Graustark

  XIII. UNDER MOON AND MONASTERY

  For two days Lorry lived through intermittent stages of delight anddespondency. His recovery from the effects of the blow administered byDannox was naturally rapid, his strong young constitution coming tothe rescue bravely. He saw much of the Princess, more of the CountessDagmar, and made the acquaintance of many lords and ladies for whom hecared but little except when they chose to talk of their girlish ruler.The atmosphere of the castle was laden with a depression that could notbe overcome by an assimilated gaiety. There was the presence of a shadowthat grew darker and nearer as the days went by, and there were anxioushearts under the brave, proud spirits of those who held the destiny ofGraustark in their hands.

  The princess could not bide the trouble that had sprung up in her eyes.Her laugh, her gay conversation, her rare composure and gentle hauteurwere powerless to drive away the haunted, worried gleam in thoseexpressive eyes of blue. Lorry had it on his tongue's end a dozen timesduring the next day or so after the count's narrative to question herabout the condition of affairs as they appeared to her. He wonderedwhether she, little more than a girl, could see and understand theenormity of the situation that confronted her and her people. A strange,tender fear prevented him from speaking to her of the thing which wasoppressing her life. Not that he expected a rebuff from her, but that hecould not endure the thought of hearing her brave, calm recital ofthe merciless story. He knew that she could narrate it all to him moreplainly than had her uncle. Something told him that she was fully awareof the real and underlying conditions. He could see, in his imagination,the proud, resigned face and manner of this perplexed Princess, as shewould have talked to him of her woes, and he could also picture thetelltale eyes and the troubled expression that would not be disguised.

  The Countess Dagmar, when not monopolized by the very progressive, oraggressive Anguish, unfolded to Lorry certain pages in the personalhistory of the Princess, and he, of course, encouraged her confidentialhumor, although there was nothing encouraging in it for him.

  Down by the great fountain, while the soldiers were on parade, the fairbut volatile Countess unfolded to Lorry a story that wrenched his heartso savagely that anger, resentment, helplessness and love oozed forthand enveloped him in a multitude of emotions that would not disperse. Tohave gone to the Princess and laid down his life to save her would havegiven him pleasure, but he had promised something to her that could notbe forgotten in a day. In his swelling heart he prayed for the time tocome when he could take her in his arms, cancel his promise and defy thetroubles that opposed her.

  "She will not mind my telling you, because she considers you the verybest of men, Mr. Lorry," said the Countess, who had learned her Englishunder the Princess Yetive's tutor. The demure, sympathetic littleCountess, her face glowing with excitement and indignation, could notresist the desire to pour into the ears of this strong and resourcefulman the secrets of the Princess, as if trusting to him, the child ofa powerful race, to provide relief. It was the old story of the weakappealing to the strong.

  It seems, according to the very truthful account given by the lady, thatthe Princess had it in her power to save Graustark from disgrace andpractical destruction. The Prince of Axphain's son, Lorenz, wasdeeply enamoured of her, infatuated by her marvelous beauty andaccomplishments. He had persuaded his father to consider a matrimonialalliance with her to be one of great value to Axphain. The old prince,therefore, some months before the arrival of the Americans in Graustark,sent to the Princess a substitute ultimatum, couched in terms so politeand conciliatory that there could be no mistaking his sincerity. Heagreed to give Graustark a new lease of life, as it were, by extendingthe fifteen years, or, in other words, to grant the conquered anadditional ten years in which to pay off the obligations imposed by thetreaty. He furthermore offered a considerable reduction in the rate ofinterest for the next ten years. But he had a condition attached to thisgood and gracious proposition; the marriage of Graustark's sovereign.His ambassador set forth the advantages of such an alliance, anddeparted with a message that the matter should have most seriousconsideration.

  The old Prince's proposition was a blow to the Princess, who was placedin a trying position. By sacrificing herself she could save her country,but in so doing her life was to be plunged into interminable darkness.She did not love, nor did she respect Lorenz, who was not favorablysupplied with civilized intelligence. The proposition was laid beforethe cabinet and the nobility by the Princess herself, who said that shewould be guided by any decision they might reach. The counsellors, toa man, refused to sacrifice their girlish ruler, and the peoplevociferously ratified the resolution. But the Princess would not allowthem to send an answer to Axphain until she could see a way clear tosave her people in some other manner. An embassy was sent to the Princeof Dawsbergen. His domain touched Graustark on the south, and he ruled awild, turbulent class of mountaineers and herdsmen. This embassy soughtto secure an endorsement of the loan from Prince Gabriel sufficient tomeet the coming crisis. Gabriel, himself smitten by the charms of thePrincess, at once offered himself in marriage, agreeing to advance, incase she accepted him, twenty million gavvos, at a rather high rate ofinterest, for fifteen years. His love for her was so great that hewould pawn the entire principality for an answer that would make him thehappiest man on earth. Now, the troubled Princess abhorred Gabriel. Ofthe two, Lorenz was much to be preferred. Gabriel flew into a rage uponthe receipt of this rebuff, and openly avowed his intention to make hersuffer. His infatuation became a mania, and, up to the very day onwhich the Countess told the story, he persisted in his appeals to thePrincess. In person he had gone to her to plead his suit, on his knees,grovelling at her feet. He went so far as to exclaim madly in thepresence of the alarmed but relentless object of his love that he wouldwin her or turn the whole earth into everything unpleasant.

  So it was that the Princess of Graustark, erstwhile Miss Guggenslocker,was being dragged through the most unhappy affairs that ever beset asovereign. Within a month she was to sign away two-thirds of her domain,transforming multitudes of her beloved and loving people into subjectsof the hated Axphain, or to sell herself, body and soul, to a loathsomebidder in the guise of a suitor. And, with all this confronting her, shehad come to the realization of a truth so sad and distracting; thatit was breaking her tortured heart. She was in love--but with no royalprince! Of this, however, the Countess knew nothing, so Lorry had onegreat secret to cherish alone.

  "Has she chosen the course she will pursue?" asked Lorry, as theCountess concluded her story. Isis face was turned away.

  "She cannot decide. We have wept together over this dreadful, thishorrible thing. You do not know what it means to all of us, Mr. Lorry.We love her, and there is not one in our land who would sacrifice her tosave this territory. As for Gabriel, Graustark would kill her before sheshould go to him. Still she cannot let herself sacrifice those northernsubjects when by a single act she can save them. You see, the Princesshas not forgotten that her father brought this war upon the people,and she feels it her duty to pay the penalty of his error, whatever thecost."

  "Is there no other to whom she can turn no other course?" asked Lorry.

  "There is none who would assist us, bankrupt as we are. There is aquestion I want to ask, Mr. Lorry. Please look at me--do not stare atthe fountain all the time. Why have you come to Edelweiss?" She askedthe question so boldly that his startled embarrassment was an unspokenconfession. He calmed himself and hesitated long before answering,weighing his reply. She sat close beside him, her clear gray eyesreading him like a book.

  "I came to see a Miss Guggenslocker," he answered at last.

  "For what purpose? There must have been an urgent cause to bring you sofar. You are not an American banker?"

  "I had intended to ask her to be my wife," he said, knowing that secrecywas useless and seeing a faint hope.

  "You did not find Miss Guggenslocker."

  "No. I have not found her."

  "And are you going home disappointe
d, Mr. Lorry, because she is nothere?"

  "I leave the answer to your tender imagination."

  There was a long pause.

  "May I ask when you expect to leave Graustark?" she asked, somewhattimidly.

  "Why do you wish to know?" he asked in turn.

  "Because I know how hopeless your quest has been. You have found MissGuggenslocker, but she is held behind a wall so strong and impregnablethat you cannot reach her with the question you came to ask. You havecome to that wall, and now you must turn back. I have asked, how soon?"

  "Not until your Princess bids me take up my load and go. You see, mylady, I love to sit beneath the shadow of the wall you describe. It willrequire a royal edict to compel me to abandon my position."

  "You cannot expect the Princess to drive you from her country,--you whohave done so much for her. You must go, Mr. Lorry, without her bidding."

  "I must?"

  "Yes, for your presence outside that wall may make the imprisonmentall the more unendurable for the one your love cannot reach. Do youunderstand me?"

  "Has the one behind the wall instructed you to say this to me?" he askedmiserably.

  "She has not. I do not know her heart, but I am a woman and have awoman's foresight. If you wish to be kind and good to her, go!"

  "I cannot!" he exclaimed, his pent feelings bursting forth. "I cannotgo!"

  "You will not be so selfish and so cruel as to increase the horror ofthe wreck that is sure to come," she said, drawing back.

  "You know, Countess, of the life-saving crews who draw from the wrecksof ships lives that were hopelessly lost? There is to be a wreck here;is there to be a life-saver? When the night is darkest, the sea wildest,when hope is gone, is not that the time when rescue is most precious?Tell me, you who know all there is of this approaching disaster?"

  "I cannot command you to leave Edelweiss; I can only tell you that youwill have something to answer for if you stay," said the Countess.

  "Will you help me if I show to you that I can reach the wreck and savethe one who clings to it despairingly?" he asked, smiling, suddenly calmand confident.

  "Willingly, for I love the one who is going down in the sea. I havespoken to you seriously, though, and I trust you will not misunderstandme. I like you and I like Mr. Anguish. You could stay here forever sofar as I am concerned."

  He thought long and intently over what she had said as he smoked hiscigar on the great balcony that night. In his heart he knew he wasadding horror, but that persistent hope of the life-saver came up freshand strong to combat the argument. He saw, in one moment, the vast chasmbetween the man and the princess; in the next, he laughed at the punyspace.

  Down on the promenade he could see the figures of men and womenstrolling in the moonlight. To his ears came the occasional laugh of aman, the silvery gurgle of a woman. The royal military band was playingin the stand near the edge of the great circle. There was gaiety,comfort, charm and security about everything that came to his eyes andears. Was it possible that this peace, unruffled, was so near its end?

  He smiled as he heard Harry Anguish laugh gaily in his good old way,his ringing tones mingling with a woman's. There was no trouble in thehearts of the Countess and his blithe comrade. Behind him rose the grimcastle walls, from the windows of which, here and there, gleamed thelights of the night. Where was she? He had seen her in the afternoon andhad talked with her, had walked with her. Their conversation had beenbright, but of the commonplace kind. She had said nothing to indicatethat she remembered the hour spent beside his couch a day or so before;he had uttered none of the words that struggled to rush from his lips,the questions, the pleadings, the vows. Where was she now? Not in thatgay crowd below, for he had scanned every figure with the hawk's eye.Closeted again, no doubt, with her ministers, wearying her tired brain,her brave heart into fatigue without rest.

  Her court still trembled with the excitement of the daring attemptof the abductors and their swift punishment. Functionaries flocked toEdelweiss to inquire after the welfare of the Princess, and indignationwas at the highest pitch. There were theories innumerable as to theidentity of the arch-conspirator. Baron Dangloss was at sea completely.He cursed himself and everybody else for the hasty and ill-timedexecution of the hirelings. It was quite evident that the buzzing wonderand intense feeling of the people had for the moment driven out allthought of the coming day of judgment and its bitter atonement for allGraustark. To-day the castle was full of the nobility, drawn to itswalls by the news that had startled them beyond all expression. Thepolice were at work, the military trembled with rage, the peopleclamored for the apprehension of the man who had been the instigator ofthis audacity. The general belief was that some brigand chief from thesouth had planned the great theft for the purpose of securing a fabulousransom. Grenfall Lorry had an astonishing theory in his mind, and themore he thought it over the more firmly it was imbedded.

  The warm, blue coils from the cigar wafted away into the night, carryingwith them a myriad of tangled thoughts,--of her, of Axphain, of theabductor, of himself, of everything. A light step on the stone floor ofthe shadowy balcony attracted his attention. He turned his head and sawthe Princess Yetive. She was walking slowly toward the balustrade, notaware of his presence. There was no covering for the dark hair, nowrap about the white shoulders. She wore an exquisite gown of white,shimmering with the reflections from the moon that scaled the mountaintop. She stood at the balustrade, her hands clasping a bouquet of redroses, her chin lifted, her eyes gazing toward the mountain's crest,the prettiest picture he had ever seen. The strange dizziness of loveoverpowered him. His hungry eyes glanced upward towards the sky whichshe was blessing with her gaze, and beheld another picture, gloomy,grim, cheerless.

  Against the moonlit screen of the universe clung the black tower ofthat faraway monastery in the clouds, the home of the monks of SaintValentine. Out of the world, above the world, a part of the sky itself,it stood like the spectre of a sentinel whose ghostly guardian shipappalled and yet soothed.

  He could not, would not move. To have done so meant the desecration ofa picture so delicate that a breath upon its surface would have sweptit forever from the vision. How long he revelled in the glory of thepicture he knew not, for it was as if he looked from a dream. At lasthe saw her look down upon the roses, lift them slowly and drop them overthe rail. They fell to the ground below. He thought he understood; thegift of a prince despised.

  They were not twenty feet apart. He advanced to her side, his hat inone hand, his stick--the one that felled the Viennese--trembling in theother.

  "I did not know you were here," she exclaimed, in half frightenedamazement. "I left my ladies inside."

  He was standing beside her, looking down into the eyes.

  "And I am richer because of your ignorance," he said, softly. "I haveseen a picture that shall never leave my memory--never! Its beautyenthralled, enraptured. Then I saw the drama of the roses. Ah, yourHighness, the crown is not always a mask."

  "The roses were--were of no consequence," she faltered.

  "I have heard how you stand between two suitors and that wretchedtreaty. My heart has ached to tell you how I pity you."

  "It is not pity I need, but courage. Pity will not aid me in my duty,Mr. Lorry. It stands plainly before me, this duty, but I have not thecourage to take it up and place it about my neck forever."

  "You do not, cannot love this Lorenz?" he asked.

  "Love him!" she cried. "Ach, I forget! You do not know him. Yet I shalldoubtless be his wife." There was an eternity of despair in that low,steady voice.

  "You shall not! I swear you shall not!"

  "Oh, he is a prince! I must accept the offer that means salvation toGraustark. Why do you make it harder with torture which you think iskindness? Listen to me. Next week I am to give my answer. He will behere, in this castle. My father brought this calamity upon Graustark; Imust lift it from the people. What has my happiness to do with it?"

  Her sudden strength silenced him, crushed him wi
th the real awakeningof helplessness. He stood beside her, looking up at the cold monastery,strangely conscious that she was gazing toward the same dizzy height.

  "It looks so peaceful up there," she said at last.

  "But so cold and cheerless," he added, drearily. There was another longsilence in which two hearts communed through the medium of that farawaysentinel. "They have not discovered a clue to the chief abductor, havethey?" he asked, in an effort to return to his proper sphere.

  "Baron Dangloss believes he has a clue--a meager and unsatisfactoryone, he admits--and to-day sent officers to Ganlook to investigatethe actions of a strange man who was there last week, a man who styledhimself the Count of Arabazon, and who claimed to be of Vienna. SomeAustrians had been hunting stags and bears in the north, however, and itis possible he is one of them." She spoke slowly, her eyes still bent onthe home of the monks.

  "Your highness, I have a theory, a bold and perhaps a criminal theory,but you will allow me to tell you why I am possessed of it. I am awarethat there is a Prince Gabriel. It is my opinion that no Viennese isguilty, nor are the brigands to be accused of this masterpiece in crime.Have you thought how far a man may go to obtain his heart's desire?"

  She looked at him instantly, her eyes wide with growing comprehension,the solution to the mystery darting into her mind like a flash.

  "You mean--" she began, stopping as if afraid to voice the suspicion.

  "That Prince Gabriel is the man who bought your guards and hired Geddosand Ostrom to carry you to the place where he could own you, whether youwould or no," said Lorry.

  "But he could never have forced me to marry him, and I should, sooner orlater, have exposed him," she whispered, argumentatively. "He couldnot expect me to be silent and submit to a marriage under suchcircumstances. He knows that I would denounce him, even at the altar."

  "You do not appreciate my estimate of that gentleman."

  "What is to become of me!" she almost sobbed, in an anguish of fear. "Isee now--I see plainly! It was Gabriel, and he would have done as yousay." A shudder ran through her figure and he tenderly whispered in herear:

  "The danger is past. He can do no more, your Highness. Were I positivethat he is the man--and I believe he is--I would hunt him down thisnight."

  Her eyes closed happily under his gaze, her hand dropped timidly fromhis arm and a sweet sense of security filled her soul.

  "I am not afraid," she murmured.

  "Because I am here?" he asked, bending nearer.

  "Because God can bless with the same hand that punishes," she answered,enigmatically, lifting her lashes again and looking into his eyes witha love at last unmasked. "He gives me a man to love and denies mehappiness. He makes of me a woman, but He does not unmake me a princess.Through you, He thwarts a villain; through you, He crushes the innocent.More than ever, I thank you for coming into my life. You and you alone,guided by the God who loves and despises me, saved me from Gabriel."

  "I only ask--" he began, eagerly, but she interrupted.

  "You should not ask anything, for I have said I cannot pay. I owe to youall I have, but cannot pay the debt."

  "I shall not again forget," he murmured.

  "To-morrow, if you like, I will take you over the castle and let yousee the squalor in which I exist,--my throne room, my chapel, my banquethall, my ball room, my conservatory, my sepulchre. You may say it iswealth, but I shall call it poverty," she said, after they had watchedthe black monastery cut a square corner from the moon's circle.

  "To-morrow, if you will be so kind."

  "Perhaps I may be poorer after I have saved Graustark," she said.

  "I would to God I could save you from that!" he said.

  "I would to God you could," she said. Her manner changed suddenly. Shelaughed gaily, turning a light face to his. "I hear your friend's laughout there in the darkness. It is delightfully infectious."