A DISPLAY OF SWORDSMANSHIP
On quitting the presence of the princess, Paul and Zabern took their
way through the palace gardens, where they were met by two individuals
in uniform, whom the marshal introduced to Paul. The more youthful of
the two, who had fair hair, blue eyes, and a comely face that seemed
to indicate habitual good humor, was Dorislas, and he held the office
of Minister of Finance. The other, a somewhat sullen-looking
personage, was Miroslav, the governor of the Citadel, "and," added
Zabern, "the present guardian of your friend the duke."
"Ah! the duke," said Dorislas to the governor. "I marvel, Miroslav,
that you have not yet been called upon to defend your Bastille. What
are your friends in Russograd thinking of, that they so tamely submit
to the duke's imprisonment?"
"The marshal's placards explain the reason. At the first attempt upon
the Citadel the duke is to be brought forth upon the battlements, and
summarily shot."
"And therefore," commented Zabern, "it is a pity that they do not make
the attempt."
"Well, you know the marshal and his ways by this time," laughed
Dorislas, addressing Miroslav. "When to-night you see a wild mob with
blackened faces advancing upon the Citadel and crying out for the
release of the duke, be sure that Zabern is somewhere among them,
disguised and playing the part of chief instigator."
Zabern and his two friends, so it appeared, were on their way to the
_salle d'armes_, which stood in the centre of the palace gardens. In
this hall it was their custom, provided that state affairs were not
too pressing, to fence daily. Zabern invited Paul to accompany them.
"And the cipher despatch, marshal?" said the new secretary, who,
having Barbara's interests at heart, was desirous of beginning work at
once.
"A little fencing on your part will quicken both blood and brain."
So Paul acquiesced, somewhat reluctantly, and while he and the
governor of the Citadel strode on in front, Zabern, adopting a more
tardy pace, followed in the rear conversing with Dorislas.
"Marshal, what is this mystery?" asked the Finance Minister with a
significant glance in Paul's direction. "There is a strange rumor that
he and the princess were together in Dalmatia, and that she there
presented him with a sapphire seal which had been given to her by the
duke himself. Within twelve hours of his coming to Czernova he is
challenged to a duel by Bora. Her Highness, on hearing of the affair,
flies to rescue the Englishman, sends her affianced husband to prison,
but permits the other duellist to go free. And now you bring the
amazing news that the princess has made this Woodville her secretary.
What is the meaning of it all?"
"You had better ask her Highness," said Zabern dryly, and abruptly
changing the subject of conversation, he added: "Did anything of
importance take place at the Diet last night?"
"What, marshal! haven't you heard?" cried Dorislas, his face
expressing the extreme of amazement.
"Heard? I've heard nothing. I was occupied in searching for that
assassin Russakoff till seven this morning, since when I have been
asleep. What new folly, then, did you and the rest of the ministry
perpetrate in my absence?"
"You know, of course, that the first order of the evening was the
notification to the House of the princess's change of faith. Scarcely
had Radzivil risen to make his statement, when he was interrupted by
Lipski with a sneering remark to the effect that the premier might
spare his words, for the Diet knew very well what he was going to say,
and that it would have been more becoming on the part of the princess
to have taken the House into her confidence earlier, and not to have
waited till her hand had been forced by the article contained in his
newspaper, the 'Kolokol.'"
"Damn his insolence! And of course the Muscovite crew howled applause?
Was Ravenna in his place?"
"No; the cardinal, having been the chief instrument in the princess's
conversion, shrank somewhat from facing the wrathful Muscovites last
night. He preferred the opera-house."
"The coward! Would that I had been there!"
"What! at the opera? Yes, it was well worth visiting, because--"
"A truce to your fooling. What happened next?"
"After order had been restored--for, of course, Radzivil's statement
provoked a devil of a row--Lipski rose and begged leave to bring in a
new bill. Lamenting the increased taxation--and you know, marshal, my
Budget is devilishly heavy this year--he introduced a measure for the
appropriation of all plate, jewels, and money belonging to the
conventual establishments throughout Czernova, such wealth to be
devoted to the needs of the state."
"Ha!" cried Zabern. "This is nothing else but an attack upon the
princess's faith. 'I have become a Catholic,' she avers. 'Then we will
plunder your Church,' is, in effect, the Muscovite answer."
"True, marshal; for though the bill affects to treat both creeds,
Latin and Greek, alike, yet inasmuch as the Latin convents are
numerous and wealthy, while those of the Greek faith are few and
comparatively poor--"
"It's a case of 'I'll share my kopek with you, if you'll share your
rouble with me,' eh?"
"Just so, marshal. Well, the bill was rushed through its first
reading--"
"Fire and brimstone! where, then, was our party with its splendid
majority?"
"You forget that Rubini was here last night."
"Who's he?" asked Zabern, whose ignorance of everybody and everything
outside the circle of politics was simply astounding.
"Come, marshal, you jest--Rubini, the Italian, the great
opera-singer."
"The devil fly away with him! Well?"
"The opera was 'The Bohemian Girl.' Rubini took the part of Thaddeus.
It would have brought the tears to your eyes, marshal, to hear him
sing, 'When the fair land of Poland was ploughed.'"
"It would--to hear a damnable Italian turning the sorrows of our
fatherland into a medium for putting rouble-notes into his pockets.
But what has this to do with the Diet?"
"Why, most of those on our side of the House went to hear Rubini."
"Including a simpleton named Dorislas. And so Lipski and his Muscovite
crew took advantage of the emptiness of the benches on the Right to
spring this new bill upon the Diet. But, sword of St. Michael, didn't
Radzivil send Opalinski to the opera-house to summon away the absentee
fools?"
"He did, with this result. When Opalinski arrived Rubini was singing,
and our whip became so entranced that he quite forgot the errand on
which he had come, till--till it was too late. When our fellows came
trooping back they were met with derisive laughter from the Left."
"The bill had already passed its first reading?"
"Precisely, marshal. But that's not all. Lipski had likewise proposed
that, pending the issue of this infernal bill, the precincts of the
monasteries shall be patrolled by the military."
"To prevent the monks from removing their treasures."
"That's the object. The Diet passed the resolution. Radzivil, as
servant of the House, was obliged to submit, with the result that
to-day there is not a monastery in Czernova that has not bayonets
moving round it."
"Including the Convent of the Transfiguration?" asked Zabern.
"Including the Convent of the Transfiguration," answered Dorislas.
Zabern muttered some oaths under his breath. Presently, however, he
broke into a grim smile.
"Lipski is a shrewder fellow than I gave him credit for. A clever
stroke this on his part--to prevent us from entering that monastery by
turning our own bayonets against us."
"Marshal," said Dorislas, looking very grave, "if Lipski's measure
should pass--"
"If?" repeated Zabern disdainfully. "We will extinguish it on the
second reading."
"Which has been fixed for this day month. Lipski boasts that there are
surprises in store for ministers, that there will be numerous
defections on our side."
"'Boasts'--that is a good word, Dorislas."
"If that bill should become law, commissioners appointed by the Diet
will make a round of the monasteries for the purpose of appropriating
their wealth; when they come to the Convent of the Transfiguration
they will discover--"
"What we do not wish them to discover. But as the bill has not the
remotest chance of passing, we may preserve a serene mind on the
matter."
Dorislas said no more. Though he was of an optimistic nature, it was
clear from his grave manner that he did not share in Zabern's hopeful
views.
The quartette had now reached the _salle d'armes_. Over the portico
hung the banner of the Lilieskis, which Paul reverently saluted, for
was he not honoring Barbara by the act?
"That flag," said Zabern, "shall one day float over a wider area than
Czernova."
Passing beneath the portico, they entered a fine and spacious hall,
decorated in a style that harmonized with its use. Along the walls
were suits of armor, and pictures of duels, tournaments, and battles.
The oaken panels were hung with swords, muskets, and pistols, so
arranged as to form devices, the favorite one being the arms of
Poland.
"Whenever a man is mentioned to me for promotion," remarked Zabern, "I
always bring him here for a bout. Ten minutes' fencing will give me a
better idea of his character than a month's investigation."
Paul, in view of his recent appointment, wondered whether this remark
was intended for application to himself.
Among the Czernovese nobles and military officers assembled in this
hall was Count Radzivil, occupied in a fencing-bout. In Paul's eyes
the sight of the gray-headed premier of seventy parrying and lunging
with all the ardor of a boy of seventeen was significant of much. It
seemed like a preparation for more serious work in the near future.
What surprised Paul still more was a bevy of youthful ladies fencing
with each other at the far end of the hall; and of this number was
Katina, engaged in spirited contest with her sister Juliska, a maiden
so pretty that a man must have had the insensibility of a stone not to
have wished for a kiss.
All ceased their play upon the entering of Zabern, who in a brief and
graceful speech introduced Paul to the assembly as the princess's new
secretary.
The Englishman who had conducted the famous defence of Tajapore could
not fail to be a person of interest,--an interest enhanced by the fact
that he had not shrunk from facing in duel the champion swordsman of
Czernova.
Curious glances were interchanged, both among the ladies and likewise
among the gentlemen, the meaning of which was laughingly explained by
Zabern.
"The truth is, Captain Woodville, we are hoping to see a little
English sword-play, in order that we may know who is to be
congratulated by the princess's intervention yesterday,--yourself or
the duke."
Paul modestly professed himself willing to give a display of his skill
if any one would come forward to meet him.
"We have here," continued Zabern, "the six best fencers in Czernova
after the duke. If you can defeat any of these we shall be able to
form some notion as to how he would have fared at your hands."
The six champions in order of merit were adjudged as
follows:--Firstly, Zabern, the Warden of the Charter; secondly,
Miroslav, the governor of the Citadel; next, Dorislas, the Minister of
Finance; then Count Radzivil, the Premier; Brunowski, the President of
the Diet, followed; and, lastly, came Nikita the trooper.
"And," whispered Zabern to Paul, "if we were to choose a seventh it
would not be a man but a woman, and she none other than Katina."
Paul bowed to the six men, and expressed his readiness to meet in
fencing-bout any one of the number, or all in turn; and taking up a
fencing-blade, a blunt sabre with its point topped by a button, he
stood prepared to make good his words.
Across the middle of the hall upon the oaken flooring ran a silver
line to which the opposing fencers were required to apply their right
foot; they might step over this mark if they chose, but to recede from
it by so little as an inch was counted for defeat.
As Paul declined to nominate an antagonist there was a slight argument
on the part of the six as to the one who should first respond.
After some hesitation Count Radzivil stepped forward. "I fear I am too
highly appraised," he modestly remarked, "when I am placed among the
seven best fencers in Czernova."
All drew near to witness the contest. A double ring was immediately
formed, the ladies being seated in a circle with the gentlemen
standing in their rear, the placing of the chairs having naturally
afforded opportunity for some pretty pieces of gallantry.
Paul was secretly conscious that though Zabern with Katina and Juliska
might regard him favorably, he did not possess the sympathy of the
rest of the persons present, who resented the unaccountable act of
their princess in appointing as her secretary one who was not only a
foreigner but a complete stranger to the principality. Were there no
loyal Czernovese from whom her choice might have been made?
Paul knew, too, that among those who stood around were some who bore
the proudest names in Polish history; he himself had neither title nor
long genealogy, but if there be an order of nobility founded upon
superiority in swordsmanship he determined to show that he was a
member of that order, and that it would not be well for any man to put
a slight upon him, because of the favor shown him by the princess.
On finding himself engaged in a contest with the premier Paul felt
some mortification at being pitted against one so aged; but a few
moments' play convinced him that Radzivil's arm had lost little of its
youthful strength, or of its suppleness and dexterity. Paul, however,
was decidedly the superior; and, within the space of five minutes he
succeeded in disarming the count, whose blade flying through the air
would have struck Katina, had she not adroitly warded it off with her
own fencing-foil.
Zabern, who had watched Paul with eyes that had hardly winked once,
seemed pleased with the result.
"An accident!" commented Dorislas, really believing the premier to
have been the superior of the two.
He himself was the next to engage, and again Zabern watched every
motion of Paul with unwinking eyes.
As a swordsman Dorislas excelled Radzivil; but, heated with a desire
to vindicate the honor of Czernova, which he conceived had suffered at
the hands of the premier, he became rash, was more disposed to attack
than to guard, and the second contest terminated in less time than the
first by the button of Paul's sabre coming full tilt against the
breast of the Finance Minister.
"Fairly pinked!" said Zabern, evidently more pleased than before. "No
accident this time."
The expression of surprise and bewilderment on the face of Dorislas at
a result so little anticipated by himself was so comically pathetic
that the spectators could not refrain from laughter.
"You were a dead man, Dorislas, had that been a real duel," they
cried.
Paul was beginning to rise in their esteem.
Miroslav next ventured to try his hand, and once more Zabern became so
attentive that one might almost have fancied his own life hung upon
the issue.
Profiting by the lesson of Dorislas' rashness the governor of the
Citadel commenced in a spirit of coolness and watchfulness,--a spirit
that quickly evaporated when he found himself met at every point. He
gave more trouble than his predecessors, but in the end Paul succeeded
in twisting the weapon from his hand.
Zabern's pleasure increased.
"Good luck, not science," cried Miroslav, hotly, "I defy you to repeat
that trick, Captain Woodville. I must have a second bout."
This demand was not allowed by Zabern, though Paul himself
good-naturedly offered to grant it.
"Miroslav seems in savage mood to-day," whispered a fair lady to the
cavalier who was bending over her.
"He suffered a prisoner to escape yesterday," replied her partner,
"and as a consequence he had a _mauvais quart d'heure_ with the
princess this morning. _Hinc illæ lacrimæ._"
"Captain Woodville ought now to give his arm a rest," cried Katina.
But Paul, perceiving the favorable impression that he was making,
expressed his readiness to proceed without delay.
"I am now to be your opponent," said Zabern, taking up a fencing-blade
in his left and only hand, "and I warn you, Captain Woodville, to be
careful."
This caution was not without its need. Zabern was considered by those
best qualified to judge the second swordsman in Czernova, and Paul
quickly found that he had met an opponent nearly equal, if not equal,
to himself. The marshal had an arm of steel; as a warrior who had
faced the charge of bayonets on many a battle-field he was not likely
to become nervous in a mock-contest. Cool and wary, after a few
preliminary passes designed to test the other's skill, Zabern seemed
content to remain for the most part on the defensive, watching his
opportunity. Paul, conscious of the marshal's dexterity, was disposed
to do the same; and hence this fourth bout appeared somewhat tame when
contrasted with the spirited and dashing style of the preceding
contests. It promised to prove indefinitely long, till on a sudden
Zabern cried,--
"Hold, I have felt enough to know that I am your inferior, and as
such, Captain Woodville, I lower my sword to you."
Which he did in graceful fashion, and, oddly enough, seeming to be
extremely pleased over this acknowledgment of defeat.
"You would not have to make such confession, marshal," said Paul, "if
you could recover the good hand you left behind in Russia."
He turned to glance at his two remaining opponents,--Brunowski and
Nikita.
"If the marshal, the best of us all, admits himself beaten," said the
President of the Diet, "of what use is it for me to try?"
The trooper murmured something to the like effect.
"Give me leave," said Paul, "to retire from this silver line and to
move about freely, and I will meet my two remaining opponents
together."
"That were to take an unfair advantage of a man," said Brunowski,
resenting Paul's proposal as a slight upon his swordsmanship.
"Fair or unfair," growled Zabern, "step forward, both of you, and let
us see whether Captain Woodville can do it. If you deem his word a
boast, prove it to be such."
The ladies, too, curiously eager to witness fresh proofs of Paul's
skill, added their voices to Zabern's, and thus adjured the two men
came forward and faced Paul.
As plenty of space would be required for the coming bout, the ladies
arose, the chairs were removed, and a wide circuit formed.
"A thousand roubles to a hundred that the Englishman succeeds," said
Zabern to Dorislas, who seeing confidence written large on the
marshal's face, declined the wager.
This fifth contest formed a brilliant finale.
Smarting under what they considered contemptuous disparagement, and
eager to punish the vanity of the Englishman, Brunowski and Nikita
pressed hard upon Paul. Each was no mean fencer, though much inferior
to Zabern, and Paul was quickly compelled to retreat from the silver
line upon which he had at first planted himself. The previous work
seemed child's play when compared with this. The interchange of cut
and thrust was so swift that the eyes of the spectators failed to
follow the dazzling motions of the weapons. Despite their endeavors
the two men failed to touch Paul, who at last saw his opportunity.
With one powerful stroke he shivered Nikita's blade to fragments, and
almost simultaneously he planted the button of his sabre upon
Brunowski's breast.
The members of the assembly looked at one another in breathless
wonder. Among a people who, like the Czernovese, retain much of the
spirit of the feudal age, he is most in esteem who is best able to
defend himself. In one sense, therefore, Paul was the foremost man in
the principality. The resentment previously felt against him had now
changed to unalloyed admiration.
"Such swordsmanship was never seen in Czernova," cried Juliska.
"Ten thousand devils!" muttered Zabern to himself. "Why did her
Highness intervene in the duel yesterday?"
And then aloud he added,--
"Ladies and lords, we must all admit that his grace of Bora has much
reason to be grateful to the princess."
No one ventured to controvert this statement.
Zabern's eyes twinkled with secret satisfaction.
"Marshal," whispered Juliska. "You have some plan in your head. You
have been trying an experiment, I know you have. Come, tell me. Of
what are you thinking?"
"That the princess's coronation-day will be a very exciting time,"
replied Zabern, oracularly.
And this was the only answer she could draw from the smiling marshal.
"Beaten! The whole six!" cried Katina in a voice of grief. "Shame upon
Czernova! Captain Woodville will have but a poor opinion of us. Let us
show, however, that we can shoot if we cannot fence."
With this Katina directed one of the attendants to hang a square
white-painted board upon the wall at one end of the hall. Then taking
her station at the other end with a supply of loaded revolvers, she
proceeded to aim at the distant board, the shots succeeding each other
with a rapidity that scarcely left an interval of silence.
The result of this firing was to cause a large oval to appear upon the
surface of the board. The revolvers having been reloaded, Katina
resumed her shooting. Now within the oval lines and curves began to
appear, the whole assuming the outline of a human countenance, and
that so well executed as to be clearly recognizable by those
acquainted with the original.
"Orloff, the governor-general of Warsaw," cried several voices in
unison.
"Czernova will never lack a good tirailleur so long as Katina Ludovska
be living," said Zabern, adding in a lower tone, "why have you learned
to shoot so well?"
"Can you ask?" she replied in a fierce whisper. "Against the day of my
meeting with Orloff. Can any one beat that shooting?" she added aloud,
with an invitatory glance at Paul, who smiled a negative.
A shout of applause went up in favor of Katina, who was considered to
have redeemed the honor of Czernova.
"Ah! why were you not born a Pole?" said Juliska, addressing Paul.
"May I not become one?"
"Then shall you be a better Pole than any of us," said Katina, "for
whereas we are such by accident of birth, you will be such by freedom
of choice."
"Well said, Katina," observed Zabern. "And never was there one whom I
more willingly admit to Czernovese citizenship. But Captain
Woodville," he added, thoughtfully, "it will be well if you remain a
British subject for a few more days. Why, the sequel will show."
And Paul, believing that Zabern did not speak without good reason,
assented to the delay.
There was no more fencing in the _salle d'armes_ that day. The members
shrank from displaying their inferior powers before such an expert as
Paul. The assembly broke up into little groups.
"And how fares our ducal prisoner?" asked Radzivil, addressing the
governor of the Citadel.
"In somewhat gloomy mood," answered Miroslav. "He spends his time
chiefly in drinking old Rhenish, and in muttering to himself. By the
way, he did a very peculiar act immediately after entering the Citadel
last evening."
"Ha!" exclaimed Zabern, catching at this. "What was the act?"
"You know, marshal, it is our rule to search all prisoners on their
entering,--a routine from which we did not except even his grace."
"And what did you discover?"
"Upon his person--nothing; that is, nothing of consequence. But a few
minutes afterwards a soldier caught sight of the remains of a book
burning upon a fire that was close by."
"Flung there by the duke?"
"Without doubt. The mystery is how he contrived to do it without our
knowledge, inasmuch as there were several persons standing by."
"You recovered the book from the flames?"
"We attempted to remove it with the tongs, but the thing fell to
pieces; the pages were consumed; nothing but the leather cover
remained, and that all charred; upon it we could just discern the
title."
"And that was--?"
"'The Plays of Æschylus.' Now why should the duke desire to destroy
his copy of the Greek poet?"
"He had a motive, I warrant, and that a powerful one. I wish,
Miroslav, you had secured the volume in time. Æschylus, Æschylus,"
repeated Zabern, thoughtfully. "My classical scholarship has long
since evaporated, but if I remember rightly," he added, his
countenance suddenly lighting up with a new idea, "Æschylus wrote a
play called 'The Furies.'"
"True, marshal," replied Paul. "'The Eumenides' or 'The Furies.'"
Zabern, with excitement gleaming in his face, drew Paul aside.
"The clew to the cipher despatch!" he whispered. "The last words of
our friend Trevisa were '_the furies_'!"