The Prisoner of Zenda

by Anthony Hope

  CHAPTER 5

  The Adventures of an Understudy

  With Fritz von Tarlenheim and Colonel Sapt close behind me, I steppedout of the buffet on to the platform. The last thing I did was to feelif my revolver were handy and my sword loose in the scabbard. A gaygroup of officers and high dignitaries stood awaiting me, at their heada tall old man, covered with medals, and of military bearing. He worethe yellow and red ribbon of the Red Rose of Ruritania--which, by theway, decorated my unworthy breast also.

  "Marshal Strakencz," whispered Sapt, and I knew that I was in thepresence of the most famous veteran of the Ruritanian army.

  Just behind the Marshal stood a short spare man, in flowing robes ofblack and crimson.

  "The Chancellor of the Kingdom," whispered Sapt.

  The Marshal greeted me in a few loyal words, and proceeded to deliveran apology from the Duke of Strelsau. The duke, it seemed, had beenafflicted with a sudden indisposition which made it impossible for himto come to the station, but he craved leave to await his Majesty at theCathedral. I expressed my concern, accepted the Marshal's excuses verysuavely, and received the compliments of a large number of distinguishedpersonages. No one betrayed the least suspicion, and I felt my nervereturning and the agitated beating of my heart subsiding. But Fritzwas still pale, and his hand shook like a leaf as he extended it to theMarshal.

  Presently we formed procession and took our way to the door of thestation. Here I mounted my horse, the Marshal holding my stirrup. Thecivil dignitaries went off to their carriages, and I started to ridethrough the streets with the Marshal on my right and Sapt (who, as mychief aide-de-camp, was entitled to the place) on my left. The city ofStrelsau is partly old and partly new. Spacious modern boulevards andresidential quarters surround and embrace the narrow, tortuous, andpicturesque streets of the original town. In the outer circles the upperclasses live; in the inner the shops are situated; and, behind theirprosperous fronts, lie hidden populous but wretched lanes and alleys,filled with a poverty-stricken, turbulent, and (in large measure)criminal class. These social and local divisions corresponded, as I knewfrom Sapt's information, to another division more important to me. TheNew Town was for the King; but to the Old Town Michael of Strelsau was ahope, a hero, and a darling.

  The scene was very brilliant as we passed along the Grand Boulevard andon to the great square where the Royal Palace stood. Here I was inthe midst of my devoted adherents. Every house was hung with red andbedecked with flags and mottoes. The streets were lined with raisedseats on each side, and I passed along, bowing this way and that, undera shower of cheers, blessings, and waving handkerchiefs. The balconieswere full of gaily dressed ladies, who clapped their hands and curtsiedand threw their brightest glances at me. A torrent of red roses fell onme; one bloom lodged in my horse's mane, and I took it and stuck it inmy coat. The Marshal smiled grimly. I had stolen some glances at hisface, but he was too impassive to show me whether his sympathies werewith me or not.

  "The red rose for the Elphbergs, Marshal," said I gaily, and he nodded.

  I have written "gaily," and a strange word it must seem. But the truthis, that I was drunk with excitement. At that moment I believed--Ialmost believed--that I was in very truth the King; and, with a look oflaughing triumph, I raised my eyes to the beauty-laden balconies again. . . and then I started. For, looking down on me, with her handsomeface and proud smile, was the lady who had been my fellowtraveller--Antoinette de Mauban; and I saw her also start, and her lipsmoved, and she leant forward and gazed at me. And I, collecting myself,met her eyes full and square, while again I felt my revolver. Supposeshe had cried aloud, "That's not the King!"

  Well, we went by; and then the Marshal, turning round in his saddle,waved his hand, and the Cuirassiers closed round us, so that the crowdcould not come near me. We were leaving my quarter and entering DukeMichael's, and this action of the Marshal's showed me more clearly thanwords what the state of feeling in the town must be. But if Fate made mea King, the least I could do was to play the part handsomely.

  "Why this change in our order, Marshal?" said I.

  The Marshal bit his white moustache.

  "It is more prudent, sire," he murmured.

  I drew rein.

  "Let those in front ride on," said I, "till they are fifty yards ahead.But do you, Marshal, and Colonel Sapt and my friends, wait here tillI have ridden fifty yards. And see that no one is nearer to me. I willhave my people see that their King trusts them."

  Sapt laid his hand on my arm. I shook him off. The Marshal hesitated.

  "Am I not understood?" said I; and, biting his moustache again, he gavethe orders. I saw old Sapt smiling into his beard, but he shook hishead at me. If I had been killed in open day in the streets of Strelsau,Sapt's position would have been a difficult one.

  Perhaps I ought to say that I was dressed all in white, except my boots.I wore a silver helmet with gilt ornaments, and the broad ribbon of theRose looked well across my chest. I should be paying a poor complimentto the King if I did not set modesty aside and admit that I made a veryfine figure. So the people thought; for when I, riding alone, enteredthe dingy, sparsely decorated, sombre streets of the Old Town, therewas first a murmur, then a cheer, and a woman, from a window above acookshop, cried the old local saying:

  "If he's red, he's right!" whereat I laughed and took off my helmet thatshe might see that I was of the right colour and they cheered me againat that.

  It was more interesting riding thus alone, for I heard the comments ofthe crowd.

  "He looks paler than his wont," said one.

  "You'd look pale if you lived as he does," was the highly disrespectfulretort.

  "He's a bigger man than I thought," said another.

  "So he had a good jaw under that beard after all," commented a third.

  "The pictures of him aren't handsome enough," declared a pretty girl,taking great care that I should hear. No doubt it was mere flattery.

  But, in spite of these signs of approval and interest, the mass ofthe people received me in silence and with sullen looks, and my dearbrother's portrait ornamented most of the windows--which was an ironicalsort of greeting to the King. I was quite glad that he had been sparedthe unpleasant sight. He was a man of quick temper, and perhaps he wouldnot have taken it so placidly as I did.

  At last we were at the Cathedral. Its great grey front, embellishedwith hundreds of statues and boasting a pair of the finest oak doors inEurope, rose for the first time before me, and the sudden sense of myaudacity almost overcame me. Everything was in a mist as I dismounted. Isaw the Marshal and Sapt dimly, and dimly the throng of gorgeously robedpriests who awaited me. And my eyes were still dim as I walked up thegreat nave, with the pealing of the organ in my ears. I saw nothing ofthe brilliant throng that filled it, I hardly distinguished the statelyfigure of the Cardinal as he rose from the archiepiscopal throne togreet me. Two faces only stood out side by side clearly before myeyes--the face of a girl, pale and lovely, surmounted by a crown of theglorious Elphberg hair (for in a woman it is glorious), and the faceof a man, whose full-blooded red cheeks, black hair, and dark deep eyestold me that at last I was in presence of my brother, Black Michael. Andwhen he saw me his red cheeks went pale all in a moment, and his helmetfell with a clatter on the floor. Till that moment I believe that he hadnot realized that the King was in very truth come to Strelsau.

  Of what followed next I remember nothing. I knelt before the altar andthe Cardinal anointed my head. Then I rose to my feet, and stretched outmy hand and took from him the crown of Ruritania and set it on my head,and I swore the old oath of the King; and (if it were a sin, may it beforgiven me) I received the Holy Sacrament there before them all. Thenthe great organ pealed out again, the Marshal bade the heralds proclaimme, and Rudolf the Fifth was crowned King; of which imposing ceremony anexcellent picture hangs now in my dining-room. The portrait of the Kingis very good.

  Then the lady with the pale face and the glorious hair, her train heldby two pages, steppe
d from her place and came to where I stood. And aherald cried:

  "Her Royal Highness the Princess Flavia!"

  She curtsied low, and put her hand under mine and raised my hand andkissed it. And for an instant I thought what I had best do. Then Idrew her to me and kissed her twice on the cheek, and she blushed red,and--then his Eminence the Cardinal Archbishop slipped in front of BlackMichael, and kissed my hand and presented me with a letter from thePope--the first and last which I have received from that exaltedquarter!

  And then came the Duke of Strelsau. His step trembled, I swear, andhe looked to the right and to the left, as a man looks who thinks onflight; and his face was patched with red and white, and his hand shookso that it jumped under mine, and I felt his lips dry and parched. AndI glanced at Sapt, who was smiling again into his beard, and, resolutelydoing my duty in that station of life to which I had been marvellouslycalled, I took my dear Michael by both hands and kissed him on thecheek. I think we were both glad when that was over!

  But neither in the face of the princess nor in that of any other did Isee the least doubt or questioning. Yet, had I and the King stood sideby side, she could have told us in an instant, or, at least, on a littleconsideration. But neither she nor anyone else dreamed or imagined thatI could be other than the King. So the likeness served, and for an hourI stood there, feeling as weary and blase as though I had been a kingall my life; and everybody kissed my hand, and the ambassadors paid metheir respects, among them old Lord Topham, at whose house in GrosvenorSquare I had danced a score of times. Thank heaven, the old man was asblind as a bat, and did not claim my acquaintance.

  Then back we went through the streets to the Palace, and I heard themcheering Black Michael; but he, Fritz told me, sat biting his nails likea man in a reverie, and even his own friends said that he should havemade a braver show. I was in a carriage now, side by side with thePrincess Flavia, and a rough fellow cried out:

  "And when's the wedding?" and as he spoke another struck him in theface, crying "Long live Duke Michael!" and the princess coloured--it wasan admirable tint--and looked straight in front of her.

  Now I felt in a difficulty, because I had forgotten to ask Sapt thestate of my affections, or how far matters had gone between the princessand myself. Frankly, had I been the King, the further they had gone thebetter should I have been pleased. For I am not a slow-blooded man, andI had not kissed Princess Flavia's cheek for nothing. These thoughtspassed through my head, but, not being sure of my ground, I saidnothing; and in a moment or two the princess, recovering her equanimity,turned to me.

  "Do you know, Rudolf," said she, "you look somehow different today?"

  The fact was not surprising, but the remark was disquieting.

  "You look," she went on, "more sober, more sedate; you're almostcareworn, and I declare you're thinner. Surely it's not possible thatyou've begun to take anything seriously?"

  The princess seemed to hold of the King much the same opinion that LadyBurlesdon held of me.

  I braced myself up to the conversation.

  "Would that please you?" I asked softly.

  "Oh, you know my views," said she, turning her eyes away.

  "Whatever pleases you I try to do," I said; and, as I saw her smile andblush, I thought that I was playing the King's hand very well for him.So I continued and what I said was perfectly true:

  "I assure you, my dear cousin, that nothing in my life has affected memore than the reception I've been greeted with today."

  She smiled brightly, but in an instant grew grave again, and whispered:

  "Did you notice Michael?"

  "Yes," said I, adding, "he wasn't enjoying himself."

  "Do be careful!" she went on. "You don't--indeed you don't--keep enoughwatch on him. You know--"

  "I know," said I, "that he wants what I've got."

  "Yes. Hush!"

  Then--and I can't justify it, for I committed the King far beyond what Ihad a right to do--I suppose she carried me off my feet--I went on:

  "And perhaps also something which I haven't got yet, but hope to winsome day."

  This was my answer. Had I been the King, I should have thought itencouraging:

  "Haven't you enough responsibilities on you for one day, cousin?"

  Bang, bang! Blare, blare! We were at the Palace. Guns were firingand trumpets blowing. Rows of lackeys stood waiting, and, handing theprincess up the broad marble staircase, I took formal possession, asa crowned King, of the House of my ancestors, and sat down at my owntable, with my cousin on my right hand, on her other side Black Michael,and on my left his Eminence the Cardinal. Behind my chair stood Sapt;and at the end of the table, I saw Fritz von Tarlenheim drain to thebottom his glass of champagne rather sooner than he decently should.

  I wondered what the King of Ruritania was doing.