The Mystery of the Lost Dauphin Part 28

"His name is William Naundorff and he comes from England, though he has been brought up in Prussia."

The d.u.c.h.ess seemed about to swoon. Her head dropped upon the chair back and swayed from side to side. The Duke hastened to revive her by holding to her nose a flask of English smelling salts.

Chapter II

THE QUESTION

More through an effort of her strong will than because of the efficaciousness of the smelling salts, the d.u.c.h.ess sat upright and fixed upon the Duke her keen eyes.

"Why," she asked, "does the King desire that; I should be so minutely informed? Why not settle the matter in those departments wherein the governmental thunderbolts are forged, since it is a question pertaining to statecraft? Can I not be left in peace, I the desolate survivor of the shipwreck?--I who ask only for solitude in which to pray."

"It is natural that we should consult you when THE PRINCIPLE is involved. Moreover, we depend upon your firmness and energy. You can offer us valuable suggestions, for no one has so imposing a conception of the royal dignity."

"That is because no one else has endured so much for the royal cause. I am the unhappiest woman on earth--" and her tears fell. "I wrote so upon the walls of my prison and it is still the truth."

"Therese, what memories! What a tragedy!"

"In that prison," she exclaimed, "in that horrible prison, while we underwent the Via Crucis of outrages, there arose like a beautiful star, illuminating even the prisons and scaffolds,--there arose the PRINCIPLE.

Only the PRINCIPLE is of moment; individuals are as nothing. What matter our sufferings or the blood that was spilled, or all the heads that fell if the principle remain the centre of life? But one head fell which incarnated the PRINCIPLE and it has cried for vengeance to G.o.d."

A fire glowed in her faded eyes, her heart beat so rapidly that the paper beneath the dress rustled. The Duke drew closer but made no effort to touch even her hands. No sweet transport had united these souls.

"I rejoice to see you thus, Therese," he murmured. "What has made the King fear your att.i.tude on this question?"

"As the King has not suffered, he has no comprehension of the PRINCIPLE.

I pray much for the King. He is a weakling."

"Not so today, Therese," the Duke interposed. "His Majesty's tastes differ, perhaps, from yours, from ours; but when he beholds the ship of state in danger, then does he recover his spirit, rather then does he seem to, for in reality he never loses it. Because of his artistic and philosophical pre-occupations and of his adherence to certain doctrines--which, to be frank, are not to my liking,--because of these, he regards at times indifferently what he eventually realizes to be of supreme importance. There are times when his imagination dominates him, but he has too great a mind to permit such impressions to be more than transitory. Do you remember the recent episode of the visionary Martin?

Well, for a while the King was greatly troubled. He believed his end to be near."

"It is," she observed with no trace of emotion. "His infirmities increase rapidly."

"All the more reason," he rejoined, "that we should live cautiously. His Majesty's ill health may cause complications."

"And how does that fear affect your att.i.tude with regard to--imposters?"

"Very closely. Old Martin insisted that one of the imposters was in reality your brother. May G.o.d preserve us from beholding the King a victim to that illusion. All imposters shall be rebuffed if we stand our ground. Their mult.i.tude and diverse origins destroy whatever advantage any one of them may have gained. Tho human credulity is infinite, it seems to me impossible that they should make a lasting impression on the public or cause any of the European Cabinets to lose confidence in the government. This last consideration is of the greatest importance.

Europe is at enmity with France, but the Holy Alliance has sustained us, teas steadied the tottering throne, because we are the principle.

Insidious rumors regarding your brother are being carried to the ears of European sovereigns. It is insistently claimed that he lives. The intervention of some foreign cabinet is imminent, which would carry in train disastrous results. Can we contemplate another invasion of France?

How avoid it if the stigma of usurpers be attached to us?"

The d.u.c.h.ess's eyes were riveted on the carpet.

"Let us thank G.o.d," continued the Duke, "that amid the cohort of adventurers, charlatans and self-deluded fools which is recruited from all quarters, there is not one whose ability and certificates differentiate him sufficiently from the others to claim the attention of Europe. Should such a one arise and triumph over us, the Revolution which we have crushed would break forth with redoubled fury. Therese, to outward appearance, we lie on a bed of roses; in reality, a volcano rumbles beneath our feet. We have to act with the greatest circ.u.mspection. We are watched, we are hounded. We, the men and women of the House Regnant of France, must be wise as the serpent and gentle as the dove; we must even make compromises. That is why I spoke (in my proclamation of Saint Jean de Lumiere) of crushing tyranny and breaking chains. That is why I have through the columns of the Meridien prescribed limits to the zeal of our partizans, who demand blood in the celebration of our triumph. The King, therefore, would warn you that a false step, an impulse of generosity from your n.o.ble heart might--"

"Do I const.i.tute so great a peril?" she sardonically asked.

"An immense peril,--that of your generous nature, your excessive,--no, I should not say excessive,--conscientiousness; but, Therese, it is so easy to be misled by our rect.i.tude. Will you believe that my brother Ferdinand, in whom our hopes of succession lie, (here the d.u.c.h.ess winced)--for although his children have been girls, a boy may be born to him,--I repeat that Ferdinand inclines favorably toward the impostors--that is to say, not all of them, but one in particular."

She revealed her displeasure. Nothing so much irritated her as allusion to her sterility.

"Ferdinand," she began aimlessly.

"Yes, Ferdinand, following the generous impulses of his heart--or--for some reason--which--Well, Ferdinand cannot think and act as we do--because he has lived--has been the slave of his pa.s.sions. Indeed, his life resembles, in certain respects that of the impostor whom he supports. He also lived for a period obscurely and in London, forming there ties with a woman of the people. You remember Amy Brown and the children she bore him. When one's antecedents have not been of a licit character, one is predisposed to make extraordinary excuses for others.

You and I are not of that kind, Therese. We may proudly hold up our heads. Ferdinand has decided to believe that your brother lives, and, in consequence, places faith in whatever impostor raises his head, saying that one among them is Charles Louis."

The d.u.c.h.ess trembled, notwithstanding her attempted impa.s.sivity.

"My father," resumed the Duke, "alarmed at his att.i.tude, has remonstrated with him but to no purpose other than that of prevailing upon him to cease making public display of his opinions. He therefore no longer proclaims them from the house-top. You, Therese, employing the influence with which your virtues invest you, must caution Ferdinand and his wife, Caroline, against indiscretions. Insist that the members of the royal family must act in harmony. What would be the consequence of the slightest admission?" And, as she remained silent, he added, "You do not answer."

"Yes, yes, I am about to answer. For three nights I have not slept and for three days I have prayed continually. O, if among those who a.s.sume my brother's name, there be one who presents proofs,--do you hear?--irrefutable proofs, to such a one we have no right to apply the epithet impostor. If he bear incontestable doc.u.mentary evidence, should we longer doubt? You know well that Charles Louis's death certificate has never been found. The copy which exists is not authentic."

Lowering her voice still more, even though aware that they could not be overheard, she continued:

"You know also that I went incognito to the Hospital of Incurables and interviewed the cobbler's wife. Notwithstanding my disguise, the unfortunate woman knew me and said: 'I am not insane. They have placed me here to silence me. The boy lives.'"

The Duke paced feverishly up and down.

"There are a thousand testimonials and a.s.severations by conscientious persons who have recognized this claimant. He says things which only my brother can say. And as the time has come to speak the whole truth, I shall tell you that he has written to me. His letter has rested here three days; it burns like a live coal. It burns my fingers and my heart."

She pulled the paper from her bosom and placed it before him.

"I had thought myself incapable of tears. I had wept so much that it seemed impossible to weep always. But this letter has unsealed my tear ducts. This man knows only what my brother would know. He entreats an interview. He wishes me to decide his claim. He asks that my heart be judge, though he offers to bring doc.u.mentary proofs which any court would sustain. Why do we refuse to hear him?"

The Duke's perturbation increased.

"Therese," he said at length, "your affection for your dead brother is so well known that these pretenders seek to exploit that affection.

Beware! An imprudent act may blight the dynasty and France; be the ruin of us all. It rests with you to avert this impending disaster."

"With me? Why with me?"

"Yes, with you," he said almost harshly. "Why did you refuse the embalmed heart sent you by the physician who performed the autopsy on the dead boy in the tower? It was a mistake,--a terrible mistake. The public got wind of it--"

"You say I should have received that offering?--that heart which never beat in my brother's breast? You dare reproach me with that refusal?

Answer me this: why has the King refused up to this day to be anointed?

Why has the Pope forbidden us to celebrate Charles Louis's funeral rites? Have you forgotten the singular proceeding of suspending the mortuary ceremony after the church has been draped in black and the clergy vested? Have you forgotten the Nuncio's announcement: 'The Church offers up requiem ma.s.ses only for the dead?'"

The Duke was dumb.

"Listen," she continued. "Last night as I lay awake the voice of my mother came to me softly and full of tears. She said only: 'Marie Therese! Marie Therese!'"

Losing control of herself, the d.u.c.h.ess sobbed aloud, her face in her hands.

"We must restore the stolen crown, descend from the usurper's throne.