THE POLISH CONSPIRACY
On the evening of the day that had witnessed the envoy's defeat a
masked ball was held, and the halls and gardens of the Vistula Palace
were alive with gay revellers.
The centre of attraction was the spacious ball-room, where, beneath
golden chandeliers that shed a radiance brighter than that of the sun,
moved a crowd of Czernova's noblest and fairest.
The picturesque character of the dresses, the glow of color, the
perfume of flowers, the gayety of the music, and the rippling laughter
of fair masqueraders, formed a scene bewildering and intoxicating to
the senses.
Amid this throng moved Paul Woodville in eager quest of the masked
Barbara, who had refrained from telling him what costume she would
assume. If he were a true lover he ought to be able to penetrate her
disguise, she had playfully observed, and if he failed to discover
her, why then the want of discernment on his part should bring its own
punishment.
As he moved here and there witching glances were cast at him by masked
ladies, for as regards figure and dress, few were more qualified than
Paul to serve as a cavalier.
He had adopted the old Polish costume. With a four-cornered cap
adorned by a waving heron plume, silken "contuschi" that fell in
graceful folds around well-shaped limbs clad in tight silk hose, short
boots decorated with gold lace, and a curved, diamond-hilted sabre
swinging lightly by his side, Paul walked among the men present, the
noblest figure of them all; and many whispering inquiries were
interchanged as to his identity.
At length Paul caught sight of a graceful figure, robed in the
silver-gray habit of a nun, standing solitary by the entrance of a
corridor leading from the ball-room.
He watched and saw her with a pretty shake of her head repel in
silence the addresses of three cavaliers in succession.
As Paul drew near, the lady suddenly turned her head and flashed a
glance at him through the eyelet-holes of her black silk vizard. That
glance was sufficient, and in another moment he was by her side.
"Fair lady," he whispered, "why this sad costume?"
"Is it not the garb of innocence?" returned the lady in a low and
obviously disguised voice.
"True, but it is also the negation of love."
"And why should I not frown upon love?"
"Because you would be gainsaying the vows you made to me in the old
Greek temple."
"Ah, Paul! you have discovered me," she whispered, her lips smiling
beneath the lace of her mask. "Now I, in turn, will ask, 'Why this old
Polish costume?'"
"I adopted what I thought would most please you."
"And it does please me," she replied with a tender light in her eyes.
"And it is suitable to the character of the revelation you shall hear
to-night. Come, we will not dance just yet. Take me to the gardens, to
the Long Terrace."
Conscious of something odd in her manner, Paul, drawing her arm within
his own, conducted Barbara from the brilliant ball-room to the quieter
scene without, and on reaching a retired corner of the marble terrace,
he seated her beside himself.
It was a lovely midsummer night. The air was pure and temperate, and
alive with the plash and sparkle of numerous fountains. The silver orb
of the moon, set in a dark-blue sky, and the colored lamps gleaming
everywhere among the foliage combined to produce a poetical glamor
that might have gladdened the eyes even of Titania herself, the Queen
of Fairyland.
"Who could have thought," said Paul, after complimenting Barbara upon
the admirable manner in which she had out-manoeuvred the Russian
envoy, "who could have thought when we first met in that Dalmatian
forest that a great empire would one day demand my extradition, and
that you would bravely refuse to grant it!"
"And I will not surrender you, Paul. No, not if it should cost me my
throne."
How sweet it was to hear such words from this fair princess! She who
was a match for the Czar's envoy to set such store by him! This maiden
pressing tenderly to his side scarcely seemed to be the same person
who that morning had filled a throne with such dignity. Nor was she.
Love had entirely transfigured her.
"Paul," she said quietly, "I have told the duke that I cannot marry
him."
"How did he take the tidings?"
"He said little, but his face expressed much--"
"Much--?"
"Hatred, then, if you will have the word. Excluded from the cabinet,
and from the command of the army, he is not likely to sit down quietly
under such dishonoring. And," she added with a sigh, "he is a
political force to be reckoned with."
"Sweet princess, give me leave to resume the duel with him, and you
shall soon be rid of one whom you seem to fear."
"No, Paul, no," she said, laying her hand affectionately upon his;
"promise me that you will not fight with him again."
"Does the princess command?"
"No; your Barbara entreats," she said with a soft pressure of her arm.
Who could resist such an appeal as this?
"I do not doubt your ability to overcome the duke, for Zabern has told
me of your feat in the _salle d'armes_; but you forget that duelling
is illegal in Czernova. Would you have me send you to the Citadel?
Moreover, if you should slay the duke it would become the aim of every
Muscovite fanatic to slay you. As it is, I fear you will carry your
life in your hands, when men come to learn that you are the cause of
the duke's rejection. Czernova is but semi-civilized, and
assassination is the favorite political weapon here. I would, Paul,
that you would do even as Zabern."
"And what is Zabern's habit?"
"He wears chain-mail beneath his clothing."
"An uncomfortable arrangement, I should say. For my own part I will
rely on my right arm and on my good sword. Fear not for me. But,
dearest Barbara, will you not unmask, and let me see your face, if
only for a moment?"
She shook her head tantalizingly.
"I would if I dared, but who knows what eyes may be watching me at
this moment? There are Russian spies at this masquerade, so Zabern
assures me. I must not be recognized in this guise. Ah! who comes
here?" Paul felt her arm trembling upon his, as there moved slowly
along the moonlit terrace a tall and stately figure robed in a
monastic habit. His cassock was identical in its shade of gray with
the nun's gown worn by Barbara, and like hers, it was marked on each
shoulder with a red cross.
Having reached the place where Barbara sat, the monk paused, surveyed
her attentively for a moment, and then spoke,--
"May a brother claim a few words from a sister of the same order?"
"How know you that I am of the same order?"
"The 'Transfigured' cannot be hidden from each other."
"Paul," she whispered, "I must speak with this man alone for a short
time. Remain here."
The princess arose, and in company with the newcomer paced slowly to
and fro along the terrace, repeatedly passing Paul.
This proceeding on the part of Barbara was somewhat strange, but not
altogether incomprehensible. Paul had learned that the word
"Transfigured" was used by the patriots of Czernova in the sense of
one who, from a state of despair as regards Poland, had passed to a
state of hope. Its English equivalent was "conspirator." The term
naturally associated itself with the Convent of the Transfiguration,
and hence Paul concluded that this masked individual was a monk sent
from that very mysterious monastery with some important message.
The conversation, of which he did not overhear one word, occupied
about fifteen minutes, and ended by the monk passing some papers to
the princess, who immediately concealed them upon her person, an
action performed so quickly that Paul almost doubted whether it had
really taken place.
This transference of documents accomplished, the monk glided quietly
away, and the princess returned to the side of Paul.
Ere he had time to question Barbara on the nature of the interview,
Paul saw with surprise a second masked friar making his way along the
terrace. He was robed so precisely like the other that Paul at first
thought it was the same individual; but a nearer view showed that he
was of shorter and more massive build. There could be no doubt that
he, too, was bent on having an interview with the princess.
Was this sort of thing to last all night?
Barbara guessed his thoughts, and her teeth gleamed in a pretty smile
beneath the silken fringe of her vizard.
"Patience, Paul," she whispered. "This is the second and last. There
in the distance comes Marshal Zabern, and as I must have no secrets
from you he shall act as my interpreter."
On the approach of the monk the same interchange of words took place,
evidently a pre-arranged signal, and, as before, Barbara arose and
joined in conversation with the new-comer.
A moment afterwards another figure came upon the scene whom, in spite
of the mask and black domino, Paul recognized as Zabern.
The marshal sat down by Paul's side and fixed his eyes upon the
princess, who, a little distance away, was stooping over the
balustrade of the terrace, apparently engaged in the act of writing.
"What think you that the princess is now doing?" asked Zabern.
"One might fancy her to be setting down the name of a cavalier upon
her dance-programme, but I suppose such is not the case?"
"Captain Woodville," returned the marshal impressively, "you are
witnessing an event destined to change the map of Europe in the near
future. The princess is signing a secret treaty with Louis Kossuth,
the uncrowned King of Hungary."
Paul's surprise and wonderment can be better imagined than described.
"The princess has signified to me her wish that you should be admitted
to the circle of 'The Transfigured;' and convinced as I am of your
loyalty to her, I offer no opposition, knowing that if you should not
altogether approve of our policy, you will at least keep our secret.
It is our custom to exact an oath from initiates--"
"I will vow upon the Four Evangelists--"
"Upon your sword if you must swear at all, as our Polish chevaliers of
old when at church they recited the 'Credo.' Our initiatory oath can
be dispensed with in your case. Your promise is sufficient. The word
of a soldier should be sacred. You pledge yourself to secrecy?"
And when Paul had assented, the marshal continued,--
"Know, then, that Princess Natalie is at the head of a secret
enterprise,--'conspiracy' would be the Czar's word,--an enterprise for
the liberation of Poland from the Russian yoke. The two monks are
agents in this affair. The first is a Pole bringing documents from the
headquarters of the patriots at Warsaw. The second is a Hungarian from
Buda charged with the secret treaty from Kossuth. The masquerade of
to-night was held with a special view to their meeting the princess,
no other way being so well suited to divert suspicion; for with spies
all around us it behoves us to act with caution. The traitor Bora, at
this moment in the ball-room, little knows what is happening only a
stone's-throw off."
"But what interest hath Hungary in this affair?"
"Hungary is herself preparing to revolt from the despotic rule of the
House of Hapsburg. Next spring she will rise under Louis Kossuth,
whose triumph is certain. Hungary will again take her place among the
free nations of Europe. We in Czernova sympathize with the Magyars,
but as matters are at present we dare not openly aid them with our
army. Austria would cry to the Czar, and the Czar, availing himself of
the opportunity, would lose no time in annexing Czernova. We are thus
necessitated to give our aid in secret. Money is the sinews of war; we
therefore lend the Hungarians money on the understanding that they in
turn shall aid us when the day of Poland comes."
"And how much are you advancing?"
"One hundred and eighty million roubles; not paper money, mark you,
but sterling gold in coinage and plate."
The vastness of the sum--thirty millions in English money--filled Paul
with amazement.
"How has Czernova contrived to raise such a large amount?"
"But small part of it comes from Czernova. It represents the free-will
offerings of Polish patriots throughout the world for a long course of
years. Noble ladies have given their jewellery, the peasant his kopek,
ay, often his last kopek, to the good cause."
"And where is this treasure stored?"
"In the Convent of the Transfiguration. Yes," continued Zabern, "we
aid Hungary, and Hungary will aid us when the great day of vengeance
shall come."
"And when will that be?"
"'Russia's danger is Poland's opportunity,'--that is the Czernovese
motto. We are waiting till Russia shall be engaged in war with
England."
"Is such war likely to occur?"
"It is a certain event of the near future. In the School of Naval
Engineers at Sebastopol," said Zabern, beginning a statement, whose
relevancy Paul failed at first to perceive, "is a complete
representation of all the forts that line the Bosphorus with their
towers and bastions, together with the most minute details respecting
the creeks and currents of that famous strait; so that the Russian War
Minister sitting at Sebastopol with these models before him could
direct the whole plan of an attack upon Constantinople."
"Well?"
"Imperative orders have just been issued from St. Petersburg
commanding the naval captains to study these models; lectures upon
them are given daily to the naval cadets. Bearing in mind Alexander's
saying to Napoleon, '_Il faut avoir les clefs de notre maison dans la
poche_,' what inference do you draw?"
"That Russia is preparing to seize the Sultan's dominions?"
"Precisely. Will England permit this?"
"Not while 'Old Pam' is living."
"'Old Pam'?" said Zabern, puzzled till Paul explained. "Ah! your grand
Lord Palmerston, the friend of oppressed nationalities! Well, then, we
shall soon have an Anglo-Russian war. Your gallant armies and fleets
will be seen ere long off the shores of the Baltic and Euxine. My
faith in the bravery of your countrymen enables me to prophesy that
they will be victorious. And then will come the day of our triumph!"
The patriotic Zabern, whose days from boyhood had been spent in
struggling for the freedom of his fatherland, was now fully convinced
that success was at hand.
"Yes," he continued, his eye kindling with enthusiasm; "yes, in the
hour of Russia's humiliation, when her treasury is exhausted and her
armies demoralized by defeat, there will be an upheaval of Poland; no
feeble flash-in-the-pan this time, but a grand national uprising,
north, south, east, and west. Little Czernova will be to the fore with
her army of twenty thousand under Zabern; the Magyars of Hungary will
pour across the border with Kossuth at their head; there will be a
combination such as will compel Russia to part with the kingdom she
wickedly stole fifty years ago. When I was born Poland was free; I
shall die seeing her free again. And the princess--"
"Yes, and the princess?" inquired Paul, as Zabern paused in his
utterance.
"Will be a princess no longer. The patriots have agreed that Natalie
Lilieska, as the sole surviving descendant of the ancient Jagellons,
shall be the queen of resuscitated Poland. Queen? ay, and why not
empress? Is she not worthy of an imperial crown?"
Paul's head fairly swam at these words. The sweet, fair, dark-haired
maiden who loved him, and who clung to him with such touching
fidelity, a future queen--empress! He knew that Barbara would never
waver in her attachment to him; to what dazzling heights, then, was he
destined to rise?
He glanced at the two gray moonlit figures in the distance--the monk
and the nun--conspiring for the creation of a kingdom. How
romantically impossible seemed this scheme looked at beforehand! and
yet how many of the noblest events in history have been previously
declared impossible by political prophets!
"As touching your secret treasure," remarked Paul, "is there not a
bill before the Diet,--a bill to seize all monastic wealth and to
convert it to state purposes?"
"At this very moment the Diet is putting its veto upon the measure.
To-night was fixed for the second reading. Our Polish adherents are
assembled in full force to reject it. After to-night we shall hear no
more of Lipski's bill. It would be an ill day for us if it should
pass. Ostensibly directed against Czernovese monasteries in general,
it is really aimed at the Convent of the Transfiguration. The
Czerno-Muscovites have a suspicion that the monks of that
establishment do other things besides offering perpetual prayers for
Poland, and the suspicion is well founded. If public commissioners
enter that monastery they will discover not only our store of gold,
but likewise the documents relating to our patriotic conspiracy; and
more than these, plans and models of Russian fortresses, supplied by
our adherents in the Czar's army, who are not a few. The convent
contains arms for one hundred thousand men, gunpowder sufficient to
blow up all Czernova, and in addition new military engines. Some of
the inmates of that convent devote their time to chemistry and
mechanics; and in the coming struggle betwixt Poland and Russia we
shall have the first use of inventions destined to revolutionize the
old-fashioned methods of warfare. In the light of these inventions the
numbers of our enemy will count for little. Now you understand why the
Convent of the Transfiguration must be kept from the eyes of prying
intruders."
"I likewise grasp the meaning of that passage in Orloff's cipher
despatch,--'The success of Lipski's bill is Russia's justification.'"
"I admit the truth of the statement. The secrets of that convent, if
brought to the light of day, would prove that the resources of
Czernova are being utilized for the emancipation of Poland. And have
we not the right to attempt the recovery of the kingdom stolen from
our forefathers? Nevertheless, in the opinion of European statesmen
fettered by conventional precedents, our aim would amply justify the
Czar in annexing the principality. Therefore Lipski's bill must not
pass."
At this juncture Barbara, having finished her interview, returned to
the side of Paul; Zabern, desirous of a word with the Hungarian envoy,
went forward to intercept his departure.
"So Zabern has told you of our enterprise? What think you, Paul?"
"May the crown of Poland indeed be yours, Barbara. And yet--and
yet--the higher you climb the greater the gulf between us."
"You shall rise with me, Paul," she said, placing her hand tenderly
within his. "You, who gained fame in India, shall gain a greater fame
in the coming war, and then there will be no obstacle to our union.
'Let the princess marry merit and not title,' men will say."
This gave a new aspect to their love-affair,--an aspect which
appealed to Paul's dashing and adventurous spirit; like the knights of
a bygone age he would fight both for the winning of fame and also for
the hand of a lovely princess. If the patriotic conspiracy should end
in failure, alas! for Barbara's hopes, but so much the better for his
prospect of a final union with her. His good fortune, he trusted,
would enable him to emerge safely from the political ruins of
Czernova, and with Barbara he would retire to his ancestral hall in
Kent, where they would spend the rest of their days in quiet
happiness, and recall with melancholy pleasure the time when they had
plotted and fought for the crown of Poland.
Zabern, having parted from the Hungarian messenger, sat down on the
other side of the princess, and for a long time the trio talked of the
conspiracy. Among other matters, Paul learned that Katina was cognizant
of the conspiracy, and that all the cabinet likewise were participants,
with the exception of the two permanent members--Cardinal Ravenna and
Mosco the Greek Archpastor.
"I can understand your Highness's motive in keeping our enterprise
concealed from a Muscovite prelate," remarked Zabern; "but with regard
to Ravenna is not the case different? He would be extremely useful to
us in drawing the Catholic clergy of Poland into the plot."
"Marshal," said Barbara firmly, "I know the cardinal, and I know that
he is not to be trusted."
Their attention was diverted at this point by the approach of two
masked figures, each habited, like Zabern, in a black domino.
"Radzivil and Dorislas returning from the Diet," observed the marshal.
The premier and his colleague recognized the princess and Zabern by
their costumes, but glanced inquiringly at Paul, uncertain as to his
identity.
"Captain Woodville, my lords," replied Barbara, responsive to their
thoughts.
Paul drew aside, permitting Radzivil to take a place beside Barbara, a
courtesy which the premier gracefully acknowledged.
Dorislas with folded arms leaned in silence against the marble
balustrade of the terrace. As far as can be judged of men who are
masked and cloaked, both the premier and the finance minister were in
a very gloomy mood. Paul intuitively felt that they were the bearers
of bad tidings.
"Has your Highness signed the treaty with Kossuth?" began Radzivil.
"An hour ago. The Hungarian envoy has departed with it."
"I fear, princess, that the treaty will have to be rescinded. We are
doomed to lose our treasure."
"Say not so, count. The Catholic Poles form the majority in the Diet;
why should they desert both their princess and their religion?"
"This evening, as your Highness knows," explained the premier, "there
took place the second reading of the Secular Appropriation Bill.
During the course of the debate Lipski presented to the House certain
statistics appraising the wealth contained in the various monasteries
of Czernova. These statistics were, of course, purely imaginary--"
"For," intervened Dorislas, "if he knew the whole truth concerning the
Convent of the Transfiguration he would have put the amount at four
times his actual estimate."
"Just so," responded Radzivil, a melancholy smile appearing beneath
his mask. "Well, he attempted to prove by means of these statistics
that the monastic wealth would enable Czernova to be tax-free for the
next three years. The House eagerly caught at the bait. All the
Muscovite faction voted with Lipski as a matter of course; and many of
our side, charmed with the idea of a three years' remission of
taxation, likewise cast their suffrages in favor of the bill. The
members of our party do not know the reason why the ministry are so
anxious to throw the ægis of their protection over the convents, and,
of course, we dare not take them into our confidence. The result is,
and with extreme regret I announce it to your Highness, that the
second reading of the Appropriation Bill has been carried by a
majority of eleven."
"Ha!" muttered Zabern to himself. "Orloff's gold is doing its work."
"Was there a full house?" asked Barbara.
"Your Highness, every member of the Opposition was present; and on our
side there were but three absentees,--the marshal, the cardinal, and
the duke."
"The duke?" said Barbara. "I fear that his vote will be given against
us now, which will raise the majority to twelve. The marshal's vote
and the cardinal's would reduce it to ten. When does the third reading
take place?"
"It has been fixed for this day week."
"Ten votes against us," murmured the princess. "The transference of
six votes from the opposite side would place us in a majority of two.
My lords, we must win over those six votes, if no more."
"I fail to see how it's to be done," commented Radzivil gloomily.
Silence fell upon the little group. Truly, with the Charter destroyed,
and with Lipski's bill on the eve of triumphing, Barbara's throne was
in desperate jeopardy.
"Cannot your Highness refuse to sign the bill?" asked Paul.
"By the terms of the Charter," replied Barbara, "the ruler of Czernova
is compelled to sign every bill passed by the Diet. In the event of
refusal the Diet has the right of calling upon Russia, Austria, and
Prussia, to enforce the signature."
"And Lipski and his Muscovite crew would not be slow in appealing to
them," remarked Dorislas. "And we know what the intervention of the
three Powers would mean."
"If I should dissolve the Diet, and order a fresh election--?" began
Barbara.
"We should have the same majority against us," replied Radzivil.
"Insert a clause in the bill," suggested Paul, "to the effect that the
Convent of the Transfiguration shall be exempted from the operation of
the bill."
"Useless," answered the premier, "since that convent is the one
particularly aimed at."
"A clause giving her Highness sole power to appoint the
Commissioners."
Dorislas grinned.
"I moved that amendment myself, but it was rejected."
"Play Cromwell's game: on the day of the voting station troopers at
the doors of the Diet-house to exclude obnoxious members; or the night
before carry some off and detain them till the voting is over."
"Unconstitutional," said Barbara. "To secure the rejection of the bill
by such methods would be to court the intervention of the three
Powers."
"Secretly withdraw the documents and the treasure from the convent."
"With soldiers patrolling the precincts?" said Dorislas. "Lipski,
subtle knave that he is, has artfully turned our own bayonets against
us. Every one passing out of the convent is carefully searched."
"Bribe the soldiers."
"Lipski is alive to that manoeuvre. Day and night his creatures are
watching that monastery."
"Let the monks, then, bury the arms and the treasure within their own
walls."
"Lipski, who is certain to be appointed one of the Commissioners,
will dig up every foot of ground and pull down every brick in his
endeavors to discover something of disadvantage to the ministry,"
returned Dorislas.
Paul made no more suggestions; how, indeed, could he, when it passed
the wit of the premier himself to devise a plan adequate for defeating
the manoeuvres of Lipski?
"If the bill should pass," continued Dorislas, "I see but one way out
of our difficulty. The monks must contrive to steal out some dark
night, leaving a slow match burning in the powder-magazine."
"And we must lose the fruit of years?" said the princess, mournfully.
"Why, your Highness, consider what would happen otherwise. Here, close
to the Russian frontier, and commanding the highroad to Warsaw, is an
edifice, presumably a monastery, but in reality a fortress and an
arsenal. True, Abbot Faustus can destroy the treasonable documents;
yet, nevertheless, here will be found, because impossible to be
annihilated or concealed, a vast store of gold, rifles for one hundred
thousand men, and other war _matériel_. Vain would it be for the
Czernovese ministry to put an innocent interpretation upon their
attempts to keep the interior workings of this convent from public
view. The Czar would be wanting in common sense if he should not see
in all this a menace to his own dominions. His ministers, in fact,
already have their suspicions, and hence they are more eager than
Lipski himself for the passing of the Appropriation Bill."
"I note that the marshal has not yet spoken," smiled Barbara; "sure
proof that he is developing some plan. Now, Zabern, your enemies call
you 'the Asp of Czernova'; you must maintain your character for
serpentine wisdom by extricating us from our dilemma."
"Fear not, your Highness. Lipski shall not triumph. On the third
reading I, without resorting to bribery, threats, or violence, will
persuade the Diet to reject his bill."
"How?" asked Radzivil, who, desirous as he was of seeing the measure
defeated, yet nevertheless felt aggrieved that Zabern should propose
to do what he himself, the premier, despaired of doing; "how? what is
your plan?"
"To reveal it beforehand would ensure its defeat. My plan is one which
requires absolute concealment."
"Even from the princess?" said Barbara.
"From the princess most of all," replied Zabern with a peculiar smile.
This statement was naturally productive of great surprise on the part
of Barbara.
"We will accept your saying, marshal, though a hard one, and put a
check upon our curiosity. You have never yet failed to keep word with
me--"
"And shall not fail now, your Highness."
"Then," said Barbara, rising, as there came floating on the air from
the ball-room the slow, dreamy music of a Hungarian waltz, "then if
Zabern be on the watch, the princess may dance. Captain Woodville,
your arm. You were promised a dance. Let me redeem my word. But first,
marshal, guard these papers for me. It would be dangerous to let them
fall upon the ball-room floor."
And Barbara, having handed to Zabern the documents which she had
received from the Polish envoy, moved off towards the ball-room
leaning upon the arm of Paul.
This bestowal of favor upon her secretary caused Radzivil and Dorislas
to stare suspiciously at each other; but ere they could interchange
thought on the matter, their attention was diverted by the sound of
many voices coming from the direction contrary to that taken by the
princess.
Looking up, the three ministers beheld moving along the terrace
towards them a company of masqueraders, ladies and gentlemen,
fancifully costumed. All were laughing and talking gayly, being
evidently in the best of spirits.
"Whom have we here?" muttered Radzivil, eying the throng.
"He who would supplant the princess in the sovereignty," replied
Zabern, recognizing the central figure, who was garbed as Peter the
Great. "A barbarian aping a barbarian."
"The Duke of Bora?"
"The same, surrounded by his favorites and satellites, all jubilant
with the thought that Lipski's bill will triumph, and that the fall of
the princess is at hand. Let them laugh. Their gayety will turn to
mortification after next week's vote shall have been taken. Let us
uncover and tempt the traitor to address us. I am curious to learn
what he will say."
As the duke and his friends drew near the trio unmasked. Bora,
catching sight of them, stopped in his walk, and then came slowly
forward attended by his followers, all intent on enjoying the
presumable mortification of the ministers.
"A sad blow this, dear marshal, to the feelings of the princess,"
began the duke blandly, and lighting a cigar as he spoke. "It's quite
certain that the Appropriation Bill will pass."
"Pass? Oh! dear no. Nothing of the sort," replied Zabern in his most
cheerful manner.
"We have just been informed that the second reading has been carried
by a majority of 'eleven.'"
"The third reading has yet to come."
"Now, Saint Nicholas give you wisdom!" cried Bora, amid the scarcely
repressed laughter of his creatures. "Are you clinging to the hope
that the men who voted one thing to-night will vote the contrary seven
days hence?"
"I _know_ that they will," returned Zabern, coolly.
"There is certain to be a full House next week--one hundred and twenty
members, should Ravenna have returned from Rome in time to take part
in the division. Out of that number I venture to prophesy that seventy
will be found to reject the bill."
"Giving the ministry a majority of twenty?"
"Giving the ministry a majority of twenty," repeated Zabern.
Bora could only attribute this utterance to mere bravado.
"Marshal, I should like to know with what amount you will back your
opinion," he sneered.
"With whatever sum your grace is prepared to back yours."
"I will stake five thousand roubles--" began the duke.
"Oh! your grace, make it more than that," said Zabern affably.
"I will double the amount. I will wager ten thousand roubles that the
votes given against the bill will fall short of seventy."
"Let me have that wager in your handwriting, dear duke," said Zabern
blandly. "The like sum from me if ministers have not seventy votes on
their side, or a clear majority of twenty."
When the written pledges had been interchanged Radzivil spoke,
addressing the duke in somewhat indignant tones.
"And do you bet, then, on the success of a measure known to be hateful
to the princess?"
Bora shrugged his shoulders.
"This is a bill on which the best of friends may differ, as is shown
by the schism among your own Polish adherents. Remember," he added,
"there must be no underhand work to secure the passing of this bill,
or my wager becomes null and void. There must be no bribery on the
part of the ministry."
"We leave bribery to Lipski and his principal, Orloff; or shall I put
the word in the plural, your grace, and say principals," said Zabern
with a meaning smile.
Bora gave a slight start, which did not escape the other's notice.
"You see, dear duke," drawled Zabern airily, "we know all that is
going on behind the scenes. Governor Orloff in his palace at Warsaw
pulls the strings, and the puppets dance in the Diet of Slavowitz.
Next week I shall manipulate the strings, and you shall see the
figures dancing to my tune."
The duke began to grow somewhat uneasy under the knowledge displayed
by Zabern. In his previous contests with the wily Pole he had always
come off second-best. Was Zabern again to triumph over him?
"You talk boldly, marshal," he said with a supercilious smile, "but I
think I shall win my roubles."
So saying he passed on with his company.
"Humph!" muttered Radzivil, gloomily, "it's quite clear that, vexed
with the princess for excluding him from the cabinet, he will now
throw in his lot with the Opposition."
"Therein appearing in his true colors," replied Zabern. "There he
walks, a would-be sovereign, attended by a would-be court. _Carpe
diem, Bora, carpe diem!_ Enjoy your brief span of existence! The 15th
of September next will see your end."
"The 15th of September?" repeated Dorislas. "That is the day of the
princess's coronation."
"True; and if I rightly forecast the future, Dorislas, the duke will
not outlive that day."