The Mercenary Part 49

"But I have had messages from her!"

"From her women, who are doubtless in league to deceive you!"

Ferdinand looked much that he did not utter.

He looked at the clock that stood in one corner of the apartment.

"Ten o'clock, and not returned. You must lend me a troop of your hussars to scour the roads!"

"With pleasure! But I beg that you will use discretion. The name of a princess that will one day be Electress of Bavaria may not be lightly bandied. May I suggest Captain von Gratz?"

"As you will, cousin!"

They had just signed to the Jesuit when the door opened, and the servants announced--

"Her Imperial Highness, the Archd.u.c.h.ess Stephanie!"

The faces of the three men turned towards the door in amazement and expectation.

It was the Archd.u.c.h.ess. She came clad in amber silk, heavy with the richest embroidered work of raised flowers, a high stiff collar, her round neck and swelling bosom bare, save for the velvet of darker hue than the stuff which framed them, and a necklace of rare pearls. Her train was upheld by two of the fairest dames of her company, and these and two others and two pages were all attired as richly, yet served as a foil nevertheless to her supreme dark beauty. In her eyes was the lurking light of laughter, though her lip had more than usual of its proud upward curl. Her eyes danced as with her quick gaze they lit upon the three astounded faces of her suitor, her brother, and the officer they called von Gratz.

Nicholas Kraft and his wife hastened forward and bent the knee before her. To them all graciousness she said--

"It is to seem an unwilling guest to arrive at your hospitable house so late, but you must please excuse me for the chapter of accidents that has done nothing but beset me this day."

The Elector strode forward, his eyes roving over her as if they would devour her, for he ever found fresh enchantment and delight in her beauty, fain though he was not to betray himself too much.

The Archduke followed, but not too eagerly. Captain von Gratz alone remained where he was, prey to a hundred vexations, but showing nothing in his calm face.

"So eager yet, cousin Maximilian!"

"Say rather anxious, dear Stephanie! I have done my best to have the roads patrolled, but I fear your horse or your escort must have been indifferent that you have been so delayed."

"I am afraid it was my own fault, cousin, that I went too far and forgot that my Scottish gentleman equerry for the day was but lately wounded in your service and could ill bear the saddle. As it is, I have left him behind me, and I fear that he will be but a fit subject for his bed for some days to come! How triumphantly your music sounds!"

"It should ring twice as bravely from thrice as many trumpets as we have viols, would you but give me leave, Stephanie, and bid me don a bridal suit. You are vastly G.o.ddess-like to-night?"

"Because I am happy, despite the war that makes you all so gloomy!"

"If I could think your happiness was in being here in Ratisbon with me, then should not war last a week. I would even make terms and bid Gustavus to our nuptials."

"And sacrifice the future of Wallenstein?" she asked with a pretty malice.

"Why? What of Wallenstein?"

"Wallenstein's army grows greater every day!"

"'Tis well! We could make the better bargain with Gustavus."

"And the Emperor?"

"Would console himself for the loss of glory in finding a son-in-law who would adventure the care of his rebellious Stephanie."

The Elector's brow had cleared. He was enraptured to find her in so winning a mood that he proposed a pavane. And in a few minutes dancing was the order of the evening.

The Jesuit watched and noticed how the Elector surrendered to his pa.s.sion, confident at last that he had virtually won the hand of the princess. At last he left the court circle alone and quietly, and went to the lodging he shared with Nigel. There another surprise awaited him, for Nigel lay asleep in his bed. The Jesuit examined the bandages, saw that they had been freshly put on, and that tied in the final knot was a single long black hair.

CHAPTER XLII.

IN THE ABBEY CHURCH.

It was as the clock at the cathedral boomed out eight on the next night but one that the old abbey church of St Jacob, which by some is called the Scots church, by reason that the Benedictines to whom it once belonged were mostly of Scottish or Irish parentage, was dimly lit as to a chapel on the left side of the choir.

Nigel groped his way up the nave towards it. Another shadow crept out of the darkness of a side door on the northern side, and as it came into the dim circle of light from the single swinging lamp depending from the arch of the chapel, Nigel made out that it was a woman, and that woman the Archd.u.c.h.ess Stephanie.

They exchanged a whispered greeting and knelt down together upon the cushion prepared for them upon the threshold of the chapel. Two men entered by the door of the nave, cloaked, booted, and spurred, as was Nigel, and strode with firm steps up towards the same chapel, and halting sat down upon the nearest seat. They had doffed their hats as they entered, hats with long plumes, and the cloaks did not altogether conceal the steel gorgets which they wore, for the light, dim though it was, caught them. Their stern war-worn faces looked steadily towards the chapel.

From the small door beside the chapel came a priest and his acolyte, a choir boy.

Rapidly the priest read through a short homily in an accent, though the words were German, which betrayed an original acquaintance with the country from which Nigel sprang.

Then he proceeded with more deliberation to recite the marriage service and to ask the questions and to prompt the replies which are therein set forth.

Low and prompt and firm came the answers from Nigel. Low and musical, though not without some tremor in her utterance, came the responses from the Archd.u.c.h.ess Stephanie.

Then came the moment of intense solemnity when the priest placed the ring upon her finger with the words, "Conjungo vos," and an irrepressible sigh came from her, the sigh of relief after a suspense not so long as profound. Still they knelt, and the priest began to celebrate the sacrament of the Ma.s.s preparatory to giving the two souls before him the blessing of Holy Church.

The two knelt oblivious to everything but the presence of one another, and their ears strained not to lose any of the precious words which fell from the priest's lips--words long familiar, sanctified in themselves, sanctified further by long usage, thrice holy in being uttered on this most solemn occasion in their lives.

But while they knelt a procession of shadows seemed to the two onlookers to come into the church, stealthily and slowly, and the two looking round as stealthily, saw that a portion of the nave, and of the side aisles, was being filled. Very quietly one of the two men departed by the door by which the Archd.u.c.h.ess had come. He was there one instant, the next he had melted into the shadow.

The ma.s.s went on. The acolyte did his office. The priest his. Not a falter came into his voice. He seemed even more absorbed in his office than his two kneeling listeners.

Scarcely had he p.r.o.nounced his final benediction, to which the now solitary onlooker added a deep-toned "Amen," than all four, Nigel and his Archd.u.c.h.ess just risen from their knees, the solitary onlooker, and the priest, were startled by the sound of a trumpet, and in a trice the church seemed to be filled with lighted torches.

The light fell upon a n.o.ble a.s.semblage, which moved forward to the open s.p.a.ce before the choir.

In the forefront were the Elector Maximilian and the Archduke Ferdinand.

Behind them came the princ.i.p.al officers of their suite and of the garrison.

Upon the faces of the Elector and of the Archduke sat stern determination. Upon the others, more or less attuned to those of their masters, sat a natural wonder, and on some something of dismay. They had been bidden. They had come. They could only wonder what reason could bring the Elector and his guest to the St Jacob's church at such a time.

Round about stood a guard of perhaps fifty men of the Elector's bodyguard, bearing torches and arms.