At last the day arrived when a meeting between the lovers was possible.
It was but a week to Christmas (according to the eye-witness who
related these dramatic incidents to me) when, one morning, the hospital
train stopped at the nearest station to the headquarters of the Army of
the Carpathians. Count Seilern was waiting on the platform. He mounted
into one of the compartments. The train, naturally, contained neither
sick nor wounded men--only her Royal Highness, accompanied by a small
and discreet suite. Nobody had been told of her presence, not even the
Chief of Staff himself, General Conrad von Hoetzendorf.
The interview lasted a long time, and it was, doubtless, whilst the
lovers were forgetting the fleeting hours that some diligent spy went
to inform the General. Before the train continued on its journey, the
Archduchess Valeria descended on to the platform to spend the last few
minutes with the Count. Suddenly Conrad von Hoetzendorf appeared on the
scene and immediately recognized her Royal Highness, in spite of the
simplicity of her Red Cross nurse's uniform.
"I shall never forget that scene as long as I live," said my
informant; "a scene rendered all the more dramatic owing to the fact
that its opening passed without a word being spoken. General Conrad
von Hoetzendorf, in the presence of a scandal for which he might be
rendered responsible, went white with anger. After making a well-nigh
imperceptible bow to the Archduchess Valeria--who almost at once bade
the Count adieu, and mounted into her compartment--he fixed his cold,
grey eyes upon Seilern and kept them there until the train moved out of
the station. As he stood there, like a statue, we who were around him
could see the nervous twitching of the fingers of his clenched fists,
and could interpret the thoughts passing through his brain. His heart
was raging--first of all at the idea that his authority as the military
chief had been set at naught; secondly, because he saw a danger to
himself in the incident; and thirdly, on account of being placed, as
it were, in a position of inferiority as regards the man whom he had
detected in what he regarded as a flagrant breach of discipline. In
brief, belonging, as he does, to the new nobility, he was jealous of
the good fortune of his subordinate--this simple first lieutenant, who
turned not a hair, caught, though he was, in the act. But, like a wise
courtier, Hoetzendorf refrained from giving verbal expression to these
feelings, and it was not until the train--with the Princess waving her
handkerchief to her lover from one of the windows, and Seilern replying
with a salute--passed out of sight, that he opened his lips. Even
then, it was merely to order Count Seilern, in the iciest of tones, to
come to see him at headquarters. In the presence of his _entourage_
it was necessary for him to make an example of the offender--if only
for the purpose of ridding himself of responsibility. With the words,
'Lieutenant Count Seilern, you will come to see me this evening at
five, without fail,' he turned on his heels and strode away in the
direction of his car."
From that time onwards, the action of the drama in which Count Seilern
became involved quickened with bewildering rapidity. The incidents
which immediately followed I can describe from personal knowledge, for
it was my painful privilege to be present at the interview which took
place between General Conrad von Hoetzendorf and the man whom I had by
this time determined to support through thick and thin.
With the exception of the General's secretary, who had brought him some
letters to be signed, I was the only person present when Count Seilern,
punctual to the minute, was announced and ushered into the room of the
Commander-in-Chief, situated in a small _schloss_ on the outskirts of
the village.
A steely look came into Hoetzendorf's eyes as the young officer entered
and, with an apology for a salute, stood before him. The General
continued to sign his letters, unperturbed, and without omitting a
single flourish after his signature. Having come to the last one, the
secretary seized the batch of correspondence and hastened to retire. I
was about to do the same, having practically come to the end of my own
business, when the General motioned to me to remain, saying:--
"Captain ----, I wish you to stay here. You are, if I mistake not, the
lieutenant's friend, so there is no reason, it seems to me, why you
should not be present while I make a few friendly observations to Count
Seilern. They relate to a little affair which, as I dare say you know,
occurred this morning."
Uneasy at being retained as a witness of a scene which I instinctively
felt would be of the most painful character, I glanced at my friend
with the object of catching his eye, and expressing to him by a look my
uncomfortable state of mind.
To a certain extent, he relieved my feelings. At least, I interpreted
an almost imperceptible nod of his haughtily-raised head to mean
that he was rather pleased than otherwise I was there. I noted--not
without anxiety--a certain arrogance in his bearing, as though he were
still intoxicated by the declarations and promises which, presumably,
had been made to him in the course of his _tête-à-tête_ with the
Archduchess. On hearing Hoetzendorf speak of "friendly observations,"
he perceptibly bridled and coldly, almost insolently, replied:--
"And what may they be, General?"
"Lieutenant Count Seilern," began Conrad von Hoetzendorf, nervously
toying with his pen, and evidently making a great effort both to keep
his temper and choose his words carefully, "it is almost needless to
say that it gives me very great pain to have had to summon you here.
But I was in duty bound to do so. You, as a soldier, will surely
appreciate my position--the very difficult position in which your
conduct, which it was impossible for me to regard otherwise than as
reprehensible, has placed me----"
"Reprehensible? Opinions differ, General von Hoetzendorf," interjected
Count Seilern.
"Allow me to inform you, once for all, Lieutenant Seilern," replied
the General, omitting my friend's title and laying a slight emphasis
on his rank, "that as regards a question of military discipline, I can
permit of no two opinions. It is your duty to remember that we are on
campaign, and that this is no time for society play."
"I am of the opinion, General von Hoetzendorf, that my time is my own
when off duty, as was the case this morning," rapped out Count Seilern,
white to the eyes.
"Your time is Austria's--by which I mean that, even when off duty,
you should remember that this is no time for the amusements to which
members of your class are unfortunately addicted in days of peace.
I repeat that the dalliance of which you have been guilty is highly
reprehensible, so long as you are under my command, and I have reason
to believe that my Imperial master would support me in this view.
Understand, therefore----"