Princess Zara

by Ross Beeckman

  CHAPTER VIII

  THE PRINCESS' ORIENTAL GARDEN

  In order better to carry out the plans I had made it was necessary thatI should depart from the palace and I secured apartments in arespectable but quiet section of the city, where I established myselfunder the name of Dubravnik; and it was generally understood by thosewho came in contact with me that I was a pardoned exile who had beenpermitted to return under stipulated conditions, as such men aresometimes, though rarely, allowed to do. In the mean time I hadgathered around me several certain individuals whom I had known andemployed in the past, and whom I knew from experience that I couldtrust; and there was not one Russian among them. The Russian may betrusted always wherever his heart is involved and his politicalconscience is at rest, but never unless those forces are working insympathy with the employment of his hands and head.

  I sent to Paris for Michael O'Malley whose long residence there hadoutwardly transformed him from an Irishman to a Frenchman, and who forconvenience spelled his name Malet, thus retaining the sound withoutthe substance. He opened a cafe, which because of its excellencespeedily became the resort of the higher officers of the Russian armystationed at St. Petersburg. Every one of the waiters in hisestablishment were spies in his employ brought with him from Paris, andnot one of them knew of my existence. Thus they did their work in thedark, but they did it well. Another Irishman, Tom Coyle, who lookedlike a Russian, established a cab stand on the English plan, and he hada small army of men under him who worked in the same way as Malet'sservants. A Frenchman and his wife--their names were St. Cyr--ran ahigh class intelligence office, and furnished valets, maids, cooks,coachmen, etc., for the best families at the Russian capitol. I had oneassistant who taught singing to the nobility, and another who was amaster at arms and gave lessons in the science of handling all kinds ofweapons. In the less pretentious quarters of the city I had proprietorsof fourth rate cafes on my list; also loungers, loafers, seemingdrunkards, laborers. But more important than these I succeeded insecuring for one of my best men--an American--the management of thecity Messenger Service; and one by one he contrived to replace themessengers by others of his own selection, until many of them wereunknowingly members of my staff. Unknowingly, mind you, for thereinexisted much of the secret of my power. My workers did not know whatthey did. Canfield really did great work for me while he held thatposition, and I must not neglect to give him credit for it.

  O'Malley, Coyle, the St. Cyrs and Canfield were really therefore theseveral component parts of my immediate staff and those five were theonly persons among all my hundreds of workers who knew Dubravnik to betheir chief; and it is a perfectly safe statement to say that in allSt. Petersburg, nay in all the world at that time, there were but ninepersons living who had the least knowledge or even suspicion of mybusiness; the nine were the czar, Prince Michael, the five alreadynamed, myself and Moret now in solitary confinement although in acomfortably appointed room in one of the prisons.

  It is well that I should say a word or two in reference to theseassistants of mine, in passing.

  O'Malley was an Irishman of the finest type of bluff and honestmanhood. I have known him and tried him through many a difficulty wherehis sterling qualities of character, his rugged honesty of purpose, hisunfailing loyalty and devotion to me and his uncanny qualities as aninvestigator had endeared him to me both professionally and personallybeyond the expression of mere words to describe it. I knew that I couldrely upon him absolutely in all emergencies and that he was utterlyfearless in the face of any danger that might present itself. Byopening the cafe described, patronized by the elite of the Russiancapital he merely followed out a plan long before undertaken in Parisfor a like purpose and through the workings of his waiters and otheremployees he possessed sources of information and facilities forinvestigation unprecedented in their far reaching possibilities. Thereis many a whispered word and undertoned conversation carried on at asupper table over the coffee or a bottle of wine which finds its wayinto the ears of servitors and O'Malley's duties consisted not alone inpiecing together after they were supplied to him these scraps ofconversation, but in having his workers spy upon certain personageswhen they appeared at the cafe and so anticipate secrets which theymight have to unfold. Even he had lesser men in authority under him andmany of those who were almost directly under his employ believed thatthey were allied to the regular secret police and did not know of theiremployer's official capacity.

  Tom Coyle, a huge rough bearded Irishman who in outward appearancemight have passed anywhere for a Russian, was not less efficient orless loved and trusted by me than O'Malley. As a proprietor of a cabstand every driver was a minion of his and served him precisely asO'Malley's waiters did their chief; and it may readily be determinedthat the power thus exerted for making reports, for knowing thedistinction and the engagements of certain individuals was far reachingindeed. Coyle also had served me in the execution of many delicatemissions of the past and I could depend upon him almost as absolutelyas I could upon myself.

  The two St. Cyrs, husband and wife, were equally important factors inmy work; indeed they provided the most far reaching assistance I had,for if you will stop to consider a moment and will realize howabsolutely at the mercy of house servants the ordinary citizen iscompelled to be, you will understand how an employment agency operatedfor the purposes of espionage can discover and reveal secrets whichotherwise might never find their way outside the family circle. Thereis no written document, no locked bureau drawer, no hidden pocket, nosecret hiding place into which the prying eyes and fingers of maid orvalet, house maid and general servitor cannot penetrate. These peopledid their work for the St. Cyrs and reported to them, knowing nothingwhatever of why they made those reports or to whom they ultimatelyfound their way.

  Canfield was also invaluable. As managing director of the MessengerService with many of his employees working as spies, it was acomparatively easy matter to intercept letters and messages and toobtain a knowledge of the contents of documents through their skilledefforts.

  I have given this resume of conditions as I established them to avoidgoing into detail respecting the sources of the information I made useof, but it will be understood now how thorough was my knowledgewhenever I chose to exert it.

  During the time that passed as I have described, I became a factor inSt. Petersburg society. Supposed to possess unlimited wealth(accumulated, by the way, in Mexican mines, for it sounded well), withthe crest of a noble family then extinct and half forgotten ornamentingmy cards and stationery, and introduced by Prince Michael, who wasknown to be high in favor with the czar, palace doors were thrown wideopen to receive me. I was young then, and women said that I washandsome, while men found me genial, companionable, and their master atmost games and with every sort of weapon; things which men respect evenif they do resent them.

  The regular police systems, even to the mysterious Third Section whichhas no equivalent or parallel in the world, were entirely ignorant ofthe existence of my espionage, and many times during the months thatfollowed I fell under suspicion. My power was so much greater thantheirs that I possessed one abundant advantage, that of knowing theirspies; and many of these, from time to time, I purposely allowed tobecome inmates of my house, from which they inevitably carried away theprecise information that I wished them to obtain.

  By the time the organization of the fraternity was completed, I hadinformation in my possession which if it had gone to the emperor, wouldhave created a social upheaval such as has never been witnessed inhistory. But many of the most anarchistic and irrepressible leaders ofthe nihilists were quietly arrested and sent where they would berendered harmless, and others who were less violent, I left undisturbedand in seeming security, knowing that they would ultimately lead me tothe point I wished to attain, the very root of the evil which I haddetermined to eradicate; but it was six months after my arrival in St.Petersburg when I met with the adventure which I regarded as the mostremarkable of my experience, and which is really the reason for thiss
tory.

  "Well, Derrington," the prince said to me one night shortly after ourreturn from a function of more than ordinary prominence. He had stoppedat my rooms for a smoke and a chat before retiring. "Have you receivedan invitation from the princess?"

  "What princess?" I asked.

  "Zara de Echeveria, the most beautiful woman in Europe." He was smilingnow, and seemed to take it for granted that I should know to whom hereferred.

  "The name is Spanish," I said; and I vaguely recalled having heard itsomewhere before that day. But evidently it had made only slightimpression upon my memory.

  "Yes; her father was a Spaniard, but she is a Russian of the Russians.Her title is given her by courtesy, from her mother's family. Is itpossible that you do not know about her?"

  "Quite."

  "It is not remarkable, after all, for she left the city shortly afteryour arrival and has only just returned. I paid my respects to heryesterday, and took the liberty of suggesting that she add your name toher list. Look among your cards, and see if she has not sent you one."

  It was among the first that my hand lighted upon and naturally we fellto discussing her. The rhapsodies concerning her in which the princeindulged led me to interpose a remark, for which I was instantly sorry.

  "One would think that you were in love with her," I said.

  His face fell instantly, and for a moment he was visibly confused, butat last, with a conscious smile, he said, boldly:

  "Well, why not? I do not know that it is necessary to deny it since sheis aware of it herself; and so, I think, is the whole city. I am abachelor, and not turned fifty. Twenty-five years is not an impassablegulf, is it?"

  "Certainly not, my dear prince. My remark was an ill timed pleasantrywhich you must pardon. Is she, then, so young?"

  "Twenty-five."

  "Let me see; her ball is for to-morrow--or rather, to-night, since itis now morning."

  "Yes. Will you go with me? I will then have the pleasure of presentingyou."

  "Thank you; yes."

  I did not see the prince again until he called for me on his way to thehouse of the princess where we found the parlors thronged, so that itwas with difficulty that we presently made our way among the massedguests to the point where Zara de Echeveria was receiving her friends.On our way to greet her, Prince Michael encountered many acquaintanceswho claimed a word with him, so at last he drew me aside and we waiteduntil there was a lull in the efforts of the crush around her; then heled me forward.

  "So glad to know you, Mr. Dubravnik," she said, in my own language."The prince has told me that you have spent a long time abroad, andprefer to speak English. I am also fond of conversing in that tongue.Will you be seated?" She made a place for me beside her, and we weresoon engaged in conversation.

  The Princess Zara!

  It is frequently the case that we meet people who antagonize us themoment a glance or a handshake is exchanged, while our innerconsciousness offers no explanation for the reasonless antipathy; onthe other hand Fate brings us sometimes in contact with personalitieswhich at once appeal to a sixth sense which is unexplainable andindefinable, but which seems to comprehend more than the combined fiveeducated and trained sensibilities. What is that sixth sense? Who cantell? I only know that in one moment I felt as if I had known theprincess all my life, and I knew instinctively that the same influenceswere affecting her.

  I will not attempt to describe her, more than to afford a mere outlinefor something that was indescribable, for the charm which pervaded theatmosphere around her was felt rather than seen. It would be unfair tocall her beautiful, as the prince had done, for that word comprehendsmerely an outward and visible sign, and with the Princess Zara,although her beauty was striking, it was the least of her attractions.I had thought that I was born and had lived, devoid of that form ofself consciousness which is called diffidence, although it is only anexpression of egotism; but for the first time in my life I found myselfill at ease, and wondering if I was appearing to advantage. I wasconscious of myself; and what was stranger still I realized that thistrained society beauty, the undoubted heroine of unnumbered conquests,was as restless as I was.

  Princess Zara!

  The expression as I write it brings vividly back to me the moment whenI stood beside her that night amid the throng of guests surrounding us,but nevertheless conscious only of her presence. There are someoccasions in the lives of men which they are not inclined to dwell uponor even to speak about; which they preserve jealously, as secrets intheir own hearts, selfishly indisposed to acquaint others with themlest some of the magic of the actual moment, reinduced byretrospection, may be lost in the telling. But I could not recite thehistory of my experiences in St. Petersburg at that time withoutuncovering my innermost soul, as it was affected and influenced by Zarade Echeveria, whose charm of manner, whose redundant beauty and powersof fascination, were beyond all effort at description.

  Her eyes were like stars, and yet were not too brilliant. Glowing intheir depths somewhere beyond visible ken, was the assurance ofunspeakable promise; and there seemed to emanate from her personality aglowing enthusiasm which thrilled whomever came into her presence.

  The mere outward description of personal beauty will be foreverinadequate to describe the emotions that influence a man, when he seesfor the first time, the feminine perfection of creation which he isdestined to adore. One may be fascinated, attracted, by any one of manyqualities, or by all of them combined; one may discover perfection ofform or feature, and may accept these suggestions as comprising allthat is necessary to engender that quality within us which we calllove; but nearly always one finds that the imitation has been acceptedfor the real, and that it has been so accepted and claimed only becausethe genuine has never appeared.

  But whenever a man finds the real one, whenever it is his good fortuneto encounter the genuine article, there remains no doubt in his soul ofits reality. He sees and feels and knows. There is no denying theabsoluteness of it. It is a perfect knowledge brought home to him withan absoluteness, which for the moment, is almost paralyzing in itseffect, and the immediate consequences of which are utterly beyondcomprehension.

  Standing there in the presence of Zara de Echeveria, surrounded as wewere by throngs of guests, interrupted frequently as it was quitenatural we should be, we two were yet as utterly alone as if we hadbeen standing upon a solitary rock in the midst of a waste of watersbeyond which the vision could not penetrate.

  We were utterly alone in a world by ourselves; and the strange part ofit was that we both seemed to realize the truth, although neither of usat that moment could contemplate the understanding of the other.

  Until I drove with the prince to that house where she received, mywhole mind and intelligence had been centered upon the work I had to doat the Russian capitol; but having passed the portals of Zara's palace,and being taken into her presence, made the whole world appear suddenlysmall indeed, and left all that was great, and good, and worthattaining, encompassed in the very small space in which she stood.

  There was a sense of completeness to it all which is inexplicable;there was a compelling force emanating from her, like the energy ofradium, unseen but all powerful, which dominated me as surely, thoughnonetheless subtly, as the sun dominates the planets.

  I have never remembered the words that passed between us at that firstinterview, for the reason that whatever I said, was utteredsubconsciously, and became a mere incident in the great event. Themeeting itself was the event. We had come together from different partsof the world. We were born of different nationalities. We had beennurtured differently, and every impulse of our respective lives hadbeen trained in different grooves, and for different motives; and yetout of that chaos of differences had happened the wonderful thing ofour meeting.

  I suppose we talked as other people talk, who meet and part for thefirst time as we met and parted then, if we were to be judged from thestandpoint and observation of others. To me it was an epoch, focusedinto a moment of time. To her I now kno
w that it was the same.

  I was suddenly conscious that there were many others who were waitingto claim her attention, and I got upon my feet.

  "So soon, Mr. Dubravnik?" she said.

  "Necessarily," I replied. "I cannot take to myself all the delight ofthe evening."

  "You will return?"

  "If I may--when you are less occupied."

  I was acquainted with nearly all the guests and was stopped a dozentimes on my way across the salon to where the prince was conversingwith a knot of men, and as I glanced backward towards the princess witheach pause I made, I always met her eyes fixed upon me--unconsciouslyuntil they met my gaze--even though she was engaged with the people whoformed the group around her.

  I did not seek the prince, after all. I turned aside realizing that Iwould rather be alone with the pleasurable thrill which still pulsed inmy veins, than to crush it out with society talk, which was myparticular aversion. I wandered on through the rooms, pausing for amoment here and there to exchange greetings with acquaintances, and atlast emerged upon the glass-covered garden which was a miniature forestof shrubbery, palms and floral miracles. It was a spacious place dimlylighted by lamps that were shaded by red and green and yellow globes,and it was traversed by paths that were carpeted with Eastern rugs, andbordered by alluring nooks so daintily arranged and so suggestive ofall things sentimental as to be indescribable. The garden was anOriental paradise, blooming in the midst of a Russian winter; and Ithought with a smile, a dangerous place for a bachelor even though hewere alone--for it set him to thinking. As if to render the contrasteven greater there was a furious snowstorm raging outside, and I couldhear the wind howling and shrieking past the house, and the rattle ofthe snow as it hurled itself into fragments against the glass coveringof the enclosure. I wandered on down the path I had taken as far as theextremity of the garden, and then turned into other paths. I pausedonce to light a cigar, and went on again, hither and thither,unheedingly; but at last I entered one of the Turkish nooks andcomposed myself comfortably among the cushions. There I gave myself upto the deliciousness of the hour, for no other word can describe it.There had seemed not to be another soul in the garden when I enteredit, and I felt all that bliss which solitude lends to perfectsurroundings. There might have been a thousand persons traversing thepaths, and I could not have heard them, but I was presently startledout of my reveries by hearing my own name--or rather the one by which Iwas known--pronounced in a voice which I had learned, in a few briefmoments, to recognize.

  "Dubravnik," said the princess, evidently in reply to a questionconcerning me. She uttered my name in a manner that thrilled me, too.Her companion, a man, responded:

  "Bah! A friend of Prince Michael's, and therefore a friend of theczar's. It would be a dangerous experiment to sound him, princess."

  "Perhaps; we will discuss it another time, Ivan. Shall we go in here?"

  They had paused directly in front of the place where I was concealed,or rather, only half concealed, for they could have seen me if eitherhad chanced to look in my direction. I could see them plainly. As itwas, I nestled closer among the cushions and closed my eyes, expectingdiscovery; but for some reason--fate impelled, doubtless--they passedon a few steps, and entered another of the Turkish bowers which was thecounterpart of the one that concealed me, and they seated themselves sonear to me that I could have reached out one hand and touched them hadit not been for the intervening screen of tapestry which partitionedthe two enclosures. The few words I had overheard convinced me that Iwas not to listen to confidences of a sentimental nature; otherwise Ishould have made my presence known, and escaped. The sentence that hadreached me, uttered by the man, suggested another reason for the tryst,and I therefore listened, convinced that it was my duty to do so.