The Shadow of the Czar

by John R. Carling

"We all have our fears at times. I ran away from my first battle," observed Lambro, without stating from how many others he had run.

Now that her fears were vanishing, Barbara began to review the sequel of her recent adventure. She had waked from a swoon to find herself in the arms of Paul, and with the words "dearest Barbara" falling upon her ear. The significance of the expression did not appeal to her at the time, but now the recalling of it caused her heart to palpitate. Her color came and went. She scarcely dared raise her eyes to meet his gaze. Silence and shyness marked her as their own for the remainder of the evening.

That night, when the other inmates of the castle were sleeping, Paul, with lighted lamp, stole off to the bedchamber containing the secret panel, and began to explore the hidden passage and staircase leading to the mysterious study. Roof, walls, and flooring were of black oak thick with dust. Every angle had a festoon of cobwebs. On turning the corner of the staircase Paul made his first discovery. For some purpose or other a very long nail had been fixed in the baluster, and not having been driven far into the wood, it projected in such a manner that unobservant persons brushing hastily by would run the risk of tearing their clothing.

Some such accident had happened, for from the head of this nail there hung a tiny shred of flimsy fabric, which, upon examination by the light of the lamp, Paul found to be a fragment of delicate lace,—lace of a color, texture, and pattern that he had seen in the charming white costume with the silver rope-girdle which Jacintha had bestowed upon Barbara.

This fragment of lace had not become detached while Barbara herself was turning the staircase, inasmuch as during her recent adventure she had been wearing a different dress.

Scrutinizing everywhere, Paul was attracted by a faint sparkle coming from the dust in a corner of the staircase, the cause of which proved to be a little article of gold, obviously a seal. It was circular in shape, and the band encircling the stone was inscribed with the motto, "Esse quam videri." The stone itself forming the seal was a lovely sapphire bearing the image of a double-headed eagle, beautifully and delicately engraved.

"The royal arms of Poland, as I live!" muttered Paul. His surprise was naturally very great, but since speculation as to how the thing came to be there would have been mere waste of time, he pocketed the treasure-trove and passed on to the mysterious apartment. This he found differed in no way from an ordinary study. It was well lighted and well carpeted. There were numerous shelves with books thereon. There were chairs, a table, and an escritoire. There were oil-paintings on the walls. There was really nothing to alarm one in the aspect of the apartment. Paul did not feel anything of the strange sensation spoken of by Barbara, and therefore he felt compelled to ascribe that part of her experience to the imagination of a timid maiden. The room was locked and sealed from intrusion: ergo, her argument was there must be something fearful in it.

Paul turned his attention to the portraits on the wall, and began with that of the Master who was represented in the scarlet robes of a cardinal. It was a handsome face upon which Paul gazed,—a face full of intellectual power, with nothing of the mystic visionary about it; the face of a man of action, a man of ambition, an ecclesiastical statesman of the type of Richelieu or Mazarin. Paul waved the lamp to and fro, trying to educe the wicked expression that had frightened Barbara. True, the countenance was a cold and haughty character, but he could not honestly affirm that there was anything sinister in it. Barbara's fancy was probably due to her hostile feelings.

He next surveyed the picture of the young lady,—a maiden robed in jewelled attire with pearl necklace, diadem, and sceptre. The resemblance to Barbara was indeed so marvellous that Paul at first was disposed to believe that she was the person here represented, and that the symbols of high rank were decorative fancies of the artist.

A closer study of the portrait, however, made him think otherwise. True, every feature corresponded with Barbara's; hair and eyes were of the same color. The difference was in the expression. This girl had mischievous eyes, an arch smile, a radiant look. It was clearly the face of one leading a happy, unclouded life, whereas even in Barbara's smile there was always a tinge of melancholy, as if her mind were shadowed by the memory of some secret sorrow.