THE CARES OF A CHANCELLOR
THE Count von Sigismark stared at his private secretary, and his
private secretary stared back respectfully at the Count von Sigismark.
“Where did you hear that?” demanded the Count.
“From Von Hardenburg. He was telling it to everybody as Von Stahlen’s
latest.”
“An impertinent fool! And he said--?”
“That the Lady Gertrude--”
“I’ll wager it was something more insolent than that! Yes, had been--”
“Had been cut out by the ‘Poacher’s Child.’”
“It is disgraceful. The fellow ought to be turned out of the palace.”
And he drummed his fingers impatiently on the table before him.
The Chancellor had passed a very uneasy time since his parting with
the King the previous day. He had hardly had time to cool down after
his interview with the revolutionist when he received a report from
the Minister of the Interior, representing the state of things in
Mannhausen in an alarming light, and soliciting authority for the
adoption of special measures of repression. His reply had been to
wire to his colleague to come to Neustadt, and he was now impatiently
expecting his arrival.
Herr Moritz, the Minister referred to, was a comparatively young
man, a _protégé_ of his own, on whose devotion to himself he placed
the greatest reliance, while he felt that his plebeian origin was a
guarantee against his ever becoming a dangerous rival for power. The
entrance of the young Minister at this moment brought an expression of
relief to his patron’s countenance. The Chancellor quickly sent away
his secretary, and drawing a chair close beside that on which he had
made his colleague sit down, he poured into his ear a full account of
the events of the past two days.
Thoroughly acquainted with the Chancellor’s character and views, it did
not take Herr Moritz long to grasp how things stood in the Castle. The
Count was still expatiating on the evil influence over the King wielded
by Johann when a summons arrived for the Chancellor to wait upon his
Majesty.
“Come with me, Moritz,” said the Count, “and see if you cannot do
something to open the young fool’s eyes.”
He drew the younger Minister along with him, and they proceeded to the
royal cabinet together.
On the way they encountered the man whose irreverent tongue had so
greatly provoked the old Count. Von Sigismark glared at him fiercely,
when, to his surprise, Von Stahlen put on an air of the greatest
sympathy, and respectfully accosted him.
“My dear Chancellor, has it come to this. I am inexpressibly grieved.”
“Why, what do you mean, sir?” cried the bewildered Von Sigismark.
“I hope I am not taking a liberty, but I inferred that you and the Herr
Moritz were on your way to tender the resignations of the Ministry to
his Majesty.”
The Chancellor received this ill-timed jest with a furious look, and
turned away. But Moritz, who was not disposed to submit to such remarks
without making any retort, stopped long enough to say--
“At all events, my lord, I am glad to think there will be no vacancy in
the office of Court fool.”
Von Stahlen bit his lip. His comrade, the Baron, glanced at him
apprehensively. He felt that his reputation was at stake, and trembled.
Then, before the Minister could get out of reach, he responded--
“Thanks, Herr. You shall have my good word with the new Premier, Herr
Mark. But no doubt you and he have met already.”
Herr Moritz took this as an insulting allusion to his humble
extraction, and flushed angrily. But there was no time for further
recrimination, unless he wished to be left behind. So he hurried off
after the Chancellor, leaving Von Stahlen to enjoy the felicitations of
his faithful admirer.
Von Sigismark sent in the name of his colleague, and the two were at
once admitted to the King’s presence.
After leaving Dorothea on the day before, Maximilian had returned to
the palace in a more cheerful frame of mind.
Meeting his young cousin in the grounds of the Castle, he had stopped
to have a chat with him. Ernest was engaged in teaching one of his dogs
the not very difficult trick of standing on its hind legs and answering
a species of catechism. As soon as he saw Maximilian, however, he
forgot the dog and ran forward to welcome him.
“Cousin Max! Where have you been? I have not seen you all day.”
“Where have you been?” retorted Maximilian, taking the boy’s head in
his hands, and playfully wrestling with him.
Ernest pretended to be angry.
“Leave me alone, will you? I wouldn’t go out riding to-day, for fear my
mother would make me take Gertrude von Sigismark with me again. I hate
women, don’t you?”
“Certainly. Every well-regulated mind hates women,” responded
Maximilian, gravely. “But why should your mother want you to take the
Lady Gertrude with you?”
“I don’t know. That’s what I was going to ask you. It isn’t as if she
were a clever woman or knew anything. Fancy, she asked me if Wolf had
ever caught a fox?”
And he pointed to the dog he had been playing with--a handsome
Pomeranian.
The King laughed.
“Perhaps your mother wants you to learn manners, you young cub.”
“Oh, bother manners! What is the use of being a prince if I can’t do
what I like? And I do wish she wouldn’t talk--” He stopped suddenly,
recollecting his mother’s warning, and blushed red.
Maximilian disdained to take advantage of the boy’s simplicity by
questioning him.
“Well, what were you doing with Wolf before I came?” he said. “Show me.”
Ernest called the dog to him, only too pleased to show him off.
“Now, Wolf, attention!”
The dog raised himself on his hind legs, and made a ludicrous attempt
to remain perfectly motionless while preserving his balance.
“Present arms to the Chancellor!”
A growl was the response.
“Present arms to the King!”
The dog remained quiet.
“Present arms to the Kaiser!”
A short bark from Wolf.
“Now present arms to Cousin Max!”
The dog lifted his forepaws high in the air, and instantly found
himself on all fours, when he began leaping and capering round his
young master.
“There! What do you think of that?” exclaimed the delighted lad.
His cousin smiled, half mournfully.
“Very clever indeed, Ernest; but, mark my words, Wolf will be poisoned
one of these days.”
And with this enigmatic remark he turned and resumed his way to the
Castle.
The rest of the day he spent either alone or in the society of Bernal,
who found his royal friend’s conversation a trifle tedious, perpetually
recurring, as it did, to the subject of Dorothea.
In the morning, however, Maximilian’s conscience reminded him of his
pledges to Johann, and after a previous talk with the revolutionist he
sent for Von Sigismark to see what he could do with him in a private
interview.
“Mind, be firm with him!” were the Chancellor’s last words to Moritz,
as he preceded his colleague into the royal cabinet, where the King
gave them a gracious welcome.
“You will remember, Count,” said Maximilian as soon as they were
seated, “that we adjourned our discussion yesterday. I thought that
if you and I met by ourselves we should be more likely to come to an
understanding. However, I am very pleased that Herr Moritz should be
present, as I wish all my Ministers to know of my intentions.”
The two Ministers exchanged glances.
“I hope, Sire,” the Chancellor ventured to remark, “that your Majesty
has had time to consider the difficulties which lie in the way of any
revolutionary changes, such as were referred to by the person who was
here yesterday.”
“Difficulties! Everything is difficult to those who are not in earnest
about it. But is the present state of things free from difficulties
either? You know I have taken no part in the government. I was to blame
for it. I have left matters entirely in your hands and those of my
other Ministers, and now what do I hear? My capital is on the very eve
of a revolt, and you have never warned me of it.”
“It was precisely in order to warn your Majesty, and to get your
sanction for the necessary preventive measures, that Herr Moritz came
here to-day,” returned Von Sigismark. “Let his Majesty know the truth,”
he added, turning to the other.
“There is nothing to be really alarmed at, in my opinion,” said the
Minister for the Interior; “but undoubtedly there is need for caution
and firmness. Ever since the relaxation of the police laws, which
followed your Majesty’s accession, there has been, I regret to say, a
steady growth in the strength of the revolutionary societies. Of course
these societies are to be found in all the capitals of Europe, but for
some reason they have lately been particularly active in Mannhausen.
The actual number enrolled is about two thousand.”
“Three thousand,” threw in Maximilian.
The Minister looked surprised and annoyed.
“Possibly your Majesty has better sources of information than I have,”
he began.
“I have.”
The King’s tone was severe.
“I beg your pardon, Sire. I will tell the police that they have
under-estimated the numbers of the enrolled. But, as I was about to
say, the danger lies not so much in the number of actual members of
these societies, as in the very widespread sympathy with them and their
aims which prevails among the poorer classes. If the Socialists were to
make any open demonstration against the government, there is reason to
fear that they would receive the active support of great numbers who
are now passively looking on. It is, therefore, absolutely necessary,
in my opinion, that we should not wait for the conspirators to take the
first step, but that we should at once take precautionary measures.”
“And that is the state of things in which I find my kingdom after only
ten years’ reign!” exclaimed the King. “It seems to me that it is
rather late in the day to speak of preventive measures now. Every good
law passed, every evil institution swept away, is a preventive measure
against such conspiracies as you describe, and such measures ought to
have been taken long ago.”
The Ministers hung their heads. The old Count answered--
“I am sorry to hear that you are dissatisfied with the results of our
efforts to serve you, Sire. I can only express a hope that you will
not judge us entirely by one incident like this. Possibly your Majesty
might never have been disturbed by the news of these troubles but for
the arrival of this Herr Mark.”
The King turned on him sharply.
“Possibly not, as you say, Count; but when I find myself confronted in
my own palace by a man with a loaded pistol pointed at my head, I think
you will admit that I have some reason to inquire into the state of
things which has brought him there.”
The Chancellor was silenced. His colleague tried to come to his
assistance.
“Perhaps I could give you some information about Herr Mark, Sire. I
have heard of him before.”
“Sir,” retorted Maximilian, “he came here, as he told me plainly
enough, to assassinate me. I dare say you may have heard of similar
events in his past career, but have you heard of anything worse than
that?”
“Heaven forbid, Sire!”
“Then it seems to me that it is useless to discuss Herr Mark’s
antecedents.”
There was an awkward pause. Both the Ministers felt that they
were getting the worst of it. The King was the first to renew the
conversation.
“But now let us understand each other. You admit that the present state
of affairs cannot continue, that something must be done. Pray what do
you propose?”
“My suggestion, Sire,” said Herr Moritz, taking it on himself to reply,
“is that, in the first place, we should paralyse the movement by at
once arresting the ringleaders.”
“Including, I presume, the one who is at present residing in the
Castle?” broke in the King, sarcastically.
“I look upon him as the most dangerous man in Franconia,” returned the
Minister, firmly; “but, of course, it is for your Majesty to decide how
he shall be dealt with.”
“And your other proposals?”
“That a law should be passed rendering it penal to belong to any
political association the objects of which are not reconcilable with
loyalty to the throne. If that did not prove sufficient I should ask
your Majesty for permission to declare Mannhausen in a state of siege,
and try any revolters by martial law.”
“I see. And am I to take it, Count, that you endorse Herr Moritz’s
recommendations?”
“Most decidedly so, Sire. In my humble opinion nothing else can save us
from a dangerous rebellion.”
“Very good. Now listen. I positively forbid the arrest of any of the
ringleaders, as you term them, of this agitation. If they proceed
to open breaches of the law, of course you are at liberty to bring
them before the ordinary tribunals. But I will consent to no new
legislation, nor to the adoption of the other repressive measures
which have been mentioned. The only true remedy for the discontent
which exists is to take away the grievances from which the people
are suffering, and bring the government into touch with the popular
will. Those are the lines on which I intend to proceed. At our last
interview,” he turned to the Chancellor, who sat listening in hardly
veiled consternation, “a policy was suggested to which you objected.
Now I require you to submit to me a programme of your own, embodying
measures for the removal of distress, and meeting the principal demands
of the people.”
The Chancellor sat helpless, unable to make any reply to this speech,
in which he recognised a tone of authority wholly new in his experience
of the young monarch. It was again left to the younger Minister to
answer for both.
“Your Majesty’s commands are, of course, binding on your Ministers,”
he said, in tones of deep respect. “But you will perhaps permit us to
confess our ignorance of some of the points which your Majesty has, as
it were, taken for granted. You have spoken of distress, as if there
were some generally recognised distress prevailing in the country
at present. If there be anything of the kind it should be within my
province to hear of it, and of course to apply remedies. I can only
say, with the greatest deference to your Majesty’s better knowledge,
that no hint of any such distress has reached me.”
The King moved, and opened his mouth as if to interrupt. But he
remained silent, regarding the Minister with a puzzled air.
Herr Moritz saw that he had made an impression and pursued his
advantage.
“You have also spoken of demands on the part of the people. The elected
representatives of the people, composing the Lower Chamber of the
Legislature, have made no demands, so far as I am aware, which have not
been granted, wholly or partly. The only demands to which I can suppose
your Majesty to refer are those of the Socialists, whose numbers,
taking the figures supplied to you, are only three thousand.”
“But you said yourself that they had the active support of the poorer
classes.”
“In Mannhausen, true, Sire,” responded the Minister quickly; “but
Mannhausen does not represent Franconia. On the contrary, the nation
as a whole is profoundly loyal. The reigning dynasty is regarded as
a guarantee of the national independence, and the people have sense
enough to see that any attack on the present government would be simply
an invitation to Prussia to absorb us like Hanover.”
Maximilian leant his head upon his hands with a weary look.
“What am I to do?” he asked helplessly. “I hear one story from one
side, and now I hear the very opposite.”
“Inquire for yourself, Sire,” was the eager response. “Appoint a
Commission to gather evidence and report on the state of the country
and the needs of the people.”
The old Chancellor looked up and frowned. To his mind even this
proposal savoured of the guillotine and the dynamite bomb.
Maximilian closed the discussion in despair.
“I will consider your suggestion,” he said. “It is at least better
than naked repression. In the mean time, take no steps with regard to
the Mannhausen plots till you see me again.”
The two Ministers rose, and took their leave. As soon as they were gone
the King sent for Johann, with whom he engaged in earnest conversation.
The Count von Sigismark, meanwhile, was congratulating himself on the
comparative success with which his colleague had baffled Maximilian.
“We cannot complain,” he said, as they strolled back to his private
room through the spacious corridors of the Castle. “We have put him off
for a time, at all events. But it was unfortunate that you should have
made that admission about the working class being in sympathy with the
Socialists.”
“But you told me to let the King know the truth,” objected the other.
The Count heaved a deep sigh.
“My dear Moritz, you will never make a statesman! And then, why did you
suggest a Commission? A most dangerous proceeding!”
“Not if we put our own men upon it, surely,” answered the young man,
deprecatingly.
“But, my dear fellow, the King will insist on that scoundrel of a Mark
taking part in it. No, the Commission will never do. I tell you what
it is, Moritz, we must get this man away from the King at any price.
Do you think--” He glanced round to see that no one was near, and then
whispered something in his companion’s ear at which the other fairly
started.
“No, no, my lord; we must not think of that.”
The Count said nothing more, and they got to his apartment.
There they found the Lady Gertrude, who sprang impatiently towards her
father as he entered.
On seeing who was with him she restrained herself with some slight
confusion, and blushed as she acknowledged the warm greeting of the
young Minister. But her father’s inquiring look quickly recalled her to
the object which had brought her into his apartments, and she said--
“I have been waiting for an opportunity to see you all day. I have
something important which I must tell you privately.” And she glanced
at Herr Moritz.
He made a movement towards the door, but the Count stopped him.
“Wait! Do not go just yet.” And he led his daughter aside into a corner
of the room.
“Now, be quick! What is it?” he asked, expecting to hear merely of some
personal trouble of the capricious beauty. She quickly undeceived him.
“You have heard of that girl whom the King has been noticing
lately--the forester’s daughter?”
“Yes; what of her?”
“Did you know that she was in the Castle?”
“No! Here! Good heavens!”
“Yes. She came last night. The Princess Hermengarde has taken her into
her service--as a reader, she pretends.”
The old Count stared helplessly at his daughter.
“What does this mean? What is she aiming at now? Curse the woman!” He
turned round to his colleague. “Here, Moritz, you ought to know my
daughter’s news.” And he repeated what Gertrude had told him.
Moritz looked grave.
“I should look into this without delay, if I were you,” he said
anxiously. “You had better have an interview with the Princess, and
try to obtain an explanation. Does the King know of this?” he added,
turning to Gertrude.
“I believe not. In fact, I am sure. Her arrival was kept quite secret;
and the Princess has let very few people see her up to the present.”
Moritz turned to his patron.
“You see, sir, this paves the way for you. You can appear to be acting
on behalf of the King.”
“I think you are right. Shall I find the Princess in her apartments
now?”
“Yes,” answered Gertrude.
“Then I will go there at once. And you wait here till I return,
Moritz.” And he hurried away.
He had not bidden Gertrude to remain behind as well; but she did.