The Man from Brodney's

by George Barr McCutcheon

  CHAPTER III

  INTRODUCING HOLLINGSWORTH CHASE

  While all this was being threshed out by the persons most vitallyinterested in the affairs of Taswell Skaggs and John Wyckholme, eventsof a most unusual character were happening to one who not only had nointerest in the aforesaid heritage, but no knowledge whatever of itsexistence. The excitement attending the Skaggs-Wyckholme revelations hadnot yet spread to the Grand Duchy of Rapp-Thorberg, apparently lost asit was in the cluster of small units which went to make up a certainempire: one of the world powers. The Grand Duke Michael disdained theworld at large; he had but little in common with anything that movedbeyond the confines of his narrow domain. His court was sleepy,lackadaisical, unemotional, impregnable to the taunts of progression;his people were thrifty, stolid and absolutely stationary in theirloyalty to the ancient traditions of the duchy; his army was a merematter of taxation and not a thing of pomp or necessity. Four times ayear he inspected the troops, and just as many times in the year werethe troops obliged to devote themselves to rigorous display. The rest ofthe time was spent in social intrigue and whistling for the war-cloudsthat never came.

  The precise location of the Grand Duchy in the map of the world haslittle or nothing to do with this narrative; indeed, were it not for thefact that the Grand Duke possessed a charming and most desirabledaughter, the Thorberg dynasty would not be mentioned at all. For thatmatter, it is brought to light briefly for the sole purpose ofidentifying the young lady in question, and the still more urgent desireto connect her past with her future--for which we have, perhapsintemperately, an especial consideration. It is only necessary,therefore, for us to step into and out of the Grand Duchy without theprocrastination usual in a sojourner, stopping long enough only to seehow tiresome it would be to stay, and to wonder why any one remained whocould get away. Not that the Grand Duchy was an utterly undesirableplace, but that too much time already had been wasted there by thepopulace itself.

  It has been said that events of a most unusual character were happening;any event that roused the people from their daily stolidity wassufficiently unusual to suggest the superlative. The Grand Duke's peaceof mind had been severely disturbed--so severely, in fact, that he wastransferring his troubles to the Emperor, who, in turn, felt obliged tocommunicate with the United States Ambassador, and who, in his turn, hadno other alternative than to take summary action in respect to theindiscretions of a fellow-countryman.

  In the beginning, it was not altogether the fault of the young man whohad come from America to serve his country. Whatever may have been theturmoil in the Grand Duke's palace at Thorberg, Chase's conscience waseven and serene. He had no excuses to offer--for that matter none wouldhave been entertained--and he was resigning his post with the confidencethat he had performed his obligations as an American gentleman should,even though the performance had created an extraordinary commotion.Chase was new to the Old World and its customs, especially thoserigorous ones which surrounded royalty and denied it the right toventure into the commonplace. The ambassador at the capital of theEmpire at first sought to excuse him on the ground of ignorance; but theGrand Duke insisted that even an American could not be such a fool asChase had been; so, it must have been a wilful offence that led up tothe controversy.

  Chase had been the representative of the American Government at Thorbergfor six months. He never fully understood why the government should havea representative there; but that was a matter quite entirely for thePresident to consider. The American flag floated above his doorway inthe Friedrich Strasse, but in all his six months of occupation not tenAmericans had crossed the threshold. As a matter of fact, he had seenfewer than twenty Americans in all that time. He was a vigorous, healthyyoung man, and it may well be presumed that the situation bored him.Small wonder, then, that he kept out of mischief for half a year.Diplomatic service is one thing and the lack of opportunity is quiteanother. Chase did his best to find occupation for his diplomacy, butwhat chance had he with nothing ahead of him but regular reports to thedepartment in which he could only announce that he was in good healthand that no one had "called."

  Chase belonged to the diplomatic class which owes its elevation to theinfluence of Congress--not to Congress as a body but to one of itsatoms. He was not a politician; no more was he an office seeker. He wasa real soldier of fortune, in search of affairs--in peace or in war, onland or at sea. Possessed of a small income, sufficiently adequate tosustain life if he managed to advance it to the purple age (but whollyincapable of supporting him as a thriftless diplomat), he was compelledto make the best of his talents, no matter to what test they were put.He left college at twenty-two, possessed of the praiseworthy design toearn his own way without recourse to the $4,500 income from a certaintrust fund. His plan also incorporated the hope to save every penny ofthat income for the possible "rainy day." He was now thirty; in each ofseveral New York banks he had something like $4,000 drawing three percent. interest while he picked his blithe way through the world on$2,500 a year, more or less, as chance ordained.

  "When I'm forty," Chase was wont to remark to envious spendthrifts whocouldn't understand his philosophy, "I'll have over a hundred thousandthere, and if I live to be ninety, just think what I'll have! And itwill be like finding the money, don't you see? Of course, I won't liveto be ninety. Moreover, I may get married and have to maintain a poorwife with rich relatives, which is a terrible strain, you know. You haveto live up to your wife's relatives, if you don't do anything else."

  He did not refer to the chance that he was quite sure to come in for alarge legacy at the death of his maternal grandfather, a millionaireranch owner in the Far West. Chase never counted on probabilities; hetook what came and was satisfied.

  After leaving college, he drifted pretty much over the world, taking potluck with fortune and clasping the hand of circumstance, to be led intothe highways and byways, through good times and ill times, in love andout, always coming safely into port with a smiling wind behind. Therehad been hard roads to travel as well as easy ones, but he nevercomplained; he swung on through life with the heart of a soldier and theconfidence of a Pagan. He loathed business and he abhorred trade.

  "That little old trust fund is making more money for me by lying idlethan I could accumulate in a century by hard work as a grocer or anundertaker," he was prone to philosophise when his uncles, who weremerchants, urged him to settle down and "do something." Not that therewere grocers or undertakers among them; it was his way of impressing hissense of freedom upon them.

  He was an orphan and bounden to no man. No one had the right to questionhis actions after his twenty-first anniversary. It was fortunate for himthat he was a level-headed as well as a wild-hearted chap, else he mighthave sunk to the perdition his worthy uncles prescribed for him. He wentin for law at Yale, and then practised restlessly, vaguely for two yearsin Baltimore, under the patronage of his father's oldest friend, alawyer of distinction.

  "If I fail at everything else, I'll go back to the practice of law," hesaid cheerfully. "Uncle Henry is mean enough to say that he hasforgotten more law than I ever knew, but he has none the better of me.'Gad, I am confident that I've forgotten more law, myself, than I everknew."

  Tiring of the law books and reports in the old judge's office, hesuddenly abandoned his calling and set forth to see the world. Almostbefore his friends knew that he had left he was heard of in Turkestan.In course of time he served as a war correspondent for one of the greatnewspapers, acted as agent for great hemp dealers in the Philippines,carried a rifle with the Boers in South Africa, hunted wild beasts inAsia and in Hottentot land, took snapshots in St. Petersburg, and almostgot to the North Pole with one of the expeditions. To do and be all ofthese he had to be a manly man. Not in a month's journey would you meeta truer thoroughbred, a more agreeable chap, a more polished vagabond,than Hollingsworth Chase, first lieutenant in Dame Fortune's army. Tall,good looking, rawboned, cheerful, gallant, he was the true comrade ofthose merry, reckless volunteers from all lands who f
ind commissions inFortune's army and serve her faithfully. He had shared pot luck in oddparts of the world with English lords, German barons and Frenchcounts--all serving under the common flag. His heart had withstood theimportunate batterings of many a love siege; the wounds had beenpleasant ones and the recovery quick. He left no dead behind him.

  He was nearly thirty when the diplomatic service began to appeal to himas a pleasing variation from the rigorous occupations he had followedheretofore. A British lordling put it into his head, away out in Delhi.It took root, and he hurried home to attend to its growth. One of hisuncles was a congressman and another was in some way connected withrailroads. He first sought the influence of the latter and then therecommendation of the former. In less than six weeks after his arrivalin Washington he was off for the city of Thorberg in the Grand Duchy ofRapp-Thorberg, carrying with him an appointment as consul and suppliedwith the proper stamps and seal of office. His uncle compassionatelyinformed him beforehand that his service in Thorberg would be brief andcertainly would lead up to something much better.

  At the end of five months he was devoutly, even pathetically, hopingthat his uncle was no false prophet. He loathed Thorberg; he hated theinhabitants; he smarted under the sting of royal disdain; he had no realfriends, no boon companions and he was obliged to be good! What wonder,then, that the bored, suffering, vivacious Mr. Chase seized the firstopportunity to leap headforemost into the very thick of a most appallingindiscretion!

  When he first arrived in Thorberg to assume his sluggish duties he wasnot aware of the fact that the Grand Duke had an unmarried daughter, thePrincess Genevra. Nor, upon learning that the young lady existed, was heparticularly impressed; the royal princesses he had been privileged tolook upon were not remarkable for their personal attractiveness: heforthwith established Genevra in what he considered to be her propersphere.

  She was visiting in St. Petersburg or Berlin or some other place--hegave it no thought at the time--when he reached his post of duty, and itwas toward the end of his fifth month before she returned to herfather's palace in Thorberg. He awoke to the importance of the occasion,and took some slight interest in the return of the royal younglady--even going so far as to follow the crowd to the railway station onthe sunny June afternoon. His companions were two young fellows from theEnglish bank and a rather agreeable attache of the French Government.

  He saw the Princess for the first time that afternoon, and he was bowledover, to use the expression of his English friends with whom he dinedthat night. She was the first woman that he had ever looked upon that hecould describe, for she was the only one who had impressed him to thatextent. This is how he pictured her at the American legation in Paris afew weeks later:

  "Ever see her? Well, you've something to live for, gentlemen. I've seenher but three times and I don't seem able to shake off the spell. Hersisters, you know--the married ones--are nothing to look at, and theGrand Duke isn't a beauty by any means. How the deuce she happens toproduce such a contrast I can't, for the life of me, understand. Naturedoes some marvellous things, by George, and she certainly spread herselfon the Princess Genevra. You've never seen such hair. 'Gad, it's as nearlike the kind that Henner painted as anything human could be, exceptthat it's more like old gold, if you can understand what I mean by that.Not bronze, mind you, nor the raw red, but--oh, well, I'm not anovelist, so I can't half-way describe it. She's rather tall--not tootall, mind you--five feet five, I'd say--whatever that is in the metricsystem. Slender and well dressed--oh, that's the strangest thing of all!Well dressed! Think of a princess being well dressed! I can see that youdon't believe me, but I'll stake my word it's true. Of course, I've seenbut three of her gowns and--but that's neither here nor there. I'd sayshe's twenty-two or twenty-three years of age--not a minute older. Ithink her eyes are a very dark grey, almost blue. Her skin is likea--a--oh, let me see, what is there that's as pure and soft as her skin?Something warm, and pink, and white, d'ye see? Well, never mind. And hersmile! And her frown! You know, I've seen both of 'em, and one's asattractive as the other. She's a real princess, gentlemen, and theprettiest woman I've ever laid my eyes upon. And to think of her as thewife of that blithering little ass--that nincompoop of a Karl Brabetz!She loathes him, I'm sure--I _know_ she does. And she's _got_ to marryhim! That's what she gets for being a Grand Duke's daughter. Brabetz isthe heir apparent to some duchy or other over there and is supposed tobe the catch of the season. You've heard of him. He was in Paris thisseason and cut quite a figure--a prince with real money in his purse,you know. I wonder why it is that our American girls can't marry theprinces who have money instead of those who have none. Not that I wishany of our girls such bad luck as Brabetz! I'll stake my head he'llnever forget me!" Chase concluded with a sharp, reflective laugh inwhich his hearers joined, for the escapade which inspired it was beingslyly discussed in every embassy in Europe by this time, but no oneseemed especially loth to shake Chase's hand on account of it.

  But to return: the advent of the Princess put fresh life into theslowgoing city and court circles. Charming people, whom Chase had neverseen before, seemed to spring into existence suddenly; the streets tookon a new air; the bands played with a keener zest and the army prinkeditself into a most amazingly presentable shape. Officers with nobleblood in their veins stepped out of the obscurity of months; swordsclanked merrily instead of dragging slovenly at the heels of theirowners; uniforms glistened with a new ambition, and the whole atmosphereof Thorberg underwent a change so startling that Chase could hardlybelieve his senses. He lifted up his chin, threw out his chest, banishedthe look of discontent from his face and announced to himself thatThorberg was not such a bad place after all.

  For days he swung blithely through the streets, the hang-dog look gonefrom his eyes, always hoping for another glimpse of the fair sorceresswho had worked the great transformation. He even went so far as to readthe court society news in the local papers, and grew to envy the menwhose names were mentioned in the same column with that of the fairGenevra. It was two weeks before he saw her the second time; he was moreenchanted by her face than before, especially as he came to realise theastonishing fact that she was kind enough to glance in his directionfrom time to time.

  It was during the weekly concert in the Kursaal, late one night. Shecame in with a party, among whom he recognised several of the leadingpersonages at court.

  Once a week the regular concert gave way to a function in which theroyal orchestra was featured. On such occasions the attendance wasextremely fashionable, the Duke and his court usually being present. Itwas not until this time, however, that Chase felt that he could sitthrough a concert without being bored to extinction. He loved music, butnot the kind that the royal orchestra rendered; Wagner, Chopin, Mozartwere all the same to him--he hated them fervently and he was _not_ yetgiven to stratagems and spoils. He sat at a table with the Frenchattache just below the box occupied by the Princess and her party. Inspite of the fact that he was a gentleman, born and bred, he could notconquer countless impulses to look at the flower-face of the royalauditor. They were surreptitious and sidelong peeps, it is true, butthey served him well. He caught her gaze bent upon him more than once,and he detected an interest in her look that pleased his vanityexceeding great.

  Gradually the programme led up to the feature of the evening--therendition of a great work under the direction of a famous leader, aspecial guest of the music-loving Duke.

  Chase arose and cheered with the assemblage when the distinguisheddirector made his appearance. Then he proceeded to forget the man andhis genius--in fact everything save the rapt listener above him. She wasleaning forward on the rail of the box, her chin in her hand, her eyeslooking steadily ahead, enthralled by the music. Suddenly she turned andlooked squarely into his eyes, as if impelled by the magnetism theyunconsciously employed. A little flush mounted to her brow as shequickly resumed her former attitude. Chase cursed himself for abrainless lout.

  The number came to an end and the crowd arose to cheer the bowing,smiling
director. Chase cheered and shouted "bravo," too, because _she_was applauding as eagerly as the others. She called the flushed, bowingdirector to her box, and publicly thanked him for the pleasure he hadgiven. Chase saw him kiss her hand as he murmured his gratitude. For thefirst time in his life he coveted the occupation of an orchestra leader.

  The director was a frail, rather good-looking young man, with piercingblack eyes that seemed too bold in their scrutiny of the young lady'sface. Chase began to hate him; he was unreasonably thankful when hepassed on to the box in which the Duke sat.

  The third and last time he saw the Princess Genevra before his sudden,spectacular departure from the Grand Duchy, was at the Duke's receptionto the nobility of Rapp-Thorberg and to the representatives of suchnations of the world as felt the necessity of having a man there in anofficial capacity.