Page 22 of A Queen's Error


  CHAPTER XXII

  THE QUEEN'S ERROR

  The Reverend Mother looked from Madame la Comtesse to me, and from meback again to the Comtesse.

  "Madame," she said, addressing her, "without doubt you are old friends;here is a re-union of the most pleasant!"

  We heard her words, both of us, I have no doubt, but we did not answerher; my thoughts were back again in that basement room at MonmouthStreet. I saw "Madame la Comtesse," this healthy, bright looking oldlady, lying on the disordered bed, her clothes soaked in blood, a greatwound in her throat.

  How did she come here?

  How did she escape?

  Those were the two questions which, for the moment, absorbed my wholefaculties.

  Her face, as I gazed upon it, expressed first blank amazement andalarm; then pleasure; finally the formation in a strong mind of a greatresolve; she was the first to recover her entire self-possession,which, perhaps, she had really never lost.

  "Mr. Anstruther," she said in English, extending her frail, delicatelooking hand, "I am delighted to meet you again."

  She took my hand in both of hers, and still holding it looked up intomy face.

  "You are well," she said, "I can see that, and happy. So you should bewith such a charming wife. Please present me to her."

  Dolores wanted no presentation; I think she loved the dear old lady atthe very first sight. She went to her and gave her both her hands, andthe Comtesse drew her face down to hers and kissed her.

  "Your good husband did me a great service once, my dear," she said,"perhaps the greatest service a man can do a woman."

  Dolores looked down at her wonderingly, and then at me.

  "I wish I could tell you what it was, my dear," she continued, "but itis a secret. Still, perhaps your husband will tell you, _when I havetold him_. I do not think that he realised the great benefit he did meat the time, for the good reason that he did not know its extent."

  Dolores nodded her head and smiled, but I am sure she did notunderstand. How should she? I did not understand myself.

  Our hostess, the nun, stood looking from one to the other of us with asmile on her face of that fixity which denoted that she did notunderstand a single word of what we were talking about.

  Madame la Comtesse noted her isolation at once.

  "Pray forgive me, _chere mere_," she said, breaking into French, whichshe pronounced with a very charming accent. "Mr. Anstruther and I areold friends. I meet madame, his wife, for the first time today."

  In voluble language the Reverend Mother expressed her gratification atso happy a re-union, and in the midst of her compliments a nun arrivedto say that _dejeuner_ was served.

  "Go to your lunch, my dears," the Comtesse said, "you must be famishedafter your long row on the lake." We had told her of our morningexcursion. "Come back to me here afterwards," she continued, "if youwill, and perhaps I will tell you that which you had a right to knowlong ago. Go now, and come back to me. I shall be under those treesyonder in the little arbour, which is cool in the heat of theafternoon."

  Dolores and I went off to our _dejeuner_, but though it was excellent,we ate but little; we were thinking of the Comtesse.

  "What a dear old lady she is," commented my warm-hearted little wife."I don't think I have ever seen any one with such a sweet expression asshe has!"

  Neither had I, save, of course, Dolores.

  "But whatever can she have to say to you, Will?" she continued, "andwhat is this great service you have done her?"

  Alas, I could not tell her! I remembered my promise of eternalsilence, made to her father before our marriage.

  A cold muteness fell upon us both when I shook my head and did notanswer her; it was the first time that the barrier of secrecy hadarisen between us. The air of the room seemed cold as we sat there,though the sun shone brilliantly without. The fruits the nuns hadplaced before us at the end of our meal remained untouched.

  "Coffee will be served to you on the terrace, monsieur and madame,"announced our attendant nun, "it is the wish of Madame la Comtesse."

  We arose silently, and went forth on to the sunlit terrace again, withits wealth of flowers and perfumed air. We walked without a wordpassing between us, and we came to the arbour in the shade overlookinga grand stretch of blue lake; here was the Comtesse, a table before herwith coffee and liqueurs, amongst them a sparkling cut-glass decanterof yellow Chartreuse. A nun stood ready to pour out the coffee, thesame that had written at the old lady's dictation and held her sunshadein the morning. She served us with our coffee, then with a low bowdisappeared.

  "Sister Therese," remarked the Comtesse, "is a great comfort to me; shewrites all my letters and waits on me as if I were her mother."

  At the word "mother" the old lady paused, and I saw her blue eyes fixedon a distant sail on the lake, with a sad, almost yearning look in them.

  But in a moment it was gone. She turned to us, smiling.

  "You must take a glass of Chartreuse," she said, filling the tinyglasses, "it is so good for you. It is a perfect elixir!"

  We drank the liqueur more to please her than anything else; thenDolores rose. I have never seen such a look of pain on her sweet faceas was there then. God send I never see such again!

  "No doubt, Madame la Comtesse," she began, "you wish to speak to myhusband alone?"

  The old lady glanced up at her for a few moments without speaking,there was a slightly puzzled look in her kind blue eyes; then, in asecond, this look was gone, and one of deep solicitude and affectiontook its place.

  It was as if some expression or passing glance on my dear wife's facehad touched a chord somewhere in her nature, perhaps long forgotten.

  She put out her slender white hand and drew Dolores down beside her onto the bench on which she sat; then she put her arm round her andpressed her to her, as one fondles a child.

  "My dear," she said, "between a husband and his wife there should be nosecret. No secret of mine shall divide you two. What I tell to one, Itell to both. What does it matter? For myself, I shall soon be gone;for the others, what harm can it bring them?"

  We sat in silence, she with her arm round Dolores, her eyes fixed onthe blue lake, a tear trembling in each, and she spoke to us as onewhose thoughts were far away among the people and the scenes shedescribed. I sat enthralled by every word she uttered.

  "My eyes first saw the light," she began, "in a castle among themountains around Valoro, one of the seats of my father, the king!"

  Though I started at her words, they did not amaze me; I was preparedfor them.

  "My mother died when I was ten," she continued. "How I remember herwith her fair curls and blue eyes, they seemed so strange among thedark-skinned Aquazilians! Young though I was, the shock of her deathwas the most awful, I think, that I ever had, perhaps--save one. Itwas all the greater because I had no brother or sister to share mygrief with me. Yet I loved my father very dearly; he was a good andgreat man, and much reverenced by his people. There was no talk ofrevolutions nor republics in those days; the people were content undera mild rule.

  "The years went on, and I became a woman, nurtured in the magnificenceof a rich palace, yet imbued with the fear of God, for my father was agood man, and had me well taught my faith. I grew up, I think, withthe brightness of my dead mother's spirit pervading me, for I avoidedmany of the pitfalls of youth.

  "My royal father, often taking my face between his hands, would lookinto my eyes, and thank God that I had not in me the wickedness of theDolphbergs, the race from which we sprang. It was when I wasthree-and-twenty that a sudden chill, caught by my father when outhunting, produced a fever which robbed me of him, and I was left anorphan; an orphan queen to reign over a nation.

  "I was my father's only child; there was no Salic law to bar me. Butas the orphan is ever succoured by heaven, so was I in my lonely royalstate upheld by the counsels of a good and great man.

  "Your grandfather, my child," she continued turning to Dolores, "theo
ld Don Silvio d'Alta.

  "He had been my father's stay in all his troubles; the d'Altas were arace of diplomatists, and when death claimed him your father, Don Juan,took his place."

  A soft look came into her eyes as she sat with Dolores' hand in hers, afar-away look; her thoughts were in the times she spoke of.

  "Those were happy days, Dolores," she continued, "those first yearswhen your father and I ruled the people of Aquazilia. I had had areign of ten years when your grandfather died and young Don Juan tookthe reins of government as my adviser; no one ever thought ofcontesting his right to it. Was he not a d'Alta?

  "He was but twenty-five and I barely nine years older when he became mychancellor, and those ten years of ruling should have taught meprudence as a queen had I but listened to Don Juan's counsels too. ForI know he loved me, loved me far too well perhaps and above my deserts.

  "Had I had the prudence of an honest milkmaid who guards her honour asby instinct, I might have reigned this day at Valoro, instead of beingthe victim of a villain who, creeping into my heart like the serpentinto Eden, destroyed it with the fire of burning love, and left me onlyashes."

  * * * * *

  "It was in the very first year of Don Juan's chancellorship that therecame to Valoro the son of a Grand Duke of one of the German States;what brought him there I shall never know. He told me it was the sightof my face in a picture, and the 'glamour of my virgin court,' but Ithink rather it was the spirit of the adventurer, or the gamester,which seeks for gain and counts not the cost to others. The Prince ofRittersheim----"

  "Rittersheim!" I exclaimed, interrupting her.

  "Yes," she continued, "Adalbert, the eldest son of the Grand Duke ofRittersheim, he who succeeded his father two years later.

  "The Prince was, I think, the handsomest man I have ever seen, and Ithink the wickedest. His tall fine presence, set off by a magnificentuniform, was seen at every Court I held. At every Court ball heclaimed my hand for the first dance; as far as my lonely state allowedhe sought me at every opportunity, and I, like a fool, was flattered byhis attentions.

  "Yes, to my sorrow, I began to love him.

  "I had travelled but little; travelling was harder in those days; onetour in Europe with my father, that was all.

  "I had fondly imagined that my suitor was a free, unmarried man. Thefirst shock of his perfidy came when I learned he was not; but it cametoo late--I loved him.

  "Don Juan told me, as he was bound in duty and honour to tell me fromhis position, that the Prince of Rittersheim was already married, butwas separated from his wife.

  "At the very next opportunity I had of speaking to the Prince--it wasin a secluded part of the palace gardens, and the meetings wereconnived at by one of my ladies, the Baroness of Altenstein--I askedhim plainly if he were married.

  "This was apparently the opportunity he had been waiting for; he threwhimself at my feet, and in passionate terms declared his love for me.

  "He had loved me from the first moment that he had seen my portrait, hehad loved me ten times more since he had seen the original.

  "I stayed the torrent of his words and reminded him that he was married.

  "Yes, he admitted he was married in name, but his marriage was nomarriage; he had separated from his wife by the direction of the GrandDuke, his father--in this he spoke the truth, but the reason was fardifferent--his so-called marriage was soon to be set aside as null andvoid, he told me.

  "'Then come back to me when you are free,' I answered, 'and I willlisten to you if the Church permits,' for I knew he was not of myFaith, and the German States treated marriage lightly. My answer onlycaused him to redouble his entreaties; he begged me not to drive himfrom me, he could not live away from my presence, and I, poor fool,looking down at his handsome face and graceful person, and loving himwith my whole heart, believed him.

  "I know not how it came about, but I found myself sitting on a seat inthat secluded corner of my garden with the Prince beside me with hisarms around me, whilst my lady-in-waiting, the Baroness d'Altenstein,had discreetly wandered off out of earshot, but still with a keen eyethat no one should disturb us.

  "I never can account for it, I never can understand how it was Ilistened to him. I suppose it was the hot bad blood of the Dolphbergswhich lurked in my veins and urged me, for I loved with all the passionof my race then; loved as a woman over thirty loves who has never lovedbefore.

  "Sitting on that rustic seat with him, whilst the cool evening windplayed about us, I listened to a scheme he unfolded to me. He said heloved me to such distraction that he could not leave me, it would killhim; he could not wait until his marriage was set aside. He swore thathe believed himself conscience free to marry, and swore a great oaththat nothing should ever part him from me.

  "In soft, loving whispers, he proposed that we should be marriedsecretly; he had a priest all ready willing to perform the ceremony.

  "Then he would be sure of me and could live content.

  "In a few months his former alliance would be set aside; before all theworld we could be married again. A grand state ceremony if I wouldhave it so.

  "I listened to him, and my heart beat high as he spoke, yet I doubtedin my saner moments whether I should ever be permitted to marry him bymy ministers and my people were he free that very day.

  "Poor fool that I was, he bent me to his will within a week, and he hadno greater advocate for his cause than the Baroness d'Altenstein, mylady, though, poor soul, she only meant me well. But she was romantic,and had not long been married to a man she loved, a courtier from thecountry of the Dolphbergs; she had spent her honeymoon in theircapital, and was an advocate for love at any price.

  "Knowing I loved the Prince of Rittersheim, she worked only to make mehappy by a marriage with him.

  "With her knowledge only, I slipped away from Court for a week and wentthrough a ceremony of marriage with the Prince at a little villagechurch hidden away in the mountains a hundred miles from Valoro.

  "I married him in the dress and under the name of a simple peasantwoman, not knowing--as he did--that such a ceremony was utterly nulland void.

  "Was I happy? I think he loved me then--a little." A soft, sad lookoverspread the sweet old face; she gazed away across the lake insilence for a few moments. It seemed that, even after all these years,that time of love and falseness held some tender recollection still.

  She came, as it were, to herself almost directly, and heaving a greatsigh, went on--

  "Long before the week was ended, the Prince had told me I must returnto the Court, and take my place there as before.

  "Of course I protested, and begged him to even then make our marriagepublic; that I would give up the throne. Had I not a great fortuneleft me by my father?

  "Yes, that was the point that touched him, the great fortune. Thetreasures of my late father were immense. Besides an enormous fortunein money, mostly invested prudently in Europe, he possessed some of themost valuable diamonds in the world. It had been his diversion tocollect them; he believed that they were always a most valuablesecurity, likely to increase in value, and therefore he did not grudgethe money sunk in them. The most valuable, reckoned to be worth amillion English pounds, were stored in a safe of special constructionmade of steel. They were apart from the Crown Jewels, and were neverworn. Indeed most of them were unset. My father's theory was thatthey were of immense value and could be carried in a small compass incase of necessity.

  "The Prince, of course, knew from me full well of these treasures, andI firmly believe hungered for their possession from the very moment helearned from my foolish lips of their existence. He forced me at theend of the few days' honeymoon to return to the Court, and then fromthat time forth I saw him only surreptitiously with the aid ofd'Altenstein, who was the aider and abettor of it all, yet loving me,and working only, as she thought, poor soul, for my happiness.

  "I was soon undeceived in my Prince. I soon learned that he was insore straits for
money, and that he intended to get it from me.

  "I gave him all I could, but he was insatiable. Finally he would cometo me drunk and strike me when I could not meet his demands forthousands upon thousands.

  "It was then that in my desperation, when I knew I was to be a mothersoon, I confided all to Don Juan d'Alta, and by so doing perhaps savedmy life and my child's."

 
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