THE QUEEN’S ADVOCATE.
The reception was outwardly a very brilliant affair indeed, with
multitudes of flashing lights, clever colour effects, lavish
decoration, and a prodigal wealth of flowers, as the setting for the
showy uniforms of handsome men and the magnificent dresses and jewels
of pretty women.
One’s first impression was an irresistible tribute to the perfect
æsthetic triumph which had been achieved. But that impression was
only momentary. Knowing as I did the cloud of peril which encircled
the whole court, the scene soon appeared to me to be rather a ghastly
mockery of Fate than a bit of beautiful realism; and I caught myself
wondering how men could caper and jest and women smile and frivol in
pretended unconsciousness of everything but the pleasure of the hour.
I recalled the chamberlain’s words of the day before--that the whole
thing was arranged in my honour. _My_ honour indeed! To kow-tow to the
man with the dollars! To bow the knee to mammon! To fool and weedle me
and dazzle me with a beautiful farce gorgeously mounted, until I would
loose the strings of my own and my friend’s money bags, and pour out
the golden stream to enable this kind of burlesque to be continued.
Then I caught sight of Gatrina and fell into a condition of troubled
anxiety and delicious anticipation from which someone recalled me in
order to present me to their Majesties--the young King and that most
remarkable of women, Queen Draga.
I am not likely to forget that moment. The King who, in obedience to
one of those impulses of his overpowering self-will had had courage to
choose his wife from among the people and was by nature, I believe, a
capable, clever and strong man, was overshadowed by his magnificent
Queen. Beautiful she was not; the face was too strong, too powerful,
too imperious; and although she was grace personified, in every
movement and gesture of her perfectly-framed figure, it was by the
wonderful magnetism of her personality that she dominated all who once
yielded to the magic influence she exercised.
The few words of greeting which she spoke to me, welcoming me to
Belgrade, and expressing the hope that I liked the capital, were
uttered with a charm that made the merest commonplace phrase beautiful,
and endowed it with the point of significant meaning of rare eloquence.
At least so it all appeared to me while my own words sounded awkward,
clumsy and crude in contrast.
I was replying to a question in this way when Gatrina approached the
Queen, and I saw her look at me and start in intense surprise; flushing
first and then turning white as the gauze dress she wore, her eyes
unable to leave my face.
A few seconds passed while I went on with my reply, rambling almost at
random in my confusion as I fought my way back to self-possession.
The Queen noticed something in my manner, and I saw the expression of
her wonderful eyes change for a fleeting instant until she dropped them
and appeared not to observe my confusion.
What I said I know not; but she smiled graciously and saying that we
should have another opportunity of discussing the matter, turned to
Gatrina.
“I must present you to one of my favourites, Mr. Bergwyn, the Princess
Gatrina. She is most kindly disposed to all Americans, and will tell
you all about Belgrade.”
The next moment I was bowing to Gatrina and the King and Queen, and
their circle moved away leaving us together. I mumbled some commonplace
about being charmed to have such a guide. This was for the benefit
of those within earshot about us; and before she could reply an
interruption came.
Elma swept up, superbly dressed and full of confidence, and held out
her hand to me.
“How do you do, Mr. Bergwyn? I am glad to see an old friend here. How
pale you look, Gatrina. Are you ill?”
“No, thank you. The room is hot.”
“That is so often the cause, isn’t it?” she replied, with flagrant and
almost insolent disbelief in the excuse. “You must be careful, dear.
You are not strong since your terrible experience recently. Do you know
of the princess’s adventure and escape, Mr. Bergwyn?”
“I have but just been presented to her, Baroness.”
“Oh, I thought you had met before,” she exclaimed. “Of course, I don’t
know why--but then one never does know why one makes such mistakes,
does one? Let us go and sit down. You are such an object of attention,
Mr. Bergwyn, that you’ll be positively mobbed if we stand here. It
isn’t every day we see an American millionaire in Belgrade where we’re
all as poor as mice in churches.”
She led the way to some seats, and not knowing what else to do, we
followed. She played with admirable confidence. What she knew or
guessed about that time in the Bosnian hills, I could not tell, any
more than I could see her motive. But she seemed to understand that
she had us at a disadvantage and made the most of it adroitly. She was
resolved to pose before Gatrina as an old friend of mine, and I did not
see how to stop her, although every word had its barb for me.
“You would be surprised, Mr. Bergwyn, and I think you ought to be
flattered, at the number of people who wish to know you,” she said
as soon as we were seated. “The moment I said you were an old friend
of mine, I was pestered, literally pestered, by people wanting to be
introduced.”
“I am here on business only, Baroness.”
“Here, to-night you mean. Oh, yes, of course, I know that. But you used
to have a keen liking for pleasure you know;” and she smiled as though
she knew a hundred secrets about me all elaborately dissipated and
disgraceful.
“I did not mean to-night,” I corrected. “I meant my visit to Belgrade.”
“Of course, how very stupid of me. Why, it might have sounded as if I
meant that in speaking to Gatrina you would be thinking of business.”
She laughed with a sort of malicious gaiety. “How very stupid I am. But
then, we do call you the Queen’s Advocate, don’t we, Gatrina?”
“Mr. Bergwyn may misunderstand you, Baroness.”
“Oh, no, not the least fear of that. We understand one another
perfectly, do we not, Mr. Bergwyn?”
“In what way do you mean, Baroness?” I asked, pointedly.
She took up the challenge readily and laughed, quite joyously. “Why as
old friends, old and intimate friends ought to understand one another,
of course. What else should I mean?” Deny that old friendship to
Gatrina, if you dare, was in the look she gave me.
“The seven years which have passed since we last met, Baroness, have
been the stern years of my life,” I answered, for Gatrina’s benefit.
“And in them I have forgotten the follies of my childhood in the real
life of the world.”
“What a sage you must have become!” she laughed; but the laugh was more
palpably forced than before. “Do you know,” she added, “I am just dying
to tell you of this adventure of Gatrina’s among the brigands. May I,
Gatrina?”
“No. It would not interest Mr. Bergwyn, nor amuse me.”
“That was the adventure in which the dog, Chris, played a part; as I
told you yesterday, Mr. Bergwyn. Isn’t it an extraordinary coincidence,
Gatrina, that Mr. Bergwyn should have an immense dog, positively an
immense creature of the same name, Chris? I declare I’ve been thinking
about it ever since I left your house;” and she turned to me with a
glance. Her audacity increased with every fresh thrust she made.
“There are many big dogs in the world, Baroness, and not nearly enough
names to go round. Thousands of them must bear the same; and a dog is
not like us, you see, and cannot change its name.”
“Yours is such a splendid creature, too,” she said, ignoring this.
“Huge, almost black, smooth-coated; just the kind of dog you would
love, Gatrina.”
“You make me curious. I must have an opportunity of seeing it, Mr.
Bergwyn,” said Gatrina, steadily, looking at me for the first time
since I had spoken to her. She was quite calm and self-collected now,
and Elma’s interposition had served one good purpose. It had given us
both time to get over the surprise and confusion of the meeting.
“It will give me great pleasure, Princess,” I answered gravely. I
understood, of course, that she did not intend Elma to know the truth
about the hill business.
“You are feeling better again now, dear?” said Elma, solicitously. “I
am so glad. I wonder what upset you. However, you have got over it,
and that’s the great thing. I suppose it _must_ have been the heat
unless”--with a pause and a mischievous shrug of the shoulders--“unless
it was the shock of meeting Mr. Bergwyn so unexpectedly.”
“I am obliged to you for the implied compliment, Baroness. Do you
think the Princess expected an American citizen to wear a cowboy’s
dress or a red man’s war paint?” I laughed, and Gatrina joined me.
“I assure you, Mr. Bergwyn, the Baroness can make the most wonderful
mistakes,” she said. “I did not understand for the moment what she
meant about your dog; but I believe I see it now. I do, indeed.” She
was a better actress than Elma after all, and her merry laugh now was a
most natural one.
“I must plead my complete mystification, I fear.”
“Of course, you can both misunderstand,” said Elma, spitefully.
“I really must tell you now, Mr. Bergwyn,” declared Gatrina; “although
I said just now it would not interest you. Elma has made it interesting
and quite amusing, although the adventure she speaks of was very far
from being amusing. You know there are still some brigands left in the
Bosnian and Herzogovinian hills.”
“Brigands?” I exclaimed in a tone of astonishment.
“I am afraid we must admit it. Well, some of them conceived the idea
that if they carried me off they would get a good ransom; and they
did it. But they did not get the ransom, for I escaped. After a most
exciting ride I was saved by a peasant with a big dog, called Chris;
and because you have a dog of the same name, I really believe the
baroness thinks you must be a peasant in disguise of an American
millionaire. Isn’t it ingenious and clever of her?”
“I did not say anything of the kind,” snapped Elma, viciously.
“Of course, we have tried to let as little as possible get known of the
matter, Mr. Bergwyn, but this delicious theory of the baroness’s has
made such a joke of it, that really I think I must tell everybody now.
Would you mind if I were to say plainly that you are not an American
gentleman but a Bosnian peasant, and that I know that to be true
because you have a big dog called Chris? It’s such a convincing reason,
you see.”
“Anything that would associate me with you, Princess, would be a
pleasure,” I returned, with a bow and a smile, as if I were paying her
a mere conventional compliment.
“You are trying to make me appear very ridiculous, Gatrina,” exclaimed
Elma, angrily.
“I declare I shall tell the Queen and get her to let us have a tableau
in which I should be the maiden in distress, and you the peasant
rescuer, Mr. Bergwyn. You could get a very picturesque dress, you know;
and I am sure you could play the part. But to make it complete we ought
to have the baroness in, because it’s her idea; and yet I don’t see
what part to give her,” and Gatrina laughed.
“I think I can offer a suggestion,” said I, deliberately. “We could
reverse the thing; and instead of the Baroness being the one to
discover the truth, let her have planned your abduction.”
Elma started, her eyes flashed with sudden anger at me, and she changed
colour.
“What is the matter, Baroness? You are not well,” said Gatrina with a
startled glance at me, followed by a searching look at Elma’s white
confusion.
“It is my turn to feel the heat,” she replied, trying to force a laugh.
“Really, Mr. Bergwyn, I shall begin to be afraid you have some effect
on the atmosphere. First it upset Gatrina, and now me.”
“You did not like my suggestion, I see. I will withdraw it,” I
answered, quietly. “Pray pardon me.” Gatrina sat thinking hard; and I
guessed I had started the line of thought. “It is a curious thing,” I
went on, as if merely to cover the pause; “but I have had more than
one experience of the kind. I mean where I have been in conversation
with people and suddenly, without any palpable cause, they have been
overcome--by the atmosphere.”
“You must be a dangerous man,” laughed Elma, who was quickly recovering
herself.
“Not dangerous, I trust, to--my friends”; and I bowed and smiled, and
gave her a look which she understood.
We were interrupted then by someone who came from the Queen.
“Her Majesty desires me to remind your Highness that the dancing is
about to commence,” he said to Gatrina, and added to Elma, “Her Majesty
desires to speak with you at once, Baroness.”
Elma rose. “I suppose I am interfering with your business and so am
ordered away,” she said with a sneer.
“Will you give me a dance, Princess?” I asked. The moment we were alone
the feeling of restraint was revived.
“It is by the Queen’s desire,” she answered, with a shrug as she put
the tips of her fingers on my arm and I led her away. It was a waltz
and we danced it in silence. At the close I did not know what she would
wish to do, and as I hesitated, she said suddenly:
“I suppose we must keep up the pretence. We are to go through into the
further conservatory.” The place was empty save for a couple of chairs
making a sort of cosy corner; and as I guessed the arrangement was of
the Queen’s making, I blessed her for her unwitting thoughtfulness.
Gatrina was very pale, and as she sat down she exclaimed impulsively:
“It is almost maddening. You might have spared me this.”
“What is maddening?”
“Please not to pretend you don’t understand. That can only make matters
worse than they are.”
“I understand that I wish very urgently to speak to you; but if you
would prefer another time, I will go;” and I got up.
“And so force me to give some false explanation to the Queen of what I
cannot explain truly. Thank you.”
I sat down again. “Can’t we clear the air a bit?” I asked.
“Having done this miserable thing you pretend not to know what it is. I
suppose you can see that all this is arranged. That I was to dance with
you, make myself agreeable to you, bring you here where we could be
undisturbed, and then talk you into carrying out this miserable loan.
You can see that surely, as clearly as you can see how successful you
have been in humiliating me. You must be very glad and proud of your
success.”
“Thank you.”
“Then if you didn’t plan it, why didn’t you let me know why you were
coming to Belgrade? Why not tell me who you were really? Why not give
me time and means to avoid you? Oh, it is intolerable! You knew I was
to play jackal for the Queen with the American money-man. Elma herself
told you I was what she calls the Queen’s advocate. Ugh!”
“I don’t like to hear you speak of the Baroness von Tulken by her
Christian name, as if she were your friend.”
“Is it one of the conditions of your financial business that you
control the friendships of the Court of Belgrade?”
She was unreasonably angry, and, of course, abominably unjust.
“I don’t see why you do me that injustice? I could not possibly know
that the Queen would intentionally throw us together, and as for
humiliation----”
“You knew it yesterday. The Baroness--Elma, told you so.” I smiled at
the aggressive way in which she paused and threw up her head as she
made the correction in the name; and the smile irritated her to still
further anger. “I dislike evasion and pretence, Mr. Bergwyn.”
I winced a bit under the lash of her words, and paused; and just at
that moment my memory played me a prank. That scene at the camp when we
had our first sharp will contest leapt suddenly into my thoughts, and
when her face had worn pretty much the same resolute angry expression.
Then I leaned back in my chair and replied very deliberately:
“That’s just where you’re wrong, I think. If you knew anything about
me you’d know I like evasion and pretence and falsehood. The man who
can do a dirty unmanly trick in the dirtiest and most selfish way is
just my type; and if he can do it to a woman--in the way I’ve done it
to you, for instance--he’s my hero. Of course, he must be a big sort of
brute; cunning, despicable, and mean; a clever beast at getting women
into a false position so that he can enjoy a laugh to himself by making
them suffer--and the more they suffer the more he hugs himself. You
know the kind of man; you must, because from what you’ve said about
me----”
“I don’t wish to hear any more about your ideals, thank you.”
“I was only filling in the details to your rough outline. But what I
want you to understand is, your outline is right and that you have just
such a brute to deal with in me.”
She did not answer for quite a time and sat tearing to pieces nervously
a leaf she had plucked from a plant near.
“I did not say anything of the kind.”
“You see it’s this way,” I said, not heeding her words. “I came to
Belgrade to humiliate you, to insult you, to trample----”
“Don’t, Mr. Bergwyn,” she cried, quickly.
I threw up my hands as one who is aggrieved. “You won’t let me tell you
the truth, you see. I think it’s a little hard on me, anyway. A man
doesn’t get many chances of complete self-revelation; and I was just
enjoying----”
She was looking straight out in front of her and turned her head with
one swift glance that stopped my banter. I broke off and said very
earnestly:
“If I did not come for that purpose then I came to serve you.”
“You should not have come at all. You cannot serve me.”
“On the contrary I have already done so. I know what you do not--the
reason behind your--behind the supposed brigand business.”
“What do you mean?”
“You heard what part I suggested for the Baroness von Tulken in the
tableau. She would know how to play the part to the life.”
She sat up suddenly and faced me, her features flushed and her eyes
eager.
“How do you think you know this?”
“I don’t think. I know. The scheme was laid here in Belgrade, and the
men who carried it out were hired and paid by the Duke Barinski. I can
produce the men who will identify him.”
“It can’t be. How did you learn it?”
“Money; and the aid of a staunch friend of yours.”
“A friend of mine?”
“Karasch.”
“Karasch? Karasch.” She repeated the name in a tone of reminiscence,
very gentle and low, and putting her hand to her eyes sat back as if in
dismay or pleasure at the associations connected with it. But a moment
afterwards the emotion, whether pleasure or pain, passed, and her face,
as she took her hand from it and sat up again, was colder and sterner
than I had ever seen it.
“And you connect the Baroness with this?”
“I do, and can prove it.” Her eyes hardened and her lip curled.
“I congratulate you upon your manliness, Mr. Bergwyn. I know the real
reason for your presence in Belgrade; the Baroness told me that: your
old and intimate friend whom you are now maligning in this chivalrous
way.”
And then I knew that Elma had, indeed, been talking about that old
time; and I understood many things; amongst them the mess of mischief
she had brewed for me.