CHAPTER VI
AN AMBASSADOR'S AMBASSADOR
After the tourney of the Black Eagle, Leopold von Dessauer had gone tobed early, feeling younger and lighter than he had done for years. Partof his scheme for these northern provinces of his fatherland consistedin gradual substitution of a few strong states for many weak ones. Forthis reason he smiled when he saw the eyes of his secretary shining likestars.
It would yet more have rejoiced him had he known how uneasy lay thathandsome head on its pillow. Aye, even in pain it would have pleasuredhim. For Von Dessauer was lying awake and thinking of the strangechances which help or mar the lives of men and women, when a suddensense of shock, a numbness spreading upwards through his limbs, therising of rheum to his eyes, and a humming in his ears, announced theapproach of one of those attacks to which he had been subject ever sincehe had been wounded in a duel some years before--a duel in which hispresent Prince and his late master, Karl the Miller's Son, had both beenengaged.
The Ambassador called for Jorian in a feeble voice. That light-sleepingsoldier immediately answered him. He had stretched himself out, wrappedin a blanket for all covering, on the floor of the antechamber inDessauer's lodging. In a moment, therefore, he presented himself at thedoor completely dressed. A shake and a half-checked yawn completed hisinexpensive toilet, for Jorian prided himself on not being what hecalled "a pretty-pretty captainet."
"Your Excellency needs me?" he said, standing at the salute as if it hadbeen the morning guard changing at the palace gate.
"Give me my case of medicine," said the old man; "that in the bag ofrough Silesian leather. So! I feel my old attack coming upon me. It willbe three days before I can stir. Yet must these papers be put in thehands of the Prince early this morning. Ah, there is my little Johann; Iwas thinking about her--him, I mean. Well, he shall have his chance.This foul easterly wind may yet blow us all good!"
He made a wry face as a twinge of pain caught him. It passed and heresumed.
"Go, Jorian," he said, "tap light upon his chamber door. If he chance tobe in the deep sleep of youth and health--not yet distempered by thoughtand love, by old age and the eating of many suppers--rap louder, for Imust see him forthwith. There is much to set in order ere at nineo'clock he must adjourn to the summer palace to meet the Prince."
So in a trice Jorian was gone and at the door of thearchitect-secretary, he of the brown skin and Greekish profile.
Johann Pyrmont was, it appeared, neither in bed nor yet asleep. Instead,he had been standing at the window watching the brighter stars swim upone by one out of the east. The thoughts of the young man were happythoughts. At last he was in the capital city of the Princes ofCourtland. His many days' journey had not been in vain. Almost in thefirst moment he had seen the noble youthful Prince and his sister, andhe was prepared to like them both. Life held more than the preparationof plans and the ordering of bricklayers at their tasks. There was init, strangely enough, a young man with closely cropped head whom Johannhad seen storm through the ranks of the fighting-men that day, andafterwards receive the guerdon of the bravest.
Though what difference these things made to an architect of Hamburg townit was difficult (on the face of things) to perceive. Nevertheless, hestood and watched the east. It was five of a clear autumnal morning, anda light chill breath blew from the point at which the sun would rise.
A pale moon in her last quarter was tossed high among the stars, as ifupborne upon the ebbing tide of night. Translucent greyness filled thewide plain of Courtland, and in the scattered farms all about thelights, which signified early horse-tending and the milking of kine,were already beginning to outrival the waning stars. Orion, with hisguardian four set wide about him, tingled against the face of the east,and the electric lamp of Sirius burnt blue above the horizon. Thelightness and the hope of breathing morn, the scent of fields halfreaped, the cool salt wind from off the sea, filled the channels of theyouth's life. It was good to be alive, thought Johann Pyrmont, architectof Hamburg, or otherwise.
Jorian rapped low, with more reverence than is common from captains tosecretaries of legations. The young man was leaning out of the windowand did not hear. The ex-man-at-arms rapped louder. At the sound JohannPyrmont clapped his hand to the hip where his sword should have been.
"Who is there?" he asked, turning about with keen alertness, and in avoice which seemed at once sweeter and more commanding than even themost imperious master-builder would naturally use to his underlings.
"I--Jorian! His Excellency is taken suddenly ill and bade me come foryou."
Immediately the secretary opened the door, and in a few seconds stood atthe old man's bedside.
Here they talked low to each other, the young man with his hand laidtenderly on the forehead of his elder. Only their last words concern usat present.
"This will serve to begin my business and to finish yours. Thereafterthe sooner you return to Kernsberg the better. Remember the moon cannotlong be lost out of the sky without causing remark."
The young man received the Ambassador's papers and went out. Dessauertook a composing draught and lay back with a sigh.
"It is humbling," he said to Jorian, "that to compose young wits youmust do it through the heart, but in the case of the old through thestomach."
"'Tis a strange draught _he_ hath gotten," said the soldier, indicatingthe door by which the secretary had gone forth. "If I be not mistaken,much water shall flow under bridge ere his sickness be cured."
As soon as he had reached his own chamber Johann laid the papers uponthe table without glancing at them. He went again to the window andlooked across the city. During his brief absence the stars had thinnedout. Even the moon was now no brighter than so much grey ash. But theeast had grown red and burned a glorious arch of cool brightness, withall its cloud edges teased loosely into fretted wisps and flakes ofchangeful fire. The wind began to blow more largely and statedly beforethe coming of the sun. Johann drew a long breath and opened wide bothhalves of the casement.
"To-day I shall see the Prince!" he said.
It was exactly nine of the clock when he set out for the palace. He wasattired in the plain black dress of a secretary, with only the narrowestcorded edge and collar of rough-scrolled gold. The slimness of his waistwas filled in so well that he looked no more than a well-grown,clean-limbed stripling of twenty. A plain sword in a scabbard of blackleather was belted to his side, and he carried his papers in his handsealed with seals and wrapped carefully about with silken ties. Yet, forall this simplicity, the eyes of Johann Pyrmont were so full of light,and his beauty of face so surprising, that all turned to look after himas he went by with a free carriage and a swing to his gait.
Even the market girls ran together to gaze after the young stranger.Maids of higher degree called sharply to each other and crowded thebalconies to look down upon him. But through the busy morning tumult ofthe streets Johann Pyrmont walked serene and unconscious. Was not hegoing to the summer palace to see the Prince?
At the great door of the outer pavilion he intimated his desire to theofficer in charge of the guard.
"Which Prince?" said the officer curtly.
"Why," answered the secretary, with a glad heart, "there is but one--hewho won the prize yesterday at the tilting!"
"God's truth!--And you say true!" ejaculated the guardsman, starting."But who are you who dares blurt out on the steps of the palace ofCourtland that which ordinary men--aye, even good soldiers--durstscarcely think in their own hearts?"
"I am secretary of the noble Ambassador of Plassenburg, and I come tosee the Prince!"
"You are a limber slip to be so outspoken," said the man; "but rememberthat you could be right easily broken on the wheel. So have a care ofthose slender limbs of yours. Keep them for the maids of yourPlassenburg!"
And with the freedom of a soldier he put his hand about the neck ofJohann Pyrmont, laying it upon his far shoulder with the easyfamiliarity of an elder, who has it in his power to do a kindness to ayounger. Insti
nctively Johann slipped aside his shoulder, and theofficer's hand after hanging a moment suspended in the air, fell to hisside. The Courtlander laughed aloud.
"What!" he cried, "is my young cock of Plassenburg so mightilyparticular that he cannot have an honest soldier's hand upon hisshoulder?"
"I am not accustomed," said Johann Pyrmont, with dignity, "to have men'shands upon my shoulder. It is not our Plassenburg custom!"
The soldier laughed a huge earth-shaking laugh of merriment.
"Faith!" he cried, "you are early begun, my lad, that men's hands areso debarred. 'Not our custom!' says he. Why, I warrant, by the fashionof your countenance, that the hands of ladies are not so unwelcome. Ha!you blush! Here, Paul Strelitz, come hither and see a young gallant thatblushes at a word, and owns that he is more at home with ladies thanwith rough soldiers."
A great bearded Bor-Russian came out of the guard-room, stretchinghimself and yawning like one whose night has been irregular.
"What's ado?--what is't, that you fret a man in his beauty-sleep?" hesaid. "Oh, this young gentleman! Yes, I saw him yesterday, and thePrincess Margaret saw him yesterday, too. Does he go to visit her soearly this morning? He loses no time, i' faith! But he had better keepout of the way of the Wasp, if the Princess gives him many of thoseglances of hers, half over her shoulder--you know her way, Otto."
At this the first officer reiterated his jest about his hand on Johann'sshoulder, being of that mighty faction which cannot originate thesmallest joke without immediately wearing it to the bone.
The secretary began to be angry. His temper was not long at the longest.He had not thought of having to submit to this when he became asecretary.
"I am quite willing, sir captain," he said, with haughty reserve, "thatyour hand should be--where it ought to be--on your sword handle. For inthat case my hand will also be on mine, and very much at your service.But in my country such liberties are not taken between strangers!"
"What?" cried Otto the guardsman, "do men not embrace one another whenthey meet, and kiss each other on either cheek at parting? How then, somighty particular about hands on shoulders? Answer me that, my youngsecretary."
"For me," said Johann, instantly losing his head in the hotness of hisindignation, "I would have you know that I only kiss ladies, or permitthem to kiss me!"
The Courtlander and the Bor-Russian roared unanimously.
"Is he not precious beyond words, this youngling, eh, Paul Strelitz?"cried the first. "I would we had him at our table of mess. What wouldour commander say to that? How he would gobble and glower? 'As for me, Ionly kiss ladies!' Can you imagine it, Paul?"
But just then there came a clatter of horse's hoofs across the widespaces of the palace front, into which the bright forenoon sun was nowbeating, and a lady of tall figure and a head all a-ripple with sunny,golden curls dashed up at a canter, the stones spraying forward andoutward as she reined her horse sharply with her hands low.
"The Princess Margaret!" said the first officer. "Stand to it, Paul. Bea man, secretary, and hold your tongue."
The two officers saluted stiffly, and the lady looked about for some oneto help her to descend. She observed Johann standing, still haughtilyindignant, by the gate.
"Come hither!" she said, beckoning with her finger.
"Give me your hand!" she commanded.
The secretary gave it awkwardly, and the Princess plumped rather sharplyto the ground.
"What! Do they not teach you how to help ladies to alight inPlassenburg?" queried the Princess. "You accompany the new ambassador,do you not?"
"You are the first I ever helped in my life," said Johann simply."Mostly----"
"What! I am the first? You jest. It is not possible. There are manyladies in Plassenburg, and I doubt not they have noted and distinguisheda handsome youth like you."
The secretary shook his head.
"Not so," he said, smiling; "I have never been so remarked by any ladyin Plassenburg in my life."
The Courtlander, standing stiff at the salute, turned his head theleast fraction of an inch towards Paul Strelitz the Bor-Russian.
"He sticks to it. Lord! I wish that I could lie like that! I would makemy fortune in a trice," he muttered. "'As for me, I only kiss ladies!'Did you hear him, Paul?"
"I hear him. He lies like an archbishop--a divine liar," muttered theBor-Russian under his breath.
"Well, at any rate," said the Princess, never taking her eyes off theyoung man's face, "you will be good enough to escort me to the Prince'sroom."
"I am going there myself," said the secretary curtly.
"Certainly they do not teach you to say pretty things to ladies,"answered the Princess. "I know many that could have bettered that speechwithout stressing themselves. Yet, after all, I know not but I like yourblunt way best!" she added, after a pause, again smiling upon him.
As she took the young man's arm, a cavalier suddenly dashed up on asmoking horse, which had evidently been ridden to his limit. He was ofmiddle size, of a figure exceedingly elegant, and dressed in the highestfashion. He wore a suit of black velvet with yellow points and narrowbraidings also of yellow, a broad golden sash girt his waist, his facewas handsome, and his mustachios long, fierce, and curling. His eyeglittered like that of a snake, with a steady chill sheen, unpleasant tolinger upon. He swung from his horse, casting the reins to the nearestsoldier, who happened to be our Courtland officer Otto, and sprang upthe steps after the Princess and her young escort.
"Princess," he said hastily, "Princess Margaret, I beg your pardon mosthumbly that I have been so unfortunate as to be late in my attendanceupon you. The Prince sent for me at the critical moment, and I was boundto obey. May I now have the honour of conducting you to the summerparlour?"
The Princess turned carelessly, or rather, to tell it exactly, sheturned her head a little back over her shoulder with a beautiful gesturepeculiar to herself.
"I thank you," she said coldly, "I have already requested this gentlemanto escort me. I shall not need you, Prince Ivan."
And she went in, bending graciously and even confidingly towards thesecretary, on whose arm her hand reposed.
The cavalier in banded yellow stood a moment with an expression on hisface at once humorous and malevolent.
He gazed after the pair till the door swung to and they disappeared.Then he turned bitterly towards the nearest officer.
"Tell me," he said, "who is the lout in black, that looks like apriest-cub out for a holiday?"
"He is the secretary of the embassy of Plassenburg," said Otto theguardsman, restraining a desire to put his information in another form.He did not love this imperious cavalier; he was a Courtlander andholding a Muscovite's horse. The conjunction brought something into histhroat.
"Ha," said the young man in black and yellow, still gazing at the closeddoor, "I think I shall go into the rose-garden; I may have somethingfurther to say to the most honourable the secretary of the embassy ofPlassenburg!" And summoning the officer with a curt monosyllable tobring his horse, he mounted and rode off.
"I wonder he did not give me a silver groat," said the Courtlander. "Thesecretary sparrow may be dainty and kiss only ladies, but this Prince ofMuscovy has not pretty manners. I hope he does not marry the Princessafter all."
"Not with her goodwill, I warrant," said Paul Strelitz; "either you or Iwould have a better chance, unless our Prince Ludwig compel her to itfor the good of the State!"
"Prince Wasp seemed somewhat disturbed in his mind," said theCourtlander, chuckling. "I wish I were on guard in the rose-garden tosee the meeting of Master Prettyman and his Royal Highness the Hornet ofMuscovy!"
"He gazed after the pair till the door swung to."[_Page 46_]]
Joan of the Sword Hand Page 7
