The Ten-foot Chain Part 3

"I will send her to the palace to-day."

"Very good; and first tell her why I wish to speak with her. It may be that of herself she will change her mind when she learns the wishes of her prince. Farewell."

And the prince rode off to a review of the troops of the city guard. So it was that Bertha of Herzvina sat for a long time in a lonely room, after her arrival at the palace before the door opened, a man in livery bowed for the entrance of the prince, and she found herself alone with her sovereign.

Automatically she curtsied, and he let her remain bowed while he slowly drew off his white gloves. He still wore his general's uniform with the stiff padding which would not allow his body to grow old, for a prince of p.o.r.nia must always look the soldier.

"Sit down," he ordered, and as she obeyed he commenced to walk the room.

He never sat quietly through an interview if he could avoid it; a const.i.tutional weakness of the nerves made it almost impossible for him to meet another person's eyes. The pacing up and down gave a plausible reason for the continual shifting of his glance.

"A good day, a very good day," he said. "The hussars were wonderful."

His shoulders strained further back. The prince himself always rode at the head of the hussars; in her childhood she had admired him. He stopped at a window and hummed a marching air. That was a planned maneuver, for his back was far more royal than his face, with its tall forehead and diminutive mouth and chin. She felt as if she were in the presence of a uniformed automaton.

He broke off his humming and spoke without turning.

"Well?"

"My decision is unchanged."

"Impossible! In the length of a whole day even a woman must think twice."

"Yes, many times."

"You will not marry him?"

"I cannot love him."

He whirled, and the pale blue eyes flashed at her a brief glance which made her cringe. It was as if an X-ray had been turned on her heart.

"Love!" he said softly, and she shuddered again. "Because he is old?

Bertha, you are no longer a child. Other women marry for what they may term love. It is your privilege to marry for the State. That is the n.o.bler thing."

He smiled and nodded, repeating for his own ear: "The n.o.bler thing! What is greater than such service--what is more glorious than to forget self and marry for the good of the thousands?"

"I have an obligation to myself."

"Who has filled you with so many childish ideas?"

"They have grown of themselves, sire."

The pacing up and down the room recommenced. "Child, have you no desire to serve me? I mean, your country?"

She answered slowly, as if feeling for her words: "It is impossible that I should be able to serve you through my dishonor. If I should marry the crown prince, my life would be one long sleep, sire. I would not dare awaken to the reality."

His head tilted and he laughed noiselessly. A weakness of the throat prevented him from raising his voice even in times of the greatest excitement.

"A soul that sleeps, eh? The kiss of love will awaken it?"

He surveyed her with brief disdain.

"My dear, you scorn t.i.tles, and yet as an unt.i.tled woman you are not a match for the first red-faced tradesman's daughter. Stand up!"

She rose and he led her in front of a pier gla.s.s. Solemnly he studied her pale image.

"A sleeping soul!" he repeated.

She covered her face.

"Will that bait catch the errant lover, Bertha?"

"G.o.d will make up the difference."

He cursed softly. She had not known he could be so moved.

"Poor child, let me talk with you."

He led her back to a chair almost with kindness and sat somewhat behind her so that he need not meet her eyes.

"This love you wait for--it is not a full-grown G.o.d, dear girl, but a blind child. Given a man and a woman and a certain propinquity, and nature does the rest. We put a mask on nature and call it love, we name an abstraction and call it G.o.d. Love! Love! Love! It is a pretty disguise--no more. Do you understand?"

"I will not."

She listened to his quick breathing.

"Bertha, if I were to chain you with a ten-foot chain to the first man off the streets and leave you alone with him for three days, what would happen?"

Her hand closed on the arm of the chair. He rose and paced the room as his idea grew.

"Your eyes would criticize him and your shame would fight in behalf of your--soul? And the sight of your shame would keep the man in check. But suppose the room were dark--suppose you could not see his face and merely knew that a man was there--suppose _he_ could not see and merely knew that a woman was there? What would happen? Would it be love? Pah!

Love is no more deified than hunger. If it is satisfied, it goes to sleep; if it is satiated, it turns to loathing. Aye, at the end of the three days you would be glad enough to have the ten-foot chain cut. But first what would happen?"

The vague terror grew coldly in her, for she could see the idea taking hold of him like a hand.

"If I were to do this, the world might term it a shameful thing, but I act for p.o.r.nia--not for myself. I consider only the good of the State.

By this experiment I prove to you that love is not G.o.d, but blind nature. Yes, and if you knew it as it is, would you oppose me longer?

The thought grows upon me! Speak!"

Her smile made her almost beautiful.

"Sire, in all the world there is only one man for every woman."

"Book talk."

He set his teeth because he could not meet her eyes.

"And who will bring you this one man?"