Chapter II: Revolution and Rose-Water

Princess Eirene Theophanis sat alone in the garden at Bashi Konak, her fingers busied with embroidery, her mind with the progress made by her husband’s cause since their arrival at the little Dardanian capital. The Prince of Dardania was a true friend, an ally to be depended upon. Eirene had felt this from the moment she perceived that he had sent his brother-in-law in command of the guard which was to meet the travellers at the frontier and escort them to the city. True, Colonel Roburoff was only a handsome Scythian officer with whom Princess Ludmilla of Dardania had made a runaway match, but her brother had taken the couple back into favour, and the successful adventurer commanded his Guard. That he should be sent to receive Prince and Princess Theophanis showed a just sense of their exact position, as claimants _de jure_ of a right not yet recognised _de facto_, paying a private visit from which important public events might hereafter develop. The same consideration had been shown in allotting them quarters. Colonel Roburoff had apologised for the fact that they were accommodated, not at the Palace, but in a house hired for the occasion, on the ground that the royal dwelling was already inconveniently crowded, but had pointed out, with due mystery, the superior opportunities thus afforded for conference with friends and supporters. Moreover, on the occasion of the meeting at the frontier, Zoe had received, from a confidential attendant of the Princess of Dardania, a bouquet gathered, so she was assured, by the royal hands themselves, and concealing a little scented note which read, “To the profound, the accomplished Zeto, from the humblest of her admirers, Emilia.” Even now Zoe was spending the morning at the Palace, whither she had been summoned by a special messenger to cheer the Princess, who was prevented by slight indisposition from accompanying her husband to the arena to watch the games. Eirene reflected with pleasure that not only was this romantic friendship beneficial in the extreme to the Theophanis cause, but also that the Princess’s devotion was likely to keep Zoe a good deal out of Wylie’s way.

There was an old feud between Eirene and Wylie, which had only been temporarily bridged over when Zoe’s rejection of him called forth her sympathies. He had seldom shown the Princess sufficient deference to satisfy her, though he was never otherwise than polite, and she had an uneasy suspicion that he despised the various little assumptions by which she sought to assert her dignity. Maurice gave her no support in these matters, she thought bitterly, and she was sure she had caught Armitage laughing when she hinted that it was more correct to say he had gone out “in attendance on” the Prince than merely “with” him. Why, even when they were about to enter the royal carriages sent to convey them to Bashi Konak, Maurice had flatly refused to let Zoe sit with her back to the horses. “But you are the Emperor, Maurice,” his wife had pleaded. “I’m not Emperor yet,” he replied promptly; “and when I am, if the imperial funds don’t run to a separate carriage for Zoe, one or other of us will stay at home.” Trials like this made Eirene almost despair of her husband. Other people might think such things trifles, but to her, brought up in a Court, their real importance was manifest. How was Maurice ever to assume his proper place if he would not submit to the rules governing his caste? Even his wife could not prevent him from taking his own line. When she had succeeded in goading him to a certain course of action, as often as not he would somehow contrive to carry it out in a wholly unexpected way. It was he who had sent for Wylie, and disconcerted her grievously by doing so, for she had relied on his English dislike for foreigners to keep him isolated from his supporters and dependent on her for counsel. It did not mollify her displeasure when, in answer to her remonstrances, he remarked, “I want one honest man at my back that I can trust, to look after you and Zoe and the little chap, if anything happens to me.” “I could trust our people,” she had said reproachfully; to which he replied, “Oh, could you? I couldn’t,” and went out to post his letter. And here was Wylie established as Maurice’s guide, philosopher, and friend, in no way inclined, apparently, to presume upon the favour shown him, but still the one man in whom Zoe had ever shown more than a contemptuous interest. Almost unconsciously, Eirene had come to regard her sister-in-law, during the last few years of planning and plotting, as an asset that might be valuable, rejoicing when she refused various eligible offers. But of what avail were those refusals if she turned again, after all, to the man for whose sake they were made? If only Zoe could have been safely engaged to some desirable person before Wylie reappeared on the scene! As that was not the case, however, it was a moral duty to keep her from throwing herself away on an obviously unsuitable man, who could contribute nothing but his sword to further the great cause, and whose loyalty was already certain.

While these thoughts were passing through Eirene’s mind, some one came into sight at the end of the garden path, some one who was cheerfully contributing a good deal more than a sword to the cause. Princess Theophanis knew, though her husband did not, the exact nature of the cargo carried at the present moment by Armitage’s yacht, which was cruising at large without its owner in the eastern Mediterranean, and paying only rare and hurried visits to territorial waters. Armitage was a valuable asset without any drawbacks such as attached to Wylie, and Eirene felt that Maurice had shown even more than his usual unwisdom in declining to accede to her suggestion, and dispense with his old friend’s services, when she announced that Armitage would take part in their venture. She met him with a friendly smile as he came towards her down the path.

“I have just had a letter from Waters--that’s my captain--which will relieve your mind, ma’am,” he said. “It was all a false alarm about that Pannonian man-of-war they thought was shadowing them. Waters took a bold course and went on board her to ask if they could give him any news of me, and they paid him a return visit quite in an unsuspicious spirit.”

“I wish we could get rid of the arms,” said Eirene anxiously. “The slightest accident, or an incautious remark from one of your crew, might----”

“Give the whole show away,” supplied Armitage, as she paused. “I suppose we could arrange to hand the things over to one of the bands if we could fix on the right spot to land them; but I thought that wasn’t what you wanted, ma’am?”

“No, no; of course not! It is absolutely essential that we should keep a supply in our own hands, that we may not be dependent upon any of the Committees. And we must not land and conceal it on any of the islands, in case it should be necessary to act suddenly. Even now I fear we may not be able to communicate with your yacht quickly enough in case of a crisis.”

“I have thought of a way of doing that, ma’am. Waters is lying at present in a little harbour called Pentikosti, just to the south of the Dardanian frontier. He has made friends with the Roumi officials, and applied a little palm-oil judiciously, giving them to understand that I may come down over the mountains at any time, and the yacht is to wait for me. They will give him every facility for hearing from us, and he will stand on and off outside the harbour, and keep a good look-out both ways.”

“It is excellent!” said Eirene warmly. “Your ingenuity is as admirable as your helpfulness, Lord Armitage. I trust that one day I shall be able to reward both.”

Such phrases were often on Eirene’s lips, as in the days when they had been received with mingled scorn and resentment by her ignorant fellow-travellers, but it was a novelty for them to be welcomed as this was.

“I don’t know about one day,” said Armitage, with desperate boldness. “You could do something for me now, ma’am, that would leave me in your debt for ever.”

She looked at him with surprise plainly tinged with displeasure, but her voice was no less gracious than before. “In our present circumstances I had hardly hoped to be able to reward our friends otherwise than by my thanks, so I am happier than I thought. What is there that the Prince and I can do for you, Lord Armitage?”

“It is Princess Zoe--I love her,” he broke out. “If I could make her care for me, would you oppose it?”

Eirene’s first impulse was to gain time for thought. “But you--I never thought of you,” she said confusedly. “It was always--I mean, you are not the person.”

“I have cared for her ever since the night I first saw her by the camp-fire under Hadgi-Antoniou,” he answered; “but of course I knew how it was with Wylie, and I tried to put all thought of her out of my head. And I was always so hard-up in those days, too; I had nothing to offer her. Then when the title and all the rest of it came to me, there was still Wylie to think of; I made sure he would come back some day and ask her again, and she would have him. But now that he has given up all thoughts of her----”

“Given up all thoughts of her!” repeated Eirene. “How can you possibly know?”

“He told me,” said Armitage, unshaken. “Said that that sort of thing didn’t interest him now.”

“Oh, but that’s only because he is feeling ill and miserable,” said Eirene quickly, but checked herself. After all, even if this change of feeling on Wylie’s part was only temporary, why not take advantage of it? A marriage between Armitage and Zoe might not be all that her ambition had planned, but it offered certain solid benefits. Eirene was not blind to the fact that the support of a British peer, with an ancient title and a fair amount of wealth, had already proved useful in investing the Theophanis cause with an atmosphere of plausibility--even respectability, and it would be a wise stroke to attach him permanently to the family. There could be no question of putting pressure on Zoe, of course, and Maurice, in his unreasonableness, would see to it that the final decision rested freely with her; but pending the prospect of a more magnificent alliance, there could be no harm in not destroying Armitage’s hopes. Eirene spoke low and confidentially. “I can make no promises for Zoe,” she said; “for what you have told me may surprise her as much as it does me, but I see no reason--at any rate at present--why she should refuse you. Certainly I can promise that I shall not set myself against the idea.”

“You are awfully good, ma’am. I don’t think I could be more interested in Teffany’s--I mean the Prince’s--cause than I was before, but it makes one frightfully keen to feel that one’s in it oneself in a sort of way. I know I have nothing to offer Princess Zoe compared with what she might expect, but----”

“I have found my happiness in marrying an English gentleman, and I can wish nothing better for my sister,” said Eirene, with something of reproof in her voice, and Armitage wondered how he had erred. He could not know that the mere suspicion of failure in the great scheme, the hint at a possible future in which Lord Armitage would once more be a bridegroom in no way to be despised by the sister of Maurice Teffany of Stone Acton, had become intolerable to Eirene. Zoe had misjudged her when she told Wylie that Mr Teffany-Wise’s legacy had led her to make a religion of the Theophanis claims. It was the birth of her son, in whose veins ran the blood of both the elder and younger lines of the descendants of John Theophanis, that had roused afresh in Eirene the ambition which had slumbered a little under her husband’s influence during the first years of their marriage. Constantine Theophanis must yet sit on the throne of Czarigrad, and be invested with the imperial diadem in the cathedral of Hagion Pneuma, and to this end his parents must submit, if necessary, to the humiliating task of accepting office as the nominees of the Powers, to masquerading as temporary tenants where they were the rightful inheritors. This Eirene could do without a murmur, but she could not contemplate returning unsuccessful to Stone Acton, to meet the half-veiled contempt of the acquaintances whose friendly advances she had rebuffed, and to hear them ask whether she and Mr Teffany thought of sending their little boy to the Grammar-school in the neighbouring town? “No? and the education is so thoroughly good! A public school? Mr Teffany was at Harrow? Oh, of course, but in these days of reduced rents---- And boys picked up such expensive ideas at public schools.” Eirene drew in her breath sharply, and said, in the tone which Armitage had learnt to interpret as a dismissal, “You may rely on me. If you want my advice at any time I shall be delighted to give it. Do I see Professor Panagiotis coming through the house? Bring him to me at once, please.”

Armitage obeyed, retiring when he had finished his errand. The Professor waited until he was out of sight before he spoke. “You have received further news from Scythia, madame?” he asked then, but rather as though stating a fact than putting a question. Eirene, who had guessed before this that he contrived to make acquaintance with at least the outside of the letters intended for his nominal employers, betrayed no resentment.

“Yes, I have another letter from the Grand-Duchess Sonya,” she said; “and I can hardly doubt that she writes with the knowledge of the Empress. The tone is markedly friendly, and she speaks more than once of the sympathy with which they are watching events here, and their strong hope that the Prince will be able to prove his title.”

The Professor’s face did not show the satisfaction that might have been expected. “It is too good,” he said. “I distrust this excessive amiability.”

“I think they are surprised at our strength,” said Eirene quickly, “and already bidding for our future support.”

“Without an effort to realise the hopes of centuries, which our success would frustrate?” asked the Professor. “No, madame. There is something behind. It is this warm encouragement that perplexes me. Tacit sympathy I should have expected, but coupled with warnings against rashness, and with every other recommendation that might tend to cause delay.”

“But they cannot know how fast we are moving,” she urged eagerly. “You yourself have said that the reasonableness of the delegates astonishes you.”

“True, madame; the impression produced by his Highness is most gratifying, Greek and Slav both believing that they have found their champion in him. The military proposals of Colonel Wylie have also been well received. But as I said just now, it is too good. I should wish to see more opposition. Knives have not been drawn once during the sittings. One delegate’s hand went to his revolver during a discussion which had become a little heated, but the Prince borrowed the weapon at once to look at, and kept it on the table before him the rest of the morning.”

“Ah, you see, they know him already, and they do not care to oppose him. Our task will be shorter than we expected. The delegates will swear allegiance to him, and he will have Christian Emathia at his feet. Then----”

“Then, madame, we shall have to deal with the Powers--a very different matter. The conscience of Europe has to be roused before they can be induced to intervene.”

“By massacres, I suppose?” Eirene shuddered. “The Prince will never agree to that.”

“The Prince will not be consulted, madame. The lamented philanthropist to whom the Emathia of the future owes so much recognised that in certain qualities your Royal Highness has the advantage over your husband, while in other respects he is superior. It is this combination that is of such promise for your future rule. You will not shrink from the measures necessary to bring that rule about.”

“No, it would be criminal to hold back now.”

“Madame, you put into words my very thoughts. Assume--though I cannot believe it possible--that this conference closes next week, having arrived at a unanimous decision to support your husband. There will be just time for the delegates to return to their districts before the snow melts sufficiently to allow of the movement of troops. The Roumis are already irritated by our successes of the autumn, and the attacks that have been made even during the winter on their outposts. They will be in a mood to act energetically, and repress all outbreaks with severity. You know what that means. Outbreaks will occur. They will be put down. The details will be spread far and wide. Christendom will be roused, will send representatives to inquire into the state of affairs. We shall continue to resist. The Roumis will continue to act with vigour. The Powers inquire into our demands. We desire a constitutional government under the suzerainty of Roum, but with a Christian Governor appointed by the Powers and responsible to them, and for the post we suggest the descendant of our ancient Emperors, to whose banner all sections of Christians in Emathia are willing to rally. We may not at first obtain all we ask, but Minoa has taught us the value of perseverance.”

“But if the Roumis should not act with severity?” broke in Eirene. “This new Greek Vali of Therma, appointed in response to the protests of the Powers in the autumn--he will not promote massacres.”

“For Skopiadi Pasha’s influence I would give that!” cried the Professor, snapping his fingers. “It is not he who rules,--he has enough to do to look after his own safety,--but the Military Governor, Jalal-ud-din Pasha. He commands the troops in the city and in the field; he is one of the old school, and believes in prompt repression. He would not hesitate to arrange for Skopiadi’s removal if he opposed him--and truly we could ask for nothing better!”

“At least,” urged Eirene, “let there be as little bloodshed as possible. Could we not contrive to rescue and arm the threatened Christians before they could be massacred? Lord Armitage’s yacht, with plenty of rifles and cartridges on board, is lying at Pentikosti, ready to sail night or day.”

“And then where would be our moral effect on the minds of the Powers, madame? You are like most ladies who indulge in revolutions--willing to assent to any amount of bloodshed provided it takes place out of your sight and hearing. A massacre is necessary, but you may well salve your conscience by laying the blame on the Powers, who will be moved by nothing else.”

“I think you have an appointment to meet Dr Terminoff now that the games are over for the morning?” Eirene rose with marked displeasure, which the Professor chose to disregard.

“I am honoured by your recollection, madame. You may rely on me to keep you informed of any new points that may arise. May I also depend on you for early information of any suspicious circumstances that strike you? It is some underground action on the part of Pannonia that I fear, for her silence, coupled with the benevolence of Scythia, upsets all my calculations.”