The Princess Virginia Part 22

"What did you telegraph?" asked the Emperor, icily.

"Nothing compromising to your Majesty, you may well believe. I inquired of Adalbert if he had English relations, a Lady Mowbray and daughter Helen, traveling in Rhaetia; and I begged that, if so, he would describe their appearance by telegram. To von Sark I said that particulars by wire concerning the widow of Lord Mowbray and daughter Helen, would put me under personal obligation. Both these messages I sent off night before last. Yesterday I received Adalbert's answer; this morning, von Sark's. They are here," and the Chancellor tapped the breast of his gray coat. "Will your Majesty read them?"

"If you wish," replied Leopold at his haughtiest and coldest.

The old man unb.u.t.toned his coat and produced a coroneted pocket-book, a souvenir of friendship on his last birthday from the Emperor.

Leopold saw it, and remembered, as the Chancellor hoped he would.

"Here are the telegrams, your Majesty," he said. "The first one is from the Crown Prince of Hungaria."

"Have no idea where Lady Mowbray and daughter are traveling; may be Rhaetia or North Pole," Adalbert had written with characteristic flippancy. "Have seen neither for eight years, and scarcely know them.

But Lady M. tall brown old party with nose like hobbyhorse. Helen dark, nose like mother's, wears gla.s.ses."

With no betrayal of feeling, Leopold laid the telegram on the red plush seat, and unfolded the other.

"Pardon delay," the Rhaetian amba.s.sador's message began. "Have been making inquiries. Lady Mowbray has been widow for ten years. Not rich.

During son's minority has let her town and country houses, lives much abroad. Very high church, intellectual, at present in Calcutta, where her daughter Helen, twenty-eight, not pretty, is lately engaged to marry middle-aged Judge of some distinction."

"So!" And the Emperor threw aside the second bit of paper. "It is on such slight grounds as these that a man of the world can label two ladies 'adventuresses'!"

The Chancellor was bitterly disappointed. He had counted on the impression which these telegrams must make, and unless Leopold were acting, it was now certain that love had driven him out of his senses.

But if the Emperor were mad, he must be treated accordingly, and the old statesman condescended to "bluff."

"There is still more to tell," he said, "if your Majesty has not heard enough. But I think when you have reflected you will not wish for more. It is clear that the women calling themselves Mowbrays have had the audacity to present themselves here under false colors. They have either deceived Lady Lambert, who introduced them to Rhaetian society, or--still more likely--they have cleverly forged their letters of introduction."

"Why didn't you telegraph to Lady Lambert, while your hand was in?"

sneered Leopold.

"I did, your Majesty, or rather, not knowing her present address I wired a friend of mine, an acquaintance of hers, begging him to make inquiries, without using my name. But I have not yet received an answer to that telegram."

"Until you do, I should think that even a cynic like yourself might give two defenseless, inoffensive ladies the benefit of the doubt."

"Inoffensive?" echoed von Breitstein. "Inoffensive, when they came to this country to ensnare your Majesty through the girl's beauty? But, great Heaven, it is true that I am growing old! I have forgotten to ask your Majesty whether you have gone so far as to mention the word marriage to Miss Mowbray?"

"I'll answer that question by another. Do you really believe that Miss Mowbray came to Rhaetia to 'entrap' me?"

"I do. Though I scarcely think that even her ambition flew as high as you are encouraging it to soar."

"In case you're right she would have been overjoyed with an offer of morganatic marriage."

"Overjoyed is a poor word. Overwhelmed might be nearer."

"Yet I tell you she refused me last night, and is leaving Rhaetia to-day rather than listen to further entreaties."

Leopold bent forward to launch this thunderbolt, his brown hands on his knees, his eyes eager. The memories, half bitter, half sweet, called up by his own words, caused Virginia to appear more beautiful, more desirable even than before.

He was delighted with the expression of the Chancellor's face. "Now, what arguments have you left?" he broke out in the brief silence.

"All I had before--and many new ones. For what your Majesty has said shows the lady more ambitious, more astute, therefore more dangerous than I had guessed. She staked everything on the power of her charms.

And she might have won, had you not an old servant who wouldn't be fooled by the witcheries of a fair Helen."

"She has won," said Leopold. Then, quickly, "G.o.d forgive me for chiming in with your bitter humor, as if she'd played a game. By simply being herself, she has won me--such as I am. She's proved that if she cares at all, it's for the man, and not the Emperor, since she called the offer you think so magnificent, an insult. Yes, Chancellor, that was the word she used; and it was almost the last she said to me: which is the reason I'm traveling to-day. And none of your boasted 'proofs' can hold me back."

"By Heaven, your Majesty must look upon yourself from the point of view you credit to the girl. You forget the Emperor in the man."

"The two need not be separated."

"Love indeed makes men blind, and spares not the eyes of Emperors."

"I've pledged myself to bear with you, Chancellor."

"And I know you'll keep your word. I must speak, for Rhaetia, and your better self. You are following this--lady to give her your Empire for a toy."

"She must first accept the Emperor as her husband."

"A lady who has so poor a name of her own that she steals one which doesn't belong to her. The nation won't bear it."

"You speak for yourself, not for Rhaetia," said Leopold. "Though I'm not so old as you by half your years, I believe I can judge my people better than you do. The law which bids an Emperor of Rhaetia match with Royalty is an unwritten law, a law solely of customs, handed down through the generations. I'll not spoil my life by submitting to its yoke, since by breaking it the nation gains, as I do. I could go to the world's end and not find a woman as worthy to be my wife and Empress of Rhaetia as Helen Mowbray."

"You have never seen Princess Virginia."

"I've no wish to see her. There's but one woman for me, and I swear to you, if I lose her, I'll go to my grave unmarried. Let the crown fall to my uncle's son. I'll not perjure myself even for Rhaetia."

The Chancellor bowed his head and held up his hands, for by that gesture alone could he express his despair.

"If my people love me, they'll love my wife, and rejoice in my happiness," Leopold went on, sharply. "If they complain, why, we shall see who's master; whether or not the Emperor of Rhaetia is a mere figurehead. In some countries Royalty is but an ornamental survival of a picturesque past, a King or Queen is a mere puppet which the nation loads with luxury to do itself honor. That's not true of Rhaetia, though, as I'm ready to prove, if prove it I must. But I believe I shall be spared the trouble. We Rhaetians love romance; you are perhaps the one exception. While as for the story you've told me, I would not give that for it!" And the Emperor snapped his fingers.

"You still believe the ladies have a right to the name of Mowbray?"

"I believe that they are of stainless reputation, and that any seeming mystery can be explained. Miss Mowbray is herself. That's enough for me. Perhaps, Chancellor, there are two Lady Mowbrays."

"Only one is mentioned in Burke."

"Burke isn't gospel."

"Pardon me. It's the gospel of the British peerage. It can no more be guilty of error than Euclid."

"Nor can Miss Mowbray be guilty of wrong. I should still stake my life on that, even had your conclusions not been lame ones."

The old man accepted this rebuff in silence. But it was not the silence of absolute hopelessness. It was only such a pause as a prize-fighter makes between rounds.

"Your Majesty will not be in too great haste, at all events, I trust,"

he said at last. "At least a little reflection, a little patience, to cool the blood. I have not laid down all my cards yet."

"It's often bad policy not to lead trumps," replied Leopold.

"Often, but not always. Time, and the end of the play will show. Is your Majesty's indulgence for the old man quite exhausted?"