The Emperor seemed to be choking, so much so[Pg 284] that his anger suddenly collapsed and that he did not even seek to conceal the violence of the blow. All the humiliation, all the ridicule that would fall upon him and upon his dynasty and upon the empire if his son were a prisoner, the loud laughter that would ring through the whole world at the news, the assurance which the possession of such a hostage would give to the enemy; all this showed in his anxious look and in the stoop of his shoulders.
Paul felt the thrill of victory. He held that man as firmly as you hold under your knee the beaten foe who cries out for mercy; and the balance of the forces in conflict was so definitely broken in his favor that the Kaiser's very eyes, raised to Paul's, gave him a sense of his triumph.
The Emperor was able to picture the various phases of the drama enacted during the previous night: the arrival through the tunnel, the kidnapping by the way of the tunnel, the exploding of the mines to ensure the flight of the assailants; and the mad daring of the adventure staggered him. He murmured:
"Who are you?"
Paul relaxed slightly from his rigid attitude. He placed a quivering hand upon the table between them and said, in a grave tone:
"Sixteen years ago, sir, in the late afternoon of a September day, you inspected the works of the tunnel which you were building from Ebrecourt to Corvigny under the guidance of a person-how shall I[Pg 285] describe her-of a person highly placed in your secret service. At the moment when you were leaving a little chapel which stands in the Ornequin woods, you met two Frenchmen, a father and son-you remember, sir? It was raining-and the meeting was so disagreeable to you that you allowed a gesture of annoyance to escape you. Ten minutes later, the lady who accompanied you returned and tried to take one of the Frenchmen, the father, back with her to German territory, alleging as a pretext that you wished to speak to him. The Frenchman refused. The woman murdered him before his son's eyes. His name was Delroze. He was my father."
The Kaiser had listened with increasing astonishment. It seemed to Paul that his color had become more jaundiced than ever. Nevertheless he kept his countenance under Paul's gaze. To him the death of that M. Delroze was one of those minor incidents over which an emperor does not waste time. Did he so much as remember it?
He therefore declined to enter into the details of a crime which he had certainly not ordered, though his indulgence for the criminal had made him a party to it, and he contented himself, after a pause, with observing:
"The Comtesse Hermine is responsible for her own actions."
"And responsible only to herself," Paul retorted, "seeing that the police of her country refused to let her be called to account for this one."
[Pg 286]The Emperor shrugged his shoulders, with the air of a man who scorns to discuss questions of German morality and higher politics. He looked at his watch, rang the bell, gave notice that he would be ready to leave in a few minutes and, turning to Paul, said:
"So it was to avenge your father's death that you carried off Prince Conrad?"
"No, sir, that is a question between the Comtesse Hermine and me; but with Prince Conrad I have another matter to settle. When Prince Conrad was staying at the Chateau d'Ornequin, he pestered with his attentions a lady living in the house. Finding himself rebuffed by her, he brought her here, to his villa, as a prisoner. The lady bears my name; and I came to fetch her."
It was evident from the Emperor's attitude that he knew nothing of the story and that his son's pranks were a great source of worry to him.
"Are you sure?" he asked. "Is the lady here?"
"She was here last night, sir. But the Comtesse Hermine resolved to do away with her and gave her into the charge of Karl the spy, with instructions to take her out of Prince Conrad's reach and poison her."
"That's a lie!" cried the Emperor. "A damnable lie!"
"There is the bottle which the Comtesse Hermine handed to Karl the spy."
[Pg 287]"And then? And then?" said the Kaiser, in an angry voice.
"Then, sir, as Karl the spy was dead and as I did not know the place to which my wife had been taken, I came back here. Prince Conrad was asleep. With the aid of one of my friends, I brought him down from his room and sent him into France through the tunnel."
"And I suppose, in return for his liberty, you want the liberty of your wife?"
"Yes, sir."
"But I don't know where she is!" exclaimed the Emperor.
"She is in a country house belonging to the Comtesse Hermine. Perhaps, if you would just think, sir… a country house a few hours off by motor car, say, a hundred or a hundred and twenty miles at most."
The Emperor, without speaking, kept tapping the table angrily with the pommel of his sword. Then he said:
"Is that all you ask?"
"No, sir."
"What? You want something more?"
"Yes, sir, the release of twenty French prisoners whose names appear on a list given me by the French commander-in-chief."
This time the Emperor sprang to his feet with a bound:
"You're mad! Twenty prisoners! And of[Pg 288]ficers, I expect? Commanders of army corps? Generals?"
"The list also contains the names of privates, sir."
The Emperor refused to listen. His fury found expression in wild gestures and incoherent words. His eyes shot terrible glances at Paul. The idea of taking his orders from that little French subaltern, himself a captive and yet in a position to lay down the law, must have been fearfully unpleasant. Instead of punishing his insolent enemy, he had to argue with him and to bow his head before his outrageous proposals. But he had no choice. There was no means of escape. He had as his adversary one whom not even torture would have caused to yield.
And Paul continued:
"Sir, my wife's liberty against Prince Conrad's liberty would really not be a fair bargain. What do you care, sir, whether my wife is a prisoner or free? No, it is only reasonable that Prince Conrad's release should be the object of an exchange which justifies it. And twenty French prisoners are none too many… Besides, there is no need for this to be done publicly. The prisoners can come back to France, one by one, if you prefer, as though in exchange for German prisoners of the same rank… so that…"
The irony of these conciliatory words, intended to soften the bitterness of defeat and to conceal the blow struck at the imperial pride under the guise of[Pg 289] a concession! Paul thoroughly relished those few minutes. He received the impression that this man, upon whom a comparatively slight injury to his self-respect inflicted so great a torment, must be suffering more seriously still at seeing his gigantic scheme come to nothing under the formidable onslaught of destiny.
"I am nicely revenged," thought Paul to himself. "And this is only the beginning!"
The capitulation was at hand. The Emperor declared:
"I shall see… I will give orders…"
Paul protested:
"It would be dangerous to wait, sir. Prince Conrad's capture might become known in France…"
"Well," said the Emperor, "bring Prince Conrad back and your wife shall be restored to you the same day."
But Paul was pitiless. He insisted on being treated with entire confidence:
"No, sir," he said, "I do not think that things can happen just like that. My wife is in a most horrible position; and her very life is at stake. I must ask to be taken to her at once. She and I will be in France this evening. It is imperative that we should be in France this evening."
He repeated the words in a very firm tone and added:
"As for the French prisoners, sir, they can be returned under such conditions as you may be pleased[Pg 290] to state. I will give you a list of their names with the places at which they are interned."
Paul took a pencil and a sheet of paper. When he had finished writing, the Emperor snatched the list from him and his face immediately became convulsed. At each name he seemed to shake with impotent rage. He crumpled the paper into a ball, as though he had resolved to break off the whole arrangem
ent. But, all of a sudden, abandoning his resistance, with a hurried movement, as though feverishly determined to have done with an exasperating business, he rang the bell three times.
An orderly officer entered with a brisk step and brought his heels together before the Kaiser.
The Emperor reflected a few seconds longer. Then he gave his commands:
"Take Lieutenant Delroze in a motor car to Schloss Hildensheim and bring him back with his wife to the Ebrecourt outposts. On this day week, meet him at the same point on our lines. He will be accompanied by Prince Conrad and you by the twenty French prisoners whose names are on this list. You will effect the exchange in a discreet manner, which you will fix upon with Lieutenant Delroze. That will do. Keep me informed by personal reports."
This was uttered in a jerky, authoritative tone, as though it were a series of measures which the Emperor had adopted of his own initiative, without un[Pg 291]dergoing pressure of any kind and by the mere exercise of his imperial will.
And, having thus settled the matter, he walked out, carrying his head high, swaggering with his sword and jingling his spurs.
"One more victory to his credit! What a play-actor!" thought Paul, who could not help laughing, to the officer's great horror.
He heard the Emperor's motor drive away. The interview had lasted hardly ten minutes.
A moment later he himself was outside, hastening along the road to Hildensheim.
[Pg 292]
CHAPTER XVIII
HILL 132
What a ride it was! And how gay Paul Delroze felt! He was at last attaining his object; and this time it was not one of those hazardous enterprises which so often end in cruel disappointment, but the logical outcome and reward of his efforts. He was beyond the reach of the least shade of anxiety. There are victories-and his recent victory over the Emperor was one of them-which involve the disappearance of every obstacle. Elisabeth was at Hildensheim Castle and he was on his way to the castle and nothing would stop him.
He seemed to recognize by the daylight features in the landscape which had been hidden from him by the darkness of the night before: a hamlet here, a village there, a river which he had skirted. He saw the string of little road-side woods, and he saw the ditch by which he had fought with Karl the spy.
It took hardly more than another hour to reach the hill which was topped by the feudal fortress of Hildensheim. It was surrounded by a wide moat, spanned by a draw-bridge. A suspicious porter[Pg 293] made his appearance, but a few words from the officer caused the doors to be flung open.
Two footmen hurried down from the castle and, in reply to Paul's question, said that the French lady was walking near the pond. He asked the way and said to the officer:
"I shall go alone. We shall start very soon."
It had been raining. A pale winter sun, stealing through the heavy clouds, lit up the lawns and shrubberies. Paul went along a row of hot-houses and climbed an artificial rockery whence trickled the thin stream of a waterfall which formed a large pool set in a frame of dark fir trees and alive with swans and wild duck.
At the end of the pool was a terrace adorned with statues and stone benches. And there he saw Elisabeth.
Paul underwent an indescribable emotion. He had not spoken to his wife since the outbreak of war. Since that day, Elisabeth had suffered the most horrible trials and had suffered them for the simple reason that she wished to appear in her husband's eyes as a blameless wife, the daughter of a blameless mother.
And now he was about to meet her again at a time when none of the accusations which he had brought against the Comtesse Hermine could be rebuffed and when Elisabeth herself had roused Paul to such a pitch of indignation by her presence at Prince Conrad's supper-party! [Pg 294]…
But how long ago it all seemed! And how little it mattered! Prince Conrad's blackguardism, the Comtesse Hermine's crimes, the ties of relationship that might unite the two women, all the struggles which Paul had passed through, all his anguish, all his rebelliousness, all his loathing, were but so many insignificant details, now that he saw at twenty paces from him his unhappy darling whom he loved so well. He no longer thought of the tears which she had shed and saw nothing but her wasted figure, shivering in the wintry wind.
He walked towards her. His steps grated on the gravel path; and Elisabeth turned round.
She did not make a single gesture. He understood, from the expression of her face, that she did not see him, really, that she looked upon him as a phantom rising from the mists of dreams and that this phantom must often float before her deluded eyes.
She even smiled at him a little, such a sad smile that Paul clasped his hands and was nearly falling on his knees:
"Elisabeth… Elisabeth," he stammered.
Then she drew herself up and put her hand to her heart and turned even paler than she had been the evening before, seated between Prince Conrad and Comtesse Hermine. The image was emerging from the realm of mist; the reality grew plainer before her eyes and in her brain. This time she saw Paul!
He ran towards her, for she seemed on the point of falling. But she recovered herself, put out her[Pg 295] hands to make him stay where he was and looked at him with an effort as though she would have penetrated to the very depths of his soul to read his thoughts.
Paul, trembling with love from head to foot, did not stir. She murmured:
"Ah, I see that you love me… that you have never ceased to love me!… I am sure of it now…"
She kept her arms outstretched, however, as though against an obstacle, and he himself did not attempt to come closer. All their life and all their happiness lay in their eyes; and, while her gaze wildly encountered his, she went on:
"They told me that you were a prisoner. Is it true, then? Oh, how I have implored them to take me to you! How low I have stooped! I have even had to sit down to table with them and laugh at their jokes and wear jewels and pearl necklaces which he has forced upon me. All this in order to see you!… And they kept on promising. And then, at length, they brought me here last night and I thought that they had tricked me once more… or else that it was a fresh trap… or that they had at last made up their minds to kill me… And now here you are, here you are, Paul, my own darling!…"
She took his face in her two hands and, suddenly, in a voice of despair:
"But you are not going just yet? You will stay till to-morrow, surely? They can't take you from[Pg 296] me like that, after a few minutes? You're staying, are you not? Oh, Paul, all my courage is gone… don't leave me!…"
She was greatly surprised to see him smile:
"What's the matter? Why, my dearest, how happy you look!"
He began to laugh and this time, drawing her to him with a masterful air that admitted of no denial, he kissed her hair and her forehead and her cheeks and her lips; and he said:
"I am laughing because there is nothing to do but to laugh and kiss you. I am laughing also because I have been imagining so many silly things. Yes, just think, at that supper last night, I saw you from a distance… and I suffered agonies: I accused you of I don't know what… Oh, what a fool I was!"
She could not understand his gaiety; and she said again:
"How happy you are! How can you be so happy?"
"There is no reason why I should not be," said Paul, still laughing.
"Come, look at things as they are: you and I are meeting after unheard-of misfortunes. We are together; nothing can separate us; and you wouldn't have me be glad?"
"Do you mean to say that nothing can separate us?" she asked, in a voice quivering with anxiety.
"Why, of course! Is that so strange?"
[Pg 297]"You are staying with me? Are we to live here?"
"No, not that! What an idea! You're going to pack up your things at express speed and we shall be off."
"Where to?"
"Where to? To France, of course. When you think of it, that's the only country where one's really comfortable."
And, when she stared at him in amazem
ent, he said:
"Come, let's hurry. The car's waiting; and I promised Bernard-yes, your brother Bernard-that we should be with him to-night… Are you ready? But why that astounded look? Do you want to have things explained to you? But, my very dearest, it will take hours and hours to explain everything that's happened to yourself and me. You've turned the head of an imperial prince… and then you were shot… and then… and then… Oh, what does it all matter? Must I force you to come away with me?"
All at once she understood that he was speaking seriously; and, without taking her eyes from him, she asked:
"Is it true? Are we free?"
"Absolutely free."
"We're going back to France?"
"Immediately."
"We have nothing more to fear?"
"Nothing."
The tension from which she was suffering sud[Pg 298]denly relaxed. She in her turn began to laugh, yielding to one of those fits of uncontrollable mirth which find vent in every sort of childish nonsense. She could have sung, she could have danced for sheer joy. And yet the tears flowed down her cheeks. And she stammered:
"Free!… it's all over!… Have I been through much?… Not at all!… Oh, you know that I had been shot? Well, I assure you, it wasn't so bad as all that… I will tell you about it and lots of other things… And you must tell me, too… But how did you manage? You must be cleverer than the cleverest, cleverer than the unspeakable Conrad, cleverer than the Emperor! Oh, dear, how funny it is, how funny!…"
She broke off and, seizing him forcibly by the arm, said:
"Let us go, darling. It's madness to remain another second. These people are capable of anything. They look upon no promise as binding. They are scoundrels, criminals. Let's go… Let's go…"
They went away.
Their journey was uneventful. In the evening, they reached the lines on the front, facing Ebrecourt.
The officer on duty, who had full powers, had a reflector lit and himself, after ordering a white flag to be displayed, took Elisabeth and Paul to the French officer who came forward.
The Woman of Mystery Page 20