A Modern Mercenary

by K. Prichard and Hesketh Vernon Hesketh Prichard

  CHAPTER XIX.

  IN DIPLOMATIC RELATIONS.

  It was late on the following morning before the Castle was awake. Italmost seemed as if the guests had waited for the appearance of thereassuring daylight before they ventured from their rooms. Four hugefires roared in the four great chimneys round the vast hall where thebreakfast was in progress.

  Sagan, in his weather-stained hunting suit and leggings, stood at theupper window overlooking the courtyard where the huntsmen and gauntdogs, the famous Sagan boarhounds, were already collected, inanticipation of the boar-hunt arranged to take place on that day. Thesky had cleared, but the tsa raged and howled after its perennial customabout the Castle.

  Madame de Sagan, entering later, cast a nervous glance at the grim redface and bull-neck, and then fell into a laughing conversation with thepeople round her, although her heart felt cold. She was far from being abrave woman, although she joined so gaily in the merry talk passing fromside to side; but her marvellous self-control was no more than theself-control common to women of her social standing. It is secondarystrength, not innate but acquired, of which the finest instance is amatter of history, and was witnessed within the walls of theConciergerie during the Reign of Terror, where men and womenunflinchingly carried on a hollow semblance of the joyous comedy of lifetill they mounted laughing into the tumbrils.

  Although nothing was known about the events of the previous night exceptby those who took part in them, a sense of excitement pervaded theparty. The strained relations existing between the Duke and his possiblesuccessor gave rise to an amount of vague expectation and conjecture.Anything might happen with such dangerous elements present in theatmosphere.

  Therefore when Rallywood, booted and spurred, passed up the hall, hisentrance attracted every eye. He walked straight up to the Count at hisdistant window and saluting, spoke for perhaps a minute in a low voice.

  At the first sentence Sagan swung round, his lowering face growingdarker as he listened. Then, advancing to the head of the table preparedfor the entertainment of the Duke, he called the attention of allpresent by striking it loudly with the riding-whip he carried.

  An instant hush settled upon the room. Sagan glared round with waitingeyes, and in the pause the tsa broke in a crash upon the Castle frontwith the pebble-shifting sound of a breaker.

  'I have to beg the favour of your attention for a moment,' the Count'swords rang out. 'Captain Rallywood reports that an officer of hisHighness's Guard is missing--Captain Colendorp. Inquiries have been madebut he cannot be found. It seems that he was last seen leaving thebilliard-room. If anyone in the hall can give us further information,will they be good enough to do so?'

  Valerie raised her eyes to Rallywood, who stood behind the Count. As hemet them the young man's stern face softened suddenly.

  M. Blivinski, who happened to be sitting beside her, caught the exchangeof looks, and for a moment was puzzled. Selpdorf's daughter? Well, well,the English are a wonderful people, he said to himself. Neither subtlenor gifted, but lucky. Lucky enough to give the devil odds and beat him!Here was Selpdorf laying his plans deeply and with consummate skill,while this pretty clever daughter of his was ready to give him awaybecause a heavy dragoon of the favoured race smiled at her across abreakfast table. Pah! The ways of Providence are inscrutable; it remainsfor mortal men to do what they may to turn them into more convenientchannels.

  Then there was Counsellor, whose political importance could not bedenied. Yet he did the bluff thing bluffly and said the obvious thingobviously, and blundered on from one great city to another, butblundered triumphantly! Still there were compensations. The good Godhad given the Russian craft and a silent tongue, and a facility fortelling a lie seasonably.

  Elmur was by a fraction of a second too late to see what the Russian hadseen. Valerie was very white, but she was talking indifferently to M.Blivinski with her eyes fixed upon her plate. It was some time beforeshe seemed to grow conscious of Elmur's gaze; a slight fleck of colourshowed and paled in her cheeks, and then at length her long lashesfluttered up and the German perceived in the darkness of her eyes atrace of unshed tears.

  'Mademoiselle, you are tired,' he said with solicitude.

  'Yes,' she answered smiling. 'But we are going back to Revonde in a dayor two, and then I will wipe out the remembrance of everything that hashappened at Sagan from my mind forever!'

  Elmur was about to reply when Sagan spoke again.

  'No one appears to have heard or seen anything of Captain Colendorp. Wewill have the dogs out, Captain Rallywood. Pray tell his Highness thatin the course of an hour or two we hope to be able to tell him where ourman has got to. His absence is doubtless due to some trifling cause.'

  As Rallywood retired Sagan cast a comprehensive glance around thetables, and noted Counsellor's absence with a sinister satisfaction.

  All the morning he had been speculating upon the course Counsellorwould pursue after the rencontre of the previous night. Most likelydisappear from the Castle. He would not dare to brazen it out. Saganargued that the British envoy could not be very sure of his positionyet. What had he proposed to the Duke? And how had the Duke answeredhim? What was to be the result of the visit, or would there be any?Selpdorf held the Duke's confidence. He must checkmate England andopenly throw his influence into the German scale. No half courses couldany longer avail in Maasau.

  Here his reflections were interrupted, for Counsellor's big burly figurewas bending over Madame de Sagan's chair, before he accepted the seat ather side with the assured manner of a favored guest.

  Even the Russian attache blinked. Ah, these islanders! What next?

  As an immediate result Count Sagan was forced to accept the situationthrust upon him.

  'Have you slept well, Major?' he inquired sardonically. 'No bad dreams,eh?'

  'I dream seldom--and I make it a point in the morning to forget baddreams if I have had any,' replied Counsellor, with a good-humoredraising of his big eyebrows.

  'That is wise,' said Sagan, 'for dreams and schemes of the night rarelyhave solid foundations.'

  'So they say, my lord, but I do not trouble myself about these things.A man of my age is forced to consecrate his best energies to hisdigestion.'

  The Duke had decided upon returning to Revonde during the forenoon, butmost of the guests were to remain for the projected boar-hunt. Thehunting-party had already started when Blivinski and Counsellor droveout of the Castle courtyard on their way to the nearest railway station,which lay under the mountains some miles away.

  The _tsa_ had blown the snow into heavy drifts, leaving the roads andother exposed places bare and almost clean-swept. Near the station theypassed a squadron of the Guard sent by Wallenloup to escort the Dukeback to the capital.

  The pair in the carriage talked little, but when the jingling ofaccoutrements had died away Blivinski said in an emotionless tone:

  'You met with Count Sagan last night then--in your dreams?'

  'Yes, or Duke Gustave would have been over the border by this morning.'

  'Ah!'

  'And history goes to prove that reigning sovereigns are fragileware--they cannot be borrowed without danger.'

  'You allude to Bulgaria?' Blivinski asked promptly, with an air ofgenial interest.

  'Why, for the sake of argument, Alexander can stand as a case inpoint.'

  'If--I say if--we borrowed him, we also returned him.'

  Counsellor's reply was characteristic, and justified his companion'sopinion of his race.

  'Damaged--so they say.'

  Blivinski considered the dreary landscape.

  'We must not believe all we hear. In diplomatic relations, my friend,ethics cease to exist. Diplomacy is after all a simple game--evenelementary--a magnificent beggar-my-neighbour which we continue to playinto eternity.'

  'But there are rules ... even in beggar-my-neighbour,' said theCounsellor.

  Blivinski kicked the rug softly from his feet as the carriage drew up.

  'One rule, only one,'
he remarked; 'Britain loves to feign the Pharisee.We smile--we others--because we understand that her rule and ours isafter all the same--self-interest.'

  'If that be the case we come back to the law of the Beast,' said theCounsellor.

  The Russian put his gloved hand upon the open door and looked back overhis shoulder at Counsellor.

  'Always, my dear friend, by very many turnings--but always.'