CHAPTER XXVI. AT THE INN
The Countess Loschek was on her way across the border. The arrangementswere not of her making. Her plan, which had been to go afoot across themountain to the town of Ar-on-ar, and there to hire a motor, had beenaltered by the arrival at the castle, shortly after the permission wasgiven, of a machine. So short an interval, indeed, had elapsed that sheconcluded, with reason, that this car now placed at her disposal was theone which had brought that permission.
"The matter of passports for the border is arranged, madame," BlackHumbert told her.
"I have my own passports," she said proudly.
"They will not be necessary."
"I will have this interview at my destination alone; or not at all."
He drew himself to his great height and regarded her with cold eyes. "Asyou wish," he said. "But it is probably not necessary to remind madamethat, whatever is discussed at this meeting, no word must be mentionedof the Committee, or its plans."
Although he made no threat, she had shivered. No, there must be no wordof the Committee, or of the terror that drove her to Karl. For, if theworst happened, if he failed her, and she must do the thing they had sether to do, Karl must never know. That card she must play alone.
So she was not even to use her own passports! Making her hastypreparations, again the Countess marveled. Was there no limit to thepowers of the Committee of Ten? Apparently the whole machinery of theGovernment was theirs to command. Who were they, these men who had satthere immobile behind their masks? Did she meet any of them daily in thePalace? Were the eyes that had regarded her with unfriendly steadinessthat night in the catacombs, eyes that smiled at her day by day, in thevery halls of the King? Had any of those shrouded and menacing figuresbent over her hand with mocking suavity? She wondered.
A hasty preparation at the last it was, indeed, but a careful toilet hadpreceded it. Now that she was about to see Karl again, after months ofseparation, he must find no flaw in her. She searched her mirror for theravages of the past few days, and found them. Yet, appraising herselfwith cold eyes, she felt she was still beautiful. The shadows about hereyes did not dim them.
Everything hung on the result of her visit. If Karl persisted, if hewould marry Hedwig in spite of the trouble it would precipitate, thenindeed she was lost. If, on the other hand, he was inclined to peace,if her story of a tottering throne held his hand, she would defy theCommittee of Ten. Karl himself would help her to escape, might indeedhide her. It would not be for long. Without Karl's support the King'sdeath would bring the Terrorists into control. They would have otherthings to do than to hunt her out. Their end would be gained withouther. Let them steal the Crown Prince, then. Let Hedwig fight for herthrone and lose it. Let the streets run, deep with blood and all thepandemonium of hell break loose.
But if Karl failed her?
Even here was the possibility of further mischance. Suppose the boygone, and the people yet did not rise? Suppose then that Hedwig, by hervery agency, gained the throne and held it. Hedwig, Queen of Livonia inher own right, and Karl's wife!
She clenched her teeth.
Over country roads the machine jolted and bumped. At daybreak theyhad not yet reached the border. In a narrow lane they encountered apilgrimage of mountain folk, bent for the shrine at Etzel.
The peasants drew aside to let the Machine pass, and stared at it. Theyhad been traveling afoot all night, and yet another day and a nightwould elapse before they could kneel in the church.
"A great lady," said one, a man who carried a sleeping child in hisarms.
"Perhaps," said a young girl, "she too has made a pilgrimage. All go toEtzel, the poor and the rich. And all receive grace."
The Countess did not sleep. She was, with every fiber of her keenbrain, summoning her arguments. She would need them, for she knew--nonebetter--how great a handicap was hers. She loved Karl, and he knew it.What had been her strength had become her weakness.
Yet she was composed enough when, before the sun was well up, themachine drew up in the village before the inn where Mettlich had spenthis uneasy hours.
Her heavy veils aroused the curiosity of the landlord. When, shortlyafter, his daughter brought down a letter to be sent at once to theroyal hunting-lodge, he shrugged his shoulders. It was not the firsttime a veiled woman had come to his inn under similar circumstances.After all, great people are but human. One cannot always be a king.
The Countess breakfasted in her room. The landlord served her himself,and narrowly inspected her. She was not so young as he had hoped,but she was beautiful. And haughty. A very great person, he decided,incognito.
The King was hunting, he volunteered. There were great doings at thelodge. Perhaps Her Excellency would be proceeding there.
She eyed him stonily, and then sent him off about his business.
So all the day she ate her heart out in her bare room. Now and then theclear sound of bugles reached her, but she saw no hunters. Karl followedthe chase late that day. It was evening before she saw the tired horsesstraggling through the village streets. Her courage was oozing by thattime. What more could she say than what he already knew? Many agenciesother than hers kept him informed of the state of affairs in Livonia. Abitter thought, this, for it showed Karl actuated by love of Hedwig, andnot by greed of power. She feared that more than she feared death.
She had expected to go to the lodge, but at nine o'clock that nightKarl came to her, knocking at the door of her room and entering withoutwaiting for permission.
The room was small and cozy with firelight. Her scarlet cloak, flungover a chair, made a dash of brilliant color. Two lighted candles on ahigh carved chest, and between them a plaster figure of the Mother andChild, a built-in bed with white curtains--that was the room.
Before the open fire Olga Loschek sat in her low chair. She wore stillher dark traveling dress; and a veil, ready to be donned at the summonsof a message from Karl, trailed across her knee. In the firelight shelooked very young--young and weary. Karl, who had come hardened to ascene, found her appealing, almost pathetic.
She rose at his entrance and, after a moment of surprise, smiledfaintly. But she said nothing, nor did Karl, until he had lifted one ofher cold hands and brushed it with his lips.
"Well!" he said. "And again, Olga!"
"Once again." She looked up at him. Yes, he was changed. The old Karlwould have taken her in his arms. This new Karl was urbane, smiling,uneasy.
He said nothing. He was apparently waiting for her to make the firstmove. But she did not help him. She sat down and he drew a small chairto the fire.
"There is nothing wrong, is there?" he said. "Your note alarmed me. Notthe note, but your coming here."
"Nothing--and everything." She felt suddenly very tired. Her very voicewas weary. "I sent you a letter asking you to come to the castle. Therewere things to discuss, and I did not care to take this risk of cominghere."
"I received no letter."
"No!" She knew it, of course, but she pretended surprise, a carefullysuppressed alarm.
"I have what I am afraid is bad news, Olga. The letter was taken. Ireceived only a sheet of blank paper."
"Karl!" She leaped to her feet.
She was no mean actress. And behind it all was her real terror, greater,much greater, than he could know. Whatever design she had on Karl'spity, she was only acting at the beginning. Deadly peril was clutchingher, a double peril, of the body and of the soul.
"Taken! By whom?"
"By some one you know--young Larisch."
"Larisch!" No acting there. In sheer amazement she dropped back fromhim, staring with wide eyes. Nikky Larisch! Then how had the Terroristsgot it? Was all the world in their employ?
"But--it is impossible!"
"I'm sorry, Olga. But even then there is something to be explained. Weimprisoned him--we got him in a trap, rather by accident. He maintainedthat he had not made away with the papers. A mystery, all of it. Onlyyour man, Niburg, could explain, and he--"
"Ye
s?"
"I am afraid he will never explain, Olga."
Then indeed horror had its way with her. Niburg executed as a spy, aftermaking who knew what confession! What then awaited her at the old castleabove the church at Etzel? Karl, seeing her whitening lips, felt astirring of pity. His passion for her was dead, but for a long time hehad loved her, and now, in sheer regret, he drew her to him.
"Poor girl," he said softly. "Poor girl!" And drew his hand gently overher hair.
She shivered at his touch. "I can never go back," she said brokenly.
But at that he freed her. "That would be to confess before you areaccused," he reminded her. "We do not know that Niburg told. He wasdoomed anyhow. To tell would help nothing. The letter, of course, was incode?"
"Yes."
She sat down again, fighting for composure.
"I am not very brave," she said. "It was unexpected. In a moment I shallbe calmer. You must not think that I regret the risk. I have always beenproud to do my best for you."
That touched him. In the firelight, smiling wanly at him, she was verylike the girl who had attracted him years before. Her usual smilingassurance was gone. She looked sad, appealing. And she was right. Shehad always done her best for him. But he was cautious, too.
"I owe you more than I can tell you," he said. "It is the sort of debtthat can never be paid. Your coming here was a terrible risk. Somethingurgent must have brought you."
She pushed back her heavy hair restlessly.
"I was anxious. And there were things I felt you should know."
"What things?"
"The truth about the King's condition, for one. He is dying. Thebulletins lie. He is no better."
"Why should the bulletins lie?"
"Because there is a crisis. You know it. But you cannot know what weknow--the living in fear, the precautions, everything."
"So!" said Karl uneasily. "But the Chancellor assured me--" He stopped.It was not yet time to speak of the Chancellor's visit.
"The Chancellor! He lies, of course. How bad things are you may judgewhen I tell you that a hidden passage from the Palace has been openedand cleared, ready for instant flight."
It was Karl's turn to be startled. He rose, and stood staring down ather. "Are you certain of that?"
"Certain!" She laughed bitterly. "The Terrorists Revolutionists, theycall themselves--are everywhere. They know everything, see everything.Mettlich's agents are disappearing one by one. No one knows where, butall suspect. Student meetings are prohibited. The yearly procession ofveterans is forbidden, for they trust none, even their old soldiers. TheCouncil meets day after day in secret session."
"But the army--"
"They do not trust the army."
Karl's face was grave. Something of the trouble in Livonia he had known.But this argued an immediate crisis.
"On the King's death," the Countess said, "a republic will be declared.The Republic of Livonia! The Crown Prince will never reign."
She shivered, but Karl was absorbed in the situation.
"Incredible!" he commented. "These fears are sometimes hysterias, butwhat you say of the preparations for flight--I thought the boy was verypopular."
"With some. But when has a child stood between the mob and the thing itwants? And the thing they cry for is liberty. Down with the royal house!Down with the aristocracy!"
She was calm enough now. Karl was listening, was considering, lookeduneasy. She had been right. He was not for acquiring trouble, even bymarriage.
But, if she had read Karl, he also knew her. In all the years hehad known her she had never been reckless. Daring enough, but with acalculating daring that took no chances. And yet she had done a recklessthing by coming to him. From under lowered eyelids he considered her.Why had she done it? The situation was serious enough, but even then--"So you came to-day to tell me this?"
She glanced up, and catching his eyes, colored faintly. "These arethings you should know."
He knew her very well. A jealous woman would go far. He knew now thatshe was jealous. When he spoke it was with calculating brutality. "Youmean, in view of my impending marriage?"
So it was arranged! Finally arranged. Well, she had done her best. Heknew the truth. She had told it fairly. If, knowing it, he persisted, itwould be because her power over him was dead at last.
"Yes. I do not know how far your arrangements have gone. You have atleast been warned."
But she saw, by the very way he drew himself up and smiled, that heunderstood. More than that, he doubted her. He questioned what she hadsaid.
The very fact that she had told him only the truth added to herresentment.
"You will see," she said sullenly.
Because he thought he already saw, and because she had given him a badmoment, Karl chose to be deliberately cruel. "Perhaps!" he said. "Buteven then if this marriage were purely one of expediency, Olga, I mighthesitate. Frankly, I want peace. I am tired of war, tired of bickering,tired of watching and being watched. But it is not one of expediency.Not, at least, only that. You leave out of this discussion the oneelement that I consider important, Hedwig herself. If the PrincessHedwig were to-morrow to be without a country, I should still hope tomarry her."
She had done well up to now, had kept her courage and her temper, hadtaken her cue from him and been quiet and poised. But more than hiswords, his cruel voice, silky with friendship, drove her to the breakingpoint. Karl, who hated a scene, found himself the victim of one, and wasnone the happier that she who had so long held him off was now herselfat arm's length, and struggling.
Bitterly, and with reckless passion, she flung at him Hedwig'sinfatuation for young Larisch, and prophesied his dishonor as a resultof it. That leaving him cold and rather sneering, she reviewed theirold intimacy, to be reminded that in that there had been no question ofmarriage, or hope of it.
"I am only human, Olga," he said, in an interval when she had fallento quiet weeping. "I loved you very sincerely, and for a long time.Marriage between us was impossible. You always knew that."
In the end she grew quiet and sat looking into the fire with eyes fullof stony despair. She had tried and failed. There was one way left, onlyone, and even that would not bring him back to her. Let Hedwig escapeand marry Nikky Larisch--still where was she? Let the Terrorists striketheir blow and steal the Crown Prince. Again--where was she?
Her emotions were deadened, all save one, and that was her hatred ofHedwig. The humiliation of that moment was due to her. Somehow, someday, she would be even with Hedwig. Karl left her there at last, huddledin her chair, left full of resentment, the ashes of his old love coldand gray. There was little reminder of the girl of the mountains in thestony-eyed woman he had left sagged low by the fire.
Once out in the open air, the King of Karnia drew a long breath. Theaffair was over. It had been unpleasant. It was always unpleasant tobreak with a woman. But it was time. He neither loved her nor neededher. Friendly relations between the two countries were established; andsoon, very soon, would be ratified by his marriage.
It was not of Olga Loschek, but of Hedwig that he thought, as his carclimbed swiftly to the lodge.