Sophy of Kravonia: A Novel

  VI

  "IMPOSSIBLE" OR "IMMEDIATE"?

  Stenovics was indeed in a quandary. Mistitch had precipitated anunwelcome and premature crisis. The Minister's deliberate, slow-movinggame was brought to a sudden issue which he was not ready to face. Ithad been an essential feature--a governing rule--of his campaign toavoid any open conflict with the Prince of Slavna until an occasionarose on which both the army and the King would be on his side. The Kingwas a power not merely by reason of his cheaply won popularity, but alsobecause he was, while he lived, the only man who could crown Stenovics'soperations with the consummation to which the Minister and his ally,Countess Ellenburg, looked forward with distant yet sanguine hope. Thearmy was with him now, but the other factor was lacking. The King'spride, as well as his affection, was enlisted in his son's interest.Moreover, this occasion was very bad.

  Mistitch was no better than an assassin; to take up arms on his behalfwas to fight in a cause plainly disgraceful--one which would makesuccess very difficult and smirch it forever and beyond remedy, even ifit came. It was no cause in which to fight both Prince and King. Thatwould be playing the big stake on a bad hand--as Stafnitz put it.

  Yet the alternative? Stafnitz, again, had put that clearly. The armywould have no more to do with the man who could not help it at thepinch, who could not save its favorite, who could not release Barabbas.

  The Prince seemed to be in his most unyielding mood--the Bourbon in himwas peeping out. For the honor of the Royal House, and for the sake ofdiscipline, Mistitch must die. He had packed his court-martial with thefew trustworthy friends he had among the officers, using thejustification which jury-packers always use--and sometimes have. He hadno fear of the verdict--and no heed for its unpopularity. He knew thedanger--Stenovics made no secret about that--but said plainly that hewould sooner be beaten by a mutiny than yield to the threat of one. Thefirst meant for him defeat, perhaps death, but not dishonor, norignominy. The more Stenovics prophesied--or threatened--a revolt of thetroops, the more the Commandant stiffened his neck.

  Meanwhile, Slavna waited in ominous, sullen quiet, and the atmospherewas so stormy that King Alexis had no heart for fishing.

  On Friday morning--the day before that appointed for Mistitch'strial--the names of the members of the Court were published; the listmet with the reception which was, no doubt, anticipated even by thePrince himself. The streets began to fill with loiterers, talkers, andwatchers; barrack-rooms were vociferous with grumbling and withspeculation. Stafnitz, with Rastatz always at his heels, was busy withmany interviews; Stenovics sat in his room, moodily staring before him,seeking a road out of his blind alley; and a carriage drew up before thesign of the Silver Cock as the Cathedral bells chimed noon. It was emptyinside, but by the driver sat Peter Vassip, the Prince's personalattendant, wearing the sheepskin coat, leather breeches, and high bootsthat the men of the hills wore. His business was to summon Sophy toSuleiman's Tower.

  The Square of St. Michael was full of life and bustle, the Golden Liondid a fine trade. But the centre of interest was on the north wall andthe adjacent quays, under the shadow of Suleiman's Tower. Within thosewalls were the two protagonists. Thence the Prince issued his orders;thither Mistitch had been secretly conveyed the night before by a partyof the Prince's own guard, trustworthy Volsenians.

  A crowd of citizens and soldiers was chattering and staring at the Towerwhen Sophy's carriage drew up at the entrance of the bridge which,crossing the North River, gave access to the fort. The mouth of thebridge was guarded by fifty of those same Volsenians. They had but toretreat and raise the bridge behind them, and Mistitch was safe in thetrap. Only--and the crowd was quick enough to understand thesituation--the prisoner's trap could be made a snare for his jailer,too. Unless provisions could be obtained from the country round, itwould be impossible to hold the Tower for long against an enemycontrolling the butchers' and bakers' shops of Slavna. Yet it could beheld long enough to settle the business of Captain Hercules.

  The shadow of the weeping woman had passed from Sophy's spirit; the sadimpression was never the lasting one with her. An hour of crisis alwaysfound her gay. She entered the time-worn walls of Suleiman's Tower witha thrill of pleasure, and followed Peter Vassip up the narrow stair witha delighted curiosity. The Prince received her in the large round room,which constituted the first floor of the central tower. Its furniturewas simple, almost rude, its massive walls quite bare save for somepieces of ancient armor. Narrow slits, deep-set in the masonry, servedfor windows and gave a view of the city and of the country round onevery side; they showed the seething throng on the north wall and on thequays; the distant sound of a thousand voices struck the ear.

  Zerkovitch and his wife were with the Prince, seated over a simple meal,at which Sophy joined them. Marie had watched Sophy's entrance and thePrince's greeting closely; she marked Sophy's excitement betrayed in thefamiliar signal on her cheek. But the journalist was too excited on hisown account to notice other people. He was talking feverishly, throwinghis lean body about, and dashing his hands up and down; he hardly pausedto welcome the newcomer. He had a thousand plans by which the Prince wasto overcome and hold down Slavna. One and all, they had the same defect;they supposed the absence of the danger which they were contrived tomeet. They assumed that the soldiers would obey the Commandant, evenwith the sound of the rifles which had shot Mistitch fresh in theirears.

  The Prince listened good-humoredly to his enthusiastic but highlyunpractical adherent; but his mind did not follow the talk. Sophyhearkened with the eagerness of a novice--and he watched her face. Mariewatched his, remembering how she had prayed Sophy not to come to Slavna.Sophy was here--and Fate had thrown her across the Prince's path. With awoman's preference for the personal, Marie was more occupied with thissituation than with the temper of the capital or the measures of thePrince.

  At last their host roused himself, and patted Zerkovitch's shoulderindulgently.

  "Well, it's good not to fear," he said. "We didn't fear the other night,Mademoiselle de Gruche and I. And all ended well!"

  "Ended?" Marie murmured, half under her breath.

  The Prince laughed. "You sha'n't make me afraid," he told her, "any morethan Zerkovitch shall make me trust Colonel Stafnitz. I can't say morethan that." He turned to Sophy. "I think you'd better stay here till wesee what's going to happen to-night--and our friends here will do thesame. If all's quiet, you can go home to sleep. If not, we can give youquarters--rough ones, I'm afraid." He rose from the table and went to awindow. "The crowd's thinner; they've gone off to eat and drink. Weshall have one quiet hour, at all events."

  An orderly entered and gave him a letter.

  He read it, and said: "Tell General Stenovics I will receive him here attwo o'clock." When the messenger had gone, he turned round towards thetable. "A last appeal, I suppose! With all the old arguments! But theGeneral has nothing to give in exchange for Mistitch. My price would bevery high."

  "No price! no price!" cried fiery Zerkovitch. "He raised his swordagainst you! He must die!"

  "Yes, he must die." He turned to the window again. Sophy rose from thetable and joined him there, looking over the city. Directly beneath wasthe great gate, flanked on either side by broad, massive walls, whichseemed to grow out of the waters of the river. He was aware of hermovement, though he had not looked round at her. "I've brought you, too,into this trouble--you, a stranger," he said.

  "You don't think I'm sorry for that?"

  "No. But it makes my impotence worse." He waved his arm towards thecity. "There it is--here am I! And yet--I'm powerless!"

  Sophy followed his gesture, and understood what was passing in hismind--the pang of the soldier without his armament, the workman withouthis tools. Their midnight talk flashed back into recollection. Sheremembered his bitter complaint. Under her breath, and with a sigh, shewhispered: "If you had the big guns now!"

  Low as the whisper was, he heard it--and it seemed to shoot through hisbrain. He turned sharply round on her and gazed full
into her eyes. Sohe stood a moment, then quickly returned to the table and sat down.Sophy followed, her gaze fixed on his face. Zerkovitch ceasedwriting--he had been drawing up another plan; both he and Marie nowwatched the Prince. Moments went by in silence.

  At last the Prince spoke--in a low voice, almost dreamy. "My guns forMistitch! Mistitch against my guns! That would be a price--a fairprice!"

  The three sat silent. The Zerkovitches, too, had heard him talk of theguns: how on them hung the tranquillity of the city, and how on themmight hang the country's honor and existence. Stenovics could give them,if he would, in return for Mistitch. But to give up Mistitch was a greatsurrender. Sophy's whisper, almost involuntary, the voicing of a regret,hardly even of a distant aspiration, had raised a problem of conduct, aquestion of high policy. The Prince's brain was busy with it, and hismind perplexed. Sophy sat watching him, not thinking now, but waiting,conscious only that by what seemed almost chance a new face had, throughher, been put on the situation.

  Suddenly Zerkovitch brought his clinched fist down on the table. "No!"he almost shouted. "They'll think you're afraid!"

  "Yes, they'll think that--but not all of them. Stenovics will knowbetter--and Stafnitz, too. They'll know I do it, not because I'm afraid,but in order that I never need be."

  "Then Stenovics won't give them!" cried Marie.

  "I think he must give anything or everything for Mistitch." He rose andpaced restlessly about the room. Sophy still followed him with her eyes,but she alone of the three offered no argument and made no suggestion.The Prince stood still for a moment in deep thought. Then his facecleared. He came quickly up to Sophy, took her hand, and kissed it.

  "Thank you," he said. "I don't know how it will turn out for me; thecase is too difficult for me to be able to foresee that. For me it maybe mastery--I always thought it would mean that. Or perhaps, somehow, itmay turn to ruin." He pressed Sophy's hand now and smiled at her. Sheunderstood and returned his smile. "But the question isn't one of myinterest. My duty is plain."

  He walked quickly to his writing-table and unlocked a drawer. Hereturned to the table with an envelope in his hand, and sat down betweenMarie and Zerkovitch.

  The orderly entered again, announcing Stenovics. "Let him come in here,"said the Prince. His manner grew lighter, and the smile which hadcomforted Sophy remained on his face.

  Stenovics came in; his air was nervous, and he looked at the Prince'sthree companions with a visible access of embarrassment. At a nod fromthe Prince, the orderly placed a chair for the General, and withdrew.

  "The same matter we discussed last night, General?"

  "There can be but one matter in the thoughts of all of us now, sir.Pardon me--I understood your Royal Highness would receive me alone."

  The Prince gave a low laugh. "When one bargains, shouldn't one havewitnesses?"

  In an instant Stenovics laid hold of the significant word; it made himforget his request for privacy. An eager light came into his eyes.

  "Bargains? You're ready now to--?"

  "_La nuit porte conseil._" He drew a paper from the envelope, unfoldedit, and handed it across the table. "You remember that--a memorandum Isent to you three months ago--in my capacity as Commandant?"

  Stenovics looked at the paper. "I remember, sir."

  "It's indorsed in your hand?"

  "Yes."

  "The indorsement runs: 'Impossible.' Rather curt, General!"

  "The note was for my private use, but your Royal Highness particularlypressed for the return of the document."

  "I did. And, after all, why use more words than necessary? One willstill be enough--but not that one."

  "I'm not following you, sir," said Stenovics.

  The Prince leaned across the table to him. "In our conversation, lastnight, you asked me to do a very remarkable thing, and to get this ladyhere" (he indicated Sophy) "to do it, too. You remember? We were tothink that, at night, in the Street of the Fountain, in the light of theilluminations, Sergius Stefanovitch and Nikolas Stafnitz looked--andsounded--just the same. I didn't see my way to that, and I didn't thinkthis lady would see hers. It seemed so difficult."

  Stenovics was in a strain of close attention. The paper from theenvelope crackled under the trembling of his hand.

  "Now, if we had such a memory as Lieutenant Rastatz is happy enough topossess!" the Prince pursued. "Or if Colonel Stafnitz had taken us intohis confidence about his quarrel with Captain Mistitch! All that was notso last night. Consequently, Captain Mistitch must be tried and shot,instead of suffering some not very severe disciplinary punishment, forbrawling in the street and having a quarrel with his superior officer."

  Stenovics marked every word, and understood the implied offer. The offerwas good enough; Stafnitz himself would not and could not ask that nonotice whatever should be taken. The trifling nature of the punishmentwould in itself be a great victory. But the price? He was to hear thatin a moment.

  "Sergius Stefanovitch--Nikolas Stafnitz! Which was it, General? It'sonly changing two words, yet what a difference it makes!"

  "The difference of peace to-night or--" Stenovics waved his hand towardsthe city. But the Prince interrupted him.

  "Never mind that," he said, rather sharply. "That's not first in mymind, or I should have left the matter where it rested last night. I wasthinking of the difference to Captain Mistitch--and perhaps to you,General."

  He looked full at Stenovics, and the General's eyes fell. The Princepointed his finger across the table at the paper under Stenovics'shand.

  "I'm a liberal bargainer," he said, "and I offer you a good margin ofprofit. I'll change two words if you'll change one--two for you againstone for me! 'Sergius Stefanovitch' becomes 'Nikolas Stafnitz' if'Impossible' becomes 'Immediate.'"

  Stenovics gave one slight start, then leaned back in his chair andlooked past the Prince out of the window opposite to him.

  "Make that change, and we'll settle details afterwards. I must have fullguarantees. I must see the order sent, and the money deposited in myname and at my disposal."

  "This afternoon, sir?"

  "Wouldn't it be well to release Captain Mistitch from Suleiman's Towerbefore to-night?"

  "The money is difficult to-day."

  "The release will be impossible to-morrow."

  Again Stenovics's eyes wandered to the window, and a silence followed.Perhaps he saw the big guns already in position, dominating the city;perhaps he listened to the hum of voices which again began to swell involume from the wall and from the quays. There are times when a man mustbuy the present with a mortgage on the future, however onerous the termsmay be. It was danger against destruction. He put out his hand and tookfrom Zerkovitch a quill which the journalist was twiddling in hisfingers. He made a scratch and a scribble on the paper which the Princehad taken from the envelope.

  "'Impossible' has become 'Immediate,' sir."

  "And 'Sergius Stefanovitch' 'Nikolas Stafnitz,'" said the Prince. Helooked at Sophy for confirmation, and she softly clapped her hands.