Arms and the Woman, Harold MacGrath [books you need to read TXT] 📗

Now this pro tem fairy, who was anything but good, as the word goes, made some curious discoveries. It seems that the good fairy had left the lost Princess in the care of one of a foreign race. Having a wife and daughter of his own, he brought the Princess up as his niece, not knowing himself who she really was. She became wise, respected, and beautiful in mind and form. Fate, who governs all fairy stories, first brought the newspaper reporter into the presence of the lost Princess. She was a mere girl then, and was selling lemonade at-at twenty-five cents a glass. She-"

"Jack," came in wondering tones, "for mercy's sake, what are you telling me?"

"Phyllis, can you not look back, perhaps as in a dream, to an old inn, where soldiers and ministers in a hurry and confusion moved to and fro? No; I dare say you were too young. The Princess Hildegarde of Hohenphalia is your sister." I rose and bowed to her respectfully.

"My sister?-the Princess?-I, a Princess? Jack," indignantly, "you are mocking me! It is not fair!"

"Phyllis, as sure as I stand before you, all I have said is true. And now let me be the first to do homage to Your Serene Highness," taking her hand despite her efforts to withdraw it, and kissing it.

"It is unreal! Impossible! Absurd!" she cried.

"Let me repeat the words of the French philosopher, who said, 'As nothing is impossible, let us believe in the absurd,'" said I.

"But why has Uncle Bob kept me in ignorance all these years?" unconvinced.

"Because, as I have said before, he knew nothing till to-day. I have even spoken to the Chancellor, who has promised to aid in recovering your rights."

"And does she know-the Princess Hildegarde? My sister? How strange the word feels on my tongue."

"No; she does not know, but presently she will."

Then Phyllis asked in an altered tone, "And what is all this to you that you thrust this greatness upon me?-a greatness, I assure you, for which I do not care?"

I regarded her vaguely. I saw a precipice at my feet. I could not tell her that in making her a Princess I was making Gretchen free. I could not confess that my motive was purely a selfish one.

"It was a duty," said I, evasively.

"And in what way will it concern the Princess Hildegarde's affairs-and yours?" She was rather merciless.

"Why should it concern any affair of mine?" I asked.

"You love her, and she loves you; may she not abdicate in my favor?"

"And if she should?" with an accent of impatience.

Phyllis grew silent. "Forgive me, Jack!" impulsively. "But all this is scarcely to be believed. And then you say there are no proofs."

"Not in the eyes of the law," I replied; "but nature has written it in your faces." I was wondering why she had not gone into raptures at the prospect of becoming a Princess.

"It is a great honor," she said, after some meditation, "and it is very kind of you. But I care as little for the title as I do for this rose." And she cast away one of Pembroke's roses. It boded ill for my cousin's cause.

Presently we saw the giver of the rose loom up in the doorway. He was smiling as usual.

"It is supper, Jack," he said; "I'm afraid you'll have to go."

"Does he know?" whispered Phyllis as we rose.

"Yes."

She frowned. And as they went away I mused upon the uncertainty of placing valuable things in woman's hands.

The next person I saw was the Chancellor.

"Well?" I interrogated.

"There can be no doubt," he said, "but-" with an expressive shrug.

"Life would run smoother if it had fewer 'buts' and 'its' and 'perhapses.' What you would say," said I, "is that there are no proofs. Certainly they must be somewhere."

"But to find them!" cried he.

"I shall make the effort; the pursuit is interesting."

The expression in his eyes told me that he had formed an opinion in regard to my part. "Ah, these journalists!" as he passed on.

Everything seemed so near and yet so far. Proofs? Where could they be found if Wentworth had them not? If only there had been a trinket, a kerchief, even, with the Hohenphalian crest upon it! I shook my fists in despair. Gretchen was so far away, so far!

I went in search of her. She was still surrounded by men. The women were not as friendly toward her as they might have been. The Prince was standing near. Seeing me approach, his teeth gleamed for an instant.

"Ah," said Gretchen, "here is Herr Winthrop, who is to take me in to supper."

It was cleverly done, I thought. Even the Prince was of the same mind. He appreciated all these phases. As we left them and passed in toward the supper room, I whispered:

"I love you!"


CHAPTER XX

When I whispered these words I expected a gentle pressure from Gretchen's fingers, which rested lightly on my arm. But there was no sign, and I grew troubled. The blue-green eyes sparkled, and the white teeth shone between the red lips. Yet something was lacking.

"Let us go into the conservatory," she said. "It was merely a ruse of mine. I want no supper. I have much to say to you."

Altogether, I had dreamed of a different reception. When I entered the doorway, and she first saw me, it was Gretchen; but now it was distinctly a Princess, a woman of the world, full of those devices which humble and confuse us men.

Somehow we selected, by mutual accord, a seat among the roses. There was a small fountain, and the waters sang in a murmurous music. It seemed too early for words, so we drew our thoughts from the marble and the water. As for me, I looked at, but did not see, the fountain. It was another scene. There was a garden, in which the roses grew in beautiful disorder. The sunbeams straggled through the chestnuts. Near by a wide river moved slowly, and with a certain majesty. There was a man and a woman in the garden. She was culling roses, while the man looked on with admiring eyes.

"Yes," said the Princess, "all that was a pretty dream. Gretchen was a fairy; and now she has gone from your life and mine-forever. My dear friend, it is a prosaic age we live in. Sometimes we forget and dream; but dreams are unreal. Perhaps a flash of it comes back in after days, that is all; and we remember that it was a dream, and nothing more. It is true that God designs us, but the world molds us and fate puts on the finishing touches." She was smiling into my wonder-struck face. "We all have duties to perform while passing. Some of us are born with destinies mapped out by human hands; some of us are free to make life what we will. I am of the first order, and you are of the second. It is as impossible to join the one with the other as it is to make diamonds out of charcoal and water. Between Gretchen and the Princess Hildegarde of Hohenphalia there is as much difference as there is between-what simile shall I use?-the possible and the impossible?"

"Gretchen-" I began.

"Gretchen?" The Princess laughed amusedly. "She is flown. I beg you not to waste a thought on her memory."

Things were going badly for me. I did not understand the mood. It brought to mind the woman poor Hillars had described to me in his rooms that night in London. I saw that I was losing something, so I made what I thought a bold stroke. I took from my pocket a withered rose. I turned it from one hand to the other.

"It appears that when Gretchen gave me this it was as an emblem of her love. Still, I gave her all my heart."

"If that be the emblem of her love, Herr, throw it away; it is not worth the keeping."

"And Gretchen sent me a letter once," I went on.

"Ah, what indiscretion!"

"It began with 'I love you,' and ended with that sentence. I have worn the writing away with my kisses."

"How some men waste their energies!"

"Your Highness," said I, putting the rose back into my pocket, "did Gretchen ever tell you how she fought a duel for me because her life was less to her than mine?"

The Princess Hildegarde's smile stiffened and her eyes closed for the briefest instant.

"Ah, shall I ever forget that night!" said I. "I held her to my heart and kissed her on the lips. I was supremely happy. Your Highness has never known what a thing of joy it is to kiss the one you love. It is one of those things which are denied to people who have their destinies mapped out by human hands."

The Princess opened her fan and hid her lips.

"And do you know," I continued, "when Gretchen went away I had a wonderful dream?"

"A dream? What was it?" The fan was waving to and fro.

"I dreamed that a Princess came in Gretchen's place, and she threw her arms around my neck and kissed me of her own free will."

"And what did she say, Herr?" Certainly the voice was growing more like Gretchen's.

I hesitated. To tell her what the dream Princess had said would undo all I had thus far accomplished, which was too little.

"It will not interest Your Highness," said I.

"Tell me what she said; I command it!" And now I was sure that there was a falter in her voice.

"She said-she said that she loved me."

"Continue."

"And that, as she was a Princess and-and honor bound, it could never be." I had to say it.

"That is it; that is it. It could never be. Gretchen is no more. The Princess who, you say, came to you in a dream was then but a woman-"

"Aye, and such a woman!" I interrupted. "As God hears me, I would give ten years of my life to hold her again in my arms, to kiss her lips, to hear her say that she loved me. But, pardon me, what were you going to say?"

"Your dream Princess was but a woman-ah, well; this is Tuesday; Thursday at noon she will wed the Prince. It is written."

"The devil!" I let slip. I was at the start again.

"Sir, you do him injustice."

"Who?-the Prince?" savagely.

"No; the-the devil!" She had fully recovered, and I had no weapon left.

"Gretchen, did you really ever love me?"

There was no answer.

"No; I do not believe you did. If you had loved me,