XX
A SOUND AT MIDNIGHT
Two days later a royal banquet followed by a cotillion celebrated thecoming of the King. The monarch was in the white uniform of a FieldMarshal, above which his handsome face rose in striking contrast. Hiscollar, heavy with gold embroidery, seemed held in place by the Star ofthe Lion. At his right hand sat Trusia, resplendent and warmly human,while flanking him on the left was the grizzled Sutphen. Carter's placeas an aide was far down the side of the table. Only by leaning forward,and glancing past those intervening, could he get a glimpse of themarvelous woman, who, young as she was, had made this event apossibility.
Sallies, laughter, repartee came floating down to him. A momentary pangof envy shot through him that the royal party, which to him meantTrusia, should be in such high feather. Owing to his remoteness it wasimpossible for him to participate in their mirth, so he resigned himselfto the duty of entertaining the daughter of an elderly nobleman who wasunder his escort.
"And you," he said, "you, too, are delighted with the dashing King.Confess."
"I am afraid," she laughed back, "that all girls, even in America, dreamwhat their ideal king should be."
"Your sex's ideal man?" he inquired quizzically.
"Oh, no, monsieur," she replied with grave, wide eyes. "Our ideal man isonly a prince."
"Then your ideal king must be something more than a man," he said insoberer mood as she unfolded to him the working of a maiden mind, whichis always awe-inspiring.
"Yes," she responded, "something less than a god."
"And the maidens of Krovitch, what have they dreamed?"
She glanced up to see if his expression matched the apparent gravity ofhis words. Reassured by the entire absence of banter in his face, sheanswered him sincerely. She was too guileless to analyze his possiblemental attitude save by these superficial indications. "A demigod likeour ancient sovereign, Stovik First," she responded reverently.
"So you have deified His Majesty already?"
"God save His Majesty from ill," she answered, "but I think he is veryhuman--and handsome." She blushed uneasily. A merry peal of laughterfrom the group about the King drew their attention. Leaning her elbow onthe cloth, the girl turned her head to learn the cause of the hilarity.Carter, thankful for the opportunity, employed the pause in studyingTrusia. The Duchess's eyes were sparkling like some lustrous jet. Thedeep flush of the jacqueminot burned in her cheeks as she smilinglyregarded Natalie, the heroine of the jest. Was all this scintillation amask, he wondered, or had the coming of the King--the remembrance of hervow--driven the recollection of that momentary surrender in Paris fromher heart? He sighed. The girl next him turned in apology.
"Forgive me, monsieur, for forgetting you. But Her Grace--is she notbeautiful? When she makes us girls forget, is it any wonder the youthsof Krovitch are oblivious of our poor existence?"
"She has had many suitors, then?" Carter to save him could not refrainfrom the question.
"A legion," she answered; "but all have withdrawn nobly in favor of theKing. Even Paul Zulka and Major Sobieska. They are transferring to himtheir lives and their swords to please her."
A slight commotion at the head of the table again caused them to turntheir heads in that direction. The King was rising.
"He is going to announce his betrothal," suggested the girl at Carter'sside. Carter's face grew grim and white. But such was not the royalintent. Being assured that all present understood French, King Stovik ina short speech thanked the people of Krovitch for their devotion to hisHouse. He promised that, if destiny placed him on their throne, he wouldtreat his power as a trust for them.
"For this day at least we give ourselves over to the joy of meeting you.To-morrow comes the fearful care of kings. You have labored faithfully,to-night be merry," he said in conclusion. He lifted a bubbling glassfrom the table. "Our battle cry, my lords, is 'God and Krovitch.'"
There was an hysteric outburst. Men and women leaped to their feet todrain the toast. When the King regained his seat the cheers subsided.Slowly, impressively Trusia arose at his side, the light of inspirationradiating from her glorious self like the warm light that comes from thesun.
"There can be only one other toast after that, my people," she said."God save the King." Like a real prayer, solemn and soul-felt, arose aresponsive, "God save the King." Then deliberately, that the glassesmight never be profaned with a less loyal toast, the guests snapped thefragile stems between their fingers and cast the dainty bowls to thefloor in tinkling fragments.
At a signal from Stovik the banquet was over. He arose, and, takingTrusia by the hand, escorted her to the great hall to lead the cotillionwith him. The royal pair having departed, the guests arose and, in theorder of their precedence, filed into the ballroom in the train of theirKing.
The first figure, patriotically named the "Flag of Krovitch," was dancedby Stovik, Trusia and seven other couples all nearly related to royalty,each person waving a small silken flag bearing the Lion of their race.
Carter, from the throng, with hungry eyes saw but one wondrous form,supported on the arm of royalty, glide through the graceful maze. A lullcame in the music and Stovik, bowing the Duchess to her seat, turnedwith evident relish to a coquettish brunette who had assured him thatthey were first cousins.
Having fulfilled the demands of Court etiquette in yielding first placeto her sovereign, Trusia was now free to indulge any other preferencefor partners for the ensuing figures. The American glanced covetouslytoward the place where Sobieska and Zulka stood, expectantly awaitingher invitation. With a mild negation of her head she passed them, movingto where Carter was engaged talking to the Countess Muhlen-Sarkey.Seeing her approach, his heart beat with a foolish hope and his remarksto his matronly auditor, took on a perplexing shade of incoherence.Evidently Trusia shyly expected him to accept the courtesy; as through amyriad phantoms, where only she was real, he threaded his way to herside.
"You are the stranger within our gates," she explained as in rhythmicunison they drifted into the cadence of the waltz.
"Have I awakened," he inquired, "or is this part of the dream I had inthe Boulevard S. Michel?"
"It must have been a dream, monsieur," she said with sad finality. "Itis folly to encumber one's life with useless dreams."
"Your Grace wishes it?" he asked in halting syllables wrenched from aheavy heart.
"For your own happiness, now," she answered with a meaning nod towardthe King.
"But," he pleaded, "it was such a beautiful dream."
"Dreams are--sometimes. Then we awake." He felt the slight tremoragainst his arm as she spoke.
"I wish," he sighed impotently, "that you were an American girl."
She smiled mechanically to hide the sadness welling in her breast."Wishes," she murmured resignedly, "are too near akin to dreams for meto indulge them. Besides I have a country to hope for. Why should I joinyou in such a wish?"
"Have you, then, realized your wishes in His Majesty?" It was a brutalthing to say; he saw it when too late to recall the words which hadpassed his lips.
She shrank as if struck. Her eyes spoke the volumes of her appeal. Theyread in his a hopeless prayer for forgiveness, and graciously, gently,she pressed his arm under her hand as a sweet upward glance assured himof absolution. Like the sigh in his own soul, sweet and low, the musicdied out. The figure was finished.
Pleading fatigue, Carter sought the quarters assigned him in the castle.His senses were awhirl, his spirits high in the chimera that Trusiacared for him. Had he been compelled to remain in attendance he feltcertain that he would have bruited his glad tidings abroad. Between thethrobs of hope, however, with growing insistence threaded the stingingpulses of despair and pity; despair that destiny would never give her tohim as wife, pity that she should sacrifice her own sweet self to a manwho had no real affection for her. Hers was a nature, he well knew,requiring the full measure of tenderness to bloom in its fullest beauty.Believing her beyond his reach he felt a sudden overpowering sense
ofutter loneliness. Fully clad as he was, he flung himself upon his bed,but his arm, his breast, still tingled with the contact from the dance.Sleep held aloof from him. Darkness was no refuge from her temptingface, for, visible to his soul, it stood between him and the gloom.
From the distant hall, augmenting his restlessness, came occasionalsnatches of music mingled with the hum of voices. The hours passed onwhile he tossed nervously on his bed. Then the music stopped. Laughterand farewells floated up to him. In a few minutes all was silence savefor the footfalls of the sentries on their posts.
Somewhere in its boat of song, the nightingale was floating on the seaof darkness. Drawn aimlessly by the pathos of the songster's lay, Carterwandered to the window to gaze out into the moonless midnight. Rackinghis quivering heart, his imagination dwelt on a pictured life withTrusia, emphasizing the sweet moments of her complete surrender.
Time lost all measure in his rhapsody. He might have stood leaning overthe sill a day or a second, when a sound, persistent and murmuring,haled him back to mundane things. Intermittently, but with growingvolume, from somewhere beyond the wall of black, came the echoes of anarmy in passage. He could separate the different noises. That, herecognized by its deep grumbling noise, was cannon; the rattling sound,like an empty hay wagon, was caissons, while the muffled, thudding echowas cavalry at the trot. The force, apparently a heavy one, did not seemto be coming from Schallberg. He leaned far out of the windowchallenging the darkness with his peering eyes. Dimly he could descrythe plateau about the castle with its low bastions at the cliff's edge.Indefinite shapes pacing along the wall he knew to be Krovitzersentries. He fancied he heard a challenge on the distant road, a halt,then the invisible army took up its march again.
Straining every sense, he concluded that the force was moving from, andnot toward, the frontier. Sutphen, then, for some unknown reason, musthave consented to withdraw part of his none too strong army from pointswhich Carter believed to be greatly in need of reinforcement. He debatedwith himself, therefore, the military necessity of confirming theseimpressions. Knowing, however, how prone to offense the plethoricColonel could be, and reassured by the fancied challenges, herelinquished the idea. Growing drowsy with the extra mental exertion, hedivested himself of his clothing and was soon in bed and asleep.
During his slumber another detachment passed, then another, while justbefore dawn a heavy force of infantry at double time went down the road.
Carter arose late the next morning. After a hasty breakfast, too early,however, for the other participants in the evening's festivities, hebuckled on his sabre and, taking his fatigue cap, strolled out upon theterrace. He found the Minister of Private Intelligence pacing moodilyback and forth on the stone flags. Acknowledging his salute, Carterstopped and spoke.
"Anything doing?" he inquired with a cheerful air.
Sobieska nodded. "Zulka's in command of Schallberg. Sutphen with a smallforce occupies Markos due east of the capital. Lesky's Rifles haveseized Bagos on a line with both at the western frontier. This completesour alignment on the south. Wings have been thrown out from both Markosand Bagos to the extreme north, making a monster 'E' of which we are themiddle arm."
Carter betrayed surprise. "Well, what force was that which passed duringthe night?" he asked. "I thought you said Sutphen had only a smallcommand on the frontier, yet there were two or three parks of heavyartillery went by."
"I didn't hear them," responded Sobieska, "but Josef reported them asreinforcements from the Rifles for the frontier. There may have beensome cannon, but not as many as you think. He dare not weaken hisstrength that way."
"It seemed to me," said Carter dubiously, "that they marched from thefrontier, not toward it. But how did Josef come to report it? Where wasthe officer of the guard?"
Sobieska turned an indulgently commiserating smile on Carter.
"Haven't you heard?" he asked as he lightly flicked the ash from hismorning cigar. Carter pleaded ignorance.
The Privy Counselor drew close to his shoulder and spoke in aconfidential tone. "Josef has made himself indispensable to His Majesty.He begged for, and yesterday received, a commission as Colonel ofHussars as a return for services in restoring the King to his own.Whether or not at his own request, he was yesterday appointed Officer ofthe Guard. It was in the line of his duty that he reported." He nextspoke as to one in whom he could safely confide. "I don't like the lookof things there," he said, pointing toward the frontier. "There weren'ttoo many men, in my opinion, to hold it as it was. Now they havewithdrawn part of that force. Unless they can mobilize quickly on thisroad we are holding wide open arms for Russia's forces. However," hesaid hopefully, "last night's movement may have been to cure the evil."
Setting them down to the vagaries of darkness, Carter dismissed hissurmises of the night before as untenable in the face of thisexplanation. His companion continued his promenade nervously along thefront of the castle. Carter joined him.
"There is another matter," said the Krovitzer with a slight contractionof his brows, "that is causing me some little annoyance. I am verypunctilious about some things and exact promptitude as the greatestqualification in my subordinates. I should have had dispatches fromLondon and Paris two days ago. I am out here now waiting for Max toarrive with them. It's a minor matter, but it has made me uneasy."
"Information concerning Carrick?" Carter queried.
"Yes," Sobieska replied. "What is that?" he asked with more than usualanimation as the dull sound of distant booming interrupted them.
"Krupp guns," Carter answered, as much in surprise as for theinformation of the other. "Russia must have awakened at last. Soundslike a general engagement," he said as the volume of the distant soundsincreased.
"We'll have to inform His Majesty. Hope he is awake." Sobieska startedfor the door. Carter lingered, for just then Trusia appeared in theentrance.
She seemed a part of the sweet, pure morning. Clad in an informal ridinghabit, such as he had frequently met in early rides in Central Park, inher starched waist, khaki skirt and broad-brimmed felt, she made acharming picture against the grim doorway.
"Plotting?" she asked with a gay little smile, shaking her bamboo cropat them. "You look like surprised conspirators. Major Carter, I'll haveto claim your escort this morning. Casimir is still asleep. I'm afraidLady Natalie danced him to death last night, the will-o'-the-wisp. HisMajesty has his duties for some hours to come, as I can tell by thatportentous frown on Sobieska's face. I, alone, once so busy, now findtime hanging heavy on my hands. Can you come?"
"My only duty, Highness, is to serve you. That makes any duty apleasure."
"Rather well done," she said with head on one side critically, "just atrifle stiff. I saw Carrick at the stable and anticipated youracquiescence. He is saddling a mount for you. Here he comes now," sheadded, as the clatter of hoofs on the flags approached from thedirection of the stables.
The Cockney approached leading two horses. He held Trusia's foot as sheleaped lightly into the saddle. After he was satisfied that she wasproperly mounted he came to the off side of Carter's horse. There was arequest written in every line of the earnest face.
"Well?" asked Carter bending down from his saddle.
"May I go too, sir? Just as groom, sir. Please, sir?" he added, seeing ashade of dissent upon his master's face. "The truth is, sir, I 'ad a baddream last night. Don't laugh," he pleaded as the corners of Carter'smouth twitched suggestively, "don't laugh. It was too real, too'orrible. I thought an army rode over you and 'Er Grace and tramped youdown. You called out to me to 'elp. I could 'ave saved you, but was toofar away. Let me go, sir; just as groom. I'll keep far be'ind." Thefellow was honestly distressed, so Carter sent him to Trusia, who gavehim the desired permission. Then for the first time the Major noted thatCarrick wore his sabre. The holster by his saddle held a revolver.
Trusia: A Princess of Krovitch Page 20
