Joan of the Sword Hand
Page 34
CHAPTER XXXIII
A WEDDING WITHOUT A BRIDEGROOM
It was very quiet in the river parlour of the Summer Palace. A shadedlamp burned in its niche over the desk of Prince Conrad. Another swungfrom the ceiling and filled the whole room with dim, rich light. Thewindow was a little open, and the Alla murmured beneath with a soothingsound, like a mother hushing a child to sleep. There was no one in thegreat chamber save the youth whose masquerading was now well nigh over.The Sparhawk listened intently. Footsteps were approaching. Quick asthought he threw himself upon a couch, and drew about him a light cloakor woollen cloth lined with silk. The footsteps stopped at his door. Ahand knocked lightly. The Sparhawk did not answer. There was a longpause, and then footsteps retreated as they had come. The Sparhawkremained motionless. Again the Alla, outside in the mild autumnalgloaming, said, "Hush!"
Tired with anxiety and the strain of the day, the youth passed frommusing to real sleep and the stream of unconsciousness, with a longsoothing swirl like that of the green water outside among the piles ofthe Summer Palace, bore him away. He took longer breaths, sighing in hisslumbers like a happy tired child.
Again there came footsteps, quicker and lighter this time; then thecrisp rustle of silken skirts, a warm breath of scented air, and thedoor was closed again. No knocking this time. It was some one whoentered as of right.
Then the Princess Margaret, with clasped hands and parted lips, stoodstill and watched the slumber of the man she loved. Though she knew itnot, it was one of the crucial moments in the chronicle of love. If awoman's heart melts from tolerant friendship to a kind of motherhood atthe sight of a man asleep; if something draws tight about her heart likethe strings of an old-fashioned purse; if there is a pulse beating whereno pulse should be, a pleasurable lump in the throat, then it iscome--the not-to-be-denied, the long-expected, the inevitable. It is asimple test, and one not always to be applied (as it were) without adoctor's prescription; but, when fairly tried, it is infallible. If awoman is happier listening to a man's quiet breathing than she has everbeen hearkening to any other's flattery, it is no longer an affair--itis a passion.
The Princess Margaret sat down by the couch of Maurice von Lynar, and,after this manner of which I have told, her heart was moved within her.As she bent a little over the youth and looked into his sleeping face,the likeness to Joan the Duchess came out more strongly than ever,emerging almost startlingly, as a race stamp stands out on the featuresof the dead. She bent her head still nearer the slightly parted lips.Then she drew back.
"No," she murmured, smiling at her intent, "I will not--at least, notnow. I will wait till I hear them coming."
She stole her hand under the cloak which covered the sleeper till hercool fingers rested on Maurice's hand. He stirred a little, and his lipsmoved. Then his eyelids quivered to the lifting. But they did not rise.The ear of the Princess was very near them now.
"Margaret!" she heard him say, and as the low whisper reached her shesat erect in her chair with a happy sigh. So wonderful is love and soutterly indifferent to time or place, to circumstance or reason.
"Maurice stood ... holding Margaret's hand."[_Page 219_]]
The Alla also sighed a sigh to think that their hour would pass soswiftly. So Margaret of Courtland, princess and lover, sat contentedlyby the pillow of him who had once been a prisoner in the dungeon ofCastle Kernsberg.
But in the palace of the Prince of Courtland time ran even more swiftlythan the Alla beneath its walls.
Margaret caught a faint sound far away--footsteps, firm footfalls of menwho paced slowly together. And as these came nearer, she coulddistinguish, mixed with them, the sharp tapping of one who leans upon astaff. She did not hesitate a moment now. She bent down upon thesleeper. Her arm glided under his neck. Her lips met his.
"Maurice," she whispered, "wake, dearest. They are coming."
"Margaret!" he would have answered--but could not.
* * * * *
The greetings were soon over. The tale had already been told to VonDessauer by Father Clement. The pair stood up under the golden glow ofthe swinging silver lamps. It was a strange scene. For surely never wasmarriage more wonderfully celebrated on earth than this of two fairmaidens (for so they still appeared) taking hands at the bidding ofGod's priest and vowing the solemn vows, in the presence of a prince'schancellor, to live only for each other in all the world.
Maurice, tall and dark, a red mantle thrown back from his shoulders,confined at the waist and falling again to the feet, stood holdingMargaret's hand, while she, younger and slighter, her skin creamilywhite, her cheek rose-flushed, her eyes brilliant as with fever, watchedFather Clement as if she feared he would omit some essential of theservice.
Von Dessauer, High Councillor of Plassenburg, stood leaning on the headof his staff and watching with a certain gravity of sympathy, mixed withapprehension, the simple ceremonial.
Presently the solemn "Let no man put asunder" was said, the blessingpronounced, and Leopold von Dessauer came forward with his usual courtlygrace to salute the newly made Countess von Loeen.
He would have kissed her hand, but with a swift gesture she offered hercheek.
"Not hands to-day, good friend," she said. "I am no more a princess, butmy husband's wife. They cannot part us now, can they, High Councillor? Ihave gotten my wish!"
"Dear lady," the Chancellor of Plassenburg answered gently. "I am an oldman, and I have observed that Hymen is the most tricksome of thedivinities. His omens go mostly by contraries. Where much is expected,little is obtained. When all men speak well of a wedding, and all theprophets prophesy smooth things--my fear is great. Therefore be of goodcheer. Though you have chosen the rough road, the perilous venture, thedark night, the deep and untried ford, you will yet come out upon aplain of gladness, into a day of sunshine, and at the eventide reach ahome of content."
"So good a fortune from so wise a soothsayer deserves--this!"
And she kissed the Chancellor frankly on the mouth.
"Father Clement," she said, turning about to the priest with aprovocative look on her face, "have you a prophecy for us worthy a likeguerdon?"
"Avaunt, witch! Get thee behind me, pretty impling! Tempt not an old manto forget his office, or I will set thee such a penance as will takemonths to perform."
Nevertheless his face softened as he spoke. He saw too plainly theperils which encompassed Maurice von Lynar and his wife. Yet he held outhis hand benignantly and they sank on their knees.
"God bring you well through, beloveds!" he said. "May He send His angelsto succour the faithful and punish the guilty!"
"I bid you fair good-night!" said Leopold von Dessauer at thethreshold. But he added in his heart, "But alas for the to-morrow thatmust come to you twain!"
"I care for nothing now--I have gotten my will!" said the PrincessMargaret, nodding her head to the Father as he went out.
She was standing on the threshold with her husband's hand in hers, andher eyes were full of that which no words can express.
"May that which is so sweet in the mouth now, never prove bitter in thebelly!"
That was the Father's last prayer for them.
But neither Margaret nor Maurice von Lynar so much as heard him, forthey had turned to one another.
For the golden lamp was burning itself out, and without in the dark theAlla still said, "Hush!" like a mother who soothes her children tosleep.