Yolanda: Maid of Burgundy

by Charles Major

  CHAPTER XVI

  PARTICEPS CRIMINIS

  That evening after supper Max and I walked over to Castleman's. Theevening was cool, and we were sitting in the great parlor talking withCastleman and Twonette when Yolanda entered. The room was fully fiftyfeet long, and extended across the entire front of the house. A hugechimney was built at the east end of the room, and on either side of thefireplace was a cushioned bench. A similar bench extended across theentire west end of the room. When Yolanda entered she ran to me andtook my hand.

  "Come, Sir Karl, I want to speak with you," she said.

  She led me to the west end of the room, sat down on the cushioned bench,and drew in her skirts that I might sit close beside her.

  "I want to tell you about the missive, Sir Karl," she whispered,laughing and shrugging her shoulders in great glee. "Mother returned itto the box, and when I left you I hurried back and haunted the room,fearing that some one might meddle with the parchment. Near the hour ofsix o'clock father entered. I was sitting on the divan, and he sat downin his great chair, of course taking no notice of me--I am tooinsignificant for so great a person to notice, except when he iscompelled to do so. I was joyful in my heart, but I conjured up all mytroubles that I might make myself weep. I feared to show any change inmyself, so I sobbed aloud now and then, and soon father turned angrilytoward me. 'Are you still there?' he asked. 'Yes, father,' I answered,as if trying to stifle my sobs. 'Are you really going to send that cruelletter to King Louis?'"

  "Cruel, indeed," I interrupted.

  "Ah, yes! Well, father made no reply, and I went over to him and beganto plead. I should have wanted to cut my tongue out had I succeeded, butI had little fear. Father is not easily touched by another's suffering,and my tears only hardened his heart. Well, of course, he repulsed me;and soon a page announced Byron the herald and the Bishop of Cambrai.Father took the packet from the iron box, and put his fingers in thepouch, as if he were going to take out the letter. He hesitated, andduring that moment of halting I was by turns cold as ice and hot asfire. Finally his resolution took form, and he drew out the missive. Ithought I should die then and there, when he began to look it over. Butafter a careless glance he put it back in the pouch, and threw it onthe table in front of the bishop. I could hardly keep from shouting forjoy. He had failed to see the alteration, and in case of its discovery,he might now be his own witness against King Louis, should that craftymonarch dare to alter my father's missive by so much as the crossing ofa 't'. If father hereafter discovers anything wrong in the letter, hewill be able to swear that King Louis was the evil doer, since fatherhimself put the letter in the pouch with his own hands. Father willnever suspect that a friend came to me out of far-away Styria to committhis crime."

  "I rejoice that I came," I said.

  "And I," she answered. "I feared the bishop would read the letter, buthe did not. He tied the ribbon, softened the lead wafer over the lampflame, and placed it on the bow-knot; then he stamped it with father'ssmall seal. When it was finished I did not want to laugh for joy--whenone is very happy one wants to weep. That I could safely do, and I did.The bishop handed the letter to Byron, and father spoke commandingly:'Deliver the missive to the French king before you sleep or eat, unlesshe has left Paris. If he has gone to Tours, follow him and loiter not.''And if he is not in Tours, Your Grace?' asked Byron. 'Follow him tillyou find him,' answered father, 'if you must cross the seas.' 'Shall Ido all this without eating or sleeping?' asked Byron. Father roseangrily, and Byron said: 'If Your Grace will watch from the donjonbattlements, in five minutes you will see me riding on your mission.When Your Grace sees me riding back, it will be, I fear, the ghostof Byron.'

  "It was a wearisome task for me to climb the donjon stairs, but I knewfather would not be there to watch Byron set out, and I felt that one ofthe family should give him God-speed; so alone, and frightened almostout of my wits, I climbed those dark steps to the battlements, and gazedafter Byron till he was a mere speck on the horizon down toward Paris. Ipray God there may be a great plenty of trouble grow out of the crossingof this 't'. Father is always saying that women were put on earth tomake trouble, so I'll do what little I can to make true His Lordship'swords." She threw back her head, laughing softly. "Is it not glorious,Sir Karl?"

  "Indeed, Princess--" I began, but she clapped her hand over my mouth andI continued, "Indeed, Yolanda, the plan is so adroit and so effectivethat it fills me with admiration and awe."

  "I like the name Yolanda," said she, looking toward Max, who was sittingwith Twonette on one of the benches by the chimney.

  "And I, too, like it," I responded. "I cannot think of you as thegreatest and richest princess in Europe."

  "Ah, I wish I, too, could forget it, but I can't," she answered with asigh, glancing from under her preposterously long lashes toward Maxand Twonette.

  "How came you to take the name Yolanda?" I asked.

  "Grandfather wished to give me the name in baptism," she answered, "butMary fell to my lot. I like the present arrangement. Mary is the name ofthe princess--the unhappy, faulty princess. Yolanda is my name. Almostevery happy hour I have ever spent has been as Yolanda. You cannot knowthe wide difference between me and the Princess Mary. It is, Sir Karl,as if we were two persons."

  She spoke very earnestly, and I could see that there was no mirth in herheart when she thought of herself as the Princess Mary; she wasnot jesting.

  "I don't know the princess," I said laughingly, "but I know Yolanda."

  "Yes; I'll tell you a great secret, Sir Karl. The Princess Mary is notat all an agreeable person. She is morose, revengeful, haughty, cold--"here her voice dropped to a whisper, "and, Sir Karl, she lies--she lies.While Yolanda--well, Yolanda at least is not cold, and I--I think she isa very delightful person. Don't you?"

  There was a troubled, eager expression in her eyes that told plainly shewas in earnest. To Yolanda the princess was another person.

  "Yolanda is very sure of me," I answered.

  "Ah, that she is," answered the girl. You see, this was a real case ofbilling and cooing between December and May.

  A short silence followed, during which Yolanda glanced furtively towardMax and Twonette.

  "You spoke of your grandfather," said I, "and that reminds me that youpromised to tell me the story of the staircase in the wall."

  "So I did," answered Yolanda, haltingly. Her attention was at the otherend of the room.

  "Do you think Twonette a very pretty girl?" she asked.

  "Yes," I answered, surprised at the abrupt question. I caught a glimpseof Yolanda's face and saw that I had made a mistake, so I continuedhastily: "That is--yes--yes, she is pretty, though not beautiful. Herface, I think, is rather dollish. It is a fine creation in pink andwhite, but I fear it lacks animation."

  "Now for the stairway in the wall," said Yolanda, settling herself withthe pretty little movements peculiar to her when she was contented. "AsI told you, grandfather built it. Afterward he ceded Peronne to KingLouis, and for many years none of our family ever saw the castle. A fewyears ago King Louis ceded it to my father. Father has never lived here,and has visited Peronne only once in a while, for the purpose oflooking after his affairs on the French border. The castle is verystrong, and, being here on the border at the meeting of the Somme andthe Cologne, it has endured many sieges, but it has never been taken. Itis called 'Peronne La Pucelle.'

  "Father's infrequent visits to the castle have been brief, and all whohave ever known of the stairway are dead or have left Burgundy, save thegood people in this house, my mother, my tire-woman, and myself. Threeor four years ago, when I was a child, mother and I, unhappy at Ghentand an annoyance to father, came here to live in the castle, and--and--Iwonder what Sir Max and Twonette find to talk about--and Twonette and Ibecame friends. I love Twonette dearly, but she is a sly creature, forall she is so demure, and she is bolder than you would think, Sir Karl.These very demure girls are often full of surprises. She has beensitting there in the shadow with Sir Max for half an hour.
That, I say,would be bold in any girl. Well, to finish about the staircase: mybedroom, as I told you, was my grandfather's. One day Twonette wasvisiting me, and we--we--Sir Max, what in the world are you and Twonettetalking about? We can't hear a word you say."

  "We can't hear what you are saying," retorted Max.

  "I wish you were young, Sir Karl," whispered Yolanda, "so that I mightmake him jealous."

  "Shall we come to you?" asked Max.

  "No, no, stay where you are," cried Yolanda; then, turning to me, "Wheredid I stop?"

  "Your bedroom--" I suggested.

  "Yes--my bedroom was my grandfather's. One day I had Twonette in to playwith me, and we rummaged every nook and corner we could reach. Byaccident we discovered the movable panel. We pushed it aside, andspurring our bravery by daring each other, we descended the darkstairway step by step until we came suddenly against the oak panel atthe foot. We grew frightened and cried aloud for help. Fortunately,Tante Castleman was on the opposite side of the panel in the oak room,and--and--"

  She had been halting in the latter part of her narrative and I plainlysaw what was coming.

  "Tante Castleman was--was--It was fortunate she--was in--" She sprang toher feet, exclaiming: "I'm going to tell Twonette what I think of herboldness in sitting there in the dark with Sir Max. Her father is nothere to do it." And that was the last I heard of the stairway inthe wall.

  Yolanda ran across the room to the bench by the fireplace and stampedher foot angrily before Twonette.

  "It--it is immodest for a girl to sit here in the deep shadow beside agentleman for hours together. Shame, Twonette! Your father is not hereto correct you."

  Castleman had left the room.

  Twonette laughed, rose hurriedly, and stood by Yolanda in front of Max.Yolanda, by way of apology, took Twonette's hand, but after a few wordsshe coolly appropriated her place "in the deep shadow beside agentleman." A princess enjoys many privileges denied to a burgher girl.When a girl happens to be both, the burgher girl is apt to be influencedby the princess, as the princess is apt to be modified by the life ofthe burgher girl. Presently Yolanda said:--

  "Please go, Twonette, and mix a bowl of wine and honey. Yours isdelicious. Put in a bit of allspice, Twonette, and pepper, beat it well,Twonette, and don't spare the honey. Now there's a good girl. Goquickly, but don't hurry back. Haste, you know, Twonette, makes waste,and you may spoil the wine."

  Twonette laughed and went to mix the wine and honey. I walked back tothe other end of the room, and sat down by a window to watch the nightgather without. I was athrill with the delightful thought that, allunknown to the world, unknown even to himself, Max, through myinstrumentality, was wooing Mary of Burgundy within fifty feet of whereI sat. He was not, of course, actively pressing his suit, but allunconsciously he was taking the best course to win her heart forever andever. Now, with a propitious trick of fortune, my fantastic dream,conceived in far-off Styria, might yet become a veritable fact. By whatrare trick this consummation might be brought about, I did not know, butfortune had been kind so far, and I felt that her capricious ladyshipwould not abandon us.

  Yolanda turned to Max with a soft laugh of satisfaction, settled herskirts about her, as a pleased woman is apt to do, and saidcontentedly:--

  "There, now!"

  "Fraeulein, you are very kind to me," said Max.

  "Yes--yes, I am, Sir Max," she responded, beaming on him. "Now, tell mewhat you and Twonette have been talking about."

  "You," answered Max.

  A laugh gurgled in her throat as she asked:--

  "What else?"

  "I'll tell you if you will tell me what you and Sir Karl were saying,"he responded.

  "Ah, I see!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands gleefully. "You werejealous."

  "I admit it," he answered, so very seriously that one might have thoughthim in earnest. "And you, Fraeulein?"

  "I jealous?" she responded, with lifted eyebrows. "You are a vain man,Sir Max. I was not jealous--only--only a tiny bit--so much--" and shemeasured the extent of her jealousy on the pink tip of her littlefinger. "I am told you were falconing with the Duke of Burgundy to-day.If you go in such fine company, I fear we shall see little of you."

  "There is no company finer than--than--" Max checked his tongue.

  "Say it, Max, say it," she whispered coaxingly, leaning toward him.

  "Than you, Fraeulein." The girl leaned back contentedly against the wall,and Max continued: "Yes, his lordship was kind to me, and most gracious.I cannot believe the stories of cruelty I hear of him. I have been toldthat on different occasions he has used personal violence on his wifeand daughter. If that be true, he must be worse than the brutes of thefield, but you may be sure, Yolanda, the stories are false."

  "Alas! I fear they are too true," responded the girl, sighing in memoryof the afternoon.

  "He is a pleasing companion when he wishes to be," said Max, "and I hearhis daughter, the princess, is much like him."

  "Heavens!" exclaimed Yolanda, "I hope she is like him only when he ispleasing."

  "That is probably true," said Max.

  "There is where I am really jealous, Max--this princess--" she said,leaning forward and looking up into his face with unmistakableearnestness.

  "Why?" asked Max, laughing.

  "Because men love wealth and high estate. There are scores of men--atleast, so I have been told--eager to marry this princess, who do noteven know that she is not hideous to look upon and vixenish in temper.They would take her gladly, with any deformity, physical, mental, ormoral, for the sake of possessing Burgundy."

  "But I am told she is fair and beautiful," said Max.

  "Believe it not," said Yolanda, sullenly. "Whoever heard of a richprincess who was not beautiful? Anne and Joan, daughters of King Louis,are always spoken of as paragons of beauty; yet those who know tell methese royal ladies are hideous. King Louis has nicknamed Joan 'TheOwlet' because she is little, ill-shapen, and black. Anne is tall, largeof bone, fat, and sallow. He should name her 'The Giantess of Beaujeu';and the little half-witted Dauphin he should dub 'Knight of the PrincelyOrder of House Rats.'"

  That she was deeply in earnest there could be no doubt.

  "I hope you do not speak so freely to others," said Max. "If His Graceof Burgundy should hear of your words he might--"

  "I hope you will not tell him," said Yolanda, laughing. "But this Mary!"she continued, clinging stubbornly to the dangerous topic. "You came towoo her estates, and in the end you will do so."

  I am convinced that the girl was intensely jealous of herself. When shefeared that Max might seek the Princess Mary, her heart brooded over thethought that he would do so for the sake of her wealth and her domains.

  "I have told you once, Fraeulein, what I will do and what I will not. Foryour own sake and mine I'll tell you no more," said Max.

  "If I were a great princess," said Yolanda, pouting and hanging herhead, "you would not speak so sharply to me." Evidently she was hurt byMax's words, though they were the expression, not of his displeasure,but of his pain.

  "Fraeulein, forgive me; my words were not meant to be sharp. It was mypain that spoke. You torture me and cause me to torture myself," saidMax. "To keep a constant curb on one's ardent longing is exhausting. Ittakes the heart out of a man. At times you seem to forget that mysilence is my great grief, not my fault. Ah, Fraeulein! you cannotunderstand my longing and my struggle."

  "I do understand," she answered plaintively, slipping her hand into his,"and unless certain recent happenings have the result I hope for, you,too, will understand, more clearly than you now do, within a veryshort time."

  She covered her face with her hands. Her words mystified Max, and he wason the point of asking her to explain. He loved and pitied her, andwould have put his arm around her waist to comfort her, but she sprangto her feet, exclaiming:--

  "No, no, Little Max, let us save all that for our farewell. You will nothave long to wait."

  Wisdom returned to Max, and he knew that s
he was right in helping him toresist the temptation that he had so valiantly struggled against sinceleaving Basel.

  All that I had really hoped for in Styria, all our fair dreams upon thecastle walls of Hapsburg, had come to pass. Max had, beyond doubt, wonthe heart of Mary of Burgundy, but that would avail nothing unless bysome good chance conditions should so change that Mary would be able tochoose for herself. In such case, ambition would cut no figure in herchoice. The chains of duty to family, state, and ancestry that boundMax's feet so firmly would be but wisps of straw about Yolanda's slenderankles. She would have no hesitancy in making her choice, were she freeto do so, and states might go hang for all she would care. Her heart washer state. Would she ever be able to choose? Fortune had been kind to usthus far; would she remain our friend? She is a coquette; but the heartof a coquette, if truly won, is the most steadfast of all.

  Twonette brought in the wine and honey; Castleman soon returned andlighted the lamp, and we all sat talking before the small blaze in thefireplace, till the great clock in the middle of the room chimed thehour of ten. Then Yolanda ran from us with a hurried good night, and Maxreturned with me to the inn.

  * * * * *

  I cannot describe the joy I took from the recurring thought that I wasparticeps criminis with the Princess of Burgundy in the commission of acrime. At times I wished the crime had been greater and its extenuationfar less. We hear much about what happens when thieves fall out, but myobservation teaches me that thieves usually remain good friends. Thebonds of friendship had begun to strengthen between Yolanda and mebefore she sought my help in the perpetration of her great crime. Afterthat black felony, they became like links of Milan chain. I shared hersecrets, great and small.

  One day while Yolanda and I were sitting in the oak room,--the room fromwhich the panel opened into the stairway in the wall,--I said to her:--

  "If your letter 't' causes a break with France, perhaps Max'sopportunity may come."

  "I do not know--I cannot hope," she responded dolefully. "You see, whenfather made this treaty with France, he was halting between two men inthe choice of a husband for me. One was the Dauphin, son to King Louis,whom father hates with every breath he draws. The other was the Duke ofGelders, whom father really likes. Gelders is a brute, Sir Karl. He kepthis father in prison four years, and usurped his domain. He is adrunkard, a murderer, and a profligate. For reasons of state fatherchose the Dauphin, but if the treaty with France is broken, I suppose itwill be Gelders again. If it comes to that, Sir Karl--but I'll not saywhat I'll do. My head is full of schemes from morning till night, andwhen I sleep my poor brain is a whirl of visions. Self-destruction,elopement, and I know not what else appeal to me. How far is it toStyria, Sir Karl?" she asked abruptly.

  "Two or three hundred leagues, perhaps--it may be more," I answered. "Ido not know how far it is, Yolanda, but it is not far enough for yourpurposes. Even could you reach there, Styria could not protect you."

  "I was not thinking of--of what you suppose, Sir Karl," she saidplaintively.

  "What were you thinking of, Yolanda?" I asked.

  "Of nothing--of--of--a wild dream of hiding away from the world in someunknown corner, at times comes to me in my sleep--only in my sleep, SirKarl--for in my waking hours I know it to be impossible. The onlypleasant part of being a princess is that the world envies you; but whata poor bauble it is to buy at the frightful price I pay!"

  "I have been on mountain tops," I answered philosophically, "and I findthat breathing grows difficult as one ascends."

  "Ah, Sir Karl," she answered tearfully, "I believe I'll go upstairs andweep."

  I led her to the moving panel and opened it for her. Without turning herface she held back her hand for me to kiss. Then she started up the darkstone steps, and I knew that she was weeping. I closed the panel and saton the cushioned bench. To say that I would have given my old life towin happiness for her but poorly measures my devotion. A man's happinessdepends entirely on the number and quality of those to whom his lovegoes out. Before meeting Yolanda I drew all my happiness from loving oneperson--Max. Now my source was doubled, and I wished for the first timethat I might live my life again, to lay it at this girl's feet.