Part 14 (1/2)
”By-the-way,” he asked, ”what is Cartoner doing in Warsaw?”
”Cartoner--the Englishman who speaks so many languages? We met him in London,” answered the prince. ”Who is he? Why should he not be here?”
”I will tell you who he is,” answered Kosmaroff, with a sudden light in his eyes. ”He is the man that the English send when they suspect that something is going on which they can turn to good account. He has a trick of finding things out--that man. Such is his reputation, at all events. Paul Deulin is another, and he is here. He is a friend of yours, by-the-way; but he is not dangerous, like Cartoner. There is an American here, too. His instructions are Warsaw and Petersburg. There is either something moving in Russia or else the powers suspect that something may move in Poland before long. These men are here to find out. They must find out nothing from us.”
The prince shrugged his shoulders indifferently. He did not attach much importance to these foreigners.
”Of course,” went on Kosmaroff, ”they are only watchers. But, as Wanda says, some people see more than others. The American, Mangles, who has ladies with him, will report upon events after they have happened. So will Deulin, who is an idler. He never sees that which will give him trouble. He does not write long despatches to the Quai d'Orsay, because he knows that they will not be read there. But Cartoner is different.
There are never any surprises for the English in matters that Cartoner has in hand. He reports on events before they have happened, which is a different story. I merely warn you.”
As he spoke, Kosmaroff rose, glancing at the clock.
”There are no instructions?”
”None,” answered the prince. ”Except the usual one--patience!”
”Ah yes,” replied Kosmaroff, ”we shall be patient.”
He did not seem to think that it might be easier to be patient in this comfortable house than on the sand-hills of the Vistula in the coming winter months.
”But be careful,” he added, addressing Martin more particularly, ”of this man Cartoner. He will not betray, but he will know--you understand.
And no one must know!”
He shook hands with Martin and Wanda and then with the prince.
”You met him in London, you say?” he said to the prince. ”What did you think of him?”
”I thought him--a quiet man.”
”And Wanda?” continued Kosmaroff, lightly, turning to her--”she who sees so much. What did she think of him?”
”I was afraid of him!”
XI
AN AGREEMENT TO DIFFER
The Saxon Gardens are in the heart of Warsaw, and, in London, would be called a park. At certain hours the fas.h.i.+onable world promenades beneath the trees, and at all times there is a thoroughfare across from one quarter of the town to another.
Wanda often sat there in the morning or walked slowly with her father at such times as the doctor's instructions to take exercise were still fresh upon his memory. There are seats beneath the trees, overlooking the green turf and the flowers so dear to the Slavonian soul. Later in the morning these seats are occupied by nurses and children, as in any other park in any other city. But from nine to ten Wanda had the alleys mostly to herself.
The early autumn had already laid its touch upon the trees, and the leaves were brown. The flowers, laboriously tended all through the brief, uncertain summer, had that forlorn look which makes autumn in Northern lat.i.tudes a period of damp depression. Wanda had gone out early, and was sitting at the sunny side of the broad alley that divides the gardens in two from end to end. She was waiting for Martin, who had been called back at the door of the palace and had promised to follow in a few minutes. He had a hundred engagements during the day, a hundred friends among those unfortunate scions of n.o.ble houses who will not wear the Russian uniform, who cannot by the laws of their caste engage in any form of commerce, and must not accept a government office--who are therefore idle, without the natural Southern sloth that enables Italians and Spaniards to do nothing gracefully all day long. Wanda was wiser than Martin. Girls generally are infinitely wiser than young men. But the wisdom ceases to grow later in life, and old men are wiser than old women. Wanda was, in a sense, Martin's adviser, mentor, and friend. She had, as he himself acknowledged, already saved him from dangers into which his natural heedlessness and impetuosity would have led him. As to the discontent in which all Poland was steeped, which led the princes and their friends into many perils, Wanda had been brought up to it, just as some families are brought up to consumption and the antic.i.p.ation of an early death.
In her eminently practical, feminine way of looking at things, Wanda was much more afraid of Martin running into debt than into danger. Debt and impecuniosity would be so inconvenient at this time, when her father daily needed some new comfort, and daily depended for his happiness more and more upon his port wine and that ease which is only to be enjoyed by an easy mind.
Wanda was thinking of these things in the Saski Gardens, and hardly heeded the pa.s.sers-by, though--for the feminine instincts were strong in her--she looked with softer eyes on the children than she did on the Jew who hurried past, with bent back and a bowed head, from the richer quarter of the town to his own mysterious purlieus of the Franoiszkanska. The latter, perhaps, recalled the thoughts of Martin and his heedlessness; the former made her think of--she knew not what.
She was looking towards the colonnade that marks the site of the King of Saxony's palace, when Cartoner came through the archway into the garden.
She recognized him even at this distance, for his walk was unlike that of the nervous, quick-moving Pole or the lurking Jew. It was more like the gait of a Russian; but all the Russians in Warsaw wear a uniform.