THE OLDNESS OF THE CHANCELLOR
MAXIMILIAN had not made an appointment with the Chancellor through the
telephone, either for an hour or place of meeting. He had been in no
mood at the time for the cool mapping out of details; and later, when
there had been plenty of leisure for reflection, he had let himself
hope that the Chancellor would already be willing to qualify his rash
accusations. If this were so, the old man would be as eager to avoid a
visit to the hunting-lodge as he had been a few hours ago to propose
it. Maximilian did not mean to let Von Markstein escape the obligation
of this visit, but he would have triumphed in the Chancellor's desire
to evade it, which would have meant much.
"If he still persists in his abominable idea that she has gone to the
hunting-lodge," thought the Emperor (with that vagueness of expression
which lovers of high or low degree use in designating the one woman in
the world), "he will risk no chance of missing me, but will be waiting
at the station. Should he, on the contrary, have had reason since our
talk to doubt the accuracy of his own information, he will take
advantage of the uncertainty I've left him in regarding my movements,
to keep out of the way."
So arguing, Maximilian looked sharply from the window as his special
train entered the Salzbrück station along the track that had been kept
clear for its arrival. No other train was due from any direction at
the moment, therefore few persons were on the platform, and a figure
in a long gray coat, with its face shadowed by a slouch hat, was all
the more conspicuous. Maximilian's heart sank. He believed in his
love, but he would have preferred the Chancellor's absence.
"I hope that Your Majesty will forgive the liberty I have taken in
being here, to place myself at your convenience and so avoid delay,"
were the old man's first words, as he took off his hat to the Emperor.
"I drove down from my house some time ago, expecting that you might
arrive by special train; and I need hardly say that my carriage, which
is waiting, is at your disposal for any use you may care to make of
it."
"I wish to go instantly to the hunting-lodge near Bünden," said the
Emperor, watching the other's face, and still hoping against hope for
a visible sign of discomfiture. But he was not to be gratified.
"I was prepared for that wish, Your Majesty," promptly said the
Chancellor. "The horses are fresh, and they will make the journey in
an hour and a half."
"Very well, then, there is nothing that need delay us. You are ready
to go with me, of course?" Another detective glance, destined again to
pass unrewarded by revelations.
"I am ready, Your Majesty--as always, I trust, when I am needed."
It was on Maximilian's tongue to say that it would be well if his
Chancellor's readiness confined itself entirely to such occasions; but
he shut his lips upon the words and walked by the old man's side in
frozen silence.
It was not yet eight o clock, but the month of October had just begun,
and the sun having set an hour or more ago, the swiftly fading
Rhaetian twilight had darkened into a starlit night. Though the day
had been warm, there was now a crisp keenness in the air, and the
Chancellor's coachman and groom had prepared themselves with high
sable collars for their country drive.
The horses, which had been kept moving up and down the long straight
avenue of the Bahnhofstrasse, were nervous and restive, and no sooner
had the green-liveried footman shut the carriage door than they
bounded off at a pace almost beyond control.
Both windows were closed, to keep out the chill, but Maximilian
impatiently lowered the one nearest him, forgetting the Chancellor's
tendency to rheumatism, and stared into the night. The railway station
was on the outskirts of the town; and speedily passing the few
warehouses and factories in the neighbourhood, they struck into the
open country. There was a pungent scent of dying leaves on the breeze
that blew in through the open window, and Maximilian knew that never
again could he inhale the melancholy fragrance of the falling year
with out recalling this hour, so vivid with sensations.
He was desperately eager to reach the end of the journey, that the
Chancellor might be confounded once for all; yet, as the horses hoofs
rang tunefully along the hard roads, and landmark after landmark
glided out of sight among tree-branches thickly laced with stars, he
would have stayed the passing moments if he could. He wished to know,
yet he did not wish to know. He burned to ask questions, yet would
have died rather than put them.
It was a relief when Von Markstein spoke at last; a relief that
brought a prick of resentment with it; for even the Chancellor had no
right to break a silence that the Emperor kept.
"Your Majesty's anger is hard to bear. Yet I can bear it
uncomplainingly, because I am confident that my reward is not far off.
I look for it no further in the future than to-night."
"And I think that you will get your reward!" retorted the Emperor
sharply.
"Not only in your forgiveness, but your thanks."
"I will forgive you when you have found Miss de Courcy for me, and
begged her pardon for your calumnies."
"I have already found her, Your Majesty, and am taking you to her
now."
"You actually believe your own story, Von Markstein? You believe that
this sweet and gracious lady is a fast actress, a friend of your
notoriously gallant friend, and willing to compromise her good name by
paying a night visit to his hunting-lodge? You really think that we
shall see her there?"
"I shall see her, Your Majesty. And you will see her, if this madness
you call love has not blinded the eyes of your body as well as of your
mind. That she is there I know, for the Prince told me with his own
lips that she was driving out to the lodge with him this afternoon."
"You mean that he told you his friend the actress was going. I'll
stake my life he did not dare to say Miss de Courcy."
"He said Miss Brand, the actress, it is true. But when he called upon
her at the Hohenburgerhof (where he and I had met to talk of a matter
which can be no mystery to Your Majesty) he asked for Miss de Courcy.
And the message which came down was that Miss de Courcy would see him.
This left no doubt in my mind (however the matter may present itself
to you) that she had remained in Salzbrück, after giving out that she
was departing to-day, for the express purpose of a meeting with her
old friend, the Prince. She probably hoped that, as she was supposed
to be gone, her indiscretion might be hidden from Your Majesty and
others."
"Pray spare me your deductions, Chancellor," said the Emperor curtly.
"I am with you in this expedition to prove you wrong, not right, and
nothing that you can say will convince me that the Prince's friend and
Miss de Courcy are one. If we find a woman at the hunting-lodge it
will not be the lady we seek; and as you will presently be ready to
eat the words you have spoken, the fewer such bitter pills you have to
swallow, the better."
So snubbed by the young man whom he had held in his arms, an imperious
as well as Imperial infant, the old statesman relapsed into silence.
But he had said that which had been in his mind to say, and he was
satisfied to know that it was left to rankle. Meekness was not his
_métier_, but he could play the part of the faithful retainer, humbly
loyal through injustice and misunderstanding, when it was the one
effective role; and he played it now to perfection. He sat with bowed
head and stooping shoulders, suggesting the weakness of old age, his
hands clasped on his knee; and from time to time he breathed a stifled
sigh.
His silent pathos wrung no sign of relenting from Maximilian, however,
and not a word was exchanged between the two men for nearly an hour,
until they had driven under the dark arch of the first trees of the
Niederwald. Then it was the Emperor who spoke.
"You have led me to suppose that our call at the hunting-lodge is to
take its master by surprise. Is that supposition the correct one,
Chancellor?"
Count von Markstein would greatly have preferred that this question
should have remained in abeyance. He had intended to convey the
impression credited to him by the Emperor, but he had not wished to
clothe it in actual statement. The Prince understood that he was to be
the leading actor in the "little comedy" to which he had merrily
referred, and he would know how to feign the astonishment
indispensable to success. It was to be hoped that he would have the
skill to carry it out to the end, since the Chancellor was now called
upon irrevocably to commit himself.
"Were our visit expected, we should not be likely to find the lady,
Your Majesty. The Prince, who is on terms of confidence with me, did
not hesitate to mention that he was to have a pretty actress as his
guest; how could he dream that the event would be of importance to the
Emperor of Rhaetia? But had he known that the entertainment he meant
to offer her might be interrupted, naturally he would, out of
consideration for the lady's feelings, have taken means to secure her
against embarrassment."
"This night's work will give him cause to pick a private quarrel with
me, if he chooses," said the Emperor, satisfied at least of the
Chancellor's integrity.
"I do not think that he will choose, Your Majesty. You are in a mood
to be glad if he did, I fear. But, after all, I need not fear. You
will always remember Rhaetia and put her interests before your own."
"You did not feel so confident of that a few hours ago, Chancellor."
"I was taken by surprise. But I knew well enough in my heart that when
the test should come, Your Majesty's cool head would prevail over the
hot impulses of youth. See, we are passing through the village of
Bünden, fast asleep already, every window dark. In another ten minutes
we shall be at the lodge gates."
The Emperor laughed shortly and somewhat bitterly. "Add twice ten
minutes to that, and we shall be out of the lodge gates again, with
Chancellor von Markstein a sadder and a wiser man."
Meekness was once more the rôle for "Iron Heart," and lifting his
hands, palm upward, in a gesture of generous indulgence, he denied
himself the satisfaction of retort.
The hunting-lodge, now the property of the Chancellor's accommodating
young friend, had until a year ago belonged to a Rhaetian semi-royal
prince, who had been forced by lack of sympathy among his creditors to
sell. The present owner was a keen sportsman, and, though he came
seldom, had spent a good deal of money upon much needed repairing of
the quaint old house in the woods. It was years since the Emperor had
visited the place, and the very outlines of the low rambling structure
looked strange to him, as in the distance they were silhouetted
against a spangled sky. He was glad of this; for he had spent some
happy days here as a boy, and he wished to separate from the past the
impressions which to-night must engrave upon his mind.
Two tall chimneys stood up like the erected ears of some alert,
crouching animal; the path to the lodge gleamed white and straight in
the darkness as a parting in the rough black hair of a giant; the
trees of the forest gossiped together in the wind. It seemed to
Maximilian now that they were evil things who told lies, slandering
his love, and he hated them, and their rustling; he hated the two
yellow eyes of the animal with pricked ears, which were only lighted
windows; he hated the young Prince who had bought the right to bring
scandal to this quiet place, and he would have hated the Chancellor,
had not the old man limped as he stepped down from the carriage,
showing how heavy was the burden of his years, as he had never shown
it before.
The carriage was bidden to wait at a little distance from the lodge,
and Maximilian, with "Iron Heart" at his side, walked up the path that
led to a hooded entrance. They ascended the two or three stone steps,
and the Chancellor raised the mailed, clenched fist that did duty as a
knocker. Twice he brought it down on the oak panel, and the sound of
the metal ringing against wood went echoing away through the house,
with an effect of emptiness and desolation.
Nobody came to answer the summons, and Maximilian smiled in the
darkness. He did not believe even that the Prince was there; a
practical joke had been played upon the Chancellor.
Again the mailed fist rang on oak. Only the echo replied. Von
Markstein was alarmed. He thanked the night, which hid the tell-tale
vein beating on his forehead from the keen eyes of the Emperor.
"I begin to think, Von Markstein, that we might as well look for Miss
de Courcy in a more likely, and, at the same time, more becoming
place," he remarked, with a drawl meant to be aggravating. "There
doesn't seem to be any one here; even the caretaker is out courting,
perhaps."
"But listen, Your Majesty," said the Chancellor.
Maximilian did listen. Steps could be heard approaching the door
inside the house--the sound of a heel on a floor of stone or marble.