A SECRET INTERVIEW
I wondered if they would not detect the odor of my cigar, and thus
discover that they were not alone in the garden, but the draft carried
the smoke away from them; and then I became absorbed in what they were
saying.
"I can give you only a few moments, Ivan," murmured the princess. "My
guests will miss me. You should have come to me later."
"I know; but it was impossible. There is a meeting to-night, and our
good friends are very anxious to hear something from you. When can you
be present to tell them in your own words what you accomplished during
your journey?"
The tone of the question was masterful, and unconsciously I resented
it.
What right had any other man to address my princess in that manner? for
already I found myself regarding her as _my_ princess. I knew now that
I had wandered into the garden solely for the purpose of being alone to
think about her, and that in my short journeys up and down the paths,
finally ending among the cushions of the Turkish bower, I had had her
with me for a companion. You will discover by this statement that I was
still mindful of her presence near me, even though I had left her in
the drawing room while I went away alone; but it is always possible to
conjure a personal presence if the mind is sufficiently intent upon it,
and even though that presence be not physical, it is nevertheless real.
The tone of the man who was speaking with her in the adjoining bower
was masterful, as I have said. More than that it was familiar. It was
even intimate, I thought, and I was conscious of a silent rage when I
heard it.
I sensed his words subconsciously, and yet I had thoroughly
comprehended them. He had spoken of a meeting of their "very good
friends" and I had no doubt to whom he referred; neither had I any
doubt at the moment, that this man talking so confidentially with the
princess, was one of the "marked" members of that rapidly widening
group of persons whom my busily engaged employees were learning to
know.
It was with a distinct shock, however, that I realized by virtue of the
intimate manner of the man, that Zara de Echeveria must also be
implicated with the nihilists, since he dared to speak to her so
openly, so masterfully, and with such confident reliance upon the
manner in which his communication would be received. Her reply
convinced me sufficiently, had I required added conviction at that
moment.
"I do not know," she said. "Say that I will send word to them in the
usual way, and at the earliest opportunity. Say that I was entirely
successful; that everything in Paris and Berlin is in the most
excellent condition, and that nothing--absolutely nothing, you
understand--must be done without my knowledge and permission."
"Our friends are becoming very impatient, Zara."
"Zara!" I unconsciously repeated the name after him, but it was under
my breath, so that not a sound escaped me. Who could this man be who
dared to address my princess by her given name, for in my secret soul
she was my princess still, even though she had already said enough to
convince me that she was an enemy to the czar whom I was serving.
"Let them. They must wait," she responded, with decision. "I will not
be hurried. They are sworn to obey me. Tell them to await my pleasure.
It is enough."
"There are some among them--you know who they are--who chafe under this
restraint, Zara. I am afraid that they will get beyond your control
unless something is done speedily."
"Let those who are loyal to me serve _them_ as _they_ would serve
Alexander, if there is any sign of insubordination," was the haughty
rejoinder. "Such is my order; and now, Ivan, you must go. Stay though!
What of Jean Morét?"
"He is dead."
"Dead? Do you know that to be true?"
"No. He has disappeared from the palace, nobody knows whither. He has
not gone to Siberia and our agents cannot find him in the city prisons.
We have made every effort. Doubtless he betrayed himself in some manner
and was quietly put out of the way."
"I will investigate the matter. He might have betrayed us, if caught
and put to the torture. I can make Prince Michael tell me. Morét was
more fool than knave, and he might have been induced to talk."
"He might have betrayed _us_; he would never betray _you_, Zara."
"I do not think so; and yet, it may be that I have gone too far with
him. It is plain that I must make my prince talk."
Her prince! God! How the expression rankled! What revelations this
overheard conversation was bringing to pass! From being in the seventh
heaven of bliss, transported there by the few moments I had passed in
the society of Zara, I was now plunged into the hell of doubt,
uncertainty, and disillusionment. She spoke of "her prince"--and there
could be no possible doubt that she referred to Prince Michael--as if
he were already a mere puppet in her hands, to bow before her and fawn
at her feet, as she willed it. And the prince, great and noble by
instinct and nature, who had with such dignity admitted to me his love
for her, was having his feelings and his affections played upon as a
skilled performer touches the keys of a piano.
It was a new and unsuspected phase of Zara's character thus unfolded to
me; and it was a most disquieting one. Standing with her as I had done
among her guests, seated beside her as I had been for a few moments
before I left her to go into the garden, I had believed in her as a
devout worshipper believes in his deity, thinking no evil, believing
that she could do no wrong, and placing her upon a pedestal that was
high above all of the petty considerations of ordinary humanity. And
then, as if to add to the sudden pain that was in my heart, this man
who dared to address her by her given name, and whom she called Ivan,
chuckled aloud as he remarked with unwonted intimacy:
"You have only to encourage him a little, Zara. The prince will talk.
Never fear. Your power----"
"Encourage him!" It is impossible to describe the sense of outrage
which Zara de Echeveria managed to include in the enunciation of
those two words. Listening from my place among the cushions in the
Turkish bower, I was conscious of a feeling of gladness that it was
so; that she resented the tone of the man, as well as the words he
had uttered; that she repudiated utterly the insinuation he had
made. "You use the term as if you thought it were a pleasure to me
to lead men on, simply because God gave me the beauty and the power.
I hate it; oh, how I hate it! Suppose that Jean Morét _is_ dead,
who, then, in God's name is responsible for his death? I, I alone!
Do you think that I am so heartless that I can look upon such things
with no pang of self-reproach? I wish that I were old and ugly,
fortuneless and an outcast--or dead. Then I would not be compelled
to prostitute my beauty and my talents to conspire with a rabble of
scoundrels and convicts who discuss murder and assassination as if
they were pastimes."
"Hush! You do not realize what you say, Zara. Your own life----"
She laughed outright, interrupting him.
"My own life! Do you think I care for that? I wish they would kill me
and so end all this hateful, horrible scheming to murder and destroy."
"Hush, Zara! hush! You must not talk in that way."
"Not talk that way?" The princess laughed somewhat wildly, I thought,
from my place of concealment, but still she made no sound that could
have penetrated much farther than I was distant from their interview.
"Not talk that way?" she repeated, and this time was silent for a
spell, as if she were herself considering the reasons why she should
not do so. There had been more of fright than menace, in the tone of
the man called Ivan, when he cautioned her, and I could imagine how
terrorized any member of the nihilistic fraternity must be if there
were the least danger that disloyal thoughts of theirs might find
lodgment in unsuspected places. "I will talk that way; I will talk as I
please; nor you, nor any one, shall stand between me and my liberty of
action and speech. What care I for all the murderers and assassins who
form this terrible society of which we are members? Hear me? They could
only swear my life away as they have done to others in many parallel
cases. They could only destroy me; and Ivan, sometimes, upon my bended
knees I pray for death. What matter would it be to me how death might
come, so long as I am prepared to welcome it? I hate and loathe myself
when I stop to consider all the contemptible acts I am compelled to
perform, when I pause to realize the utter prostitution of self-respect
I am forced to undergo, in order to carry on the plots of our 'good
friends,' as you call them. Good friends, indeed! To whom, let me ask
you, do they demonstrate the friendly spirit? Where can you point to a
friendly act done by any one of them, unless it is to a prisoner
already condemned, or to an assassin who is in danger of arrest? My own
life?" she laughed again. "Ivan, were it not that I honestly believe
that I can, by myself accomplish some great good in this undertaking, I
would destroy that life with my own hands; for I tell you that it would
be much easier to drive a poniard through my own heart, or to swallow a
cup of poison, than it is for me to make sport of the affections of
such men as the stately, generous Prince Michael, or that poor
love-sick fool, Morét. Hush! don't say another word to me on the
subject of warning, for it only angers me, and fills me with a contempt
which I find it difficult to master."
"But, Zara, you must not talk so. I cannot listen."
"Then leave me. Go. I wish to be alone for a time before I return to
the salon. Deliver my message, and also the order I gave you."
I heard no more after that, but I knew that he had gone, although there
was no sound of his departure. Then I listened for the rustle of the
princess' dress when she should move away. Presently it came. She
sighed, then rose from the couch where she had been sitting, and I knew
that she had stepped out upon the path. I closed my eyes, the better to
think upon the remarkable revelations that had come to me as a result
of that conversation. One, two, five, perhaps ten minutes I remained
thus, turning the extraordinary incident over in my mind. But presently
I opened them again, lazily and slowly at first, and then with a sudden
start, for they encountered the form of the princess where she stood as
motionless as a statue but with one arm extended holding back a palm
leaf which half filled the entrance to my place of concealment.
God knows what impulse it was that had impelled her, in parting with
her recent companion, to pause at the Turkish bower in which I was
concealed, and so, to discover me. I had heard no sound whatever. I had
supposed that both were gone. The shock induced by the revelations I
had just overheard, the disillusionment I had experienced in regard to
Princess Zara, had affected me more than I realized, and the act of
closing my eyes and thinking it over had been the result of the same
impulse which sends a frightened woman to her own room, to close the
door behind her in order that she may be alone. By the act of closing
my eyes, I shut out the world by which I was surrounded--that world
which had now become so hateful to me because of the work I had to do.
But nevertheless I looked up steadily into the eyes of the princess,
wondering at the calmness and grace of her attitude, and amazed that
she should not show more consternation than she did, at the discovery
that there was a witness to her interview with the man Ivan. Save for a
suggestion of pallor which had driven away the natural flushes from her
cheeks, and perhaps for an added brightness, or rather a different
brightness, to her eyes, she was the same as ever, although the smile
which she now bestowed upon me seemed a bit constrained.
[Illustration: I LOOKED UP STEADILY INTO THE EYES OF THE PRINCESS,
(Page 132)]
"You are not sleeping," she said, calmly, but with conviction. The
remark was not a question; it was a statement.
"No," I replied, as calmly.
"And have not been asleep?"
"No."
"You heard?"
"Yes, princess, I heard."
She was silent, and minutes passed before she spoke again, so that I
began to wonder if she had decided to say no more.
"Mr. Dubravnik," she said, and in English, "will you do me one favor in
regard to this conversation you have overheard? Will you keep my
confidence till to-morrow?"
I wondered again at the princess' coolness. Realizing the peril she was
in, as she must unquestionably have done, it was strange that she could
command herself so well as to remain perfectly in possession of all her
faculties, in the face of such dire peril.
For a moment I hesitated. It was a very great favor that she asked of
me so calmly; just how great a favor it was, she could not know; and
yet there was no reason why I should not grant her request, being what
I was and who I was. In that interval I wondered what this beautiful
creature before me would think, or say, if she could have guessed that
it was the chief of the most remarkable secret service bureau in the
world whom she was addressing; if she could have guessed that the very
man among all other men, whom she would least have thought of taking
into her confidence, was the one before her who had listened to the
conversation.
"Yes. I will do that," I replied, as deliberately as she had asked the
question; and I watched her closely as I did so, holding myself well in
hand, the while, in order that I might not instantly fall again under
the spell of her fascinations.
"And come to me then? I will expect you at noon."
"Yes, princess."
"I thank you, sir. And now, if you will give me your arm, we will
return to the drawing room."
I could not help marveling at the wonderful self possession of the
woman whose life, liberty, honor, happiness, and whose all, had been by
means of the conversation I had overheard, placed utterly at my mercy.
Even though I were really what she supposed me to be, an ordinary
citizen, the danger was no less, for I had but to repeat what I had
heard, to bring about an investigation which could result in only one
way. Her composure was absolute as we walked side by side towards the
house, nor did she once refer to the subject upon which we were both
thinking so deeply. She was a shade paler than usual, but beyond that
there was no sign that anything out of the ordinary had occurred; nor
did she manifest any evidence of the nervous fear which would have
prostrated most women in such a predicament.
Neither of us recurred to the subject that was uppermost in our minds.
Indeed we were silent during the moment that was required to traverse
the length of the garden, and to pass from it into the house where the
company was assembled.
But I was conscious of a subtle change in the character of my feelings
towards Zara de Echeveria. The fascination that had enthralled me a
little while back, was tempered now by a wholesome dread of this
riotously beautiful creature who could use her God-given feminine
attributes to attain such deplorable ends. What had seemed to me to be
a creature of utter loveliness, had now degenerated to a thing that was
momentarily horrible, because what I had believed to be all purity, and
all perfection, had suddenly been revealed as something that was akin
to unmoral.
We parted at the door, she to cross the room and join a group of her
guests who were clamoring for her while I loitered, with no purpose
save to avoid comment on the apparent fact that the princess and I had
been so long a time together in the garden. The prince joined me while
I stood there. He was accompanied by a man whom he wished to introduce
to me.
"Ah, Dubravnik," he said. "I have been looking everywhere for you.
Didn't know but you had gone. This is my friend Alexis Durnief. You've
each heard me talk about the other, so you should be good friends."
"Captain Alexis Durnief?" I asked, shaking hands with him.
"The same," he replied. "Just returned from one of the far posts in
Siberia, and I am very glad to be back here again. I haven't had an
opportunity to greet the princess yet; you kept her in the garden so
long."
I thought that he gave me a significant glance as he made the laughing
remark, but as the princess herself joined us at that moment, I did not
give it a second thought. He gave her his arm, and they went away
together, leaving the prince and myself alone.
"I think, if you do not mind, I will go," I said. The house of Princess
Zara had suddenly become hateful to me."
"What! At this hour? Why?" Prince Michael was amazed.
"Oh, there is no reason, other than that I feel like it," I told him,
shrugging my shoulders and trying to look bored.
"Then stay. Some of the best people are not here, yet. Or did your half
hour in the garden upset you, Dubravnik?" He essayed a light laughter
as he asked the question, but it had a hollow sound, nevertheless.
"Not at all," I assured him.
"I can assure you that it is an honor which the princess confers upon
very few of her friends, and never on new acquaintances. You are the
only exception I have ever known," he added.
"Indeed? We met in the garden by accident, and in reality were together
not more than two minutes--the time that it takes to walk the length of
it, so I do not feel as greatly honored as I might have done if she had
gone there with me and had given me all that time----"
"I did not have an opportunity, for you never asked me to do so," said
the soft tones of the princess immediately behind me; and as I turned
she added: "but these rooms are suffocating, so if you will give me
your arm now, Mr. Dubravnik, we will lead the way, and perhaps the
others will follow. I know that the gentlemen are longing for an
opportunity to smoke."
"Dubravnik was on the point of leaving us," the prince called after
her. "You arrived just in time, princess. Perhaps you can persuade him
to change his mind."
"Were you contemplating suicide, Mr. Dubravnik?" she asked laughing;
but there was an undercurrent of gravity in her question which was
deeply significant.
"Something very like it," I replied, as gravely, "since I was about to
leave your presence."
"Supposing you to be serious"--and I felt that her hand unconsciously
tightened its clasp upon my arm as we moved away--"would it not be
better for me to do the deed, than for you?"
"I am afraid that the supposition is altogether too foreign to my
nature for me to entertain it, princess."
We had entered the garden, and a throng of guests were trooping after
us. I glanced down at my companion, and saw that she was regarding me
rather anxiously through her lashes.
"Suicide is the only solution for all problems at once," she said.
"Pardon me; it is the solution for only one."
"Only one? What is that?"
"Moral cowardice."
"But there may be circumstances where it offers the only means of
escape from an alternative that is infinitely worse, Mr. Dubravnik." We
were in the act of passing one of the little side paths, and I drew her
into it, noticing that there was just a suggestion of resistance from
my companion when I did so; but it was only for an instant. Then, as I
paused abruptly underneath one of the green shaded globes, she added,
as though she knew that I perfectly understood her: "I have really been
considering the subject quite seriously."
I looked down at her. The green hue of the light above us seemed to
have transformed her into a spirit. It had changed the color of her
dress, of her hair, and it had touched her cheeks as with a magic wand
which softened and heightened every feature. Instead of transforming
her into something that she was not, I was convinced that it brought
her back from what she was not to what she really was. At all events, I
realized that she was in deadly earnest.
In that moment I felt again all the spell of this woman's charm as she
stood before me, beneath the glow of that shaded light, looking up into
my face with her beautiful eyes now widened with serious concern, with
her full, lithe, graceful body pulsing with life so close to mine,
while she talked calmly, and seriously I knew, too, of destroying it by
her own act.
What a place to talk of suicide, there, in the midst of that oriental
garden, voluptuous with a thousand unspoken suggestions, laden with the
perfume of flowers, glowing with the many colored lights that illumined
it, rustling as with the sound of hidden insects as the gowns of
gorgeously bedecked women brushed against the growing things! Over our
heads, beyond the glass roof, the storm still howled, although with
less violence, and the contrast seemed strangely in keeping with the
condition of my own mind, outwardly so calm and composed, yet torn by
the thousand conflicting emotions that were induced by the proximity of
this entrancing creature, and the knowledge of what her fate, and
therefore mine, must inevitably be.