THE THREE STRANGERS.

By noon all Treysa knew, through the papers, of the indisposition of the Crown Princess; and during the afternoon many smart carriages called at the gates of the royal palace to inquire after her Imperial Highness's health.

The pompous, scarlet-liveried porters told every one that the Princess had, unfortunately, caught a severe chill on her journey from Vienna, and her medical advisers, although they did not consider it serious, thought, as a precaution, it was best that for a few days she should remain confined to her room.

Meanwhile the Princess, in her silent, stunning, overwhelming sorrow, was wondering how she might call Steinbach. She was unapproachable to any but the Court set, therefore to call a commoner would be an unheard-of breach of etiquette. And yet she desired to see him and obtain his advice. In all that gay, scheming circle about her he was the only person whom she could trust. He was devoted to her service because of the little charitable actions she had rendered him. She knew that he would if necessary lay down his very life in order to serve her, for he was one of the very few who did not misjudge her.

The long day dragged by. She wrote many letters--mostly to her family and friends in Vienna. Then taking a sheet of the royal notepaper from the rack, she again settled herself, after pacing the boudoir in thought for some time, and penned a long letter, which when finished she reread and carefully corrected, afterwards addressing it in German to "His Imperial Majesty the Emperor, Vienna," and sealing it with her own private seal.

"He misjudges me," she said to herself very gravely; "therefore it is only right that I should defend myself."

Then she rang, and in answer to her summons one of the royal footmen appeared.

"I want a special messenger to carry a letter for me to Vienna. Go at once to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and ask the Under-Secretary, Fischer, whether Steinbach may be placed at my service," she commanded.

"Yes, your Imperial Highness," answered the clean-shaven, grave-faced man, who bowed and then withdrew.

Allen soon afterwards brought in little Ignatia to show the doll's perambulator, with which the child was delighted, wheeling it up and down the boudoir. With the little one her mother played for upwards of an hour. The bright little chatterbox caused her to forget the tragedy of her own young life, and Allen's kindly English ways were to her so much more sympathetic than the stiff formalities of her treacherous lady-in-waiting.

The little one in her pretty speeches told her mother of her adventures in the toy-shops of Treysa, where she was, of course, recognised, and where the shopkeepers often presented her little Royal Highness with dolls and games. In the capital the tiny Ignatia was a very important and popular personage everywhere; certainly more popular with the people than the parrot-faced, hard-hearted old King himself.

Presently, while the Crown Princess was carrying her little one pick-a-pack up and down the room, the child crowing with delight at its mother's romping and caresses, there came a loud summons at the door, the rap that announced a visitor, and the same grave-faced manservant opened the long white doors, saying,--

"Your Imperial Highness. Will it please you to receive Herr Steinbach of the Department of Foreign Affairs?"

"Bring Herr Steinbach here," she commanded, and then, kissing the child quickly, dismissed both her and her nurse.

A few moments later the clean-shaven, dark-haired man in sombre black was ushered in, and bending, kissed the Crown Princess's hand with reverent formality.

As soon as they were alone she turned to him, and, taking up the letter, said,--

"I wish you, Steinbach, to travel to Vienna by the express to-night, obtain audience of the Emperor, and hand this to him. Into no other hand must you deliver it, remember. In order to obtain your audience you may say that I have sent you; otherwise you will probably be refused. If there is a reply, you will bring it; if not--well, it does not matter."

The quick-eyed man, bowing again, took the letter, glanced at the superscription, and placing it in the inner pocket of his coat, said,--

"I will carry out your Imperial Highness's directions."

The Princess crossed to the door and opened it in order to satisfy herself that there were no eavesdroppers outside. Then returning to where the man stood, she said in a low voice,--

"I see that you are puzzled by the injury to my face when the papers are saying I have a chill. I met with a slight accident last night." Then in the next breath she asked, "What is the latest phase of this conspiracy against me, Steinbach? Tell me. You need conceal nothing for fear of hurting my feelings."

The man hesitated a moment; then he replied,--

"Well, your Imperial Highness, a great deal of chatter has been circulated regarding Count Leitolf. They now say that, having grown tired of him, you have contrived to have him transferred to Rome."

"Well?"

"They also say that you visited Leitolf while you were in Vienna. And I regret," he added, "that your enemies are now spreading evil reports of you among the people. Certain journalists are being bribed to print articles which contain hints against your Highness's honour."

"This is outrageous!" she cried. "Having ruined me in the eyes of my husband and the King, they now seek to turn the people against me! It is infamous!"

"Exactly. That really seems their intention. They know that your Highness is the most popular person in the whole Kingdom, and they intend that your popularity shall wane."

"And I am helpless, Steinbach, utterly helpless," she cried in desperation. "I have no friend except yourself."

The man sighed, for he was full of sympathy for the beautiful but unjustly-treated woman, whose brave heart he knew was broken. He was aware of the love-story of long ago between the Count and herself, but he knew her too well to believe any of those scandalous tales concerning her. He knew well how, from the very first days of her married life, she had been compelled to endure sneers, insult, and libellous report.

The King and Queen themselves had been so harsh and unbending that she had always held aloof from them. Her every action, either in private or in public, they criticised adversely. She even wore her tiaras, her jewels, and her decorations in a manner with which they found fault; and whatever dress she a.s.sumed at the various functions, the sharp-tongued old Queen, merely in order to annoy her, would declare that she looked absolutely hideous. And all this to a bride of twenty-one, and one of the most beautiful girls in Europe!

All, from the King himself down to the veriest palace lackey, had apparently united to crush her, to break her spirit, and drive her to despair.

"I hope, as I declared when we last met, Princess, that I shall ever remain your friend," said the humble employe of the Foreign Ministry.

"I only wish that I could serve you to some good purpose--I mean, to do something that might increase your happiness. Forgive me, your Highness, for saying so."

"The only way to give me happiness, Steinbach, is to give me freedom,"

she said sadly, as though speaking to herself. "Freedom--ah, how I long for it! How I long to escape from this accursed palace, and live as the people live! I tell you," she added in a low, half-whisper, her pale, disfigured face a.s.suming a deadly earnest look--"I tell you that sometimes I feel--well, I feel that I can't endure it much longer, and that I'm slowly being driven insane."

He started at her words, and looked her straight in the face. Should he tell her the truth of an amazing discovery he had made only on the previous day; or was it really kinder to her to hold his tongue?

His very heart bled for her. To her influence he owed all--everything.

No; he could not tell her of that new and dastardly plot against her--at least not yet. Surely it was not yet matured! When he returned from Vienna would be quite time enough to warn her against her increased peril. Now that Leitolf had left her, life might perhaps be a trifle more happy; therefore why should he, of all men, arouse her suspicions and cause her increased anxiety?

Steinbach was a cautious man; his chief fault perhaps was his over-cautiousness. In this affair he might well have spoken frankly; yet his desire always was to avoid hurting the feelings of the woman with whom he so deeply sympathised--the Imperial Princess, to whom he acted as humble, devoted, and secret friend.

"You must not allow such fears to take possession of you," he urged.

"Do not heed what is said regarding you. Remember only that your own conscience is clear, even though your life is, alas, a martyrdom! Let them see that you are heedless and defiant, and ere long they will grow tired of their efforts, and you will a.s.sume a power at Court far greater than hitherto."

"Ah no--never!" she sighed. "They are all against me--all. If they do not crush me by force, they will do so by subterfuge," declared the unhappy woman. "But," she added quickly with an effort, "do not let us speak of it further. I can only thank you for telling me the truth. Go to-night to Vienna, and if there is a reply, bring it to me immediately.

And stay--what can I do to give you recompense? You have no decoration! I will write at once a recommendation for you for the cross of St. Michael, and whenever you wear it you will, I hope, remember the grateful woman who conferred it upon you."

"I thank your Highness most truly," he said. "I have coveted the high honour for many years, and I can in turn only rea.s.sure you that any mission you may entrust to me will always be carried out in secret and faithfully."

"Then adieu, Steinbach," she said, dismissing him. "_Bon voyage_, and a quick return from Vienna--my own dear Vienna, where once I was so very happy."

The man in black bent low and again kissed the back of the soft white hand, then, backing out of the door, bowed again and withdrew.

When Henriette came that evening to change her dress the woman said in French,--

"I ask your Imperial Highness's pardon, but the Prince, who returned half an hour ago, commanded me to say that he would dine with you this evening, and that there would be three men guests."

"Guests!" she cried. "But the Prince must be mad! How can I receive guests in this state, Henriette?"

"I explained that your Imperial Highness was not in a fit state to dine in public," said the maid quietly; "but the Prince replied that he commanded it."

What fresh insult had her husband in store for her? Did he wish to exhibit her poor bruised face publicly before her friends? It was monstrous!

Yet he had commanded; therefore she allowed Henriette to brush her fair hair and dress her in a black net dinner-gown, one that she often wore when dining in the privacy of her own apartments. Henriette cleverly contrived, by the aid of powder and a few touches of make-up, to half conceal her mistress's disfiguration; therefore at eight o'clock the Princess Claire entered the fine white-and-gold reception-room, lit by its hundreds of small electric lamps, and there found her husband in uniform, speaking earnestly with three elderly and rather distinguished-looking men in plain evening dress.

Turning, he smiled at her as though nothing had occurred between them, and then introduced his friends by name; but of their names she took no notice. They were strangers, and to her quite uninteresting.