The Shadow of the Czar Part 68

As Zabern stood upon the broad flight of steps, carpeted with crimson velvet, and surveyed the vast crowds around, his attention was suddenly arrested by the sight of a horseman at the far end of a boulevard which opened upon the cathedral square. As this avenue was kept clear by the military for the return journey of the princess, there was nothing to impede the rider's progress, and on he came with flying rein and b.l.o.o.d.y spur.

"A courier! a courier!" cried the people, instinctively divining that he was the bearer of weighty tidings. "What news? What news?"

To their cries, however, the rider remained mute.

"By heaven, it's Nikita!" muttered the marshal.

As the quivering steed drew up at the foot of the cathedral-stairs, Zabern sprang to meet his orderly.

"Now, marshal," said the latter, "play the Roman, and fall on your sword's point, for the end has come."

"A good many men shall fall by this blade ere it reaches my heart,"

growled Zabern. "What new trouble do you bring?"

"The chanting of the monks hath ceased; or to be plainer, the Russian standard is floating over the Convent of the Transfiguration."

"Speak you from hearsay merely?"

"I speak of what I have seen."

"The cardinal laughs at us from h.e.l.l; this is the first result of his letter. The Russian invasion has begun, then? Pretty generalship on the part of Dorislas to let the enemy steal thus upon his rear! And where are the monks, that they have not fired the powder-magazine, and sent themselves and their foes flying into the air? They have sworn an oath to do it rather than let the convent fall into the hands of the enemy. There would not now have been one stone upon another if old Faustus had been there."

"It was when on my way back from the camp of Dorislas that I caught sight of the Muscovite standard on the tower of the convent. I immediately rode near and perceived the bayonets of the Paulovski Guards moving to and fro along the battlements. And who should be in command there but Baron Ostrova, the duke's former secretary--he whom the princess banished from Czernova. I at once galloped back to our camp with the news. Dorislas instantly set off with a thousand men; he has invested the convent; his artillery are ready planted for sh.e.l.ling the place, and he now awaits orders from you."

"'Orders'?" repeated Zabern with contempt. "My orders should be, 'Consider yourself cashiered for incompetence.' How many Russians do you suppose there are in the convent?"

"I cannot state the number, marshal--sufficient evidently to overpower the monks, and to hold the place in case of siege."

"And the rest of the Czar's forces?"

"Are abiding quietly in their camp on the other side of the frontier."

"Gladly would I come, Nikita, to direct operations, but that I dare not leave the side of the princess, for there is more danger to be apprehended here than before the convent. Dorislas shall see me with all speed as soon as the coronation is over. Meantime here are his orders."

And the marshal wrote upon a slip of paper: "Maintain cordon till my arrival. Do nothing unless attacked.--ZABERN."

Taking the note, Nikita rode off, his breakneck pace along the boulevard again exciting the wonder of the populace.

"This holding of the coronation while the foe is on Czernovese ground might seem a jest to some," murmured Zabern; "yet if, as I am hoping, the ceremony should tempt the Czar to come forward personally to oppose the princess's rights, then all may yet be well. Since Nicholas has chosen to make an armed raid upon our territory, let him not complain if he should find himself a prisoner of war. And with the Czar in our hands we shall be masters of the game."

On turning to enter the porch, Zabern was met by the chief court official, to whom had been committed all the arrangements connected with the coronation.

"Marshal, the cathedral is full to overflowing, and yet there are hundreds at the northern porch clamoring for admittance, and all provided with proper orders."

"Very bad arrangement on your part."

"Not so, marshal. The tickets issued did not exceed the seating accommodation."

"Ha!" said Zabern, alive to the significance of this statement; "you mean that there are several hundred persons within who have no right to be there?"

"That is so, marshal. The whole body of the northern transept is filled with men who, I am certain, have gained entrance by means of forged orders. Among these men I recognize many Muscovites, not ruffians from Russograd, but Muscovites of the n.o.bler and wealthier cla.s.s."

"So!" murmured Zabern. "Their plot of the barricades having been forestalled and thwarted, the enemy are resorting to new manoeuvres."

"Some are in uniform, and some in court dress, and hence they are armed with swords. If we should attempt to expel them there will be opposition, tumult, possibly bloodshed. What's to be done?"

"At present, nothing. Let us, if possible, avoid a riot. If they choose to remain orderly, good; but if it be their object to oppose the coronation by armed force, then their blood be upon their own heads."

"And the mult.i.tude at the northern porch?"

"Will have to remain there, I fear," replied Zabern, shrugging his shoulders.

He pa.s.sed from the porch to the interior of the edifice.

The scene within fairly dazzled the eye. The rich dresses of the ladies, the splendid military costumes of the men, formed a picture glowing with color; on all sides were to be seen the sparkle of jewels and the gleam of scarlet and gold.

As Zabern slowly made his way towards his allotted seat in the choir, he did not fail to notice certain mocking glances cast at him by the occupants of the northern transept. Mischief was evidently the object of their a.s.sembling; but inasmuch as they were inferior in number to the Poles present, and as a word on his part could instantly set in motion the military both inside and outside the cathedral, Zabern viewed this Muscovite gathering without any alarm.

The chancel, elevated considerably above the general level of the cathedral-pavement, was the cynosure of all eyes.

On the altar were the sacramental vessels, the princely regalia, and the doc.u.ment supposed to be the original Czernovese Charter, never publicly exhibited, except at a coronation.

To the left of the altar was an oaken chair in which the princess would sit, till the time came for her to take her place on the throne.

Respectively north and south of the altar, and each vying with the other in splendor of vestment, stood the two ecclesiastics who were to officiate in the ceremony, the Greek Archpastor Mosco, and the mitred Abbot Faustus; the latter a good man, and a stern old patriot, quite capable, as Zabern had said, of blowing himself to fragments, if Polish interests should require such sacrifice.

While Zabern from his place was intently studying the occupants of the northern transept, under the belief that the Czar was concealed somewhere among them, a small door in the left wall of the choir opened, and Barbara entered, bare-headed, and clothed in her coronation-robe,--a vestment of purple velvet, bordered with ermine, and gleaming with pearls. Four ladies attended her as train-bearers.

Awed by the solemnity of the occasion, she was very pale, and with the glory of the sunlight illumining her figure as she moved forward with slow and majestic pace, she seemed to her adherents afar off like a fair vision from another world.

According to the prescribed ritual, the first part of the ceremony consisted in reading a chapter from one of the Four Evangelists, a duty which by previous arrangement fell to the lot of Mosco.

As soon, therefore, as Barbara had taken her place in the oaken chair, she glanced at the archpastor as a sign for him to begin.

Now great importance was attached both by the Poles and the Muscovites to this reading of the Gospel. The lection was neither appointed beforehand nor chosen by the ecclesiastic officiating; it was left to the guidance of chance, or rather, as the Czernovese themselves believed, to the will of the Deity. The lector, following a usage of mediaeval times, was required to open the holy volume at random and to read the first chapter upon which his eye should happen to light. It was believed that the portion thus. .h.i.t on would contain something applicable to the person crowned or even prophetic of the character of the reign.

As Mosco with dignified bearing moved to the lectern, he pa.s.sed close to Zabern, whose quick ear instantly detected a peculiar sound beneath the archpastor's brocaded and jewelled ca.s.sock,--a sound which the marshal could liken only to the trail of a steel scabbard.

"As I live the fellow is armed," he muttered. "A holy prelate with a sword beneath his gown! There's treason here."

Zabern's first impulse was to spring up, and tearing off Mosco's gown, to expose him to the a.s.sembly as an armed conspirator.

It might be, however, that, like himself, the archpastor antic.i.p.ated that there would be rioting and fighting at the coronation, and hence he had as much right as others to carry arms for his own defence.

Zabern therefore refrained from violence, but his keen eyes were attentive to every movement of Mosco.

On the brazen lectern, which stood upon the edge of the choir, directly facing the a.s.sembly, lay a volume of the Four Evangelists, closed and clasped.

Mosco unfastened the clasp, and then evidently wishing to be thought clear of all suspicion of designedly choosing his lection, he turned away his head, and with nimble fingers threw open the volume; and yet in spite of this, Zabern was impressed with the belief that the Greek prelate knew beforehand at what page the book was open. He had not forgotten that this reading of the Gospel had been selected by Mosco himself as his part in the coronation-ceremony, and he recalled the archpastor's peculiar smile at the time of his choosing the office.