CHAPTER 11
Hunting a Very Big Boar
The terrible temptation which was assailing me will now be understood.I would so force Michael's hand that he must kill the King. I was in aposition to bid him defiance and tighten my grasp on the crown--not forits own sake, but because the King of Ruritania was to wed the PrincessFlavia. What of Sapt and Fritz? Ah! but a man cannot be held to writedown in cold blood the wild and black thoughts that storm his brain whenan uncontrolled passion has battered a breach for them. Yet, unlesshe sets up as a saint, he need not hate himself for them. He is betteremployed, as it humbly seems to me, in giving thanks that power toresist was vouchsafed to him, than in fretting over wicked impulseswhich come unsought and extort an unwilling hospitality from theweakness of our nature.
It was a fine bright morning when I walked, unattended, to theprincess's house, carrying a nosegay in my hand. Policy made excusesfor love, and every attention that I paid her, while it riveted my ownchains, bound closer to me the people of the great city, who worshippedher. I found Fritz's _inamorata_, the Countess Helga, gathering blooms inthe garden for her mistress's wear, and prevailed on her to take mine intheir place. The girl was rosy with happiness, for Fritz, in his turn,had not wasted his evening, and no dark shadow hung over his wooing,save the hatred which the Duke of Strelsau was known to bear him.
"And that," she said, with a mischievous smile, "your Majesty has madeof no moment. Yes, I will take the flowers; shall I tell you, sire, whatis the first thing the princess does with them?"
We were talking on a broad terrace that ran along the back of the house,and a window above our heads stood open.
"Madame!" cried the countess merrily, and Flavia herself looked out. Ibared my head and bowed. She wore a white gown, and her hair was looselygathered in a knot. She kissed her hand to me, crying:
"Bring the King up, Helga; I'll give him some coffee."
The countess, with a gay glance, led the way, and took me into Flavia'smorning-room. And, left alone, we greeted one another as lovers arewont. Then the princess laid two letters before me. One was from BlackMichael--a most courteous request that she would honour him by spendinga day at his Castle of Zenda, as had been her custom once a year in thesummer, when the place and its gardens were in the height of their greatbeauty. I threw the letter down in disgust, and Flavia laughed at me.Then, growing grave again, she pointed to the other sheet.
"I don't know who that comes from," she said. "Read it."
I knew in a moment. There was no signature at all this time, but thehandwriting was the same as that which had told me of the snare in thesummer-house: it was Antoinette de Mauban's.
"I have no cause to love you," it ran, "but God forbid that you shouldfall into the power of the duke. Accept no invitations of his. Gonowhere without a large guard--a regiment is not too much to make yousafe. Show this, if you can, to him who reigns in Strelsau."
"Why doesn't it say 'the King'?" asked Flavia, leaning over my shoulder,so that the ripple of her hair played on my cheek. "Is it a hoax?"
"As you value life, and more than life, my queen," I said, "obey it tothe very letter. A regiment shall camp round your house today. See thatyou do not go out unless well guarded."
"An order, sire?" she asked, a little rebellious.
"Yes, an order, madame--if you love me."
"Ah!" she cried; and I could not but kiss her.
"You know who sent it?" she asked.
"I guess," said I. "It is from a good friend--and I fear, an unhappywoman. You must be ill, Flavia, and unable to go to Zenda. Make yourexcuses as cold and formal as you like."
"So you feel strong enough to anger Michael?" she said, with a proudsmile.
"I'm strong enough for anything, while you are safe," said I.
Soon I tore myself away from her, and then, without consulting Sapt, Itook my way to the house of Marshal Strakencz. I had seen somethingof the old general, and I liked and trusted him. Sapt was lessenthusiastic, but I had learnt by now that Sapt was best pleased whenhe could do everything, and jealousy played some part in his views. Asthings were now, I had more work than Sapt and Fritz could manage, forthey must come with me to Zenda, and I wanted a man to guard what Iloved most in all the world, and suffer me to set about my task ofreleasing the King with a quiet mind.
The Marshal received me with most loyal kindness. To some extent, I tookhim into my confidence. I charged him with the care of the princess,looking him full and significantly in the face as I bade him let no onefrom her cousin the duke approach her, unless he himself were there anda dozen of his men with him.
"You may be right, sire," said he, shaking his grey head sadly. "I haveknown better men than the duke do worse things than that for love."
I could quite appreciate the remark, but I said:
"There's something beside love, Marshal. Love's for the heart; is therenothing my brother might like for his head?"
"I pray that you wrong him, sire."
"Marshal, I'm leaving Strelsau for a few days. Every evening I willsend a courier to you. If for three days none comes, you will publish anorder which I will give you, depriving Duke Michael of the governorshipof Strelsau and appointing you in his place. You will declare a state ofsiege. Then you will send word to Michael that you demand an audience ofthe King--You follow me?"
"Ay, sire."
"--In twenty-four hours. If he does not produce the King" (I laid myhand on his knee), "then the King is dead, and you will proclaim thenext heir. You know who that is?"
"The Princess Flavia."
"And swear to me, on your faith and honour and by the fear of the livingGod, that you will stand by her to the death, and kill that reptile, andseat her where I sit now."
"On my faith and honour, and by the fear of God, I swear it! And mayAlmighty God preserve your Majesty, for I think that you go on an errandof danger."
"I hope that no life more precious than mine may be demanded," said I,rising. Then I held out my hand to him.
"Marshal," I said, "in days to come, it may be--I know not--that youwill hear strange things of the man who speaks to you now. Let him bewhat he may, and who he may, what say you of the manner in which he hasborne himself as King in Strelsau?"
The old man, holding my hand, spoke to me, man to man.
"I have known many of the Elphbergs," said he, "and I have seen you.And, happen what may, you have borne yourself as a wise King and a braveman; ay, and you have proved as courteous a gentleman and as gallant alover as any that have been of the House."
"Be that my epitaph," said I, "when the time comes that another sits onthe throne of Ruritania."
"God send a far day, and may I not see it!" said he.
I was much moved, and the Marshal's worn face twitched. I sat down andwrote my order.
"I can hardly yet write," said I; "my finger is stiff still."
It was, in fact, the first time that I had ventured to write more thana signature; and in spite of the pains I had taken to learn the King'shand, I was not yet perfect in it.
"Indeed, sire," he said, "it differs a little from your ordinaryhandwriting. It is unfortunate, for it may lead to a suspicion offorgery."
"Marshal," said I, with a laugh, "what use are the guns of Strelsau, ifthey can't assuage a little suspicion?"
He smiled grimly, and took the paper.
"Colonel Sapt and Fritz von Tarlenheim go with me," I continued.
"You go to seek the duke?" he asked in a low tone.
"Yes, the duke, and someone else of whom I have need, and who is atZenda," I replied.
"I wish I could go with you," he cried, tugging at his white moustache."I'd like to strike a blow for you and your crown."
"I leave you what is more than my life and more than my crown," said I,"because you are the man I trust more than all other in Ruritania."
"I will deliver her to you safe and sound," said he, "and, failing that,I will make her queen."
We parted, and I returned to the Pala
ce and told Sapt and Fritz whatI had done. Sapt had a few faults to find and a few grumbles toutter. This was merely what I expected, for Sapt liked to be consultedbeforehand, not informed afterwards; but on the whole he approved of myplans, and his spirits rose high as the hour of action drew nearer andnearer. Fritz, too, was ready; though he, poor fellow, risked more thanSapt did, for he was a lover, and his happiness hung in the scale. Yethow I envied him! For the triumphant issue which would crown him withhappiness and unite him to his mistress, the success for which we werebound to hope and strive and struggle, meant to me sorrow more certainand greater than if I were doomed to fail. He understood something ofthis, for when we were alone (save for old Sapt, who was smoking at theother end of the room) he passed his arm through mine, saying:
"It's hard for you. Don't think I don't trust you; I know you havenothing but true thoughts in your heart."
But I turned away from him, thankful that he could not see what my heartheld, but only be witness to the deeds that my hands were to do.
Yet even he did not understand, for he had not dared to lift his eyes tothe Princess Flavia, as I had lifted mine.
Our plans were now all made, even as we proceeded to carry them out, andas they will hereafter appear. The next morning we were to start on thehunting excursion. I had made all arrangements for being absent, andnow there was only one thing left to do--the hardest, the mostheart-breaking. As evening fell, I drove through the busy streets toFlavia's residence. I was recognized as I went and heartily cheered. Iplayed my part, and made shift to look the happy lover. In spite of mydepression, I was almost amused at the coolness and delicate hauteurwith which my sweet lover received me. She had heard that the King wasleaving Strelsau on a hunting expedition.
"I regret that we cannot amuse your Majesty here in Strelsau," she said,tapping her foot lightly on the floor. "I would have offered you moreentertainment, but I was foolish enough to think--"
"Well, what?" I asked, leaning over her.
"That just for a day or two after--after last night--you might be happywithout much gaiety;" and she turned pettishly from me, as she added, "Ihope the boars will be more engrossing."
"I'm going after a very big boar," said I; and, because I could not helpit, I began to play with her hair, but she moved her head away.
"Are you offended with me?" I asked, in feigned surprise, for I couldnot resist tormenting her a little. I had never seen her angry, andevery fresh aspect of her was a delight to me.
"What right have I to be offended? True, you said last night that everyhour away from me was wasted. But a very big boar! that's a differentthing."
"Perhaps the boar will hunt me," I suggested. "Perhaps, Flavia, he'llcatch me."
She made no answer.
"You are not touched even by that danger?"
Still she said nothing; and I, stealing round, found her eyes full oftears.
"You weep for my danger?"
Then she spoke very low:
"This is like what you used to be; but not like the King--the King I--Ihave come to love!"
With a sudden great groan, I caught her to my heart.
"My darling!" I cried, forgetting everything but her, "did you dreamthat I left you to go hunting?"
"What then, Rudolf? Ah! you're not going--?"
"Well, it is hunting. I go to seek Michael in his lair."
She had turned very pale.
"So, you see, sweet, I was not so poor a lover as you thought me. Ishall not be long gone."
"You will write to me, Rudolf?"
I was weak, but I could not say a word to stir suspicion in her.
"I'll send you all my heart every day," said I.
"And you'll run no danger?"
"None that I need not."
"And when will you be back? Ah, how long will it be!"
"When shall I be back?" I repeated.
"Yes, yes! Don't be long, dear, don't be long. I shan't sleep whileyou're away."
"I don't know when I shall be back," said I.
"Soon, Rudolf, soon?"
"God knows, my darling. But, if never--"
"Hush, hush!" and she pressed her lips to mine.
"If never," I whispered, "you must take my place; you'll be the only oneof the House then. You must reign, and not weep for me."
For a moment she drew herself up like a very queen.
"Yes, I will!" she said. "I will reign. I will do my part though all mylife will be empty and my heart dead; yet I'll do it!"
She paused, and sinking against me again, wailed softly.
"Come soon! come soon!"
Carried away, I cried loudly:
"As God lives, I--yes, I myself--will see you once more before I die!"
"What do you mean?" she exclaimed, with wondering eyes; but I had noanswer for her, and she gazed at me with her wondering eyes.
I dared not ask her to forget, she would have found it an insult. Icould not tell her then who and what I was. She was weeping, and I hadbut to dry her tears.
"Shall a man not come back to the loveliest lady in all the wide world?"said I. "A thousand Michaels should not keep me from you!"
She clung to me, a little comforted.
"You won't let Michael hurt you?"
"No, sweetheart."
"Or keep you from me?"
"No, sweetheart."
"Nor anyone else?"
And again I answered:
"No, sweetheart."
Yet there was one--not Michael--who, if he lived, must keep me fromher; and for whose life I was going forth to stake my own. And hisfigure--the lithe, buoyant figure I had met in the woods of Zenda--thedull, inert mass I had left in the cellar of the hunting-lodge--seemedto rise, double-shaped, before me, and to come between us, thrustingitself in even where she lay, pale, exhausted, fainting, in my arms, andyet looking up at me with those eyes that bore such love as I have neverseen, and haunt me now, and will till the ground closes over me--and(who knows?) perhaps beyond.