diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/51238-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/51238-0.txt | 8290 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 8290 deletions
diff --git a/old/51238-0.txt b/old/51238-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 045012d..0000000 --- a/old/51238-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8290 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Pride of Jennico, by Agnes Castle and -Egerton Castle - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - - -Title: The Pride of Jennico - Being a Memoir of Captain Basil Jennico - - -Author: Agnes Castle and Egerton Castle - - - -Release Date: February 17, 2016 [eBook #51238] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRIDE OF JENNICO*** - - -E-text prepared by Giovanni Fini, David Edwards, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images -generously made available by Internet Archive (https://archive.org) - - - -Note: Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive. See - https://archive.org/details/prideofjennicobe00castrich - - -Transcriber’s note: - - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - - Text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=). - - - - - -THE PRIDE OF JENNICO - - -[Illustration: logo] - - -THE PRIDE OF JENNICO - -Being a Memoir of Captain Basil Jennico - -by - -AGNES AND EGERTON CASTLE - - - - - - - -New York -The Macmillan Company -London: Macmillan & Co., Ltd. -1899 - -All rights reserved - -Copyright, 1897, 1898, -By The Macmillan Company. - -Set up and electrotyped February, 1898. Reprinted February, April, June -three times, July, September, October, December, twice, 1898. - -Norwood Press -J. S. Cushing & Co.—Berwick & Smith -Norwood, Mass. U.S.A. - - - - - CONTENTS - - PART I - - Page - - CHAPTER I. MEMOIR OF CAPTAIN BASIL JENNICO (BEGUN, - APPARENTLY IN GREAT TROUBLE AND STRESS OF - MIND, AT THE CASTLE OF TOLLENDHAL, IN MORAVIA, - ON THE THIRD DAY OF THE GREAT STORM, LATE IN - THE YEAR 1771) 1 - - CHAPTER II. BASIL JENNICO’S MEMOIR CONTINUED 23 - - CHAPTER III. 45 - - CHAPTER IV. 59 - - CHAPTER V. 72 - - CHAPTER VI. 90 - - CHAPTER VII. 101 - - CHAPTER VIII. 113 - - CHAPTER IX. 124 - - - PART II - - CHAPTER I. MEMOIR OF CAPTAIN BASIL JENNICO (A PORTION, - WRITTEN EARLY IN THE YEAR 1772, IN HIS ROOMS - AT GRIFFIN’S, CUR ZON STREET) 143 - - CHAPTER II. CAPTAIN BASIL JENNICO’S MEMOIR CONTINUED 173 - - CHAPTER III. CAPTAIN BASIL JENNICO’S MEMOIR, RESUMED THREE - MONTHS LATER, AT FARRINGDON DANE 183 - - CHAPTER IV. NARRATIVE OF AN EPISODE AT WHITE’S CLUB, IN - WHICH CAPTAIN JENNICO WAS CONCERNED, SET FORTH - FROM CONTEMPORARY ACCOUNTS 201 - - CHAPTER V. NARRATIVE OF AN EPISODE AT WHITE’S CONTINUED 218 - - - PART III - - CHAPTER I. MEMOIR OF CAPTAIN BASIL JENNICO - (RESUMED IN THE SPRING OF THE YEAR 1773) 230 - - CHAPTER II. 252 - - CHAPTER III. 266 - - CHAPTER IV. 287 - - CHAPTER V. 306 - - CHAPTER VI. 319 - - CHAPTER VII. 332 - - - - - THE PRIDE OF JENNICO - - - - -PART I - - - - -CHAPTER I - - MEMOIR OF CAPTAIN BASIL JENNICO (BEGUN, APPARENTLY IN GREAT TROUBLE - AND STRESS OF MIND, AT THE CASTLE OF TOLLENDHAL, IN MORAVIA, ON THE - THIRD DAY OF THE GREAT STORM, LATE IN THE YEAR 1771) - - -AS the wind rattles the casements with impotent clutch, howls down -the stair-turret with the voice of a despairing soul, creeps in long -irregular waves between the tapestries and the granite walls of my -chamber and wantons with the flames of logs and candles; knowing, as I -do, that outside the snow is driven relentlessly by the gale, and that -I can hope for no relief from the company of my wretched self,—for -they who have learnt the temper of these wild mountain winds tell me -the storm must last at least three days more in its fury,—I have -bethought me, to keep from going melancholy crazed altogether, to set -me some regular task to do. - -And what can more fitly occupy my poor mind than the setting forth, -as clearly as may be, the divers events that have brought me to this -strange plight in this strange place? although, I fear me, it may not -in the end be over-clear, for in sooth I cannot even yet see a way -through the confusion of my thoughts. Nay, I could at times howl in -unison with yonder dismal wind for mad regret; and at times again rage -and hiss and break myself, like the fitful gale, against the walls of -this desolate house for anger at my fate and my folly! - -But since I can no more keep my thoughts from wandering to her and -wondering upon her than I can keep my hot blood from running—running -with such swiftness that here, alone in the wide vaulted room, with -blasts from the four corners of the earth playing a very demon’s dance -around me, I am yet all of a fever heat—I will try whether, by laying -bare to myself all I know of her and of myself, all I surmise and guess -of the parts we acted towards each other in this business, I may not -at least come to some understanding, some decision, concerning the -manner in which, as a man, I should comport myself in my most singular -position. - -Having reached thus far in his writing, the scribe after shaking the -golden dust of the pounce box over his page paused, musing for a -moment, loosening with unconscious fingers the collar of his coat from -his neck and gazing with wide grey eyes at the dancing flames of the -logs, and the little clouds of ash that ever and anon burst from the -hearth with a spirt when particles of driven snow found their way down -the chimney. Presently the pen resumed its travels: - - * * * * * - -Everything began, of course, through my great-uncle Jennico’s -legacy. Do I regret it? I have sometimes cursed it. Nevertheless, -although tossed between conflicting regrets and yearnings, I cannot -in conscience wish it had not come to pass. Let me be frank. Bitter -and troubling is my lot in the midst of my lonely splendour; but -through the mist which seems in my memory to separate the old life -from the new, those days of yesteryear (for all their carelessness -and fancy-freedom) seem now strangely dull. Yes, it is almost a year -already that it came, this legacy, by which a young Englishman, serving -in his Royal and Imperial Majesty’s Chevau-Legers, was suddenly -transformed, from an obscure Rittmeister with little more worldly goods -than his pay, into one of the richest landowners in the broad Empire, -the master of an historic castle on the Bohemian Marches. - -It was indeed an odd turn of fortune’s wheel. But doubtless there is a -predestination in such things, unknown to man. - -My great-uncle had always taken a peculiar interest in me. Some fifty -years before my birth, precluded by the religion of our family from -any hope of advancement in the army of our own country, he had himself -entered the Imperial service; and when I had reached the age of -manhood, he insisted on my being sent to him in Vienna to enter upon -the same career. To him I owe my rapid promotion after the Turkish -campaign of 1769. But I question, for all his influence at Court, -whether I should have benefited otherwise than through his advice and -interest, had it not been for an unforeseen series of moves on the part -of my elder brother at home. - -One fine day it was announced to us that this latter had been offered -and had accepted a barony in the peerage of Great Britain. At first -it did not transpire upon what grounds a Catholic gentleman should -be so honoured, and we were obliged, my uncle and I, to content -ourselves with the impossible explanation that “Dear Edmund’s value -and abilities and the great services he had rendered by his exertions -in the last Suffolk Elections had been brought to the notice of his -Majesty, who was thus graciously pleased to show his appreciation of -the same.” - -Our good mother (who would not be the true woman she is did she not set -a value on the honours of this world), my excellent brother, and, of -course, his ambitious lady, all agreed that it was a mighty fine thing -for Sir Edmund Jennico to become My Lord Rainswick, and they sent us -many grandiloquent missives to that effect. - -But with my great-uncle things were vastly different. To all appearance -he had grown, during the course of his sixty odd years in the Imperial -service, into a complete unmitigated foreigner, who spoke English like -a German, if, indeed, the extraordinary jargon he used (under the -impression that it was his mother tongue) could be so called. As a -matter of fact it would have been difficult to say what tongue was my -great-uncle’s own. It was not English nor French—not even the French -of German courts—nor true German, but the oddest compound of all -three, with a strong peppering of Slovack or Hungarian according as the -country in which he served suggested the adjunction. A very persuasive -compound it proved, however, when he took up his commanding voice, -poor man! But, foreigner as he was, covered as his broad chest might be -with foreign orders, freely as he had spent his life’s energy in the -pay of a foreign monarch, my great-uncle Jennico had too much English -pride of race, too much of the old Jennico blood (despite this same had -been so often let for him by Bavarian and Hanoverian, Prussian, French, -and Turk), to brook in peace what he considered a slight upon his grand -family traditions. - -Now this was precisely what my brother had committed. In the first -place he had married a lady who, I hear, is amazingly handsome, and -sufficiently wealthy, but about whose lineage it seems altogether -unadvisable to seek clear information. Busy as he was in the midst of -his last campaign, my great-uncle (who even in the wilds of Bulgaria -seemed to keep by some marvellous means in touch with what moves were -being played by the family in distant Suffolk) nevertheless had the -matter probed. And the account he received was not of a satisfactory -nature. I fear me that those around him then did not find the -fierceness of his rule softened by the unwelcome news from that distant -island of Britain. - -The Jennicos, although they had been degraded (so my uncle maintained) -by the gift of a paltry baronetcy at the hands of Charles II., as a -reward for their bleeding and losses in the Royal cause, were, he -declared, of a stock with which blood-royal itself might be allied -without derogation. The one great solace of his active life was a -recapitulation of the deeds, real or legendary, that, since the landing -of the Danes on Saxon soil, had marked the passage through history of -those thirty-one authentic generations, the twenty-ninth of which was -so worthily represented by himself. The worship of the name was with -him an absolute craze. - -It is undoubtedly to that craze that I owe my accession of fortune—ay, -and my present desolation of heart.... - -But to resume. When, therefore, already dissatisfied with my brother’s -alliance, he heard that the head of the family proposed to engraft upon -it a different name—a _soi-disant_ superior title—his wrath was loud -and deep: - -“Eh quoi! mille millions de Donnerblitzen! what the Teufel idiot think? -what you think?” - -I was present when the news arrived; it was in his chancellerie on the -Josefsplatz at Vienna. I shall not lightly forget the old man’s saffron -face. - -“Does that Schaffkopf brother of yours not verstand what Jennico to -be means? what thinkest thou? would I be what I am, were it not that I -have ever known, boy, what I was geborn to when I was Jennico geborn? -How comes it that I am what I here am? How is it gecome, thinkest -thou, that I have myself risen to the highest honour in the Empire, -that I am field-marshal this day, above the heads of your princekins, -your grand-dukeleins, highnesses, and serenities? Dummes Vieh!”—with -a parenthetical shake of his fist at the open paper on his desk—“how -is it gecome that I wedded la belle Héritière des Woschutzski, the -most beautiful woman in Silesia, the richest, pardi! the noblest?” -And his Excellency (methinks I see him now) turned to me with sudden -solemnity: “You will answer me,” he said in an altered voice, “you will -answer me (because you are a fool youth), that I have become great -general because I am the bravest soldier, the cleverest commander, of -all the Imperial troops; that I to myself have won the lady for whom -Transparencies had sued in vain because of being the most beautiful man -in the whole Kaiserlich service.” - - * * * * * - -Here the younger Jennico, for all the vexation of spirit which had -suggested the labour of his systematic narrative as a distraction, -could not help smiling to himself, as, with pen raised towards the -standish, he paused for a moment to recall on how many occasions he had -heard this explanation of the Field-Marshal’s success in life. Then the -grating of the quill began afresh: - - * * * * * - -When my venerable relative came to this, I, being an irreverent young -dog, had much ado to keep myself from a great yell of laughter. He was -pleased to remark, latterly, in an approving mood, that I was growing -every day into a more living image of what he remembered himself to -have been in the good times when he wore a cornet’s uniform. I should -therefore have felt delicately flattered, but the fact is that the -tough old soldier, if in the divers accidents of war he had gathered -much glory, had not come off without a fine assortment of disfiguring -wounds. The ball that passed through his cheeks at Leuthen had removed -all his most ornamental teeth, and had given the oddest set to the -lower part of his countenance. It was after Kolin that, the sight -of his left eye being suppressed by the butt end of a lance, he had -started that black patch which imparted a peculiar ferocity to his -aspect, although it seemed, it is true, to sharpen the piercing -qualities of the remaining orb. At Hochkirch, where he culled some of -his greenest laurels, a Prussian bullet in his knee forced on him the -companionship of a stout staff for ever afterwards. He certainly had -been known in former days as _le beau Jennico_, but of its original -cast of feature it is easy to conceive that, after these repeated -finishing touches, his countenance bore but little trace. - -“But no,” the dear old man would say, baring his desolate lower tusks -at me, and fixing me with his wild-boar eye, “it is not to my beauty, -Kerl, not to my courage, Kerl, that I owe success, but because I am -geborn Jennico. When man Jennico geborn is, man is geborn to all the -rest—to the beauty, to the bravery. When I wooed your late dead tante, -they, mere ignorant Poles, said to me: ’It is well. You are honoured. -We know you honourable; but are you born? To wed a Countess Woschutzski -one must be born, one must show, honoured sir,’ they said, ’at least -seize quartiers, attested in due proper form.’ - -“‘Eh!’ said I, ’is that all? See you, you shall have sixteen -quarterings. Sixteen quarterings? Bah! You shall have sixteen -quarterings beyond that, and then sixteen again; and you shall then -learn what it is called to be called Jennico!’—Potztausend!—And -I simply wrote to the Office of Heralds in London, what man calls -College of Arms, for them to look up the records of Jennico and draw -out a right proper pedigree of the familie, spare no cost, right up -to the date of King Knut! Eh? Oh, ei, ei! Kerlchen! You should have -seen the roll of parchment that was in time gesendt—_Teremtété!_ and -_les yeux que fit monsieur mon beau-père_ [my excellent great-uncle -said _mon peau-bère_] when they were geopened to what it means to be -well-born English! A well-born man never knows his blood as he should, -until he sets himself to trace it through all the veins. Blood-royal, -yunker, blood-royal! Once Danish, two times Plantagenet, and once -Stuart, but that a strong dose—he-he, ei, ei! The Merry Monarch, as -the school-books say, had wide paternity, though—verstehts sich—his -daughter (who my grossmutter became) was noble also by her mother. Up -it goes high, weit. Thou shalt see for thyself when thou comest to -Tollendhal. Na, ya, and thou shalt study it too—it all runs in thine -veins also. Forget it not!... And of all her treasures, your aunt -would always tell me there was none she prized more than that document -relating to our family. She had it unrolled upon her bed when she could -no longer use her limbs, and she used to trace out, crying now and -then, the poor soul, what her boy would have carried of honour if he -had lived. Ah, ’twas a million pities she never bore me another!—’tis -the only reproach that darf be made her.... I have consoled myself -hitherto with the thought of my nephew’s youthling; but, Potzblitz, -this Edmund, now the head of our family—ach, the verdamned hound! -Tausend Donnern and Bomben!”—and my great-uncle’s guttural voice would -come rumbling, like gathering thunder indeed, and rise to a frightful -bellow—“to barter his fine old name for the verdamned mummery of a -Baron Rainswick—Rainswick?—pooh! A creation of this Hanover dog! -And what does he give on his side to drive this fine bargain? Na, na, -sprech to me not: I mislike it; nephew, I tell thee, I doubt me but -there is something hinter it yet. - -“Nephew Basil,” he then went on, this day I speak of, “if I were not -seventy-three years old I would marry again—I would, to have an heir, -by Heaven! that the true race might not die out!” - -And despite his wall-eye, his jaw, his game leg, his generally -disastrous aspect, I believe he might have been as good as his threat, -his seventy-and-three years notwithstanding. But what really deterred -him from such a rash step was his belief (although he would not -gratify me by saying so) that there was at hand as good a Jennico as -he could wish for, and that one, myself, Basil. And he saw in me a -purer sproutling of that noble island race of the north that he was so -fiercely proud of, than he could have produced by a marriage with a -foreigner. For, thorough “Imperial” as he now was, and notwithstanding -his early foreign education (which had begun in the Stuart regiments -of the French king), the dominant thought in the old warrior’s brain -was that a very law of nature required the gentle-born sons of such -a country to be honoured as leaders among foreign men. And great was -the array of names he could summon, should any one be rash enough to -challenge the assertion. Butlers and Lallys, Brownes and Jerninghams, -by Gad! Keiths and Dillons and Berwicks, _morbleu_! Fermors, Loudons, -and Lacys, and how many more if necessary; ay, and Jennicos not the -least of them, I should hope, _teremtété_! - -I did not think that my brother had bettered himself by the change, and -still less could I concur in the turn-coat policy he had thought fit -to adopt in order to buy from a Hanoverian King and a bigoted House of -Lords this accession of honour. For my uncle was not far wrong in his -suspicions, and in truth it did not require any strong perspicacity to -realise that it was not for nothing my brother was thus distinguished. -I mean not for his merits—which amounts to the same thing. I made -strong efforts to keep the tidings of his cowardly defection from my -uncle. But family matters were not, as I have said, to be hidden from -Feldmarschall Edmund von Jennico. I believe the news hastened his -dissolution. Repeated fits of anger are pernicious to gouty veterans of -explosive temper. It was barely three weeks after the arrival of the -tidings of my brother having taken the oaths and his seat in the House -of Lords that I was summoned by a messenger, hot foot, from the little -frontier town where I was quartered with my squadron, to attend my -great-uncle’s death-bed. It was a sixteen-hours’ ride through the snow. -I reached this frowning old stronghouse late at night, hastened by a -reminder at each relay ready prepared for me; hastened by the servants -stationed at the gate; hastened on the stairs, at his very door, the -door of this room. I found him sitting in his armchair, almost a corpse -already, fully conscious, grimly triumphant. - -“Thou shalt have it all,” was the first thing he whispered to me as -I knelt by his side. His voice was so low that I had to bend my ear -to his mouth. But the pride of race had never seemed to burn with -brighter flame. “Alles ist dein, alles ... aber,” and he caught at me -with his clawlike hand, cold already with the very chill of earth, -“remember that thou the last Jennico bist. Royal blood, Kerlchen, Knut, -Plantagenet, Stuart ... noblesse oblige, remember. Bring no roturière -into the family.” - -His heiduck, who had endured his testy temper and his rigid rule for -forty years, suddenly gave a kind of gulp, like a sob, from behind the -chair where he stood, rigid, on duty at his proper post, but with his -hands, instead of resting correctly on hip and sword-handle, joined in -silent prayer. A striking-looking man, for all his short stature, with -his extraordinary breadth of shoulders, his small piercing eyes, his -fantastically hard features all pock-seared, that seemed carved out of -some swarthy, worm-eaten old oak. - -“Thou fool!” hissed my uncle, impatiently turning his head at the -sound, and making a vain attempt to seek the ever-present staff with -his trembling fingers. “Basil, crack me the knave on the skull.” Then -he paused a moment, looked at the clock and said in a significant way, -“It is time, János.” - -The heiduck instantly moved and left the room, to return promptly, -ushering in a number of the retainers who had evidently been gathered -together and kept in attendance against my arrival. - -They ranged themselves silently in a row behind János; and the dying -man in a feeble voice and with the shadow of a gesture towards me, but -holding them all the while under his piercing look, said two or three -times: - -“Your master, men, your master.” Whereupon, János leading the way, -every man of them, household-steward, huntsmen, overseers, foresters, -hussars, came forward, kissed my hand, and retired in silence. - -Then the end came rapidly. He wandered in his speech and was back in -the past with dead and gone comrades. At the very last he rallied once -more, fixed me with his poor eye that I had never seen dim before, and -spoke with consciousness: - -“Thou, the last Jennico, remember. Be true. Tell the renegade I -rejoice, his shame striketh not us. Tell him that he did well to change -his name. Kerlchen, dear son, thou art young and strong, breed a fine -stock. No roture! but sell and settle ... sell and settle.” - -Those words came upon his last sigh. His eye flashed once, and then the -light was extinguished. - -Thus he passed. His dying thought was for the worthy continuance of -his race. I found myself the possessor, so the tabellions informed me -some days later, of many millions (reckoned by the florins of this -land) besides the great property of Tollendhal—fertile plains as -well as wild forests, and of this same isolated frowning castle with -its fathom-thick walls, its odd pictures of half-savage dead and gone -Woschutzskis, its antique clumsy furniture, tapestries, trophies of -chase and war; master, moreover, of endless tribes of dependants: -heiducks and foresters; females of all ages, whose bare feet in summer -patter oddly on the floors like the tread of animals, whose high-boots -in winter clatter perpetually on the stone flags of stairs and -corridors; serf-peasants, factors, overseers; the strangest mixture of -races that can be imagined: Slovacks, Bohemians, Poles, to labour on -the glebe; Saxons or Austrians to rule over them and cypher out rosters -and returns; Magyars, who condescend to manage my horseflesh and watch -over my safety if nothing else; the travelling bands of gipsies, ever -changing but never failing with the dance, the song and the music, -which is as indispensable as salt to the life of that motley population. - -And I, who in a more rational order of things might have been leading -the life of a young squire at home, became sovereign lord of all, -wielding feudal power over strings of vassals who deemed it great -honour to bend the knee before me and kiss my hand. - -No doubt, in the beginning, it was vastly fine; especially as so -much wealth meant freedom. For my first act, on my return after the -expiration of my furlough, was to give up the duties of regimental -life, irksome and monotonous in these piping days of peace. Then I -must hie me to Vienna, and there, for the first time of my life of -six-and-twenty years, taste the joy of independence. In Vienna are -enough of dashing sparks and beautiful women, of princes and courtiers, -gamblers and rakes, to teach me how to spend some of my new-found -wealth in a manner suitable to so fashionable a person as myself. - -But how astonishingly soon one accustoms oneself to luxury and -authority! It is but three months ago that, having drained the brimming -cup of pleasure to the dregs, I found its first sweetness cloying, -its first alluring sparkle almost insufferable; that, having basked -in perpetual smiles, I came to weary of so much favour. Winning at -play had no fascination for a man with some thirty thousand pounds a -year at his back; and losing large slices of that patrimony which -had, I felt, been left me under an implied trust, was dully galling -to my conscience. I was so uniformly fortunate also in the many duels -in which I was involved among the less favoured—through the kindness -which the fair ladies of Vienna and Bude began to show to _le beau -Jennico_ (the old dictum had been revived in my favour)—that after -disabling four of my newly-found “best friends,” even so piquant an -entertainment lost all pretence of excitement. - -And with the progress of disillusion concerning the pleasure of -idleness in wealth, grew more pressing the still small voice which -murmured at my ear that it was not for such an end, not for the -gratification of a mere libertine, gambler, and duellist, that my -great-uncle Jennico had selected me as the depositary of his wealth and -position. - -“Sell and settle, sell and settle.” The old man’s words had long enough -been forgotten. It was high time to begin mastering the intricacies -of that vast estate, if ever I was to turn it to the profit of that -stream of noble Jennicos to come. And in my state of satiety the very -remoteness of my new property, its savageness, its proud isolation, -invested it with an odd fascination. From one day to the other I -determined on departure, and left the emptiness of the crowd to seek -the fulness of this wild and beautiful country. - -Here for a time I tasted interest in life again; knew a sort -of well-filled peace; felt my soul expand with renewed vigour, -keenness for work and deeds, hope and healthy desire, self-pride -and satisfaction. Then came the foolish adventure which has left me -naked and weak in the very midst of my wealth and power; which has -left rudderless an existence that had set sail so gaily for glorious -happiness. - - * * * * * - -The bell of the horologe, from its snow-capped turret overlooking the -gate of honour in the stronghold of Tollendhal, slowly tolled the tenth -hour of that tempestuous night; and the notes resounded in the room, -now strongly vibrating, now faint and distant, as the wind paused for -a second, or bore them away upon its dishevelled wing. Upon the last -stroke, as Basil Jennico was running over the last page of his fair -paper, the door behind him, creaking on its hinges, was thrown open by -János, the heiduck, displaying in the next chamber a wide table, lit by -two six-branched chandeliers and laid for the evening meal. The twelve -yellow tongues of flame glinted on the silver, the cut glass, and the -snow-white napery, but only to emphasise the sombre depth of the -mediæval room, the desolate eloquence of that solitary seat at the huge -board. János waited till his master, with weary gesture, had cast his -pen aside, and then ceremoniously announced that his lordship’s supper -was ready. - -Impatiently enough did the young man dip his fingers in the aiguière of -perfumed water that a damsel on his right offered to him as he passed -through the great doors, drying them on the cloth handed by another -on his left. Frowning he sat him down in his high-backed chair behind -which the heiduck stood ready to present each dish as it was brought up -by other menials, to keep the beaker constantly filled, to answer with -a bow any observation that he might make, should the lord feel disposed -to break silence. - -But to-night the Lord of Tollendhal was less disposed than ever in such -a direction. He chafed at the long ceremony; resented the presence of -these creatures who had seen her sit as their mistress at that table, -where now lay nought but vacancy beyond the white cloth; resented even -the silent solicitude that lurked in János’s eyes, though the latter -never broke unauthorised his rule of silence. - -The generous wine, in the stillness and the black solitude, bred -presently a yet deeper melancholy. After a perfunctory meal the young -man waved aside a last glass of the amber Tokay that was placed at his -hand, rose, and moodily walked to and fro for some time. Feeling that -the coming hours had no sleep in reserve for a mind in such turmoil as -his, he returned to his writing-table, and, whilst János directed the -servants to bring in and trim fresh candles, and pile more logs upon -the hearth, Basil Jennico resumed his task. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -BASIL JENNICO’S MEMOIR CONTINUED - - -MY great-uncle’s will, forcible, concise, indisputable as it was, -had been (so the man of law informed me) drawn out in a great hurry, -dictated, indeed, between spasms of agony and rage. (The poor old man -died of gout in his stomach.) Doubtless, had he felt sure of more -time, he would have burdened the inheritance with many directions and -conditions. - -From his broken utterances, however, and from what I had known of him -in life, I gathered a fair idea of what his wishes were. His fifty -years of foreign service had filled him, old pandour that he seemed to -have become, with but increased contempt for the people that surrounded -him, their ways and customs, while his pride as an Englishman was only -equalled by his pride as a Jennico. - -“Sell and settle....” - -The meaning of the words was clear in the light of the man as I knew -him. I was to sell the great property, carry to England the vast hoard -of foreign wealth, marry as befitted one of the race, and raise a -new and splendid line of Jennicos, to the utter mortification, and -everlasting confusion, of the degenerate head of the house. - -Now, though I knew it to be in me, and felt it, indeed, not otherwise -possible, to live my life as true a Jennico as even my uncle could -desire, I by no means deemed it incumbent upon me to set to work and -carry out his plans without first employing my liberty and wealth as -the humour prompted me. Nor was the old country an overpoweringly -attractive place for a young man of my creed and kidney. In Vienna I -was, perhaps, for the moment, the most noted figure—the guest most -sought after that year. In England, at daggers drawn with my brother, I -could only play an everyday part in an unpopular social minority. - -It was in full summer weather that, as I have written, already tried by -the first stage of my career of wealth, I came to take possession of my -landed estates. The beauty and wildness of the scenery, the strangeness -of the life in the well-nigh princely position to which this sudden -turn of fortune’s wheel had elevated me, the intoxicating sensation of -holding sway, as feudal lord of these wide tracts of hill and plain, -over so many hundreds of lives—above all, the wholesome reaction -brought about by solitude and communion with nature after the turmoil -of the last months—in short, everything around me and in me made me -less inclined than ever to begin ridding myself of so fair a possession. - -And do I wish I had not thus delayed in obeying the injunction that -accompanied the bequest? Odds my life! I am a miserable dog this day -through my disobedience; and yet, would I now undo the past if I could? -A thousand times no! I hate my folly, but hug it, ever closer, ever -dearer. The bitter savour of that incomprehensible yearning clings to -the place: I would not exchange it for the tameness of peace. Weakling -that I am, I would not obliterate, if I could, the memory of those -brief, brief days of which I failed to know the price, until the -perversity of fate cut their thread for ever—ay, perhaps for ever, -after all! And yet, if so, it were wiser to quit these haunted walls -for ever also. But, God! how meagre and livid looks wisdom, the ghost, -by the side of love’s warm and living line! - -And now, on! Since I have put my hand to the task, undertaken to set -forth and make clear the actual condition of that vacillating puppet, -the new-fledged Lord of Tollendhal, I will not draw it back, cost me -what pain it may. - -No doubt it was this haunting pride of wealth, waxing every day -stronger, even as the pride of birth which my great-uncle had fostered -to such good purpose, the overweening conceit which they bred within -me, that fogged my better judgment and brought me to this pass. And no -doubt, likewise, it is a princely estate that these lords of Tollendhal -of old carved for themselves, and rounded ever wider and nurtured—all -that it should some day, passing through the distaff, come to swell the -pride of Suffolk Jennicos! - -My castle rises boldly on the northernmost spur of the Glatzer Mounts, -and defiantly overlooks the marches of three kingdoms. Its lands and -dependencies, though chiefly Moravian, extend over the Bohemian border -as well as into that Silesia they now are able to call Prussian. North -and west it is flanked by woods that grow wilder, denser, as they -spread inwards towards the Giant Mountains. On the southern slopes are -my vineyards, growths of note, as I hear. My territories reach, on the -one hand, farther than can be seen under the blue horizon, into the -Eastern plains, flat and rich, that stretch with curious suddenness -immediately at the foot of the high district; upon the other hand, on -the Moravian side, I doubt whether even my head steward himself knows -exactly how much of the timber-laden hill-ranges can be claimed as -appertaining to the estate. All the peaks I can descry in a fine day -from these casements are mine, I believe; on their flanks are forests -as rich in game—boar and buck, wolf and bear, not to speak of lesser -quarry—as are the plains below in corn and maize and cattle—_que -sais-je?_ A goodly heritage indeed! - -I promised myself many a rare day’s sport so soon as the time waxed -ripe. Meanwhile, my days were spent in rambles over the land, under -pretence of making acquaintance with the farms and the villages, and -the population living on the soil and working out its wealth for my -use, but in reality for the enjoyment of delicious sylvan and rustic -idleness through which the memory of recent Viennese dissipations was -like that of a fevered dream. - -The spirit of my country-keeping ancestors lived again within me and -was satisfied. Yet there were times, too, when this freedom of fancy -became loneliness—when my eyes tired of green trees, and my ears -hungered for the voice of some human being whom I could meet as an -equal, with whom I could consort, soul and wit. Then I would resolve -that, come the autumn, I would fill the frowning stronghouse with a -rousing throng of gallant hunters and fair women such as it had never -seen before. Ay, and they should come over, even from old England, to -taste of the Jennico hospitality! - -It was in one of these glorious moods that, upon a September day, -sultry as summer, although there was a touch of autumn decay in the -air as well as in the tints around me, I sallied forth, after noon, -to tramp on foot an as yet unexplored quarter of my domain. I had -donned, according to my wont (as being more suitable to the roughness -of the paths than the smallclothes, skirted coats, high heels and -cocked hat of Viennese fashion), the dress of the Moravian peasant—I -gather that it pleases the people’s heart to see their seigneur grace -their national garb on occasions. There was a goodly store of such -costumes among the cupboards full of hereditary habiliments and furs -preserved at Tollendhal, after the fashion of the country, with the -care that English housewives bestow upon their stores of linen. My -peasant suit was, of course, fine of cloth and natty of cut, and the -symmetry of the handsome figure I saw in my glass reminded me more of -the pastoral disguises that were the courtly fashion of some years -back than of our half-savage ill-smelling boors. Thus it was pleasant -as well as comfortable to wear, and at that time even so trifling a -sensation of gratified vanity had its price. But, although thus freed -of the incumbrance of a gentleman’s attire, I could not shake off the -watchful tyranny of János, the solemn heiduck who never allowed me to -stir abroad at all without his escort, nor, indeed (if my whim took me -far afield), without the further retinue of two jägers, twin brothers, -and faithful beyond a doubt. These, carbine on shoulder, and hanger on -thigh, had their orders to follow their lord through thick and thin, -and keep within sight and sound of whistle. - -In such odd style of state, on this day, destined to begin for me -a new chapter in life, I took my course; and for a long hour or so -walked along the rocky cornice that overhangs the plains. The land -looked bare and wide and solitary, the fields lay in sallow leanness -bereft of waving crops, but I knew that all my golden grain was stacked -safely in the heart of the earth, where these folk hoard its fruits -for safety from fire. The air was so empty of human sounds, save the -monotonous tramp of my escort behind me, that all the murmurs of wind -and foliage struck with singular loudness upon my ear. Over night, -there had, by my leave, been songs and dancing in the courtyard of -Tollendhal, and the odd tunes, the capricious rhythm of the gipsy -musicians, came back upon me as I walked in the midst of my thoughts. -These melodies are fitful and plaintive as the sounds of nature itself, -they come hurrying and slackening, rising and falling, with as true a -harmony and as unmeasured a measure,—now in a very passion of haste, -and now with a dreamy long-drawn sigh. I was thinking on this, and on -the love of the Empress for that music (my Empress that had been when -I wore her uniform, ay, and my Empress still so long as I retain these -noble lands), when I came to a field, sloping from the crag towards -the plain, where an aftermath of grass had been left to dry. There -was a little belt of trees, which threw a grateful shade; and feeling -something weary I flung me down on the scented hay. It was on the -Silesian portion of my land. Against the horizon, the white and brown -of some townlet, clustering round the ace-of-club-shaped roof of its -church-tower, rose glittering above the blue haze. A little beyond the -field ran a white road. So I reclined, looking vaguely into the unknown -but inviting distance, musing on the extent of those possessions so -wide-spread that I had not as yet been able to ride all their marches, -ever and anon recognising vaguely in the voice of the breeze through -the foliage an echo of the music that had been haunting my thoughts -all day. Everything conspired to bring me pleasant fancies. I began -to dream of past scenes and future fortunes, smiling at the thought -of what my dashing friends would say if they saw _le beau Jennico_ in -this bucolic attitude, wondering if any of my Court acquaintances would -recognise him in his peasant garb. - -Ah me, how eternally and lovingly I thought of my proud and brilliant -self then!... - -I cannot recall how soon this musing became deep sleep, but sleep -I did and dream—a singular, vivid dream, which was in a manner a -continuation of my waking thoughts. I seemed to be at a great _fête_ at -the Imperial Palace, one of the countless throng of guests. The lights -were brilliant, blinding, but I saw many faces I knew, and we all were -waiting most eagerly for some wonderful event. No one was speaking, and -the only sounds were the rustling and brushing of the ladies’ brocades -and the jingle of the officers’ spurs, with over and above the wail -of the czimbalom. All at once I knew, as we do in dreams, what we -were expecting, and why this splendid feast had been prepared. Marie -Antoinette, the fair young Dauphine of France, the memory of whose -grace still hangs about the Court, had come back to visit her own -country. The crowd grew closer and closer. The crowd about me surged -forward to catch a glimpse of her as she passed, and I with the rest, -when suddenly my great-uncle stood before me, immensely bestarred and -beribboned in his field-marshal’s uniform, and with the black patch on -his eye so black that it quite dazzled me. - -“Na, Kerlchen,” he was saying to me, “thou hast luck! Her Imperial and -Royal Highness has chosen the young Jennico to dance with ... as the -old one is too old.” - -Now I, in common with the young men about me, have grown to cherish -since my coming to this land a strange enthusiasm for the most womanly -and beautiful of all the Empress’s daughters, and therefore, even in my -dream, my heart began to beat very fast, and I scarce knew which way -to turn. I was much troubled too by the music, which went on always -louder and quicker above my head, somewhere in the air, for I knew -that no such things as country dances are danced at Court, and that I -myself would make but a poor figure in such; yet a peasant dance it -undoubtedly was. Next, my uncle was gone, and though I could not see -her, I knew the Princess was coming by the swish of her skirt as she -walked. I heard her voice as clear as a silver bell. “_Où est-il?_” -it said, and I felt she was looking for me. I struggled in vain to -answer or turn to her, and the voice cried again: “_Où est-il?_” upon -which another voice with a quaver in its tones made reply: “_Par ici, -Altesse!_” - -The sound must have been very close to me, for it startled me from my -deep sleep into, as it were, an outer court of dreams. And between -slumber and consciousness I became aware that I was lying somewhere -very hot and comfortable; that, while some irresistible power kept -my eyes closed, my ears were not so, and I could hear the two voices -talking together; and, in my wandering brain believed them still to -belong to the Princess Marie Antoinette and her attendant. - -“It is a peasant,” said the first voice: that was the Princess of -course. There was something of scorn in the tone, and I became acutely -and unpleasantly conscious of my red embroidered shirt. But the other -made answer: “He is handsome,” and then: “His hands are not those of a -peasant,” and, “_Regardez ma chère_; peasants do not wear such jewelled -watches!” A sudden shadow fell over me and was gone in an instant. -There was a flicker of laughter and I sat up. - -During my sleep the shade of the sun had shifted and I lay in the full -glare, and so, as I opened my eyes, I could see nothing. - -I heard the laughter of my dream again, and I knew that the mocking cry -of “_Prenez garde, Altesse!_” that still rang in the air did not belong -to my sleep. But as I rubbed my eyes and looked out once again, I -caught first a glimpse of a slender creature bending over me, outlined -it seemed in fire and shimmering between black and gold. My next glance -filled me with a woeful disappointment, for I declare, what with my -dream and my odd awakening, I expected to find before me a beauty no -less bewitching than that of her Royal Highness herself. What I beheld -was but a slim slip of a creature who, from the tip of her somewhat -battered shepherdess hat to the hem of her loosely hanging skirts, gave -me an impression of being all yellow, save for the dark cloud of her -hair. Her skin seemed golden yellow like old ivory, her eyes seemed to -shoot yellow sparks, her gown was yellow as any primrose. As she bent -to watch me, her lip was arched into a smile; it had a deep dimple on -the left side. Thus I saw her in a sort of flash and scrambled to my -feet still half drunk with drowsiness, crying out like a fool: - -“_Où est son Altesse? Où est son Altesse?_” - -She clapped her hands and turned with a crow of laughter to some one -behind me. And then I became aware that, as in the dream, there were -two. I also turned. - -My eyes were in their normal state again, but for a moment I thought -myself still wandering. Here was her Highness. A Princess, indeed, as -beautiful as any vision and yet most exquisitely embodied in the flesh; -a Princess in this wilderness! It seemed a thing impossible, and yet my -eyes now only corroborated the evidence of my ears. - -I marked, almost without knowing, the rope of pearls that bound her -throat (I had become a judge of jewels by being the possessor of -so many). I marked her garments, garments, for all their intended -simplicity, rich, and bearing to my not untutored observation the -latest stamp of fashion. But above all I marked her air of race, her -countenance, young with the first bloom of youth, mantled with blushes -yet set with a royal dignity. - -I have, since that eventful day, passed through so many phases of -feeling, sweet and violent, my present sentiments are so fantastically -disturbed, that I must try to the last of this writing and see matters -still as I saw them at the time. Yes, beyond doubt what I noticed -most, what appealed to me most deeply then, was the great air of race -blended and softened by womanly candour and grace. She looked at me -gravely, with wide brown eyes, and I stumbled into my best courtly bow. - -“He wants to know,” said the damsel of the yellow skirts, this time in -German, the clear, clean utterance of which had nothing of the broad -Austrian sounds I was accustomed to hear—“he wants to know ’where is -the Highness?’ But he seems to have guessed where she stands, without -the telling. Truly ’tis a pity the Lord Chamberlain is not at his post -to make a presentation in due form!” - -The lady thus addressed took a step towards her companion, with what -seemed a protest on her lip. But the latter, her small face quivering -with mischief and eagerness, whispered something in her ear, and the -beautiful brown eyes fixed themselves once again smilingly on me. - -“Know, sir,” continued the speaker then, “since you are so indiscreet -as to wake at the wrong moment, and surprise an incognito, the -mysteries of which were certainly not meant for such as you, that -Altesse she is. _Son Altesse Sérénissime la Princesse Marie Ottilie._ -Marie is her Highness’s first name, and Ottilie is her Highness’s last -name. And between the two and after those two, being as I said an -Altesse Sérénissime, she has of course a dozen other names; but more -than this it does not suit her Highness that you should know. Now if -you will do me, a humble attendant that I am, the courtesy to state -who you are, who, in a Silesian boor’s attire, speak French and wear -diamond watches to your belt, I can proceed with the introduction, even -in the absence of the Lord Chamberlain.” - -The minx had an easy assurance of manner which could only have been -bred at Court. Her mistress listened to her with what seemed a tolerant -affection. - -Looking round, bewildered and awkwardly conscious of my peasant dress, -I beheld my two chasseurs, standing stolidly sentinel on the exact spot -where I had last seen them before dropping asleep. Old János, from a -nearer distance, watched us suspiciously. As I thus looked round I -became aware of a new feature in the landscape—a ponderous coach also -attended by two chasseurs in unknown uniforms waiting some hundred -paces off, down the road. - -To keep myself something in countenance despite my incongruous garb -(and also perchance for the little meanness that I was not displeased -to show this Princess that I too kept a state of my own), I lifted my -hand and beckoned to my retinue, which instantly advanced and halted in -a rank with rigid precision five paces behind me. - -“Gracious madam,” said I in German, bowing to her who had dubbed -herself the lady-in-waiting, with a touch, I flattered myself, of -her own light mockery of tone, “I shall indeed feel honoured if her -Serene Highness will deign to permit the presentation of so unimportant -a person as myself—in other words of Basil Jennico of Farringdon -Dane, in the county of Suffolk, in the Kingdom of Great Britain, -lately a captain in his Royal Imperial Majesty’s Moravian Regiment of -Chevau-Legers, now master of the Castle of Tollendhal, not far distant, -and lord of its domain.” Here, led by János, my three retainers saluted. - -I thought I saw in the Princess’s eyes that I had created a certain -impression, but my consequent complacency did not escape the notice of -the irrepressible lady-in-waiting. She promptly did her best to mar the -situation. - -“Fi donc,” she cried, in French, “we are at Court, Monsieur, and at the -Court of—at the Court of her Highness we are not such savages as to -perform introductions in German.” - -Then, drawing up her slight figure and composing her face into -preternatural gravity, she took two steps forward and another -sideways, accompanied by as many bows, and resting her hand at arm’s -length on the china head of her stick, with the most ridiculous -assumption of finikin importance and with a quavering voice which, -although I have never known him, I recognised instantly as the -Chamberlain’s, she announced: - -“Monsieur Basile Jean Nigaud de la Faridondaine, dans le comté où l’on -Suffoque, ... d’importance, au royaume de la Grande Bretagne, maître du -Castel des Fous, ici proche, et seigneur des alentours,—ahem!” - -Inwardly cursing the young woman’s buffoonery and the incredible -facility with which she had so instantly burlesqued an undoubtedly -impressive recital, I had no choice but to make my three bows with -what good grace I could muster. Whereupon, the Princess, still smiling -but with a somewhat puzzled air, made me a curtsey. As for the -lady-in-waiting, nothing abashed, she took an imaginary pinch of most -excellent snuff with a pretence of high satisfaction; then laughed -aloud and long, till my ears burned and her own dimple literally rioted. - -“And now, to complete the ceremony,” said she, as soon as she could -speak at all, “let me introduce the Court, represented to-day by -myself. Mademoiselle Marie Ottilie. Two Ottilies as you will perceive, -but easily explained, thus: Feu the Highest her Sérénissime’s -gracious ducal grandmother being an Ottilie and godmother to us -both—Mademoiselle Ottilie: the rest concerns you not. Well, Monsieur -de la Faridondaine, Capitaine et Seigneur, etc., etc.,—charmed to -have made your acquaintance. So far, so good. But ... these gentlemen? -Surely also nobles in disguise. Will you not continue the ceremony?” - -She waved a little sunburnt hand towards my immovable body-guard, and -the full absurdity of my position struck me with the keenest sense of -mortification. - -I looked back at the three, biting my lips, and miserably uncertain how -to conduct myself so as to save some shred of dignity. My ancient János -had seen too many strange things during his forty years’ attendance on -my great-uncle to betray the smallest surprise at the present singular -situation; but out of both their handsome faces, set like bronze,—they -had better not have moved a muscle otherwise or János would have known -the reason why,—the eyes of my twin attendants roamed from me to the -ladies, and from the ladies to me, with the most devouring curiosity. -I tartly dismissed them all again to a distance, and then, turning to -the mysterious Princess I begged to know, in my most courtlike manner -if I might presume to lay my services at her feet for the time of her -sojourn in this, my land. - -With the same adorable yet dignified bashfulness that I had -already noted in her, the lovely woman looked hesitatingly at her -lady-in-waiting, which lively wench, not being troubled with timidity -(as she had already sufficiently demonstrated), promptly took upon -herself to answer me. But this time she so delightfully fell in with my -own wishes that I was fain to forgive her all that had gone before. - -“But certainly,” she exclaimed, “her Serene Highness will condescend -to accept the services of M. de Jean Nigaud. It is not every day that -brings forth such romantic encounters. Know, sir, that we are two -damozels that have by the most extraordinary succession of fortunate -accidents escaped from school. You wonder? By school, I mean the -insupportable tedium, etiquette, and dulness of the Court of his most -gracious and worshipful Serenity the father of her Highness. We came -out this noon to make hay, and hay we will make. Or rather we shall sit -on the hay, and you shall make a throne for the Princess, and a little -tabouret for me, and then you may sit you down and entertain us ... -but on the ground, and at a respectful distance, that none may say -we do not observe proper forms and conventions, for all that we are -holiday-making. And you shall explain to us how you, an Englishman, -came to be master of Château des Fous, and masquerading in peasant’s -attire. Is masquerading a condition of tenure? After which, her Serene -Highness having only one fault, that being her angelic softness of -heart, which is pushed to the degree of absolute weakness, she will -permit me to narrate to you (as much as is good for you to know) -how we came to be here at such a distance from our own country, and -in such curious freedom—for her Highness quite sees that you are -rapidly becoming ill with suppressed curiosity, and fears that you may -otherwise burst with it on your way home to your great castle, or at -least that the pressure on the brain may seriously affect its delicate -balance—if indeed,” with a peal of her reckless childish laughter, -“you are not already a lunatic, and those your keepers!” - -This last piece of impudence might have proved even too much for my -desire to cultivate an acquaintance so extraordinarily attractive to -one of my turn of mind and so alluring by its mysteriousness, but that -I happened to catch a glance from her Highness’s eyes even as the -speaker finished her tirade, which glance, deprecating and at the same -time full of a kindly and gentle interest, set my heart to beat in a -curious fashion between pleasure and pain. I hastened therefore to obey -the younger lady’s behests, and began to gather together enough of the -sweet-smelling hay to form a throne for so noble and fair an occupant. - -Whereupon the little creature herself—she seemed little by reason -of her slenderness and childishness, but in truth she was as tall as -her tall and beautiful mistress—fell to helping me with such right -good-will, flashing upon me, as she flitted hither and thither, such -altogether innocently mocking looks from her yellow-hazel eyes, that -I should have been born with a deeper vanity, and a sourer temper, to -have kept a grudge against her. - -Once seated in our fragrant court, in the order laid down for us, the -attendant, so soon as she had recovered breath sufficient, began to ply -me with questions so multiplied, so searching, and so pointed, that -she very soon extracted from me every detail she wished to know about -myself, past and present. - -But although, as from a chartered and privileged advocate, the sharp -cross-questioning came from the Mademoiselle Marie Ottilie, it was -to the soft dumb inquiry I read in the Princess Marie Ottilie’s eyes -that were addressed my answers. And then those eyes and the listening -beauty of that gracious face, made it hard for me to realise, as later -reflection proved, that their owner did not utter a single word during -the whole time we sat there together. - - - - -CHAPTER III - - -I MIND me that when she had drawn from me all she had wanted to know, -the little lady’s pert tongue became still for a while, and that she -stretched her long young limbs and lay back upon her mound of hay with -the most absolute unconcern either of my presence or of the Princess’s, -gazing skyward with a sudden gravity in her look. As for me, I was -content to sit in silence too, glad of the quiet, because it gave me -leisure to taste the full zest of this fortunate and singular meeting. -I thought I had never seen a human being whom silence became so well as -the Princess Ottilie. Contrasted with the recklessness and chatter of -her companion her attitude struck me as the most perfectly dignified it -had ever been my lot to observe. - -Presently the nymph in yellow roused herself from her reverie, and sat -up, with her battered hat completely on one side and broken bits of -grass sticking in the tangled mass of her brown hair. She arched her -lip at me with her malicious smile, and addressed her companion. - -“Is it your Highness’s pleasure,” she asked, “that I should gratify -some of this young English nobleman’s curiosity concerning the -wandering of a Princess in so unprincely a fashion?” - -“Ach!” rebuked her Highness, on the wings of a soft sigh. The truth of -the girl’s assertion that her mistress’s kindness of heart amounted to -weakness, was very patent; the dependant was undoubtedly indulged to -the verge of impertinence, although it is also true that her manner -seemed to stop short of any open show of disrespect. - -“Now attention, please, Monsieur de la Faridondaine! His Most -Absolutely to be Revered and Most Gracious Serenity, father of her -Highness, reigns over a certain land, a great many leagues from here,” -she began, with all the gusto of one who revels in the sound of her own -voice. “Her Highness is his only daughter, and this August Person has -the condescension to feel for her some of those sentiments of paternal -affection which are common even to the lowest peasant. You have been -about Courts, Monsieur Jean Nigaud, the fact is patent and indubitable. -You can therefore realise the extent of such condescension. A little -while ago, moved by these sentiments, my gracious Sovereign believed -there was a paleness upon her Highness his daughter’s cheek.” - -Involuntarily I looked at the Princess, to see, with a curious elation, -how the rich colour rushed, under my gaze, yet more richly into her -face. - -“It does not appear now,” pursued the imperturbable speaker, whom no -blink of mine seemed to escape, “but there _was_ a paleness, and the -Court doctor decided there was likewise a trifling loss of tone and -want of strength. He recommended a change of air, tonic baths, and -grape cure. In consequence, after due deliberation and consultation, it -was decreed that her Highness should be sent to a certain region in the -mountains, where Höchst die Selbe has a grand, a most high, ducal aunt, -the said region being noted for its salubrious air, its baths, the -quality and extent of its vineyards. In company, therefore, of a few -indispensable court officials—the Lord Chamberlain (as a responsible -person for her Highness’s movements), the most gracious a certain aged -and high born Gräfin (our chief Court lady, once the Highness’s own -gouvernante), the second Court doctor, the third officier de bouche, -and mine own humble self——” - -Here she paused, and, with a sudden assumption of dolefulness that was -certainly comic, proceeded in quite another voice: - -“I am a person of no consequence at Court, Monsieur de la -Faridondaine. I am merely tolerated because of her Highness’s goodness, -and also because, you must know, that I have a reputation of being a -source of amusement to her Serenity. You may already have noticed that -it is fairly well founded that I am talkative and entertaining, as a -lady-in-waiting should be, and this is the reason why I have attained a -position to which my birth does not entitle me.” - -A little frown came across the Princess’s smooth brow at these words. -She shot a look of deprecation at her attendant, but the latter went -on, resuming her former manner, in a bubbling of merriment: - -“Facts are facts, you see—I am even hardly _born_. My mother happened -to be liked by the mother of her Serene Highness—an angel—and when -I was orphaned she took me closer to her. So we grew up together, her -Highness and I, and so I come to be in so grand a place as a Court. -There, Monsieur, you have in a word the history of Mademoiselle Marie -Ottilie. I have no wish that she should ever seem to have appeared -under false colours.” - -The Princess, whose sensitive blood had again risen to a crimson tide, -cast a very uneasy look at her companion. I could see how much her -affectionate delicacy was wounded by this unnecessary candour. - -But little mademoiselle, after returning the glance with one as -mischievous and unfeeling as a jackdaw’s, continued, hugging her knees -with every appearance of enjoyment: - -“And now we come to the series of delightful accidents which brought -us here. Behold! no sooner had we left the Court of—the Court her -Highness belongs to—than the smallpox broke out in the Residenz and in -the palace itself. The father of her Serenity had had it; there was no -danger for _him_, and he was in the act of congratulating himself upon -having sent the Princess out of the way, when, in the most charming -manner (for the Ducal Court of her Highness’s aunt was even duller -than Höchst die Selbe’s own, and after the tenth bunch of grapes you -get rather tired of a grape cure, and as for mud baths—oh fie, the -horror!), we discovered that we had brought the pretty illness with us. -And first one and then the other of the retinue sickened and fell ill. -Then a Court lady of the Duchess took it, and next who should develop -symptoms but the old growl-bear and scratch-cat, our own chief Hofdame, -chief duenna, and chief bore. That was a stroke of fortune, you must -admit! But wait a moment, you have not heard the best of it yet.” - -At the very first mention of the smallpox the Princess grew pale, and -made the sign of the cross. And indeed it seemed to me, myself, a -tempting of Providence to joke thus lightly about a malady so dangerous -to life and so fatal to looks. But the girl proceeded coolly: - -“Her Serene Highness, like her most venerated brother, had had the -disease; I believe they underwent it together in their Serene Babyhood. -But her Serene Highness was deeply alarmed by the danger to which her -Serene niece was exposed. The Court doctor was no less concerned—it -is a bad thing for a Court doctor if a princess in his charge fall a -victim to an epidemic—so they put their heads together and resolved -to send the exalted young lady into some safer region, in company of -such of her retinue as seemed in the soundest health. An aged lady, -mother of M. de Schreckendorf, our Chamberlain already described to -you, dwells in these plains. As a matter of fact,” said the speaker, -pointing a small finger in the direction of the town, “her castle -is yonder. The Duchess had once condescended to spend a night there -to break a journey, and it had remained stamped on her ducal memory -that the place was quiet,—not to say a desert,—that there were -vineyards close by, and also that the air was particularly salubrious. -She knew, too, that the Countess Schreckendorf was quite equal to the -guarding of any youthful Serenity, in short, a dragon of etiquette, -narrow-mindedness, prudery, and ugliness. Together, therefore, with the -Chamberlain, a few women, and the poor doctor, we were packed into a -ducal chariot, and carted here, the Countess receiving the strictest -orders not to divulge the tremendous altitude of her visitor’s rank. -She would die rather than betray the trust,—especially as to thwart -innocent impulses is one of her chief pleasures, nay, I may say her -only pleasure in life. Little does she or the Highness her mistress -suspect the existence of a Seigneur de la Faridondaine, roaming about -in the guise of a simple Silesian shepherd and pretending to sleep in -order to surprise the little secrets of wandering princesses! We were -told, when we asked whether there was no neighbourly creature within -reach, that the only one for leagues was a fearful old man with one eye -and one tooth, who goes about using his cane as freely on every one’s -shoulders as the Prussian king himself. Well, never mind, don’t speak, -I have yet the cream of the tale to offer! We arrived here three weeks -ago and found the grapes no more spicy, the castle no more amusing, -and the neighbourhood more boring than even the ducal Court itself. But -one excellent day, the good little Chamberlain began to look poorly, -complained of his poor little head, and retired to his room. The next -morning what does the doctor do, but pack _him_ into a coach and drive -away with him like a fury. Neither coach, nor postillions, nor doctor, -nor Chamberlain, have been seen or heard of since! But I, who am -awake with the birds, from my chamber window saw them go—for I heard -the clatter in the courtyard, and by nature, M. the Captain, I am as -curious as a magpie.” - -“Oh, that,” said I with conviction, “you need not tell me!” - -She seemed vastly tickled by the frankness of this my first observation -after such long listening, and had to throw herself back on the hay, -and laugh her laugh out, before she could sit up again and continue: - -“So, as I was saying, I saw the departure. The doctor looked livid with -fright, and as for the Herr Chamberlain, he was muffled up in blankets -and coats, but I got a glimpse of his face for all that, and _it was -spotted all over with great red spots_!” - -The Princess pushed her hat off her forehead, and turned upon her -lady-in-waiting a face that had grown almost livid. - -“Pooh!” said the lady-in-waiting; “your Highness is over-nervous; ’tis -now a good fortnight since the old gentleman left us, and if you or I -were to have had it we should have shown symptoms long ago. Well, sir, -to continue: our worthy hostess the Countess was in a fine fume, as -you can fancy, between duty and natural affection, terror and anxiety. -She was by way of keeping the whole matter a dead secret both from us -and from the servants; but the fumigations she set going in the house, -the airing, the dosing, together with her own frantic demeanour, would -have been enough to enlighten even obtuser wits than ours. With one -exception all our servants fled, and all hers. She had to replace -them from a distance. The anger, the responsibility, the agitation -generally, were too much for her years and constitution; and three -days ago—in the act (as we discovered) of writing to the Duchess for -instructions, for she had expected the Court doctor would have sent -on special messengers to the courts of her Highness’s relatives, and -was in a perfect fever at receiving no news—as I say, in the very act -of writing evidently to despatch another post herself, the poor old -lady was struck with paralysis, and was carried speechless to bed. -Now, Monsieur Jean Nigaud, you English are a practical race. Do you -not agree with me that since the Lord, in His wisdom, decreed that it -was good for the Countess’s soul to have a little physical affliction, -it could not have happened at a better moment for us? I know that her -Highness disapproves of what she calls my heartlessness, but I cannot -but rejoice in our freedom. - -“The Countess is recovering, but she won’t speak plain for a long -time to come. Meanwhile we are free—free as air! Our only personal -attendant is my own—my old nurse. You shall see her. She speaks but -little, but she adores me. But as we cannot understand a word of the -language spoken here, and the resources of this district are few, I -will own to you, her Highness has found it a little dull, in spite of -her lady-in-waiting’s well-known gift of entertainment, up to to-day.” - -She threw me an arch look as she spoke, but the Princess, rising with -the dignity peculiar to her, conveyed her sense that the joke had this -time been carried a little too far. - -The shadows were lengthening, the wind had fallen, it was an hour of -great peace and beauty in the land. The Princess took a few steps -towards the road where waited the carriage; I ran forward and presumed -to offer her my arm, which she very graciously, but not without a -blush, accepted. The maid of honour, springing to her feet, followed -us, tripping over the rough ground, with a torn frock and her hat -hanging on her neck by its ribbons. I mind me well how the chasseurs -of the equipage stared to see their lady come leaning on the arm of a -peasant. How they stared, too, at the unabashed, untidy apparition of -the lady-in-waiting! But she, humming a little song as she went, seemed -the last in the world to care what impression she made. - -As we neared the coach, a tall woman all in black, with a black shawl -over her black hair, jet-black eyes, staring blankly out of a swarthy -face, descended from it. She looked altogether so dark and forbidding -a vision that I gave a start when I saw her thus unexpectedly. She -seemed a sort of blot on the whole smiling, sunny landscape. But as -Mademoiselle Ottilie drew near, the woman turned to her, her whole face -breaking pleasantly into a very eloquence of silent, eager love. - -Of course I guessed at once that this was the nurse to whom the saucy -maiden had already referred. I heard them whisper to each other (and -it seemed to me as if the woman were remonstrating with her mistress) -while I installed the Princess on her cushions. Then both rejoined us -to enter the carriage likewise. Before she jumped in, Mademoiselle -Ottilie tapped her nurse on the shoulder with the sort of indifferent, -kind little pat one would bestow on a dog. The woman caught the -careless hand and kissed it, and her eyes as she looked after the -girl’s figure were absolutely adoring; but her whole countenance again -clouded over strangely when her glance fell upon us. At length they all -three were seated, and my graceful retirement was clearly expected. But -still I lingered. - -“The vintage had begun in my vineyards,” quoth I hesitatingly; “if her -Highness would honour me by coming again upon my lands, the sight might -interest her.” - -The Princess hesitated, and then, evidently doubtful as to the -propriety of the step, threw a questioning glance at her companion. - -“But certainly,” said the latter instantly, “why not accept? Your -Highness has been advised to keep in the open air as much as possible, -and your Highness has likewise been recommended innocent diversion: -nothing could be better. When shall we say?” - -“If to-morrow would suit,” I suggested boldly, “I could ride over after -noon, if her Highness would permit me to be her escort. And perhaps she -will also further honour me by accepting some slight refreshment at my -castle. It is worth seeing,” I said, for I saw no reason why I should -be bashful in pushing my advantages, “if your Highness is not afraid -to enter Le Château des Fous?” I ventured to look deep into her eyes -as I spoke, and I remember how those eyes wavered shyly from my gaze, -and how the white lids fell over them. And I remember, too, with what a -sudden mad exultation leaped my heart. - -But, as before, it was the lady-in-waiting who answered. - -“Afraid! who is afraid? Your Highness, will you not comfort the poor -young man and tell him you are not afraid?” - -“If your Highness would deign,” said I, pleadingly, and leaning forward -into the carriage. - -And then she looked at me, and said to me in the sweetest guttural in -all the world, “No, I am not afraid.” - -We were speaking French. I bowed low, fearing to spoil it all by -another word. The Princess stretched out her hand and I kissed the -back of her glove, and then I had the privilege of also kissing Miss -Ottilie’s sunburnt, scratched, and rather grimy bare little paw, which -she, with affected dignity, thrust forward for my salute. - -The carriage drove away, and as it went I mind me how the nurse looked -after me with a darkling anxiety, and also how as I stalked homewards -through the evening glow, with my body-guard tramping steadily behind -me, I kept recalling the sound of the four gracious words with which -the Princess had consented to accept of my hospitality. - -She had said, it is true, “_Che n’ai bas beur_,” but none the less was -the memory a delicate delight to my heart the whole night through. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - - -I HAD questioned János on our homeward way concerning my new -acquaintances; but the fellow was so ill-disposed by nature to external -gossip, so wholly occupied with the minute fulfilment of his daily -task, which was to watch over the well-being and safety of his master, -that he had gathered no acquaintance with affairs outside his province. -With the head factor, however, whom I sent for immediately after -supper, I was more fortunate. This man, Karl Schultz, is Saxon-born, -and consequently one of the few of my numerous dependants with whom I -can hold converse here. It was but natural that among the peasantry -the advent of strangers, evidently of wealth and distinction, should -have created some stir, and it is Schultz’s business, among many other -things, to know what the peasantry talk about; although in this more -contented part of the world this sort of knowledge is not of such -importance as among our neighbours the Poles. Schultz, therefore, was -aware of the arrival of the ladies, likewise of the rumour of smallpox, -which had, so he informed me, not only driven all the servants out of -the Castle of Schreckendorf, but spread something like a panic over the -country-side. Tidings had also come to his ears that two gentlemen—one -of them suffering from the dreadful malady (doubtless the poor -Chamberlain)—had been abandoned in their carriage by their postillions -and servants at the small village of Kittlitz, some forty miles from -here, just over the Lusatian border. He corroborated, in fact, greatly -to my joy, all that I had been told; for I had had an uneasy fear -upon me, now and again, as I marched home in the evening chill, that -I had been too ready to lend credence to a romantic and improbable -story. But, better than all, Schultz, having felt a special curiosity -concerning visitors from his own country, had, despite the attempt to -keep the matter secret, contrived to satisfy himself to the full as to -their identity. And thus did I, to my no small triumph, from the first -day easily penetrate the ill-guarded incognita. - -The beautiful wandering Princess was the only daughter of the old -reigning house of Lausitz-Rothenburg; and it was from Georgenbrunn, -where she had been on a visit to her aunt the Dowager Duchess of -Saxony, that the second outbreak of the epidemic had driven her to -take refuge with the Countess Schreckendorf in our neighbourhood. - -Vastly satisfied with my discovery, and not a little fluttered by the -impending honour, I made elaborate preparations the next day against -the coming of such guests. We rifled the gardens, the greenhouses, and -the storerooms, and contrived a collation the elegance of which taxed -our resources to the uttermost. - -Not in peasant garb did I start at noon upon my romantic quest, but -in my finest riding suit of mulberry cloth embroidered with green and -silver, (of what good auguries did I not think when I remembered that -green and white were actually the colours of the Maison de Lusace, and -that in this discreet manner I could wear on my sleeve the mark of a -delicate homage?), ruffles of finest Mechlin fluttered on my throat and -wrists, and a hat of the very latest cock was disposed jauntily at the -exact angle prescribed by the Vienna mode. - -With my trim fellows behind me, and with as perfect a piece of -horseflesh between my knees as the Emperor himself could ever hope to -bestride, I set out in high delight and anticipation. - -Now, on this freezing winter’s night, when I look back upon those -days and the days that followed, it seems to me as though it were all -a dream. The past events are wrapped to memory in a kind of haze, -out of which certain hours marked above the rest stand out alone in -clearness.—That particular day stands forth perhaps the clearest of -all. - -I remember that the Princess Ottilie looked even more queenly to my -mind than at first, with her fair hair powdered and a patch upon the -satin whiteness of her chin. In the complacency of my young man’s -vanity, I was exceedingly elated that she should have considered -it worth while to adorn herself for me. I remember, too, that the -lady-in-waiting examined me critically, and cast a look of approval -upon my altered appearance; that she spoke less and that her mistress -spoke more than upon our first meeting; that even the presence, mute, -dark, and scowling, of their female attendant could not spoil the -pleasure of our intercourse. - -In the vineyards, it is true, an incident occurred which for a moment -threatened to mar my perfect satisfaction. The peasant girls—it is the -custom of the country on the appearance of strangers in the midst of -their work—gathered round each lady, surrounding her in wild dancing -bands, threatening in song to load her shoulders with a heavy hodful -of grapes unless she paid a ransom. It was of course most unseemly, -considering the quality of the company I was entertaining, and I had -not foreseen the possibility of such a breach of respect. Never before, -it was evident, in the delicately nurtured life of the Princess, had -such rough amusement been allowed to approach her. This being the -case, it was not astonishing that the admirable composure of her usual -attitude should break down—her dignity give way to the emotion of -fear. She called—nay, she screamed—to me for help. The while her -pert lady-in-waiting, no whit abashed, laughed back at her circle of -grinning sunburnt prancers, threw mocking good-humoured gibes at them -in German, and finally was sharp enough to draw her purse and pay -for her footing, crying out to her mistress to do the same. But the -latter was in no state to listen to advice, and, alas! I found myself -powerless to deliver the distressed lady. In my ignorance of their -language I could do nothing short of use brute force to control my -savages, who were after all (it seems) but acting in good faith upon an -old-established privilege. So I was fain, in my turn, to summon Schultz -to the rescue from a distant part of the ground. He, practical fellow, -made no bones about the matter; with a bellow and a knowing whirl of -his cane every stroke of which told with a dull thwack, he promptly -dispersed the indiscreet merrymakers. - -I suppose it is my English blood that rises within me at the sight of -a woman struck. Upon the impulse of the first moment I had well-nigh -wrenched the staff from his hands and laid it about his shoulders; -but fortunately, on second thought, I had wisdom enough to refrain -from an act which would have been so fatal to all future discipline. -Nevertheless, as I stood by, a passive spectator of it, the blood -mounted, for very shame, to my cheek, and I felt myself degraded to the -level of my administrator’s brutality. - -The poor fools fell apart, screaming between laughter and pain. -One handsome wench I marked, indeed, who withdrew to the side of a -sullen gipsy-looking fellow, her husband or lover apparently; and as -she muttered low in his ear they both cast looks charged with such -murderous import, not only at the uncompromising justiciary, but also -at me, and the man’s hand stole instinctively to his back with so -significant a gesture, that I realised for the first time quite fully -that there might be good reasons for János’s precautions anent the -lord’s precious person when the lord took his walks abroad. - -Another girl passed me close by, sobbing aloud, as she returned to her -labour. She rubbed her shoulder sorely, and the tears hopped off the -rim of her fat cheeks, contorted like those of a blubbering child. In -half-ashamed and sneaking fashion, yet unable to resist the urging of -my heart, I followed her behind the next row of vines and touched her -on the arm. - -She recognised me with a start, and I, all fearful of being noticed by -the others, in haste and without a word—as what word could I find in -which to communicate with a Slovack?—hastily dropped a consolatory -coin, the first that met my touch, into her palm. - -It was a poor plain creature with dull eyes, coarse lips, and matted -hair, and she gazed at me a moment stupidly bewildered. But the next -instant, reading I know not what of sympathy and benevolence in my -face, as a dog may read in his master’s eyes, she fell at my feet, -letting the gold slip out of her grasp that she might the better seize -my hand in hers and cover it with kisses, pouring forth the while a -litany of gratitude, as unintelligible to me as if she had been indeed -a dog whining at my feet. - -To put an end to the absurd situation, distasteful to my British -free-born pride for all my foreign training, I pushed her from me and -turned away, to find the lady-in-waiting at my elbow. - -Instead, however, of making my weakness a mark for her wit, this -latter, to my great relief, and likewise to my astonishment, looked -wistfully from the ugly besmeared face to the coin lying on the black -soil, then at my countenance, which at that moment was, I felt, that of -a detected schoolboy. And then, without a word, she followed me back to -her mistress’s side. - -My august visitor had not yet regained her wonted serenity. Still -fluttered, she showed me something of a pouting visage. I thought to -discern in her not only satisfaction at the punishment she had seen -administered, but some resentment at my passive attitude. And this, I -confess, surprised me in her, who seemed so gentle and womanly. But I -told myself then that it was but natural in one born as she was to a -throne. - -On the other hand, while I confounded myself in excuses and -explanations, blaming myself for having (through my inexperience of -this country) neglected to prevent the possibility of so untoward an -incident, I heard behind me the voice of the young Court lady, rating -Schultz in most explicit German for the heaviness of his hand upon my -folk. And, as the Princess gradually became mollified towards me and -showed me once again her own smiling graciousness, I contrasted her -little show of haughtiness with the unreserve of her companion, and -convinced myself that it did but become her (being what she was). The -while I watched Mademoiselle Ottilie, mingling with peasants as if she -had been born among them, with an ever renewed wonder that she should -have been chosen for the high position she occupied. - -Later on my guest, according to her promise, condescended to rest and -refresh herself in the castle. This was the culminating moment of a -golden afternoon. I felt the full pride of possession when I led her -in through the old halls that bore the mark of so many centuries of -noble masters; although indeed, as a Jennico, I had no inherited right -to peacock in the glories of the House of Tollendhal. But, at each -portrait before which she was gracious enough to halt, I took care to -speak of some notable contemporary among the men and women of my own -old line, in that distant enchanted island of the North, where the men -are so brave and strong and the women so fair. And, without stretching -any point, I am sure the line of Jennico lost nothing in the comparison. - -She was, I saw, beyond mistake impressed. I rejoiced to note that I -was rapidly becoming a person of importance in her eyes. Even the -lady-in-waiting continued to measure me with an altered and thoughtful -look. - -Between the eating of our meal together—which, as I said, was quite -a delicate little feast, and did honour to my barefooted kitchen -retinue—and the departure of my visitors, I took them through many -of the chambers, and showed them some of the treasures, quaint -antiquities, and relics that my great-uncle had inherited or himself -collected. On a little table under his picture—yonder on that wall -it hangs before me—I had spread forth in a glass case, with a sort -of tender and pious memory of the rigid old hero, his own personal -decorations and honours, from the first cross he had won in comparative -youth to the last blazing order that a royal hand had pinned over the -shrunken chest of the field-marshal. In this portrait, painted some -five years before his death, my uncle had insisted on appearing full -face, with a fine scorn of any palliation of the black patch or the -broken jaw. It is a grim enough presentment in consequence,—the artist -having evidently rather relished his task,—and sometimes, indeed, when -I am alone here in this great room at night, and it seems as if the -candle-light does but serve to heighten the gloom of the shadows, I -find my uncle’s one eye following me with so living a sternness that I -can scarce endure it. - -But that day of which I am writing, I thought there was benignity in -the fierce orb as it surveyed such honourable company, and even an -actual touch of geniality in the set of the black patch. - -As I opened the case, both the ladies fell, women-like, to fingering -the rich jewels. There was a snuff-box set around with diamonds, upon -the lid of which was painted a portrait of the Dauphine. This, Maria -Theresa had herself given to my uncle on the occasion of her daughter’s -marriage, to which it was deemed my uncle’s firm attitude in council -over the Franco-Austrian difficulty had not a little contributed. - -With a cry of admiration, the Princess took it up. “Ach, what -diamonds!” she said. I looked from the exquisite face on the ivory to -the no less exquisite countenance bending above it, and I was struck by -the resemblance which had no doubt unconsciously been haunting me ever -since I first met her. The arch of the dark eyebrow, the supercilious -droop of the eyelid, the curve of the short upper lip, and the pout of -the full under one, even the high poise of the head on the long throat, -were curiously similar. I exclaimed upon the coincidence, while the -Princess flushed with a sort of mingled pleasure and bashfulness. - -Mademoiselle Ottilie took up the miniature in her turn, and, after -gravely comparing it with her own elfish, sunburnt visage in the glass, -gazed at her mistress; then, heaving a lugubrious sigh, she assented -to my remarks, adding, however, that there was no ground for surprise, -as the Princess Marie Ottilie was actually cousin to her Royal Highness -the Dauphine. - -The Princess blushed again, and lifted up her hand as if to warn her -companion. But the latter, with her almost uncanny perspicacity, -continued, turning to me: - -“Of course, M. de Jennico” (she had at last mastered my name)—“of -course, M. de Jennico has found out all about us by this time, and is -perfectly aware of her Highness’s identity.” - -Then she added, and her eyes danced: - -“Since M. de Jennico is so fond of genealogy” (among the curiosities of -the place I had naturally shown them my uncle’s monumental pedigree), -“he can amuse himself in tracing the connection and relationships—no -doubt he has the ’Almanach de Gotha’—between the houses of Hapsburg -and the Catholic house of Lausitz-Rothenburg.” - -And indeed, although she meant this in sarcasm, when, after I had -escorted them home, I returned, through the mists and shades of -twilight, to my solitude (now peopled for me with delightful present, -and God knows what fantastic future, visions), I did produce that -excellent new book, the “Almanach de Gotha,” and found great interest -in tracing the blood-relation between the Dauphine and the fairest of -princesses. And afterwards, moved by some spirit of vainglory, I amused -myself by comparing on the map the relative sizes of the Duchy of -Lausitz and the lands of Tollendhal. - -And next I was moved to unroll once again my uncle’s pedigree, and to -study the fine chain of noble links of which I stand the last worthy -Jennico, when something that had been lying unformed in my mind during -these last hours of strange excitement suddenly took audacious and -definite shape. - - - - -CHAPTER V - - -WHAT first entered my brain as the wildest possibility grew rapidly -to a desire which possessed my whole being with absolute passion. The -situation was in itself so singular and tantalising, and the Princess -was so beautiful a woman, to be on these terms of delicious intimacy -with the daughter of one of Europe’s sovereigns (a little sovereign it -is true, but great by race and connection), to meet her constantly in -absolute defiance of all the laws of etiquette, yet to see her wear -through it all as unapproachable a dignity, as serene an aspect of -condescension, as though she were presiding at her father’s Court—it -was enough, surely, to have turned the head of a wiser man than myself! - -It was not long before Mademoiselle Ottilie, the lady-in-waiting, -discovered the secret madness of my thoughts—in the light of what -has since occurred I can truly call it so. And she it was who, for -purposes of her own, shovelled coals on the fire and fanned the flame. -One way or another, generally on her initiative, but always by her -arrangement, we three met, and met daily. - -On the evening of a day passed in their company, with the impression -strong upon me of the Princess’s farewell look, which had held, I -fancied, something different to its wont; with the knowledge that I -had, unrebuked, pressed and kissed that fair hand after a fashion more -daring than respectful, with my blood in a fever and my brain in a -whirl, now seeming sure of success, now coldly awake to my folly, I -bethought me of taking counsel again with my great-uncle’s pedigree. -And heartened by the proofs that the blood of Jennico was good enough -for any alliance, I fell to completing the document by bringing it -up to date as far as concerned myself. Now, when I in goodly black -letters had set down my own cognomen so fair upon the parchment, I was -further seized with the fancy to fill in the space left blank for my -future marriage; and I lightly traced in pencil, opposite the words -“Basil Jennico, Lord of Tollendhal,” the full titles and names, which -by this time I had studied till I knew them off by heart, of her Serene -Highness the Princess Marie Caroline Dorothée Josephine Charlotte -Ottilie of Lausitz. - -It made such a pretty show after all that had gone before, and it -brought such visions with it of the glories the name of Jennico might -yet rise to, that I could not find it in me to erase it again, and so -left it as it stood, telling myself, as I rolled up the great deed -again and hooked it in its place beneath my uncle’s portrait, that it -would not be my fault if the glorious entry did not remain there for -ever. - -The next time the ladies visited me, Mademoiselle Ottilie—flitting -like a little curious brown moth about the great room, dancing -pirouettes beneath my uncle’s portrait, and now and again pausing -to make a comical grimace at his forbidding countenance, while I -entertained her mistress at its further end—must needs be pricked by -the desire to study the important document, which I had, as I have -said, already submitted to her view. - -Struck by her sudden silence and stillness, I rose and crossed the -room to find her with the parchment rolled out before her, absorbed in -contemplation, her elbows on the table, her face leaning on her hands. -With a fierce rush of blood to my cheeks, in a confusion that set every -pulse throbbing, I attempted to withdraw from her the evidence of what -must seem the most impudent delusion. But she held tight with her -elbows, and then, disregarding my muttered explanation that I intended -to rub out at once the nonsense I had written in a moment of idleness, -she laid her small finger upon the place, and, looking at me gravely, -said: - -“Why not?” - -The whole room whirled round with me. - -“My God,” I cried, “don’t mock me!” - -But she, with a new ring of feeling in her voice, said earnestly: - -“She has such misery before her if her father carries out his will.” - -To hear these words from her, who of all others must be in her -mistress’s confidence, ought, however amazing to reason and common -sense, to have been a spur to one whose ambition soared so high. -Nevertheless, I hesitated. To be honest with myself, not from a lover’s -diffidence, from a lover’s dread of losing even hope, but rather from -the fear of placing myself in an absurd position—of risking the deadly -humiliation of a refusal. - -I dared therefore nothing but soft looks, soft words, soft pressures of -the hand; and the Princess received them all as she received everything -that had gone before. From one in her position this might seem of -itself encouragement enough in all conscience; but I waited in vain -for some break in her unruffled composure—some instant in which I -could mark that the Princess was lost in the woman. And so what drew -me most to her kept me back. At the same time a rooted distrust of the -little lady-in-waiting, a certain contempt, too, for her personality -as belonging to that roture so despised of my great-uncle and myself, -prevented me from placing confidence in her. - -But she, nevertheless, precipitated the climax. It was three days after -the scene in my great-uncle’s room, one Sunday morning, beside the -holy-water font in the little chapel of Schreckendorf Castle, whither, -upon the invitation of its present visitors—my own priest being ill, -poor man, of an ague—I had betaken myself to hear mass. The Princess -had passed out first, and had condescended, smiling, to brush the -pious drops from my finger; but Mademoiselle Ottilie paused as she too -touched with hers my outstretched hand, and said in my ear as crossly -as a spoilt child: - -“You are not a very ardent lover, M. de Jennico. The days are going by; -the Countess Schreckendorf is beginning to speak quite plain again. It -is impossible that her Highness should be left in this liberty much -longer.” - -I caught her hand as she would have hurried away. - -“If I could be sure that this is not some foolish jest,” I said in a -fierce whisper in her ear. - -And she to me back again as fiercely: - -“You are afraid!” she said with a curling lip. - -That settled it. - -I rode straight home, though I was expected to have joined the ladies -in some expedition. I spent the whole day in a most intolerable state -of agitation; and then, my mind made up, I sat down after supper to -write, beneath my uncle’s portrait. And the first half of the night -went by in writing and re-writing the letter which was to offer the -hand and heart of Basil Jennico to the Princess Marie Ottilie of -Lausitz. - -I wrote and tore up till the ground around me was strewn with the -fragments of paper; and now I seemed too bold, when the whole -incongruity and absurdity of my desire took tangible form to mock me in -the silence of the night; and now too humble, when in the flickering -glimmer of candle-light my great-uncle would frown down upon me, and I -could hear him say: - -“Remember that thou Jennico bist!” - -At last a letter lay before me by which I resolved to abide. I believe -that it was an odd mixture of consciousness of my own temerity in -aspiring so high, and at the same time of conviction that the house of -Jennico could only confer, and not receive, honour. I even proposed to -present myself boldly with my credentials at the Court of Lausitz (and -here of course the famous pedigree came in once more), and I modestly -added that, considering my wealth and connections, I ventured to hope -the Duke, her father, might favourably consider my pretensions. - -This written and sealed, I was able to sleep for the rest of the night, -but was awake again with dawn and counting the minutes until I could -decently despatch a mounted messenger to Schreckendorf. - -When the man rode forth I believe it was a little after eight; and I -know that it was on the stroke of one when I heard his horse’s hoofs -ringing again in the courtyard. But time had no measure for the strange -agony of doubt in which I passed those hours, not (once again have I to -admit it) because I loved her too dearly to bear the thought of life -without her, but because of my fierce pride, which would not brook the -shame of a refusal. - -I called in a frenzy to hurry the lagging fool into my presence; and -yet when he laid the letter on my table I stared at the great seal -without daring to open it. And when at last I did so my hand trembled -like an aspen leaf. - - “Monsieur de Jennico,” it began abruptly, “I ought to call you mad, - for what you propose is nothing less indeed than madness. You little - know the fetters that bind such lives as mine, and I could laugh and - weep together to think of what the Duke, my father, would say were you - really to present yourself before him as you suggest.” - -So it ran, and as I read I thought I was contemned, and in my fury -would have crushed the letter in my hand, when a word below caught my -eye, and with an intensity of joy on a par only with the passion of -wounded pride that had preceded it, I read on: - - “But, dear Monsieur de Jennico,” so ran the letter then, “since you - love me, and since you honour me by telling me so; since you offer me - so generously all you have to give, I will be honest with you and tell - you that my present life has no charm for me. I know only too well - what the future holds for me in my own home, and I am willing to trust - myself to you and to your promises rather than face the lot already - drawn for me. - - “Therefore, Monsieur de Jennico, if it be true that, as you say, all - your happiness depends upon my answer, I trust it may be for the - benefit of both that I should say ’Yes’ to you to-day. But what is - to be must be secretly done, and soon Are you willing, to obtain - your desire, to risk a little, when I am willing to risk so much in - granting it? If so, meet my lady-in-waiting to-day at six, alone, - where we first met, and she will tell you all that I have decided.” - -It was signed simply—“Marie Ottilie.” - -There was no hint of answering love to my passionate declaration, but -I did not miss it. I had won my Princess, and the few clear words in -which she laid bare before me the whole extent of my presumption only -added to the exquisite zest of my conquest. - -It was a very autumn day—autumn comes quickly in these lands. It had -been raining, and I rode down from the higher level into a sea of white -writhing mists. It was still and warm—one of those heavy days that -as a rule seem like to clog the blood and fill one with reasonless -foreboding. I remember all that now; but I know that there was no place -for foreboding in my exulting heart as I sallied out full early to the -trysting-place. - -The mare I rode, because of the close atmosphere and her own headstrong -temper, was in a great lather when I arrived at the little pine-wood, -and I dismounted and began to lead her gently to and fro (for I loved -the pretty creature, who was as fond and skittish as a woman) that she -might cool by degrees and take no injury. I was petting and fondling -her sleek coat, when of a sudden, without my having had the least -warning of her coming, I turned to find Mademoiselle Ottilie before me. - -She looked at me straight with one of those odd searching looks which I -had now and again seen her fix upon me; and without either “Good-even” -or “How-do-you-do,” she said abruptly: - -“I saw you coming all the way along the white road from the moment it -turns the corner, and I saw how your mare fought you, and how difficult -it was to bring her past the great beam of the well yonder. You made -her obey, but you have not left a scratch upon her sides—yet you wear -spurs.” - -She looked at me with the most earnest inquiry, and, ruffled by the -futility of the question when so much was at stake, I said to her -somewhat sharply: - -“What has this to do, Mademoiselle, with our meeting here to-day?” - -“It has this to do, Monsieur,” she answered me composedly, “that her -Highness’s interests are as dear to me as my own, and that I am glad -to learn that the man she is to wed has a merciful heart. I know a -man,” she went on, “in our own country who passes for the finest, the -bravest, the most gallant, but when he brings a horse in from the -chase its legs will be trembling and it will be panting so that it can -scarce draw breath, because the rider is so brave and dashing that he -must go the fastest of all, and he will have left his mark upon the -poor beast’s sides in great furrows where he has ploughed them with his -spurs. He is greatly admired by every one; but his horses die, and his -hounds shrink when he moves his hand: that is what my country-people -call being manly—being a real cavalier!” - -The scorn of her tone was something beyond the mere girlish pettishness -I generally associated with her; but to me, except as she represented -or influenced her mistress, she had never had any interest. And so -again impatiently I brought her back to the object of our meeting. - -“Her Highness has entrusted you with a message?” I asked. - -“Her Highness would first of all know,” said the maid of honour, “if -you fully realise the difficulties you may bring upon yourself by the -marriage you propose?” - -“The Princess,” said I proudly, “has condescended to say that she will -trust herself to me. After that, as far as I am concerned, there can be -no question of difficulty. As for her, if she will consent to accompany -me to England, no trouble or reproach need ever reach her ears. If she -prefers to remain here, I shall none the less be able to protect my -wife, were it against the whole Empire itself.” - -“That is the right spirit,” said Mademoiselle Ottilie, nodding her -head approvingly. “What you say has not got a grain of common sense, -but that is all as it should be. And next,” she continued, drawing -closer to me, for there was a twilight dimness about us, and standing -on tiptoe in the endeavour to bring her gaze on a level with mine, “her -Highness wishes to know”—she dropped her voice a little—“if you love -her very much?” - -As if the gaze of those yellow hazel eyes of hers had cast a sudden -revealing light upon my soul, I stood abashed and dumb, self-convicted -by my silence. Love! Did I love her whom I would make my wife? Taken -up with schemes of vainglory and ambition, what room had I in my heart -for love? In all my triumph at having won her, was there one qualifying -thread of tenderness? Would I, in fine, have sought the woman, -beautiful though she was, were she not the Princess? - -In a sort of turmoil I asked myself these things under the compelling -earnestness of Mademoiselle Ottilie’s eyes, and everything in myself -looked strange and hideous to myself, as beneath a vivid lightning -flash the most familiar scene assumes a singular and appalling aspect. - -In another moment she moved away and turned aside from me; and then, -even as after the lightning flash all things resume their normal -aspect, I wondered at my own weak folly, and my blood rose hotly -against the impertinence that had evoked it. - -“By what right,” said I, “Mademoiselle, do you ask me such a question? -If it be indeed by order of her Highness, pray tell her that when she -will put it to me herself I will answer it to herself.” - -The maid of honour wheeled round with her arch, inscrutable smile. - -“Oh!” she said, “believe me, you have answered me very well. I was -already convinced of the sincerity and ardour of your attachment to -... her Highness—so convinced, indeed, that I am here to-night for -the sole purpose of helping both you and her to your most insane of -marriages. The Princess is accustomed to rely upon me for everything, -and upon me, therefore, falls the whole burden of preparation and -responsibility. Whether the end of all this will be a dungeon for the -lady-in-waiting, if indeed the Duke does not have her executed for -high treason, is naturally a contingency which neither of you will -consider worth a moment’s thought. It is quite certain, however, that -without me you would both do something inconceivably stupid, and ruin -all. But, voyons, Monsieur de Jennico,” she went on with sudden gravity -of demeanour, “this is no time for pleasantry. It is a very serious -matter. You are wasting precious moments in a singularly light-hearted -fashion, it seems to me.” - -The reproach came well from her! But she left me no time to protest. - -“I am here,” she said, “as you know, to tell you what the Princess has -decided, and how we must act if the whole thing is not to fail. First -of all, the arrival of some important person from the Court of Lausitz -may take place any day, and then—’Bonjour!’” She blew an airy kiss and -waved her hand, while with a cold thrill I realised the irrefutable -truth of her words. - -“If it is to be,” she went on, unconsciously repeating almost the exact -text of her mistress’s letter to me, “it must be at once and in secret. -Mind, not a word to a soul till all is accomplished! On your honour I -lay it! And she, her Highness, enjoins it upon you not to betray her to -any single human being before you have acquired the right to protect -her. It is surely not too much to ask!” - -She spoke with deep solemnity, and yet characteristically cut short my -asseverations. - -“And, that being settled, and you being willing to take this lady for -your wife,—probably without a stiver, and certainly with her father’s -curse” (I smiled proudly in the arrogance of my heart: all Duke as he -was I did not doubt, once the first storm over, but that my exalted -father-in-law would find very extenuating circumstances for his wilful -daughter’s choice).—“that being settled,” continued Miss Ottilie, “it -only remains to know—are you prepared to enter the marriage state two -nights hence?” - -“I wish,” said I, and could not keep the note of exultation from my -voice at having the rare prize thus actually within my reach—“I wish -you would ask me for some harder proof of my complete devotion to her -Highness.” - -“Well, then,” she said hastily, whispering as if the pines could -overhear us, “so be it! I have not been idle to-day, and I have laid -the plot. You know the little church in that wretched village of -Wilhelmsdhal we posted through two days ago? The priest there is very -old and very poor and like a child, because he has always lived among -the peasants; and now indeed he is almost too old to be their priest -any more. I saw him to-day, and told him that two who loved each other -were in great straits because people wanted to wed the maiden to a bad -and cruel man,—that is true, Monsieur de Jennico,—I told him that -these two would die of grief, or lose their souls, perhaps, were they -separated, because of the love they bore each other.... There, sir, I -permitted myself a poetical license! To be brief, I promised him in -your name what seemed a great sum for his poor, a thousand thalers—you -will see to that—and he has promised me to wed you on Wednesday night, -at eight of the clock, secretly, in his poor little church. He is so -old and so simple it was like misleading a child, but nevertheless, -the cause being good, I trust I may be forgiven. Drive straight to the -church, and there you will find one who will direct you. The Princess -will not see you again till she meets you before the altar. You will -bring her home to your castle. A maid will accompany her. And that is -all. Adieu, Monsieur de Jennico.” - -She stretched out her hand and her voice trembled. - -“You will not see the maid of honour perhaps ever again. Her task is -done,” she added. - -I took her hand, touched by her accent of earnestness, and gratefully -awoke to the fact that she alone had made the impossible possible to -my desire. I looked at her face, close to mine in the faint light; and -as she smiled at me, a little sadly, I was struck with the delicate -beauty of the curve of her lip, and the exquisite finishing touch of -the dimple that came and went beside it, and the thought flashed into -my mind—“That little maid may one day blossom into the sort of woman -that drives men mad.” - -She slipped her hand from mine as I would have kissed it, and nodded at -me with a return of the cool impudence that had so often vexed me. - -“Good-bye, gallant cavalier,” she said mockingly. - -She whistled as if for a dog, and I saw the black figure of the nurse -start from the shadow of the trees a few yards away, and, meeting, they -joined in the mist and merged swiftly into it. - -Whereupon I mounted the mare, who was sorely tried by her long waiting; -and as we cantered homewards I was haunted, through the extraordinary -blaze of my triumphant thoughts, to my own exasperation and surprise, -oddly and unwillingly, by the arch sweetness of the maid of honour’s -smile. - -And once (I blushed all alone in the darkness for the shame of such -a thought in my mind at such a moment) I caught myself picturing the -sweetness a man might find in pressing his lips upon the tantalising -dimple. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - - -THE night before my wedding-day—it was natural enough—there was a -restlessness upon me which would not let me sleep, or think of sleep. - -When supper was over I bade my servants retire. They had thought -me cracked, and with reason, I believe, for the way in which I had -wandered about the house all day, moving and shifting and preparing, -and giving orders to no seeming purpose. I sat down in my uncle’s room, -and, drawing the chair he had died in opposite his portrait, I held a -strange conclave with (as I believed then) his ghost. I know now that -if any spirit communed with me that night it was my own evil angel. - -I had had the light set where it best illuminated the well-known -countenance. At my elbow was a goodly bottle of his famous red wine. - -“Na, old one,” said I aloud, leaning back in my chair in luxurious -self-satisfaction and proud complacency, “am I doing well for the -old name? Who knows if one day thou countest not kings among thy -descendants!” - -Methought the old man grinned back at me, his hideous tusked grin. - -“‘Tis well, Kerlchen,” he said. - -I unrolled the pedigree. That cursed parchment, what a part it has -played in my life!—as evil a part, as fatal as the apple by which our -first parents fell. It is pride that damns us all! And I read aloud the -entries I had made: they sounded very well, and so my uncle thought—or -seemed to—for I swear he winked at me and said: - -“Write it in ink, lad; that must stand clear, for das klingt schön.” - -And then, though I was very comfortable, I had to get up and find the -ink and engross the noble record of my marriage, filling in the date -with care, for my uncle, dead or alive, was not one to disobey. - -“‘Tis good,” then again said my uncle, “and thou dost well. But -remember, without I had done so well, lad, thou hadst not risen thus. -And what,” added my uncle, sniggering, “will the Brüderl say when he -hears the news—hey, nephew Basil?” - -I had thought of that myself: it was another glorious pull over the -renegade! - -Whereupon my uncle—it was surely the proud fiend himself bent upon my -destruction—fell to telling me I must write to my family at once, -that the letter might be despatched in the morning. - -I protested. I was bound to secrecy, I told him. But he scowled, -and would have it that I must remember my duty to my mother, and he -further made me a very long sermon upon the curses that will befall a -bad child. And thus egged on—and what could I do?—I indited a very -flaming document indeed, and under the seal of the strictest confidence -made my poor mother acquainted with all the greatness her son was -bringing into his family, and bade her rejoice with him. - -The night was well worn when I had finished, and the bottle of potent -Burgundy was nearly out too. Then, meaning to rise and withdraw, I fell -asleep in my chair. It was grey dawn before I awoke, and I was cold as -I stretched myself and staggered to my feet. In the weird thin light -my uncle’s face now shone out drawn and austere, with something of the -look I remembered it to have borne in death. - -But it was the dawn of my wedding-day, and I went to my bed—stumbling -over old János, who sat, the faithful dog! asleep on the threshold—to -dream of my wedding ... a wedding with royal pomp, to the blare of -trumpets and the acclamations of a multitude: - -“Jennico hoch—hoch dem edlen Jennico!” - -The village of Wilhelmsdhal is quite an hour’s drive (even at the pace -of my good horses) along the downhill road which leads from my uplifted -mansion into the valley land; it takes two hours for the return way. - -For safety’s sake I made the announcement of my approaching marriage -to the household as late in the day as possible, and, though sorely -tempted to betray the exalted rank of the future mistress to the -astonished major-domo, to whom János, with his usual imperturbability, -interpreted my commands, I refrained, with a sense that the impression -created would only after all be heightened if the disclosure were -withheld till the actual apparition of the newly-made wife. - -But in the vain arrogance of my delight I ordered every detail of the -reception which was to greet us, and which I was determined should be -magnificent enough to make up for the enforced hole-and-corner secrecy -of the marriage ceremony. - -Schultz the factor, my chief huntsman, and the highest among my people -were to head torch-light processions of their particular subordinates -at stated places along the avenue that led upwards to the house. -There was to be feasting and music in the courtyard. Flowers were to -be strewn from the very threshold of her new home to the door of my -Princess’s bridal chamber. - -God knows all the extravagance I planned! It makes me sick now to think -back on it! - -And the wedding! Ah! that was a wedding to be proud of! - -It was a dull and cloudy evening, with a high, moist wind that came -in wild gusts, sweeping over the plains and tearing the leaves from -the forest trees, bringing with it now a swift moonlit clearing upon -the lowering face of heaven, now only thicker darkness and torrents of -rain. It was all but night already in the forest roads when I started, -and quite night as I emerged from out of the shelter of the mountains -into the flat country. János sat on the box and my chasseurs hung on -behind, and my four horses kept up a splendid pace upon the level -ground. I had dressed very fine, as became a bridegroom; but fortunate -it was that I had brought a dark cloak with me, for a fearful burst -of storm-rain came down upon me as I jumped out from the carriage at -the church door. And indeed, despite that protection, my fine white -satin clothes were splashed with mud, my carefully powdered queue sadly -disarranged in the few steps I had to take before reaching shelter, for -the wind blew a very hurricane, and the rain came down like the rain -of the deluge. - -The church porch was lit only by an ill-trimmed wick floating in a -saucer of oil; but by the flickering light, envious and frail as it -was, I discerned at once the figure of Mademoiselle Ottilie’s nurse -awaiting us. Without a word she beckoned to me to follow her into the -church. - -The place struck cold and damp with a death-like closeness after the -warm blustering air I had just left. It was even darker than the porch -outside, its sole illumination proceeding from the faint glow of the -little sanctuary lamp and the sullen yellow flame of two or three -tallow candles stuck on spikes before a rough wooden statue on a pillar -at one side. I, flanked by János and his two satellites, followed the -gaunt figure to the very altar rails, where, with an imperious gesture, -she signed to me to take my place. - -Before turning to go she stood still a second looking at me, and -methought—or it may have been a fancy born of the dismal place and -the dismal gloom—that I had never seen a human countenance express so -much hatred as did that woman’s in the mysterious gleam of the lamp. My -heart contracted with an omen of forthcoming ill. - -Then I heard her feet go down the aisle, the door open and close, -and we were left alone. In the silence of the church—the most -poverty-stricken and desolate, the most miserable, the most ruined to -be yet used as the House of God, I think I had ever entered—at the -foot of the altar of my faith, a sudden misgiving seized upon me. How -would all this end? I was going to bind myself for life with the most -solemn vows. Would all the honour and glory of the alliance compensate -me for the loss of my liberty? - -I was only twenty-six, and I knew of her who was henceforth to be my -second self no more, rather less, than I knew of any of the barefooted -maids that slipped grinning about the passages of Tollendhal. To be -frank with myself, the glamour of gratified vanity once stripped from -before the eye of my inmost soul, what was the naked, hideous truth? -I had no more love for her—man for woman—than for rosy Kathi or -black-browed Sarolta! - -Here my reflections were broken in upon by that very patter of naked -soles that had been in my thoughts, and a little ragged boy, in a -dilapidated surplice, ran round the sanctuary from some back door, -and fell to lighting a pair of candles on the altar, a proceeding -which only seemed once more to heighten the darkness. Presently, in a -surplice and cassock as tattered as his acolyte’s, with long white hair -lying unkempt upon his shoulders, an old priest—in sooth, the oldest -man I have ever seen alive, I believe—came forth with tottering steps; -before him the tattered urchin, behind him a sacristan well-nigh as -antique as himself, and as utterly pauperised. - -These were to be the ministers of my grand marriage! - -But almost immediately a fresh clamour of opening doors, and a light, -sedate footfall, struck my ear, and all doubt and dismay disappeared -like magic. Closely enveloped in the folds of a voluminous dark velvet -cloak, with its hood drawn forward over her head, and beneath this -shade her face muffled in the gathers of a white lace veil, I knew the -stately height of my bride as she advanced towards me—and the sight -of her, the sound of her brave step, set my heart dancing with the old -triumph. - -She stood beside me, and as the words were spoken I thought no more of -the mean surroundings, of the evil omens, of the responsibilities and -consequences of my act. It was nothing to me now that the old priest -who wedded us, and his companion who ministered to him, should look -more like mouldering corpses than living men—that the nurse’s burning -eyes should still seek my face with evil look. I had no thought to -spare for the position of my bride herself—her filial disobedience, -her loneliness—no feeling of tenderness for the touching character -of her confidence in me—no doubt as to her future happiness as my -wife, nor as to my capacity for compensating her for the sacrifice of -so much. I did not wonder at, nay, notice even, the absence of the -lady-in-waiting—that moving spirit of our courtship. My whole soul was -possessed with triumph. I was self-centred on my own success. The words -were spoken; my voice rang out boldly, but hers was the barest breath -of speech behind her muffling drapery. I slipped the ring (it had been -my aunt’s), with a passing wonder that it should prove so much too -large, upon the slender finger, that hardly protruded from a fall of -enveloping lace. - -We were drenched with a perfect shower of holy water out of a tin -bucket; and then, man and wife, we went to the sacristy to sign our -names by the light of one smoking tallow candle. - -I dashed mine forth with splendid flourish—the good old name of -Jennico of Farringdon Dane and Tollendhal, all my qualifications, -territorial, military, and inherited. And she penned hers in the -flowing handwriting I already knew, Marie Ottilie: the lofty, simple -signature, as I thought with swelling heart, of sovereigns! - -I pressed into the old priest’s cold fingers, as he peered at us -from the book, right and left, with dull, bewildered eyes, in which -I thought to see the dawn of a vague misgiving, a purse bulging with -notes to the value of double the sum promised; and then, with her hand -upon my arm, I led her to my carriage. - -The rain had begun again and the wind was storming when we drove -off, my wife and I. And for a little while—a long time it seemed to -me—there was silence between us, broken only by the beating of the -drops against the panes of the carriage, and the steady tramp of my -horses’ hoofs on the wet road. Now that I had accomplished my wish, -a strange embarrassment fell upon me. I had no desire to speak of -love to the woman I had won. I had won her, I had triumphed—that was -sufficient. I would not have undone my deed for the world; but none the -less the man who finds himself the husband and has never been the lover -is placed in a singular position. - -I looked at the veiled figure beside me and wondered at its stillness. -The light of the little lantern inside the carriage flickered upon the -crimson of the velvet cloak and the white folds of the veil that hid -her face from me. Then I awoke to the consciousness of the sorry figure -I must present in her eyes, and, drawing from my pocket a ring,—the -richest I had been able to find among my aunt’s rich store,—I took the -hand that lay half hidden and passive beside me, meaning to slip the -jewel over the plain gold circlet I had already placed upon it. Now, -as I took the hand into my own, I was struck with its smallness, its -slenderness, its lightness; I remembered that even in the dark church, -and with but the tips of the fingers resting in my own, a similar -impression had vaguely struck me. I lifted it, spread out the little, -long, thin fingers—too often had I kissed the dimpled firm hand of her -Serene Highness not to know the difference! This was my wife’s hand; -there was my ring. But who was my wife? - -I felt like a man in a bad dream. I do not know if I spoke or not; but -every fibre of me was crying out aloud, as it were, in a frenzy. I -suppose I turned, or looked; at any rate my companion, as if in answer -to a question, said composedly: - -“Yes, sir, it is so.” At the same moment, putting up her veil with -her right hand, she disclosed to me the features of Ottilie, the -lady-in-waiting. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - - -I MUST have stared like a madman. For very fear of my own violence, I -dared not move or speak. Mademoiselle Ottilie, or, to call her by her -proper name, Madame de Jennico, very composedly removed her veil from -her hair, pushed back her hood, and withdrew the hand which I still -unconsciously clutched. Then she turned and looked at me as if waiting -for me to speak first. I said in a sort of whisper: - -“What does this mean?” - -“It means, Monsieur de Jennico, that, for your own good, you have been -deceived.” - -There was a little quiver in her voice. Was it fear? Was it mockery? I -thought the latter, and the strenuous control I was endeavouring to put -upon my seething passion of fury and bewilderment broke down. I threw -up my arms, the natural gesture of a man driven beyond bounds, and as -I did so felt the figure beside me make a sudden, abrupt movement. I -thought that she shrank from me—that she feared lest I, _I_, Basil -Jennico, would strike _her_, a woman! This aroused me at once to a -sense of my own position, and at the same time to one of bitterest -contempt for her. But as I wheeled round to gaze at her, I saw that -whatever charges might be laid upon her—and God knows she had wrought -a singular evil upon me!—the accusation of cowardice could not be part -of them. Her face showed white, indeed, in the pale light, her features -set; but her eyes looked fearlessly into mine. Every line of her figure -expressed the most dauntless determination. She was braced to endure, -ready to face, what she had drawn upon herself. This was no craven, -rather the very spirit of daring. - -“In God’s name,” I cried, “why have you done this?” - -“And did you think,” she said, looking at me, I thought, with a -sort of pity, “that princesses, out of fairy tales, are so ready to -marry lovers of low degree, no matter how rich or how gallant? Oh, I -know what you would say—that you are well-born; but for all that, -princesses do not wed with such as you, sir!” - -Every drop of my blood revolted against the smart of this humiliation. -Stammering and protesting, my wrath overflowed my lips. - -“But this deception,—this impossible, insane fraud,—what is its -object? What is _your_ object? You encouraged me—you incited me. -Confusion!” I cried and clasped my head. “I think I am going mad!” - -“Her Serene Highness thought that she would like to see me settled in -life,” said my bride, with the old look of derision on her face. - -I seized her hand. - -“It was the Princess’s plan, then?” I asked in a whisper; and it seemed -to me as if everything turned to crimson before my eyes. - -She met my look—and it must have been a terrible one—with the same -dauntlessness as before, and answered, after a little pause, with cool -deliberation: - -“Yes, it was the Princess’s plan.” - -The carriage drove on through the rain; and again there was silence -between us. My pulses beat loud in my ears; I saw, as if written in -fire, the whole devilish plot to humiliate me for my presumption. I saw -myself as I must appear to that high-born lady—a ridiculous aspirant -whose claim was too absurd even to be seriously dealt with. And she, -the creature who had lent herself to my shame, without whose glib -tongue and pert audacious counsels I had never presumed, who had dared -to carry out, smiling, so gross a fraud, to wear my ring and front me -still—how was I to deal with her? - -These were the thoughts that surged backward and forwards in my mind, -futile wreckage on stormy sea, in the first passion of my anger. - -“You know,” I said at last, and felt like a man who touches solid earth -at last, “that this is no marriage.” - -Her countenance expressed at this the most open amazement and the most -righteous indignation. - -“How, sir,” she cried—“has not the priest wedded us? Are we not of the -same faith, and does not the same Church bind us? Have not we together -received a most solemn sacrament? Have not you, Basil, and I, Marie -Ottilie, sworn faith to each other until death do us part? You may like -it or not, Monsieur de Jennico, but we are none the less man and wife, -as fast as Church can make us.” - -As she spoke she smiled again, and looked at me with that dimple coming -and going beside the curve of her lip. - -As they say men do at the point of some violent death, so I saw in the -space of a second my whole life stretched before me, past and future. - -I saw the two alternatives that lay to my hand, and their full -consequences. - -I knew what the audacious little deceiver beside me ignored—that it -rested upon my pleasure alone to acknowledge or not the validity of -this marriage. Let me take the step which as a man of honour I ought -to take, which as a Jennico and my uncle’s heir I was pledged in -conscience to take, it was to hold myself up to universal mockery—and -I should lay bare before a grinning world the whole extent of my -pretensions and their requital. - -On the other hand, let me keep my secret for a while and seemingly -accept my wife: the whole point of the cursed jest would fail. - -Let me show the Princess that my love for her was not so overpowering, -nor my disappointment so heart-breaking, but that I had been able to -find temporary compensation in the substitute with whom she had herself -provided me. There are more souls lost, I believe, through the fear of -ridicule than through all the temptations of the world, the flesh, and -the devil! - -My resolution was promptly taken: my revenge would be more exquisite -and subtle than the trick that had been played upon me. - -I would take her to my home, this damsel whom no feeling of maidenly -restraint, of womanly compassion, had kept from acting so base a part; -and for a while, at least, not all the world should guess but that -in winning her my dearest wish had been accomplished. Afterwards, -when I had tamed that insolent spirit, when I had taught this wild -tassel-gentle to come to my hand and fly at my bidding—and I smiled -to myself as I laid that plan which was full as cruel as the deception -that had been practised upon me, and which I am ashamed to set out in -black and white before me now—afterwards, when I chose to repudiate -the woman who had usurped my name through the most barefaced imposture, -if I knew the law both of land and Church, I could not be gainsaid. -I had warned her that this marriage was no marriage. What could a -gentleman do more? - -A sudden calmness fell over me; it struck me that the laugh would be on -my side after all. - -My companion was first to speak. She settled herself in the corner of -the carriage something like a bird that settles down in its nest, and, -still with her eyes, which now looked very dark in the uncertain light, -fixed upon me, said in a tone of the utmost security: - -“You can beat me of course, if you like, and you can murder me if you -are very, very angry; but you cannot undo what is done. I am your -wife!” She gave a little nod which was the perfection of impudence. -She was like some wild thing of the woods that has never seen a human -being before, and is absolutely fearless because of its absolute -ignorance. I ought to have pitied her, seeing how young, how childish, -she was. But though there sprang into my heart strange feelings, -and that dimple tempted me more and more, there was no relenting in -my angry soul. Only I told myself that my revenge would be sweet. -And I was half distraught, I think, between the conflict of pride, -disappointment, and the strange alluring charm that this being who had -so betrayed me was yet beginning to have upon me. - -The speed of our four horses was slackening; we were already on the -mountain road which led to my castle. There was a glimmer of moon -again, the rain-beat was silent on the panes, and I could see from -a turning in the road the red gleam of the torch-bearers whom I had -ordered for the bridal welcome. - -The monstrous absurdity of the situation struck me afresh, and my -resolution grew firmer. How could I expose myself, a poor tricked fool, -to the eyes of that people who regarded me as something not unlike a -demi-god? No, I would keep the woman. She had sought me, not I her. I -would keep her for a space at least, and let no man suspect that she -was not my choice. And then, in the ripeness of time, when I would sell -this old rook’s nest and betake me home to England as a dutiful nephew, -why, then my lady Princess should have her maid of honour back again, -and see if she would find it so easy to settle her in life once more! -What pity should I have upon her who had no pity for me, who had sold -her maiden pride in such a sordid barter for a husband? This was no -mere tool of a woman’s scorn. No! Contemned by her I had wooed, played -with, no doubt I had been; but I had seen enough of the relations of -the two girls not to know well who was the moving spirit in all their -actions. This lady had had an eye to her own interests while lending -herself to my humiliation. Thinking upon it now with as cool a brain as -I might,—and once I had settled upon my resolve, the first frenzy of -my rage died away,—I told myself that the new Madam Jennico lied when -she said it was altogether the Princess’s plan; and indeed I afterwards -heard from her own lips that in this I had guessed but a third of the -actual truth. - -And now, as we were drawing close to the first post where my -over-docile and zealous retainers were already raising a fearful -clamour, and I must perforce assume some attitude to face the people, -I turned to my strange bride, and said to her: - -“Do you think, then, it is the right of a husband to strike or slay his -wife? If so, I marvel that you should have been so eager to enter upon -the wedded state.” - -She put out her hand to me, and for the first time her composure -wavered. The tears welled into her eyes and her lip quivered. - -“No,” she said; “and therefore I chose you, Monsieur de Jennico, not -for your fine riches, not for your pedigree,”—and here, the little -demon! it seemed she could not refrain from a malicious smile under -the very mist of her tears,—“but because you are an Englishman, and -incapable of harshness to a woman.” - -“And so,” said I, not believing her disinterested asseveration a -whit, but with a queer feeling at my heart at once bitterly angry at -each word that betrayed the determination of her deceit and her most -unwomanly machinations, and yet, and yet strangely melted to her, “it -is reckoning on my weak good-nature that you have played me this trick?” - -“No, sir,” she said, flushing, “I reckoned on your manliness.” And then -she added, with the most singular simplicity: “I liked you, besides, -too well to see you unhappily married, and the other Ottilie would -have made you a wretched wife.” - -I burst out laughing, for, by the manes of my great-uncle, the -explanation was comic! And she fell to laughing too,—my servants must -have thought we were a merry couple! And, as she laughed and I looked -at her, knowing her now my own, and looking at her therefore with -other eyes, I deemed I had never seen a woman laugh to such bewitching -purpose! And though I was full of my cruel intent, and though I dubbed -her false and shameless and as deceitful a little cat as ever a man -could meet, yet the dimple drew me, and I put my arms around her and -kissed it. _As my lips touched hers I knew I was a lost man!_ - -The next moment we were surrounded with a tribe of leaping peasants, -the horses were plunging, torches were waving and casting shadows -upon the savage, laughing faces. If I had cursed myself for my happy -thought before, I cursed myself still more now; but the situation had -to be accepted. And the way in which my bride, blushing crimson from -my kiss,—she who had no blush to spare for herself before this night, -adapted herself to it was a marvel to me, as indeed all that I was to -see or learn of her during our brief moon of wedded life was likewise -to prove. - -I am bound to say that the Princess herself could not have behaved with -a better grace than this burgher daughter amid the wild peasants and -their almost Eastern fashion of receiving their liege lady. - -Within a little distance of the house it became impossible to advance -with the carriage, and we were fain to order a halt and alight all -in the stormy wind, and proceed on foot through the throng which had -gathered thick and close about the gates, and which even Schultz’s -stout cane failed to disperse. My wife—I did not call her so then -in my mind, but now I can call her by no other name—my wife passed -through them as if she had done nothing all her life but receive the -homage of the people. She gave her hand to be kissed to half a hundred -fierce lips; she smiled at the poor women who clutched the hem of her -gown and knelt before her. The flush my kiss had called into being had -not yet faded from her cheek; there was a light in her eye, a smile -upon her lip. As I looked at her and watched I could not but admit that -there was no need for me to feel ashamed of her, that night. - -I had sworn to give my bride a royal reception, and a royal reception -she received. - -Schultz had generously carried out his instructions. We sat down to a -sumptuous meal which would not have misbefitted the Emperor himself. -I could not eat. The acclamations and the rejoicings struck cold upon -my ear. But the bride—enigma to me then as now—sat erect in her great -chair at the other end of the great table, and smiled and drank and -feasted daintily, and met my eye now and again with as pretty and as -blushing a look as if I had chosen her among a thousand. The gipsies -played their maddening music—the music of my dream—and the cries -in the courtyard rose now and then to a very clamour of enthusiasm. -Schultz, with a truly German sentimentality, had presented his new -mistress with a large bouquet of white flowers. The smell of them -turned me faint. I knew that in the great room beyond, all illuminated -by a hundred wax candles, was the portrait of my uncle, stern and -solitary. I would not have dared to go into that room that night to -have met the look of his single watchful eye. - -And yet, O God! how are we made and of what strange clay! What would -I not give now to be back at that hour! What would I not give to see -her there at the head of my board once more! What is all the world to -me—what all the traditions of my family—what even the knowledge of -her deceit and my humiliation, compared with the waste and desolation -of my life without her! - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - - -AND now what I must set down of myself is so passing strange that -had I not, I myself, lived through it, were I not now in an earthly -hell for the mere want of her, I could not have believed that human -nature—above all the superior quality of human nature appertaining to -Basil Jennico—could be so weak a thing. - -I had meant to be master: I found myself a slave! And slave of what? -A dimple, a pair of yellow eyes, veiled by long black lashes—a saucy -child! - -I had meant to have held her merely as my toy, at the whim of my will -and pleasure: and behold! the very sound of her voice, the fall of her -light foot, would set my blood leaping; under the glance of her wilful -eye my whole being would become as wax to the flame. - -In olden days people would have said I was bewitched. - -I think, looking back on it all now, that it was perhaps her singular -dissimilarity from any other woman I had ever met that began the spell. -Had she opposed to my anger, on that memorable night of our marriage, -the ordinary arms of a woman discovered; had she wept, implored, -bewailed her fate, who shall say that, even at the cost of my vanity, -I might not have driven her straight back to her Princess? Who shall -say that I should have wished to keep her, even to save myself from -ridicule? It is impossible for me now to unravel the tangled threads -of that woof that has proved the winding-sheet of my young happiness; -but this I know—this of my baseness and my better nature—that once I -had kissed her I was no longer a free man. And every day that passed, -every hour I spent beside her, welded closer and firmer the chains of -my servitude. - -She was an enigma which I ever failed to solve. That alone was -alluring. Judged by her actions, most barefaced little schemer, -most arrant adventuress plotting for a wealthy match, there was -yet something about her which absolutely forbade me to harbour in -her presence an unworthy thought of her. Guilty of deceit such as -hers had been towards me, she ought to have displayed either a -conscience-stricken or a brazen soul: I found her emanate an atmosphere -not only of childlike innocence but of lofty purity that often made me -blush for my grosser imaginings. - -She ought, by rights, to have feared me—to have been humble at least: -she was as proud as Lucifer before the fall and as fearless as he when -he dared defy his Creator. She ought to have mistrusted me, shown doubt -of how I would treat her: and alas! in what words could I describe the -confidence she gave me? so generous, so sublime, so guileless. It would -have forced one less enamoured than myself into endeavouring to deserve -it for very shame! - -A creature of infinite variety of moods, with never a sour one among -them; the serenest temper and the merriest heart I have ever known; a -laugh to make an old man young, and a smile to make a young man mad; as -fresh as spring; as young and as fanciful! I never knew in what word -she would answer me, what thing she would do, in what humour I should -find her. Yet her tact was exquisite. She dared all and never bruised -a fibre (till that last terrible day, my poor lost love!). And besides -and beyond this, there was yet another thing about her which drew me on -till I was all lost in love. She was elusive. I never felt sure of her, -never felt that she was wholly mine. Her tenderness—oh, my God, her -tenderness!—was divine, and yet I felt I had not all she had to give. -There was still a secret hanging upon that exquisite lip, a mystery -that I had yet to solve, a land that lay unexplored before me. And it -comes upon me like madness, now that she is gone from me, perhaps for -ever, that I may never know the word of the riddle. - -I have said that the past is like a dream to look back upon; no part of -it is more dreamlike than the days which followed my strange wedding. -They seemed to melt into each other, and yet it is the memory of them -which is at once my joy and my torture now. - -At first she did not touch, nor did I, upon the question which lay -like a covered fire always smouldering between us; and in a while it -came about with me that I lived as a gambler upon the pleasure of -the moment. And though in my heart I had not told myself yet that I -would give up my revenge,—though it was hidden there, a sleeping -viper, cruel and implacable,—I strove to forget it, strove to think -neither of the future nor of the past. I hung a curtain over my uncle’s -picture, at which old János nearly broke his heart. I rolled up the -pedigree very tight and rammed it into a drawer ... and the autumn days -seemed all too short for the golden hours they gave me. - -No one came to disturb us in our solitude, no hint from the outer -world. We two were as apart in our honeymoon as the most jealous -lovers could wish. I knew not what had become of the Princess. In very -truth I could not bear to think of her; the memory of the absurd part I -had been made to play was so unpalatable, was associated with so much -that was painful and humiliating, and brought with it such a train of -disquieting reflections that I drove it from me systematically. I never -wanted to see the woman again, to hear her voice, or even learn what -had become of her. That I never had one particle of lover’s love for -her was plainer than ever to me now, in the midst of the new feelings -with which my unsought bride inspired me. I knew what love meant at -last, and would at times be filled with an angry contempt for myself, -that she who had proved herself so all unworthy should be the one to -have this power upon me. - -Thus the days went by quite aimlessly. And by-and-by as they went the -thought of what I had planned to do became less and less welcome to -me, not (to my shame be it said) for its wickedness, but because I -could not contemplate life without my present happiness. And after yet -a while the idea (at first rejected as monstrous, impossible, nay, -even as a base breach of faith to my dead uncle) that I might make the -sacrifice of my Jennico pride and actually content myself after all -with this unfit alliance, began to take shape within me. Gradually -this idea grew dearer to me hour by hour, though I still in secret -held to the possibility of my other plan, as a sort of “rod in pickle” -over the head of my perverse companion, and caressed it now and again -in my inmost soul—when she was most provoking—as a method to bring -her to my knees in dire humiliation, but only to have the ultimate -sweetness of nobly forgiving her. For Ottilie was far from showing a -proper spirit of contrition or a fitting sense of what she owed me; and -this galled me at times to the quick. I had never ceased to entertain -the resolve of taming the wild little lady, although I found it -increasingly difficult to begin the process. - -Alone we were by no means lonely, even though the days fell away into -a month’s length. We rode together, we drove, we walked; she chattered -like a magpie, and I never knew a second’s dulness. She whipped my -blood for me like a frosty wind, and, or so it seemed to me, took a -new bloom, a new beauty in her happiness. For she was happy. The only -sour visage in Tollendhal at the time was, I think, that of the strange -nurse. I had found her waiting in my wife’s bedroom the night of our -homecoming. She never spoke to me during the whole time of her stay, -nor to Schultz, although he was her countryman. With the others, of -course (saving János) she could not have exchanged a word, and but -that she spoke with her mistress sometimes, I should have thought her -dumb. That woman hated me. I have seen her eyes follow me about as if -she would willingly murder me; but her nursling she loved in quite as -vehement a fashion, and therefore I bore with her. - -We had been married a week when Ottilie first made allusion to the -Princess. We were to ride out on that day, and she came down to -breakfast all equipped but for one boot. - -I have never seen so daintily untidy a person as she was in all my -life. Her hair smelt of fresh violets, but there was always a twist -out of place, or a little curl that had broken loose. Her clothes were -of singular fineness and richness, but she would tear them and tatter -them like a very schoolgirl romp. And so that morning she tripped in -with one pink satin bedroom slipper and one yellow leather riding boot. -I would not let her send for her dark-visaged attendant to repair the -neglect, but fetched the boot myself and knelt to put it on. As I took -off the slipper I paused for a moment weighing it in my hand. It was -so little a thing, so slender, so pretty! She looked down at me with a -smile, and said composedly: - -“Do you think, sir, that the other Ottilie could have put on that shoe?” - -It was, as I said, the first time that the subject had been mentioned -between us since the night of our marriage. I felt as if a cloud came -over me, and looked up darkly at her. It was not wise, surely, I -thought in my heart, to touch upon what I was willing to forget. But -she had no misgiving. She slipped out from under her long riding skirt -the small unbooted foot in its shining pink silk stocking, and said: - -“You would _not_ have liked, Monsieur de Jennico, to have acted -lady’s-maid to her, for you are very fastidious, as it did not take me -long to find out. Oh,” she went on, “if you knew how grateful you ought -to be to me for preventing you from marrying her! You would have been -so unhappy, and you deserved a better fate.” - -“But I thought,” said I—and such was my weakness that the sight of her -pretty foot took away my anger, and I was all lost in the discovery of -how everything about her seemed to curve: her hair in its ripples, her -lip in its arch, her nostrils, her little chin, her lithe young waist, -and now, her foot—“I thought,” and as I spoke I took it into my hand, -“it was the Princess’s plan.” - -“Did I say so?” she said lightly. “That woman was never capable of -a plan in her life! No, sir, I always made her do what I liked. Her -intelligence was just brilliant enough to allow her to realise that she -had better follow my advice. Will you put on my boot, sir? Ah! what -treachery.” I held her tightly by the heel and looked up well pleased -at her laughing face—I loved to watch her laugh—and then I kissed -her silk stocking and put the boot on. To such depths had I come in my -unreasoning infatuation. I felt no anger with her for the revelation -which, indeed, as I think I have previously set down, was from the -beginning scarcely news to me. I had yet to learn how completely -innocent of all complicity in the deception played upon me was her -poor Serenity, how innocent even of the pride and contempt I still -attributed to her! - -The season for the chase had opened; once or twice I had already been -out with the keepers after stags, or wild boars, and my wife, a pretty -figure in her three-cornered hat and fine green riding suit, had ridden -courageously at my side. At the beginning of the third week we made a -journey higher into the mountains and stayed a few days at a certain -hunting-box, the absolute isolation of which seemed by contrast to -make Tollendhal a very vortex. The wild place pleased her fancy. We -had some splendid boar-hunting in the almost inaccessible passes of -the mountains, and Ottilie showed herself as keen at the chase as I, -although, woman-like, she shrank from the finish. She vowed she loved -the loneliness, the simplicity, of the rough wood-built lodge, the -savageness of the scenery. She loved too the novel excitement of the -life, the long day’s riding, the sleepy supper by the roaring wood -fire, with the howl of the dogs outside, and the cry of the autumn wind -about the heights. She begged me with pretty insistence that we should -come back and spend the best part of the coming month in this airy nest. - -“We are more alone,” she said coaxingly, with one of her rare fits of -tenderness. “You are more mine, Basil.” And I promised her that we -should only return to Tollendhal to settle matters with the steward and -provide ourselves with what we wanted, and then that we should have -a new honeymoon. I would have promised anything at such a moment. It -is the truth that in those days, somehow, we had, as she said, grown -closer to each other. - -On the last night, wearied out by the long hours on horseback, she had -fallen asleep as she sat in a great carved wooden chair by the flaming -hearth, while I sat upon the other side, wakeful, watching her, full of -thought. She looked all a child as she slept, her face small and pale -and tired, the shadow of the long lashes very black upon her cheeks. -And then came upon me like a sort of nightmare the memory of what I had -meant to make of this young creature who had trusted herself to me. For -the first time I faced my future boldly, and took a great resolve in -the silence, listening to the fall of her light breath, and the sullen -roar of the wind in the pine forest without. - -I resolved to sacrifice my pride and keep my low-born wife. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - - -IT WAS full of this resolve, with an uplifted consciousness of my -own virtue, that I started next morning beside her upon our homeward -way. The day was very bright; and the bare trees, with here and there -a yellow or red leaf, showed against a sky of palest blue. There -was a frost about us, and our horses were fresh and full of pranks, -as we wound down the rocky paths. My wife, too, was in a skittish -humour, which irritated me a little as being ill-assorted to my own -high-strung feelings and my secret sense of magnanimity. She mocked at -my solemn face, she sang ends of silly songs to herself. I would have -spoken to her of what was on my heart; I would have had her grateful -to me, conscious of her own sin and my generosity. But I could get -her to hearken to no serious speech. She called me “Monsieur de la -Faridondaine,” and plucked a bunch of ash berries as we rode, and -stuck them over one ear, and asked me, her face dimpling, if it was -not becoming to her. And then, when I still urged that I would talk of -grave matters, she pulled a grimace, and fell to mimicking Schultz -with “Jawohl, Gnädigster Herr,” till I was fain to laugh with her and -put off my sermon till the audience was better disposed. - -But my heart was something sore against her. And when we reached home, -I found _that_ awaiting me which awoke a flame of the fierce resentment -of the first hour of discovery. It was a letter from my mother in -answer to the wild, inflated, triumphant lucubration I had sent her on -the eve of my wedding-day. I had, of course, not attempted to undeceive -her—in fact, as I have already set down, it was only within the last -twenty-four hours that I had settled upon a definite plan of action. -My dear mother, who dearly loved, as she herself admitted, the princes -of this earth, was in a tremendous flutter at my exalted alliance. I -read her words, her proud congratulations, with a feeling of absolute -nausea. My brother, she wrote, was torn betwixt a sense of the -increased family importance and the greenest envy, that I, who had paid -no price of honour for the gaining of them, should have risen to such -heights of grandeur and wealth. Not hearing from me since the great -announcement, she had ventured (so she confessed) to confide my secret -to a few dear friends, and “it had got about strangely,” she added -naïvely. The whole Catholic world, the whole English world of fashion, -was ringing with the news of the great Jennico match. In fact, the -poor lady was as nearly beside herself with pride and glory when she -wrote to me, as I had been when I gave her the news. I did not—I am -glad to say this—I did not for a second waver in my resolution of -fidelity to my wife, but I told myself, with an intolerable sense of -injury, that I could never face the shame of returning to England -again; that the full sacrifice entailed upon me was not only the -degradation of an unsuitable alliance, but that hardest of trials to -the true-blooded Englishman, perpetual expatriation! - -In this grim and bitter temper I marched into the room where I now sit, -and drew back the curtain from my uncle’s picture and took forth the -pedigree from its hidden recess. The old man wore, as I knew he would, -a most severe countenance. - -But I turned my back upon him in a disrespectful fashion I had never -dared display during his life, and spread out again that fateful -roll of parchment on the table before me, while with penknife and -pumicestone I sought to efface all traces of that vainglorious entry -that mocked me in its clear black and white. The blood was surging in -my head and singing in my ears, when I heard a light step, and looking -up saw Ottilie. She could not have come at a worse moment. She held -letters in her hand, which upon seeing me she thrust into her pocket -with a sly look and something of a blush. She too, it seemed, had -found a courier awaiting her; the secretness of the action stirred the -heat of my feelings against her yet more. But I strove to be calm and -judicial. - -“Ottilie,” I said, “come here. I have to converse with you on matters -of importance.” - -She drew near me; pouting and with a lagging step, like a naughty child. - -“That sacred pedigree,” she said, and thrust out her under-lip. She -spoke in French, which gave the words altogether a different meaning, -and in my then humour I was hugely shocked to hear such an expression -from her lips. - -“You behave strangely,” I said, with coldness, not to be mollified by -the half-pleading, half-mischievous glance she cast upon me, “and you -speak like a child. There has been enough of childishness, enough of -folly, in this business. It is time to be serious,” I said, and struck -the table with my flat palm as I spoke. - -“Well, let us be serious,” she retorted, slapping the table too, and -then sat down beside me, propping her chin upon her hands in her -favourite attitude. “Am I not serious?” she proceeded, looking at me -with a face of mock solemnity. “Well, Mr. my husband, what do you wish -of me?” - -“Have you ever thought, Ottilie,” said I, “of the position you -have placed me in? I have been obliged to-day to come to a grave -resolution—I have had to make up my mind to give up my country and -remain here for the rest of my life. It is in direct defiance to my -uncle’s commands and last wishes, and it is no pleasant thing to an -Englishman to give up his native land.” - -“If so, why do it?” she said coolly. “I am quite willing to go to -England. In fact, I should rather like it.” - -“Because, before heaven, madam,” said I, irritated beyond bounds, “you -have left me no other alternative. Do you think I am going home to be a -laughing-stock among my people?” - -“Then,” she said with lightning quickness, “you broke your promise of -secrecy. It is your own fault: you should have kept your word.” - -Struck by the irrefutable truth of this remark, although at the same -time my wrath was secretly accumulating against her for this systematic -indifference to her own share in a transaction where she was the chief -person to blame, I kept silence for a moment, drumming with my fingers -on the table. - -“Eh bien!” she said at last, with a note of amusement and tender -indulgence in her voice as a mother might speak to her unreasonable -infant. “This terrible resolution taken, what follows? You have -effaced, I see, your entry in the famous pedigree, and you would now -fill it up with the detail of your real alliance? Is that it?” - -I glanced up at her: her eyes were dancing with an eager light, her lip -trembling as if over some merry word she yet forbore to speak. Her want -of sympathy in sight of my evident distress was hard to bear. - -“Yes,” I answered, “the pedigree must be filled up. I don’t even know -your whole name, nor who your father was, nor yet your mother. I have -your word for it, however,” I said, and the sentence was bitter to me -to speak, “that your family was originally of burgher origin.” - -“Put down,” she answered, “Marie Ottilie Pahlen, daughter of the -deceased Herrn Geheimrath Baron Pahlen, Hof Doctor to his Serene -Highness the Reigning Duke of Lausitz.” - -The pen dropped from my hand. - -“Your father was a doctor?” I asked in an extinguished voice. - -“Ennobled,” she returned promptly, “after successfully piloting his -Serene Highness through a bad attack of jaundice.” - -“And your mother?” I murmured, clinging yet to the hope that on the -mother’s side at least the connection might prove a little more worthy -of the House of Jennico. - -She hesitated and glanced at me. Once more I seemed to see some -inner source of mirth bubble on her lip; or was it only that she was -possessed by the very spirit of mischief? Anyhow, she forced her smile -to gravity again and answered me steadily, while her eyes sought mine -with a curious determined meaning at variance with the mock meekness of -the rest of her countenance. - -“Put down, Monsieur de Jennico,—’and of Sophia Müller, likewise -deceased,’ and add if you like, ’once personal maid to her Serene -Highness the Dowager Duchess, Marie Ottilie of Lausitz.’” - -I sat like a man struck silly, and in the tide of fury that swept -over me my single lucid thought was that if I spoke or moved I should -disgrace myself. And she chose that moment, poor child, to come over to -me and place her arms round my neck, and say caressingly in my ear: - -“Write it, write it, sir, and then tell me that, seeing that I am I, -and that I should not be different from myself were I the daughter of -the Emperor, all this matters little to you since we love each other.” - -I put her from me: my hands were trembling, but I was very gentle. -I brought her round to face me, and she awaited my answer with a -triumphant smile. It was that smile undid me and her. She made too sure -of me—she had conquered me too easily all along. - -“You ask overmuch,” I said when I could command my voice enough to -speak, “you take overmuch for granted. You forget how you have deceived -me; how you have betrayed me. I am willing,” I said, “to believe you -have not been all to blame, that you were encouraged and upheld by -another, but this does not exonerate you from the chief share in a very -questionable transaction.” - -The words fell cuttingly. I saw how the smile faded from her face, saw -how the pretty dimple lingered a second like a pale ghost of itself, -and then was lost in the droop of her lip, which trembled like a -chidden babe’s. And I took a cruel joy to think I had hit her at last. -But in a second or two she spoke with all her old courage. - -“It is well,” she said, “to blame where blame is due. If you wish to -blame any one for our marriage, blame me alone. The other Ottilie -never received your letter; never knew you wanted to marry her; had -nothing to say to what you call my betrayal of you. She would have -prevented this marriage if she could. Nay, I will tell you more: I -believe she might even have married you had I given her the chance. -But I knew you would marry her solely because of her position, of her -title; that you had no love for her beyond your insane love of her -royal blood. I thought you worthy of better things; I thought you could -rise above so pitiable a weakness; I thought you could learn of love -that love alone is worth living for! And if you have not learned, if -indeed, my scholar, you have been taught nothing in love’s school, if -you can lay bare your soul now and tell yourself that you would rather -have had the wife you wanted in your overweening vanity than the wife -I am to you, why then, sir, I have made a grievous mistake, and I am -willing to acknowledge that I have committed an irrevocable wrong both -to you and to myself.” - -Now, as she spoke, I was torn by a strange mixture of feelings, and -my love for her contended with my pride, my wounded vanity, my sense -of injury. I could not in truth answer that I would rather have been -wedded to the Princess, for one thing had these weeks made clear to me -above all things, and that was that married life with her would have -been intolerable. But my anger against the woman I did love in spite -of myself was not lessened by the tone of reproachful superiority she -assumed; and because of the truth of her rebuke it was the harder for -my self-love to bear. Before I could muster words clear enough and -severe enough to answer her with, she proceeded: - -“Come, Basil, come, rise above this failing which is so unworthy -of you. Throw that musty old pedigree away before it eats all the -manliness out of your life. What does it mean but that you can trace -your family up to a greater number of probable rascals, hard and -selfish old men, than another? Be proud of yourself for what you are; -be proud of your forefathers, indeed, if they have done fine deeds of -valour, or virtue; but this cant about birth for birth’s sake, about -the superiority of aristocracy as aristocracy—what does it amount to? -It is to me the most foolish of superstitions. Was that old man,” she -asked, pointing to my uncle, who frowned upon her murderously—“was -that old man a better man than his heiduck János? Was he a braver -soldier? Was he a better servant to _his_ master? Was he more honest -in his dealings? shrewder in his counsel? I tell you I honour János -as much as I would have honoured him. I tell you that if I love you, -I love you for what you are, not because you are descended from some -ignorant savage king, not because you can boast that the blood of the -worst of men and sovereigns, the most profligate, the most treacherous, -the most faithless, Charles Stuart, runs in your veins—I hope, sir, as -little of it as possible.” - -I sprang to my feet. To be thus rated by her who should be kneeling for -forgiveness! It was intolerable. - -“I think,” I thundered, “that, considering your position, a little -humility would be more becoming than this attitude! You should remember -that you are here on tolerance only; that it is to my generosity alone -that you owe the right to call yourself an honest woman.” - -“What do you mean?” said she, as fiercely as I had spoken myself. - -“I mean,” said I—“I mean, madam, that you are what I choose to make -you. That marriage you so skilfully encompassed is, if I choose it, no -marriage.” - -She put her hands to her head like one who has turned suddenly giddy. - -“You married me before God’s altar,” she said in a sort of whisper; -“you married me, and you took me home.” - -I was still too angry to stay my tongue. - -With a bitter laugh, “I married the Princess,” I said, “but I took the -servant home.” - -A burning tide of blood rushed to her brow; I saw it unseeing, as a -man does in passion; but I have lived that scene over and over again, -waking and dreaming, since, and every detail of it is stamped upon my -brain. Next she grew livid white, and spread out her hands, as though a -precipice had suddenly opened before her; and then she cried: - -“And this is your English honour!” and turning on her heel she left me. - -The scorn of her tone cut me like a whip. I swore a mighty oath that -I would never forgive her till she sued for pardon. She must be -taught who was master. In solitude she should reflect, and learn to -rue her sins to me—her audacity—her unwarrantable presumption—her -ingratitude! - -All in my white heat of anger I summoned János and bade him tell his -mistress’s nurse that I had gone into the mountains for a week. And -then I ordered a fresh horse, and followed only by the old man, dashed -off like one possessed into the rocky wastes. - -Alone in the solitary hut, by that hearth where but the night previous -my heart had overflowed with such tenderness for her, I sat and -nursed my grievances and brooded upon my wrongs till they grew to -overpowering size and multiplied a thousandfold; and curious it is that -what I thought of most was the bitter unfairness to me, the monstrous -injustice of her contempt, at the very moment when I had meant to -sacrifice my life and prospects to her. I told myself she did not love -me, had never loved me, and worked myself to a pitch of frenzy over -that thought. The memory of her announcement on this afternoon, the -full knowledge of her deceit, the confession of her worse than burgher -origin, weighed not now one feather-weight in my resentment. That I had -cast from me as the least of my troubles; so can a man change and so -can love swallow up all other passions! No doubt, I told myself, she -was mocking me now in her own mind; no doubt she reckoned that her poor -infatuated fool would come creeping back with all promptitude and beg -for her smile. She should learn at last that she had married a man; not -till I saw her down at my very feet would I take her back to my breast. - -All next day I hunted in a bitter wind and in a bitter temper. There -were clouds arising, my huntsmen told me, that looked very like snow -clouds, and I must beware being snowed up upon the height. I was in -the humour to welcome hardship and even danger, and so the whole day -we rode after an old rogue boar and came back in darkness, at no -small risk, empty handed, and the roughness of my temper by no means -improved. Next day the weather still held up, and again I hunted. -My men must have wondered what had come over their erstwhile genial -master. Even my uncle could not have shown them a harder rule or ridden -them with less consideration through the hardest of ways in the teeth -of the most fiendish of winds. - -That night, again, I sat and brooded by the leaping flame of the pine -logs, but it was in a different mood. All my surly determination, my -righteous indignation, had melted from me, leaving me as weak as water. -Of a sudden in the closest heat of the chase there had come to me an -awful vision of what I had done; a terrible swift realisation of the -insult I had flung at the face of the woman who was indeed the wife of -my heart and love. Oh, God, what had I done? I had sought to humble -her—I had but debased myself! Through the whole day her words, “Is -this your English honour?” had rung a dismal rhythm in my ear to the -beat of my horse’s hoofs on the hard ground, to the call of the horn -amid the winding rocks. The vision of her faded smile, of her dimple -paled to a pitiable ghost, of her babyish drooping lip, and then of her -white face struck with such scorn, haunted me to madness. I sickened -from my food as I sat to my supper, and put down my cup untasted. And -now as the wind whistled and the foreboded storm was gathering upon us, -the longing to see her, to be with her, to kneel at her feet—yes, _I_ -would now be the one to kneel—came upon me with such violence that I -could not withstand it. - -I ordered my horses. I would listen to no remonstrance, no warning. -I must return to Tollendhal, I said, were all the powers of darkness -leagued against me. And return I did. It was a piece of foolhardiness -in which I ran, unheeding, the risk of my life; but the Providence that -protects madmen protected me that night, and Janos and I arrived in -safety through a gale of wind and a fall of snow that might indeed have -proved our death. All covered with rime I ran into the house and up to -the door of her room. It was past midnight, and there I paused for a -moment fearing to disturb her. - -Two or three of the women came pattering down the passage to me and -with expressive gestures addressed me volubly; one of the girls was -weeping. I could not understand a word they said, but with a new -terror I burst open the door of the bedroom. In this appalling dread I -realised for the first time how I loved my wife! - -The room was all empty and all dark; I called for lights. There was no -trace of her presence; her bed had not been slept in. Like a maniac -I tore about the house, seeking her, shrieking her name, demanding -explanations from those to whom my speech meant nothing. I recked -little of my dignity, little of the impression I must create upon -my household! And at last János, his wrinkled face withered up and -contorted with the trouble he dared not speak, gave me the tidings that -the gracious lady had gone. She and her nurse had set forth on foot and -left no message with any one. - -What need is there for me to write down what I endured that black -night? When I look back upon it it is as one may look back upon some -terrible nightmare, some hideous memory of delirium. She had left me, -and left me thus, without a word, and with but one sign. The cursed -pedigree was still spread upon the table where we had quarrelled. I -found upon it her wedding ring. A great cross had been drawn over the -half-written entry of our marriage. That was all, but it was surely -enough. The jewels I had given her were carefully packed in their cases -and laid upon a table in her room. Her own things had been gathered -together the day of her departure, which was the day I left her, and -they had been fetched the next morning by some strange servant in an -unknown travelling coach. More than this I have not been able to glean, -for the storm has rendered the ways impassable; but it is rumoured that -the Countess de Schreckendorf is dead, and that the Princess also has -left the country. - -I have no more to say. It is only two nights ago since I came home to -such misery, and how I have passed the hours, what needs it to set -forth? At times I tell myself that it is better so, that she is false -and base, and that I were the poorest of wretches to forgive her. But -at times again I see the whole naked truth before me, and I know that -she was to me what no woman can be again. And my uncle looks down at me -as I write, with a sour frowning face, and seems—strange it is, yet -true—to revile me now with bitter scorn, not for having kept her, the -roturière, but for having driven her from my castle! - -“Thou hadst her; thou couldst not hold her,” he seems to snarl. - -Old man, old man, it is your teaching that has undone me; do you -reproach me now that it has wrought my ruin? - - * * * * * - -Basil Jennico flung his pen from him; the logs in the hearth had burnt -themselves to white ash; his candles were guttering in their sockets, -and behind the close-drawn curtains the faint dawn was spreading over a -world of snow. The wind still howled, the storm was still unabated. - -“Another day,” groaned he, “another hateful day!” He flung his arms -before him and his head down upon them. So sleep came upon him; and -so old János, creeping in a little later, red-eyed from his watchful -night, found him. The sleeper woke as the man, with hands rough and -gnarled, yet tender as a woman’s, strove to lift him to an easier -attitude; woke and looked at him with a fixed semi-conscious stare. - -“Ottilie!” he cried wildly, and suddenly brought back to grey reality -stopped and clasped his head. There was in the old servant’s hard and -all but immutable face so wistful a yearning of kindred sorrow that, -suddenly catching sight of it in the midst of his despair, the young -man broke down and fell forward like a child upon that faithful breast. - -“Courage, honoured master,” said János, “we will find her again.” - - - - -PART II - - - - -CHAPTER I - - MEMOIR OF CAPTAIN BASIL JENNICO (A PORTION, WRITTEN EARLY IN THE YEAR - 1772, IN HIS ROOMS AT GRIFFIN’S, CURZON STREET) - - -HOME in England once again, if home it can be called, this set of hired -chambers, so dreary within, with outside the lowering fog and the -unfamiliar sounds that were once so familiar. It is all strange, after -eight years’ exile; and the grime, the noise, the narrow limits, the -bustle of this great city, weary me after the noble silence, the wide -life, at Tollendhal. - -It was with no lightening of my thoughts that I saw the white cliffs of -old England break the sullen grey of the horizon, with no patriotic joy -that I set foot on my native soil again, but rather with a heavy, heavy -heart. What can this land be to me now but a land of exile? All that -makes home to a man I have left behind me. - -I hardly know why I have resumed the thread of this miserable story. -God knows that I have no good thing to narrate, and that this -setting forth, this storing, as it were, of my bitter harvest of -disappointments, can bring no solace with it. And yet man must hope as -long as life lasts; and the hope keeps springing up again, in defiance -of all reason, that, somehow, some day, we shall meet again. Therefore -I write, in order that, should such a day come, she may read for -herself and learn how the thought of her filled each moment of my life -since our parting; that she may read how I have sought her, how I have -mourned for her; that she may know that my love has never failed her. - -This it is that heartens me to my task. Moreover, all else is so -savourless that I know not how otherwise to fill the time. I have been -here five weeks; there are many houses where I am welcome, many friends -who would gladly lend me their company, many places where young men can -find distraction of divers kinds and degrees; but I have not succeeded -in bringing myself to take up the new life with any zest: I had rather -dwell upon the past in spite of all its bitterness, than face the -desolation of the present. - -It was on the third day of the great storm that the pen fell from my -hand at Tollendhal, and for four and twenty hours more that self-same -storm raged in violence. One word of my old servant’s had brought me -on a sudden to a definite purpose. I was full of eager hope of tracing -her, of finding her, once it were possible to start upon the quest. For -the gale which kept me prisoner must have retarded her likewise; and -even with two days’ start, I told myself, she could not have gone far -upon her road. - -But I reckoned without the difficulties which the first great snowfall -of the year, before the hard frost comes to make it passable for -sledging, was creating for us in these heights where the drifts fill to -such depth. Day and night my fellows worked to cut a way for me down to -the imperial road; and I worked with them, watched, encouraged them, -and all, it seemed, to so little purpose that I thought I should have -gone mad outright. The cruel heavens now smiled, now frowned, upon our -work, so that, between frost and thaw and thaw and frost, the task was -doubled, and my prison bars seemed to grow stronger instead of less. - -In this way it came to pass that it was full ten days from the time -that she had left Tollendhal that I was at length able to start forth -in pursuit. - -My first stage was of course to the castle of the old Countess -Schreckendorf, where I found the place well-nigh deserted, its mistress -having been, even as I had been informed, a fortnight dead and buried. -But there was a servant in charge of the empty, desolate house, and -from her I gleaned tidings both precise and sufficient. - -The Princess had remained quietly at Schreckendorf during the weeks -which had followed upon my marriage, but on the day previous to our -return to Tollendhal from the shooting-lodge, a couple of couriers had -arrived at the Countess’s gates close one upon the other, bringing, it -would seem, important letters for the Princess, who had been greatly -agitated upon receipt of them. She had hastily despatched a mounted -messenger to my wife, whether with a private communication from herself -or merely to forward missives addressed to her from her own home I know -not; but at any rate the papers which Ottilie had hidden from me that -fatal day were brought her by this man. After she left Tollendhal a few -hours later, my wife had arrived at Schreckendorf in a peasant’s cart. -That same evening two travelling coaches, bringing ladies, officers, -and servants, had made their appearance at the castle; it was one of -these coaches which went to the stronghouse next morning and bore away -Ottilie’s belongings. In the afternoon the whole party, including my -wife, had set forth in great haste for the north, despite universal -warning of the gathering storm. There could be no doubt but that their -destination was Lausitz, most probably the Residence itself, Budissin. - -When I had ascertained all this I promptly decided upon my course. -Taking with me János only, I instantly started for the next post-town, -where we were able to secure fresh horses, and whence we pushed on the -same night some twenty miles farther. - -Not until the sixth evening, however, despite our extraordinarily hard -travelling, did we, mounted upon a pair of sorry and worn-out nags, -find ourselves crossing the bridge under the towered gates of Budissin. -That was then the sixteenth day from the date of my wife’s flight. - -It seemed a singularly deserted town as we stumbled over the cobbles of -the streets, with the early dusk of the November day closing in upon -us—so few people passed us as we went, so few windows cast a light -into the gloom, so many houses and shops presented but blank closed -shutter-fronts. János knew his way, having ridden with my uncle in all -this district during the late war. There was a very good inn, he told -me, on the Burg Platz, in the shadow of the palace; and as nothing -could suit my purpose better, to the “Silver Lion of Lusatia” we -therefore turned our horses’ heads. - -It was cheering, after our long wayfaring, and the dismal -nightmare-like impression of our passage through the empty town, to see -the casements of that same “Silver Lion” shine afar off ruddily; and -my heart leaped within me to discern, dimly sketched behind it, the -towering outline of the palace, wherein, no doubt, my lost bird had -found refuge. - -The voice of the red-faced host who, at sound of clattering hoofs -before his door, came bustling to greet us as fast as his goodly bulk -would allow, struck on my ear with cheering omen. - -“God greet ye, my lords!” he cried, as he lent a shoulder for my -descent; “you are welcome this bitter night to fireside and supper. -Enter, my lords; I have good wine, good beds, good supper, for your -lordships, and the best beer that is brewed between Munich and Berlin. -Joseph, thou rag, see to his lordship’s horses; wife, come greet our -worshipful visitors!” - -I write down the jargon much as I heard it, for, as I write, I am back -again at that moment and feel once more the glow of hope which crept -into my heart, even as the genial warmth of the room unbent my frozen -limbs. I had reached my journey’s end, and the old rhyme in the play, -“journeys end in lovers meeting,” rang a merry burden in my thoughts. - -I marvel now that my hopes should have been so forward; that I should -have reckoned so much more upon her woman’s love than upon her woman’s -pride. Indeed, I had not deemed my sin so great but that my penitence -would amply atone. So I was all eagerness to satisfy my hungering heart -by tidings of her, and could hardly sit still to my supper—though -we had ridden hard and I was famished—till I had induced mine host -to sit beside me and crack a bottle of his most recommended Rhenish, -which should unloose a tongue that scarcely needed such inducement. For -her sake, that no scandal might be bruited about her fair name, I had -determined to proceed cautiously. - -“You have a fine town here, friend,” said I, “so far as I can judge -this dark night.” - -“Truly, your lordship may say so,” said he, and smacked his lips that I -might understand how great a relish this fruit of his cellar left on a -man’s palate. - -“But it has a deserted look,” said I idly, just to encourage him in -talk; “so many houses shut up—so few people about.” - -He rolled the wine round his mouth in a reflective manner, then -swallowed it with a gulp, and threw an uneasy look at me. At the same -instant there flashed upon my mind what, strange as it may seem, I -had clean forgotten in the turmoil of my thoughts and the hurry of my -pursuit: the reason for the very state of affairs I was commenting -on—the plague of smallpox, the malady that had driven the Princess to -my land! Ay, in very truth the town had a plague-stricken look, and I -felt myself turn pale to think my wife had come back to this nest of -infection. - -“The sickness,” said I then quickly,—“has it abated here? Nay, I know -all about it, man, and have no fear of it. But how fares it in the town -and in the palace?” - -“Oh, the sickness!” quoth mine host with a great awkward laugh. -“His lordship means these few little cases of smallpox. Na, it had -been nothing, and is all over now; only folk were such cowards and -frightened themselves sick, and families fled because of this same -foolish fear. Now myself, as his lordship sees, myself and my family -and my servants, we have not known a day’s ill-health, because we kept -our hearts up and drank good stuff. ’It is,’ as I said to his Highness -himself, who never left the place, but went out in our midst, the noble -prince, and spat at fear (besides that he had already had it, like -myself),—’it is the wine,’ said I, ’or the beer, if you know where to -get it, that keeps a man sound.’ And his Highness says to me——” - -But here I interrupted the speaker in a voice the trembling of which I -could not control. - -“Is the Duke at the palace now, then, with all his household?” - -“He has been so, my lord,” said the man eagerly, “up to the last week; -so long, indeed, as there was a suspicion of illness among us. But -now he is at the summer castle, Ottilienruhe, near Rothenburg. ’Tis -but three leagues from the town. The Princess, sir, is always fond -of Ottilienruhe, even in this cold weather. And as she has but just -returned from visiting at another Court, his Highness, her father, has -gone to join her thither. Our Princess, sir, is a most beautiful young -lady; nay, if you will allow me, I will show you a portrait of her, -which we have framed in my wife’s room. A beautiful young lady, sir! -There will be rare festivities when she weds her cousin, the Margrave -of Liegnitz-Rothenburg. We have his portrait, too—a very noble -gentleman! I would show you these pictures; I think you would admire -them.” - -But I arrested him with a gesture, as, in the hopes of distracting my -attention from an awkward topic, he was about to roll his bulk in quest -of these treasures. - -I had no wish, indeed, to feast my eyes upon that face, the lineaments -of which, with all their beauty, I could not bear to recall. What was -it to me whom _that_ Ottilie married? If they had had a portrait of my -Ottilie, indeed!... But, sweet soul, she had told me herself of her -obscurity and unimportance. - -“And so,” said I, “they are at the summer palace, your reigning family?” - -And though I had hugged the thought of her dear living presence so -close to me this night, behind yonder palace walls, I nevertheless -rejoiced to learn that she was safer harboured. - -“The Princess has her retinue with her, I suppose?” - -“Oh, ay,” said the innkeeper, rising as he spoke and clacking his -tongue again over the last drop of his wine. “Though our Princess is -so simple a lass, if I may say so without disrespect, and loves not -Court fashions. But she has one favourite companion, and they are as -sisters together, so that when one sees her Highness, one may be sure -the Fräulein is not far distant. Oh, ay, sir, they have returned from -their travels together, though I have heard it rumoured that one or two -of her Highness’s attendants have been left behind, dead or ailing. Na, -it is better to stay at home: strange places are unwholesome!” - -He opened the stove door and shoved in two or three great logs, and I -turned and stretched my limbs to the warmth with lazy content, and, for -the first time for many a long day and night, a restful heart. - -To-morrow I should see her. When I slept that night I dreamed golden -dreams. - - * * * * * - -The next day dawned upon a world all involved in creeping grizzling -mist, that seemed to ooze even into the comfortable rooms of the -“Silver Lion”; that wrapped from my view the lofty towers of the palace -beyond my window, and damped even my buoyant confidence. My good János -had the toothache, and though it was not in him to complain, the -sight of his swollen, suffering face did not further encourage me to -cheer. A little before noon we mounted to ride forth to Ottilienruhe -in the dismal weather. Our garments, despite the heiduck’s endless -brushing, bore many traces of our hard journey. We cut but a poor -figure, I thought, in these stained, rusty clothes; and the young -lord of Tollendhal was ill-mounted upon the wretched jade, which had, -nevertheless, faithfully served him upon his last cruel stage. The -poor nag was yet full weary, and stumbled and drooped her head, while -János’s white-faced bay might have stood for the very image of starving -antiquity. - -I winced as I thought of Ottilie’s mocking glance; but the haste to see -her overcame even my delicate vanity. - -Following my host’s directions, who marvelled greatly at our -eccentricity that we should leave a warm stove door and good cheer from -mere travellers’ curiosity on such a day, we pattered forth through -the town again—through streets yet more ghost-like in their daylight -emptiness than they had seemed yestereven; pattered once more across -the wood of the bridge beneath which the sullen waters ran, without -appearing to run, as grey and leaden as the heavens above. - -And after two hours’ dreary tramp along a poplar-bordered, deserted -road, we saw before us the gilded iron gateway of Ottilienruhe. Beyond -there was a vision of French gardens; of bowling-greens all drenched; -of flat terraces whereon the yews, fantastically cut, stood about like -the pieces of a chessboard. Beyond that again rose the odd Grecian -porticos and colonnades, the Chinese cupolas, appertaining to the -summer pleasaunce of the reigning house. - -It might have looked fair enough under bright skies in summer weather, -with roses on the empty beds and sunshine on the little yellow spires; -but it seemed a most desolate place as it lay beneath my eyes that -noon. I told myself I should find sunshine enough within, yet my heart -lay heavy in my breast. - -A sentry, with his pointed fur cap drawn down over his eyes, with -the collar of his great-coat drawn up above his ears, so that of his -countenance only the end of a red nose was visible to the world, -marched up and down before the gates, and, as we made ready to halt, -challenged us roughly. - -At the sound of his call two more sentries appeared at different -points, and tramped towards us with suspicion in their bearing. - -Evidently the Duke was well guarded. I rode a few steps forward, when, -to my astonishment, it being full peace-time, the fellow brought his -musket to the ready, and again cautioned me to pass on my way. - -“But my way is to the palace,” I bawled to him defiantly, despite -the consciousness that the doubtful impression I must myself create -could not be mitigated by the sight of János behind me. For I am -bound to say that in the plain garb I had insisted on his donning, -now much disordered, as I have said, by our travels, with the natural -grimness of his countenance enhanced by a screw of pain, a more -truculent-looking ruffian it would have been hard to find. - -But so far I did not anticipate any more serious difficulty than what -a few arguments could remove: and I carried a heavy purse. So I added -boldly: - -“I have business at the palace.” - -The man lowered his weapon and came a step nearer. - -“Whence come you?” he asked more civilly. - -“From Budissin,” said I. - -The musket instantly went up again, and its bearer retreated hastily a -couple of paces. - -“‘Tis against orders,” he said, “because of the sickness; no one from -Budissin may pass the gates.” - -The sickness again! I had, then, by my impetuosity, my haste to follow -in her traces, but raised a new barrier between us. - -I dismounted, threw my reins to János, and advanced upon the soldier. - -“But, friend,” said I—— - -The fellow covered me with his weapon. - -“Stand!” he cried roughly; “stand, or I fire!” - -I stood back stock-still. Here was a quandary indeed! - -“But, my God!” I cried to him, “I am a traveller. I have but passed -through the town. I have come these eighty leagues upon urgent -business, and I must see some one who I am told is in the palace.” - -So saying I drew forth a louis d’or, a stock of which I kept loose for -such emergencies in my side pocket, and tossed it to the rascal. - -“Now get me speech with a person in authority,” said I. - -With one hand, and without lowering his fire-lock, he nimbly caught the -coin on the fling and placed it in his mouth, after which he shook his -head and remarked indistinctly: - -“‘Tis no use.” - -And then at last my sorely-tried patience broke down, impotent -otherwise in front of his menacing barrel. I cursed him long and -loud with that choiceness and variety of epithet of which my own -squadron-life experience as well as my apprenticeship to my great-uncle -had given me a command. - -The clamour we made first drew the other soldiers, and next a little -dapper officer from the guard-room behind the inner gate, who ran out -towards us, and at the utmost pitch of his naturally piping voice -demanded in the name of all gods, thunders, and lightning-blasts what -the matter was. - -My particular sentinel’s utterance was something impeded by the louis -d’or in his cheek, and I was consequently able to offer an explanation -before him. Uncovering my head and bowing, I introduced myself in -elegant phraseology, though of necessity, for the distance between us, -in tones more suited to the parade ground than to a polite ceremony, -and laid bare my unfortunate position. I bewailed that through my brief -halt in Budissin, ignorant of the infection, I had evidently made -myself amenable to quarantine, and requested his courteous assistance -in the matter. - -My name was evidently quite unfamiliar to his ears, but, perceiving -that he had to deal with an equal, the little officer at once returned -my salute with an extra flourish, and my civility by ordering the -sentry to stand aside. Then, advancing gingerly in the mud to a more -reasonable interval for conversation, he informed me, with another -sweeping bow, that he was Captain Freiherr von Krappitz, and that, -while it would be his pleasure to serve me in every possible manner, he -regretted deeply that his orders were such that he could only ratify -the sentry’s conduct. - -“And are there no means, then,” cried I “by which I can communicate in -person with any resident of the palace?” - -“In person,” said the officer “I regret, none. His Serene Highness’s -orders are stringent, and when I tell you that our Princess is actually -behind these walls, you will understand the necessity. The sickness has -been appalling,” he added. - -He must have seen the blank dismay upon my countenance, for his own -sharp visage expressed a comical mixture of sympathy and curiosity, and -again approaching two steps he proceeded: - -“I could perhaps convey some message. I shall soon be relieved from -duty here. The person you wish to see is——?” - -“It is a lady,” said I, flushing. - -This was what the little gentleman had evidently expected. Suppressing -a grin of satisfaction, he gave another salute and placed himself -quite at my disposal. But I had an unsurmountable objection to announce -my real relationship to the woman who had fled from my protection. -Courteous as my interlocutor was, and honourable and kind as he seemed -to be, I could send no message to my wife through him. - -“If you will see to the safe delivery of a letter,” said I, “I should -be grateful indeed.” - -His face fell. - -“It is possible, perhaps,” he said dubiously, “but less easy of -accomplishment. There will be the necessity of disinfection. If you -think your billet-doux—forgive me for supposing you to be a sufferer -from the tender passion, and believe me I speak with sympathy” (here he -thumped his little chest and heaved from its restricted depths a noisy -sigh)—“if you think your billet-doux will not lose of its sweetness by -a prolonged immersion in vinegar, I will do what I can. Nay, I think I -can promise you that your letter will be delivered, if you will kindly -inform me who the fair recipient is to be.” - -Again I hesitated. I would not call her by her maiden name; to speak -of her as my wife, to bawl my strange story on the high road, was not -only intolerable to my pride, but seemed inadvisable and certainly -imprudent in my ignorance of her attitude at the Court. - -“It is,” said I, “one of your Princess’s Court ladies.” And here his -volubility spared me further circumlocution. - -“It can certainly not be,” he cried, “that you have formed an unhappy -attachment for the Frau Gräfin von Kornstein? There remains then only -the young Comtesse d’Assier, Fräulein von Auerbach and her sister, and -Fräulein Ottilie Pahlen—these are all of our fair circle that are now -in attendance at the palace.” - -“It is the last lady,” I said, and was at once glad of my own -circumspection and troubled in my mind that she should be keeping her -secret so well. - -“Mes compliments,” said he with a smirk, but I thought also with a -shade of patronage, as if by mentioning her last he had also shown her -to be the last in his worldly esteem. Once, doubtless, this would have -galled me. - -“Then if I write now,” I cried, “and you, according to your kind offer, -take charge of my letter, how soon can it be in her hands?” - -“But as soon as the guard has relieved me, good sir, am I free to act -the gallant Mercury—pity it is that these sordid details of sickness -and quarantine should come to spoil so pretty an errand. This was a -fair Court for Cupid before the ugly plague came on us. Yes,” he added, -“I have seen days!” - -I had already drawn out my tablets, and, thanking him hurriedly -(without, I fear, evincing much interest in his sentimental -reflections), turned and, making a standing desk of my horse, with the -sheet spread upon the saddle, began, all in the dreary drizzle, to -trace with fingers stiffened from the cold the few lines which were to -bring my wife back to me. - -I had little time for composition, and so wrote the words as they -welled up from my heart. - -“Dear love,” said I, in the French which had been the language of our -happiest moments, “your poor scholar has learnt his lesson so well -that he cannot live without his teacher. Forget what has come between -us. Remember only all that unites us, and forgive. I have, it seems, -involved myself in difficulty by passing through Budissin, and so will, -I fear, have to endure delay before being permitted sight of your -sweet face again. But let me have a word which may help me to bear the -separation, let me know that I may carry home my wife.” I signed it, -“Your poor scholar and loving husband.” Then I folded it, fastened it -with a wafer, and after a minute’s pause decided to burn my ships and -address it by the right name of her to whom I destined it—“Madame -Ottilie de Jennico, Dame d’honneur de S. A. S. la Princesse Marie -Ottilie de Lusace.” - -Bending over the living desk,—the poor patient brute never budged but -for his heaving flanks,—I laid for a second, unperceived I thought, my -lips upon that name which haunted me, sleeping and waking, and turning, -with the letter in my hand, found the Freiherr watching me, with his -head upon one side and so comic an air of sympathy that, at another -moment, I should have burst out laughing. - -“It is mille dommages,” quoth he as, bending his supple spine again, -he drew his sword with a charming gesture of courtesy, “that this -chaste salute should have to pass through the bitter waves of the Court -doctor’s vinegar basin before reaching the virginal lips for which it -is intended.” - -“Then I may rely upon your countenance?” said I, unmindful of his mock -Versailles floweriness as I fixed my missive to the point of the sword -extended towards me for that purpose by the longest arm the little -fellow could make. I knew he would not read the tell-tale inscription -until the unpoetic process he had so feelingly lamented should have -been gone through, and I wondered something anxiously whether it would -not prove another complication, my wife in her wounded pride having -thus chosen to conceal our marriage—in truth, I might have known it: -had she not shaken off my ring? Seeing upon what grounds we had parted, -however, I dared not have addressed her otherwise, and so could see no -way but to run some risk. - -“When may I hope to receive an answer?—you will forgive my -impatience,” said I, with a somewhat rueful smile, “for you have some -knowledge of the human heart, I see, and so I venture further to -trespass on your great courtesy. I will meet here any messenger you may -depute at any hour you name this afternoon.” - -“Myself, sir, myself,” said the good-natured gentleman, “and in as -short a space as possible. Shall we say three o’clock?” - -There were then a few minutes wanting to noon by my uncle’s famous -chronometer. Three hours seemed long, but, as we must ever learn to do -in life, I had to be content with a slice where I wanted the loaf. (Now -I have not even a crumb for my starving heart, and yet I live.) - -As I had surmised, my messenger continued to hold the missive at the -extreme length of his weapon and arm, while we made our divers congees -and compliments. Thus we parted, he to withdraw to his guard-house, and -I, with my attendant, to ride back to the nearest village, with what -appetite we might for our noonday meal. - -I rode alone again to the rendezvous, full early, poor fool! János -I had sent on to find lodgings for me in the neighbourhood, out of -range of infection, so that my time of purgatory need not be an hour -prolonged. - -The sky had cleared somewhat and it rained no more, but there was now -a penetrating and moisture-charged wind. A little after the stroke of -three my friend of the morning came forth, waved aside the sentry as -before, and halted within the former distance, while I dismounted. His -countenance was far from bearing the beaming cordiality with which -he had last surveyed me, nor had his bow anything like its previous -depth and roundness. He drew a folded paper from his pocket, attached -it to the point of his sword, according to the process I had already -witnessed, and presented it to me, observing drily: - -“I regret, sir, that there seems to be some mistake about this matter. -The Court doctor, who duly delivered the letter at the palace, informs -me that none of her Highness’s ladies-in-waiting will consent to -receive it, it being indeed addressed to some person unknown among -them. There is no lady of the name of Jennico among her Highness’s -attendants.” - -I felt myself blanching. - -“Am I to understand,” said I, “that Fräulein Ottilie Pahlen has -repudiated this letter?” - -“My good sir,” said he, looking at me, I thought, with a sort of -compassion, as if he feared I was weak in my head, “I understand from -the Court doctor that Mademoiselle Pahlen was the lady to whom the -letter was at once offered, according to my request and yours. There is -perhaps some mystery?”—here his interest seemed to flicker up again, -and he smiled as who would say, “_confide in me_”; but I could not -bring my tongue to this humiliation, less than ever then. - -I flicked the poor, vinegar-sodden, despised epistle from the point of -his sword, and, spreading it out once again, added to it in a sort of -frenzy this appeal: - -“For God’s sake forgive me! You cannot mean to send me away like this. -Ottilie, write me one line, for from my soul I love you.” - -Then I pasted the sheet again, and, drawing a line through the title, -wrote above it in great letters: - -“Fräulein Ottilie Pahlen,” and then I said to the officer: - -“You will be doing a deed of truer kindness than you can imagine, -Captain von Krappitz, if you will have this letter placed again in the -hands of Fräulein Pahlen. More I cannot say now, but some day, if my -fortune is not more evil than I dare reflect upon, I will explain.” - -“Wait here half an hour,” he responded with a return of his good -nature; “I am off duty and free for the rest of the day. If I can -induce the Court doctor to attend to me—in truth, he is of a very -surly mood this afternoon—I trust you may see me return a messenger of -better tidings.” - -Besides a very bubbling heat of curiosity there was real amiability in -this readiness to help me. - -The half hour sped and half an hour beyond it—why do I linger upon -such details? From sheer cowardly reluctance, I believe, to describe -those moments of my great despair. - -And then a cockscomb of a servant fellow, in gorgeous livery and -ribboned cue, stepped forth from the gates, sniffing a bunch of -stinking herbs, and stood and surveyed me for a second from head to -foot, grinning all over his insolent visage, till I wonder how I kept -my riding-whip from searing it across. - -“Well, sir?” said I sternly. - -He felt, maybe, the note of master in my voice, for he cringed a -little, and, more civilly than his countenance suggested, requested to -know if I was the gentleman with whom Captain the Freiherr von Krappitz -had recently been conversing. Upon my reply he gingerly held up a -filthy rag of paper, in which I recognised, with a failing of the heart -such as I cannot set forth in words, my own letter once more. And in -sight of my discomfiture, resuming his native impudence, he proceeded -in loud tones: - -“My master bids me inform you that he can no longer be the means of -annoying a young lady whom he respects so much as Mademoiselle Pahlen. -She has requested that your letter may be returned to you again, and -declares that she knows no such person as yourself, and is quite at a -loss why she should be made the object of this strange persecution.” - -The rogue sang out the words as one repeating a lesson in which he has -been well drilled. - -As I stood staring at him, all other feelings swallowed up in the -overwhelming tide of my disappointment, I saw him, as in a dream, -toss the much-travelled note in the mud between us, turn on his heel, -exchange a grin with the nearest sentry, jerk his thumb over his -shoulder in my direction, tap his forehead significantly, and finally -swagger out of sight behind the little wicket. - -And still I stood immovable, unable to formulate a single thought in my -paralysed brain, the whole world before me a dull blank, yet knowing -that, when I should begin to feel again, it would be hell indeed. - -A shout from the sentry suddenly aroused me. - -“‘Tis better,” he called, “that you should move on.” - -And in good sooth what had I more to do before those gates? I mounted -my horse and rode backwards and forwards upon that wretched scrap of -paper that had been charged with all the dearest longings of my heart, -until it lay indistinguishable in the mud around it. Then I set spurs -to my jade, and we rode, a well-matched couple, away towards the -strange village where I was to meet János. - - * * * * * - -With the memory of that bitterest hour of his life burning so hot -within him that he could continue his sedentary task no longer, but -must rise and pace the room after the sullen way now well known to -János as betokening his master’s worst moments, Basil Jennico laughed -aloud. Pride must have a fall! God knows his pride had had falls -enough to kill the most robust of vices. - -Had ever man been so humiliated, so contemned as he? Had ever poor soul -been made to suffer more relentlessly where it had sinned? - -“I have been brought low, very low,” said he to himself, and thought of -the early days at Tollendhal when its young lord had deemed the whole -earth created for his use. Yet, even as he spoke, he knew in his heart -that the pride that was born in him would die with him only, and that -if it had been mastered awhile it was only but because love had been -stronger still. - -When he had taken the roturière unreservedly to his heart; when he -had returned from the mountains to seek reconciliation; when he had -followed her upon her flight, had twice besought her to return to him; -when he had made his third and last futile appeal in the face of a -slashing rebuff, pride had lain beneath the heel of love. He had been -beaten, after all, by a pride greater than his own; and he knew that -were she to call him even now, he would come to her bidding in spite of -all and through all. - -The boards of the narrow, irregular room creaked beneath his impatient -tread. Outside, the sounds of traffic were dying away. The last -belated coaches had clattered down the streets, the tall running -footman had extinguished his link. Basil Jennico turned instinctively -towards the south, like the restless compass-needle, a way that had -grown into a habit of late as his spirit strove to bridge across the -leagues of sea and land that lay between him and his wife. - -Was she thinking of him now? What was his curse was at the same time -his triumph: he defied her to forget him any more than he could forget -her! Those hours, had she not shared them with him? Come what would, no -man could lay claim to be to her what he had been. _No man—that way -madness lay!_... - -He looked round at the pages scored with his writings and gave a -heart-sick sigh, and then at the door of the room beyond, wherein -stood that huge four-post bed where he had tossed through such -sleepless hours and dreamed such dreams that the waking moment held the -bitterness of death. Next he thought of the town beyond, so full, yet -to him so empty. - -How to pass the time that went by with such leaden feet? The days were -bad enough, but the nights—the nights were terrible! Should he don his -most brilliant suit and hie him out into the throng of men of fashion? -Some of the Woschutzski gold would not come amiss at the dicing-table -of my Lady Brambury, or at the Cocoa-tree, or yet the Hummums, where -(his head being as strong as the best of them) he could crack a few -bottles in good company. Good company, forsooth! What could all the -world be to him for want of that one small being? He might drink -himself into oblivion, perhaps, a few hours’ oblivion, and be carried -home in the early morning and wake at midday with a new headache and -the old heartache. Pah! - -Of three evils choose the least: since the great feather bed would hold -no sleep yet awhile; since to drag his misery into company was to add -fire to its fever, Mr. Jennico sat down again to his task, hoping so to -weary his brain that it would grant him a few hours’ dreamless rest. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -CAPTAIN BASIL JENNICO’S MEMOIR CONTINUED - - -THERE is very little more to tell. The new inn wherein I found János -established was but a poor place in a poor village, a sort of summer -resort abandoned in winter-time save by its own wretched inhabitants. -The private chamber allotted to me—it was the only one—was bitter -cold, but my choice lay between that and the common room below, full of -evil smells and reeking boors and stifling stove heat. - -But I was in no mood to reck of bodily inconvenience. My further -action had to be determined upon; and, torn two ways between anger and -longing, I passed the evening and the greater part of the night in -futile battle with myself. - -At length I resolved upon a plan which brought some calm into my soul, -and with it a creeping ray of hope. - -I would lay my case before the Princess herself. She had been ever -kindly in her dealings towards me. I had no reason to imagine but that -she was well disposed in my favour; she had had no part in her maid -of honour’s double dealings with me: I would pray her to speak to the -wayward being on my behalf, to place before her her duty towards the -husband she had herself chosen. - -Thus next morning, as clearly, temperately, and respectfully as might -be, I indited my letter, sealed it upon each fold with the Jennico -coat-of-arms, and, after deliberation, despatched János with it. The -fellow had, according to my orders, purchased fresh horses, and cut a -better figure than the yesterday’s, when he set off upon his errand. -Duly and minutely instructed, he was to present himself at another -gate of the palace, and I trusted that, making good use of the purse -with which he was supplied, his mission might be more successfully -accomplished than had been mine. - -And indeed, so far as he was concerned, this was the case. He came -back sooner than I had supposed it possible, to inform me that, having -been able to say he was not from Budissin, he had been received with -civility, and permitted to wait at the guard-house of the north -entrance while my letter was carried to the palace. After a short time, -the messenger who had taken charge of it had returned, demanded and -carefully noted my name, qualities, and exact whereabouts, and bidden -him go back to his master with the assurance that the Princess would -send her answer. - -I waited, tramping the short breadth of my miserable room like a caged -wolf, anxiously peering every other minute through the rain-stained -window which overlooked the high road. - -Reason seemed to offer but one conclusion concerning the result of -the last appeal: she would come back to me. My offence—bad as it had -been, unmanly towards the woman who had lain in my arms, unworthy of -a gentleman towards the lady whom he had resolved to acknowledge as -his wife—my offence was not one that so true a penitence might not -amply atone for. That was what reason said. But, as often as confidence -began to rise in my heart, an instinctive dread overcame it, an -unaccountable, ominous misgiving that the happiness I had once held in -my hand and so perversely cast from me was never to be mine again. And, -as the hours slowly fell away, the dread became more poignant, and the -effort to hope more futile. - -János had returned with his message about noon. It must have been at -least five o’clock (for the world outside was wrapped in murky shadow) -when there came a sound on the road that made my heart leap: a clatter -of horses’ hoofs and the rumbling of a coach. I threw open my window -and thrust out my head. How vividly the impression comes back on me -now!—the cold rain upon my throbbing temples, the blinding light of -joy that filled my brain as I strained my eyes to distinguish in the -dusk the nature of the vehicle which announced its approach with such -important noise. It was a carriage, guarded by an escort of dragoons, -who rode by the door, musket on thigh. An escort! It must be the -Princess herself: the Princess come in person, the noble and gentle -lady, to bring me back my wife, my love! - -Fool! Fool! Fool thrice told! for my vainglorious self-conceit, my -loving, yearning heart! - -My spirits bounded at one leap to their old important, arrogant level. -I threw a hasty glance in the mirror to note that the pallor of my -countenance and the disorder of my unpowdered hair were after all -not unbecoming. As I dashed along the narrow wooden passage and down -the breakneck creaking stairs I will not say that in all the glow of -my heart, that had been so cold, there was not now, in this sudden -relief from the iron pressure of anxiety, a point of anger against the -little truant—a vague determination to establish a certain balance of -account, to inflict some mild penance upon her as a set-off against the -very bitter one she had imposed on me. A minute ago I would have knelt -before her and humbled myself to the very dust: when I reached the door -of the drinking-room I was already pluming myself upon a resolution to -be merciful. - -I broke into the room out of the darkness with my head high, and was at -first so dazzled by the light within, as well as by the reeling triumph -in my brain, that for an instant I could distinguish nothing. - -Then, with a sickening revulsion, with such rage as may have torn the -soul of Lucifer struck from the heights of heaven to the depths of -hell, I saw the single figure of Captain von Krappitz standing in the -middle of the floor with much gravity and importance of demeanour. -Flattened against the walls, the boors stood open-mouthed, all struck -with amazement; and the little host was bowing anxiously to the belaced -officer. Two dragoons guarded the door. - -Before even a word was uttered I felt that all was over for me. - -Concentrating my energies, then, to face misfortune with as brave a -front as I might, I halted before my friend of yesterday, and waited in -silence for him to open proceedings. - -He bowed to me with great courtesy, looking upon me the while with eyes -at once compassionate, curious, and yet respectful, as though upon one -of newly-discovered importance, and said: - -“I grieve, sir, to be the bearer of an order which may cause you -displeasure, but I beg you, being a soldier yourself, to consider me -only as the instrument which does not presume to judge but obeys. Be -pleased to read this—it is addressed to you.” - -I took the great sealed envelope with fingers as cold and heavy as -marble, broke it open mechanically, and read. At first it was without -any comprehension of the words, which were nevertheless set forth in a -very free, flowing hand, but presently, as the blood rushed in a tide -of sudden anger to my brain, with a quickening and redoubled intensity -of intelligence. - - “The Princess Marie Ottilie of Sachs-Lausitz,” so ran the precious - document, “has received M. de Jennico’s letter concerning a certain - lady. - - “M. de Jennico has already been given clearly to understand that his - importunities are distressing. - - “As the lady in question is a member of the Princess’s household, M. - de Jennico will not be surprised at the steps which are now taken to - secure her against further persecution. He is advised to accept the - escort of the officer who carries this letter, and warned that any - attempt at resistance, or any future infringement of the order issued - by command of his Serene Highness, will be visited in the severest - manner.” - -In a bloody heat of rage I looked up, ready for any folly—to -strangle the poor courteous little instrument of a woman’s implacable -resentment—to find death on the bayonets of the hulking sentinels at -the door, and be glad of it, so that I had shed somebody’s blood for -these insults! But, meeting Captain von Krappitz’s steady glance, I -paused. And in that pause my sense returned. - -If love itself be a madness, as they say, what name shall we give to -our wrath against those that we love! For that minute no poor chained -Bedlamite could have been more dangerously mad than I. But my British -dread of ridicule saved my life that day, and perhaps that of others -besides. - -Perhaps also the real pity, the sympathy, that was stamped on the -captain’s honest face had something to say to calming me. At any rate, -I recovered from my convulsion, and awoke to the fact that blood was -running down my shirt from where I had clenched my teeth upon my lip. - -I must have been a fearsome object to behold, and I have a good opinion -of Captain von Krappitz’s coolness that he should thus have stood and -faced a man of twice his size and, in such a frenzy, of probably four -times his strength, with never a signal to his guard or even a step in -retreat. - -Said this gentleman then, delicately averting his eyes from my -countenance, so soon as he saw I had come to my senses: - -“If you will glance at this paper you will see that my orders are -stringent, and I shall be greatly indebted to your courtesy if you -will co-operate in their being carried out in the least unpleasant -manner possible. Indeed, sir,” he added in my ear hastily and kindly, -“resistance would be worse than useless.” - -I glanced at the paper he presented to me, caught the words: “Order -to Captain Freiherr von Krappitz to convey M. de Jennico beyond the -frontier of Lusatia, at any point he may himself choose”; caught a -further glimpse of such expressions: “formal warning to M. de Jennico -never to set foot more within the dominions of the Duke of Lausitz,” -“severe penalty,” and so forth. I glanced, and tossed the paper -contemptuously on the table. - -That wife of mine had greater interest at the Court than she had been -wont to pretend, and she was using it to some purpose. She was mightily -determined that her offending husband should pay his debt to her pride, -to the last stripe of his punishment. - -I smiled in the bitterness of my soul. I was sane enough now, God -knows! - -Well, she should have her wish, she should be persecuted no longer. - -“I place myself entirely at your convenience,” said M. de Krappitz -discreetly, adding, however, the significant remark, “my order gives me -twelve hours.” - -He picked up the document as he spoke, folded it carefully, and placed -it in his breast pocket. - -“Oh, as for me,” said I, “I ask for no respite.” (Could I desire to -waste a second before shaking the dust of this cursed country from -my feet?) “The time but to warn my servant and bid him truss up my -portmanteau and saddle the horses. I understand,” I added, with what, -I fear, was a withering smile, “that you are kind enough to offer me a -seat in your carriage?” - -“Ah, my dear sir,” returned the little man, with an expression of -relief, “what a delightful thing it is to deal with an homme d’esprit!” - -And so, in scarce half-an-hour’s time, the triumphal procession was -ready to set forth. I entered the coach, the Freiherr took his seat -behind me, János, impassive, mounted his horse between two dragoons, -whilst my own mount was led by a third soldier in the rear. And in this -order we set off at a round pace for the Silesian frontier, where I -begged to be deposited. - -At first my good-tempered and garrulous escort tried in vain to -beguile me into some conversation upon such abstract subjects as music -and poetry. But his well-meant efforts failed before my hopeless -taciturnity, and it was in silence that we concluded the transit -between Rothenburg and the border. - -As we parted, however, he held out his hand. “Sans rancune, camarade,” -said he. - -What could I do but clasp the good-natured little paw as heartily as -I might, and echo, although most untruly, “Sans rancune”? To the very -throat I was full of rancour for everything belonging to Lusatia, and I -swear the bitterness of it lay a palpable taste on my tongue. - -A free man again, I threw myself upon my horse, and took the -straightest road for my empty home. János had the wit to speak no word -to me, save a direction now and again as to the proper way. And we rode -like furies through the cold, wet night. - -“Breed a fine stock ...” had said my good uncle to his heir. - -At least, I thought—and the sound of my laugh rang ghastly even in my -own ears—if I have brought roture into the family, I am not like now -to graft it on the family tree! - - - - -CHAPTER III - -CAPTAIN BASIL JENNICO’S MEMOIR, RESUMED THREE MONTHS LATER, AT -FARRINGDON DANE - - - SUFFOLK, _14th April, 1772_. - -I HAD thought upon that day when, in my ill temper, I irreparably -insulted my wife, that I could never bring myself to face the exposure -which a return to England would necessarily bring about. But when I -found the desolation and the haunting memories of Tollendhal like to -rob me of all I had left of reason and manliness; when, to my restless -spirit, the thought of home seemed to promise some chance of diversion -and relief, I did not hesitate. Without delay I set to work to put -matters at Tollendhal upon a sufficiently regular scale, also to have -realised and transferred to my London bankers a sum of money large -enough to meet any reasonable demand. This business accomplished, in -less than a month from the date of the ill-fated Rothenburg expedition -I found myself breathing my native air again. - -Before my departure I charged Schultz—and I know I can rely upon his -faithfulness—to be perpetually on the look-out for any communication -from Lausitz, and to be ready to give any one immediate cognisance of -my whereabouts. It is a forlorn hope. - -Although the humour had come upon me to go back to my own land—after -the fashion, I fancy, that a sick man deems he will be better anywhere -than where he is—and although I did not hesitate to gratify that -humour, I was, nevertheless, not blind to the peculiar position I must -occupy among my people. I had no desire to lay claim to the honours I -had so prematurely announced, no desire to present myself under false -colours, even were such an imposture likely to succeed; but neither -did I see why I should lay bare to the jeers of the fashionable world, -to the sneers of dear relatives and friends, or, more intolerable -still, to their compassion, the whole pitiful plot of that comedy which -has turned to such tragedy for me. So, when I wrote to my mother to -announce my arrival, I adopted a purposely evasive tone. - - “It is deeply unfortunate,” I wrote, “that you should have broken the - bond of secrecy which I enjoined upon you when I informed you of my - intended marriage. You know too much of the world, my dear mother, - not to understand that when a commoner like myself, however well - born and dowered, would contract an alliance with the heiress of - a reigning house, it is more than likely that there may be a ’slip - ’twixt the cup and the lip.’ My cup has been spilt. I come home, a - broken-hearted man, to find myself, I fear, owing to your breach of - confidence, the laughing-stock of our society. But the yearning for - home is too strong upon me to be resisted; I am returning to England - at once. If you would not add yet more to the bitterness of my lot you - will strenuously deny the report you indiscreetly spread, and warn - curiosity-mongers from daring to probe a wound which I could not bear - even your hand to touch.” - -These words, by which I intended to spare myself at least the -humiliation of personal explanation, have produced an unexpected -effect. My poor mother performed her task so well that I find myself -quite as much the hero of the hour over here as if I had brought back -my exalted bride. - -The mystery in which I am shrouded, the obvious melancholy of my -demeanour, the very indifference with which I receive all notice, -added, of course, to my wealth, and possibly to the belief that I -am still a prize in the matrimonial market, my extraordinary luck -at cards, when I can be induced to play, my carelessness to loss or -gain—all this has placed me upon a pinnacle which is as gratifying to -my mother as (or, so I hear, for I have declined all reconciliation -with the renegade) it is galling to my brother and his family. - -But the best yet, so far as I am concerned, is that no one has dared to -put to me an indiscreet question, and that even my mother, although her -wistful eyes implore my confidence, respects my silence. - -Now, having tried in vain to find a solace in the pleasures of town, -I have betaken myself to that part of the island which is the cradle -of our race, to try whether a taste of good old English sport may not -revive some interest in my life. - -Often in that last month at Tollendhal, when the whole land was locked -in ice and the grey sky looked down pitilessly upon the white earth, -day by day, with never a change and scarcely a shadow, I thought of -the green winters of my youth in the old country; of rousing gallops, -with the west wind in my face, across wide fields all verdant still -and homely; of honest English faces, English voices, the tongue of the -hounds, the blast of the cracked horn, with almost a passion of desire. -It seemed to me that, if I could be back in the midst of it all again, -I might feel as the boy Basil had felt, and be rid, were it but for the -space of a good cross-country run, of that present Basil Jennico whose -brain was so weary of working upon the same useless round, whose heart -was so sore within him. - -So soon therefore as the weather broke—for the winter has been -hard even in this milder climate—I accepted my mother’s offer of -her dower-house, set up a goodly stable of hunters, and established -myself at the Manor of Farringdon Dane. I have actually derived some -satisfaction from a couple of days’ sport, to which a sight of my lord -brother’s discomfiture, each time I cut him deliberately in the face of -the whole field, has added perhaps a grain. - - * * * * * - - _April 29th._ - -I am this day like the man in the Gospel who, having driven out -the devil from his heart and swept and garnished it, finds himself -presently possessed of seven devils worse than the first! The demon of -wrath I had exorcised, I believed, long ago; the fiend of unrest and -longing I had thought these days to have laid too. In spite of her too -obdurate resentment, I had no feeling for my wife, wherever she might -be, but tenderness. Now, oh, Ottilie, Ottilie! do I most hate thee -or love thee? I know not, by my soul! Yet this at least I do know: -mine thou art, and mine thou shalt remain, though we never meet again -on earth: mine, as I am thine, though the true, good race of Jennico -wither and die on my barren stock. - -But what serves it to rant in this fashion to myself when I have not -even the satisfaction of hearing a contradiction—not even an excuse -to shake my fury? Small satisfaction likewise has that puling, mincing -messenger to carry back to you, my wife. Poor old man! I am fain to -laugh even in my anger when I recall his panic-stricken countenance of -an hour ago. - -The hounds were to meet at ten this morning at Sir Percy Spalding’s, -not three miles from here, and so I was taking the day easy. I had but -just finished breakfast, and was standing on the steps of the porch -quaffing a draught of ale, as I awaited my horse, sniffing the while -the moist southern wind; and my thoughts for once were pleasantly -occupied—for once the gnawing canker was at rest within me. Presently -my attention was awakened by the rumbling sound of wheels; and, looking -towards the avenue, yet so sparsely be-leaved as to afford a clear view -down its whole length, I saw coming along it, at slow pace, a heavy -vehicle, which in time disclosed itself as a shabby, hired travelling -chaise, drawn by an ancient horse, and driven by that drunken scoundrel -Bateman from Yarmouth, once a familiar figure to my childish eyes. My -heart leaped. I expected no one—my mother was at Cheltenham for the -waters—no one, save, indeed, her whom I ever unconsciously await! - -It was perhaps the unreasonable disappointment that fell upon me, when, -gazing eagerly for a glimpse of the occupant, as the carriage lumbered -through the inner gate, I saw that it contained but the single figure -of an old man (huddled, despite the spring warmth of the day, in furs -to the very chin) that turned me into so bitter and black a temper. - -Even as the chaise drove up before the steps, and as I stood staring -down at it, motionless, although within me there was turmoil enough, -the fellows came round with my horses. Bess, the Irish mare, took -umbrage at the little grotesque figure that, with an alertness one -would scarcely have given it credit for, skipped from the chaise, -looking more like one of those images I have seen on Saxon clocks than -anything human. How she plunged and how the fool that held her stared, -and how I cursed him for not minding his business—it was a vast relief -to my feelings—and how the old gentleman regarded us as one newly come -among savages, and how he finally advanced upon me mincing—I laugh -again to think back upon it! But I had no mind to laughter then. ’Twas -plain, before he opened his mouth to speak, that my visitor hailed -from foreign parts. And at closer acquaintance the reason why, even -from a distance, he had appeared to me as something less than human, -became evident. His countenance was shrivelled and seared by recent -smallpox; scarred in a manner perfectly fantastic to behold. - -That curse of my life, that persistent hope—I believe I could get -along well enough, but ’tis the hope that kills me—began to stir -within me. - -“Have I the honour of speaking to Captain Basil de Jennico?” said the -puppet in French; and before the question was well out of his mouth, I -had capped it with another, breathless: - -“Come you not from Rothenburg?” - -He bowed and scraped: each saw he had his answer. I was all civility -now, Heaven help me! and cordial enough to make up for a more -discourteous reception. - -I ordered my horses back to the stables, dismissed the chaise, in spite -of the newcomer’s protestations, and led him within the house, calling -for refreshments for him; all the while a thousand questions, to which -I yet dreaded the answers, burning on my tongue. - -I had installed him in the deepest armchair in the apartment I -habitually used; I had kindled a fire with my own hands, for he was -shivering in his furs, whether from fear, embarrassment, or cold, I -know not—maybe all three together; I had placed a glass of wine at his -elbow, which he sipped nervously when I pressed him; and then, when I -knew that I should hear what had brought him, from very cowardliness I -was mute. It seemed to me as if my courtesies embarrassed him, and that -this augured ill, although (I reasoned with myself) if she should send -me a messenger at all, I ought to anticipate good tidings. - -“I am fortunate, sir,” began the old man in quavering tones, “to find -you at home. Sir, I have come a long way to seek you. I went first -to your castle at Tollendhal, where your steward, a countryman of my -own, to whose politeness I am much indebted, gave me very careful -instructions as to the road to your English domicile. A most worthy and -amiable person! I should not so soon have had the advantage of making -your acquaintance had it not been for the help he gave me. I have come -by Yarmouth, sir: the wind was all in our favour. I am informed we had -a good passage.” Here he shivered, and a yet greener shade underspread -the scars upon his brow. “But I am not accustomed to the sea, and I -have been ill, sir, lately, very ill.” - -He coughed awkwardly, reached out his trembling hand for the wine, but -put down the glass again untasted. - -“Surely I am right in believing,” said I, “that you come from some -one very dear to me—from one from whom I am parted by a series of -unfortunate misunderstandings?” I felt my lips grow cold as I spoke, -and I know that I panted. - -“If you have a letter,” said I, “give it to me.” - -I reached out my hand, and saw, with a strange sort of self-pity, that -it shook no less than had the old man’s withered claw. - -“Or if you have a message,” cried I, breaking out at last, “speak, for -God’s sake!” - -He drew back from my impetuosity. There was fear of me in his eye; at -the same time, I thought, with a chill about my heart, compassion. - -“My good sir,” he said, between “hums” and “ha’s” which well-nigh -drove me distracted, “I believe I may say—in fact, I will venture to -assert that I have come from the—ahem, ahem!—young lady I apprehend -you speak of. I have been made aware of the—ah, hum!—unfortunate -circumstances. The young lady——.” Here he hitched himself up in his -chair and began to fumble in the skirts of his floating coat. Between -his furs and his feebleness this was a sufficiently lengthy operation -to give time for my hopes to kindle stronger again and my small stock -of patience to fail. - -“You are doubtless prepared to hear,” he went on at length, “that -the young lady, being now fully alive to the consequence of -her—her—ill-considered conduct—a girlish freak, sir, a child’s, I -may say!—believes that she will be meeting your wishes, nay, your -express desire, by joining with you in an application to his Holiness -for the immediate annulment of so irregular a marriage.” - -“What?” cried I with a roar, leaping from my chair. So occupied had -I been in watching the movements of his hands as he fingered a great -pocket-book, expecting him every instant to produce a letter from her -to me, that I had scarce heeded the drift of his babble till the last -words struck upon my ear. - -“Annul our marriage!” I thundered, “at my desire! In the devil’s name, -who are you, and whence come you, for it could not be my wife who has -sent you with such a message to me?” - -The little man had jumped, too, at my violence—like a grasshopper. But -my question evidently touched his pride in a sensitive quarter, and -roused him to a sense of offence in which he forgot his tremors. - -“Truly, sir, truly, you remind me,” he said tartly. “If you will have -but a little patience, I was in the very act of seeking my credentials -when you so—ahem!—impetuously interrupted me.” - -As he spoke, with a skip and a bow, which recalled I know not what -vague memory of a bygone merry hour, he drew forth a folded sheet, and, -unfolding it, presented it to me. I knew the handwriting too well to -doubt its authenticity. How often had I conned and kissed the few poor -lines she had ever written to me; ay, although they had been penned in -her assumed character! - - “TO M. DE JENNICO— - - “I empower M. de Schreckendorf to act for me in the affair M. de - Jennico wots of, and I agree beforehand to all his arrangements.” - - (Thereto the signature.) - -Not a word more; not a word of regret, even of anger! The same -implacable, unbending resentment. - -I stood staring at the lines, reading them and re-reading them, and -each letter seemed to print itself like fire upon my soul. I heard, as -in a dream, my visitor pour forth further explanations, still in that -tone of injury my roughness had evoked. - -“I am myself, sir, a friend. Yes, I may say a friend, an old friend, of -the young lady. Her parents—ahem!—have always reposed confidence in -me. I, sir, am M. de Schreckendorf. The very fact, I should think, of -my being in possession of this letter, of this document”—here there -was a great rattling of stiff parchment—“will assure you, I should -hope, of my identity. Nevertheless, if you wish further proof, I have a -letter to our ambassador in London, and I am willing to accompany you -to his house, or meet you there at your convenience. Indeed, it would -perhaps be more proper and correct, in every way, that the whole matter -should be settled and the documents duly attested at the residence of -the accredited representative of Lusatia. I will not disguise to you -that his Serene Highness, the Duke himself, takes—takes an interest -in the lady, and is desirous of having this business, which so nearly -affects the welfare and credit of a well-known member of his Court, -settled in the promptest and most efficacious manner. A sad escapade, -you must admit yourself!” - -And all the while my heart was crying out within me in an agony, “Oh, -Ottilie, how could you, how could you? Was the memory of those days -nothing to you? Is the knowledge of my love and sorrow nothing to you? -Are you a woman, and have you no forgiveness?” - -Taking perhaps my silence for acquiescence (for this messenger of -my wife, albeit entrusted with so delicate a mission, was no shrewd -diplomatist), M. de Schreckendorf here spread out with an agreeable -flourish an amazing-looking Latin document with rubrics ready filled -up, it seemed, but for certain spaces left blank, for the names, I -suppose, of the appealing parties. - -“I have been led to understand,” pursued he then in tones of greatly -increased confidence, “that you entirely concur in the lady’s desire -for the annulment of this contestable union, the actual legality -of which, indeed, is too doubtful to be worth discussing. From the -religious point of view, however, one of chief importance to my young -friend (I think I may call her so), the matter is otherwise serious, -for there was, no doubt, a sacrament administered by a priest, duly -ordained, but unfortunately, through old age and natural infirmity, -wanting in due prudence, and further misled as to the identity of -one of the contracting persons. A sacrament, sir, there undoubtedly -was; but I am glad to inform you that special leading divines have -been already approached upon the subject, and they give good hope, -sir, good hope, that a properly drawn up petition, supported by the -signatures of the two persons concerned, will meet at Rome with most -favourable consideration. The ecclesiastical part of the difficulty -once settled, the legal one goes of itself.” - -I was gradually becoming attentive to the run of his glib speech. I -hardly know now how I contained myself so far, but I kept a rigid -silence, and for yet another minute or two gave him all my ear. - -“Such being the case,” he continued, “I need hardly trouble you to -disturb yourself by journeying all the way to London. We need proceed -no farther than Yarmouth, indeed, and there in the presence of two -competent witnesses—I would suggest a priest of our religion and some -neighbouring gentleman of substance—all you will have to do is just -to sign this document. I repeat, I understand that you are naturally -anxious likewise to be delivered from a marriage in which you have -considered yourself aggrieved: and not unnaturally.” Here the little -monster threw a sly look at me, and added: “You were made the victim -of a little deception, eh? Then in the course of a few months—Rome is -always slow, you know—you will both be as free as air! With no more -loss to either of you than the loss of—ahem!—a little inexperience.” - -As free as air! _Ottilie as free as air!_ Then it was that the violence -of my wrath overflowed. That moment is a blank to my memory. I only -know that I heard the sound of my own voice ringing with shattering -violence in the room, and I came to myself again to find that, with -a strength my fury alone could have lent, I was shredding the tough -parchment between my fingers, so that the ground was strewn with its -rags. What most restored me to something like composure was the abject -terror of the unlucky messenger, who, huddled away from me in a corner -of the room, was peeping round a chair at me, much as you might see a -monkey caught in mischief. His teeth were chattering! Good anger was -wasted on so miserable an object, and indeed the feelings that swayed -me had had roots in ground such as he could never tread upon. - -“Come out, M. de Schreckendorf,” I said, with a calmness which -surprised myself—but there are times when a man’s courage rises with -the very magnitude of a calamity—“you have nothing to fear from me. -You will want an answer to carry back to her that sent you. Take her -this.” - -I stooped as I spoke, and gathered together the shreds of the -document, folded them in a great sheet of paper, and tied it with -ribbon into a neat parcel. - -“Not a word,” I went on; “I will hear no more! When you have rested and -partaken of refreshment, one of my carriages will be at your disposal -for whatever point you may desire to reach to-day. Stay, you will want -some evidence to show that you have fulfilled your embassy.” - -Sitting down to my writing-table, I hastily addressed the packet to -“Madame Basil de Jennico,” adding thereafter her distinctive title -as maid of honour. This done, I sealed it with my great seal, M. de -Schreckendorf meanwhile uttering uncouth little groans. - -“Here, sir,” said I, holding out the packet with its bold inscription, -“they will no longer, it is evident, deny the existence at the Court of -Lusatia of the person I have here addressed. Here, sir. Take this to my -wife, and tell her that her husband has more respect than she has for -the holy sacrament he received with her. Here, sir!” - -At every “Here, sir,” I advanced a step upon him, holding out the -bundle, and at every step I took he retreated, till impatiently I flung -it on the table nearest him, and making him a low ironical bow of -farewell, turned to leave him. - -I paused a moment on the threshold of the room, however, and had the -satisfaction of seeing him, after throwing his hands heavenwards, as if -in despairing protest, bring them down again on the packet and proceed -to stuff it into the recesses of his coat. - -I turned once more to go, when to my surprise he called after me in -tones unexpectedly stern and loud: - -“Young man, young man, this is a grave mistake; have a care!” - -I shrugged my shoulders and slammed the door upon his warning cry. Nor, -though he subsequently sent twice by my servants—first to demand, then -to supplicate, a further interview—would I consent to parley with him -again. - -I passed a couple of restless hours, until, at length, from an upper -window I saw him depart from my house in far greater state and comfort -than he had come. - -Now, as I write, I know that he is being whirled along the Yarmouth -road at the best pace of my fine horses, speeding back to Lausitz to -take my wife my eloquent answer. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - - NARRATIVE OF AN EPISODE AT WHITE’S CLUB, IN WHICH CAPTAIN JENNICO WAS - CONCERNED, SET FORTH FROM CONTEMPORARY ACCOUNTS - - -THE tenth hour of an October night had rung out over a fog-swathed -London; yet, despite the time of year, unfashionable for town life, -despite the unpropitious weather, the long card-room at White’s was -rapidly filling. The tables, each lit by its own set of candles, shone -dimly like a little green archipelago in a sea of mist. Groups were -gathering round sundry of these boards; the dice had begun to rattle, -voices to ring out. The nightly scene was being repeated, wherein all -were actors, down to the waiters, who had their private bets, and lost -and won with their patrons. - -Somewhat apart in the seclusion of a window-recess, cosily ensconced -so as to profit of the warmth of the great yellow fire, sat three -gentlemen. A fourth chair remained vacant at their table; and from -the impatient glances which two of the party now and again turned -upon the different doors, it was evident that the arrival of its -expected occupant was overdue. The third gentleman, who bore the stamp -of a distinctly foreign race,—although his hair, which he wore but -slightly powdered, was of a fair hue, and his face rather sanguine -than dark,—seemed to endure the delay with complete indifference. -His attention was wholly given to the shuffling of a pack of cards, -which he manipulated with extreme dexterity, while he listened to his -companions’ remarks with impassive countenance. He was a handsome -man, despite a bulk of frame and feature which almost amounted to -coarseness; hardly yet in the prime of life, with full blue eyes -and full red lips, which took, when he spoke or smiled, a curious -curve, baring the canine in almost sinister fashion. The Chevalier -de Ville-Rouge, introduced at White’s by the Prussian Ambassador, as -a distinguished officer of the great Frederick visiting England for -his pleasure, had shown himself so daring a player as to be welcomed -among the most noted gamblers. He had lost and won large sums with -great breeding, and had in his six weeks’ stay contrived to improve -an imperfect knowledge of an alien tongue in such fashion as to make -intercourse with his English companions quite sufficiently easy. - -The youngest of the trio at the table in the corner, this foggy -night, was naturally the one to display his feelings most openly. A -clean-faced, square-built English lad, fresh it would seem from the -playing fields of school, yet master of his title and fortune, and -cornet in the Life Guards, Sir John Beddoes was already a familiar -figure in the club, as indeed his finances could bear doleful -testimony. The green cuff-guards adjusted over his delicate ruffles, -the tablets and pencil ready at his elbow, it was clear he was itching -to put another slice of his patrimony to the hazard. His opposite -neighbour, Beau Carew (as he dearly loved to hear himself dubbed), was -a man of another kidney, and fifteen years of nights, systematically -turned into days, had left their stamp upon features once noted for -their beauty. Though ready now with a sneer or jest for his companion’s -youthful eagerness, his eyes wandering restlessly from the clock to the -doors betrayed an almost equal anxiety to begin the business of the -evening. - -“Devil take Jennico!” cried the Baronet at last, striking the table -so that the dice leaped in their box; “‘pon my soul it’s too bad! He -gave me an appointment here at ten to-night, and it wants now but six -minutes to eleven.” - -“Bet he comes before the clock strikes,” interposed Mr. Carew; “ten -guineas?” - -“Done with you, Dick,” said Sir John promptly. - -The bet was registered, and five minutes passed in watching the -timepiece on the mantel-shelf: all the young Baronet’s eagerness being -now against the event he had been burning to hasten. The strokes rang -out. With a smile he held out his broad palm, into which Carew duly -dropped ten pieces. - -“‘Tis the first bit of luck the fellow has brought me yet. Gad, I -believe my luck has turned! Why the devil don’t he come, that I may -ease him of a little of that superfluous wealth of his? I swear he gets -more swollen day by day, while we grow lean—eh, Carew?—like the kine -in the Bible. D—— him!” - -“The water goes to the river, as the French say, in spite of all our -dams,” sniggered Carew; “but as for me I am content that you should go -on playing with Jennico so that I may back him; my purse has not been -in such good condition for many a long day. Poor devil! How monstrous -unfortunate his amours must still be! I only wish,” with a conscious -wriggle, “he could give me the recipe.” - -“Yet you have lost on him now,” retorted Beddoes, tapping his breast -pocket, “and if you back him to-night, you lose on him again, I warn -you. I am in the vein, I tell ye! But there is the quarter! Rot him, -I believe he is going to rat after all! Bet you he don’t come till -half-past, Carew. Fifty?” - -“Done,” said Carew quietly, noting down the entry. “He _is_ erratic, I -grant you—he, he, he!—did you note me, Chevalier? But he has a taste -for the table, though I believe he’d as soon lose as win, were it only -for the sake of change. ’Tis about all he cares for—the dullest dog! -Bet you there is not a man in the room has heard him laugh.” - -“You won’t find any fool to take up that bet, Carew. Heigh-ho! I’d -willingly accommodate myself with a little of his melancholy at the -price.” - -“Better look up a princess for yourself then, Jack,” said Carew; -“perhaps the Chevalier here can give you an introduction to some other -fascinating German Highness.” - -“Won’t it do over here?” asked Beddoes, with a grin. “D’ye think I’d -have a chance with Augusta? Twenty past! Let him keep away till the -half-hour now. Zounds! ’twould be a mean trick if he failed me on my -lucky night; though I don’t want him for ten minutes yet. He has fairly -cleared me out; the team will have to go next if I don’t get back some -of my I O U’s.” - -“Why, it would be a very good thing for thee, Jack, if he played thee -false. I say so though I should lose most damnably by it. Thy team -will go, thy coaches will go, thy carts, thy grooms, thy dog, thy cat. -Why, man, thou must lose—’tis as plain as the nose on Lady Maria’s -face. And he must win, poor wretch, and I too, since I back him. Ask -the Chevalier if it is not a text of truth all the world over: lucky -at cards, unlucky in love. Never look so sulky, boy; ’tis providential -compensation.” - -“You surprise _me_, gentlemen,” said the Chevalier, with a strong -guttural accent, lifting as he spoke his heavy lids for the first -time. “I was not aware that Captain Jennico was so afflicted in his -affections.” - -“You surprise _me_, Chevalier,” returned Carew gaily. “I deemed you -and he such friends. Why, I won a hundred from my Lord Ullswater but -yestereven by wagering him that you would be the only man in the room -to whom Jennico would speak more than ten words within the hour. The -counting was not difficult. He said sixty-four to you and five to Jack.” - -“Mr. Jennico has certainly shown me both kindness and sympathy,” said -the Chevalier, who had now folded his strong white hands over the pack -of cards, and sat the very embodiment of repose. “Doubtless our having -both served in the same part of the world, though under different -standards, has somewhat drawn us together: but he has not made me his -confidant.” - -“And so you don’t know the tale of Jennico and the Princess? ’Tis a -dashed fine tale. Carew, you are a wit, or think you are—it comes to -much the same thing: tune up, man, give your version; for,” turning to -the Chevalier again, “there are now as many versions current as days in -the month. ’Tis twenty-five minutes past; you had better get your I O U -ready, Master Carew.” - -“I have three hundred chances yet,” said Carew. Then turning to the -foreigner, “Would you really, sir, care to hear the true story of our -friend’s discomfiture? I am about the only man in town that knows the -_true_ one; but all that’s old scandal now—town talk of last year, as -stale as Lady Villiers’s nine virgin daughters. There are a dozen new -ones since. Would you not rather hear the last of his Royal Highness -the Duke of C. and Lady W.? That is choice if you like, and as fresh as -Rosalinda’s last admirer—eh, John?” - -“I am not fond,” said the Chevalier drily, “of hearing those discussed -who, being High Born, have the right to claim respect and homage. But -I confess to some interest in my friend Mr. Jennico.” - -“Begad, then,” responded Mr. Carew, flicking a grain of snuff from the -ruffles of his pouting bosom, “I cannot promise to spare your scruples -concerning scandal in high quarters, for the heroine of the romance -is, it would appear, one of your own German royalties; but since you -wish the story, you shall have it. There is then a certain Dorothea -Maria Augusta Carolina Sophia, etc., etc., daughter of some Duke of -Alsatia, Swabia, Dalmatia—no, stay, Lusatia, wherever that may be; -ay, that’s the name—one of your two hundred odd principalities—you -know all about it, I don’t—and Jennico, who, as you are aware, was in -the Imperial service, met this wondrously beautiful Princess at some -Court function somewhere. They danced, they conversed, she was fair and -he was fond—fill it in for yourself. He thought himself a tremendous -cock of the walk; to be brief, he aspired to act King Cophetua and -the beggar maid, turned the other way, with the exception that he is -as rich as Crœsus. He made so sure of the lady’s favour that he wrote -over to his mother to announce the marriage as a settled thing. A royal -alliance, with the prospect of speedily mounting to the throne on the -strength of his wife’s pretensions! Ha, ha!” - -“‘Tis a droll story,” said the Chevalier gravely; “and then?” - -“Oh, then!—Zounds! you can conceive the flutter in the dovecot over -him. My Lady Jennico, his mother, was blown out with pride, swimming in -the higher regions, a perfect balloon! Gad, she would no longer bow to -any one less than a Duke! She ran hither and thither cackling the news -like the hen that has laid an egg. She sent—I was told on the best -authority—to the Lord Chamberlain to know what precedence the young -couple would be given at the next Birthday. She called at the College -of Arms to inquire about the exact marshalling of the coat of Lusatia -with that of Jennico. He, he! And whether the resultant monstrosity -would comport a royal crown!” - -“Faith, that’s a good one,” said Sir John, with a guffaw; “I had not -heard _that_, Carew.” - -“Fact, fact, I assure you,” smiled the wit. - -“Very droll,” repeated M. de Ville-Rouge, with impassive muscles. - -“When,” continued Carew, “lo and behold, what a falling off was there, -as young Roscius says! What a come down! Humpty-Dumpty was nothing to -it—poor Lady Jennico’s egg! Ah! well, we all know pride must have a -fall. Your fair compatriot, sir, had but amused herself with the fine -Englishman, for which I would be loath to blame her. She gave him, -it is said, indeed, every pledge of her affection. But when he began -to prate of rings and marriage lines, and pressed her to become Mrs. -Jennico, she found him a little too presumptuous—at least, I take it -so; and being, it would seem, of a merry turn of mind, devised a little -joke to play upon him. Pretending to yield at last to his urgency, she -gave her consent to a secret marriage, and in the dark chapel palmed -off her chambermaid upon him! Ha, ha! So the poor devil, carrying off -his bride by night in high glee, thinking himself a very fine fellow -indeed, never discovered till he had brought her home that he had given -his hand and name to a squinting, sausage-nosed, carroty maid, daughter -of the Court confectioner, called in baptism by the Princess’s names, -like half the girls in the town. The story goes that the Princess with -all the Court were waiting at his house to see the happy pair arrive, -and I have had secret, but absolutely incontestable, information that -the Princess laughed till she had to be bled.” - -M. de Ville-Rouge smiled at last in evident appreciation of the humour -of the situation. - -“It is, on my honour, a most comic story,” he said. “But how come you -so well acquainted with the matter? Surely my poor friend Jennico has -ill-chosen his confidant.” - -“Devil a word have I heard from Jennico,” said Carew. “Faith, he has -ever been the same cheerful, conversational fellow you wot of, and -it would take a bold man to question him. But truth, you know, will -out—truth will out in time.” - -“Ay,” said the Chevalier, and was shaken with silent merriment. - -“Half-past eleven,” roared the Baronet, suddenly, stretching out a -great paw and snapping his fingers under the beau’s face. - -“Zounds!” cried the wit, turning to look at the clock with some -discomposure; “no, Jack, no, there is still a fraction of a minute—the -half-hour has not struck. And, by Heaven, here’s our man! Had you not -better sup with Rosalinda to-night?” - -Sir John, in the act of looking round pettishly—he had not yet -reached that enviable state of mind in which a gambler declares that -the greatest delight after winning is that of losing—found his -attention unexpectedly arrested by the countenance of the Chevalier -de Ville-Rouge, which presented at that moment such an extraordinary -appearance that the young man forgot his irritation, and remained -gazing at it in open-mouthed astonishment. - -The features, usually remarkable for their set, rather heavy composure, -were perturbed to the verge of distortion. The whole face was stained -with angry purple, the veins of the forehead swollen like whipcord. - -Sir John Beddoes’s wits were none of the sharpest, but it was clear -even to him that the emotion thus expressed was one of furious -disappointment. - -But while he cudgelled his brains for an explanation of this sudden -humour in a man who was neither winner nor loser by Basil Jennico’s -appearance, the face of the Chevalier resumed its wonted indifferent -expression and dulness of hue with a rapidity that altogether -confounded the observer. - -By this time the tall figure of the new-comer had wended its way down -the room and was close upon them. All turned to greet him, and poor Sir -John found his feelings once more subjected to a shock. - -The acquaintances of Basil Jennico were accustomed to find his brow -charged with gloom, to see his cheek wear the pallor of one who sleeps -little and thinks much. But in his demeanour to-night was more than -the usual sombreness, on his countenance other than natural pallor. -As he stood for a moment responding absently to the Chevalier’s hearty -greeting, and Carew’s bantering salutation of “All hail!” it became -further apparent that his dress was disordered, that his ruffles were -torn and blood-stained, that his brocade jacket was jaggedly rent upon -the left side, and also ominously stained here and there. - -“Gadzooks, man!” exclaimed Carew, his bleared grey eyes lighting at -the prospect of a new wholesale scandal for his little retail shop. -“What has happened thee? Wounded? How? Ah, best not inquire perhaps! -Beddoes, lad, see you he has got reasons for his delay. Who knows but -that you may have a chance to-night after all. A deadly dig, well -aimed under the fifth rib, a true Benedick’s pinking; or shall we say -goring?—ahem! Have a care, Jennico, these wounds from horned beasts -are reputed ill to heal. Ah, sad dog, sad dog! I will warrant thou hast -had the balance nevertheless to thy credit. Now do I remember a little -lady was casting very curious looks at you at Almack’s last night.” - -Basil had flung himself into the chair that had so long awaited him, -and seemed to lend but a half-apprehending ear to the prattler on his -left, who, as he leant towards him, was hardly able to restrain his -eager hand from fingering the hurt so unmistakably evidenced. On the -right the Chevalier as unsuccessfully pressed him with earnest queries, -manifesting, it would seem, a genuine anxiety. - -“Great God, my friend! what has happened?” - -The stentorian tones of Sir John Beddoes, who saw an opportunity of -retrieving his fortunes, here broke in hastily upon Carew’s flow of -words: “Bet you double or quits it was _not_ Lady Sue,” and aroused Mr. -Jennico’s attention. - -“I should be loath to spoil sport,” he said, “but I advise no one to -bet on my bonnes fortunes. This scratch—for it is nothing more, Mr. -Carew, and I would show it to you with pleasure in reward for your -flattering interest, but the surgeon has just bound it up very neatly, -and it would be a pity to disturb his handiwork—is but the sixth of -a series of attempts on my life, made within the last six weeks, by -persons unknown, for purposes likewise unknown.” - -“Dash it, Jennico, you might have let me enter the bet,” said the -Baronet sulkily, while Carew, sniffing a choicer titbit of gossip than -he had expected, wriggled with pleasure, and the Chevalier expressed -unbounded amazement that such a state of things could exist, above all -in England. - -“It is even so,” resumed Basil, turning to the last speaker as if glad -to give vent to some of his pent-up irritation. “I confess that when I -returned to my native land I did expect to find at least a quiet life. -Why, in my house at Tollendhal, where those who surrounded me were -half savages, ruled by the stick and the halter, where it was deemed -imprudent for the master to walk the roads without his body-guard, -there was never so much as a stone thrown after me. But here, in old -England, my life, I believe, would not be worth backing for a week.” He -looked round with a smile in which melancholy and disdain were blended. - -“Now, d—— me!” cried Sir John, struck in his easy good nature into -sudden warmth and sympathy, “nay, now d—— me, Jennico! I will take -any man a hundred guineas that you are alive this day month.” - -“Done!” said the Chevalier, with such unexpected energy that all three -turned round to look at him with surprise; perceiving which he went on, -laughing to conceal an evident embarrassment: “Your betting habits here -are infectious, but while I will not withdraw, I am prepared to be glad -to lose rather than gain for once.” He fixed Basil across the table -with his brooding eye as he spoke, and bowed to him, then turned to -the Baronet. “No, Sir Beddoes, I am not going to recede from the wager.” - -This, as a wager worth recording, was forthwith entered into the club -book. Basil looked on, half in amusement, half in bitterness. - -“‘Tis likely, after all,” he said, addressing Sir John, “that you may -win and that the Chevalier may be afforded the pleasure of losing, for -I seem to bear a charmed life. Perhaps,” he added with a sigh, “because -I care so little for it. Though to be sure there is something galling -to a man in being shot at from behind a hedge and set on in the dark; -in not knowing where the murderer may be lying in wait for him, at what -street corner, at what turn of the road, behind what hayrick. If I have -not kept my appointment over punctually to-night, it is because a rogue -has had me by the Park gateway in Piccadilly. There is more here than -mere accidental villainy. The next will be that I shall see murder in -my own servant’s eyes. Or, who knows, find it lying at the bottom of my -cup. Pah! I am as bold as most men; I would welcome death more readily -than most; but, by Heaven! it is unfair treatment, and I have had more -than my share of it.” - -“Why, Jennico,” said Carew, “you never spoke a word of this before. A -fellow has no right to keep such doings dark. Tell us the details.” - -“Ay, tell us all about it,” said Sir John, with round eyes ready to -start from their orbits. - -“True,” said Basil, “you have now an interest, Jack, in knowing what -sort of odds are against you. Well, you shall learn all you wish; but -let us to supper, gentlemen, meanwhile, that we may lose no further -time and start better fortified upon the evening’s business, if Beddoes -is still anxious for his revenge.” - - - - -CHAPTER V - -NARRATIVE OF AN EPISODE AT WHITE’S CONTINUED - - -IT was over a dish of devilled kidneys and a couple of bottles of -Burgundy that—pressed by the eager curiosity of his English friends, -no less than by the interest M. de Ville-Rouge continued to profess -in his concerns with all Teutonic earnestness—Basil Jennico began to -narrate his misadventures in the same tone of ironical resentment with -which he had already alluded to them. - -“It began at Farringdon Dane,” he said, “on the little property in -Suffolk which my mother has placed at my disposal. ’Twas some six weeks -gone, walking through the wood at sundown, I was shot at from behind a -tree. The charge passed within an inch of my face, to embed itself in a -sapling behind me. I was, according to my wont—an evil habit—deeply -absorbed in thought, and was alone; consequently, although I searched -the copse from end to end, I could find no trace of my well-wisher. -That was number one. I gave very little heed to the occurrence at -first, believing it to be some poacher’s trick, or maybe the unwitting -act of what you call in your country, Chevalier, a Sunday sportsman, -who mistook my brown beaver for the hide of a nobler quarry. But the -next attempt gave me more serious food for reflection. This time I -was shot at while sitting reading in my study at night, when all the -household had retired. It was close weather, and I had drawn the -curtains and opened the windows. The bullet again whizzed by my ear, -and this time shattered the lamp beside me. No doubt the total darkness -which ensued saved me from a second and better aim.” - -“You are a fortunate young man,” said the Chevalier gravely. - -“Do you think so, Chevalier?” answered Jennico, with a smile which all -the bitterness of his thoughts could not altogether rob of sweetness. -“I do not think any one need envy my fate. Well, gentlemen, you can -conceive the uproar which ensued upon the event I have just described. -The best efforts of myself, my servants, and my dogs failed, however, -to track the fugitive, although the marks of what seemed a very neat -pair of shoes were imprinted on my mother’s most choice flowerbeds. -After this adventure I received a couple more of such tokens of -good-will in the country. Once I was shot at crossing a ford in full -daylight, and my poor nag was struck; this time I did catch a glimpse -of the scoundrel, but he was mounted too, and poor Bess, though she -did her utmost, fell dead after the first twenty strides in pursuit. -Thereupon my mother grew so morbidly nervous, and the mystery resisting -all our attempts at elucidation, I gave way to her entreaties and -returned to London, where she deemed I would find myself in greater -safety.” - -“And has your friend followed you up here?” exclaimed Sir John, -forgetting his supper in his interest. “By George, this is a good -story!” - -“I was stopped on the road by a highwayman,” answered Mr. Jennico -quietly. “Nothing unusual in that, you will say; but there was -something a little out of the common nevertheless in the fact that he -fired his pistol at me without the formality of bidding me stand and -deliver; which formality, I believe, is according to the etiquette of -the road. I am glad to tell you that I think we left our mark on the -gentleman this time, for as he rode away he bent over his saddle, we -thought, like one who will not ride very far. But, faith! the brood is -not extirpated, and the worthy folk who display such an interest in me, -finding hot lead so unsuccessful, have now taken to cold steel.” - -Sir John Beddoes damned his immortal soul with great fervour. - -“Pray, sir,” remarked Mr. Carew with an insinuating smile, “may not the -identity of the murderer be of easier solution than you deem? Are there -no heirs to your money?” - -“I might pretend to misunderstand you, Mr. Carew,” said Basil, -flushing, “although your meaning is plain. Permit me to say, however, -that I fail to find a point to the jest.” - -“‘Twas hardly likely you would find humour in a point so inconveniently -aimed against yourself,” answered Carew airily. “But ’tis a rarity, -Jennico, to find a man ready to take up the cudgels for his heirs and -successors. Nevertheless, I crave your pardon, the more so because I am -fain to know what befell you to-night.” - -“To-night was an ill night to choose for so evil an attempt,” said -the Chevalier, rousing himself from a fit of musing and looking -reflectively round upon the fog, which hung ever closer even in the -warm and well-lit room. - -“It was the very night for their purpose, my dear Chevalier,” returned -the young man with artificial gaiety. “Faith, it was like to have -succeeded with them, and I make sure mine enemy, whoever he may be, -is pluming himself even now upon the world well rid of my cumbersome -existence. I was on foot, too, and what with the darkness and emptiness -of the streets I was, I may say, delivered into their hands. But they -are sad bunglers. One of my pretty fellows in Moravia would have done -such a job for me, were I in the way to require it, as cleanly and with -as little ado as you pick your first pheasant in October, Jack. And yet -it may be that I am providentially preserved—preserved for a better -fate.” Here he tossed off his glass as if to a silent toast. - -“But why on foot, my dear Jennico? On foot—fie, fie, and in this -weather! What could you expect?” cried Carew with a shiver of horror. - -“If you were not so fond of interruption, Mr. Carew,” said the -Chevalier with a sinister smile, “perhaps we might sooner get to the -end of Mr. Jennico’s story. We are all eagerness to hear about this -last miraculous preservation.” - -“I hardly know myself how I come to be alive! I could get no sedan, -my dear Carew, and that was just the rub. What with Lady Bedford’s -card-party and the fog, there was not one to be had within a mile, and -I had given my stablemen a holiday. I sent my servant upon the quest -for a chair, but got tired of waiting, mindful of my appointment with -my friend and neighbour here, and so it was that I set forth, as I -said, on foot and alone. The mist was none so thick but that I could -find my way, and I was pursuing it at a round pace when, opposite -Devonshire House, some fellow bearing a link crossed from over the -road, came straight upon me without a word, raised his torch, and -peered intently into my face. I halted, but before I could demand the -meaning of his insolence down went his fire-brand fizzing into the -mud, out came his sword, and I was struck with such extreme violence -that, in the very attempt to recover my balance, I fell backwards all -my length upon the pavement, skewered like a chicken, and carrying -the skewer with me. Some gentlemen happened to reach the spot at that -moment, there was a cry for the watch, but the rogue had made good use -of his heels and the fog, and was out of sight and hearing in a moment.” - -“Verdammt villain!” cried M. de Ville-Rouge, whose brow had grown ever -blacker during this account. “Say, my amiable friend, did you not get -even a lunge at him?” - -“Lunge, man! I was skewered, I tell you; I could not even draw! His -sword—’twas as sharp as a razor, a fine sword, I have had it brought -to my chambers—had gone clean through innumerable folds of cloak -and cape, back and front, only to graze my ribs after all. It was -bent double by the fall, and it took the strength of the watchman and -the two gentlemen to draw it out again. By George! they thought I was -spitted beyond hope.” - -“A foul affair altogether,” murmured Carew absently; but the sorry jest -was lost in the strident tones of the Chevalier, who now anxiously -plied Basil as to the surgeon’s opinion of the wound, and expressed -himself relieved beyond measure by the reply. - -At this juncture Sir John Beddoes, who had drunk enough to inflame his -gambler’s ardour to boisterous pitch, began to clamour for his promised -revenge, and the whole party once more adjourned to the card-room. - -In his heart, Basil Jennico would have been genuinely glad to be -unsuccessful at the hazard that night; partly from a good-natured -dislike to be the cause of the foolish young man’s complete ruin, -partly from a more personal feeling of superstition. But the luck ran -as persistently in his favour as ever. - -Carew, with drawn tablets, began loudly to back the winner, challenging -all his acquaintance to wager against him. But although the high play -and Sir John’s increasing excitement and restlessness, as well as the -extraordinary good fortune which cleaved to Jennico, soon attracted -a circle of watchers, men were chary of courting what seemed certain -loss, and Carew found his easy gains not likely further to accrue. - -Suddenly the Chevalier, who, with his cheek resting upon his hand, -had seemed plunged in deep reflection ever since they had left the -supper-room, rose, and with an air of geniality which sat awkwardly -enough upon him, cried out to the surprise of all—for he had not been -wont to back any player in the club: - -“And there is really no one to side with my good friend Beddoes -to-night? Why then, Mr. Carew, I will be the man. Thunder-weather, -Beddoes,” clapping him on the shoulder—“I believe the luck will turn -yet; so brave a heart must needs force fortune! What shall it be, Mr. -Carew? Something substantial to encourage our friend.” - -Jennico looked down at the pile of vouchers which lay at his elbow. It -amounted already to a terrible sum. Then he looked across at the boy’s -face, drawn, almost haggard in spite of its youth and chubbiness, and -sighed impatiently. He could not advise the fool to go home to bed; -yet for himself he was heartily sick of these winnings. The dice were -thrown again, Sir John’s hand trembling like a leaf; and again Basil -won, and again vouchers were added to the heap. - -M. de Ville-Rouge threw a dark glance at the winner as he stepped up to -Carew to settle his own debt. - -“You should not have backed me,” said Sir John ruefully, lifting his -eyes from the contemplation of the paper that meant for him another -step towards ruin. “The devil’s in it; I will play no more to-night!” - -“Nay, then,” cried the Chevalier, “by your leave I will take your -place. I for one am no such believer in the continuance of Mr. -Jennico’s good luck.” - -There was something harsh, almost offensive, in the tone of the last -words, and Basil turned in surprise towards the speaker. - -“The Chevalier,” he said, “is very ready to risk his gold against me -to-night.” - -“‘Tis so, sir,” returned the Chevalier, with such singular arrogance -that the watchers looked at each other significantly, and Carew -whispered to a young man behind his chair, “Faith, our foreign friend -is a bad loser after all!” - -Basil had flushed, but he made no reply, and contented himself with -raising his eyebrows somewhat contemptuously, while he languidly pushed -his own dice-box across the table towards his new opponent. - -“Come,” said the Chevalier, seizing it and shaking it fiercely, “I will -not mince the stake. A hundred guineas on the main.” - -He threw, and the result of all his rattling being after all the lowest -cast of the evening, there was an ill-suppressed titter round the -table. Basil made no attempt to hide his smile as he lazily turned over -his dice and threw just one higher. - -The German’s face had grown suffused with dark angry crimson; the veins -of his throat and his temples began to swell. - -“Double or quits,” he cried huskily. He threw and lost; doubled his -stake, threw and lost again. - -There was something about the scene that aroused the audience to more -potent interest than the ordinary nightly repeated spectacle of loss -and gain. - -The extraordinary passion displayed by the foreigner, not only in his -inflamed countenance, but in the very motion of his hands, in the rigid -tension of his whole body, presented a strange contrast to the languor -of his opponent. It was, moreover, a revelation in one who had been -known hitherto as courteous and composed to formality. - -“It is to be hoped some one has a lancet,” said Carew, “for I believe -the gentleman will have an apoplexy unless a little blood be let soon.” - -“I fear me,” answered his companion, “that there will be more blood let -than you think for. Did you mark that look?” - -At the same instant the Chevalier flung down his box with such -violence that the dice, rebounding, flew about the room, and gazed -across at Basil with open hatred, as one glad to give vent at last to -long-pent-up fury. - -“By Heaven, Mr. Jennico!” he cried, “were it not that I have been told -how well you have qualified for this success, I should think there was -more in such marvellous throwing of dice than met the eye. But your -love affairs, I hear,—and I should have borne it in mind,—have been -so disastrous, so more than usually disastrous,” here his voice broke -into a sort of snarl, “as to afford sufficient explanation for the -marvel.” - -There was a cold silence. Then Jennico rose, white as death. - -“If you know so much about me, sir,” he said in tones that for all -the anger that vibrated in them fell harmoniously upon the ear after -the Chevalier’s savage outburst, “you should know too that there -is a subject upon which I never allow any one to touch. Your first -insinuation I pass over with the contempt it deserves, but as regards -your observation on what you are pleased to call my love affairs, I can -only consider it as an intentional insult. And this is my answer.” - -The German in his turn had sprung to his feet, but Basil Jennico leant -across the table, and before he could guard himself struck him lightly -but deliberately across the mouth. - - - - -PART III - - - - -CHAPTER I - -MEMOIR OF CAPTAIN BASIL JENNICO (RESUMED IN THE SPRING OF THE YEAR 1773) - - - IN MY CASTLE OF TOLLENDHAL, _March, 1773_. - -IT is the will of one whose wishes are law to me that I should proceed -with these pages, begun under such stress of mental trouble, until I -bring the tangled story of Basil Jennico’s marriage to its singular -settlement. - -Without, as I now write, all over the land, the ice-bound brooks are -melting, and our fields and roads are deep in impassable mud. The whole -air is full of the breath of spring, as grateful to the nostrils as it -is stirring to the blood of man, to the sap of trees. - -But it is ill getting about, for all that the springtime is so -sweet—as sweet and as capricious as a woman wooed—and thus there is -time for this occupation of scribe; yet it is a curious task for one -bred to so vastly different a trade; neither, God knows, do I find time -heavy on my hands just now! Nevertheless, I must even end this preface -as I have begun it, and say that I am fain to do as I am bidden. - -The last line I traced upon these sheets (I am filled with a good deal -of wonder at, and no little admiration of myself, when I view what a -goodly mass I have already blackened) was penned at one of the darkest -moments of that dark year. - -M. de Schreckendorf—little messenger of such ill omen—had but just -departed, and in the month that followed his visit the courage had -failed me to resume my melancholy record, though truly I had things -to relate that a man might consider like to form a more than usually -thrilling chapter of autobiography. - -Towards the beginning of September, I, still a dweller upon my mother’s -little property—most peaceful haunt, it would seem, in the heart of -our peaceful land—began to find myself the object of a series of -murderous attacks—these, so repeated and inveterate, that it was -evident that they were dictated by the most deliberate purpose, and -the more alarming, perhaps, that I could give then no guess from what -quarter they proceeded. - -Suspicion fell on a poaching gang, on a dishonest groom, on a -discharged bailiff. At length, seeing my mother like to fall ill of the -anxiety, I consented to return to London, although the country life -and the wholesome excitement of sport had afforded me a relief from my -restlessness which existence in the town was far from providing. - -No sooner, however, was I fully installed in my London chambers, than -the persecution began afresh. I had fallen into an idle habit of going -night after night to White’s, there to bet and gamble with my modish -acquaintances. ’Twas not that the dice had any special attraction for -me, but that my nights were so long. - -On my way thither one mid-October foggy evening, my life was once more -attempted, and this time with a deliberation and ferocity which might -well have proved successful at last. - -As it was, however, I again providentially escaped, and was able to -proceed to the club, where I had an appointment with a poor youth—our -Norfolk neighbour, Sir John Beddoes—who had already lost a great deal -of money to me, and would not be content until he had lost a great deal -more: I had the most insupportable good luck. - -I little knew that I should find awaiting me there the greatest danger -I had yet to run; that the head which had directed all these blows in -the dark was, de guerre lasse, preparing to attack me in the open, and -push its malice to a certain climax. A foreign gentleman—one Chevalier -de Ville-Rouge, as I knew him then—had sedulously sought first my -acquaintance, and thereupon my company, for some weeks past. And though -I had not found him very entertaining—I was not in the mood to be -entertained by any one—I had no reason to deny him either the one or -the other. - -But this night, after first addressing me with looks and tones which -began to strike me as unwarrantable, he sat a round of hazard with me, -for the sole and determined purpose, as I even then saw, of grossly -insulting me. As a reply, I struck him across the face, for, however -transparent was the trap laid for me, the provocation before witnesses -was of a kind I could not pass over. And, ’fore Heaven, I believe I was -in my heart glad of the diversion! - -The meeting was fixed for the next morning. Neither of us would consent -to delay, and indeed the German’s whole demeanour, once he had given -a loose rein to his fury, was more that of a wild beast thirsting for -blood than of a being endowed with reason. - -Both Sir John Beddoes and Mr. Carew, who had formed our party, -indignant at the coarseness of the foreigner’s behaviour, volunteered -on the spot to be my seconds, and Carew, who has a subtle knowledge of -the etiquette of honour, arranged the details of our meeting. It was to -take place in Chelsea Gardens half an hour after sunrise. The weapons -chosen by M. de Ville-Rouge were swords, for although the quarrel had -been of his own seeking, my blow had given him the right of choice. - -It was two o’clock before I found myself again alone in my rooms that -night, my friends having conducted me home, and seeming somewhat loath -to retire. I was longing for a couple of hours’ solitude before the -dawn of the day which might be my last. I felt that my career had -reached its turning-point, that this was an event otherwise serious -than any of the quarrels in which I had been hitherto embroiled, and -that the conduct of affairs was not in my hands. - -Carew was anxious about me—he had never yet seen a duellist of my -kidney, I believe—and my very quietness puzzled him. - -“Make that nutcracker attendant of yours prepare you a hot drink, man,” -cried he, as at last, with honest Beddoes, he withdrew, “and get to -bed. Nothing will steady your hand like a spell of sleep.” - -But there was no sleep for me. Besides that the pain of the slight -wound which I had received in the night’s guet-apens was stiffening to -great soreness, there was an excitement in my brain—partially due to -the fever incident on the hurt—which would not permit the thought of -rest. - -I had but little business to transact. In view of the present -uncertainty of my life, I had recently drawn up a will in which, after -certain fitting legacies, I left my great fortune to my wife. Now I -merely gathered together the whole of this accumulated narrative of -mine into a weighty packet, and after addressing it, deposited it in -János’s hands with the strict injunction, in the event of my demise, to -deliver it personally to Ottilie. - -No farewell message would be so eloquent as these pages in which I had -laid bare the innermost thoughts of my soul since I first knew her. She -should receive no other message from me. I next tore up poor Beddoes’s -litter of I O U’s, and making a parcel of the fragments directed it to -him. János received my instructions with his usual taciturn docility, -yet if anything could have roused me from the curious state of apathy -in which I found myself, it would have been the sight of the dumb -concern on the faithful fellow’s countenance. - -Having thus put all my worldly affairs in order, I sat me down in -my armchair, awaiting the dawn, and viewed the past as one who has -done with life. I had a strong presentiment upon me that I should not -survive the meeting. - -At times, the vision of my wife sleeping, at that very moment, as I -had so often watched her sleep, lightly and easily as a child, little -wotting, little caring, perhaps, if she had wotted, of her husband’s -solemn vigil, would rise up before me with a vividness so cruel as -well-nigh to rouse me. But the new calmness of my soul defied these -assaults; an unknown philosophy had succeeded to the violence of my -emotions. - -When my seconds called for me in the first greyness of the morning -they found me ready for them. They themselves were shivering from the -raw cold, with arms thrust to the elbows into the depths of their -muffs; Carew, all yellow and shrivelled,—an old man of a sudden,—and -Beddoes, blue and purple, the sleep still in his swollen eyes, hardly -able to keep his teeth from chattering—a very schoolboy! They could -scarce conceal their amazement at my placidity. It was not, indeed, -that I found myself bodily fit for the contest, for the whole of my -left side was stiff, and I could hardly move that arm without pain; yet -placid I was, I scarcely now know why. - -Thus we set forth in Sir John Beddoes’s coach, János on the box, and -a civil, shy young man on the back seat beside Beddoes: this was, the -latter informed me, the best surgeon he had been able to secure at such -short notice. - -The fog disappeared, and when the mists evaporated it promised to be a -fine, bright, frosty morning. - -Now, it may be after all that I was a little light-headed with the heat -of the wound in my blood, for I have no very clear recollections of -that morning. It remains in my mind rather as a bright-coloured fantasy -than a series of events I have actually lived through. - -I remember, as a man may remember a scene in a play, a garden running -down to the river-side, very bare and desolate, and the figure and -face of my bulky antagonist as he conferred excitedly with two -outlandish-looking men, his seconds. These had fierce moustaches, and -reminded me vaguely of the cravat captains I had known in the Empire. -Then the scene shifts: we stand facing each other. I am glad of the -chill of the air, with nothing between it and my fevered breast but the -thinness of my shirt. But my opponent stamps like a menacing bull, as -if furious at the benumbing blasts. Now I am fighting—fighting for my -life—as never in battle or in single combat have I had need to fight -before. This is no courteous duel between gentlemen, no honourable -meeting, but the struggle of a man with his murderer. Physically at a -disadvantage from my hurt, I am moreover conscious that against this -brute fury all my skill at arms is of no avail and my strength is -rapidly failing. Then, as he drives me by the sheer weight of his mass, -I see his face thrust forward into mine, distorted with such a frenzy -that I wonder in a sort of unformed way why this man should thus thirst -to kill me. The next moment, with an extraordinary sense of universal -failure and disorganisation which is yet not pain, I realise that I am -hit—badly hit. - -Upon that instant I find my brain cleared to a lucidity I have never -felt before. I see my opponent’s sword flash ruby red with my own blood -in the sun rays; I see him smile, a smile of glorious triumph, which -cuts a deep dimple beside his lip; I hear him pant at me the strange -words, “Ha! Ottilie!” and then I am again seared, rent once more, and -to the sound of a howl of many voices my world falls into chaos and -exists no more. - - * * * * * - -It is sometimes but a short and easy way up to the gates of death, but -a long and weary journey back to life. It was a long and weary journey -to me. - -I was like to a man who travels in the dead of night over rough ways, -and now and again slumbers uneasily with troubled dreams, and now -looks out upon a glimmer of light in some house or village, and now on -nothing but the pitchy darkness; and yet he is always travelling on -and on till he is weary with madness of fatigue. And then, as the dawn -breaks upon the wanderer, and he sees a strange land around him, so the -dawn of what seemed a new existence began to break for me, and I looked -upon life anew with wondering eyes. - -At first I looked as the traveller may, with eyes so tired and drowsy -as scarce to care to notice. But in yet a little while I warmed and -quickened to the sun of returning health. I began to be something more -than a mere tortured mass of humanity; each breath was no longer misery -to draw; the mind was able to re-assert authority over the flesh. That -dark, watchful figure that seemed to have been sitting at the foot of -my bed for centuries, that was János! Poor old fellow! I could not -yet speak to him, but I could smile. My next thought was amaze that -I should be in a strange room; it had a very teasing tapestry; its -figures had worried me long before I could notice them. In a little -while I began to understand that I was not in my own chambers, and to -feel such irritation at the liberty which had been taken with me that I -should have demanded instant explanation had my strength been equal to -the task. - -But I come of too vigorous stock, the blood that runs in my veins is -too sweet—because I have not, like so many young fools of my day, -poisoned it with endless potations and dissoluteness—for me, when once -on the broad high road to recovery (to continue my travelling simile), -to dally over the ground. - -Moreover I was too well nursed. János, it seems, after the first couple -of visits, in each of which I was wisely bled of the diminished store -the Chevalier’s sword had left in my veins—János had had a great -quarrel with the surgeon, vowing he would not see his master’s murder -completed before his eyes and never a chance of hanging the murderer. - -It had ended in the old soldier taking the law into his own hands, -dismissing the man of medicine, and treating me after his own lights. -He had had a fairly good apprenticeship, having attended my uncle -through all his campaigns. As far as I am concerned I am convinced that -in this, as well as in another matter which I am about to relate, he -saved my life. - -The other matter has reference to the very change of quarters which -had excited my ire, the true explanation of which, however, I did not -receive until I was strong enough to entertain visitors. János would -give me little or no satisfaction. - -“I thought in myself it would be more wholesome for your honour -than your other house,” was the utmost I could extract. Indeed, he -strenuously discouraged all conversation. But the day when this -stern guardian first consented to admit Carew and Beddoes to my -presence,—and that was not till I could sit up in bed and converse -freely,—all that I had been curious about was made clear to me. - -Carew, indeed, had the virtue of being an excellent gossip. I had at -one time deemed it his only quality, but I learned better then. Both -the gentlemen, each in his own fashion, displayed a certain emotion at -seeing me again, in which pleasure at the fact of my being still in -the land of the living, and likely to remain so, was qualified by the -painful impression produced by my altered appearance. - -Sir John, the boy, sat himself down on the edge of my bed and squeezed -my hand in silence, with something like tears in his eyes. Carew, the -roué, was very deliberate in his choice of a chair, took snuff with a -vast deal of elegant gesture, and fired off, with it might be an excess -of merriment, such jocularities as he had gathered ready against the -occasion. Both of them seemed to deem it incumbent upon them to avoid -any reference to the duel. I, however, very promptly brought up the -subject. - -“Now, for God’s sake,” I said, “let a poor man who has been kept -like a child with a cross nurse—take your pap, go to sleep, ask no -questions—learn at last a little about himself. In the first place, -where am I? In the second, what has become of the red devil who brought -me to this pass?” - -“In the first place, Jennico,” said Carew, “you are at the house -of Lady Beddoes, mother to our friend here, a very pleasing little -residence situate on Richmond Hill. Secondly, that red devil, as you -call him, that most damnable villain, has fled the country, as well he -might, for if ever a knave deserved stringing up as high as Haman—but -of that anon. There is a good deal to tell you if you think you can -bear the excitement. - -“Well,” he pursued, upon my somewhat pettish asseveration, “I myself -think a little pleasant conversation will do you more good than harm. -To begin with, you are doubtless not aware that you are a dead man.” - -“How?” cried I, a little startled, for my nerve was yet none of the -strongest. - -“Nay, nay, dash you, Carew,” interposed Sir John, “don’t ye make those -jokes. Gruesome, I call ’em: it makes me creep! No, Basil, lad, thou -art alive, and wilt live to set that Chevalier, whoever he may be, -swinging for it yet.” And here in his eager partisanship he broke into -a volley of execrations which would have run my poor great-uncle’s -performances pretty close. - -“Why,” said I impatiently, “‘tis enigma to me still why I am here; why -I am dead; why the Chevalier should hang. I think you have all sworn to -drive me mad among you.” - -I was so evidently exasperated that Beddoes, all of a tremble, besought -Carew to explain the situation. - -“He’ll do himself a mischief,” he cried pathetically; “do you tell him, -Carew,—you know what a fool I am!” - -Carew was nothing loath to set about what was indeed the chief pleasure -of his life, the retailing of scandal; and it seems that the Jennico -duel was a very pretty scandal indeed. - -“I will take your last question first,” said he, settling himself to -his task with gusto. “Why the Chevalier should hang? Who he really is, -where he comes from, why he hates you with such deadly hatred, Jennico, -are all mysteries which I confess myself unable to fathom—doubtless -you can furnish us with the clue by-and-by.” - -As he spoke his pale eye kindled with a most devouring curiosity. -Nevertheless as I showed no desire to interrupt him by any little -confidence, he proceeded glibly: - -“But why the Chevalier should hang is another matter. Gadzooks, I’d run -him down myself were it but for his impudence in getting gentlemen like -myself to come and see foul play. Why, Jennico, man, don’t you know -that after charging you like a bull, and running you once through the -body, the scoundrel stabbed you again as you were sinking down and the -sword had dropped from your hand. I doubt me he would have spitted you -a third time to make quite sure, had not Beddoes and I fallen upon him.” - -“I’d have run him through,” here interposed Sir John excitedly; “I had -drawn for it, had I not, Dick?—and I’d have run him through, but that -the surgeon called out that you were dead; and dash me, between the -turn I got and the way those queer seconds of his hustled him away, -I lost the chance! And the three of them ran, they ran like rats, to -the river. Gad, I’d have left my mark on them even then, but Carew, be -hanged to him, held on by my coat-tails.” - -“‘Tis just as Jack told you,” said Carew. “No sooner had they heard you -were dead, my friend, than they ran for it, and it is quite true that I -restrained Jack here from sticking them in the back as they skedaddled. -A pretty affair of honour, indeed!” - -I lay back on my pillows awhile, musing. I had had time to reflect on -many things these days, and—God knows—there were enigmas enough in my -life to give me food for reflection. What I had just heard caused me no -surprise, tallying as it did with conclusions I had previously reached. - -After a moment Carew cleared his throat, edged his chair a foot nearer, -and queried confidentially: “Did it never strike you that the Chevalier -must have been part and parcel, if not the moving spirit, of those -attacks upon your life which you told us of that night at the club? You -did not appear to have a notion of it then. Yet there was not a man of -us there who did not see but the quarrel was deliberately got up.” - -“And d’ye mind,” cried Sir John, “how he bet me you would not live a -month?” - -“Ay,” said Carew, “and Jennico knows best himself if in his gay youth, -in foreign parts, he has not given good cause for this mortal enmity, -though to be sure the mystery thickens when we remember how friendly -you were with each other. Jennico is such a close dog; he keeps such a -dashed tight counsel!” - -I smiled. Jennico would keep his counsel still. I meant these good -fellows should expound my riddles for me, not I theirs. - -“But since I am dead,” said I, “I fear, Jack, thou hast lost on me -again.” - -“The gentleman did not leave his address,” said Sir John with a grin; -and he furtively squeezed my hand to express his secret sense of the -little transaction of the I O U’s. - -“We made some clamour at the Embassy, I promise you,” interposed Carew; -“we were anxious to pay him all his due, you may be sure. But devil a -bit of satisfaction could we get, save indeed that the Ambassador took -to his bed with a fit of gout, and you being dead, Jennico,—you are -dead still, remember,—to bury you was the best thing your friends -could do for you, till you were able to take fit measures to protect -yourself. And indeed it was that queer old Tartar of yours, your János, -or whatever you call him, who loudly insisted upon your demise, when we -found the first alarm was unfounded and that you still breathed. Gad, I -believe you have as many lives as a cat! This fellow then says to us in -his queer jargon: ’My master lives, but he must all the same be thought -dead.’ And faith he besought us with such urgency, that, what with -seeing you lying there, and knowing what we knew of the foul play that -had been practised upon you, we were ready enough to fall in with his -desires. Sir John bethought him of his mother’s house at Richmond, and -offered to accompany you there,—or rather your body: you were little -less just then. Next the surgeon swore the journey would kill you, and -your servant swore you should not be harboured in the town. The fellow -knew you: ’Good breed,’ he said, ’not easily killed!’ And so he won -the day, and Miles the surgeon gave in; but indeed he told me apart, -’twas waste of time disputing, for anyhow you could not see the noon. -But here you are at my Lady Beddoes’s house at Richmond, alive and like -to live, though you have ceased to exist for most men. There was a -charming, really a most touching, obituary notice in the Gazettes; you -have been duly lamented at the clubs—and forgotten within the usual -nine days. Rumours will soon begin to get about of course, but nobody -knows anything positive. The secret is still kept. János, I believe, -has contrived to assuage the anxiety of your relatives.” - -Here the speaker took so copious a pinch to refresh himself after his -long speech that he set me off sneezing, whereupon my special Cerberus -promptly made his appearance and bundled the visitors forth without -more ado. - - * * * * * - -I have said that my friend’s belief in the Chevalier’s implication in -the divers murderous onsets that had been made upon me, previous to his -own, did not surprise me. The memory of M. de Ville-Rouge’s cry, as he -dealt me what he believed my death stroke,—a cry in which it would -be hard to say whether savage triumph or sheer vindictiveness most -predominated,—had come back on me, as soon as I could think at all, -with most revealing force. - -His arrival in England had coincided with the beginning of the -persecution. The look on his face as I had last seen it, that smile and -that dimple, had haunted me during long hours of delirium with a most -maddening, grotesque, and horrible likeness to the face of her I had -so loved. Coupling these things in later sanity of mind with the other -evidence, I could not doubt but that here had been some relative of -Ottilie, who had interest to put an end to her husband’s existence. Had -not her pock-marked Mercury at the close of our interview uttered words -of earnest warning? ay, I minded them now: - -“The matter will not end here.... Have a care, young man....” - -As I thought of all this, as the whole meaning of what had seemed so -mysterious now lay clear before me, I would be seized with a sort of -deadly anguish, compared to which all my previous sufferings, whether -of body or mind, had been but trivial. Could she, could Ottilie, have -_known_ of this work? Could she—have _inspired_ it? - -The sweat that would break out upon me at such a thought was more -than all my fever had wrung from my body, and my faithful leech would -wonder to find me faint and reeking, and would puzzle his poor brains -in vain upon the cause, and decoct me new teas of dreadful compounds, -febrifuges which he vowed had never failed. - -But then at other times the vision of my wife would rise before me and -shame me. I would see again her noble brow, her clear eye, her arched -and innocent lip, and in my weakness and the passion of my longing I -would turn and weep upon my pillow to think that, having to my sorrow -lost her, I should come now to lose even my faith in her, and yet -should love her still with such mad love. - -Now there must be, as János would have it, something remarkably tough -in the breed of Jennico for me to recover from such wounds both bodily -and mental. Recover I did, however, in spite of all odds; and a resolve -I made with returning strength did a good deal to ease my mind, tossed -between such torturing fluctuations. - -This resolve was no less than to leave the country some fine morning, -in secret, so soon as I could undertake the journey with any likelihood -of being able to persevere in it, to speed to Budissin, and discover -for myself the real attitude of Ottilie towards me. I was determined -that, according as I found her,—either what my heart would still deem -her, or yet so base a thing as the fiend whispered,—that I would try -to win her back, were I to die in the attempt, or thrust her from my -life for ever. - -Thus when I heard that my enemy and the world believed me dead, when I -realised that she too must probably share in the delusion, I was glad, -for not only would it materially facilitate my re-entering the Duchy, -but it would afford me an excellent opportunity of judging her real -feelings. I had no doubt but that, if I set to work in a proper manner -and duly preserved my incognito, I should be able, now that all pretext -for quarantine had disappeared, to secure an interview without too much -difficulty. - -So all my desires hastening towards that goal, I set myself to become -a whole man again with so much energy that even János was surprised at -the rapidity of my progress. - - - - -CHAPTER II - - -IT was towards the middle of December that we started upon the -journey—a little sooner indeed than my surgeon and mentor approved of, -but his power over me dwindled as my own strength returned. - -Being chiefly anxious to preserve my incognito, I hesitated some time -before permitting János to accompany me, his personal appearance -unfortunately being of a kind unlikely to be forgotten when once seen. -But, besides the fact that I could not find it in me to inflict such -pain upon that excellent fellow, there was an undoubted advantage to -myself in the presence of one upon whose fidelity and courage I could -so absolutely reckon in an expedition likely to prove of extreme -difficulty and perhaps of peril. Moreover, the man would have followed -me in spite of me. I insisted, however, upon his shaving off his great -pandour moustaches—a process which though it altered did not improve -his appearance; his aspect, indeed, being now so fantastically ugly as -to drive me, despite my preoccupation, into inextinguishable paroxysms -of laughter every time I unexpectedly got a glimpse of his visage, -until habit wore away the impression. - -As to myself, my long illness had, as I thought, sufficiently changed -me. Besides, the news of my resurrection was too recently and too -vaguely rumoured in London to have reached, or to be likely to reach, -the Continent for many a long day. - -Under the humble style, therefore, of a Munich gentleman returning -from his travels,—one Theodor Desberger, with his attendant (now -dubbed Johann), a character which my Austrian-German fitly enabled me -to sustain,—I set sail from London to Hamburg, and after a favourable -sea-passage, which did much to invigorate me, we landed in the free -city and proceeded towards Budissin by easy stages; for, despite -the ardour of my impatience, I felt the importance of husbanding my -newly-acquired strength. At Budissin we put up of course at a different -hostelry from that chosen upon our first venture—one much farther away -from the palace. - -The little town presented now a very different aspect. Indeed, its -gay and cheery bustle, and the crisp frosty weather which greeted -us there, might have raised inspiriting thoughts. But it was with a -heart very full of anxiety, with the determination rather to face ill -fortune bravely than the hope of good, that I passed the night. I got -but little sleep, for, having reached my goal, I scarcely knew how to -begin. Nor in the morning had I arrived at any definite conclusion. - -The risk of presenting myself in person at the palace after my former -fashion was too great to be entertained for a moment. I had therefore -to content myself with despatching János to make cautious inquiries -as to one Fräulein Pahlen and her relatives, not forgetting a bulky -gentleman he knew of, recently returned from England. - -I myself, in my plainest suit, and with my cloak disposed as a muffler, -partly concealing my face, set forth upon my side to gather what crumbs -of information I might. - -At the very outset I had a most singular meeting. Traversing the little -town in the brisk morning air under a dome of palest blue, I naturally -directed my steps towards the castle, seated on its terrace and -towering above the citizens’ brown roofs. - -I had taken a somewhat circuitous route to avoid passing in front of -the main guard, and found myself presently in a quiet street, one side -of which was bound by the castle garden walls, and the other—that -upon which I walked—by a row of private houses seemingly of some -importance. Now, as I walked, engaged in gazing upwards at the long -row of escutcheoned windows which I could just see above the wall, and -foolishly wondering through which of them my cruel little wife might be -wont to look forth into the outer world, I nearly collided with a woman -who was hurrying out of one of the houses. - -As I drew back to recover myself, and to apologise, something in the -dark figure struck me with poignant reminiscence. The next instant, as -she would have passed me, I caught her by the shoulder. - -“Anna!” I cried wildly, “God be thanked, Anna!” For upon this very -first morning of my quest Heaven had brought me face to face with no -less a person than Ottilie’s old nurse. - -The recognition on her side was almost simultaneous. No sooner had the -muffling cloak fallen from my mouth, than the dull and rather surly -countenance that she had turned upon me became convulsed by the most -extraordinary emotion. She gave a stifled cry. Then she clapped her -hands together, pressed them clasped against her cheek, and stared at -me with piercing intensity, crying again and again: - -“God in heaven—you! God in heaven—you!” The black eyes were as hard -to read as those of a shepherd’s dog, who fixes with the same earnest -look the master he loves or the enemy he suspects. And as we stood -thus, the space of a few seconds, my mind misgave me as to whether -I had not already jeopardised all my prospects by this impulsive -disclosure. It was evident that the woman had heard the story of my -death, which in this hostile place was my chief security. But the -die was cast, and the chance of information was too precious not -to be seized even at greater risks. I laid hold of her cloak, then -passionately grasped her hands. “Oh, Anna!” I cried again, and the bare -thought that I was once more so near the beloved of my heart brought in -my weakness the heat of tears to my eyes. “Where is she? Where is my -wife? What does she? Anna, I must see her. My life is in danger in this -place; they have tried to kill me because I love her, but I had rather -risk death again a thousand times than give her up. Take me to her, -Anna!” - -The woman had never ceased regarding me with the same enigmatic -earnestness; all at once her eyes lightened, she looked from side to -side with the cautiousness of some animal conscious of danger, then -wrenched her hands out of mine: - -“Follow me, sir,” she said in a whisper, so urgent in its apprehension -as to strike a colder chill into my veins than the wildest scream -could have done. Without another glance at me she started off in front, -and I as hastily followed, almost mechanically flinging my cloak once -more across my mouth as I moved on. - -Whither was she leading me? Into the hands of my enemies, whoever they -were?—she had always, I had thought, hated me—or into the arms of my -wife? - -She turned away from the palace, down a bye-street, and then took -another turn which brought us into a poor alley where the houses became -almost cottages, and where the gutters ran among the cobbles with -liquid filth. - -My wild hope gave place to sinister foreboding; and as I plodded -carefully after her unwavering figure, I loosened the hilt of my sword -in its scabbard, and settled the folds of my cloak around my left arm -so that at a pinch I might doff it and use it for defence. - -Suddenly my guide halted for a second, looked at me over her shoulder, -and disappeared down some steps into the open door of a mean little -shop. I entered after her, at once disappointed in all my expectations -and reassured by the humble vulgarity of the place. Anna, as I had ever -known her, was chary of speech. Even, as stooping I made my way into -the low, gloomy, and evil-smelling narrow room, I saw her imperiously -motion an ugly sallow young woman out of her presence; and, still in -silence, I watched her, wondering, as she made fast the doors and bent -her dark face to listen if all were still. Then she produced from a -counter, paper, ink, and pen, and spreading them out turned to me with -a single word: “Write.” - -So small was the result of all these preliminaries. - -“You mean,” said I, “that if I write to your mistress, you will convey -the letter? Alas! I have written before and she would not even receive -my writing. Oh! can you not get me speech of her? I conjure you by the -love you bear her, let me see her but for a few minutes.” - -The woman fixed me for a second with a startled wondering eye, opened -her mouth as if to speak, but immediately clapped her hand to it as if -to restrain the words. Then, with a passion of entreaty that it was -impossible to withstand, she pointed to the paper and cried once more, -“Write.” - -And so I seemed ever destined to communicate with my wife from strange -places and by strange messengers. - -With a trembling hand and a brain in a whirl I wrote—I hardly know -what: a wild, passionate, reproachful appeal, setting forth in -incoherent words all I had done and suffered, all my desire, all my -faithful love. When I looked up at length I found the black eyes still -watching me with the same inscrutable fierceness. I was going to trust -my life and its hopes to this woman, and for a moment I hesitated. -But at the same instant there was some noise without, and snatching -the letter unfinished from before me, she thrust it into her bosom, -folded her cloak across it, and stooping close to me demanded in her -breathless undertone: - -“Where do you live?” - -Mechanically I told her, adding: “Ask for M. Desberger.” - -She nodded with swift comprehension, unbolted the barred front door of -the little shop, and drew me hastily out by the back, along a close, -flagged passage, leaving an irate customer hammering and clamouring for -admittance. - -We proceeded through a small yard into another alley, and here she -halted a second, still detaining me by my cloak. - -“Go home,” she said then; “keep close. There is danger—danger. You -will hear.” - -She suddenly caught my hand, kissed it, and was gone. I stood awhile -bewildered, astonished, staring, hardly able to grasp the meaning -of what had passed, for this last scene in the drama of my life had -been acted hurriedly and was full of mysterious significance. Then, -unobtrusively, I sought the shelter of my own inn, resolving to obey -to the letter the injunctions laid upon me; but fate had willed it -otherwise. - -Determined not to interfere with the course of fortune by any least -indocility, I retired into the seclusion of my chambers, and pretexting -a slight indisposition, to rouse no undue suspicion by an air of -mystery, gave orders for my dinner to be served there. - -A stout red-cheeked wench with rough bare arms had just, grinning, -clattered the first greasy dish before me, when I heard János’s foot -upon the stairs. I had learnt to know the sound of his step pretty well -in my recent weeks of sickness, but I had not been wont to hear it come -so laggingly, and the fact that it halted altogether outside the door -for a second or two, as if its owner hesitated to enter, filled me with -such a furious impatience that I got up and flung it open to wrest his -news from him. Not even when he had held up my poor great-uncle in his -arms to let him draw his last breath on earth, had I seen the fellow -wear a countenance of such discomposure. - -“In Heaven’s name, János,” cried I, and the sturdy house-wench turned -and stared at him more agoggle and agrin than before. - -“Get out of that, you ——” cried my servitor, snapping at her with -such sourness, and so forgetful of the decorum he usually displayed in -my presence, that it was clear he was mightily moved. - -She fled as if some savage old watch-dog had nipped at her heel, and we -were alone. - -I had returned from my own exploration full of hope, and at the same -time of wonder, so that I was at once ill and well prepared for any -tidings, however extraordinary. But János’s tidings seemed difficult of -telling. - -“Let us go home, honoured sir” he stammered again and again, surveying -me with a compassion and an anxiety he had not vouchsafed upon me at -the worst of my illness. I had to drag the words from him piecemeal, as -the torturer forces out the unwilling confession. - -Yes, he had news—bad news. This was no place for me. It was not -wholesome for us here. Let us return to Tollendhal, or Vienna, or even -England. Let us start before further mischief overtook us. - -I believe I fell upon him at last and shook him. What had he heard. -What had he heard of her? I vowed he was driving me mad, vowed that -if he did not instantly tell me all I would throw caution to the wind -and go to the palace and demand my wife in person, were it of the Duke -himself. This threat extorted at length the terrible thing that even -the rough old soldier feared to utter. - -“The lady,” he stammered, “the lady can no longer be spoken of as your -honour’s wife. She is married.” - -“Married!” I cried. “What do you mean, you scoundrel? No longer my -wife! Married! You are raving—this is stark lunacy.” - -He shook his grey head under the shower of my fury. - -“Married. Does your honour forget that they think here that they have -at last succeeded in killing you?” - -I looked at him aghast, unwilling to admit the awful illumination that -flashed upon my mind. He, believing me still incredulous, proceeded: - -“Married she is. Fräulein Pahlen, the lady-in-waiting,—Fräulein -Pahlen, as your honour bade me call her, and as it seems she called -herself until ...” and then with a significant emphasis, “until six -weeks ago.” - -“And who is the man?” said I. The words sounded in my ears as if some -one else had spoken, but I believe I was astoundingly calm. - -Misled no doubt by this appearance of composure, János seemed to take -more confidence, and continued in easier tones, while I held myself -still to listen. - -“It is the Court physician, one privy counsellor Lothner. I was shown -his house, a big one in the Schloss Graben, number ten, opposite the -palace walls. Ay, yes, they were married six weeks ago, and the Duke -was present at the marriage ... and the Princess too! They say it was -made up by their wishes. Oh! honoured sir, let us hence. You are well -quit of it all; this is a bad place!” - -Yet I stood without moving. Chasm after chasm, horror after horror, -seemed to be opening before my mind; chasms so black that I scarce -ventured to look into their depths; horrors so unspeakable that I could -put no word-shape to them. After Ottilie’s messenger had failed to -induce me to give up my rights, had come the attempts upon my life, -then the duel. The mysterious stranger who had sought to slay me with -such rancorous hate, and had called “_Ottilie_” into my dying ears, had -returned to claim his bride, and they had wedded in their blood-guilt. -Well might the nurse cry and repeat the cry of “God in heaven! God in -heaven!” - -What new ambush would they now contrive? - -“Your honour——” said János, and he put his hand respectfully upon my -sleeve. I caught sight of his frightened face and burst into a fit of -rasping laughter. - -“Look at your master, János, and see the greatest fool in Christendom! -The fool of the play, that is tricked and mocked and beaten from one -act to another. Tricked into marrying a serving-maid instead of a -princess; tricked into loving her when he should have repudiated her -with scorn; abandoned by her when he could no longer live without her; -mocked when he sought his wife; driven away by lackeys; stabbed by a -murdering hound, a skulking thief in the night!... But the last act is -only about to begin—every one has had his laugh at the fool, but we -shall see, János, we shall see! He laughs best who laughs last, they -say. Ten, Schloss Graben, did you say?” - -I caught my cloak. I think the faithful fellow actually laid hands upon -me to arrest me, but I broke from him as if his clasp had been a straw. - -“I’ll drive my sword,” I remember saying, “into the first man who -dares come between me and my purpose.” - -And indeed as I fled along the street, scarce knowing what way I took, -yet going as straight as a die to my goal, I had no other thought but -how clean I would run my blade through the clumsy lumbering brute who -deemed he had so well widowed my wife. I had the strength of ten men in -me. - - - - -CHAPTER III - - -WHEN I reached the Schloss Graben I stood a moment to reconnoitre, and -found myself in the same still, cobble-paved road where I had met Anna -a few hours before. On my left rose the high garden-walls overtopped -by a web of bare interlacing branches, and over that again the palace -windows and its mansard roof; on my right the row of silent brown or -red stone houses, well-to-do and snugly private, with beaten iron bars -to the low windows and great scallop shells over the doors. This was -the house down the stone steps of which my wife’s servant had come -this morning, and this was number ten. Of course! How clear it was all -becoming to me! I dashed the sweat from my brow, for I had come like -a lamplighter. Then I tramped up the three steps and again halted a -second. How quiet the house was! - -But I should soon put some bustle into it, I said to myself, and -smiled. I plied the knocker till the sleeping echoes awoke, and I hung -on the iron rope of the bell till the shrill protest of the jingling -peal rang out into the street. There came other sounds from within as -of a flutter in a dovecot. Doors were opened and shut precipitately. -A window was thrown back above my head; there was a vision of a -white-capped face thrust forward and withdrawn; and, indeed, like -rabbits from a warren, most, I believe, of the idle servants in the -street were popping out to see whence could proceed such unholy -clangour. - -The door before me was at length cautiously and slowly opened, and -through the aperture the frightened, rose-red face of a maid looked out -at me. - -I saw that I had been incautious, and therefore addressed her with a -suave mock courtesy. Indeed, now that the actual moment had come I felt -stealing over me a very deadly calm. - -“Forgive me,” said I, “my wench, for disturbing you thus rudely. I see -I have alarmed you. These are, however, but old soldiers’ ways, which -I trust your good mistress will pardon to an old friend. Your mistress -is, if I mistake not, now the doctor’s lady. But when I knew her she -was Fräulein Ottilie Pahlen.” - -The girl’s mouth had, during this long speech, which in my new mood -came glibly enough to my lips, become broadened into a grin. There are -very few girls in the Empire, I have been told, that will not feel -mollified towards a soldier. - -“Is your mistress within?” I pursued. - -She dropped a curtsey, and after a comprehensive glance over my person -threw open the door. Would the gentleman walk in? She brought me -through a brick-paved hall into a long low oak-panelled room, all dark -and yet all shining with polish. It was very hot from a high china -stove. - -“What visitor shall I announce to the gracious lady?” she asked, -sidling towards me, and thrusting her apple face as forward as she -dared. - -“I am so old a friend, in fact, I may say so near a connection, that I -should like to give your gracious lady a pleasant surprise,” said I; “I -will not therefore give my name.” As a propitiatory after-thought, I -pinched the hard red cheek and dropped a coin into her apron pocket. I -tried to make my smile very sweet, but it felt stiff upon my lips. She, -however, saw nought amiss, and pattered out well content. - -Then followed a few minutes’ waiting; all had grown still again around -me. Through the deep recessed windows I looked forth into a little -courtyard with one bare tree. This, then, was the home Ottilie had -chosen instead of an English estate, instead of Tollendhal, instead of -all I could offer her in courtly Vienna or great London! How she must -love this man! Or was it only the plebeian instinct reasserting itself -in spite of all?... The Court doctor’s lady! - -I heard a footfall on the bare-boarded stair, and with a smile that was -this time the natural expression of the complicated bitterness of my -soul, I moved a few steps so as to place myself in the best light. - -My wife was, perhaps, still in ignorance of my escape from death. -Anna had not yet carried her grievous news of the failure of their -endeavours. Indeed, this was evident from the general placidity of the -household, as well as the staid regularity of the approaching steps. To -witness her joy at the discovery was sufficient revenge for the moment. -After that the reckoning would be with—well, with my successor. - -Such was the state of my thoughts at the crucial moment of my strange -story. - -I have said that I was calm, but during the little pause that took -place between the cessation of the footsteps and the turning of the -lock I could hear the beating of my own heart like the measured roar of -a drum in battle. - -Then was the door opened, and before me stood—-not Ottilie, who had -been my Ottilie, but the other Ottilie, the Princess! She was advancing -upon me with the old well-remembered gracious smile, when all at once -she halted with much the same terror-stricken look with which Anna -earlier in the day had recognised me, and clasped her hands, crying: - -“God be merciful to us, M. de Jennico!” and seemed the next instant -ready to burst into tears. - -In the first confusion of my thoughts, in the rage created by this -eternal _quid pro quo_—that I should ever find the lady-in-waiting -when I wanted the Princess, and the Princess when I wanted the -lady-in-waiting,—I might have been inclined to think that Anna had -after all spread her tidings, and that my wife’s former mistress -had come to her aid at this awkward moment; but the surprise and -consternation on this woman’s countenance were too genuine to have been -counterfeit. - -Whatever reason brought the Princess here I was in no humour to inquire. - -“I came to see my wife, Madam,” said I, “and not to presume upon your -Highness’s condescension. I am determined to see my wife,” I insisted; -“that Ottilie Pahlen, who was your maid of honour, and lived with me -as my wife for a month, as your Highness well knows, and who was in -such haste to wed this Court doctor of yours at the first rumour of her -husband’s death.” - -I spoke in a very uncourtier-like rage. But she whom I addressed -showed neither anger nor astonishment, but sank into the nearest -chair, a mere heap of soft distressed womanhood, wringing her plump -dimpled hands, while tears of extraordinary size suffused her eyes and -overflowed upon her cheeks. - -At sight of this my heat fell away; I threw myself on my knees beside -her, and, all forgetful of the distance between us, took one of her -hands in mine and poured forth an appeal. - -“You were always kind to me; be kind now. I must see my wife. I have -been cruelly treated; I am surrounded with enemies; be you my friend!” - -She leant forward and looked at me earnestly with swimming eyes. - -“Is it possible,” she exclaimed—“is it possible, M. de Jennico, that -you have not found out yet?... that you do not suspect?...” - -Even as she spoke, and while I knelt looking up at her, the scales fell -from my eyes. I needed no further word. I knew. How was it possible, -indeed, that I should not have known before? I saw as in a flash that -this comely burgher woman was not, had never been, never could have -been, the Princess. I saw that the hand I still unconsciously held -bore marks of household toil, that on the third finger glittered a new -wedding ring. Then a thousand memories rushed into my mind, a thousand -confirmatory details. Oh, blind—blind—blind that I had been—fool, -and worse than fool! The mystery of my wife’s mocking smile; the secret -that had so often hung unspoken on her lips; her careless pretty ways; -the depth of her injured pride; and then the manner in which she -had been guarded from me, the force employed against me, the secret -diplomatic attempts to free her, followed, on their failure, by the -relentless determination to do away with me altogether! Before my -reeling brain it all rose into towering conviction—a joy, a sorrow, -both too keen for humanity to bear, seized upon my weakened frame. I -heard as if in the far distance the words the woman near me was saying: - -“It all began by a freak of her Highness, ...” and with the echo of -them whirling as it were in a mad dance through my brain to the sound -of thundering cataracts, a whirlpool of flame spreading before my eyes, -I fell with a crash, as it seemed, into a yawning black abyss. - -When I again came to myself the cold air was blowing in upon me through -the open casement, and I was stretched full length on a hard floor, in -what seemed a perfect deluge of the very strongest vinegar I have ever -smelt. At one side of me knelt my hostess, her healthy face blanched -almost beyond recognition. On the other, between my wandering gaze -and the window, swam the visage of the maid, eyes and mouth as round -as horror could make them, but with cheeks the ruddiness of which, it -seemed, no emotion could mitigate. - -Both my kind attendants gave a cry as I opened my eyes. - -“He is recovering, Trude,” said Madam Lothner (to call her now by her -proper name). - -“Ah! gracious lady,” answered the wench in an unctuous tone of -importance; “his face is still as red as the beet I was pickling when I -heard you scream—would God the master were here to bleed him. Shall I -send into the town to seek him?” - -“God forbid!” cried her mistress, in a hasty and peremptory tone. “No, -I tell you, Trude, he is recovering, and I have not been a doctor’s -wife these six weeks for nothing. The flush is fading even as I look at -him. See thee here, fetch me some of the cordial water.” - -I do not know how far her six weeks’ association with the medical -luminary, her husband, had profited Madam Lothner. I have since been -told that her administration of cordial, immediately upon such a blood -stroke to the head as mine, ought really to have finished me off. But -as it happened it did me a vast deal of good, and I was soon able to -shake off the giddiness, the sickness, and the general confusion of my -system. - -With recovered wits it gradually became apparent to me that while Madam -Lothner continued to ply me with every assistance she could think -of, regarding me with eyes in which shone most kindly and womanly -benevolence, her chief anxiety nevertheless was to get rid of me with -all possible despatch. - -But I was not likely to give up such an opportunity. The chaos in my -mind consequent upon the unexpected revelation, and its disastrous -physical effect, was such as to render me no very coherent inquisitor. -Nevertheless, the determination to learn all that this woman could tell -me about my wife rose predominant above the seething of my thoughts. - -Ottilie, my wife, was Ottilie the Princess after all! I had felt the -truth before it had been told me. But whilst they removed an agonising -supposition, these struck me nevertheless as strange unhomely tidings -which opened fresh difficulties in my path—difficulties the full -import of which were every second more strongly borne upon me. Ottilie -the Princess!... Everything was changed, and the relentless attitude -of the Princess bore a very different aspect to the mere resentment of -the injured wife. When my letters had been flung back in my face, when -I had been kidnapped and expelled the country, it had been then by her -orders. She had sent to demand the divorce. Who had set the bravo on -my track? By whose wish had my life been so basely, so persistently, -attempted? By hers—Ottilie, the Princess? A Princess who had repented -of her freak, whose pride, whose reputation, had suffered from the -stigma of an unequal match. - -The man whose sword had twice passed through my body had called out, -“Ha! Ottilie!” Who dare call on a Princess thus save her kinsman -or—her lover? - -I felt the blood surge through me again, but this time in my anger it -brought a sense of courage and strength. I interrupted Madam Lothner -as, with a joyful exclamation that I was now quite restored, she was -about to issue an order for the summary fetching of a hired coach. - -“Let your maid go,” said I authoritatively, “but not for a coach. I -have yet much to say to you.” - -I was without pity for the distress this demand occasioned, deaf to the -hurried whisper: - -“For pity’s sake, go now that you can. You are in danger here. Think of -yourself, if you will not think of me!” - -“I can think of but one person,” said I harshly. “I have come a -thousand miles to learn things which I know you can tell me, and here -I remain until I have heard them. Any delay on your side will only -prolong the danger, since danger there be.” - -She looked up in tearful pleading, met my obstinate gaze, and instantly -submitted—a woman born to be ruled. - -“Go, Trude,” she said faintly, “and warn me if you see your master -coming. What will she think of me?” sighed the poor lady as the door -closed upon an awe-struck but evidently suspicious Trude. “But no -matter, better that just now than the truth. Now, sir, for God’s sake, -what is it you would have of me?” - -“Let me go back,” said I, “to the beginning. When I married ... my -wife at Tollendhal, she was then, for a freak as you say, acting the -lady-in-waiting, while you assumed her rôle of Princess?” - -“It is so,” said Madam Lothner, “but I never knew till the deed was -accomplished to what length her Highness had chosen to push her folly. -I could not then attempt to interfere or advise, still less could I be -the person to send tidings to the Court.” - -“So?” said I, as she paused. - -“So,” said she, “in great fear and trembling, I deemed it best to -obey her Highness’s strict command, and await events at the Castle of -Schreckendorf, still in my assumed part.” - -“But when my wife returned to you,” I said, and my voice shook, -“returned to you in a peasant’s cart,—oh, I know all about it, Madam, -I know that I drove her forth through the most insensate pride that -ever lost soul its paradise,—when she returned, the truth must have -already been known?” - -“Ach, yes,” murmured the sentimental Saxon, her eyes watering with very -sympathy at the sight of my bitter self-reproach. “Yes, it was because -of rumours which had already reached the residence (from your friends -in England, I believe), that his Serene Highness the Duke sent in -such haste to recall us. He would not come himself for fear of giving -weight to the scandal. But it was her Highness who chose to confirm the -report.” - -“How?” cried I eagerly. - -“Why, sir,” answered the doctor’s lady, flowing on not unwillingly in -her soft guttural, though visibly perturbed nevertheless, and now and -again anxiously alive to any sound without—“why, sir, her Highness -having returned to Schreckendorf before the arrival of the ladies -and gentlemen from Lausitz, and being, it seemed, determined”—here -she hesitated and glanced at me timidly—“determined not to return -to Tollendhal ever again, her Highness might easily, had she wished, -have denied the whole story. And indeed,” continued the speaker with a -shrewdness I would not have given her credit for, “had she so behaved -it would have best pleased her relations. But she was not so made.” - -“Ah, no indeed,” said I, “her pride would not stoop to that.” - -“You are right,” said Madam Lothner, with a sigh, “she is very proud. -She was calm and seemed to have quite made up her mind. ’I will give no -explanation to any one,’ she said to me, ’and I recognise in no one the -right to question me. But my father shall know that I am married, and -that I am separated from my husband for ever. I am not the first woman -of my rank on whom such a fate has fallen.’ That was her attitude.” - -And here the good creature broke forth as if in spite of herself with -passionate expostulation. - -“Ah, M. de Jennico, but she suffered! Oh, if you would atone, leave -her now, leave her at least in peace! You have brought enough sorrow -already into her life. Ach! I do not know how it has been between you; -but now that she thinks you dead, for God’s sake let it be!” - -“By Heaven, Madam,” cried I, half mad, I believe, between pain, -remorse, and fury, “these are strange counsels! Do you forget that -we are man and wife, and this by her own doing? But truly I need not -be surprised, for you do not hesitate before crime at the Court of -Lausitz, and if murder be so lightly condoned, sure it is that bigamy -must seem a very peccadillo.” - -Madam Lothner stared at me with startled eyes and dropping jaw. - -“Murder,” she whispered, “M. de Jennico! what terrible thing do you -say?” - -Then she put her hand to her head, ejaculating: “True, it was the -Margrave himself who brought us news of your death on his return from -England. It was in the English papers. I feared I know not what, but -this—this—God save us!” - -I looked at her in fresh bewilderment. She was as one seized by -overwhelming terror. I felt that her emotion had its origin in causes -still unknown to me. - -“And who is the Margrave?” I cried quickly. - -She lowered her voice to the barest breath of sound, and glanced -fearfully over her shoulder as if afraid of eavesdroppers even in this -retired room. - -“Prince Eugen, as they call him,” she said, “one of her Highness’s -cousins. He has, I do not quite know how, hopes of sovereignty in -Poland, and they were to have been married: it was her father’s wish, -and it is so still.” - -I sprang up with an imprecation, but the lady almost flung herself upon -me, and clapped her hand over my mouth. - -“In the name of God,” she said, “be still, or you will ruin us! My -husband is his most devoted adherent. In this house he rules, and we -bow to the earth before him.” - -I sank back into my seat, docile, in spite of myself, impressed by the -strength of her fear. New trains of revelations crowded upon me. Eugen -of Liegnitz-Rothenburg—Rothenburg—Ville-Rouge—I saw it all! - -She went on, bringing her mouth close to my ear: - -“The Princess hated him, and indeed he has grown into a strange and -terrifying man, so oddly impulsive, cruel, wilful, vindictive. He -always professed to love the Princess, but I cannot but think that -it was the love of taming—he would dearly love to break her, just -as he loves to break the proudest-spirited horse. His grey eye makes -me grow cold. As I said, from a child she hated him, and it was for -that—having seen one whom she thought she could love....” Here she -paused, and glanced at me, and hesitated. - -It was for that. I remembered. She had told me of the unhappy fate that -threatened “the Princess” that evening when we met under the fir-trees -to decide upon my crazy match, and when, as I had deemed, she had -fooled me to the top of my bent. She had spoken in tones of scathing -contempt and hatred of some cavalier. And now? Suddenly gripped by the -old devil of doubt and jealousy, I cried out, “And now, after all, the -fate of being wedded to an obscure gentleman seems to her more dreadful -than that of sharing her place with her cousin, and the peculiar -qualities of the hated relative have been very usefully employed in -ridding her of the inconvenient husband? Oh, Madam, of course you -know your Court of Lausitz, and I think I begin to see your drift: -you think, in your amiability, that it would be preferable to see -your mistress bigamously united, than that she should legitimise her -position by yet another and more successful attempt at assassination.” - -“I fail to understand you, sir,” drawing back from me, nevertheless, -with a glance of mistrust and indignation. - -“I will be plain,” said I: “when the Princess, who is my wife, left -me,—I will own I bear some blame, but then I had been strangely -played with,—she had doubtless already begun to repent what you call -her freak. When I followed her and implored her forgiveness,—you -yourself know all about it, Madam, for you must have acted under -her orders,—she flung back my letters, through your agency, with a -contemptuous denial of any knowledge of such a person as M. de Jennico. -When I wrote to her, her whom I believed to bear your name, a pleading, -abject letter, for I was still but a poor loving fool, her only answer -was to have me seized and driven from the country like a criminal. -Later on, when I refused to be a party to her petition for divorce, -she thought, no doubt, she had given me chances enough, and this time -she deputed the noble bully, her cousin, to manage the matter in his -own fashion. My life was attempted five times, Madam. And when it all -failed,—your Prince Eugen, you tell me, he was in England, and there -was a certain great bulky Chevalier de Ville-Rouge, who particularly -sought my acquaintance—’tis he, is it not?—your Prince Eugen honoured -me by seeking a duello, and by running his august sword through my -common body, and that more often, be it said, than custom sanctions in -honourable encounters. I was given for dead. No wonder! It seems to be -the sport of hell to keep me alive. I can scarce think it is the will -of Heaven.” - -Madam Lothner had followed my tirade with what appeared the most -conflicting sentiments: blank astonishment, horror, indignation. It was -the last, however, that predominated. Her countenance became suffused -with crimson; her blue eyes flashed a fire I had not deemed them -capable of harbouring; she forgot the precautions she herself had so -strenuously enjoined. - -“And do you dare, sir,” cried she, “accuse my mistress of these -things—you, whom she loved? You knew her as your wife for four weeks, -and yet you know her so little as to believe her plotting your death! -Those letters, sir, you speak of, she never received, nor did I, nor -did she nor I ever hear of your presence in this land. ’Tis true -that after you had left,—for _you_ left her first, remember,—after -well-nigh a year without tidings of you, she did herself send to you -to request the annulment of the marriage. It was _to free you_ because -she believed you repented of it, and she felt she had entrapped you -into it. And when, sir, you refused, she had hope again in her heart, -for she loved you. And she suffered persecution on your account, and -was kept and watched like a state prisoner—she that had always lived -for the free air, and for her own way. They were cruel to her, and -put dreadful pressure upon her that she should make her appeal alone -to the Pope. But she held firm, and bore it all in silence, and lived -surrounded by spies, her old friends and old servants banished from her -sight, until the news came that you were dead. Then ... ah, then, she -mourned as never a woman mourned yet for her first and only love! As -to marriage—what dreadful things have you been saying? Her Highness -will never marry again. She will be faithful as long as she lives to -you, whom she believes dead. And God forbid it should be otherwise, -for Prince Eugen would wed her from no love, I believe, but solely to -punish her for resisting him so long, to break her to his will at last, -and triumph over her. Oh, no, she would never wed again! You must -believe me, for I have been with her through it all, and though she -would mock me and laugh at me once, she turned to me afterwards as to -her only friend——Get up, M. de Jennico, get up! Ach Gott! what a coil -this is! My good sir, get up; think if the doctor were to come in! Ach -Gott! what is that you say? Nay, I have been a fool, and this is the -worst of all. My poor friend, there is no room for happiness here!” - -For I had fallen at her feet again, and was covering her hand with -kisses, blessing her with tears, I believe, for the happiness of this -moment. - -She ended, good soul, by weeping with me, or rather, over the pity of -the joy that was doomed, as she thought, to such brief duration. - -“Oh, you are mad, you are mad!” she said, as I poured forth I know -not what extravagant plans. Ottilie loved me, cried I in the depths -of my exultant soul: what could be difficult now? “You are mad! Have -you not yet learned your lesson? Do you not understand that they will -never, _never_ let you have her? Go back to your home, sir, and if you -love her never let her know you are still alive, for if they heard it -here, God knows what she would be put to bear; and if she knew they had -tried to murder you, it would kill her. I tell you, sir, a Court is a -dreadful place, and Prince Eugen, you know what he is, and his Serene -Highness himself, he is hard as the stones of the street. You have seen -what they have done—no law can reach them! They will not fail again. -And if a second scandal——” she paused, hesitated, shuddered, then -bending over to me she whispered, half inarticulately, “if a second -scandal came to pass, who knows what forfeit she might not have to pay!” - -But I rose, clasped her two hands, and looked into her eyes with all -the bold joy that filled my heart. - -“My kind friend,” I said, “you cannot frighten me now. Keep you but our -secret, and you will yet see your mistress happy.” I wrung her hands, -and hurried to the door, as eager now to be gone as I had been to -enter. I must act, and act at once, and there was much to do. - -She followed me, lamenting and entreating, to the steps, where stood -faithful Trude, with garments blown about in the cold wind. But, as I -turned to take a last farewell, my hostess caught me by the sleeve. - -“Keep close,” she said, “keep close; and if you are hurt, if you are -ill——” she hesitated a second, then leaned forward and breathed into -my ear, “do not send for the Court doctor.” - - - - -CHAPTER IV - - -I RUSHED out into the street, treading as if on air, my cloak floating -behind me, my head thrown back, all warnings unheeded in the first -overpowering tide of this joy which had come upon me at the darkest -hour of all. - -I had told myself that I must act, and act at once. But till I had had -a moment’s breathing time to realise the extraordinary revelations by -which the whole face of the past and of the future was changed to me, I -could form no coherent thought, much less could I form plans. - -I wanted space for this—space and solitude. And so I hurried along as -I have described, looking neither to the right nor to the left, when I -was seized upon from behind, and by no means gentle hands brought me -first to a standstill, and next threw the folds of my cloak around me -in such a fashion as once more to cover my face. - -“Are you mad?” said János, with a fiercer display of anger than I had -ever known him show to me, though he had marshalled me pretty rigidly -through my illness. “I have been following you these five minutes, -and all the town stares at your honour. ’Tis lucky you took a side -turning just now or you would have been straight into the great place, -perhaps into the main guard. If you want to look for death, you can go -to the wars like my old master, but ’tis an ill thing to find it in the -assassin’s blade, as I thought you had learned by now. Do you forget,” -continued János, scolding more vehemently, “that they are all leagued -against you in this country? Do you forget how they packed you out of -the land last year, and warned you never to return? ’Tis very well to -risk one’s life, but ’tis ill to throw it away.” - -“Oh, János, true soul,” said I, as soon as I could get air to speak -with, for his grasp upon the folds of my cloak was like an iron clamp, -“all is changed, all is explained. You saw me last the most miserable -of men: you see me now the happiest!” - -We had paused in a deserted alley leading into the gardens on the -ramparts. As I looked round I saw that the sky had grown darkly -overcast, and by János’s pinched face, as well as by the bowing and -bending of the trees, that the wind had risen strong and cold. To me it -might have been the softest breeze of spring. I drew the man over to a -bench all frosted already by tiny flakes which fell persistently, yet -sparsely, and there I told him my tale of joy. He listened, blinking -and grinning. At length when it was duly borne in upon him that the -wife I was seeking was really and actually the Princess of the land, he -clasped his hands and cried with a certain savage enthusiasm: - -“Oh, that my old master had lived to see the day!” But the next instant -the bristling difficulties of the situation began to oppress his aged -heart. He pondered with a falling face. - -“Then your honour is in even greater danger than I had thought,” said -he, “and every second he passes in this town of cut-throats adds to the -risk.” - -“Even so,” said I, clapping him on the shoulders, my spirits rising -higher, it seemed, with every fresh attempt to depress them,—“Even so, -my good fellow; and therefore since my wife I mean to have, and since I -mean to live to be happy with her, what say you to our carrying her off -this very night?” - -He made no outcry: he knew the breed (he himself had said it) too well. -As you may see a dog watch his master’s signal to dash after the prey, -wagging his tail faintly the while, so the fellow turned and fixed me. - -“And how will your honour do it?” said he without a protest. - -“How?” said I, and laughed aloud; “by my soul I know not! I know -nothing yet, but we will home to the inn and deliberate. There is -nought so difficult but love will find the way, and Romeos will scale -walls to reach their Juliets so long as this old world lasts.” - -I rose as I spoke, and so did János, shaking the snow from his bent -shoulders. - -“I know nothing of the gentlemen your honour speaks of, nor of the -ladies, but my old master, your honour’s uncle, did things in his -days.... God forgive me that I should remember them against a holy -soul in heaven! There was a time when he kept a whole siege (it was -before Reichenberg in ’59)—a whole siege waiting, ordered a cessation -of fire for a night, that he might visit some lady in the town. He was -the general of the besieging army, and he could order as he pleased. -By Saint Stephen, he got into the town somehow ... and I with him ... -and next morning we got out again! No one knew where we had been but -himself, and myself, and herself—he, he!—and before midday we had -that town.” - -“Fie, fie, János,” said I, “these are sad tales of a field-marshal; let -us hope my good aunt never heard them.” - -“Her Excellency,” said János, and crossed himself, “would have gloried -in the deed. But, your honour, we have the heavens against us to-night; -I have not seen a sky look blacker, even in England, since the great -storm at Tollendhal.... Ah, your honour remembers when.” - -“All the better,” said I, as we turned the corner; “a stormy night is -the best of nights for a bold deed.” - -And I thought within myself: “I lost her in the storm; in the storm -shall I find her again.” Thus does a glad heart frame his own omen. - -It was all very fine to talk of carrying off my wife in such fashion; -but when, seated together near the fire in my room, talking in whispers -so that not even the great stove door could catch the meaning of our -conclave, János and I discussed our plans, we found that everything -fell before the insuperable difficulty of our ignorance of the -topography of the palace. There seemed nothing for it but to endeavour -to interview Anna once more, dangerous as the process might be. And we -were already discussing in what character János should present himself, -when Fortune—that jade that had long turned so cold a shoulder upon -me—came to the rescue in the person of the good woman herself. There -was a hard knock at the door, which made us both, conspirators as we -were, jump apart, and I involuntarily felt for the pistol in my coat -skirts, whilst János stalked to open. - -And there stood the lank black figure which had once seemed to cast a -sort of shadow on my young delight, but which now I greeted as that of -an angel of deliverance. She loved her mistress, her mistress loved -me—what could she do me then but good? - -I sprang forward and drew her in by both hands. She threw back the -folds of her hood and looked round upon us, and her grim anxious -countenance relaxed into something like a smile. Then she dropped me a -stiff curtsey, and coming close to my ear: - -“I gave my mistress the gracious master’s letter,” she said, and -paused. I seized upon her hand again. - -“Oh, Anna, dear Anna, how is she? How did she take it? Was she much -concerned? Was she ...” I hesitated, “was she glad to learn I am not -dead?” - -The woman’s eyes looked as if they would fain speak volumes, but her -taciturn tongue gave utterance to few words. - -“My mistress,” she said, “wept much, and thanked God.” That was all, -but I was satisfied. - -“She is in much fear for you,” the messenger went on after a pause. -“She bade me say she dared not write because of the danger to you; she -bade me say that the danger is greater than you know of; that your -enemies are other than you think. Now they believe you dead, but you -may be recognised. And you were out to-day again!” said Anna, suddenly -dropping the sing-song whisper of her recitation and turning upon me -sternly with uplifted finger. “Out, in spite of my warning! I know, for -I came to the inn to find you. All this is foolish.” - -“And this is the end of your message?” said I, who had been drinking -in every word my wife’s sweet lips had so sweetly spoken for me. “Was -there nothing else?” said I again, for my soul hungered for a further -sign of love. - -“There was one thing more,” said Anna in her stolid way: “she bade me -say she would contrive to see you somehow soon, but that as you love -her you must keep hidden.” - -I shut my eyes for a second to taste in the secret of my heart the -honeyed savour of that little phrase that meant so much: “_as you love -me!_” for there rang the unmistakable appeal of love to love! And I -smiled to think that she still reserved the telling of her secret. I -guessed it was because she was pleased that I should want her for -herself, and not for the vain pride that had been our undoing. - -And then, with my bold resolve a thousandfold strengthened, I caught -Anna by the arm. - -“Now listen,” said I, and stooped to bring my lips to her ear. “When -I went out this afternoon it was to good purpose. I have seen Frau -Lothner.... I know all.” - -“Lord God!” cried Anna, and snatched her hand from mine and threw her -arms to heaven, her long brown face overspread with pallor; “and she -has seen you, has recognised you—the Court doctor’s wife! Then God -help us all! If the secret is not out to-day it will be to-morrow. -Oh, my poor child, my poor child!” She rocked herself to and fro in a -paroxysm of indignant grief. - -“But,” said I, trying to soothe her that she might listen to my -plan, “Madam Lothner is an old friend of mine, she is devoted to the -Princess, she has a kind heart, she has promised me discretion.” - -“She!” said Anna, and paused to throw me a look of unutterable scorn. -“She, the sheep-head! in the hands of such an one as the Court doctor! -My lord, I give you but to midnight to escape! for as it happens—and -God is merciful that it happens so—the Margrave has sent for the -doctor at his camp of Liegnitz, and he will not return until after -supper.” - -“So be it,” said I gaily; “escape I shall, Anna, but not alone.” - -The woman’s sallow face grew paler yet. The depth of the love for the -child she had nursed at her breast gave her perspicacity. Her eye -sought mine with fearful anticipation. - -I drew her to the furthest end of the room and rapidly expounded my -project, which developed itself in my mind even as I spoke. Outside -the snow was falling fast. All good citizens were within doors; there -was as yet no suspicion of my presence in the town; the palace was -quiet and my bitterest enemy was absent; to delay would be to lose -our only chance. The passion of my arguments, none the less forcible, -perhaps, because of the stress of circumstances which kept my voice at -whisper pitch, bore down Anna’s protests, her peasant’s fears. I had, -I believe, a powerful auxiliary in the woman’s knowledge of all that -her beloved mistress might be made to suffer upon the discovery of my -reappearance. She felt the convincing truth of my statement, that if -the attempt was to be made at all it must be made this very night, and -she saw too that I said true when I told her I would only give up such -attempt with my life. - -Moreover (joy as yet hardly realised!) she knew that my wife’s -happiness lay in me alone; and so she agreed, with unexpected -heartiness, to every detail of my scheme. - -She was to meet me at the end of the palace garden lane before the -stroke of eight, two hours hence, and admit me through a side postern -into the garden itself. We were obliged to fix so early an hour to -avoid the necessity of running twice past sentries, who, it seemed, -were doubled around the palace after eight o’clock. The Princess’s -apartments were upon the first floor on the garden side, and from the -terrace below it was quite possible, it appeared, for an active man -to climb up to her balcony. I would bring a rope-ladder—János should -make it, for he had no doubt some knowledge of that scaling implement. -As soon as she had shown me the way, Anna was to endeavour to prepare -her mistress for my coming. János in his turn was to be waiting with -my carriage and post-horses as near the garden gate as he dared. The -Princess, the nurse told me, was wont to retire about nine, it might be -a little earlier or later, and liked then to be left in solitude, Anna -herself being the only person admitted to her chamber. - -Among the many risks there was one inevitable, the danger of being -discovered by my wife lurking on her balcony before Anna had had time -to carry her message: for it was impossible, the woman warned me, that -she should now see her mistress before the latter descended to meet -the Duke at supper. I was, however, gaily prepared to face this risk, -and even, foolhardy as it may seem, desired in my inmost soul that -there should be no intermediary on this occasion, and that my lips -only should woo her back to me; that this first meeting after our hard -parting should be sacred to ourselves alone. - -I reckoned besides upon the fact that since Ottilie knew I was in the -town, she would not be surprised at my boldness, however desperate; -that she would ascertain with her own eyes who it was who dared climb -so high, before she called for help. - -At length, when everything was clear,—and the woman showed after all a -wonderful mother wit,—Anna departed in the storm, and I and János were -left to our own plans and preparations. As for me, my heart had never -ridden so high; never for a second did I pause or hesitate. In a few -minutes we had devised half a dozen alternate schemes of flight, all -equally good—all equally precarious. - -“Will your honour leave it to me,” said the old campaigner at last, -as he sat beginning to plait and knot various lengths of our luggage -ropes into an escape ladder,—“the settlement of the inn account, the -post-horses, and the choice of the road?” - -With this I was content. - -The wind had abated a little, but the snow was still falling steadily -when I set forth at length. The streets were, as I expected, very -empty, and the few wayfarers whom I chanced to meet were so enveloped -and so plastered with white, the chief thought of every one was so -obviously how best to keep himself warm, how soonest to get within -shelter, that I hugged myself again upon my luck. There was a glow -within me which defied the elements. - -At the corner of the garden lane, at the appointed place, even as the -tower clock began the quarter chimes, I saw a woman’s figure rapidly -approaching the trysting spot from the opposite direction. I hesitated -for a moment, uncertain as to its identity, but it made straight for -me, and I saw it was Anna. As we turned into the lane itself she -suddenly whispered: - -“Put your arm round my waist,” and the next instant, from the very -midst of my amazement, I realised her meaning: we had to pass close by -a sentry-box. Woman’s wits are ever sharper than man’s. The sentry was -stamping to and fro, beating his breast with his disengaged hand, but -ceased his bear dance to stare at us, as we came within the light of -the postern lamp, and launched at the dim couple so lovingly embraced -some rude witticism in his peasant tongue, accompanied by a grunt of -good-natured laughter. My supposed sweetheart pulled her hood further -over her face, answered back tartly with a couple of words in the -country dialect; and, followed by an ironical blessing from the churl, -we were free to pursue our way unchallenged. - -This was the only obstacle we encountered; the lane was quite deserted. -We stopped before a little postern door half buried in ivy, which Anna, -producing a key from her pocket, unlocked after some difficulty. At -last it rolled back on its rusty hinges with what sounded in my ears -as an exultant creak. An ancient bird’s nest fell upon my head as we -passed through into the garden. Anna carefully pushed the door to once -more, but without locking it, and we hastened towards the distant -gleaming front of the palace, stumbling as we went, for the soft snow -concealed the irregularities of the path. Without hesitation, however, -my guide led me between two fantastically carved hedges of box and yew -till we came to a statue, rearing a blurred outline, ghostly white in -the faint snowlight. Here she stood still and pointing to the south -wing: - -“There,” she said, while all the blood in my body leaped, “there are my -mistress’s apartments; see you those three windows above the terrace? -The middle window with the balcony is that of her Highness’s bedroom. -You cannot mistake it. The ivy is as thick as a man’s arm, and you may -climb by it in safety. Now that I have done what you bade me I will go -to the palace. God see us through this mad night’s work!” - -With these words she left me. I ventured to the foot of the terrace -wall, and creeping alongside soon found the terrace steps, which I -ascended with a tread as noiseless as the fall of the thick snowflakes -all around me. I stood under her balcony. I groped for the ivy-stems, -and found them indeed as thick as cables. It was a plant of centenarian -growth, and it clasped the old palace walls with a hundred arms, as -close as welded iron: as strong and commodious a ladder as my purpose -required. I swung myself up (I tremble now to think how recklessly, -when one false step might have ended the life that had grown so dear), -and next I found myself upon the balcony—Ottilie’s balcony!—and -through the parted curtains could peer into her lighted room. - -Then for the first time I paused, hesitating to pry upon her retirement -like a thief in the night. For a moment I knelt upon the snow and cried -in my heart for pardon to her. Then, drawing cautiously aside from the -shaft of light, I looked in. It was a large lofty apartment with much -gilding, tarnished it seemed by time, and with faded paintings and -medallions on the walls. In an alcove curtained off I divined in the -shadow a great carved bed, whose gilt curves caught now and again a -gleam of ruby light from the open door of an immense rose china stove. -My eyes lingered tenderly over every detail of the sanctuary sacred to -my lady. Outside upon the balcony, all in the darkness, the cold, and -the snow, my whole being began to swim in a dreamy warmth of love. It -is like enough that had not something come to rouse me, I might have -been found next morning, stiff, frozen upon my perch, with a smile -upon my lips—a very sweet and easy death! But from this dangerous -dreaminess I was presently aroused to vivid watchfulness and energy. -My wandering gaze had been for a little while uncomprehendingly fixed -upon a shining wing of flowered satin stuff that trailed on one side of -a great armchair, the back of which was turned towards me. This wing -of brocade caught the full illumination of the candles on the wall and -showed hues of pink and green as dainty as the monthly roses in the -garden of my old home in England. Now as I gazed the roses began to -move as if a breeze had shaken them, and lo! the next moment, a little -hand as white as milk fluttered down like a dove upon them and drew -them out of sight. For a second my heart stood still, and then beat -against my breast like a frantic wild thing of the woods against the -bars of its cage. She was there, there already, my beloved! What kept -me from breaking in upon her, I cannot say—a sort of fear of looking -upon her face again in the midst of my great longing—or maybe my good -angel! Anyhow I paused, and pausing was saved. For in a second more -a door opposite to me opened, and an elderly lady, followed by two -servants carrying a table spread for a repast, entered the room. The -lady came towards the armchair and curtsied. I saw her lips move and -caught the murmur of her voice, and listened next in vain for the music -of those tones for which my ear had hungered so many days and nights. - -I saw the white hand cleave the air again as if with an impatient -gesture. The lady curtsied, the lackeys deposited the table near the -chair, and all three withdrew. - -I had trusted to fate to be kind to me this night, but I had not dared -expect from fate more than neutrality; and now it was clear that it was -taking sides for me, and that my wife had been strangely well inspired -to sup in her chamber alone, instead of in public with her father, as I -had been told was her wont. - -No sooner had the attendants retired than I beheld her light figure -spring up with the old bounding impetuosity I had loved and laughed -at, fling herself against the door, and I heard the snap of the key. -Now was my opportunity! And yet again I hesitated and watched. My face -was pressed against the glass in the full glare of the light, without -a thought of caution, forgetting that, were she to look up and see me, -the woman alone might well scream at the wild, eager face watching her -with burning eyes from out of the black night. But she did not look up. - -Wheeling round at the door itself as if she could not even wait to -get back to her chair, Ottilie—my Ottilie—drew from beneath the -lace folds that crossed upon her young bosom a folded letter, which I -recognized, by the coarse grey paper, as that which my own hand had -scored in the little provision shop a few hours ago. - -An extraordinary mixture of emotions seized upon my soul: a sort -of shame of myself again for spying upon her private life, and an -unutterable rapture. I could have knelt once more in the snow as before -a sacred shrine, and I could have broken down a fortress to get to her. -From the very strength of the conflict I was motionless, with all my -life still in my eyes. - -When she had finished reading she lifted her face for a moment, and -then for the first time I saw it. Oh, dear face, paled with many tears -and dark thoughts, but beautiful, beyond even my heated fancy, with a -new beauty, rarer and more exquisite than it is given me to describe! -The same, yet not the same! The wife I had left had been a wilful and -wayward child, a mocking sprite—the wife I here found again was a -gracious, a ripe and tender woman, upon whose lips and eyes sat the -seal of a noble, sorrowful endurance. - -She lifted the letter to her lips and kissed it, looked up again, -and then our eyes met! Then I hardly remember what I did. I was -unconscious of any deliberate thought; I only knew that there was my -wife, and that not another second should pass before I had her in my -arms. - -I suppose I must have hurled myself against the casement; the lock -yielded, and the window flew open. Enveloped in a whirl of floating -snow I leaped into the warm room. With dilated, fixed eyes, with parted -lips, she stood, terror-stricken, at first, yet erect and undaunted. -I had counted all along on her courage, and it did not fail me! But -before I had even time to speak, such a change came over her as is like -the first upspring of sunlight upon the colourless world of dawn. As -you may see a wave gather itself aloft to break upon the shore, so she -drew herself up and flung herself, melting into tears, body and soul, -as it were, upon my heart. And the next moment her lips sought mine. - -Never before had she so come to me—never before had life held for me -such a moment! Oh, my God! it was worth the suffering! - - - - -CHAPTER V - - -A KNOCK without aroused us. With a stifled cry of alarm, the woman -who had made no sound on the violent entry of an armed man upon her -unprotected solitude, now fell into deadly anguish. She sprang to the -door, and I could see the lace on her bosom flutter with the fear of -her heart as she bent her ear to listen. The knock was repeated. - -“Who is it?” cried Ottilie, in a strangled voice. “I had said I would -be alone.” - -“‘Tis I, child,” came the answer in the well-known deep note; “it is -Anna, alone.” - -I thrust my sword back into its scabbard; my wife drew a long breath of -relief, and glanced at me with her hand pressed to her heart. - -“Anna, thank God! We can admit her: Anna is safe,” she said, and turned -the key. - -Anna opened the door, stood an instant on the threshold, contemplating -us in silence; a faint smile hovered about her hard mouth. Then, -without wasting words on futile warnings, she made fast the lock, -deposited on the floor a dark lantern she had concealed under her -apron, walked to the window, which she closed as best she could, and -drew the curtains securely. Indeed, her precaution was not idle: -through the silence of the outside world of night, muffled by the snow, -but yet unmistakable, the tread of the first patrolling round now grew -even more distinctly upon our ear, passed under the terrace, emphasised -by an occasional click of steel, and died away round the corner. With -the vanishing sound melted the new anxiety which had clutched me, and -I blessed the falling snow which must have hidden again, as soon as -registered, the tell-tale traces of my footsteps below. - -Anna had listened with frowning brow; when all was still once more, -she turned to the Princess, and briefly, but in that softened voice I -remembered of old: - -“I have told your ladies that you had bidden me attend to you this -night, and that you must not be disturbed in the morning,” and then -turned to me: “All is ready, sir; we have till noon before being -discovered. And now, child,” she continued, as Ottilie, still closely -clinging to my side, looked up inquiringly, “no time to lose; there is -death in this for thy gracious lord, if not for us all as well.” - -“What does she mean?” asked Ottilie, and seemed brought from a far -sphere of bliss face to face with cold reality. “Oh, Basil, Basil, to -leave me again!” - -“Leave you! I will never leave you,” cried I, touched to the quick at -the change which had come upon the proud spirit of my beloved; “but if -you will not come with me, with your husband, if you fear the perils -of flight, the hardships of the road, or even,” said I, though it was -only to try her and taste once again the exquisite joy of loving, -humble words from her lips, “if you cannot make up your mind to give up -your high state here, to live as the wife of a simple gentleman, I am -content to die at your side. But leave you, never again! Ah! my God, -once was too much.” - -She looked at me for a second with tender reproach in her tear-dimmed -eyes and upon her trembling lips; then she answered with a simplicity -that rebuked my mock humility: - -“I am content to go with you, Basil, were it to the end of the world.” - -At this I could not, in spite of Anna’s presence, but take her to my -heart again, and the nurse, after watching us with a curious look of -mingled pleasure and jealousy in her hollow eyes, suddenly and somewhat -harshly bade us remember once more that time was short. - -“You,” she went on to her lady, peremptorily, as if conscious of being -herself the true mistress of the situation, “drink you of that broth -and break some bread, and drink of that wine, for you have not eaten -to-day. And you,” she added, turning to me, “make ready with your -ladder.” - -Impatiently and sternly she stood by us until we prepared to obey her -orders. - -We owe a very great debt of gratitude to this woman! - -My wife sat down like a child, watching me, sweet heart! over every -mouthful of soup as one who fears the vision may fade. As for me, -appreciating all the importance of immediate action, I threw from -me the perilous temptation of letting myself go to the delight of -the moment—a delight enhanced, perhaps, by the very knowledge of -environing danger. Opening my cloak, I unwound the length of rope from -my waist, cautiously slipped out again on the balcony and fastened one -end to the iron rail. Remembering the precious burden it was to bear, I -could not be satisfied without testing every knot, and finally trying -its strength with my own weight by descending to the terrace. It worked -satisfactorily, and the distance, fortunately, was not excessive. Then -leaving it dangling, in three leaps I was up again and once more in -the warm room, just in time to see an exquisite gleam of silk stocking -disappear into the depths of the fur boot which Anna was fastening with -all the dexterity of a nurse dressing a child. - -And, indeed, my sweet love submitted to be turned and bustled and -manipulated with an uncomplaining docility as if she was again back in -her babyhood—although in truth I have reason to believe, from what I -know of her and have heard since, that not even then had she ever been -remarkable for docility. - -Grimly smiling, Anna completed her labour by submerging the dainty head -in a deep hood; the sable-lined cloak and the muff she handed over to -me with the abrupt command: “Throw them out! Auswerfen!” Anna should -have been a grenadier sergeant; nevertheless, the thought was good, and -I promptly obeyed. Next she gave me the lantern—she had thought of -everything!—and commenced extinguishing the lights in the room. I took -Ottilie by the hand, the little warm hand, ungloved, that it might the -tighter feel the rope. - -“Will you trust yourself, love?” said I. She gave me no answer but a -shaft of one of her old fearless looks and yielded her waist to my -arm, and thus we stepped forth into the snow and the night. I guided -her to the rope and showed her where to hold, and where to place her -feet, and then, climbing over the balcony, supporting myself by the -projecting stones and the knotted ivy, I was able to guide the slender -body down each swinging rung: for when the blood is hot and the heart -on fire one can do things that would otherwise appear well-nigh -impossible. - -Safely we reached the ground. I enveloped her in the cloak which Anna’s -forethought had provided, and after granting myself the luxury of -another embrace I was preparing to ascend the blessed rope again for -the purpose of assisting Anna, when I discovered that incomparable -woman solidly and stolidly planted by our side in the snow. - -“All is right, gracious sir,” she said in a hoarse whisper; “but it -would be as well to take away that rope, since you can go up and down -so easily without it.” - -Recognising in an instant the wisdom of the suggestion—it was well -some one had a waking brain that night!—I clambered up once more, and -in a few seconds had flung down the tell-tale ladder, and descended -again. - -Anna took up the lantern, which she hid under her cloak, and, all -three clinging together, we hastened to the postern as noiselessly as -shadows. The snow fell, but the wind had all subsided, and the air was -now so still that the cold struck no chill. - -Outside the postern, seeing no one in sight, we paused. - -“I have told János to be at the bottom of the lane,” said I to Anna, as -she pocketed the key after turning the lock. And then to my wife, who -hung close and silent to my arm: “It is but a little way, and then you -shall rest.” - -Even as I spoke I turned to lead her, but Anna arrested me: - -“I have thought better,” she said. “To leave the town in a carriage is -dangerous. I have arranged otherwise.” - -I was about, I believe, to protest, or at least discuss, when Ottilie, -who had hitherto permitted herself to be led whither I would, like one -in a dream, suddenly cried to me in an urgent undertone to let Anna -have her way: “Believe me,” she said, “you will not repent it.” I would -have gone anywhere at the command of that voice. - -“It shall be so,” said I; “but there is János, and we cannot leave him -in the lurch.” - -“No, we must have János with us,” said Anna; “but that is easy. Follow -me, children.” And uncovering her lantern, with her skirts well kilted -up, she preceded us with fearless strides to the secluded turn at the -bottom of the lane, where, true to his promise, I found the heiduck and -his conveyance. - -For the greater security the lamps of the carriage had not been lit, -but we could see its bulk rise in denser black against the gloom -before us, and feel the warmth of the horses steam out upon us, with a -pleasant stable odour, into the purity of the air. - -There was a rapid colloquy between our two old servants. János, the -cunning fox! at once and appreciatively agreed to Anna’s superior plan -of action, and indeed his old campaigner’s wits promptly went one -better than the peasant’s shrewdness: instead of merely dismissing the -carriage as she suggested, he bade the coachman drive out by the East -Gate of the town and, halting at Gleiwitz, await at the main hostelry -there the party that would come on the morrow. And in the dark I could -see him emphasise the order by the transfer of some pieces, that -clicked knowingly in the night silence. The point of the manœuvre, -however, was only manifest to me when, turning to follow Anna’s lead -again down a side alley, the fellow breathed into my ear with a -chuckle: - -“While your honour was away I took upon myself to despatch his carriage -with our luggage, to meet us, I said, at Dresden. That will be two -false scents for them—and we, it seems, take the south road to Prague! -We shall puzzle Budissin yet.” - -On we tramped through the deserted bye-streets. It was only when we -were stopped at last, in that self-same poor little mean lane, before -the self-same poor little mean shop, faintly lit inside by a dull -oil lamp, that I recognised the scene of my morning’s interview with -Anna—that interview which seemed already to have passed into the far -regions of my memory, so much had I lived through since. - -We met but few folk upon our way, who paid little attention to us. As -we entered into the evil-smelling room, stepping down into it from -the street, and as Anna shot back the slide of the lantern and turned -upon us a triumphant smiling face, I felt that our chief peril was -over. The shop was empty, but she was not disposed to allow us even a -little halt: she marshalled us through the dank narrow passages with -which I had already made acquaintance, across the courtyard into the -back street. There stood a country waggon with a leathern tent. By the -flash of the lantern I saw that to it were harnessed a pair of great -raw-boned chestnuts that hung their heads patiently beneath the snow, -yet seemed to have known better service in their days—no doubt at one -time had felt the trooper’s spurs. - -Beside them stood a squat man, enveloped to the ears in sheepskin, with -a limp felt hat drawn over his brow till only some three-quarters of a -shrewd, empurpled, not unkindly visage was left visible. The waggoner -was evidently expecting us, for he came forward, withdrew his pipe, -touched his hat, and made a leg. - -“My cousin,” said Anna to us, and added briefly and significantly: “He -asks no questions.” - -Then in a severe tone of command she proceeded to address several to -him. Had he placed fresh hay in the waggon according to her orders? Had -he received from her sister the ham, and the wine and the blankets? Had -the horses been well fed? On receiving affirmative grunts in answer, -she bade him then immediately produce the chair, that the lady and the -gentleman might get in. - -Between the closed borders of her hood I caught a glimpse of Ottilie’s -faint smile, as lighted by the lantern rays she mounted upon the -wooden stool and disappeared into the dark recesses of the waggon, -stirring up a warm dust as she went, and a far-away fragrance of hay -and faded clover. - -“Now you, sir,” said Anna, and jogged my elbow. - -I believe at that moment we were to her but a pair of babes and -nurslings for whom she was responsible, and that she would have as -readily combed our hair and washed our faces as if we were still of a -size to be lifted on her knee. - -I obeyed. And truly, as I crawled forward in the dark, amid the warm -straw, groping my way to the further end till I laid my hand on -Ottilie’s soft young arm extended towards me, when I heard her laugh -a little laugh to herself as we snuggled in the nest together, I felt -a happiness that was like that of a child, all innocent of past and -improvident of future. Nevertheless at one and the same time my whole -being was stirred to its depths with a tenderness my manhood had not -yet known. - -In those foolish bygone days I had loved her, the sweet soul, with the -unworthy, mad passion of a lover for his mistress. When she left me I -had mourned her as a man mourns for his wife, flesh of his flesh, bone -of his bone. Now, however, we seemed to be lad and maid together; -our love, after all the sorrow and the agony we had passed through, -seemed to wear the unspeakable freshness of a first courtship. It -was written that good measure was to be paid me to compensate for -past anguish—good measure, heaped up, flowing over! I took it with a -thankful heart. - -The cart swayed and creaked as János and Anna mounted and settled -themselves at our feet, drawing the hay high over themselves. Then came -another creaking and swaying in the forward end, we heard a jingle of -bells, a crack of the whip and a hoarse shout: the cart groaned and -strained to the effort of the horses, then yielded. And at a grave pace -we rumbled over the cobble-stones, turning hither and thither through -street after street which we could not see. And in the midst of our hay -we felt a sense of comfortable irresponsibility and delicious mystery. -All in the inner darkness we were dimly conscious of the snowy pageant -outside: the ghost-like houses and the twinkling lights. Ottilie lay -against my shoulder, and I felt her light breath upon my cheek. - -After a while—it would be hard to say how long—there was a halt; -there came a shout from our driver, and an answering shout beyond. I -knew we had come to the Town Gates. That was a palpitating moment of -anxiety as the two voices exchanged parley, which the heavy beating -of the pulses in my ears would not allow me to follow. Next the rough -cadence of a jovial laugh fell loud upon the air, and then—sweeter -music I have seldom heard!—the clank of the gate’s bar. Once more we -felt ourselves rumbling on slowly till we had passed the bridge and -exchanged the cobbles of the town for the surface of the great Imperial -road, more lenient for all its ruts. The cousin cracked his whip again -and bellowed to his cattle; after infinite persuasion they broke into a -heavy jog-trot. - -“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost,” -said Anna suddenly from her dark corner, in a loud vibrating voice, -“give thanks to God, you children!” She leant forward as she spoke, and -pulled aside the leathern curtains that hung across the back of the -cart. - -With the rush of snowy air came to us framed by the aperture a -retreating vision of Budissin, studded here and there with rare gleams -of light. - -Thus did my wife, the young Princess of Lusatia, leave her father’s -dominions, her prospects of a throne, for the love of a simple English -gentleman! - - - - -CHAPTER VI - - -I SHALL carry to the grave, as one of the sweetest of my life, the -memory of that night journey. Coming as it did between the fierce -emotions and dangers of our meeting and flight, and the perilous and -furious episode that yet awaited us, it seems doubly impregnated with -an exquisite serenity of happiness. Full of brief moments, that brought -me then a poignant joy, it brings to my heart as I look back on it now -a tenderness as of smiles and tears together. - -After a little while the flakes had ceased falling, and, in the faint -snowlight, beneath a clear sky, we gazed forth together from our -ambulant nest, here upon mysterious stretches of plain-land, there upon -ghosts of serried trees, trees that marched as it were past us back -towards Budissin. I remember how in a clear space of sky a star shone -out upon us at last, and how it seemed a good omen, and how we kissed -in the darkness. - -Then there was our meal, with Anna’s lantern to illumine the feast. I -was so lost in watching my beloved bite her black bread contentedly -with small white teeth, and toast me with loving eyes over the thin -wine, that I could scarce fall to, myself. Yet when I did so it was -with right good appetite, for I was hungered, and I never tasted better -fare. - -Then János got out of the waggon to sit in front by the driver and -smoke. My great-uncle had been such a confirmed tobacco-man that János -had acquired the habit in attendance upon him, and it did not behove me -to interfere with an indulgence fostered by thirty years’ service. - -Anyhow, on that night the stray whiffs of his strong tobacco mingled -not unpleasantly with the keen cold scents of the night; and the sound -of the two men’s talk, with the monotonous jingle and rumble of harness -and cart, made a comfortable human accompaniment to our passage in the -midst of the great silence. Anna went to sleep and snored after her -good day’s work, waking now and again with a start and a groan, and -thence to oblivion once more. And then we too, oblivious of the world, -fell into a long dream, hand in hand—a great wide-eyed dream filling -our silence with soaring music, our darkness with all the warm colour -of life. - -And thus we reached the first halting-place in the itinerary planned -by János and myself on the Imperial Chaussée. The place whence we -would best defy our enemies, and therefore our ultimate destination, -was of course my own Castle of Tollendhal, recent experience having -sufficiently demonstrated that in England we should be ill-protected -from the machinations of Budissin. This first stage was Löbau. - -Never did town look so thoroughly asleep under its snow-laden eaves, -behind its black shutters, thought I, as our tired horses, steaming and -stumbling, dragged our cart up the main street. - -A watchman had just sung out his cry: “The twelfth hour of the night, -and a clear heaven,” when we turned into the market-place, from the -middle of which he chanted his informing ditty to those Löbauers who -might chance to be awake to hear and thereby be comforted. - -Spear in one hand and lantern in the other, the fellow approached -to inquire into such an unusual event as the passage of midnight -travellers. We heard János, in brief tones, tell a plausible tale of -his lordship’s travelling coach having broken down (on its way from -Görlitz, said he, who never missed a chance of falsifying a scent!), -and of his lordship, who happened to be in a special haste to proceed, -having availed himself of a passing country cart to pursue his journey -to the next posting town, and so forth, all the main points of this -story being corroborated by an affirmative growl from our Jehu. -Whereupon the watchman, honest fellow, nothing loath doubtless to vary -the perennial monotony of his avocation, undertook to awaken for our -benefit the inmates of the post-house, the best house of entertainment, -he asseverated, in the town. - -It will be long, I take it, before the worthy burghers of Löbau, -and especially mine host of the “Cross Keys,” forget the mysterious -passage at dead of night of the great unknown magnate and his hooded -lady, of the tire-woman with the forbidding countenance, and of the -ugly body-servant, whose combined peremptoriness and lavish generosity -produced such wonders,—even had subsequent events not sufficed to fix -it upon their minds as a tragic epoch in the history of their country. - -A few minutes of obstinate hammering and bell-ringing by János and by -the deeply impressed watchman, awoke the hostelry from the depths of -its slumbers. The bark of dogs responded first to the clangour; lights -appeared at various corners; windows, and then doors, were thrown open. -At last János threw back the leather curtain of our conveyance, and hat -in hand, with his greatest air of bonne maison assisted my lord in his -cloak, my lady in the furs (both much ornamented with wisps of hay), to -alight from their cart. - -My lady, veiled and silent, retired for an hour’s rest, and so away -from the peering curiosity of the assembling servants. And my lord -paced the common-room, feverishly waiting for the coming of the -new conveyance which János, after one of his brief requisitioning -interviews (pandour style), had announced would be forthcoming with -brief delay. - -The common-room was dank and cold enough, but my lord’s soul was in -warm consorting: it was still exalted by the last look that my lady had -thrown back at him, raising her hood for one instant as, ascending the -stairs, she had left him for the first separation. - -In less than an hour the tinkling of collar-bells and the sound of -horses’ hoofs, clattering with a vigour of the best augury, were heard -approaching. Even as János entered to confirm by word the success of -his quest, my beloved appeared with a readiness which to me was sweeter -than any words: she too had been watching the moments which would speed -us onwards together once more. - -Through a pretty concourse of dependants, all of whom had now got wind -of the rain of gratuities with which the great traveller’s servant -eased the wheels of difficulty, we entered our new chariot. I can -hardly mind now what sort of a vehicle this was. I believe in its days -it had been a decent enough travelling chaise: at any rate it moved -fast. Once more we rolled through the silent street, on the hillside -roads, up hill and down dale, my bride warmly nestled in my arms, and -both of us telling over again the tangled tale of the year that had -been wasted for us. - -And thus, in the idle iteration of lovers’ talk, with the framing of -plans for the future, changeable and bright as the clouds of a summer’s -day, did we fill the rapid hours which brought us to Zittau in the -early morning. - -But Zittau was still within the dominions of the eloping Princess’s -father; and at Zittau, therefore, much the same procedure was hastily -adopted as at the previous stage: another hour or so of separation, -another chaise and fresh horses, and once more a flight along the -mountain roads, as the dawn was spreading grey and chill over the first -spurs of the Lusatian hills. - -This time we spoke but little to each other. The fatigue of a great -reaction was upon us. Anna was already snoring in her corner, her head -completely enveloped in her shawl, when, as I gazed down tenderly at -my wife’s face, I saw the sweet lids close in the very middle of a -smile, and the placidity of sleep fall upon her. - -I have had, since the Budissin events, many joys; but there is none the -savour of which dwells with so subtle, so delicate, a perfume in my -memory as that of my drive in the first dawn with my wife asleep in my -arms. - -It was not yet twelve hours since I had found her; and during those -twelve hours I had only seen her in the turmoil of emotion, or under -stress of anxiety, or by some flitting lamplight. Her image dwelt in my -mind as I had first beheld it through the glass of the palace window, -lovely in the first bloom of graceful womanhood, stately amid the -natural surroundings of her rank. Now, wrapped in confident slumber, -swathed in her great robes of fur, the only thing visible of her -young body being the little head resting in the hollow of my arm, the -fair skin flushing faintly in the repose of sleep, fresh even in the -searching cruelty of the growing light, like the petal of a tea rose, -the rhythmic pulse of her bosom faintly beating against my heart, she -was once more, for a little while, to me the Ottilie I had held in my -castle at Tollendhal. And as, for fear of disturbing her, I restrained -my passionate longing to kiss those parted lips, those closed lids -with the soft long eyelashes, I could not tell which I yearned for -most: the Princess, the ripe woman I had found again ... or the wayward -mistress playing at wife I had schooled myself to banish in the wasted -days of my overweening vanity. - -But why thus linger over the first stage of that happy journey? Joy can -only be told by contrast to misery. We can explain sorrow in a hundred -pages, but if delight cannot be told in one, it cannot be told at all. -It is too elusive to be kept within the meshes of many words. Sorrows -we forget,—by a merciful dispensation,—and it may be wholesome to -keep their remembrance in books. Joys ever cling to the phials of -memory like a scent which nought can obliterate. - -And since I have undertaken to record the reconquest of Jennico’s -happiness, there remains yet to tell the manner in which it all but -foundered in the haven. For this heartwhole ecstasy of mine could not -last in its entirety beyond a few brief moments. As I thus grasped -my happiness, with a mind free at last from the confusing vapours of -haste and excitement, even as the fair world around us emerged sharp -and bright from amid the shadows of dawn, all the precariousness of -our situation became likewise defined. Between me and the woman I -loved, though now I held her locked in my arms, arose the everlasting -menace of separation. How long would we be left together? Where could -I fly with her to keep her safe? I hoped that amid the feudal state of -my castle I could defy persecution, but what could such a life be at -best? Thus, in the very first sweetness of our reunion, was felt the -bitterness of that hidden suspense that must eventually poison all. - -Now as I look back, nothing seems more dreamlike than the way in which -my boding thought suddenly assumed the reality of actual event. - -“In a little while” (I was saying to myself, as I watched the shadows -shorten, and the beams of sunlight grow broader upon the snow), “in a -little while the hounds will be started in pursuit, the old persecution -will be resumed, more devilish than ever.” And at the thought, against -my will, a contraction shook the arm on which my love was resting. She -stirred and awoke, at first bewildered, then smiling at me. I let down -the glass of the coach, that the brisk morning air might blow in upon -us and freshen our tired limbs. - -We were then advancing but slowly, being midway up the slope of -a great wide dale; the horses toiled and steamed. And then as we -tasted keenly the vigorous freshness of the morning air, and looked -forth, speechless, upon the beauty of the waking hour of nature—that -incomparable hour so few of us wot of—there came into the great -silence, broken only by the straining of harness and the faint thud of -our horses’ hoofs in the snow, another noise: a curious, faint, little, -far-off noise like to no sound of nature. Ottilie glanced at me, and I -saw the pupil of her eye dilate. She uttered no word, neither did I. -But, all at once, we knew that there was some one galloping behind us. - -I thrust my head out. János was already on the alert: standing with his -back to the horses, leaning upon the top of the coach, he was looking -earnestly down the valley. I can see his face still, all wrinkled and -puckered together in the effort of peering against the first level -rays of the sun. Now, as I leaned out also, and the horse’s gallop -grew nearer and nearer upon my ear, I caught, as I thought, a faint -accompaniment of other hoofs, still more distant. I looked at János, -who brought down his eyes to mine. - -“But three altogether, my lord,” he said. And, reaching as he spoke -for his musketoon, he laid it on top of the coach. “And, thank God,” -he added, “one can see a long way down this slope.” He bade the driver -draw up on one side of the road, and I was able myself to look -straight into the valley. - -A flying figure, that grew every second larger and blacker against -the white expanse beneath us, was rushing up towards us with almost -incredible swiftness. In the absolute stillness of the world locked -in snow, the rhythm of the hoofs, the squelching of the saddle, the -laboured snorting of the over-driven horse, were already audible. -There were not many seconds to spare—and action followed thought as -prompt as flash and sound. There was only time, in fact, to place the -bewildered Anna, just awakened, by my wife’s side at the back of the -coach, to pull up the shutter of both windows, and to leap out. - -I was hatless. I grasped my still sheathed sword in one hand, and with -the other fumbled for my pistols in my coat skirts, whilst with a -thrust of my shoulder I clapped the coach door to. There was not time -even to exchange a word with Ottilie, but her deathly pallor struck me -to the heart and fired me to the most murderous resolve. - -And now all happened quicker than words can follow. No sooner had I -touched the ground, than out of space as it were, roaring and reeking, -hugely black against the sunshine, the horse and his rider were upon -me. I had failed to draw my pistol, but I had shaken the scabbard off -my sword. There seemed scarce a blade’s length between me and the -flying onslaught. Suddenly, however, the great animal swerved upon -one side, and was pulled up, almost crouching on its haunches, by the -force of an iron hand. The rider’s face, outlined against the horse’s -steaming neck, bent towards me: Prince Eugen’s—great indeed would have -been my surprise had it been any other—ensanguined, distorted with -fury, glowing with vindictive triumph, as once before I had seen it -thus thrust into mine. - -“Thou dog, Jennico ... ill-slaughtered interloper ... at last I have -got thee! Out of my way thou goest this time!...” - -As it spat these words, incoherently, the red face became blocked from -my view by a fist outstretched, and I found myself looking down the -black mouth of a pistol barrel. I cut at it with my sword, even as the -yellow flame leaped out: my blade was shattered and flew, burring, -overhead. But the ball passed me. At the same instant there came a -shout from above; the Prince looked up and, quick as thought, wrenched -at his horse; the noble beast rose, beating the air with his forefeet, -just as János fired, over my head. For a second all was confusion. The -air seemed full of plunging hoofs and blinding smoke. Our own horses, -taking fright, dragged the carriage some yards away, where it stuck -in a snowheap. Then things became clear again. I saw,—I know not -how,—but all in the same flash, I saw a few paces beyond me, János -now standing in the road, my wife in her dishevelled furs behind him; -and in front, free from the bulk of his dying horse, my enemy on foot, -pistol in hand, and once more covering me with the most determined -deliberation of aim. With my bladeless sword hilt hanging bracelet-like -on my sprained wrist, defenceless, I stood, dizzily, facing my doom. - -Then for a third time the air rang with a shattering explosion. -The Prince flung both arms up, and I saw his great body founder -headforemost, a mere mass of clay, almost at my feet. I turned again, -and there was my János, with the smoking musketoon still to his cheek, -and there also my wife with the face of an avenging angel, one hand -upon his shoulder, and the other, with unerring gesture of command, -still pointing at the space beyond me where but a second before stood -the enemy who had held my life on the play of his forefinger. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - - -FOR the space of a few seconds we three stood motionless. The awful -stillness of the shadow of death was upon our souls. Then, approaching -from the distance came again to our ears the sound of hoofs, the -stumbling trot of a tired horse; and the quick wits of János were -awakened to action. - -“Into the carriage, my lady,” said he, “and you, my lord! We have -loosed enough shots for one day, and so it is best we should move on -again and avoid these other gentlemen.” - -He smiled as he spoke, a grim, triumphant smile. As for me, it was -certes nothing less than triumph I felt in my heart. I would have had -Prince Eugen dead, indeed, but not so, not so! - -“Let us, at least,” I cried a little wildly, “see if he still breathes!” - -“No need, my lord;” and János caught me by the wrist. “I am not so old -yet,” he added, eyeing his weapon with a delighted look, “but what I -can still aim straight. Did I not know him to be as truly carrion now -as his good horse itself, poor beast, I would surely enough despatch -him as he lies there biting the mud. But no need, my lord. Right in -the heart! The man was dead before he touched the ground.” And as he -spoke János dragged us towards the coach. - -The driver, half risen from his seat, still clutching one rein, -seemed struck into an imbecility of terror; the horses, now quieted, -stretching their necks luxuriously against the loosened bits, were -sniffing at the snow, as if in the hope of lighting upon a blade of -grass. Anna sat on the steps, her face blanched to a sort of grey. - -“Up with you!” said János, and pushed her with his knee. “Do you not -see your lady is faint?” The words aroused her, and they roused me. In -truth, Ottilie seemed scarcely able to sustain herself; it was time I -carried her away from such scenes. - -After closing the doors, János handed me the musketoon and the -cartouche-box, with the brief remark: “His lordship had better load -again, the while I drive, for this coachman of ours is out of his wits -with fright.” And thus we started once more; and in the crash and -rattle of the speed to which János mercilessly put the horses, the -stumbling paces of the approaching pursuers were lost to our hearing. -The draught of air across her face revived Ottilie, who now sat up with -courage, and tried to smile at me, though her face was still set in a -curious hardness, whilst I, with the best ability of a sprained wrist, -reloaded and reprimed. Events (as I have oft thought since) had proved -how happy a thought it had been of mine (some two weeks before, when -we made our preparations to leave London, to gratify my good János’s -desire for one of those admirable double-barrels I had seen him so -appreciatively and so covetously handle at Fargus and Manton’s, in -Soho.) - -When we reached the neck of the valley, I leaned out again and looked -back. The scene of that crisis in my eventful life lay already some -hundred yards below us. The second of our pursuers—a dragoon of -Liegnitz, as I now could see by his white coat, dirty yellow against -the snow—was in the act of dismounting from his exhausted steed. -I watched him bend over the prostrate figure of his chief for an -instant or two; then straighten himself to gaze up at our retreating -coach; then, with his arms behind him and his legs apart, in what, -even at that distance, I could see was an attitude of philosophical -indifference, turn towards the approaching figure of his comrade, who, -some hundred yards further down, now made his appearance on the road, -crawling onwards on an obviously foundered horse. It was evident -that whatever admiration the Margrave may have commanded during his -lifetime, his death did not inspire his followers with any burning -desire to avenge it. - -I leant out further and handed back the loaded musketoon to János. - -“You may spare our horses now,” said I; “there is no fear of further -pursuit to-day.” - -“Ay, my lord, so I see,” responded the heiduck, with a cheerful jerk of -the head in our rear. “And, moreover, in a quarter of an hour we shall -be across the border.” - - * * * * * - -Now of our story there is little more to tell. And well for us that it -is so; for one may, as I have said, chronicle strange adventures and -perils of life and limb, and one may pour out on paper the sorrows of -an aching heart, the frenzy of despair; but the sweet intimate details -of happiness must be kept secret and sacred, not only from the pen but -from the tongue. It will not, however, come amiss that, to complete my -narrative—in which, one day, if Heaven will, my children shall learn -the romance of their parents’ wooing and marriage—I should set down -how it came about that the Margrave contrived (to his own undoing) to -track us so speedily; how, with his death, came the dispelling of the -shadows upon both our lives. - -Shortly after our return to Tollendhal, a letter reached my wife from -the other Ottilie. It was evidently written in the greatest distraction -of mind, upon the very morning after our escape from Budissin. Although -conversation may not have been a strong point with Madam Lothner, -she seemed to wield a very fluent pen. She took two large sheets to -inform us how, upon her husband’s return on the previous night, his -suspicions being by some unaccountable means awakened, he had forced -from her the confession of all that had passed between us in the -afternoon. I cannot here take up my space and time with the record of -her excuses, her anguish, her points of exclamation, her appeals to -Heaven to witness the innocence of her intentions. But when I read her -missive I understood Anna’s contemptuous prophecy: “She keep a secret? -the sheep-head!” I understood also my wife’s attitude of tolerant -affection, and I blushed when I remembered the time when, blinded by -conceit, I had sought this great mock-pearl, when the real jewel lay at -my hand.... But to proceed. - -The doctor had instantly given the alarm at the palace, with the -result that the Princess’s flight was discovered within two hours -after it had taken place. Now the uproar in the Ducal household was, -it seems, beyond description. Two detachments of dragoons were at -once sent in pursuit of the two carriages which were known to have -left the town that night. (How we blessed Anna’s shrewder scheme!) -When they returned, empty-handed of course, the nature of the trick -was perceived. Prince Eugen—whose fury, it appears, was something -quite appalling to behold, not only because of the reassertion of the -Princess’s independence, but because the man whom he had taken so much -trouble to obliterate had presumed to be alive after all!—Prince -Eugen, according to his wont, took matters into his own hands. He -sallied forth with his henchman the doctor, to make inquiries for -himself in the town. The result of these was the discovery of the -passage of one Hans Meyerhofer’s cart out by the South Gate after -closing hours. This man was known to the doctor (whose stables he -supplied with fodder) as being Anna’s cousin, and the connection of the -Princess’s nurse with the scheme of escape was well demonstrated by her -own disappearance. This discovery was sufficient for the Margrave, and -(very much, it would appear, against the real wishes of the Duke, whose -most earnest desire was to proceed with as little scandal as possible) -he with half a dozen troopers instantly set forth in pursuit on the -road to Prague. Of these troopers, as we had seen, most had broken down -on the way, and none had been able to keep up with the higher mettled -mount of their leader—fortunately for us. - -It was after his departure that Madam Lothner wrote. She was convinced, -as she characteristically remarked, that the Prince would be -successful, and that the most dire misfortunes were about to fall upon -everybody—all through the obstinacy of M. de Jennico, who really could -not say he had not been warned. Nevertheless, on the chance of their -having escaped, either to England or to Tollendhal (and she addressed -her letter to Tollendhal, trusting that it would be forwarded), -she could not refrain from pouring forth her soul into her beloved -Princess’s bosom—and so forth and so on. In fact, the good woman had -wanted a confidant, and had found it on paper. - -Our next information regarding the Court of Lausitz came from a very -different source, and was of a totally different description. It was -the announcement in the Vienna News-Sheet of the death of Eugen, -Margrave of Liegnitz-Rothenburg, through a fall from his horse upon a -hunting expedition. It was also stated that, yielding at last to her -repeated requests, the Duke had consented to the retirement into a -convent of his only daughter, Princess Marie Ottilie, such having been -(it was stated) her ardent desire for more than a year. The name of the -convent was not given. - - * * * * * - -Here this memoir, begun in such storm and stress, within and without, -continued in such different moods and for such varied motives, ends -with the mantle of peace upon us, with the song of birds in our ears. - -Tollendhal, that I knew beautiful in the autumn; Tollendhal, the shrine -of our young foolish love, is now beautiful with the budding green all -round it under a dappled sky. But never had the old stronghouse looked -to me so noble as when I brought my bride back to it in the snow. As -the carriage at last entered upon the valley road and we saw it rise -before us, high against the sky, white-roofed and black-walled, stern, -strong, and frowning, while the winter sun flashed back a warm, red -welcome to the returning masters, from some high window here and there, -I felt my heart stir. And as I looked at Ottilie I saw in her eyes the -reflection of the same fire. - -Our people had been prepared for our coming by messengers from Prague. -The court of honour was thronged, and we entered amid acclamations such -as would have satisfied the heart of a king coming to his own again. We -had broken the bread and tasted the salt; we had drunk of the wine on -the threshold; we had been conducted in state; and at last, at last we -found ourselves alone in the old room where my great-uncle’s portrait -kept its silent watch! János, who, his work of trust done, had fallen -back into his place of heiduck as simply as the faithful blade falls -back into the scabbard, had retired to his station outside the door. -Without rang the wild music of the gipsies to the feasting people, and -the tremors of the czimbalom found an answer in the very fibres of my -soul—to such music she had first come to me in my dreams! - -The walls of the room were all ruddy with the reflection of the bonfire -in the courtyard: the very air was filled with joy and colour. And -there was my great-uncle’s portrait—he was simpering with ineffable -complacency; and there the rolled-up parchment; and there the table -where we had quarrelled, and where, since then, I had poured forth such -mad regrets. Oh! my God! what memories!... and there was my wife! - -Since the events which had first divided and then reunited us for ever, -I had not yet been able to find in the sweet, silent, docile woman I -had snatched back to my heart, the wilful Ottilie of old. Her spirits -seemed to have been sobered; her gaiety, her petulance, to have been -lost in the still current of the almost fearful happiness bought at the -price of blood; and at times, in my inmost heart, I had mourned for my -lost sprite. But now, as we stood together, she all illumined with the -rosy radiance from the fire, she looked of a sudden from the picture on -the wall to me, and I saw a spark of the old mockery leap into her eyes. - -“And so, sir,” she said, “the forward person who married you against -your will is mistress here again, after all!... but you will always -remember, I trust, that it is the privilege of a princess to choose -her partner.” And then she added, coming a step nearer me: “To-morrow -we must fill in the pedigree again—what say you, M. Jean Nigaud de la -Faridondaine?” - -Now, as she spoke, her lips arched into the well-remembered smile, and -beside it danced the dimple. And I know not what came upon me, for -there are joys so subtle that they unman even as sorrows, but I fell at -her feet with tears. - - - - - THE CHOIR INVISIBLE. - -By JAMES LANE ALLEN, - -_Author of “A Summer in Arcady,” “A Kentucky Cardinal,” etc._ - -12mo. Cloth. $1.50. - - -“‘The Choir Invisible’ bears upon its front that unspeakable repose, -that unhurried haste which is the hall-mark of literature; it is -alive with the passion of beauty and of pain; it vibrates with that -incommunicable thrill which Stevenson called the tuning-fork of art. -It is distinguished by a sweet and noble seriousness, through which -there strains the sunny light of a glancing humour, a wayward fancy, -like sunbeams stealing into a cathedral close through stained-glass -windows.”—_The Bookman._ - -“What impresses one most in this exquisite romance of Kentucky’s green -wilderness is the author’s marvellous power of drawing word-pictures -that stand before the mind’s eye in all the vividness of actuality. -Mr. Allen’s descriptions of nature are genuine poetry of form and -color.”—_The Tribune_, New York. - -“The impressions left by the book are lasting ones in every sense of -the word, and they are helpful as well. Strong, clear-cut, positive -in its treatment, the story will become a power in its way, and the -novelist-historian of Kentucky, its cleverest author, will achieve -a triumph second to no literary man’s in the country.”—_Commercial -Tribune_, Cincinnati. - -“It is this mighty movement of the Anglo-Saxon race in America, this -first appearance west of the mountains of civilized white types, that -Mr. Allen has chosen as the motive of his historical novel. And in -thus recalling ’the immortal dead’ he has aptly taken the title from -George Eliot’s greatest poem. It is by far his most ambitious work -in scope, in length, and in character drawing, and in construction. -And, while it deals broadly with the beginning of the nation, it gains -picturesqueness from the author’s _milieu_, as hardly anywhere else -were the aristocratic elements of colonial life so contrasted with the -rugged life of the backwoods.”—_The Journal._ - - - - - Works by F. Marion Crawford. - - - =CORLEONE.= By F. MARION CRAWFORD, author of “Saracinesca,” “Katharine - Lauderdale,” “Taquisara,” etc. Two volumes in box. $2.00. - - “Beginning in Rome, thence shifting to Sicily, and so back and - forth, the mere local color of the scene of action is of a depth and - variety to excite an ordinary writer to extravagance of diction, to - enthusiasm, at least of description; the plot is highly dramatic, not - to say sensational.... - - “Our author has created one of the strongest situations wherewith we - are acquainted, either in the novel or the drama. - - “Then he has rendered an important service to social science, in - addition to creating one of the strongest and most delightful novels - of our century.”—_The Bookman._ - - =A ROSE OF YESTERDAY.= Cloth. $1.25. - - =TAQUISARA.= Two volumes. 16mo. In box. $2.00. - - =CASA BRACCIO.= With thirteen full-page illustrations from drawings by - CASTAIGNE. Buckram. Two volumes in box. $2.00. - - =ADAM JOHNSTONE’S SON.= With twenty-four full-page illustrations by A. - FORESTIER. 12mo. Cloth. $1.50. - - =THE RALSTONS.= Two volumes. 16mo. Cloth. $2.00. - - -Uniform Edition of Mr. Crawford’s Other Novels. - -12mo. Cloth. Price $1.00 each. - - =Katharine Lauderdale.= - =Marion Darche.= - =A Roman Singer.= - =An American Politician.= - =Paul Patoff.= - =Marzio’s Crucifix.= - =Saracinesca.= - =A Tale of a Lonely Parish.= - =Zoroaster.= - =Dr. Claudius.= - =Mr. Isaacs.= - =Children of the King.= - =Pietro Ghisleri.= - =Don Orsino.= A Sequel to “Saracinesca,” and “Sant’Ilario.” - =The Three Fates.= - =The Witch of Prague.= - =Khaled.= - =A Cigarette-Maker’s Romance.= - =Sant’ Ilario.= A sequel to “Saracinesca.” - =Greifenstein.= - =With the Immortals.= - =To Leeward.= - - - - - ALFRED LORD TENNYSON. - -A MEMOIR. - -BY - -HIS SON. - -8vo. Cloth. Two Vols. Price, $10.00, _net_. - - -These volumes of over 500 pages each contain many letters written or -received by Lord Tennyson, to which no other biographer could have had -access, and in addition a large number of poems hitherto unpublished. - -Several chapters are contributed by such of his friends as Dr. Jowett, -the Duke of Argyll, the late Earl of Selborne, Mr. Lecky, Professor -Francis T. Palgrave, Professor Tyndall, Mr. Aubrey de Vere, and others, -who thus express their personal recollections. - -There are many illustrations, engraved after pictures by Richard Doyle, -Samuel Lawrence, G. F. Watts, R.A., etc., in all about twenty full-page -portraits and other illustrations. - - -COMMENTS. - -“The biography is easily the biography not only of the year, but of -the decade, and the story of the development of Tennyson’s intellect -and of his growth—whatever may be the varying opinions of his exact -rank among the greatest poets—into one of the few masters of English -verse, will be found full of thrilling interest, not only by the critic -and student of literature, but by the average reader.”—_The New York -Times._ - -“Two salient points strike the reader of this memoir. One is that it is -uniformly fascinating, so rich in anecdote and marginalia as to hold -the attention with the power of a novel. In the next place, it has been -put together with consummate tact, if not with academic art.... - -“It is authoritative if ever a memoir was. But, we repeat, it has -suffered no harm from having been composed out of family love and -devotion. It is faultless in its dignity.”—_The New York Tribune._ - - - - - THE LETTERS OF ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. - -EDITED WITH BIOGRAPHICAL ADDITIONS - -BY - -FREDERICK G. KENYON. - -With portraits. In two volumes. Crown 8vo. $4.00. - - -Two medium octavo volumes, with portraits, etc. The earliest -correspondence quoted took place when the writer was a young girl, -and every period of her life is represented in these frank and simple -letters. She knew many interesting people, was in Paris during the -_coup d’état_ in 1851, and lived in Florence during years of great -excitement in Italy. Among other pen-pictures she gives one of the few -English sketches we have of George Sand, whom she met several times. - - “The letters of Elizabeth Barrett Browning are an interesting - contribution to the literature of literary correspondence and an - agreeable addition to the literature of literary biography.”—_New - York Mail and Express._ - - “The Browning letters are admirably edited by Mr. Frederick C. Kenyon, - who holds them together with biographical notes which give the book an - additional value.”—_Philadelphia Press._ - - “Not since the publication of ’The Letters of Agassiz’ has there been - a nobler revelation of character in a biographical volume.”—_Boston - Evening Transcript._ - - “The letters now presented to the public are precisely as they came - from the pen of the writer, and we are reminded that it is Mrs. - Browning’s character, and not her genius, which is delineated in - these valuable contributions to literature....”—_New York Commercial - Advertiser._ - - -THE MACMILLAN COMPANY, - -66 Fifth Avenue, New York. - - - - - * * * * * * - - - - -Transcriber’s note: - -—Obvious errors were corrected. - -—A Table of Contents was not in the original work; one has been - produced and added by Transcriber. - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRIDE OF JENNICO*** - - -******* This file should be named 51238-0.txt or 51238-0.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/1/2/3/51238 - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - |