<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</SPAN></span></p>
<h2 class="p4">CHAPTER II</h2>
<p class="pch"><span class="smcap">Captain Basil Jennico’s Memoir continued</span></p>
<p><span class="smcap">There</span> is very little more to tell. The new inn
wherein I found János established was but a poor
place in a poor village, a sort of summer resort
abandoned in winter-time save by its own wretched
inhabitants. The private chamber allotted to me—it
was the only one—was bitter cold, but my
choice lay between that and the common room
below, full of evil smells and reeking boors and
stifling stove heat.</p>
<p>But I was in no mood to reck of bodily inconvenience.
My further action had to be determined
upon; and, torn two ways between anger and longing,
I passed the evening and the greater part of
the night in futile battle with myself.</p>
<p>At length I resolved upon a plan which brought
some calm into my soul, and with it a creeping
ray of hope.</p>
<p>I would lay my case before the Princess herself.
She had been ever kindly in her dealings towards
me. I had no reason to imagine but that she was<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</SPAN></span>
well disposed in my favour; she had had no part
in her maid of honour’s double dealings with me:
I would pray her to speak to the wayward being
on my behalf, to place before her her duty towards
the husband she had herself chosen.</p>
<p>Thus next morning, as clearly, temperately, and
respectfully as might be, I indited my letter, sealed
it upon each fold with the Jennico coat-of-arms,
and, after deliberation, despatched János with it.
The fellow had, according to my orders, purchased
fresh horses, and cut a better figure than the yesterday’s,
when he set off upon his errand. Duly
and minutely instructed, he was to present himself
at another gate of the palace, and I trusted
that, making good use of the purse with which he
was supplied, his mission might be more successfully
accomplished than had been mine.</p>
<p>And indeed, so far as he was concerned, this
was the case. He came back sooner than I had
supposed it possible, to inform me that, having
been able to say he was not from Budissin, he had
been received with civility, and permitted to wait
at the guard-house of the north entrance while my
letter was carried to the palace. After a short
time, the messenger who had taken charge of it
had returned, demanded and carefully noted my
name, qualities, and exact whereabouts, and bidden<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</SPAN></span>
him go back to his master with the assurance that
the Princess would send her answer.</p>
<p>I waited, tramping the short breadth of my miserable
room like a caged wolf, anxiously peering
every other minute through the rain-stained window
which overlooked the high road.</p>
<p>Reason seemed to offer but one conclusion concerning
the result of the last appeal: she would
come back to me. My offence—bad as it had
been, unmanly towards the woman who had lain
in my arms, unworthy of a gentleman towards the
lady whom he had resolved to acknowledge as his
wife—my offence was not one that so true a penitence
might not amply atone for. That was what
reason said. But, as often as confidence began to
rise in my heart, an instinctive dread overcame it, an
unaccountable, ominous misgiving that the happiness
I had once held in my hand and so perversely
cast from me was never to be mine again. And, as
the hours slowly fell away, the dread became more
poignant, and the effort to hope more futile.</p>
<p>János had returned with his message about noon.
It must have been at least five o’clock (for the
world outside was wrapped in murky shadow) when
there came a sound on the road that made my
heart leap: a clatter of horses’ hoofs and the rumbling
of a coach. I threw open my window and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</SPAN></span>
thrust out my head. How vividly the impression
comes back on me now!—the cold rain upon my
throbbing temples, the blinding light of joy that
filled my brain as I strained my eyes to distinguish
in the dusk the nature of the vehicle which announced
its approach with such important noise.
It was a carriage, guarded by an escort of dragoons,
who rode by the door, musket on thigh. An escort!
It must be the Princess herself: the Princess come
in person, the noble and gentle lady, to bring me
back my wife, my love!</p>
<p>Fool! Fool! Fool thrice told! for my vainglorious
self-conceit, my loving, yearning heart!</p>
<p>My spirits bounded at one leap to their old important,
arrogant level. I threw a hasty glance in
the mirror to note that the pallor of my countenance
and the disorder of my unpowdered hair
were after all not unbecoming. As I dashed along
the narrow wooden passage and down the breakneck
creaking stairs I will not say that in all the
glow of my heart, that had been so cold, there was
not now, in this sudden relief from the iron pressure
of anxiety, a point of anger against the little
truant—a vague determination to establish a certain
balance of account, to inflict some mild penance
upon her as a set-off against the very bitter
one she had imposed on me. A minute ago I<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</SPAN></span>
would have knelt before her and humbled myself
to the very dust: when I reached the door of the
drinking-room I was already pluming myself upon
a resolution to be merciful.</p>
<p>I broke into the room out of the darkness with
my head high, and was at first so dazzled by the
light within, as well as by the reeling triumph in
my brain, that for an instant I could distinguish
nothing.</p>
<p>Then, with a sickening revulsion, with such
rage as may have torn the soul of Lucifer struck
from the heights of heaven to the depths of hell,
I saw the single figure of Captain von Krappitz
standing in the middle of the floor with much
gravity and importance of demeanour. Flattened
against the walls, the boors stood open-mouthed,
all struck with amazement; and the little host
was bowing anxiously to the belaced officer. Two
dragoons guarded the door.</p>
<p>Before even a word was uttered I felt that all
was over for me.</p>
<p>Concentrating my energies, then, to face misfortune
with as brave a front as I might, I halted
before my friend of yesterday, and waited in
silence for him to open proceedings.</p>
<p>He bowed to me with great courtesy, looking
upon me the while with eyes at once compassionate,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</SPAN></span>
curious, and yet respectful, as though upon
one of newly-discovered importance, and said:</p>
<p>“I grieve, sir, to be the bearer of an order which
may cause you displeasure, but I beg you, being a
soldier yourself, to consider me only as the instrument
which does not presume to judge but obeys.
Be pleased to read this—it is addressed to you.”</p>
<p>I took the great sealed envelope with fingers as
cold and heavy as marble, broke it open mechanically,
and read. At first it was without any comprehension
of the words, which were nevertheless
set forth in a very free, flowing hand, but presently,
as the blood rushed in a tide of sudden
anger to my brain, with a quickening and redoubled
intensity of intelligence.</p>
<div class="pbq">
<p class="p1">“The Princess Marie Ottilie of Sachs-Lausitz,” so ran the
precious document, “has received M. de Jennico’s letter concerning
a certain lady.</p>
<p>“M. de Jennico has already been given clearly to understand
that his importunities are distressing.</p>
<p>“As the lady in question is a member of the Princess’s
household, M. de Jennico will not be surprised at the steps
which are now taken to secure her against further persecution.
He is advised to accept the escort of the officer
who carries this letter, and warned that any attempt at resistance,
or any future infringement of the order issued by
command of his Serene Highness, will be visited in the severest
manner.”</p>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</SPAN></span></p>
<p class="p1">In a bloody heat of rage I looked up, ready for
any folly—to strangle the poor courteous little
instrument of a woman’s implacable resentment—to
find death on the bayonets of the hulking sentinels
at the door, and be glad of it, so that I had
shed somebody’s blood for these insults! But,
meeting Captain von Krappitz’s steady glance, I
paused. And in that pause my sense returned.</p>
<p>If love itself be a madness, as they say, what
name shall we give to our wrath against those
that we love! For that minute no poor chained
Bedlamite could have been more dangerously mad
than I. But my British dread of ridicule saved my
life that day, and perhaps that of others besides.</p>
<p>Perhaps also the real pity, the sympathy, that
was stamped on the captain’s honest face had
something to say to calming me. At any rate, I
recovered from my convulsion, and awoke to the
fact that blood was running down my shirt from
where I had clenched my teeth upon my lip.</p>
<p>I must have been a fearsome object to behold,
and I have a good opinion of Captain von Krappitz’s
coolness that he should thus have stood and faced
a man of twice his size and, in such a frenzy, of
probably four times his strength, with never a signal
to his guard or even a step in retreat.</p>
<p>Said this gentleman then, delicately averting his<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</SPAN></span>
eyes from my countenance, so soon as he saw I
had come to my senses:</p>
<p>“If you will glance at this paper you will see
that my orders are stringent, and I shall be greatly
indebted to your courtesy if you will co-operate in
their being carried out in the least unpleasant
manner possible. Indeed, sir,” he added in my
ear hastily and kindly, “resistance would be worse
than useless.”</p>
<p>I glanced at the paper he presented to me,
caught the words: “Order to Captain Freiherr
von Krappitz to convey M. de Jennico beyond the
frontier of Lusatia, at any point he may himself
choose”; caught a further glimpse of such expressions:
“formal warning to M. de Jennico never
to set foot more within the dominions of the Duke
of Lausitz,” “severe penalty,” and so forth. I
glanced, and tossed the paper contemptuously on
the table.</p>
<p>That wife of mine had greater interest at the
Court than she had been wont to pretend, and she
was using it to some purpose. She was mightily
determined that her offending husband should pay
his debt to her pride, to the last stripe of his punishment.</p>
<p>I smiled in the bitterness of my soul. I was
sane enough now, God knows!</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Well, she should have her wish, she should be
persecuted no longer.</p>
<p>“I place myself entirely at your convenience,”
said M. de Krappitz discreetly, adding, however,
the significant remark, “my order gives me twelve
hours.”</p>
<p>He picked up the document as he spoke, folded
it carefully, and placed it in his breast pocket.</p>
<p>“Oh, as for me,” said I, “I ask for no respite.”
(Could I desire to waste a second before shaking
the dust of this cursed country from my feet?)
“The time but to warn my servant and bid him
truss up my portmanteau and saddle the horses.
I understand,” I added, with what, I fear, was a
withering smile, “that you are kind enough to
offer me a seat in your carriage?”</p>
<p>“Ah, my dear sir,” returned the little man, with
an expression of relief, “what a delightful thing it
is to deal with an homme d’esprit!”</p>
<p>And so, in scarce half-an-hour’s time, the triumphal
procession was ready to set forth. I
entered the coach, the Freiherr took his seat behind
me, János, impassive, mounted his horse
between two dragoons, whilst my own mount was
led by a third soldier in the rear. And in this
order we set off at a round pace for the Silesian
frontier, where I begged to be deposited.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>At first my good-tempered and garrulous escort
tried in vain to beguile me into some conversation
upon such abstract subjects as music and poetry.
But his well-meant efforts failed before my hopeless
taciturnity, and it was in silence that we
concluded the transit between Rothenburg and the
border.</p>
<p>As we parted, however, he held out his hand.
“Sans rancune, camarade,” said he.</p>
<p>What could I do but clasp the good-natured little
paw as heartily as I might, and echo, although
most untruly, “Sans rancune”? To the very
throat I was full of rancour for everything belonging
to Lusatia, and I swear the bitterness of it lay
a palpable taste on my tongue.</p>
<p>A free man again, I threw myself upon my
horse, and took the straightest road for my empty
home. János had the wit to speak no word to me,
save a direction now and again as to the proper
way. And we rode like furies through the cold,
wet night.</p>
<p>“Breed a fine stock ...” had said my good
uncle to his heir.</p>
<p>At least, I thought—and the sound of my
laugh rang ghastly even in my own ears—if I
have brought roture into the family, I am not like
now to graft it on the family tree!</p>
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