Chapter IX: A Display of Swordsmanship

On quitting the presence of the princess, Paul and Zabern took their way through the palace gardens, where they were met by two individuals in uniform, whom the marshal introduced to Paul. The more youthful of the two, who had fair hair, blue eyes, and a comely face that seemed to indicate habitual good humor, was Dorislas, and he held the office of Minister of Finance. The other, a somewhat sullen-looking personage, was Miroslav, the governor of the Citadel, "and," added Zabern, "the present guardian of your friend the duke."

"Ah! the duke," said Dorislas to the governor. "I marvel, Miroslav, that you have not yet been called upon to defend your Bastille. What are your friends in Russograd thinking of, that they so tamely submit to the duke's imprisonment?"

"The marshal's placards explain the reason. At the first attempt upon the Citadel the duke is to be brought forth upon the battlements, and summarily shot."

"And therefore," commented Zabern, "it is a pity that they do not make the attempt."

"Well, you know the marshal and his ways by this time," laughed Dorislas, addressing Miroslav. "When to-night you see a wild mob with blackened faces advancing upon the Citadel and crying out for the release of the duke, be sure that Zabern is somewhere among them, disguised and playing the part of chief instigator."

Zabern and his two friends, so it appeared, were on their way to the _salle d'armes_, which stood in the centre of the palace gardens. In this hall it was their custom, provided that state affairs were not too pressing, to fence daily. Zabern invited Paul to accompany them.

"And the cipher despatch, marshal?" said the new secretary, who, having Barbara's interests at heart, was desirous of beginning work at once.

"A little fencing on your part will quicken both blood and brain."

So Paul acquiesced, somewhat reluctantly, and while he and the governor of the Citadel strode on in front, Zabern, adopting a more tardy pace, followed in the rear conversing with Dorislas.

"Marshal, what is this mystery?" asked the Finance Minister with a significant glance in Paul's direction. "There is a strange rumor that he and the princess were together in Dalmatia, and that she there presented him with a sapphire seal which had been given to her by the duke himself. Within twelve hours of his coming to Czernova he is challenged to a duel by Bora. Her Highness, on hearing of the affair, flies to rescue the Englishman, sends her affianced husband to prison, but permits the other duellist to go free. And now you bring the amazing news that the princess has made this Woodville her secretary. What is the meaning of it all?"

"You had better ask her Highness," said Zabern dryly, and abruptly changing the subject of conversation, he added: "Did anything of importance take place at the Diet last night?"

"What, marshal! haven't you heard?" cried Dorislas, his face expressing the extreme of amazement.

"Heard? I've heard nothing. I was occupied in searching for that assassin Russakoff till seven this morning, since when I have been asleep. What new folly, then, did you and the rest of the ministry perpetrate in my absence?"

"You know, of course, that the first order of the evening was the notification to the House of the princess's change of faith. Scarcely had Radzivil risen to make his statement, when he was interrupted by Lipski with a sneering remark to the effect that the premier might spare his words, for the Diet knew very well what he was going to say, and that it would have been more becoming on the part of the princess to have taken the House into her confidence earlier, and not to have waited till her hand had been forced by the article contained in his newspaper, the 'Kolokol.'"

"Damn his insolence! And of course the Muscovite crew howled applause? Was Ravenna in his place?"

"No; the cardinal, having been the chief instrument in the princess's conversion, shrank somewhat from facing the wrathful Muscovites last night. He preferred the opera-house."

"The coward! Would that I had been there!"

"What! at the opera? Yes, it was well worth visiting, because--"

"A truce to your fooling. What happened next?"

"After order had been restored--for, of course, Radzivil's statement provoked a devil of a row--Lipski rose and begged leave to bring in a new bill. Lamenting the increased taxation--and you know, marshal, my Budget is devilishly heavy this year--he introduced a measure for the appropriation of all plate, jewels, and money belonging to the conventual establishments throughout Czernova, such wealth to be devoted to the needs of the state."

"Ha!" cried Zabern. "This is nothing else but an attack upon the princess's faith. 'I have become a Catholic,' she avers. 'Then we will plunder your Church,' is, in effect, the Muscovite answer."

"True, marshal; for though the bill affects to treat both creeds, Latin and Greek, alike, yet inasmuch as the Latin convents are numerous and wealthy, while those of the Greek faith are few and comparatively poor--"

"It's a case of 'I'll share my kopek with you, if you'll share your rouble with me,' eh?"

"Just so, marshal. Well, the bill was rushed through its first reading--"

"Fire and brimstone! where, then, was our party with its splendid majority?"

"You forget that Rubini was here last night."

"Who's he?" asked Zabern, whose ignorance of everybody and everything outside the circle of politics was simply astounding.

"Come, marshal, you jest--Rubini, the Italian, the great opera-singer."

"The devil fly away with him! Well?"

"The opera was 'The Bohemian Girl.' Rubini took the part of Thaddeus. It would have brought the tears to your eyes, marshal, to hear him sing, 'When the fair land of Poland was ploughed.'"

"It would--to hear a damnable Italian turning the sorrows of our fatherland into a medium for putting rouble-notes into his pockets. But what has this to do with the Diet?"

"Why, most of those on our side of the House went to hear Rubini."

"Including a simpleton named Dorislas. And so Lipski and his Muscovite crew took advantage of the emptiness of the benches on the Right to spring this new bill upon the Diet. But, sword of St. Michael, didn't Radzivil send Opalinski to the opera-house to summon away the absentee fools?"

"He did, with this result. When Opalinski arrived Rubini was singing, and our whip became so entranced that he quite forgot the errand on which he had come, till--till it was too late. When our fellows came trooping back they were met with derisive laughter from the Left."

"The bill had already passed its first reading?"

"Precisely, marshal. But that's not all. Lipski had likewise proposed that, pending the issue of this infernal bill, the precincts of the monasteries shall be patrolled by the military."

"To prevent the monks from removing their treasures."

"That's the object. The Diet passed the resolution. Radzivil, as servant of the House, was obliged to submit, with the result that to-day there is not a monastery in Czernova that has not bayonets moving round it."

"Including the Convent of the Transfiguration?" asked Zabern.

"Including the Convent of the Transfiguration," answered Dorislas.

Zabern muttered some oaths under his breath. Presently, however, he broke into a grim smile.

"Lipski is a shrewder fellow than I gave him credit for. A clever stroke this on his part--to prevent us from entering that monastery by turning our own bayonets against us."

"Marshal," said Dorislas, looking very grave, "if Lipski's measure should pass--"

"If?" repeated Zabern disdainfully. "We will extinguish it on the second reading."

"Which has been fixed for this day month. Lipski boasts that there are surprises in store for ministers, that there will be numerous defections on our side."

"'Boasts'--that is a good word, Dorislas."

"If that bill should become law, commissioners appointed by the Diet will make a round of the monasteries for the purpose of appropriating their wealth; when they come to the Convent of the Transfiguration they will discover--"

"What we do not wish them to discover. But as the bill has not the remotest chance of passing, we may preserve a serene mind on the matter."

Dorislas said no more. Though he was of an optimistic nature, it was clear from his grave manner that he did not share in Zabern's hopeful views.

The quartette had now reached the _salle d'armes_. Over the portico hung the banner of the Lilieskis, which Paul reverently saluted, for was he not honoring Barbara by the act?

"That flag," said Zabern, "shall one day float over a wider area than Czernova."

Passing beneath the portico, they entered a fine and spacious hall, decorated in a style that harmonized with its use. Along the walls were suits of armor, and pictures of duels, tournaments, and battles. The oaken panels were hung with swords, muskets, and pistols, so arranged as to form devices, the favorite one being the arms of Poland.

"Whenever a man is mentioned to me for promotion," remarked Zabern, "I always bring him here for a bout. Ten minutes' fencing will give me a better idea of his character than a month's investigation."

Paul, in view of his recent appointment, wondered whether this remark was intended for application to himself.

Among the Czernovese nobles and military officers assembled in this hall was Count Radzivil, occupied in a fencing-bout. In Paul's eyes the sight of the gray-headed premier of seventy parrying and lunging with all the ardor of a boy of seventeen was significant of much. It seemed like a preparation for more serious work in the near future.

What surprised Paul still more was a bevy of youthful ladies fencing with each other at the far end of the hall; and of this number was Katina, engaged in spirited contest with her sister Juliska, a maiden so pretty that a man must have had the insensibility of a stone not to have wished for a kiss.

All ceased their play upon the entering of Zabern, who in a brief and graceful speech introduced Paul to the assembly as the princess's new secretary.

The Englishman who had conducted the famous defence of Tajapore could not fail to be a person of interest,--an interest enhanced by the fact that he had not shrunk from facing in duel the champion swordsman of Czernova.

Curious glances were interchanged, both among the ladies and likewise among the gentlemen, the meaning of which was laughingly explained by Zabern.

"The truth is, Captain Woodville, we are hoping to see a little English sword-play, in order that we may know who is to be congratulated by the princess's intervention yesterday,--yourself or the duke."

Paul modestly professed himself willing to give a display of his skill if any one would come forward to meet him.

"We have here," continued Zabern, "the six best fencers in Czernova after the duke. If you can defeat any of these we shall be able to form some notion as to how he would have fared at your hands."

The six champions in order of merit were adjudged as follows:--Firstly, Zabern, the Warden of the Charter; secondly, Miroslav, the governor of the Citadel; next, Dorislas, the Minister of Finance; then Count Radzivil, the Premier; Brunowski, the President of the Diet, followed; and, lastly, came Nikita the trooper.

"And," whispered Zabern to Paul, "if we were to choose a seventh it would not be a man but a woman, and she none other than Katina."

Paul bowed to the six men, and expressed his readiness to meet in fencing-bout any one of the number, or all in turn; and taking up a fencing-blade, a blunt sabre with its point topped by a button, he stood prepared to make good his words.

Across the middle of the hall upon the oaken flooring ran a silver line to which the opposing fencers were required to apply their right foot; they might step over this mark if they chose, but to recede from it by so little as an inch was counted for defeat.

As Paul declined to nominate an antagonist there was a slight argument on the part of the six as to the one who should first respond.

After some hesitation Count Radzivil stepped forward. "I fear I am too highly appraised," he modestly remarked, "when I am placed among the seven best fencers in Czernova."

All drew near to witness the contest. A double ring was immediately formed, the ladies being seated in a circle with the gentlemen standing in their rear, the placing of the chairs having naturally afforded opportunity for some pretty pieces of gallantry.

Paul was secretly conscious that though Zabern with Katina and Juliska might regard him favorably, he did not possess the sympathy of the rest of the persons present, who resented the unaccountable act of their princess in appointing as her secretary one who was not only a foreigner but a complete stranger to the principality. Were there no loyal Czernovese from whom her choice might have been made?

Paul knew, too, that among those who stood around were some who bore the proudest names in Polish history; he himself had neither title nor long genealogy, but if there be an order of nobility founded upon superiority in swordsmanship he determined to show that he was a member of that order, and that it would not be well for any man to put a slight upon him, because of the favor shown him by the princess.

On finding himself engaged in a contest with the premier Paul felt some mortification at being pitted against one so aged; but a few moments' play convinced him that Radzivil's arm had lost little of its youthful strength, or of its suppleness and dexterity. Paul, however, was decidedly the superior; and, within the space of five minutes he succeeded in disarming the count, whose blade flying through the air would have struck Katina, had she not adroitly warded it off with her own fencing-foil.

Zabern, who had watched Paul with eyes that had hardly winked once, seemed pleased with the result.

"An accident!" commented Dorislas, really believing the premier to have been the superior of the two.

He himself was the next to engage, and again Zabern watched every motion of Paul with unwinking eyes.

As a swordsman Dorislas excelled Radzivil; but, heated with a desire to vindicate the honor of Czernova, which he conceived had suffered at the hands of the premier, he became rash, was more disposed to attack than to guard, and the second contest terminated in less time than the first by the button of Paul's sabre coming full tilt against the breast of the Finance Minister.

"Fairly pinked!" said Zabern, evidently more pleased than before. "No accident this time."

The expression of surprise and bewilderment on the face of Dorislas at a result so little anticipated by himself was so comically pathetic that the spectators could not refrain from laughter.

"You were a dead man, Dorislas, had that been a real duel," they cried.

Paul was beginning to rise in their esteem.

Miroslav next ventured to try his hand, and once more Zabern became so attentive that one might almost have fancied his own life hung upon the issue.

Profiting by the lesson of Dorislas' rashness the governor of the Citadel commenced in a spirit of coolness and watchfulness,--a spirit that quickly evaporated when he found himself met at every point. He gave more trouble than his predecessors, but in the end Paul succeeded in twisting the weapon from his hand.

Zabern's pleasure increased.

"Good luck, not science," cried Miroslav, hotly, "I defy you to repeat that trick, Captain Woodville. I must have a second bout."

This demand was not allowed by Zabern, though Paul himself good-naturedly offered to grant it.

"Miroslav seems in savage mood to-day," whispered a fair lady to the cavalier who was bending over her.

"He suffered a prisoner to escape yesterday," replied her partner, "and as a consequence he had a _mauvais quart d'heure_ with the princess this morning. _Hinc illæ lacrimæ._"

"Captain Woodville ought now to give his arm a rest," cried Katina.

But Paul, perceiving the favorable impression that he was making, expressed his readiness to proceed without delay.

"I am now to be your opponent," said Zabern, taking up a fencing-blade in his left and only hand, "and I warn you, Captain Woodville, to be careful."

This caution was not without its need. Zabern was considered by those best qualified to judge the second swordsman in Czernova, and Paul quickly found that he had met an opponent nearly equal, if not equal, to himself. The marshal had an arm of steel; as a warrior who had faced the charge of bayonets on many a battle-field he was not likely to become nervous in a mock-contest. Cool and wary, after a few preliminary passes designed to test the other's skill, Zabern seemed content to remain for the most part on the defensive, watching his opportunity. Paul, conscious of the marshal's dexterity, was disposed to do the same; and hence this fourth bout appeared somewhat tame when contrasted with the spirited and dashing style of the preceding contests. It promised to prove indefinitely long, till on a sudden Zabern cried,--

"Hold, I have felt enough to know that I am your inferior, and as such, Captain Woodville, I lower my sword to you."

Which he did in graceful fashion, and, oddly enough, seeming to be extremely pleased over this acknowledgment of defeat.

"You would not have to make such confession, marshal," said Paul, "if you could recover the good hand you left behind in Russia."

He turned to glance at his two remaining opponents,--Brunowski and Nikita.

"If the marshal, the best of us all, admits himself beaten," said the President of the Diet, "of what use is it for me to try?"

The trooper murmured something to the like effect.

"Give me leave," said Paul, "to retire from this silver line and to move about freely, and I will meet my two remaining opponents together."

"That were to take an unfair advantage of a man," said Brunowski, resenting Paul's proposal as a slight upon his swordsmanship.

"Fair or unfair," growled Zabern, "step forward, both of you, and let us see whether Captain Woodville can do it. If you deem his word a boast, prove it to be such."

The ladies, too, curiously eager to witness fresh proofs of Paul's skill, added their voices to Zabern's, and thus adjured the two men came forward and faced Paul.

As plenty of space would be required for the coming bout, the ladies arose, the chairs were removed, and a wide circuit formed.

"A thousand roubles to a hundred that the Englishman succeeds," said Zabern to Dorislas, who seeing confidence written large on the marshal's face, declined the wager.

This fifth contest formed a brilliant finale.

Smarting under what they considered contemptuous disparagement, and eager to punish the vanity of the Englishman, Brunowski and Nikita pressed hard upon Paul. Each was no mean fencer, though much inferior to Zabern, and Paul was quickly compelled to retreat from the silver line upon which he had at first planted himself. The previous work seemed child's play when compared with this. The interchange of cut and thrust was so swift that the eyes of the spectators failed to follow the dazzling motions of the weapons. Despite their endeavors the two men failed to touch Paul, who at last saw his opportunity. With one powerful stroke he shivered Nikita's blade to fragments, and almost simultaneously he planted the button of his sabre upon Brunowski's breast.

The members of the assembly looked at one another in breathless wonder. Among a people who, like the Czernovese, retain much of the spirit of the feudal age, he is most in esteem who is best able to defend himself. In one sense, therefore, Paul was the foremost man in the principality. The resentment previously felt against him had now changed to unalloyed admiration.

"Such swordsmanship was never seen in Czernova," cried Juliska.

"Ten thousand devils!" muttered Zabern to himself. "Why did her Highness intervene in the duel yesterday?"

And then aloud he added,--

"Ladies and lords, we must all admit that his grace of Bora has much reason to be grateful to the princess."

No one ventured to controvert this statement.

Zabern's eyes twinkled with secret satisfaction.

"Marshal," whispered Juliska. "You have some plan in your head. You have been trying an experiment, I know you have. Come, tell me. Of what are you thinking?"

"That the princess's coronation-day will be a very exciting time," replied Zabern, oracularly.

And this was the only answer she could draw from the smiling marshal.

"Beaten! The whole six!" cried Katina in a voice of grief. "Shame upon Czernova! Captain Woodville will have but a poor opinion of us. Let us show, however, that we can shoot if we cannot fence."

With this Katina directed one of the attendants to hang a square white-painted board upon the wall at one end of the hall. Then taking her station at the other end with a supply of loaded revolvers, she proceeded to aim at the distant board, the shots succeeding each other with a rapidity that scarcely left an interval of silence.

The result of this firing was to cause a large oval to appear upon the surface of the board. The revolvers having been reloaded, Katina resumed her shooting. Now within the oval lines and curves began to appear, the whole assuming the outline of a human countenance, and that so well executed as to be clearly recognizable by those acquainted with the original.

"Orloff, the governor-general of Warsaw," cried several voices in unison.

"Czernova will never lack a good tirailleur so long as Katina Ludovska be living," said Zabern, adding in a lower tone, "why have you learned to shoot so well?"

"Can you ask?" she replied in a fierce whisper. "Against the day of my meeting with Orloff. Can any one beat that shooting?" she added aloud, with an invitatory glance at Paul, who smiled a negative.

A shout of applause went up in favor of Katina, who was considered to have redeemed the honor of Czernova.

"Ah! why were you not born a Pole?" said Juliska, addressing Paul.

"May I not become one?"

"Then shall you be a better Pole than any of us," said Katina, "for whereas we are such by accident of birth, you will be such by freedom of choice."

"Well said, Katina," observed Zabern. "And never was there one whom I more willingly admit to Czernovese citizenship. But Captain Woodville," he added, thoughtfully, "it will be well if you remain a British subject for a few more days. Why, the sequel will show."

And Paul, believing that Zabern did not speak without good reason, assented to the delay.

There was no more fencing in the _salle d'armes_ that day. The members shrank from displaying their inferior powers before such an expert as Paul. The assembly broke up into little groups.

"And how fares our ducal prisoner?" asked Radzivil, addressing the governor of the Citadel.

"In somewhat gloomy mood," answered Miroslav. "He spends his time chiefly in drinking old Rhenish, and in muttering to himself. By the way, he did a very peculiar act immediately after entering the Citadel last evening."

"Ha!" exclaimed Zabern, catching at this. "What was the act?"

"You know, marshal, it is our rule to search all prisoners on their entering,--a routine from which we did not except even his grace."

"And what did you discover?"

"Upon his person--nothing; that is, nothing of consequence. But a few minutes afterwards a soldier caught sight of the remains of a book burning upon a fire that was close by."

"Flung there by the duke?"

"Without doubt. The mystery is how he contrived to do it without our knowledge, inasmuch as there were several persons standing by."

"You recovered the book from the flames?"

"We attempted to remove it with the tongs, but the thing fell to pieces; the pages were consumed; nothing but the leather cover remained, and that all charred; upon it we could just discern the title."

"And that was--?"

"'The Plays of Æschylus.' Now why should the duke desire to destroy his copy of the Greek poet?"

"He had a motive, I warrant, and that a powerful one. I wish, Miroslav, you had secured the volume in time. Æschylus, Æschylus," repeated Zabern, thoughtfully. "My classical scholarship has long since evaporated, but if I remember rightly," he added, his countenance suddenly lighting up with a new idea, "Æschylus wrote a play called 'The Furies.'"

"True, marshal," replied Paul. "'The Eumenides' or 'The Furies.'"

Zabern, with excitement gleaming in his face, drew Paul aside.

"The clew to the cipher despatch!" he whispered. "The last words of our friend Trevisa were '_the furies_'!"