Joan of the Sword Hand
CHAPTER XXXI
THE ROYAL MINX
Prince Louis entered, flushed and excited. His eyes had lost theirfurtive meanness and blazed with a kind of reckless fury quite foreignto his nature, for anger affected him as wine might another man.
He spoke first to the Princess Margaret.
"And so, my fair sister," he said, "you would foment rebellion even inmy palace and concoct conspiracy with my own married wife. Make ready,madam, for to-morrow you shall find your master. I will marry you to thePrince Ivan of Muscovy. He will carry you to Moscow, where ladies ofyour breed are taught to obey. And if they will not--why, their delicateskins may chance to be caressed with instruments less tender thanlovers' fingers. Go--make you ready. You shall be wed and thatimmediately. And leave me alone with my wife."
"I will not marry the Prince of Muscovy," his sister answered calmly. "Iwould rather die by the axe of your public executioner. I would wed withthe vilest scullion that squabbles with the swine for gobbets in thegutters of Courtland, rather than sit on a throne with such a man!"
The Prince nodded sagely.
"A pretty spirit--a true Courtland spirit," he said mockingly. "I hadthe same within my heart when I was young. Conrad hath it now--priestthough he be. Nevertheless, he is off to Rome to kiss the Pope's toe. Bymy faith, Gretchen lass, you show a very pretty spirit!"
He wheeled about and looked towards the false Joan, who was standinggripping nails into palms by the chimney-mantel.
"And you, my lady," he said, "you have had your turn of rebellion. Butonce is enough. You are conquered now. You are a wedded wife. Your placeis with your husband. You sleep in my palace to-night!"
"If I do," muttered the Sparhawk, "I know who will wake in hellto-morrow!"
"My brother Louis," cried the Princess Margaret, running up to him andtaking his arm coaxingly, "do not be so hasty with two poor women.Neither of us desire aught but to do your will. But give us time. Spareus, for you are strong. 'A woman's way is the wind's way'--you know ourCourtland proverb. You cannot harness the Northern Lights to yourchariot-wheels. Woo us--coax us--aye, even deceive us; but do not forceus. Louis, Louis, I thought you were wise, and yet I see that you knownot the alphabet of love. Here is your lady. Have you ever said a lovingword to her, bent the knee, kissed her hand--which, being persisted in,is the true way to kiss the mouth?"
("If he does either," growled the Sparhawk, "my sword will kiss hismidriff!")
Prince Louis smiled. He was not used to women's flatteries, and in hispresent state of exaltation the cajoleries of the Princess suited hismood. He swelled with self-importance, puffing his cheeks and twirlinghis grey moustache upwards with the finger and thumb of his left hand.
"I know more of women than you think, sister," he made answer. "I havehad experiences--in my youth, that is; I am no puppet princeling. BySaint Mark! once on a day I strutted it with the boldest; andto-day--well, now that I have humbled this proud madam and brought herto my own city, why, I will show you that I am no Wendish boor. I cansue a lady's favour as courteously as any man--and, Margaret, if youwill promise me to be a good girl and get you ready to be marriedto-morrow, I promise you that Louis of Courtland will solicit his lady'sfavour with all grace and observance."
"Gladly will I be married to-morrow," said the Princess, caressing herbrother's sleeve--"that is, if I cannot be married to-day!" she addedunder her breath.
But she paused a few moments as if embarrassed.
Then she went on.
"Brother Louis, I have spoken with my sister here--your wife, the LadyJoan. She hath a scruple concerning matrimony. She would have itresolved before she hath speech with you again. Permit our good FatherClement to advise with her."
"Father Clement--our Conrad's tutor, why he more than another?"
"Well, do you not understand? He is old," pleaded Margaret, "and thereare things one can say easiest to an old man. You understand, brotherLouis."
The Prince nodded, well pleased. This was pleasant. His mentor, PrinceWasp, did not usually flatter him. Rather he made him chafe on a tightrein.
"And if I send Father Clement to you, chit," he said patting hissister's softly rounded cheek, "will he both persuade you and ease thescruples of my Lady Joan? I am as delicate and understanding as any man.I will not drive a woman when she desires to be led. But led or drivenshe must be. For to my will she must come at last."
"I knew it, I knew it!" she cried joyously. "Again you are mine ownLouis, my dear sweet brother! When will Father Clement come?"
"As soon as he can be sent for," the Prince answered. "He will comedirectly here to the Summer Palace. And till then you two fair maids canabide together. Princess, my wife, I kiss your noble hand. Margaret,your cheek. Till to-morrow--till to-morrow!"
He went out with an awkward attempt at airy grace curiously grafted onhis usually saturnine manners. The door closed behind him. Margaret ofCourtland listened a moment with bated breath and finger on lip. Ashouted order reached her ear from beneath. Then came the tramp ofdisciplined feet, and again they heard only the swirl of the Allafretting about the piles of the Summer Palace.
Then, quickly dropping her lover's fingers, Margaret took hold of herown dress at either side daintily and circled about the Sparhawk in alight-tripping dance.
"Ah, Louis--we will be so good and bidable--to-morrow. To-morrow youwill see me a loving and obedient wife. To-morrow I will wed PrinceWasp. Meantime--to-day you and I, Maurice, will consult Father Clement,mine ancient confessor, who will do anything I ask him. To-day we willdance--put your arm about my waist--firmly--so! There, we will dance ata wedding to-day, you and I. For in that brave velvet robe you shall bemarried!"
"What?" cried the Sparhawk, stopping suddenly. His impulsive sweetheartcaught him again into the dance as she swept by in her impetuous career.
"Yes," she nodded, minueting before him. "It is as I say--you are to bemarried all over again. And when you ride off I will ride with you--noslipping your marriage engagements this time, good sir. I know yourKernsberg manners now. You will not find me so slack as my brother!"
"Margaret!" cried the Sparhawk. And with one bound he had her againsthis breast.
"Oh!" she cried, with a shrug of her pretty shoulders, as she submittedto his embrace, "I don't love you half as much in that dress. Why, it islike kissing another girl at the convent. Ugh, the cats!"
She was not permitted to say any more. The Alla was heard very clearlyin the Summer Palace as it swept the too swift moments with it awaytowards the sea which is oblivion. Then after a time, and a time andhalf a time, the Princess Margaret slowly emerged.
"No," she said retrospectively, "it is not like the convent, afterall--not a bit."
* * * * *
"Affection is ever seemly, especially between great ladies--alsounusual!" said a bass voice, speaking grave and kindly behind them.
The Sparhawk turned quickly round, the crimson rushing instant to hischeek.
"Father--dear Father Clement!" cried Margaret, running to the noble oldman who stood by the door and kneeling down for his blessing. He gave itsimply and benignantly, and laid his hand a moment on the ripplingmasses of her fair hair. Then he turned his eyes upon the Sparhawk.
The confusion of his beautiful penitent, the flush which mounted to herneck even as she kneeled, added to a certain level defiance in theglance of her taller companion, told him almost at a glance that whichhad been so carefully concealed. For the Father was a man of muchexperience. A man who hears a dozen confessions every day of his lifethrough a wicket in a box grows accustomed to distinguishing the finerdifferences of sex. His glance travelled back and forth, from theSparhawk to Margaret, and from Margaret to the Sparhawk.
"Ah!" he said at last, for all comment.
The Princess rose to her feet and approached the priest.
"My Father," she said swiftly, "this is not the Lady Joan, my brother'swife, but a youth marvellously like her, who hath offered himself in herplac
e that she might escape----"
"Nay," said the Sparhawk, "it was to see you once again, Lady Margaret,that I came to Courtland!"
"Hush! you must not interrupt," she went on, putting him aside with herhand. "He is the Count von Loeen, a lord of Kernsberg. And I love him. Wewant you to marry us now, dear Father--now, without a moment's delay;for if you do not, they will kill him, and I shall have to marry PrinceWasp!"
She clasped her hands about his arm.
"Will you?" she said, looking up beseechingly at him.
The Princess Margaret was a lady who knew her mind and so bent otherminds to her own.
The Father stood smiling a little down upon her, more with his eyes thanwith his lips.
"They will kill him and marry you, if I do. And, moreover, pray tell me,little one, what will they do to me?" he said.
"Father, they would not dare to meddle with you. Your office--yoursanctity--Holy Mother Church herself would protect you. If Conrad werehere, he would do it for me. I am sure he would marry us. I could tellhim everything. But he is far, far away, on his knees at the shrine ofHoly Saint Peter, most like."
"And you, young masquerader," said Father Clement, turning to theSparhawk, "what say you to all this? Is this your wish, as well as thatof the Princess Margaret? I must know all before I consent to put my oldneck into the halter!"
"I will do whatever the Princess wishes. Her will is mine."
"Do not make a virtue of that, young man," said the priest smiling; "thewill of the Princess is also that of most people with whom she comes incontact. Submission is no distinction where our Lady Margaret isconcerned. Why, ever since she was so high" (he indicated with hishand), "I declare the minx hath set her own penances and dictated herown absolutions."
"You have indeed been a sweet confessor," murmured Margaret ofCourtland, still clasping the Father's arm and looking up fondly intohis face. "And you will do as I ask you this once. I will not ask forsuch a long time again."
The priest laughed a short laugh.
"Nay, if I do marry you to this gentleman, I hope it will serve for awhile. I cannot marry Princesses of the Empire to carnival mummers morethan once a week!"
A quick frown formed on the brow of Maurice von Lynar. He took a stepnearer. The priest put up his hand, with the palm outspread in a sort ofcounterfeit alarm.
"Nay, I know not if it will last even a week if bride and groom are bothso much of the same temper. Gently, good sir, gently and softly. I mustgo carefully myself. I am bringing my grey hairs unpleasantly near thegallows. I must consider my duty, and you must respect my office."
The Sparhawk dropped on one knee and bent his head.
"Ah, that is better," said the priest, making the sign of benedictionabove the clustered raven locks. "Rise, sir, I would speak with you amoment apart. My Lady Margaret, will you please to walk on the terracethere while I confer with--the Lady Joan upon obedience, according tothe commandment of the Prince."
As he spoke the last words he made a little movement towards thecorridor with his hand, at the same moment elevating his voice. ThePrincess caught his meaning and, before either of her companions couldstop her, she tiptoed to the door, set her hand softly to the latch, andsuddenly flung it open. Prince Louis stood without, with head bowed tolisten.
The Princess shrilled into a little peal of laughter.
"Brother Louis!" she cried, clapping her hands, "we have caught you. Youmust restrain your youthful, your too ardent affections. Your bride isabout to confess. This is no time for mandolins and serenades. Youshould have tried those beneath her windows in Kernsberg. They mighthave wooed her better than arbalist and mangonel."
The Prince glared at his _debonnaire_ sister as if he could have slainher on the spot.
"I returned," he said formally, speaking to the disguised Maurice, "toinform the Princess that her rooms in the main palace were ready for herwhenever she deigns to occupy them."
"I thank you, Prince Louis," returned the false Princess, bowing. In hischaracter of a woman betrayed and led prisoner the Sparhawk was sparingof his words--and for other reasons as well.
"Come, brother, your arm," said the Princess. "You and I must notintrude. We will leave the good Father and his fair penitent. Will youwalk with me on the terrace? I, on my part, will listen to your lover'sconfessions and give you plenary absolution--even for listening atkeyholes. Come, dear brother, come!"
And with one gay glance shot backward at the Sparhawk, half over hershoulder, the Lady Margaret took the unwilling arm of her brother andswept out. Verily, as Father Clement had said, she was a royal minx.