CHAPTER XVII
RATHER A SMALL MAN
"Besides the queene, he dearly loved a fair and comely dame." --_The Ballad of Fair Rosamond._
Jacqueline was protesting to a worried personage in Grand Uniform. Thepersonage was the Cerberus of the Emperor's antechamber, and he barredher way. He was newly a personage, and did not know Jacqueline.
"But, Senor Oficial de Ordenes," she insisted, "don't you see that if Iput my name in your old register there, the man will be shot while yourDignitaries are deciding to grant my audience!"
"Shot?" vaguely repeated the monarchial flunkey. He was a Mexican, andtook his unfamiliar responsibilities seriously. He turned to the Book ofCourt Etiquette on the centre table.
"I tell you," exclaimed the impatient girl, "you won't find anyprecedence for shooting in that thing. A doomed man hasn't any, take theword of the Dama Mayor."
"Dama Mayor?" This was more tangible, and the Grand Uniform seized on itgratefully. "But," and he quoted from the Ritual in triumph, "no Damacan present herself except on matters of service."
Jacqueline hedged guilefully. "Of course not," she agreed, "and it'sprecisely that why I must see His Majesty. It's about, about a piece ofvalencienne he wished me to bring the Empress from Europe."
The Oficial de Ordenes hesitated. "But the man to be shot?"
"No matter, the lace is my business."
With which assurance, the Grand Uniform presumed to announce la SenoritaMarquesa d'Aumerle. He reappeared at once from the inner apartment. TheEmperor's order to admit her that instant rather disturbed his faith inthe Ritual and the leisurely decorum it prescribed.
Hardly had she stepped within the portieres than someone caught herhand, and she saw Maximilian bending over it. There was an involuntarywarmth in his formal courtier grace. The only other occupant of thehacienda sala was Bebello, the greyhound. He sprang up from a Hungarianbear rug, and frisked about her joyfully. Her greeting to him wasequally sincere. Quietly releasing her hand, she patted him fondly, andcooed endearing French. "My little Tou-Tou! Pauvre petite bete!" Then,raising her head, she seemed to perceive His Majesty, "Isn't a bitolder, is he, sire?"
"Mademoiselle!" the man exclaimed reproachfully.
All the time he was staring at her. He stared at the tempestuousruffling of her petticoat, which had a wanton air that was mostdisturbing, at the rebosa tossed rakishly over her shoulder, with thewaistline beneath as languorously suggested as though she wereSpanish-born to rebosas, and lastly, at a freckle on the very tip of thecreamy nose. He admired extravagantly, but he was no less amazed to seeher at all. A moment before he had supposed her demurely breaking heartsat St. Cloud, and Paris under her feet. He knew how capable she was. Ithad happened to him. How he had sought her, before she left! And howmaddening she was! He could recall nothing of encouragement, and yet,blind, susceptible fool, he had never ceased to be encouraged. She was amaster craftsman, since her art was hidden. Then she had gone back toFrance; some said because of a note from Napoleon. But he was of thegloomy opinion that she had simply ceased to amuse herself. Yet for allthat, here she was again, and the astonished prince was eager to sufferyet more, if it amused her still.
She explained in a word, as though their meeting in the Huasteca werenothing extraordinary. Away from Mexico, she had discovered that shewanted to return to Mexico. The man left in Mexico would have auguredmuch from this, but at her matter-of-fact tone the glad light faded fromhis eyes. Jacqueline, by the way, was a good manager. She reminded himthat she had no mother nor father nor other relative in France--whichdisposed of France. Then, though he winced, she added that theexperiment of a New World court was a novel spectacle and she enjoyed itmore than the conventional affairs in Europe. Accordingly she wouldresume her place as first lady of honor. At Tampico she had wearied ofocean travel, and--well, that was all.
Maximilian shuddered. He imagined the terrors she must have encountered."But, mademoiselle, the bandits? You did not come alone through thatterrible coast country?"
"Of course not, sire. And that's why I reveal myself to Your Majesty.You are to save the person that brought me."
"Have mercy, mademoiselle. One must leap too far who hopes to understandyou."
"But there's nothing to understand. Your Majesty has only to keepColonel Dupin from shooting him."
Maximilian frowned heavily at the Frenchman's name.
"On the porch just now," Jacqueline explained, "when you finishedspeaking, he--the man I am speaking of--announced that he wanted to seeyou, but the Tiger drew his pistols to shoot him if he moved."
"Then naturally your friend did not move?"
"Your Majesty does not know him. But he stopped for me."
"Were you so afraid Dupin would lose his prisoner?"
"I had no desire to see the prisoner commit suicide. But I had topromise him that he should see Your Majesty later."
"To beg----"
"He is not one to whine for his life, sire. It is other business hemeans. But Your Majesty need not hear his business. Your Majesty needonly _see_ him. Besides, it would hardly be court usage, grantinghim an audience so informally, would it?"
"N-o, but if I am not to hear him, why should I see him?"
"To save his life, parbleu!"
"And why, since he is not concerned about that?"
"But I am, sire, and I count on Your Majesty to help me repay anobligation."
Maximilian was quick at clemency, but no one likes to have hisweaknesses played upon.
"Mademoiselle, who is this man? What has he done?"
"An American, sire." Maximilian frowned. "A Confederate, I believe." Thefrown vanished. "And Colonel Dupin believes him to be an accomplice ofRodrigo Galan. But he is not. He fought Rodrigo Galan, in--in mybehalf."
Maximilian frowned again. "And so," he said, trying to do it lightly, "Ihave this unknown American to thank for the pleasure of seeing you,mademoiselle? Otherwise, I should not have known that you were here,and----"
He stopped. The gray eyes were laughing at him. Was his jealousy then soapparent? And was it jealousy? Evidently, since she had discovered it.And that vexed him, because he had supposed that he was hiding his piqueunder a great self control. Angrily he stepped toward her, but the saucyeyes only grew merrier. Then his mood changed. He resolved grimly onopen fighting. He meant to have either decisive honors or a decisiverepulse. For it was his tantalizing doubts of her that made her laugh athim. Yet, when he spoke, he could not help the quaver of entreaty in hisvoice.
"Mademoiselle, tell me, _why_ have you returned?"
The question was so abrupt and so stern, she thought in a flash that hemust have penetrated that Napoleonic intrigue which had flung her backupon the Western shores. But Maximilian believed he knew another reasonfor her pallor, and was encouraged.
"You have already given one answer, mademoiselle," he hurried on, "andin too great a humility to dare hope it otherwise, I took you at yourword. But now that you mock me--ah, you shall confess, you are back inMexico on _my_ account!"
"And would that merit this august displeasure, sire?"
Her words sprang from relief; he suspected nothing of her secretmission. So the color might flood to her cheeks again, the mischief toher eyes, and with it a most perilous daring.
For the Hapsburg, it was coy surrender.
"Mademoiselle--Jacqueline!"
Her name! The old nickname fondly given her in childhood, when she was atorment, and an anarchist to all law, and got innumerable scoldings, andbasked unperturbed in love and adoration! Her name, that only Mexico hadtainted! For the first time it passed his lips. But the sweet, quaintsyllables had long been in his thoughts, with something, too, of theearly worship in their bestowal.
Curiously enough, a whimsical hardy figure in homespun gray took acuteshape in her mind's eye. The features were oddly sharp and clear. Therewas even the rough trooper's disdain, which had been in his expressionwhen first he saw her, but which she had not notic
ed at the time. Shebrushed the vision aside haughtily, as she would have done had the manhimself intruded. But she could not stem so easily the wave of selfdisgust that swept her back from this other man, a prince of Europe. Andwhen she smothered that self-abasement, it was a matter of will. Sherecalled her interview with the Sphinx in the Tuileries. She recalledher country, and the empire she meant to win, a gift to France, worthyof Napoleon, of the Great Napoleon. Then her will became as a masteroutside of self, and horrid in its iron cruelty. She half lifted herhand, and allowed the royal prince to possess it.
The tapestry behind them parted and fell. A light step crossing the roomwas suddenly arrested, and a low bewildered cry, half stifled in theutterance, arrested them.
"Fernando!"
The Emperor straightened and wheeled. Turning round, Jacqueline placidlysurveyed a young girl, and her brows arched. She was not deceived. Therewas recognition in the startled gaze of the newcomer, and of Maximiliantoo. Only for Jacqueline did the situation hold aught that was amusing.
She was Mexican, a beautiful Mexican. She might have been Spanish too,or Moorish even, or perhaps to say that she seemed a gentle, droopingEgyptian would give the better idea of her dark loveliness. Under herskin, under a faintest tinge of brown, the rich blood drove its colorthrough, and blending with that other shade, made the cheeks a duskyruby, and seemingly softer and warmer. Her figure had prettily roundedcurves, and her wine-red dress and the filmy black shawl over hershoulders deepened the tender, trusting depths of two large black eyes.The long lashes were wet with tears. She looked once at the calm Frenchwoman, as though afraid of her, and then at Maximilian, and atMaximilian alone. Her gaze was vacant, groping, non-comprehending, yetwith a something of heartbreak in the beginning of comprehension.
To the Hapsburg came the dignity of proud generations, exalted abovemere human scrutiny. He turned to Jacqueline, "As you see,mademoiselle," he said coldly, "the stupid lackeys outside have admitteda second visitor. If you will excuse us----"
"But Fernando----"
This time the girl's moan throbbed with questioning. She was as far fromunderstanding as before. But she noted unconsciously his princelybearing, his European dress, and the luxury about him in the transformedhacienda sala. Her eyes, in spite of grief and doubts, shone with timid,admiring love. "Que elegante!" she breathed. "Oh, is he not, truly, acaballero!"
"Fernando?" murmured Jacqueline. "Bonte divine, this _is_ bucolic!"
"But Fernando," the girl persisted, "who is there to--to admit me? Ionly come from my room." With a tremulous gesture she indicated a doorwhich the imperial scene shifters had covered with portieres.Maximilian's surprise at the existence of such a door was genuine. "AndI find," she cried, "I find you here, you, Fernando?"
"There, there, senorita," said Jacqueline kindly, "His Majesty, Iimagine, can explain----"
"Majesty?" exclaimed the girl. "Don Fernando--Majesty?" Yet a third timeshe repeated it, as by rote; and, very slowly, understanding grew intothe words, and with understanding, terror. The dark innocent eyes wentappealingly from one to the other, and the lids began to flutter wildlyin a kind of spasm. "Majesty? Majesty?" Then, suddenly, she flung bothhands to her face, and a piteous shivering racked her body.
"Catch her, stupid!" cried Jacqueline. "Don't you see, the child isfainting!"
But it was into Jacqueline's readier arms that she fell, and it wasJacqueline who let her slip gently into the high-back chair that was theimperial throne en voyage, under the claws of the oaken Hapsburggriffins.
"Get water! quick--Majesty, you--your cologne flasks!"
"MARIA DE LA LUZ""The tapestry behind them parted and fell"]
A mist was in the prince's eyes. "Pobrecita, pobrecita," he mutteredhelplessly.
On Jacqueline depended what was next to be done. She ran to the door bywhich the girl had entered. "See, there's a corridor here," she cried,"and that must be her room, there at the end, where the door is open.Help me carry her--unless," and she deliberately punctuated her scorn,"unless Your Majesty desires to call for aid?"
But His Majesty was so far from desiring anything of the kind that henodded gratefully, impatiently. So to her own room they bore her betweenthem, and laid her on the bed there. A pewter waiter with napkin andcoffee service was on a little table. But the tiny loaf of pan de huevolay untouched. Her thoughts rather than appetite had possessed the girlwhen she awoke that morning, and they had kept her until she emerged tostumble upon an emperor in her father's house.
"Out of here," ordered Jacqueline. "I am going to call the servants."She had no sympathy for his wistful, forlorn gazing.
"It's the end, the end of my idyl," he murmured.
"_Are_ you going?"
He came nearer instead, and looked in profound melancholy at the girl.The ruby flush was no longer there, and the face was olive and waxen.The lips were parted, baring teeth that were marvelously white. Theshawl had fallen to the floor, and an ivory cross on a chain about herneck caught his eye. He turned it over in his hand, and on the gold,where the chain was attached, he saw an inscription.
"Maria de la Luz," he read. "So, that is her name. But I never asked it.Identity would have blighted the idyl."
"Sire," Jacqueline protested angrily, "this poor child needs help. Ishall----"
"One moment, mademoiselle, I wish to say that I still do not know whoshe is."
Then, with a last sorrowful look, he turned back to his apartment ofstate.
Jacqueline's lip curled as she watched him go.
"And you wish me to find out who she is?" she apostrophized his back."But I shall not tell you. And she--no, she is not the kind that would,knowing who _you_ are."
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