by Mór Jókai
CHAPTER VIII
AN ORGY OVER A VOLCANO
It needed a well-seasoned head to keep his wits about him when, onentering Zeneida's palace, a man found himself suddenly plunged into thefairy-like pell-mell, such as is usually only to be seen at a maskedball at the opera.
Hundreds of guests, invited and uninvited, thronged the brilliantlylighted reception-rooms. Zeneida to-night had been acting in the lastscene of _Semiramide_, and it suited her mood to carry on the part ofthe all-conquering queen off the stage; to see her admirers, herslaves, and those she fooled, at her feet.
The whole _corps de ballet_ were here assembled in the dresses in whichthey had appeared on the stage; the chorus and singers wearing theirrich costumes of Persian and Median nobles. The male aristocracy of St.Petersburg, young and old, were there assembled. As the hostess appearedin the ballroom, leaning on Chevalier Galban's arm, the band, concealedbehind the balcony of the gallery, struck up a welcoming overture; theguests cheered, and those nearest pressed round to kiss her hands.
However, things were not long destined to proceed so smoothly.
In the middle of the ballroom was standing a police-agent in fulluniform, his helmet on his head. Going forward to meet the hostess andher cavalier, and bowing stiffly, he made a hissing sound which wassupposed to stand for _Sudar_ and _Sudarinja_ ("Monsieur" and "Madame").
"His Excellency the President of Police bids you take notice that at thestroke of twelve to-night the great fast has begun, and all dancing,music, and entertainments of every description are in consequenceprohibited. Such being the case, monsieur and madame's guests are toreturn forthwith to their own houses, and monsieur and madame, the hostand hostess, to retire to their apartments. Monsieur and madame--"
Here Zeneida burst into a merry laugh; while Galban inwardly cursed theMinister of Police, who by his clumsy zeal was in danger of spoiling theexcellent plan he and Araktseieff had together made out.
Zeneida drawing three golden-shaped arrows from her hair, handed them tothe sergeant of police.
"Go back to your chief and show him these symbols. From them he willrecognize that Assyria's queen challenges the Prince of Sarmatia tocombat."
The words were over the head of the agent of police, but he took thegolden arrows.
"Then I shall be compelled to take your names. Yours, sir, is--"
"Caracalla," replied Galban, readily, "and this lady is my wife."
The police-agent duly entered in his book, "Herr Caracallus and MadameCaracalla"; then turned to a gentleman who had just entered, PrinceGhedimin. "And what is your name?"
"Rainbow. Here is my card."
It may be mentioned that hundred-ruble notes are called "rainbows" onaccount of their gay coloring. The name pleased the agent of police sowell that he evinced no further curiosity. With obsequious bow he wishedthe company a pleasant evening, drank a bottle of champagne on his wayout, pinched the cheek of a pretty ballet-girl, then hastened back tomake his truthful report to the President of Police that all was quietand dark at Palace Ilmarinen as in a church, and not a soul waking savethe house porter.
But this was not the sole interruption that night. Scarce had the agentof police taken his departure before the organist and chaplain of theProtestant church appeared. The chaplain began a honeyed speech,probably to the effect that he hoped the lady of the house, as a goodProtestant, would not give cause of offence to the faithful of the Statereligion by desecrating the first night of so holy a fast byentertaining so motley a crew of the worshippers of Baal.
But Zeneida did not suffer him to proceed.
"Go back and tell your superintendent, my dear sir," said Zeneida, "thatI am holding the rehearsal of a grand concert, which I intended to giveduring Lent in aid of the building of the Protestant church-tower."
Chaplain and organist were fully pacified. Going back they announcedthat the zealous and religious lady had begun the great fast with a goodwork for the benefit of the Church.
And now, at length, the doors could be shut; now there would be nofurther interruptions from without, and those present would not beleaving until to-morrow night had set in.
Chevalier Galban judged it advisable to resign the lady of the house toPrince Ghedimin.
"Allow me to introduce myself, Prince--Chevalier Galban."
"A name world-renowned. And one all-powerful among the ladies."
"I may perhaps claim in that respect to have kept up my reputationto-day. See, Prince, the bracelet round this bouquet. Do you notrecognize it? And this?" And he drew forth from his waistcoat-pocket thesilver whistle which had formed the handle of Princess Ghedimin'sriding-whip.
Ivan recognized his own crest upon it.
"These are the two conflicting _souvenirs_ of this morning's stag-huntand to-night's triumph."
"And it is you who have formed the connecting link."
Prince Ghedimin was on the point of shaking hands with the Chevalier forhaving made conquest of his wife, and thus enabling his beloved to goscot-free; but in this he was prevented by the young man we have heardcalled Pushkin, who, pressing in between the Prince and Galban,intercepted the intended hand-shake by a demonstrative embrace.
"Zdravtvujtje Galban! I am Pushkin!"
"Ah, Pushkin! Bravo! I have heard of you. You are a Russian edition of aperfected Paris _bon vivant_."
"Proud of the title!" None the less, he was anything but proud of it.You cannot offer a poet a worse insult than to credit him with a qualitywhich has no relation to Parnassus. Still, Galban was no censor; hecould not know how many of the bard's great works were lying low,massacred under the murderous red pencil. "Proud, my dear fellow, to actRinaldo to the St. Petersburg dare-devils, and in that capacity yourmodest Epigon. Permit me, without delay, to make you known to some ofthe prettiest girls of our party to-night."
So saying, he passed his arm under that of Galban, and in rollickingfashion led him into the thick of the throng.
The Chevalier was content. It was his immediate task to make as manyacquaintances as possible among the malcontents here assembled. To thisend the guidance of so open-hearted and loquacious a comrade was highlyacceptable. All the same, he soon had reason to find he had been alittle mistaken in him.
The first individual with whom Pushkin made Chevalier Galban acquaintedwas the English ambassador, Mr. Black.
Mr. Black had only one leg; his other was an artificial one, which,however, in no wise prevented his taking part in every country dance tothe very end of the programme. Moreover, all his movements were asautomatic as if head and arms were on springs, and as if he took himselfto pieces every night before going to bed.
"Mr. Black, the best fellow in the world! He neither understandsFrench, German, Greek, nor Russian. In fact, he only speaks English; andthat we none of us know, so he is dumb to us. All the same, he is jollyas a sand-boy. A year or two ago he had one man about him with whom hecould converse, his secretary. Unfortunately he took the poor devil withhim one day in December, when it was atrociously cold, to the AlexanderNevski church-yard, to see the fine show of tombstones. A graniteobelisk took the secretary's fancy uncommonly. On the way home my finefellow partook somewhat too plentifully of brandy, to keep the cold out,and froze to death. Mr. Black carted him off to the stone-mason, thenand there, and bought for him an obelisk like the one he had admired somuch."
The ambassador, guessing that his praises were being sung, duly put inmotion that part of his mechanism necessary for bringing a smile to hisface; then shook the Chevalier's hand violently, and without more adotook possession of Galban's other arm. And now both men towed theirvictim along, until they came face to face with a third man, whomPushkin introduced to the Chevalier with the words--
"Sergius Sumikoff Alexievitsch."
"Ah, the renowned conjuror! I have heard of your fame far and wide."
The very word "conjuring," and, above all, the notion of befoolingothers for the general amusement, had just then become the fashion, inParis especially--of course
to be readily imitated in St. Petersburg.
"But you have not heard his latest," broke in Pushkin, "the story aboutthe negro? I must tell it you; it is such a joke. Sumikoff painted hisface jet black, and gave himself out to be Prince Milinkoff's blackslave. We were all in the fun, save Count Petroniefsky; he was to befooled. Mungo played the piano and guitar, spoke Greek, Latin, declaimedSchiller, uncommonly rare acquirements in a negro slave. Moreover, hehad all kinds of interesting details to tell, among others, how, whenking in his native land, he had had his prime-minister, convicted oftheft, crushed to death in a mortar. Petroniefsky, awfully taken withthe fellow, goes to Milinkoff, and offers to purchase him. Milinkoff atfirst refuses; he is his favorite slave, can't part with him, etc. Atlength they settle the matter for six thousand rubles. On receiving thepurchase-money Milinkoff gives his friend a hint to keep a sharp eye onthe fellow, as he is deucedly fond of giving his owner the slip. Thecount answers, he'll see to that. Of course, the very first nightSumikoff washes off his Chinese black, and quietly takes himself off,without any concealment, through the open palace gates. We ordered ajolly supper for the six thousand rubles, and Petroniefsky has no ideato this day that it was he who paid the piper. He still daily routs upthe unlucky police officials to bring him back his negro."
Every one laughed, Galban, with the others, all the time thinking, "Doesmy new friend really think with such worn-out anecdotes to keep me inpawn, and prevent my seeing that for which I came?"
And he did see it. He was an adept in the art of recognizing people fromdescription, and amidst the noisiest surroundings to find that of whichhe was in search.
First among the crowded rooms, he made out the man described to him asKrizsanowski, and soon after the man called Pestel. He seemed to be alleyes for the conjuror's clever doings, the while he was closely watchingthe two men to see if they accosted each other. Would they approachPrince Ghedimin and Zeneida? Neither of these things took place. Didthey accidentally come across each other, they simply passed each otherby without even a look; on the whole, they seemed rather to avoidZeneida. In between the crowd of merry, noisy dancers he perceived manya striking face, yet none of them seemed to have anything in common onewith another. Now Pushkin made a proposition.
"Why should not we four have a game of _ombre_?"
Chevalier Galban saw through it. Not a bad dodge to pin him to acard-table in some dark corner for the remainder of the night.
"Thanks. I only play hazard."
"Humph! Strictly forbidden here."
"As is ball-giving in Lent," returned Galban, laughing.
Now a fresh procession riveted the general attention. "The gypsies!"went from mouth to mouth.
In Russia, as in Hungary, the gypsy is the minstrel of national song. Itis curious that in Hungary instrumental music is the gypsies' art, whilein Russia it is singing. Troops of them go from town to town as choralsocieties, and never fail at entertainments given at the houses of thegreat.
The group of some four-and-twenty men and women, clad in theirpicturesque Oriental costume, formed themselves into a circle in theballroom, and began their songs of wood and valley, while one of them, agirl, represented in her dance the subject of their song.
"By Jove! come and look at our black pearl," said Pushkin, by the aid ofhis friend drawing Galban into the circle. "Bravo, Diabolka! Showyourself worthy of your name. Look how supple she is! she is a verydevil! Every one of her gestures is enticement. See how her eyessparkle! All the fires of hell are burning in them! Enviable they who dopenance there. And when, with downcast eyes, she casts you a melancholyglance from beneath those long silken lashes, you think she must be onthe verge of swooning. But, beware, the tiger can bite."
The wild gypsy girl, suddenly starting from her lifeless statuesqueposture, here sprang upon Chevalier Galban, and threw her arms aroundhim.
"By Jove! the comedy is well planned," thought Chevalier Galban tohimself. "Here am I fast bound in the arms of this gypsy. My friends,the conspirators, know how to set about things."
"Bravo, Diabolka!" applauded Pushkin; and in a trice the three gentlemenhad disappeared from Galban's side; it was unnecessary to watch himlonger. Once Diabolka's net was spun about him, he was caught andmeshed.
Chevalier Galban saw through this also. Yet he was too much a man of theworld, and appreciated pretty women too keenly, to turn from the offeredcup. Accepting the situation, he led her to the buffet, to the ballroom,to the palm-grove, everywhere, in fact, as faithful cavalier, keepingthe two men, however, always in sight. He began to observe that theywhom he thus watched were also watching him, and to feel convinced thatthey would not leave the noisy, overflowing reception-rooms as long asthey saw him there. He planned a stratagem.
As he made the tour of the rooms for the second time with Diabolka hepromised to marry her, and in sign of the betrothal drew off a ring andplaced it on her finger. The girl forgot to ask him his name; but shewell knew the name of the stone that flashed in the ring. It was adiamond.
"And when you are my husband will you come with me to our encampmentwhere we mend pots and kettles, and feast on the sheep we have stolen?"
"Not so. When you are my wife you shall come with me into my castle.There you shall dress yourself in new dresses five times a day, and eatoff silver dishes as if every day were our wedding-day."
"I will tell your fortune with cards; then we will see which is the trueprophecy. Come! Let us hide away in some corner, where no one can seeus."
Diabolka, it appeared, was perfectly at home. She knew exactly where topress the spring in the wainscot which should open a secret door. Withinthis door was a tempting hiding-place, roomy enough for a cooing pair.The door closed after them. In the crowded rooms one couple was notmissed. In the middle of the little retreat was a round table. On givingthis table a twist it sank, to come up again spread with a temptingrefection, among which champagne, cooled in ice, was not wanting.
Chevalier Galban smiled. So this was the idea. And to make it moresecure they had shut the cat in with the mouse. Poor fools! They thinkto catch a serpent in a mouse-trap! Meanwhile, why not amuse himself?The enemy must be allowed time to get into battle-array. They believehim disposed of already. And now, safe from his sharp eyes, theinitiated will be betaking themselves to the place of meeting. But whereis this place of meeting? In what hidden portion of this mysteriousbuilding? These and like thoughts rush through his brain. Tschirr! asound of shattered glass falling in a thousand pieces on the table.
"When I am by your side, I forbid you to think of anything else. Whenyou can look into my eyes, do not stare out into the wide world. Or areyou afraid of me? Don't you drink?"
Galban soon proved to her that he was not afraid of her, and that he diddrink. Seizing the bottle, he drank. He may have had his reasons forthus drinking direct out of the bottle. No sleeping potion can be mixedwith a bottle of champagne, for, once opened, it forces its way out;while a drug can be easily conveyed into a glass.
Chevalier Galban's suspicion that they might seek to disarm him by meansof a narcotic is the more easily explained in that he himself wascarrying a similar medium in his waistcoat-pocket, with the idea ofridding himself of any inconvenient obstacle did it come in his way.
But one cannot listen to two things at a time, the beating of one'sheart and the tick of the clock. Galban knew this from experience. Hemust rid himself betimes of the dark beauty. They were drinking by turnsfrom the bottle. One such bottle must do the work for her. Four-fifthsof a champagne bottle standing in ice is frozen; the sleeping powdershaken into it can only mix with that which remains fluid. The first whodrinks receives the opiate; the next one, drinking the wine as it melts,takes no harm.
Diabolka's wild abandonment suddenly seemed to give place to a certainexhaustion; her arms sank wearily to her side; she began to yawn; herhead fell back. For an instant she pulled herself together as thoughshaking off the inertia. She must not sleep now when some great dangermight be threatening without. She reached out her
hand for thewater-jug. But the potion had been too powerful. Going a step or two,she staggered; in the act of pressing her hand to her head she fellinto a deep sleep. "Chain up the bear," she stammered. She was alreadydreaming of the forest. Then she fell full length on to the ground.
Galban, lifting her on to the couch, pressed the spring. The secret dooropened to his touch, and he found himself once more in the palm-grove.This was an amphitheatre, some six fathoms high, massed with the rarestpalms from India and Senegal, which in an atmosphere of artificial heatand sunshine were being coaxed into flourishing in a land where winterreigns nine months in the year.
Hidden behind a giant cactus, Chevalier Galban peered into the adjacentapartment, intent upon discovering whether the men he had previouslymarked were taking part in the Eleusinian mysteries. None were visible.It was in truth a _masked_ ball; the ball was the mask, and they whowore the mask were no longer present.
Where were they then?
All had disappeared, even Pushkin, the head and front of the revels.
He resolved to go in search of them. It was a difficult and dangerousundertaking. It meant beginning a search in a vast place, utterlystrange to him, to which he had no clew; it meant avoiding any he mightmeet, deceiving those who noticed him by simulated intoxication--adrunken man, not knowing whither he was going; it meant the risk ofbeing kicked out from intrusive disturbance of flirting couples. Andeven if at length he find the spot whither the conspirators had retired,it is only too probable that some watch would be kept to warn them ofthe approach of a suspected person. This watchman he must murder, hispistol at his breast; for where a guard is necessary, a conspiracylurks behind the portal. Then to force his way in. If the doors beclosed, suspicion is well founded. Then is the palace doomed; if needbe, razed to the last stone. If the doors stand open, then to enter withthe words, "In the name of the Czar, you are my prisoners!" Possiblethat they may overpower him, but far more likely that they will not. Adetected conspiracy is demoralizing; to say, "If I do not return toAraktseieff by to-morrow morning, all who are here to-night will fallinto the hands of justice," will be to lame them and bring them to hisfeet. Moreover, it is his profession. One man dies in one way, one inanother. The soldier knows the enemy will fire upon him, yet he goesforward; the sailor knows the sea is treacherous, yet he trusts himselfto it. One man bows his head to the executioner's axe, another bares hisbreast to the dagger. In both it is heroism.
And suppose he should find the missing guests round the board of greencloth, instead of round "the green book," staking their money at theprohibited roulette-table? _Eh bien!_ then he would join them, and saynothing to Araktseieff. It would not be a gentleman-like thing to tellupon them.
In his search he had, in a measure, an Ariadne clew, like that strewnsand which, according to the fable, served to guide the lost child outof the wood.
Zeneida had returned from the opera in her costume as Semiramide, herwealth of reddish golden hair interwoven with real pearls. WhenChevalier Galban, on her triumphal return to the palace, had assistedthe _diva_ to remove the bashlik from her head, he had, unseen andpurposely, severed one of the strings of pearls in her hair. For a timethe thick masses of hair might hold them together, but it was unlikelythat in moving hither and thither one should not occasionally fall tothe ground.
He had already picked up one in the palm-grove; she had, therefore,passed through there. The second he found in a corridor; a thirdbetrayed to him the threshold of the apartments into which she haddisappeared. Where she is, there must the others be.