Part 11 (1/2)
Already many such had been arranged, apparently without giving rise to gossip; and if the flirtation (which was to disgust Maximilian with his Chancellor's matrimonial projects) did not progress with startling rapidity, it would not be the fault of an accommodating hostess.
”Otto has been bidden to use his eyes and ears at my house, and now he is called upon to hand in his report,” she said to herself, when her guest had departed on his errand of compa.s.sion. But, for once at least in his career, the ”Chancellor's Jackal” was wronged by unjust suspicions. He arrived at Markstein ignorant of his brother's motive in sending, though he did not for an instant believe it to be the one alleged.
The Chancellor was in his dark, octagonal study, reading a budget of letters, when Otto was announced. If he were ill, he did not show his suffering. His square face, with its beetling brows, its domelike forehead, was graven with no deeper lines, looked no more like a mask of carved mahogany, than usual.
”Sit down,” he said gruffly, flinging aside an envelope postmarked Abruzzia. ”I shall be ready to talk with you in a minute.”
Otto took the least uncomfortable chair in the Room--which was saying but little in its favour, as the newest article of furniture there had been made a hundred years before the world understood the luxury of lounging. Over the high mantel hung a silver s.h.i.+eld, so brightly polished as to perform the office of a mirror. From where Otto sat, rigid and upright, he could see himself vignetted in reflection. He admired his complexion, which was like a girl's; pointed the ends of his fair moustache with nervous cigarette-stained fingers and wondered ruefully which of his pleasant peccadilloes had buzzed to Eberhard's ears. Half unconsciously his gaze turned from his own agreeable image to the outer page of the letter, held in a hand so veined that it resembled a surface of rock covered with the sprawling roots of old trees. Otto had just time to recognize the writing as that of the Crown Prince of Abruzzia, whom he had met, when a pair of keen eyes, curtained with wrinkled lids, peered over the crested sheet of paper.
”It's coming,” thought Otto. ”What can the old curmudgeon have found out?”
But, to his surprise, the Chancellor's first words had no connection with him or his misdeeds.
”So Maximilian is amusing himself at Lynarberg?” the old man grunted.
Otto's face visibly brightened. He was not clever or full of resources, and he would always prefer discussing the affairs of others with this elder brother, rather than his own. ”Oh, yes,” he answered alertly. ”His Majesty seems to be amusing himself uncommonly well. But you, Eberhard! Tell me of yourself. You sent for me. Your gout----”
”The devil run away with my gout!”
Otto started. ”I devoutly wish he would, so he left you behind,” he retorted--meaning exactly the opposite, as he usually did when talking with the Chancellor. ”But----”
”Don't tell me you supposed I had sent for you that I might have the pleasure of your condolences?”
”No-o,” laughed Otto. ”I fancied there was another reason; but I am bound in common politeness to take your sincerity for granted until you undeceive me.”
”Hang common politeness!” remarked the old bear--or as nearly in those words as the Rhaetian language permitted. ”I sent for you to tell me what mischief that witch-hawk Malvine von Lynar is hatching. You are on the spot. You should see everything. It will not be the worse for you if for once you have used those handsome eyes of yours to some advantage!”
Otto was genuinely astonished, as during the long drive he had been carefully bracing himself against a personal attack. He sat pulling his moustache, and was still trying to remember some striking incident with which to adorn his narrative, when the Chancellor began again.
”Has Maximilian been playing the fool at Lynarberg these last two days?”
”Fool is a strong word to use in connection with one's sovereign,”
smiled Otto, recovering his presence of mind. ”But if by playing the fool you mean falling in love, why, then, brother, I should say he had done little else during those two days you mention.”
”Iron Heart” growled out a word which he would certainly not have uttered in his Royal master's presence, especially in the connection he suggested. ”Give me a detailed account of what has been going on, from beginning to end,” he commanded.
Otto looked thoughtful. This, then, explained the sudden summons. He was to be let off easily; but, his suspense relieved, he was not ready to be satisfied with purely negative blessings.
”It seems a little like telling tales out of school, doesn't it?” he gently objected.
”Schoolboys with empty pockets do that sometimes,” sneered the Chancellor. ”But perhaps your pockets are not empty--eh?”
”They are in a chronic state of emptiness!” groaned Otto.
”On the fifteenth day of October your quarterly allowance will be paid,” said ”Iron Heart.” ”I would increase the instalment by the amount of five thousand gulden, if you took pains to--humour any whim of mine.”
”I am always delighted to please you,” answered Otto, with alacrity.
”It is only natural, living the monotonous life you do, when not busy with affairs of state, that you should care to hear what goes on in the world outside; and I will gladly do my best as a _raconteur_.”
”Don't lie,” said the Chancellor. ”The habit is growing on you. You lie to yourself; presently you will _believe_ yourself, and then all hope for your soul will be over. I want to know how far Maximilian has gone in his infatuation for this English girl. I am not afraid to speak plainly to you, and you can safely do the same with me. The woman Von Lynar attempted to draw me, as she would have expressed it, on this subject, and, by Heaven, I'm ashamed to say that she succeeded. She suggested an entanglement; I replied that Maximilian was not the man to rouse a hornet-nest of gossip round the ears of a woman who had saved his life. No matter what his inclination might be, he would pay her no repeated visits at the Hohenburgerhof. This thrust the Von Lynar Parried--as if repeating a mere rumour--by remarking that she understood the girl was to stay at the house of some one among the Emperor's friends. I attached little importance to her chatter, believing it but a spiteful slap such as it is the tiger-cat's pleasure to deal those she hates. For once in her life, though, she has stolen a march upon me. The secret was only kept until too late for me to prevent the Emperor from fulfilling his engagement; then I don't doubt she was all eagerness that I should hear of her success.”