Part 6 (1/2)
In a penetrating voice, which could not fail to reach the ears of those in the room adjoining hers, or the ears of the actors in the scene below, she adjured her daughter in English. This language was safest, she considered, as the desperado with the rucksacks could not understand and resent her criticism, while the flower of Rhaetian chivalry next door would comprehend both the words and the necessity for action.
”Mary!” she shrieked, loyally remembering in her excitement the part she was playing. ”Mary, where did you pick up that alarming-looking ruffian? I believe he intends to keep your rucksacks. Is there no man-servant about the place whom Frau Johann can call to her a.s.sistance?”
All four of the actors glanced up, aware for the first time of an audience. Had the Grand d.u.c.h.ess been less near-sighted, less agitated, she might have been surprised at the varying yet vivid expressions of the faces. But she saw only that the tall, dark-faced peasant, who had so glared at poor Frau Johann, was throwing off his burdens with sudden haste and roughness.
”I do hope he hasn't stolen anything,” said the Grand d.u.c.h.ess. ”Better not let him go until you have looked into your rucksacks. That silver drinking-cup you _would_ take up----”
She paused, not so much in obedience to Sylvia's quick reply, as in amazement at Frau Johann's renewed antics. Was it possible that the landlady understood more English than her guests supposed, and feared lest the man with the bare knees--perhaps equally well-informed--might seek immediate revenge? Those bare knees alone were evidence against his character in the eyes of the Grand d.u.c.h.ess. They imparted a brazen, desperate air; and a man who cultivated so long a s.p.a.ce between stockings and trousers might easily be capable of any crime.
”Oh, mother, you are very much mistaken. This excellent young man is a great friend of mine, and has saved my life,” Sylvia was protesting; and her words began at length to penetrate the ears of the Grand d.u.c.h.ess. Overwhelmed by their full import, she suffered a sudden revulsion of feeling, which caused her to catch at the window-curtains for support.
”Saved your life!” she echoed. ”Then you have been in danger. Thank heaven, the young man is not likely to know English, or I should not soon forgive myself. Here is my purse. Give it to him, and come indoors at once. You really look ready to faint.”
So speaking, she s.n.a.t.c.hed from a table close by her purse, containing ten or twelve pounds in Rhaetian money; but before she could accomplish her dramatic purpose, flinging the guerdon literally at the misjudged hero's feet, Sylvia prevented her with an imploring gesture.
”He will take no reward for what he has done save our thanks, and those I give him now, for the second time,” cried the girl. She then turned to the man, and made him a present of her hand, over which he bowed with the air of a courtier rather than the rough manner of a peasant. The Grand d.u.c.h.ess still hoped that the Emperor might be at the window, as really it was a pretty sight, and presented a pleasing phase of Sylvia's character.
She eagerly awaited her daughter's approach, and having lingered to watch with impatience the rather ceremonious parting, she hastened to the door of the sitting-room to welcome the travellers as they came upstairs.
”My darling, who do you think was listening and looking from the window next ours?” she breathlessly inquired, when she had embraced her recovered treasure for the secret of the adjoining room was too great to keep. ”You can't guess? I'm surprised at that, since you are not ignorant of a certain person's nearness. Why, who but the Emperor himself?”
”Then he must have an astral body--a _Doppelganger_,” said Sylvia, ”since he has been with me all day, and that was he to whom you offered your purse.”
The Grand d.u.c.h.ess sat down; not so much because she desired to a.s.sume the sitting position as because she experienced a sudden weakening of the knees. For a moment she was unable to speculate: but a poignant thought pa.s.sed through her brain. ”Heavens! what have I done? And it may be that one day he will become my son-in-law.”
Meanwhile, Frau Johann--a strangely subdued Frau Johann--had droopingly followed the chamois-hunter into the house.
”My friend, you must learn not to lose your head,” said he, when she had timidly joined him in the otherwise deserted hall.
”Oh, but Your Majesty--”
”How many times must I remind you that His Majesty remains in Salzbruck or some other of his residences when I am at Heiligengelt?
If you cannot remember, I must look for chamois elsewhere than on the Weisshorn.”
”I will not forget again, Your--I mean, I will do my best. Yet never before have I been so tried. To see your n.o.ble and high-born shoulders loaded down as if--as if you had been but a common _Gepacktrager_ instead of----”
”A chamois-hunter? Don't distress yourself my friend. I have had a very good day's sport.”
”It has given me a weakness of the heart, Your--sir. How can I again order myself civilly to those ladies, who----”
”Who have afforded peasant Max a few amusing hours. Be more civil than ever, for my sake, friend. And, by the way, do you happen to know the names of the ladies? That one of them is Miss Collison, I have heard; but the others----”
”They are mother and daughter, sir. The elder, who spoke, in her ignorance, such treasonable things from the window, is called by the Miss Collinson 'Lady de Courcy'. The younger--the beautiful one--is also a miss; and I think her name is Mary. They talk together in English, and though I know few words of that language, I have heard 'London' mentioned not once, but many times between them. Besides, it is painted in big black letters on their boxes.”
”You did not expect them here?”
”Oh, no, sir. Had any one written at this season, when I am honoured by your presence, I should have answered that we were full, or the house closed--or any excuse which occurred to me. But no strangers have ever remained in Heiligengelt, or arrived, so late; and I was taken unawares when my son Alois drove them up last night. They are here but for a few days, on their way to Salzbruck, and so home, the pretty Miss de Courcy said; and I thought----”
”You did quite right, Frau Johann. Has my messenger come with letters?”
”Yes, Your--yes, sir; just now also a telegram was brought up by another messenger, who came in a great hurry, and has but lately gone.” The chamois-hunter shrugged his shoulders and gave vent to an impatient sigh. ”It is too much to expect that I should be left in peace for a single day, even here,” he muttered as he moved toward the stairs.