“Not gone!” I exclaimed, in unfeigned surprise.
He turned, smiled, flushed, and said, as he vanished:
“I follow mademoiselle’s good example in yielding my wishes to the comfort and pleasure of others.”
CHAPTER VI
The next day we set out, but the dreaded journey proved delightful, for the weather was fine, and the prince in a charming mood. No allusion was made to the unexpected delay, except by the princess, who privately expressed her wonder at my power, and treated me with redoubled confidence and affection. We loitered by the way, and did not reach St. Petersburg till June.
I had expected changes in mv life as well as change of scene, but was unprepared for the position which it soon became evident I was to assume. In Paris I had been the companion, now I was treated as a friend and equal bv both the prince and princess. They entirely ignored my post, and remembering only that I was by birth a gentlewoman, by a thousand friendly acts made it impossible for me to refuse the relations which they chose to establish between us. I suspect the princess hinted to her intimates that I was a connection of her own, and my name gave color to the statement. Thus I found myself received with respect and interest by the circle in which I now moved, and truly enjoyed the free, gay life, which seemed doubly charming, after years of drudgerv.
With this exception there was less alteration in my surroundings than I had imagined, for the upper classes in Russia speak nothing but French; in dress, amusements, and manners, copy French models so carefully that I should often have fancied myself in Paris, but for the glimpses of barbarism, which observing eyes cannot fail to detect, in spite of the splendor which surrounds them. The hotel of the prince was a dream of luxury; his equipages magnificent; his wealth apparently boundless; his friends among the highest in the land. He appeared to unusual advantage at home, and seemed anxious that I should observe this, exerting himself in many ways to impress me w ith his power, even while he was most affable and devoted.
I could no longer blind myself to the truth, and tried to meet it honestly. The prince loved me, and made no secret of his preference, though not a w'ord had passed his lips. I had felt this since the night he carried me in his arms, but remembering the difference in rank, had taught myself to see in it only the passing caprice of a master for a servant, and as such, to regard it as an insult. Since we came to St. Petersburg the change in his manner seemed to assure me that he sought me as an equal, and desired to do me honor in the eyes of those about us. This soothed my pride and touched my heart, but, alluring as the thought was to my vanity and my ambition, I did not yield to it, feeling that I should not love, and that such an alliance was not the one for me.
Having come to this conclusion, I resolved to abide by it, and did so the more inflexibly as the temptation to falter grew stronger. My calm, cool manner perplexed and irritated the prince, who seemed to grow' more passionate as test after test failed to extort any betrayal of regard from me. The princess, absorbed in her own affairs, seemed apparently blind to her brother’s infatuation, till I was forced to enlighten her.
July was nearly over, when the prince announced that he was about to visit one of his estates, some versts from the city, and we were to accompany him. I had discovered that Volnoi was a solitary place, that no guests were expected, and that the prince was supreme master of everything and everybody on the estate. This did not suit me, for Madame Yermaloff, an Englishwoman, who had conceived a friendship for me, had filled my head with stories of Russian barbarity, and the entire helplessness of whomsoever dared to thwart or defy a Russian seigneur, especially when on his own domain. I laughed at her gossip, yet it influenced my decision, for of late the prince had looked ireful, and his black eyes had kept vigilant watch over me. I knew that his patience was exhausted, and feared that a stormy scene was in store for me. To avoid all further annoyance, I boldly stated the case to the princess, and decidedly refused to leave St. Petersburg.
To my surprise, she agreed with me; and I discovered, what I had before suspected, that, much as she liked me as a friend, the princess would have preferred her brother to marry one of his own rank. She delicately hinted this, yet, unwilling to give me up entirely, begged me to remain with Madame Yermaloff till she returned, when some new arrangement might be made. I consented, and feeling unequal to a scene with the prince, left his sister to inform him of my decision, and went quietly to my friend, who gladly received me. Next morning the following note from the princess somewhat reassured me:
Ma CHERE Sybil— We leave in an hour. Alexis received the news of your flight in a singular manner. I expected to see him half frantic; but no, he smiled, and said, tranquilly: “She fears and flies me; it is a sign of weakness, for which I thank her.” I do not understand him; but when we are quiet at Volnoi, I hope to convince him that you are, as always, wise and prudent. Adieu! I embrace you tenderly. N.T.
A curious sense of disappointment and uneasiness took possession of me on reading this note, and, womanlike, I began to long for that which I had denied myself. Madame Yermaloff found me a very dull companion, and began to rally me on my preoccupation.
I tried to forget, but could not, and often stole out to walk past the prince’s hotel, now closed and silent. A week dragged slowly by, and I had begun to think the prince had indeed forgotten me, when I was convinced that he had not in a somewhat alarming manner. Returning one evening from a lonely walk in the Place Michel, with its green English square, I observed a carriage standing near the Palace Galitzin, and listlessly wondered who was about to travel, for the coachman was in his place and a servant stood holding the door open. As I passed I glanced in, but saw nothing, for in the act sudden darkness fell upon me; a cloak was dexterously thrown over me, enveloping my head and arms, and rendering me helpless. Some one lifted me into the carriage, the door closed, and 1 was driven rapidly away, in spite of my stifled cries and fruitless struggles. At first I was frantic with anger and fear, and rebelled desperately against the strong hold which restrained me. Not a word was spoken, but I felt sure, after the first alarm, that the prince was near me, and this discovery, though it increased my anger, allayed my fear. Being half-suffocated, I suddenly feigned faintness, and lay motionless, as if spent. A careful hand withdrew the thick folds, and as I opened my eyes they met those of the prince fixed on me, full of mingled solicitude and triumph.
“You! Yes; I might have known no one else would dare perpetrate such an outrage!” I cried, breathlessly, and in a tone of intense scorn, though my heart leaped with joy to see him.
He laughed, while his eyes flashed, as he answered, gayly:
“Mademoiselle forgets that she once said she ‘liked courage in love as in war, and respected a man who conquered all obstacles.’ I remember this, and, when other means fail dare to brave even her anger to gain mv object.”
“What is that object?” I demanded, as my eyes fell before the ardent glance fixed on me.
“It is to see vou at Volnoi, in spite of your cruel refusal.”
“I will not go.”
And with a sudden gesture I dashed my hand through the window and cried for help with all my strength. In an instant I was pinioned again, and my cries stifled by the cloak, as the prince said, sternly:
“If mademoiselle resists, it will be the worse for her. Submit, and no harm will befall you. Accept the society of one who adores you, and permit yourself to be conquered by one who never yields — except to you,” he added, softly, as he held me closer, and put by the cloak again.
“Let me go — I will be quiet,” I panted, feeling that it was indeed idle to resist now, yet resolving that he should suffer for this freak.
“You promise to submit — to smile again, and be your charming self?” he said, in the soft tone that was so hard to deny.
“I promise nothing but to be quiet. Release me instantly!” and I tried to undo the clasp of the hand that held me.
“Not till you forgive me and look kind. Nay, struggle if you will, I lik
e it, for till now you have been the master. See, I pardon all your cruelty, and find you more lovely than ever.”
As he spoke he bent and kissed me on forehead, lips and cheek with an ardor which wholly daunted me. I did pardon him, for there was real love in his face, and love robbed the act of rudeness in my eyes, for instead of any show of anger or disdain, I hid my face in my hands, weeping the first tears he had ever seen me shed. It tamed him in a moment, for as I sobbed I heard him imploring me to be calm, promising to sin no more, and assuring me that he meant only to carry me to Volnoi as its mistress, whom he loved and honored above all women. Would I forgive his wild act, and let his obedience in all things else atone for this?
I must forgive it; and if he did not mock me by idle offers of obedience, I desired him to release me entirely and leave me to compose myself, if possible.
He instantly withdrew his arm, and seated himself opposite me, looking half contrite, half exultant, as he arranged the cloak about my feet. I shrunk into the corner and dried my tears, feeling unusually weak and womanish, just when I most desired to be strong and stern. Before I could whet my tongue for some rebuke, the prince uttered an exclamation of alarm, and caught my hand. I looked, and saw that it was bleeding from a wound made by the shattered glass.
“Let it bleed,” I said, trying to withdraw it. But he held it fast, binding it up with his own handkerchief in the tenderest manner, saying as he finished, with a passionate pressure:
“Give it to me, Sybil, I want it — this little hand — so resolute, yet soft. Let it be mine, and it shall never know labor or wound again. Why do you frown — what parts us?”
“This,” and I pointed to the crest embroidered on the corner of the mouchoir.
“Is that all?” he asked, bending forward with a keen glance that seemed to read my heart.
“One other trifle,” I replied sharplv.
“Name it, my princess, and I will annihilate it, as all other obstacles,” he said, with the lordly air that became him.
“It is impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible to Alexis Demidoff.”
“I do not love you.”
“In truth, Sybil?” he cried incredulously.
“In truth,” I answered steadily.
He eyed me an instant with a gloomy air, then drew a long breath, and set his teeth, exclaiming:
“You are mortal. I shall make you love me.”
“How, monsieur?” I coldly asked, w hile my traitorous heart beat fast.
“I shall humble myself before you, shall obey your commands, shall serve you, protect you, love and honor you ardently, faithfully, while I live. Will not such devotion win you?”
“No.”
It was a hard word to utter, but I spoke it, looking him full in the eve and seeing w'ith a pang how pale he grew with real despair.
“Is it because you love already, or that you have no heart?” he said slowly.
“I love already.” The words escaped me against my will, for the truth would find vent in spite of me. He took it as I meant he should, for his lips whitened, as he asked hoarsely:
“And this man whom you love, is he alive?”
“Yes.”
“He knows of this happiness — he returns your love?”
“He loves me; ask no more; I am ill and weary.”
A gloomy silence reigned for several minutes, for the prince seemed buried in a bitter reverie, and I was intent on watching him. An involuntary sigh broke from me as I saw the shadow deepen on the handsome face opposite, and thought that my falsehood had changed the color of a life. He looked up at the sound, saw my white, anxious face, and without a word drew from a pocket of the carriage a flask and silver cup, poured me a draught of wine, and offered it, saying gently:
“Am I cruel in my love, Sybil?”
I made no answer, but drank the wine, and asked as I returned the cup:
“Now that you know the truth, must I go to Volnoi? Be kind, and let me return to Madame Yermaloff.”
His face darkened and his eyes grew fierce, as he replied, with an aspect of indomitable resolve:
“It is impossible; I have sworn to make you love me, and at Volnoi I will work the miracle. Do you think this knowledge of the truth will deter me? No; I shall teach you to forget this man, whoever he is, and make you happy in my love. You doubt this. Wait a little and see what a real passion can do.”
This lover-like pertinacity was dangerous, for it flattered my woman’s nature more than any submission could have done. I dared not listen to it, and preferring to see him angry rather than tender, I said provokingly:
“No man ever forced a woman to love him against her will. You will certainly fail, for no one in her senses would give her heart to you!"
“And why? Am I hideous?” he asked, with a haughty smile.
“Far from it.”
“Am I a fool, mademoiselle?”
“Quite the reverse.”
“Am I base?”
“No.”
“Have I degraded my name and rank by any act?”
“Never, till to-night, I believe.”
He laughed, yet looked uneasy, and demanded imperiously: “Then, why will no woman love me?”
“Because you have the will of a tyrant, and the temper of a madman.”
If I had struck him in the face it would not have startled him as my blunt words did. He flushed scarlet, drew back and regarded me with a half-bewildered air, for never had such a speech been made to him before. Seeing my success, I followed it up by saving gravely:
“The insult of to-night gives me the right to forget the respect I have hitherto paid you, and for once you shall hear the truth as plain as words can make it. Many fear you for these faults, but no one dares tell you of them, and they mar an otherwise fine nature.” I got no further, for to my surprise, the prince said suddenly, with real dignity, though his voice w as less firm than before:
“One dares to tell me of them, and I thank her. Will she add to the obligation by teaching me to cure them?” Then he broke out impetuously: “Sybil, you can help me; you possess courage and power to tame my wild temper, my headstrong will. In heaven’s name I ask you to do it, that I may be worthy some good womans love.”
He stretched his hands tow ard me with a gesture full of force and feeling, and his eloquent eyes pleaded for pity. I felt my resolution melting aw'ay, and fortified myself by a chilly speech.
“Monsieur le Prince has said that nothing is impossible to him; if he can conquer all obstacles, it were well to begin with these.”
“I have begun. Since I knew' you my despotic w ill has bent more than once to yours, and my mad temper has been curbed by the remembrance that you have seen it. Sybil, if I do conquer myself, can you, will you try to love me?”
So earnestly he looked, so humbly he spoke, it was impossible to resist the charm of this new and manlier .mood. I gave him my hand, and said, with the smile that always won him:
“I will respect you sincerely, and be your friend; more I cannot promise.”
He kissed my hand with a wistful glance, and sighed as he dropped it, saying in a tone of mingled hope and resignation: “Thanks; respect and friendship from you are dearer than love and confidence from another woman. I know and deplore the taults fostered bv education and indulgence, and I will conquer them. Give me time. I swear it will be done.”
“I believe it, and I pray for your success.”
He averted his face and sat silent for many minutes, as if struggling with some emotion which he was too proud to show. I watched him, conscious of a redoubled interest in this man, who at one moment ruled me like a despot, and at another confessed his faults like a repentant boy.
CHAPTER VII
In Russia , from the middle of May to the ist of August, there is no night. It is davlight till eleven, then comes a soft semi-twilight till one, when the sun rises. Through this gathering twilight we drove toward Volnoi. The prince let down the windows, and the summer air blew
in refreshingly; the peace of the night soothed my perturbed spirit, and the long silences were fitly broken by some tender word from my companion, who, without approaching nearer, never ceased to regard me with eyes so full of love that, for the first time in my life, I dared not meet them.
It was near midnight when the carriage stopped, and I could discover nothing but a tall white pile in a wilderness of blooming shrubs and trees. Lights shone from many windows, and as the prince led me into a brilliantly lighted salon, the princess came smiling to greet me, exclaiming, as she embraced me with affection: “Welcome, my sister. You see it is in vain to oppose Alexis. We must confess this, and yield gracefully; in truth, I am glad to keep you, chere am'ie, for without you we find life very dull.”
“Madame mistakes; I never yield, and am here against my will.” I withdrew myself from her as I spoke, feeling hurt that she had not warned me of her brother’s design. They exchanged a few words as I sat apart, trying to look dignified, but dying with sleep. The princess soon came to me, and it was impossible to resist her caressing manner as she begged me to go and rest, leaving all disagreements till the morrow. I submitted, and, with a silent salute to the prince, followed her to an apartment next her own, where I was soon asleep, lulled by the happy thought that I was not forgotten.
The princess was with me early in the morning, and a few moments’ conversation proved to me that, so tar from her convincing her brother of the folly of his choice, he had entirely won her to his side, and enlisted her sympathies for himself. She pleaded his suit with sisterly skill and eloquence, but I would pledge myself to nothing, feeling a perverse desire to be hardly won, if won at all, and a feminine wish to see my haughty lover thoroughly subdued before I put mv happiness into his keeping. I consented to remain for a time, and a servant was sent to Madame Yermaloff v. ith a letter explaining mv flight, and telling where to forward a portion of my wardrobe.
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