Princess Zara

by Ross Beeckman

  CHAPTER XI

  FOR THE SAKE OF THE CZAR

  When one is sentenced to death by the nihilists in Russia it sends acold shiver down the back, no matter how brave and self-reliant one maybe, for those fanatics have an uncomfortable way of carrying out suchdecrees to the bitter end. However, I smiled and assured the princessthat I thought I could find a way to avoid the consequences of myeavesdropping, and then awaited the moment when she would say more. Fora long time she was silent, and during it I studied her carefully, forshe was the most complex puzzle that I had ever encountered in theshape of a woman. I had heard enough to know that she was not only aconspirator against the life of the emperor, but that she wasostensibly if not really, the leader among her fellow conspirators; orif not _the_ leader, then a leader. I had heard her talk glibly ofassassination and death, and I had heard her deplore in mental anguishthe part she was forced to play in the game of Russian politics. In onemoment I had believed her to be a heartless schemer, a murderess, andone who was devoid of compassion; and in the next I was forced to theconjecture that she was a victim of circumstances, and that she had nolove for or sympathy with the cause she advocated. Now, as I watchedher, the same emotions succeeded each other in my judgment of hercharacter, and finally I summed them all up in the decision that shewas a being who was swayed by impulses. There are seeming paradoxeswhich will explain just what my conclusions were concerning Zara deEcheveria. She was deliberately impulsive; calculatingly reckless;systematically chaotic. The warm, Southern blood in her veins impelledher to deeds which were rendered thrice effective by reason of the factthat she applied to them the calculating coolness and method of herRussian ancestors. Hence the paradox.

  Presently she raised her eyes to mine.

  "Dubravnik," she said slowly, "there is one way of escape for you; andthere is only one."

  "What is that?" I asked.

  "You must become a nihilist."

  "I had thought of that," I returned coolly. For, indeed, I had thoughtof it, although not at all from the motive she understood me to mean.

  "You had thought of it?" she cried. "Do you say that earnestly, or onlyto lead me on?"

  "Was it not this very point that you were discussing with your brotherwhen you entered the garden last night, princess?" I asked, recallingthe mention of my name between them at that time.

  "Yes; I had said to him that you were the kind of a man who should beadded to our ranks. I think you must have heard his reply."

  "Yes."

  "Do you know what nihilism is, Mr. Dubravnik?"

  "No. I have always regarded it as a dangerous organization; morallydangerous, I mean. You must not think that I have considered joining itfor any other reason than to place myself in a position where I willfeel that it is my duty to respect the confidence that I stole fromyou, rather than to betray it."

  "Then you never had such a thought until you knew I was a nihilist?"

  "Never."

  "And you would join us for my sake?"

  "No."

  "For whose, then?"

  "For the sake of the czar."

  "Ah! You would join only to betray them all into the hands of thepolice! That is what you mean."

  Zara leaped to her feet. Her whole manner underwent a change and forthe instant she was completely dominated by a furious scorn which foundits expression in every single pose of the attitude she assumed. Hereyes blazed with the sudden anger she felt at me, brought about more bythe thought which came to her that I, whom she had stooped to admire,was nothing but a spy. A torrent of words rushed to her lips, at leasther appearance was that she was on the point of denouncing me mostbitterly; but I raised a hand and interrupted her, bending slightlyforward, and speaking with sharp decision, although coolly, and withstudied conciseness of expression.

  "No," I said. "If I should become a nihilist, it would be to protectthe emperor, not to betray your friends."

  Again her entire manner underwent a change. As if she thoroughlybelieved me, the fury of scorn left her eyes, the angry glitter of themceased, the rigidity of her attitude relaxed, and I saw that she wasregarding me with an expression of wondering amazement, in which pity,and longing, not unmixed with admiration, were dominant. She was silentfor the moment, but she kept her eyes fixed upon mine, and graduallythey began to glow with that fire of enthusiasm which no argument canever hope to overcome. Looking upon her I realized that if she were nota nihilist at heart, she had become one by reason of some great mentalcataclysm through which she had passed. I believed then, and I was toknow later, that I was correct, and that nothing at present apparentcould swerve her from her set purpose, or could influence her againstthe cause she had undertaken, and was now upholding, so valiantly. Thespasms of remorse that rushed upon her at times, and such feelings ofrepugnance as I had heard her express in the garden, were only _oases_in the desert of her perverted judgment, engendered in her very soul bysome terrible calamity through which she had personally passed, orregarding which she had been a close observer. When she spoke again, itwas with low-toned softness, and she glided a step or two nearer to me,raising her beautiful eyes, now softened to an appealing quality, andclasping her hands in front of her with a gesture of supplianthelplessness that was almost overwhelming.

  "Do you think that we have no wrongs to right?" she demanded.

  "I think you have many, princess, judging from your standpoint; but youcannot right them by committing greater ones. Nothing can dignify orennoble deliberate assassination, or wanton, cruel, secret murder. Thenihilists are assassins, murderers, cutthroats."

  "You do not know! You do not know!"

  "Perhaps not."

  "Having heard what you did--knowing, as you do, my secret--unwilling asI know you are, to betray me, what do you propose, Mr. Dubravnik?"

  I replied deliberately.

  "I have thought of joining the nihilists, but I have reconsidered thequestion as impracticable. Therefore, I have decided that you mustleave Russia."

  "I? Leave Russia? Ordered away by you?"

  "Yes, princess."

  She laughed wildly, and again this creature of impulse underwent one ofher lightning changes of which I had seen so many evidences. She wasindignant now, made so by offended pride, because of the affront mywords had put upon her social status. She, a princess, high in place,to be ordered out of her own country by a man who was a stranger toher, was unprecedented.

  "Do you think that I am a weak thing to be ordered about like that by aman whom I never met until last night? Beware, sir, lest you make meregret that the bullet did not do its work more effectively. I am aprincess; I have wealth, power, influential friends; do not think thatthe czar would believe what you would say, when he heard the story thatI could tell him."

  I shrugged my shoulders carelessly. It was part of my purpose to angerher even to the point of madness, for in that way alone could I hope todraw her out to the point of revealing herself to me truly. Andbesides, I was again falling under that fascination which exerted suchstrange and compelling power over me.

  "If I believed you to be sincere in what you say now, it would make myunfortunate duty much more simple," I said.

  "Your duty! What is your duty? To betray a woman?"

  "Precisely that."

  "And you would do that? _You?_"

  "If the alternative fails, yes."

  Again she rose from the couch upon which she had relaxed. She came andstood quite near to me, and with infinite scorn, impossible todescribe, she said slowly:

  "I think our interview is at an end, Mr. Dubravnik, for there isevidently nothing to be gained by it. I much prefer to choose myfriends among those whom you call assassins, than from frequenters ofthe palace--if the others are like you."

  I rose also, and bowed coldly.

  "As you will, princess," I said. "I promised to keep your secrettwenty-four hours. You have still ten hours in which to do one of threethings to obviate the necessity that is now upon me, of betraying you."

  "Indee
d!" haughtily.

  "The easiest one will be for you to notify me of your intention todepart from the country. The second, quite as effective, was suggestedby yourself last night when we talked of suicide. The third willperhaps prove more congenial than either of the others; you can have memurdered." I bowed, and started towards the door, but she barred theway before I could reach it.

  "You shall not go!" she cried, extending her arms as if to bar the wayagainst my exit, and again her speaking countenance betrayed theimpulse within her. This time it was terror.

  "No? Is your brother Ivan here to complete the work so badly begun,princess?" I purposely rendered my question insolently offensive.

  For a moment she gazed at me in horror; then, with a sob in her throat,she stepped aside and pointed towards the door.

  "Go," she said. "I should not have detained you." But as I was about totake her at her word she burst into a passion of tears. At the sameinstant she leaped towards me, and seizing me with both hands, drew meback again to the middle of the floor.

  "No--no--no--no!" she cried. "You shall not go! Don't you know that youwould be shot down at the door of my house, or at best before you hadgone a hundred feet away from it? Have you forgotten that yourappointment with me to-day was known by those who have decided uponyour death? Will you force me to acquiesce in your murder, even thoughyou believe me capable of committing it?"

  I knew that what she said was undoubtedly true, for I had neglected myusual caution in not providing for an emergency of this kind; but Ipretended to be incredulous.

  "Yet I cannot remain here indefinitely, princess," I said.

  "It is the only way to save your life. If you leave here before I haveseen those who would kill you, you will not live fifteen minutes aftermy door closes behind you. Oh, I beseech you, take the oath; promise methat you will take the oath, and let me go and tell my friends that youwill do so."

  She was pleading with me now, with her hands supplicatingly extended,and with an expression of such utter terror in her face because of thecalamity which threatened me, that my soul was for a moment moved topity for this woman, who could pass through so many phases of emotionin so short a period of time. But nevertheless it was not my purpose tobetray that pity, then. I had still to draw her out, more and more;there was still much to learn of this complex woman, so beautiful andso noble, who yet could find a sufficient excuse to engage in suchnefarious practices.

  I have thought since that I was playing with myself, as well as withher, at that time; that I was making a study of Zara's soul, ratherthan of her character; I have believed, and I now believe, that even atthat moment I was madly in love with this half wild creature, outwardlyso tamed, and yet inwardly more than half a barbarian, with the bloodof her Tartar ancestors on the one side coursing hotly in her veins. Iwanted to know her. I wanted to bring her out of herself. My ownintuition recognized, and was making the most of a boundless andlimitless sympathy that existed between us two, although I was not atthe time conscious of the fact; a sympathy that found voice in Zara'sheart as well as in mine, and which needed but a touch, as of the sparkto grains of powder, to fire it into a blaze of love so absolute as tosweep every other consideration from its path. My heart recognizedhers, and I was subconsciously aware that hers recognized mine. It maybe that I was playing two parts with her at that moment, the one beingthat of my ostensible character, as an agent of the czar; the otherasserting itself as plain Dan Derrington, an American gentleman who wasvery much in love.

  "Do you suppose, even then, that they would believe you, and spare me?"I asked, with unconcealed irony, forcing myself even against my will,to render my question bitterly offensive.

  "Yes, oh, yes! I would give myself as hostage for your honor. My lifewould be forfeited, too, if you should not keep the oath."

  I hesitated. The opportunity was an alluring one in a way, for it wouldrender the entire organization like an open book to me. But more thanall else was the communion of interest that would thus be createdbetween this peerless woman and me. Still, there were other things tobe considered. The danger I would thus incur might render impotent theentire fabric that I had constructed with so much care; and truth totell I could not bring myself to the point of utilizing a woman'sconfidence in order ultimately to betray her and her friends.

  "I cannot take the oath, princess," I said, calmly.

  "Think! think!" she exclaimed.

  "I have thought. I cannot do it."

  "Sit down again, Mr. Dubravnik. There is no danger as long as youremain here. I wish to tell you something. I want you to know why I ama nihilist; then, perhaps, you may be of a different opinion."

  I obeyed her and she resumed her position on the couch, but her entiremanner had undergone another change. The contempt, the scorn, the angerhad all died out of her face which now assumed a retrospectiveexpression and when she next addressed me her eyes had in them adreamy, far away light, as though she were living in the past while sherecited the strange tale that thrilled me as nothing else ever had, orever has done.

  "I have heard," she began, "that you yourself have seen some of thehorrors of Siberia, but I doubt it. I do not even believe that you area Russian, and to be perfectly frank I do not believe that your name isDubravnik. I am of the opinion--and I did not think of it until sincethe commencement of this interview--that you are not what you seem tobe, and that your mission in Russia is in some way connected with theGovernment police; that you are more than a passive enemy ofnihilism--that you are, in short, an active one. If I am right thereexists all the more reason why I must appeal to your manhood, yourhonor, your sense of justice, to your bravery and chivalry. Who areyou, Mr. Dubravnik?"

  "I am Daniel Derrington, an American, in the service of the czar."

  "And therefore connected with the police."

  "No. The police do not know me, save as you know me; not even theterrible Third Section."

  She scarcely noticed my confession, so absorbed was she by the merethought of the story she was about to relate.

  Her eyes were turned towards the window, her hands clasped tightlytogether in her lap, her chin was raised, and she seemed to be lookinginto the past as one might look upon a picture hanging against thewall, observing every detail of it minutely, and yet conscious only ofthe whole.

  "Fancy yourself, a Russian of noble birth, an officer in the army, afavorite at court, the possessor of almost unlimited wealth and happybeyond the dreams of heaven," she said, dreamily. "Search your memoryfor the picture of a beautiful girl--she was only a girl, not yettwenty, when my story begins--and make this one of whom I speak thricemore beautiful than the picture you delineate. She was your sister. She_is_ your sister. You are her brother in the story I shall relate toyou. You two are fatherless and motherless; you are all that is left ofyour family, once famous, and seemingly destined through you to becomeso again. You are a favorite with the czar, and your sister is the petof the royal family. Your influence at court is unlimited. You are onthe summit of the wave of favor and popularity. Have you drawn thepicture?"

  "I endeavor to do so, princess."

  "You and Yvonne--she had a French name--reside in the same palace whereyour fathers lived before you. Your sister is the idol of your heart.You worship her with such devotion that it becomes a maxim quoted bymothers to their sons. You idealize her, and are proud of her; and sheis worthy of it all. Ah, sir, follow me with care, for the story willtouch you, I believe, as nothing else could do."

  Zara left the couch and crossed to the window, where she stood staringthrough it for a long period of time, so silent, so still, so like astatue in her attitude, that I beheld her with something like awe,while I trembled with eagerness for her to speak again. I must admitthat the story she had begun to relate had thus far made no impressionupon me, and that it was only the voice of the woman I loved, and thechanging expressions of its tone, and her beautiful countenance, whichattracted me then. She was so wholly lovable in every attribute of herbeing; and now, absorbed as she was
by the retrospective considerationof the tale she had begun to relate, and because her manner wasentirely impersonal, she became even more compelling in herfascinations for me. I forgot, for the moment, that she was a Russianprincess and a nihilist, and remembered only the one absorbing factthat she was a woman. My duties in St. Petersburg and the character Ihad assumed in fulfilling them, the city itself and all mysurroundings, the environment of the moment and all that went with it,faded from my mental view, and left us two there, utterly alone in aworld of our own, self created by my own conceit of the moment.

  I do not know what impulse it was that brought me to my feet with asudden start of resolve, but I had taken three or four strides towardher, with arms outstretched to seize her lithe form in my embrace, andto crush her against me in a burst of passion which I found myself nolonger able to control, when I was startled into motionlessness andsilence by a sudden cry from Zara, who turned about and faced me for aninstant, and who then seized me by the arm and drew me to the window,pointing into the street as she did so.