State dinners, those long, tedious affairs at which the conversation is
always stilted and the bearing of everybody is stiff and unnatural,
always bored the Crown Princess Claire to death.
Whenever she could she escaped them; but as a Crown Princess she was
compelled by Court etiquette to undergo ordeals which, to a woman not
educated as an Imperial Archduchess, would have been impossible. She
had trained herself to sit for hours smiling and good-humoured, although
at heart she hated all that glittering formality and rich display.
There were times when at her own Court at Treysa, at the military
anniversary dinners that were so often held, she had been compelled to
sit at table with her husband and the guests for four and five hours on
end, without showing any sign of fatigue beyond taking her
smelling-salts from the hand of her lady-in-waiting. Yet she never
complained, though the eating, and more especially the drinking,
disgusted her. It was a duty--one of the many wearisome, soul-killing
duties which devolve upon a Crown Princess--of which the world at large
is in utter ignorance. Therefore she accepted it in silence, yet bored
always by meeting and speaking with the same circle of people day after
day--a small circle which was ever intriguing, ever consumed by its own
jealousies, ever striving for the favour of the aged king; the
narrow-minded little world within the Palace who treated those outside
as though of different flesh and blood to themselves.
Whether at a marriage, at a funeral, at the opera, at a review, or at a
charity _fete_--everywhere where her Court duties called her--she met
the same people, she heard the same interminable chatter and the same
shameful scandals, until, unhappy in her own domestic life, she had
grown to loathe it all, and to long for that liberty of which she had
dreamed when a girl at her father's castle at Wartenstein, or at the
great old Residenz-Schloss, or palace, at Pressburg.
Yet what liberty could she, heiress to a throne, obtain; what, indeed,
within her husband's Court, a circle who dined at five o'clock and were
iron-bound by etiquette?
The State dinner at the Imperial palace that night differed but little
from any other State dinner--long, dull, and extremely uninteresting.
Given in honour of a Swedish Prince who was at the moment the guest of
the Emperor, there were present the usual circle of Imperial Archdukes
and Archduchesses, who after dinner were joined in the great reception
room by the Ministers of State, the British, French, and Italian
Ambassadors, the Swedish Minister and the whole staff of the Swedish
Embassy in the Schwindgasse. Every one was in uniform and wore his
orders, the Emperor himself standing at the end of the room, chatting
with his young guest in French.
The Crown Princess Claire, a striking figure in turquoise chiffon, was
standing near, discussing Leoncavallo's new opera with her cousin, the
Princess Marie of Bourbon, who had arrived only a few days before from
Madrid. Suddenly her eye caught the figure she had all the evening been
in Search of.
Count de Lindenau, Privy Councillor, Chamberlain, Minister of the
Imperial Household, and Minister for Foreign Affairs of the Austrian
Empire--a short, rather stout, bald-headed man, with heavy white
moustache, with the crimson ribbon of the Order of Saint Stephen of
Hungary across his shirt-front and the Grand Cross in brilliants upon
his coat--stopped to bow low before the Crown Princess, who in an
instant seized the opportunity to leave her cousin and speak with him.
"It is really quite a long time since we met, Count," she exclaimed
pleasantly. "I met the Countess at Cannes in January, and was delighted
to see her so much better. Is she quite well again?"
"I thank your Imperial Highness," responded the Minister. "The Countess
has completely recovered. At present she is at Como. And you? Here
for a long stay in Vienna, I hope. We always regret that you have left
us, you know," he added, smiling, for she had, ever since a girl, been
friendly with him, and had often visited his wife at their castle at
Mauthhausen.
"No; I regret that I must return to Treysa in a few days," she said as
she moved along and he strolled at her side down the great gilded room
where the little groups were standing gossiping. Then, when his
Excellency had asked after the health of the Crown Prince and of the
little Princess Ignatia, she drew him aside to a spot where they could
not be overheard, and halting, said in a lower tone,--
"I have wished to meet you, Count, because I want you to do me a
favour."
"Your Imperial Highness knows quite well that if I can serve you in any
way I am always only too delighted." And he bowed.
More than once she had asked favour of Lindenau, the stern Foreign
Minister and favourite of the Emperor, and he had always acted as she
wished. She had known him ever since her birth. He had, indeed, been
present at her baptism.
"Well, it is this," she said. "I want to give my recommendation to you
on behalf of Count Leitolf, who is at present chief of the King's
private cabinet at Treysa, and who is strongly desirous of returning to
the Austrian diplomatic service, and is anxious for a post abroad."
Mention of Leitolf's name caused the wily old Minister to glance at her
quickly. The rumour had reached his ears, and in an instant he
recognised the situation--the Crown Princess wished to rid herself of
him. But the old fellow was diplomatic, and said, as though compelled
to recall the name,--
"Leitolf? Let me see. That is Count Carl, whom I sent to London a few
years ago? He resigned his post to take service under your
father-in-law the King. Ah yes, I quite recollect. And he now wishes
to be appointed abroad again, eh? And you wish to recommend him?"
"Exactly, Count," she answered. "I think that Leitolf is tired of our
Court; he finds it too dull. He would prefer Rome, he tells me."
"Your Imperial Highness is well aware that any recommendation of yours
always has the most earnest attention," said the Minister, with a polite
bow. His quick grey eyes were watching the beautiful woman sharply. He
wondered what had occurred between her and Count Carl.
"Then you will send him to Rome?" she asked, unable to conceal her
eagerness.
"If he will present himself at the Ministry, he will be at once
appointed to the Embassy to the Quirinal," responded his Excellency
quietly.
"But he will not present himself, I am afraid."
"Oh, why not?" inquired the great Austrian diplomatist, regarding her in
surprise.
"Because--" and she hesitated, as a slight flush crossed her
features--"because he is rather ashamed to ask for a second appointment,
having resigned from London."
The old Minister smiled dubiously.
"Ah!" he exclaimed confidentially, "I quite understand. Your Imperial
Highness wishes to get rid of him from your Court, eh?"
The Princess started, twisting her diamond bracelet nervously round her
wrist.
"Why do you think that, Count?" she asked quickly, surprised that he
should have thus divined her motive.
"Well, your Imperial Highness is rather unduly interested in the man--if
you will permit me to say so," was his answer. "Besides, if I may speak
frankly, as I know I may, I have regarded his presence in your Court as
distinctly dangerous--for you. There are, you know, evil tongues ever
ready to invent scandal, even against a Crown Princess."
"I know," she said, in a low, changed voice. "But let us walk;
otherwise they will all wonder why I am talking with you so long," and
the two moved slowly along side by side. "I know," she went on--"I know
that I have enemies; and, to confess the truth, I wish, in order to show
them that they lie, to send him from me."
"Then he shall go. To-morrow I will send him orders to rejoin the
service, and to proceed to Rome immediately. And," he added in a kindly
voice, "I can only congratulate your Imperial Highness upon your
forethought. Leitolf is entirely without discretion. Only this evening
I was actually told that he had followed you to Vienna, and--"
But he stopped abruptly, without concluding his sentence. "And what
else?" she asked, turning pale. Even the Minister knew; therefore
Leitolf had evidently allowed himself to be seen.
"Shall I tell you, Princess?"
"Certainly; you need not keep anything from me."
"I was also told that he is staying at the Hotel Imperial, and that you
had called upon him this afternoon." She started, and looked him
straight in the face.
"Who told you that?" she demanded.
"I learned it from the report of the secret agents of the Ministry."
"Then I am spied upon here!" she exclaimed, pale with anger. "Even in
my own home watch is kept upon me."
"Not upon your Imperial Highness," was the great Minister's calm reply,
"but upon the man we have recently been discussing. It was, I venture
to think, rather indiscreet of you to go to the hotel; although, of
course, the knowledge of your visit is confidential, and goes no further
than myself. It is a secret of the Ministry."
"Indiscreet!" she echoed with a sigh. "In this polluted atmosphere, to
breathe freely is to be indiscreet. Because I am an Archduchess I am
fettered as a prisoner, and watched like a criminal under surveillance.
My enemies, jealous of my position and power, have invented scandalous
stories that have aroused suspicion, and for that reason you all believe
ill of me."
"Pardon me, Princess," said the crafty old man, bowing, "I, for one, do
not. Your anxiety to rid yourself of the fellow is proof to me that the
scandal is a pure invention, and I am only too pleased to render you
this service. Your real enemies are those around your husband, who have
hinted and lied regarding you in order to estrange you from Court."
"Then you are really my friend, Count?" she asked anxiously. "You do
not believe what they say regarding me?"
"I do not, Princess," he replied frankly; "and I trust you will still
regard me, as I hope I have ever been, your Imperial Highness's friend.
I know full well how Leitolf craved your favour for recommendation to
your King; and you, with a woman's blindness to the grave eventualities
of the future, secured him the appointment. Of late you have, I
suppose, realised the fatal mistake?"
"Yes," she said in a low voice; "I have now foreseen my own peril. I
have been very foolish; but I have halted, and Leitolf must go."
"Very wise--very wise indeed! Your Imperial Highness cannot afford to
run any further risk. In a few months, or a couple of years at most,
the poor King's disease must prove fatal, and you will find yourself
Queen of a brilliant kingdom. Once Queen, your position will be
assured, and you will make short work of all those who have conspired to
secure your downfall. You will, perhaps, require assistance. If so,
rely upon me to render you in secret whatever help lies in my power.
With you, a Hapsbourg, as Queen, the influence of Austria must be
paramount, remember. Therefore I beg of your Imperial Highness to
exercise the greatest discretion not to imperil yourself. The Crown
Prince must be allowed no loophole through which he can openly quarrel
with you. Remain patient and forbearing until you are Queen."
They were in a corner of the great hall, standing behind one of the high
marble columns and unobserved.
"I am always patient, Count," was her rather sad response, her chest
heaving beneath her chiffon. "As you well know, my marriage has not
been a happy one; but I strive to do my duty to both the Court and the
people. I make no denial to you. You doubtless know the truth--that
when a girl I loved Count Leitolf, and that it was an act prompted by
foolish sentimentalism to have connived at his appointment at my
husband's own Court. Betrayed, perhaps, by my own actions, my enemies
have seized upon my embarrassing situation to lie about me. Ah," she
added bitterly, "how little they know of my own dire unhappiness!"
"No, no," urged the Minister, seemingly full of sympathy for her,
knowing the truth as he did. "Bear up; put a brave countenance always
towards the world. When Leitolf has gone your Imperial Highness will
have less embarrassment, and people cannot then place any
misconstructions upon your actions. You will not have the foolish young
man following you wherever you go, as he now does. At noon to-morrow I
will sign the decree for his immediate appointment to Rome, and he will
receive but little leave of absence, I can assure you. He will be as
much a prisoner in the Palazzo Chigi as is his Holiness in the Vatican,"
he added.
"Thank you," she answered simply, glancing gratefully into his grey,
deeply-lined face; and as he bowed to her she left him and swept up the
room to where the Emperor was engaged in conversation with Lord
Powerstock, the British Ambassador.
The old Minister's face had changed the instant he left her. The mask
of the courtier had fallen from the wily old countenance, and glancing
after her, he muttered some words that were inaudible.
If she had but seen the evil smile that played about the old
diplomatist's lips, she would have detected that his intention was to
play her false, and she might then have saved herself.
But, alas! in her ignorance she went on light-heartedly, her long train
sweeping behind her, believing in De Lindenau's well-feigned sympathy,
and congratulating herself that the all-powerful personage behind the
Emperor was still her friend.
The Minister saw that she was satisfied; then turning on his heel, he
gave vent to a short, hard laugh of triumph.