“And for the reason that you have not so decided, you do me the honor––”
“I do myself the service, mademoiselle. I can bear this torment of indecision no longer, and you can help me, for you, 338dear lady, see clearly where the vision of others is distorted. The enthusiasm of the others is unsafe. Yes,” he sighed, with a little superior air of resignation to all human foibles, “those on whose loyalty I can depend are indeed few, but I am thankful that among them are my ministers, and my faithful secretary, Father Augustin Fischer––”
“Then why, in heaven’s name, does Your Highness come to me?”
“Instinct, or–perhaps it’s mania. Something has forced me to learn what you would say.”
Jacqueline’s foot–a small digression, at most–was slippered in blue, and this she pillowed on a cushion of red. And on another cushion she settled her elbow; and the sleeve of the chemisette, or blouse, or whatever the high-necked filmy white garment was, fell away, revealing a rounded forearm clasped in a band of gold. And resting her chin on her thumb, she regarded the young prince thoughtfully. In her look there may have been a sedate twinkle of amusement, but all was gently, pityingly sympathetic.
“Let me know,” she said, “more of the doubts that trouble Your Highness.”
Unerringly she touched the right chord. Doubts, yes, doubts of a broken dreamer. Illusions shattered as bubbles. A dweller in an ideal shadow, believing that subjects needed only lofty phrases, Maximilian was finding himself tragically maladjusted to the modern day in which he lived. But as the words tumbled from his lips in the passionate relief of unburdening, it quickly appeared that his misgivings arose only because he had fallen short of Dark Age standards. He recalled bitterly how, unlike the illustrious among his ancestors, he had not stirred until others had won his crown for him. But destiny was kind. He had the chance for redemption. To hold his empire now depended on him alone. He would mount his horse, give to the light a true Hapsburg blade, 339and valiantly ride forth to conquer or perish, and in any hazard be worthy of his House.
Then, without abrupt change, he talked of Austria’s late woes. Had he but commanded his country’s ships at Lissa! Could he but have risked his life at Sadowa! And moreover, he was still needed over there. But in some quick recollection a moisture dimmed the blue eyes. He drew from his vaquero jacket a dispatch. It was from Franz Josef. If Maximilian returned to Austria, the message ran, then he must leave behind the title of Emperor–leave behind even the title!
“And will that hurt so much?” asked Jacqueline.
The Ritual again! For it a man withheld asylum from his brother.