Chapter XIII: In the Royal Box

When the Princess and I entered the Royal Box that night the applause was instant and enthusiastic. I kept a bit in the rear; the greeting was for her. And she smiled that conquering smile of hers that went straight to every individual in the audience as a personal acknowledgment. I had seen it frequently in the past month; yet, every time, to marvel only the more. Small wonder, indeed, that she was the toast of the Nation and the pride of the King. A million pities the Salic Law barred her from the succession. What a Queen Regnant she would make! Aye, what a Queen Consort she would be! What a wife!

Then the last high note of the National Air blared out and the Princess, turning quickly, caught my look and straightway read my thoughts. A sudden flush swept over her face and neck and she dropped her eyes. Silently I placed a chair for her; as she took it, her bare arm rested against my hand. The effect on me, in the stress of my feelings at that moment, is indescribable. I know I gasped--and my throat got hot and my heart pounded in sharp pain.

But I did not withdraw my hand--nor did the Princess remove her arm. Its soft, warm flesh pressed against my fingers--the perfume of her hair enveloped my face--the beat of her bosom was just below me.

A fierce impulse seized me to take her in my arms--there, before them all, the Court and the Capital. Reason told me to step back. Yet I could not. Instead, I gripped the chair fiercely, and, by that very act, pushed my fingers only more closely against her.

Was I dreaming--or did I feel an answering pressure, not once but twice repeated. I was sure of it. I bent forward. Quickly she looked up at me with eyes half closed.

"How cold your hand is, Armand," she said.

"Does it chill you, dear?" I whispered.

She smiled. "It never could do that," she answered. "But won't you sit beside me, now?"

"Yes, I suppose so," I said reluctantly. "Only, I'm nearer you as I am."

Then I took my chair, drawing it a trifle in the rear, so, being obliged to lean forward, I would be closer to her and could speak softly in her ear.

"You're very bold, Armand; you are always doing things so publicly," she said.

"It was an accident--at first."

"And afterward, sir?"

"Afterward, I was powerless."

"My arm would not believe you."

"Powerless to remove my hand, I mean."

"Powerlessness, with you, has queer manifestations," she said.

"Yes--sometimes it's passive and sometimes active."

"It was active, I suppose, that day in the King's cabinet, when you gave me that cousinly kiss."

"If we were not so public I would----"

She looked at me with the most daring invitation. "It is because we are so public that you are permitted to sit so near."

"Then, why blame me if I take the only opportunities you give me?" I asked.

She half closed her eyes and looked at me, side-long, through her lashes.

"Have I ever blamed you?" she asked.

"Dehra," said I, "if you look at me like that I shall kiss you now."

She closed her eyes a trifle more. "Where, Armand?" she said. "You have been kissing my hair every time I let it touch your lips."

"Let it touch them again, then," I whispered.

She turned her head sharply from me and, then, slowly back again; and her perfumed tresses, dressed low on her neck, brushed full and hard across my face, from cheek to cheek.

"There, cousin," said she; "am I not good?"

"Not entirely, when you call me 'cousin,'" I said, looking her in the eyes.

"Your Highness, then," she smiled.

"Worse still."

"Marshal."

"No better."

"Marshal would please most men," she said.

"There is only one name from you will please me, now," I answered.

She quite closed her eyes. "You are an autocrat to-night, Armand," she murmured.

"I'm your lover, sweetheart; your lover to-night and always," I said impetuously.

She opened her eyes wide and looked into mine with that calm, deep search which only a good woman has power to use. I knew, and trembling waited. What she saw in my eyes then she would see there always--in storm, in sunshine--in youth and in old age.

Then, suddenly, her glance dropped and a blush stole slowly across her cheek.

"To me, dearest," she said softly, "you have been a lover since that day in the forest when you were only Captain Smith."

I bowed my head. "You Princess of women," I said. "How near I was to losing you."

She turned and deliberately let her hair rest on my face a moment.

"There, dear," said she, "is my first kiss to you. I shall have to wait a bit for yours to me."

"And you really want my kiss, Dehra?" I asked doubtingly. Small wonder, indeed, I was slow to realize my fortune.

"You great stupid," she laughed. "Can't you understand I have wanted it for six long years?"

"I think," said I, "I'm dreaming."

"For a dreamer, you're wonderfully brave," she said. "Do you appreciate that you had the audacity to propose to the Princess Royal of Valeria while she sat in the Royal Box before all the fashion of Dornlitz?"

"My dear," said I, "I would propose to her a dozen times under like conditions if I thought, at the end, she would do as she has done to-night."

"If she had known that, she might have put you to the test."

"It would have made her wait only the longer for that kiss she wants," I said.

"Oh, I fancy, sir, she could have had your kiss without accepting you. She needed only to give you half a chance."

"I think," said I, "even less than half a chance from you, dear, would have been successful."

She studied her fan a moment. "From me, _only_?" she asked.

"From you, only," I said. "It would require a trifle more than half a chance from anyone else."

"Even from the Lady Helen Radnor?" she asked.

I watched her face a moment. There was, I felt, only one way to play this out.

"Well," I answered, "it might be that an even half chance would suffice from her."

"It took rather less than that at the Birthday Ball, didn't it?"

I had the grace to keep silent--or, maybe, I was too surprised to know an answer. I did not have the courage to meet her eyes. I stared into the audience, seeing no one, thinking much--hoping she would speak; but she did not.

Presently I turned, looking like a whipped child, I know, and met Dehra's smiling face.

"Tie my slipper, dear," she said, "the ribbon has come undone."

"You sweetheart!" I said. "You sweetheart!"

She drew her gown back from the footstool, and I slowly tightened the silken bands over the high-arched instep--very slowly, I confess.

"You're very naughty, Armand," she said, shaking her head in mock reproof.

"Doesn't the other shoe need fastening?" I asked.

"No, sir--and, if it did, I would have the Countess tie it."

"Bother the Countess," I said. (The Countess Giska was the Princess's chief Lady in Waiting--and she and my aide-de-camp, Moore, were in the rear of the Box, which, fortunately, was sufficiently deep to put them out of ear-shot.)

"Or, I might ask Major Moore. I think he would be glad to do it," she said.

"He would be a most extraordinary Irishman if he were not more than glad," I said. "But, when I'm around, Dehra, the pleasure is mine alone."

"Goodness, Armand, you would not be jealous?" she mocked.

"I don't know what it's called," said I, "but that's it."

"Haven't you ever been jealous, dear?" she asked.

"I never cared enough for a girl to be jealous," I said.

"I fancy you've cared for so many you had no time to entertain the Green-eyed Monster," she said.

I evaded the thrust. "Has he ever visited you?" I asked.

She ignored the question.

"Isn't Lady Helen beautiful to-night?" she said--and smiled a greeting toward the British Ambassador's Box.

Instantly, Lord Radnor and Courtney arose and bowed low. I returned the salute in kind.

"Tell me," I said. "Were you ever jealous?"

She kept her eyes on the stage. Carmen was the opera, but, thus far, I had not heard a single note.

"I am waiting for you to answer my question," she said, presently.

"I fear I missed it," I replied.

"Queer, surely--it was about Lady Helen. I asked if she were not beautiful to-night."

"She is always very handsome," I said. "And she looks particularly well in blue."

Dehra smiled slyly. "It's the same gown she wore at the Birthday Ball."

I bit my lip--then, suddenly, I got very brave.

"Tell me," I said. "How did you know I kissed her, that night?"

"I saw it."

"The Dev--! Oh!" I exclaimed. I was brave no longer. I got interested in the opera. Presently, I ventured to glance at Dehra--she was laughing behind her fan. Then I ventured again.

"I hope," said I, "I did it nicely."

"Most artistically, my dear Armand. Escamillo, yonder, could not do it more cleverly."

I winced. It is not especially flattering to an Archduke to be classed with a toreador--and Carmen's toreador, least of all. Yet, I recognized the justice of the punishment. Bravery had failed twice; it was time to be humble.

"I am sorry, Dehra," I said.

"Of course you are, sir, very sorry--that I saw you.--And so was I," she added.

"Was?" I echoed.

"It gave me _un mauvais quart d'heure_."

"No longer than that?" tasked.

"No; it lasted only until I had you to myself on the terrace, a little later."

"And then?" I queried.

"Then? Then I was no longer jealous of the Lady Helen. Your eyes told me there was no need."

"There never has been anyone but you, my darling," I whispered.

"And never will be, Armand?" she asked.

"Please God, never," I said; and, forgetting where we were, I made as though to take her hand.

"Not now," she smiled. "Wait until after the Opera."

"It will be a longer wait than that," I said regretfully. "I have told Courtney I would invite the Radnors and him to take supper with me on the Hanging Garden, to-night."

"Why don't you say 'take supper with _us_'?"

"You mean it, Dehra?" I asked in surprise. "You have always refused, hitherto; and I have asked so often."

She smiled. "Hitherto was different from now," she said.

"Thank God for the now," I added.

"We might bid them here for the last act," she suggested.

"I have presumed to hint as much to Courtney," I said; and told her how it had all come about in my talk with him that morning.

"Delightful!" she exclaimed. "And we will have a jolly party on the Garden--and let us be just like ordinary folk and have a public table--only, a little apart, of course."

"It shall be as you want," I said, and dispatched Major Moore to the Radnor Box with the invitation.

When he returned, I stepped into the corridor and gave him explicit instructions as to the supper. I had encouraged both him and Bernheim to intimate when I was about to make an Archducal _faux pas_, and I saw he did not approve of the public table. But I gave no heed. I knew perfectly well it was violating official etiquette for the Princess to appear there at such an hour; but it was her first request since--well, since what had occurred a few minutes before--and I was determined to gratify her. And Moore, being a good courtier, and knowing I had observed his warning, made no further protest, but saluted and departed on his mission.

When I rejoined Dehra she had moved forward and was looking over the audience.

"I have found an ex-compatriot of yours," she remarked.

"Yes?" I said, rather indifferently.

"She has just come into the third box on the right. She is wonderfully beautiful--or, at least, she looks it from here."

"I've got someone wonderfully beautiful beside me," I answered.

"But have you no interest in the American?" she asked.

"None--except that she interests you. In the third box, did you say?" I asked, turning slowly toward it.

"Why, Armand, you know her!" said Dehra, suddenly.

Trust a woman to read a man's face.

"Yes," said I, "I have seen her before to-night."

She gave me a sharp look. "And have known her, too--_n'est ce pas_?"

"Yes--after a fashion," I answered.

She studied the woman for a space.

"Is that her husband behind her?" she asked, presently.

I smiled. "Very possibly," I said.

"Had she a husband when you knew her?" she persisted.

"Part of the time." I was a bit uncomfortable.

"And the man, yonder, is not he?"

"No," said I.

She gave me a sidelong glance. "And her name?" she asked.

"It used to be Madeline Spencer."

"You showed excellent taste, Armand--both in her looks and name." There was something of sarcasm in the tone.

"Don't be unjust, sweetheart," I said. "She never was anything to me."

"Are you quite sure?".

"On my honor."

She gave a little sigh of relief. "I am glad, dear; I would not want her for a rival. She is much too beautiful to be forgotten easily."

"The beauty is only external. She is ugly in heart," I said. "I wonder what brings her to Dornlitz?"

"The man beside her, doubtless," said Dehra.

"Then he's spending money on her like water--or she has some game afoot," I exclaimed.

"You paint her very dark, dear."

"Listen," I said. "She was the wife of Colonel Spencer of the American Army. He married her, one summer, in Paris, where he had gone to meet her upon her graduation from a convent school. She was his ward--the child of the officer who had been his room-mate at the Point. Within two years Colonel Spencer was dead--broken-hearted; a wealthy Lieutenant of his regiment had been cashiered and had shot himself after she had plucked him clean. Since then, she has lived in the odor of eminent respectability; yet, as I know, always waiting for a victim--and always having one. Money is her God."

"And, yet, there seems to be nothing in her appearance to suggest such viciousness," said Dehra.

"Nothing," I said; "and, hence, her danger and her power."

"You knew her when she was Colonel Spencer's wife?"

"I met her at the Post where he commanded--and, later, I saw her in Washington and New York. She had been in Pittsburgh for several months before I left--angling for some of the _nouveaux riches_, I fancy. There was plenty of gossip of her in the Clubs; though I, alone, I think, know her true history."

"And you did not warn anyone of her?"

"So long as she let my friends alone I cared not what pigeon she plucked. And the very fact that she knew I was in Pittsburgh, was enough to make her shy of anyone I would likely care for."

Dehra laughed lightly. "Maybe you were a little bit afraid of her, yourself," she said.

"Maybe I was," I admitted; "for she has a fascination almost irresistible--when she choose to exert it."

Dehra looked at me steadily.

I understood.

"Yes," said I, "she has made a try at me; once in New York; again, and only recently, in Pittsburgh. I escaped both times, thank God."

"She may make another try at you here."

I laughed. "She failed twice in America; she can scarcely win in Dornlitz when you are beside me."

"But I'm not always beside you," she objected.

"Not physically," I said.

"What chance would a mentality have against that woman's actual presence?" she asked.

"It would depend entirely on the man, and I am immune--thanks to Spencer's dead face and your sweet one."

Dehra smiled brightly. "Spencer's dead face is a mentality infinitely more potent than my living one; but I think the two should hold you. Yet, I hate that woman yonder. I believe she has dared to follow you here."

I shook my head. "Never in my life have I used words to woman such as I used to her in Pittsburgh. Oh, no, she has not followed me."

"Then, why is she here--so soon after your coming?" Dehra persisted.

"Why do thousands visit Dornlitz every month?" I asked.

"She is no casual visitor."

"Very likely," I agreed. "Madeline Spencer is not the sort to do casual travelling. She has an object--but it is not I."

"I wish I could feel secure of it."

"Do you mean it's I you doubt, dear?" I asked.

She gave me her sweetest smile. "I shall doubt you, Armand, only when you yourself order me to--and, even then, I may disregard the order."

Before such love a man falls abject in his absolute unworthiness.

"I don't deserve such trust, sweetheart," I answered humbly--and I think my voice broke in the saying.

"I'll risk it," she replied. "If I were as sure that woman's presence meant no harm to you I would be altogether easy."

"What harm could she possibly do to an Archduke of Valeria?" I laughed.

"None that I can imagine, I admit--unless she seek to discredit you with the King."

"But from what possible motive?"

"Revenge for your double scorning of her."

I laughed. "Madame Spencer has no time for such foolishness as revenge."

"I hope you may be right, dear; but a woman's intuition bids you to beware."

"Would you like to have the authorities look into her business here?" I asked.

"Yes, I surely would."

Just then Major Moore entered. I motioned him forward.

"Everything is arranged for on the Garden as Your Highness ordered," he reported.

I thanked him. "One thing more, Major," I said. "My compliments to the senior officer of the Secret Police on duty here to-night, and ask him to send me, in the morning, a full report on the parties occupying the third box on the right in this row. And do you take a good look at them yourself; it may be well for you to know their faces."

"What a satisfactory Aide," said Dehra. "His eyes didn't even waver toward that other box."

"Not only that," I answered; "but, when Moore does do his looking, those in that box won't know it, you may be sure."

Then the bells rang for the last act--and the Radnors and Courtney were announced.