CHAPTER XXIX

COUNT VON RUDLOFF

The effect of my announcement was supreme. I myself was deeply affected,

and in the moments of critical silence during which the Emperor and his

old confidential adviser stood gazing at me I could not raise my head to

meet their looks.

The Kaiser was the first to speak.

"You have amazed me. I know you now, but I did not. What was the meaning

of your pretended death? Rise, I do not wish you to kneel to me."

There seemed a little hope in the last sentence. I got up slowly.

"It was not premeditated, sire. I gave my word to Count von Augener

here--"

"Stay," interposed the Kaiser quickly, turning a frowning face to his

adviser. "What is this?"

"I should prefer to discuss these matters in private with your Majesty,"

was the answer, not without what appeared to me to be some anxiety.

"Would you prefer to retire at once?"

"As your Majesty pleases."

This reply was given with great reluctance.

"Be it so, then," and the old man went away, giving me a glance of hate

as he passed.

I did not understand the meaning of this development, and stood waiting

in silence for the Imperial command to speak.

The silence lengthened itself into minutes, and, when I ventured to

glance at the Kaiser, I was disconcerted to find that he was staring at

me fixedly, and, as it seemed, very sternly. But there were certain

symptoms of unrest and agitation that made me believe that he was

forcing himself rather to repress every trace of the feelings I had

roused.

When at length he spoke, his voice had a depth and vibration which told

me, who knew him so well, how strongly he was moved.

"Why have you done this? Why deceive me with a gorgeous lie of your

death and funeral? Why never declare yourself till now?"

There was much more reproach than anger in the tone, and I began to hope

again.

"May I tell your Majesty plainly all that occurred? When that mad thing

happened on the yacht--a madness that will be an ever-pressing grief and

shame to me to my dying hour--I went out feeling that only death at my

own hands could wipe out the disgrace of it. I should have killed myself

that night but for the reflection that my death might come to be

publicly associated with what had happened. Then, the next day, Count

von Augener came and told me that unless I was dead within a week my

death would be an infamous one. The threat was unneeded, sire. That day

I went to Berlin to Dr. Mein S----."

And I went on to give him a succinct account of all the circumstances by

which the old doctor had led me to believe that I was dying, and had

played out the drama of my funeral while I lay in his house unconscious.

"I set out from Berlin," I continued, "to make the career which the old

man had spoken of, and my first effort was on the stage. There I learnt

the secret of disguise, and became what you see me, to all intents and

purposes another man in appearance. A little more than a year ago the

doctor died and left me his large fortune, and I was once again set

roaming, alive, but without a life to live, when I was carried, against

my will and in spite of my protests, to Gramberg, and plunged into the

seething cauldron of intrigue there. The rest your Majesty knows, and it

remains only for me to say that the one wild hope I had in carrying the

intrigue forward was that I might perhaps so control the position here

in Munich as to prove myself of service to you, sire, and be able to

plead it as a ground for your pardon."

His Majesty had made no comment during the whole narrative, and now he

stood for some moments without making a reply. He stared steadfastly at

me the whole time with an expression of sombre, stern melancholy. When

he spoke at length it was in the firm, quick, decisive tone which he

used when his mind was made up and his course chosen.

"I accept your story absolutely, for I believe you incapable of

intentional deceit toward me. So far as the Countess Minna is concerned,

it will be my personal care to see that she is righted, and her enemies

thwarted."

He ceased as abruptly as he had spoken.

"May I thank you----" I began.

"You have no right to speak for her," he interrupted shortly.

I took the rebuff in silence, and stood wondering what he would say as

to my own affairs. There came another long, trying pause.

"You did wrong, very wrong," he burst out, with sudden vehemence,

speaking almost passionately. "I have been badly served in your matters.

You were no more to blame than I myself, and you have made me bear for

five years the secret fear that I drove you to your death. And I have

cares enough without that."

He stopped, and I looked up as if to speak, but he silenced me with a

gesture; and the grandeur of his dignity awed me. I recognized the

supremely unselfish magnanimity of his act, and I longed to put my

feelings into words; but I fell back abashed and speechless before the

sense of intense power and majesty which surrounded him like a subtle,

magnetic force. He stood buried in thought, wholly self-absorbed for

some minutes; and then in the same abrupt manner broke the silence to

dismiss me.

"Leave me now, and remain in the ante-room. I will see you later or send

you my decision as to yourself."

I backed to the door, bowing, and had all but reached it in silence when

a hasty movement of his caused me to look up.

"Stay," he cried, and he came toward me with his quick, firm stride. "I

cannot let you go like this. I am glad you are living. You come back to

me out of the past that is, and must be, dead; and our friendship is one

of the dead things in it. An Emperor has no friend but his God. Still we

were friends once, and this is our more proper parting."

He held out his hand to me, and took mine and clasped it; and at the

clasp of it my blood thrilled in accord with a thousand thoughts and

promptings. I carried his hand to my lips.

"If your Majesty will give me a chance of serving you again in any

capacity, my life shall be ever at your bidding."

I spoke from my heart, and my voice trembled under the strain of my

feelings.

"I believe you. But you yourself have made it difficult. Save for that,

what might we not have been!"

There was no sternness or harshness in this. It was not my Emperor who

spoke, but for one fleeting instant it was the personal lament of my old

true friend whose friendship I had cast away. The words brought the

tears to my eyes, and I could not look up at him, though I knew his eyes

were bent upon me, and judged that their light was a kindly one. A

moment later the mood passed with him, or was crushed back by the

relentless power of his stern will. He drew himself up to his customary,

rigid, soldier-like attitude, and said in the short, sharp tone of a

military command:

"And now leave me."

I backed out, and took my place in the ante-room, a prey to a tumultuous

rush of emotions which flooded upon me, preventing for the moment any

attempt at consecutive thought. My mind was a maelstrom, in which hopes,

regrets, fear, and delight were mingled in an indistinguishable

whirlpool.

Presently, out of the roar and rush of inchoate emotions, three thoughts

began to dominate me.

Regret--bitter, maddening, and unavailing--for the years I had lost and

the career I had thrown away; wrath, wild and vengeful, against the old

enemy of my family, von Augener, for the treachery of his action toward

me; and delight, infinitely sweet, that Minna's safety was secured, and

that, after all, it was I who had secured it.

The last outweighed the others, and I lost myself in the maze of a love

reverie as I sat there, picturing the joy that would leap from her eyes

and the light that would gladden her beautiful face if only I could be

the messenger of the good news. And it was to be so.

After I had waited I know not how long, for time goes unmeasured in love

dreams, some one came and addressed me by a name that made me jump to my

feet and stare at the messenger like one half beside himself.

"Count von Rudloff!"

It was one of the two members of the suite I had seen with the Emperor

before my interview with him.

"You are addressing me, sir?" I asked.

"I am addressing the Count von Rudloff," he answered, with that air of

impassive coolness that men of his kind affect.

I made an effort to regain my self-possession, and to answer him with

the same measured calmness.

"I am the Count von Rudloff," I said.

"I bring you a letter from the Emperor, count."

He waited while I tore it open with fingers that trembled. It was short

and peremptory enough, but what did it not mean to me?

"I have decided to restore to you your title and possessions. The

question of your future career remains in abeyance for the present."

That was all; with the signature of the Emperor himself.

"May I be the first to offer a word of congratulation, count?" asked the

messenger.

"Thank you, thank you," I murmured. "It is all unexpected."

He still waited, and I thought there might be something more to add.

"Is there anything more to add?" I asked.

"His Majesty suggests that you should travel for a time--a year or so,

perhaps--so that the manner of your return to Berlin and your resumption

of your position may not seem to come as the result of this business

here in Munich."

"I understand," I said, though I still seemed in a dream. "And am I free

to go where I please now?"

"Certainly," he returned, smiling. "Can I be of any assistance?"

"No, thank you. No. I have some urgent business that will not wait

another second."

A minute after that I had left the palace, and was hurrying as fast as

horses could drag me to Minna to tell her the brilliant news.

A Dash for a Throne · 第 29 / 30 章