CHAPTER XVII
LOVE, HONOR AND OBEY
The princess paused and bent her head until it almost touched me. Iwaited, wondering how it could be that the czar still lived. When deathwas so near, within a few inches of his face, what could have savedhim?
"Hush!" she continued. "The end is not yet--not quite yet. You pulledthe trigger, but the charge in the pistol did not explode. That is whatyou thought, when you leaped backward and raised the hammer for anothertrial. But it was even worse than that, for there was no charge toexplode; the pistol was not loaded. Your poor mind, so overburdened,had forgotten the most necessary thing of all, and you had not preparedyour weapon for the work it had to do. You discovered your error toolate; but the czar had discovered it also."
"He was bigger and stronger than you. With a bound he was upon you. Heseized the pistol and tore it from your grasp, and then, while he heldyou--for you were still weak and he always was a giant--he struck youwith it, bringing it down again and again upon your unprotected head,until your brains were battered out, and were spattered upon the floor,the walls, and even the ceiling of the room. And then, when you werequite dead, killed by the hand of the czar himself, when he for once inhis life was spattered with real blood, with blood that he had shed inperson and not by deputy, His Imperial Majesty staggered to the door,called for assistance, and fainted."
Again she left me, this time crossing the room and throwing herselfupon a couch, where she cried softly, like one who has an incurablesorrow which must at times break out in tears. After all, tears are thesafety valves of nervous expansion, and there are times when they savethe heart and the brain from bursting. I knew that, and I left her toherself. But I also believed that she had not yet told me quite all;that there must be a sequel to all this, and I was soon to hear it.After watching her for a long time, I left my seat and went to her.
She raised her head from the pillow, and looked at me, and I have neverseen such a combination of emotions expressed in one glance, as therewas in her eyes at that instant. Love for me, sympathy for the fate ofthe man whose story she had told, sorrow for that poor sister.
"There is more?" I asked.
"Very little more. I have not yet told you why I am a nihilist, andthat is what this story is for. Yvonne was my most intimate friend. Iloved her as I would have loved--no,--better than I could have loved asister. Her brother Stanislaus, was my betrothed. We were to have beenmarried within the year when Yvonne was taken away. Now you know all";and she turned her head away again. I could see that she had dreadedthis confession.
"No, not all, yet," I said. "What became of the officer who made allthe trouble?"
"He returned," she replied, without again raising her eyes.
"Where is he now?"
"He is here."
"Here? In St. Petersburg?"
"Yes."
"Do you know him? Do you see him?"
"Yes, frequently. He was here last night."
"Will you tell me his name?"
"No."
"Shall I tell it to you?"
"Shall you tell it to me! Do you mean to say that you know it?"
"I can guess it."
"Well?"
"He is a nihilist. He has just returned to the city. All these years hehas been absent, and had Stanislaus waited for his coming your story,and mine also, would have had a different ending. But Stanislaus didnot wait. The man you mean is Captain Alexis Durnief."
She started bolt upright.
"You knew it? You knew it?" she cried. "Tell me how you knew it?"
"I guessed it only just now. I guessed it from the expression of youreyes when you greeted him last night, that is, coupling that expressionwith the recital of to-day, and with one or two hints of his characterthat I gleaned from him. He is the man?"
"Yes. He--is--the--man!!!"
"And you receive him here?"
"I cannot help it. My hands are tied."
"How are they tied?"
"You have already said."
"Yes? How?"
"He is a nihilist. He does not know that I am aware of all his foulnessand villainy. He has been assured that I do not know it! And"--here sheleaped to her feet and confronted me like an enraged tigress--"he hasthe effrontery to pretend that he is in love with me, and to believethat I can love him. Pah!"
"And you?" I asked.
"I?"
She crossed the room, but turned and retraced her steps, reseatingherself upon the couch. She was smiling now. Her composure had returnedthough she was still pale, and there were deep rings under her eyeswhich told of the suffering she had undergone.
"Until you came I had thought that I would marry him," said she,calmly. I was more utterly amazed than I could have supposed possible.
"Indeed?" I remarked, raising my brows, but otherwise not showing thesurprise I felt. Here was still another phase of the character of thewoman I loved so madly. But I could see that she spoke in the pasttense; of something no longer considered.
"Yes; I thought that. Why not? It seemed the only way by which I couldsecure the revenge I believed I must have. I could have obtained it inthat way. Long ago he sheltered himself from anything that I could do,under the cloak of our order. I could have married him, and in sixmonths have tortured him into the grave; or, if that had failed, Icould have poisoned him. Ah! did you ever hate--truly hate--anybody? Ifyou never did, you cannot imagine the rage that has been in my heartagainst those two men. No, they are not men; they are beasts,reptiles." So she spoke of Alexis Durnief and Alexander, the czar. Icould scarcely recognize this woman who could hate others with suchintensity.
"Do you think, princess," I said, slowly, "that if Stanislaus werealive, he would approve of such a method of taking revenge for thewrong done to him, and to his sister?" I asked the questionimpersonally, and without any resentment in my tone, or manner. Indeed,I felt none. We were referring to a possibility that was now as far inthe past as were the incidents of the story she had related. But Idesired to probe that other side of her, the vengeful one, as deeply aspossible, and when she did not reply, I added: "Do you think he wouldhave rested contentedly in his grave, if you had become the wife of theman who wronged him most, no matter what your purpose might be?"
"No," she said. "I do not. But I had not thought of it in that light. Iremembered only Yvonne--and him."
"Zara, did you love Stanislaus?"
She sighed deeply. She raised her eyes to mine, and she stretched fortha tentative hand for me to clasp, and hold. My touch gave her a senseof personal protection.
"How you probe the innermost secrets of one's heart, Dubravnik," shesmiled at me. "I will tell you the truth, and the whole truth. It isbecause I never loved him, because I never knew and appreciated hisworth, until he was dead, that I believed that I could not live andbear the thought that he should continue unavenged, while AlexisDurnief, the perpetrator of such outrages, appeared boldly here at St.Petersburg, and even dared to make love to me. I was a girl then, and Idid not appreciate all the love that was lavished upon me. I am a womannow, and you have taught me what love is. I am not the same creature,now, that I was a few short hours ago. You have changed the world forme, for you have made what was once a hell, a heaven of sweetthoughts."
"Zara, had you already abandoned the insane idea of becoming Durnief'swife, before we referred to it, now?"
"Yes, I never really entertained it. It only occurred to me as a meansof accomplishing an end. I hate the man so, for all he did to Yvonne;and when he dared to raise his hopes to me, knowing that I had been hernearest and dearest friend, knowing also that I was once pledged toStanislaus, I was filled with a bitter hatred more terrible than wordscan describe. Oh, if you knew the bitterness of one who is used onlyfor a tool, because she happens to possess beauty. But you cannot know;you cannot guess."
"True, I do not know; but I can guess. Remember, I heard what you saidto your brother, on this same subject, in the garden."
"Ah!"
Like a flash
of light through the darkness, my own peril returned toher.
"You! What are you going to do?" she exclaimed.
"I am going about my daily duty just as though nothing had happened," Ireplied.
"Those men out there are waiting to kill you. Come! Let us see if theyare there still."
We went to the window together and peered out. The _karetta_ wasstill waiting.
"Tell me your true name again," she demanded, rather irrelevantly Ithought, as we drew back. "You told me, but I have forgotten. To me youare Dubravnik; but I suppose I must learn the other one."
"You must learn how to answer to it, also, for it is to be yours aswell as mine." Then I mentioned it, and she repeated it after meseveral times, under her breath.
"Do you know of any way, no matter how, to escape those men who arewaiting outside?" she asked.
"Yes," I replied, "I know of one."
"What is it?"
"I can have them arrested where they are--every one of them; that is,if one of your servants can be induced to carry a message a shortdistance, for me."
"He would be stopped. The message would be taken from him, and read."
"He would be permitted to go on again, for the message would meannothing to those who stopped him. It would be in cipher, and assistancewould not be long in coming, once it were delivered. Men in whom I canimplicitly trust would soon clear the streets for us. We would havenothing to fear after that."
"Then you _are_ connected with the police, Dubravnik." But when shemade the statement I noticed with joy that there was no suggestion ofher former displeasure. There was no indication now that she would loveme the less because I was associated with the powers she had beentaught all her life to abhor.
"No, Zara, not with the police. I have nothing to do with them, norwith any department of that service. The men I shall send for are noteven Russians; and they serve me, not this government. They will serveyou, as well."
"I believe you, dear one; forgive me. You shall have the messenger."
"You have forgotten one thing, princess."
"What?"
"Your own danger."
She shrugged her shoulders and laughed at that. It was a return to theZara I had first known. "I have forgotten much since you came," shesaid. "In what way am I in danger?"
"If those men are arrested, they will know that you have betrayed themto me. Their friends will know it, also."
"You mistake. I had not forgotten that. But I have remembered that youare here to protect me, Dubravnik. What have I to fear when you arenear me?" It was sweet indeed to hear her say such words, sweeter stillto realize the full import of them. But there was a phase of ourpresent dilemma which had not yet claimed her attention, but regardingwhich it was necessary to remind her. Her brother Ivan was doubtlessone of the assassins, waiting outside.
"What of Ivan, your brother?" I asked her.
She raised her eyes and looked at me, startled, and they were suddenlymoist with unshed tears. There was that same indescribable pain inthem, that I had noticed several times since our interview began; thatsame expression which I could not fathom. But the explanation wasready.
"I have found that there comes a time in a woman's life," she saidslowly, "when all her pet theories fall flat and useless, and whenevery idol that she has worshipped is demolished. Let us not talk ofthe danger to me. Let us not even speak of my brother, until themessage is prepared for my servant to carry."
"No, Zara," I told her, with decision. "I do not understand what youmeant, just now, when you referred to the demolition of your pettheories. But it is imperative that we should speak of your brother."
"What of him?"
"Is it not more than possible that he is one of the men out there whoare waiting for me?"
"Yes, it is. I had forgotten that. But----"
"He would be caught in the net with the others. He would suffer thesame fate that fell to them. Are you willing to run the risk of hisbeing there? He has been to Siberia once, you tell me. Are you willingthat he should go there again?"
"No, oh, no!" she cried. "No; that must not be."
"You see, then, how impossible it is for you to give me a messenger,unless you can promise for Ivan as well as for yourself."
"Promise? And for Ivan? What promise need I make for him? If he isthere shall he not take his chance with those who are with him? But no,no. You are right, Dubravnik. I cannot let him be captured, perhapskilled, in this way," she said brokenly. "I cannot sacrifice Ivan.Cannot you see how I am suffering? Even though I try with all mystrength to conceal it, can't you see it? Is there not some other way?Is there not something that can be done? Will you not help me? GreatGod! Must my brother be sent back to the hell of Siberia--or mustyou----"
"Zara," I interrupted her, deliberately taking a step backwards andputting my hands behind me, fearing that I might clasp her in my armsin spite of my resolution to remain calm and to continue to be masterof the situation, "I think there is another way; I believe thatsomething can be done; I will help you; I do see why you suffer. Youare torn by so many conflicting desires, child; you do not know whichway to turn. Here am I, your lover; out yonder, waiting to kill me, isyour brother. But, dear, if you will trust to me, and will obey meimplicitly in all that I direct you to do, there is a way, and neitheryou nor your brother shall come to harm. Will you trust to me?"
"Yes, oh, yes," she cried unhesitatingly. "What am I to do?"
"Call the servant who is to take the message."
She turned to the door without another word, and disappeared beyond it.The moment she was gone, I took a fountain pen and a pad of paper frommy pocket, and wrote rapidly--or seemed to write, for the pen left notrace upon the paper.
My invisible note was completed and I was writing with another pen upona second sheet of paper when the princess reentered the room. This timethe writing was plainly visible, and while I asked her for an envelopeI passed it to her to read.
It was addressed to my friend Canfield who had charge of the messengerservice, and merely instructed him to "forward the packages that hadbeen left with him that morning" to their several addresses withoutdelay. It was signed, "Dubravnik."
"Is this the note my servant is to take?" she asked, incredulously.
"Yes."
I folded the apparently blank sheet with the other and placed them bothin the envelope which I had already addressed.
"You see there is no harm in that note, even if the men outside shouldread it," I added, when the servant had departed. "Your man, who is ofcourse a spy, will read the note, which I purposely left unsealed, assoon as he is out of sight of the house. In an hour every man who iswaiting to take my life will be in prison. If your brother is amongthem, he will not be harmed and you----"
I hesitated, and she raised her eyes to mine and said:
"Well, and I?"
"You will have to do as you have agreed to do, obey me." I hesitatedagain and then with a desperate courage, added: "Love, honor, and obeyme."