The Prize

by Sydney C. Grier

While the Consuls were busy taking counsel with one another, and Professor Panagiotis was employing every means in his power to ensure a full attendance of the members of the Assembly on the morrow, the party at the Palace was the same as that which had met at Klaustra on the night of Danaë’s short-lived social triumph. Many changes had taken place since then, but the most surprising was the transformation in Princess Theophanis. It was difficult to believe that she was the woman who but a short time ago had turned her face to the wall in bitterness of soul and longed for death, or the weary chatelaine of Klaustra, haunted by the knowledge that the battle she was fighting had already been decided against her. Now she moved regally about the stately rooms, almost as if she felt she had a rightful place there. She showed marked kindness to Danaë, and Danaë and Zoe commented on the fact to one another.

“What a change to have been brought about by the mere prospect of a temporary regency!” said Zoe. “I suppose she feels that it establishes Maurice’s position, but really she is no nearer her ambition than ever.”

“The Lord Theophanis is pleased to see the change,” said Danaë.

“Yes, isn’t it pathetic to see his eyes following her about? She is like what she was when he married her, before her ambition had come between them. There really was a time when she seemed to think love was enough, but it didn’t last.”

“I wonder,” said Danaë slowly, “whether she would speak to me so kindly if she knew that, were the choice mine, the regents would be the Lord Glafko and you, lady?”

“I really don’t think it would affect her. She knows that nothing would induce us to take Maurice’s place, and I’m afraid she wouldn’t care much what your wishes were, Danaë. What are you going to wear to-morrow?”

“Not kalpak and dolman, at any rate,” said Danaë, with a sigh of relief, for her two days of command were like a nightmare to look back upon. It was an immense comfort to feel, when she rose on the morrow, that all the military arrangements were in Wylie’s capable hands, and that Armitage and she could resign themselves to take a purely decorative part in the day’s proceedings. There was an unusual sense of stir about the city, for the country-people, with whom the story of the hard-fought and apparently hopeless fight in Hagiamavra was rapidly assuming the character of a national epic, were pouring in to see Prince Theophanis and his brother-in-law. The Palace square was crowded long before the carriages were ready to start, and the Place de l’Europe Unie so closely packed with a friendly, good-humoured throng that it was difficult to make a way for them. The elements of disorder were not in evidence to-day, at any rate, and the soldiers received cordial welcome, while Maurice and Eirene were greeted with tremendous cheering. The triumph lasted until they had actually reached the threshold of the Chamber, but here came a disagreeable interruption. The foreign Consuls had learnt or divined the cause of the visit, and were assembled to protest against it in the name of Europe. That Prince Theophanis should be proclaimed regent during the illness of Prince Romanos was not to be thought of. Since there was no question of a hereditary dynasty, Janni had no rights that needed protection, and if it was simply a matter of appointing a guardian for him, it would be most incorrect to choose a person who had made himself so prominent in politics. As for the maintenance of government and tranquillity in Emathia, that might safely be left to the Powers. If Prince Romanos felt himself unequal to his duties, he had only to resign them into the hands of Europe, and Europe would proceed to agree upon his successor, as it would have done if he had held office for the full five years of his appointment.

The protest was read in the name of his brethren by the Pannonian Consul-General, who succeeded in restraining a smile even when he spoke of the agreement of Europe, and it evoked loud murmurs among the members of the Assembly who heard it. The language in which it was couched was distinctly unfortunate from the point of view of its promoters, for the Emathians had been learning for nearly four years to regard themselves as a free people electing their own sovereign, and now they were abruptly reminded that their country was still technically dependent on Roum, and that their liberties existed at the mercy of the Powers. The news filtered through the crowd in the portico to the greater crowd in the square, and cries of anger began to rise. But Professor Panagiotis kept his head. Requesting Maurice’s permission to reply, he inquired deferentially what exactly it was that the representatives of Europe desired. Since the natural anxiety of Prince Romanos, in view of the events of the past week, for the safety of his family and the stability of his government was not to be allayed, would he be permitted simply to appoint a guardian for his child? There was much murmuring among the nearer Emathians at the Professor’s conciliatory tone, especially when Herr Melchthal replied, with scarcely veiled contempt, that Europe had no desire to interfere with the guardianship of a mere private individual such as Prince Joannes Christodoridi. The Professor countered swiftly. Yet it seemed that his Highness was not allowed to appoint his honoured brother-in-arms, Prince Theophanis, to the charge of his child; might he, then, appoint the Cavaliere Pazzi, the father of his deceased wife? There was some demur at this, for was not the Cavaliere the heir of Maxim Psicha? But the discontent of the deputies and the people was growing so highly pronounced that the Consuls yielded the lesser point, having gained the greater, and the Professor went down the steps to lay the news before the invalid at the Palace. But the square was now in a turmoil, and the crowd, unreasonable in their indignation, refused to let him pass. He had betrayed Emathia, and they would keep him until the Prince’s answer arrived. Professor Panagiotis bowed to the storm, and a messenger was sent off. A time of tension followed, the Consuls, though masters of the field, looking decidedly uncomfortable in face of the sour looks cast upon them. The deputies glared askance at the Professor, who chatted with great unconcern to the party from the Palace. They were almost as uncomfortable as the Consuls, not knowing whether anything had gone wrong, or whether a preconceived plan was being worked out.

“If only the Consuls had made their protest before we started!” lamented the Professor, as the moments went by. “It is so thoughtless of them to keep the Princess standing like this! You would not care to wait inside the building, madame?” he asked solicitously of Eirene, who shook her head. “His Highness’s answer must come soon, of course,” he resumed. “Perhaps he will even telephone—” he was looking in the direction of the Palace, in spite of his words, and his jaw fell. “Kyrie Eleēson!” he cried violently, and crossed himself.

The rest followed with their eyes the direction of his shaking hand, and Consuls, deputies and crowd turned with them to look along the street which led to the Palace. The standard of Prince Romanos was flying at half-mast from the flagstaff.