REVOLUTION AND ROSE-WATER.
Princess Eirene Theophanis sat alone in the garden at Bashi Konak,
her fingers busied with embroidery, her mind with the progress made by
her husband’s cause since their arrival at the little Dardanian
capital. The Prince of Dardania was a true friend, an ally to be
depended upon. Eirene had felt this from the moment she perceived that
he had sent his brother-in-law in command of the guard which was to
meet the travellers at the frontier and escort them to the city. True,
Colonel Roburoff was only a handsome Scythian officer with whom
Princess Ludmilla of Dardania had made a runaway match, but her
brother had taken the couple back into favour, and the successful
adventurer commanded his Guard. That he should be sent to receive
Prince and Princess Theophanis showed a just sense of their exact
position, as claimants _de jure_ of a right not yet recognised _de
facto_, paying a private visit from which important public events
might hereafter develop. The same consideration had been shown in
allotting them quarters. Colonel Roburoff had apologised for the fact
that they were accommodated, not at the Palace, but in a house hired
for the occasion, on the ground that the royal dwelling was already
inconveniently crowded, but had pointed out, with due mystery, the
superior opportunities thus afforded for conference with friends and
supporters. Moreover, on the occasion of the meeting at the frontier,
Zoe had received, from a confidential attendant of the Princess of
Dardania, a bouquet gathered, so she was assured, by the royal hands
themselves, and concealing a little scented note which read, “To the
profound, the accomplished Zeto, from the humblest of her admirers,
Emilia.” Even now Zoe was spending the morning at the Palace,
whither she had been summoned by a special messenger to cheer the
Princess, who was prevented by slight indisposition from accompanying
her husband to the arena to watch the games. Eirene reflected with
pleasure that not only was this romantic friendship beneficial in the
extreme to the Theophanis cause, but also that the Princess’s devotion
was likely to keep Zoe a good deal out of Wylie’s way.
There was an old feud between Eirene and Wylie, which had only been
temporarily bridged over when Zoe’s rejection of him called forth her
sympathies. He had seldom shown the Princess sufficient deference to
satisfy her, though he was never otherwise than polite, and she had an
uneasy suspicion that he despised the various little assumptions by
which she sought to assert her dignity. Maurice gave her no support in
these matters, she thought bitterly, and she was sure she had caught
Armitage laughing when she hinted that it was more correct to say he
had gone out “in attendance on” the Prince than merely “with” him.
Why, even when they were about to enter the royal carriages sent to
convey them to Bashi Konak, Maurice had flatly refused to let Zoe sit
with her back to the horses. “But you are the Emperor, Maurice,” his
wife had pleaded. “I’m not Emperor yet,” he replied promptly; “and
when I am, if the imperial funds don’t run to a separate carriage for
Zoe, one or other of us will stay at home.” Trials like this made
Eirene almost despair of her husband. Other people might think such
things trifles, but to her, brought up in a Court, their real
importance was manifest. How was Maurice ever to assume his proper
place if he would not submit to the rules governing his caste? Even
his wife could not prevent him from taking his own line. When she had
succeeded in goading him to a certain course of action, as often as
not he would somehow contrive to carry it out in a wholly unexpected
way. It was he who had sent for Wylie, and disconcerted her grievously
by doing so, for she had relied on his English dislike for foreigners
to keep him isolated from his supporters and dependent on her for
counsel. It did not mollify her displeasure when, in answer to her
remonstrances, he remarked, “I want one honest man at my back that I
can trust, to look after you and Zoe and the little chap, if anything
happens to me.” “I could trust our people,” she had said
reproachfully; to which he replied, “Oh, could you? I couldn’t,” and
went out to post his letter. And here was Wylie established as
Maurice’s guide, philosopher, and friend, in no way inclined,
apparently, to presume upon the favour shown him, but still the one
man in whom Zoe had ever shown more than a contemptuous interest.
Almost unconsciously, Eirene had come to regard her sister-in-law,
during the last few years of planning and plotting, as an asset that
might be valuable, rejoicing when she refused various eligible offers.
But of what avail were those refusals if she turned again, after all,
to the man for whose sake they were made? If only Zoe could have been
safely engaged to some desirable person before Wylie reappeared on the
scene! As that was not the case, however, it was a moral duty to keep
her from throwing herself away on an obviously unsuitable man, who
could contribute nothing but his sword to further the great cause, and
whose loyalty was already certain.
While these thoughts were passing through Eirene’s mind, some one came
into sight at the end of the garden path, some one who was cheerfully
contributing a good deal more than a sword to the cause. Princess
Theophanis knew, though her husband did not, the exact nature of the
cargo carried at the present moment by Armitage’s yacht, which was
cruising at large without its owner in the eastern Mediterranean, and
paying only rare and hurried visits to territorial waters. Armitage
was a valuable asset without any drawbacks such as attached to Wylie,
and Eirene felt that Maurice had shown even more than his usual
unwisdom in declining to accede to her suggestion, and dispense with
his old friend’s services, when she announced that Armitage would take
part in their venture. She met him with a friendly smile as he came
towards her down the path.
“I have just had a letter from Waters--that’s my captain--which will
relieve your mind, ma’am,” he said. “It was all a false alarm about
that Pannonian man-of-war they thought was shadowing them. Waters took
a bold course and went on board her to ask if they could give him any
news of me, and they paid him a return visit quite in an unsuspicious
spirit.”
“I wish we could get rid of the arms,” said Eirene anxiously. “The
slightest accident, or an incautious remark from one of your crew,
might----”
“Give the whole show away,” supplied Armitage, as she paused. “I
suppose we could arrange to hand the things over to one of the bands
if we could fix on the right spot to land them; but I thought that
wasn’t what you wanted, ma’am?”
“No, no; of course not! It is absolutely essential that we should keep
a supply in our own hands, that we may not be dependent upon any of
the Committees. And we must not land and conceal it on any of the
islands, in case it should be necessary to act suddenly. Even now I
fear we may not be able to communicate with your yacht quickly enough
in case of a crisis.”
“I have thought of a way of doing that, ma’am. Waters is lying at
present in a little harbour called Pentikosti, just to the south of
the Dardanian frontier. He has made friends with the Roumi officials,
and applied a little palm-oil judiciously, giving them to understand
that I may come down over the mountains at any time, and the yacht is
to wait for me. They will give him every facility for hearing from us,
and he will stand on and off outside the harbour, and keep a good
look-out both ways.”
“It is excellent!” said Eirene warmly. “Your ingenuity is as admirable
as your helpfulness, Lord Armitage. I trust that one day I shall be
able to reward both.”
Such phrases were often on Eirene’s lips, as in the days when they had
been received with mingled scorn and resentment by her ignorant
fellow-travellers, but it was a novelty for them to be welcomed as
this was.
“I don’t know about one day,” said Armitage, with desperate boldness.
“You could do something for me now, ma’am, that would leave me in your
debt for ever.”
She looked at him with surprise plainly tinged with displeasure, but
her voice was no less gracious than before. “In our present
circumstances I had hardly hoped to be able to reward our friends
otherwise than by my thanks, so I am happier than I thought. What is
there that the Prince and I can do for you, Lord Armitage?”
“It is Princess Zoe--I love her,” he broke out. “If I could make her
care for me, would you oppose it?”
Eirene’s first impulse was to gain time for thought. “But you--I never
thought of you,” she said confusedly. “It was always--I mean, you are
not the person.”
“I have cared for her ever since the night I first saw her by the
camp-fire under Hadgi-Antoniou,” he answered; “but of course I knew
how it was with Wylie, and I tried to put all thought of her out of my
head. And I was always so hard-up in those days, too; I had nothing to
offer her. Then when the title and all the rest of it came to me,
there was still Wylie to think of; I made sure he would come back some
day and ask her again, and she would have him. But now that he has
given up all thoughts of her----”
“Given up all thoughts of her!” repeated Eirene. “How can you possibly
know?”
“He told me,” said Armitage, unshaken. “Said that that sort of thing
didn’t interest him now.”
“Oh, but that’s only because he is feeling ill and miserable,” said
Eirene quickly, but checked herself. After all, even if this change of
feeling on Wylie’s part was only temporary, why not take advantage of
it? A marriage between Armitage and Zoe might not be all that her
ambition had planned, but it offered certain solid benefits. Eirene
was not blind to the fact that the support of a British peer, with an
ancient title and a fair amount of wealth, had already proved useful
in investing the Theophanis cause with an atmosphere of
plausibility--even respectability, and it would be a wise stroke to
attach him permanently to the family. There could be no question of
putting pressure on Zoe, of course, and Maurice, in his
unreasonableness, would see to it that the final decision rested
freely with her; but pending the prospect of a more magnificent
alliance, there could be no harm in not destroying Armitage’s hopes.
Eirene spoke low and confidentially. “I can make no promises for Zoe,”
she said; “for what you have told me may surprise her as much as it
does me, but I see no reason--at any rate at present--why she should
refuse you. Certainly I can promise that I shall not set myself
against the idea.”
“You are awfully good, ma’am. I don’t think I could be more interested
in Teffany’s--I mean the Prince’s--cause than I was before, but it
makes one frightfully keen to feel that one’s in it oneself in a sort
of way. I know I have nothing to offer Princess Zoe compared with what
she might expect, but----”
“I have found my happiness in marrying an English gentleman, and I can
wish nothing better for my sister,” said Eirene, with something of
reproof in her voice, and Armitage wondered how he had erred. He could
not know that the mere suspicion of failure in the great scheme, the
hint at a possible future in which Lord Armitage would once more be a
bridegroom in no way to be despised by the sister of Maurice Teffany
of Stone Acton, had become intolerable to Eirene. Zoe had misjudged
her when she told Wylie that Mr Teffany-Wise’s legacy had led her to
make a religion of the Theophanis claims. It was the birth of her son,
in whose veins ran the blood of both the elder and younger lines of
the descendants of John Theophanis, that had roused afresh in Eirene
the ambition which had slumbered a little under her husband’s
influence during the first years of their marriage. Constantine
Theophanis must yet sit on the throne of Czarigrad, and be invested
with the imperial diadem in the cathedral of Hagion Pneuma, and to
this end his parents must submit, if necessary, to the humiliating
task of accepting office as the nominees of the Powers, to
masquerading as temporary tenants where they were the rightful
inheritors. This Eirene could do without a murmur, but she could not
contemplate returning unsuccessful to Stone Acton, to meet the
half-veiled contempt of the acquaintances whose friendly advances she
had rebuffed, and to hear them ask whether she and Mr Teffany thought
of sending their little boy to the Grammar-school in the neighbouring
town? “No? and the education is so thoroughly good! A public school?
Mr Teffany was at Harrow? Oh, of course, but in these days of reduced
rents---- And boys picked up such expensive ideas at public schools.”
Eirene drew in her breath sharply, and said, in the tone which
Armitage had learnt to interpret as a dismissal, “You may rely on me.
If you want my advice at any time I shall be delighted to give it. Do
I see Professor Panagiotis coming through the house? Bring him to me
at once, please.”
Armitage obeyed, retiring when he had finished his errand. The
Professor waited until he was out of sight before he spoke. “You have
received further news from Scythia, madame?” he asked then, but rather
as though stating a fact than putting a question. Eirene, who had
guessed before this that he contrived to make acquaintance with at
least the outside of the letters intended for his nominal employers,
betrayed no resentment.
“Yes, I have another letter from the Grand-Duchess Sonya,” she said;
“and I can hardly doubt that she writes with the knowledge of the
Empress. The tone is markedly friendly, and she speaks more than once
of the sympathy with which they are watching events here, and their
strong hope that the Prince will be able to prove his title.”
The Professor’s face did not show the satisfaction that might have
been expected. “It is too good,” he said. “I distrust this excessive
amiability.”
“I think they are surprised at our strength,” said Eirene quickly,
“and already bidding for our future support.”
“Without an effort to realise the hopes of centuries, which our
success would frustrate?” asked the Professor. “No, madame. There is
something behind. It is this warm encouragement that perplexes me.
Tacit sympathy I should have expected, but coupled with warnings
against rashness, and with every other recommendation that might tend
to cause delay.”
“But they cannot know how fast we are moving,” she urged eagerly. “You
yourself have said that the reasonableness of the delegates astonishes
you.”
“True, madame; the impression produced by his Highness is most
gratifying, Greek and Slav both believing that they have found their
champion in him. The military proposals of Colonel Wylie have also
been well received. But as I said just now, it is too good. I should
wish to see more opposition. Knives have not been drawn once during
the sittings. One delegate’s hand went to his revolver during a
discussion which had become a little heated, but the Prince borrowed
the weapon at once to look at, and kept it on the table before him the
rest of the morning.”
“Ah, you see, they know him already, and they do not care to oppose
him. Our task will be shorter than we expected. The delegates will
swear allegiance to him, and he will have Christian Emathia at his
feet. Then----”
“Then, madame, we shall have to deal with the Powers--a very different
matter. The conscience of Europe has to be roused before they can be
induced to intervene.”
“By massacres, I suppose?” Eirene shuddered. “The Prince will never
agree to that.”
“The Prince will not be consulted, madame. The lamented philanthropist
to whom the Emathia of the future owes so much recognised that in
certain qualities your Royal Highness has the advantage over your
husband, while in other respects he is superior. It is this
combination that is of such promise for your future rule. You will not
shrink from the measures necessary to bring that rule about.”
“No, it would be criminal to hold back now.”
“Madame, you put into words my very thoughts. Assume--though I cannot
believe it possible--that this conference closes next week, having
arrived at a unanimous decision to support your husband. There will be
just time for the delegates to return to their districts before the
snow melts sufficiently to allow of the movement of troops. The Roumis
are already irritated by our successes of the autumn, and the attacks
that have been made even during the winter on their outposts. They
will be in a mood to act energetically, and repress all outbreaks with
severity. You know what that means. Outbreaks will occur. They will be
put down. The details will be spread far and wide. Christendom will be
roused, will send representatives to inquire into the state of
affairs. We shall continue to resist. The Roumis will continue to act
with vigour. The Powers inquire into our demands. We desire a
constitutional government under the suzerainty of Roum, but with a
Christian Governor appointed by the Powers and responsible to them,
and for the post we suggest the descendant of our ancient Emperors, to
whose banner all sections of Christians in Emathia are willing to
rally. We may not at first obtain all we ask, but Minoa has taught us
the value of perseverance.”
“But if the Roumis should not act with severity?” broke in Eirene.
“This new Greek Vali of Therma, appointed in response to the protests
of the Powers in the autumn--he will not promote massacres.”
“For Skopiadi Pasha’s influence I would give that!” cried the
Professor, snapping his fingers. “It is not he who rules,--he has
enough to do to look after his own safety,--but the Military Governor,
Jalal-ud-din Pasha. He commands the troops in the city and in the
field; he is one of the old school, and believes in prompt repression.
He would not hesitate to arrange for Skopiadi’s removal if he opposed
him--and truly we could ask for nothing better!”
“At least,” urged Eirene, “let there be as little bloodshed as
possible. Could we not contrive to rescue and arm the threatened
Christians before they could be massacred? Lord Armitage’s yacht, with
plenty of rifles and cartridges on board, is lying at Pentikosti,
ready to sail night or day.”
“And then where would be our moral effect on the minds of the Powers,
madame? You are like most ladies who indulge in revolutions--willing
to assent to any amount of bloodshed provided it takes place out of
your sight and hearing. A massacre is necessary, but you may well
salve your conscience by laying the blame on the Powers, who will be
moved by nothing else.”
“I think you have an appointment to meet Dr Terminoff now that the
games are over for the morning?” Eirene rose with marked displeasure,
which the Professor chose to disregard.
“I am honoured by your recollection, madame. You may rely on me to
keep you informed of any new points that may arise. May I also depend
on you for early information of any suspicious circumstances that
strike you? It is some underground action on the part of Pannonia that
I fear, for her silence, coupled with the benevolence of Scythia,
upsets all my calculations.”