CHAPTER XXX. KING KARL
"They love us dearly!" said King Karl.
The Chancellor, who sat beside him in the royal carriage, shrugged hisshoulders. "They have had little reason to love, in the past, Majesty,"he said briefly.
Karl laughed, and watched the crowd. He and the Chancellor rode alone,Karl's entourage, a very modest one, following in another carriage.There was no military escort, no pomp. It had been felt unwise. Karl,paying ostensibly a visit of sympathy, had come unofficially.
"But surely," he observed, as they passed between sullen lines ofpeople, mostly silent, but now and then giving way to a muttering thatsounded ominously like a snarl,--"surely I may make a visit of sympathywithout exciting their wrath!"
"They are children," said Mettlich contemptuously. "Let one growl, andall growl. Let some one start a cheer, and they will cheer themselveshoarse."
"Then let some one cheer, for God's sake!" said Karl, and turned hismocking smile to the packed streets.
The Chancellor was not so calm as he appeared. He had lined the routefrom the station to the Palace with his men; had prepared for everycontingency so far as he could without calling out the guard. As thecarriage, drawn by its four chestnut horses, moved slowly along thestreets, his eyes under their overhanging thatch were watching ahead,searching the crowd for symptoms of unrest.
Anger he saw in plenty, and suspicion. Scowling faces and frowningbrows. But as yet there was no disorder. He sat with folded arms,magnificent in his uniform beside Karl, who wore civilian dress andlooked less royal than perhaps he felt.
And Karl, too, watched the crowd, feeling its temper and feigning anindifference he did not feel. Olga Loschek had been right. He did notwant trouble. More than that, he was of an age now to crave popularity.Many of the measures which had made him beloved in his own land had nohigher purpose than this, the smiles of the crowd. So he watched andtalked of indifferent things.
"It is ten years since I have been here," he observed, "but there arefew changes."
"We have built no great buildings," said Mettlich bluntly. "Wars haveleft us no money, Majesty, for building!"
That being a closed road, so to speak, Karl tried another. "The CrownPrince must be quite a lad," he experimented. "He was a babe in arms,then, but frail, I thought."
"He is sturdy now." The Chancellor relapsed into watchfulness.
"Before I see the Princess Hedwig," Karl made another attempt, "it mightbe well to tell me how she feels about things. I would like to feel thatthe prospect is at least not disagreeable to her."
The Chancellor was not listening. There was trouble ahead. It had come,then, after all. He muttered something behind his gray mustache. Thehorses stopped, as the crowd suddenly closed in front of them.
"Drive on!" he said angrily, and the coachman touched his whip to thehorses. But they only reared, to be grasped at the bridles by hostilehands ahead.
Karl half rose from his seat.
"Sit still, Majesty," said the Chancellor. "It is the students. Theywill talk, that is all."
But it came perilously near to being a riot. Led by some students,pushed by others, the crowd surrounded the two carriages, firstmuttering, then yelling. A stone was hurled, and struck one of thehorses. Another dented the body of the carriage itself. A man with ahandkerchief tied over the lower half of his face mounted the shouldersof two companions, and harangued the crowd. They wanted no friendshipwith Karnia. There were those who would sell them out to their neighborand enemy. Were they to lose their national existence? He exhorted themmadly through the handkerchief. Others, further back, also raised abovethe mob, shrieked treason, and called the citizens to arm against thisthing. A Babel of noise, of swinging back and forth, of mounted policepushing through to surround the carriage, of cries and the dominatingvoices of the student-demagogues. Then at last a semblance of order, lowmuttering, an escort of police with drawn revolvers around the carriage,and it moved ahead.
Through it all the Chancellor had sat with folded arms. Only his lividface told of his fury. Karl, too, had sat impassive, picking at hissmall mustache. But, as the carriage moved on, he said: "A few momentsago I observed that there had been few changes. But there has been, Iperceive, after all, a great change."
"One cannot judge the many by the few, Majesty."
But Karl only raised his eyebrows.
In his rooms, removing the dust of his journey, broken by the automobiletrip across the mountains where the two railroads would some day meet,Karl reflected on the situation. His amour-propre was hurt. Thingsshould have been better managed, for one thing. It was inexcusablethat he had been subjected to such a demonstration. But, aside from theinjury to his pride, was a deeper question. If this was the temperof the people now, what would it be when they found their suspicionsjustified? Had Ogla Loschek been right after all, and not merelyjealous? And if she were, was the game worth the candle?
Pacing the drawing-room of his suite with a cigarette, and cursing thetables and bric-a-brac with which it was cluttered, Karl was of a mindto turn back, after all, Even the prospect which his Ministers had notfailed to recognize, of the Crown Prince never reaching his maturity,was a less pleasing one than it had been. A dual monarchy, one portionof it restless and revolutionary, was less desirable than the presentpeace and prosperity of Karnia. And unrest was contagious. He might findhimself in a difficult position.
He was, indeed, even now in a difficult position.
He glanced about his rooms. In one of them Prince Hubert had met hisdeath. It was well enough for Mettlich to say the few could not speakfor the many. It took but one man to do a murder, Karl reflected grimly.
But when he arrived for tea in the Archduchess's white drawing-room hewas urbane and smiling. Hedwig, standing with cold hands and terrifiedeyes by the tea-table, disliked both his urbanity and his smile. Hekissed the hand of the Archduchess and bent over Hedwig's with a flashof white teeth.
Then he saw Olga Loschek, and his smile stiffened. The Countess cameforward, curtsied, and as he extended his hand to her, touched itlightly with her lips. They were quite cold. For just an instant theireyes met.
It was, on the surface, an amiable and quiet teaparty. Hilda, in a newfrock, flirted openly with the King, and read his fortune in tea-leaves.Hedwig had taken up her position by a window, and was conspicuouslysilent. Behind her were the soft ring of silver against china; theCountess's gay tones; Karl's suave ones, assuming gravity, as heinquired for His Majesty; the Archduchess Annunciata pretending asolicitude she did not feel. And all forced, all artificial, OlgaLoschek's heart burning in her, and Karl watching Hedwig with openadmiration and some anxiety.
"Grandmother," Hedwig whispered from her window to the austere oldbronze figure in the Place, "was it like this with you, at first? Didyou shiver when he touched your hand? And doesn't it matter, after ayear?"
"Very feeble," said the Archduchess's voice; behind her, "but sobrave--a lesson to us all."
"He has had a long and conspicuous career," Karl observed. "It is sad,but we must all come to it. I hope he will be able to see me."
"Hedwig!" said her mother, sharply, "your tea is getting cold."
Hedwig turned toward the room. Listlessness gave her an added dignity, anew charm. Karl's eyes flamed as he watched her. He was a connoisseur inwomen; he had known many who were perhaps more regularly beautiful, butnone, he felt, so lovely. Her freshness and youth made Olga, beautifullydressed, superbly easy, look sophisticated and a trifle hard. Even hercoldness appealed to him. He had a feeling that the coldness was onlya young girl's armor, that under it was a deeply passionate woman. Thethought of seeing her come to deep, vibrant life in his arms thrilledhim.
When he carried her tea to her, he bent over her. "Please!" he said."Try to like me. I--"
"I'm sorry," Hedwig said quickly. "Mother has forgotten the lemon."
Karl smiled and, shrugging his shoulders, fetched the lemon. "Right,now?" he inquired. "And aren't we going to have a talk together?"
"If you wish it, I dare say we shall."
"Majesty," said Hilda, frowning into her teacup. "I see a marriage foryou." She ignored her mother's scowl, and tilted her cup to examine it.
"A marriage!" Karl joined her, and peered with mock anxiety at thetea-grounds. "Strange that my fate should be confined in so small acompass! A happy marriage? Which am I?"
"The long yellow leaf. Yes, it looks happy. But you may be rathershocked when I tell you."
"Shocked?"
"I think," said Hilda, grinning, "that you are going to marry me."
"Delightful!"
"And we are going to have--"
"Hilda!" cried the Archduchess fretfully. "Do stop that nonsense and letus talk. I was trying to recall, this morning," she said to Karl, "whenyou last visited us." She knew it quite well, but she preferred havingKarl think she had forgotten. "It was, I believe, just before Hubert--"
"Yes," said Karl gravely, "just before."
"Otto was a baby then."
"A very small child. I remember that I was afraid to handle him."
"He is a curious boy, old beyond his years. Rather a little prig, Ithink. He has an English governess, and she has made him quite a littlewoman."
Karl laughed, but Hedwig flushed.
"He is not that sort at all," she declared stoutly. "He is lonelyand--and rather pathetic. The truth is that no one really cares for him,except--"
"Except Captain Larisch!" said the Archduchess smoothly. "You and he,Hedwig, have done your best by him, surely."
The bit of byplay was not lost on Karl--the sudden stiffening ofHedwig's back, Olga's narrowed eyes. Olga had been right, then. Trusther for knowing facts when they were disagreeable. His eyes became setand watchful, hard, too, had any noticed. There were ways to deal withsuch a situation, of course. They were giving him this girl to securetheir own safety, and she knew it. Had he not been so mad about her hemight have pitied her, but he felt no pity, only a deep and resentfuldetermination to get rid of Nikky, and then to warm her by his own fire.He might have to break her first. After that manner had many Queens ofKarnia come to the throne. He smiled behind his small mustache.
When tea was almost over, the Crown Prince was announced. He came in,rather nervously, with hie hands thrust in his trousers pockets. He wasvery shiny with soap and water and his hair was still damp from parting.In his tailless black jacket, his long gray trousers, and his round Etoncollar, he looked like a very anxious little schoolboy, and not royal atall.
Greetings over, and having requested that his tea be half milk, withfour lumps of sugar, he carried his cup over beside Hedwig, and sat downon a chair. Followed a short silence, with the Archduchess busy with thetea-things, Olga Loschek watching Karl, and Karl intently surveying theCrown Prince. Ferdinand William Otto, who disliked a silence, broke itfirst.
"I've just taken off my winter flannels," he observed. "I feel verysmooth and nice underneath."
Hilda giggled, but Hedwig reached over and stroked his arm. "Of courseyou do," she said gently.
"Nikky," continued Prince Ferdinand William Otto, stirring his tea,"does not wear any flannels. Miss Braithwaite thinks he is verycareless."
King Karl's eyes gleamed with amusement. He saw the infuriated face ofthe Archduchess, and bent toward the Crown Prince with earnestness.
"As a matter of fact," he said, "since you have mentioned the subject,I do not wear any either. Your 'Nikky' and I seem most surprisingly tohave the same tastes--about various things."
Annunciata was in the last stages of irritation. There was no mistakingthe sneer in Karl's voice. His smile was forced. She guessed that he hadheard of Nikky Larisch before, that, indeed, he knew probably more thanshe did. Just what, she wondered, was there to know? A great deal, ifone could judge by Hedwig's face.
"I hope you are working hard at your lesson, Otto," she said, in thesevere tone which Otto had learned that most people use when they referto lessons.
"I'm afraid I'm not doing very well, Tante. But I've learned the'Gettysburg Address.' Shall I say it?"
"Heavens, no!" she protested. She had not the faintest idea what the"Gettysburg Address" was. She suspected Mr. Gladstone.
The Countess had relapsed into silence. A little back from the familycircle, she had watched the whole scene stonily, and knowing Karl asonly a woman who loves sincerely and long can know a man, she knew theinner workings of his mind. She saw anger in the very turn of his headand set of his jaw. But she saw more, jealousy, and was herself half madwith it.
She knew him well. She had herself, for years, held him by holdingherself dear, by the very difficulty of attaining her. And now thisindifferent, white-faced girl, who might be his, indeed, for the taking,but who would offer or promise no love, was rousing him to the instinctof possession by her very indifference. He had told her the truth, thatnight in the mountain inn. It was Hedwig he wanted, Hedwig herself, herheart, all of her. And, if she knew Karl, he would move heaven and earthto get the thing he wanted.
She surveyed the group. How little they knew what was in store for them!She, Olga Loschek, by the lifting of a finger, could turn their smugsuperiority into tears and despair, could ruin them and send them flyingfor shelter to the very ends of the earth.
But when she looked at the little Crown Prince, legs dangling, eatinghis thin bread and butter as only a hungry small boy can eat, sheshivered. By what means must she do all this! By what unspeakable means!
Karl saw the King that evening, a short visit marked by extremeformality, and, on the King's part, by the keen and frank scrutiny ofone who is near the end and fears nothing but the final moment. Karlfound the meeting depressing and the King's eyes disconcerting.
"It will not be easy going for Otto," said the King, at the end ofthe short interview. "I should like to feel that his interests will belooked after, not only here, but by you and yours. We have a certainelement here that is troublesome."
And Karl, with Hedwig in his mind, had promised.
"His interests shall be mine, sir," he had said.
He had bent over the bed then, and raised the thin hand to his lips. Theinterview was over. In the anteroom the King's Master of the Horse, theChamberlain, and a few other gentlemen stood waiting, talking togetherin low tones. But the Chancellor, who had gone in with Karl and thenretired, stood by a window, with his arms folded over his chest, andwaited. He put resolutely out of his mind the face of the dying manon his pillows, and thought only of this thing which he--Mettlich hadbrought about. There was no yielding in his face or in his heart, nodoubt of his course. He saw, instead of the lovers loitering in thePlace, a new and greater kingdom, anarchy held down by an ironshod heel,peace and the fruits thereof, until out of very prosperity the peoplegrew fat and content.
He saw a boy king, carefully taught, growing into his responsibilitiesuntil, big with the vision of the country's welfare, he should finallyascend the throne. He saw the river filled with ships, carryingmerchandise over the world and returning with the wealth of the world.Great buildings, too, lifted their heads on his horizon, a dream city,with order for disorder, and citizens instead of inhabitants.
When at last he stirred and sighed, it was because his old friend, inhis bed in the next room, would see nothing of all this, and that hehimself could not hope for more than the beginning, before his time camealso.
The first large dinner for months was given that night at the Palace,to do King Karl all possible honor. The gold service which had beenpresented to the King by the Czar of Russia was used. The anticipatorygloom of the Court was laid aside, and jewels brought from vaults wereworn for the first time in months. Uniforms of various sorts, but allgorgeous, touched fine shoulders, and came away, bearing white, powderytraces of the meeting. The greenhouses at the summer palace had beensacked for flowers and plants. The corridor from the great salon to thedining-hall; always a dreary passage, had suddenly become a fairy pathof early-spring bloom. Even Annunciata, hung now with ropes of pearls,her hair dressed high for a
tiara of diamonds, her cameos exchanged forpearls, looked royal. Proving conclusively that clutter, as to dress, isentirely a matter of value.
Miss Braithwaite, who had begun recently to think a palace the dreariestplace in the world, and the most commonplace, found the preparationsrather exciting. Being British she dearly loved the aristocracy, andshrugged her shoulders at any family which took up less than a pagein the peerage. She resented deeply the intrusion of the commonerinto British politics, and considered Lloyd George an upstart and aninterloper.
That evening she took the Crown Prince to see the preparations for thefestivities. The flowers appealed to him, and he asked for and secureda rose, which he held carefully. But the magnificence of the tableonly faintly impressed him, and when he heard that Nikky would not bepresent, he lost interest entirely. "Will they wheel my grandfather in achair?" he inquired.
"He is too ill," Miss Braithwaite said.
"He'll be rather lonely, when they're all at the party. You don'tsuppose I could go and sit with him, do you?"
"It will be long after your bedtime."
Bedtime being the one rule which was never under any circumstancesbroken, he did not persist. To have insisted might have meant five offin Miss Braithwaite's book, and his record was very good that week.Together the elderly Englishwoman and the boy went back to theschoolroom.
The Countess Loschek, who had dressed with a heavy heart, was easilythe most beautiful of the women that night. Her color was high withexcitement and anger, her eyes flashed, her splendid shoulders gleamedover the blue and orchid shades of her gown. A little court paid tributeto her beauty, and bowed the deeper and flattered the more as she openlyscorned and flouted them. She caught once a flicker of admiration inKarl's face, and although her head went high, her heart beat stormilyunder it.
Hedwig was like a flower that required the sun. Only her sun washappiness. She was in soft white chiffons, her hair and frock alikegirlish and unpretentious. Her mother, coming into her dressing room,had eyed her with disfavor.
"You look like a school-girl," she said, and had sent for rouge, andwith her own royal hands applied it. Hedwig stood silent, and allowedher to have her way without protest. Had submitted, too, to a diamondpin in her hair, and a string of her mother's pearls.
"There," said Annunciata, standing off and surveying her, "you look lesslike a baby."
She did, indeed? It took Hedwig quite five minutes to wash the rouge offher face, and there was, one might as well confess, a moment when a partof the crown jewels of the kingdom lay in a corner of the room, whence atrembling maid salvaged them, and examined them for damage.
The Princess Hedwig appeared that evening without rouge, and was theonly woman in the room thus unadorned. Also she wore her coming-outstring of modest pearls and a slightly defiant, somewhat frightened,expression.
The dinner was endless, which was necessary, since nothing was to followbut conversation. There could, under the circumstances, be no dancing.And the talk at the table, through course after course, was somewhathectic, even under the constraining presence of King Karl. Therewere two reasons for this: Karl's presence and his purpose--as yetunannounced, but surmised, and even known--and the situation in thecity.
That was bad. The papers had been ordered to make no mention of theoccurrence of the afternoon, but it was well known. There were many atthe table who felt the whole attempt foolhardy, the setting of a matchto inflammable material. There were others who resented Karl's presencein Livonia, and all that it implied. And perhaps there were, too, amongthe guests, one or more who had but recently sat in less august and moreawful company.
Beneath all the brilliance and chatter, the sparkle and gayety, therewas, then, uneasiness, wretchedness, and even treachery. And outside thePalace, held back by the guards, there still stood a part of the sullencrowd which had watched the arrival of the carriages and automobiles,had craned forward to catch a glimpse of uniform or brilliantly shroudedfigure entering the Palace, and muttered as it looked.
Dinner was over at last. The party moved back to the salon, a vast andempty place, hung with tapestries and gayly lighted. Here the semblanceof gayety persisted, and Karl, affability itself, spoke a few words toeach of the guests. Then it was over. The guests left, the members ofthe Council, each with a wife on his arm, frowsy, overdressed women mostof them. The Council was chosen for ability and not for birth. At lastonly the suite remained, and constraint vanished.
The family withdrew shortly after--to a small salon off the large one.And there, at last, Karl cornered Hedwig and demanded speech.
"Where?" she asked, glancing around the crowded room.
"I shall have to leave that to you," he said. "Unless there is abalcony."
"But do you think it is necessary?"
"Why not?"
"Because what I have to say does not matter."
"It matters very much to me," he replied gravely.
Hedwig went first, slipping away quietly and unnoticed. Karl asked theArchduchess's permission to follow her, and found her waiting therealone, rather desperately calm now, and with a tinge of excited color inher cheeks. Because he cared a great deal, and because, as kings go,he was neither hopelessly bad nor hard, his first words were kind andgenuine, and almost brought her to tears.
"Poor little girl!" he said.
He had dropped the curtain behind him, and they stood alone.
"Don't," said Hedwig. "I want to be very calm, and I am sorry for myselfalready."
"Then you think it is all very terrible?"
She did not reply, and he drew a chair for her to the rail. When she wasseated, he took up his position beside her, one arm against a pillar.
"I wonder, Hedwig," he said, "if it is not terrible because it is new toyou, and because you do not know me very well. Not," he added hastily,"that I think your knowing me well would be an advantage! I am not soidiotic. But you do not know me at all, and for a good many years I musthave stood in the light of an enemy. It is not easy to readjust suchthings--witness the reception I had to-day!"
"I do not think of you in that way, as--as an enemy."
"Then what is it?"
"Why must we talk about it?" Hedwig demanded, looking up at him suddenlywith a flash of her old spirit. "It will not change anything."
"Perhaps not. Perhaps--yes. You see, I am not quite satisfied. I do notwant you, unless you are willing. It would be a poor bargain for me, andnot quite fair."
A new turn, this, with a vengeance! Hedwig stared up with startled eyes.It was not enough to be sacrificed. And as she realized all that hung onthe situation, the very life of the kingdom, perhaps the safety of herfamily, everything, she closed her eyes for fear he might see the frightin them.
Karl bent over and took one of her cold hands between his two warm ones."Little Hedwig," he said, "I want you to come willingly because--I carea great deal. I would like you to care, too. Don't you think you would,after a time?"
"After a time!" said Hedwig drearily. "That's what they all say. After atime it doesn't matter. Marriage is always the same--after a time."
Karl rather winced at that, and released her hands, but put them downgently. "Why should marriage be always the same, after a time?" heinquired.
"This sort of marriage, without love."
"It is hardly that, is it? I love you."
"I wonder how much you love me."
Karl smiled. He was on his own ground here. The girlish question put himat ease. "Enough for us both, at first," he said. "After that--"
"But," said Hedwig desperately, "suppose I know I shall never care foryou, the way you will want me to. You talk of being fair. I want to befair to you. You have a right--" She checked herself abruptly. Afterall, he might have a right to know about Nikky Larisch. But there wereothers who had rights, too--Otto to his throne, her mother and Hildaand all the others, to safety, her grandfather to die in peace, the onlygift she could give him.
"What I think you want to tell me, is something I already know,"
Karlsaid gravely. "Suppose I am willing to take that chance? Suppose I amvain enough, or fool enough, to think that I can make you forget certainthings, certain people. What then?"
"I do not forget easily."
"But you would try?"
"I would try," said Hedwig, almost in a whisper.
Karl bent over and taking her hands, raised her to her feet.
"Darling," he said, and suddenly drew her to him. He covered her withhot kisses, her neck, her face, the soft angle below her ear. Thenhe held her away from him triumphantly. "Now," he said, "have youforgotten?"
But Hedwig, scarlet with shame, faced him steadily. "No," she said.
Later in the evening the old King received a present, a rather wiltedrose, to which was pinned a card with "Best wishes from FerdinandWilliam Otto" printed on it in careful letters.
It was the only flower the King had received during his illness.
When, that night, he fell asleep, it was still clasped in his old hand,and there was a look of grim tenderness on the face on the pillow,turned toward his dead son's picture.