Chapter XII: The Polish Conspiracy

On the evening of the day that had witnessed the envoy's defeat a masked ball was held, and the halls and gardens of the Vistula Palace were alive with gay revellers.

The centre of attraction was the spacious ball-room, where, beneath golden chandeliers that shed a radiance brighter than that of the sun, moved a crowd of Czernova's noblest and fairest.

The picturesque character of the dresses, the glow of color, the perfume of flowers, the gayety of the music, and the rippling laughter of fair masqueraders, formed a scene bewildering and intoxicating to the senses.

Amid this throng moved Paul Woodville in eager quest of the masked Barbara, who had refrained from telling him what costume she would assume. If he were a true lover he ought to be able to penetrate her disguise, she had playfully observed, and if he failed to discover her, why then the want of discernment on his part should bring its own punishment.

As he moved here and there witching glances were cast at him by masked ladies, for as regards figure and dress, few were more qualified than Paul to serve as a cavalier.

He had adopted the old Polish costume. With a four-cornered cap adorned by a waving heron plume, silken "contuschi" that fell in graceful folds around well-shaped limbs clad in tight silk hose, short boots decorated with gold lace, and a curved, diamond-hilted sabre swinging lightly by his side, Paul walked among the men present, the noblest figure of them all; and many whispering inquiries were interchanged as to his identity.

At length Paul caught sight of a graceful figure, robed in the silver-gray habit of a nun, standing solitary by the entrance of a corridor leading from the ball-room.

He watched and saw her with a pretty shake of her head repel in silence the addresses of three cavaliers in succession.

As Paul drew near, the lady suddenly turned her head and flashed a glance at him through the eyelet-holes of her black silk vizard. That glance was sufficient, and in another moment he was by her side.

"Fair lady," he whispered, "why this sad costume?"

"Is it not the garb of innocence?" returned the lady in a low and obviously disguised voice.

"True, but it is also the negation of love."

"And why should I not frown upon love?"

"Because you would be gainsaying the vows you made to me in the old Greek temple."

"Ah, Paul! you have discovered me," she whispered, her lips smiling beneath the lace of her mask. "Now I, in turn, will ask, 'Why this old Polish costume?'"

"I adopted what I thought would most please you."

"And it does please me," she replied with a tender light in her eyes. "And it is suitable to the character of the revelation you shall hear to-night. Come, we will not dance just yet. Take me to the gardens, to the Long Terrace."

Conscious of something odd in her manner, Paul, drawing her arm within his own, conducted Barbara from the brilliant ball-room to the quieter scene without, and on reaching a retired corner of the marble terrace, he seated her beside himself.

It was a lovely midsummer night. The air was pure and temperate, and alive with the plash and sparkle of numerous fountains. The silver orb of the moon, set in a dark-blue sky, and the colored lamps gleaming everywhere among the foliage combined to produce a poetical glamor that might have gladdened the eyes even of Titania herself, the Queen of Fairyland.

"Who could have thought," said Paul, after complimenting Barbara upon the admirable manner in which she had out-manoeuvred the Russian envoy, "who could have thought when we first met in that Dalmatian forest that a great empire would one day demand my extradition, and that you would bravely refuse to grant it!"

"And I will not surrender you, Paul. No, not if it should cost me my throne."

How sweet it was to hear such words from this fair princess! She who was a match for the Czar's envoy to set such store by him! This maiden pressing tenderly to his side scarcely seemed to be the same person who that morning had filled a throne with such dignity. Nor was she. Love had entirely transfigured her.

"Paul," she said quietly, "I have told the duke that I cannot marry him."

"How did he take the tidings?"

"He said little, but his face expressed much--"

"Much--?"

"Hatred, then, if you will have the word. Excluded from the cabinet, and from the command of the army, he is not likely to sit down quietly under such dishonoring. And," she added with a sigh, "he is a political force to be reckoned with."

"Sweet princess, give me leave to resume the duel with him, and you shall soon be rid of one whom you seem to fear."

"No, Paul, no," she said, laying her hand affectionately upon his; "promise me that you will not fight with him again."

"Does the princess command?"

"No; your Barbara entreats," she said with a soft pressure of her arm. Who could resist such an appeal as this?

"I do not doubt your ability to overcome the duke, for Zabern has told me of your feat in the _salle d'armes_; but you forget that duelling is illegal in Czernova. Would you have me send you to the Citadel? Moreover, if you should slay the duke it would become the aim of every Muscovite fanatic to slay you. As it is, I fear you will carry your life in your hands, when men come to learn that you are the cause of the duke's rejection. Czernova is but semi-civilized, and assassination is the favorite political weapon here. I would, Paul, that you would do even as Zabern."

"And what is Zabern's habit?"

"He wears chain-mail beneath his clothing."

"An uncomfortable arrangement, I should say. For my own part I will rely on my right arm and on my good sword. Fear not for me. But, dearest Barbara, will you not unmask, and let me see your face, if only for a moment?"

She shook her head tantalizingly.

"I would if I dared, but who knows what eyes may be watching me at this moment? There are Russian spies at this masquerade, so Zabern assures me. I must not be recognized in this guise. Ah! who comes here?" Paul felt her arm trembling upon his, as there moved slowly along the moonlit terrace a tall and stately figure robed in a monastic habit. His cassock was identical in its shade of gray with the nun's gown worn by Barbara, and like hers, it was marked on each shoulder with a red cross.

Having reached the place where Barbara sat, the monk paused, surveyed her attentively for a moment, and then spoke,--

"May a brother claim a few words from a sister of the same order?"

"How know you that I am of the same order?"

"The 'Transfigured' cannot be hidden from each other."

"Paul," she whispered, "I must speak with this man alone for a short time. Remain here."

The princess arose, and in company with the newcomer paced slowly to and fro along the terrace, repeatedly passing Paul.

This proceeding on the part of Barbara was somewhat strange, but not altogether incomprehensible. Paul had learned that the word "Transfigured" was used by the patriots of Czernova in the sense of one who, from a state of despair as regards Poland, had passed to a state of hope. Its English equivalent was "conspirator." The term naturally associated itself with the Convent of the Transfiguration, and hence Paul concluded that this masked individual was a monk sent from that very mysterious monastery with some important message.

The conversation, of which he did not overhear one word, occupied about fifteen minutes, and ended by the monk passing some papers to the princess, who immediately concealed them upon her person, an action performed so quickly that Paul almost doubted whether it had really taken place.

This transference of documents accomplished, the monk glided quietly away, and the princess returned to the side of Paul.

Ere he had time to question Barbara on the nature of the interview, Paul saw with surprise a second masked friar making his way along the terrace. He was robed so precisely like the other that Paul at first thought it was the same individual; but a nearer view showed that he was of shorter and more massive build. There could be no doubt that he, too, was bent on having an interview with the princess.

Was this sort of thing to last all night?

Barbara guessed his thoughts, and her teeth gleamed in a pretty smile beneath the silken fringe of her vizard.

"Patience, Paul," she whispered. "This is the second and last. There in the distance comes Marshal Zabern, and as I must have no secrets from you he shall act as my interpreter."

On the approach of the monk the same interchange of words took place, evidently a pre-arranged signal, and, as before, Barbara arose and joined in conversation with the new-comer.

A moment afterwards another figure came upon the scene whom, in spite of the mask and black domino, Paul recognized as Zabern.

The marshal sat down by Paul's side and fixed his eyes upon the princess, who, a little distance away, was stooping over the balustrade of the terrace, apparently engaged in the act of writing.

"What think you that the princess is now doing?" asked Zabern.

"One might fancy her to be setting down the name of a cavalier upon her dance-programme, but I suppose such is not the case?"

"Captain Woodville," returned the marshal impressively, "you are witnessing an event destined to change the map of Europe in the near future. The princess is signing a secret treaty with Louis Kossuth, the uncrowned King of Hungary."

Paul's surprise and wonderment can be better imagined than described.

"The princess has signified to me her wish that you should be admitted to the circle of 'The Transfigured;' and convinced as I am of your loyalty to her, I offer no opposition, knowing that if you should not altogether approve of our policy, you will at least keep our secret. It is our custom to exact an oath from initiates--"

"I will vow upon the Four Evangelists--"

"Upon your sword if you must swear at all, as our Polish chevaliers of old when at church they recited the 'Credo.' Our initiatory oath can be dispensed with in your case. Your promise is sufficient. The word of a soldier should be sacred. You pledge yourself to secrecy?"

And when Paul had assented, the marshal continued,--

"Know, then, that Princess Natalie is at the head of a secret enterprise,--'conspiracy' would be the Czar's word,--an enterprise for the liberation of Poland from the Russian yoke. The two monks are agents in this affair. The first is a Pole bringing documents from the headquarters of the patriots at Warsaw. The second is a Hungarian from Buda charged with the secret treaty from Kossuth. The masquerade of to-night was held with a special view to their meeting the princess, no other way being so well suited to divert suspicion; for with spies all around us it behoves us to act with caution. The traitor Bora, at this moment in the ball-room, little knows what is happening only a stone's-throw off."

"But what interest hath Hungary in this affair?"

"Hungary is herself preparing to revolt from the despotic rule of the House of Hapsburg. Next spring she will rise under Louis Kossuth, whose triumph is certain. Hungary will again take her place among the free nations of Europe. We in Czernova sympathize with the Magyars, but as matters are at present we dare not openly aid them with our army. Austria would cry to the Czar, and the Czar, availing himself of the opportunity, would lose no time in annexing Czernova. We are thus necessitated to give our aid in secret. Money is the sinews of war; we therefore lend the Hungarians money on the understanding that they in turn shall aid us when the day of Poland comes."

"And how much are you advancing?"

"One hundred and eighty million roubles; not paper money, mark you, but sterling gold in coinage and plate."

The vastness of the sum--thirty millions in English money--filled Paul with amazement.

"How has Czernova contrived to raise such a large amount?"

"But small part of it comes from Czernova. It represents the free-will offerings of Polish patriots throughout the world for a long course of years. Noble ladies have given their jewellery, the peasant his kopek, ay, often his last kopek, to the good cause."

"And where is this treasure stored?"

"In the Convent of the Transfiguration. Yes," continued Zabern, "we aid Hungary, and Hungary will aid us when the great day of vengeance shall come."

"And when will that be?"

"'Russia's danger is Poland's opportunity,'--that is the Czernovese motto. We are waiting till Russia shall be engaged in war with England."

"Is such war likely to occur?"

"It is a certain event of the near future. In the School of Naval Engineers at Sebastopol," said Zabern, beginning a statement, whose relevancy Paul failed at first to perceive, "is a complete representation of all the forts that line the Bosphorus with their towers and bastions, together with the most minute details respecting the creeks and currents of that famous strait; so that the Russian War Minister sitting at Sebastopol with these models before him could direct the whole plan of an attack upon Constantinople."

"Well?"

"Imperative orders have just been issued from St. Petersburg commanding the naval captains to study these models; lectures upon them are given daily to the naval cadets. Bearing in mind Alexander's saying to Napoleon, '_Il faut avoir les clefs de notre maison dans la poche_,' what inference do you draw?"

"That Russia is preparing to seize the Sultan's dominions?"

"Precisely. Will England permit this?"

"Not while 'Old Pam' is living."

"'Old Pam'?" said Zabern, puzzled till Paul explained. "Ah! your grand Lord Palmerston, the friend of oppressed nationalities! Well, then, we shall soon have an Anglo-Russian war. Your gallant armies and fleets will be seen ere long off the shores of the Baltic and Euxine. My faith in the bravery of your countrymen enables me to prophesy that they will be victorious. And then will come the day of our triumph!"

The patriotic Zabern, whose days from boyhood had been spent in struggling for the freedom of his fatherland, was now fully convinced that success was at hand.

"Yes," he continued, his eye kindling with enthusiasm; "yes, in the hour of Russia's humiliation, when her treasury is exhausted and her armies demoralized by defeat, there will be an upheaval of Poland; no feeble flash-in-the-pan this time, but a grand national uprising, north, south, east, and west. Little Czernova will be to the fore with her army of twenty thousand under Zabern; the Magyars of Hungary will pour across the border with Kossuth at their head; there will be a combination such as will compel Russia to part with the kingdom she wickedly stole fifty years ago. When I was born Poland was free; I shall die seeing her free again. And the princess--"

"Yes, and the princess?" inquired Paul, as Zabern paused in his utterance.

"Will be a princess no longer. The patriots have agreed that Natalie Lilieska, as the sole surviving descendant of the ancient Jagellons, shall be the queen of resuscitated Poland. Queen? ay, and why not empress? Is she not worthy of an imperial crown?"

Paul's head fairly swam at these words. The sweet, fair, dark-haired maiden who loved him, and who clung to him with such touching fidelity, a future queen--empress! He knew that Barbara would never waver in her attachment to him; to what dazzling heights, then, was he destined to rise?

He glanced at the two gray moonlit figures in the distance--the monk and the nun--conspiring for the creation of a kingdom. How romantically impossible seemed this scheme looked at beforehand! and yet how many of the noblest events in history have been previously declared impossible by political prophets!

"As touching your secret treasure," remarked Paul, "is there not a bill before the Diet,--a bill to seize all monastic wealth and to convert it to state purposes?"

"At this very moment the Diet is putting its veto upon the measure. To-night was fixed for the second reading. Our Polish adherents are assembled in full force to reject it. After to-night we shall hear no more of Lipski's bill. It would be an ill day for us if it should pass. Ostensibly directed against Czernovese monasteries in general, it is really aimed at the Convent of the Transfiguration. The Czerno-Muscovites have a suspicion that the monks of that establishment do other things besides offering perpetual prayers for Poland, and the suspicion is well founded. If public commissioners enter that monastery they will discover not only our store of gold, but likewise the documents relating to our patriotic conspiracy; and more than these, plans and models of Russian fortresses, supplied by our adherents in the Czar's army, who are not a few. The convent contains arms for one hundred thousand men, gunpowder sufficient to blow up all Czernova, and in addition new military engines. Some of the inmates of that convent devote their time to chemistry and mechanics; and in the coming struggle betwixt Poland and Russia we shall have the first use of inventions destined to revolutionize the old-fashioned methods of warfare. In the light of these inventions the numbers of our enemy will count for little. Now you understand why the Convent of the Transfiguration must be kept from the eyes of prying intruders."

"I likewise grasp the meaning of that passage in Orloff's cipher despatch,--'The success of Lipski's bill is Russia's justification.'"

"I admit the truth of the statement. The secrets of that convent, if brought to the light of day, would prove that the resources of Czernova are being utilized for the emancipation of Poland. And have we not the right to attempt the recovery of the kingdom stolen from our forefathers? Nevertheless, in the opinion of European statesmen fettered by conventional precedents, our aim would amply justify the Czar in annexing the principality. Therefore Lipski's bill must not pass."

At this juncture Barbara, having finished her interview, returned to the side of Paul; Zabern, desirous of a word with the Hungarian envoy, went forward to intercept his departure.

"So Zabern has told you of our enterprise? What think you, Paul?"

"May the crown of Poland indeed be yours, Barbara. And yet--and yet--the higher you climb the greater the gulf between us."

"You shall rise with me, Paul," she said, placing her hand tenderly within his. "You, who gained fame in India, shall gain a greater fame in the coming war, and then there will be no obstacle to our union. 'Let the princess marry merit and not title,' men will say."

This gave a new aspect to their love-affair,--an aspect which appealed to Paul's dashing and adventurous spirit; like the knights of a bygone age he would fight both for the winning of fame and also for the hand of a lovely princess. If the patriotic conspiracy should end in failure, alas! for Barbara's hopes, but so much the better for his prospect of a final union with her. His good fortune, he trusted, would enable him to emerge safely from the political ruins of Czernova, and with Barbara he would retire to his ancestral hall in Kent, where they would spend the rest of their days in quiet happiness, and recall with melancholy pleasure the time when they had plotted and fought for the crown of Poland.

Zabern, having parted from the Hungarian messenger, sat down on the other side of the princess, and for a long time the trio talked of the conspiracy. Among other matters, Paul learned that Katina was cognizant of the conspiracy, and that all the cabinet likewise were participants, with the exception of the two permanent members--Cardinal Ravenna and Mosco the Greek Archpastor.

"I can understand your Highness's motive in keeping our enterprise concealed from a Muscovite prelate," remarked Zabern; "but with regard to Ravenna is not the case different? He would be extremely useful to us in drawing the Catholic clergy of Poland into the plot."

"Marshal," said Barbara firmly, "I know the cardinal, and I know that he is not to be trusted."

Their attention was diverted at this point by the approach of two masked figures, each habited, like Zabern, in a black domino.

"Radzivil and Dorislas returning from the Diet," observed the marshal. The premier and his colleague recognized the princess and Zabern by their costumes, but glanced inquiringly at Paul, uncertain as to his identity.

"Captain Woodville, my lords," replied Barbara, responsive to their thoughts.

Paul drew aside, permitting Radzivil to take a place beside Barbara, a courtesy which the premier gracefully acknowledged.

Dorislas with folded arms leaned in silence against the marble balustrade of the terrace. As far as can be judged of men who are masked and cloaked, both the premier and the finance minister were in a very gloomy mood. Paul intuitively felt that they were the bearers of bad tidings.

"Has your Highness signed the treaty with Kossuth?" began Radzivil.

"An hour ago. The Hungarian envoy has departed with it."

"I fear, princess, that the treaty will have to be rescinded. We are doomed to lose our treasure."

"Say not so, count. The Catholic Poles form the majority in the Diet; why should they desert both their princess and their religion?"

"This evening, as your Highness knows," explained the premier, "there took place the second reading of the Secular Appropriation Bill. During the course of the debate Lipski presented to the House certain statistics appraising the wealth contained in the various monasteries of Czernova. These statistics were, of course, purely imaginary--"

"For," intervened Dorislas, "if he knew the whole truth concerning the Convent of the Transfiguration he would have put the amount at four times his actual estimate."

"Just so," responded Radzivil, a melancholy smile appearing beneath his mask. "Well, he attempted to prove by means of these statistics that the monastic wealth would enable Czernova to be tax-free for the next three years. The House eagerly caught at the bait. All the Muscovite faction voted with Lipski as a matter of course; and many of our side, charmed with the idea of a three years' remission of taxation, likewise cast their suffrages in favor of the bill. The members of our party do not know the reason why the ministry are so anxious to throw the ægis of their protection over the convents, and, of course, we dare not take them into our confidence. The result is, and with extreme regret I announce it to your Highness, that the second reading of the Appropriation Bill has been carried by a majority of eleven."

"Ha!" muttered Zabern to himself. "Orloff's gold is doing its work."

"Was there a full house?" asked Barbara.

"Your Highness, every member of the Opposition was present; and on our side there were but three absentees,--the marshal, the cardinal, and the duke."

"The duke?" said Barbara. "I fear that his vote will be given against us now, which will raise the majority to twelve. The marshal's vote and the cardinal's would reduce it to ten. When does the third reading take place?"

"It has been fixed for this day week."

"Ten votes against us," murmured the princess. "The transference of six votes from the opposite side would place us in a majority of two. My lords, we must win over those six votes, if no more."

"I fail to see how it's to be done," commented Radzivil gloomily.

Silence fell upon the little group. Truly, with the Charter destroyed, and with Lipski's bill on the eve of triumphing, Barbara's throne was in desperate jeopardy.

"Cannot your Highness refuse to sign the bill?" asked Paul.

"By the terms of the Charter," replied Barbara, "the ruler of Czernova is compelled to sign every bill passed by the Diet. In the event of refusal the Diet has the right of calling upon Russia, Austria, and Prussia, to enforce the signature."

"And Lipski and his Muscovite crew would not be slow in appealing to them," remarked Dorislas. "And we know what the intervention of the three Powers would mean."

"If I should dissolve the Diet, and order a fresh election--?" began Barbara.

"We should have the same majority against us," replied Radzivil.

"Insert a clause in the bill," suggested Paul, "to the effect that the Convent of the Transfiguration shall be exempted from the operation of the bill."

"Useless," answered the premier, "since that convent is the one particularly aimed at."

"A clause giving her Highness sole power to appoint the Commissioners."

Dorislas grinned.

"I moved that amendment myself, but it was rejected."

"Play Cromwell's game: on the day of the voting station troopers at the doors of the Diet-house to exclude obnoxious members; or the night before carry some off and detain them till the voting is over."

"Unconstitutional," said Barbara. "To secure the rejection of the bill by such methods would be to court the intervention of the three Powers."

"Secretly withdraw the documents and the treasure from the convent."

"With soldiers patrolling the precincts?" said Dorislas. "Lipski, subtle knave that he is, has artfully turned our own bayonets against us. Every one passing out of the convent is carefully searched."

"Bribe the soldiers."

"Lipski is alive to that manoeuvre. Day and night his creatures are watching that monastery."

"Let the monks, then, bury the arms and the treasure within their own walls."

"Lipski, who is certain to be appointed one of the Commissioners, will dig up every foot of ground and pull down every brick in his endeavors to discover something of disadvantage to the ministry," returned Dorislas.

Paul made no more suggestions; how, indeed, could he, when it passed the wit of the premier himself to devise a plan adequate for defeating the manoeuvres of Lipski?

"If the bill should pass," continued Dorislas, "I see but one way out of our difficulty. The monks must contrive to steal out some dark night, leaving a slow match burning in the powder-magazine."

"And we must lose the fruit of years?" said the princess, mournfully.

"Why, your Highness, consider what would happen otherwise. Here, close to the Russian frontier, and commanding the highroad to Warsaw, is an edifice, presumably a monastery, but in reality a fortress and an arsenal. True, Abbot Faustus can destroy the treasonable documents; yet, nevertheless, here will be found, because impossible to be annihilated or concealed, a vast store of gold, rifles for one hundred thousand men, and other war _matériel_. Vain would it be for the Czernovese ministry to put an innocent interpretation upon their attempts to keep the interior workings of this convent from public view. The Czar would be wanting in common sense if he should not see in all this a menace to his own dominions. His ministers, in fact, already have their suspicions, and hence they are more eager than Lipski himself for the passing of the Appropriation Bill."

"I note that the marshal has not yet spoken," smiled Barbara; "sure proof that he is developing some plan. Now, Zabern, your enemies call you 'the Asp of Czernova'; you must maintain your character for serpentine wisdom by extricating us from our dilemma."

"Fear not, your Highness. Lipski shall not triumph. On the third reading I, without resorting to bribery, threats, or violence, will persuade the Diet to reject his bill."

"How?" asked Radzivil, who, desirous as he was of seeing the measure defeated, yet nevertheless felt aggrieved that Zabern should propose to do what he himself, the premier, despaired of doing; "how? what is your plan?"

"To reveal it beforehand would ensure its defeat. My plan is one which requires absolute concealment."

"Even from the princess?" said Barbara.

"From the princess most of all," replied Zabern with a peculiar smile.

This statement was naturally productive of great surprise on the part of Barbara.

"We will accept your saying, marshal, though a hard one, and put a check upon our curiosity. You have never yet failed to keep word with me--"

"And shall not fail now, your Highness."

"Then," said Barbara, rising, as there came floating on the air from the ball-room the slow, dreamy music of a Hungarian waltz, "then if Zabern be on the watch, the princess may dance. Captain Woodville, your arm. You were promised a dance. Let me redeem my word. But first, marshal, guard these papers for me. It would be dangerous to let them fall upon the ball-room floor."

And Barbara, having handed to Zabern the documents which she had received from the Polish envoy, moved off towards the ball-room leaning upon the arm of Paul.

This bestowal of favor upon her secretary caused Radzivil and Dorislas to stare suspiciously at each other; but ere they could interchange thought on the matter, their attention was diverted by the sound of many voices coming from the direction contrary to that taken by the princess.

Looking up, the three ministers beheld moving along the terrace towards them a company of masqueraders, ladies and gentlemen, fancifully costumed. All were laughing and talking gayly, being evidently in the best of spirits.

"Whom have we here?" muttered Radzivil, eying the throng.

"He who would supplant the princess in the sovereignty," replied Zabern, recognizing the central figure, who was garbed as Peter the Great. "A barbarian aping a barbarian."

"The Duke of Bora?"

"The same, surrounded by his favorites and satellites, all jubilant with the thought that Lipski's bill will triumph, and that the fall of the princess is at hand. Let them laugh. Their gayety will turn to mortification after next week's vote shall have been taken. Let us uncover and tempt the traitor to address us. I am curious to learn what he will say."

As the duke and his friends drew near the trio unmasked. Bora, catching sight of them, stopped in his walk, and then came slowly forward attended by his followers, all intent on enjoying the presumable mortification of the ministers.

"A sad blow this, dear marshal, to the feelings of the princess," began the duke blandly, and lighting a cigar as he spoke. "It's quite certain that the Appropriation Bill will pass."

"Pass? Oh! dear no. Nothing of the sort," replied Zabern in his most cheerful manner.

"We have just been informed that the second reading has been carried by a majority of 'eleven.'"

"The third reading has yet to come."

"Now, Saint Nicholas give you wisdom!" cried Bora, amid the scarcely repressed laughter of his creatures. "Are you clinging to the hope that the men who voted one thing to-night will vote the contrary seven days hence?"

"I _know_ that they will," returned Zabern, coolly.

"There is certain to be a full House next week--one hundred and twenty members, should Ravenna have returned from Rome in time to take part in the division. Out of that number I venture to prophesy that seventy will be found to reject the bill."

"Giving the ministry a majority of twenty?"

"Giving the ministry a majority of twenty," repeated Zabern.

Bora could only attribute this utterance to mere bravado.

"Marshal, I should like to know with what amount you will back your opinion," he sneered.

"With whatever sum your grace is prepared to back yours."

"I will stake five thousand roubles--" began the duke.

"Oh! your grace, make it more than that," said Zabern affably.

"I will double the amount. I will wager ten thousand roubles that the votes given against the bill will fall short of seventy."

"Let me have that wager in your handwriting, dear duke," said Zabern blandly. "The like sum from me if ministers have not seventy votes on their side, or a clear majority of twenty."

When the written pledges had been interchanged Radzivil spoke, addressing the duke in somewhat indignant tones.

"And do you bet, then, on the success of a measure known to be hateful to the princess?"

Bora shrugged his shoulders.

"This is a bill on which the best of friends may differ, as is shown by the schism among your own Polish adherents. Remember," he added, "there must be no underhand work to secure the passing of this bill, or my wager becomes null and void. There must be no bribery on the part of the ministry."

"We leave bribery to Lipski and his principal, Orloff; or shall I put the word in the plural, your grace, and say principals," said Zabern with a meaning smile.

Bora gave a slight start, which did not escape the other's notice.

"You see, dear duke," drawled Zabern airily, "we know all that is going on behind the scenes. Governor Orloff in his palace at Warsaw pulls the strings, and the puppets dance in the Diet of Slavowitz. Next week I shall manipulate the strings, and you shall see the figures dancing to my tune."

The duke began to grow somewhat uneasy under the knowledge displayed by Zabern. In his previous contests with the wily Pole he had always come off second-best. Was Zabern again to triumph over him?

"You talk boldly, marshal," he said with a supercilious smile, "but I think I shall win my roubles."

So saying he passed on with his company.

"Humph!" muttered Radzivil, gloomily, "it's quite clear that, vexed with the princess for excluding him from the cabinet, he will now throw in his lot with the Opposition."

"Therein appearing in his true colors," replied Zabern. "There he walks, a would-be sovereign, attended by a would-be court. _Carpe diem, Bora, carpe diem!_ Enjoy your brief span of existence! The 15th of September next will see your end."

"The 15th of September?" repeated Dorislas. "That is the day of the princess's coronation."

"True; and if I rightly forecast the future, Dorislas, the duke will not outlive that day."