THE EMPEROR
When I entered the room the second time, old von Augener was still
sitting at the table, and the Emperor was standing at one of the
windows, his stern, strong profile showing to me clear cut and hard
against the light. I halted just inside the door, and stood gazing at
him. I was in a sense half fascinated by the crowd of emotions which his
presence roused. To me he was still what he had always been--the type of
much that is best and highest in mankind, while his actual greatness and
nobility were magnified many times by the glamour of my old personal
affection for him. Had he known who I was, what, I wondered, would have
been the manner of my reception? As I entered the room the two members
of the suite left it, and we three--the Emperor, von Augener, and
I--were left alone. Ignorant though the harsh old man was of my
identity, yet the hate and hostility which he had felt for me originally
appeared to motive him now, for he scowled to the full as angrily as on
that day when he had come to my cabin to pass the virtual sentence of
death upon me.
"Now," he called suddenly, with a sharp, rasping jerk of his voice, for
he saw that my eyes were fixed on the Emperor, "stand here, if you
please," and he pointed to a spot in front of his table. "You refused to
speak a few minutes since, and to tell me what you know of this matter.
Perhaps you will do so now since his Majesty has graciously vouchsafed
to give you another chance."
The harshness of his manner did more than anything else could have done
to collect my somewhat scrambled wits.
"I did not refuse to say what I knew--I refused to submit to
insinuations that were insulting to me. I told you that if you would
question me without insult I would reply. I am only too anxious to make
known every fact in my possession, and it was my intention to solicit an
audience of his Majesty for that purpose."
The old bully listened with very ill grace to this, and would have
frowned me down had he dared; but I was not to be stopped by him.
"You have told me how you went to Gramberg, and you allege that you
remained there to protect the Countess Minna from a plot against her.
How came you as a stranger to know anything about such a plot?"
"I was told that the Count von Nauheim was the acknowledged
representative of a powerful section of the Gramberg supporters here in
Munich, and that it was a part of the compact that he should have the
countess as his wife; the alleged reason being the desire to secure to
that section a direct share of the influence which the throne would
naturally wield. As I knew that the count was already married, and a man
of the vilest and most infamous character, the inference of treachery
lay on the surface."
"The inference might affect the man himself, but how do you know that
others were aware of his character?"
"The fact itself was a sufficient motive to induce me to try and save
the girl from such a man--the proofs that others were concerned with
him came afterward and gradually."
"What proofs?"
"That von Nauheim, at the instigation of others, had virtually murdered
the Countess Minna's brother at the moment when a former plot was rife
to carry the throne and put the Count Gustav upon it. The murder was in
this wise;" and I told the story of Praga's duel.
As I spoke, unfolding the story gradually and with such skill as I had
at command, I saw the face by the window growing darker and gloomier and
sterner every minute.
"There is a nest of vermin here that needs clearing out," exclaimed von
Augener at the close. "How do you know all this?"
"From Praga himself, who extorted the confession of the whole plot from
von Nauheim both in writing and afterward in the presence of the
Countess Minna and myself. Praga was himself attacked in turn by the
agents of these men, because he had refused to do what they wished--to
murder me. By a lucky stroke of fortune, it was I who chanced to come to
his help."
"What attempts have been made on you, and, in your opinion, why?"
For answer I described the means by which I had at the meeting managed
to make my life necessary for the carrying on of their scheme.
"There was a plot within a plot," I said--"an open plot, of which the
securing of the crown for the Countess Minna was the object ostensibly;
and a secret one, which aimed at her ruin, to make her unfit to become
Queen by mating her with a man already married, or to ruin her by
putting her into his power for an object infinitely more foul and vile.
It was against that I had to fight, and to fight almost single-handed;"
and I went on to describe at length many of the incidents of the past
few weeks.
"Why did you not come to Berlin, sir?"
The question came from the Emperor, who wheeled round on me as if
clinching an accusation, while he stared fixedly at me, those searching,
piercing, wonderful eyes of his boring into my head.
"You would have spared us all this trouble."
"I should have spared myself also the humiliation of having no
sufficient answer to your Majesty's question," was my reply. "I see it
now. My motive was that I feared the enmity of the Ostenburg family
would reach the Countess Minna wherever she might be. I was told, and
believed that indeed, that they would suffer no Gramberg rival for the
throne to remain alive and at liberty. I knew that they had compassed
the death of the brother and had plotted a dishonor worse than death
against the countess herself, and I believed there were no limits to
their venom and hostility."
"But how could you hope to save her by allowing things to go on?" he
asked again after a pause in the same sharp, indicting tone.
"I thought I had devised a scheme by which I could put the countess in a
position of such strength that she could dictate virtually her own
terms, and so secure that liberty which I feared they would never
otherwise concede. My plan was to allow the conspiracy to go forward for
putting the countess upon the throne, to postpone the marriage with von
Nauheim, and then to watch for and thwart the attempt I knew would be
made to get her into their power; and at the same time to deliver a
counter-blow and to get the Ostenburg heir, the Duke Marx, into my own
hands. I calculated that then I could make my own terms in the
countess's interests."
"'Fore Heaven, sir, you don't lack daring to play fast and loose with
thrones in this way," cried von Augener; while the Emperor stood sternly
silent, revolving what I had said.
"Tell me the rest," he said abruptly.
"My scheme broke in my hands, because I was myself betrayed to them. The
Baron Heckscher succeeded in gaining information of my plans, or rather
of that part of them which I had made for the safe-keeping of the
countess, and he outwitted me at the last moment," and I described the
whole ruse by which Minna had been carried off at the ball and Clara
Weylin put in her place.
The story was interesting enough to them, and both listened closely.
When I ended, von Augener bent to read some of the papers on his desk,
in order, as I saw, to compare what I had told him with what had been
previously reported to him.
But the Kaiser needed no notes; that extraordinary memory of his carried
every detail, item, and particular, and as I was telling him my version
he was comparing it link for link with what he already knew, in a
process of subtle mental analysis.
"And your next step?" he asked sharply after a short pause.
"To make my possession of the Duke Marx perfectly secure, and then to
warn Baron Heckscher that I held the duke as a hostage for the safety of
the countess."
"Do you mean to admit that you openly threatened to use violence on the
person of the duke, the heir to the throne?" asked von Augener, as if
aghast at my temerity in venturing on such a confession.
"I threatened it, and I meant it too," I replied, in a voice firm enough
to prove that I was in earnest.
"You can see the heinousness of that offence?"
"It was not a tenth part so bad as the offences of the Ostenburg party.
They had actually murdered one heir and threatened another. I had chosen
a course and was compelled to carry it out my own way. But I knew the
baron would never drive me to an extreme step of that kind. While I held
the duke in pawn the baron was helpless and had no option but to yield
to me. And this I made him understand," and with that I gave them a full
report of my last interview with Baron Heckscher, and of the compact we
then made--that Minna should be given up to me and the Duke Marx set at
liberty, the condition being that the former should go away and leave
the latter at liberty to come forward when called to the throne, and
that there should be a subsequent definite renunciation by Minna of all
claim to the crown.
"A pretty ring of king-makers, indeed!" exclaimed von Augener.
"And that 'compact,' as you term it, was carried out?" asked the
Emperor.
"Yes, sire. But everything was jeopardized at the eleventh hour by the
villany of the man von Nauheim, who made a bold effort to break away
with the countess, having as his confederate her aunt, the Baroness
Gratz."
"You scatter your charges with a free hand, young man. Every one appears
to be a rogue but yourself," ejaculated von Augener, whose malice
apparently prompted him to see and put my conduct in the worst light.
The Emperor lifted a protesting hand, however.
"Tell your tale," he said, addressing me curtly.
"Every word I say can be tested by independent inquiry," I answered.
"These people are accused not by my words, but by their own acts."
I described then my journey to Landsberg and what had happened there,
though I said nothing of the love scenes.
"And by that time, I suppose, you thought you had done enough to warrant
you in running off with the countess herself?" said old von Augener.
I made no reply, but kept my face as though he had not spoken.
"How came you to attempt to fly the country?" asked the Emperor.
"I was not attempting to fly the country, sire," I replied readily. "I
had told the countess of the interview with Baron Heckscher, and my
advice to her was that she should put the frontier between her and the
enemies who had betrayed and persecuted her with such virulence. I was
taking her to Charmes, to the care of the man in whose place I stood,
Herr von Fromberg, now known as M. Henri Frombe; and I had told her that
I should immediately return either here or to Berlin to lay her case
before your Majesty, that her interests might be secured and herself
protected from further violence."
"But you kept up your personation of the Prince," cried von Augener,
seeing another point to be scored against me.
"I deemed that a necessary step until all could be explained. The
countess was left at Landsberg without a friend to whom she could turn.
The Baroness Gratz, who should have protected her, had first betrayed
her to Baron Heckscher, and then connived at von Nauheim stealing away
with her from Landsberg. What then was I to do? I had explained to her
that I was not the Prince, and it seemed that my only possible course
was to take her to where she would at least be in the care of a
relative, and, as I judged, safe. What else should I have done?"
"Is that all you have to say of your part in the plot?"
The question came from the Emperor as sharply as a pistol shot.
"I think I have told your Majesty everything of my share in it."
"You haven't told us what you hoped to gain by your work," said the
vindictive old man, ruthless in his desire to injure me. "But I suppose
it's no use to ask that," he added--this with a shrug of the shoulders,
as if to suggest that I was no better than a paltry, unreliable rascal,
who would tell any tale and any lie to serve his own ends.
I let the sneer pass unheeded.
"Could you form any opinion of the state of feeling in Munich or in the
kingdom?" was the Emperor's next question.
"I know but little of either Munich or Bavaria, sire. The men I came in
contact with were certainly men of influence, and as certainly were
moved by feelings of deep resentment against the conduct of the King,
his extravagance in particular. But I was planning for the Countess
Minna's safety, and not probing Bavarian politics."
The Kaiser's face gave no indication of the impression which my words
created, and after a moment's thought he dismissed that part of the
matter with a sentence, and turned to another.
"You will write out a list of all the men whom you met. And now, what
of the Countess Minna? Speak as plainly of her part as you have of your
own."
The last words were welcome indeed. Like the wave of a brush, they wiped
out the sneers of von Augener, and showed me they had produced no
effect.
"I thank you, sire," I answered, my pulse quickening. "The countess has
had no part or lot in all this, save that of passive acquiescence in my
suggestions. She was against the scheme when her brother was the
claimant for the throne; she remained hostile to it when he had been
killed; and when the Prince, her father, died, she was resolute never
under any circumstances to consent to take the crown. It was only the
knowledge that her own personal safety was imperilled, and the belief
that by this apparent agreement with the scheme she could best secure
that safety, which induced her to consent--to even appear to consent--to
any such plot being carried on in her name. For that belief I myself
accept the responsibility. She left it to me to select the best road to
safety, and she is as innocent as any unborn babe of even an intention
to conspire against the King."
"You have taken a grave responsibility," he said sternly.
"And I trust your Majesty will visit on me alone the consequences," I
answered earnestly. "This unfortunate girl had scarcely any one round
her but those who were plotting to betray her, and it will be a strange
irony if I, who at least was loyal to her, have brought her under the
heavy lash of your Majesty's displeasure."
I spoke with warm feeling, and went on to put such reasons as my fear
and love for Minna prompted why any penalty for what had been done
should fall on me.
And as I spoke I watched the Emperor with eager, hungry keenness for
some sign that my pleading was likely to prevail. But not a feature was
relaxed for an instant, not a sign or token did he give of feeling. The
face retained the same set, impassive, inflexible, gloomy sternness
which he had maintained throughout. He heard me to the end, but made no
response or reply.
There remained then but one thing more for me to say, one more avowal to
make, and I thought of it with something like foreboding. He seemed so
cold, so unimpressionable, so infinitely removed from me, that I could
not bring myself to hope that any good would result from my declaring my
identity. There appeared no chords of old friendship, no associations of
comradeship to reawaken. But there was at least the chance that it would
convince him I had spoken the truth.
He appeared to me as the type and embodiment of cold, rarefied,
unemotional intellectuality. Judgment founded on justice, but
feelingless; mind, not heart; the very presentment of retributive
righteousness without the warmth of charity. A man who had accepted the
high mission of his rulership in a spirit of unshakable faith in the
heavenly character of the mission, but who in accepting it had bound
down with the iron clamps of an implacable will the milder attributes
which go to make humanity human.
Who was to say what would be the effect of an avowal like mine which,
like a sudden sword-thrust, might pierce for once his armor of
inflexibility and set flowing again the blood of his older nature?
It was he who touched the subject first, and in the form which I had
anticipated. He broke a long pause to say:
"You have spoken freely enough, but what is the guarantee of your
truth?"
I paused an instant, and, looking him straight in the face, I answered,
with slow emphasis:
"I have never told your Majesty a lie in my life."
The unexpected character of the reply set him thinking, and he fixed his
eyes on mine.
"What do you mean by that? Who are you and what was your real motive in
this?"
Von Augener was also staring hard at me, and I could see that both were
thinking hard in the effort to solve the puzzle I had evidently set
them.
I let a minute pass without a word, and then said in a low voice:
"I am a man who for years has been under a ban, condemned to live an
empty, useless, purposeless life. I saw in this affair at once a means
of helping a helpless girl who was sorely beset by dangers; I longed for
some sphere of activity for myself again; and I hoped that possibly I
might even achieve an object that is never out of my thoughts."
I found myself speaking for the first time with nervousness and
hesitation; and I faltered, and then stopped.
The Emperor made no reply, but kept his eyes fixed piercingly on my
face.
Old von Augener sneered.
"We are getting to the truth now, I suppose."
The sneer was just the tonic I needed. I found my voice again, and went
on in the same low tone.
"For years I have been one of the most pitiable and remorseful of your
Majesty's subjects, and I was fighting in this thing in the vague hope
that it might possibly in some means enable me to regain part of my old
character."
I thought I could detect a faint symptom of concern on the tense, set
face turned full on me--just a momentary dilation of the nostrils; but
it passed before my pause ended, and in quite as brief, stern a tone as
he had before used he asked:
"Who are you?"
I took heart, and tried to brace myself for the final effort.
"Your Majesty, one day some years ago in one of the upper reaches of the
Elbe where the current was known to be fierce and dangerous two lads,
who had stolen away from their companions, were bathing alone. The river
was flooded and swollen, and the stream more than commonly perilous to
the swimmers. It proved too powerful for one of them, and he gave a cry
and sank. His friend--for they were close friends then--himself
struggling hard with the stream, was ahead, and had nearly reached the
bank, but turned back and dived for his friend, and under the mercy of
God was the means of saving his life."
I stopped. The Emperor was staring at me with a look of such intentness
as I have never seen on any human face before or since. He had drawn
himself to his full height; and every muscle of his sinewy, powerful,
tireless frame was at full tension, while his breath was labored, and
came and went through his dilated nostrils as though the passing of it
were a pain.
But he made no answer.
"One of the lads, sire, the one whose life was in danger, was the future
ruler of the mighty German empire; the other"--I paused again, and then
suddenly threw myself on one knee before him--"was your Majesty's most
miserable subject, the Count Karl von Rudloff, whose shameful, violent
deed against you later has now been punished by five years of bitter
remorse and hopeless solitude. I am that unhappiest of men."
"Von Rudloff?" cried the Emperor, now in amazement, while the older man
sprang to his feet, and both stood looking down at me in unbounded
astonishment.