The Great Court Scandal Part 17

She rushed across to kiss him, but he put out his hand coldly, and held her at arm's length.

"There is time for that later, Claire," he said in a hard voice. "I understand that you have left Treysa?"

"Yes, I have. Who told you?"

"The Crown Prince, your husband, has informed me by telegraph of your scandalous action."

"Scandalous action!" she cried quickly, while in self-defence she began to implore the sympathy of the hard-hearted old Archduke, a man of iron will and a bigot as regarded religion. In a few quick sentences, as she stood before him in the centre of the room, she told him of all she had suffered; of her tragic life in her gilded prison at Treysa; of the insults heaped upon her by the King and Queen; of her husband's ill-treatment; and finally, of the ingenious plot to certify her as demented.

"And I have come to you, father, for protection for myself and my child," she added earnestly. "If I remain longer at Treysa my enemies will drive me really insane. I have tried to do my duty, G.o.d knows, but those who seek my downfall are, alas! too strong. I am a woman, alone and helpless. Surely you, my own father, will not refuse to a.s.sist your daughter, who is the victim of a foul and dastardly plot?" she cried in tears, advancing towards him. "I have come back to live here with my child in seclusion and in peace--to obtain the freedom for which I have longed ever since I entered that scandalous and unscrupulous Court of Treysa. I implore of you, father, for my dear, dead mother's sake, to have pity upon me, to at least stand by me as my one friend in all the world--you--my own father!"

He remained perfectly unmoved. His thin, bloodless face only relaxed into a dubious smile, and he responded in a hard voice,--

"You have another friend, Claire," Then he rose from his chair, his eyes suddenly aflame with anger as he asked, "Why do you come here with such lies as these upon your lips? To ask my a.s.sistance is utterly useless.

I have done with you. It is too late to-night for you to leave Wartenstein, but recollect that you go from here before ten o'clock to-morrow morning, and that during my lifetime you never enter again beneath this roof!"

"But, father--why?" she gasped, staring at him amazed.

"Why? Why, because the whole world is scandalised by your conduct!

Every one knows that the reason of your unhappiness with the Crown Prince is because you have a lover--that low-bred fellow Leitolf--a man of the people," he sneered. "Your conduct at Treysa was an open scandal, and in Vienna you actually visited him at his hotel. The Emperor called me, and told me so. He is highly indignant that you should bring such an outrageous scandal upon our house, and--"

"Father, I deny that Count Leitolf is my lover!" she cried, interrupting him. "Even you, my own father, defame me," she added bitterly.

"Defame you!" he sneered. "Bah! you cannot deceive me when you have actually eloped from Treysa with the fellow. See," he cried, taking a telegram from the table and holding it before her, "do you deny what is here reported--that you and he travelled together, and that he descended from the train just before reaching Vienna, in fear of recognition.

No," he went on, while she stood before him utterly stunned and rendered speechless by his words, which, alas! showed the terrible misconstruction placed upon their injudicious companionship upon the journey. "No, you cannot deny it! You will leave Wartenstein tomorrow, for you have grown tired of your husband; you have invented the story of the plot to declare you insane; and you have renounced your crown and position in order to elope with Leitolf! From to-night I no longer regard you as my daughter. Go!" and he pointed imperiously to the door.

"Go back to the people--the common herd of whom you are so very fond-- go back to your miserable lover if you wish. To me your future is quite immaterial, and understand perfectly that I forbid you ever to return beneath my roof. You have scandalised the whole of Europe, and you and your lover may now act just as you may think proper."

"But, father!" she protested, heartbroken, bursting into bitter tears.

"Leitolf is not my lover! I swear to you it is all untrue!"

"Go!" he shouted, his face red with anger. "I have said all I need say.

Go! Leave me. I will never see you again--never--_never_!"

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

THE MAN WITH THE RED CRAVAT.

A secret service agent--one of the spies of the crafty old Minister Minckeldeym--had followed Claire from Treysa. Her accidental meeting with Leitolf had, he declared, been prearranged.

It was now said that she, a Crown Princess of the Imperial blood, had eloped with her lover! The Court scandal was complete.

Alone in her room that night she sat for hours sobbing, while the great castle was silent. She was now both homeless and friendless. All the desperate appeals she had made to her father had been entirely unavailing. He was a hard man always. She had, he declared, brought a shameful scandal upon this Imperial house, and he would have nothing further to do with her. Time after time she stoutly denied the false and abominable charge, trying to explain the dastardly plot against her, and the combination of circ.u.mstances which led to her meeting with the Count at Protovin. But he would hear no explanation. Leitolf was her lover, he declared, and all her excuses were utterly useless. He refused her his protection, and cast her out as no child of his.

After long hours of tears and ceaseless sobbing, a strange thought crossed her mind. True, she was unjustly condemned as having eloped with Carl; yet, after all, was not even that preferable to the fate to which her husband had conspired to relegate her? The whole of Europe would say that she left the Court in company with a lover, and she bit her lip when she thought of the cruel libel. Yet, supposing that they had no ground for this gossip, was it not more than likely that her enemies would seek to follow her and confine her in an asylum?

The strange combination of circ.u.mstances had, however, given them good ground for declaring that she had eloped, and if such report got abroad, as it apparently had done, then her husband would be compelled to sue for a divorce.

She held her breath. Her fingers clenched themselves into her palms at thought of it--a divorce on account of the man who had always, from her girlhood, been her true, loyal, and platonic friend! And if it was sought to prove what was untrue? Should she defend herself, and establish her innocence? Or would she, by refusing to make defence, obtain the freedom from Court which she sought?

She had been utterly dumbfounded by her father's allegations that she had eloped. Until he had denounced her she had never for one moment seen the grave peril in which his presence at Protovin had placed her.

He had compromised her quite unintentionally. Her own pure nature and open mind had never suspected for one moment that those who wished her ill would declare that she had eloped.

Now, as she sat there in the dead silence, she saw plainly, when too late, how injudicious she had been--how, indeed, she had played into the hands of those who sought her downfall. It was a false step to go to Leitolf at the hotel in Vienna, and a worse action still to ask that he should be recalled from her Court and sent away as attache to Rome. The very fact that she showed interest in him had, of course, lent colour to the grave scandals that were being everywhere whispered. Now the report that she, an Imperial Archd.u.c.h.ess, had eloped with him would set the empires of Austria and Germany agog.

What the future was to be she did not attempt to contemplate. She was plunged in despair, utterly hopeless, broken, and without a friend except Steinbach. Was it destiny that she should be so utterly misjudged? Even her own father had sent her forth as an outcast!

Early next morning, taking little Ignatia and the bag containing her jewels, but leaving the maid behind, she drove from the castle, glancing back at it with heavy heart as the carriage descended into the green, fertile valley, gazing for the last time upon that old home she loved so well. It was her last sight of it. She would never again look upon it, she sadly told herself.

She, an Imperial Archd.u.c.h.ess of Austria, Crown Princess of a great German kingdom, a Dame of the Croix Etoilee, a woman who might any day become a reigning queen, had renounced her crown and her position, and was now an outcast! Hers was a curious position--stranger, perhaps, than that in which any woman had before found herself. Many a royalty is to-day unhappy in her domestic life, suffering in silence, yet making a brave show towards the world. She had tried to do the same. She had suffered without complaint for more than three long, dark years--until her husband had not only struck her and disfigured her, but had contemplated ridding himself of her by the foulest and most cowardly means his devilish ingenuity could devise.

As she drove through those clean, prosperous villages which were on her own private property, the people came forth, cheering with enthusiasm and rushing to the carriage to kiss her hand. But she only smiled upon them sadly--not, they said, shaking their heads after she had pa.s.sed, not the same smile as in the old days, before she married the German Prince and went to far-off Treysa.

The stationmaster at Rattenberg came forward to make his obeisance, and as certain military manoeuvres were in progress and some troops were drawn up before the station, both officers and men drew up and saluted.

An old colonel whom she had known well before her marriage came forward, and bowing, offered to see her to her compartment, expressing delight at having met her again.

"Your Imperial Highness will never be forgotten here," declared the gallant, red-faced old fellow, who wore fierce white moustaches. "The poor are always wondering whether you are ever coming back. And at last your Highness is here! And going--where?"

She hesitated. Truth to tell, she had never thought of her destination.

"I go now to Lucerne, incognito," she replied, for want of something else to say; and they both walked on to the platform, he carrying Henriette's cheap little leather bag containing her jewels.

"So this," he said, "is our little Princess Ignatia, about whom we have heard so much." And laughingly he touched the shy child's soft cheek caressingly.

"And who are you?" inquired the child wonderingly, examining his bright uniform from head to foot.

The Princess joined in the Colonel's laughter. Usually the child was shy, but, strangely enough, always talkative with any one who wore a uniform, even though he might be a private soldier on sentry duty at the palace.

The Colonel was not alone in remarking within himself the plainness and cheapness of her Imperial Highness's costume. It had been remarked everywhere, but was supposed that she wore that very ordinary costume in order to pa.s.s incognito.

The train took her to Innsbruck, and after luncheon at the buffet she continued her journey to Lucerne, arriving there late in the evening, and taking the hotel omnibus of the Schweizerhof. There she gave her name as the Baroness Deitel, and declared that her luggage had been mis-sent--a fact which, of course, aroused some suspicion within the mind of the shrewd clerk in the bureau. Visitors without luggage are never appreciated by hotel-keepers.

Next day, however, she purchased a trunk and a number of necessaries, _lingerie_ for herself and for the little Princess, all of which was sent to the hotel--a fact that quickly re-established confidence.

A good many people were staying in the place as usual, and very quickly, on account of her uncommon beauty and natural grace, people began to inquire who she was. But the reply was that she was Baroness Deitel of Frankfort--that was all. From her funereal black they took her for a young widow, and many of the idle young men in the hotel endeavoured to make her acquaintance. But she spoke to no one. She occupied herself with her child, and if alone in the hall she always read a book or newspaper.

The fact was that she was watching the newspapers eagerly, wondering if they would give currency to the false report of her elopement. But as day after day went by and nothing appeared, she grew more a.s.sured, hoping that at least the Court at Treysa had suppressed from the press the foul lie that had spread from mouth to mouth.

One paragraph she read, however, in a Vienna paper was very significant, for it stated that the Crown Prince Ferdinand of Marburg had arrived in Vienna at the invitation of the Emperor, who had driven to the station to meet him, and who had embraced him with marked cordiality.

She read between the lines. The Emperor had called him to Vienna in order to hear his side of the story--in order to condemn her without giving her a chance to explain the truth. The Emperor would no doubt decide whether the fact of her leaving the Court should be announced to the public or not.

Her surmise was not far wrong, for while sitting in the big hall of the hotel after luncheon four days later, she saw in the _Daily Mail_ the following telegram, headed, "A German Court Scandal: Startling Revelations."

Holding her breath, and knowing that, two young Englishmen, seated together and smoking, were watching her, she read as follows:--

"Reuter's correspondent at Treysa telegraphs it has just transpired that a very grave and astounding scandal has occurred at Court. According to the rumour--which he gives under all reserve--late one night a week ago the Crown Princess Ferdinand escaped from the palace, and taking with her her child, the little Princess Ignatia, eloped to Austria with Count Charles-Leitolf, an official of the Court. A great sensation has been caused in Court circles in both Germany and Austria. The Crown Princess before her marriage was, it will be remembered, the Archd.u.c.h.ess Claire, only daughter of the Archduke Charles of Austria, and notable at the Court of Vienna on account of her extreme beauty. It appears that for some time past at the Court of Treysa there have been rumours regarding the intimate friendship between the Crown Princess and the Count, who was for some time attache at the Austrian Emba.s.sy in London. Matters culminated a short time ago when it became known that the Count had followed the Princess to Vienna, where she had gone to visit her father.

She returned to Treysa for a few days, still followed by Leitolf, and then left again under his escort, and has not since been seen.