Complete Works of Stanley J Weyman

by Stanley J Weyman

  ‘Who is it?’ she said sharply, peering at me with her white, short-sighted face. ‘Oh, it is you, Mr. Thickhead, is it? I know whom you have sneaked in to see!’ she added spitefully.

  ‘That is well,’ I answered civilly. ‘For I came in to see you, Fraulein.’

  ‘Oh!’ she retorted, nodding her head in a very unpleasant manner. ‘Then you want something. I can guess what it is. But go on.’

  ‘If I want something,’ I answered, ‘and I do, it is in your own behalf, Fraulein. You heard what I said to my lady last night? I did not persuade her. Can you persuade her — to leave the camp and its commander?’

  Fraulein Max shook her head. ‘Why should I?’ she said, smoothing out her skirt with her hands, and looking at me with a cunning smile. ‘What have I to gain by persuading her, Master Schwartz?’

  ‘Safety,’ I said.

  ‘Oh!’ she cried ironically. ‘Then let me remind you of something. When we were all safe and comfortable at Heritzburg — safe, mind you — who was it disturbed us? Who was it stirred up my lady to make trouble — more improbi anseris — and though I warned him what would come of it, persisted in it until we had all to flee at night like so many vagrants? Ay, and have never had a quiet night since! Who was that, Master Martin?’

  ‘Fraulein,’ I answered patiently, forbearing to remind her how much she had been herself in fault, ‘I may have been wrong then. It does not alter the situation now.’

  ‘Does it not?’ she replied. ‘But I think it does. You had your way at Heritzburg, and what came of it? Trouble and misery. You want your way now, but I shall not help you to it. I have had enough of your way, and I do not like it.’

  She laughed triumphantly, seeing me silenced; and I stood looking at her, wondering what argument I could use. Doubtless she had had a comfortless time on the journey from Heritzburg, jogging through fords and over ruts, and along steep places, wet, tired, and scared, deprived of her books and all her home pleasures. She had had time and to spare to lay up many a grudge against me. Now it was her turn, and I read in her face her determination to make the most of it.

  I might frighten her; and that seemed my only chance. ‘Well, Fraulein,’ I said after a pause, ‘you may have been right then, and you may be right now. But I hope you have counted the cost. If my lady shows herself determined to leave, to-morrow and perhaps the next day the power of going will remain in her hands. Later it will have passed from her. Familiarity breeds contempt, and even the Countess of Heritzburg cannot stay long in such a camp as this, where nothing is respected, without losing that respect which for the moment protects her. In a day or two, in a few days, the hedge will fall. And then, Fraulein, we may all look to ourselves.’

  But Fraulein Anna laughed shrilly. ‘O tu anser!’ she cried contemptuously. ‘Open your eyes! Cannot you see that the general is knee-deep in love with her? In a week he will be head over ears, and her slave!’

  I stared at her. Doubtless she knew; she was a woman. I drew a deep breath. ‘Well,’ I said, ‘and what of that?’

  She looked at me spitefully. ‘Ask my lady!’ she said. ‘How should I know?’

  I returned her gaze, and thought awhile. Then I said coldly, ‘I think it is you who are the fool, Fraulein. Take it for granted that what you tell me is true. Have you considered what will happen should my lady repulse him? What will happen to her and to us?’

  ‘She will not,’ Fraulein Max answered.

  But I saw that the shaft had gone home. She fidgeted on her seat. And I persisted. ‘Still, if she does?’ I said. ‘What then?’

  ‘She will not!’ she answered. ‘She must not!’

  ‘By Heaven!’ I cried, ‘you are on his side!’

  She blinked at me with her short-sighted eyes. ‘And why not?’ she said slowly. ‘On whose side should I be? My Lord Waldgrave’s? He never gives me a word, and seldom recognises my existence. On yours? If you want help, go to the black-eyed puling girl you have brought in, who is always creeping and crawling round us, and would oust me if she and you could manage it and she had the breeding. Chut! don’t talk to me,’ she continued maliciously, the colour rising to her pale cheeks. ‘I wonder that you dare to come to me with such proposals! Is my lady to be ruled by her servants? Has she no judgment of her own? Why, you fool, I have but to tell her, and you are disgraced!’

  ‘As you please, Fraulein,’ I said sullenly, stung to anger by one part of her harangue. ‘But as to Marie Wort — —’

  ‘Marie Wort?’ she cried, catching me up and mocking my tone. ‘Who said anything about her, I should like to know? Though for my part, had I my way, the popish chit should be whipped!’

  ‘Fraulein!’ I cried.

  She laughed bitterly. ‘Oh, you are fools, you men!’ she said. ‘But I have made you angry, and that is enough. Go! Yes, go. I have supped on folly. Go, before your mistress comes in; or I must out with all, and lose a power over you.’

  I went sullenly. While we had been talking the room had been growing dark. Then it had grown light again with a smoky, dancing glare that played fantastically on the walls and seemed to rise and sink with the murmur of applause outside. They had brought torches made of pine-knots that my lady might see the longer, and in the yellow circle of light which these shed, the mountebanks, monstrously dressed and casting weird shadows, were wrestling and leaping and writhing. The light reached, but fitfully and by flashes, the log on which my lady sat enthroned, with General Tzerclas and the Waldgrave at her side. Still farther away the crowd surged and laughed and gibed in the darkness.

  I looked at my lady and found one look enough. I read the utter hopelessness of the attempt I had just made. She was enjoying herself. Fear was not natural to her, and she saw nothing to fear either in the man beside her or the crowd beyond. Suspicion was no part of her character, and she saw nothing to suspect. Had I won Fraulein Max over to my side, as I felt sure that the general had bought her to his, I should equally have had my trouble for my pains, and no more.

  My only hope lay in the Waldgrave. He alone, could he once warm into flower the love that hung trembling in the bud, might move her as I would have her moved. But, then, the time? Every hour we remained where we were, every day that rose and found us in the camp, rendered retreat more difficult, the general’s plans more definite. He might not yet have made up his mind; he might not yet have hardened his heart to the point of employing force; his passion might be still in the bud, his ambition unshaped. But how long dared I give him?

  Assured that here lay the stress, I watched the young lord’s progress with an anxiety scarcely less than his own. And the longer I watched the higher rose my hopes. It seemed to me that he went steadily forward in favour, while the general stood still. More than once during the next two days the latter showed himself irritable or capricious. The iron hand began to push through the silken glove. And though, on every one of these occasions, Tzerclas covered his mistake with the dexterity of a man of the world, and my lady’s eyes could scarcely be said to be opened, a little coolness resulted, of which the Waldgrave had the benefit.

  He, on his part, seemed imperturbable. Love had to all appearance changed his nature. A dozen times in the two days the impulse to fly at his rival’s throat must have been strong upon him, yet through all he remained calm, pleasant, and courteous, and carried an old head on young shoulders.

  I wondered at last why he did not speak, for I marked the cloud on the general’s brow growing darker and darker, and I found the forced inaction and suspense intolerable. Then I gathered, I cannot say why, that the Waldgrave would not speak until after the great banquet to which the general had bidden my lady. It had been deferred a day or two, but on the third day after the shooting-match it took place.

  CHAPTER XVI.

  THE GENERAL’S BANQUET.

  I suppose it was not love only that enabled the Waldgrave to carry himself so prudently at this time; but with it a sense of the peril in which we all stood. He was so far from betraying this, howev
er, that no one could have worn an air more gallant or seemed in every way more free from care. General Tzerclas had supplied us with a couple of tailors, and there were rich stuffs to be bought in the camp; and the young lord did not neglect these opportunities. When he came on the morning of the great day to attend my lady to the banquet, he wore a suit of dark-blue velvet with a falling collar of white lace, and sash and points of lighter blue — the latter setting off his fair complexion to advantage. His hair, which had grown somewhat, flowed from under a broad-leafed hat decked with an ostrich feather, and he wore golden spurs, and high boots with the tops turned down. As he caracoled up and down before the house, with the sun shining on his fair head, he looked to my eyes as beautiful as Apollo. What the women thought of him, I do not know, but I saw my lady gazing at him from a window when his back was turned, and then, again, when he looked towards the house, she was gone. And I thought I knew what that meant.

  She wore, herself, a grey riding-coat with a little silver braid about it, and a silver belt; and we all made what show we could; so that when we started to the general’s quarters we were something to look at. The camp itself nothing could cleanse, but the village had been swept and the street watered. Pennons and cornets waved here and there in the sunshine, and green boughs garnished the fronts of the houses. Two tall poles, painted after the Venetian fashion and hung with streamers, stood before the general’s quarters, the windows of which were almost hidden by a large trophy formed of glittering pikes and flags of many colours. The road here was strewn with green rushes, and opposite the house were ranked twelve trumpeters, who proclaimed my lady’s arrival with a blare which shook the village.

  On either side of the door a guard of honour was drawn up. I was not disposed to admire anything much, but it must be confessed that the sun shining on pike and corselet and steel cap, and on all the gay and gaudy colours and green leaves, produced a lively and striking effect. The moment my lady’s horse stopped, four officers stepped from the doorway and stood at attention; after whom the general himself appeared bare-headed, and held my lady’s stirrup while she dismounted. The Waldgrave performed a like service for Fraulein Anna, and I and Jacob for Marie Wort and the women.

  Our host first conducted my lady into a withdrawing-room, where were only Count Waska and three colonels. This room, which was small, was fitted with a rich carpet and chairs covered with Spanish leather, as good as any my lady had in the castle at Heritzburg; and the walls were hidden behind Cordovan hangings. Here among other things were a large cage of larks and a strange, misshapen dwarf that stood hardly as high as my waist-belt, but was rumoured to be forty years old. He said several witty things to my lady, and one or two that I fancy the general had taught him, for they brought the blood to her cheeks. On a table stood another very rare and curious thing — a gold or silver-gilt fountain that threw up distilled waters, and continually cooled and sweetened the air. There were besides, gold cups and plates and jewelled arms and Venice glass, which fairly dazzled me; so that as I stood at the door with Jacob and the two maids I wondered at the richness and splendour of everything, and yet could not get out of my head the squalor of the hot, seething camp outside, and the poverty of the country round, which the army had eaten as bare as my hand.

  After a short interval spent in listening to the dwarfs quips and cranks, General Tzerclas conducted my lady with much ceremony to the next room, where the banquet was laid. The floor of this larger room was strewn with scented rushes, the walls being adorned with trophies of arms and heads of deer and wolves, peering from ambushes of green leaves. At the upper end, where was the private door of entrance, was a dais table laid for eight persons; below were tables for forty or more. On the dais the general sat in the middle, having my lady on the right, and next to her Count Waska; on his left he had the Waldgrave, and beyond him Fraulein Anna. The two women stood behind my lady, holding her fan and vinaigrette. At the lower end of the room the general’s band, placed in a kind of cage, played soft airs, while between the courses a gipsy girl danced very prettily, and a juggler diverted the company with his tricks.

  As for the diversity of meats and fishes, and especially of birds, which was set on, it surprised me beyond measure; nor can I understand whence, in the wasted condition of the country, it was procured. For wines, Burgundy, Frontignac, and Tokay were served at the high table, and Rhine wines below. The courses continued to succeed one another for nearly three hours, but such was the skill of the musicians that the time seemed short. One man in particular won my lady’s approbation. He played on a new instrument, shaped somewhat like a viol, but smaller and more roundly framed. Though it had three strings only and was a trifle shrill, it had a wonderful power of touching the heart, arousing the memory and producing a sweet melancholy. The general would have had my lady accept it, and said that he could easily procure another from the Milanese; but she declined gracefully, on the ground that without the player it would be a dumb boon.

  There was so much gaiety in all this — and decent observance too, for the general’s presence kept good order — that I did not wonder that my lady’s eyes sparkled and betrayed the gratification she felt. All was for her, all in her honour. Even I, who looked at the scene through green glasses and could not hear a word the general said without striving to place some ill construction on it — even I felt myself somewhat carried away, when the first toast, that of the Emperor, was given in the midst of cheering, partly serious, partly ironical. It was followed by that of the Elector of Saxony. The King of Sweden came next, and was received in an equally equivocal manner. Not so, however, the fourth, which was given by General Tzerclas standing, with his plumed hat in his hand.

  ‘All in Tokay!’ he cried in his deep voice. ‘The most noble and high-born, the Countess Rotha of Heritzburg, who honours us with her presence! Hoch! Hoch! Hoch!’

  And draining his goblet, which was of green Nuremberg glass, and of no mean value, he dashed it to the floor, an example which was immediately followed by all present, so that the crash of glass and clang of sword-hilts filled the room with high-pitched sounds that seemed to intoxicate the ear.

  My lady rose and bowed thrice, with her cheek crimson and her eyes soft. Then she turned to retire, while all remained standing. The general accompanied her as far as the door of the withdrawing-room, the Waldgrave following with Fraulein Anna; while the dwarf marched side by side with me, keeping step with an absurd gravity which filled the room with laughter. On the threshold the general and his companions left us with low bows; but in a trice Tzerclas came back to say a word in my ear.

  ‘See to the other door,’ he muttered, flashing a grim look at me. ‘There may be deep drinking. If any offer so much as a word of rudeness here, he shall hang, drunk or sober. Have a care, therefore, that no one has the chance.’

  Then my heart sank, for I knew, hearing his tone and seeing his face, as he said that, that Fraulein Anna was right. He loved my mistress. He loved her! I went away to my place by the door, feeling as if he had struck me in the face. For if she loved him in return that were bad enough; and if she did not, what then, seeing that we were in his power?

  Certainly he had omitted nothing on this occasion that might charm her. I thought the feast over; but in the withdrawing-room a fresh collation of dainty sweets and syrups awaited my lady, with a great gold bowl of rosewater. The man, too, who had played on the Italian viol brought it in, that she might see and examine it more closely. From my post at the door, I saw Fraulein Anna flitting about, bringing her short-sighted eyes down to everything, thrusting her face into the rose-water, and peering at the weapons and stuffs as if she would eat them. All the while, too, I could hear her prattling ceaseless praise of everything — the general’s taste, the general’s wealth, his generosity, his skill in Latin, his love for Cæsar — the fat book I had seen him studying by the fire — above all, his appreciation of Voetius, of whom I shrewdly believe he had never heard before.

  My lady sat almost silent under the
steady shower of words, listening and thinking, and now and then touching the strings of the viol which lay forgotten on her lap. Perhaps she was dreaming of her two admirers, perhaps only giving ear to the growing tumult in the room we had left, where the revellers were still at their wine. By-and-by we heard them break into song, and then in thunder the chorus came rolling out —

  ‘Hoch! Who rides with old Pappenheim knee to knee

  The sword is his title, the world is his fee!

  He knows nor Monarch, nor Sire, nor clime

  Who follows the banner of bold Pappenheim!’

  My lady’s lip curled. ‘Is there no one on our side they can sing?’ she muttered, tapping the viol impatiently with her fingers. ‘Have we no heroes? Has Count Bernard never headed a charge or won a fight? Pappenheim? I am tired of the man.’

  The note jarred on her, as it had on me when I first heard these men, paid by the north, singing the praises of the great southern raider. But a moment later she turned her head to hear better, and her face grew thoughtful. A great shout of ‘Waska! Waska!’ rang above the jingling of glasses and snatches of song; and then, ‘The Waldgrave! The Waldgrave!’ This time the cry was less boisterous, the voices were fewer.

  My lady turned to me. ‘What is it?’ she said, a note of anxiety in her voice.

  I was unable to tell her and I listened. By-and-by a roar of laughter made itself heard, and was followed by a cry of ‘Waska!’ as before. And then, ‘The Thuringian Code! The Thuringian Code! It is his turn!’

  ‘They are drinking, your excellency,’ I said reluctantly. ‘It is a drinking match, I think!’

  She rose with a grand gesture, and set the little viol back on the table. ‘I am going,’ she said, almost fiercely. ‘Let the horses be called.’