CHAPTER II.
REVOLUTION AND ROSE-WATER.
Princess Eirene Theophanis sat alone in the garden at Bashi Konak, her fingers busied with embroidery, her mind with the progress made by her husband’s cause since their arrival at the little Dardanian capital. The Prince of Dardania was a true friend, an ally to be depended upon. Eirene had felt this from the moment she perceived that he had sent his brother-in-law in command of the guard which was to meet the travellers at the frontier and escort them to the city. True, Colonel Roburoff was only a handsome Scythian officer with whom Princess Ludmilla of Dardania had made a runaway match, but her brother had taken the couple back into favour, and the successful adventurer commanded his Guard. That he should be sent to receive Prince and Princess Theophanis showed a just sense of their exact position, as claimants de jure of a right not yet recognised de facto, paying a private visit from which important public events might hereafter develop. The same consideration had been shown in allotting them quarters. Colonel Roburoff had apologised for the fact that they were accommodated, not at the Palace, but in a house hired for the occasion, on the ground that the royal dwelling was already inconveniently crowded, but had pointed out, with due mystery, the superior opportunities thus afforded for conference with friends and supporters. Moreover, on the occasion of the meeting at the frontier, Zoe had received, from a confidential attendant of the Princess of Dardania, a bouquet gathered, so she was assured, by the royal hands themselves, and concealing a little scented note which read, “To the profound, the accomplished Zeto, from the humblest of her admirers, Emilia.” Even now Zoe was spending the morning at the Palace, whither she had been summoned by a special messenger to cheer the Princess, who was prevented by slight indisposition from accompanying her husband to the arena to watch the games. Eirene reflected with pleasure that not only was this romantic friendship beneficial in the extreme to the Theophanis cause, but also that the Princess’s devotion was likely to keep Zoe a good deal out of Wylie’s way.
There was an old feud between Eirene and Wylie, which had only been temporarily bridged over when Zoe’s rejection of him called forth her sympathies. He had seldom shown the Princess sufficient deference to satisfy her, though he was never otherwise than polite, and she had an uneasy suspicion that he despised the various little assumptions by which she sought to assert her dignity. Maurice gave her no support in these matters, she thought bitterly, and she was sure she had caught Armitage laughing when she hinted that it was more correct to say he had gone out “in attendance on” the Prince than merely “with” him. Why, even when they were about to enter the royal carriages sent to convey them to Bashi Konak, Maurice had flatly refused to let Zoe sit with her back to the horses. “But you are the Emperor, Maurice,” his wife had pleaded. “I’m not Emperor yet,” he replied promptly; “and when I am, if the imperial funds don’t run to a separate carriage for Zoe, one or other of us will stay at home.” Trials like this made Eirene almost despair of her husband. Other people might think such things trifles, but to her, brought up in a Court, their real importance was manifest. How was Maurice ever to assume his proper place if he would not submit to the rules governing his caste? Even his wife could not prevent him from taking his own line. When she had succeeded in goading him to a certain course of action, as often as not he would somehow contrive to carry it out in a wholly unexpected way. It was he who had sent for Wylie, and disconcerted her grievously by doing so, for she had relied on his English dislike for foreigners to keep him isolated from his supporters and dependent on her for counsel. It did not mollify her displeasure when, in answer to her remonstrances, he remarked, “I want one honest man at my back that I can trust, to look after you and Zoe and the little chap, if anything happens to me.” “I could trust our people,” she had said reproachfully; to which he replied, “Oh, could you? I couldn’t,” and went out to post his letter. And here was Wylie established as Maurice’s guide, philosopher, and friend, in no way inclined, apparently, to presume upon the favour shown him, but still the one man in whom Zoe had ever shown more than a contemptuous interest. Almost unconsciously, Eirene had come to regard her sister-in-law, during the last few years of planning and plotting, as an asset that might be valuable, rejoicing when she refused various eligible offers. But of what avail were those refusals if she turned again, after all, to the man for whose sake they were made? If only Zoe could have been safely engaged to some desirable person before Wylie reappeared on the scene! As that was not the case, however, it was a moral duty to keep her from throwing herself away on an obviously unsuitable man, who could contribute nothing but his sword to further the great cause, and whose loyalty was already certain.
While these thoughts were passing through Eirene’s mind, some one came into sight at the end of the garden path, some one who was cheerfully contributing a good deal more than a sword to the cause. Princess Theophanis knew, though her husband did not, the exact nature of the cargo carried at the present moment by Armitage’s yacht, which was cruising at large without its owner in the eastern Mediterranean, and paying only rare and hurried visits to territorial waters. Armitage was a valuable asset without any drawbacks such as attached to Wylie, and Eirene felt that Maurice had shown even more than his usual unwisdom in declining to accede to her suggestion, and dispense with his old friend’s services, when she announced that Armitage would take part in their venture. She met him with a friendly smile as he came towards her down the path.
“I have just had a letter from Waters—that’s my captain—which will relieve your mind, ma’am,” he said. “It was all a false alarm about that Pannonian man-of-war they thought was shadowing them. Waters took a bold course and went on board her to ask if they could give him any news of me, and they paid him a return visit quite in an unsuspicious spirit.”
“I wish we could get rid of the arms,” said Eirene anxiously. “The slightest accident, or an incautious remark from one of your crew, might——”
“Give the whole show away,” supplied Armitage, as she paused. “I suppose we could arrange to hand the things over to one of the bands if we could fix on the right spot to land them; but I thought that wasn’t what you wanted, ma’am?”
“No, no; of course not! It is absolutely essential that we should keep a supply in our own hands, that we may not be dependent upon any of the Committees. And we must not land and conceal it on any of the islands, in case it should be necessary to act suddenly. Even now I fear we may not be able to communicate with your yacht quickly enough in case of a crisis.”
“I have thought of a way of doing that, ma’am. Waters is lying at present in a little harbour called Pentikosti, just to the south of the Dardanian frontier. He has made friends with the Roumi officials, and applied a little palm-oil judiciously, giving them to understand that I may come down over the mountains at any time, and the yacht is to wait for me. They will give him every facility for hearing from us, and he will stand on and off outside the harbour, and keep a good look-out both ways.”
“It is excellent!” said Eirene warmly. “Your ingenuity is as admirable as your helpfulness, Lord Armitage. I trust that one day I shall be able to reward both.”