VIII
MONSEIGNEUR'S UNIFORM
Dr. Natcheff amply reassured public opinion. What information he gave toGeneral Stenovics, his friend, is another matter, and remained locked inthat statesman's heart. Publicly and to everybody else, from the Princeof Slavna downward, he declared that there was no ground forapprehension, and that the King merely needed rest and change; after afew days of the former it was proposed to seek the latter by moving theCourt to His Majesty's country-seat at Dobrava--that estate from whichSophy had been graciously bidden to choose her title. Meanwhile, therewas no reason why the Prince should not carry out his intention, andproceed to the Castle of Praslok.
Below Slavna, the main post-road--as has already been stated, there wasno railway at this time--follows the course of the River Krath for aboutfive miles in a southeasterly direction. It is then carried across thestream (which continues to trend to the south) by an ancient woodenbridge, and runs northeast for another fifteen miles, through flatcountry, and past prosperous agricultural and pastoral villages, till itreaches the marshy land bordering Lake Talti. The lake, extending fromthis point to the spurs of the mountain-range which forms the frontier,bars its farther direct progress, and it divides into two branches. Theright prong of the fork continues on the level till it reaches Dobrava,eight miles from the point of bisection; here it inclines to thenortheast again, and, after some ten miles of steady ascent, crosses themountains by St. Peter's Pass, the one carriage-road over the range andover the frontier. The left prong becomes a steep ascent directly thebisection has occurred, rising sharply for five miles to the hill onwhich the Castle of Praslok stands. Then it runs for another five mileson a high plateau till it ends at the hill city of Volseni, which standson the edge of the plateau, looking down on Lake Talti and across toDobrava in the plain opposite.
Beyond Volseni there is no road in the proper sense, but only cart orbridle-tracks. Of these the principal and most frequented runsdiagonally across the valley in which Lake Talti lies, is interrupted bythe lake (at that point about a mile and a half wide), and then meetsthe road from Dobrava half-way up St. Peter's Pass, and about twentymiles across-country from Volseni. It thus forms the base of a rough andirregular triangle of country, with the point where the Slavna roadbisects, the Pass and Volseni marking its three angles. Lake Talti isset in the middle, backed by a chain of hills continuous everywhereexcept at the indentation of the Pass.
Though so near to Slavna in actual distance, the country is verydifferent from the fertile river-valley which surrounds the capital; itis bleak and rough, a land of hill pastures and mountain woods. Itsnatural features are reflected in the character of the inhabitants. Themen who count Volseni a local capital are hardier than the men ofSlavna, less given to luxury, less addicted to quarrels and riots, butconsiderably more formidable opponents if once they take up arms. Forthis reason, no less than on account of their devotion to him, thePrince did well to choose this country as the recruiting-ground for hisnew force of gunners.
The Prince had been at Praslok for a week when Sophy set out to join himthere. At the last moment, Zerkovitch decided to remain in Slavna, atleast until the Court made its promised move to Dobrava: reassuring asDr. Natcheff was, it would do no harm to have a friendly pair of eyesand ears in the capital so long as the King remained in residence. Thusthe two ladies were accompanied only by Peter Vassip, whom the Princehad sent to escort them. They set out in a heavy travelling-carriage atten in the morning, reckoning to reach the Castle before evening fell;their progress would never be rapid, and for the last five milesexceedingly slow. They left the capital in complete tranquillity, andwhen Sophy settled her bill at the sign of the Silver Cock, and badefarewell to old Meyerstein, her landlord, he expressed the hope that shewould soon be back, though, indeed, his poor house was, he feared, nofit quarters for the Baroness Dobrava.
"I don't know whether I shall come back here, but I can never forgetyour house. I shall always love it in my memory," said Sophy.
Max von Hollbrandt had obtained leave of absence from his Legation, andhad accompanied the Prince to Praslok. The two were friends, having manytastes in common, and not least the taste for soldiering. Besides havingthe pleasure of his company, the Prince looked to obtain valuable aidfrom Max in the task on which he was engaged. The young German wasamused and delighted with his expedition. Praslok is a primitive oldplace. It stands on an abrupt mound, or knob, of ground by theroad-side. So steep and sudden is the ascent, that it was necessary tobuild a massive causeway of wood--an inclined plane--to lead up from theroad to the gate of the square tower which forms the front of thebuilding; the causeway has cross-bars at short intervals, to givefoothold to the horses which, in old days, were stabled within thewalls. Recently, however, modern stables had been built on the otherside of the road, and it had become the custom to mount the causeway andenter the Castle on foot.
Within, the arrangements were quaint and very simple. Besides the toweralready mentioned, which contained the dining-room and two bedroomsabove it, the whole building, strictly conditioned by the shape of thehill on which it stood, consisted of three rows of small rooms on theground-floor. In one row lived the Prince and his male guests, in thesecond the servants, in the third the guard. The ladies were to beaccommodated in the tower above the dining-room. The rows of roomsopened on a covered walk or cloister, which ran round the inner court ofthe Castle. The whole was solidly built of gray stone--a business-likeold hill-fortress, strong by reason of its massive masonry and of theposition in which it stood. Considered as a modern residence--it had tobe treated humorously--so Max declared, and found much pleasure in itfrom that point of view. The Prince, always indifferent to physicalcomfort, and ever averse from luxury, probably did not realize how muchhis ancestral stronghold demanded of his guests' indulgence. Old Vassip,Peter's father, was major-domo--always in his sheepskin coat and highboots. His old wife was cook. Half a dozen servants completed theestablishment, and of these three were grooms. The horses, in fact,seemed to Max the only creatures whose comforts were at all on a modernfooting. But the Prince was entirely satisfied, and never so happyanywhere as at Praslok. He loved the simple, hardy life; he loved evenmore, though perhaps less consciously, the sense of being among friends.He would not yield an inch to court popularity in Slavna; but his heartwent out to meet the unsought devotion of Volseni, the mountain town,and its surrounding villages. Distant and self-restrained in Slavna,here he was open, gay, and full of an almost boyish ardor.
"It's worth coming here, just to see its effect on you," Max told him,as the two rode back together from Volseni on the day of Sophy'sarrival. They had been at work, and the recruiting promised well.
The Prince laughed gayly. "Coming here from Slavna is like fresh airafter an oven," he said. "No need to watch your tongue--or otherpeople's! You can laugh when you like, and frown when you like, withouta dozen people asking what's your motive for doing it."
"But, really, you shouldn't have chosen a diplomatist for yourcompanion, sir, if you feel like that."
"I haven't," he smiled. "I've left the diplomatist down there andbrought the soldier up. And now that the ladies are coming--"
"Ah, now we must watch our tongues a little bit! Madame Zerkovitch isvery pretty--and the Baroness might make me absolutely poetical!"
Least prying of men, yet Max von Hollbrandt could not resist sendingwith this speech a glance at his companion--the visit of the Baronesscompelled this much tribute to curiosity. But the Prince's face was apicture of unembarrassed pleasure.
"Then be poetical! We'll all be poetical!" he cried, merrily. "In theintervals of drilling, be it understood!" he added, with a laugh.
Into this atmosphere, physical and moral--the exhilaration of keenmountain breezes, the brightness of a winter sun, the play of high hopesand of high spirit--came Sophy, with all her power of enjoying and herardor in imagining. Her mind leaped from the sad embraces of the past,to fly to the arms of the present, to beckon gladly to the future. Nomore th
an this had yet emerged into consciousness; she was not yetasking how, for good or evil, she stood or was to stand towards thePrince. Fortune had done wonderful things for her, and was doing moreyet. That was enough, and beyond that, for the moment, she was notdriven.
The mixture of poetry and drilling suited her to perfection. She gotboth when she rode over to Volseni with the Prince. Crisp snow coveredthe ground, and covered, too, the roofs of the old, gray, hill-sidecity--long, sloping roofs, with here and there a round-tower with asnow-clad extinguisher atop. The town was no more than one long street,which bayed out at the farther end into a market-place. It stood withits back against a mountain-side, defended on the other three sides by asturdy wall, which only now, after five centuries, began to crumble awayat the top.
At the city-gate bread and salt were brought to the Bailiff and hiscompanion, and she and he rode side by side down the long street to themarket-place. Here were two or three hundred, tall, fine fellows,waiting their leader. Drill had not yet brought formality; on the sightof him they gave a cheer and ran to form a ring about him. Many caughthis hand and pressed or kissed it. But Sophy, too, claimed their eyes.It was very cold; she wore a short jacket of sable over her habit, and around cap of the same fur--gifts of Lady Meg's in the days of herbenevolence. She was at the pitch of pleasure and excitement.
In a moment, a quick-witted fellow divined who she was. "The lady whosaved him! The lady who saved him!" he cried, at the full pitch of hisvoice. The Prince drew himself up in the saddle and saluted her. "Yes,the lady who saved me," he said. Sophy had the cheers now, and theymounted to her head with fumes of intoxication. It may be guessed howthe Red Star glowed!
"And you'll save him, if need be?" she cried--quite indiscreetly. ThePrince smiled and shook his head, but the answer was an enrapturedcheer. The hatred of Slavna was a recommendation to Volseni's increasedregard, the hint of danger a match to its fiery enthusiasm.
"A favor, Bailiff, a favor!" cried a young man of distinguishedappearance. He seemed to be well known and to carry weight, for therewere shouts of "Hear Lukovitch! Hear Lukovitch!"--and one called, with alaugh: "Ay, listen to the Wolf!"
"What is it, Lukovitch?" asked the Prince.
"Make the lady of our company, Bailiff." New cheers were raised. "Makeher a lieutenant of our artillery."
Sophy laughed gayly.
"I have His Majesty's authority to choose my officers," said the Prince,smiling. "Baroness, will you be a lieutenant, and wear our sheepskins inplace of your sables there?"
"It is your uniform, Monseigneur," Sophy answered, bowing her head.
Lukovitch sprang forward and kissed her hand.
"For our Bailiff's preserver as for our Bailiff, men of Volseni!" hecried, loudly. The answering cheer brought tears to Sophy's sparklingeyes. For a moment she could not see her Prince nor the men who thustook her to their hearts.
Suddenly, in the midst of her exultation, she saw a face on theoutskirts of the throng. A small, spare man stood there, dressed inunobtrusive tweeds, but making no effort to conceal himself; he was justlooking on, a stranger to the town, interested in the picturesque littlescene. The face was that of Lieutenant Rastatz.
She watched the drilling of the gunners, and then rode back with thePrince, escorted beyond the gates by a cheering throng, which had nowbeen joined by many women. Dusk was falling, and the old, gray city tookon a ghostly look; the glory of the sunshine had departed. Sophyshivered a little beneath her furs.
"Monseigneur, did you see Rastatz?" she asked.
"No, I didn't see him; but I knew he was here. Lukovitch told meyesterday."
"And not in uniform!"
"He has leave, no doubt, and his uniform wouldn't make his stay inVolseni any more pleasant."
"What's he there for?" she asked, fretfully.
"Ah, Baroness, you must inquire of those who sent him, I think." Histone was light and merry.
"To spy on you, I suppose! I hate his being there. He--he isn't worthyto be in dear Volseni."
"You and Volseni have fallen in love with each other, I see! As forspying, all I'm doing I do openly, and all I shall do. But I don'tblame Stenovics for keeping an eye on me, or Stafnitz either. I do mybest to keep an eye on them, you know. We needn't be afraid of Rastatz,we who have beaten Hercules Mistitch in open fight!"
"Oh, well, away with him!" cried Sophy. "The snow's not frozen--shall wecanter home, Monseigneur?"
Merrily they cantered through the fast falling evening, side by side.Rastatz was out of mind now; all was out of mind save the fascination ofthe crisp air, the silent suggestion of gathering night, her Prince whorode beside her. The dark mass of the tower of Praslok rose too soonbefore her unwilling eyes. She drew rein, sighing.
"If life were just all that and nothing else!" she said, as he helpedher to dismount and the grooms took the horses. She stopped half-way upthe steep wooden causeway and turned to look back towards Volseni. ThePrince stood close by her.
"That's good, but life has better things," he said, softly. "To ridetogether is good, and to play together. But to work together is betterstill, Baroness."
For a moment Sophy was silent. Then she laughed in joy.
"Well, I'm to wear your uniform henceforth, Monseigneur!"
He took her hand and kissed it. Very slowly and gradually she drew itaway, her eyes meeting his as he raised his head. The heavy door at thetop of the causeway opened; Marie Zerkovitch stood there, holding a lamphigh in her hand; the sudden light flooded their faces. For a momentmore he looked at her, then went down again on his way to the stables.Sophy ran up to where Marie Zerkovitch stood.
"You heard our horses?" she asked, gayly.
But there was no responsive smile on Marie's lips. For her, too, thelight had shone on those two faces, and she was sorely troubled.
The next day again they rode together, and the next. On the third day,Sophy rode into Volseni in the sheepskin cap and tunic, a short habit ofblue hiding her leather breeches and coming half-way over her longboots. The Prince gave her his hand as they rode into the market-place.
Marie Zerkovitch trembled, Max von Hollbrandt shrugged his shoulderswith a laugh--and little Rastatz drove back to Slavna through the night.He thought that he had seen enough for his purposes; his report might beuseful in the city on the Krath.