CHAPTER XI - PROVIDENCE VON ROSEN: ACT THE FIRST
SHE BEGUILES THE BARON
AT a sufficiently late hour, or to be more exact, at three in the
afternoon, Madame von Rosen issued on the world. She swept
downstairs and out across the garden, a black mantilla thrown over
her head, and the long train of her black velvet dress ruthlessly
sweeping in the dirt.
At the other end of that long garden, and back to back with the
villa of the Countess, stood the large mansion where the Prime
Minister transacted his affairs and pleasures. This distance, which
was enough for decency by the easy canons of Mittwalden, the
Countess swiftly traversed, opened a little door with a key, mounted
a flight of stairs, and entered unceremoniously into Gondremark's
study. It was a large and very high apartment; books all about the
walls, papers on the table, papers on the floor; here and there a
picture, somewhat scant of drapery; a great fire glowing and flaming
in the blue tiled hearth; and the daylight streaming through a
cupola above. In the midst of this sat the great Baron Gondremark
in his shirt-sleeves, his business for that day fairly at an end,
and the hour arrived for relaxation. His expression, his very
nature, seemed to have undergone a fundamental change. Gondremark
at home appeared the very antipode of Gondremark on duty. He had an
air of massive jollity that well became him; grossness and geniality
sat upon his features; and along with his manners, he had laid aside
his sly and sinister expression. He lolled there, sunning his bulk
before the fire, a noble animal.
'Hey!' he cried. 'At last!'
The Countess stepped into the room in silence, threw herself on a
chair, and crossed her legs. In her lace and velvet, with a good
display of smooth black stocking and of snowy petticoat, and with
the refined profile of her face and slender plumpness of her body,
she showed in singular contrast to the big, black, intellectual
satyr by the fire.
'How often do you send for me?' she cried. 'It is compromising.'
Gondremark laughed. 'Speaking of that,' said he, 'what in the
devil's name were you about? You were not home till morning.'
'I was giving alms,' she said.
The Baron again laughed loud and long, for in his shirt-sleeves he
was a very mirthful creature. 'It is fortunate I am not jealous,'
he remarked. 'But you know my way: pleasure and liberty go hand in
hand. I believe what I believe; it is not much, but I believe it. -
But now to business. Have you not read my letter?'
'No,' she said; 'my head ached.'
'Ah, well! then I have news indeed!' cried Gondremark. 'I was mad
to see you all last night and all this morning: for yesterday
afternoon I brought my long business to a head; the ship has come
home; one more dead lift, and I shall cease to fetch and carry for
the Princess Ratafia. Yes, 'tis done. I have the order all in
Ratafia's hand; I carry it on my heart. At the hour of twelve to-
night, Prince Featherhead is to be taken in his bed and, like the
bambino, whipped into a chariot; and by next morning he will command
a most romantic prospect from the donjon of the Felsenburg.
Farewell, Featherhead! The war goes on, the girl is in my hand; I
have long been indispensable, but now I shall be sole. I have
long,' he added exultingly, 'long carried this intrigue upon my
shoulders, like Samson with the gates of Gaza; now I discharge that
burthen.'
She had sprung to her feet a little paler. 'Is this true?' she
cried.
'I tell you a fact,' he asseverated. 'The trick is played.'
'I will never believe it,' she said. 'An order in her own hand? I
will never believe it, Heinrich.'
'I swear to you,' said he.
'O, what do you care for oaths - or I either? What would you swear
by? Wine, women, and song? It is not binding,' she said. She had
come quite close up to him and laid her hand upon his arm. 'As for
the order - no, Heinrich, never! I will never believe it. I will
die ere I believe it. You have some secret purpose - what, I cannot
guess - but not one word of it is true.'
'Shall I show it you?' he asked.
'You cannot,' she answered. 'There is no such thing.'
'Incorrigible Sadducee!' he cried. 'Well, I will convert you; you
shall see the order.' He moved to a chair where he had thrown his
coat, and then drawing forth and holding out a paper, 'Read,' said
he.
She took it greedily, and her eye flashed as she perused it.
'Hey!' cried the Baron, 'there falls a dynasty, and it was I that
felled it; and I and you inherit!' He seemed to swell in stature;
and next moment, with a laugh, he put his hand forward. Give me the
dagger,' said he.
But she whisked the paper suddenly behind her back and faced him,
lowering. 'No, no,' she said. 'You and I have first a point to
settle. Do you suppose me blind? She could never have given that
paper but to one man, and that man her lover. Here you stand - her
lover, her accomplice, her master - O, I well believe it, for I know
your power. But what am I?' she cried; 'I, whom you deceive!'
'Jealousy!' cried Gondremark. 'Anna, I would never have believed
it! But I declare to you by all that's credible that I am not her
lover. I might be, I suppose; but I never yet durst risk the
declaration. The chit is so unreal; a mincing doll; she will and
she will not; there is no counting on her, by God! And hitherto I
have had my own way without, and keep the lover in reserve. And I
say, Anna,' he added with severity, 'you must break yourself of this
new fit, my girl; there must be no combustion. I keep the creature
under the belief that I adore her; and if she caught a breath of you
and me, she is such a fool, prude, and dog in the manger, that she
is capable of spoiling all.'
'All very fine,' returned the lady. 'With whom do you pass your
days? and which am I to believe, your words or your actions?'
'Anna, the devil take you, are you blind?' cried Gondremark. 'You
know me. Am I likely to care for such a preciosa? 'Tis hard that
we should have been together for so long, and you should still take
me for a troubadour. But if there is one thing that I despise and
deprecate, it is all such figures in Berlin wool. Give me a human
woman - like myself. You are my mate; you were made for me; you
amuse me like the play. And what have I to gain that I should
pretend to you? If I do not love you, what use are you to me? Why,
none. It is as clear as noonday.'
'Do you love me, Heinrich?' she asked, languishing. 'Do you truly?'
'I tell you,' he cried, 'I love you next after myself. I should be
all abroad if I had lost you.'
'Well, then,' said she, folding up the paper and putting it calmly
in her pocket, 'I will believe you, and I join the plot. Count upon
me. At midnight, did you say? It is Gordon, I see, that you have
charged with it. Excellent; he will stick at nothing - '
Gondremark watched her suspiciously. 'Why do you take the paper?'
he demanded. 'Give it here.'
'No,' she returned; 'I mean to keep it. It is I who must prepare
the stroke; you cannot manage it without me; and to do my best I
must possess the paper. Where shall I find Gordon? In his rooms?'
She spoke with a rather feverish self-possession.
'Anna,' he said sternly, the black, bilious countenance of his
palace ROLE taking the place of the more open favour of his hours at
home, 'I ask you for that paper. Once, twice, and thrice.'
'Heinrich,' she returned, looking him in the face, 'take care. I
will put up with no dictation.'
Both looked dangerous; and the silence lasted for a measurable
interval of time. Then she made haste to have the first word; and
with a laugh that rang clear and honest, 'Do not be a child,' she
said. 'I wonder at you. If your assurances are true, you can have
no reason to mistrust me, nor I to play you false. The difficulty
is to get the Prince out of the palace without scandal. His valets
are devoted; his chamberlain a slave; and yet one cry might ruin
all.'
'They must be overpowered,' he said, following her to the new
ground, 'and disappear along with him.'
'And your whole scheme along with them!' she cried. 'He does not
take his servants when he goes a-hunting: a child could read the
truth. No, no; the plan is idiotic; it must be Ratafia's. But hear
me. You know the Prince worships me?'
'I know,' he said. 'Poor Featherhead, I cross his destiny!'
'Well now,' she continued, 'what if I bring him alone out of the
palace, to some quiet corner of the Park - the Flying Mercury, for
instance? Gordon can be posted in the thicket; the carriage wait
behind the temple; not a cry, not a scuffle, not a footfall; simply,
the Prince vanishes! - What do you say? Am I an able ally? Are my
BEAUX YUEX of service? Ah, Heinrich, do not lose your Anna! - she
has power!'
He struck with his open hand upon the chimney. 'Witch!' he said,
'there is not your match for devilry in Europe. Service! the thing
runs on wheels.'
'Kiss me, then, and let me go. I must not miss my Featherhead,' she
said.
'Stay, stay,' said the Baron; 'not so fast. I wish, upon my soul,
that I could trust you; but you are, out and in, so whimsical a
devil that I dare not. Hang it, Anna, no; it's not possible!'
'You doubt me, Heinrich?' she cried.
'Doubt is not the word,' said he. 'I know you. Once you were clear
of me with that paper in your pocket, who knows what you would do
with it? - not you, at least - nor I. You see,' he added, shaking
his head paternally upon the Countess, 'you are as vicious as a
monkey.'
'I swear to you,' she cried, 'by my salvation . . . '
'I have no curiosity to hear you swearing,' said the Baron.
'You think that I have no religion? You suppose me destitute of
honour. Well,' she said, 'see here: I will not argue, but I tell
you once for all: leave me this order, and the Prince shall be
arrested - take it from me, and, as certain as I speak, I will upset
the coach. Trust me, or fear me: take your choice.' And she
offered him the paper.
The Baron, in a great contention of mind, stood irresolute, weighing
the two dangers. Once his hand advanced, then dropped. 'Well,' he
said, 'since trust is what you call it . . .'
'No more,' she interrupted, 'Do not spoil your attitude. And now
since you have behaved like a good sort of fellow in the dark, I
will condescend to tell you why. I go to the palace to arrange with
Gordon; but how is Gordon to obey me? And how can I foresee the
hours? It may be midnight; ay, and it may be nightfall; all's a
chance; and to act, I must be free and hold the strings of the
adventure. And now,' she cried, 'your Vivien goes. Dub me your
knight!' And she held out her arms and smiled upon him radiant.
'Well,' he said, when he had kissed her, 'every man must have his
folly; I thank God mine is no worse. Off with you! I have given a
child a squib.
