On the Night of the Seventh Moon

  “We can’t disobey an order from the Count, not until you’re recognized, you know. But he didn’t say anything about your going alone. Though I doubt not that he has that in mind. I know Fredi. I’ll come with you.”

  I was glad of her company; she always brought a touch of lightness into everything that happened. Her intense interest in what was going on and her determination to extract the ultimate excitement from it was infectious.

  “Fredi won’t be very pleased to see me,” she chuckled. “But Maxi left you in my care, remember, and I’m not one to forget my obligations.”

  Her eyes danced with excitement. I believed she would rather have something tragic happen than nothing at all.

  We reached the Count’s schloss. It was not unlike the ducal one, being only slightly less grand.

  “Fredi imagines himself the Duke,” grunted Frau Graben. “As I’ve said to him more than once in the old days, as long as he keeps it to his imagination I’ll not quarrel with that.”

  We passed the sentries who all knew Frau Graben, and went into the Rittersaal where a servant in the splendid livery of the Count’s household—as grand as the traditional ducal one and scarcely any different—took us into an anteroom.

  The Count himself joined us there. His eyes narrowed when they saw Frau Graben.

  “You! You old meddler,” he said.

  “Now, Fredi, remember whom you’re talking to.”

  “I did not send for you.”

  “Naturally I came. I can’t have young ladies from my household visiting unescorted.”

  Although he was angry, I saw that she could still extract some sort of obedience from him. She could by a word or a look transport both the Count and Maximilian back to their childhood. She must have been a powerful force in the nursery, and that power lingered. She exasperated them but still kept that hold on their affections. This undoubtedly proved the truth of her observations about people. There were so many different sides to their characters and the Count, who was undoubtedly an unscrupulous man, could remember the affection he had for his old nurse.

  “You wanted to see Miss Trant. Well, I’ve brought her to you.”

  “You will wait here,” he said to her. “Miss Trant will come with me.”

  She could say nothing to that and I must go with him; but it was a great comfort to know that she was waiting for me.

  He shut the door firmly on her and I followed him up a wide staircase to a small paneled room. There was a window in the embrasure with window seats and the magnificent views, which had become almost a commonplace, were evident.

  “Now, Miss Trant,” he said, “pray be seated.” He brought a chair for me and placed it so that the bright light from the window was on my face. He seated himself in the window seat, the light behind him. He folded his arms and studied me intently.

  “How are the children progressing with their lessons?” A question which he had not brought me here to answer, I knew.

  I told him that they were progressing satisfactorily.

  “I have become very interested in their studies . . . since you arrived.” There was a gleam of humor in his face. He was implying, of course, that he was interested in me.

  “It is a fair distance to Klocksburg and I am a busy man. I should like to see more of them, so I am going to suggest that they come here.”

  “I think it would be a mistake to move them,” I said quickly.

  “Indeed? Why so?”

  “Klocksburg has always been their home. The servants are familiar to them.”

  “They can always visit Klocksburg and I do not wish them to become attached to servants.”

  “They feel very secure under Frau Graben’s rule.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” he said grimly. “But I want the boys to be men, not little chickens cowering under the old hen’s wing. Moreover, it would be pleasant to see more of you, Miss Trant. You are a very interesting woman.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. Thank the powers above that made you so.”

  I stood up. “I think I will leave now.”

  “Spoken like a . . . Duchess! My God, you have the air! You have acquired that since you’ve been here. Of course, you were always ready to express your disapproval. Remember our first meeting? But you have changed since then. It is since my cousin returned.”

  I moved toward the door but he was beside me. He had gripped my arm.

  “I should be glad if you would remove your hand.”

  “Come, Miss Trant, it is not the first time you have been touched.”

  “You are insolent.”

  “Forgive me . . . Duchess.” He brought his face close to mine. “I know a great deal about you, you see.” He did not release my arm and I was uncomfortably aware of his brute masculinity. I thought gratefully of Frau Graben.

  “If you do not release me this instant . . .”

  “What will you do?”

  “I will see that the Duke . . .”

  “My noble cousin is far away. When he returns you will report to him that I have dared lay hands on what is his. Is that so?” His cruel face was close to mine. “I know a great deal about you, my dear mock Duchess. You were acquainted with our Maximilian years ago, were you not? You came here to seek him out. You wanted to renew that interesting liaison which took place a number of years ago. It seems an unusual story to you, but to us it is common enough. I have even played it out myself. A simple country maid who is ignorant of the ways of the world. She guards her virtue as a sacred thing, and so a mock marriage is necessary.”

  “You are wrong,” I was stung into replying. “There was no mock marriage.”

  “Still deluded, Miss Trant?”

  “How do you know of this?”

  “My dear Miss Trant, I have a way of discovering what I want to know. I have my spies and they work well for me. You surely do not believe that my cousin is really married to you!” I did not answer and he went on: “Ah, I see you do. You really believe that. Do you think that even he would be such a fool? How easy it is, you would not believe how easy. A simple ceremony, a friend who obligingly poses as a priest. My dear Miss Trant, it has been done a thousand times in the past and will doubtless be done a thousand times more.”

  “I cannot discuss the matter.”

  “Much as I wish to please you, we cannot always talk only of what gratifies you.”

  “Why have you brought me here to tell me this?”

  “This was just en passant. I have brought you here to tell you that the children are to take up their quarters here and you, as their teacher of English, will naturally accompany them. I can promise you as pleasant a time here as you enjoy in Klocksburg. What have you to say to that?”

  “I have nothing to say.”

  “That means you will prepare to leave Klocksburg immediately.”

  “I shall not leave Klocksburg.”

  “Do you mean you are resigning your post?”

  “I should do so if you insisted on the children’s coming here.”

  “And what of Fritz, your special protégé?”

  I flinched. I couldn’t help it. I had a horrible vision of what his sadistic treatment could be to that boy. In the joy of Maximilian’s return had I neglected Fritz a little?

  I had no fear for myself. Maximilian would protect me from this man, but even when there was no longer need to keep our marriage secret, Fritz would still be in his power. I had allowed myself to become deeply involved with the boy. He needed me and I knew I had done a great deal for him.

  The Count was watching me slyly, reading my thoughts. He put his face close to mine. “You have a deep feeling for that son of mine, Miss Trant,” he said. “I like it. It shows me what a warmhearted woman you are. It increases my admiration for you. You will come here and continue to look after him. There is no reason why you and I should not become great friends. You could reason with me, if you thought I was too harsh with the boy. You would be able to apply your maternal instincts,
would you not? Oh, Miss Trant, you are a wonderful woman. I will tell you frankly—I adore you.”

  “I wish to leave now.”

  “And you will consider my proposition. Don’t think too much about that incident of the past, will you? Max and I are very much alike. We always were. Brought up together, we developed similar tastes. That diabolical Graben will tell you that. As for that affair in the hunting lodge—be reasonable. I shouldn’t like you to attach too much importance to it. It was a commonplace in the past and is not so very unusual in the present. And just suppose it were not a mock ceremony. What do you think would be the result of that? I can tell you. Trouble! Big trouble! And with Klarenbock. Do you think the people of that state would stand calmly by and accept the degradation of their Princess? And even if they did, what would be the reaction of the people here? They would never accept you, a foreigner of no rank, however attractive you might be. Do you know what would happen? The end of Maximilian. At best he would be deposed. You would not want to make such a disaster for him, for our little Rochenstein. But praise be, it was not so. The ceremony in the hunting lodge was like others before it. They never shook the foundations of the dukedom, so why should this?”

  It was our secret no longer. It was out and known to the man who was, I felt certain, our most dangerous enemy.

  I must get away to think.

  I heard him say: “In due course a carriage will come for you and the children. I look forward to receiving you here. You and I will then be able to continue our interesting friendship more comfortably. That will give me the greatest pleasure.”

  I told Frau Graben as the carriage took us back to Klocksburg.

  “Take the children! I never heard of such a thing.”

  “He says that is what he will do. And he knows about the ceremony in the hunting lodge! He said that was a mock marriage!”

  “He’s lying. Maxi was never a liar. Fredi would lie himself out of any trouble. I know him well.”

  “He was very offensive to me and I am afraid for Fritz.”

  “He wants you because Maxi loves you. He was always like that. He must have what Maxi had. It was an obsession with him. But you’ll not go to that Schloss of his.”

  “No,” I agreed. “But what of Fritz?”

  Frau Graben narrowed her eyes. “He’ll not have the children there. The Countess would never allow it. She’s the one person he’s afraid of. She’d never have her husband’s illegitimate children in her Schloss. I’m certain of that. He’s a bluffer, our Fredi.”

  “He knows about the ceremony. How could he have discovered?”

  “Spies . . . everywhere. He’s as troublesome as his father was. We’re going to have trouble with him. I wasn’t stern enough in the nursery.”

  “He has a certain respect for you that he doesn’t seem to have for anyone else.”

  She nodded smiling.

  “And,” I went on, “he says that if it were known that I were Maximilian’s wife the people would revolt. They’d not accept me and Maximilian would be deposed.”

  “Indeed! And Master Fredi would step in to take the dukedom, eh?”

  “He did not go so far as to say that.”

  “It’s in his mind. It’s always been there, rankling. That’s what he’s after and he’d stop at nothing to get it. He wants you, too, you and the dukedom. Everything that’s Maxi’s must be his. I’ve heard too that he’s tired of his innkeeper’s daughter. That was one of his longest affairs. Her father didn’t like it at all, poor man. He doted on her; she’s the only child. But Fredi comes along and must have his way. Poor girl. Oh, we’ve got to watch Master Fredi.”

  “I long for Maximilian to come back.”

  “Well that,” she replied with her bland smile, “is right and proper, seeing that he’s your lawful husband. All we can do is wait. Something’s going to happen soon. I feel that in my bones—and it’s going to be something big.”

  I had rarely seen her so excited.

  I was very anxious that the children should not hear that the Count had said they were to leave Klocksburg. The more I thought of that the more inclined I was to agree with Frau Graben. His Countess, whom I had glimpsed briefly, had the appearance of a very determined woman, and I did not think Frau Graben was far wrong in saying that she would never accept the Count’s illegitimate offspring in the Schloss where her son was being brought up. Yes, he was bluffing. But there was no doubt that he had learned that there had been some ceremony between myself and Maximilian all those years ago.

  The boys were clamoring to see the royal tomb and the afternoon following the day I had been summoned to the Count’s Schloss we went to the Island of Graves. Liesel had not come with us but had stayed behind with Frau Graben.

  There was a boat at the moorings and the boys declared they wished to row across themselves rather than wait for old Charon to come and take them over. There was a bit of a squabble as to which one should take the oars.

  I suggested that we should toss a coin and decide who should row us over and the other one could row us back. This they agreed to. Dagobert won the toss and rowed us over with Fritz watching him carefully to make sure that his strokes were perfect.

  As we scrambled ashore Charon came out of his house to greet us. He stood before us, his eyes peering at us through the wrinkled flesh.

  “ ’Tas been a sad day since you were last here,” he said, looking at me.

  He gave me his hand. I remembered how dry and cold it had been on that other occasion. It still was.

  “And you’ve come to see the royal grave.” I remembered the hollow ring of his voice. “We’ve had visitors lately. ’Tis always the same when one of the Family comes to the last resting place.”

  I was one of the Family now, and it might be that one day what was left of me would be lying on this Island.

  “Come with me,” said Charon. “Come, young masters. I’ll show you where the old Duke lies. May God rest his soul.”

  I walked beside him, the boys following. They were unusually solemn. No doubt they felt as I did—that we were in the presence of Death.

  Dagobert said: “Have you found someone to train to take your place, Franz?”

  “I’m all alone on the Island as I have been these many years,” was the answer.

  “I do wonder who’s going to look after all these dead people when you’re dead too.”

  “It will be solved,” said Charon.

  “All these dead people,” mused Dagobert. “They do want someone to look after them. I reckon everyone would be afraid to live here, except you, Franz. Are you afraid?”

  “The dead have been my companions too long for me to fear them, master.”

  “Would you like to be here alone when it’s dark, Fritz?” demanded Dagobert. Fritz hesitated and Dagobert accused him: “You know you wouldn’t. You’d be frightened. You’d scream when all the ghosts got out of their tombs . . .”

  “You know you wouldn’t like to be here alone after dark either, Dagobert,” I said, “and as neither of you is going to be, there’s no point in talking about it.”

  “I wouldn’t mind,” boasted Dagobert. “I’d sit on the gravestones and I’d say, ‘Come out and see me. I’m not afraid of you!’ ”

  “And you would be just like the rest of us,” I told him.

  “Perhaps they’re afraid too,” said Fritz. “I wouldn’t like to be down in the ground with a lot of earth on top of me.”

  “That’s no way to talk,” I admonished. “Those flowers are very beautiful.”

  “Planted only a few hours after His Grace was laid to rest,” said Franz.

  We had come to the grand avenue and there was the new grave covered with flowers. The grand effigies and statues had not yet been erected.

  The boys stood and gazed solemnly at it.

  “Do people ever get buried who are not dead?” asked Dagobert.

  “What a question! Who would bury people before they were dead?” I said lightly.

  ??
?Some people have been buried alive. In monasteries they used to put them in a wall and build round them.”

  “Now you’ve seen the Duke’s grave. Wouldn’t you like to visit your mothers’?”

  They would naturally do so and we left the grand burial ground for that other. Charon accompanied us; he looked as one would imagine the boatman of the Styx with his black robes flapping round him and gray locks straggling out from under his skullcap—a messenger of Death.

  “I want you to be careful of the new grave,” he said.

  “A new grave!” Dagobert’s eyes sparkled. “Whose grave?”

  “I dug it this morning,” said Charon.

  “May we see it?” asked Fritz.

  Charon pointed. “It’s close by. There are wooden planks across it.”

  “I want to see down,” said Fritz.

  “Young masters, be careful. Don’t go falling down. Why you could break a leg.”

  They were eager to see. I followed them over to the grave and Charon lifted the planks and we looked down into the deep dark hole.

  I felt the goose pimples rise on my skin. I suppose it was due to the thought that soon a coffin would be lowered down there and another life would be over. I felt as they say at home, that someone was walking over my grave.

  “Who is to be buried there?” I asked.

  “A young woman,” replied Charon shaking his head. “Too young to die. She’s the daughter of the innkeeper in the town.”

  I knew who she was then—another of those unfortunate women. The Count had favored her for a short while and then discarded her. I knew that she had taken her own life and the favor shown her had led her, as it had led others before her, to the Island of Graves.

  I felt a great desire to get away from the place.

  All that day the tension seemed to be mounting. I was waiting for I knew not what. Of one thing I was certain. This state of affairs could not last. I was listening for the sound of a horse’s hoofs on the road. Maximilian might come. How I longed for him—not only for the joy his presence always gave me, but because I desperately wished to tell him of my mounting fears. And if the sounds from without should be those of a carriage and there should be an imperative demand from the Count that the children should leave, what should I do? I would not go—and yet how could I allow Fritz to go without me? My mind was working on wild plans to keep Fritz behind. I must pretend he was ill. No, that would not work again. But I must find a way.