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 cuira.s.siers, 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 pa.s.sed 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 the princess. That was her secret.
All things come to an end, even diplomatic receptions. Soon the guests began to leave.
Said the princess to Maurice: "Your invitation is a standing one, Monsieur. To our friends there are no formalities. Good night; ah, yes, the English fashion," extending her hand, which Maurice barely touched.
"Good night, Monsieur," to Beauvais, with one of those nods which wither as effectually as frost.
The Colonel bent gracefully.
"Decidedly the Colonel is not in high favor tonight," thought Maurice; "a fact which is eminently satisfactory to me. Ah; he looks as if he had something to say to me. Let us wait."
"Monsieur, have you any other engagement this evening?" asked Beauvais, swinging his pelisse over both shoulders. "If not, my rooms are quite handy. I have capital cigars and cognacs. Will you do me the honor? I should like to have you regale me with some Vienna gossip; it is so long since I was there."
"Thanks," said Maurice. "I shall be happy to smoke your cigars and drink your cognacs." He was in the mood for any adventure, comic or serious.
He had an idea what the Colonel wanted to say to him, and he was not unwilling to listen. Besides, he had no fear; he now wore an amulet close to his heart.
"Come, then," said Beauvais, gaily; and the two made off. "It is a wonderful game of chess, this world of ours."
"Yes," said Maurice, "we do keep moving."
"And every now and then one or the other of us steps out into the dark."
"So we do." Maurice glanced from the corner of his eye and calculated his chances in a physical contest with the Colonel. The soldier was taller and broader, but it was possible for him to make good this deficiency with quickness. But, above all, where and under what circ.u.mstances had he met this man before?
"Here we are!" cried the Colonel, presently.
He led Maurice into one of the handsome dwellings which faced the palace confines from the east. They pa.s.sed up the stairs into a large room, Oriental in its appointments, and evidently the living room. The walls were hung with the paraphernalia of a soldier, together with portraits of opera singers, horses and celebrities of all cla.s.ses. On the mantel Maurice saw, among other things, the glint of a revolver barrel. He thought nothing of it then. It occurred to him as singular, however, that the room was free from central obstruction. Had the Colonel expected to meet him at the archbishop's and antic.i.p.ated his acceptance of a possible invitation?
Two chairs stood on either side of the grate. Between them was an octagon on which were cigars, gla.s.ses and two cognac bottles. The Colonel's valet came in and lit the tapers in the chandelier and woke up the fire.... Maurice was convinced that the Colonel had arranged the room thus for his especial benefit, and he regretted his eagerness for adventure.
"Francois," said Beauvais, throwing his shako and pelisse on the lounge and motioning to Maurice to do likewise, "let no one disturb us."
The valet bowed and noiselessly retired. The two men sat down without speaking. Beauvais pa.s.sed the cigars. Maurice selected one, lit it, and blew rings at the Chinese mandarin which leered down at him from the mantel.
Several minutes marched into the past.
"Maurice Carewe," said the Colonel, as one who mused.
"It is very droll," said Maurice.
"I can not say that it strikes me as droll, though I am not deficient in the sense of humor."
"'Twould be a pity if you were; you would miss so much. Through humor philosophy reaches its culmination; humor is the foundation upon which the palace of reason erects itself. The two are inseparable."
"How came you to be mixed up in this affair, which is no concern of yours?"
"That question is respectfully referred to Madame the d.u.c.h.ess. I was thrown into it, head foremost, bound hand and foot. It was a clever stroke, though eventually it will embarra.s.s her."
"You may give me the certificates," said Beauvais.
Maurice contemplated him serenely. "Impossible," with a fillip at the end of his cigar.
"You refuse?" coldly.
"I do not refuse. Simply, I haven't got them."
"What!" The Colonel half sprang from his chair.
His astonishment was genuine; Maurice saw that it was, and he reflected.
Madame nor Fitzgerald had been dishonest with him.
"No. Some one has forestalled me."
"Are you lying to me?" menacingly.
"And if I were?" coolly.
Beauvais measured his antagonist, his eyes hard and contemptuous.
"I repeat," said Maurice, "the situation is exceedingly droll. I am not afraid of you, not a bit. I am not a man to be intimidated. You might have inferred as much by my willingness to accompany you here. I am alone with you."
"It is true that you are alone with me," in a voice, which, though it did not alarm Maurice, caused him to rest less comfortably in his chair.
"In the first place, you know too much."