Chapter VIII: Paul and the Princess

After a brief interval of repose Paul awoke, and had scarcely donned his uniform when a court chamberlain, carrying a silver gilt staff, presented himself with a message to the effect that, "The Princess of Czernova, having learned that the illustrious defender of Tajapore is at the present time within her palace, desires to hold a private interview with him in the White Saloon."

The chamberlain went on to say that though court dress or military uniform was _de rigueur_ in such interviews, he had been expressly commanded to state that on the present occasion the princess would waive all ceremony.

Having no other attire with him, Paul had of necessity to go to this momentous meeting in his uniform, and accordingly he set off at once with the chamberlain, who on the way ventured to remind him of the etiquette to be observed during the approaching interview: he must stand unless requested to sit; make no observation of his own, but simply reply to the questions addressed him; he must not withdraw till the princess should give the signal, and in withdrawing he must keep his face turned towards her.

All this, and much more, from Silver Staff touched Paul with a sense of humor, when he recalled the sweet and unrestrained intercourse at Castel Nuovo.

On entering the White Saloon Paul perceived Barbara seated at a table, and pencil in hand, ostensibly occupied in annotating state-papers. She wore a dainty dress of white tulle sparkling with silver embroidery over ivory satin.

She was evidently in a state of nervousness. The pencil trembled within her fingers. She did not glance at Paul, but kept her eyes upon the papers before her.

Now that the chamberlain had withdrawn, she was expecting Paul to come forward with the greeting, "Barbara!" Nay, if the truth must be told, she was longing to be folded in his arms, and to hear again the passionate language which he had addressed to her on that memorable day of their parting.

But to her disappointment Paul seemed as formal as a courtier. With his plumed helmet doffed he stood at the distance prescribed by court etiquette waiting for her to speak.

Quick to interpret his secret thought, she saw that he recognized the existence of a wide gulf between them, a gulf that could be crossed only from her side; if there was to be a renewal of love it was for her to take the initiative.

This attitude on his part, though studiously correct, embarrassed her exceedingly.

"I little thought," she began in a low and faltering voice, "when reading of the brave deeds of one Captain Woodville, that the doer of them was known to me. Captain Cressingham," she continued, reverting to the more familiar name, "for two years I have been under the belief that you perished in that Dalmatian earthquake."

"Your Highness, I have been under a similar belief regarding yourself."

"Knowing, as you do," she continued, aimlessly tracing lines on the paper before her, "that I cannot be the real Princess Natalie, you are perhaps of opinion that I have no right to the throne of Czernova?"

"Princess--no! I will believe anything rather than that you are an usurper or an impostor."

The energy with which he spoke attested the sincerity of his belief.

Now for the first time since his entrance the princess raised her eyes, and their flash of gratitude thrilled Paul.

"Your faith in me is not misplaced, for I am truly the lawful Princess of Czernova, though a strange necessity has compelled me to assume the name of my sister Natalie. You shall have the story anon, Captain Cressingham," she continued, in a curiously labored voice, as if the choice of words were a difficulty, "we were parted in a very strange way. You will perhaps have guessed that I was carried off by the orders of Cardinal Ravenna, who acted, however, under the authority of my father, Prince Thaddeus.

"They justified the secret abduction on the ground that in my new sphere it would be wise, nay absolutely necessary, to break entirely with the past. But for my own part," added the princess softly, and with the color mantling her cheek, "I do not see the necessity for ignoring all former ties."

"Your Highness has not forgotten the days spent at Castel Nuovo?"

"No, nor that day in Isola Sacra. Captain Cressingham, I am a Lilieska, and the herald will tell you that the motto of the House of Lilieski is '_Keep to troth_.'"

Paul caught his breath at these words, the significance of which was not to be mistaken.

That the lovely convent maiden should care for such an unworthy fellow as himself had been a marvel to him two years previously; but that now, when a princess, and capable of forming a brilliant alliance with king or noble, she should still adhere to him, was more marvellous still.

Barbara, no longer able to endure this state of tension, rose to her feet, and with unsteady step moved towards Paul.

"When the suitor is of inferior rank," she said with a strange catch in her voice, "court etiquette permits a princess to make the first advance in love. Thus, then, do I avail myself of the privilege. Paul," she continued, taking his hands in her own, and striving to look into his averted face, "have you forgotten your words to me on that sunny day in the old Greek temple? Day and night for two years I have never ceased to think of them. Yes, though you may reproach me with the name of Bora, your image has never been absent from my mind. Does my new rank embarrass you? To you I am the same Barbara now as I was then. I long to lay aside my state; to wander again through the pine-woods of Dalmatia; to handle an oar on the blue Adriatic as on that day when we were so cruelly parted. Ah, heaven! how cold, how silent you are! Why do you turn away your eyes? Paul, look at me," she entreated wistfully.

Paul, knowing full well that her attachment to him was certain to create confusion in Czernovese politics, had come fully prepared to sacrifice his own happiness to her interests. But this appeal on her part overcame him. He could not resist the temptation presented by the beautiful face so close to his own. Moved by a sudden impulse, he clasped her passionately in his arms.

"Oh! this cannot be," he murmured a moment afterwards. "It is madness."

"Then let me be mad," she said with a low sweet laugh as she clung to him.

"You are a princess, and I am merely a military officer."

"And where would the princess now be but for the officer who found her wandering in the wild-wood?"

"Princess--Barbara--I love you--"

"I have been waiting for those words, Paul."

"I love you--how deeply no words of mine can tell; but when I think of the difference in our rank--"

"But you must not think of it, Paul," she interrupted, still within the circle of his arms, and placing her finger with a witching air on his lip.

"It must be that we part. The law of Czernova forbids our union."

"The Diet shall repeal that law."

"Your ministers, your nobility, your people will never tolerate an untitled Englishman."

"I am ruler in Czernova," she answered proudly. "No one shall dictate to me as to my choice of a consort."

"The Duke of Bora--what of him?" said Paul, with difficulty pronouncing the name that had become doubly hateful to him.

Barbara's eyes drooped. She hid her face on his breast.

"Forgive me, Paul. Do not reproach me with his name. Remember that I thought you dead. I have never forgotten you, nor ceased to love your memory. It was political necessity that drove me to the arms of Bora. On my coming here from Dalmatia in the character of Princess Natalie, I was compelled by the _rôle_ I had assumed to receive the addresses of the duke, addresses which I at heart loathed. It had been my intention to break with him ultimately; but of late, since I have been threatened with deposition by Cardinal Ravenna,--yes, deposition," she repeated with flashing eyes,--"I have weakly thought of marrying the duke; for inasmuch as he is the heir-apparent I should thus ensure my rank, if not my power, as princess. But that idea is gone now; I cast it from me forever."

"But why? Is not the necessity for conciliating the duke as great to-day as yesterday?"

"No; for if I should have lost my crown I should have lost the one thing I held most dear; if I lose it now--"

She paused in her utterance.

"Yes, if you should lose it now--?"

"Have I not you?" she answered with a soft pressure of her arms. Paul would have deserved instant knouting if he had not kissed the princess for that saying. Then, becoming grave again he said,--

"You say the cardinal threatens you with deposition? Why this hostility on his part?"

"Because I will not dance to his piping."

"And by adhering to me you will increase his hostility, since with him I shall not be a _persona gratissima_."

"He cannot ruin me without ruining himself, and ambition will cause him to pause ere doing that."

"But," said the puzzled Paul, "since you are the daughter of Prince Thaddeus, how is it possible for him to dethrone you, and why is it necessary that you should personate the Princess Natalie?"

All this time Barbara had been standing clasped within Paul's arms; but now, taking him by the hand, she led him to a seat, and sat down beside him.

"The story of my life, as far as it was known to me, I told you at Isola Sacra. Let me now supplement it with details which I have since learned."

The following is a brief outline of Barbara's narration.

The late Prince Thaddeus had in youth contracted a marriage with a young English lady named Hilda Tressilian, who lived in the neighborhood of Warsaw. Thaddeus, aware that his father would be averse to this match, kept it a secret, visiting his wife at intervals. During his absence in Czernova Hilda died suddenly, and was buried ere the prince had time to gaze upon her lifeless form.

On reaching the scene of her death, Thaddeus learned that there had been a daughter still-born, the truth being that the infant was in reality alive, Hilda's servants having been bribed to relate this falsehood by Pasqual Ravenna, at that time a youthful priest of ambitious views. His object was to train the child in the Catholic faith,--Thaddeus was a Greek,--and ultimately to restore her to her rightful dignity as Princess of Czernova; the interests of the Latin Church would be thereby advanced. And for eighteen years Ravenna, while rising from one ecclesiastical dignity to another, never lost sight of this scheme; and, when he deemed the time ripe, secretly apprised Thaddeus of the existence of Barbara.

That prince, pressed by political necessity, had made a second marriage, the issue of which was an only child, Natalie, born eighteen months after Barbara.

This Natalie, to whom Thaddeus had become passionately attached, was now threatened with exclusion from the throne by the existence of her elder half-sister. Thaddeus, suspecting a plot on the part of the cardinal, refused to acknowledge his resuscitated daughter; and for a time the matter remained in abeyance.

Some months later the Princess Natalie, being in a somewhat delicate state of health, was advised by the court physician to take a tour in the countries around the Adriatic; and Thaddeus, prompted either by fear or by some other motive, permitted Cardinal Ravenna to take charge of the princess. Among other places Dalmatia was visited, and here, while at Castel Nuovo, Natalie died.

"In what way?" asked Paul.

"She committed suicide," replied Barbara, in a whisper of awe.

"You have proof of this?"

"I have my father's word. He had come to Dalmatia purposely to see Natalie, and was in the neighborhood of Castel Nuovo at the time of the tragedy. He was at once sent for. Oh! no, there was nothing suspicious in her death," continued Barbara, observant of the misgiving expressed on Paul's face. "Do you think that my father, who loved Natalie so dearly, would have connived at a crime?"

Paul considered it not at all unlikely that Thaddeus had been deceived by the cardinal. He refrained, however, from expressing his doubts.

"In what way did she commit suicide?"

"She stabbed herself before any one could prevent her. My father had the story from Lambro and Jacintha, who, as well as the cardinal, were eye-witnesses of the deed."

Paul was of opinion that the cardinal who had bribed servants to utter the falsehood of Barbara's death would certainly employ the like expedient where his own guilt was concerned.

The more Paul recalled Jacintha's air of terror and her admission as to the mysterious oath taken on the Holy Sacrament, the more he became convinced that Natalie Lilieska had met her death by foul play. But dead princesses tell no tales; and the disappearance of the two witnesses of the deed, Lambro and Jacintha, in the submergence of Castel Nuovo, made it extremely improbable that the charge would ever be brought home to the cardinal.

It was agreed, Barbara continued, that the scandal of Princess Natalie's suicide must be kept secret. Her body, sealed in a leaden coffin, was concealed beneath the flooring of the cardinal's study at Castel Nuovo, to be removed at a convenient opportunity to the princely vault at Slavowitz. That opportunity never came, and the waves of the Adriatic now flowed over the body of the Princess Natalie.

It was clear that unless Thaddeus consented to recognize the convent-maiden as his daughter, the crown of Czernova would devolve upon one whom he personally disliked, namely, upon Bora, though Natalie herself had accepted the duke's addresses with pleasure.

Accordingly, Thaddeus, accompanied by the cardinal, set off for the convent of the Holy Sacrament, to see the daughter whom he had never yet seen. On his arrival, however, he learned with dismay that Barbara had fled the day previously.

Many weeks were spent by the prince and the cardinal in searching for her in the neighboring province and Bosnia. They had been led into this region by a story to the effect that she had been seen journeying in a caravan of gypsies.

Disappointed in their quest, Thaddeus and Ravenna returned to Castel Nuovo, arriving there by a singular chance on the very day that Paul and Barbara had chosen for their excursion to Isola Sacra. They instantly resolved to send over a band of men for the purpose of carrying off Barbara, and of leaving behind on the island the dangerous young Englishman who was unknowingly wooing a princess.

Their plan succeeded.

Fortunately, Barbara and her abductors did not pass that night at Castel Nuovo. In the mist the boat was carried by the current some miles lower down the coast; and captors and captive lodged at an inn which remained unaffected by the earthquake that had devastated the rest of Dalmatia.

Barbara's passion of grief and indignation at being torn from Paul was so violent, that the prince and the cardinal had no other course than to promise that she should have her own way as regarded the young Englishman. But next morning, to the despair of Barbara, the relief of Thaddeus, and the secret joy of Ravenna, it was seen that Isola Sacra had disappeared beneath the waves. It was naturally concluded that Paul had gone down with it.

Grief-stricken at this ending of her love-dream, Barbara was more disposed to return to the convent and assume the veil of a nun than to accept the prospective crown of Czernova; but finally she was persuaded to this latter course by Thaddeus, who, convinced now that Barbara was indeed his daughter, displayed all a father's tenderness.

There would be a difficulty, however, in persuading the Czernovese people to accept as the daughter of their prince a maiden of whom they had never before heard.

Now it so happened that the church in which Thaddeus's marriage with Hilda Tressilian had taken place had been subsequently destroyed by fire, and with it the documentary evidence tending to prove Barbara's identity and legitimacy.

Thaddeus was thus unable to establish her relationship to himself. The Diet might be pardoned for refusing to take his bare word as proof. Bora, too, would loudly declare that Barbara was a supposititious child brought forward to deprive him of the throne.

In view, therefore, of her marvellous resemblance to Natalie, it was decided by the prince and the cardinal that Barbara should lose her own identity and should personate the late princess.

This Barbara had done, and with such art and tact that not even Bora suspected the pardonable, if not altogether innocent manoeuvre by which she had contrived to secure her rights.

"With the exception of yourself," said Barbara in conclusion, "the cardinal is the sole depositary of my secret, for not even to Zabern, my confidant in most things, have I revealed it. Now you understand the power which the cardinal professes to wield over me, and why he insolently presumes to menace me with deposition. But he shall not succeed. Zabern is my hope. Zabern, crafty and subtle, will find a way of defeating the cardinal's machinations; and then," she murmured, "and then--he shall regret his threat to dethrone the Princess of Czernova."

Barbara, menaced on the one side by the cardinal and on the other by the Czar, had not a very firm hold on her throne, at least in Paul's judgment; and now by her attachment to himself she was still further imperilling her position. But he ceased to argue the matter. Any man with those lovely arms around him might be pardoned for shutting his eyes to the future.

"And so your mother was an Englishwoman?" he remarked, seeing in that fact a possible explanation of Barbara's pro-Anglian tastes.

"Yes, I am half English," she replied, "and I am glad for your sake that I am such. You have not told any one of our prior meeting in Dalmatia?"

"I have kept it a secret."

"Let it remain such. And our love, too, must be kept secret,--at least, for a time," she added with a sigh, for she loved open dealing, and the hiding of her real faith, together with the assumption of her sister's name, had never ceased to be a source of pain.

"How happily we sit here," murmured Barbara, "giving no thought to him who is lying dead! You were with Trevisa at the time of his murder; tell me how it happened."

Paul gave an account of Trevisa's death, in itself a sad event, and one rendered still more painful to Barbara by the thought that it had occurred so shortly after his dismissal from his secretaryship. The sorrowful look with which he had received her decision would never fade from her mind. She felt his loss keenly, inasmuch as he had been her friend as well as her amanuensis, and for a long time she sat talking of Trevisa, of his loyalty and his good services.

"I shall require a new secretary," she said. "You, Paul, must fill Trevisa's place. Nay, forgive me for being thus imperious. I speak as if I had the right to your obedience. My commands are for my ministers, not for you."

She slid playfully upon her knees before him, and put her hands together with a demure air.

"May I have you for my secretary?"

Paul, though sometimes given to day-dreams, had certainly never anticipated the time when a fair princess would be kneeling at his feet. He attempted to raise her.

"I will not rise till you grant my request."

No post could be more acceptable to Paul than this secretaryship, since he would thus live in daily companionship with Barbara; and, moreover, the handling of her correspondence would initiate him into the secrets of that fascinating subject, European diplomacy.

"Are you won over yet?" she asked.

"Who may gainsay a princess?" said Paul. "But are you certain that my appointment will not give offence?"

"I reign over a divided realm. If I appoint a Pole I shall have the Muscovites against me; if I appoint a Muscovite I shall have the Poles against me. Therefore I will choose my secretary from neither party."

"In order to unite both against you," smiled Paul. "But I fear, Barbara, that I am ill-qualified for the post."

"So much the better, Paul, for it will be charming to be your instructress," she replied, delighted that he had accepted the appointment. "What will your sovereign say at losing a brave soldier?"

"The princess is now my sovereign."

"Nay, not your sovereign, Paul, but your equal."

She rose and walked to a buhl table on which rested a golden diadem, and returning with it, she placed it playfully upon his head.

"See how well it becomes you," she said, drawing him gently towards a mirror. "There! every inch a prince."

Paul smiled oddly at his reflection in the glass. He to wear the crown of Czernova! The idea seemed too fantastic to be entertained. For the last four and twenty hours he seemed to have been playing a _rôle_ in some romantic opera rather than to have been living in the world of reality.

He put the diadem aside.

"It is not a crown I want, Barbara, but your own sweet self."

"And you have me, Paul," she said, kissing him affectionately. "Nothing but death shall part us. And now," she continued, quitting his arms with reluctance, "we must put on our masks and play our parts, for I am about to summon the chamberlain."

On the appearance of Silver Staff, Barbara said,--

"Call the marshal to our presence."

Zabern was soon found. On entering he glanced keenly at Paul's face as if expecting to gain from it some idea of the character of his long interview with the princess; but Paul, when he chose, could be as inscrutable as Zabern himself, and his face revealed nothing.

"What news of Russakoff?" asked the princess.

"Your Highness, I regret to say that the spy is still at large."

"The ruffians of Russograd, who slew Trevisa because he was an Englishman and loyal to me, shall find that they have gained little by their deed, for I herewith replace him by an Englishman equally as loyal. Marshal, my new secretary."

Zabern bowed and answered like a courtier.

"No appointment could give the cabinet and the Diet greater pleasure," he replied, knowing that he was committing himself to a doubtful statement.

"It is a matter in which the cabinet and the Diet have no concern," replied Barbara with a touch of hauteur in her voice.

"Your Highness, Miroslav is without, charged with a question from the Duke of Bora."

"What says that law-breaker?"

"His grace is desirous of learning from the princess how long his detention is to last."

"Till the mark on my secretary's cheek shall have disappeared. If his grace be dissatisfied with our justice, it is open to him to appeal to the law-courts of Czernova, whose sentence he will find considerably less lenient than our own."

"Your Highness, I shall have extreme pleasure in conveying that message to the duke."