Page 17 of His Hour


  CHAPTER XVII

  Tamara had just begun to dress when her godmother came into her roomnext day.

  "There is going to be a terrible snow storm, dear," she said. "I thinkwe should get down fairly early and suggest to Gritzko that we startback to Moscow before lunch. It is no joke to be caught in this wildcountry. I will send you in Katia."

  Tamara's maid had been left in Petersburg, and indeed her godmother's,an elderly Russian accustomed to these excursions, had been the onlyone brought.

  "I won't be more than half an hour dressing," she said. "Don't go downwithout me, Marraine."

  And the Princess promised and returned to her room.

  "It has been a real success, our little outing, has it not?" she said,when later they were descending the stairs. "Gritzko has been so quietand nice. I am so happy, dear child, that you can go away now withoutthat uncomfortable feeling of quarreling. There was one moment when hegot up from behind your chair last night I feared you had angered himabout something, but afterward he was so gentle and charming when wetalked I felt quite reassured."

  "Yes, indeed," feebly responded Tamara. "The party has been positivelytame!"

  They found their host had gone with Jack and the rest of the men to thestables to inspect his famous teams. But Princess Sonia and CountessOlga were already down. They were smoking lazily, and had almostsuggested a double dummy of their favorite game.

  They hailed the two with delight, and soon the four began a rubber, andTamara, who hated it, had to keep the whole of her attention to try andavoid making some mistake.

  Thus an hour past, and first Stephen Strong and then the other men camein.

  Jack Courtray was enthusiastic about the horses, and indeed the wholething. He and Gritzko had arranged to go on a bear-hunt the followingweek, and everything looked _couleur de rose_--except the sky, thatcontinued covered with an inky pall.

  The Princess beckoned to Gritzko and took him aside. She explained herfears about the storm, and the necessity of an earlier start, to whichhe agreed.

  "I am going to ask you to let us take Katia with us, we have only theone maid, and must have her in Moscow when we arrive," she said.

  So thus it was arranged. The Princess and Stephen Strong and Katia wereto start first, and Sonia and her husband would take both Serge andValonne, leaving Gritzko to bring Tamara, Olga and Lord Courtray last.

  All through the early lunch, which was now brought in, nothing couldhave been more lamblike than their host. He exerted himself to besweetly agreeable to every one, and the Princess, generally so alert,felt tranquil and content, while Tamara almost experienced a sense ofregret.

  Only Count Valonne, if he had been asked, would have suggested--but hewas not officious and kept his ideas to himself.

  The snow now began to fall, just a few thin flakes, but it made themhurry their departure.

  In the general chatter and chaff no one noticed that Gritzko had neveronce spoken directly to Tamara, but she was conscious of it, andinstead of its relieving her, she felt a sudden depression.

  "You will be quite safe with Olga and your friend, dearest," thePrincess whispered to her as she got into the first troika which cameround. "And we shall be only just in front of you."

  So they waved adieu.

  Then Princess Sonia's party started. The cold was intense, and as theteam of blacks had not yet appeared, the host suggested the two ladiesshould go back and wait in the saloon.

  "Don't you think our way of herding in parties here is quiteridiculous," he said to Jack, when Olga and Tamara were gone. "Afterthe rest get some way on, I'll have round the brown team too. It isgoing to be a frightful storm, and we shall go much better with onlytwo in each sleigh."

  Jack was entirely of his opinion, from his English point of view, aparty of four made two of them superfluous. Countess Olga and himselfwere quite enough. So he expressed his hearty approval of thisarrangement, and presently as they smoked on the steps, the three brownhorses trotted up.

  "I'll go and fetch Olga," Gritzko said, and as luck would have it hemet her at the saloon door.

  "I had forgotten my muff," she said, "and had just run up to fetch it."

  Then he explained to her about the storm and the load, and since it wasa question of duty to the poor horses, Countess Olga was delighted tolet pleasure go with it hand in hand. And she allowed herself to besettled under the furs, with Jack, without going back to speak toTamara. Indeed, Gritzko was so matter of fact she started without aqualm.

  "We shall overtake you in ten minutes," he said. "The blacks are muchthe faster team." And they gaily waved as they disappeared beyond thebend of the trees. Then he spoke to his faithful Ivan. "In a quarter ofan hour let the blacks come round." And there was again the gleam of apanther in his eyes as he glanced at the snow.

  All this while Tamara, seated by the saloon stove, was almost growinguneasy at being left so long alone. What could Olga be doing to staysuch a time?

  Then the door opened, and the Prince came in.

  "We must start now," he said, in a coldly polite tone. "The storm iscoming, and four persons made too heavy a load; so Lord Courtray andOlga have gone on."

  Tamara's heart gave a great bound, but his face expressed nothing, andher sudden fear calmed.

  He was ceremoniously polite as he helped her in. Nor did he sit toonear her or change his manner one atom as they went along. He hardlyspoke; indeed they both had to crouch down in the furs to shelter fromthe blinding snow. And if Tamara had not been so preoccupied withkeeping her woollen scarf tight over her head she would have noticedthat when they left the park gate they turned to the right, in the fullstorm, not to the left, where it was clearer and which was the way theyhad come.

  At last the Prince said something to the coachman in Russian, and theman shook his head--the going was terribly heavy. They seemed to bemaking tracks for themselves through untrodden snow.

  "Stepan says we cannot possibly go much further, and we must shelter inthe shooting hut," Gritzko announced, gravely; and again Tamara felt atwinge of fear.

  "But what has become of the others?" she asked. "Why do we not seetheir tracks?"

  "They are obliterated in five minutes. You do not understand theRussian storm," he said.

  Tamara's heart now began to beat again rather wildly, but she reasonedwith herself; she was no coward, and indeed why had she any cause foralarm? No one could be more aloof than her companion seemed. She wasalready numb with cold too, and her common sense told her shelter ofany sort would be acceptable.

  They had turned into the forest by now, and the road--if road it couldbe called--was rather more distinct.

  It was a weird scene. The great giant pine trees, and the fine fallingflakes penetrating through, the quickly vanishing daylight, and themist rising from the steaming horses as they galloped along; whileStepan stood there urging them on like some northern pirate at a ship'sprow.

  At last the view showed the white frozen lake, and by it a rough loghut. They came upon it suddenly, so that Tamara could only realize itwas not large and rather low, when they drew up at the porch.

  At the time she was too frozen and miserable to notice that the Princeunlocked the door, but afterward she remembered she should have beenstruck by the strangeness of his having a key.

  He helped her out, and she almost fell she was so stiff with cold, andthen she found herself, after passing through a little passage, in awarm, large room. It had a stove at one end, and the walls, distemperedgreen, had antlers hung round. There was one plain oak table and abench behind it, a couple of wooden armchairs, a corner cupboard, andan immense couch with leather cushions, which evidently did for a bed,and on the floor were several wolf skins.

  The Prince made no explanation as to why there was a fire, he justhelped her off with her furs without a word; he hung them up on a pegand then divested himself of his own.

  He wore the brown coat to-day, and was handsome as a god. Then, afterhe had examined the stove and looked from the window,
he quietly leftthe room.

  The contrast of the heat after the intense cold without made a tinglingand singing in Tamara's ears. She was not sure, but thought she heardthe key turn in the lock. She started to her feet from the chair whereshe sat and rushed to try the door, and this time her heart again gavea terrible bound, and she stood sick with apprehension.

  The door was fastened from without.

  For a few awful moments which seemed an eternity, she was conscious ofnothing but an agonized terror. She could not reason or decide how toact. And then her fine courage came back, and she grew more calm.

  She turned to the window, but that was double, and tightly shut andfastened up. There was no other exit, only this one door. Findingescape hopeless, she sat down and waited the turn of events. Perhaps heonly meant to frighten her, perhaps there was some reason why the doormust be barred; perhaps there were bears in this terribly lonely place.

  She sat there reasoning with herself and controlling her nerves formoments which appeared like hours, and then she heard footsteps in thepassage, breaking the awful silence, and the door opened, and Gritzkostrode into the room.

  He locked it after him, and pocketed the key; then he faced her. Whatshe saw in his passionate eyes turned her lips gray with fear.

  And now everything of that subtle thing in womankind which resistscapture, came uppermost in Tamara's spirit. She loved him--but even soshe would not be taken.

  She stood holding on to the rough oak table like a deer at bay, herface deadly white, and her eyes wide and staring.

  Then stealthily the Prince drew nearer, and with a spring seized herand clasped her in his arms.

  "Now, now, you shall belong to me," he cried. "You are mine at last,and you shall pay for the hours of pain you have made me suffer!" andhe rained mad kisses on her trembling lips.

  A ghastly terror shook Tamara. This man whom she loved, to whom inhappier circumstances she might have ceded all that he asked, now onlyfilled her with frantic fear. But she would not give in, she wouldrather die than be conquered.

  "Gritzko--oh, Gritzko! please--please don't!" she cried, almostsuffocated.

  But she knew as she looked at him that he was beyond all hearing.

  His splendid eyes blazed with the passion of a wild beast. She knew ifshe resisted him he would kill her. Well, better death than thishideous disgrace.

  He held her from him for a second, and then lifted her in his arms.

  But with the strength of terrified madness she grasped his wounded arm,and in the second in which he made a sudden wince, she gave an eel-liketwist and slipped from his grasp, and as she did so she seized thepistol in his belt and stood erect while she placed the muzzle to herown white forehead.

  "Touch me again, and I will shoot!" she gasped, and sank down on thebench almost exhausted behind the rough wooden table.

  He made a step forward, but she lifted the pistol again to her head andleant her arm on the board to steady herself. And thus they glared atone another, the hunter and the hunted.

  "This is very clever of you, Madame," he said; "but do you think itwill avail you anything? You can sit like that all night, if you wish,but before dawn I will take you."

  Tamara did not answer.

  Then he flung himself on the couch and lit a cigarette, and all thatwas savage and cruel in him flamed from his eyes.

  "My God! what do you think it has been like since the beginning?" hesaid. "Your silly prudish fears and airs. And still I loved you--madlyloved you. And since the night when I kissed your sweet lips you havemade me go through hell--cold and provoking and disdainful, and lastnight when you defied me, then I determined you should belong to me byforce; and now it is only a question of time. No power in heaven orearth can save you--Ah! if you had been different, how happy we mighthave been! But it is too late; the devil has won, and soon I will dowhat I please."

  Tamara never stirred, and the strain of keeping the pistol to her headmade her wrist ache.

  For a long time there was silence, and the great heat caused a mist toswim before her eyes, and an overpowering drowsiness--Oh, heaven!--ifunconsciousness should come upon her!

  Then the daylight faded quite, and the Prince got up and lit a smalloil lamp and set it on the shelf. He opened the stove and let the glowfrom the door flood through the room.

  Then he sat down again.

  A benumbing agony crept over Tamara; her brain grew confused in thehot, airless room. It seemed as if everything swam round her. All shesaw clearly were Gritzko's eyes.

  There was a deathly silence, but for an occasional moan of the wind inthe pine trees. The drift of snow without showed white as it graduallyblocked the window.

  Were they buried here--under the snow? Ah! she must fight against thishorrible lethargy.

  It was a strange picture. The rough hut room with its skins andantlers; the fair, civilized woman, delicate and dainty in her softsilk blouse, sitting there with the grim Cossack pistol at herhead--and opposite her, still as marble, the conquering savage man,handsome and splendid in his picturesque uniform; and just the dullglow of the stove and the one oil lamp, and outside the moaning windand the snow.

  Presently Tamara's elbow slipped and the pistol jerked forward. In asecond the Prince had sprung into an alert position, but shestraightened herself, and put it back in its place, and he relaxed thetension, and once more reclined on the couch.

  And now there floated through Tamara's confused brain the thought thatperhaps it would be better to shoot in any case--shoot and have donewith it. But the instinct of her youth stopped her--suicide was a sin,and while she did not reason, the habit of this belief kept its holdupon her.

  So an hour passed in silence, then the agonizing certainty came uponher that there must be an end. Her arm had grown numb.

  Strange lights seemed to flash before her eyes--Yes,--surely--that wasGritzko coming toward her--!

  She gave a gasping cry and tried to pull the trigger, but it was stiff,her fingers had gone to sleep and refused to obey her. The pistoldropped from her nerveless grasp.

  So this was the end! He would win.

  She gave one moan--and fell forward unconscious upon the table.

  With a bound Gritzko leaped up, and seizing her in his arms carried herinto the middle of the room. Then he paused a moment to exult in histriumph.

  Her little head, with its soft brown hair from which the fur cap hadfallen, lay helpless on his breast. The pathetic white face, with itschildish curves and long eyelashes, resting on her cheek, made nomovement. The faint, sweet scent of a great bunch of violets crushed inher belt came up to him.

  And as he fiercely bent to kiss her white, unconscious lips, suddenlyhe drew back and all the savage exultation went out of him.

  He gazed at her for a moment, and then carried her tenderly to thecouch and laid her down. She never stirred. Was she dead? Oh, God!

  In frightful anguish he put his ear to her heart; it did not seem tobeat.

  In wild fear he tore open her blouse and wrenched apart her fineunderclothing, the better to listen. Yes, now through only the baresoft skin he heard a faint sound. Ah! saints in heaven! she was notdead.

  Then he took off her boots and rubbed her cold little silk-stockingedfeet, and her cold damp hands, and presently as he watched, it seemedas if some color came back to her cheeks, and at last she gave a sighand moved her head without opening her eyes--and then he saw that shewas not unconscious now, but sleeping.

  Then the bounds of all his mad passion burst, and as he knelt besidethe couch, great tears suffused his eyes and trickled down his cheeks.

  "My Doushka! my love!" he whispered, brokenly. "Oh, God! and I wouldhave hurt you!"

  He rose quickly, and going to the window opened the ventilator at thetop, picked up the pistol from the table and replaced it in his belt,and then he knelt once more beside Tamara, and with deepest reverencebent down and kissed her feet.

  "Sleep, sleep, my sweet Princess," he said softly, and then creptstealthily fro
m the room.