The Puppet Crown [85]
so free was she from the attributes of royalty, so natural and ingenuous. He caught each movement of her delicate head, each gesture of her hand, the countless inflections of her voice, the lights which burned or died away in the dark wine of her eyes.
Poor devil! he mused, himself in mind; poor fool! He forgot the world, he forgot that he was a prisoner on parole, he forgot the strife between the kingdom and the duchy, he forgot everything but the wild impossible love which filled his senses. He forgot even Prince Frederick of Carnavia.
In truth, the world was "a sorry scheme of things." It was grotesque with inequalities. He had no right to love her; it was wrong to give in to the impulses of the heart, the natural, human impulses. A man can beat down the stone walls of a fort, scale the impregnable heights of a citadel, master the earth and the seas, but he can not surmount the invisible barriers which he himself erected in the past ages--the quality of birth. Ah! if only she had been a peasant, unlettered and unknown, and free to be won! The tasks of Hercules were then but play to him!
Next she led him through the aisles of potted plants in the conservatory. She was very learned. She explained the origin of each flower, its native soil, the time and manner of its transportation. Perhaps she was surprised at his lack of botanical knowledge, he asked so many questions. But it was not the flowers, it was her voice, which urged him to these interrogations.
They were on the point of re-entering the reception chamber, when the jingle of a spur on the mosaic floor caused them to turn. Maurice could not control the start; he had forgotten all about Beauvais. The soldier wore the regulation full dress of the cuirassiers, white trousers, tucked into patent leather half- boots, a gray jacket with gold lace and decorations, red saber straps and a gray pelisse hanging from the left shoulder. A splendid soldier, Maurice grudgingly admitted. What would the Colonel say? The situation was humorous rather than otherwise, and Maurice smiled.
"I was looking for your Highness," said Beauvais, as he came up, "to pay my respects. I am leaving." His glance at Maurice was one of polite curiosity.
"Colonel Beauvais," said the princess, coldly, "Monsieur Carewe, of the American Legation in Vienna."
She was not looking at the Colonel, but Maurice was, and the Colonel's total lack of surprise astonished him. The gaze of the two men plunged into each other's eyes like flashes of lightning, but that was all.
"I am charmed," said the Colonel, a half-ironical smile under his mustache. "Your name is not unfamiliar to me."
"No?" said Maurice, with studied politeness.
"No. It is connected with an exploit. Was it not you who faced the students this afternoon and rescued her Highness's dog?"
"Ah!" said Maurice, in a tone which implied that exploits were every day events with him; "it was but a simple thing to do. The students were like so many sheep."
The princess elevated her brows; she felt an undercurrent of something which she did not understand. Indeed, she did not like the manner in which the two men eyed each other. Her glance passed from the stalwart soldier to the slim, athletic form of the civilian.
Conversation drifted aimlessly. Maurice had the malice to cast the brunt of it on the Colonel's shoulders. The princess, like a rose coming in contact with a chill air, drew within herself. She was cold, brief, and serenely indifferent. It was evident to Maurice that she had resumed her royal mantle, and that she had shown him unusual consideration.
Presently she raised her hand to her head, as sometimes one will do unconsciously, and the rose slipped from her hair and dropped to the floor. Both men stooped. Maurice was quickest. With a bow he offered to return it.
"You may keep it, Monsieur;" and she laughed.
They joined her. Maurice knew why the Colonel laughed, and the Colonel knew why Maurice laughed; but neither could account for the laughter of
Poor devil! he mused, himself in mind; poor fool! He forgot the world, he forgot that he was a prisoner on parole, he forgot the strife between the kingdom and the duchy, he forgot everything but the wild impossible love which filled his senses. He forgot even Prince Frederick of Carnavia.
In truth, the world was "a sorry scheme of things." It was grotesque with inequalities. He had no right to love her; it was wrong to give in to the impulses of the heart, the natural, human impulses. A man can beat down the stone walls of a fort, scale the impregnable heights of a citadel, master the earth and the seas, but he can not surmount the invisible barriers which he himself erected in the past ages--the quality of birth. Ah! if only she had been a peasant, unlettered and unknown, and free to be won! The tasks of Hercules were then but play to him!
Next she led him through the aisles of potted plants in the conservatory. She was very learned. She explained the origin of each flower, its native soil, the time and manner of its transportation. Perhaps she was surprised at his lack of botanical knowledge, he asked so many questions. But it was not the flowers, it was her voice, which urged him to these interrogations.
They were on the point of re-entering the reception chamber, when the jingle of a spur on the mosaic floor caused them to turn. Maurice could not control the start; he had forgotten all about Beauvais. The soldier wore the regulation full dress of the cuirassiers, white trousers, tucked into patent leather half- boots, a gray jacket with gold lace and decorations, red saber straps and a gray pelisse hanging from the left shoulder. A splendid soldier, Maurice grudgingly admitted. What would the Colonel say? The situation was humorous rather than otherwise, and Maurice smiled.
"I was looking for your Highness," said Beauvais, as he came up, "to pay my respects. I am leaving." His glance at Maurice was one of polite curiosity.
"Colonel Beauvais," said the princess, coldly, "Monsieur Carewe, of the American Legation in Vienna."
She was not looking at the Colonel, but Maurice was, and the Colonel's total lack of surprise astonished him. The gaze of the two men plunged into each other's eyes like flashes of lightning, but that was all.
"I am charmed," said the Colonel, a half-ironical smile under his mustache. "Your name is not unfamiliar to me."
"No?" said Maurice, with studied politeness.
"No. It is connected with an exploit. Was it not you who faced the students this afternoon and rescued her Highness's dog?"
"Ah!" said Maurice, in a tone which implied that exploits were every day events with him; "it was but a simple thing to do. The students were like so many sheep."
The princess elevated her brows; she felt an undercurrent of something which she did not understand. Indeed, she did not like the manner in which the two men eyed each other. Her glance passed from the stalwart soldier to the slim, athletic form of the civilian.
Conversation drifted aimlessly. Maurice had the malice to cast the brunt of it on the Colonel's shoulders. The princess, like a rose coming in contact with a chill air, drew within herself. She was cold, brief, and serenely indifferent. It was evident to Maurice that she had resumed her royal mantle, and that she had shown him unusual consideration.
Presently she raised her hand to her head, as sometimes one will do unconsciously, and the rose slipped from her hair and dropped to the floor. Both men stooped. Maurice was quickest. With a bow he offered to return it.
"You may keep it, Monsieur;" and she laughed.
They joined her. Maurice knew why the Colonel laughed, and the Colonel knew why Maurice laughed; but neither could account for the laughter of