an aim in life—and such a tremendous +aim!—have I not then also happiness? Is happiness anything other than +to have found a lofty, a noble aim in life?</p> + +<p>"I am so anxious to convince you. And, if you saw me here, at our quiet +St. Ladislas, now that all the agitation of the coronation-festivities +is past, you would believe me. Othomar loves St. Ladislas and proposes +to come here every year for a month in the spring. It is considered a +good omen that my child was born here, for you know the feeling of the +Liparians, their wish to see the crown-prince of their country born at +St. Ladislas, under the immediate protection of the patron saint.</p> + +<p>"Othomar, however, is not here at the moment: he has gone for a few days +to Lipara—of course, you know this from the papers—and writes to me +twice a day. I asked him to do this so that I might be fully informed as +to his state of mind. The tragedy of his father's death, the Emperor +Oscar's two days' death-agony affected Othomar so violently, so +violently: my God, how can I find words to describe that terror to you! +How can I still live in hope, after all that I have already suffered in +my short life and seen around me in the way of terror! And yet, yet it +is like that, for youth is so strong and I, I am strong, I <i>must</i> be +strong....</p> + +<p>"I admired my young emperor, in those terrible days, for his outward +calm, through which the storm-flood of all his emotions never burst +loose before the eyes of the world. Directly after the funeral, the +ceremony of signing the five sacred deeds; the immediate agitation of +the accumulated affairs of state.... A month later, the new elections, +the constitutional majority in the house of deputies, the resignation of +the ministry.... All this you will have seen in the papers.... After +that, the birth of our son and then our coronation, at the moment when +Liparia seemed shaken to its foundations! And now Othomar is at Lipara, +because of the new constitutional ministry.... Then Count Myxila, who +does not agree with Othomar's modern ideas and who has even ventured to +reproach him with some vehemence for abandoning all his father's views +upon government so shortly after his violent death and who is now +tendering his resignation.... Othomar will make an effort to keep him, +though he himself realizes that it will not be possible.... And the +revision of the constitution in the immediate future, with so many +drastic changes, probably with the inauguration of the upper and lower +chambers, while the house of peers will continue its outward existence, +but will be actually nothing more than an honorary consulting body. +These are concessions, if you will have it so, but then, you know, +Othomar has quite different ideas from his father's and, when he makes +these concessions, he undoubtedly makes them to the past and not to the +future nor to himself....</p> + +<p>"Life is cruel, cruel in its changes and cruel even in its renascences; +and for us rulers all this is perhaps even more cruel; but the world +belongs to the future....</p> + +<p>"The Empress Elizabeth is still here: she has suddenly grown so old, so +grey and very dull and depressed; and she does not know what to do: +whether to remain with her household at the Imperial, to stay on here at +St. Ladislas, or to retire to Castel Xaveria.... All the imperial +palaces and castles are whirling through her poor head: her private +properties and the crown domains; she does not know where she wants to +go; we of course continue to urge her not to leave the Imperial: it is +large enough to enable her to retain almost all her own military and +civil household....</p> + +<p>"Dearest mother, I will write to you again soon: my head is still too +much in a whirl; I have touched on too many topics; my woman's brains +are not capable of thinking that all out logically and coherently and +writing it down.... And I have only been empress for such a short time +and I am only twenty-two, though I no longer feel so young.... This +letter is but a hurriedly-written reply to your doleful self-reproach, +which I now beseech you in Heaven's name to put aside <i>entirely</i>. Now +that I write this to you, the evening of my betrothal-dinner at +Sigismundingen rises before my mind. We were such a strange engaged +couple, Othomar and I! I asked him—smile at this, mamma, and don't cry +about it—whether he loved anybody. He said no. He told me he loved his +people and he stretched out his arms, as though he would have embraced +them. His people! The dawn of a new idea—old no doubt to thousands and +ages old, but new to me, as a new day is new—shone out before me, threw +light over my gloomy sufferings, brightened a road before me....</p> + +<p>"That road, mamma, I now see stretching before me clearer and clearer +every day; and I mean to follow it with my husband and my child, with my +emperor and my crown-prince ... my crown-prince, who is waking and +crying for me!</p> + +<p>"May God grant me strength, mamma!</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 30.5em;">"VALÉRIE."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MAJESTY***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 33779-h.txt or 33779-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/3/7/7/33779">http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/7/7/33779</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions 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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