CHAPTER 8
A Fair Cousin and a Dark Brother
A real king's life is perhaps a hard one; but a pretended king's is,
I warrant, much harder. On the next day, Sapt instructed me in my
duties--what I ought to do and what I ought to know--for three hours;
then I snatched breakfast, with Sapt still opposite me, telling me that
the King always took white wine in the morning and was known to detest
all highly seasoned dishes. Then came the Chancellor, for another three
hours; and to him I had to explain that the hurt to my finger (we turned
that bullet to happy account) prevented me from writing--whence arose
great to-do, hunting of precedents and so forth, ending in my "making
my mark," and the Chancellor attesting it with a superfluity of solemn
oaths. Then the French ambassador was introduced, to present his
credentials; here my ignorance was of no importance, as the King would
have been equally raw to the business (we worked through the whole _corps
diplomatique_ in the next few days, a demise of the Crown necessitating
all this bother).
Then, at last, I was left alone. I called my new servant (we had chosen,
to succeed poor Josef, a young man who had never known the King), had a
brandy-and-soda brought to me, and observed to Sapt that I trusted that
I might now have a rest. Fritz von Tarlenheim was standing by.
"By heaven!" he cried, "we waste time. Aren't we going to throw Black
Michael by the heels?"
"Gently, my son, gently," said Sapt, knitting his brows. "It would be
a pleasure, but it might cost us dear. Would Michael fall and leave the
King alive?"
"And," I suggested, "while the King is here in Strelsau, on his throne,
what grievance has he against his dear brother Michael?"
"Are we to do nothing, then?"
"We're to do nothing stupid," growled Sapt.
"In fact, Fritz," said I, "I am reminded of a situation in one of our
English plays--The Critic--have you heard of it? Or, if you like, of two
men, each covering the other with a revolver. For I can't expose Michael
without exposing myself--"
"And the King," put in Sapt.
"And, hang me if Michael won't expose himself, if he tries to expose
me!"
"It's very pretty," said old Sapt.
"If I'm found out," I pursued, "I will make a clean breast of it, and
fight it out with the duke; but at present I'm waiting for a move from
him."
"He'll kill the King," said Fritz.
"Not he," said Sapt.
"Half of the Six are in Strelsau," said Fritz.
"Only half? You're sure?" asked Sapt eagerly.
"Yes--only half."
"Then the King's alive, for the other three are guarding him!" cried
Sapt.
"Yes--you're right!" exclaimed Fritz, his face brightening. "If the
King were dead and buried, they'd all be here with Michael. You know
Michael's back, colonel?"
"I know, curse him!"
"Gentlemen, gentlemen," said I, "who are the Six?"
"I think you'll make their acquaintance soon," said Sapt. "They are six
gentlemen whom Michael maintains in his household: they belong to him
body and soul. There are three Ruritanians; then there's a Frenchman, a
Belgian, and one of your countrymen."
"They'd all cut a throat if Michael told them," said Fritz.
"Perhaps they'll cut mine," I suggested.
"Nothing more likely," agreed Sapt. "Who are here, Fritz?"
"De Gautet, Bersonin, and Detchard."
"The foreigners! It's as plain as a pikestaff. He's brought them, and
left the Ruritanians with the King; that's because he wants to commit
the Ruritanians as deep as he can."
"They were none of them among our friends at the lodge, then?" I asked.
"I wish they had been," said Sapt wistfully. "They had been, not six,
but four, by now."
I had already developed one attribute of royalty--a feeling that I need
not reveal all my mind or my secret designs even to my intimate friends.
I had fully resolved on my course of action. I meant to make myself
as popular as I could, and at the same time to show no disfavour to
Michael. By these means I hoped to allay the hostility of his adherents,
and make it appear, if an open conflict came about, that he was
ungrateful and not oppressed.
Yet an open conflict was not what I hoped for.
The King's interest demanded secrecy; and while secrecy lasted, I had
a fine game to play in Strelsau, Michael should not grow stronger for
delay!
I ordered my horse, and, attended by Fritz von Tarlenheim, rode in the
grand new avenue of the Royal Park, returning all the salutes which I
received with punctilious politeness. Then I rode through a few of the
streets, stopped and bought flowers of a pretty girl, paying her with
a piece of gold; and then, having attracted the desired amount of
attention (for I had a trail of half a thousand people after me), I rode
to the residence of the Princess Flavia, and asked if she would
receive me. This step created much interest, and was met with shouts of
approval. The princess was very popular, and the Chancellor himself had
not scrupled to hint to me that the more I pressed my suit, and the more
rapidly I brought it to a prosperous conclusion, the stronger should I
be in the affection of my subjects. The Chancellor, of course, did not
understand the difficulties which lay in the way of following his loyal
and excellent advice. However, I thought I could do no harm by calling;
and in this view Fritz supported me with a cordiality that surprised me,
until he confessed that he also had his motives for liking a visit to
the princess's house, which motive was no other than a great desire to
see the princess's lady-in-waiting and bosom friend, the Countess Helga
von Strofzin.
Etiquette seconded Fritz's hopes. While I was ushered into the
princess's room, he remained with the countess in the ante-chamber: in
spite of the people and servants who were hanging about, I doubt not
that they managed a tete-a-tete; but I had no leisure to think of them,
for I was playing the most delicate move in all my difficult game. I had
to keep the princess devoted to me--and yet indifferent to me: I had to
show affection for her--and not feel it. I had to make love for another,
and that to a girl who--princess or no princess--was the most beautiful
I had ever seen. Well, I braced myself to the task, made no easier by
the charming embarrassment with which I was received. How I succeeded in
carrying out my programme will appear hereafter.
"You are gaining golden laurels," she said. "You are like the prince in
Shakespeare who was transformed by becoming king. But I'm forgetting you
are King, sire."
"I ask you to speak nothing but what your heart tells you--and to call
me nothing but my name."
She looked at me for a moment.
"Then I'm glad and proud, Rudolf," said she. "Why, as I told you, your
very face is changed."
I acknowledged the compliment, but I disliked the topic; so I said:
"My brother is back, I hear. He made an excursion, didn't he?"
"Yes, he is here," she said, frowning a little.
"He can't stay long from Strelsau, it seems," I observed, smiling.
"Well, we are all glad to see him. The nearer he is, the better."
The princess glanced at me with a gleam of amusement in her eyes.
"Why, cousin? Is it that you can--?"
"See better what he's doing? Perhaps," said I. "And why are you glad?"
"I didn't say I was glad," she answered.
"Some people say so for you."
"There are many insolent people," she said, with delightful haughtiness.
"Possibly you mean that I am one?"
"Your Majesty could not be," she said, curtseying in feigned deference,
but adding, mischievously, after a pause: "Unless, that is--"
"Well, unless what?"
"Unless you tell me that I mind a snap of my fingers where the Duke of
Strelsau is."
Really, I wished that I had been the King.
"You don't care where cousin Michael--"
"Ah, cousin Michael! I call him the Duke of Strelsau."
"You call him Michael when you meet him?"
"Yes--by the orders of your father."
"I see. And now by mine?"
"If those are your orders."
"Oh, decidedly! We must all be pleasant to our dear Michael."
"You order me to receive his friends, too, I suppose?"
"The Six?"
"You call them that, too?"
"To be in the fashion, I do. But I order you to receive no one unless
you like."
"Except yourself?"
"I pray for myself. I could not order."
As I spoke, there came a cheer from the street. The princess ran to the
window.
"It is he!" she cried. "It is--the Duke of Strelsau!"
I smiled, but said nothing. She returned to her seat. For a few moments
we sat in silence. The noise outside subsided, but I heard the tread of
feet in the ante-room. I began to talk on general subjects. This went on
for some minutes. I wondered what had become of Michael, but it did
not seem to be for me to interfere. All at once, to my great surprise,
Flavia, clasping her hands asked in an agitated voice:
"Are you wise to make him angry?"
"What? Who? How am I making him angry?"
"Why, by keeping him waiting."
"My dear cousin, I don't want to keep him--"
"Well, then, is he to come in?"
"Of course, if you wish it."
She looked at me curiously.
"How funny you are," she said. "Of course no one could be announced
while I was with you."
Here was a charming attribute of royalty!
"An excellent etiquette!" I cried. "But I had clean forgotten it; and if
I were alone with someone else, couldn't you be announced?"
"You know as well as I do. I could be, because I am of the Blood;" and
she still looked puzzled.
"I never could remember all these silly rules," said I, rather feebly,
as I inwardly cursed Fritz for not posting me up. "But I'll repair my
fault."
I jumped up, flung open the door, and advanced into the ante-room.
Michael was sitting at a table, a heavy frown on his face. Everyone
else was standing, save that impudent young dog Fritz, who was lounging
easily in an armchair, and flirting with the Countess Helga. He leapt up
as I entered, with a deferential alacrity that lent point to his former
nonchalance. I had no difficulty in understanding that the duke might
not like young Fritz.
I held out my hand, Michael took it, and I embraced him. Then I drew him
with me into the inner room.
"Brother," I said, "if I had known you were here, you should not have
waited a moment before I asked the princess to permit me to bring you to
her."
He thanked me, but coldly. The man had many qualities, but he could not
hide his feelings. A mere stranger could have seen that he hated me, and
hated worse to see me with Princess Flavia; yet I am persuaded that he
tried to conceal both feelings, and, further, that he tried to persuade
me that he believed I was verily the King. I did not know, of course;
but, unless the King were an impostor, at once cleverer and more
audacious than I (and I began to think something of myself in that
role), Michael could not believe that. And, if he didn't, how he must
have loathed paying me deference, and hearing my "Michael" and my
"Flavia!"
"Your hand is hurt, sire," he observed, with concern.
"Yes, I was playing a game with a mongrel dog" (I meant to stir him),
"and you know, brother, such have uncertain tempers."
He smiled sourly, and his dark eyes rested on me for a moment.
"But is there no danger from the bite?" cried Flavia anxiously.
"None from this," said I. "If I gave him a chance to bite deeper, it
would be different, cousin."
"But surely he has been destroyed?" said she.
"Not yet. We're waiting to see if his bite is harmful."
"And if it is?" asked Michael, with his sour smile.
"He'll be knocked on the head, brother," said I.
"You won't play with him any more?" urged Flavia.
"Perhaps I shall."
"He might bite again."
"Doubtless he'll try," said I, smiling.
Then, fearing Michael would say something which I must appear to
resent (for, though I might show him my hate, I must seem to be full of
favour), I began to compliment him on the magnificent condition of his
regiment, and of their loyal greeting to me on the day of my coronation.
Thence I passed to a rapturous description of the hunting-lodge which
he had lent me. But he rose suddenly to his feet. His temper was failing
him, and, with an excuse, he said farewell. However, as he reached the
door he stopped, saying:
"Three friends of mine are very anxious to have the honour of being
presented to you, sire. They are here in the ante-chamber."
I joined him directly, passing my arm through his. The look on his
face was honey to me. We entered the ante-chamber in fraternal fashion.
Michael beckoned, and three men came forward.
"These gentlemen," said Michael, with a stately courtesy which, to
do him justice, he could assume with perfect grace and ease, "are the
loyalest and most devoted of your Majesty's servants, and are my very
faithful and attached friends."
"On the last ground as much as the first," said I, "I am very pleased to
see them."
They came one by one and kissed my hand--De Gautet, a tall lean fellow,
with hair standing straight up and waxed moustache; Bersonin, the
Belgian, a portly man of middle height with a bald head (though he was
not far past thirty); and last, the Englishman, Detchard, a narrow-faced
fellow, with close-cut fair hair and a bronzed complexion. He was a
finely made man, broad in the shoulder and slender in the hips. A good
fighter, but a crooked customer, I put him down for. I spoke to him in
English, with a slight foreign accent, and I swear the fellow smiled,
though he hid the smile in an instant.
"So Mr. Detchard is in the secret," thought I.
Having got rid of my dear brother and his friends, I returned to make my
adieu to my cousin. She was standing at the door. I bade her farewell,
taking her hand in mine.
"Rudolf," she said, very low, "be careful, won't you?"
"Of what?"
"You know--I can't say. But think what your life is to--"
"Well to--?"
"To Ruritania."
Was I right to play the part, or wrong to play the part? I know not:
evil lay both ways, and I dared not tell her the truth.
"Only to Ruritania?" I asked softly.
A sudden flush spread over her incomparable face.
"To your friends, too," she said.
"Friends?"
"And to your cousin," she whispered, "and loving servant."
I could not speak. I kissed her hand, and went out cursing myself.
Outside I found Master Fritz, quite reckless of the footmen, playing at
cat's-cradle with the Countess Helga.
"Hang it!" said he, "we can't always be plotting. Love claims his
share."
"I'm inclined to think he does," said I; and Fritz, who had been by my
side, dropped respectfully behind.
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