THE KING AND THE CHANCELLOR
I began to understand Von Lindheim's disquietude; all the same,
although the Chancellor's system of espionage was pretty notorious, I
did not quite see what my friend had to be so afraid of. True, I was an
Englishman, and we know the aphorism; then he, too, was half English
and a Rugby boy. Still, I suppose he counted as a native under the heel
of the man known throughout Europe as the Red Chancellor, the man who
never stood any nonsense.
"That Von Rallenstein?"
"And you really never saw him before?"
"Never before to-night; not even his photograph."
"That is not extraordinary," she replied in a low voice. "He has never
allowed himself to be photographed."
I began to speculate how this great statesman came to be in that
undignified position outside the chapel window, and to marvel at the
customs of the land in which I found myself. Then I recollected that my
partner expected me to dance, not muse, and we whirled on.
The waltz came to an end. As we stopped I felt myself touched on the
shoulder. A man, evidently one of the officers of the household, was
at my side. He addressed me by name. "His Majesty desires to make your
better acquaintance when the honoured Fräulein can spare you, sir."
It was of course a command, so I took my partner to a seat and
made for the daïs. The King and the Chancellor were still chatting
confidentially as I approached. The former received me very graciously,
and presented me to Von Rallenstein, who shook hands in a manner which
was almost British. The conversation at once glided into a perfectly
easy groove; the King was very affable, and courteously interested
himself in my movements, asked me how I liked the country and city,
how long I thought of staying, what part of England I lived in, was
pleased to hear I had come over for sport; asked me several questions
on horse-breeding, and said, as the subject was one in which he took
peculiar interest, he should esteem it a great advantage to have the
benefit of my advice and experience, and would go more fully into it
at an early opportunity. All this was very pleasant; Von Rallenstein
chimed in now and again with a pertinent remark or leading suggestion;
he seemed agreeable enough, and I began to think Von Lindheim's bugbear
was principally of his own making. Of course any one could see that the
Chancellor was a strong man and a masterful, but, after all, he had
a peculiar country to govern, and those were the qualities necessary
to that end. Had I never seen that cruel, almost fiendish face at the
window, I should have thought its owner a very good fellow--for his
place. In this world of weaklings one does not admire a man less for
his grit and power.
Presently the talk halted; and I understood from the King's manner that
the interview was to close. He dismissed me very graciously, hoping I
should enjoy myself both that evening and during the whole of my stay
in his country. Von Rallenstein added a word or two, and I bowed myself
off.
"How did you find the King, and, more particularly, the Chancellor?"
Fräulein von Winterstein inquired when I rejoined her.
"Not very alarming. But then I am--an--'outsider.'"
A gorgeous being came up whose twinkling eyes were in ludicrous
contrast to his fiercely brushed-up moustache.
"Ah, here is Herr Oberkammerer Eilhardt," exclaimed the girl,
introducing us. "Herr Oberkammerer, our friend Mr. Tyrrell wishes to be
acquainted with Herr Rittmeister von Orsova, whom I know to be a great
friend of yours. Mr. Tyrrell is interested in the First Regiment of
Cuirassiers."
The Herr Oberkammerer bowed with an energy begotten of Court life.
"It would charm me to be the medium of bringing our much-honoured guest
into friendship with the Herr Rittmeister. My friend Von Orsova of a
certainty comes to my rooms here to conclude the evening and drink a
glass of wine. If Herr Tyrrell would honour me likewise?"
I thanked him and accepted.
"That will be capital," my partner said. "You can discuss arms and
horses, and enflame your martial spirits over some of the Royal
Steinberger Cabinet."
"I can answer for the quality of the wine," Eilhardt returned. "The
dance is nearly at an end; we keep early hours in Buyda. I cannot leave
until his Majesty retires. But if you will meet me here ten minutes
after the King's departure, I shall do myself the honour to conduct you
to my apartment."
I agreed, and with a flourish he left us, swaggering off towards the
royal party.
"It is just as well to have a quiet chat with Von Orsova," Fräulein von
Winterstein observed. "He is too fond of the dance to say many words to
one here."
"To a man."
"_Bien entendu._ He is a perfect waltzer."
"Happy partners!"
"Take care."
"Why?" her manner made me ask. Then I followed her eyes and saw the
reason of her whispered caution. The tall Rittmeister was waltzing with
the Princess. They passed quite close to us. He was talking to her
with an earnestness far beyond the usual ball-room trifling, or even
flirtation.
"A serious affair."
"Mr. Tyrrell, you are hopelessly indiscreet. Ah!"
Suddenly the band stopped. The King had risen abruptly and was
evidently about to retire. The musicians stood up and played the
National Hymn. The Princess Casilde went quickly to her father, a
procession was formed, and having interchanged bows with the company
the royal party retired.
There was to be a dance or two more; and, as though relieved by the
departure of royalty, every one seemed to become more animated, smiles
were now laughter, and the excessive, almost oppressive decorum of the
dance vanished.
My partner had hurried away with a bewitching "_Auf Wiedersehen!_" to
join the royal party. Left alone, I betook myself to the corner of the
ball-room where Herr Eilhardt was to find me.