III
The Princess Hildegarde of Barscheit! My gloves and riding-crop slipped from my nerveless fingers to the floor. A numbing, wilting sensation wrinkled my spine. The Princess Hildegarde of Barscheit! She stood opposite me, the woman—ought I not to say girl?—for whom I had been seeking, after a fashion, all these months! The beautiful madcap who took the duchy by the ears, every now and then, and tweaked them! The princess herself, here in this lonely old castle into which I had so carelessly stumbled! Romance, enchantment! Oddly enough, the picture of her riding a bicycle flashed through my brain, and this was followed by another, equally engaging, of the hussar who rode cross-country, to the horror of the conservative element at court.
"The Princess Hildegarde!" I murmured stupidly.
"Yes. I have asked you a question, sir. Or shall I put the question in French?"—ironically. "Was it the duke who sent you here?"
There was a look in her superb eyes which told me that it would have been to her infinite pleasure to run a sword through my black and villainous heart. Presently I recovered. With forced calm I stooped and collected my gloves and crop.
"Your Highness, what the deuce has the duke to do with my affairs, or I with his? As an American, you would scarcely expect me to meddle with your private affairs. You are the last person in the world I thought to meet this night. I represent the United States in this country, and though I am inordinately young, I have acquired the habit of attending to my own affairs."
From the angry face in front of me I turned to the dismayed face beyond. There must have been a question in my glance. The young woman drew herself up proudly.
"I am the Honorable Betty Moore."
(The princess' schoolmate in England!)
Her Highness stood biting the knuckle of a forefinger, undecided as to what path of action to enter, to reach a satisfactory end. My very rudeness convinced her more than anything else that I spoke the truth.
"How, then, did you select this particular road?"—still entertaining some doubt.
"It is a highway, free to all. But I have already explained that," I answered quietly. I moved deliberately toward the door, but with a cat-like movement she sprang in front of me. "Well, your Highness?"
"Wait!" she commanded, extending an authoritative arm (lovely too!). "Since you are here, and since you know who I am, you must remain."
"Must?" I repeated, taken aback.
"Must! My presence here ought not to be known to any one. When you witness that which shall take place here to-night, you will understand." Her tone lost its evenness; it trembled and became a bit wild.
"In what manner may I be of service to your Highness?" I asked pleasantly, laying aside my gloves and crop again. "I can easily give you my word of honor as a gentleman not to report your presence here; but if I am forced to remain, I certainly demand—"
"Desire," she corrected, the old fire in her eyes.
"Thank you. I desire, then, to know the full reason; for I can not be a party to anything which may reflect upon the consulate. For myself, I do not care." What hare-brained escapade was now in the air?
The princess walked over to the mantel and rested her arms upon it, staring wide-eyed into the fire. Several minutes passed. I waited patiently; but, to tell the truth, I was on fire with curiosity. At length my patience was rewarded.
"You have heard that I am to marry the Prince of Doppelkinn?" she began.
I nodded.
"Doubtless you have also heard of my determination not to marry him?" she went on.
Again I nodded.
"Well, I am not going to marry him."
I was seized with the desire to laugh, but dared not. What had all this to do with my detention in the castle?
"Betty," said the princess, turning imploringly to her companion (what a change!), "you tell him."
"I?" The Honorable Betty drew back.
(Had they kidnapped old Doppelkinn? I wondered.)
"I can not tell him," cried her Highness miserably, "I simply can not. You must do it, Betty. It is now absolutely necessary that he should know everything; it is absolutely vital that he be present. Perhaps Heaven has sent him. Do you understand? Now, tell him!"
And, wonders to behold! she who but a few minutes gone had been a princess in everything, cold, seeing, tranquil, she fled from the room. (Decidedly this was growing interesting. What had they done?) Thus, the Honorable Betty Moore and his Excellency, the American consul at Barscheit, were left staring into each other's eyes fully a minute.
"You will, of course, pledge me your word of honor?" She who had recently been timid now became cool and even-pulsed.
"If in pledging it I am asked to do nothing to discredit my office. I am not an independent individual,"—smiling to put her more at ease. (I haven't the least doubt that I would have committed any sort of folly had she required it of me.)
"You have my word, sir, that you will be asked to do nothing dishonorable. On the other hand, you will confer a great favor upon her Highness, who is in deep trouble and is seeking a way to escape it."
"Command me," said I promptly.
"Her Highness is being forced into marriage with a man who is old enough to be her grandfather. She holds him in horror, and will go to any length to make this marriage an impossibility. For my part, I have tried to convince her of the futility of resisting her royal uncle's will." (Sensible little Britisher!) "What she is about to do will be known only to four persons, one of whom is a downright rascal."
"A rascal?" slipped my lips, half-unconsciously. "I trust that I haven't given you that impression," I added eagerly. (A rascal? The plot was thickening to formidable opaqueness.)
"No, no!" she cried hastily, with a flash of summer on her lips. (What is more charming than an English woman with a clear sense of the humorous?) "You haven't given me that impression at all."
"Thank you." My vanity expanded under the genial warmth of this knowledge. It was quite possible that she looked upon me favorably.
"To proceed. There is to be a kind of mock marriage here to-night, and you are to witness it." She watched me sharply.
I frowned.
"Patience! Not literally a mock marriage, but the filling out of a bogus certificate."
"I do not understand at all."
"You have heard of Hermann Steinbock, a cashiered officer?"
"Yes. I understand that he is the rascal to whom you refer."
"Well, this certificate is to be filled out completely. To outwit the duke, her Highness commits—"
"A forgery."
"It is a terrible thing to do, but she has gone too far to withdraw now. She is to become the wife of Hermann Steinbock. She wishes to show the certificate to the duke."
"But the banns have not been made public."
"That does not matter."
"But why detain me?" I was growing restless. It was all folly, and no good would come of it.
"It is necessary that a gentleman should be present. The caretaker is not a gentleman. I have said that Steinbock is a rascal. As I review the events, I begin to look upon your arrival as timely. Steinbock is not a reliable quantity."
"I begin to perceive."
"He is to receive one thousand crowns for his part in the ceremony; then he is to leave the country."
"But the priest's signature, the notary's seal, the iron-clad formalities which attend all these things!" I stammered.
"You will recollect that her Highness is a princess of the blood. Seldom is she refused anything in Barscheit." She went to a small secretary and produced a certificate, duly sealed and signed. There lacked nothing but Steinbock's name.
"But the rascal will boast about it! He may blackmail all of you. He may convince the public that he has really married her Highness."
"I thank not. We have not moved in this blindly. Steinbock we know to have forged the name of the minister of finance. We hold this sword above his head. And if he should speak or boast of it, your word would hold greater weight than his. Do you understand now?"
"Yes, I understand. But I believe that I am genuinely sorry to have blundered into this castle to-night."
"Oh, if you lack courage!"—carelessly.
I laughed. "I am not afraid of twenty Steinbocks."
Her laughter echoed mine. "Come, Mr.—by the way, I believe I do not know your name."
"Warrington—Arthur Warrington."
"That is a very good English name, and a gentleman possessing it will never leave two women in a predicament like this. You will understand that we dare not trust any one at court. Relative to her Highness, the duke succeeds in bribing all."
"But a rascal like Steinbock!"
"I know,"—a bit wearily.
"It is pardonable to say that I believe her Highness has been very foolish."
The girl made a gesture which conceded this fact. "It is too late to retreat, as I have told you. Steinbock is already on the way. We must trust him. But you?"
"After all, what does a consulate amount to?"
This seemed to be answer enough. She extended her hand in a royal fashion. I took it in one of mine, bent and kissed it respectfully. Apparently she had expected the old-fashioned handshake familiar to our common race, for I observed that she started as my lips came into contact with the back of her hand. As for me, when my lips touched the satin flesh I knew that it was all over.
"Your Highness!" she called.
The princess returned. She looked at me with a mixture of fierceness and defiance, humility and supplication. I had always supposed her to be a sort of hobbledehoy; instead, she was one of those rare creatures who possess all the varying moods of the sex. I could readily imagine all the young fellows falling violently in love with her; all the young fellows save one. I glanced furtively at the Honorable Betty.
"He knows all?" asked her Highness, her chin tilted aggressively.
"Everything."
"What must you think of me?" There was that in her Highness' tone which dared me to express any opinion that was not totally complimentary.
"I am not sufficiently well-born to pass an opinion upon your Highness' actions," I replied, with excusable irony.
"Excellent!" she exclaimed. "I have grown weary of sycophants. You are not afraid of me at all."
"Not in the slightest degree," I declared.
"You will not regret what you are about to do. I can make it very pleasant for you in Barscheit—or very unpleasant." But this threatening supplement was made harmless by the accompanying smile.
"May I offer the advice of rather a worldly man?"
"Well?"
"When Steinbock comes bid him go about his business."
The Honorable Betty nodded approvingly, but her Highness shrugged.
"Since you are decided,"—and I bowed. "Now, what time does this fellow put in his appearance?"
Her Highness beamed upon the Honorable Betty. "I like the way he says 'this fellow'; it reassures me. He is due at nine o'clock; that is to say, in half an hour. I will give you these directions. I do not wish Steinbock to know of your presence here. You will hide in the salon, close to the portières, within call. Moreover, I shall have to impose upon you the disagreeable duty of playing the listener. Let nothing escape your ear or your eye. I am not certain of this fellow Steinbock, though I hold a sword above his head."
"But where are your men?" I asked.
She smiled. "There is no one here but Leopold."
"Your Highness to meet Steinbock alone?"
"I have no fear of him; he knows who I am."
"Everything shall be done as you wish." I secretly hoped I might have the opportunity to punch Steinbock's head.
"Thank you." The transition of her moods always left me in wonder. "Play something; it is impossible to talk." She perched herself on the broad arm of the Honorable Betty's chair, and her arm rested lightly but affectionately on her shoulder.
It was something for a man to gain the confidence, in so short a time, of two such women. I felt as brave as Bavard. So I sat down before the piano and played. My two accomplishments are horseback riding and music, and I candidly tell you that I am as reckless at one as at the other. I had a good memory. I played something from Chaminade, as her fancies are always airy and agreeable and unmelancholy. I was attacking The Flatterer when her Highness touched my arm.
"Hark!"
We all listened intently. The sound of beating hoofs came distinctly. A single horseman was galloping along the highway toward the castle. The sound grew nearer and nearer; presently it ceased. I rose quietly.
"It is time I hid myself, for doubtless this rider is the man."
The princess paled for a moment, while her companion nervously plucked at the edges of her handkerchief.
"Go," said the former; "and be watchful."
I then took up my position behind the portières. Truly I had stumbled into an adventure; but how to stumble out again? If the duke got wind of it, it would mean my recall, and I was of a mind, just then, that I was going to be particularly fond of Barscheit.
All was silent. A door closed, and then came the tread of feet. I peered through the portières shortly to see the entrance of two men, one of whom was the old caretaker. His companion was a dark, handsome fellow, of Hungarian gipsy type. There was a devil-may-care air about him that fitted him well. It was Steinbock. He was dressed with scrupulous care, in spite of the fact that he wore riding clothes. It is possible that he recognized the importance of the event. One did not write one's name under a princess' signature every day, even in mockery. There was a half-smile on his face that I did not like.
"Your Highness sees that I am prompt,"—uncovering.
"It is well. Let us proceed at once to conclude the matter in hand," she said.
"Wholly at your service!"
(Hang the fellow's impudence! How dared he use that jovial tone?)
I heard the crackle of parchment. The certificate was being unfolded. (It occurred to me that while she was about it the princess might just as well have forged the rascal's name and wholly dispensed with his services. The whole affair struck me as being ineffective; nothing would come of it. If she tried to make the duke believe that she had married Steinbock, her uncle would probe the matter to the bottom, and in the end cover her with ridicule. But you can not tell a young woman anything, when she is a princess and in the habit of having her own way. It is remarkable how stupid clever women can be at times. The Honorable Betty understood, but her Highness would not be convinced. Thus she suffered this needless affront. Pardon this parenthesis, but when one talks from behind a curtain the parenthesis is the only available thing.) There was silence. I saw Steinbock poise the pen, then scribble on the parchment. It was done. I stirred restlessly.
"There!" cried Steinbock. His voice did not lack a certain triumph. "And now for the duplicate!"
Her Highness stuffed the document into the bosom of her dress. "There will be no duplicate." The frigidity of her tones would have congealed the blood of an ordinary rascal. But Steinbock was not ordinary.
"But suppose the duke comes to me for verification?" he reasoned.
"You will be on the other side of the frontier. Here are your thousand crowns."
The barb of her contempt penetrated even his thick epidermis. His smile hardened.
"I was once a gentleman; I did not always accept money for aiding in shady transactions."
"Neither your sentiments nor your opinions are required. Now, observe me carefully," continued her Highness. "I shall give you twenty-four hours to cross the frontier in any direction you choose. If after that time you are found in Barscheit, I promise to hand you over to the police."
"It has been a great day," said the rascal, with a laugh. "A thousand crowns!"
I separated the portières an inch. He stood at the side of the piano, upon which he leaned an elbow. He was certainly handsome, much sought after by women of a low class. The princess stood at Steinbock's left and the Honorable Betty at his right, erect, their faces expressing nothing, so forced was the repose.
"I never expected so great an honor. To wed a princess, when that princess is your Highness! Faith, it is fine!"
"You may go at once," interrupted her Highness, her voice rising a key. "Remember, you have only twenty-four hours between you and prison. You waste valuable time."
"What! you wish to be rid of me so soon? Why, this is the bridal night. One does not part with one's wife at this rate."
Leopold, the caretaker, made a warning gesture.
"Come, Leopold, I must have my jest," laughed Steinbock.
"Within certain bounds," returned the old man phlegmatically. "It is high time you were off. You are foolhardy to match your chances with justice. Prison stares you in the face."
"Bah! Do you believe it?"
"It is a positive fact," added the princess.
"But to leave like this has the pang of death!" Steinbock remonstrated, "What! shall I be off without having even kissed the bride?"
"The bargain is concluded on all sides; you have your thousand crowns."
"But not love's tribute. I must have that. It is worth a thousand crowns. Besides," with a perceptible change in his manner, "shall I forget the contempt with which you have always looked upon me, even in the old days that were fair and prosperous? Scarcely! Opportunity is a thing that can not be permitted to pass thus lightly." Then I observed his nose wrinkle; he was sniffing. "Tobacco! I did not know that you smoked, Leopold."
"Begone!" cried the old fellow, his hands opening and shutting.
"Presently!" With a laugh he sprang toward her Highness, but Leopold was too quick for him.
There was a short struggle, and I saw the valiant old man reel, fall and strike his head on the stone of the hearth. He lay perfectly motionless. So unexpected was this scene to my eyes that for a time I was without any particular sense of movement. I stood like stone. With an evil laugh Steinbock sprang toward her Highness again. Quick as light she snatched up my crop, which lay on the table, and struck the rascal full across the eyes, again and again and again, following him as he stepped backward. Her defense was magnificent. But, as fate determined to have it, Steinbock finally succeeded in wresting the stick from her grasp. He was wild with pain and chagrin. It was then I awoke to the fact that I was needed.
I rushed out, hot with anger. I caught Steinbock by the collar just in time to prevent his lips from touching her cheek. I flung him to the floor, and knelt upon his chest. I am ashamed to confess it, but I recollect slapping the fellow's face as he struggled under me.
"You scoundrel!" I cried, breathing hard.
"Kill him!" whispered her Highness. She was furious; the blood of her marauding ancestors swept over her cheeks, and if ever I saw murder in a woman's eyes it was at that moment.
"Hush, Hildegarde, hush!" The English girl caught the princess in her arms and drew her back. "Don't let me hear you talk like that. It is all over."
"Get up," I said to Steinbock, as I set him free.
He crawled to his feet. He was very much disordered, and there were livid welts on his face. He shook himself, eying me evilly. There was murder in his eyes, too.
"Empty your pockets of those thousand crowns!"—peremptorily.
"I was certain that I smelled tobacco," he sneered. "It would seem that there are other bridegrooms than myself."
"Those crowns, or I'll break every bone in your body!" I balled my fists. Nothing would have pleased me better at that moment than to pummel the life out of him.
Slowly he drew out the purse. It was one of those limp silk affairs so much affected by our ancestors. He balanced it on his hand. Its ends bulged with gold and bank-notes. Before I was aware of his intention, he swung one end of it in so deft a manner that it struck me squarely between the eyes. With a crash of glass he disappeared through the window. The blow dazed me only for a moment, and I was hot to be on his tracks. The Honorable Betty stopped me.
"He may shoot you!" she cried. "Don't go!"
Although half through the window, I crawled back, brushing my sleeves. Something warm trickled down my nose.
"You have been cut!" exclaimed her Highness.
"It is nothing. I beg of you to let me follow. It will be all over with that fellow at large."
"Not at all." Her Highness' eyes sparkled wickedly. "He will make for the nearest frontier. He knows now that I shall not hesitate a moment to put his affairs in the hands of the police."
"He will boast of what he has done."
"Not till he has spent those thousand crowns." She crossed the room and knelt at the side of Leopold, dashing some water into his face. Presently he opened his eyes. "He is only stunned. Poor Leopold!"
I helped the old man to his feet, and he rubbed the back of his head grimly. He drew a revolver from his pocket.
"I had forgotten all about it," he said contritely. "Shall I follow him, your Highness?"
"Let him go. It doesn't matter now. Betty, you were right, as you always are. I have played the part of a silly fool. I would have my own way in the matter. Well, I have this worthless paper. At least I can frighten the duke, and that is something."
"Oh, my dear, if only you would have listened to my advice!" the other girl said. There was deep discouragement in her tones. "I warned you so often that it would come to this end."
"Let us drop the matter entirely," said her Highness.
I gazed admiringly at her—to see her sink suddenly into a chair and weep abandonedly! Leopold eyed her mournfully, while the English girl rushed to her side and flung her arms around her soothingly.
"I am very unhappy," said the princess, lifting her head and shaking the tears from her eyes. "I am harassed on all sides; I am not allowed any will of my own. I wish I were a peasant!—Thank you, thank you! But for you that wretch would have kissed me." She held out her hand to me, and I bent to one knee as I kissed it. She was worthy to be the wife of the finest fellow in all the world. I was very sorry for her, and thought many uncomplimentary things of the duke.
"I shall not ask you to forget my weakness," she said.
"It is already forgotten, your Highness."
Under such circumstances I met the Princess Hildegarde of Barscheit; and I never betrayed her confidence until this writing, when I have her express permission.
Of Hermann Steinbock I never saw anything more. Thus the only villain passes from the scene. As I have repeatedly remarked, doubtless to your weariness, this is not my story at all; but in parenthesis I may add that between the Honorable Betty Moore and myself there sprang up a friendship which later ripened into something infinitely stronger.
This, then, was the state of affairs when, one month later, Max Scharfenstein poked his handsome blond head over the frontier of Barscheit; cue (as the dramatist would say), enter hero.