HERR MORITZ’S PLAN
THE intelligence of Maximilian’s mysterious departure had fallen like a
bombshell upon the conference between the Princess Hermengarde and Von
Sigismark.
Striving to command her secret thoughts, the Princess, with a nod,
dismissed her henchman Karl, and turned an inquiring look upon the old
Count.
Interpreting this as an invitation, the Count, who was unable to wholly
hide his consternation, returned slowly to his chair. He sat down, and
for some moments scrutinised the countenance of his royal ally. But it
was in vain that he sought to read anything in that stern and composed
face.
At length he was obliged to break silence.
“This is a new development, Madam. I confess I was not prepared for it.
When I left the King an hour or two ago, he had accepted a proposal on
the part of Herr Moritz and myself to hold an inquiry into the alleged
grievances of the people, and he seemed content to wait for the result
before taking any further steps.”
“Herr Moritz? Is he still in the Castle?”
“Yes, I believe so.”
The Chancellor replied with reluctance. He did not wish his subordinate
introduced into the intrigue of which Hermengarde was the centre.
“That is well. We may have to avail ourselves of his services
presently.”
“True. I did not think of that. You mean to ascertain where they have
gone?”
“I mean, to have them followed. I know where they have gone.”
“You know!” The Count could not conceal his surprise.
“Is it so very difficult to tell? Surely you do not think this man has
taken Maximilian away on some country excursion? There is only one
place to which he would be likely to lead him. You said yourself that
there had been talk of an inquiry into the condition of the people. Of
course they have set out to make that inquiry. You will find them in
Mannhausen.”
Von Sigismark started to his feet.
“Of course! Pardon me, Madam, but, with your permission, I will go at
once and telegraph to have the trains met and examined.”
Hermengarde shook her head.
“I am not sure that will be the wisest course. This affair must not
be allowed to get abroad. We cannot afford to run any risks. It will
be far better for Herr Moritz to go himself to Mannhausen, and put
detectives on the track of this man Mark. He is sure to be known to the
police, and by watching his usual haunts, they are certain to find him
sooner or later; and then it will be an easy task to find the King.”
“And when we have found him?”
“Really, that is a question which I have not considered. It is hardly
for me to teach the King’s Ministers their duty to the King.”
The Chancellor felt disconcerted. He began to repent of his
over-cautious tactics in their previous conversation. He saw that he
was now in the position of one asking for assistance, and that the
Princess realised, and was preparing to take advantage of, that fact.
“Perhaps,” he responded, “I am presuming on your goodness in discussing
with me other proceedings of his Majesty during the last few days.
I think I understood you to confide in me that you had entertained
certain fears as to his--”
“Fears as to his marriage. Certainly,” put in the Princess quickly, as
the old courtier hesitated.
“Pardon me, Madam, I think you even went a little further,” he
retorted, determined not to be put off. “Unless I deceived myself, I
understood that your Royal Highness felt some alarm as to his Majesty’s
conduct generally--alarm which had reference to the unhappy calamity
which has overtaken other members of the Royal House.”
This was plain speaking at last. Hermengarde carefully restrained
herself from any display of eagerness.
“Perhaps I spoke more rashly than I should have done; but I felt that
with such an old friend as yourself, and such a loyal servant of the
King, I could unburden my mind quite freely. However, you did not share
my anxiety on that score, and I trust you have dismissed my words from
your mind.”
“Again pardon me; no. On the contrary, I have most carefully weighed
and considered them, and particularly so in the light of this last
singular freak on the King’s part.”
The Princess was a woman. She could not resist the temptation of a
sneer.
“I see. It is the King’s conduct in abandoning your counsels for those
of Herr Mark which has opened your eyes.”
The old man’s eyes gleamed dangerously for an instant. Then he pounced
like a hawk on the opening she had given him.
“If you think, Madam, for one moment that I am capable of being
actuated by any personal pique in a matter of such grave importance, I
have only to apologise for having intruded on you so long, and to ask
permission to retire.”
Hermengarde saw her mistake. She put out her hand with a soothing
gesture.
“No, no, my dear Count; you have quite mistaken my meaning. I did not
intend my words to be taken seriously. It is of the last importance
that you and I should not misunderstand each other in so delicate
a crisis. Let us throw off all reserve, and discuss the situation
plainly. Are you prepared to do so, if I set the example?”
“I am.”
“Very good. I will put the facts as briefly as I can, and you interrupt
me if I omit anything. First, let me see how we are interested. My son
is at present the heir to the throne. It is, therefore, to my interest
that the King should not marry. Merely to prevent a marriage with
this girl or that would not be of much use, because, if he lived and
retained his mental capacity, it would be easy for him to find a wife
to whom I could raise no objection. Indeed, he is quite capable of
going off and contracting a secret marriage; and it is partly to guard
against such a step that I have brought this girl to the palace.”
The Count nodded emphatically.
“I, therefore, or rather my son, have everything to gain, and nothing
to lose, if it should turn out that our fears are well founded, and the
King has to be put under restraint. Now, what is your position? For
ten years the King has entrusted you with supreme power; and, if I may
be permitted to say so, you have used it with admirable discretion.
The country has been quiet, and the Court has been contented. But now,
what has happened? A stranger--worse, a criminal--has sprung out of
the earth, and, like Jonah’s gourd, he has grown up and overshadowed
you in a single night. He has converted the King to schemes which not
only involve your political overthrow, but which may well lead to a
revolution, and the spoliation of the whole class to which you belong.
And he has an additional hold upon him, through his mad infatuation for
his cousin. As things stand, therefore, your fall is merely a question
of months, perhaps only of days.”
The Chancellor interposed a faint objection.
“Before dispensing with my services, his Majesty would at least have
to find some man of responsibility who was able to take my place. And
where would he get one, prepared to take office on such conditions?”
“Anywhere. Out of the ranks of your own colleagues, who are all
ready to step into your shoes. Perhaps Herr Moritz is at this moment
meditating a scheme for persuading the King that he will make a more
pliable instrument than you.”
The Chancellor frowned, but attempted no reply.
“On the other hand, supposing the King to lose his power, who would
replace him as Regent? My son would naturally take the office when he
came of age, but until then, on whom would it devolve?”
“On one of two persons,” said Von Sigismark, seeing that she desired
him to answer. “On yourself or on the Count von Eisenheim.”
“Von Eisenheim!” exclaimed the Princess in some surprise. “But he is
too remote. Surely the Council would not pass over the mother of the
King?--I mean of the King-expectant.”
There is an old saying, once familiar in the mouths of statesmen,
that deposed monarchs seldom live long. Was it the recollection of
this proverb that made the subtle courtier stare so strangely at the
Princess when she made her unfortunate slip?
“No doubt you are right,” was all he remarked.
“At all events,” pursued the Princess, “that is a matter in which I
shall count on your good offices, if I may.”
The Chancellor bowed low.
“In that case,” she went on, “I need not say that there would be no
change in your position. Politics have always been distasteful to me,
and I do not think Ernest is likely to take much interest in them
for many years to come. You would remain as you were till the other
day, the virtual ruler of Franconia, instead of holding office at the
caprice of one whose state of mind is becoming only too apparent, and
subject to the interference and dictation of an upstart who aims at
nothing short of wholesale robbery and murder.”
“You have said enough, Madam. If the King is indeed going mad, we
cannot too soon have the fact ascertained.”
Hermengarde leant back in her chair and fixed a long and searching
gaze upon the Chancellor. This time it was she who failed to penetrate
beneath the impassive mask of the courtier.
“And how are we to ascertain it?” she said at length, putting the
question apparently with reluctance. “We can show the public that he
is contemplating marriage with a peasant girl; that he has made an
assassin his bosom friend; that he has urged his Ministers to start a
revolution, and has gone off secretly to the slums of Mannhausen to
fraternise with the enemies of society and of his throne.”
“All that is not enough. The public will expect medical evidence.”
“You mean--”
“Dr. Krauss must be consulted.”
“He is here.”
“Here?”
“Yes, in the Castle. I sent for him two days ago.”
Von Sigismark trembled. This woman’s terrible activity frightened him.
He felt himself, as it were, swept off his feet. It was some time
before he ventured to make a fresh remark.
“Have you considered, Madam, how we are to bring his Majesty and the
Doctor together?”
One of those strange still smiles, which, in a woman like Hermengarde,
were more menacing than a frown, came on her lips for an instant, and
vanished again.
“Is that indispensable?” was all she said.
“Undoubtedly. We cannot expect Dr. Krauss to act on hearsay. He will
require to examine the King personally, in order to arrive at an
opinion.”
“Indeed. Then in that case I am afraid I do not see any immediate
chance of success.”
Von Sigismark cogitated, while the Princess kept a cold watchful glance
upon his face, out of the corners of her eyes. Soon an idea occurred
to him; he resisted it for a time, but at length gave way to it, and
expressed it in words.
“Herr Moritz is here. He is a man of considerable shrewdness. Why not
consult him?”
“But that would involve taking him into our confidence.”
“True, Madam; but, after all, what have we to fear? Our action is
perfectly loyal. Certain proceedings on the King’s part have led us to
fear that his mind may be suffering from over-excitement, and we desire
that he may have the advantage of a physician’s advice. What is there
in that that we should hesitate to confide to a discreet man like Herr
Moritz, a man, moreover, holding a high official post?”
“Putting it in that way, we certainly run no great risk. But is this
colleague of yours to be trusted?”
“Absolutely. His devotion to me is unbounded, and I can answer for his
discretion as much as for my own.”
“In that case, I consent.”
Hermengarde summoned the page, and despatched him to the Chancellor’s
cabinet. While they waited, the two intriguers fell into attitudes like
those of wrestlers reposing for a brief spell in the intervals of an
exhausting struggle.
It was with no small surprise that the Minister of the Interior
received the summons. But no trace of this feeling appeared in his
countenance as he entered the room, and with perfect calmness saluted
the Princess, and accepted the seat which she assigned to him with a
silent gesture.
The Chancellor addressed him.
“We have sent for you, Herr Moritz, to invite your co-operation in an
affair of an extremely delicate nature, in which the strictest secrecy
is essential.”
The Minister bowed in a matter-of-fact way, evidently quite unconscious
of what was coming.
“The fact is that the Princess Hermengarde and myself have lately
become uneasy about the King.” Herr Moritz could not repress a slight
start. “You had the advantage of seeing his Majesty to-day, and I
believe you fully shared my sense of the danger to which his intimacy
with this fanatical Socialist was likely to lead. Well, already we
have had a warning of what is coming. The King and this man have left
the Castle by stealth, and we suspect that they have gone secretly to
Mannhausen.”
Herr Moritz’s face showed a grave apprehension.
“I see that you realise the seriousness of this. The first step we
have to take is to ascertain their whereabouts, and this comes into
your province. You will have to direct the police to watch for the
appearance of Herr Mark, and as soon as he is found, to track the King
through him.”
“I think that will not be difficult.”
“Very good. But that is not all. Of course, as soon as we know where
the King is, we can bring pressure to bear on him to return; but there
is a more important question behind. Both her Royal Highness and myself
are inclined to see in this escapade the symptom of an excited state of
mind in his Majesty which, in the interests of the dynasty, calls for
the most careful attention. I do not wish to put it more strongly than
that.”
“I quite understand, sir.”
“Very good. Then, as soon as his Majesty returns, we want to induce
him, if possible, to see the physician, Dr. Krauss. The question is,
how can we bring this about without provoking painful suspicions? I
thought that your suggestions might be useful as to this.”
“Would it not be possible to get his Majesty to consult Dr. Krauss as
to some other ailment?”
“Impossible. Krauss is known as a mind-specialist simply. The mere
mention of his name would suggest the worst.”
“It was Dr. Krauss who was called in, in the case of my husband,”
added the Princess, speaking for the first time. “And he attended
King Leopold in his last hours. I have noticed that my nephew has
always avoided admitting him into his presence. He once came on him
accidentally in this very room, and I have never forgotten the look he
gave him.”
Herr Moritz turned his eyes on the Princess while she was speaking.
“In that case, Madam,” he said, when she had finished, “I think I see
the only way in which it can be managed.”
And drawing his seat nearer as he lowered his voice, he proceeded to
develop his plan.
As he went on, the Princess and Von Sigismark exchanged quick glances.
At the end Hermengarde rose to her feet.
“Allow me to thank you, sir, for your very valuable aid. Go, and do
not lose a moment in carrying out what you propose.”
Herr Moritz bowed sedately and left the room. The old Chancellor
followed, gnawing his lip.
Hermengarde, left to herself, remained motionless in her seat for a
considerable time, plunged in profound thought. After a time she rose,
crossed the floor quietly, opened the door into the adjoining saloon
and looked through.
An hour before she had left her son Ernest there engaged in a game of
chess with Gertrude von Sigismark, while Dorothea Gitten was employed
on some embroidery work in a far corner. Now she beheld Gertrude
sitting by herself, absently toying with the chessmen, while Ernest
had placed himself on a stool beside the forester’s daughter, and was
eagerly talking to her.
Giving a slight stamp of her foot to draw their attention, the Princess
addressed her son--
“Ernest, do you not see that Lady Gertrude is ready for another game?”
The boy turned to her, frowning, but did not rise from his seat.
“It is my fault,” Gertrude hastened to explain. “I was compelled to go
and see some one, and I have only this minute returned.”
Hermengarde gave her a quick glance of suspicion, then she remarked,
without seeming to address any one in particular--
“It seems that the King has just left the Castle for a few days. No
doubt he has gone on one of his usual excursions.”
Ernest did not pay much heed, but the two girls looked at her with
surprise, and Gertrude ventured to ask--
“Is it known where his Majesty has gone to, Madam?”
“I believe not. I am told that he took Herr Mark with him.”
“Johann!” This time it was Dorothea who spoke. “Has he gone away
without leaving any message?”
The Princess smiled pleasantly.
“You forget he did not know you were in the Castle,” she said.
Then, turning once more to Ernest, she added--
“Come, sir, Lady Gertrude is waiting. Dorothea, I want you in the other
room.”
Dorothea arose and followed her mistress, while Ernest grudgingly took
his place at the chessboard.
The next two days in the Castle passed without incident. Dorothea was
still kept secluded to some extent from the Court, but as she grew more
accustomed to her new sphere, she gradually enlarged the number of her
friends. Enemies she had none, with perhaps a single exception, for
her gentleness and simplicity won over all who approached her. Even
the Count von Stahlen was conquered, and announced in confidence to
his satellite that he himself stood in serious danger of becoming the
Poacher’s Son-in-law.
The fondness for her society shown by the young Prince was not long in
exciting remark, a fondness which his mother seemed doubtful whether
to encourage or restrain. All the awkwardness and constraint which
marked his intercourse with the ladies of the Court vanished when he
found himself in the company of the peasant girl. He came to her on all
occasions, took her into his confidence about everything, and would
have asked her to ride out with him if the Princess had not interfered.
In the mean time, Hermengarde was anxiously awaiting intelligence
from Mannhausen. From time to time she sent for the Chancellor and
questioned him, but found he was still without news. At last, early
on the Monday morning he came to her, bringing the following laconic
message--
“I have carried out the arrangement. K. will arrive at noon.
“P. MORITZ.”