Alcott, Louisa May - SSC 20
Page 26
Professing herself satisfied for the present, and hopeful for the future, the princess left me to join her brother in the garden, where I saw them talking long and earnestly. It was pleasant to a lonely soul like myself to be so loved and cherished, and when I descended it was impossible to preserve the cold demeanor I had assumed, for all faces greeted me with smiles, all voices welcomed me, and one presence made the strange place seem like home. The princes behavior was perfect, respectful, devoted and self-controlled; he appeared like a new being, and the whole household seemed to rejoice in the change.
Day after day glided happily away, for Volnoi was a lovely spot, and I saw nothing of the misery hidden in the hearts and homes of the hundred serfs who made the broad domain so beautiful. I seldom saw them, never spoke to them, for I knew no Russ, and in our drives the dull-looking peasantry possessed no interest for me. They never came to the house, and the prince appeared to know nothing of them bevond what his Stavosta, or steward reported. Poor Alexis! he had manv hard lessons to learn that year, yet was a better man and master for them all, even the one which nearly cost him his life.
Passing through the hall one day, I came upon a group of servants lingering near the door of the apartment in which the prince gave his orders and transacted business. I observed that the French servants looked alarmed, the Russian ones fierce and threatening, and that Antoine, the valet of the prince, seemed to be eagerly dissuading several of the serfs from entering. As I appeared he exclaimed:
“Hold, he is saved! Mademoiselle will speak for him; she fears nothing, and she pities every one.” Then, turning to me, he added, rapidly: “Mademoiselle will pardon us that we implore this favor of her great kindness. Ivan, through some carelessness, has permitted the favorite horse of the prince to injure himself fatally. He has gone in to confess,, and we fear for his life, because Monsieur le Prince loved the fine beast well, and will be in a fury at the loss. He killed poor Androvitch for a less offense, and we tremble for Ivan. Will mademoiselle intercede for him? I fear harm to my master if Ivan suffers, for these fellows swear to avenge him.”
Without a word I opened the door and entered quietly. Ivan was on his knees, evidently awaiting his doom with dogged submission. A pair of pistols lay on the table, and near it stood the prince, with the dark flush on his face, the terrible fire in his eyes which I had seen before. I saw there was no time to lose, and going to him, looked up into that wrathful countenance, whispering in a warning tone:
“Remember poor Androvitch.”
It was like an electric shock; he started, shuddered, and turned pale; covered his face a moment and stood silent, while I saw drops gather on his forehead and' his hand clinch itself spasmodically. Suddenly he moved, flung the pistols through the open window, and turning on Ivan, said, with a forceful gesture:
“Go. I pardon you.”
The man remained motionless as if bewildered, till I touched him, bidding him thank his master and begone.
“No, it is you I thank, good angel of the house,” he muttered, and lifting a fold of my dress to his lips Ivan hurried from the room.
I looked at the prince; he was gravely watching us, but a smile touched his lips as he echoed the man’s last words, “‘Good angel of the house’; yes, in truth you are. Ivan is right, he owes me no thanks; and yet it was the hardest thing I ever did to forgive him the loss of my noble Sophron.”
“But you did forgive him, and whether he is grateful or not, the victory is yours. A few such victories and the devil is cast out for ever.”
He seized my hand, exclaiming in a tone of eager delight:
“You believe this? You have faith in me, and rejoice that I conquer this cursed temper, this despotic will?”
“I do; but I still doubt the subjection of the will,” I began; he interrupted me by an impetuous —
“Try it; ask anything of me and I will submit.”
“Then let me return to St. Petersburg at once, and do not ask to follow.”
He had not expected this, it was too much; he hesitated, demanding, anxiously:
“Do you really mean it?”
“Yes.”
“You wish to leave me, to banish me now when you are all in all to me?”
“I wish to be free. You have promised to obey; yield your will to mine and let me go.”
He turned and walked rapidly through the room, paused a moment at the further end, and coming back, showed me such an altered face that my conscience smote me for the cruel test. He looked at me in silence for an instant, but I showed no sign of relenting, although I saw what few had ever seen, those proud eyes wet with tears. Bending, he passionately kissed my hands, saying, in a broken voice:
“Go, Sybil. I submit.”
“Adieu, my friend; I shall not forget,” and without venturing another look I left him.
I had hardly reached my chamber and resolved to end the struggle for both of us, when I saw the prince gallop out of the courtyard like one trying to escape from some unfortunate remembrance or care.
“Return soon to me,” I cried; “the last test is over and the victory won.”
Alas, how little did I foresee what would happen before that return; how little did he dream of the dangers that encompassed him. A tap at my door roused me as I sat in the twilight an hour later, and Claudine crept in, so pale and agitated that I started up, fearing some mishap to the princess.
“No, she is well and safe, but oh, mademoiselle, a fearful peril hangs over us all. Hush! I will tell you. I have discovered it, and we must save them.”
“Save who? what peril? speak quickly.”
“Mademoiselle knows that the people on the estate are poor ignorant brutes who hate the Stavosta, and have no way of reaching the prince except through him. He is a hard man; he oppresses them, taxes them heavily unknown to the prince, and they believe my master to be a tyrant. They have borne much, for when we are away the Stavosta rules here, and they suffer frightfully. I have lived long in Russia, and I hear many things whispered that do not reach the ears of my lady. These poor creatures bear long, but at last they rebel, and some fearful affair occurs, as at Bagatai, where the countess, a cruel woman, was one night seized by her serfs, who burned and tortured her to death.”
“Good heavens! Claudine, what is this danger which menaces us?”
“I understand Russ, mademoiselle, have quick eyes and ears, and for some days I perceive that all is not well among the people. Ivan is changed; all look dark and threatening but old Vacil. I watch and listen, and discover that they mean to attack the house and murder the prince.”
“Mon Dieu! but when?”
“I knew not till to-day. Ivan came to me and said, ‘Mademoiselle Varna has saved my life. I am grateful. I wish to serve her. She came here against her will; she desires to go; the prince is away; I will provide a horse to-night at dusk, and she can join her friend Madame Yermaloff, who is at Baron Narod’s, only a verst distant. Say this to mademoiselle, and if she agrees, drop a signal from her window. I shall see and understand.’”
“But why think that the attack is to be to-night?”
“Because Ivan was so anxious to remove you. He urged me to persuade you, for the prince is gone, and the moment is propitious. You will go, mademoiselle?”
“No; I shall not leave the princess.”
“But you can save us all by going, for at the baron’s you can procure help and return to defend us before these savages arrive. Ivan will believe you safe, and you can thwart their plans before the hour comes. Oh, mademoiselle, I conjure you to do this, for we are watched, and you alone will be permitted to escape.”
A moment’s thought convinced me that this was the only means of help in our power, and my plans w ere quickly laid. It was useless to w ait tor the prince, as his return was uncertain; it was unwise to alarm the princess, as she would betray all; the quiek-w itted Claudine and myself must do the work, and trust to heaven for success. I dropped a handkerchief from mv window'; a tall figure Emerged fr
om the shrubbery, and vanished, whispering:
“In an hour — at the chapel gate.”
At the appointed time I was on the spot, and found Ivan holding the w'ell-trained horse I often rode. It was nearly dark — for August brought night — and it was w ell for me, as my pale face would have betrayed me.
“Mademoiselle has not fear? If she dares not go alone I will guard her,” said Ivan, as he mounted me.
“Thanks. I fear nothing. I have a pistol, and it is not far. Liberty is sweet. I will venture much for it.”
“I also,” muttered Ivan.
He gave me directions as to my route, and watched me ride away, little suspecting mv errand.
I low I rode that night! My blood tingles again as I recall the wild gallop along the lonely road, the excitement of the hour, and the resolve to save Alexis or die in the attempt. Fortunately I found a large party at the barons, and electrified them bv appearing in their midst, disheveled, breathless and eager w ith my tale of danger. What passed I scareelv remember, for all was confusion and alarm. I refused to remain, and soon found myself dashing homeward, followed by a gallant troop of five and twenty gentlemen. More time had been lost than I knew, and mv heart sunk as a dull glare shone from the direction of Volnoi as we strained up the last hill.
Reaching the top, we saw that one wing was already on fire, and distinguished a black, heaving mass on the law n by the flickering torchlight. With a shout of wrath the gentlemen spurred to the rescue, but I reached the chapel gate unseen, and entering, flew to find my friends. Claudine saw me and led me to the great saloon, for the lower part of the house was barricaded. Here I found the princess quite insensible, guarded by a flock of terrified French servants, and Antoine and old Vacil endeavoring to screen the prince, who, with reckless courage, exposed himself to the missiles which came crashing against the windows. A red light filled the room, and from without arose a yell from the infuriated mob more terrible than any wild beast’s howl.
As I sprang in, crying, “They are here — the baron and his friends — you are safe!” all turned toward me as if every other hope was lost. A sudden lull without, broken by the clash of arms, verified my words, and with one accord we uttered a cry of gratitude. The prince flung up the window to welcome our deliverers; the red glare of the fire made him distinctly visible, and as he leaned out with a ringing shout, a hoarse voice cried menacingly:
“Remember poor Androvitch.”
It was Ivan’s voice, and as it echoed my words there was the sharp crack of a pistol, and the prince staggered back, exclaiming faintly:
“I forgive him; it is just.”
We caught him in our arms, and as Antoine laid him down he looked at me with a world of love and gratitude in those magnificent eyes of his, whispering as the light died out of them:
“Always our good angel. Adieu, Sybil. I submit.”
How the night went after that I neither knew nor cared, for my only thought was how to keep life in my lover till help could come. I learned afterward that the sight of such an unexpected force caused a panic among the serfs, who fled or surrendered at once. The fire was extinguished, the poor princess conveyed to bed, and the conquerors departed, leaving a guard behind. Among the gentlemen there fortunately chanced to be a surgeon, who extracted the ball from the prince’s side.
I would yield my place to no one, though the baron implored me to spare myself the anguish of the scene. I remained steadfast, supporting the prince till all was over; then, feeling that my strength was beginning to give way, I whispered to the surgeon, that I might take a little comfort away with me:
“He will live? I lis wound is not fatal?”
The old man shook his head, and turned away, muttering regretfully:
“There is no hope; say farewell, and let him go in peace, mv poor child.”
The room grew dark before me, but I had strength to draw the white face close to my own, and whisper tenderly:
“Alexis, I love you, and you alone. I confess my cruelty; oh, pardon me, before you die!”
A look, a smile full of the intensest love and joy, shone in the eyes that silently met mine as consciousness deserted me.
One month from that night I sat in that same saloon a happy woman, for on the couch, a shadow of his former self but alive and out of danger, lay the prince, my husband. The wound was not fatal, and love had worked a marvelous cure. While life and death still fought for him, I yielded to his prayer to become his wife, that he might leave me the protection of his name, the rich gift of his rank and fortune. In my remorse I would have granted anything, and when the danger was passed rejoiced that nothing could part us again.
As I sat beside him my eyes wandered from his tranquil face to the garden where the princess sat singing among the flowers, and then passed to the distant village where the wretched serfs drudged their lives away in ignorance and misery. They were mine now, and the weight of this new possession burdened my soul.
“I cannot bear it; this must be changed.”
“It shall.”
Unconsciously I had spoken aloud, and the prince had answered without asking to know' my thoughts.
“What shall be done, Alexis?” I said, smiling, as I caressed the thin hand that lay in mine.
“Whatever you desire. I do not w ait to learn the wish, I promise it shall be granted.”
“Rash as ever; have you, then, no will of your own?”
“None; you have broken it.” .
“Good; hear then my wish. Liberate your serfs; it afflicts me as a free-born Englishwoman to own men and women. Let them serve you if they will, but not through force or fear. Can you grant this, my prince?”
“I do; the Stavosta is already gone, and they know I pardon them. What more, Sybil?”
“Come with me to England, that I may show my countrymen the brave barbarian I have tamed.”
My eyes were full of happy tears, but the old tormenting spirit prompted the speech. Alexis frowned, then laughed, and answered, with a glimmer of his former imperious pride:
“I might boast that I also had tamed a fiery spirit, but I am humble, and content myself with the knowledge that the proudest woman ever born has promised to love, honor, and — ”
“Not obey you,” I broke in with a kiss.