CHAPTER XXII.
GREEK AND GREEK.
What my lady's thoughts were during her long ride back to the camp, Ido not know. But I have heard her say that when she rode into thevillage, a day and a half in advance of the dusty, lumbering convoy,she could scarcely believe that it was the place she had left, theplace in which she had lived for a fortnight. And this, though allremained the same. So much does the point from which we look at thingsalter their aspect.
The general had sent on the news of the Waldgrave's loss by messenger,that she might be spared the pain of telling it; and Fraulein Max andMarie Wort were waiting on the wooden platform before the house whenshe rode wearily in. The sight of those two gave her a certain senseof relief and home coming, merely because they were women and worepetticoats. But that was all. The village, the reeking camp, thesqualid soldiery, the whining beggars filled her--now that her eyeswere opened and she saw this ugly face of war stripped of the glamourwith which her fancy had invested it--with fear and repulsion. Shewondered that she could ever have liked the place and been gay in it,or drawn pleasure from the amusements which now seemed poor andtawdry.
Fraulein Max ran down into the road to meet her, and when she haddismounted, covered her with tearful caresses. But the Countess, afterreceiving her greetings, still looked round wistfully as if she missedsome one; and then in a moment moved from her, and mounting the stepswent swiftly to the dark corner by the porch whither Marie Wort hadrun, and where she now stood leaning against the house with her faceto the wall.
My lady, whom few had ever seen unbend, took the girl in her arms, andlaid her head on her shoulder and stroked her hair pitifully.
'Hush, hush, child!' she murmured, her eyes wet with tears. 'Poorchild, poor child! Is it so very bad?'
But Marie could only sob.
They went into the house in a moment after that, those three, with thewaiting-women. And then a change came over the Countess. Fraulein Maxblinked to see it. My lady who, outside, had been so tender, began,before her riding cloak was off, to walk up and down like a cagedwolf, with hard eyes and cheeks burning with indignation. Fraulein Maxspoke to her timidly--said that the meal was ready, that my lady'swoman was waiting, that my lady must be tired. But the Countess puther by almost with an oath. For hours she had been playing a part, athing her proud soul loathed. For hours she had hidden, not her sorrowonly and her anger, but her anxieties, her fears, her terrors. Now shemust be herself or die.
Besides, the thing pressed! She had her woman's wits, and might staveoff the general's offer for a few days, for a week. But a week--whatwas that? No wonder that she looked on the four helpless women roundher, and realised that these were her only helpers now, her onlyprotection; no wonder that she cried out.
'I have been a fool!' she said, looking at them with burning eyes. 'Afool! When Martin warned me, I would not listen; when the Waldgravehinted, I laughed at him. I was bewitched, like a silly fool in herteens! Don't contradict me!' And she stamped her foot impatiently.Fraulein Max had raised her hand.
'I don't,' the Fraulein answered. 'I don't understand you.'
'Do you understand that empty, chair?' my lady answered bitterly. 'Orthat empty stool?'
Fraulein Anna blinked more and more. 'But war,' she said mildly--'anecessary evil, Voetius calls it--war, Countess----'
'Oh!' my lady cried in a fury. 'As carried on by these, it is ahorror, a fiendish thing! I did not know before. Now I have seen it.Wait, wait, girl, until it takes those you love, and threatens yourown safety, and then talk to me of war!'
But Fraulein Anna set her face mutinously. 'Still, I do notunderstand,' she said slowly, winking her short-sighted eyes likean owl in the daylight. 'You talk as if we had cause not only togrieve--as we have, indeed--but to fear. Are we not safe here? GeneralTzerclas----'
'Bah!' the Countess cried, trembling with emotion. 'Don't let me hearhis name! I hate him. He is false. False, girl. I do not trust him; Ido not believe him; and I would to Heaven we were out of his hands!'
Even Marie Wort, sitting white and quiet in a corner, looked up atthat. As for Fraulein Max, she passed her tongue slowly over her lips,but did not answer; and for a moment there was silence in the room.Then Marie said very softly, 'Thank God!'
My lady turned to her roughly. 'Why do you say that?' she said.
'Because of what I have learned since you left us,' the girl answered,in a frightened whisper. 'There was a man who lived in this house, mylady.'
'Yes, yes,' the Countess muttered eagerly. 'I remember he begged ofme, and General Tzerclas gave him money. That was one of the thingsthat blinded me.'
'He hung him afterwards,' the girl whispered in a shaking voice. 'Bythe river, in the south-east corner of the camp.'
The Countess stared at her incredulously, rage and horror in her face.'That man whom I saw?' she cried. 'It is not possible! You have beendeceived.'
But Marie Wort shook her head. 'It is true,' she said simply.
'Then Heaven help us all!' the Countess whispered in a thrilling tone.'For we are in that man's power!'
There was a stricken silence after that, which lasted some minutes.The room seemed to grow darker, the house more silent, the road onwhich they looked through the unglazed window more dusty, squalid,dreary--dreary with the summer dreariness of drought. One of thewaiting-women began to cry. The other stood bolt upright, looking outwith startled eyes, and lips half open.
'Yes, all,' the Countess presently went on, her voice hard andcomposed. 'He has asked me to be his wife. He has honoured me so far.'She laughed a thin, mirthless laugh. 'If I am willing, therefore,well. If I am not--still he will wed me. After that he will keep ushere in the midst of these horrors. Or he will march to Heritzburg,and then God help Heritzburg and my people!'
Fraulein Anna passed her tongue over her lips again, and shifted herhands in her lap. She was paler than usual. But she did not speak.
'The child?' the Countess said presently, in a different tone. 'Has itbeen recovered?'
Marie shook her head; and a moment later threw her kerchief over herface and went out. They heard her sobs as she went along the passage.
My lady frowned. 'If we could get a message to Count Leuchtenstein,'she murmured thoughtfully. 'But I do not know where he is. He mayreturn to seek the child, however; and that is our best chance, Ithink.'
They brought food in after that, and the council broke up. It is to befeared that the Countess found herself little the better for itsadvice.
In the evening the general called to learn whether she was muchfatigued; and she fancied she detected in his manner a masterfulnessand a familiarity from which it had been free. But her suspicionsrendered her so prone to read between the lines, that it is possiblethat she saw some things that were not there. Her own feelings shesucceeded in masking, except in one matter. He brought Count Waskawith him; and it occurred to her, in her fear and helplessness, thatshe might enlist the Bohemian on her side. Such schemes come to women,even to proud women; and though Waska, half sportsman and half sot,and in body a mountain of flesh, was an unlikely knight-errant, sheplied him so craftily, that when the two were gone she sat for an hourin a state of exaltation, believing that here a new and unexpected wayto safety might open. The Bohemian was second in command, though at agreat interval. He was popular, and in some points a gentleman. Couldshe excite in him jealousy, discontent, even passion, her position wassuch that she was in no mood to stand on scruples.
But when the general came next day, _he did not bring Waska_; nor theday after. And he showed so plainly that he saw through the design,and suspected her, that he left her white and furious. Indeed it was aquestion who was left by this interview the more excited, my lady, whosaw the circle growing ever narrower round her, and read with growingclearness the man's determination to win her at all costs and by allmeans; or the general, whose passion every day augmented, who saw inher both the woman he desired and the heiress, and would fain,
if hecould, have won her heart as well as her person.
The possession of power tempts to the use of it, and he began to losepatience. He had a screw in readiness, he fancied, that would bendeven that proud neck and humble those knees. A day or two more hewould give her, and then he would turn it. Hate itself is not morecruel than love despised!
But he did not count on her influence over him. The day or two passed,and another day or two, and still she kept him amused and kept him atbay. Sometimes he saw through her wiles, and came near to vowing thathe would not give her another hour. Will she, nill she, she should wedhim. But then the glamour of her presence and her beauty blinded himagain. And so a week went slowly by; each day won, at what a cost ofpride, of courage, of self-respect!
At the end of that time my lady's face had grown so white and drawnunder the strain, that when she sat alone she looked years older thanher age. The light still flashed in her eyes; they had grown only thelarger. But her cheeks and her lips had lost their colour, her hairits gloss. When no one was watching her, she glanced round her like ahunted animal. When anything crossed her, she flew into fearful rageswith her women. They were so useless, so helpless! She was like ascorpion I have heard of, that, ringed round with fire, stings allwithin its reach.
How many nights she tossed, sleepless; how often she went over theodds against her; grasped at this idea or that; thought of horses androads, ways and means, the distance to Cassel, or the chances ofLeuchtenstein's return, I cannot say; but I can guess. At last, duringone of these night vigils, something happened. She was lying,torturing herself with the thought that to this constant putting offthere could only be one end, when she heard sneaking footsteps movingin the passage. The wall which divided it from her room ran beside herbed, and, lying still, she heard the rustling of garments against theboards.
Something like this she had feared in her worst moments; and on theinstant she sat up and listened, her heart beating wildly. Since herreturn the two waiting-women had lain in her room. She could hear thembreathing now. But beside and above that, she could hear the stealthyrustling sound she had heard before. Then it ceased.
She rose trembling. The windows were shuttered, and the lamp whichcommonly burned in a basin had gone out. The room, therefore, wasquite dark. Without awaking the women she stole across the floor tothe door, and there set her ear to the panels and listened. But sheheard nothing except the distant shout of a reveller, and the mournfulhowling of one of the pack of curs that infested the camp; all wasstill.
Still she crouched there listening, and presently her patience wasrewarded. Some one entered by the outer door, and went quickly alongthe passage, the boards creaking so loudly that it was a wonder thewomen were not aroused. The footsteps went straight to the room whereFraulein Max and Marie Wort slept. Some one had been out and returned!
There was a hint of treachery here, and my lady stood up, her facegrowing hard. Which of the two was it? In a moment she had her answer.A dozen times in the last week Marie had puzzled her; a dozen timesthe Papist girl's easy resignation had angered her. She had caught hermore than once smiling--smiling childish smiles that would not berepressed. This was the secret, then!
The Countess grew hot, and in a moment was out of her room and at thedoor of that other room. A taper still burned there; its light showedthrough the cracks. Without hesitation she thrust the door open, andentering surprised Marie Wort in the very act. The girl was standingin the middle of the floor taking off a cloak. Guilt and fear werewritten on her face.
'You wicked girl!' the Countess cried, her eyes blazing.
Then she stopped. For Marie, instead of retreating before her, pointedwith a warning finger to a second empty pallet; and my lady lookinground saw with astonishment that Fraulein Max was missing.
'What does this mean?' the Countess muttered in a different tone.
Marie, trembling and listening, put her finger to her lips. 'Hush,hush, my lady,' she whispered. 'She must not find you here! She mustnot, indeed. I heard her go out, and I followed. I have heard all.'
'All?' the Countess stammered, and she began to tremble.
'Yes,' the girl answered. Then 'Go, go! my lady,' she cried. She wasshaking with agitation, and looked round as if for a way of escape.But there was no second door to the room. 'If she finds you here weare lost. Go back, and in the morning----'
She stopped abruptly, and her eyes grew wide. The Countess listeningtoo, and catching the infection of her fear, heard a board creakbelow.
For a moment the two stood in the middle of the floor, gazing into oneanother's eyes. Then Marie, with a sudden movement, thrust my ladydown on her pallet, and with the other hand put out the light.
They lay, scarcely daring to breathe, and heard Fraulein Anna gropeher way in, and stand awhile, silent and listening, as if she foundsomething suspicious in the extinction of the light. But the taper--itwas a mere rushlight--had done this before, and Marie stirred sonaturally, that Fraulein Max's doubts passed away. She put off hercloak quickly, and presently--but not, as it seemed to the Countess,until an hour had elapsed--they heard her begin to breathe regularly.A few minutes more and they had no doubt she slept. Then Marie touchedmy lady's arm, and the latter, rising softly, stole out of the room.
The adventure left the Countess's thoughts in a whirl. She hateddouble-dealing as much as any one, and she could scarcely containherself before Fraulein Max. It was as much as she could do to wear asmooth face for an hour, until a chance occasion, which fortunatelycame early in the day, left her alone with Marie. Then she turned,almost fiercely, on the girl.
'What is this?' she said. 'What does it all mean? Himmel! Tell me!Tell me quickly!'
Marie Wort looked at her with tears in her eyes. 'You should be ableto guess, my lady,' she said sadly. 'There is a traitor among us.'
'Fraulein Anna?'
Marie nodded. 'She is in his pay,' she said simply.
'His? The general's?'
'Yes,' Marie answered, speaking quickly, with her eyes on the door.'She met him last night, and told him what you feel about him.'
The Countess drew a deep breath. Her face turned a shade paler. Shesat up straight in her chair. 'All?' she said huskily.
Marie nodded.
'And he?'
'He said he would have an answer to-day. Then I left. I did not hearany more.'
The Countess sat for a minute as if turned to stone. Here was an endof putting off--of smiles, and pleasant words, and the littlecraftinesses which had hitherto served her. Stern necessity, hard fatewere before her. She was of a high courage, but terror was fastmastering her, when Marie touched her on the arm.
'If you can put him off, until this evening,' the girl muttered, 'Ithink something may be done.'
'What?'
'Something. I do not know what,' the girl answered in a troubled tone.
The Countess rose suddenly. 'Ah! I would like to choke her!' she criedhoarsely. She stretched out her arms.
'Hush, hush, my lady!' Marie whispered. The Countess's violencefrightened her. 'I think, if you can put him off until to-night, wemay contrive something.'
'We? You and I?' my lady said in scorn. But as she looked at theother's pale, earnest face, her own softened, her tone changed. 'Well,it shall be as you wish,' she said, letting her arms drop. 'You are abetter plotter than I am. But I fear Fraulein Cat, Fraulein Snake,Fraulein Fox will prove the best of all!'
Marie's frightened face showed that she thought this possible, but shesaid no more, and would give my lady no explanation, though theCountess pressed for it. It was decided in the end that the Countessshould plead sudden illness, and use that pretext both to avoidFraulein Max, and postpone her interview with the general until theevening.
He came at noon, and the Countess heard his horses pawing and frettingin the road, and she sat up in her darkened room with a white face.What if he would not accept the excuse? If he would see her? What ifthe moment had come in which his will and hers must decide thestruggle? She rose and stood
listening, as fierce in her beauty as anytrapped savage creature. Her heartbeat wildly, her bosom heaved. Butin a moment she heard the horses move away, and presently Marie camein to tell her that he would wait till evening.
'No longer?' the Countess asked, hiding her face in the pillow.
'Not an hour, he said,' Marie answered, indicating by a gesturethat the door was open, and that Fraulein Max was listening. 'Hewas--different,' she whispered.
'How?' my lady muttered.
'He swore at me,' Marie answered in the same tone. 'And he spoke ofyou--somehow differently.'
The Countess laughed, but far from joyously. 'I suppose to-night--Imust see him?' she said. She tried as she spoke to press herself moredeeply into the pillows, as if she might escape that way. Her fleshcrept, and she shivered though she was as hot as fire.
Once or twice in the hours which followed she was almost besideherself. Sometimes she prayed. More often she walked up and down theroom like one in a fever. She did not know on what she was trusting,and she could have struck Marie when the girl, appealed to again andagain, would explain nothing, and name no quarter from which helpmight come. All the afternoon the camp lay grilling in the sunshine,and in the shuttered room in the middle of it my lady suffered. Hadthe house lain by the river she might have tried to escape; but thecamp girdled it on three sides, and on the fourth, where a swampyinlet guarded one flank of the village, a deep ditch as well as themorass forbade all passage.
She remained in her room until she heard the unwelcome sounds whichtold of the general's return. Then she came into the outer room, hereyes glittering, a red spot on either cheek, all pretence at an end.Her glance withered Fraulein Max, who sat blinking in a corner with avery evil conscience. And to Marie Wort, when the girl came near heron the pretence of adjusting her lace sleeves, she had only one wordto say.
'You slut!' she hissed, her breath hot on the girl's cheek. 'If youfail me I will kill you. Begone out of my sight!'
The child, excited before, broke down at that, and, bursting into afit of weeping, ran out. Her sobs were still in the air when GeneralTzerclas entered.
The Countess's face was flushed, and her bearing, full of passion anddefiance, must have warned him what to expect, if he felt any doubtbefore. The sun was just setting, the room growing dusk. He stoodawhile, after saluting her, in doubt how he should come to the point,or in admiration; for her scorn and anger only increased her beautyand his feeling for her. At length he pointed lightly to the women,who kept their places by the door.
'Is it your wish, fair cousin,' he said slowly, 'that I should speakbefore these, or will you see me alone?'
'Your spy, that cat there,' my lady answered, carried away by hertemper, 'may go! The women will stay.'
Fraulein Max, singled out by that merciless finger, sprang forward,her face mottled with surprise and terror. For a second she hesitated.Then she rushed towards her friend, as if she would embrace her.
'Countess!' she cried. 'Rotha! Surely you are mad! You cannot thinkthat I would----'
My lady turned, and in a flash struck her fiercely on the cheek withher open hand. 'Liar!' she cried; 'go to your master, you whippedhound!'
The Dutch woman recoiled with a cry of pain, and sobbing wildly wentback to her place. The general laughed harshly.
'You hold with me, sweetheart,' he said. 'Discipline beforeeverything. But you have not my patience.'
She looked at him--angry with him, angry with herself, her hand to herbosom--but she did not answer.
'For you must allow,' he continued--his tone and his eyes stillbantered her--'that I have been patient. I have been like a manathirst in the desert; but I have waited day after day, until now Ican wait no longer, sweetheart.'
'So you tamper with my--with that woman!' she said scornfully.
The general shrugged his shoulders and laughed grimly. 'Why not?' hesaid. 'What are waiting-women and the like made for, if not to bebribed--or slapped?'
She hated him for that sly hit--if never before; but she controlledherself. She would throw the burden on him.
He read the thought, and it led him to change his tone. There was agloomy fire in his eyes, and smouldering passion in his voice, when hespoke again.
'Well, Countess,' he said, 'I am here for your answer.'
'To what?'
'To the question I asked you some time ago,' he rejoined, dwelling onher with sullen eyes. 'I asked you to be my wife. Your answer?'
'Prythee!' she said proudly, 'this is a strange way of wooing.'
'It is not of my choice that I woo in company,' he answered, shrugginghis shoulders. 'My answer; that is all I want--and you.'
'Then you shall have the first, and not the last,' she exclaimed on asudden impulse. 'No, no--a hundred times no! If you do not see that bypressing me now,' she continued impetuously, 'when I am alone,friendless, and unprotected, you insult me, you should see it, and Ido.'
For a moment there was silence. Then he laughed; but his voice,notwithstanding his mastery over it and in spite of that laugh, shookwith rage and resentment. 'As I expected,' he said. 'I knew last nightthat you hated me. You have been playing a part throughout. You loatheme. Yes, madam, you may wince,' he continued bitterly, 'for you shallstill be my wife; and when you are my wife we will talk of that.'
'Never!' she said, with a brave face; but her heart beat wildly, and amist rose before her eyes.
He laughed. 'My legions are round me,' he said. 'Where are yours?'
'You are a gentleman,' she answered with an effort. 'You will let mego.'
'If I do not?'
'There are those who will know how to avenge me.'
He laughed again. 'I do not know them, Countess,' he saidcontemptuously. 'For Hesse Cassel, he has his hands full at Nuremberg,and will be likely, when Wallenstein has done with him, to need helphimself. The King of Sweden--the brightest morning ends soonest inrain--and he will end at Nuremberg. Bernhard of Weimar, Leuchtenstein,all the fanatics fall with him. Only the banner of the Free Companiesstands and waves ever the wider. Be advised,' he continued grimly.'Bend, Countess, or I have the means to break you.'
'Never!' she said.
'So you say now,' he answered slowly. 'You will not say so in fiveminutes. If you care nothing for yourself, have a care for yourfriends.'
'You said I had none,' she retorted hoarsely.
'None that can help you,' he replied; 'some that you can help.'
She started and looked at him wildly, her lips apart, her eyes widewith hope, fear, expectation. What did he mean? What could he mean bythis new turn? Ha!
She had her face towards the window, and dark as the room wasgrowing--outside the light was failing fast--he read the thought inher eyes, and nodded.
'The Waldgrave?' he said lightly. 'Yes, he is alive, Countess, atpresent; and your steward also.'
'They are prisoners?' she whispered, her cheeks grown white.
'Prisoners; and under sentence of death.'
'Where?'
'In my camp.'
'Why?' she muttered. But alas! she knew; she knew already.
'They are hostages for your good behaviour,' he answered in his cold,mocking tone. 'If their principal satisfies me, good; they will gofree. If not, they die--to-morrow.'
'To-morrow?' she gasped.
'To-morrow,' he answered ruthlessly. 'Now I think we understand oneanother.'
She threw up her hand suddenly, as if she were about to vent on himall the passions which consumed her--the terror, rage, and shame whichswelled in her breast. But something in his gibing tone, something inthe set lines of his figure--she could not see his face--checked her.She let her hand fall in a gesture of despair, and shrank intoherself, shuddering. She looked at him as at a serpent--thatfascinated her. At last she murmured--
'You will not dare. What have they done to you?'
'Nothing,' he answered. 'It is not their affair; it is yours.'
For a moment after that they stood confronting one another while thesound of
the women sobbing in a corner, and the occasional jingle of abridle outside, alone broke the silence. Behind her the room was dark;behind him, through the open windows, lay the road, glimmering palethrough the dusk. Suddenly the door at her back opened, and a brightlight flashed on his face. It was Marie Wort bringing in a lamp. Noone spoke, and she set the lamp on the table, and going by him beganto close the shutters. Still the Countess stood as if turned to stone,and he stood watching her.
'Where are they?' she moaned at last, though he had already told her.
'In the camp,' he said.
'Can I--can I see them?' she panted.
'Afterwards,' he answered, with the smile of a fiend; 'when you are mywife.'
That added the last straw. She took two steps to the table, andsitting down blindly, covered her face with her hands. Her shouldersbegan to tremble, her head sank lower and lower on the table. Herpride was gone.
'Heaven help us!' she whispered in a passion of grief. 'Heaven helpus, for there is no help here!'
'That is better,' he said, eyeing her coldly. 'We shall soon come toterms now.'
In his exultation he went a step nearer to her. He was about to touchher--to lay his hand on her hair, believing his evil victory won, whensuddenly two dark figures rose like shadows behind her chair. Herecoiled, dropping his hand. In a moment a pistol barrel was thrustinto his face. He fell back another step.
'One word and you are a dead man!' a stern voice hissed in his ear.Then he saw another barrel gleam in the lamplight, and he stood still.
'What is this?' he said, looking from one to the other, his voicetrembling with rage.
'Justice!' the same speaker answered harshly. 'But stand still and besilent, and you shall have your life. Give the alarm, and you die,general, though we die the next minute. Sit down in that chair.'
He hesitated. But the two shining barrels converging on his head, thetwo grim faces behind them, were convincing; in a moment he obeyed.
My Lady Rotha: A Romance Page 23
