Sophy of Kravonia/Part 3/Chapter 7
VII
THE BARONESS GOES TO COURT
THE troops of the garrison and their allies, the scum of the streets, thought that they had scored a great victory and inflicted deep humiliation on the unpopular martinet who ruled and harried them. They celebrated the event with noisy but harmless revels, and when Captain Hercules was seen about again (he submitted to a fortnight's confinement to barracks with feelings in which thankfulness, though not gratitude, predominated), he found his popularity with them greater than ever. But in the higher circles—the inner ring—of the party he served, his reception was not so cordial. Stenovics would not see him; Stafnitz saw him only to express a most uncompromising judgment on his conduct.
Yielding in appearance, in point of substance the Prince of Slavna had scored heavily. The big guns were ordered from Germany. The Prince had the money to pay for them, and they were to be consigned to him; these were the guarantees which he had asked from Stenovics. When the guns came—and he had agreed to make an extra payment for early delivery—his situation would be very different. With trusty men behind them, it would go hard with him if he were not master of Slavna, and he had already obtained the King's sanction to raise and train a force of artillery from among his own men in Volseni and its neighborhood. The men of Volseni were proof against Mistitch's bragging and the subtle indulgence by which Stafnitz held his power over the rank and file of the army. They were true to the Prince.
The idle King's family pride was touched; it was the one thing which could rouse him. At his son's express request—and at that only—he acquiesced in the release of Mistitch and his satellite Sterkoff; but he was determined to make his own attitude clear and to do what he could to restore the prestige of his family. The Prince said dryly that the prestige would profit best of all by the big guns; the King was minded to supplement their effect by something more ornate. He created a new Order, and made his son Grand Master of it. There was no harm in that, and Stenovics readily consented. He declared that something more must be done for the lady to whom his son owed his life; to be made Keeper of the Tapestries might be a convenient recompense, but was not honor enough. Stenovics declared that any mark of favor which His Majesty designed for Mademoiselle de Gruche might most properly be hers. Finally, the King instructed Stenovics to concentrate all his energies on the matrimonial negotiations. A splendid marriage would enhance and strengthen the prestige more than anything else. Stenovics promised zealous obedience, and withdrew full of thought. The Order was an easy matter, and honors for Sophy did no harm. The marriage was ground much more delicate. It touched the "big stake" which Colonel Stafnitz had so emphatically warned the General not to play on the bad hand dealt to him by Mistitch's blundering. But with the big guns in position, and the sturdy men of Volseni behind them would a good hand ever come?
There were but three in the inner secret of the scheme, but they were three of the longest heads in Kravonia. Countess Ellenburg was a pious woman and of exemplary demeanor; but (as Markart told Sophy) women are ambitious, and she had borne the King a son. Stenovics saw himself cast aside like an old glove if Prince Sergius came to the throne. Stafnitz was a born fisher in troubled waters, and threw a skilful net. Twice before in the country's history, intrigue had made revolution, and changed the order of succession in the House of Stefanovitch. The three waited on chance, but the chance was not yet. If the King were at enmity with his son, or if there were a demise of the Crown while the Prince was not on the spot to look after his interests, there might lie the opportunity. But now the King was all cordiality for his Heir Apparent, the Prince was on the spot; the guns and their Volsenian gunners threatened to be on the spot, too, ere long. It was not now the moment for the big stake.
King Alexis was delighted with his new Order, and the Grand Master's insignia were very handsome. In the centre of a five-pointed star St. Michael slew the Dragon–a symbol, perhaps, of Captain Mistitch! The broad ribbon was of virgin white; it would show up well against either the black sheepskin of the Volsenian tunic or the bright blue of the Prince's hussar uniform. There were, some day, to be five other Knights; with the Grand Master and the Sovereign himself the mystic number Seven would be reached–but it would never be exceeded; the Order would be most select. All this the King explained in a florid speech, gleeful with his new toy, while the serious folks listened with a respectful deference and a secret smile. "If he would make order, instead of Orders!" 'thought the Prince; and probably Colonel Stafnitz, in attendance as his Majesty's aide-de-camp, had thoughts not very different. Yet, even toys take on a significance when grown-up people play with them. Countess Ellenburg was not pleased that only one appointment should be made to the Order of St. Michael. Was it not time that the pretty boy Alexis wore a Star?
The King had not done yet; there was honor for the Prince's friends, too; men should know that service to the Royal House was meritorious in proportion to the illustrious position of that House. Zerkovitch stood forward and was made Chevalier of the Cross of Kravonia. The occasion cost Zerkovitch the price of a Court suit, but for Marie's sake he bore the outlay patiently. Then the King, having refreshed himself with a draught which his valet Lepage brought him, turned to his most pleasing task. The Keeper of the Tapestries was called from her place in the circle beside Marie Zerkovitch. Colonel Stafnitz had not noticed her standing there, but now he gave a little start; the figure seemed familiar. He turned his head round to Markart, who was just behind him. "Yes, that's her," Markart whispered in answer to the question in the Colonel's eyes. The eyes flew back to Sophy instantly. There, too, was set the gaze of Countess Ellenburg. For Sophy was in full beauty that day. She, too, loved toys; and her ancient hatred of the name to which she had been born must be remembered. Her eyes glowed, and the Red Star glowed on her cheek. All her air was triumphant as she courtesied to the King, and then stood, erect and proud, to hear his gracious words.
Gracious his words were for her deed, and gracious his smile for her comely beauty. He could at least look a king—no man denied him that—and speak in kingly phrases. "A service unmatched in courage, and immeasurable in importance to us and our Royal House, the preservation of our dearly loved son and only Heir." (Countess Ellenburg looked down her nose at that!) For such an act did he confer a patent of nobility on Sophy, and for greater honor gave her, as title the name of one of his own estates, together with a charge on its revenues equal to her new dignity.
He ended and sank back in his chair. Her Prince came forward and kissed her hand before them all. Countess Ellenburg bowed condescendingly. A decorous murmur of applause filled the hall as, with shining eyes, Sophia, Baroness Dobrava, courtesied again very low.
So, as Sophy Grouch had gone, went Sophie de Gruche!
"She's delighted poor child!" whispered Marie Zerkovitch; but only Julia Robins, in England far away, heard the full torrent of Sophy's simple, childlike exultation. Such a letter went to her that night! —but there was stuff in it besides the Baroness's paean.
Suddenly a childish voice rang out clear through the hall—a fearless, eager little voice.
"What's that you've got on your cheek?" asked young Alexis, with engaging candor; his finger pointed at Sophy's face.
So quaint an interruption to the stately formality of the scene struck people's sense of humor. Everybody laughed—even Countess Ellenburg. Sophy's own laugh rose rich and merry. Her ignorance or carelessness of etiquette betrayed itself; she darted at the pretty boy, caught him in her arms, and kissed him, answering: "That's my luck—my Red Star."
The boy touched the mark with his finger; a look of childish awe came into his blue eyes.
"Your luck!" he said, softly, and continued to look at the mysterious sign after Sophy had set him down again. The little scene was told all over Slavna before night—and men and women talked, according to their temper, of the nature and the meaning of the Red Star. If only the foolish think about such things, even the wise talk.
The King left his chair and mingled with his guests. His movement was the signal for a general relaxation of ceremony. The Prince came across the room and joined Sophy, who had returned to Marie Zerkovitch's side. He offered the Baroness his congratulations, but in somewhat constrained tones. His mind seemed to be on something else; once or twice he looked inquiringly at Marie, who in her turn showed signs of restlessness or distress. A silence followed on Sophy's expression of her acknowledgments. The Prince glanced again at Marie and made up his mind to speak.
"You've done me the kindness I asked?" he inquired of Marie.
Marie picked at the feathers of her fan in unhappy embarrassment. " No, sir, I haven't. I—I couldn't."
"But why not?" he asked in surprise.
"I—I couldn't," repeated Marie, flushing.
He looked at her gravely for a moment, then smiled. "Then I must plead my own cause," he said, and turned to Sophy. "Next week I'm leaving Slavna and going to my Castle of Praslok. It's near Volseni, you know, and I want to raise and train my gunners at Volseni. We must be ready for our guns when they come, mustn't we?"
His eyes met hers—eager glance exchanged for glance as eager. "Our guns!" whispered Sophy under her breath.
"Marie here and Zerkovitch have promised to come with me. He'll write what ought to be written, and she'll cook the dinners." He laughed.
"Oh, well, we do live very simply at Praslok. We shall be there three months at least. I asked Marie to persuade you to come with her and to stay as long as you could. But she's disappointed me. I must plead for myself."
The changing expressions of Sophy's eyes had marked every sentence of his speech, and Marie marked every expression of the eyes. They had grown forlorn and apprehensive when he spoke of leaving Slavna; a sudden joy leaped into them at his invitation to Praslok.
"You'll come for a little? The scenery is very fine, and the people interesting."
Sophy gave a low laugh. "Since the scenery is fine and the people interesting—yes, Monseigneur."
Their eyes met again, and he echoed back her laugh. Marie Zerkovitch drew in her breath sharply. With swift insight she saw—and foresaw. She remembered the presentiment, under whose influence she had begged Sophy not to come to Kravonia. But fate had weighted the scales heavily against her. The Baroness Dobrava was here.
The Prince turned to Marie with a puzzled look. Sophy was lost in glad anticipations. Marie met the Prince's look with a deprecating imploring glance. He frowned a little—not in anger, but in puzzle; what she foresaw he himself had not yet divined; he was feeling the joy without understanding it.
"At any rate you're not responsible now if we do freeze her to death with our mountain snows," he said in a jest which veiled friendly reproach.
"No, at least I'm not responsible," Marie answered.
There was a note in her voice now which commanded even Sophy's pre-engaged attention. She looked sharply at her friend—and perhaps she understood. But she did not yield to the suggestion. She drew herself up proudly. "I'm not afraid of what may happen to me at Praslok, Monseigneur," she said.
A simultaneous exclamation of many voices broke across their talk. At the other end of the room, men and women pressed into a circle round some point of interest which could not be seen by Sophy and her companions. A loud voice rang out in authoritative tones: "Stand back! Stand back—and open all the windows!"
"That's Natcheff's voice," said the Prince. Natcheff was the leading physician of Slavna. "Somebody's fainted, I suppose. Well, the place is stuffy enough!"
Markart emerged from the circle, which had widened out in obedience to the physician's orders. As he hurried past the Prince, he said: "The King has fainted, sir. I'm going to fetch Lepage." Two or three other men ran and opened the windows.
"The King fainted! I never knew him do that before."
He hastened to where his father lay, the subject of Natcheff's ministrations. Sophy and Marie followed in his wake through the opening which the onlookers made for him. The King showed signs of recovering, but Natcheff's face was grave beyond even the requirements of his profession or of his patient's rank. The next moment Lepage came up, This man, the King's body-servant, was a small, plump person, who had generally a weary, impassive, uninterested manner. He looked rather uninterested even now, but his walk was very quick, and he was soon aiding Natcheff with deft and nimble fingers.
"This is strange, Lepage," said Natcheff.
Lepage did not look up from his task.
"Has it ever happened before?"
Then Lepage did look up. He appeared to consider and to hesitate. He glanced once at the King before he answered.
"It's the third attack in two months," he said, at last.
"You never told me!" The words shot sharp from Natch eff's lips.
"That was by His Majesty's peremptory orders. He'll be angry that I've told you now."
"Clear the room!" ordered Natcheff, shortly.
Slavna had plenty to talk about that night. Besides the Baroness Dobrava's Red Star, there was the fainting fit of King Alexis! The evening bulletin was entirely favorable; the King had quite recovered. But many had heard Lepage's confession and seen the look that it brought to Natcheff 's face.
Stenovics and Stafnitz rode back from the Palace to the city side by side. The General was silent, immersed in deep thought. Stafnitz smoked his cigarette with a light, rather mocking smile. At last, when they were almost opposite the terrace of the Hôtel de Paris, Stenovics spoke.
"It looks like the handwriting on the wall," he said.
"Quite so, General," Stafnitz agreed, cheerfully. "But at present there's no evidence to show to whom, besides the King himself, the message is addressed."
"Or what it says?"
"I think that's plain enough, General. I think it says that the time is short."
He watched his companion's face closely now. But Stenovics's mask was stolid and unmoved; he said nothing; he contented himself with a sullen grunt.
"Short for the King!" pursued Stafnitz, with a shake of his head. "Short for the Prince, perhaps! And certainly, General, uncomfortably short for us!"
Stenovics grunted again, and then rode on some while in silence. At last, just as he was about to part from his companion, he made one observation:
"Fortunately Natch eff is a friend of mine; we shall get the best possible information."
"That might become of importance, no doubt, General," said Stafnitz, smiling still.