IX
COUNTESS ELLENBURG PRAYS
In Slavna, Dr. Natcheff continued his reassuring reports until thepublic at large was so reassured as to ask for no more reports even ofthe most optimistic description. But the state of mind of the few peoplebehind the scenes was very different. Stafnitz's conclusion held swaythere. The time was short! That was the ruling thought and the governingfact. It might be very short; and the end might come without warning.The secret was well kept, but to those to whom he spoke at all Natcheffspoke openly. The King's life hung on a thread, which the least accidentmight break. With perfect quiet and tranquillity he might live a year,possibly two years; any shock or overstrain would precipitate the end.Countess Ellenburg and her confidential friends knew this, the King knewit himself, and Lepage his valet, knew it. There the possession of thesecret stopped.
The King was gay and courageous; courage, at least, he had never lacked.He seemed almost indifferent. The best years were over, he said, and whynot an end? An end swift, without pain, without waiting! There was muchto be said for it. Lepage agreed with his master and told him so in hisusual blunt fashion; they agreed together not to cry about it, and theKing went fishing still. But the time was short, and he pushed on hisone great idea with a zeal and an earnestness foreign to his earlierhabit. He would see his son married, or at least betrothed, before hedied; he would see the great marriage in train--the marriage which wasto establish forever the rank and prestige of the House of Stefanovitch.The Prince of Slavna must set forth on his travels, seeking a wife; theKing even designated a Princess of most unquestionable exaltedness, asthe first object of his son's attentions or pursuit. With an unusualperemptoriness, and an unusual independence, he sent Stenovics orders tocommunicate his wishes directly to the Prince. Stenovics received theroyal memorandum on the day on which Lieutenant Rastatz returned toSlavna with the fruits of his observation at Volseni in his hand.
At first sight the King's commands were totally at variance with theinterests of the Ellenburg coterie, and with the progress of their greatplan. They did not want the House of Stefanovitch strengthened andglorified in the person of its present Heir Apparent. But the matter wasmore complicated than a first glance showed. There were the guns to beconsidered as well--and the gunners training at Volseni; these would besources of strength and prestige to the Prince, not less valuable, moretangible, than even a great match. And now the Prince was on the spot.Send him on his travels! The time was short; when the short time ended,he might be far away. Finally, he might go and yet take nothing by hisjourney; the exalted Princess would be hard to win; the King's familypride might defeat itself by making him pitch his hopes and his claimstoo high.
On the whole the matter was difficult. The three chief conspiratorsshowed their conviction of this in their characteristic ways. CountessEllenburg became more pious than ever; General Stenovics more silent--atleast more prone to restrict his conversation to grunts; ColonelStafnitz more gay and interested in life; he, too, was fishing, and inhis favorite waters, and he had hopes of a big rise.
There was one contingency impossible to overlook. In spite of hisfather's orders, the Prince might refuse to go. A knowledge of the stateof the King's health would afford him a very strong excuse, a suspicionof the plans of the coterie an overpowering motive. The King himself hadforeseen the former danger and feared its effect on his dominant hopes;by his express command the Prince was kept in ignorance; he had beenamply reassured by Dr. Natcheff. On the latter point the coterie had,they flattered themselves, nothing to fear. On what ground, then, couldthe Prince justify a refusal? His gunners? That would be unwarrantable;the King would not accept the plea. Did Rastatz's report suggest anyother ground for refusal? If it did, it was one which, to the King'smind, would seem more unwarrantable still.
There is no big game without its risk; but after full consideration,Stenovics and Stafnitz decided that the King's wishes were in theirinterest, and should be communicated to the Prince without delay. Theyhad more chances for them than against them. If their game had itsdangers--well, the time might be very short.
In these days Countess Ellenburg made a practice of shutting herself upin her private rooms for as much as two additional hours every day. Shetold the King that she sought a quiet time for meditation and prayer.King Alexis shrugged his shoulders; meditation wouldn't help matters,and, in face of Dr. Natcheff's diagnosis of the condition of his heart,he must confess to a serious doubt even about prayer. He had outlivedhis love for the Countess, but to the end he found in her a source ofwhimsical amusement; divining, if not her ambitions, at least herregrets; understanding how these regrets, when they became very acute,had to be met by an access of piety. Naturally they would be acute now,in view of Natcheff's diagnosis. He thanked her for her concern, andbade her by all means go and pray.
What was the stuff of her prayers--the stuff behind the words? No doubtshe prayed for her husband's life. No doubt she prayed for her son'swell-being. Very likely she even prayed that she might not be led intotemptation, or to do anything wrong, by her love for her son; for it washer theory that the Prince himself would ruin his own chances, and throwthe Crown away. It is not easy always to be sure of consciousinsincerity.
Yet the devil's advocate would have had small difficulty in placing afresh face on her prayers, in exhibiting what lay below the words, insuggesting how it was that she came forth from her secret devotions, nothappy and tranquillized, but with weary eyes, and her narrow lipsclose-set in stern self-control. Her prayer that she might do nothingwrong was a prayer that the Prince might do nothing right. If thatprayer were granted, sin on her part would become superfluous. Sheprayed not to be led into temptation--that sounded quite orthodox; wasshe to presume to suggest to Heaven the means by which temptation shouldbe avoided?
Stenovics skilfully humored this shade of hypocrisy. When he spoke toher, there were in his mouth no such words as plans or schemes or hopesor ambitions--no, nor claims nor rights. It was always, "thepossibilities we are compelled to contemplate"--"the steps we may beforced into taking"--"the necessities of mere self-defence"--"theinterests of the kingdom"--"the supreme evil of civil strife"--whichlast most respectable phrase meant that it was much better to jockey thePrince out of his throne than to fight him for it. Colonel Stafnitz bithis lip and gnawed his mustache during these interviews. The Countesssaw--and hated him. She turned back to Stenovics's church-going phrasesand impassive face. Throughout the whole affair the General probablynever once mentioned to her in plain language the one and only object ofall their hopes and efforts. In the result business took rather longerto transact--the church-going phrases ran to many syllables; butconcessions must be made to piety. Nor was the Countess so singular; weshould often forego what we like best if we were obliged to define itaccurately and aloud.
After one of these conferences the Countess always prayed; it may bepresumed that she prayed against the misfortune of a cast-ironterminology. Probably she also urged her views--for prayer is in manybooks and mouths more of an argument than a petition--that all marriageswere on one and the same footing, and that Heaven knew naught of aparticular variety named in some countries morganatic. Of the keeping ofcontracts, made contrary to the presumed views of Heaven, we are allaware that Churches--and sometimes States, too--are apt to know or countnothing.
Such were the woman and her mind. Some pity may go out to her. In theend, behind all her prayers, and inspiring them--nay, driving her toher knees in fear--was the conviction that she risked her soul. When shefelt that, she pleaded that it was for her son's sake. Yet there layyears between her son and man's estate; the power was for some oneduring those years.
"If I had the Countess's views and temperament, I should growpotatoes--and, if possible, grow them worse than my neighbors," saidColonel Stafnitz. "If I lived dully, I should at least die in peace!"
The King held a very confidential conference. It was to sign his will.The Countess was there; the little boy, who moved in happyunconsciousness of all the
schemes which centred round him, was sentinto the next room to play with Lepage. Stenovics and Stafnitz werepresent as witnesses, and Markart as secretary. The King touched lightlyon his state of health, and went on to express his conviction of thePrince of Slavna's distinguished consideration for Countess Ellenburgand fraternal affection for little Alexis. "I go the happier for beingsure of this, gentlemen," he said, to his two counsellors. "But in anycase the Countess and my son are well secured. There will be enough foryou, Charlotte, to live in suitable style, here or abroad, as youplease. My son I wish to stay here and enter my army. I've settled onhim the estate of Dobrava, and he will have means equal to his station.It's well to have this arranged; from day to day I am in the hands ofGod."
As with another King, nothing in life became him like the leaving of it.There was little more work to do--he had but to wait with courage andwith dignity. The demand now was on what he had in abundance, not on afaculty which he had always lacked. He signed the document, and bade theGeneral and Stafnitz witness it. In silence they obeyed him, meaning tomake waste-paper of the thing to which they set their names.
That business done--and the King alone seemed happy in the doing of it(even Stafnitz had frowned)--the King turned suddenly to Stenovics.
"I should like to see Baroness Dobrava. Pray let her be sent for thisafternoon."
The shock was sudden, but Stenovics's answer came steady, if slow.
"Your Majesty desires her presence?"
"I want to thank her once again, Stenovics. She's done much for us."
"The Baroness is not in Slavna, sir, but I can send for her."
"Not in Slavna? Where is she, then?"
He asked what the whole kingdom knew. Save himself, nobody was ignorantof Sophy's whereabouts.
"She is on a visit to his Royal Highness at Praslok, sir." Stenovics'svoice was a triumph of neutrality.
"On a visit to the Prince?" Surprise sounded in his voice.
"Madame Zerkovitch is there too, sir," Stenovics added. "The ladies havebeen there during the whole of the Prince of Slavna's stay."
The King shot a glance at Countess Ellenburg; she was looking prim andgrim. He looked, also, at Stafnitz, who bit his mustache, without quitehiding an intentional but apparently irrepressible smile. The King didnot look too grave--and most of his gravity was for Countess Ellenburg.
"Is that--hum--at this moment, quite desirable?" he asked.
His question met with silence; the air of all three intimated that thematter was purely one for His Majesty. The King sat a moment with afrown on his brow--the frown which just supplants a smile when a thing,generally amusing and not unnatural, happens by chance to occurinconveniently.
Across this silence came a loud voice from the next room--Lepage'svoice. "Take care, take care! You'll upset the flowers, Prince!"
The King started; he looked round at his companions. Then he struck ahand-bell on the table before him. Lepage appeared.
"Lepage, whom did you address as 'Prince' just now?"
"Count Alexis, sir."
"Why?"
"The Count insisted."
"Don't do it again. It's absurd! Go away!"
A dull red patched Countess Ellenburg's cheeks. Lids brooded low overthe eyes of Stafnitz and of Stenovics. It was a very awkward littlescene--the King's irritation had got the better of him for the moment.What would the kindred of the exalted Princess have said? The Kingturned to Countess Ellenburg and forced a smile.
"The question of reproof is one for you, Countess," he said, frigidly."And now about the Baroness--No, I mean, I wanted to ask if my wisheshave been communicated to the Prince of Slavna."
"The Prince has received them, sir. He read them in the presence of mymessenger, and requested leave to send his answer in writing, unless hemight wait on Your Majesty."
"There are reasons why I had better not see him just now. Ask him towrite--but very soon. The matter isn't one for delay." The King rosefrom his seat.
"Your Majesty still wishes me to send for Baroness Dobrava?"
The King reflected for a moment, and answered simply: "No."
His brief word broke up the conference--it had already lasted longerthan suave and reassuring Dr. Natcheff would have advised. The men wentaway with a smile, all of them--the King, Stenovics, Stafnitz,round-faced Markart--each smiling according to the quality of each,their smiles answering to Max von Hollbrandt's shrug of the shoulders.There are things which bring men to what painful youth was taught tocall the least common denominator. A horse-race does it, a prize-fight,a cricket-match, a battle, too, in some sort. Equally efficacious, veryoften, though it is to be recorded with reluctance, is a strongflirtation with no proper issue obvious.
The matter was grave, yet all the men laughed. The matter was grave, andCountess Ellenburg did not laugh. Was that what Stafnitz called herviews and her temperament? In part, no doubt. Besides, men will laugh atthe side-issues of the gravest affairs; it is not generally the casewith woman. Added again to this, perhaps Countess Ellenburg knew more,or divined more. Among glaring diversity there was, perhaps,something--an atom--of similarity between her and Sophy--not thesomething which refuses, but the something which couples high conditionswith assent. The thousandth chance is to most men negligible; to mostwomen it is no worse than the tenth; their sense of mathematical odds issorely--and sometimes magnificently--imperfect.
It had flashed across Countess Ellenburg's mind that maybe Sophy, too,played for a big stake--or, rather, lived for it and so would die. Themen had not thought of that; to them, the violent flirtation had itsobvious end and its passing inconvenience. It might delay the Prince'sdeparture for a while; it might make his marriage more entirely anaffair of duty and of state. With this idea they smiled and shrugged;the whole business came under the head which, in their thoughts andtheir confidential conversations, they would style nonsense.
It was not so with the Countess. Disconcerted by that episode of Lepageand young Alexis, more moved by the sudden appearance of BaronessDobrava as a factor in the game, she returned to prayer.
What now was the form and matter of her prayer? The form must gounformulated--and the words unconjectured. Yet she prayed so long thatshe must have succeeded in putting a good face on her petitions. Withouta plausible plea nobody could have rested on their knees so long.
It is probable that she prayed for others as she prayed for herself--sheprayed that the Prince of Slavna and the Baroness Dobrava might escapetemptation.
Or that, if they fell--? Again it was not for her to dictate to Heaven.Heaven had its ways of dealing with such sinners.
Yet through all her prayers must have echoed the words: "It's absurd!"She prayed again, most likely, against being suspected of wishing thatthe man who uttered them--her husband--might soon be dead.
The King dead--and the Prince a slave to love--to the idle hours of anunprofitable love! It was a fine vision, and needed a vast deal ofcovering with the veil of prayer.