She slept well, and late; then being already long past her early hour
of rising, lay for a time, half in pleasure of that narrow world
wherein she still could confuse dreams and life, half in dread of
the realities into which she must step with her clothes. Should she
go to Budapest that day? It occurred to her too late that it is more
difficult to return to the associations identified with the intense
or tragic moments of life even than to remain among them. Should she
stay in Vienna for a few days? The Hofburg had never seemed so dreary;
her own rooms were musty and chill. In Buda, at least, she would be
companioned, and she should find novel work to do immediately upon her
return. She remembered Fessenden’s early suggestion to conciliate the
Independents by inviting their wives to the palace. Many of these men
were her slaves, but of them several would not come to Buda, and others
held wholly aloof. She should persuade to her cause, as soon as she
returned, the patriotism of the influential women of the aristocracy.
And there were charities to organize, subtler methods of conquest to
be conceived, now that society had been won by gayeties and pleasure.
As soon as the winter broke she would make her progress through the
country; she had made the impression she desired on the crowds that
had met her at the stations in Transylvania. It was all easy enough,
this brilliant preliminary, but what of the future? Would she have her
great public career, and would it console her for the renunciation of
what she wanted at that moment more than the career of a Maria Theresia
or even the triumph of cold duty? As she awoke fully the tenderness
and passion, roused and stimulated, yet so little satisfied in these
past weeks, which for two days and nights had been quiescent under the
sullen despair of her brain, now, after long hours of refreshing sleep,
rushed in tumult through all her channels of emotion; and all her soul
and body shook with longing and regret. Why should she not see him once
more? And would it always be once more, and once more? Would her life
be bearable if his expulsion from it were final? She had not seen so
far into the future while with him, but now it looked as empty and cold
as space. _Could this be the end?_ She almost cried the words aloud
as she sprang from her bed in a frantic desire to take some step--at
once--before it was too late. He could not have sailed, for he had told
her he should spend some days in Berlin, and his yacht was at Trieste.
She should see him again if the world stood still. In all the emotions
that had rent her, even after the terrible deaths of her brother and
mother, she had never so faced the awful vista of finality; and she
discovered that it was the one for which she had no power in her to
endure. Of course he must leave her at last, but not yet! It is all
very well for the old and the wise to argue with the accents of fatigue
that love is not the only thing in life; so it is not, for those that
argue.
She rang. Her women came in and dressed her in a travelling costume.
She sent a note to the Princess Sarolta, asking her to be ready an
hour hence, and another to her father expressing a wish to bid him
_Aufwiedersehen_. The Emperor replied that he would call upon her as
soon as she had finished her coffee, and that it was with regret he was
obliged to inform her that her Obersthofmeisterin had caught a severe
cold the night before and was unable to leave her bed. He had sent a
messenger to Maria Leopoldina, who was at Baden, asking her to resume
for the moment her old duties; and doubtless she would arrive in the
course of the day.
It was a long message, and the Emperor had taken the trouble to write
it, when a simple announcement by a chamberlain that he would call upon
her immediately would have sufficed. Ranata left her breakfast-room
abruptly, and stood alone in her dressing-room removing her hat with
shaking fingers. For what was he preparing her? What pathway smoothing
for himself? Had Piroska tattled? Was she to receive the paternal
fiat that she must never see Fessenden Abbott again? Her father might
require her submission before permitting her to return to Hungary. Had
the world come to an end? She felt as if the floor were swaying and
sinking.
She heard the Emperor’s voice in the salon, and controlled herself
and went in to meet him. Her eyes met his squarely in the manner he
detested. He kissed her, however, and congratulated her upon her
improved appearance. She had rarely looked better than in this frock of
green cloth and steel and sable, so simple and closely fitting that on
her slim yet heroic figure it gave her a somewhat warlike appearance.
The Emperor himself was looking remarkably well, in his parade uniform
with its sky-blue coat and black and scarlet trousers. He had been in
the saddle for two hours inspecting his troops, and the fresh color was
in his cheeks, his well-exercised body was almost as free and elastic
as his daughter’s. He sat erect and alert like the good soldier he was;
but with the wariness of the diplomat he had taken the precaution to
seek this interview on the enemy’s territory that he might retreat if a
sudden lapse in the negotiations seemed wise; he knew that he would be
physically unable to expel Ranata from his apartments until she chose
to go.
He began with diplomacy, also, asking her of the pilgrimage of the
night before; complimented her on her courage and piety--and no man
could turn a compliment more neatly. But as Ranata answered him in
monosyllables and preserved an upright attitude of expectancy, he felt
himself driven towards the point.
“My dear,” he began delicately, “it has come to my knowledge that you
are more interested than is prudent in the brother of your friend.”
He paused, but as Ranata made no reply, nor even changed color, he
continued. “Of course it is to be expected that a girl as beautiful as
you are will captivate many men, aloof as you must hold yourself; but
I am surprised that you have permitted a devotion so conspicuous as to
create gossip. A princess can never be sure that gossip will stop short
of scandal; for where a woman may not select her own husband, the idle
and the envious are always on the lookout for an irregular connection
to gloat over. I am very sorry to seem to reprove you--”
“I have expected it, of course. I knew that the little Zápolya was a
spy; and she also wished to marry Mr. Abbott.”
“I hope you will give me the credit of having lived long enough to sift
evidence before I decide, of making due allowance for circumstances,
and of accepting no evidence unsupported. You and Mr. Abbott have been
much in public together; your mutual interest has been commented upon
far and wide. I have been warned from more sources than one. If I had
known that Count Zrinyi had invited Mr. Abbott--and scarcely any one
else!--to accompany you to Transylvania, I should have forbidden the
visit. It had long been a part of your programme, and I inferred, as a
matter of course, that you would be accompanied by a full court and a
large number of guests. There is no doubt in my mind that Zrinyi made
this opportunity for you, and he must take the consequences--”
“I doubt if he gave my private affairs a thought. He may have cared to
entertain me as a princess, but his first object was to see as much of
Alexandra alone as possible--in romantic surroundings.”
“That may be. Now I must ask you if you are prepared to deny that
you took a walk at midnight up there alone with Mr. Abbott; that you
managed upon numberless occasions to see him alone--at Buda, as well as
at Zrinyi-vár? That he wore Prince Nadasdy’s costume on the night of
the fancy-dress ball, and that you both retired simultaneously--”
“I deny nothing,” said Ranata. “I am in no humor to make a sentimental
confession. Your Majesty may believe or not that I love him. I have,
however, sent him away. That should satisfy you. You will accept my
word, I suppose.”
“Your word is the last I should doubt. But I happen to know that human
nature is stronger than promises. You will not send for him, but he
will return. He is a young man with an exceptional record for attaining
his ends. If he manages to see you alone again after a separation”--he
spread out his little hands with the grace of his Spanish ancestors--“I
should not answer for the consequences. If you were your mother I
should have no apprehension, for she was devoid of passion; but you
are a Hapsburg, and God knows I have had knowledge enough of the
weakness of my race to act promptly when I am graciously vouchsafed a
timely warning.”
“What are you going to do about it?” asked Ranata--unconsciously,
in her quick suspicion, using the American vernacular, although her
language was German; her father had never found it necessary to learn
English.
This time the Emperor met her eye fully, although his heart quaked. “I
have determined that it is time for you to marry,” he said in a louder
tone than he was sensible of in time.
Ranata laughed. She was surprised at her rudeness. The disrespectful
ebullition was due partly to nervousness; but the Emperor’s brave
announcement had also struck at the quick of her humor.
His Majesty’s ruddy face deepened in hue, but he had too difficult
a task to accomplish to permit himself the luxury of a personal
sensation. He had steeled his heart against pity; to give himself up
to anger was unworthy, and he brushed the emotion aside. He would have
been glad to see his daughter happy, but the stoicism of lonely majesty
had been immutably set in his case by the many and agonizing personal
experiences which he had weathered into a healthy and tolerable old
age. Princes were born to earthly martyrdom tempered by much casual
consolation. If their women were forced to play their part without the
compensations, that was the decree of God, who made kings, and they
must suffer and make no complaint. As a rule they did, and it was the
manifest duty of him who was divinely permitted to govern to see that
they found no opportunity to do otherwise. “You are overwrought, I
fear,” he said tactfully. “Did you sleep well after your pilgrimage?”
“Perfectly. May I ask whom your Majesty has considered as a son-in-law?”
The Emperor made a slight motion that in a person of less graceful
dignity might have been mistaken for a squirm. He had no doubt of the
wisdom of his choice--his own choice he believed it to be--for his
relative, if stern and unbending, a disciplinarian of the first rank,
was neither brutal nor cruel, nor, if met with a discreet submission,
unamiable. The idea of handing over his potential daughter to this
Gibraltar among husbands, who had responded with enthusiasm to the
invitation to marry a beautiful and wealthy princess, had taken full
possession of the apprehensive mind of the old monarch; but he had not
planned to break the name until after the right amount of preparation.
He had anticipated that Ranata would dissolve into tears and perhaps
more tempestuous emotions, under cover of which he could retreat, to
communicate in writing the fulness of her fate. But there was no sign
of a tear in the large angry eyes transfixing him, and her full fine
mouth, with its short upper lip and unsatisfied corners, looked as if a
sob had never shaken it.
“Well?” she asked.
There was nothing for it but to plump out the name. Even were he
willing to gain time by asserting that the man had not yet been chosen,
he knew that she would detect the lie and place him at an immediate
disadvantage. He answered stolidly,
“Aloys Franz--”
“What?” she stood up and stared down upon him as if she were repeating
his statement to herself and endeavoring to place it in connection with
her brain. In a moment the blood rose hotly to her hair, even her eyes
looked bloodshot. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Oh!” and then she walked to the
window.
It was an opportune moment for retreat, but there was more to be said;
she was calm, and the sooner the whole task was finished the better.
“Perhaps you will understand why I think it best you should not return
to Budapest,” he said gently. “It is well for many reasons that this
wedding take place at once, and it is my duty to expose you to no
further temptation. It can be given out that your trousseau detains you
here, or Sarolta’s illness--”
Ranata wheeled about and faced him. For the first time in her life she
was ugly.
“And have you really deluded yourself,” she asked with an ominous calm,
“that you will marry me to that man?--or to any one else?”
The Emperor rose then and faced her. War was declared, and he knew
where he stood. There was no better mettle in Europe than his.
“You will marry Aloys Franz,” he said.
Again Ranata laughed, and for the moment she looked hideous. “I shall
not,” she said. “And you should know by this time what stuff I am made
of.”
“I have not had a doubt of your resistance. I have as little of my
firmness of purpose. You have not been sufficiently disciplined. A
princess marries whom and when her father and sovereign dictates. You
were my youngest, in many ways exceptional, and very much alone. I have
been more indulgent, more lax, than I should. But that is over. From
this moment you will recognize that I am your emperor as well as your
father.”
“We are no longer in the Middle Ages, nor yet in the middle of the last
century. Your subjects are free to marry whom they please, or to remain
unmarried if they choose.”
“Constitutions have shorn monarchs of too much power over their
subjects, but in his own family the power of an emperor is as absolute
as it ever was. To the law you would have no appeal did I choose to
practise upon you the tortures of the Inquisition here in my palace,
to starve you in a cell, to cause you to disappear forever from human
sight. Please understand once for all that you are my property, given
into my care by Almighty God; and for your own salvation and for the
honor of my house I shall do what I think best with you.”
“And if I still refuse?”
“You will remain a prisoner in these rooms until you consent. Your
servants will attend to every want, you will have the society of Maria
Leopoldina, and you may take your exercise in the corridor. You will
see no one else. There will be a guard day and night at each end of
the corridor. If you make any attempt to bribe these guards, or to
communicate with any one in the court-yard, you will be moved elsewhere
and deprived of exercise. But I do not wish to be forced into undue
severity, and you may remain here so long as you transgress no rules.”
“Good God!” she exclaimed. “And this is the twentieth century! Have I
heard aright? Am I a prisoner under an armed guard? Am I more helpless
in the eyes of the law than the meanest of your subjects? May any
illiterate peasant woman seek redress in the courts of justice while
a princess of the realm, whose supreme advantages have set her apart
from mankind, is but a chattel among the possessions of her father? I
suppose I have known this. But I have managed to surround myself with a
different atmosphere. But you--you are a man of the world, and all your
faculties are still alert--do you mean to tell me that you have not
outgrown the barbarism of the past?”
“You may call it by what name you will. I shall go now, and you will
meditate--”
But Ranata had flashed between him and the door, and he knew that he
could not pass her. He was deeply annoyed that he had not retreated in
time, but he stood immobile, looking coldly into her distorted face.
“No,” she said hoarsely, but still retaining an appreciable measure of
self-control; “you will not leave this room until you have heard the
truth for once. If you are no longer my father but my tyrant, then from
this moment I am your most rebellious subject and nothing more. And
I would that I could open my veins and drain out every drop of royal
blood. Has it ever occurred to you, sir, that the great enlightened
masses not only in America but here in central Europe regard us
not with the hatred of half a century ago, but with impatience and
contempt; that they look upon us as anomalies, anachronisms, ornamental
nuisances, and do not rise to let out our blood on the guillotine
only because they are well aware of the peaceful disintegration,
the irresistible rising of the tide of independence and liberty?
If your people love you--here, not in Hungary!--it is for your
personal qualities, not because you represent an idea which, in their
estimate of life and civilization, they have relegated to the past,
with crinolines and Bath chairs. Do you suppose that what loyalty
you enjoy will be transferred to the Heir? You know it will not.
That alone is proof enough that the people are carelessly--perhaps
unconsciously--determined to have what they want--monarchy, only if
it happen to suit them at the moment. There is only one monarchy on
the face of the earth enlightened enough to grasp this fact before
it is too late, and that is England. There alone is monarchy not
ridiculous--and not threatened. What do you suppose is the meaning of
the immense and undaunted increase of socialism in Germany? What is the
meaning of the incalculable and persistent forces of disintegration
in this empire? Look at Italy. At Spain. At Turkey. At Russia--that
dares not sleep. Only the insignificant little monarchies are
comparatively safe from themselves, being occupied with apprehension
of the greater. Even in the United States the unsatisfied tide of
liberty is rising. McKinley was not shot by a lunatic, a fanatic, nor
by a member of any deadly organization; the assassin was merely one
of the millions of dissatisfied poor in the richest country on earth,
where he saw liberty and justice becoming as paralytic as in Europe.
Did the portent of that assassination never occur to you? And with
this spirit abroad in the world we dare over here to play at divine
rights, at being hereditary rulers of millions more enlightened than
ourselves--we--pygmies--marionettes--who may be born as foolish as
the last Emperor of Austria and King of Hungary, who thought that all
eagles had two heads, and yet dare to mount a throne and cry ‘I am
King!’ No one has ever more devoutly tried to do what he conceived to
be his inherited duty than I have done. I have, for many years, been
deliberately blind. During these last months in Hungary I have _held_
the scales to my eyes lest they fall off. Last night down there in
the crypt, where, if you must know, I went in the hope of finding my
old idols, I lost most of those scales. To-day I have lost the last
of them. If I had it in my power to do, I would give liberty and the
broadest sort of constitutional government to every man that breathes.
I am mortified that it took the deprivation of my own liberty to force
my brain to acknowledge the truth. I would rather I had been less human
and welcomed the truth as the result of much deep and intelligent
meditation. But to expect the godlike of one of us of royal blood is
beyond reason, and I am thankful that I am not too dense to receive
illumination from any source. But I loathe my blood. I hope to God I
may live to see every monarch now alive a useful member of a republic
and no man degraded by being forced to submit to what he had no hand
in making. I am sorry to have detained and agitated you; and for any
unintentional rudeness I hope your Majesty will forgive me. For you,
until to-day, I have had a great respect. For what you stand for it is
impossible that I should ever again have anything but the profoundest
contempt. I will not detain you any longer except to repeat that you
will save yourself a great deal of trouble if you give up at once this
idea of marrying me to any man but the one I shall select for myself.”
She no longer looked hideous. The relief of her emotions, the tide of
passion which had surged over its dam laden with the profoundest truth
of the century, had carried her to the heights of her nature, and she
had never been more beautiful--nor more formidable. Not so the Emperor.
He was purple, and his heavy underlip trembled. But he preserved his
dignity, his soldierly bearing. As she moved aside to let him pass, he
bowed courteously to her without speaking and left the room.