BERT34ND 
 
 140 P.- 
 LONG BEACl
 
 CASTLE FOAM; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE HEIR OF MEERSCHAUM. 
 
 A RUSSIAN STORY. 
 
 BY 
 
 H. W. FRENCH, 
 
 VUTHOR OF "ART IN CONNECTICUT," ETC. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS. 
 
 NEW YORK: CHARLES T. DILLINGHAM. 
 l88o.
 
 COPYRIGHT, 
 
 1879, 
 
 BY H. W. FRENCH. 
 
 All Rights Reserved. 
 
 Electrotyped at the Boston Stereotype Foundry, 
 No. 19 Spring Lane.
 
 THE TRIBUTE 
 
 IS FAR TOO TRIVIAL, YET SO MUCH AS FRIENDLY 
 CRITICISM SHALL FIND TO FAVOR IN 
 
 "CASTLE FOAM," is 
 
 PEDICATED TO MY 
 
 2047050
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 IN THE HEART OF HINDOOSTAN, 9 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 THE LION IN HIS LAIR, 14 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 THE TRAIL OF THE SERPENT ACROSS THE TRACK, . . 25 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 A LADY FAIR TO SEE. TAKE CARE! 31 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 PRINCE VICTOR VON MEERSCHAUM, 38 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 AN EMERALD OCEAN, 49 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 THE PEARL THAT- LAY BURIED THERE, 53 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 A CLOUD-SHADOW OVER THE OLD MILL YONDER, . . 65 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 A SUMMER ENDING AT THE MOUTH OF HELL, ... 83 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 THE SERPENT TEMPTED ME, AND I DID EAT, . . . 103 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 THE WORLD SHALL SEE A PRINCESS OVER CASTLE FOAM, 125 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 LEAVES VERSUS FLOWERS, 134 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 THE MISSING LINK, 146
 
 6 CONTENTS. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 INTRODUCTORY, *55 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 AN ECHO FROM DEEP IN A MIRE, . . . . 158 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 SHE WAS NOT PERFECT, *74 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 " WELL DONE ! " l %9 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 MY WIFE, 207 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 MY WIFE (CONTINUED), 219 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 MY HUSBAND, 228 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 THE SILVER CORD is LOOSED, 247 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 MISUNDERSTOOD, 257 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE, 263 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 HEINRICH CHARLOVITZ AND THE BOY VICTOR, . . . 282 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 FREEDOM AND FETTERS, 292 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 POUR LES PAUVRES, 319 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 THE CLOUDS LIFT AS THE DAY DIES, .... 329 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 THE FULL SUN AT EVENTIDE, 342 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 THE MILLS OF THE GODS HAVE DONE GRINDING, . . 350 
 
 PART III. 
 
 THE END, 365
 
 CASTLE FOAM, 
 
 PART I. 
 
 1 For the structure that we raise, 
 Time is with materials filled. 
 Our to-days and yesterdays 
 Are the blocks with which we build."
 
 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 ate 
 
 i 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 IN THE HEART OF HINDOOSTAN. 
 
 "Who helpeth them to right that suffer wrong? 
 Who feedeth the hungry ? 
 The Lord helpeth them that are fallen. 
 As for the way of the ungodly, 
 He turneth it upside down." 
 
 THESE words from the psalter, for the 3Oth day 
 of the month, with morning prayer, were read by 
 the captain to a few of us gathered upon the steamer- 
 deck, one Sunday morning not very long ago. We 
 were thirteen days out from Suez, and that myste- 
 rious coast-line to the north of Bombay clouded the 
 beryl horizon like a Tyrian mist on the water. Des- 
 tiny forced this formula upon my mind as a sort 
 of text, and thereupon Fate began at once to preach 
 a remarkable sermon. 
 
 How ominously some little things, that are destined 
 by and by to become great, fix themselves upon the 
 mind without apparent rhyme or reason ! coming 
 events casting shadows before ! Almost uncon- 
 sciously, and half aloud, I was repeating the refrain, 
 when twilight darkened about us, hiding the nearing 
 hills. A fellow-passenger sprang to a seat beside 
 
 9
 
 IO CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 me on the rail, replying, -"The Book says it; but it 
 seems like mockery, in a land where all the workers 
 of iniquity do flourish." 
 
 It was not till yesterday, as one might say, that I 
 realized what force there was for his skepticism. 
 Yet that there must have been a cause was evident, 
 for he was not that sort of man to whom one looks 
 for far-fetched levity, though a genial, good fellow 
 withal. It is not often that one meets a man whose 
 faults are but dust on a diamond ; he, however, even 
 added to so much perfection all that could have made 
 him more attractive an indefinite mingling of mys- 
 tery. 
 
 We were two of a party of five, all strangers to 
 the others when we left Suez, bound northward, upon 
 landing, to spend the last month of the warm season 
 upon the highland hunting-grounds. This man was, 
 by us all, acknowledged the prodigy of the party a 
 sort of human-deity, we almost thought, though even 
 his nationality was a mystery. But never mind him 
 now ; he must disappear for a long time to come. 
 
 Again those words came back to me ! this time in 
 the heart of Hindoostan. Almost in the center of In- 
 dia, quite in the center religionwise, there is a city ; 
 not so much of a city then as now ; but more or less, 
 we five were waiting there to make ourselves ready 
 for the hunt. The houses were low, very low, and 
 not many of them. The narrow streets were very 
 narrow, and there were no wide ones. They started 
 with nothing, and wound away nowhere. The 
 walls were of sun-baked mud, primitive stucco-work, 
 brown as a russet rind before the March thaw tints it 
 with yc-llow. Copper-skinned Hindoos sat in the door-
 
 IN THE HEART OF HINDOOSTAN. II 
 
 ways those very low doorways. Olive-brown ba- 
 bies were thick in the narrow streets ; and the babies 
 were covered with flies, with no one to brush them 
 off. There were one-and-fifty mosques and temples, 
 low like the houses, with golden domes and marble 
 minarets. And there were hosts of idols there all 
 sorts and sizes of them ; wonderful gods in that mythic 
 triangle ! And where the city ended, upon its east- 
 ern side, and the limitless fields began, there stood 
 the dak bungalow, the Anglo-Indian post-station. 
 And that was Allah-Abad, "City of God," then ! at 
 the confluence of the Ganges and the Jumna, and that 
 mysterious river flowing there invisibly, directly from 
 the throne of Brahma. Since then the English rail- 
 ways have made of it a city of their great god Com- 
 merce ! 
 
 It was cool and right comfortable, lying upon a 
 bamboo divan on the broad veranda of that bunga- 
 low, fanned by a free swinging punka. I had al- 
 most dozed, or slept, for an hour, I hardly know, 
 when roused by the tramp of horses' feet. A stran- 
 ger approached the bungalow. He was almost a 
 giant. He might have been one of the race whom 
 Frey saw from the Pisgah of Hindoo mythology. 
 He rode a royal black Arab, and a servant followed 
 on one hardly less beautiful. He dismounted, and 
 stepped upon the veranda. His dress was that of a 
 Hindoo, and he spoke to his servant as though it 
 were his mother-tongue. But there was that contra- 
 diction in his bearing, which was refined and proud, 
 that unmistakably declared it no more at least than 
 foster-mother. His hair, that fell beneath his turban, 
 was white as snow, and a long white beard reached
 
 12 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 almost to his girdle. Over his shoulder was thrown 
 a long-barreled and highly ornamented gun, and a 
 Damascus blade hung beside him. A dark and inde- 
 pendent eye, and dignified satisfaction in each mo- 
 tion, made an object of self-assurance in the might 
 of his own strength, sufficient to draw me instantly 
 from the drowses of dreamland. I lay and looked 
 at him, till, calling the keeper of the bungalow, he 
 gave an order that I could not understand, and light- 
 ing a cheroot, threw himself upon the divan opposite. 
 Then I took refuge in that blandly confidential ques- 
 tion that is repeated so many thousand times by every 
 American tourist, without the slightest expectation of 
 an affirmative reply. 
 
 " Do you speak English ? " I asked. 
 " Sometimes," said he, in a clear Anglo-Saxon that 
 startled me. 
 
 "You are an Englishman?" I went on, in the ap- 
 proved formula. 
 
 " Not at all," said he. " It is spoken so much in 
 India, of late, that every bestial coolie of Bengal has 
 more or less idea of what it is to speak it." 
 
 "French, or German?" I continued, according to 
 the best and most orderly catechism. 
 
 " Neither," he replied in French ; " but the tongue 
 of either is better than English." 
 
 Dropping into a language that pleased him, I asked 
 if the furnace-heat of India was never annoying. He 
 seemed to enjoy it. In fact, he did enjoy it ; for he 
 almost smiled as he replied with a vigorous " Never ! " 
 and added : 
 
 " Twenty years ago they told me that ten years of 
 this would shrivel even Satan to a cinder ! But, on
 
 IN THE HEART OF HINDOOSTAN. 13 
 
 my oath, he has grown stronger with every English- 
 man arriving." 
 
 He hated the English, there was no doubt of that, 
 and so did I. It was a bond of fellowship, and soon 
 led to another. It transpired that the stranger had 
 long hunted over the plains toward which we were 
 slowly progressing, and readily consented to join our 
 party with his invaluable information. An hour later 
 he set out for Cawnpore, there to secure our needful 
 accoutrements. At sunset we followed him in one of 
 the old-time Hindoo carts, two wheels, no springs, 
 no cushions, drawn by the sacred Maltese bullocks, 
 jogging at a slow dog-trot. 
 
 We rumbled and jolted over the plain. Far away 
 weird figures, like white elves and genii, seemed reel- 
 ing about in the moonlight, in grotesque war-dances. 
 Now and then the silver light flashed on the broad 
 wings of a flamingo, startled from its midnight hiding- 
 place among the marsh-bogs. 
 
 And on the continuance of that hunting-trip hangs 
 the tale, be it a sermon or what not, dating backward 
 for its beginning something over half a century, and 
 far away from India, in the new" capital of Russia.
 
 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE LION IN HIS LAIR. 
 
 IT was just as dark a night as one could wish for 
 any kind of villainy. Everything was dark in 
 Russia, and the days of Paul the Reckless were num- 
 bered. No one knew precisely what the number was, 
 for as yet the spoken conspiracies had only singled 
 out the Lord Chief Adjutant, thinking that a draught 
 upon his warm blood would act to jog the elbow of 
 the Tzar, and turn him toward his duty. But they 
 were numbered nevertheless, and, as every one 
 knows, the days in Russia, as well as the nights, 
 were very dark, after Paul I. could have counted his 
 remaining months of life upon his fingers. Many 
 superstitious souls, as the annals show, a-ctually be- 
 lieved that the sun became darkened, and that the 
 moon did not give her light, so dark, so very dark 
 was everything in Russia. 
 
 It was a dismal winter night, as well as dark, and 
 the old man with his scythe, and his hour-glass 
 nearly spent, tottered toward the threshold with 
 "1800" on his well-filled pack. A stripling, noth- 
 ing more or less, a youth in the state of adolescence, 
 walked timidly, yet rather boldly considering the oc- 
 casion, down one of those streets of St. Petersburg that 
 even to-day seem built on purpose for conspirators ;
 
 THE LION IN HIS LAIR. 
 
 they are so full of crooks and turns, with houses 
 standing boldly upon the street and houses set far 
 back from the pavement, houses even built across the 
 street, going up on one side and coming down on the 
 other, and houses guarded by heavy and strong fences. 
 The corners seem too dark for the lamps to light 
 them, the windings too intricate for eyes to watch 
 them. They were very carefully watched, neverthe- 
 less, by a wonderfully organized army of men whom 
 no one knew but their officers, who never knew each 
 other, and rarely knew their officers, and who were 
 themselves as much in danger of shipment to Siberia 
 as any they were watching, being themselves kept 
 carefully under guard. All of this, and much more, 
 to preserve the life and position of one man, and that 
 man an inordinate fool ! 
 
 The young man, referred to above, had not an idea 
 as to where he was going, except that by following 
 certain specific directions he would find a friend of 
 whose assistance he stood much in need. There was 
 no cause for him to suspect or fear that he trod on 
 treacherous ground, for many of the nobility lived on 
 that same street, and the guilty and innocent alike 
 guarded their homes in those dark days, till few 
 went or came anywhere in St. Petersburg after dark, 
 and off the main thoroughfares, who did not do it by 
 the interchange of signs and passwords.. 
 
 Reaching a certain point, the youth stopped sud- 
 denly, and listened. All was still. He crossed the 
 street and listened. He walked slowly until he came 
 to a place where three gates met upon the street, 
 opening into paths leading toward mansions that 
 seemed widely separated. Again he was silent.
 
 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 Then placing his hand on the latch, he rapped with 
 his heel upon a rough slab in the pavement, but 
 only once. Suddenly, as he expected, the latch 
 dropped, the gate opened, and he entered. It 
 swung together, and closed behind him with a sug- 
 gestive click. He followed the path more by the 
 sense of feeling than by sight, through a dark, cold 
 garden, where the pines snapped and the wind 
 sighed, and nothing but shadows were visible. 
 
 While he slowly advances, shivering, down the 
 path, we may do well to look at him. He is eigh- 
 teen, no more than that, straight, tall, and strong. 
 He is a soldier, and has just returned from the cam- 
 paign of the Allies against the French republic. 
 Naturally he seeks promotion. He comes to meet an 
 influential general, under whom he has served, who 
 has promised him a guaranty and recommendation to 
 present to the council. How he has dreamed of, and 
 longed for, and fought for, and waited, anxiously 
 waited for that promotion, only a soldier can appre- 
 ciate. Now it is just before him if he can find the 
 way. It seemed a little doubtful for a time, but sud- 
 denly that peculiar impression of the atmosphere that 
 gives the blind a sensation as true as sight, forced his 
 eyes from the path he had been following, and he 
 found himself almost at odds with the gloomy wall of 
 one of the mansions. He felt with his hand to see if he 
 had kept the path : it was still beneath his feet. He felt 
 of the wall before him. Unmistakably the path ended 
 there. But where was the door? There was no sign 
 of it. It was not impossible, however, that he might 
 still be right. He gave the signal, and was scarcely 
 surprised when, an instant later, a faint glimmer of
 
 THE LION IN HIS LAIR. 1 7 
 
 light shone through a small, round hole, a little to one 
 side of him. Nevertheless, in the momentary embar- 
 rassment he had almost put his mouth to the hole, 
 and inquired, "Is the Count von Kramareff within ?" 
 when he recalled the fact that here he was to present 
 his own card with the card of the man who had in- 
 vited him, concealed in his handkerchief. They were 
 all ready, and went through the little hole an instant 
 later. A clammy, cold hand touched the warm 
 fingers of the young soldier, and caused him to start 
 with fear. 
 
 Then the hole closed up again, and an uncertain 
 sound seemed to indicate that a door was opening. 
 He put out his hand again. There was nothing 
 whatever there this time. He attempted to speak, 
 but the first husky grating of his voice reminded him 
 that he was not to utter a sound, but simply to follow 
 where he should be led. He entered. The door 
 closed behind him, and was barred and bolted; how 
 and by whom, he would have been glad to know, for 
 he began to recall the ugly ways in which arrests 
 were often made, with no questions asked at this end, 
 and Siberia at the other end. Beads of cold perspi- 
 ration trickled down from under his hatband. It was 
 a heavy hat. He took it off. The air that struck his 
 forehead was damp and cold. There was an evil 
 odor about him. He began to tremble slightly, and 
 to wish himself somewhere else. His first impulse 
 was to fly. Then his sleeve was pulled by some one. 
 Should he choke him, whoever he was? He thought 
 so, and had almost made the will a deed, when he 
 determined upon the better part of valor, and followed 
 the invitation to move on. The hall seemed inter- 
 2
 
 x g CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 minable as he slowly walked along behind the faint 
 tapping of the feet of his guide upon the floor ; but 
 it came to an end. The footsteps ceased. He stood 
 still. Three solemn raps sounded. Chilling and 
 blood-curdling ! It was only an Open Sesame ! Sud- 
 denly a dazzling light flashed through an opening 
 door. The young soldier felt a strong arm behind 
 him, but he was blinded by the light. The arm 
 forced him forward. The door closed behind him, 
 and he heard the bolts swing. Was he a prisoner? 
 It was a gorgeous dungeon if he were. The room 
 was furnished in Oriental magnificence. Not a win- 
 dow or another door broke the smooth walls of the 
 large salon ; but Moorish tapestry and Turkish ara- 
 besque left no room for either. Nor had the soldier 
 time to wonder how the fresh air entered the apart- 
 ment there was surely no lack of it or what mys- 
 terious problems there might be behind those costly 
 hangings. Lights flashed in each of a line of crystal 
 chandeliers, delicately wrought by Persian work- 
 men. A fire blazed on a hearth at one end of the 
 salon, its red glow creeping down the room like 
 finger-points of blood, touching the polished black 
 marble statues of Mors upon one side the fireplace, 
 and Pluto on the other, till they seemed dripping 
 with purple gore. Before the fire stood a small 
 marble table, with paper and writing-materials upon 
 it. Beside the table sat a man upon a Turkish otto- 
 man, his feet resting in deep indentations in an In- 
 dian rug. His head lay heavily upon his hand, and 
 white locks straggled through his fingers. With a 
 sigh of true relief the young soldier recognized the 
 influential general, the Count von Kramareff.
 
 THE LION IN HIS LAIR. Ip 
 
 Count von Kramareff, too, was fresh from the bloody 
 fields of the Allies, where he had shared the tent and 
 dangers of the reckless, merciless Suwarrow that 
 fearful leader, who could leap from his bed at mid- 
 night, be drenched with water, and ride naked through 
 his camp in the dead of winter weather, and return to 
 sleep upon the ground, covered only by a rough 
 horse-blanket. Directly after the withdrawal of the 
 Russians from the allied armies, while Suwarrow, 
 driven mad by his defeats, was dying the slow death 
 that a madman dies, his brother general had fallen 
 heir to the estates and the title of the Count von Kra- 
 mareff, and left the army to take a very vigorous part 
 in politics at home. 
 
 The white head by the fire was raised as the door 
 closed, and the young soldier, bowing very low, said, 
 " I am come, my lord, Count von Kramareff." 
 
 " Yes, yes. And you are none too early," said 
 the count, speaking rapidly. " Stand here ! We 
 have to speak with you. A matter of grave impor- 
 tance demands our thoughts to-night." 
 
 The young soldier, blushing and bungling as he 
 went, made his way to the position indicated, and 
 stood like a picket on guard. The count continued : 
 
 " Have you anything to show or offer why I should 
 do this thing for you ? " 
 
 The soldier sjtarted, almost as though he had been 
 shot. 
 
 "No, sire," he gasped. "No, my lord, Count 
 von Kramareff. I told you I had nothing but what 
 you see. But my gratitude shall seek to serve you, 
 sire." 
 
 Then he blushed purple, and fingered the buttons
 
 20 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 upon his coat as though suffocating, and longing for 
 a little looseness about his throat. 
 
 "You talk well," said the count, without looking 
 up again ; " we shall soon see how much you mean 
 by it. Look here ! " He laid his hand heavily upon 
 a sheet of paper upon which he had been writing, 
 and his face had a worn, weary look, in spite of the 
 excitement flashing in his eyes. " Your letter is 
 ready ; read it, and say if you are satisfied ! " 
 
 The young man tried in vain to read. His eyes 
 were too full of lovely pictures. The words seemed 
 unintelligibly jumbled, like soldiers after a -battle. 
 He knew what the nature of it all must be, and feeling 
 supremely grateful and happy, endeavored in an ex- 
 traordinarily left-handed way to give words to his 
 sentiments as he pretended to have finished reading 
 the letter, without knowing a single sentence of what 
 it contained. 
 
 " Then I will sign it," said the count. He took the 
 paper, and continued speaking while slowly prepar- 
 ing for, and writing his name. And all the while 
 that ominous, gory gleam flashed from the shining 
 sides of Mors and Pluto by the fire. 
 
 " Do you remember," said the count, "where Schil- 
 ler makes Gordon say to Butler, ' Come, friend, be 
 noble-minded. Our own heart, and not other men's 
 opinions, forms our true honor'?" lie did not wait 
 to learn if the soldier really remembered it or not, 
 but continued : " You may have heard that I am of 
 the anti-Olendorff way of thinking in Petersburg." 
 
 "No, sir! No, my lord, Count von Kramareff! " 
 the young man shouted with as much gusto as though 
 he had been denying a murder charge. But the count
 
 THE LION IN HIS LAIR. 21 
 
 did not hear him, if one might judge from the calm 
 way in which he continued : " We lay at the door of 
 the Royal Adjutant Lord Olendorff these grind!ng, 
 frivolous laws that are ruining Russia. He turns our 
 sovereign about as the helmsman his ship. He 
 Ha ! I have blotted the paper ! But here is a copy, 
 quite the same. I will sign this one." He threw the 
 injured sheet upon the floor, carefully wrote his 
 name, pushed it one side to dry, and went on with 
 his discourse. 
 
 w He is an alien ! His Roman Catholicism has 
 brought about the friendship of the Tzar for France ! 
 In fact, it has come to this, that to drive him from life 
 altogether is the only way to free ourselves from his 
 tyranny and our country from his curse. It is the 
 only way to give the bastard son of Catherine and 
 Sottikoff a chance to show if he can be an emperor ! 
 He has suppressed our schools, forbidden the posses- 
 sion of a foreign book, driven away all foreigners but 
 the royal French ; made Russia lie in mire before 
 his throne, while he uses her to clean his boots 
 upon." 
 
 The young man had been wandering away to the 
 land of gilded stripes and gaudy epaulets, and was 
 brought up "all standing," as the good country people 
 say, when the count planted his clinched fist fiercely 
 upon the table, and exclaimed : " The villain must 
 die ! He will leave the council at midnight to-night, 
 and drive down the Prospect to his palace. Four men 
 are now waiting at the eastern end of Admiralty 
 Square. Join them and lead them on to victory ! 
 Here is your letter ! See, I have signed it. Staked 
 my good name to the Tzar as a surety of your being
 
 22 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 a good officer. In return I ask your gratitude to act, 
 not for me, but for your country." From half a blow 
 at the start, the old ex-general's fury had carried 
 him up to a thorough tornado at the close, and now 
 his voice dropped nearly an octave as he added, much 
 more deliberately, "You understand me, and will 
 do it." 
 
 But he was a bit too confident. The thunderbolt 
 found the young man suddenly transformed to a rock, 
 where a gentle "Please, my boy, will you do this ?" 
 would have made him weak as water, and blushing 
 as a rose. 
 
 " What ! " he exclaimed, when the force in its full 
 magnitude became apparent. " Murder the adjutant 
 in cold blood ! become a hired butcher ! a paid man- 
 killer ! No, sire ! No, my lord, Count von Kramareff ! 
 Not, were I therefor to be the Royal Adjutant in his 
 stead ! " 
 
 "A soft answer turneth away wrath ;" but the count, 
 swelling full of authority, the ashes of age like red 
 coals again upon his cheeks, thundered in return, 
 "Young man, Count Kramareff commands it !" 
 
 The fire was started. The wind but fanned the 
 flame. Trembling with the energy of the moment, 
 the youth replied, " And this poor private soldier re- 
 fuses to obey ! " 
 
 " Ha ! " roared the old man, stamping the floor in 
 his fury. "Then get your promotion if you can, op- 
 posed by Kramareff;" and tearing the letter, he threw 
 it on the floor. 
 
 "I will, "cried the boy again, quite beyond his own 
 control, " I will save the life of Olendorff! " 
 
 " You'll die where you are ! " shouted Count Kra-
 
 THE LION IN HIS LAIR. 23 
 
 mareff, at a white heat ; and, grasping his sword, he 
 hurled it over his head to strike the fatal blow. 
 
 Perhaps it was the evil influence of some furious 
 fiend ; more likely the instinct of self-preservation ; 
 like a flash of light his dagger-blade gleamed in the 
 young soldier's hand. An instant a leap a sud- 
 den thrust. The dagger was dripping and red. The 
 sword had fallen behind Count KramarerT. The fire- 
 blood poured in torrents down the black marble sides 
 of the Mors and the Pluto. It was only a moment, a 
 finger-breadth of -time, yet a towering peak in the 
 mountains of life. From a hopeful and promising 
 youth, as the world goes, it made of him a cowardly, 
 cringing murderer. He was hurled over that moun- 
 tain, dragged across that gulf, by the will of an in- 
 exorable destiny. Could he have prevented it? 
 
 A heavy, lifeless "thud," as without a groan the 
 body of the Count von Kramareff struck the floor, 
 marked the short interim, and all was over. 
 
 "What have I done?" groaned the soldier, burying 
 his face in his hands and trembling like an aspen- 
 leaf. " I would not be the hired assassin of my 
 country's foe, but am the murderer of my own best 
 friend ! " 
 
 Again self-preservation took possession of him, and 
 he began to look about for some means of escape. 
 He dared not face the body on the floor. He had 
 looked just near enough to see two horribly staring 
 eyes fixed on him, and a pool of blood collected 
 on the floor. He never saw the face of the Count 
 von Kramareff again except as a ghostly phantom 
 haunting many an hour. 
 
 Not high nor low about that room was there a sign
 
 24. CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 of anything less solid than the walls of Cheops on 
 the Nile. He aimlessly wandered up and down the 
 room, with face averted, in a vain hope of finding 
 some means of escape. 
 
 "Great God! what is that?" he gasped, falling 
 heavily against the tapestry, as the first of three 
 solemn raps sounded upon the great door through 
 which he had entered. As his eye ran helplessly 
 down toward the great door, a sheet of the tapestry 
 intervening surely moved from some cause or other ; 
 it gave the drowning man a straw. With the energy 
 of despair he reached the spot. A secret door ! half 
 open ! The third rap sounded like the click of a 
 muffled gunlock. The great door opened. Whoever 
 entered found the body of the Count von Kramareff 
 lying on his sword alone !
 
 THE TRAIL OF THE SERPENT. 25 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE TRAIL OF THE SERPENT ACROSS THE TRACK. 
 
 FIVE years wended their way off of this little 
 world, with the monotony of the seasons, and 
 sunrise and sunset, and still the guilty or not guilty 
 soldier went in and out of the barracks as before, 
 with his head still fast upon his shoulders, only that 
 now it rested between two epaulets. Only an ugly 
 nightmare kept guard like a sentinel over him, and 
 from long watching with its victim it had grown 
 gray in the service and even more hideous. 
 
 The Royal Adjutant was attacked upon that eventful 
 night, but a screw was loose, for the attack was unsuc- 
 cessful. It was, of course, upon the same night that 
 the Count von Kramareff was carried to his home, 
 mortally wounded. He had just time to give his 
 blessing to his only child, a baby girl, when the old 
 man with the hour-glass called for him, and counted 
 one more in his harvest that was so nearly garnered. 
 
 Both of these events were tolerably startling, and 
 each traveled about the capital as fast as the other. 
 In fact, they went hand-in-hand from mouth to mouth, 
 and the most natural result in the world was, that 
 every one believed, or appeared to believe, that Count 
 von Kramareff had himself attempted the assassina- 
 tion and had been killed by Lord Olendorff. Those
 
 26 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 who knew better dared not deny it. Those who did 
 not know, did not, for mercy's sake, dare to lift the 
 mysterious veil ; and there the whole matter dropped. 
 
 The epaulets, too, were a mystery to the young 
 soldier. Instead of being beheaded, or exiled to Si- 
 beria, he had been promoted, step by step, in marvel- 
 ously quick succession. The assassination of the 
 Tzar himself, which occurred on the night of the 
 23d of March following the murder, had given 
 him an opportunity to hold a ready sword, which 
 had been referred to at each promotion, as though it 
 had been something much greater than it really was. 
 Still he was forever looking for the block upon which 
 he was to stumble. 
 
 Under Paul's eldest son, Alexander, Russia through- 
 out saw better times. Among other reliefs, the offi- 
 cers were allowed to attend late dinners, which free- 
 dom they indulged in to a degree that seemed likely 
 to make up for any past neglect. The murderer of the 
 Count von KramarefF he called himself, to himself, 
 even in his sleep, a murderer had returned to his 
 room late one night from one of these dinners. His 
 servant brought in a card, informing him that the 
 gentleman had been waiting three hours and wanted 
 to speak with him. 
 
 "It is late," said the officer gruffly, vainly en- 
 deavoring to recall the owner of the name on the 
 card, and trembling withal, as it had become his 
 second nature to tremble at everything at all out of 
 the common course. "I am tired," he continued. 
 " See what he wants to say, and bring me word. 
 Now go ! " 
 
 The servant had no more than turned to obey,
 
 THE TRAIL OF THE SERPENT. 2>J 
 
 when the man himself appeared. He was a small, 
 well-favored, smiling and bowing specimen of hu- 
 manity, nothing at all to tremble before, and his 
 apology was simple enough. 
 
 " The servant did not er did not deliver the 
 message as a well-regulated servant should. I er 
 I feared he would not, so I came myself; for I 
 said that I would see the officer, not speak." 
 
 "Possible!" said the soldier, with a little of scorn 
 that he was sorry for afterward. " I do not remem- 
 ber to have met " 
 
 "Do not mention it," interrupted the stranger. 
 "You do not recognize me do not recognize. In 
 fact, I did not suppose you would ; " and he hung his 
 hands by his thumbs in the pockets of his pantaloons, 
 and his head well upon one side, and his eyes half 
 closed themselves. It was a queer, indefinable ex- 
 pression that would seem to indicate that he knew 
 something worth knowing, or meant more than he 
 said, or was withal more of a man or more of a fool 
 than one took him to be. 
 
 The soldier was at a loss whether to tremble or be 
 angry, but adding a little of both to his reply, he 
 said, " A fool to wait for three hours to see a man 
 you never met. What is your business?" 
 
 "H'm," observed the stranger. "So I've offendfcd 
 you already. Who said I'd never met you? Who 
 did, lied. I have met you often, and know you well ; 
 and knowing you, know you have something to be 
 thankful to me for." 
 
 There was little time for the soldier to reflect upon 
 the situation. He must evidently either be horribly 
 frightened or thoroughly angry with this man. He
 
 2 8 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 chose the latter for outward appearance, but a guilty 
 conscience planted the former in his heart. 
 
 "I thankful ! and to you ! " he exclaimed, throwing 
 his cap impatiently into the corner. "Well, come; 
 here is a rouble and my thanks, and there the door. 
 Now go 1 " 
 
 " I will go in two minutes" the stranger said, hold- 
 ing up two fingers emphatically. " I will go to the 
 door, and you will call me back again." He leaned 
 over the table, eying the young officer. "The night 
 was dark. The hall was black ; but when (he rapped 
 three times on the table) sounded, the door opened 
 into a room that was dazzlingly bright." He waited 
 a moment, like a cat watching a mouse she has bitten 
 and thrown away ; then, blandly smiling, said, " My 
 two minutes are expended, and I go," and turned 
 toward the door. 
 
 There was all the tragedy he could have desired 
 in the effect of his little drama. The officer was 
 wilted like a flower in a furnace, and had almost let 
 the stranger go, when, summoning a little breath, he 
 called after him : " Stay, sir, stay ! How did you 
 know?" 
 
 The little man turned back again, as smiling and 
 bowing as when he first entered, observing, "I 
 thought you would." He seated himself again and 
 went on : "I led you in. I let you out. You thought 
 you got out by yourself; but it would have been im- 
 possible had I not unbolted the door at the end of the 
 secret passage before you reached it, and unlocked 
 the gate before you found it." 
 
 " Thanks," muttered the officer. His voice was 
 spiced, however, with much more of irony than grat- 
 itude.
 
 THE TRAIL, OF THE SERPENT. 29 
 
 "Never mind," replied the little man. "It was er 
 yes, something else that I referred to." 
 
 "What?" The hot-blooded young officer was 
 wonderfully subdued at last. 
 
 " H'm. I'll tell you. I found the paper there, torn 
 up and wet with blood, that made all the trouble. I 
 found another quite the same, with only a blot of 
 ink. I said to myself, ' One good turn will have an- 
 other,' and sent it to the council. You were pro- 
 moted ; and all that you are at this moment, more 
 than a mass of bones in the criminals' acre, or a 
 frozen ghost in Siberia, you owe to me, yes." 
 
 This was a lie. But the young soldier, with child- 
 like credulity, replied, "Sir, you astound me ! " 
 
 "Very like I do," responded the other, carelessly. 
 "And now if you think me worthy anything more 
 than a rouble and a door, I am ready for my reward." 
 
 " Sir, you are welcome. Ask what you will." 
 
 The little man leaned over the table and said Si 
 few words in a low tone. The soldier started back. 
 
 " Would you drive me to a new murder to cover up 
 the last?" 
 
 "H'm. Your mind runs to murders," said the 
 stranger. " Over the door below I saw, as I entered, 
 that er true victors conquer with the er the 
 er what is it?" 
 
 "'True victors conquer with the brain, not sword !'" 
 
 " Exactly so, sir ; exactly so. And now you begin 
 to comprehend me, sir begin to comprehend." 
 
 He leaned over the table again and talked rapidly 
 for a moment, then rising, said slowly : 
 
 " I think we understand each other now. I ask the 
 favor in return for favors given. But, by the gods I if
 
 OQ CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 you betray me, I'll come like a torch at midnight, and 
 write your secret with fire in the heavens, where all 
 the world can see." Then he closed the door behind 
 him, leaving the soldier with nothing to do but to 
 obey; while he restlessly walked and walked the 
 streets of the capital, surely not so well satisfied as 
 might have been supposed. 
 
 He paused for a moment before the statue of Peter 
 the Great, at the eastern end of Admiralty Square, 
 poised on the great ragged memorial pedestal. 
 
 He raised his hand, and was about to swear by the 
 gray-blue mass, gray-blue in the dawning, when 
 one of those heavy-armed Russian home soldiers, 
 that stood like bristling thorns over St. Petersburg, 
 gave that warning word, " Move on ! " and withdraw- 
 ing his arm, he moved on, hanging his hands by his 
 thumbs in the pockets of his pantaloons, and his head 
 well upon one side, while his eyes half closed them- 
 selves. As he moved, he muttered, "Yes, yes; it is 
 the blind horse that minds the bit, because he must." 
 
 Following upon this, there was little of interest for 
 several years. Alexander gave freedom within, and 
 made wars without, and so kept peace. In 1806 and 
 1807 he marched his armies unsuccessfully against 
 the French, and in 1814 successfully into Paris, fol- 
 lowing the famous retreat from Moscow, and again 
 at Waterloo. 
 
 In such seasons of public excitement, private ex- 
 istence is submerged ; but there came a lull for some 
 years before the quiet death of Alexander in 1825, 
 and in that lull, private life burst into a luxuriant 
 bloom again.
 
 A LADY FAIR TO SEE. 31 
 
 CHAPTER IV. * 
 
 A LADY FAIR TO SEE. TAKE CARE! 
 
 EIGHTEEN hundred and twenty-one ! For twen- 
 ty years the mansion of the Kramareffs has 
 lain in mourning. The little girl is upon the very 
 verge of being a woman, and is very beautiful. Few 
 know it, however, for a gloom hangs over the man- 
 sion, and its mistresses never go out of it except to 
 drive. Suddenly the house appears in an uproar. 
 The sound of the hammer, the voices of workmen, 
 the odors of fresh oil and varnish, all testify that 
 something new is taking place in the somber, silent 
 halls. 
 
 How it all happened, Elise, the life-nurse of the 
 countess's daughter, knew, and reported in the ser- 
 vants' hall. She was the one who held the child to 
 receive the blessing of the dying count, twenty years 
 before. Who had a better right to know the secrets 
 of the countess's daughter than the old nurse Elise? 
 She was in her lady's dressing-room. Perhaps her 
 lady did not know it. The countess and her daugh- 
 ter were in the next room, talking eagerly together, 
 and the door was open between them just a crack. 
 It might have been closed, had not the wind blown it, 
 or Elise pushed it. And there she stood and listened. 
 Was it wrong?
 
 32 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 " Fie ! on such plebeian nonsense ! " said the state- 
 ly, white-haired personage bearing the proud name 
 of Von Kramareff. And Elise wondered what the 
 plebeian nonsense was, and so did the rest of the ser- 
 vants when she told them. " You will not marry the 
 man I select ; you will not choose from those who ask 
 for you, good, bad, and indifferent, I grant you ; and 
 what then will you do ? for you must marry ; " and 
 the white head bobbed up and down inside, and 
 Elise's head bobbed up and down outside, as she 
 watched her and echoed, " There 's truth there, lady." 
 But the countess went on : "You are our only child, 
 and when the noble count, your father, lay on his 
 death-couch, you were brought to his pillow." Here 
 the countess wiped the chronic tear from her eye 
 the left eye and right-hand corner, that by law and 
 mechanism had never failed in twenty years to 
 moisten that expression. And here, with an extra 
 bob of her head, Elise observed, "There's truth in 
 that, lady, for I did it." And the countess continued : 
 " He gave you his blessing as though you were a 
 son. 'In your veins alone, my little one,' said he, 
 'will flow the proud blood of the Kramareffs. Honor 
 it as it should be honored.' " And the countess's white 
 head and the nurse's began their bobbing again. 
 
 "Yes, mamma," exclaimed the young woman, sob- 
 bing in a way that was not at all chronic, " and I will 
 not dishonor it by marrying one of the louts that 
 come bargaining with you for my money, and with 
 not a thought of me. 'Love your wife like your 
 heart, beat her like your shuba,' is too common now- 
 adays. I do not like it. I will honor the man I mar- 
 ry, or "
 
 A LADY FAIR TO SEK. 33 
 
 "Child, beware of oaths!" exclaimed the coun- 
 tess, putting a stop to that at once. And even the 
 nurse's head outside the door had stopped its bobbing 
 and begun wagging in a warning, woe-begone way. 
 " There are many men in Russia," the countess con- 
 tinued, " who would not die for wealth." 
 
 " Hosts of them, mamma ; but they are the ones 
 that are not ready to die for me, either." 
 
 "I can call proud names," said the mother, "I have 
 refused to please your fastidiousness. Tell me, how 
 long do you think the offers will last? " Elise began 
 to twist about, keeping with difficulty one eye and one 
 ear to the crack. She wanted to sneeze, if the truth 
 were told. But the duelists within seemed to have 
 locked swords, for the countess's daughter only re- 
 plied, with a little hysterical laugh, " Longer than 
 necessary. And proud of what? their good looks, 
 or their bad hearts, I warrant you. No ; I will love 
 the man I marry, and be loved by him." 
 
 "But you are in no position, child, to carry out such 
 a doctrine, pleasant as the words may sound ; for love is 
 rare in our society, except that born of marriage. But 
 the house of Kramareff must have an heir by you." 
 
 "And shall his father be our cousin, Major Wol- 
 zonn, mamma? No other man has asked for me who 
 could inspire my soul with a first breath of love." 
 
 "Ah, child, the bitterest of enemies are two ill-mated 
 friends." 
 
 "Well, who then shall I marry, mamma?" 
 
 " Tell me, rather, who will you marry? " 
 
 That was as long as Elise could wait. She almost 
 flew from the crack of the door, and only half across 
 the room sneezed once, twice, three times, into her 
 3
 
 34 
 
 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 dress and petticoats folded four or five double. It was 
 the critical moment. Elise would have given half her 
 wardrobe just then for a wooden nose. Elise's nose 
 was always giving her trouble in that way. Excite- 
 ment acted upon it like pungent snuff. Poor Elise ! 
 it was the very best feature in a tolerably homely face. 
 She hurried back to the crack the moment her nose 
 had come into position again ; but the crisis was over ; 
 she only heard the countess say : 
 
 "You are aiming high, my daughter. Beware that 
 you do not miss the mark, and fall lower than you 
 think for it." 
 
 The first official announcement of anything out of 
 the common course came in the news that the man- 
 sion was to go through repairs from turret to founda- 
 tion. This was followed by one more startling : that 
 the repaired mansion was to be the scene of a grand 
 old-time banquet. 
 
 The countess said " A ball ! " with as much solem- 
 nity as she would have said "A funeral." The count- 
 ess's daughter, in an uncertain sort of amazement, 
 repeated the command "A ball!" The long-faced 
 house-servants, who, through years of solemn train- 
 ing, had learned to tread the halls on tiptoe, speak in 
 a whisper, and never smile outside their own domain, 
 stupidly stared and said, "A ball!" The gloomy 
 walls, that for years had echoed to every sound noth- 
 ing but " dead ! " now hoarsely grated to " A ball ! " 
 The crape that hung about a large oil-painting of the 
 count in the main hall seemed to shiver, as though 
 one everlasting chill were creeping round and round 
 the frame, and in its shivering to say, "A ball?" 
 
 Throughout the capital there was more or less
 
 A LADY FAIR TO SEE. 35 
 
 wonder and speculation as to what had caused, and 
 what would result from this coming-out of the Kra- 
 marefFs. Many halfway friends took it upon them- 
 selves to become interested. 
 
 As for this daughter, whom the count had left to 
 honor his name and house, and who found so much 
 vexation in the course of it, much might be said or 
 little. She possessed her mother's queenly bearing 
 in beautiful simplicity. Unlike most Russian ladies, 
 she was an exquisite blonde. Her hair, in waving 
 masses, was like the purest sunlight; her cheeks 
 were transparent, just tinged with the rose-flush of 
 life's early summer-time; her eyes alone were dark, 
 and such eyes as could burn and wither what they 
 chose they were her father's eyes. But for the al- 
 most impenetrable seclusion to which she had easily 
 accustomed herself, knowing no other life, she must 
 long ago have been able to choose, from a multitude, 
 one whom she might love and by whom be loved, 
 and the part which she played afterward have been 
 taken by some other, or not have been played at all, 
 which might have been far better might have been 
 worse. 
 
 Such, at least, so far as concerns this story, was 
 the Countess von KramarefFs daughter. What her 
 hopes and expectations, founded in the coming ball, 
 might be, no soul beside her mother knew. Possibly 
 nurse Elise had noticed a sudden change in her 
 charge, when a note was .presented from the private 
 secretary of the Prince von Meerschaum, regretting 
 that an early trip to Poland rendered the attendance 
 of his Highness impossible. 
 
 The banquet went on for all that, however, and
 
 36 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 was pronounced by all a grand success. Even 
 Arachne, before Minerva made a spider of her, could 
 not have woven a robe that would have made the 
 daughter more beautiful ; nor could a mask from Vul- 
 can's forge have concealed more thoroughly than did 
 a dazzling smile, any random regrets that were cut- 
 ting and piercing the heart. 
 
 At first, simply to carry out some vague revenge 
 which she had planned, yet hardly anything pro- 
 found enough to be called revenge, she petted the 
 smiles and encouraged the lavish attention of an ex- 
 quisite stranger. He had been introduced by a high 
 government official. " It is all for a jest," she said to 
 herself. But this was the first she had seen of the 
 world ; and it was far easier than she thought to go 
 from jest to earnest, as one might say, in such a 
 thing as that. "And really," she said again, "he 
 must be one of the most brilliant, gentle, bold, and 
 loving men to be found in the wide world. HE could 
 not be more so, and yet " She checked herself 
 there, for after all, when she thought of "HIM," there 
 was a twinge of anger, born of love, that caused her 
 to wonder if after all " he " might not be something 
 even more. 
 
 So much for the random considerations of a young 
 woman, over-young, though two-and-twenty, in com- 
 paring the first man she had ever spoken with, 
 except as her mother sat by her side in a parlor or 
 coach, with another man, whose voice she had never 
 heard, and whom she had never seen but as he rode 
 of an afternoon on the popular Prospect. 
 
 Albrecht von Bremen was this exquisite little stran- 
 ger's name ; a sort of mortal Vulcan he. My lady's
 
 A LADY FAIR TO SEE. 37 
 
 first conclusion was not very far from right. He was 
 from Denmark. His tongue was his sledge, his lips 
 his forge. Twenty-six letters the metal that he used, 
 and in the use of it he wrought some very remark- 
 able things. His figure, though small, was powerful 
 and graceful. He had thick, curling hair, dark, 
 drooping, somewhat uncertain and treacherous eyes, 
 a waving moustache, white hands, and round, dim- 
 pled fingers that might have belonged to a cherub, 
 and might, after all, have paddled in many a muddy 
 stream. She crossed swords with him, leaving her- 
 self unguarded, and at the very outset the world of 
 freedom and romance proved too much for her. She 
 had even told him that they should spend much of the 
 summer at Geneva, and had smiled when he replied 
 that he should be there too. Yet the Dane was for- 
 ever becoming a Russian, and doubling or trebling 
 in size ; and from one to the other her thoughts would 
 vacillate till she seemed to love both and neither ; 
 then one, and then the other ; and ended by wonder- 
 ing what love was, and if anybody loved, and how 
 they loved and for how long. There were many les- 
 sons she had yet to learn. Life is a thorough school- 
 master, and teaches much before he has done with his 
 task; the truth, for instance, of the old Spanish prov- 
 erb, afterward adopted by Shakspeare, that "all that 
 glitters is not gold ; " that man must be taken one half 
 the time, at least, to mean what he does not say, and 
 that too often 
 
 "Love 'mid names of noble worth 
 Is but a noble myth, 
 That lives and dies on futile hopes 
 And fertile disappointments."
 
 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 PRINCE VICTOR VON MEERSCHAUM. 
 
 THE trip to Poland upon which the Prince von 
 Meerschaum had excused himself, was not alto- 
 gether a myth, nor altogether true. He was one of 
 those men who for personal worth, landed estates, and 
 sounding title was courted, and nattered, and petted, 
 till even the sight of a mortal betokened an insipid 
 admirer, and consequently became a burden. 
 
 Long ago, in the early days of Peter the Great, 
 when incognito he was playing the blacksmith, the 
 ship-builder, the house-carpenter, &c., in Austria and 
 Germany, he became intensely pleased with a noble- 
 man's son, of high rank but very poor of purse, and 
 offered to make him rich if he would come to Russia. 
 This youth was Victor Reppoun. He followed Peter 
 the Great, and married a princess of the blood. Peter 
 allowed him to retain his Christian name if he should 
 choose another for the princedom, and after adding 
 to the wealth of the princess as a marriage gift a 
 fabulous sum, he made the princedom perpetual to 
 the heirs of Victor Reppoun, under the title of the 
 "Prince von Meerschaum." Various good services 
 rendered by descendants to later Tzars upon the 
 throne, had been rewarded by princely donations in 
 the shape of estates and gold, till the wealth of the
 
 PRINCE VICTOR VON MEERSCHAUM. 39 
 
 present owner, who also possessed the Christian 
 name of the first prince, Victor Reppoun, was une- 
 qualed in all Russia, excepting only by the crown 
 and crown royalty. 
 
 By some peculiar fortune or forethought, there had 
 also been but one heir in each generation, as the 
 years came down, so that the estates had been undi- 
 vided, and the present Victor Reppoun, a man as 
 perfect morally, intellectually, and physically as could 
 w r ell be, was almost monarch of all he surveyed. He 
 acknowledged but few friends, but these were inti- 
 mate, warmly loved, always welcome. 
 
 Four of these friends Major Wolzonn was one of 
 them riding down the Gorokhovia, the gayest street 
 of Russia's gay capital, toward the Champs-de-Mars, 
 one morning about a week before the Countess von 
 Kramareff's banquet, chancing to speak of the Prince 
 von Meerschaum, voted on acclamation to take coffee 
 with him at his Castle Foam. Constantine Wolzonn, 
 alone of the four, was undemonstrative. He was 
 always undemonstrative, for that matter. He was a 
 strong and handsome officer, at least in his uniform 
 and saddle, wearing the heavy braids of the majority 
 on the inevitable square, high shoulders of the Rus- 
 sian. Thick but close-cut whiskers and a heavy 
 moustache altogether covered every expression on 
 his face, except as his eyes, dark, deep-set, and qui- 
 etly active, disclosed his thoughts, as they shielded 
 themselves behind becoming glasses. 
 
 Reaching the long, well-paved ascent, hardly a 
 hill, called Nevskoi Prospect, they put spurs to their 
 horses, and dashed off like the morning wind, past 
 Alexander's Cathedral of Our Lady of Kazan, and
 
 4 o 
 
 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 the Convent of St. Alexander Nevskoi, into the free 
 country. They did not draw the rein, but the horses 
 themselves, covered with foam, slackened speed be- 
 side a portal where they had often entered, just upon 
 the oval of the hill. 
 
 Within, the broad parks were just starting into 
 green emerald green. 
 
 " Here many miles of fertile ground 
 With walks and trees were girded round; 
 And here were gardens, bright with summer rills, 
 
 Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree; 
 And here were forests ancient as the hills, 
 
 Enfolding sunny spots of greenery." 
 
 That description by Coleridge is too perfect to 
 venture another in its place. 
 
 Now the riders were lost in the deep shadow of a 
 pine grove. Now they rode on the shores of a lake 
 wild as the Lago di Garda, and emerging again from 
 a shadow, they were suddenly brought face to face 
 with the massive battlements of a great white castle, 
 Castle Foam ! resti-ng in all its glory amid the sunny 
 greenery. Whether it won its name from the view, 
 from its towers, of the far-off sea, or from the white 
 sandstone of which those towers were built, " Meer- 
 schaum " (sea-foam) was the only name they could 
 have called it. From the German blood in their veins 
 the sound pleased them well, and they called it " Meer- 
 schaum." Say the word where you would, from any 
 angle of the castle, and a silvern echo would whis- 
 per " sea-foam " in your ears. 
 
 Brightly dressed stable-boys took their horses, and 
 the riders entered the castle together. 
 
 Castle Foam was built in the form of the Greek
 
 PRINCE VICTOR VON MEERSCHAUM. 4! 
 
 cross, with two broad halls from end to end, and over 
 each of the four great doors were illuminated windows 
 recalling some scene in Russia's history. The walls 
 throughout the halls were well covered with paint- 
 ings. The master of the house himself possessed a 
 rare ability in the art. A few of his own productions, 
 and the skillful arrangement of many others, bore 
 ample testimony to this. The floors were of rich 
 mosaic in all the designs of Italy, Egypt, Greece, and 
 India, supporting everywhere the most rare and ex- 
 quisite bijouterie, marbles, and all the choice miner- 
 als, wrought by hands that had touched the hem of 
 King Solomon's purple, that had pushed the wheels 
 of Asoka's chariot, held flowing bowls at Nebuchad- 
 nezzar's banquets, or tossed an ugly coin to blind 
 Homer, led by his daughter about the gates of Thebes. 
 The smoking-room, into which the four were ush- 
 ered, where, with wine and cigarettes, to await the 
 prince, was luxurious in the extreme. There were 
 soft-cushioned divans perfumed with Oriental odors, a 
 marble floor and frescoed walls. A black marble 
 Garamha from beside the fountain in the great Eden 
 about the Taj Mahal, and a white marble Bacchus, 
 guarded appropriately cigarettes and decanters in 
 elaborate cases at their feet. 
 
 The prince was engaged at the moment with another 
 caller in his private library. See ! A very picture of 
 manhood he ! tall, athletic, of graceful figure, with thick 
 curling hair, only a moustache, high forehead, and 
 firm but laughing eyes. He is nine-and-twenty or 
 thereabout, but with that peculiar maturity and in- 
 tegrity in his large eyes and determined mouth that 
 one may sometimes find, but rarely this side of the
 
 42 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 ideal, and when found, one finds invariably an 
 honorable and a handsome man. Such was Victor 
 Reppoun, the Prince von Meerschaum. His friends, 
 combining the two titles, knew him better as simply 
 the Prince Reppoun. 
 
 His guest is small. He too is handsome, and with 
 curling hair, a waving moustache, and peculiar eyes. 
 But what a difference ! Pluto and Apollo ! Scarcely 
 less. After a peculiar and unreasonably elongated 
 introduction, in which the prince had vainly endeav- 
 ored to solve what manner of man he was, he cut the 
 knot by remarking abruptly, "You said you had 
 business with me. What is it?" 
 
 The stranger planted one foot forward, as if to 
 brace himself for a grand effort, and said, very 
 slowly, " I knew the prince, your father, my lord." 
 And he hung his hands by his thumbs in the pockets 
 of his pantaloons, and his head well upon one side, 
 and his eyes half closed themselves. 
 
 It was evident that the stranger had proposed a 
 tragedy, but seeing no cause for any, the prince re- 
 plied, not without some signs of bewilderment, " One 
 is always welcome coming in my honored father's 
 name. Be seated, friend, and smoke." 
 
 "Ah ! thanks ! " replied the little man, seating him- 
 self, and leisurely lighting a cigar; and then he 
 rambled off again very much as he had in his in- 
 troduction, into a long, meaningless conversation, 
 scarcely possible to be for any other cause than to 
 hear himself speak, yet carrying withal an intimation 
 of a point somewhere, and only half covered. The 
 prince listened as he would have listened to the bark- 
 ing of some stupidly innocent dog that he could
 
 PRINCE VICTOR VON MEERSCHAUM. 43 
 
 not bring himself to kick into silence, till, throwing 
 away the last of his third cigar, the stranger lit a 
 fresh one, rose, bowed, and had reached the door. 
 Then he turned suddenly to say, "Beg pardon, my 
 lord, beg pardon, I had er yes, I had almost for- 
 gotten a little matter which I came to speak to you 
 about." 
 
 Patience was hardly a virtue any longer, and rising, 
 the prince replied, " Pray, sir, proceed. What is 
 it?" 
 
 " Oh er nothing of great importance ; no ; simply 
 that I er I knew the prince, your father, my 
 lord." 
 
 " So I understood you, sir." 
 
 "Did you? Yes, yes, perhaps you did. But I 
 was going on to say that I knew him to his sorrow. 
 In fact, a little better than the old man " 
 
 " Sir ! " 
 
 " Beg pardon, my lord, beg pardon. Did not mean 
 to ruffle you. Only meant to say that the noble prince, 
 like many other noblemen, once in his life did what 
 he had better have left undone, and that I knew of it. 
 I was not over-wealthy, that is to say, not uncom- 
 fortably so ; so every er yes, every now and then 
 he caused yellow souvenirs of the event to be sent to 
 me. Golden quieters, you know ! " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Well, and well what, my lord? " 
 
 " Well what ! " 
 
 "Oh er yes, I see, do not comprehend me yet, 
 do not comprehend. Then let me be explicit. His 
 Highness thought to cheat me of my income by er 
 well, by dying. But not so think I, for a dutiful son
 
 44 
 
 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 will keep a father's honor just as sacred as his own ; " 
 and within himself he added, " When it is eminently 
 for his own advantage to do so." 
 
 " That honor is too sacred for the traffic of such as 
 you," said the prince in a tone lavish with disgust, 
 yet restrained by the subject of which he spoke. 
 " But did you also think that I should give you money 
 for threats like these ? " 
 
 " Rem acu tctigisti! " exclaimed the little man, 
 slapping the table. "Exactly so, my lord. Exactly 
 so ! Money ! yes, money ! That powerful lever that 
 will move the world will move me too, to silence. A 
 silence, let me add, that for you as well as me would 
 be verily golden." 
 
 " Man, you are a fool ! and if you leave the castle 
 before I am too angry to be patient, your exit will be 
 the easier for it. I have no idea of granting what 
 you ask." 
 
 "Beg pardon, my lord; I do not er ask, I de- 
 mand it ! " 
 
 The unparalleled impudence of some men, "cheek" 
 we call it in this modern day, is a matter of absolutely 
 incomprehensible wonder. Ignorance makes the 
 goose hiss at the lion. But surely such men as this 
 one before us are not ignorant. On the other hand, 
 the forbearance of some men, more especially those, 
 of all, best able to wreak a wholesome vengeance, is 
 equally astonishing. The prince simply answered, 
 scornfully, "I wish T had known your errand when 
 you came. You had better go now." 
 
 "Come, come, my lord," replied the little man, 
 much as if he were urging some moral duty upon a 
 child, " do not grow sarcastic with me just at such a
 
 PRINCE VICTOR VON MEERSCHAUM. 45 
 
 time, for I must live. Mother earth is bound to fur- 
 nish a support for all her offspring, and to each ac- 
 cording to the palate she has given him. Now why 
 should not I live upon what /know, as justly as you 
 live on the results of what your fathers knew, espe- 
 cially as in my case it is supposable that the fathers 
 knew nothing, having left no result but me. Ignoble 
 remnant, am I not? But to continue. Illegitimate 
 sons are not thought so much of in Russia at large as 
 by their fathers. What is that to me? You have 
 relatives in Germany who would reward one well 
 that made vacant for them such an envied princedom ; 
 and I can do it. Do you begin to comprehend, my 
 lord?" 
 
 "Fool ! You intimate that I am not the lawful heir 
 of the house of Meerschaum. It need only be proven, 
 and I will leave the place vacant in an hour." 
 
 " H'm. That is one way. Another is to give me 
 thirty English sovereigns a month. Cassimir, master 
 of the black bark "Midnight," will call for the gold, 
 and thereby my lips are sealed. But mind you, and 
 mind you well : I'll sell my knowledge to you or to 
 one who hates you. I'll serve the best paymaster, 
 and, by my faith, I'll serve him well ! Muzzle not the 
 ox that treadeth out your corn, my lord prince." 
 
 The prince started to his feet, and without waiting 
 for formality or even a bow, the little man was gone. 
 
 Left alone, the prince sat silently pondering for a 
 moment, then rose and laughed at himself. " What 
 a fool I," he exclaimed, "to think for an instant of 
 the haranguing of this distorted Heoredipetoe ! Ille- 
 gitimate? Impossible! My mother had but one child, 
 myself, beside Marie, who was only adopted at the
 
 46 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 best, and has lain for fifteen years and more in the 
 vault of our little church at Schaumburg. If I were 
 not the lawful heir, I'd rather beg my bread than keep 
 a mortal for one day from what is his by right. But 
 if I be the Prince von Meerschaum, and till something 
 more is told than that, I shall surely think I am. Ah ! 
 sneaking blackmailer, 'twill take more than your sil- 
 vern speech to purchase a ruble's worth of silence ! " 
 
 Thereupon, dismissing the subject entirely from his 
 mind, as not worthy a moment's consideration, he 
 sought the smoking-room, where his approach was 
 heralded by two pages in bright uniforms, who threw 
 the great doors open, and knelt, as though his Royal 
 Highness the Tzar were passing in. 
 
 "Welcome, friends of mine !" exclaimed the prince, 
 extending both hands to his guests; "welcome to 
 Castle Foam on this beautiful morning ! " 
 
 " You honor us. We salute your Highness," said 
 Major Wolzonn, with a rather solemn bow. 
 
 " The honor is to me, not you, friend major." 
 
 And the major replied : 
 
 " ' Honor be given where honor is due; 
 You honor us that we honor you.' " 
 
 "Up to your old tricks with other men's words at 
 once," laughed the prince. "But why not, indeed? 
 It is actions, not words, eh? that tell the tale with 
 soldiers. And now, friends, breakfast is waiting. 
 Come out with me to the coffee-room." 
 
 Four marble figures supported a table burdened 
 with delicacies ; and as the five gathered about it, 
 naturally enough a lack, the only one, was made all 
 the more evident by the remaining perfections. One
 
 PRINCE VICTOR VON MEERSCHAUM. 47 
 
 of the guests spoke his mind. " How a lady's form 
 would grace my lord's palace, making heaven of para- 
 dise ! " 
 
 It gave the cue, and another added, " Even Eden 
 pleased neither Maker nor tenant without an Eve." 
 
 "They are a dangerous sisterhood," laughed the 
 prince. " Remember, I pray you, why Adam is not 
 in Eden still." 
 
 " And will my lord resist a temptation to Paris this 
 summer, where the Princess Shehovskoi spends a 
 month? " 
 
 " A great temptation surely ! Into that hotbed of 
 France, to watch a woman whom we see every day, 
 the winter through, on our own beautiful Prospect." 
 
 " Can you devise an excuse as good against Swit- 
 zerland and the daughter of the Countess von Krama- 
 reff ? And, by the by, the banquet ! just a week to- 
 night ! " 
 
 Major Wolzonn's eyes flashed with this last name, 
 in spite of the curving lip and scornful laugh, as the 
 prince responded, "Ah, friends, why chase them? 
 They will all come back of themselves. Vacation 
 should be recreation." 
 
 "And not an opportunity to break one's heart 
 anew," added the major. 
 
 "And is your heart also weary with its breakings, 
 that you understand my case so thoroughly ? " 
 
 The prince laughed heartily over his cup of tea, 
 and possibly the major's cheek flushed a little under 
 his moustache and beard, as he answered dryly, 
 " Somewhat weary." 
 
 Prince Reppoun had hardly given the countess's 
 banquet a thought. Now it suddenly occurred to
 
 48 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 him that his invitation had been such that he must 
 either go or excuse himself. The latter he always 
 did when opportunity offered, and instantly resolved 
 to make an opportunity just here. The result of il 
 was his next remark, as he leaned back from the 
 table. 
 
 "Friend major, I've a resort in my mind far 
 better for such as we than women, France, or Swit- 
 zerland." 
 
 " Look before you leap, my lord," said the officei 
 dryly. 
 
 "Look you, then ! When I was a boy, my fathei 
 turned me loose one summer sent me out to pas- 
 ture on an estate of his in Poland." 
 
 " Suggestive intimation that we go out to pasture 
 too." 
 
 " Nothing less, friend major. I have not beer 
 there since ; but as I remember it, the surrounding:: 
 were richer as hunting-grounds than I have evei 
 found in Russia. I am going to test the truth this 
 summer, starting the day after to-morrow, and I invitt 
 you all to go with me. Will you go?" 
 
 The major's hands had fallen suddenly upon the 
 table with this information, and in his eyes was i 
 blank, vacant stare; a shudder ran over him, anc 
 while all the rest acclaimed their pleasure in accept- 
 ing, he sat like one deaf, dumb, and blind. Yet, if 
 the truth were told, he was more anxious than an} 
 other in that company to go into Poland with the 
 Prince von Meerschaum.
 
 AN EMERALD OCEAN. 49 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 AN EMERALD OCEAN. 
 
 THE major had said, K Confound it ! " and said it 
 strong, when out of sight and sound. He 
 cursed his luck that he was a soldier instead of a 
 nobleman, and was therefore simply allowed to move 
 in society where he could not marry. He cursed 
 the Prince Reppoun and a hundred others, and 
 swore a love as eternal as the everlasting hills. 
 That was the trouble. The soldier was in love ; and 
 love in a soldier is not unlike love in a nobleman, 
 or any man, I fancy. His stripes and epaulets and 
 breastplate of honors are but a pretense, after all. 
 But the great trouble with Major Wolzonn was that 
 he had fallen in love a little above his rank in soci- 
 ety ; a freak one never indulges in, whether success- 
 fully or otherwise, without sadly regretting it in time, 
 in a land where the demarkations of society are so 
 plain as they were in Russia. The object of this af- 
 fection was his cousin, the Countess von KramarefF's 
 daughter. He could not content himself to go away 
 to Poland without making at least one last attempt to 
 win her favor. Last ! For two years past each sep- 
 arate attempt had been his last, until he found an 
 opportunity to make another. Being a relative, he 
 had much more liberty at the Kramareff mansion 
 4
 
 [JO CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 than others enjoyed, and found it easy to secure a 
 moment alone with the lady he loved, or fancied he 
 loved, more than heaven and earth beside. He was 
 older than she by sixteen years, a sort of second 
 father, the mother-countess thought. He chose the 
 time for this "last appeal " when taking his leave for 
 his hunting-trip. The result was so near what he 
 expected that he might have acted it all out in his 
 own room, and saved this "last" till some other time. 
 She put out her little white hand as confidently as to 
 a father, and said, " My true friend, Major Wolzonn, 
 you have always been, and I pray you, oh, so ear- 
 nestly ! ever be my friend. But more than that why 
 will you ask me, when you know it cannot be in jus- 
 tice to our family." It was short and sweet, a 
 pretty speech and comprehensive ; something like a 
 general's speech on a battle-eve, only that here it 
 came after the battle. There was one thing, too, 
 that was not as he expected. She did not sob, or 
 turn her head away. She had always sobbed more 
 or less before, and sometimes turned her head quite 
 away from him. Just now there was a more impor- 
 tant being sitting at the fountain-head, claiming all 
 the tears, and the major half suspected something of 
 the sort. He took the refusal like a soldier, however, 
 grasped the little hand in both of his, and on his 
 knees said, " Then I will try and let this be the last. 
 Hold me a friend, my lady, and by my sword and 
 this fair hand, Theseus shall not be more worthy such 
 a place ! " 
 
 The soldier had conquered the lover, temporarily 
 at least and as the world saw it ; and even his idol 
 lady, who boasted no truer friend, never knew how
 
 AN EMERALD OCEAN. 5 1 
 
 deep were the folds of crape that in a word and a 
 moment she had wound about a human heart; for 
 though they lasted long, they were fast bound under 
 a uniform. 
 
 It was with an over-heavy heart that he rode with 
 the gay company toward their hunting-ground. 
 They had mounted early the last morning, and were 
 very near their destination, as announced by the 
 guide who rode in advance. They followed, single 
 file, down a narrow lane. The rear was brought up 
 by their valets, baggage mules, and the hunter with 
 the hounds. 
 
 Only an hour before, the golden rays of the rising 
 sun had shot across the valley. Like fire-darts they 
 had struck the distant hill-tops, and in an instant the 
 magic touch had wrought a crown of glory there, 
 while the fog-banks sank lower into the valley, and 
 the darkness, driven from the summit, seemed to lie 
 with double blackness down below. Night is forever 
 so reluctant to give place to day ! 
 
 The guide reached the summit in advance, and sat 
 upon the bold peak, with one hand stretched trium- 
 phantly toward the valley beyond. 
 
 " Eureka ! " cried the Prince Reppoun, the first 
 huntsman upon the scene, to the others who urged 
 their horses after him. " Come and look at these wide 
 leagues of emerald floating in the wind, and tell me 
 if such forests are not worth the coming here to see 
 even ! " 
 
 "The will of the wind is than Fancy less fickle.' 
 Wait a week, my lord, and you will hate that solemn, 
 green ocean from sheer satiety." 
 
 K And a few more of those poetical wisdoms of yours
 
 t; 2 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 to dampen our ardor," said the prince to Major Wol- 
 zonn, "I vow, will condemn you in an open court- 
 martial." 
 
 But their hunting and fishing, while camping by 
 the lake, were not altogether satiety. For example, 
 the Prince Reppoun, becoming heated in the chase 
 and separated from the others, stopped his horse for 
 a moment on the banks of a deep gurgling brook. 
 While the animal drank, the master languidly re- 
 peated Shelley's thought of the Serchio. 
 
 " Fervid from its mountain source, 
 Silent, smooth, and strong doth course." 
 
 " Silently " the reins fell from his hand and into the 
 water. He sprang to catch them. The horse started. 
 The soft bank gave way under his feet. With a sud- 
 den lunge he saved himself; but at sight of his rider 
 emerging from the brook's depth dripping with water 
 and mud, he gave a loud whinny of freedom, tossing 
 the mossy earth into the air behind him by way of 
 a farewell, and wheeling about, as disdainfully as 
 Pegasus from the plow, he sprang upward and 
 away. 
 
 The prince laughed, even before he had gained 
 a footing on the bank. There was certainly some- 
 thing absurd in it all ; but the fortunate thing was that 
 the sufferer should see it.
 
 THE PEARL THAT LAY BURIED THERE. 53 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE PEARL THAT LAY BURIED THERE. 
 
 F DRIP very like the bronze from the mausoleum 
 JL of Hadrian that stands in the fountain of the 
 basilica of St. Peter's. With no apparent cause, no 
 source from which the water comes, like him, I still 
 continue dripping," observed the prince, as he worked 
 with sticks and leaves to rid his clothes of mud. His 
 arms ached. It was almost a despairing juncture, 
 when a rustling in the leaves betrayed a young girl 
 rising from a mossy log, not fifteen feet away from 
 him, hidden by the shrubbery. She was surely 
 laughing at his severe maneuvering. It was rather 
 awkward, yet he raised his hat, stammering, " These 
 are most ungraceful circumstances in which to meet 
 a lady." 
 
 " Dear me ! " she exclaimed, " you must not mind 
 me, for I'm hardly nineteen, and only a village girl 
 at that." Smiles chased each other over a pretty, 
 merry face, not at all unrefined, though brown, as 
 she continued, " Only I thought I could do that better 
 than you, perhaps, though I am not so large." Two 
 coal-black eyes wandered slowly upward from his 
 feet, till half askance they rested full upon his own, 
 and sent a quiver of some strange sort down into his 
 heart. She looked up, much as one from a valley
 
 54 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 surveys a snow-capped mountain, and the freshest of 
 rosy lips involuntarily murmured, " What a tremen- 
 dous thing you are, I do declare ! " Then forthwith 
 she began brushing off the mud, despite his protesta- 
 tions. 
 
 For the life of him, the prince could think of noth- 
 ing to say. Silence was more than oppressive ; and 
 at last, in despair, he fairly sprang away from her, 
 exclaiming, " That will do, that will do ; indeed it 
 will, lady ! " She examined him carefully from head 
 to foot, and demurely pronounced her judgment. 
 
 "It is surely better than it was, sire." 
 
 " You must have wandered very far," said he, look- 
 ing at her admiringly. 
 
 " Not so very far," she said. " I've lived for years 
 in the old mill yonder ; and a little down below is the 
 village of Arantha. Were you never there, sire? " 
 
 " I never was, lady." His answer was brief, for he 
 was busy upon a tour of inspection. She was short, 
 and classically delicate, this little waif who had " lived 
 for years in the old mill yonder." Every motion was 
 innately graceful, in spite of the simplest of peas- 
 ants' costume. Rich masses of raven-black hair, 
 only half covered by the Polish sun-hat hanging idly 
 upon her shoulders, fell thick to her waist. In her 
 dark and literally flashing eyes, her thin, straight, 
 Danish nose, her firm but rosy lips, and delicately 
 tapering wrists, hands, and fingers, was a depth of 
 refinement difficult to understand; as strange an 
 anomaly in such a place as would be the sacred lotos 
 of the Nile on the dry breast of the Sahara. Not- 
 withstanding that the prince was champion of Peters-
 
 THE PEARL THAT LAY BURIED THERE. 55 
 
 burg as un cceur glace, the novelty pleased him. 
 Why not ? 
 
 " Have you always lived here, ma petite? " he asked, 
 and to his astonishment, catching the last words of his 
 question, she left the Polish dialect in which they had 
 been speaking, and in perfect French replied : " Oh, 
 no, indeed, sire, not always, though for longer than I 
 can remember." 
 
 A book lay on the log where she had been sitting. 
 He picked it up, and in amazement turned over leaf 
 after leaf of the Divine Comedy of Dante Alighieri, 
 in old Italian. 
 
 "And can you read this too, lady? " he exclaimed. 
 
 "I was reading it, sire, till you disturbed me. But 
 I'm no lady." 
 
 " These are deep thoughts for a young mind," said 
 the prince. 
 
 " Oh, yes, indeed, sire ; and very much too deep 
 forme; but Well, do you know I have actually 
 learned by heart all my books that are easy to under- 
 stand, French and Russian ; and there are only a few 
 of these hard ones left, so I must read them, don't you 
 see? And, of course, it would not grow easier to 
 understand simply because I grew old ; so why not 
 read it now as well as by and by ? " 
 
 " But the book is very valuable as well as hard to 
 read." 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so ; but I had very little to do with 
 that. The giver of the book and the teacher to read 
 it were the same. Good Father Arantha, our priest 
 down yonder." She crossed herself, and whispered, 
 " Holy Mary guard his ashes where they lie under
 
 56 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 the altar ! They changed the name of the village to 
 his when he died, sire." 
 
 " But why is a vile cross like this on a cover owned 
 by a Greek priest, ma petite ? " 
 
 " The cross is not vile ! " she answered sharply. 
 " He was far holier to me than a Greek priest, sire ; 
 he was a Roman Catholic." 
 
 She had been picking leaves from a linden spray 
 and dropping them while she spoke. This time she 
 threw one upon the ground so fiercely, and looked up 
 with such a bold, defiant fire in her black eyes and 
 toss of her raven-black hair, that despite himself the 
 prince could not refrain from smiling, and the very 
 endeavor to refrain made matters so many times the 
 worse. She had a fair share of pride too, for her 
 brown cheeks were purple in an instant, and rising 
 from the log where she had seated herself again, she 
 turned quickly to leave him, exclaiming, " It pleases 
 me that I have been able to amuse you, sire." 
 
 The prince sprang forward, and, fascinated more 
 by this little brown child of the wilderness than ever 
 by gay exotic of his fair home, fell upon his knee, and 
 catching one little brown hand in his, pleaded earnest- 
 ly, "Forgive, forgive me, lady. I wish you well, and 
 your religion, far more truly than you think." 
 
 " Weal or woe for wishing is quite the same to me, 
 sire," she replied, with an independent toss of the 
 little head, as who should say, " The forests are mine, 
 and the trees are bigger than you, sire." 
 
 "But you can forgive me, lady. You surely can 
 be generous enough to grant me that." 
 
 "Perhaps," she said, glancing down upon him with 
 a little laugh in the corners of the merry black eyes.
 
 THE PEARL, THAT LAY BURIED THERE. 57 
 
 " But, indeed, sire, I am no lady, and Please, 
 sire, you hurt my hand." 
 
 Victor Reppoun dropped the tiny palm, and almost 
 a blush swept across his cheek. He rose from his 
 knees, at the same time picking up one of the linden 
 leaves. He offered to walk with her to the mill, as 
 the shadows were growing very long. 
 
 "That's rather odd," she remarked, demurely; 
 "very well for politeness, I suppose. But really, it is 
 I must show you the way, and when we get to the 
 old mill I'll lend you my pony. Have you very far 
 to go?" 
 
 Ah me ! This iceberg from the northern seas had 
 floated very calmly into the gulf stream, and was 
 wasting. It had not once occurred to him that he 
 had no more to do than wind his bugle, when a page 
 would bring his horse. 
 
 " Good Lord ! " he ejaculated, " I had forgotten my- 
 self. Indeed, I do not know how far I have to go, 
 lady. Where is Round Lake, do you know? " 
 
 "The Round Lake? Dear me ! It is such a ways 
 from here that I think you could never walk it in the 
 world. You are a nobleman, are you not, sire?" 
 
 "And can a nobleman do nothing, ma petite?" 
 
 " Some things, I suppose, but not everything, can he ? 
 And if all the little story-books you think I ought to 
 read are true, he is surely not much of a pedestrian, 
 but is always riding in grand coaches. My pony will 
 go the distance for you, though, while you are wink- 
 ing fifty times. Just let him follow the brook on the 
 other side yonder, and if he does not stop before, 
 he'll wind up by dropping you over his head right 
 into the lake. Do you see, sire?"
 
 c; 8 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 " I see, little one, and will hold quits with the brook 
 for the wetting it gave me." 
 
 They came out upon the lake, and in ecstasy he 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " Ah ! lovely spot ! How I should admire to pat 
 you in my sketch-book ! " 
 
 She looked up with that peculiar searching glance 
 which black eyes are apt to possess, a bewitching 
 sort of interrogation, and observed : 
 
 " That's odd ! A nobleman and an artist too, my 
 lord? But it is a pretty place. An Italian artist 
 has been at Arantha for a week, sketching about 
 the mill." 
 
 While she talked she unbound a light canoe. The 
 prince looked doubtfully at the frail bauble, and asked : 
 
 " Shall I not wade, or swim, for short? This ship 
 is scarcely large enough to ferry a fairy." 
 
 "Please, sire," she replied, almost anxiously, "you've 
 had enough of the water for one day, I should think ; 
 or do you like it? Now get in ! " And while the prince 
 seated himself as awkwardly as might well be, she 
 added : " My little boat is not so big as that black 
 horse of yours. What a tremendous thing he was ! 
 But my boat never tipped me into the water, you 
 know, and really I don't believe it could. Big things 
 are not always the best, are they?" she asked, eva- 
 sively. " I mean, some things." 
 
 "You mean my legs," said the prince, no longer try- 
 ing to suppress a laugh, though the canoe shook like 
 a leaf in the wind. " No, they are not always, I 
 admit. Just now they would be much better if a foot 
 or two shorter." 
 
 " That would be rather odd. But be careful ! " As
 
 THE PEARL THAT LAY BURIED THERE. 59 
 
 she stepped into the boat it gave a lurch that seemed 
 to the prince to have nearly overturned it. "The 
 water is cold for a bath is it not, sire?" 
 
 "A little, yes. At all events you had better not 
 take one." 
 
 " Oh, no, indeed, sire, I don't expect to." 
 
 "Sh sh shall I row?" asked Victor Reppoun. 
 
 "Can you?" she replied, doubtfully. 
 
 "Give me the oars, and see," said he, still holding 
 fast with both hands to the sides of the canoe. 
 
 " Oars ! " she cried. " I never had but one one 
 at a time, I mean. That other stick is my push-off 
 pole. But you may try, if you wish to. Here it is." 
 
 Victor Reppoun had no sooner taken the slender 
 oar in his trembling hand than the little craft gave 
 such a lurch that she shipped a thimbleful of water. 
 The prince grasped the sides again, entirely uncon- 
 scious that the one little oar had slipped away from 
 him, and was floating off. 
 
 "Dear me !" sighed the captain, her hand upon her 
 heart, while vindictive smiles were carousing all over 
 her pretty face. " I really thought you were going 
 to do that same thing over again. Did you do it on 
 purpose the first time ? I thought it was an accident. 
 Dear me ! " 
 
 The prince very slowly unwound his 'legs that were 
 coiled painfully under him. She watched him with 
 the utmost attention, her hands quietly crossed in- her 
 lap, her little feet thrust comfortably forward, one 
 resting on the other, and the toe meditatively swing- 
 ing from side to side ; and when he had finished, she 
 added, with another sigh, " Please, sire, we are not 
 going very fast."
 
 60 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 " Oh ! but why where are the " 
 
 "Please, sire, there was but one one at a time, I 
 mean." 
 
 "Well, then, where is the oar?" 
 
 "I gave it to you. You could not have " 
 
 " But I did ; I dropped it overboard." 
 
 " Dear me ! And is that the way a nobleman rows 
 a boat, sire?" 
 
 She turned about, took her seat for a paddle, and, 
 kneeling in the bottom of the boat, began to splash 
 and talk. 
 
 "It's because I'm not big enough for two, sire, 
 that's why ; and I see you are too big for one ; so 
 when I get it again I think I'd better keep it don't 
 you ? And even now I'll hardly get home in time to 
 drive to barn my little cow, and feed my pony. He's 
 not so big as yours, but he does very well for me. 
 He" 
 
 " Stop ! stop ! child ; there is the oar. See ! you 
 have missed it ! " and Victor Reppoun had not dared 
 lift a hand to catch it, though it almost struck the 
 boat. 
 
 " What did you say, sire ? " and a face just rollick- 
 ing with smiles turned over her shoulder she had 
 been kneeling with her back toward him as with 
 scarcely a perceptible motion she caught the tip of 
 the oar in -the tips of her fingers. 
 
 "I said you'd upset us if you don't look out, lady." 
 
 " Oh, so indeed I will in just a minute. I want to 
 get things all ready first, for I'm going to show you 
 what one little oar and one little girl can do. But 
 can't you swim? Don't be afraid, I can, and I'll save 
 you if you tumble in, Now then ! " She seated her-
 
 THE PEARL THAT LAY BURIED THERE. 6 1 
 
 self at last, much to the satisfaction of her passenger. 
 " Take care ! and hold on tight ! " 
 
 "Indeed, lady, I could not hold tighter to save 
 my life." 
 
 And she showed him beyond a doubt. They shot 
 like an arrow, as the little oar in her strong arms 
 bent almost half double. Only a moment it seemed. 
 He had not yet become accustomed to the motion, 
 when a sudden turn of the oar made the speed slacken, 
 and a sudden grating, and a sudden stopping short, 
 threw the proud Prince von Meerschaum flat upon his 
 back. 
 
 "And did you hurt yourself, or did you do it on 
 purpose?" she asked compassionately, and before he 
 could gather himself up to reply, she had pointed him 
 to an arbor where he could wait for her, and hurried 
 away to the old mill yonder. 
 
 He had not waited long when down the narrow 
 path, not skipping like a still outgrown baby, nor 
 yet with the dreamy step of a maiden of much and 
 hard reading, came the fairy of the forest in simple 
 peasant fashion, clasping the hand of 
 
 " Papa, the miller, my lord." 
 
 The old man bowed very low to the prince, looking 
 him over from head to foot. His mental observation 
 was, "A Russian nobleman, and of high rank, I'll be 
 bound. Now, by my soul, this must not be ! Kathi 
 Chichkini," he said, addressing the girl, " run to the 
 house and direct about the work I was overseeing." 
 
 The mental observation of the prince on the same 
 sort of a survey was : " No low-born country soul, 
 this miller of Arantha. He has seen the world, and 
 has the weight of some wickedness on his mind."
 
 62 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 "You are welcome, my lord," said the old man, 
 more courteously, when Kathi Chichkim was well out 
 of sight. " My daughter tells me you were unhorsed, 
 and have five versts to go. You are welcome to her 
 pony, it is a fine riding animal. You may return it 
 in the morning. And pardon me, my lord," he added, 
 as a boy brought a tray of steaming tea, with bread 
 and honey, " when you have eaten of our bread and 
 salt you had best be quickly off, for the road is a 
 faint footpath, and it will be very dark before you 
 reach the Round Lake." 
 
 The prince recalled the fact that the moon was full 
 and high, and would also have discovered the true 
 cause of the miller's anxiety, had he been watching 
 him instead of drinking tea. And now the "pony " 
 was brought, a fiery saddle-horse, full of the fury 
 of the winds, and almost more than the man could 
 manage who led him forward. It required all the 
 skill of the experienced rider to mount; but once 
 mounted, the prince was much more at home than in 
 the little boat upon the lake. The animal reared, 
 lunged, kicked, neighed wildly under the unaccus- 
 tomed burden, giving the rider an abundance of time, 
 before he was finally prepared to listen to argument, 
 to draw a magnificently jewelled dagger from his 
 belt, which he tossed at the feet of the miller, saying, 
 "An earnest, father, that I will return in the morning." 
 
 He looked about him for Kathi Chichkini, a new 
 name that now rang in his ears as persistently as 
 though all the elves of Poland were crying it after 
 him. She was nowhere to be seen. Reluctantly he 
 gave up a wish to say farewell, and turned toward the 
 high gate in the strong wall that guarded the mill from
 
 THE PEARL THAT LAY BURIED THERE. 63 
 
 the wild beasts in fhe winter time. The only half- 
 tamed horse was rearing and prancing along, much 
 to the delight of the prince, who was an admirable 
 horseman, when just upon the other side the gate he 
 discovered Kathi Chichkini sitting on the grass as 
 though nothing, not even a ripple, had crossed the 
 smooth surface of her life's lake. She was feeding a 
 calf from her apron, though it was the very last mo- 
 ments of the twilight, and fully time that any calf 
 were stabled for the night. 
 
 "And what art thou doing here, little one?" he 
 asked, dropping almost unconsciously into the famil- 
 iar "thou" of the Russian. But the court language 
 pleased this small country girl better than Russian. 
 She spoke it with wonderful grace, and in it replied. 
 
 "Among other things," she said, demurely, "I was 
 imagining myself mistress of an immense park, and 
 that this stupid calf was one of my deer ; but he did 
 not play his part well." 
 
 "And what else?" asked the prince. The horse 
 was more quiet now, as though the sight of his mis- 
 tress were a charm. 
 
 "Waiting to see you off," she replied frankly, look- 
 ing up with wide-opened eyes that seemed to the 
 prince almost to wonder why he should have asked 
 such a thing. Acting upon the inclination of the 
 moment, he was about to stop for a little chat, when 
 she added, " But I think you'd better be on the way, 
 sire ; it's almost dark." 
 
 "So it is," said the prince, involuntarily asking 
 himself, " What is it makes each of them so fearful of 
 the other?" for the girl had peeped round the corner 
 of the fence and through the* gate as she spoke.
 
 64 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 " They are not so afraid of the dark, I'll venture. 
 There's the ghost of some secret hidden in the old 
 mill yonder ; " and though he had not the curiosity 
 even granted to the average Russian, which is very 
 little by nature, he added, " I wonder what it is." 
 Then, lifting his hat, he smiled in spite of his mo- 
 mentary vexation at being invited to be on his way, 
 and turned the vicious animal away from Kathi 
 Chichkini. Finding a master on his back, the horse 
 at last started into a furious run. Looking back, the 
 rider waved a farewell salute, and saw a handful of 
 grass, pulled for the calf, waved to him in return. 
 The calf s head bobbed about this way and that after 
 the blades. He saw that, too, and indistinctly heard, 
 " Please, sire, be careful that you don't fall off!"
 
 A CLOUD-SHADOW OVER THE OLD MILL. 65 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A CLOUD-SHADOW OVER THE OLD MILL YONDER. 
 
 KATHI CHICHKINI did not go directly through 
 the gate again, though she had told the strict- 
 est truth that she came out there to see her pony and 
 his rider off. They were gone, and the air was grow- 
 ing chilly with moonlight ; and the calf, more sensible 
 than the mistress, had wandered toward the stable. 
 Still she sat on the grass by the gate in silence and a 
 sort of wonder. A little later, the miller's voice rang 
 loud and strong on the night-air, calling her name. 
 She simply replied that she was coming, and going 
 to the stable, made it fast, shut the great gate, and 
 entered the house. The miller would have given 
 a good bit of silver a whole ruble ! to have 
 known her thoughts; and had she known it, she 
 would not have sold them for many times that. It 
 never occurred to her ; and inadvertently she passed 
 over to him, without charge, all the information that 
 he desired. 
 
 "Are noblemen generally so elegant and fine?" 
 she asked. 
 
 " Noblemen are a set of bloody debauchees ! " he 
 
 said suddenly, and with a vehemence that made the 
 
 girl tremble ; " fine enough on the outside, pretty to 
 
 look at, but devils black devils in the heart ! " 
 
 5
 
 66 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 And he ground his heel into the smooth, polished floor 
 with a determination that seemed to say, " That set- 
 tles it ! " 
 
 The prince fancied he had just such a friend in the 
 gray-haired, gray-eyed old miller. But the wind 
 whistled about his ears, leaves cut his face, breath 
 almost failed him, and soon he abandoned his 
 thoughts of the miller to give his entire attention to 
 that wild pony. It was fortunate he had of himself 
 chosen the right path, for no power could have 
 turned him from it after he once started. He ground 
 the bit between his teeth, and literally flew. 
 
 " How under heaven can such a child ride a horse 
 like this ! " exclaimed the prince, only at intervals 
 catching his breath. " Did the priest Arantha teach 
 her? Pony! yes. Merciful heaven! if one step 
 should fail him." 
 
 Perhaps it was the evident force of this argument, 
 or perhaps the existence of unexpected surroundings, 
 that suddenly brought the pony to a position as mo- 
 tionless as the Pompeian bronzes prancing now in 
 the piazza, on the Bay of Naples. 
 
 When the prince became satisfied that he still sat 
 firmly in the saddle, he glanced about him. Five 
 tents, pointed and white, rose in front. The pony's 
 feet trampled the outer brands of a smouldering 
 camp-fire. The Round Lake sparkled in dimples of 
 white over a smooth black surface just below. The 
 irregular hills were softly outlined against the stars 
 of the summer night. 
 
 " Five versts already ! " said the rider in amaze- 
 ment ; " I should not have thought it one." Then the 
 rapid clatter of other hoofs roused him, and Major
 
 A CLOUD-SHADOW OVER THE OLD MILL. 67 
 
 Wolzonn, the first of the four, rode into the open 
 circle, exclaiming, "Welcome to camp again, my 
 lord ; though you passed us so unceremoniously a 
 moment ago. We were starting on a second system- 
 atic search for you." 
 
 With this remark, having dismounted, he ap- 
 proached the borrowed horse and laid his hand 
 carelessly on the animal's shoulder, then started 
 back, went closer again, walked about it, stopped 
 directly in front, patted its nose, remarked in a quiet 
 way "Aha ! " to which in a moment he added, under 
 his moustache, "I did not suppose Arantha was within 
 fifty versts of here ; " and aloud, when a little calmer, 
 " A noble land you must have found, my lord, to 
 afford a horse like this ; your own returned a hope- 
 less sight, the bridle broken, the tail and mane 
 solid with burrs, like a wild ass of the mountain." 
 
 " Slander away, friend," said the prince, laughing, 
 and throwing himself on the grass by the remnants of the 
 camp-fire ; " but mind you, burrs will brush out, bri- 
 dles will mend, tired horses will rest in a night, and 
 to-morrow I'll match my wild ass of the mountains 
 against any horse in camp except this new one, aye, 
 even Major Wolzonn's." . 
 
 The conveniently uncertain moonlight hid the vari- 
 ous moods and changes plainly expressed in the 
 officer's face, or the prince would have lost his merry 
 mood in wonder. As it was, he lay upon his back, 
 his head on his folded hands, blowing wreaths of 
 smoke into the still air, while fairest Erato formed 
 them into wonderful castles, with strange, romantic 
 love-towers at every angle; and now and then he 
 pressed his hand upon a pocket that contained a
 
 68 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 small journal, in which he had deposited the linden 
 leaf. One by one the circle about the fire decreased, 
 till the soldier and the prince were alone. Major 
 Wolzonn was stroking the head of one of the hounds, 
 and carelessly observed, "A fine horse that, my 
 lord." 
 
 "Eh? Yes h," replied Victor Reppoun, blow- 
 ing one of those long, noncommunicative puffs of 
 smoke upward, "too fine a horse for me." 
 
 The soldier, who was much wider awake, continued 
 more quickly, " Is there a village hereabout, my 
 lord, that can furnish a horse too fine for the Prince 
 von Meerschaum ? " 
 
 This did not sound like Constantine Wolzonn, and 
 Victor Reppoun was on the point of sitting up to see 
 what was the matter, but his own thoughts were too 
 novel and agreeable. Still smoking, he replied, "I 
 borrowed the horse of a of an old man." 
 
 " Of an old man ! Strange thing for an old man 
 hereabout to own. Is he a hermit?" 
 
 "Yes h oh, yes, a hermit, I fancy; that is, I 
 mean, a miller." 
 
 The prince rose, as if struggling with drowsiness, 
 and despairing of any more quiet by the fire, added, 
 " But really he waited to yawn I promised to 
 have the horse back again by noon to-morrow, which 
 I shall not wake up to do unless I go to bed." 
 
 Reluctantly the major yielded to necessity, and rose 
 as the prince left the fire for his tent, then sat down 
 again to stroke the head that in statu quo had been 
 waiting his return. 
 
 " What is the matter with him?" he asked himself.
 
 A CLOUD-SHADOW OVER THE OLD MILL. 69 
 
 "Does he suspect that there is some mystery there? 
 Is it No, no, it cannot be, so soon." 
 
 In spite of this conviction, which should have been 
 sufficient for any man of common sense, the major sat 
 and sat and sat. Then he got up and wandered 
 into the woods, so far that he startled himself lest he 
 had lost the way ; then down on the shore of the lake, 
 tossing pebbles into the water, in vain endeavor to 
 drive away some sort of an ugly nightmare, till the 
 moonlight and the shadows were gone from the 
 water, and the 'hills became more clearly outlined 
 against the sky that was graying with another dawn- 
 ing. 
 
 He found himself near the servants' tents and the 
 tethering-ground of the horses, sitting on a mass of 
 gnarled roots that were thrown out of the ground, 
 watching, as the light grew more certain, the grace- 
 ful, restive horse that already was pawing the ground 
 and neighing his disapproval of these new surround- 
 ings. "He said it was a hermit who lent the horse. 
 Or did I say it? I hate the Prince Reppoun ! " This 
 was as bold as it was uncalled for, and he frightened 
 himself into an instant apology, adding, " I don't know 
 why, unless because every one else admires him, and 
 I am branded by a spirit's brotherhood with Ishmael. 
 Those dark eyes of his see every thing. Have they 
 seen any more than a hermit? Seen any more than 
 a horse ? Or will they ? " 
 
 " Well, well, friend major ! " cried the deep, manly 
 voice of the one whom he hated. "How now? Fares it 
 ill with your health or your conscience, that the last at 
 night and the first in the morning you are wide awake?" 
 
 The major attempted to rise. His overtaxed nerves
 
 yo CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 trembled before this unintended thrust, and he fell 
 back heavily against the tree. But he startled him- 
 self more than the prince, who scarcely seemed to 
 notice it. Then again the major struggled to his feet, 
 and lifting his hat, endeavored to say something about 
 early roll-call and review every morning, and second 
 nature, but made abominably poor work of it. The 
 prince was preoccupied, however, and the major came 
 to the conclusion that those brown eyes that saw every 
 thing had already seen more than a hermit, and more 
 than a horse, and that he had intended an extremely 
 pointed thrust in that unpremeditated good-morning. 
 His mouth was sullenly closed thereafter, till the 
 prince had mounted to return the horse ; then pleading 
 a sudden call to return to the capital, which he credited 
 to official letters that had reached them the day before, 
 he took his immediate portion of the camping furni- 
 ture, and hastily left for St. Petersburg. He traveled 
 as though the wolves of all Poland were after him. 
 
 A much better reply to the good-morning of the 
 prince would have been "the same to you," for Victor 
 Reppoun had not slept long, nor over-well. He had 
 had hosts of curious thoughts keeping him awake; 
 rambling, random thoughts of black eyes, rosy lips, 
 brown cheeks, masses of hair, and pretty fingers; 
 thoughts punctuated by frowns and smiles, shrugs of 
 the shoulders, arching of eyebrows, bites on his mous- 
 tache, and slaps on his knee. He had taken the 
 journal from his pocket, looked long and earnestly at 
 the linden leaf; wondered how it were possible that 
 Kathi Chichkini was not more than a peasant, or, per- 
 haps, but a serf; declared it was simply impossible ! 
 that she was an angel out of heaven ; looked again at
 
 A CLOUD-SHADOW OVER THE OLD MILL. 71 
 
 the linden leaf, much as Cleopatra watched the ser- 
 pent, little thinking how like Cleopatra's pet this leafy 
 idol might become if made an altar for too long and 
 earnest sacrifice to something in it and beyond it. 
 
 Oh, we labor hard upon our idols ! By the sweat of 
 our brows we carve the marble. Beautiful rises our 
 ideal, and every hammer-stroke imbeds an atom of 
 our own existence into its grooves and ovals. We set 
 it on high upon a noble pedestal. We drape it with 
 a robe more precious than the golden-threaded fabric 
 Shah Jahan threw over Banco Begum. A web of 
 immortal hours, ruthlessly torn from the narrow limits 
 of our lives, we wrap about it. Talents lent upon 
 usury we lay in a napkin under the feet of our god- 
 dess. Then falling on our knees to the ideal, we cry, 
 " Lo ! here I am ! all that there is in me rests on this 
 pedestal ! Oh, my life, live ! Oh, my love, come to 
 me ! Open those arms, that from this burning fever 
 with which my brain was tortured while I wrought, I 
 may rest, rest, rest in them ! " 
 
 And sometimes it is answered. Our excited vision 
 beholds the mirage of our dream reflected in a hu- 
 man form. The ideal moves before us. Madly we 
 fly to embrace what? The real that moves, ready 
 to love and live and labor, life and life, with us? No ! 
 Our ideal, that we at infinite cost have builded. 
 Hence many a sorrow, many a wasted life. The 
 quails were bitter to the hosts of Israel. We find an 
 imperfection here and there. In angry disappoint- 
 ment we then cry, " I have been deceived ! This is 
 not what I asked for, not what I labored for, not what 
 I wanted." Because we were looking then at what ? 
 Only our own ideal, and would not see the real to
 
 >j2 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 undeceive ourselves. What then? We crush the lily 
 we have picked, and from its depth glides a tarantula 
 to fasten on our hand. We cast away the rod we 
 have selected, and as it falls, like Moses', it becomes 
 a serpent to coil in our bosoms ever afterward. 
 
 But Victor Reppoun was in no mood to moralize. 
 He placed the date beneath the linden leaf, wrote 
 " In memoriam" and with a smile replaced the jour- 
 nal in his pocket. 
 
 It was already becoming a precious little thing 
 to the cold-hearted Prince von Meerschaum. He 
 drew out a tiny medallion that hung by a light gold 
 chain about his neck and lay upon his breast. It 
 was a lady's face, a wonderfully sweet face in min- 
 iature, set in a circle of diamonds. " What a simi- 
 larity !" he said, holding it close under the little flame 
 that flickered in a silver vase of oil, representing 
 the sacred lotos that is supposed to have been the 
 torch of the gods in the old mythic days upon the 
 Nile. He pressed the medallion to his lips, whisper- 
 ing a name too softly, a name too precious to be heard 
 on earth, and replaced it. Then bowing to the earth 
 before a small crucifix, with our Lord in agony painted 
 upon gold, he performed, not without a warm and 
 earnest faith, the full duty of a Greek Catholic, and 
 fell upon his tent-bed with cleaner hands and a purer 
 heart than many to be found in Russia a half cen- 
 tury ago. 
 
 "Those were the prettiest, sweetest lips I ever 
 saw," he whispered drowsily. "I wish " But what 
 he wished only his dreams determined, and he was 
 still dreaming when at the earliest daylight the neigh- 
 ing of the borrowed horse recalled him from the
 
 A CLOUD-SHADOW OVER THE OLD MILL. 73 
 
 pleasures of dream-land to the pleasures of real-land, 
 and he went out to find the major in the very act of 
 cursing him. 
 
 It was a full hour before the time appointed when 
 he drew rein at the mill, saluted the miller, and 
 returned the borrowed pony. With no reason to 
 refuse, he accepted an invitation to drink tea, and 
 entered the low, rudely furnished front room of the 
 miller's isba for the favorite cup. The samovar, 
 smoking and steaming, was put on the table by a 
 gaunt but not unkindly woman, who also served it. 
 The prince had hoped that Kathi Chichkini might do 
 that. 
 
 The isba was rude enough, though a strong and 
 comfortable affair ; but even in the arrangement of 
 the stools and tables about the room, and the hanging 
 of little curtains behind the heavy shutters, most 
 effectually spoke of a love existing there for better 
 things than could be found in an old mill in Poland. 
 But where was the lover? Surely the gaunt woman 
 serving boiling tea had no such refinement ; and the 
 prince looked again for Kathi Chichkini. She did 
 not come ; and when the clock, hanging directly 
 opposite him, where he could watch with torturing 
 patience each swing of the long pendulum, had 
 counted off ninety times sixty in its ticking, he began 
 to realize that he had come upon a fool's errand and 
 would better have sent his valet with the horse, instead 
 of having him ride behind with two. It was evident- 
 ly a great relief to the miller, whom he had vainly 
 endeavored to question, when he complimented the 
 gaunt woman on her tea and rolls, and took his 
 departure.
 
 74 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 "He is unnaturally careful of the girl," the prince 
 thought, as he mounted his own horse at the door and 
 rode away without so much as being asked to come 
 again. But after riding half a mile he dismissed his 
 valet, and turning sharp to the left, circled the mill, 
 and reached the brook and the wild arbor by the 
 lake. Everything whispered of her there as else- 
 where, but nothing more ; and after waiting, search- 
 ing, and dreaming, till thoroughly weary of it, and 
 possibly vexed withal, he turned away, shrugging 
 his shoulders. No one had ever kept out of his way 
 before ; yet, strangely enough, this only added fuel 
 to the fire, and fixed more firmly in his heart a curi- 
 ous fancy for Kathi Chichkini. 
 
 " Retreating slow, with oft embarrassed pause, 
 Forming with restless hands, unconsciously, 
 Blank accident ! Nothing's anomaly." 
 
 The major need not have trembled as he did, for 
 surely there was not a man of the company who re- 
 gretted his departure more than the prince, when he 
 heard of it after returning from the mill. 
 
 "The major is an odd fellow," he said, " and always 
 seems unhappy ; but, after all, a better man at heart 
 than Major Wolzonn one might seek far to find." 
 
 The days went more slowly after his departure, for 
 in a quiet and solemn way he had done much more to 
 brighten them than his friends had realized. Victor 
 Reppoun was particularly glad their hunting-time was 
 drawing to a close, for he was becoming thoroughly 
 vexed with himself at the powerlessness with which 
 he yielded once, twice, three times, and searched 
 again for the spirit of the lake by the mill, though 
 each time added to the number of failures.
 
 A CLOUD-SHADOW OVER THE OLD MILL. 75 
 
 The fourth time he looked in upon the arbor ; the 
 fourth time he found it empty ; the fourth time he 
 rode down to the lake, and that was unrippled by an 
 oar. His horse stopped to drink. The water was 
 low from the bank, and the horse in stretching his 
 neck drew the rein from the rider's fingers ; he sprang 
 forward, caught them in time to save a repetition of 
 his former misfortune, and 
 
 " Oh, please, sire, don't ! " exclaimed a clear, sweet 
 voice, that had been ringing in his ears for a half 
 month and more. She had been hidden by a clump 
 of bushes, having just stepped from her little boat. 
 In one hand she held the dripping boat-cord, in the 
 other her push-off pole. 
 
 "I have found you at last, ma petite!" he cried, 
 dismounting. 
 
 "Dear me! I thought you'd lost your way again, 
 and were going to jump into the water." 
 
 " Rather, lady, I have found my way to your hiding- 
 place." He bent forward to kiss her hand. 
 
 Quick as thought she dropped the push-off pole, 
 hid her hand under her apron, gave his extended 
 fingers a sharp cut with the boat-cord, made a merry 
 courtesy, and explained : " Please, sire, it might not 
 be just clean, you know." And she shook her head, 
 and laughed at him. 
 
 For one moment at least, in the course of his life, 
 the Prince von Meerschaum was at a loss for words. 
 
 " Don't you see, sire ? " she asked a moment later, 
 looking up as though she half enjoyed the thought 
 that she had offended him. 
 
 He laughed outright as he answered : " I think I 
 both see and feel. But come now, little one, make
 
 76 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 up for this. Sit down here. I'll not kiss your hand, 
 and you'll not strike me. But tell me about the books 
 you've read, and what you'd like to read, and when 
 I go back to St. Petersburg I'll send you a fresh sup- 
 
 Pb'-" 
 
 "I don't mind that," said the girl lightly, fastening 
 
 her boat-line, then sitting on the moss and grass while 
 the prince lay at her feet, pretty, slender feet, and so 
 unlike the feet of Polish peasant girls, even cased in 
 tiny shoes that were almost delicate, and pretty pink 
 stockings. For two hours they hardly moved ; and 
 if, before, the prince had wondered that she knew so 
 much of what he had learned, he wondered now that 
 he knew so little of many things upon which she was 
 well informed, till in his admiration he wholly forgot 
 that the forest's child was but a peasant girl, or per- 
 haps only a serf. 
 
 Ah, how many times our fairest Vestal Virgins for- 
 get to drink of that fountain of perpetual youth, and, 
 like the Briganta Spendereccia of Siena, are too 
 prodigal indeed of what they have, throwing their 
 golden glories into the street from the windows, to 
 attract at random any passer-by, nor stop to consider 
 that, Briganta-like, famine, dearth, and empty coffers 
 will ere long be displayed by nakedness ! Blessed is 
 that woman, and crowned with life-long adoration by 
 the man she loves, who, though her silks be calico 
 and her diamonds dew, is yet possessed of that magic 
 cruse and priceless wine, a common-sense education, 
 lavishing from which impoverisheth not ! 
 
 Leaving the world of books and ancients, they 
 wandered to the present. Then came the time for 
 the prince to speak, and the brunette cheeks flushed,
 
 A CLOUD-SHADOW OVER THE OLD MILL. 77 
 
 and the black eyes shone, and the raven hair fell in 
 careless beauty wherever a chance gust left it, as she 
 listened to the glowing stories of the wide, wide world 
 and of its golden glories. 
 
 "Dear me!" she cried, when he paused for a mo- 
 ment. " How I have longed to see the beautiful world 
 you know so well ! And do you live in a palace ? " 
 
 "In a castle a cream-white castle a little way 
 beyond the city to the north," he said. 
 
 "That's very like a story-book, isn't it, sire ?" 
 
 "And the loveliest chapter of all is the living there," 
 added the prince, with a low laugh. 
 
 "That is odd," said the girl, looking into his up- 
 turned face with a smile that he thought angelic. 
 
 "What is odd, my lady?" 
 
 "The way you are looking at me." And though 
 that was not precisely what she had intended, it an- 
 swered the purpose very well, for while she had been 
 gazing upward into the thick shelter of forest-leaves, 
 or through them into visions of the enchanted world 
 that seemed to her nothing but glory and joy, a list- 
 less,- longing, dreaming shadow, touched with matu- 
 rity, overspread her face, a shadow of womanhood 
 in the warm summer fields of girlhood. Just as her 
 eyes fell till they met his own, Victor Reppoun had 
 whispered, "Oh, how heavenly beautiful!" That 
 was what she meant as odd, and so indeed it was. 
 But the prince made no answer ; he hardly heard. 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders, and her merry laugh 
 waked the hushed woodland into echoes. The spell 
 was broken. 
 
 "I I beg your pardon, lady, a thousand times. 
 I "
 
 78 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 " Dear me, you frightened me ! " 
 
 "Did I ?" he asked; and she looked down again, 
 as if expecting another fright, for his voice was so 
 strangely soft and low, yet clear and penetrating to 
 her very heart, which leaped like a startled doe be- 
 fore the hunter. She fancied it must be sweet as the 
 voice of the proconsul Claudius whispering to the 
 Druid priestess in the sacred grove under the holy 
 moon. "I could not choose but look at you, you re- 
 mind me so perfectly of a very near, very dear friend 
 of mine, long ago gone up yonder, [he crossed him- 
 self,] whose name is sacred, and whose picture I 
 could worship by that Santo Volto in the cathedral of 
 Lucca, though the crafty priests say truly that Nico- 
 demus himself cut it from memory of that eventful 
 night. See, this is the picture ! " He drew the me- 
 dallion from about his neck, bowed his head rever- 
 ently, crossed himself, and whispered, "Angel mother 
 mine ! She was a Dane. Oh, how I loved her ! My 
 very life went out with hers. Had she lived in the 
 land of Brahma, my greatest joy would have been to lie 
 upon her funeral pyre. Years have veiled the bitter- 
 ness, and another life, phoenix-like, came up from the 
 ashes to take possession of me a cold, heartless life, 
 far more truly than the expression means to-day, ' un 
 cceur glace? Fairest, truest, purest of women, not 
 time nor eternity can efface her image from my heart. 
 Oh, that I could but emulate her loveliness of char- 
 acter ! " 
 
 Kathi Chichkini bowed low over the medallion. "I 
 should think, sire, you might well have loved her ; " 
 and flush answered to flush, outline to outline, eye to 
 eye, till one seemed mirrored from the other through
 
 A CLOUD-SHADOW OVER THE OLD MILL. 79 
 
 the mists of half a lifetime. w She seems to remind 
 me, too, of some one of long ago," she added ; "but I 
 am a Dane, and possibly that is all." 
 
 And the prince said to himself, in an exclamation 
 literally fraught with amazement, "And God forgive 
 me ! this heart that never since has loved a lady, 
 loves this counterpart of that medallion. Oh, bitter 
 curse of being noble, that one cannot love and marry 
 but under the brand of a title ! " And aloud, yet not 
 aloud, he repeated the Polish serenade : 
 
 "The consummate of human bliss, 
 The joy of heaven on earth were this : 
 To win from lips so fair, so free, 
 The boundless, endless luxury 
 Born with a kiss; " 
 
 and, as the soft echo died away, that curious, irresist- 
 ible silence fell over all. The air seemed heavy with 
 the incense of Eros. The beautiful face was again 
 absorbed in thought, and bent over the medallion. 
 The temptation was not an instant old when yielded 
 to. She dropped the medallion, springing to her 
 feet. He rose from his knees, actually trembling as 
 he remembered his promise, and wondered where the 
 chastisement would be applied this time. 
 
 "Well, that was odd ! " said she. 
 
 "And what was odd?" he asked. 
 
 " I thought you were talking to the medallion." 
 
 "And so I was." 
 
 "And kissing me?" 
 
 "And kissing you." 
 
 "Well, that was odd, wasn't it, sire?" 
 
 But before he could answer, every feature of the 
 little face had changed. She started like a mountain
 
 80 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 chamois on the rugged Jungfrau when a foot falls too 
 heavily on the glacier of Griindelwald, or a cracking 
 grass-stem, furlongs off, betrays a hunter. 
 
 " Hear that ! " she whispered. " Papa the miller is 
 pushing off his boat to come and look for me." 
 
 Prince Reppoun struggled in vain to catch the 
 faintest sound, though a shudder crossing the girl's 
 face told him the searcher was unwelcome ; and all 
 the strange incidents came back in an instant, as, 
 muttering, "There is some mystery there," he placed 
 himself between her and the lake. 
 
 "He will not hurt me," she said scornfully, answer- 
 ing the movement. " I've a good friend close by who 
 would tear him all to pieces if he touched a single 
 hair. I call him Cerberus, not because he has three 
 heads, but because he is a dog ; and I love him as 
 much as if he had fifty." 
 
 Quick as thought two little brown fingers were 
 pressed hard upon two rosy lips, and a shrill, piercing 
 whistle shot across the lake. An instant, and a dis- 
 tant bark announced that Cerberus was on the path. 
 
 "Hear that!" and her eyes were radiant with the 
 triumph of pride in the possession of that humble, 
 powerful friend. 
 
 "And is there nothing, child, that /can do?" asked 
 the Prince von Meerschaum, reluctant to be thus set 
 aside for a one-headed Cerberus. 
 
 " Oh, yes indeed, sire ; you can go away." 
 
 " I cannot." He stepped forward as a gallant de- 
 fender should. " I will " 
 
 " Please, sire, you will break my push-off pole ; and 
 I had much rather you would go away. He thinks 
 Russian noblemen are a terrible set, that do nothing
 
 A CLOUD-SHADOW OVER THE OLD MILL. 8l 
 
 but murder and rob, and everything bad and nothing 
 good ; and I don't know but they are." 
 
 This she said with such a laugh as he had seen 
 when she had nearly upset him on the lake a 
 merry, malicious, meaning laugh, that made him 
 grind his teeth and love her all the more. 
 
 "Then I go because you send me," he said, turn- 
 ing to mount ; " but tell me first that I may see you 
 again." 
 
 " If you look where I am, you will be sure to see 
 me any time." 
 
 "And to-morrow, and here?" 
 
 "Please, sire, I tell you he will lock me in my room 
 for a month if he knows you have been here ; and by 
 this time he can hear your voice, I think." 
 
 It was under a strange conflict of inclinations that 
 he rode away. At the last moment he turned his 
 head she was still watching him. The little brown 
 fingers touched the rosy lips and tossed away a fare- 
 well kiss that had been waiting there ; then such a 
 peal of merry laughter sounded that he dashed the 
 rowels deep into the black sides beneath him, mutter- 
 ing, " She has been playing with me, and laughs to 
 think of the fool she has seen me make myself! " 
 
 The horse leaped forward under the argument. A 
 huge dark mass came whirling toward him, in a literal 
 cloud of leaves and moss and sticks, that left the mo- 
 tive power within hardly recognizable. The horse was 
 going too fast to turn or stop, and sprang directly 
 over it, while Cerberus, from the midst of it, gave 
 a low growl. 
 
 The Prince Reppoun, provoked by the curious fare- 
 well that after all was but a happy freak of the child, 
 6
 
 82 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 and, by an odd application, saved her being locked in 
 her room for the month, went back to St. Petersburg 
 without once more visiting the lake. Kathi Chich- 
 kini gave him just one opportunity to have seen her 
 if he would. All the next day she spent very near 
 the spot where they parted. Then she too became 
 angry, and wondered if " Papa, the miller." was right, 
 and avoided the spot till it was reported that the party 
 of hunters had gone from the Round Lake. 
 
 If one may think that Kathi Chichkini did not care 
 whether he came or not, they will be vastly mistaken ; 
 yet, after all, she of the two was the more sensible. 
 Not even the miller suspected that she had a thought 
 of him till a box of books reached the mill from some 
 unknown source in St. Petersburg, and his sharp eyes 
 read her heart. The books were all new, purchased, 
 doubtless, and packed at a bookstore, (there were 
 several such now opened at the capital, though when 
 Paul's hand fell dead from the scepter not one book- 
 stand was to be found in his entire domain;) and 
 though the miller could not read a word, he scanned 
 each volume carefully, arrived at the conclusion that no 
 harm could come, and let his daughter read. No 
 message came with the books ; but at least the noble- 
 man had kept his word, and Kathi Chichkini had no 
 thought of asking any more. Possibly he too would 
 come again some day. Surely she hoped he would ; 
 and as hour after hour swept rapidly away, beguiled 
 by the entertaining volumes, she found oftener and 
 oftener his face woven into the story, and that from 
 the medallion even closer and clearer appearing with 
 every page. They were two faces that grew into her 
 heart, and rooted themselves there as firmly as life itself.
 
 AT THE MOUTH OF HELL. 83 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A SUMMER ENDING AT THE MOUTH OF HELL. 
 
 WHAT gloomy times those are ! hours in every 
 life that's lived, when mole-hills, too many of 
 them, become ragged and high mountains, and we 
 settle down into the opinion that for one cause or an- 
 other we are of all men most miserable. 
 
 As the Countess von KramarefF's daughter had so 
 sweetly warned Albrecht von Bremen at the ball, they 
 had spent the summer, so much of it as had gone by, 
 on the beautiful shores of Lake Liman, under the 
 watchful eye of hoary Mont Blanc. 
 
 At first the young countess had thought herself 
 particularly fortunate in thus securing a devoted lover 
 for the season, and the undoubted refusal of a husband 
 in the Fall ; and she was quite of the opinion that 
 she should be satisfied. The aged mother was very 
 agreeable, as a high official had introduced the Count 
 Albrecht von Bremen to her house. His title was 
 good enough, though none too high. He appeared to 
 have gold, though for that her daughter too had 
 enough for both. She was, in fact, too happy to find 
 that her daughter had apparently settled on something 
 a little lower than the very high ambition she had 
 warned her against, to make any objection whatever. 
 People are apt to go to extremes too, and from guard-
 
 84 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 ing her child so scrupulously till now, the daughter 
 was suddenly allowed much more freedom than is 
 generally granted in Russia. Hence the Dane von 
 Bremen had a very satisfactory time of it, warmed and 
 encouraged by the mother's approval and the daugh- 
 ter's good will. There came a time, however, when 
 a hotel proprietor addressed a little note to Madame the 
 Countess, asking if her daughter were actually to 
 marry the Count Albrecht von Bremen, and if she 
 were to hold herself responsible for the present bills 
 he was contracting. The countess's eyes were alto- 
 gether beyond reading, so that this, with all other let- 
 ters, fell into the daughter's hands. It was not hard to 
 make apologies to herself for this first variance from 
 what might have been expected, yet the countess's 
 daughter was tender-hearted, as may be remembered, 
 on the subject of her mother's gold. Still it was only 
 a first rebuff, and gradually wore away, though the 
 letter was never answered, and Albrecht von Bremen 
 soon announced that he had changed his hotel, which, 
 for all its fine title, he found " a very uncomfortable 
 place." The countess wondered why? 
 
 There came another blow, however, shortly after- 
 ward, and my lady lay upon a couch, one afternoon, in 
 a richly furnished apartment, moaning, and thinking 
 herself of all the world most miserable. She was quite 
 alone. She would have smiled had even her nurse 
 Elise been present, because, forsooth, she was all that 
 was left of the house of Kramareff, and she proposed 
 to w honor it as it should be honored," and not to cry 
 at trifles such as this. 
 
 The afternoon was not far spent when the usual 
 caller was announced. A moment sufficed to wipe
 
 AT THE MOUTH OF HELL. 85 
 
 from her face every expression unbecoming in the 
 daughter of old General and Count von Kramareff, 
 and she swept into her mother's apartment with a 
 stately grace that rested well upon her lovely form. 
 The countess had not yet finished her after-coffee nap, 
 but the rustle of her daughter's dress awoke her. 
 The young woman, kneeling hastily, kissed her moth- 
 er, as was well, but without further waiting sprang 
 angrily upon the subject burning in her heart, flush- 
 ing her cheeks, and lighting her eyes .with a most 
 unnatural fire. 
 
 "Mother ! " she said, "the Count von Bremen calls 
 again ; " and the title was wound about in a bitter cir- 
 cumflex. "Now, mother, I have a favor to ask of 
 you, and I beg with all my heart that you will grant 
 it without a word." 
 
 "What is it, my daughter?" 
 
 "That I may speak to him alone; and as soon as 
 you can well, leave us." 
 
 The countess held up her trembling hands in hor- 
 ror, and solemnly answered, " Never ! " . That might 
 have settled it ; but almost immediately she dropped 
 from the high pitch of tragedy to add, "Is it not 
 enough that he should ask me if he desire you, with- 
 out bursting every limit of refinement to hear him 
 yourself ? " 
 
 " Aye ! and what if I would not myself, nor yet 
 have you accept that man while I have breath to 
 breathe a ' NO ' ! Ah ! he is a villain ! a villain of the 
 very deepest dye, mother." Her hands, that clasped 
 her mother's, trembled with anger ; her eyes were 
 burning scorn.
 
 86 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 " Child, I am old," said her mother, " speak slowly. 
 I do not understand." 
 
 " Mother ! " she cried, more excitedly than before, 
 " I hardly understand myself. But this much I know : 
 this Albrecht von Bremen is no more a count than I 
 a queen. He is little if any better than a miserable 
 lying pauper." 
 
 " Child, are you sure of what you say ? " 
 
 "Aye, mother, I know it, every word." 
 
 "Then, how can you wish to see him at all, much 
 less to be left alone with him? " 
 
 " Ah ! but I burn to tell him that I know it, and bid 
 him forever to be gone ! " 
 
 "You are headstrong, child. Have you measured 
 your thoughts ? " 
 
 "Aye, mother dear, and know my will and the 
 result of it. Come ! let us have it over with." 
 
 Obeying, rather than yielding, the mother took her 
 daughter's arm, and, a curiously stately pair, they 
 entered the salon. 
 
 Now Albrecht von Bremen was fascinating to a 
 dangerous degree, and during this summer he had 
 exerted every faculty to make that danger as potent 
 as possible. He was dove-like, but he was serpent- 
 like too, as my lady had discovered, one in appear- 
 ance, the other in heart. In fact, we are all of us 
 more or less triangular. One side of us we see our- 
 selves, another side we show to our neighbor, and a 
 truer side than either He sees who looks through the 
 outward appearance on the heart. Among other 
 additions which Albrecht von Bremen had made to 
 the fascinations he offered was the sounding brass of 
 " Count ! " This he did without either leave or invita-
 
 AT THE MOUTH OF HELL. 87 
 
 tion, though very much against the general usages of 
 society ; but even this he dared to do, and patted himself 
 upon the back with the motto, " Only the brave deserve 
 the fair," in its original from the Tartar serfs of Russia. 
 " Fortune's wheel is always turning," he also repeated 
 many times, and of late had fallen into the habit con- 
 gratulatory of adding, "And now, my boy, all your 
 life in the sky vaults and cellars is ending, ending in 
 the wealth of a beautiful countess." And who shall say 
 that a man who is an exquisite villain may not yet fall 
 deeply and tenderly in love, even though gold were 
 the magnet that drew him on ? Shortly after the ladies 
 had appeared in the salon, and the Dane had 
 presented himself to them, in a momentary lull the 
 countess's daughter, fearing her mother might yet 
 have repented the half promise, made a pretext of 
 music in the street below to go to the deep window- 
 seat at the end of the room, where the Dane was only 
 too ready to follow her, expecting in the course of 
 things that the mother would follow too. 
 
 "What a soft air this the gods are granting us!" 
 he said, M soft, very soft." 
 
 " Indeed it is, Monsieur Count," said my lady. 
 " One might almost think it the sweet breath of Circe 
 wafted from Aesea, so soft, so enchanting, so magical 
 in changing everything, as it seems." 
 
 " In changing everything? " The Dane sought the 
 depths of her dark eyes for a meaning, but they 
 smiled on him as though Circe herself were looking 
 down. He was right. A guilty conscience discovers 
 quickly such a point. She had intended to open her 
 attack with it, and only waited his reply to check- 
 mate in just three deadly moves. But the Dane
 
 88 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 noticed that the lady's mother had left the room, and 
 delayed the game a little by inquiring : 
 
 " Is er is she ill ? " 
 
 "No, Monsieur Count; I desired it." 
 
 "You er you desired it ? " The Dane had al- 
 ready forgotten his momentary suspicion. His face 
 was wreathed in smiles. 
 
 "I did desire it." She answered in a way that once 
 more placed the game in a position to proceed. 
 
 " You er you I do not understand you, lady ; 
 do not understand." 
 
 "Then, to be more explicit," said the lady, "by 
 what authority are you a wealthy count, beggar ! 
 Albrecht von Bremen ? " 
 
 He groaned in response to this, much as Schicchi 
 du Cavalcanti groaned in the face of Dante, charged 
 with a similar crime, and for the first time in the pres- 
 ence of the countess's daughter he hung his hands by 
 his thumbs in the pockets of his pantaloons, and his 
 head well upon one side, and his eyes half closed 
 themselves. At last the herb of Mercury had van- 
 quished Circe's sorceries. 
 
 "You understand me easily," she added. 
 
 ff l understand your words, lady." 
 
 ''And you know yourself." 
 
 " Two-and-forty years I have been studying," he 
 said, with a faint smile. 
 
 "Then you know what I know, and how I despise 
 you." 
 
 "And this without an explanation ?" 
 
 "This will prove all you ask," she said. "Here, 
 monsieur, is a full explanation." She scornfully 
 tossed a pocket-journal at his feet, and wheeling
 
 AT THE MOUTH OF HELL. 89 
 
 about with even more than usual dignity, she left 
 him alone. 
 
 "By the great God, this is an explanation! my 
 own diary, full of state secrets ! " he groaned as he 
 stooped to pick it up. " Am I growing old, I wonder, 
 that the world, for me, is unearthing such a host of 
 blunders ? " 
 
 He slipped into the hall, earnestly hoping that no 
 one would notice his leave-taking ; but a page waited 
 by the stairs, and led him through the hall to the 
 great door on the court. 
 
 Albrecht von Bremen was not a man of haste in 
 passion. He moved slowly where others raved, drag- 
 ging his words after him as though it were a burden 
 for him to pronounce them. But his case was pecu- 
 liar to-day. An overpowering desire seized him to 
 wreak a vengeance upon something, were it never so 
 meager, to be once more, as many times before, the 
 victor. This being the victim was ne,w to him, and 
 disagreeable. It was thought and done. As the twist- 
 ing, squirming, well-taught page threw the great 
 doors open before him, the Dane carried out his new 
 desire with the toe of his boot, and a screaming, 
 howling boy, out on the marble pavement of the 
 court, was the immediate result. 
 
 " Stop the howling ! " the Dane whispered fiercely, 
 bending over him. "Come now, to stop I'll give 
 you a five-franc piece or another kick. What! five 
 won't do it ? Make it ten, then, ten francs or two 
 kicks. Now er now mind you stop ! " The boy 
 smothered his sobs in his coat-sleeve. "See how they 
 glitter ! Look ! I er I drop them into the pocket 
 of your er your er what is it? bob-coal?
 
 pO CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 Yes, to be sure, bob-coat; very pretty bob-coat, 
 yes." 
 
 When the boy was in the hall again, and looked in 
 the pocket of the very pretty bob-coat, and die 1 not 
 find the two bright five-franc pieces, he came to the 
 philosophical conclusion that he might as well have 
 taken his time leisurely, cried his cry out, and had 
 just so many of life's tears shed, as to have trusted 
 that man for either his five-franc pieces or his kicks. 
 It had done its work, however, and the Dane rode 
 away calmer by far for the loss of the surplus energy, 
 and feeling nearer equal with the world as a whole, 
 if not with the atoms composing it, the story of the 
 sparrow and the eagle over again. 
 
 Obedient to his order, the heavy coach-wheels that 
 bore him rattled down the uneven pavement of the 
 Rue du Mont Blanc, over the long bridge across the 
 Rhone, past the little island to the right, where Pra- 
 dier's statue of Rousseau now stands, and the ducks 
 and geese and swans live in the boiling foam of the 
 rushing river. 
 
 "How is it they say," muttered the Dane, "'Nine 
 trip on the sill where one falls on the walk ' ? I think 
 so, yes ; but what of it ? Tripping is not falling, nor 
 is falling going down forever. ' Flames may be kin- 
 dled while the taper burns.' H'm yes. Better keep 
 it burning, then, till the fire is started." 
 
 " I say, coacher, what are you stopping for ? " he 
 asked, as the sturdy, one-ideaed coachman appeared 
 at the window with a broad, full face that almost 
 filled the opening. One hand was upon the knob 
 of the door, while the other grasped the brim of his 
 great glazed hat as a wood-cutter would have grasped
 
 AT THE MOUTH OF HELL. pi 
 
 the ax. His round, gray eyes looked a little mysti- 
 fied withal as he asked : 
 
 "And did you not say to the English Gardens and 
 leave you there ? " 
 
 "Did I ? Oh er yes, I believe I did. Open 
 the door for me. The scenery was so fine, I quite 
 er yes, yes, a pretty place is Interlachen." 
 
 The rough fingers clutched at the hat-brim in a sort 
 of despair as the driver replied, " This Interlachen ? " 
 
 "Oh er yes, I see. Let me out, I say ! And 
 what place is it, then ? " 
 
 "Genevar, sir." 
 
 "Geneva er yes, Geneva. A pretty place is 
 er er yes, yes " and turning sharply, he 
 walked away. 
 
 " Geneva a-w yes aw Gcnevaiv" mused 
 the driver, looking stupidly after him, and tapping 
 his weather-beaten nose with his whip-handle. "And 
 what sort o' man are ye, hey, as don't know Genev^w 
 from Interlachen when you sees it, hey ? Bein' yer 
 forgetful, mayhap ye's forgotten some 'nothermore 
 beside as I's had best remind you of." 
 
 Pulling the glazed hat hard over his forehead, and 
 giving a cautionary look from under it to the old 
 horse, who seemed in no haste to leave a bit of grass 
 he could reach with the tip of his tongue, he spoke 
 the inevitable "whoa !" thrust his whip into a "relief" 
 in the trappings of the collar, and started at a clumsy 
 run after Von Bremen. The Dane heard him coming, 
 and purposely walked at such a pace that more than 
 once the stiff-legged driver almost gave up the chase. 
 It was a long, hard run for him ; but in time, pant- 
 ing, his forehead covered with great beads of per-
 
 92 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 spiration, he planted himself before his forgetful pas- 
 senger, gasping, "Please, sir, ye's forgot " 
 
 "Ah!" said the Dane, turning shortly enough to 
 have annihilated one a whit less toughened and dull 
 than he. 
 
 " But ye's forgot " 
 
 "Forgotten what place this is? Why, Geneva, you 
 knave ! Geneva. You told me yourself, an " 
 
 " The pay, the pay ! the pay ! " 
 
 " Oh er yes, I see, I see. I thought I told you 
 I should want you to-morrow at the same time as to- 
 day. Here is my card ; come again to the hotel in the 
 morning. I will er yes, I will pay you for both 
 at once." Then looking into the driver's eyes with a 
 fiendish grin, he added, " Tomova la -por rosa, mas 
 devenia cardo, scnor Vctturino " (I took her for a 
 rose, but she has proved a thorn), and left him. 
 
 The coachman stuffed the card into his pocket. 
 Could he have read it he would have found it the 
 name of a pawn-broking Israelite of the city. And 
 muttering, "What sort o' gibberish is that, hey?" 
 turned again to his horse. 
 
 When the Dane was nearly out of sight he cast a 
 quick glance over his shoulder at the outwitted driver. 
 He clinked the two five-franc pieces with his hand, 
 that hung by the thumb in the pocket of his panta- 
 loons, and with his head upon one side, he muttered : 
 " I think I'll go back to Denmark. Til start to-night. 
 I'll wait until her anger cools before I speak again. 
 Oh, that wretched journal ! How came I to lose it? 
 I've a mind I'll never keep another. That I have."' 
 
 The countess's daughter too, after performing her 
 feat of prodigious bravery, found herself almost power-
 
 AT THE MOUTH OF HELL. 93 
 
 less in body and mind, and also much inclined to re- 
 turn to the north ; and not many days later all that 
 was left of the house of Kramareff was rattling and 
 rolling along the dusty, sunbaked roads toward the 
 far away capital of Russia. 
 
 By a chance meeting, Major Wolzonn had been 
 for one day an occupant of their carriage. He was 
 strolling restlessly about the world, trying to use up 
 his summer. His courage had flagged before reaching 
 St. Petersburg, and he had, after all, determined to 
 wait till the prince returned from his hunting-trip, 
 which would now be by the time he could reach the 
 capital, and decide for himself on more positive evi- 
 dence whether in fact he had seen more than a her- 
 mit and more than a horse. After coming to this 
 conclusion, he wished himself back by the Round 
 Lake as bitterly as he had wished himself away 
 from it. 
 
 Rounding the hills, a small village came in view, 
 quietly, almost lovingly lying on the rough breast, in 
 the rugged arms of mountains frozen at the crown 
 and clothed with evergreen about the base. Only a 
 moment more and the heavy carriage drew up, not at 
 a post-station, but at a village inn. 
 
 "This is the third time only that you have seen 
 this spot," the countess said to her daughter. " It 
 was a favorite with your father ; " and mechanically 
 the arm lifted the handkerchief, and the chronic tear 
 came out to meet it. Major Wolzonn disliked those 
 tears, and was inexpressibly thankful that at the mo- 
 ment he was stepping from the coach. He had been 
 in a state of nervous prostration all summer, looking 
 for something that never came, expecting it in every
 
 94 
 
 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 noise and footfall, till the " sound of a falling leaf had 
 chased him." In this same condition he found him- 
 self, though the evening was far spent, lying on a 
 carpet of pine needles in the dense shadow of a moun- 
 tain grove that touched" the inn upon one side, and on 
 the other, with but a few unimportant breaks, the melt- 
 ing snows of August. He had been long in that same 
 position, for the red moon rising over the ragged 
 peaks, and shining at last white and clear through 
 breaks here and there in the branches, touched with 
 brilliants little dewdrops gathered on his epaulets and 
 silver sword-scabbard, when suddenly he was aware 
 of a form stealing stealthily from the veranda of the 
 inn, and crouching through the moonlight by a path 
 skirting the grove. From his position he could easily 
 see beneath the branches. He started to his feet, for 
 no amount of disguising and crouching could hide 
 from one so familiar as he, the tall, graceful figure 
 of the countess's daughter. The rattle of his sword- 
 harness startled her. He was a fool to have moved, 
 he thought, but made the best of it by saying, " It is I, 
 a friend, lady." 
 
 " Major Wolzonn ! " she exclaimed, with a sigh of 
 relief and regret mingled. " I did not think to find 
 you here." 
 
 "Where are you going, my lady?" he asked ; then 
 added quickly, " But never mind. You should not 
 go alone. Let me follow at a distance, lady ; some- 
 thing may happen when you may need my sword. 
 I will see nothing, hear nothing, I swear by " 
 
 " Tut ! tut ! No swearing in the moonlight. But 
 come if you like, and keep your eyes and ears open 
 if you will ; only keep your lips closed afterward."
 
 AT THE MOUTH OF HELL. 95 
 
 " Enough ! They shall be hermetically sealed." 
 
 They walked together, she taking the lead, down 
 a narrow path, he following, hardly so much as won- 
 dering what the end would be. 
 
 " Is it very late? " she asked. 
 
 " Not more than ten ; but late enough. Are you 
 frightened ? " 
 
 "Ah, dear, no ! I was only thinking. Stop ! this 
 is not the way. Ah, yes ! here it is, this little path, 
 leading up the hill, I mean. What if we had passed 
 it?" 
 
 " And how far does it lead up the hill ? " asked the 
 major, after they had been climbing long enough 
 according to his fancy. 
 
 The lady laughed. " I believe that Major Wol- 
 zonn is a little bit afraid. Really, I do not know. 
 I was here only once, once with the Duchess von 
 Offenbach ; I think that was the name : a lovely lady, 
 though I have never met her since. There, it was 
 just past this rock. And see see it ! We are 
 already there." 
 
 "Already where, my lady?" 
 
 She laughed again. "I've just been waiting my 
 patience out for that question. Why didn't you ask 
 before? Have you no curiosity?" She leaned 
 against the rock to rest for a moment, and turned 
 that lovely face full upon his. Ah, the wild moon- 
 light ! how it enhances even the sweetest face ! 
 The officer trembled under the blow, for it was noth- 
 ing less. He would have fallen on his knees, and 
 touched his forehead to the ground in the serfs sub- 
 mission to this vision of splendor. He would have 
 exhausted the vocabulary of love, and not have spoken
 
 96 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 then the half that was cruelly crushed into the dun- 
 geons of his heart. But had he not sworn tf by that 
 fair hand " never again to speak of love ? With al- 
 most superhuman will he thrust the opportunity be- 
 hind him, and replied, " To the soldier curiosity is 
 forbidden. His part is not to ask or reason, but to 
 do and die." And the profound truth that he spoke, 
 in its terrible application to himself, made his heart 
 sick and faint, even in the moonlight, alone with one 
 of the fairest women in the world. 
 
 " But to-night you are not a soldier, you are only a 
 man," she answered. 
 
 Why did she tempt him? Was it not wonderful 
 already that flesh and blood could withstand so much? 
 Why did she thus redouble the agony ? Probably she 
 had not the least idea of what she did. With one 
 more tremendous effort, turning his head that he 
 might not see the face as he spoke, he answered : 
 
 "And you see I have already been enough of a 
 man to ask." 
 
 " That is just like you. But tell me, do you believe 
 in ghosts and witches? " 
 
 "Why? Have you seen a skeleton pass this 
 way ? " 
 
 " Pshaw ! Therre's an old woman lives just over 
 there, unless she's dead, a hundred years old at least, 
 I know, and I really believe she can tell you every- 
 thing of what your life has been, and what it will 
 be." 
 
 The officer shuddered. He did not much fancy 
 such an unfolding, but answered her lightly enough, 
 " In truth, lady, I am not much of a believer in what
 
 AT THE MOUTH OF HELL. 97 
 
 understand, but fond enough, after all, of 
 mysteries. We will go on when you are rested." 
 
 The walls of a low-roofed hovel rose grim and 
 forebodingly black against the sky. One would know, 
 without being told, that it was the home of a wild 
 Zenza. The very moonlight seemed to loath it, alone 
 on the edge of a black forest. The first sight sent a 
 shiver creeping through the soldier's veins. 
 
 "Will you knock?" asked the lady, seeing her 
 companion hesitate after they had found the door. 
 
 "Yes, yes, I will," he replied, but could not move 
 a hand. Cold sweat stood on his forehead not chilled 
 by the \vind. ^Long, quivering shadows stretched to- 
 ward them from rocks and pine-trees. Snow fell with 
 a muffled crash over some distant precipice, wrapped 
 in its swaddling-clothes of clouds, and the silence that 
 followed the echoes was stiller and more ghostly than 
 before. 
 
 The countess's daughter stepped forward, and 
 shame, not courage, drove the soldier to answer 
 again, "Yes, yes, my lady, I will rap." 
 
 Three times he touched the door. The first he 
 hardly heard himself, the last could not have roused 
 a waiting ghost. He started back, muttered a curse 
 that died upon his lips, and waited. A stranger, 
 stronger terror seized him. 
 
 The signal was an open sesame, faint as it w;s. 
 He saw the black door swing upon its hinges and dis- 
 appear in blacker night. Mechanically he followed 
 the lady, as she felt her way across the threshold, 
 asking, " Helwig, is that you?" 
 
 " Helwig," squeaked a shrill voice that might have 
 fallen from the ill-tuned throat of an eagle perched on 
 7
 
 98 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 one of those distant crags, for all there was in it to 
 indicate a near human being. " And who else could 
 it be, living here at the mouth of hell, to tell people 
 their comings?" 
 
 "Amen!" muttered Constantine Wolzonn. But 
 once within the hut, the dank odor of long-burned 
 drugs served in a measure to suffocate his fears. In 
 a dreamy, half-cognizant state he stood with his eyes 
 fixed on the moonlight as it shone upon the window, 
 the only window of the miserable apartment. 
 
 "Do you know me? " asked the lady, who was yet 
 far from satisfied. 
 
 "You?" cried the same voice again, still coming 
 from far in the distance. " And it's few that I don't 
 know, and few that I do know." 
 
 A little blue blaze sprang flickering up in a cup of 
 oil. She held the cup above her head, and shaded 
 her eyes with a hand whose long, huge-jointed fin- 
 gers, black with burned sulphur and wrinkled with 
 age, were tipped with curling finger-nails. And 
 though she closed the fingers, the light still shone be- 
 tween the joints in irregular patches over her face. 
 She advanced a pace, and even Lady von Kramareff 
 fell back with a shudder as Urim prepared a reply. 
 
 "You ! " she cried again. w Aye, aye ! 'twas your 
 father you asked me of; murdered, you told me, 
 and I you, by a stripling whom you knew and your 
 father loved." She nodded her head with a fiendish 
 grin. 
 
 " Yes, Helwig, you know me, and I am faithful 
 to-night ; I believe you know everything. Take this 
 and tell me what is coming. Tell me truly, and you 
 shall have another when you are done."
 
 AT THE MOUTH OF HELL. 99 
 
 Taking the coin, she held it under the light for an 
 instant, then tossed it into a broken urn, muttering, 
 " Gold ! " with an unearthly chuckle. 
 
 She commenced her work of foretelling with a 
 huge copper caldron remodeled to serve as a fur- 
 nace, where soon the crackling of a fire was heard, 
 and from which issued the thick white smoke of sul- 
 phur burning, as Yama Dehrmarajah Patala rode 
 upward. 
 
 The jets of flame searched deeper into the corners 
 than the lamplight, in one disclosing two ghastly 
 bones, bleached white, hanging crossed above a pile 
 of straw that formed the witch's bed ; in another, 
 pulling restlessly upon his chain, grinding a plum- 
 stone between his teeth, grinned an ape, while before 
 him two yellow eyes, glowing like coals of fire, 
 marked the head of a large black cat. 
 
 Lady von KramarefT drew closer to the officer, 
 trembling and starting in terror as the reflection 
 from his glasses, that had fallen from his nose, 
 danced about the room. She was under the terror 
 now, and a wild chant the witch struck up was grow- 
 ing louder. She whined and cried like a southern 
 hyena when the moon is rising out of the Syrian des- 
 ert, and, throwing more sulphur on the fire, fell upon 
 the floor in grotesque contortions. Old mother earth 
 was the floor of her dwelling, and in her unintelligi- 
 ble incantations she seemed to be reproducing Gray's : 
 
 " Facing to the northern clime, 
 Thrice she traced the Runic rhyme; 
 Thrice pronounced, in accents dread, 
 The thrilling verse that wakes the dead; 
 Till from out the hollow ground 
 Slowly breathed a sullen sound."
 
 100 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 At all events the sullen sound came at last, in the 
 center of a charmed circle, but more in response to 
 a heap of live coals she took from the caldron and 
 dropped in the circle than in answer to her weird 
 call. And the sound was followed by a shining 
 brown head, with two small black eyes and a fiery 
 red tongue. And the shining body of a snake 
 followed it, and coiled in the circle as far as possible 
 from the coals. 
 
 Inspired by the malicious, low glare in its eye, and 
 told its tale in that solemn hiss, she ceased her chant- 
 ing to watch it and listen, as the Hindoo soothsayers 
 watch the evil eye of Sani. 
 
 w Aye, aye ! " she cried, springing to her knees, 
 and pointing a long crooked finger to the sulphur 
 smoke that was slowly rising, " look there in the 
 white smoke ! Three boys are holding cages up and 
 calling to a bird, ' Oh, my pretty, pretty ! ' She 
 wants the food they offer, but cannot tell which of 
 the three to en-ter. One calls to her, 'Come to me; 
 for thy song and thy beauty I'll cherish and love 
 thee.' No, no ; she leaves him, and I thought she 
 would; for he promised well, but his cage was the 
 commonest cage of all." Then she swayed to and 
 fro as though heart-broken over the depravity. 
 
 "Aye, aye!" cried the withered witch again. 
 w Look there in the white smoke ! Two boys are 
 holding cages up and calling to a bird, 'Ah ! my 
 pretty, my pretty ! ' and one cries, 'Come to me, and 
 a gay life of passion I shall give to thee.' Aye, she 
 lights upon his cage. Ha ! he grasped for her and 
 missed her. Oh ! oh ! " She clasped her forehead be- 
 tween her palms and swung as a weaver at his loom.
 
 AT THE MOUTH OF HELL. IOI 
 
 w He cursed his luck wbri he lost her, that he had not 
 her wings and her tail to sell in the market. Ha ! 
 ha ! ha ! that was a gay life, sure, and to be sure. 
 
 " Hush ! " she exclaimed, as the snake began to 
 sway from side to side ; seeing which, the ape in the 
 corner crouched, shivering, behind his chain. The 
 snake sat erect ; the ape went on crunching his ever- 
 lasting plum-stone. The old woman sought another 
 picture in the white smoke that now came more 
 slowly and in irregular puffs. 
 
 " Look there ! " she cried once more. " One boy 
 alone. His cage is on the ground. He says, ' Go in, 
 if you wish to. I would have a bird to sing, and why 
 not you if you sing well ; ' and aye, aye ! she has 
 gonvj straight into his cage ! Lackaday for it, too ! 
 But 'tis always so. Ah ! and I see another picture. 
 He cared not enough for his bird to shut the door, yet 
 I see her struggling, struggling, struggling against 
 the wires, and on beyond I see where winds are 
 blowing and fierce tempests howling. I see an 
 escape, and a capture by another. I see I see 
 bright feathers floating everywhere. I see the wings 
 and the tail in the market, and the market is at the 
 bottom of a raging sea. Look ! catch it ! It leaves 
 me. It is perhaps it is all a false dream, my lady. 
 Time shall try. But my fire is almost dead. Give 
 me your gold if you are satisfied, and go your way." 
 
 Major Wolzonn gave the gold this time. Strange- 
 ly, perhaps, he had a very kindly feeling toward that 
 mysterious hag, and mentally resolved to visit her 
 alone some day. And that night, long after to be 
 remembered, was almost forgotten even before they 
 reached the inn. The major's lips were sworn to
 
 102 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 silence. The countess's daughter did not choose to 
 speak. 
 
 The prophecy made but little impression ; and no 
 sooner had the Kramareffs reached St. Petersburg 
 than Heinrich Charlovitz, a Greek priest related to 
 the family and upon terms of intimacy, was taken 
 into the confidence of the countess and her daughter 
 to accomplish that end which, in truth, had been the 
 first proposed, the one which Elise had failed to hear. 
 A desperate effort was to be made for the high aim 
 which alone seemed to promise satisfaction to the 
 daughter, the success of which was so very doubtful 
 in the mind of the mother. Heinrich Charlovitz, with 
 the cunning hand of a priest, and the pretty face of 
 the countess's daughter, surprised the mother's fears.
 
 THE SERPENT TEMPTED ME. 103 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE SERPENT TEMPTED ME, AND I DID EAT. 
 
 TMMEDIATELY on reaching the capital, Major 
 J_ Wolzonn, too, had work to do. It took him at 
 once to Castle Foam. The prince was away. The 
 great gates on the highway were closed. The officer 
 in vain questioned the lodge-man as to the where- 
 abouts of his master. He had returned from his hunt 
 nearly a month before, had remained at home two 
 weeks and gone again ; gone in his own caleche, four 
 horses, a driver, a valet, and two saddles. That was 
 the only information. 
 
 Something induced Major Wolzonn to leave the 
 capital on horseback before daylight next morning, 
 and drive thirty versts to the post-station beyond the 
 fork in the roads, where the southern and eastern 
 ways separate. There he stopped overnight, though 
 it was altogether unnecessary, and asked incident- 
 ally if the Prince von Meerschaum had passed that 
 way southward, and not returned, within the pres- 
 ent month. Receiving an affirmative answer, he 
 started early the next morning for the capital again, 
 after passing a sleepless night ; dictated a letter, with 
 many a pungent frown, and carried it in haste to the 
 wharves, where a certain vessel of extraordinary ap- 
 pearance, painted black, with blood-red sails, and
 
 104 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 christened " Midnight," was all ready to sail for a 
 trading-port upon a coast below. 
 
 The master of the boat nodded as the officer stepped 
 aboard, and though he took no immediate notice be- 
 yond the nod, he very soon found himself in an obscure 
 corner far forward, very sure that the officer would 
 almost immediately pass him. This was done ; the 
 officer handed him the letter without a word. The cap- 
 tain took it without a word, and the officer was gone. 
 The "Midnight" sailed, and in time cast anchor in a 
 small, half-sheltered harbor on the coast of Denmark. 
 A hunchback sat astride one of the braces of the pier, 
 his legs, the only regular thing in his entire make-up, 
 swinging free in the salt air, as if to say, " Look here ! 
 so much of me is as good as any man ; and for the 
 rest, 'faith, I maybe better, for aught you know." 
 
 The captain passed the hunchback with a nod, 
 much the same sort of a nod as he had bestowed on 
 Major Wolzonn ; nothing more, except that as he 
 passed he dropped a small leather bag close behind 
 him. The hunchback did not move directly, except 
 to pick up the leather bag and deposit it in his lap. 
 In time, however, he slowly wriggled up, and slowly, 
 very slowly, wriggled away from the pier and up the 
 hill behind it. 
 
 A London fog, of old-time London, hung over the 
 little seaport town, the gray, old, dingy, crumbling 
 town. An old-fashioned Londoner would have de- 
 clared it only a fragment broken from the great Eng- 
 lish capital cloud, as it drifted in heavy masses with 
 every varying breath from the water, till the gray- 
 blue walls of the houses dripped like the walls of the 
 blue grotto at Capri. Sunset, the clock said; but
 
 THE SERPENT TEMPTED ME. 105 
 
 what of it? Since noon the houses across the narrow 
 streets had been invisible. The "Midnight" had 
 been all day working her way into the harbor. Only 
 now and then the clamp of the spoon-shod mule broke 
 the damp, dead silence. A quiet, dull old town in its 
 best estate, and nicknamed " L'Ennuyeux," it was ten- 
 fold more worthy the name in a time like this. 
 
 After pushing his way through fog-banks and nar- 
 row streets, where the only lights to be seen looked 
 like meteors thousands of miles away, with a misty 
 halo about each of them, the hunchback turned into a 
 narrower alley, where not a light was to be seen from 
 any distance. The gray of daylight had given place 
 to the blackest of night, and a thin, ill-shapen hand 
 slid along the wall of the alley, to detect by some sign 
 or other the spot where a door was to be found. 
 It was still there, and the hunchback entered and 
 began laboriously climbing up flight after flight of 
 uneven stone stairs, worn down in ruts, where for 
 many a year wooden shoes, large ones and small 
 ones, had clattered over them. For a score of families 
 found nests for themselves in the small double rooms, 
 and still smaller single rooms, opening on that stone 
 staircase. The little hunchback did not stop at any 
 landing, where lamplight or firelight twinkled through 
 keyhole or crack, but kept on and on till he stood be- 
 fore the dingy, smoking lantern that hung at the head 
 of the third landing. There he paused for a moment, 
 with more of a grunt than a sigh, and twisting a bit 
 of paper, lit it at the lantern, shaded it with his hand, 
 and climbed on. The blue flickering light with its 
 blue-black shadows, and the pink lines between the 
 fingers that carefully shielded it, and the white and
 
 106 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 black blur of the face that bent over it, made an odd 
 little picture, but the hunchback was past minding 
 that. The steps grew smoother as he crept higher, 
 and, with the light to aid him, he soon reached the 
 fifth landing, where only two doors presented them- 
 selves, leading to two little dove-cotes under the eaves. 
 On one of these doors he rapped, but entered without 
 waiting a reply. A little ill-trimmed lamp was burn- 
 ing on a table. It lit up the room with a ghostly 
 hue, this little neglected lamp, disclosing four walls, 
 two of stone, two of plaster, bare stone and bare plas- 
 ter, and a floor of tile as hard, bare, and cold as the 
 walls ; a rude bedstead, a chair, a high stool, a wooden 
 table, and two or three cumbersome boxes. That 
 was all, except the occupant. He sat in the chair, 
 his arm thrown upon the table with the easy grace of 
 long acquaintance with luxury. A heavy seal ring 
 graced one of the extended fingers, and his costume 
 was precise to the latest fashion in the gay world, 
 and elegant. A portfolio lay open before him. He 
 had been amusing himself with his pen. The result 
 lay in the best light of the poor lamp : two com- 
 panion sketches on a large sheet of paper. One of a 
 man (doubtless in spirit himself), merry and ani- 
 mated, in a regal apartment, bending over a beauti- 
 ful lady. The other was of the same man in just 
 such another as this little stone room under the eaves. 
 Beneath them he had written : 
 
 " Life is a golden goblet 
 
 Brimming with wine; 
 Now quaff I right royally 
 
 The sparkling foam, 
 And now, the bitter of the dregs, 
 
 They shall be thine."
 
 THE SERPENT TEMPTED ME. IC>7 
 
 He did not even notice the entrance of the hunch- 
 back. He was looking at the picture. Nervously 
 tapping the table with his fingers, he moaned, " When 
 will this everlasting almost end in one success? Oh, 
 Arnus of Etruria, say some better sooth for me ! " 
 
 " What's he been doing to you now? " squeaked the 
 hunchback, in that shrill falsetto so common when 
 the lungs are drawn all out of position. 
 
 " Ha ! Little one, what business have you there? " 
 said the elegant, still frowning from the " bitter 
 dregs." 
 
 " What you thinking of ? that girl, I'll be bound," 
 replied the hunchback, giving no heed to the question. 
 
 "How soon will you obey me," said the other, 
 springing to his feet, " and hold your crazy tongue ? " 
 
 " Dreamed more 'n once of late that there's ill luck 
 for you in that quarter. It's no good comes from 
 such " 
 
 " Hold your tongue, or I'll choke you ! " roared the 
 seal-ring. 
 
 " No, you won't. You aren't able, and you wouldn't 
 do it if you could," observed the hunchback, com- 
 placently, and added, after a moment's pause, "But 
 if that's the mood you're in to-night, I'm blessed if it's 
 any pleasanter drying up in here than soaking out- 
 side, so out I go." 
 
 "Yes, go, for that is just the mood I'm in to-night ; " 
 and he leaned back upon the table again, with a 
 heavy sigh. 
 
 The boy had almost closed the door again when he 
 turned, threw the leather bag into the room, explain- 
 ing, " ' Midnight ' brought. I'd 'most forgot," and 
 slammed the door behind him.
 
 I08 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 " H'm," observed the solitary occupant, walking 
 slowly across the room, then picking up the sack and 
 emptying upon the table a half dozen letters. "Your 
 bump of memory is with the rest of your brains down 
 between your shoulders. But a capital fellow you are 
 for some things, after all, and keep a secret better than 
 a priest. I should miss you sadly if you were to die, 
 but there's no fear of that, for hunchbacks never do." 
 
 From several of the letters he took money, with a 
 grim smile stirred up by satisfaction ; two he threw 
 upon the floor, then drew the lamp nearer and began 
 to read carefully the one he had saved till last. Slowly 
 he read, and slowly every feature of his calm face 
 changed, till, having finished, he hung his hands by 
 his thumbs in the pockets of his pantaloons, and his 
 head well upon one side, and his eyes half closed 
 themselves ; and while he crumpled the paper fiercely 
 in his hand, a volley of untrammeled curses burst 
 from his lips like thunder from the summer clouds. 
 He held it over the lamp till all was consumed but 
 the corner in his fingers. That bit he threw away. 
 It fell by the lamp, and on the half turned upward 
 one word was written, and that word "Wolzonn." 
 
 What a grand or gloomy mausoleum, covered over 
 with hieroglyphics like the monuments of Karnak and 
 Luxor, thronged with weird and withered mummies 
 like Thebes and Abydos, rises as a mental mirage 
 with that strange spell, a name ! 
 
 When the storm of oaths had spent itself, the head 
 fell wearily down on the folded arms. " So Reppoun 
 has found her," he muttered, " and gone again to com- 
 plete his discoveries. He is bold ; he is honest. Fool! 
 Lord Count OlendorfT, your little plans and mine are.
 
 THE SERPENT TEMPTED ME. lOp 
 
 like to be buried with the cities of the plain. Thank 
 Fortune, I was bright enough not to do the work 
 myself, for some one will sweat for it. Good Lord, 
 deliver me ! " 
 
 Then he was silent, a long time silent, and 
 the fog drifted outside and the lamp flickered inside, 
 till the fog drifted itself away without and the lamp 
 flickered itself out within, and the moon shone over 
 the ragged red tile roofs and through a little window. 
 It marched slowly over the floor, crept up the bent 
 back, over the bowed head, off the extended finger- 
 tips, and then disappeared again, and the air was 
 filled with the gray light of dawning when the head 
 was lifted. 
 
 " H'm," said the owner, "I must have been asleep ! 
 Yes, that was a bad dream ! Curse it ! very bad ! 
 What a vicious smell hereabout ! And my light is 
 out ! I did not put it out no ! Ugh ! having my arm 
 sawn off by the Prince Reppoun and Kathi Chich- 
 kini, while Major Wolzonn and the Countess Krama- 
 reff held me ! Ugh ! my arm is asleep, that is the 
 trouble." 
 
 He shoved the window open, and, invigorated by 
 the fresh air, stepped into the corner of the room ; 
 there he drew a false plaster from around a block of 
 stone forming a part of the wall, fitted a ring and 
 staple into it, drew the stone from its place, and into 
 a dubious-looking hole which it disclosed drew his 
 head and shoulders after his feet, that had preceded 
 them. At length he emerged, covered with dust, but 
 bearing a heaping handful of gold in his palms. He 
 threw the coins on the table, replaced the stone and 
 false plaster, then turning, addressed the yellow pile :
 
 HO CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 "If you don't do it, there's many times more in 
 there that will." So he was a miser withal. " There's 
 force in the old Spanish proverb, that there's no lock 
 but a golden key will open. If Kathi Chichkini 
 fail me, then you must win for me the daughter of 
 Count von Kramareff." He nodded his head slowly, 
 and hung his hands in the pockets of his pantaloons. 
 
 Now all of this disturbance was caused by nothing 
 more or less than the over quick suspicion of Major 
 Wolzonn's nervously wearied mind ; and yet there 
 was some truth in it all. 
 
 It was true that the prince had left his castle sud- 
 denly, and had told no one where he was going or 
 when he would return. This oversight, by the way, 
 caused the fat old butler no small inconvenience. He 
 had always heretofore been intrusted with just so 
 much of information, and had been the "popular 
 man" in the house till it all had been urged out of 
 him. This time having received no information, and 
 being much chagrined, he lied. To lie, and sustain 
 his lies, was the inconvenient part. 
 
 It was also true that the prince had started toward 
 Poland, and when the major stopped at the post-sta- 
 tion the prince was entering a little nest of five-and- 
 twenty houses, ancient in architecture, brown inside 
 and out yellow-brown as a ripe russet rind. The 
 narrow street had low eaves stretching over it ; there 
 were rough stones for paving-stones broken and 
 ragged stones. There were goats wandering up and 
 down, free as the west wind; swarms of gnats and 
 buzzing flies lying in the warm sun like beads of 
 black poised in the mid-air, neither rising nor falling. 
 There were men sitting in the doorways, forlorn as
 
 THE SERPENT TEMPTED ME. Ill 
 
 the crumbling old timbers about them. The women 
 were all gone out to work, hoeing and reaping, raising 
 just enough to last till summer came again, no more, 
 for it would only have been wasted, and what was 
 the good of that? All this was Arantha, unfamous vil- 
 lage, from which, however, comes the famed perfo- 
 rated wood-work that has become itself famous, if not 
 the men who stay at home all day to make it while 
 the women sow and reap for them. 
 
 The village inn, which was also the post-station, 
 boasted five rooms in all, three on the ground-floor, 
 two under the straw. This made a large inn, too 
 large for Arantha. The whole house was thrown 
 open to the prince, though he traveled strictly incog- 
 nito. There was a nobility in his bearing more potent 
 even than his title ; but, much to the regret of the fat 
 and gouty official, and in fact to the regret of every 
 man in the village, (for they all turned out to see the 
 new-comer,) he chose one of the little rooms under 
 the eaves, the one looking westward. Why? Far 
 away, over the green forest, the tips of the long white 
 arms of a windmill were visible chasing each other 
 round and round in a never-ending race. While the 
 Prince von Meerschaum sat in the little window, the 
 shadows lengthened into long, black lines, all point- 
 ing from the mill toward the inn, and objects down 
 below became more and more indistinct and gray. 
 The hand-cart in the yard, with the chickens roosting 
 upon it, the dog gone to sleep in the deserted coop, 
 his head thrust through a hole in the side of it, the 
 mound of grain, at which a donkey and a goat had 
 been nibbling, because they knew they would be 
 driven away if caught at it, the stagnant, green-
 
 112 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 coated pond, where the fern and wild rush flourished, 
 and its circle of black water at one end, where ducks 
 had been skirmishing, all at last were one with the 
 twilight. The clatter and the chatter of the women 
 and the children coming home subsided, and one by 
 one the stars appeared, "the beautiful evening star" 
 and her train after her, till in the infinite dome all 
 the stars of the summer night twinkled, and the moon 
 tipped with silver every leaf that shivered in the night- 
 wind. A night-bird whistled to his mate, and from 
 far away millward the mate whistled back to him, 
 and a hawk or an eagle, belated, screamed from up 
 heavenward. 
 
 In the window-seat lay an open journal, and watch- 
 ing a linden-leaf, Victor Reppoun whispered half in 
 prayer, " Ah ! that the fingers that pressed this were 
 noble! She should fill my halls, as she fills my 
 heart, with the beautiful face of my mother." 
 
 As the sun crossed the meridian the next day, the 
 prince, alone, upon horseback, skirted the mill in a 
 wide circle, saying, " I'm come not to visit you to-day,, 
 miller friend of mine, so pray grind away on your 
 grist, and do not disturb yourself or me." 
 
 The long white arms swung on obediently, and the 
 speaker soon found himself by the grotto that had 
 become such an important corner in his life ; the 
 gurgling brook and the mossy log looked lonely 
 and bare ; for a charm was wanting that would have 
 made Sahara fair as the garden of the Euphrates. 
 He sought further. A merry laugh drew him to- 
 ward the lake. A little nearer, and the prattle of a 
 tongue he had longed to hear roused the dubious 
 question,
 
 THE SERPENT TEMPTED ME. 113 
 
 "Who is she talking with? Has she found another 
 dismounted wanderer?" He urged his horse close 
 upon the lake-shore and drew the limbs one side. 
 
 Oh, world of swift vicissitudes ! w Ha ! " he ex- 
 claimed, K I took her for a type of innocence. I wor- 
 shiped her as such. I find her no novice after all, but 
 see her treating another man to the same artfulness 
 with which she conquered me. Oh, oh ! what a fool 
 I am to place a confidence in woman ! " Which was 
 altogether as unjust as it was cruel ; but how many 
 unjust and cruel things we do in the course of a life- 
 time that seem to us right magnanimous at the 
 time ! 
 
 A hollow, cold, metallic laugh was his final com- 
 ment. Those in the boat heard it, started, listened 
 for an instant, then went on with their talking. 
 
 Returning to the arbor, Victor Reppoun threw the 
 reins carelessly over a limb and himself upon the log 
 cushioned with wiry moss. 
 
 At first he was disposed to open rebellion. w Some 
 evil spirit," he murmured, " grumbling that my castle 
 home was such a happy spot, has mixed a cup with 
 poison. Bahr Sheitan, the spray of thy water is bitter." 
 Gradually he subsided into melancholy. " No, no. I 
 am not created with a heart to love ; not even a peasant- 
 girl. I am branded, and forbidden what many taste. 
 I overstepped the limit of my life, and this first misery 
 in many years is because the Serpent tempted me." 
 Then came the moralizing mood. He had nothing 
 to call him away, nothing to interrupt the natural 
 course of metaphysical wandering ; and this stage 
 was marked by a summing up in the old serf lyric 
 that was once the great hymn of the down-trodden : 
 8
 
 II^. CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 " 'Living is best to live, 
 
 That so the seed may lie 
 For yonder reaping-time to give 
 Good harvest by-and-by.' " 
 
 Then came repose, and the head fell back upon the 
 arms on the moss cushion. Bright-winged foresters 
 chanted and caroled above him. Soft and silvery bub- 
 bling music welled from the richest of harps that na- 
 ture plays upon, as it sparkled on its mission through 
 ferns and grasses : and white-bells and blue-bells 
 drooped on the slender stems till their waxen petals 
 touched and kissed the laughing billows, never ask- 
 ing how many blue-bells had been kissed before, nor 
 telling how many billows they should kiss afterward. 
 Dreamily the long-leaved ferns swayed in the sum- 
 mer breath. Quivering, limpid sunlight trickling 
 through the leafy canopy, fell like beads of gold on 
 the soft moss carpeting. Many-fingered, trailing 
 vines wound in and out among the branches drooping 
 lowest from the trees, and the breath from the flowers 
 that floated through the arbor seemed burdened with 
 Olympian odors. Like Lethean dew the fragrance 
 hung heavy upon the senses of its victim, till from 
 reverie he wandered into dream-land, fancy after fancy 
 still enticing him, goddesses of dream-land taking up 
 the silver cord and leading on. 
 
 So quietly this occurred, that never dreaming he 
 had dreamed at all, he opened his eyes again half an 
 hour afterward. The mists of dream broke slowly 
 into the sunlight of reality, for there was something 
 peculiar, not shocking, as oftentimes, but very like 
 dream-land in the reality. As his senses returned he 
 became conscious of a gentle voice not very far away,
 
 THE SERPENT TEMPTED ME. 115 
 
 murmuring something to no one in particular. Then 
 his eyes opened, and the picture was still peculiar. 
 Across his saddle hung a wreath of forest-leaves. The 
 black, flowing mane of his horse was braided with 
 white-bells. Here and there a drop of water sparkled 
 on the hair, and the voice said, "That is very odd. 
 Papa the miller charged me so solemnly the last time 
 he was here, to keep well out of his way forever. 
 I think I would run if he should wake up, for maybe 
 papa the miller is right, but here I have made sure 
 and got well into his way instead. I wonder if he 
 can be such a terrible villain ? I don't believe it 
 not a word of it ; and if I'd known that he was here 
 I wouldn't have waited half so long for Signor Gio- 
 vanni to paint the mill, for all papa told me to. I 
 think he likes Signor Giovanni just because he is not 
 a nobleman. Yes, it is odd. The first time I see 
 him he is half drowned in a brook ; the last time he 
 is sound asleep on a log hardly so large around as he 
 himself; and that's not the oddest either." 
 
 The temptation was too great. The eyes opened 
 wide, and the prince, leaning on his elbow, asked, 
 with a smile that betrayed more of his admiration 
 than he would have ventured to confess even to him- 
 self, "And what is the oddest of all, ma $ctitel" 
 
 With a startled cry she shrank back against a 
 great tree-trunk, as though it would protect her little 
 self from anything ; aye, cover her, if need be, with 
 its great ragged husk. And why not? Was she not 
 the child of those forest-trees? their foundling? 
 Long, bright days with them, and even long starry 
 nights with them, year in and year out, winter and 
 summer with them, calling each one by a name,
 
 Il6 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 worshiping in them mother, father, brother, sister, 
 aye, God too, sometimes ; they seemed such strong, 
 protecting, omnipotent things, did it not constitute 
 them hers, and she their child? What was more 
 natural then, when suddenly finding herself in such 
 an unmaidenly, perhaps dangerous predicament, than 
 that she should fly for help to a hard-hearted, gnarled, 
 and rugged, rough-skinned forest king? Was she 
 not his child? 
 
 How beautiful she, cringing there, her eyes upon 
 the ground, her cheeks bright with a tinge of shame 
 and fear, her fingers idly playing with the flowers 
 gathered in her apron, the Prince Reppoun alone 
 could tell ; but father and daughter, the powerful and 
 the helpless, made a picture that melted into a warm, 
 full summer lake even " Le cceur glac6" 
 
 More than a week went by, hastened by frequent 
 and long meetings, yet neither knew more of the oth- 
 er than that each in their own peculiar fashion loved 
 the other, though neither had spoken such a word as 
 "love." From her suspicion that all noblemen were 
 what her " papa the miller " had been pleased to call 
 them, Kathi Chichkini began to wonder that this first 
 romance of her life had been so utterly different from 
 all of which her limited reading, and more limited 
 hearing, had given her any insight. The prince had 
 not so much as kissed her hand again, and while her 
 adoration was quite content to bask in the sunlight 
 of his presence, content to live, knowing he was 
 not far away, perfectly happy if so be he smiled, 
 which he often did, yet in spite of the very prim 
 notions of life with which the good priest Arantha 
 had inspired her, and which the miller had warmly
 
 THE SERPENT TEMPTED ME. 117 
 
 seconded, she was sometimes tempted to wish she 
 had not struck him quite so hard with her boat-rope, 
 and made up her mind, with as much force as was 
 her wont, that the miller was entirely mistaken. 
 
 It was just this impression which Victor Reppoun 
 intended to convey, and for more than one reason. 
 He had plainly seen that the girl's mind was preju- 
 diced for some cause, good or bad, by " Papa the 
 miller." He had an insane idea, too, that he could 
 see her for a week, satisfy the strange feeling of ad- 
 miration she had aroused, and leave her as happy or 
 happier than he had found her, if he spoke nothing, 
 acted nothing that should so much as intimate more 
 than passing pleasure in her company. Giving him- 
 self certain license, certain restraint in these set 
 bounds, he had been wonderfully happy. He had 
 not found a peasant girl, but one in mind very 
 nearly an equal, while in body possessing all the 
 charms of rare and refined beauty untarnished by the 
 falsifying world. Unconsciously he had been too 
 happy, and as the thought pressed itself upon his 
 mind that he must return to his castle, that the sum- 
 mer would shortly be gone, and that a post-station 
 was not a place that could long shelter a prince with- 
 out question, another accompanied it to the end that 
 if out of her sight there would always be a longing, 
 always an emptiness where his heart should be. 
 
 She had indeed grown daily more lovely, as one 
 such must in the presence of the polished Prince von 
 Meerschaum. Alas ! she was a low-born country- 
 girl, while the name of Reppoun was older than the 
 foundations of Russia, and that of Meerschaum almost 
 twin-born with St. Petersburg, without a drop of low-
 
 Il8 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 born blood in all the line : so thought the prince. 
 He was certainly no man to do a cruel thing, little as 
 Russia's morality was educated, and yet ! 
 
 Just this turn of thought, " and yet," the prince had 
 been struggling with himself to conquer and arrive 
 at some conclusion, as he took the narrow lane lead- 
 ing behind the mill and lake for that hour, happiest 
 of the day, when he was to meet her by the arbor. 
 "Ah ! " he exclaimed, while his heart beat fast, "there 
 is not a life in Russia to compare with that, and yet, 
 because that is not titled, I ! Away ! Yet how 
 could it be a cruelty to better her position a hundred- 
 fold? I will at least lift her from this desolation. I 
 will take her to St. Petersburg, where she shall know 
 to her satisfaction all there is to know, live in royal 
 style, and enjoy life to the full. Curses on nobility 
 that I cannot marry her ! " 
 
 With Kathi Chichkini the feeling was strangely 
 similar and dissimilar ; and this morning, too, put 
 her heart to the test. The miller had been to the 
 village the night before to inspect this stranger of 
 whom he had heard much report. He had been pet- 
 rified to find him the same stranger of whom he had 
 been warned before by two, who, he rightfully or 
 wrongfully considered, had a right to warn him. In 
 the morning Kathi had been questioned sharply. Her 
 nature rebelled at an untruth. She frankly told him 
 she had seen the nobleman and found him very agree- 
 able. The miller began to rave madly with his tongue, 
 and stamp the floor with his heavy, home-made boots. 
 This was what she had looked for and hoped for, 
 a bit of diplomacy, if you please. The little body, 
 great Cerberus close beside her, reprimanded the mil-
 
 THE SERPENT TEMPTED ME. Up 
 
 ler, calling him not " Papa," but by his given name, 
 as one having authority. She cunningly and with 
 amusing dignity, not without majesty after all, de- 
 clined to say more to him on any subject whatever, 
 retired to her room with Cerberus, requesting the 
 miller, as she went, to lock the door as of old upon 
 the outside, "as," she added, "I shall lock it on 
 the inside, and keep it locked till I am ready to come 
 out." 
 
 The threat she carried out. Indeed, she kept the 
 door locked longer, for it was still fast when she met 
 the prince upon the lake. Possibly Cerberus could 
 have told how it all came about ; at all events, when 
 the miller, quite broken-hearted, knocked on the door 
 to beg the child to forgive him, the dog answered, as 
 if fully equal to the situation, with such a low, sugges- 
 tive growl, that he went away again, saying, "Lord, 
 she is angry enough this time, sure ; but how could I 
 help it?" 
 
 The thought uppermost in Kathi Chichkini's mind 
 was not, however, of her confinement; she cared 
 very little for that ; but that it was a bar upon her 
 seeing more of one who had become almost a god 
 to her. 
 
 This was the bitter blow. Her life, a desert, with 
 but a chance oasis here and there, in book or prayer, 
 a long association with the illiterate and uneducated, 
 though she bore it with a simple virtue that made her 
 the Angel of Arantha, was yet hard at the best, 
 doubly hard in prospect, since for a week it had blos- 
 somed like a rose. Her thoughts, as she waited for 
 the prince, were sad enough, for when they parted 
 now, she must tell him it must be the last. Deceit
 
 I2O CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 was doubtless within her power, strategy at least, but 
 not within the choices of her life. So far from it, that 
 she had nerved herself to sacrifice the pleasure she had 
 so innocently enjoyed, rather than deceive further 
 even the old miller of Arantha. 
 
 " Look, how the lake sparkles in the sun ! " she said 
 to him, after the first commonplace greetings were 
 over. A stubborn sob died on her lips, where it met 
 a spirit stronger than the flesh. 
 
 " I cannot look at it, my lady. To do it I must take 
 my eyes from you." 
 
 He had never spoken such words, nor in such a 
 voice before. Why did he choose to-day? It would 
 make the parting as much more bitter as the words 
 were sweet to her ; and yet at the words her heart 
 gave a happy bound, that had lain as heavy as lead 
 before. She looked up, much as she would have 
 said "Thank you" had he said, "What a pretty dress 
 you have ! " She was happy that she had pleased 
 him. She did not dream that he loved her ; he had 
 given her no cause for that, and indeed she was sen- 
 sible withal. It was plain that he enjoyed the hour 
 or two each day that he spent with her, and she alone 
 knew how earnestly her task had been performed to 
 make herself pleasing ; for from the first joy of nov- 
 elty he had rapidly become all in all to her, which 
 she fully comprehended. She knew that she loved 
 him just as noble ladies loved, or as she supposed 
 they loved, with all her heart and life, never dream- 
 ing, however, of more reward than such a look and 
 smile as that bestowed with his last words. Both 
 happier and sadder she looked up, a deep blush mak- 
 ing her cheek more beautiful as she courtesied in the
 
 THE SERPENT TEMPTED ME. 121 
 
 quaint peasant style, and answered in her own quaint 
 style : 
 
 "That's odd, sire." 
 
 She had not seemed like herself before, and the 
 prince hailed with delight this return. 
 
 " And what is it now?" he asked. 
 
 " You are rather odd yourself," she replied, 
 struggling hard to drag a smile through the tears 
 that crowded on the threshold. "I wish I were a 
 man." 
 
 " And what would you do? " 
 
 "I know what I would not be, whatever I might do 
 to accomplish it. I would not be a peasant." 
 
 " And what then ? A seigneur ? " 
 
 "No, sire. I despise that man who holds the soul 
 of an equal beneath his heel. But I would be a 
 savant." 
 
 It was a bold speech for the little statesman, but a 
 speech which had a meaning deeper than a passing 
 "hate," as she proved afterward. 
 
 The prince might have argued the policy of serf- 
 dom, might have declared that his and many serfs 
 were better, far better off than they could be other- 
 wise, might have said a hundred things in justifica- 
 tion, but his thoughts were otherwise bent. 
 
 " Do you know, ma petite " he continued, after a 
 moment's thought how best to say what he had to 
 say, " I am not at all sorry that you are not a man? " 
 
 " And why not, sire ? " 
 
 "Because I am selfish. Because there lacks but 
 one thing to make my happiness complete, or make 
 me altogether unhappy " 
 
 What was it that so suddenly made her cheeks burn
 
 122 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 like live coals, and her heart beat hard, almost hard 
 enough to burst the peasant bodice? Not even in the 
 moonlight, all alone, had she dared to dream it. 
 Were the prison-bars breaking? Were the shackles 
 falling off ? Was the world and freedom coming to 
 her feet? 
 
 " Can one thing be so powerful ? " she asked, hardly 
 knowing whether she spoke or \vhat she said, for 
 some madness of joy whispered in her heart that it 
 was Kathi Chichkini. 
 
 " One little thing, only one, only this, to have you 
 near me forever, beautiful Kathi Chichkini." 
 
 Ah ! the world floated and swam about her, daz- 
 zlingly beautiful, yet all unseen. The greattree against 
 which she was leaning seemed shrinking away from 
 her. Let it go. She had no more need of it. She 
 saw but one figure before her, how strong ! how 
 noble ! She felt his powerful arm about her, she did 
 not shrink from it. That was her consent. He 
 pressed a kiss on her burning cheek. Why should 
 she prevent it? The dreary past shrank like a dark 
 spirit before the bright future. He supported her bet- 
 ter than the trees ; he could protect her better. In 
 all the endearing names she had ever called them, 
 "lover," "husband," had never sounded. She could 
 leave them all without a sigh for 
 
 " A nearer one still, 
 And a dearer one 
 Yet, than all other." 
 
 So after all there was to be no bitter pang of part- 
 ing, no life-long heartaches for the bright, brief joy 
 of the past summer time. 
 
 " Me ! " she whispered at last, when to still the beat-
 
 THE SERPENT TEMPTED ME. 123 
 
 ing of her heart she must say something. " Take me 
 with you to the capital ? " 
 
 " To St. Petersburg, dear one ; will you go? " 
 
 She looked up with those large, black eyes, from 
 whence distrust had long ago vanished. He averted 
 his face, for a shadow of shame stung him withal. 
 
 "And live in a real city?" She clasped his hand 
 in hers. His hand was cold, icy cold. It almost 
 made her shiver. 
 
 " In a real city, ma -petite ." 
 
 " And see the grand sights you have told me of? " 
 
 "And live in grand apartments." 
 
 " And have you near me ? " she whispered. 
 
 " Till the grave covers me." 
 
 " And and " Her voice dropped so low that he 
 leaned forward, till his face touched hers, to catch the 
 words. "And " 
 
 "And what, bright angel mine?" 
 
 "And be your wife ? " 
 
 By some strange instinct she loosed her clasp from 
 the cold hand. It fell like lead. The prince stag- 
 gered, muttered to himself, " Good God ! she does not 
 understand me ; " then summoning all the strength 
 that would serve him in such an unwonted emergency, 
 he fell upon one knee, already in an attitude to beg 
 for mercy, and gasped, " Everything, lady mine ! 
 All shall be yours ! My wealth, and all that it will 
 bring you. Myself, my only love, my //, except 
 my name. Alas ! that I cannot give " 
 
 Who was that that stood before him ? A faint cry 
 caused him to lift his eyes that would rather have rested 
 on the ground, and the word he would have spoken 
 fell dead upon his tongue. Where was the timid,
 
 124 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 half frightened peasant girl that a moment before had 
 lain so full of confidence in his embrace? Gone! 
 Who stood there in her place ? It was Kathi Chich- 
 kini still, but a proud, insulted woman, with an im- 
 perious gesture bidding him be silent. Pale and cold 
 she stood there, those black eyes buried in his very 
 heart. 
 
 She spoke at last, her little hand still extended, and 
 every feature of her face interlaced with scorn. " I 
 thought, sire," she said, "that you were a nobleman, 
 and that you loved a mother. Beware her wrath, for 
 she was a woman too." 
 
 She turned from him like the changing wind. Be- 
 fore he could speak a word of defense, had there been 
 one, she was shooting over the lake in her light 
 canoe. 
 
 " Oh, heavens ! why did I say it? " he cried in de- 
 spair. " Why did I throw a pearl away richer than 
 all her kind?" 
 
 Long and silently Victor Reppoun stood there, 
 looking after the retreating figure. Long, long did 
 clouds of remorse and shame darken every prospect 
 of his life. Long he repented in sackcloth and ashes ; 
 and long after the canoe and the rower, and the old 
 mill yonder, were out of sight and far away, he beat 
 his breast, and cried again, " Yes ! yes ! it was the 
 serpent that tempted me, and the more's the bitter 
 shame for me that I did eat."
 
 A PRINCESS OVER CASTLE FOAM. 125 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE WORLD SHALL SEE A PRINCESS OVER 
 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 " ' Life de bonair is everywhere, 
 
 And yet a charm is wanting there,'" 
 
 SAID the Prince Reppoun, as he sat smoking with 
 Heinrich Charlovitz, shortly after his return 
 from the second trip to Poland, and the person ad- 
 dressed answered frankly, and yet as may appear to 
 some deceitfully, " I think the prince should have a 
 wife." 
 
 Now Heinrich Charlovitz was, in some respects, 
 what is commonly called K a character ; " in other re- 
 spects he was thoroughly " a man ; " and still a third 
 side of him presented a most excellent priest. He was 
 young, younger than the prince by a few years, and this 
 enviable parish was his first. He was father in sacred 
 things over the little village of Schaumburg, just below 
 the castle ; Schaumburg, so christened by Peter the 
 Great himself, a lovely little village, built in exact fac- 
 simile of the great Petersburg, as it was in those early 
 days. Father Charlovitz was nobly born, which, 
 perhaps, accounted in some measure for this first suc- 
 cess. He was exceedingly ambitious withal, and had 
 made his first duty, beyond the limits of the little 
 church, that of fastening himself in cordial friendship
 
 126 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 to the master of the castle. This was easily accom- 
 plished, for Heinrich Charlovitz was in every way an 
 attractive, entertaining man, and Victor Reppoun 
 thought much of him. He laughed at the priest's 
 comment, and answered : 
 
 " I tell you, father, my chances are poor. I know 
 of none that please me, even supposing I pleased 
 them." 
 
 The priest smiled. He had marvelously white teeth ; 
 they shone like ivory when he smiled. 
 
 "My lord is looking at buds," he said, "and com- 
 paring them with flowers that have blossomed for 
 other men. They too were buds, and other buds will 
 blossom, if my lord transplants them, till they sur- 
 prise him with their beauty. But let me say this 
 much, my lord : Brightest in bud is not best in flower. 
 The sacred lotos of the Nile, the Syrian valley-lily, 
 are of the most uncomely budlings. The virgin 
 Queen Elizabeth was in her girlhood called ' The 
 Homely ; ' and Marie Antoinette, ' La Grossiere ; ' 
 but England's court and the paradise of Louis XVI. 
 made rare flowers of them. May I tell an Eastern 
 fable, please, my lord? " 
 
 " Tell it, father ; but beware ! I know you ; you 
 sugar-coat your bitterest pills with Eastern fables." 
 
 "There is no pill here," said the priest, smiling. 
 "It is simply of a king who sought a bird that, 
 sweetest of all singing-birds, should fill his courts 
 with melody. His courtiers had tried in vain, and 
 the king himself went upon the mission. He came 
 upon a brook. Bathing in it was a bird with back so 
 brown it could hardly be distinguished from the 
 rocks. ' The best of subjects for a bribe ! ' the king
 
 A PRINCESS OVER CASTLE FOAM. 127 
 
 thought, .and spoke, 'O bird! I seek the sweetest 
 songster of the world to charm my weariness ; find 
 me the bird, and your reward shall be a crown of 
 gold and a necklace of gold wrought by my most 
 skillful workmen.' f O king!' the bird replied, 'if 
 a bird's song can please thee I will go; but spare 
 thy crown and necklace, for which I could find no 
 use.' The king was angry. He threw a stone at her 
 and cried, 'Then get you gone, brown-backed con- 
 ceitedness ! ' She sprang into the air. Her breast 
 and under-body were of purest white. Her wings 
 and tail were white and tipped with crimson. There 
 was a knot of crimson on her breast. As the feathers 
 of her neck were ruffled, a band of yellow appeared, 
 richer than the work of the king's most cunning beat- 
 ers, and on her head a coronet of yellow, white, and 
 crimson. She sang him a song, too, as she floated 
 away, that to his dying day left nothing more for him 
 but discords. That is all of it, my lord ; yet, after all, 
 think of it," said the priest, rising. He was tall, ath- 
 letic, and handsome, a man made to stand rather 
 than to sit, and one who always took occasion to rise 
 when he would say " N. B." As he walked toward 
 the door he added, " Tell me, the next time I see you, 
 that I am right." 
 
 The prince was hardly left alone when, strolling 
 out upon the lawn, toward the broad lake that was 
 the pride of the castle, he mused with a sigh : "Al- 
 ready I could say to him, Good Father Charlovitz, 
 you are altogether right. I must have a wife must 
 have, unless I turn traitor to Meerschaum. And 
 again you are right. I have seen the lotos bud and 
 blossom on the Nile, and on the Jordan and Meandre
 
 128 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 picked the lily of the valley. Yes, and I have seen 
 a brown-backed bird in the forests of Poland, with 
 a heart that was purer and whiter than snow. What 
 did I do with her? And that song, as she floated away 
 from me, r I thought, sire, that you were a nobleman, 
 and that you loved a mother. Beware her wrath ! for 
 she was a woman too,' will doubtless render life a 
 very discord to .the end. No, no ; I can never atone 
 to her or me for that bitter blundering. It must burn 
 and torture here. Yet I must have a wife. I cannot 
 have my choice. I will take whatever bird may come, 
 good singer or ill. I will open the cage-door, and 
 say, ' Come, if you. wish to come ; ' or, better, I will 
 say to Father Charlovitz, 'Find me a wife;' and 
 though I strike on Scylla to escape Charybdis, the 
 world shall see a princess over Castle Foam." 
 
 "My master!" said a soft voice behind him. A 
 page knelt, trembling, on the grass. Not one of his 
 servants but trembled to meet him since his return 
 from Poland ; yet he had never beaten one since his 
 boyhood. 
 
 "What is it?" he asked, almost angrily. 
 
 " My master, I am sent to ask if your Highness 
 wishes the coach or the saddle to-day." 
 
 "Neither." The boy touched the earth with his 
 forehead and hurried away. 
 
 " Stay ! I will settle this while I am courageous," 
 said the prince, and called after the page. "Go to the 
 Italian hall, and from the mosaic table bring me a 
 Byzantine jewel-box." The boy disappeared, and 
 the prince repeated, " I will settle this while I am 
 brave, once and forever."
 
 A PRINCESS OVER CASTLE FOAM. 129 
 
 Ah! but " forever " is a longer time than he, or 
 any of his kind, have ever measured. 
 
 He stood looking into the lake till the boy returned. 
 Thinking, perhaps, of the nature that was mirrored 
 there in a picture more perfect apparently than the 
 original, or of the picture in his heart of the dryadic 
 Kathi, or of his own past life when compared with 
 that about him and before him, he murmured that 
 old world- wide proverb, in its original Italian, " Dis- 
 tance lends enchantment to the view." 
 
 The jewel-box was a gem, one of the finest speci- 
 mens of that style of Roman workmanship. On the 
 cover, rough, irregular tiles, in wonderfully soft and 
 beautiful harmony, represented the Thorn-Crowned 
 Head, after the fresco of Guido in the Pauline Chapel 
 at Santa Maria Maggiore. He pressed his finger on 
 a flashing diamond that covered the spring. The lid 
 flew open. The box was lined with silver. 
 
 "Little box, "said he, " you are my rarest gem from 
 Italy, but none too rich a mausoleum for the relic that 
 binds me to the purest pearl that ever lay deep in a 
 cavern, out of the way of the surging sea of treach- 
 erous humanity." 
 
 He tore the leaf with "In memoriam" out of his 
 journal, and leaving, where it lay upon it, the linden 
 leaf, put the two into the jewel-box, bound a smooth 
 stone over the cover to make it sink, then, pressing a 
 farewell kiss upon the tiny casket, he turned his head 
 away, and threw it with all his strength over the 
 lake. 
 
 He heard the splash in the water far away, as it 
 sank to the bottom into oblivion? and the sound 
 echoed as a knell over the water, fell into the prince's 
 9
 
 130 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 heart, there too to sink to the bottom, the very bottom 
 into oblivion ? 
 
 He looked over the lake again. The ripples had 
 nearly died away. With a sigh, he said, " So may 
 memory of the one who picked that leaf fade out of 
 my heart and die ! " 
 
 There is, I think, a philosophy that a ripple on the 
 sea, as a vibration in the air, must go on and on for- 
 ever, never to fade out and die, till wandering into 
 eternity, each shall join in a cloud of witnesses whis- 
 pering of the tongue and hand that caused it, " Thou 
 art the man ! " 
 
 But let them go. What harm? They are nothing 
 but sounds, nothing but ripples, after all. 
 
 Forthwith the prince dismissed the matter from his 
 thoughts, and returned to the castle, where he found 
 Major Wolzonn awaiting him. It was the first time 
 they had met since the officer's hasty departure from 
 Round Lake, and his mission to-day was very much 
 what it had been when he had found the gates closed 
 a month before. He was nervous, ill at ease, and 
 wholly without connection in the thread of thought 
 running through his conversation. In truth, he was 
 trying in every possible way to find out what more 
 the prince had seen than a hermit and a horse, and 
 each failure to learn anything, simply because the 
 prince had nothing whatever to tell, made him yet 
 more at random in his thrusts. 
 
 In despair, he struck at last at the root of the whole 
 matter, and because he received the very answer he 
 had been looking for he was driven almost wild. 
 
 "And what have you been doing in the past month, 
 my lord?" he asked, and the answer that troubled him 
 was, "I have been trying to solve a mystery."
 
 A PRINCESS OVER CASTLE FOAM. 13! 
 
 r I knew it, I knew it, and all is lost ! " groaned the 
 officer, hardly caring whether the groan died beneath 
 his moustache or went further. But as he must say 
 something, he repeated, "A mystery?" 
 
 "A remarkably simple one when once deduced," 
 added the prince, making matters so much the worse. 
 
 " Oh, damnation ! " said the officer to the inner 
 man, with a terrible sinking at his heart; and aloud, 
 "My lord, you speak a problem. I cannot under- 
 stand." 
 
 "A problem? No. You flatter me. It was simply 
 what I told you, a passing mystery, that some men 
 would have solved for me in a twinkling. It has 
 taken me the month." 
 
 " And who ? " gasped the officer ; and to the inner 
 man he said again, "As sure as destiny, he means 
 me ! Aye, I am done for ! By the gods, I am ! How 
 calmly he charges me, as though 'twere but the trick 
 of a holiday ! " The answer was not instantaneous, 
 and he asked again, " Who, my lord, who could have 
 solved it?" and strangely enough, when it came, the 
 answer was precisely what he had prophesied, yet it 
 acted like a death-blow. 
 
 The prince had started a little at the first ejacula- 
 tion "Who?" just enough to scatter the ashes from 
 his cigarette over his embroidered coat, and he was 
 bachelor enough to stop then and there, forgetting 
 everything else under heaven, till the last vestige of 
 an ash-flake had been brushed away. It was while 
 engaged at this that the second " Who ?" drew from 
 him, in an absent-minded way, "Why, you," and in 
 a lower tone, not a word of which the officer heard, 
 "or any other man of like good sense."
 
 132 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 " Oh ! " groaned the major. The prince looked up 
 from his work. His lips were white, his nostrils dis- 
 tended, his mouth open, his eyes staring in a be- 
 wildered way nowhere in particular, his cigarette 
 smoking all by itself upon the floor, his hands hang- 
 ing helplessly over his knees. It was all so comical 
 that, losing the serious side, the prince fell back on 
 his divan convulsed with laughter, supposing it all an 
 extraordinarily well-planned joke on his part as well 
 as the officer's. Once slain to have discovered what 
 he supposed he had discovered, twice slain to be told 
 of it with such abundant merriment, the major lost the 
 last atom of self-control, and springing to his feet, he 
 exclaimed madly : 
 
 "Aye, so, my" lord ! I bow ! I grant it ! What then? 
 Is not the knave enough without making the fool of 
 me as well ? " 
 
 The prince ceased laughing as suddenly as he be- 
 gan, and turned slowly on the divan till eye to eye he 
 met the excited officer. They looked at each other 
 for an instant, one scarcely less amazed than the other, 
 when the prince spoke. 
 
 "By all immortal, Constantine Wolzonn, what is 
 the matter? " And Constantine Wolzonn did not know. 
 It suddenly became self-evident that there had been 
 a blunder, and that he had committed it. He seized 
 his forehead between his palms as though he would 
 have it pulverized without delay, and sinking on to 
 the divan, said in a hoarse whisper : 
 
 "My lord, I have not been well for a week. What 
 were you saying? I hardly gave attention." 
 
 "I should think not," said the prince, shrugging 
 his shoulders and shaking his head over the prostrate
 
 A PRINCESS OVER CASTLE FOAM. 133 
 
 form much as a fond father would say, "Poor boy! 
 poor boy ! His conscience is tottering under a heavy 
 load ! " though the major was nine years his senior 
 in life life measured by sunrises. Then he turned 
 resolutely away, it evidently required resolution, 
 and as he rang furiously for wine he said to himself, 
 " I have, known for years that something was wrong 
 there, but I will still let it go. He is far from a hard- 
 ened criminal. No, he will never be one. There is 
 a good fellow hidden there, and something will hap- 
 pen some day to rid him of his burden, whatever it is." 
 
 The major roused to drink the wine that was offered, 
 then, like one in a dream, he asked : 
 
 "What was it you said, my lord?" 
 
 "Why, this, in short," replied the prince, wholly 
 ignoring the interruption, "that rinding myself such a 
 recluse, without even religion enough for a hermit, I 
 set my wits to work to right matters, and decided to 
 find a wife." 
 
 "Not a hard matter," returned the officer, sitting 
 upright now, with a sigh that seemed to have no 
 limit of depth. 
 
 "That depends. But at all events, I shall do my 
 part. The wine acts like a charm. You are better 
 already. Have another glass."
 
 134 
 
 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 LEAVES VERSUS FLOWERS. 
 
 IT was not long after his first conversation on the 
 prince's marriage necessities that Heinrich Char- 
 lovitz took occasion to introduce the subject again. . 
 
 " You are right, father," the prince said almost in- 
 stantly ; "and what is more, I want you to look about 
 for a wife. You know, by repute at least, thousands 
 of ladies whom I might perhaps marry, whom I know 
 only by their dresses and jewels." 
 
 "Your Highness does me an honor inconceivable," 
 replied the priest. " I will at least tell all I know or 
 can learn of any you may name." 
 
 " No ; name them yourself, father. I want, of course, 
 a handsome face and a well body, but, most of all, 
 purity and honesty. I care not a straw for wealth or 
 title, so, of course, that she is nobly born. I've a 
 heart, I suppose, but I doubt if it can love. I marry 
 because I must. I will treat my wife as an honorable 
 husband should. Such are my conditions. Can you 
 fill them?" 
 
 "They are both very light and very heavy," re- 
 plied the priest. " Let me ask the prince this favor : 
 to give a banquet, such as I am told has not been at 
 Meerschaum since your noble father became so justly 
 disaffected, through Paul the First, with all the Rus-
 
 LEAVES VERSUS FLOWERS. 135 
 
 sians. I will select, perhaps one, perhaps many ; 
 will tell the prince all I can learn of them, and he 
 shall see them, and judge for himself." 
 
 " Do so, good Charlovitz. The ball shall be given 
 at once." 
 
 Thus it came about that the notices of the ball 
 were sent, and the day at last arrived. It was 
 the very last of harvest time, and the Countess von 
 Kramareff's daughter reclined upon a luxurious toilet 
 lounge, drawn into a massive gray-stone octagon win- 
 dow, while her nurse Elise and a maid arranged a 
 heavy coil of pearls, gathered in the Persian gulf by 
 red-skinned divers, through the thick folds of sunlight 
 hair, till the effect was that of sunbeams and moon- 
 beams tangled about the lovely face. 
 
 "Elise," said the lady softly, "have you counted 
 those wonderful cards to-day ? " 
 
 "Yes, m'lady." 
 
 * I thought so. Now tell me, what do they say of 
 the place where I am going?" 
 
 Elise made no answer. 
 
 " Are they bad ? " 
 
 "No, m'lady." 
 
 "They are good, then." 
 
 "No, m'lady." 
 
 " That's very funny, seems to me, for such cards as 
 those of yours. But tell me yourself, then, what you 
 think of him who invites us." 
 
 The old nurse was silent. 
 
 " Don't try to escape me in that way. Elise, do you 
 like him?" 
 
 "Yes, m'lady." 
 
 "Better than Major Wolzonn?"
 
 136 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 "No, m'lady ; nor near so well." 
 
 "You are not a respecter of persons, nurse. I 
 verily believe you think as much of yonder serfs as 
 of the Tzar. Now you may go. And, by the way, 
 Elise, I expect a caller this afternoon. Mother is 
 not well, and unless she rests we cannot go to Meer- 
 schaum ; therefore, do not disturb her. It is only a 
 matter of business, and I can see him alone." 
 
 Elise turned back after the maid had left, to add, 
 "There's no good in his coming here so much of 
 late." 
 
 "Who's coming?" the lady asked, starting on the 
 divan. 
 
 "Why, him that's coming this afternoon, the priest 
 Charlovitz." 
 
 "Elise!" exclaimed her mistress. "How many 
 times have I told you that questions are for me to ask 
 of you, and that my business is none of yours." 
 
 Elise made no answer. She was satisfied ; she had 
 said her say ; and she always said that say, though it 
 were through fire and water, and right in the teeth of 
 her lady's command to be silent ; and the worst of it 
 was that nine times out of ten Elise was right. 
 
 The priest came, and the daughter saw him alone, 
 apologizing for her mother that she must rest. 
 
 "I am glad," said Heinrich Charlovitz, "for I had 
 hoped to see you alone to-day." 
 
 " Have you bad news? " she answered with a flush, 
 then a dark shadow fell over her cheek. 
 
 The priest was watching her closely, and asking 
 himself for the hundredth time, "Is it love, as she 
 says, or am la party to the vilest ambition ? " as he 
 answered, " I will tell you, and you shall judge for
 
 LEAVES VERSUS FLOWERS. 137 
 
 yourself. Everything is ready. I have done all 
 you could have asked, and the result, so far as mere 
 marrying, is as sure as you could wish. He will 
 dance with you and talk with you. If he sees nothing 
 to object to, simply object, he will to-morrow or soon 
 ask for you." 
 
 "Surely, my good father Charlovitz, that is the per- 
 fection of success." The lady clasped one of the 
 priest's hands in hers and would have kissed it. See- 
 ing the motion he drew it quickly aw r ay. " Not for 
 that, lady. It is not the functions of a priest I am 
 performing now. Nor is it, as you say, the perfec- 
 tion of success. My lady, I have warned you before ; 
 let me once again He does not love" 
 
 " Ah ! good father, you place a thousand times too 
 much importance there. I love him. Love will find 
 its own. He will love me, I am sure of it." 
 
 " It is my earnest hope, and shall be my constant 
 prayer, if you accept him, that Heaven shall bend 
 his heart to love. He loves no other, I am sure of 
 that, and from the Tzar to the rag-picker there is 
 not a more honorable man in Russia." 
 
 " And had a woman not better have such an one 
 without his love, than the passion of a debauchee?" 
 
 * True, lady, true. Yet if you love him you will 
 look for love." 
 
 "Do not your good books say that love begets 
 love ? " 
 
 The priest smiled. " It may be, my lady." 
 
 " It shall, good father." 
 
 " Still I tremble. The prince is a strange fellow. 
 He says he was not made to love. I sometimes think 
 he knows."
 
 138 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 "And so much the better for me, if so far as 
 he has gone he does not know the meaning of the 
 word." 
 
 The priest was silent. He had a very strong sus- 
 picion that the prince had loved. Indeed he had 
 formed a very correct judgment as to what that love 
 had been, though not a word had been spoken that 
 gave him any authority, and he had meant it in pos- 
 itive truth, and would repeat a thousand times that 
 the Prince von Meerschaum was honorable to the last 
 drop of his blood ; yet had he dared he would also 
 have added, K Lady Kramareff, do not marry him. 
 I verily believe he will not love." As it was, he said 
 more than his judgment concurred in when he replied 
 to her last remark, " My lady, I have said all I can 
 upon one side and the other. I have acted as your 
 servant, not your friend. Your eyes are open ; act 
 your best judgment, and rely upon me to be yours in 
 any trouble, whatever and wherever it may be." 
 
 He took his leave and sought his home with a 
 heavy heart, quite the opposite to that which beat 
 high in the breast of the countess's daughter, as she 
 found herself in the splendors of Castle Foam, 
 such splendors as she had never even dreamed of, 
 and saying to herself, " I shall dance with the Meer- 
 schaum at least to-night ; but in all this beauty, is 
 it possible that I may please him?" Her task was 
 easier than she thought, for she had simply not to 
 displease, to win. 
 
 " Heinrich Charlovitz was right," said the prince 
 to himself as he led her among the dancers. "You 
 have grace enough for a queen. You are fair as his 
 idol Marie Antoinette the Beautiful." And he won-
 
 LEAVES VERSUS FLOWERS. 139 
 
 dered if, in time, such an image might not obliterate 
 the simple little figure of the forest-girl. 
 
 My lady's happiness was for the moment complete. 
 But there came other dances, when she leaned on 
 other arms, and listened, or was supposed to be list- 
 ening, to other voices ; though through the mysteri- 
 ous mazes she was jealously watching the object of 
 her thoughts, as he bent over others, speaking as 
 tenderly as to her, and making her heart sink with 
 fear for the future. A little later Count Olendorff 
 offered her his arm. She dared not refuse the grouty 
 old bachelor ; yet in the midst of the life and death 
 struggle between hope and fear raging within her, 
 how could she dance? She was only a girl, she was 
 not yet a woman trained in that mysterious and mar- 
 velous fortitude to endure everything with a smile, 
 suffer everything with cheerfulness. 
 
 The old count was wiping his bald forehead. 
 
 "Are you not too warm to dance?" she asked. 
 
 "Conundrum, hey? I give it up. Ha, ha! But 
 really, don't know but I am. Come and walk in the 
 conservatory." 
 
 Obeying this command with pleasure, they were 
 soon strolling leisurely through an immense flower- 
 garden, where but few of the guests had yet pene- 
 trated. 
 
 "What magnificent flowers the Prince von Meer- 
 schaum enjoys !" remarked the lady, finding it impos- 
 sible to keep her thoughts from that one point. 
 
 "Enjoys? Well, I suppose so, one may say en- 
 joys. But not a half hour ago I heard him say he 
 did not know his callas were in bloom, he had
 
 140 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 promised to paint one for some one ; and look, they 
 are fading." 
 
 " He paints very finely," said the lady. 
 
 w Yes, I suppose so. Pity he was not left poor", and 
 he might have done something ; but now he'll fizzle 
 in the pot. That is Count Olendorff's opinion." 
 
 My lady wondered for a moment what he meant by 
 being left poor, as though the prince were not born to 
 an estate unequaled in Russia ; but many said that 
 trouble had turned the old man's head, and, quite in- 
 clined to believe it, she dropped the subject, and an- 
 swered : 
 
 " My lord, the prince is very far from extinguishing, 
 even as an artist. Have you examined his pictures?" 
 
 How easy it is to champion or deprecate, when preju- 
 dice lends a hand ! 
 
 "I suppose so," replied the count; M and I suppose, 
 too, that you are running into the track that so many 
 young women have followed for the last ten years, 
 going mad over the Prince Reppoun. But there's no 
 earthly use in it, lady. Look at me : I'm rugged, 
 hearty, and unscathed as Troilus, though all the 
 women in the land did once run mad for me. And 
 he's just like me. I've known him from a boy. He's 
 cold and unfeeling as this stuffed bird." He laid his 
 hand on the back of a flamingo standing on the edge 
 of a fountain. 
 
 My lady stroked the feathers of the bird. They 
 were neither hard nor cold. Unfeeling they might 
 be; but she had hardly heard the bitter charges, 
 being engaged in probing a mystery across the foun- 
 tain, where two gentlemen stood with their backs 
 toward her, engaged in earnest conversation. The
 
 LEAVES VERSUS FLOWERS. 14! 
 
 uniform of one left no doubt that he was Major Wol- 
 zonn ; but who was the other? Something so strangely 
 familiar, so unaccountably intimate in every motion, 
 and a faint chill crept through her veins. The count 
 saw them, too. First he was silent, pulling at his 
 watch-guard till he broke the chain ; then suddenly 
 catching the lady's arm as though she were a spaniel, 
 he said roughly : 
 
 "Let us walk the other way." 
 
 Again she obeyed ; but rather enjoying the embar- 
 rassment, for retaliation is above all things sweet, she 
 walked very slowly, stopped to pick a flower, while 
 the count fairly danced in his nervous haste ; then, 
 with her sweetest smile, turning about and standing 
 still, she asked : 
 
 "Who are those gentlemen across the fountain, my 
 Lord Count Olendorff ? " 
 
 "Come, come ! " he said sharply. "They are none 
 that you know or ought to know. Walk, or they will 
 see us, and may follow." 
 
 "But who are they,- my lord? They do not look 
 like monsters," she said, turning slowly to follow, and 
 eying him in a way that might have suggested a men- 
 tal comparison had the count been sensitive. 
 
 "Damn it, they are monsters! villains! One is 
 Major Wolzonn, stationed at the citadel, who killed 
 the Count von Kramareff, now about a score of years 
 ago; and the other's a Dane Von Bremen he calls 
 himself hereabout. He did a lot of dirty work for the 
 traitors against Paul the First. There is no need to 
 walk so slow. Come faster ; they will follow us." 
 
 In his excitement Count Olendorff realized no more 
 what he was saying than who it was to whom he
 
 1^.2 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 talked. What though the lady's cheeks and lips were 
 white as marble ? what though she staggered and 
 caught his arm to keep from falling? what though 
 the impatient jerk he gave it brought back to life a 
 heart that was standing still, while all was dark 
 about the countess's daughter? Count Olendorff knew 
 nothing, cared nothing, for all of that. 
 
 Coming thus to consciousness, she asked faintly, 
 "Did you say, sir, that it was Major Constantine 
 Wolzonn who killed the Count von Kramareff ? " 
 
 " I said so yes. It was in one of their secret ren- 
 dezvous ; and it was good enough for the dastardly 
 traitor to die in just that fashion." 
 
 No one blamed Count Olendorff for the rough way 
 he had of talking of those Russians who had plotted 
 against Paul the Reckless, for it was he who at that 
 time had worn the honors of Lord Private Counselor 
 and Royal Adjutant to the Tzar, and it was against 
 him even more bitterly than the Tzar that the darts 
 had been pointed. Then every one hated him ; but 
 now his world was upside down, and they pitied him. 
 So he went on with his grumbling and cursing, 
 and having begun upon Count von Kramareff, stuck 
 closely to his text till Lady Kramareff, startled from 
 the horrible reverie into which she had been thrown, 
 turned abruptly upon him, eying him with a fierce 
 glare, and saying, with all the dignity of that house 
 she was honoring : 
 
 " Sir, I am the daughter of that Count von Krama- 
 reff." 
 
 " The devil you are ! " said the count, looking down 
 at her. 
 
 Then there might have been a scene, in which the
 
 , LEAVES VERSUS FLOWERS. 143 
 
 count so far departed from his wonted way as to apol- 
 ogize for his rudeness ; or another, in which he clung 
 to his wonted way, and told her he could not help it 
 if she were ; and then, when she rushed away from him 
 and fainted, and revived, people would have said to" 
 comfort her, "You must not mind it, dear; it is only 
 his way, that is all." For " people " in the abstract 
 seem to think that K his way " and " my way " are all- 
 healing balms for every wound that can be inflicted. 
 
 But both the scenes were interrupted, for at this 
 opportune moment a small, handsome man, Albrecht 
 von Bremen in fact, stepped between the two, with, 
 " Oh er yes, my dear Lady von Kramareff, and 
 my er my old friend Olendorff. Beg pardon, 
 beg pardon, Major Wolzonn, Count Olendorff;" and 
 placing the lady's hand upon his arm, he turned 
 away, asking, "And er how have you been since 
 we parted so unhappily ? " 
 
 Altogether too thoroughly overcome for either re- 
 sistance or reply, the countess's daughter silently fol- 
 lowed him. 
 
 "A little abrupt, yes," he replied for her, glancing 
 from the corners of his drooping eyes ; " but you see I 
 er well, I wanted a private word with you, and 
 you are er yes, my lady, you are very cruel to 
 me, and I knew you would not give it for asking. 
 You er you know the proverb that a wise man 
 changes his mind sometimes, only a fool never ; and 
 I er well, lady, to be brief, as I must, I hoped 
 you had changed yours." 
 
 " Never ! " said the lady, withdrawing her hand with 
 difficulty from his arm. 
 
 "Never? " His lips went up under his moustache.
 
 144 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 " Never ! not were I to be branded the veriest fool ; 
 and I pray you so consider it." 
 
 "H'm. But you must, lady. You are my life, my 
 love, my all. Love too much refuted turns to hate ; 
 and hate is dangerous when the hater knows so many 
 of the hated's secrets as I know of yours. Hunger 
 knows no laws, lady, and my love for you is hunger, 
 keen and ravenous." 
 
 The countess's daughter leaned against a flower- 
 stand for support. She trembled as she felt the subtle 
 power of that strange, magnetic influence which he 
 was wielding, and winding about her. It was not 
 that she feared him, and she most heartily hated him ; 
 yet at that moment, had he ordered her to follow him 
 to the altar, she would have done it ; though she fol- 
 lowed him as to hell, she would have followed still. 
 She knew it ! 
 
 "Monsieur von Bremen," she gasped, in a sort of 
 despairing cry, " I bid you GO ! Leave me ! leave 
 me, I command you ! " 
 
 Alack for the longing Dane ! He did not see as 
 clearly as was his wont. He took the cry as a signal 
 for desperate strife instead of a drowning man's grasp 
 for a straw, and crowning Discretion at the expense 
 of Valor, he always did, he said, with a very low 
 bow, " Ah ! well, my lady, so, so. What must be 
 must be, though, and something tells me you must be 
 my wife." 
 
 Thereupon he left her, and she stood for some min- 
 utes, almost unconsciously, by the flower-stand, seeing 
 nothing, yet gazing earnestly into the pure depths of 
 a white lily, when suddenly a deep voice close beside
 
 LEAVES VERSUS FLOWERS. 145 
 
 her roused her with the words, " ' Handsome as Apol- 
 lo, as Apollyon treacherous.' " 
 
 " Prince von Meerschaum ! " she exclaimed, while 
 the color mounted to her cheeks again, and she won- 
 dered whether she were more angry or happy to see 
 him there. 
 
 " That is a pretty flower," he added, touching an 
 exquisite exotic hanging from her brooch, without 
 giving her a moment to reply ; " I have tried in vain 
 to find the plant." 
 
 " We brought a slip from Italy several years ago, 
 but the blossom has no fragrance in our conserva- 
 tory." 
 
 She broke the stem and gave it to him. He 
 bowed, smiled, and was gone, wondering, as he 
 went, why such a beauty might not cover up entirely 
 any attraction to be found in a plain, poor little lin- 
 den leaf. 
 
 10
 
 146 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE MISSING LINK. 
 
 " T T THAT ! Zounds ! my boy, how wet you are ! 
 VV Where have you been?" 
 
 " In the court-door, master." 
 
 " Hey ? " snarled the grouty master. " And is the air 
 so full of snow that you must be covered from head to 
 foot for opening the door ? " 
 
 This was a downright lie. The boy was not cov- 
 ered from head to foot, but had brushed himself with 
 commendable neatness, only forgetting his shoulders, 
 as all boys will. 
 
 " Please, master, a gentleman kept me waiting 
 there so long until he found his card " 
 
 " His what ? A card? Give it me quickly ! Why 
 did you not wait till morning, and then send me to 
 your room for it ? " 
 
 " Because the gentleman is waiting, master, to 
 know if you are in." 
 
 " Well, I'm not in, do you hear? " he almost shout- 
 ed, standing with his back upon a broad window, and 
 holding the card at arm's length to accommodate his 
 veteran eyes. " Go down and tell him so, and then 
 brush off your coat." 
 
 The boy turned to obey, but was met in turning by 
 the very man himself, who gave him a pat on the
 
 THE MISSING LINK. 147 
 
 shoulder, and said in a soft, gentle voice, "The last 
 you may do, and welcome if you need it ; but the 
 first that would be a lie, a wicked lie, my boy. 
 Never tell lies, never tell lies ; but tell the truth 
 and shame the devil, even if he be your master." 
 
 Much bewildered, the boy went out, while, calm 
 as a summer sea, the stranger bowed very low to the 
 old man, and said, "If you are not in, my lord, you 
 should not er not roar so loud. Your trumpet 
 belies your words. It is a powerful trumpet, yes." 
 
 "I suppose so," was all the old man vouchsafed. 
 
 Seating himself before the fire, and thrusting one 
 foot toward the flame, the new-comer inquired, "And 
 why were you not in, my lord?" 
 
 The old man made an evident effort, but answered 
 cheerily enough at last. "The fact is, I'm old and 
 worn out, and could not bring myself to wish to see 
 any one." 
 
 " H'm," observed the . other, wagging his foot 
 before the fire. 
 
 "I say!" exclaimed the old man, pulling vigorous- 
 ly upon a bell-rope, as if to prove that he had lied 
 and was not old and worn out, "you'll have some 
 wine ? " 
 
 Somewhat aroused by the anticipation, the other 
 pushed his chair back to the table and replied, " I 
 think I will," and in a moment asked, " Is there no 
 news, my lord?" 
 
 "News? No. In fact, I'm clean disgusted with 
 the whole affair." 
 
 "Disgusted! That's a long word for you. You 
 must be feeling better than you did, and I might as 
 well go back with mine."
 
 148 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 " What is it, hey? You have some news? " 
 
 "Oh er yes. I thought you were er dis er 
 dis dis " 
 
 "Disgusted?" 
 
 " 'Ousted, yes, 'gusted ; disgusted ; yes, I thought 
 you were disgusted." 
 
 "And who would not be, as things have gone? 
 Come, if you've news, let's have it." 
 
 Leaning over the table, he whispered something in 
 the old man's ear that caused him to start back so 
 suddenly that the decanters rattled on the table. 
 
 After a moment's pause he emptied his glass, took 
 his hat, and without a word of farewell started for the 
 door. This course was cut short by the old man, who 
 grasped him fiercely by the arm. 
 
 "H'm, well, my lord, what is it?" he asked. 
 
 "This, sir ! " The old man jerked himself from his 
 chair by the visitor's coat-sleeve, who looked depre- 
 catingly at the spot where he had let go. "I have 
 a piece of news after all, and it quite overthrows the 
 benefit of yours." 
 
 The old man was silent, till, lowering from under 
 his eyebrows, the other observed, " Waiting for you to 
 proceed, my lord, waiting for you to proceed." 
 
 "Hey? Well, then, I will. We are neither of us 
 likely to reap much from the estates of Meerschaum !" 
 
 "Tush, tush I Take a trumpet, and roar it from 
 the window." 
 
 "What do you say? No, I will not whisper it. 
 We are vanquished, man. That is Count Olendorff 's 
 opinion." 
 
 " I should like to know by whom ? " said the vis- 
 itor carelessly.
 
 THE MISSING LINK. 149 
 
 " Know then ! The daughter of the Countess von 
 Kramareff is even now betrothed to the Prince Rep- 
 poun." 
 
 The visitor hung his hands by his thumbs in the 
 pockets of his pantaloons, and his head well upon one 
 side, while his eyes half closed themselves. A mo- 
 ment of silence elapsed. Then calmly enough he 
 replied, "How can that matter, if we keep the girl 
 away ? " 
 
 " I suppose so ; at least, that you can carry your 
 point, whether he be husband of a Kramareff or a 
 bachelor ; but, don't you see, what to me is that gold 
 and that title without a wife ? Ever since the ball at 
 Meerschaum I've had the countess's daughter laid 
 away till such a time as I might offer her just that 
 place to marry me. She did not promise me at the 
 ball, but I was coming at it when you came and took 
 her off; and I thought, to make sure of it, I'd just 
 go round and talk with the old countess yesterday ; 
 and then she told me ; w and the old man, sobbing like 
 a child, dropped into his arm-chair, while two great 
 tears followed the hard wrinkles on his face down 
 into his moustache. Evidently he could not endure 
 in his second childhood what he had "passed through 
 unscathed" in his first. "Help me there, too, Alb- 
 recht," he sobbed, " and a half of the income from 
 both estates shall be yours instead of a third of the 
 one. Do you see, hey ? " 
 
 The Dane did not say whether he saw or not. In 
 fact, he was gone when the old tear-dewed eyes were 
 opened. 
 
 Left alone, Count Olendorff ran his fingers through
 
 l"5O CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 the straggling strands of silver that still clung about 
 the outskirts of his crown, scrupulously avoiding the 
 summit, and paced the room like a young man of 
 thirty, instead of the old man that he was, with one- 
 and-seventy winters weighting his life with snow. 
 
 Pausing before the window, he flung open the sash 
 and thrust his head out into the fierce, driving storm. 
 With a sigh of relief he saw the sleigh pass from the 
 court, bearing his late visitor ; for notwithstanding 
 the great value which he had plainly placed upon the 
 services of Albrecht von Bremen, he hated and feared 
 him. 
 
 "Why did that man ever come to me? " he asked 
 the snowflakes. " Why did he tell me I was the next 
 in kin to the Prince von Meerschaum, when I never 
 knew that a drop of the same blood ran in our veins ? 
 Why did he prove to me the possibility of legally 
 thrusting him out and taking the place myself? Why 
 did he disturb the quiet of my old age with such a 
 snarl and tangle, and drag me into mischief that 
 would damn any soul to hell to carry through the 
 point ? " 
 
 Then he went back into the room, and still think- 
 ing of the mischief and the damning, said to soothe 
 himself: "But what of that? My soul was black- 
 ened deep with crime many a year ago, unless the 
 absolutions I receive before each Easter day have 
 kept it white." 
 
 Here was consolation, and, drinking another glass 
 of wine, he lay down on a low couch to smoke his 
 pipe, and wonder how soon it would all come about 
 as he and the Dane had planned.
 
 THE 'MISSING LINK. 151 
 
 He would not have lain and wondered so quietly 
 had he known how thoroughly he had disturbed his 
 potent servant by his bit of information, and that that 
 individual was just then struggling in deeper drifts 
 than the horses that drew his sleigh In fact, Albrecht 
 von Bremen was thoroughly upset. Not, as he had 
 so calmly said, that the marriage of the prince would 
 overthrow the plans he had been half his life in lay- 
 ing, but because beside those plans he had a still 
 more interesting network laid to entangle the coun- 
 tess's daughter, and it maddened him to see her slip- 
 ping from his fingers. 
 
 " I have sworn I would marry her, and , by the gods, 
 I will! " he said, stamping his foot upon the floor of the 
 sleigh. But how to do it, that was the question that 
 upset him. His plans for her were very far from 
 completed. There was no hope that he could carry 
 them out in time. Possibly they would not have suc- 
 ceeded if he had. Of those for the prince he felt 
 more sure, and they were nearer perfect. They would 
 easily do the work for both, and upon them he turned 
 all his thoughts, wholly ignoring Count OlendorfF's 
 longing for a wife, though it was through Count Olen- 
 dorfF's position that he had gained every introduction 
 in St. Petersburg's best society. 
 
 He was in more of a snarl and a tangle than the old 
 count by far. "Oh!" he groaned, "if I could but 
 find that missing link that would prove Reppoun a 
 bastard. What a fire such a spark would light in this 
 Russian capital! Just one ! one link in a long chain 
 of evidence! The prince his father, an actress his 
 mother ! Adopted in infancy by the Princess von
 
 152 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 Meerschaum to satisfy her lord, for whom, in ten 
 years of marriage, she had not borne a child, and by 
 her sworn to as her own. Only his mother to find ! 
 Only an actress! Oh, where can I go? What can 
 I do to find the missing link ? "
 
 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 'Would'st thou,' so the helmsman answered, 
 
 ' Learn the secret of the sea ? 
 
 Only those who brave its dangers 
 
 Comprehend its mystery.' " 
 
 ' For gentleness, and love, and trust, 
 Prevail o'er angry wave and gust; 
 And in the wreck of noble lives 
 Something immortal still survives."
 
 INTRODUCTORY. I 55 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 TIME has been growing old. Ten years have 
 worn away some longer, some shorter than 
 the average length of years ; merry and sad ones, 
 coming and going from eternity to eternity, laden 
 with the trials, cares, and pleasures of a wide, wide 
 world. There have been changes in the ten years, 
 as in every span forming a link in a lifetime ; but not 
 so many changes as in some shorter spans. All are 
 alive whom we met before. All are ten years older; 
 some for better, some for worse. Constantine Wol- 
 zonn, for instance, is certainly sadder, and thinks 
 himself wiser ; but whether he is benefited thereby he 
 himself does not know, much less his neighbor. The 
 Emperor Alexander died in the south of Russia, with 
 those memorable words upon his lips, " How beauti- 
 ful is the day !" His next brother, Constantine, being 
 wholly unequal to hold the reins of government, gave 
 them into the hands of the third brother, Nicholas, 
 who took them under a threatening sky, with the still 
 more memorable words, rt I shall soon be an emperor 
 or a corpse. If I am emperor only for an hour I will 
 show the world that I am worthy of the name." That 
 was in the midwinter of 1825. 
 
 The days had grown darker and darker about Major
 
 156 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 Wolzonn. He was submerged in despair consequent 
 upon the actual worthlessness and wickedness of his 
 life. It chanced that he was in the presence of Nich- 
 olas, and heard these words. They inspired him with 
 a strange, fanatic zeal. Suddenly he sprang into that 
 position where man becomes most useful in the world. 
 A man to whom self was unknown, life a forgotten 
 thing; energy, courage, indomitable will, as slaves 
 of duty the life-blood and the brain. He laid his 
 sword at the feet of Nicholas. He touched his fore- 
 head three times to the ground, and said, " Master, 
 accept my life." Nicholas knew well the value of 
 such a sacrifice. He accepted the offering and found 
 a man madly devoted through the struggles that en- 
 sued, possibly even longing for some cold, shining 
 blade that should honorably sever the silver cord that 
 had become so tarnished. Finally established securely 
 as Tzar of all the Russias, the emperor did not for- 
 get the man who had been valiant captain of his body- 
 guard, and now, in 1832, Constantine Wolzonn was 
 a general. But with quiet and rest, the new spirit of 
 self-abnegation had worn away, and the old restless- 
 ness came back : the old torments of the murderer, 
 the old tortures of the lover. 
 
 The countess's daughter had honored the house of 
 Kramareff to the full satisfaction of her mother, and 
 had been for ten years the Princess von Meerschaum, 
 for Albrecht von Bremen, though still in the field, an 
 ardent laborer in behalf of his tottering patron Count 
 Olendorff, was yet baffled in his search for that " miss- 
 ing link." Half a century and two years more had 
 slipped away from him, and still the great aim of his 
 noble life was to depose the Prince Reppoun and
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 157 
 
 marry the princess, whom he had not seen, from 
 principle and prudence, since she had driven him 
 from her in the conservatory at Meerschaum. 
 
 The affairs . at Castle Foam we must consider at 
 greater length. Suffice it just now that for nine years 
 a little prince has been growing tall and strong and 
 large upon the castle lawn. A little "Victor" of 
 course, and as like his father in body, head, and heart 
 as a little drop of water is like a larger one.
 
 158 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 AN ECHO FROM DEEP IN A MIRE. 
 
 THE summer was wearing out. It was ten years 
 and six months, in fact, from the conversation 
 of Count OlendorfF and Albrecht von Bremen, when 
 the Prince Reppoun, reclining in a summer-house at 
 Meerschaum, noted a little shadow in the door, and 
 heard a little voice say, " Papa ! " 
 
 "Well, Vick, what is it?" he asked, without look- 
 ing from his book. 
 
 "I'm going to learn to skate when winter comes 
 again ; Leo says he'll teach me." He paused there 
 for an evident lack of attention on the part of his 
 father. "And too, papa " 
 
 "And what too, my boy?" still without leaving the 
 page. 
 
 "The lake would be just the place to learn on, only 
 it's so shallow that in winter the mud comes through, 
 you know, wouldn't it, papa?" 
 
 " Perhaps." 
 
 "Well, papa, Gabriel's father says he could get 
 the water out and dig it as deep as we wanted, and 
 then let the water all in again. Wouldn't that be all 
 right?" 
 
 He kicked the toes of his little boots into the dirt 
 behind him, wheeled back and forth upon one heel,
 
 , AN ECHO FROM DEEP IN A MIRE. 159 
 
 and tried to pull the buttons from his coat, while he 
 waited for an answer. 
 
 " Do you say it, papa? " he asked impatiently. Who 
 had a better right to be impatient? 
 
 "Yes, yes, you scamp. Don't bother me, and you 
 may do as you please forever." 
 
 " Hi, hi ! I don't believe I'd better bother him much, 
 if that's the way," Victor said, as he ran away with 
 his playfellow Gabriel. 
 
 "No indeed," said Gabriel. 
 
 And three days afterward, as the prince sat smoking 
 in the Oriental vestibule, Victor entered, followed close 
 by Gabriel, without even waiting for a boy's ceremony. 
 
 "It's almost done, papa," he announced, panting for 
 breath. 
 
 "And what is it you are doing that is almost done? " 
 asked his father, patting his ruddy cheek. 
 
 "Why, papa, didn't you mean they should? You 
 said it, any way." 
 
 " Said what, my boy ? " 
 
 "Why, dig the park-lake deeper, so I can learn to 
 skate, you know." 
 
 An incident of long ago flashed over the father's 
 mind, causing him to spring rather more hastily than 
 he was wont from his reclining position. His boy 
 shrank back toward Gabriel. The worst result, how- 
 ever, was a pat on the cheek, and the smiling an- 
 nouncement that his father must go and look into the 
 matter. 
 
 The boy's smiles came again instantly, as though 
 his little face were only a mirror of his father's, and 
 holding something in his muddy little hand, he said :
 
 l6o CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 "And see, papa, see what we found buried deep in 
 the mire." 
 
 Here Victor's prattle was finally checked. His father 
 seized the dirty foundling, exclaiming, "That is a box 
 of mine, Victor, that I lost many years ago. Thank 
 you for finding it. Now run away." And without 
 waiting to see him off, he left the room. 
 
 "I think that js pretty funny, don't you, Gabriel?" 
 pondered Victor, and, as ever, Gabriel answered : 
 
 "Yes indeed ! But I wish you'd asked him how it 
 came open, before he went away." 
 
 "But he*went so quick," said Victor. 
 
 "Yes indeed !" said Gabriel. 
 
 The prince had gone directly to his private library. 
 It was a room furnished by himself for his own pur- 
 poses. Rows of shelves, crowned with heavy wood- 
 carving, covered with glass screens, supported one of 
 the largest libraries in Russia. This, however, must 
 not assume undue proportions, for it must be remem- 
 bered that only twenty-nine years before there was 
 not a bookstore in the entire empire, and not a book, 
 made or written outside of Russia, allowed to be 
 owned under the scepter of Paul. Copies, from Flor- 
 ence, of the colossal heads of Socrates and Plato stood 
 one on either side the door. Under a high dome in 
 the center of the room stood one of Karnak's small- 
 est obelisks, a miniature of the sphinx of Ghizeh 
 and temple of Anaraches on either side. One deep, 
 heavily curtained window, beside the dome, lighted 
 the apartment. Beside the pillars of the window stood 
 the Hindoo god of wisdom, Vishnu, six feet high, in 
 bronze, and the Greek Minerva in marble. 
 
 Bolting the door, the prince threw himself upon
 
 AN ECHO FROM DEEP IN A MIRE. l6l 
 
 the soft cushions that circled the window-seat behind 
 the curtains, and there gave freedom to a deep, long 
 smothered sigh that had lain for ten weary years im- 
 prisoned by the word of his strong will. It was a 
 sigh of no one and definable meaning, but it radically 
 changed in its breathing the already turbid current of 
 his life. It was an echo from deep in the mire, an 
 echo of that splash! as the box had struck the water, 
 when it sank, but not to oblivion, not beyond resur- 
 rection. This sudden summons had raised the almost 
 dead, and taking the prince at a moment when his 
 heart was not steeled against temptation, had won a* 
 victory that Kathi Chichkini herself might have lost. 
 As he sat in that window-seat, holding the precious 
 box, his summer in Poland swept like Canaan before 
 him, "a fair and happy land." He only remem- 
 bered he had loved, dearly, madly loved, "not 
 wisely, but too well ; " and distance lent enchantment 
 to the view. He remembered how for ten years he 
 had fought with himself to love another, and failed. 
 Why? Was it because he loved Kathi Chichkini? 
 He thought so. But Constantine Wolzonn was either 
 more of a philosopher, or knew him better than the 
 prince knew himself; for when he first heard of the 
 betrothal he had hurried in honest agony to his 
 cousin, and said to her : "My lady, he is too faultless, 
 he is too perfect, to abide by imperfection, be it never 
 so hidden. I know him better than you, and warn 
 you he seeks in life an ideal of his own construction. 
 He will never be satisfied with anything a hair's 
 breadth short of that perfection. Pygmalion was not 
 so fastidious ; for could he carve for himself intrinsic 
 loveliness, and a god answer his prayer for incarna- 
 ii
 
 1 62 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 tion, till the flesh was the wax of Hymettus and the 
 blood immortal ichor, even then he would be dissatis- 
 fied, because, forsooth, the fever and the weakness 
 of living were there. You know that there is no one 
 perfect here, and if he should find himself mistaken 
 in this step, your river of life would be a Bhar Shei- 
 tan to you." 
 
 The countess's daughter was at that moment blind 
 to everything but the glory and the determination 
 that she would " force him to love her," and gave the 
 most natural yet most unexpected of all replies when 
 she said, " Are you not prejudiced a little in your own 
 behalf?" 
 
 ' Pride had kept her cousin silent since that day, 
 though in truth, and he knew it, he had hit very near 
 the mark. The prince had seen in Kathi Chichkini 
 an approach to perfection that he had not found in 
 the world before., perhaps because he had not looked 
 for it, and it suddenly stirred to the depth of his soul 
 all his adoration for the beautiful. One could not say 
 that he did not love her, or that he would not have 
 loved her forever and ever had she become his wife, 
 but I do believe that what he loved was not Kathi 
 Chichkini, a blunder that brings more sorrow into 
 this world of love, or hate, than all the others piled 
 upon each other. 
 
 What of it? It was as real to him as love is ever 
 real, and this reaction after a long struggle found 
 him many times more passionate than before. In- 
 sanely passionate ! for man may worship beauty till 
 so far beyond himself that he is no more himself than 
 the pilgrim to Chawvereipak who falls before the 
 wheels of the car of Juggernaut.
 
 AN ECHO FROM DEEP IN A MIRE. 163 
 
 With indescribable reverence he laid the little box 
 before him, bitterly crying, "Why hast thou come to 
 the light again, relic of my Herculaneum? " 
 
 Exposure had ruined the side of the box, but the 
 stone bound over the top had protected the cover. 
 The Divine Head by Guido was as perfect as ever, and 
 the magnificent diamond, brighter for its long burial, 
 flashed angrily, as Solomon's genii upon the fisher- 
 man who released him. 
 
 " I wonder if the water is inside ? " he muttered, and 
 pressed his finger on the jewel, but drew it back with 
 a shudder, and, shaking his head solemnly, placed it 
 in the window-seat, laying beside it a medallion set 
 in precious stones. No one saw the prince that day 
 or night, and the valet who brought his dinner and tea 
 to the door took both down again untasted. 
 
 When he appeared for his morning drive he looked 
 worn and weary. Servants shrank away from him, 
 wistful of that peculiar frown that the oldest among 
 them remembered in his father as an omen of no 
 good, and, shaking their heads, asked the old butler 
 if he thought there was aught amiss between the lord 
 and his lady. And the wise steward, with his thumb 
 beside his nose, redder somewhat for ten years of 
 smelling of his master's wine, answered, as many 
 times in years gone by, "Wait! that is no affair of 
 yours." 
 
 Even Victor and Gabriel cast significant glances at 
 each other, and stole away without asking, as they 
 had planned together, how it was the little box came 
 open, and what it really was that had lain buried in 
 the lake so long. 
 
 " I don't believe he's very glad to find it, after all,"
 
 164 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 said Victor. "He's awfully mad about something. I 
 hope it's not about us and the lake don't you, 
 Gabriel?" 
 
 And, as ever, "Yes, indeed!" said Gabriel. 
 
 Twilight, once again winding its somber shroud 
 around the gray-white walls of Castle Foam, found 
 its master bending before a victorious idol. Pale and 
 conquered, he was kneeling there, clasping in his 
 hands a small golden crucifix, pressing it to his fore- 
 head and his lips, beseeching forgiveness for words 
 yet unspoken, for deeds yet undone. 
 
 He shuddered, but struggled no longer, for he felt 
 himself borne on by a power beyond the resistance of 
 his will. As a leaf glides helplessly down a swift- 
 flowing stream, so recklessly he gave himself up to 
 the flood that had overtaken him, and floated down. 
 
 The cold, clear, heartless moonlight fell mockingly 
 into the window-seat, as, putting down the crucifix, 
 slowly he laid a trembling hand on the sacred little 
 box. 
 
 "It is cold cold!" he whispered, as he drew it 
 from its rest. " If- it has mouldered and gone, this 
 shall be the end of it ; I leave with its ashes all it 
 represents. But if it be perfect. I am resolved. May 
 God judge me ! " 
 
 His lips were dry. His tongue was parched as he 
 touched the spring. The hinges were rusty and did 
 not move. Slowly he forced it, till, roused from its 
 lethargy, the spring laid the cover open in his hand. 
 He sprang back, unable to look at the long-hidden 
 treasure, sealing his vow thereby. Then, again 
 bending forward into the moonlight, he dared the 
 venture. With fingers as weak as a child's, he drew
 
 AN ECHO FROM DEEP IN A MIRE. 165 
 
 it from its long resting-place, as dry as though it 
 had lain those years on the sand shrine at Mecca. 
 Folded in the paper lay two halves skeleton halves 
 
 of what once had been a linden leaf. He raised 
 them to his lips to kiss them, but as they felt his 
 breath they floated from the paper, light as air. Was 
 it an omen? He sprang to catch them. One half 
 fell upon the casement, the other slipped from his 
 ringers and with a whirl swept through the window, 
 freed from the narrow confines of its tomb, to dance 
 a wild jubilee on the autumn wind. 
 
 The part which remained the prince laid tenderly 
 between two ivory covers, beside the medallion and 
 the crucifix. Softly the moonlight left the window, 
 and only the silvern ripple of the leaves reflected its 
 light from the western horizon. Then one by one 
 even the brightest stars sank into the gray before the 
 dawning. 
 
 The sun was shining full and warm when the prince 
 sprang suddenly to his feet and through the curtains, 
 which fell together behind him. 
 
 " How came I to fall asleep in such a place ? 
 What in the world was I doing? " he asked himself, 
 slowly walking the length of the room. "I dreamed 
 
 ah ! I remember. I dreamed of the little girl in 
 Poland. Oh, Kathi ! Kathi ! will you never cease 
 tormenting me? Shall my crime, like Sindbad's bur- 
 den, always cling to me? " 
 
 Pressing his hand upon his forehead, he exclaimed 
 again, " How real ! and why did I sleep, and when? 
 I am confused. Is it morning, noon, or night?" 
 Slowly he approached the window and threw the 
 damask folds aside.
 
 1 66 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 On the silk-tufted window-seat rested a gold- em- 
 broidered cushion, on the cushion a golden crucifix, 
 a sparkling medallion, and a white, ivory plate. The 
 prince raised his hand almost in prayer as he gasped, 
 " My God in heaven, IT is REAL ! " 
 
 Then he recalled his vow? and though the few 
 remaining leaves hung drearily upon almost empty 
 branches, and Winter, one foot on the threshold, was 
 nodding his frosty head to the people of the land, it 
 only hastened his movements, and ordering his 
 caldche to be fully prepared, he made immediate 
 arrangements for a trip to Poland. Though the sky 
 was heavy and dull, that somber leaden hue that 
 comes creeping up from, the north lands when the 
 stork and the heron fly southward, though the wind 
 wailed through the naked branches, and straggling 
 leaves that longer than their fellows had clung to the 
 old trunk came rattling down, chanting by the way a 
 weird funeral march to the summer-time that they 
 were burying, he had vowed he would go to Aran- 
 tha, come what might of it ; and to Arantha he went. 
 
 He had time in abundance for the laying of plans 
 through the long hours, broken only by the rattle of 
 the wheels and the rumble of the horses' hoofs ; but 
 plans he had none to lay. He was simply going to 
 Arantha going to see the miller's daughter; doubt- 
 less to ask to be forgiven ; but to nothing more than 
 that had he given a thought. This was not a pleasure 
 trip, it was a penance. The prince was not fastidious 
 for luxury at any time, least of all when on a hasty 
 pilgrimage. He left his servants at the first post-sta- 
 tion, with directions to wait there and be momentarily 
 on the watch for him. He took four post-horses in
 
 AN ECHO FROM DEEP IN A MIRE. 167 
 
 the place of his own, and a post-driver. They were 
 changed at every station and driven hard. Night 
 and day the caleche was dragged along at a rattling 
 pace by the tough little horses, urged by well-feed 
 drivers. It is surprising how short a long journey 
 might be made in Russia where everything was 
 ready, and money spurred the mare. 
 
 The roads became narrower, the trees thicker, the 
 hills steeper, and the horses' feet, crushing through 
 the drifts of leaves as they galloped down the hills, 
 sounded like the crackling and roaring of a fire in 
 the forest. 
 
 But Victor Reppoun took no hint from this new 
 face of nature. He could 'not realize that marring, 
 tearing Time could deface the beauties of that nature 
 that was still represented in his mind as " Hardly 
 nineteen, I think, and a village girl at that." 
 
 It was night when they stopped at the station in 
 Arantha, and the gouty old landlord of the inn and 
 official of the station did not recognize his guest of 
 eleven years before. He would not have recognized 
 him had it been broad daylight. 
 
 As he sat in the same little -window looking west- 
 ward, Prince Victor could not but compare the night 
 when he had watched before, and now, when clouds 
 hung heavy and dark over the mill, with the strange 
 similarity of difference in himself. Yet even then it 
 would not occur to him that Kathi Chichkini could 
 have changed. 
 
 The forests were unnatural as he entered them. 
 The stream rippled no longer, but rushed, a muddy 
 river, swollen with the fall rains. Suddenly he 
 stopped. A crooked linden told him he stood where
 
 1 68 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 he had once fallen into the water. He turned to the 
 grotto. What a ruin ! The outline of the huge log 
 in the center was marked by a growth of coarse 
 marsh-moss and lichens. The rankest, hardiest ferns 
 had choked the colored grasses and killed the white- 
 bells and the blue-bells. The trailing vines, unguided, 
 lay upon the ground in tangled masses, or hung 
 like weeping-willow limbs from the naked branches. 
 A poisonous, offensive, malarial damp rose from the 
 whole, Victor Reppoun's horse turned toward the 
 lake. He did not stop him. No little boat lay on 
 the water ; no little footpath led from the lake either 
 way. But the old gnarled trunk was there, as strong 
 and ragged and gray as the day she had turned back 
 again to its protection. "Has she gone too?" he 
 asked the tree, fiercely, as though it had stolen her. 
 
 He drew rein at the mill-door. Nothing else was 
 left him, and a hollow sound that echoed from the 
 stroke of his whip-handle made him tremble. But an 
 old man opened the door, the same old man with 
 the same keen eye, and with almost a cry of joy the 
 prince exclaimed in French, "Father, I am a traveler, 
 may I buy my dinner here? " 
 
 The old man answered him in pure Russian, " Aye, 
 aye, traveler, you are welcome to what my isba holds. 
 Only take it without paying, traveler." 
 
 "You take me for a Russian," said the prince. 
 
 "Aye, traveler; and being a Russian myself, I 
 thought I'd warn you to be well out of Poland by sun- 
 set to-morrow, for sure's the sun sets, the Tzar will 
 leap in his throne to hear that Poland has revolted 
 from his crown." 
 
 " Poland revolted ! "
 
 AN ECHO FROM DEEP IN A MIRE. 169 
 
 "Aye, my lord traveler, Poland revolted heart and 
 soul." 
 
 "And you a Russian and not afraid to stay?" 
 
 "I'm more afraid to be in Russia. Listen a bit, 
 and while you eat I'll tell you." 
 
 The same gaunt woman brought in a tray and 
 smoking samovar. The isba was not so tasteful and 
 neat as it had been. The old miller, sitting astride 
 the farther corner of the table, one foot swinging in 
 the air, began his story. 
 
 "Listen, traveler. I've never told this to a living 
 soul, and for the men's names I'm sworn upon the 
 images to keep them secret still ; but they've broken 
 faith with me, and what I may I tell you gladly, be- 
 ing it's you that treated the little girl so well." 
 
 The prince smiled, and said, "You have a keen 
 eye, father." 
 
 "I was a soldier, a little officer under General 
 Kramareff, in Suwarrow's camp, in 1798, under the 
 flag of Paul. For what I did at the battle of Liman 
 Suwarrow put his hand upon my head and said, 
 f Brave man ! ; We went into winter-quarters the 
 first of 1799, and I asked my officers to let me go 
 long enough to see my little wife for just a day, for 
 we were only three days married when they tore me 
 away from her. Oh, but they laughed at me ! Then 
 I dreamed that my little love lay sick, and, 
 faith ! I knew she had no money and could have no 
 food. Oh, traveler, those were my boyish days, and 
 my heart ached, for I loved her. One night I was 
 on guard in mid-winter. Suwarrow came dashing 
 through the camp, his horse without a saddle, he 
 without a shirt or shoe. Making that I thought it an
 
 170 CASTLE FOAM. - 
 
 enemy, I seized the horse's head and cried ' Halt ! ' 
 I stopped him, though it almost cost my life. The 
 great general smiled, and said, 'Well done! What 
 shall I do for you? ' So I asked him to let me go, 
 and he laughed at me. ' A dame should send sol- 
 diers out, not call them back, or she's a devil, not a 
 dame,' said he. Aye, traveler, an hour later, mount- 
 ed on that very horse of his, I was going madly as 
 the horse could go for Russia. I reached there be- 
 fore a soul could overtake me, and I found that little 
 devil that had called me back. I found her dead, a 
 frozen corpse, weeks old ; and in that terrible winter 
 not a soul left with strength to bury her. I swore for 
 vengeance ; then set the isba burning, and tried to per- 
 ish in the flames. But the smoke stifled me, and my 
 courage failed. A young boy, who had been playing 
 soldier under General Kramareff, met me afterward not 
 fifty versts southward from Petersburg. He was alone 
 in a post-troika. He said, ' Man, I know you ! You 
 stole a horse, and deserted the Russian army. You 
 shall be shot. But stay ! If you will do something 
 for me you shall not be betrayed.' Traveler, I was a 
 wanderer, a licensed peddler to be sure, but homeless, 
 friendless, and mad. Life was the only sweet thing 
 that I knew, and that was bitter too. Still it was easy 
 to tell him I would do anything he asked to save that 
 life. 'Get in,' he said. I got in." The old miller's 
 voice began to tremble, his eyes were brighter than 
 ever, glazed with tears. K ' Here is a little bundle,' 
 he said, pointing to the seat in front of us. 'Be care- 
 ful, it is valuable. You may open it when I am gone'. 
 Open it carefully. Here is a bag of gold. Use it to
 
 AN ECHO FROM DEEP IN A MIRE. 171 
 
 care for that bundle. Go into Poland. Stop in some 
 quiet place and live, and so long as you live and care 
 for that bundle I will support you. Fear nothing, no 
 harm can come of it ; but for the love of your life and 
 soul let no Russian nobleman know of it or see it ! 
 Swear this upon the cross.' I made the cross, and 
 swore it. The gold and the promise of support were 
 tempting." 
 
 The miller paused ; his voice was husky. The 
 tears no longer waited in his eyes. 
 
 "And the bundle?" asked the prince, an ominous 
 trembling in his heart. 
 
 " The bundle, traveler, it ivas a baby girl ! " 
 
 "Not " 
 
 "Aye, traveler, Kathi Ctiichkini." 
 
 "Then she was not your child? " 
 
 " My child ! Lord, she was better stock ten thou- 
 sand-fold than could have come from me ! She -was an 
 angel, traveler, an angel born in God's own Paradise." 
 The miller's face grew radiant. He sprang from the 
 table and raised both hands devoutly. 
 
 "Born where? " thundered the prince. 
 
 The miller started. " Oh, I beg your pardon, trav- 
 eler, I did not mean it. But she was lovely." 
 
 " Born where, did you say ? " 
 
 " I said in Paradise ; but though it's not supposed I 
 know, one night when they thought I'd gone to town, 
 they two as came down from Petersburg to see about 
 her several times, I heard them -saying, one to the 
 other, that she was daughter of a Russian noble- 
 man." 
 
 " And she is noble ! " Victor Reppoun's head fell
 
 172 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 heavily upon the table. The miller was crying like a 
 child, and did not notice it. 
 
 "And what of her to-day?" the prince asked, with 
 a shudder that shook the very depth of his being. 
 
 " Gone ! " said the miller. 
 
 "Gone! and gone where?" he asked, looking up 
 suddenly. 
 
 " Gone these ten years and more. Gone within a 
 month of the time you saw her last." 
 
 " And where ? " He sprang to his feet. 
 
 "Lord knows where, traveler. One of 'em came 
 alone and took her, not the one that left her with me. 
 Gone married, I heard them tell, some years after- 
 ward." 
 
 " Gone, married ! " groaned the prince, as he stag- 
 gered toward the door. He said nothing further till 
 he had mounted, then suddenly recollecting himself he 
 turned, and threw a purse at the miller's feet, saying : 
 
 " Thanks for your story, father. If the knaves have 
 not kept faith with you, come back to St. Petersburg, 
 find them out, and bring them to terms, and if they 
 have you arrested as a deserter, send word to the 
 Prince von Meerschaum, and I will have you freed." 
 
 "The Prince von Meerschaum !" repeated the miller, 
 as his guest rode away. "That's one of the greatest 
 names of Russia. I've heard it many times, and now 
 I've seen the great man in my own isba. Lord ! I 
 forgot to tell him how to get away if they took him for 
 a Russian. He's headstrong by the look, and, by my 
 faith ! I reckon his son, if he have one, will be the 
 Prince von Meerschaum before to-morrow night." 
 
 As for Victor Reppoun, he had no thought nor
 
 AN ECHO FROM DEEP IN A MIRE. 173 
 
 wish to seek further. His heart and life seemed black 
 as though wrapped in the Egyptian night, or buried 
 in the gulf of gloom where in stellar glory the lurid 
 Cassiopia had burned and flickered out. "My God, 
 what an ending!" he groaned, and left the mill and 
 the forest, and the bright star of his life, forever 
 behind him.
 
 1 74 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 SHE WAS NOT PERFECT. 
 
 THE prince was returning as he went, day and 
 night traveling and rapid stages, when General 
 
 Wolzonn rode toward the Castle Schaum. Seeing 
 
 Victor playing with Gabriel, he stopped his horse, and 
 
 walked over the grass to meet him. 
 
 Victor, with a shout of joy, sprang upon the back 
 
 of a huge St. Bernard, burying one hand in his neck, 
 
 cutting him over the ears with a whip he held in the 
 
 other. 
 
 "Bravo, Vick ! " exclaimed the officer, as the boy 
 
 dismounted at his feet. " Another year you'll break 
 
 his back." 
 
 " Hi ! hi ! " laughed the boy. " Another year I'll 
 
 have a horse. Papa 's going to bring me one when he 
 
 comes home." 
 
 " And is your papa away? I wanted to see him." 
 "Oh, yes ; he's been away about a year." 
 "But I saw him less than a month ago, I think." 
 "Well, then, I've been waiting a year for the pony, 
 
 any way." 
 
 The boy, already wearying of the catechism, turned 
 
 gracefully heels over head on the grass, and started to 
 
 run away.
 
 SHE WAS NOT PERFECT. 175 
 
 " Victor, wait a minute," the officer called. " I have 
 brought you something." 
 
 For this inducement the boy returned. 
 
 "What would you do with a horse if you had one?" 
 
 " Do with him? Why, just what you do with yours. 
 I'd make him go." 
 
 "But you'd need a longer whip than that." 
 
 " I think I should. Is that what you've brought me ? " 
 he asked, with a boy's quick perception. The officer 
 took his hand from behind his back, presenting the 
 boy a handsome riding-whip, a broad band of gold 
 about the hand-rest, on one side of which was the coat- 
 of-arms of the house of Meerschaum (a bird sitting 
 upon a solitary peak of rock, against which the ocean 
 waves were breaking high in foam), and on the other 
 side the boy's initials set in tiny diamonds. 
 
 "That's pretty," said the boy, and took his other 
 whip in both hands to break it, but paused with his 
 little knee in air, turned suddenly, and threw it 
 toward his playfellow, crying, " Come and pick that 
 up, and keep it, Gabriel, and I'll give you this too, if 
 papa has a prettier one for me." 
 
 This being all the thanks General Wolzonn was 
 likely to receive, as the boy had run away, (more, 
 perhaps, than he had expected,) he returned to his 
 horse. As he was mounting, Count Olendorff's coach 
 rolled by, driven at a furious pace. 
 
 The old count had been paying his annual respects 
 to the castle. It was the regular reception-day, and 
 the princess sat in state in the long salon, with its 
 three narrow and tall windows draped with Italian 
 web, all upon one end of the room, and a copy of the 
 Apollo Belvedere, guarded by one of Praxiteles' Mar-
 
 176 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 ble Fawn, in opposite corners of the other end, where 
 all was shadowy twilight on the brightest day. Long 
 lines of oil-paintings connected the windows and the 
 statues on either side. If she were happy there, she 
 did not look it ; if she were sad, she would not show 
 it. A narrow spray of sunlight that had first wan- 
 dered through the clouds, then through the trees, and 
 after all through one of the three long, gloomy sen- 
 tinels at the end of the salon, fell timidly in the 
 strange, dim place, down upon a South-Indian tiger's 
 skin. One of the yellow eyes flashed back the yel- 
 low light of the little wanderer. In the bright trail 
 it left behind it from the window to the tiger's skin 
 particles of dust were floating slowly and darting 
 swiftly, utterly regardless of the great law of gravi- 
 tation, when the count stepped into the midst of them. 
 
 He grasped the hand of the princess with bachelor 
 cordiality, saying with the kiss : 
 
 "It gives me great pleasure, Lady Princess von 
 Meerschaum, to greet you again, your cheek still 
 bright with good health, and enjoying such unbounded 
 luxury." 
 
 For years this had been a stereotyped genesis with 
 Count Olendorff. But though so often repeated that 
 his friends knew the form by heart, were always pre- 
 pared for it, and never disappointed, though pain and 
 poverty sat with them to receive, yet the count had a 
 way of saying it every time as if it were something 
 altogether new. 
 
 "With so many causes for happiness, how could I 
 be otherwise?" asked the princess. Yet a shadow 
 flitted across her face that seemed to give her words 
 the lie.
 
 SHE WAS NOT PERFECT. 1 77 
 
 "I suppose so," grunted the old man, as he settled 
 himself into a chair and began rolling a gold-headed 
 cane about his soft, wrinkled fingers with an evident 
 relish that made one watching long for something just 
 so round to roll with him. 
 
 He had hardly finished his round of stereotypes 
 after which time he always contented himself with 
 answering questions and saying " I suppose so " 
 when the priest Charlovitz was announced. 
 
 The count rose hurriedly to go. He was much op- 
 posed to the sacred things of Russia, to all sacred 
 things, in truth, those of Russia only in particular. 
 South German by birth, he had been left in early life 
 to the teaching of powerful Jesuits. Long ago he had 
 forgotten most of their pedantry, and only on rare 
 occasions, when his old heart and long-subjected con- 
 science called for something stronger than wine, more 
 pungent than his pipe, when sickness threatened, 
 and pipe and wine failed altogether, and thoughts of 
 the by-and-by made him tremble, did he call for his 
 old-fashioned book of prayer, and tell over dismally, 
 one, two, three, all the beads on his ancient rosary. 
 'To bitterly hate the Greek priest and creed was the 
 sum and substance of the old man's every-day re- 
 ligion. 
 
 " Humph ! I'm too late," he growled, as the door 
 opened. 
 
 The priest's salaam was very low, though he did 
 not remove his square black cap, a license of office 
 over everything else, of which the quiet priest never 
 failed to avail himself. He said : 
 
 "It was not told me I should intrude upon anyone, 
 or I should not have come." 
 12
 
 178 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 The count caught at the straw, and started to go, 
 but could not carry out the plan. 
 
 The priest's message was short. He asked relief 
 for one of the afflicted families of Schaumburg, who 
 were unable to pay the rent that was due. The lady 
 sent for her purse and presented it, when he bowed 
 himself out with as much of Oriental suavity as ever 
 graced the Bramin in the royal colonnades of Oude 
 upon the Hoogly. 
 
 " Strange sort of a priest that," the count said as 
 the door closed. "Yes, yes, very strange; is he not, 
 your ladyship ? " 
 
 " A little hard to understand, my lord, but one whom 
 you may like better as you know him well. There is 
 none of the sanctimonious goodness so insipid in many 
 priests. I really adore Father Charlovitz. I believe 
 I should go quite on a pilgrimage if he bade me." 
 
 "Yes, yes, I suppose so," said the count; and with 
 a mental observation, "It will work like a charm, if 
 it will work at all," he took his leave, directing that 
 he be driven with all speed to Isak Bridge. 
 
 This accounted for the rapid motion of the coach as 
 it passed General Wolzonn, who made his way at 
 once to the castle. 
 
 "You are not a very frequent visitor of late," said 
 the princess, extending both her hands. 
 
 " To my sorrow, I am not, my lady. I have been 
 in Olen for a month, and am to be stationed there 
 hereafter." 
 
 " We could scarcely see less of you were you stationed 
 in Moscow." 
 
 The bright color had long ago faded from my lady's 
 face, and the brisk enthusiasm from her voice, and the
 
 SHE WAS NOT PERFECT. 1 79 
 
 quick, sharp glance from those dark, full eyes. Only 
 the firmly outlined mouth and other expressions of a 
 strong will remained. They were unpleasantly in- 
 tensified. 
 
 It must not be inferred from this that the Princess 
 von Meerschaum was a withered hag at thirty-three. 
 She was a regal beauty when she chose to smile, and 
 far beyond the average beauty of women of thirty- 
 three at any time. But this solemn shadow that 
 oftenest hung about her face was something new. 
 Constantine Wolzonn had noted its frequent coming 
 and tardy going with an increasing sadness in his 
 heart. He had known that its cause could be nothing 
 else than what he had predicted. But his lips, fast 
 sealed by that stinging rebuke of eleven years before, 
 dreaded to open. To-day he was more than ever im- 
 pressed with the conviction that she suffered the tor- 
 ments he had warned her of, and accepted her in- 
 vitation to drink coffee with her, mentally resolving 
 that, come what might, he would speak again. 
 
 " I am her nearest living kin," said he. " She must 
 speak, she must tell me. It is my duty and hers." 
 
 Once, twice, three times he tried to speak while 
 toying with the thick, white foam that crusted the 
 smoking coffee, and at last, conceiving of no way but 
 his own blunt fashion, he came to the point at once. 
 
 "You are sad, my lady." 
 
 " Sad, cousin. I believe I was born sad ; " she smiled 
 faintly ; " but too much laughing is not becoming in a 
 lady. Qnite the contrary in a soldier, and a bachelor 
 at that. You of all men in the world should be happy, 
 yet since I was a child, and you let me romp with you 
 in the fields, I have not seen you laugh. Is it some-
 
 l8o CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 thing that runs in the blood? At this moment you are 
 not half thinking of what I am saying. Come now, 
 be cousinly and confess : what is it keeps you always 
 sad ? " 
 
 She had taken the words out of his mouth, or, still 
 more, she had told him precisely what he should have 
 said. Such an unexpected question almost threw him 
 off his guard ; but not to be baffled at the very first, 
 he selected the only part of her question that promised 
 to aid him to his point, and replied, "You are partly 
 right and partly wrong, my lady. They say the brain 
 is double, and can think two things at once. It must 
 be so, for I surely heard what you were saying, but 
 as surely I was thinking of that time, long years ago, 
 when we went, one night in Switzerland, up to that 
 old witch's den. Do you remember? " 
 
 "I have stepped on dangerous ground, "thought the 
 princess. "Will he never cease vexing me about my 
 miseries ? " But there was not a tremor in her voice as 
 she replied, " No, cousin, I hardly remember. What 
 was there peculiar about it? " 
 
 "Is it possible?" asked the general in unfeigned 
 surprise. How could he know that for months she 
 had done little else than brood herself melancholy 
 over that strange prophecy, curse the witch, wish she 
 had never gone, wonder by what mysterious power 
 she had known the future, and hope that her cousin 
 Wolzonn had long ago forgotten it? He even began 
 to explain, " There was nothing so very peculiar, ex- 
 cept in the fortune she told you," when, looking up, a 
 deep blush, that tinged the lady's face in spite of her- 
 self, told him the truth in an instant. 
 
 "Ah, yes ! I do remember now," replied the prin-
 
 SHE WAS NOT PERFECT. II 
 
 cess, perhaps suspecting that he had fathomed the 
 thoughts she was thinking. " It was a beautiful 
 moonlight night, was it not? It seems a hundred 
 years ago. And that infamous fortune, a wretched 
 lie ! It is quite time you had forgotten it." 
 
 "But I cannot, lady. It hangs about me like the 
 cross in the path of the Wandering Jew, and sits a 
 nightmare by my bed. Is it every word a lie, lady?" 
 
 " Sir ! You do not mean " 
 
 " Indeed I do not mean anything," interrupted the 
 general, trembling lest the old rebuke were on the 
 way again. " I was simply wondering if it were pos- 
 sible." 
 
 " And what is that to you if it be possible ? " 
 
 "Much, very much, lady. For " 
 
 She interrupted him, her lips quivering, the old fire 
 in her eyes, and an angry flush spreading over her 
 cheeks. "Do you pity me as a suffering mortal, 
 pray?" 
 
 This was too much. It was a pointed lie, or the 
 whole truth. Constantine Wolzonn did not think 
 twice. He would sooner have fought the whole of 
 St. Petersburg in a rebellion, but he fell upon his 
 knees before her, exclaiming, "Yes, my lady, / do 
 pity you." 
 
 The princess rose to her feet in a fury that well 
 became her. It made her calm. She pointed her 
 finger coldly at the kneeling officer, and slowly, 
 scornfully said, " Do you think I should have done 
 better to have married my fathers murderer? " 
 
 Constantine Wolzonn staggered to his feet, white as 
 the marble stand upon which his hand rested for sup- 
 port.
 
 l82 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 " Enough ! enough ! " he said. " I will say no more. 
 I am ashamed of that dreadful crime, but not ashamed 
 that I have spoken as I have to you. Forget me if 
 you will, Lady Princess von Meerschaum, you shall 
 have abundant opportunity ; but if not, you must at 
 least remember that there are circumstances in every 
 life, unknown to any other life, that do mitigate the 
 awful deeds that others see." They parted without 
 a farewell, little thinking how and where they were 
 destined to meet again. 
 
 When he was gone she sank into a chair and 
 buried her head in her hands upon the marble table. 
 "Oh my God!" she groaned, "why did I say 
 that? Have I no will? Have I no courage? When 
 Count OlendorfF told me, ten years and more ago, 
 I vowed it should never pass my lips. I was but 
 a year old when it was done. I know nothing of 
 those mitigating circumstances. Such deeds were 
 common then, and, at its worst, it has been too long 
 buried for me to think of vengeance. Oh, why should 
 I have resurrected it now of all times, when it is 
 impossible for me to think or wish for vengeance? 
 He vexed me. But it was because he loved me. 
 Is it a fault that I should punish that he has loved? 
 Ye gods ! I would it were as well a fault of the Prince 
 Reppoun ! Why will he never love me ? " 
 
 This was a wild cry, faintly as it was uttered, a 
 soul's cry, unveiling a horrible interior, a living tomb 
 the existence of which her cousin had so correctly es- 
 timated. Grief and anger together became too strong 
 for words. The head lay on the folded hands, only 
 an irregular motion from side to side indicating the 
 torturing thoughts within.
 
 SHE WAS NOT PERFECT. 183 
 
 In one sense, she was correct. The prince had early 
 discovered that his experiment in marriage was a fail- 
 ure, so far as he himself was concerned. But he had 
 vowed that from simple justice to his wife, she should 
 see in him no lack of the most scrupulous kindness, 
 never dreaming but that would fill the measure of a 
 woman's verb " to love ; " and he lived to his vow, 
 though in itself it made the duty almost irksome, and 
 effectually closed any probability of the love he yet 
 hoped would spring up. Politeness from a sense of 
 duty is not kindness ; even kindness from necessity 
 is radically opposed to love. He had sternly held to 
 principle through ten long years, though sometimes 
 sorely tempted to make some sweeping sacrifice, give 
 over the struggle, and be an exile, a hermit in some 
 far-away corner, to expiate in silence the folly (what 
 folly, he was not yet quite sure) of the memorable year 
 1821, leaving to Victor and his mother all that he 
 could leave everything, except himself. Injustice 
 to him be it said, that until the echo came back from 
 deep in the mire, he had not for one instant thought 
 of seeing Kathi Chichkini again, and that he went, 
 not as a lover for clandestine cooing in the romance 
 of the woods, but as a pilgrim to kneel at a dishonored 
 altar and plead for absolution. 
 
 Indeed the thought of leaving Victor had many 
 times acted to prevent him from thinking more deeply 
 at least of an unlimited exile. He would groan in 
 spirit, "It is all in vain that I wait and long. Oh 
 Kathi, will you wreck my life as utterly as I would have 
 wrecked yours? Merciful God, it would be a just 
 punishment if I could bear it all alone ! " But how could 
 he bear it alone? How could he voluntarily leave
 
 184 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 that boy in whom centered all the adoration and 
 admiration of his life ? Victor alone, thoroughly, 
 unwittingly, cheered many a heavy hour, and oppor- 
 tunely many a time appeared, a bright, laughing 
 reality, to disperse the almost overpowering gloom. 
 
 One such occasion was when the prince waited for 
 the arrival of his caleche for the last trip to Poland. 
 He was saying to himself " If this last venture shall 
 bring no relief, then I will not come home again," 
 when the child, followed close b}'- Gabriel, came run- 
 ning up for a boy's farewell. 
 
 "And what will you bring me, papa ?" asked he. 
 
 "And what do you want, Victor?" 
 
 " I want a pony." 
 
 In an instant thoughts of a hermitage vanished be- 
 fore the thoughts of that happy face that would greet 
 him if he returned with a pony, and he promised, "Be 
 a good boy, Victor, love mamma, and don't get angry, 
 and when I come back I will bring you a pony." 
 
 With a merry shout Victor ran away to build air- 
 castles with Gabriel ; such palaces as happy child- 
 hood is forever building, fashioned after that city of 
 palaces, with gates of one great pearl, and streets of 
 virgin gold, and trees of life, and flowers that never 
 fade, growing on crystal rivers; palaces where no 
 death is planned, neither sorrow nor crying, in a land 
 where night and winter never come. Beautiful man- 
 sions ! would they might keep them. Beautiful homes ! 
 would they might live in them. Alas, that it should 
 be so ! that the hands of the little architects must grow 
 rough and callous on the brick and sandstone of the 
 world, till their Golden Tower, like that of Thebes, is 
 but a precious treasured ruin of
 
 SHE WAS NOT PERFECT. 185 
 
 "The lost, the unforgotten, 
 Though the world be oft forgot ; " 
 
 and the memory of the flowers comes back again 
 only like the breath of the coffee groves as it is 
 wafted in dreams about the Cingalese bondman pil- 
 lowed on his iron scoop in the diamond mines of 
 South America. 
 
 It had indeed seemed "a year" to the boy while 
 he was waiting for the pony ; to his mother a strangely 
 long time too. Something had filled her soul with 
 unaccountable misgivings ; possibly it was only his 
 absence at such a season, coming without warning or 
 explanation. Sometimes, with a shudder, she had 
 almost asked herself if it were possible that she had 
 driven him away ; and she watered this fear, as she 
 had watered many a fear and disappointment in her 
 life, with generous floods of tears. Tears are an 
 excellent advocate of woman versus man ; but there 
 is a subtler charm in the cause of woman for man, 
 that, like the sacred gem of India, is brighter in 
 shadow than in sunlight and fairer in storm than in 
 calm, a smile! Try it, my lady, and you shall 
 succeed. 
 
 She tried it afterward, and did succeed ; but to her 
 dying hour she did not know it was a victory. 
 
 She could not, if she would, have found a cause 
 for complaint against her lord. He was precisely 
 what he was upon their wedding-day, what she 
 had been warned that he would be, and what he had 
 been every day of the ten years since, the very 
 essence and perfection of politeness, nothing more. 
 In a sense her love for him had grown stronger, but 
 it had become a sort of desperate love.
 
 l86 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 "He shall love me!" she declared, rising and 
 walking toward the fountain. "The old Swiss for- 
 tune-teller has been too true so far ; but I will con- 
 quer him. Have I not already bent every energy of 
 woman to the end that he should love? And what 
 have I been to him? Just as his horse and hound, 
 a dire necessity of life, to be petted and pampered 
 just because I belonged to him. Should I be satisfied 
 with this? Have I not fondled his feet in my love, 
 that I might win just one caress ? Is it because I am 
 not perfect? Then Heaven help me, I will be per- 
 fect ! That man shall bow to me, if it must be to do 
 it that he shall stoop to shed a tear upon my corpse ! 
 But stay I just remember what a sting there is in 
 jealousy. It may be I have been too perfect, after 
 all. I have at last succeeded in driving off even my 
 last, my truest and best friend, Constantine Wolzonn. 
 Why should I thus deprive myself of every one be- 
 cause deprived of him? It may be that is not the 
 way to win the heart of man." 
 
 It may seem madness to assert that in a sense the 
 Princess von Meerschaum was right, and yet she 
 was. Far be it from any honorable soul to inculcate 
 jealousy as a means to love ; but in this particular 
 case, Victor Reppoun, though he sought ideal per- 
 fection, could well have stopped short of the goal to 
 have loved his wife, had he for one moment thought 
 of her as she was, and realized the treasure he had 
 won so easily. Even Kathi Chichkini had first to 
 attract his attention before she gained his admiration, 
 innocently as she did both ; but the circumstances of 
 his courtship and marriage had been such that in 
 truth the Prince von Meerschaum had never known
 
 SHE WAS NOT PERFECT. 187 
 
 his wife. He readily discovered that she was in face 
 and figure fit mistress for Castle Foam ; that she was 
 gentle, kind, devoted to her duties, faithful to her 
 vows. That was just what a wife should be. Beyond 
 that he had thought of her only as a self-imposed 
 barrier between himself and Kathi Chichkini, and a 
 necessity to the house of Meerschaum. How could 
 that encourage admiration ? Something must surely 
 attract his attention to other charms. She possessed 
 them in abundance. If nothing else would do it, she 
 was right in thinking of the sting there is in jealousy. 
 
 The air was growing damp with evening, and the 
 sky a faint red and amber hi the west, not so bright 
 and warm as in the summer-time, but she still stood 
 by the fountain in the glass-walled conservatory. The 
 thought of General Wolzonn had driven others from 
 her mind. She was gazing dreamily at the flashing 
 fish seeking their nooks in the large basin, stand- 
 ing beside a pedestal from which, to please some ill- 
 understood fancy, a stuffed flamingo had been re- 
 moved, making room for a large figure of Venus sup- 
 porting the open shell. Her arm rested on the foot 
 of the marble goddess. 
 
 "What a life," she sighed, "devoid of trouble! 
 Silenus was right: 'The best thing for a mortal is 
 not to be born ; the next, to die quick!)'.'" 
 
 What a philosophy for a princess of thirty-three ! 
 She realized the fact and added, " How strange that 
 I should think so ! I who cried to God that the ideal 
 of my happiness was to be the wife of Prince Rep- 
 poun ! I who presented Father Charlovitz with five 
 thousand rubles because he won for me that place ! 
 I who have been his wife these ten years, and in the
 
 l88 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 midst of boundless luxury cannot count one angry 
 word ! I who can drive my last friend from my door, 
 calling him a murderer ! Oh, I would be a child of 
 Phorcys and Ceto, even in serpent locks, to have some 
 power upon the man I love ! I would welcome the 
 beckoning of Mors, if I knew that he would shed one 
 tear! Oh, Constantine Wolzonn, come back again! 
 I did not mean to drive you off! I hate the horde of 
 noblemen that kiss my hand because I am the wife of 
 Prince Reppoun ! I want a friend, such a friend as 
 you have been ! But no ; you'll never come again ! 
 You are my father's murderer ! " 
 
 She shuddered. A curl fell from its fastening and 
 touched the water ; her face was bent so close to it. She 
 stood erect, and was pressing the water from the lock 
 of her light hair, when she instinctively realized that 
 a shadow deeper than the twilight fell over the foun- 
 tain from toward the west behind her, and turning 
 suddenly, exclaimed, "Good heavens ! Monsieur von 
 Bremen ! How came you here ? I did not look for 
 such an apparition."
 
 WELL DONE ! " 189 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 "WELL DONE!" 
 
 "TT 7ELL, well! I am here at last," said Count 
 
 VV Olendorff, as his coach -wheels rested on 
 Isak Bridge, and a head was thrust into the window. 
 
 "Yes er I see," answered the head, which, with 
 the -shoulders and arms and legs beneath it, consti- 
 tuted much of Albrecht von Bremen ; " and er and 
 particularly last too, if I know the time." 
 
 " A little behindhand ? I suppose so. But you've 
 not been waiting long, hey ? " 
 
 "Ah, no, not long; an hour is not so long when 
 compared with a lifetime, as it seemed this chilly 
 afternoon." 
 
 The old man's eyes were so heavy with years that 
 he did not note the drops of perspiration not yet dry 
 upon the speaker's forehead. 
 
 " Well, well, I've been well occupied, to say the 
 least. I've found a key that will unlock the door that 
 you and I've been tugging at so long. Get in !" 
 
 The Dane seated himself. 
 
 "Let them drive me to er er yes, yes, Castle 
 Schaum." 
 
 The master passed the word mechanically, won- 
 dering what the Dane could be wishing for at the
 
 IpO CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 Foam, when he added, extending his hand, " And 
 now, my lord, for the er the key." 
 
 " The key ! Ha, ha ! That was a metaphor." 
 
 "A metaphor ! Oh er yes, I see ; a metaphor. 
 Well, let us have the metaphor." 
 
 " I have come from the Princess von Meerschaum." 
 
 " Princess Reppoun ? " 
 
 " The same." 
 
 " Proceed, my lord, proceed." 
 
 "And find already buried in the heart of the fam- 
 ily one who can materially aid you in your plans. 
 I am sure of it, little as I know what those plans 
 may be." 
 
 " And it's well for them and me that you do not 
 know," the Dane observed mentally ; but aloud, 
 " You say this marvel is buried. Can we resurrect 
 him without a witch of Endor?" 
 
 "Silence, man! I tell you he is none other than 
 their Greek priest Charlovitz. Sly fellow ! The 
 princess told me she'd go on a pilgrimage if he sent 
 her." 
 
 "I wish he would," thought Albrecht von Bremen, 
 but all he said was, " H'm a pilgrimage." 
 
 "Do you see?" exclaimed the old man nervously. 
 
 " H'm er yes, I see ! " 
 
 " And what do you think of it? " 
 
 " A Greek priest is surely a sly fellow, you are 
 right there ; and as for a woman on a pilgrimage, I 
 hardly know what to think. Let them drive down 
 to the village, however. The fellow may be of some 
 service, for the -plans are ripe at last" 
 
 Count OlendorfF started like one shot, but dared not 
 ask a question. He had learned that to question
 
 WELL DONE ! Ipl 
 
 Albrecht von Bremen was like calling on an echo, 
 until he chose to speak. Only one's own words came 
 back to him. 
 
 They reached the lovely little village of Schaum- 
 burg. History proudly reported that it was Peter the 
 Great himself who honored it with a visit of inspec- 
 tion when completed, and christened it " Schaum- 
 burg." It had increased in beauty every year, and 
 the villagers were of the wealthiest, proudest, and 
 happiest serfs of Russia. Such a serfdom they would 
 have been foolish to exchange. Yet as a fact, the 
 largest village revenues of Castle Foam came in re- 
 turn from Schaumburg. 
 
 It was the closing of a holiday. The merry voices 
 of children sounded through the streets. The stream 
 of deep, black water, cold and clear, that flowed 
 swiftly through the village, dashed against the tiny 
 abutments of its bridges as though it too were keep- 
 ing holiday. Garlands of harvest-flowers hung in 
 the windows. The children wore tiny sheaves upon 
 their shoulders. It was the " Thanksgiving Day " 
 of Russia. On the main park a cluster of children 
 were winding the last coil of the day's pleasure in 
 the old-time harvest-dance, where the boys stood on 
 one side, the girls on the other, of the "charmed cir- 
 cle." A boy tossed his cap in the air, calling the 
 name of a girl opposite. If she accepted the chal- 
 lenge, she caught the cap, waving her handkerchief, 
 the corner of which he took in his hand, and holding 
 it high in the air, the two wound round and round 
 each other and round the circle. The couple who 
 longest kept the ring without a smile or word, won
 
 Ip2 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 the badges, that were proudly worn until next Har- 
 vest Day. 
 
 How many little hearts have been bent, how many 
 broken, how. many romances begun, how many love- 
 knots tied, how many bitter disappointments, and not 
 a word spoken, in those " charmed circles " on harvest- 
 days ! 
 
 In the distance a priest was walking, with the in- 
 evitable swing of the priesthood, toward the church, 
 from whose tower a silvery chime began to mingle 
 with the clear, cool evening air its vesper melody, 
 calling over Schaumburg that the sun must not go 
 down upon the wrath of any one till it had been con- 
 fessed in the Good Lord's sanctorum, and hallowed 
 absolution given by the All Holy to the penitent. 
 
 " Life of life from Jesus' hand, 
 Light from out the Better Land." 
 
 It softened even Albrecht von Bremen's hard heart 
 for an instant, but he had too important business on 
 hand for it to remain soft long. Indeed, he had been 
 rearranging his plans a little to admit the priest, and 
 had found that after all he could be exceedingly use- 
 ful if won over. 
 
 " Is that the priest er er What did you say was 
 the name of him ? " 
 
 "Baumgarten! Baumgarten ! No, no ! Charlovitz, 
 that's the name at least, and that is the man, I think. 
 It is long enough for him." 
 
 " H'm then perhaps I'll er er " 
 
 " Walk ! " exploded from the old man's lips, who 
 was quite in the habit of helping the Dane, when he 
 could, in his life-struggle after words.
 
 "WELL DONE ! ' 193 
 
 "Exactly so, my lord, exactly so;" and suiting his 
 action, the Dane dropped from the coach and walked, 
 while the count was driven away. 
 
 At a rapid pace, it did not take long to stand upon 
 the shadow of the square black cap, when the Dane 
 assumed a more careless attitude. 
 
 The priest was reading half aloud. This for report, 
 but his thoughts were wandering from the dry husks 
 of letters. He started like one awaking from a 
 dream when the Dane said, " This, I believe, is Father 
 Charlovitz? " 
 
 " I am a priest, sir, and my name is Heinrich Char- 
 lovitz." 
 
 "Very good. Count von Bremen, at your service. 
 May I speak with the priest without encroaching upon 
 the tenor of his thoughts ? " 
 
 " So your speech runs as his thoughts run upon 
 holy things," the priest answered, smiling. 
 
 " Upon sad things at least, good father, which are 
 indeed next kin to holy things." 
 
 " Though hypocrites are of a sad countenance." 
 
 They had reached the church. 
 
 "Must you turn in, good father? Come this side a 
 moment, where not so many are passing." 
 
 Under the spreading limbs of a skeleton tree, whose 
 glorious midsummer garments lay in a brown drabble 
 about their feet, the two talked together. 
 
 It was a hard task the Dane had undertaken, that 
 of reversing the will of a strong man well satisfied 
 with his present notions. He realized this thoroughly, 
 for almost the only book he had ever studied, and he 
 had spent his life in study, was the great book which 
 God wrote, of many chapters, and every one of them a 
 13
 
 194 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 book, beating, throbbing, living, moving chapters; 
 a book whose title is in heaven, whose introductory 
 thought was the dust of the earth and the image of 
 God, with the breath of life breathed into it when the 
 morning stars sang together, and whose conclusion 
 shall be when the heavens shall be rolled up as a 
 scroll, and the earth, with its dust and its ashes, be 
 marked with a great " FINIS." 
 
 In fact, the Dane was a master-interpreter of human 
 nature. 
 
 " You may judge of my errand yourself," he said, 
 "the saddest that could well be : the troubles between 
 the lord and lady of Castle Foam, and the certainty 
 that the prince, as illegitimate, is soon to be thrust into 
 the cushionless street to make room for the rightful 
 heir." 
 
 " Sir count ! you astound me. Is it possible that you 
 speak, and that I hear you with these ears? " 
 
 " I fancy so. 'Tis ragged, but 'tis true ; true as this 
 book of yours." He tapped the book the priest had 
 been reading, into which he had shut his middle 
 finger. 
 
 "Let us walk," said the priest, " the very trees have 
 ears." 
 
 " I will explain to you briefly. The present prince 
 is son of the former prince by an actress, '"hat actress 
 is still living, and living in Petersburg. This I simply 
 say, to prove later. She could not rear a child. The 
 wife of the prince had given him no heir in ten years 
 of marriage. Women are strangely wrought upon by 
 their legal lords. The princess consented to adopt this 
 child in a secret manner that should result in her claim- 
 ing it as her own, before it was two months old. No
 
 " WELL DONE ! " 195 
 
 matter what our preferences may be, it is not right 
 that he should hold this place." 
 
 The priest shook his head. " But think of the down- 
 fall of the most saintly princess, who in soul and na- 
 ture is so eminently innocent." Perhaps he was think- 
 ing of the five thousand rubles. 
 
 " Innocent, yes ! But living a sad life to-day." 
 
 " I have feared it," said the priest. 
 
 This was all the Dane could have asked. He had, 
 wholly without knowledge, made the statement on the 
 ground that in all probability neither one side nor the 
 other was too well known to be contradicted, and find- 
 ing he was unexpectedly upheld, he at once enlarged 
 upon the first statement. 
 
 " 1 his would give her the freedom she is too woman- 
 ly to seek, granting her a divorce, and when once 
 the shock was over, you must know she would be 
 vastly happier again as countess on the estates of 
 Kramareff." 
 
 " But she would take the prince with her." 
 
 "Well and good, if she could be happy so," said the 
 Dane, gathering courage and hope of success with 
 each new question, at the same time shaking his head; 
 which the priest might take as he chose, but which in 
 reality meant that that thing would never be. 
 
 "But what of the little church?" asked the priest. 
 "The house of Reppoun is strongly German and 
 probably Roman Catholic." 
 
 Von Bremen could scarce restrain a smile. "Bravo ! " 
 he said to himself. " The noble soul begins to trem- 
 ble. Self! last, mightiest and full when overcome." 
 And then aloud, "True, good father, I know not who 
 the successor may be. I am but acting for justice
 
 10.6 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 under the instruction of an agent of the man who 
 claims the right. But as there are certain things which 
 one in your position can do to make such a change 
 more easily and quietly accomplished, because the 
 laborer is worthy of his hire, I am instructed to say 
 to you that justice must be done, and that it will b2 
 done, whether you and I act for or against it ; but 
 that if you can, and some suggestions will be given 
 you, and you do help this matter through, if, at the 
 end, you are not satisfied with your position, you 
 shall be granted the place of Patriarch in Syria, chief 
 priest in the church of the Holy Sepulcher. My 
 power to make this offer I will show you to your 
 full satisfaction before a step is taken ; and also that 
 if you are satisfied to remain, the sum of five thousand 
 rubles will be paid you for the service." The priest 
 started. He had received five thousand rubles to 
 place the countess's daughter there ; strange, strange 
 freak that he should now be offered five thousand 
 rubles to turn her out again ! The Dane supposed 
 the start was because his sacred nostrils sniffed the 
 odor of a bribe, and began at once to cover it with 
 perfumed oil, lest it should be offensive. 
 
 M That is no bribe, good father, that offers to him 
 that overcometh a crown of life. An evil-minded man 
 alone would charge that our religion is selfishness, 
 because he presses toward the mark with greatest 
 zeal who sees most clearly the prize of his high calling. 
 You may consider yourself fortunate that you may 
 please even one man in the cause of duty. It is 
 oftener that the friend of God goes through this world 
 friendless than full of friends."
 
 " WELL DONE ! " Ip7 
 
 The priest almost inaudibly quoted that wretchedly 
 distorted Greek requiem 
 
 " ' Hosts on the earth and hosts below 
 
 Follow the sinner's shroud with their laudations loud, 
 
 Down to the wide gate where many do go. 
 
 Few on the earth follow the dead 
 
 Up to the narrow gate where the bright angels wait, 
 
 Bearing the palm branch and crown for his head ! ' " 
 
 " Exactly so, good father. You are right. Exactly 
 so ! And I remember a story," said the Dane, " of one 
 living long ago, a priest, whose meat was locust-bread, 
 and honey from the wild bees. They said, 'Beware 
 of him i He has a devil.' Another priest of the 
 same order coming directly after him, ate and drank 
 with those people like one of themselves, and they 
 said of him, ' A gluttonous man and a wine-bibber.' 
 No, father ! it is impossible to please. We must per- 
 form our duty, and if rewarded instead of blasphemed 
 we are fortunate." 
 
 " I have often read the story," said the priest, 
 smiling. 
 
 " Exactly so, good father, exactly so ! And you 
 comprehend my words to-night?" 
 
 A bending, tottering cripple, as she hobbled past 
 them on her knotted canes, caught the sentence K You 
 comprehend my words to-night?" and strained her 
 old ears to listen further, for she was the twilight 
 raven of Schaumburg, and if any one among the 
 women had a bit of information she wished to spread 
 through the village, her first step was to tell Thurnelda 
 and make her promise never to repeat it. But the 
 wind rushed through the leaves, and she lost the 
 priest's answer.
 
 198 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 He placed his reverend finger beside his reverend 
 nose, and said very gravely, " I comprehend the 
 count, and will act as is best and right." He put 
 " best " first, at which the Dane winked to his inner 
 man, and after taking his leave and promising to see 
 the priest again in a day or two, when he should have 
 thought over the matter, he placed his irreverend finger 
 beside his irreverend nose and said to himself, " There 
 is not much question which way the priest will think 
 it best to act. These sacerdotal robes turn inside out 
 right easily. I must look sharp and not depend too 
 much, however, for doubtless they turn back again as 
 easily;" and buttoning his coat around him, for the 
 evening coming on was cold, he shuffled away through 
 the dry leaves toward Castle Foam, whose proud dome 
 and turrets loomed grandly toward heaven from the 
 hill before him, the four tapering minarets rising from 
 the main tower yet tinged with the dying glory of the 
 sun that had left the valley below in darkness. 
 
 The priest made no move to enter the church, though 
 the villagers were kneeling in many places about the 
 building, waiting for the evening services. 
 
 Father Charlovitz opened his book ; but, as is often 
 the case with the priest's Bible-reading, the words he 
 repeated were far from the page on which his eyes 
 rested. 
 
 " 'A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, 
 And loving favor rather than silver and gold.' 
 
 "What is the meaning of all this, I wonder? Some 
 mystery underlies it which I must solve before I act. 
 One thing at least I swear : Never shall word or act
 
 WELL DONE 
 
 I 99 
 
 of mine lead to your injury, Lady Princess von Meer- 
 schaum, so help me, God of Love !" 
 
 He closed the book, and entered the church, not 
 without a premonitory twinge or two of conscience, 
 and an inclination to hide his face as the warm light 
 fell over it, and the old black-eyed Thurnelda seemed 
 looking him through and through. 
 
 Von Bremen found his way to the castle. Through 
 the glass of the conservatory he saw the princess by 
 the fountain. He entered noiselessly by the conserva- 
 tory-door and stood behind her. He was unnerved 
 after his struggle with the priest, an easy task though 
 it may have appeared to the looker-on, and was nerv- 
 ously ransacking his brain for the most politic way to 
 announce himself, when she turned suddenly upon 
 him, exclaiming : 
 
 " Good heavens ! Monsieur von Bremen, how came 
 you here? I did not look for such an apparition." 
 
 To say the least, if Albrecht von Bremen's powers 
 did ever become weary, they were never exhausted. 
 He had yet to find a time when action could be re- 
 quired of him when he could not act. He fell instantly 
 upon one knee, and clasping his hands, said, in a 
 voice that might have been a child's, so plaintive, 
 pleading for mercy : 
 
 "Yes, my Lady Princess, Albrecht von Bremen 
 is here, an unexpected, undesired apparition, ab- 
 horred, detested. But he is penitent, and supplicates 
 your mercy, lady. He is driven by a relentless agony 
 to bend to the dust before your feet a head that never 
 yet was bowed for pardon. Remorse, the ghost of 
 an inordinate passion too tamely christened 'Love,'
 
 200 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 has dragged him here to ask to be forgiven. Oh, I 
 have suffered enough ! Have " 
 
 Here the princess interrupted him. Will the reader 
 recall the position of the wife of Prince Reppoun? her 
 solitude ; her regret at having turned away the friend- 
 ship of Constantine Wolzonn ; her longing for a friend ; 
 her query if indeed she might not win her husband's 
 love more easily had she other admirers, and the 
 fact that the first passions of her girlish heart pas- 
 sions that perhaps were only fancies, though she had 
 thought them love had been stirred by Albrecht von 
 Bremen, that first love that a woman's heart never 
 can forget? Will he also remember that in the most 
 romantic, most unsuspicious, most gentle hour of all 
 the twenty-four, this man, never ill- looking except as 
 he looked ill of his own will, supplied with abundant 
 beauty of a certain stamp and a powerful and attrac- 
 tive magnetism, knelt at her feet? that he was wise, 
 and spoke slowly, asking no answer till the first shock 
 had ample time to wear away, before" he condemns 
 her as feeble-hearted or a fool? that she silenced 
 him with a gesture of her hand, and in a voice that was 
 kind, though not indeed extravagantly friendly, said, 
 " You have made far too much of it, Monsieur von 
 Bremen. For aught of anger I have ever had, I can 
 easily say 'forgiven'"? And yet she asked herself, 
 half doubtingly, "Can the leopard change his spots, 
 or the Ethiopian his skin ? " and added, " or was I 
 unjust to him in Switzerland?" Time had deadened 
 the edge of the anger she had felt. 
 
 There are conditions under which oil and water 
 will flow together. These were fulfilled in. that au- 
 tumn evening in the conservatory of Castle Foam,
 
 WELL DONE ! 2OI 
 
 and startled by the transition, the princess asked her- 
 self, "What am I doing?" But it was already done. 
 The Dane had pressed his lips upon the extended 
 hand, and risen to his feet. The two stood for a 
 moment face to face in the silent shadows, while the 
 fountain trickled its merry, dripping melody, and the 
 flowers around them swung to Eros censers of ravish- 
 ing perfume. 
 
 "May God bless you, lady " said the Dane at last ; 
 " and may I have opportunity to show my gratitude 
 more potently than in words. Can I serve you in any 
 way?" 
 
 "Thanks, Monsieur von Bremen, no. Yet, if 
 you please, you may stay to dinner with me, and let 
 me show my forgiveness by hospitality." 
 
 "You would be hospitable, lady, to an enemy. 
 To-day I must decline ; but to-morrow, if it please 
 your ladyship." 
 
 " To-morrow let it be, at this hour, Monsieur von 
 Bremen." 
 
 He bowed to leave her ; but as she turned, her hair 
 caught upon an orange-tree. That over-prolific hair 
 was a source of annoyance sometimes. It became 
 more snarled as she attempted to free it, and she tore 
 it off, breaking a leaf, a flower, and a thorn with it. 
 
 " Tangles never come out for me," she said. " I 
 could fly sometimes, they vex me so." 
 
 "That is quite unnecessary," observed the Dane. 
 "Let me unravel this." 
 
 He took the lock in his hand and began to extri- 
 cate the leaf and flower, when, "Ha!" he dropped 
 the curl. 
 
 "What is the matter?" asked the princess.
 
 202 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 " Nothing, my lady, only a thorn," he replied, and 
 finished his task. 
 
 " How delightfully patient you are ! " said the prin- 
 cess with a faint smile. "You would be an invaluable 
 friend to me. I am forever getting into tangles." 
 
 The Dane had worked silently, not because he was 
 patient, but because he was superstitious, and was 
 smothering a curse that "only a thorn" hidden in my 
 lady's hair had driven to his lips. 
 
 He dropped the thorn on the floor, or intended to, 
 and putting his foot on something very like a thorn, 
 ground the curse into it. Then looking up with the 
 same soft smile, he asked, " Will your ladyship give 
 me this leaf as a palm of victory? " 
 
 " With pleasure, monsieur, or a better." 
 
 " None could be better," he said, making a low bow 
 and kissing her hand again. " And now until to- 
 morrow evening, ch &ten, till to-morrow evening. Au 
 revotr, my lady, Princess von Meerschaum." 
 
 "Adieu, monsieur." 
 
 The princess turned and closed a window by the 
 orange-tree. The wind must have blown it open a 
 finger-breadth. She did not see a figure, wrapped in 
 a cloak as black as the night itself had already be- 
 come, creep stealthily away from the window, or hear 
 a low voice mutter, "Eh bien, to-morrow evening, eh 
 bien ! " and add, " There appears a tangle deeper than 
 thai in my lady's hair." 
 
 Having once entered upon this new venture, the 
 novelty pleased the princess well ; or, more properly, 
 having once yielded to the spell of the Dane's subtle 
 magnetism, it was easy to yield more and more, and 
 already she enjoyed the thought of meeting him the 
 next evening.
 
 " WELL DONE ! " 2O3 
 
 As for the Dane, he had restrained himself till out 
 of the castle, walking down the long road through 
 the park to the great gate on the highway, where the 
 count's coach was to be waiting for him. There his 
 pace quickened, and his face reverted to its lines and 
 wrinkles laid by innate deceitfulness. A hard, cold 
 smile broke over his face, as he hung his hands by 
 his thumbs in the pockets of his pantaloons, and his 
 head well upon one side, and his eyes half closed 
 themselves. 
 
 He threw the orange-leaf on the walk ; but return- 
 ing with the remark, " It would be just my luck to 
 have her find that leaf the first thing in the morn- 
 ing," he calmly hunted for it, found it, dropped it 
 into the pocket of his overcoat, and resumed his 
 rapid pace. The carriage-door stood open. For- 
 getting the dignity of his years, he leaped in, and 
 rolled over in the robes, convulsed with laughter. 
 
 "Yes, yes," he exclaimed, "I've done it at last!" 
 and rubbed his hands. "It's a new idea of mine, 
 and it works like a charm. Sugar is better than 
 salt. 'Head 'em off' is better than run on behind. 
 Dinner to-morrow night. Bah ! That reminds me 
 of the ball at the palace later. She's going of course, 
 and I'm going. Never mind ! Better not offer to go 
 with her ; she might refuse. f Step by step,' Albrecht. 
 ' Step by step.' Ah, a rich character is that priest 
 Charlovitz ! He will be very useful if he be useful 
 at all ; and not much in the way if he be not. I " 
 
 He stopped suddenly, for " only a thorn," which had 
 not fallen to the floor but caught in his overcoat, 
 stabbed him again as he rubbed his hands about in 
 self-congratulation.
 
 204 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 " Strange omen that, for the second time,'' he said. 
 M Curse the blasted thorn ! " and he began looking 
 for it. But at that moment the coach halted in Count 
 Olendorff's court; halted so suddenly that he was 
 thrown from the seat down among the robes, and in 
 extricating himself he quite forgot the thorn. 
 
 Unannounced, he opened the door of Count Olen- 
 dorff's library. But the old man was wide awake, 
 and in no mood to be over-easily provoked. 
 
 " Well, well ! Here you are at last. I began to 
 think that Father Baumgarten " 
 
 "Charlovitz, my lord." 
 
 "Charlovitz, yes, Charlovitz. Why am I always 
 mixing an orchard and a rustic?" 
 
 " Very little difference, on the whole, my lord, very 
 little difference. One drops the fruit, the other picks 
 it up. Call him Baumgarten if you choose." 
 
 " No Charlovitz Father Charlovitz. What was 
 I saying ? " 
 
 " You had begun to think that Father " 
 
 "Yes, yes, I remember. lam growing old so 
 very old ; " and he passed his wrinkled hand over his 
 wrinkled forehead, thought of the two-and-eighty 
 years that were registered there, and quite forgot to 
 finish his sentence. 
 
 "You had begun to think that Father Charlovitz " 
 
 " Had converted you, and you were waiting to be 
 baptized," exclaimed the old man in an explosive 
 way, as though anxious to get the whole sentence 
 out before he forgot the end of it. Then he shook 
 in a hoarse, crabbed, spasmodic laugh, and Albrecht 
 von Bremen smiled, but not at the count's joke. 
 
 When the Dane's coat, hat, and gloves were thrown
 
 " WELL DONE ! ' 2O5 
 
 into the corner, and he, seated in the arm-chair which 
 the count had occupied, because it was the best and 
 easiest chair in the room, was sipping the count's 
 wine, a drop of good-natured blood touching his 
 heart persuaded him to say what he had to say, with- 
 out waiting longer. 
 
 "My lord!" 
 
 "Hey? " said the old man, looking up from a glass 
 he was filling. 
 
 "Oh er nothing in particular, nothing in par- 
 ticular. Go on pouring out your wine ; I was only 
 saying that I had seen the priest." 
 
 "Priest Charlovitz, of Meerschaum? " 
 
 " Priest Charlovitz, of Meerschaum." 
 
 "I suppose so, yes. And what came of it? " 
 
 " I told him of our plans." 
 
 "Not all at once?" 
 
 " No, not all at once ; but about as fast as I could 
 talk and he could listen." 
 
 " And what said the priest? " 
 
 " That he would not hinder them." 
 
 "Possible?" 
 
 " Possible, and more. He will take part in them." 
 
 " The devil he will ! " 
 
 " Yes ; and the devil and he together will make a 
 strong team, my lord." 
 
 "Great Jove ! With him you can do anything." 
 
 "With whom, my lord, the devil, the priest, or 
 great Jove ? " 
 
 " Fie ! fie ! This is no laughing matter." 
 
 " Your lordship is correct. Let us chant a psalm 
 together to solemnize ourselves." 
 
 " Be gone ! But how about the princess? Lovely
 
 206 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 woman ! Is there no way she can be kept on the 
 estates, something like the serfs, when the prince is 
 turned away ? " 
 
 " Have courage, my lord, you shall marry her yet. 
 Or I will for you," he added, in a tone so low that the 
 old ears heard nothing. 
 
 " Good Albrecht ! good Albrecht ! Bring it about ! 
 bring it about, and you shall be well rewarded." 
 
 "I have succeeded so far as this, my lord," said 
 Albrecht von Bremen, searching the pile in the corner 
 for the pocket that contained the leaf. w Look here ! 
 HA ! " Laying down the overcoat again, only a thorn 
 pricked his finger. " A cursed omen that, for the third 
 time ! When I speak with the princess it stabs me, when 
 I think of the priest it stabs me, when I talk with the 
 count it stabs me again. Into the fire, damned thorn !" 
 and into the fire it went. Only a blue flutter in the 
 flame for an instant and it was gone forever, yet 
 Albrecht von Bremen had feared it as though it were 
 a god. 
 
 " What did you say you had? " the old man asked. 
 
 "Oh er yes, I remember ; this: A leaf ! Em- 
 blem of er well, of fidelity, or something else, 
 placed there by the princess's own fingers." 
 
 The old man shrugged his shoulders. " Be careful 
 you don't tamper with her heart, Albrecht ! Leave 
 that for me to do." 
 
 "Jealous already," said the Dane. "But what do 
 you think of it all?" 
 
 "It was well done," said Count Olendorff.
 
 MY WIFE. 207 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 MY WIFE. 
 
 EARLY the next morning Father Charlovitz was 
 in his little study, built like a dove's cote, under 
 the low eaves in the rear of the little church, sitting 
 by a small round table, wandering through the ar- 
 chives dc rcsprit. 
 
 Beside the table, two chairs, a small library, one 
 little window, a little corner closet for wine and bis- 
 cuit and gowns, and a little hearth for fire, made, on 
 the whole, a very respectable study. 
 
 A bright fire had crackled and blazed on the hearth 
 when he sat down, but long ago only lines of white 
 ashes, rounded like the sticks, showed how they had 
 lain across each other, and far down in the middle of 
 the ash-coats faint glimmers of red appeared, as a 
 chance draught swept up chimney. 
 
 The sunbeams did away with the need of a fire, and 
 poured through the little window in a way to indicate 
 high noon in the village. 
 
 Books lay open on the table ; paper, pen and ink 
 beside them ; but the paper was covered with hiero- 
 glyphics, a,nd the books were unread. 
 
 The determination to write seized the good father. 
 Sermons were just coming into vogue in the most 
 civilized of the churches, and such original men as
 
 2O8 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 Father Charlovitz were well pleased with it. He 
 wiped his pen carefully upon a pincushion, where 
 many blots and blurs told a sad story of unparliamen- 
 tary usefulness, and began upon a sermon ; the same 
 sermon that he began to write six hours before on the 
 hieroglyphic sheet. 
 
 For fifteen minutes the scratch and scrawl of a busy 
 pen filled the little room with noise, that seemed like 
 a cannonading to the priest. Then all was still again, 
 and the pen was diving deep into a crack in the table. 
 
 A rap sounded on the little door. 
 
 The priest frowned. 
 
 " What unnecessary interruption is this, I wonder? " 
 he asked himself as he opened the door. 
 
 A farmer from some distance out of the village 
 wanted this representative of the Great Shepherd to 
 look at a little lamb of the flock that lay dying. 
 
 "We've not much money," said the farmer, apolo- 
 getically. 
 
 Father Charlovitz had a kind heart, and answered 
 as gently as a woman, "Then I shall come for little. 
 I will be there sharp at three o'clock." 
 
 He shut the door, and again began to write. An- 
 other rap and another frown, which disappeared, how- 
 ever, when he opened the door and found a girl of 
 about eighteen asking admittance. 
 
 "Come in, little Marie," he said, smiling; "I have 
 looked for you." 
 
 She crossed herself, left her wooden shoes at the 
 door. Her little feet were as brown as the sun could 
 burn them, and clean as water could wash them, and 
 treading daintily the polished floor, she took a long 
 basket from her shoulders, leaning it against the wall
 
 MY WIFE. 209 
 
 as a gentleman would have done with his cane. Then 
 she made another courtesy, crossed herself again, and 
 sat down on a stool the priest had placed before the 
 fire for her. Way down in the depths of that long 
 basket there was a baby snugly rolled away. 
 
 "Mother said I shouldn't come," the girl began, 
 " and that I'd no business to be running to your Rever- 
 ence so much. But I knew he'd be there for the 
 money before night, so when she sent me out with 
 the baby to work in the garden, I just left the hoe and 
 ran away." 
 
 There was not a child in Schaumburg afraid to 
 empty her entire little heart to Father Charlovitz. 
 He smiled and replied, " It is a dangerous thing to 
 disobey your mother, little Marie, but more danger- 
 ous to disobey your priest. I told you to come yes- 
 terday." 
 
 " And so I did," the girl replied quickly, not at all 
 frightened by the rebuke ; " but as I crossed the 
 bridge, down by the park, a great man's coach stopped 
 right in front of me, and one man got out and ran till 
 he caught up with you ; so I didn't come any more." 
 
 Heinrich Charlovitz bent his head unnecessarily 
 low over the fire as he put the fresh sticks on, for the 
 child was looking at him, and young eyes see more 
 than older ones sometimes. 
 
 He asked carelessly, "And how of the others in the 
 coach?" 
 
 "There was only one, good father, an old man 
 with very white hair and a white beard on his upper 
 lip ; and the coach turned round, and he was driven 
 away." 
 
 The priest began to blow the fire. " Count Olen- 
 H
 
 2IO CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 dorff," he muttered. " There's no good comes when 
 he 's a finger in. I had suspected that ' Eh bien, till 
 to-morrow evening,' which now means to-night." 
 
 He went hastily to the corner-closet, and took out 
 the purse which the princess had given him. 
 
 " Here is the money to pay your rent, Marie," he 
 said. "You may take enough to pay it for a year. 
 It is from our good lady. You must pray for her, 
 Marie." 
 
 " Indeed, good father, w r e always do. Mother says 
 we are never to forget, as it is about all we can do for 
 them at the castle, who are so kind to us." 
 
 " That is good teaching, Marie ; and God will bless 
 you and them too for your prayers. He, up there in the 
 bright blue sky, is no respecter of persons, and thinks 
 as much of the prayers little Marie prays at the altar, 
 as the great lady at the castle thinks of those beau- 
 tiful pearls she wore on her wedding-day. Do you 
 remember it, so long ago?" 
 
 " Indeed I do, good father. Mother took me up to 
 the castle with the rest. Will the angels in heaven 
 be so beautiful and wear such pearls?" asked the 
 girl, as she shouldered the basket and baby. 
 
 "Just as fine, Marie. You, too, if you are honest 
 and true." 
 
 Marie went away firmly resolved to be honest and 
 true, and the priest turned to his table, but not to his 
 writing. 
 
 "What an inordinate tangle things are in!" he said, 
 a moment later. " That little man would be an inval- 
 uable friend to me just now. How easily he could 
 unravel it." Heinrich Charlovitz smiled. " He prom- 
 ised me I should go to Jerusalem, and be chief of the
 
 MY WIFE. 211 
 
 Greek priests there. That is something; and what 
 else will come with it? Plenty of honor? Yes ; no 
 equals in my own creed. Plenty of luxury. Plenty 
 of ease. Plenty of servants. Plenty of solitude. 
 Plenty of worship, all day and every day, close by 
 the Holy Sepulcher, or where fanatic pilgrims think 
 it ought to be. Plenty of holy companions." His 
 lips curved a little, as who should say, "not the best 
 company after all, in some cases." Then he shrugged 
 his shoulders and arched his eyebrows, and added, 
 " Plenty of pricks from my conscience, too, I am 
 much inclined to fear." 
 
 Slowly, very slowly in fact, he repeated the Wise 
 Man's words : 
 
 "By humility and the fear of the Lord 
 Are riches and honor and life. 
 Thorns and snares are in the way of the froward. 
 He that keepeth his soul shall be far from them." 
 
 It was a doubtful warfare between the flesh and the 
 spirit, and was far from ended when night had come 
 again, and the castle was but a dim, dark dream 
 against the sky. The linden grove, that shaded the 
 conservatory in summer and shielded it in winter, 
 was but a shadow, a shade darker than the clouds, 
 and the lake just beyond it a sheet of jetty black, 
 broken only by an occasional reflection, when now 
 and then a star shimmered, white or yellow, through 
 the clouds, or a silver lining tipped one of the heavy 
 drifts as it swept beneath the moon. 
 
 Father Charlovitz crouched in a corner where the 
 conservatory joined the castle, wrapped from head 
 to foot in a thick fur cloak, the cowl drawn over 
 the square black cap.
 
 212 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 He had forced a window open a crack and fastened 
 it, close beside a table that had been arranged inside, 
 with preparations for tea. 
 
 " This," said he, as he fastened the window, " is 
 the only perfect confessional, no matter how honest 
 the one who kneels may be." 
 
 His patience was almost spent. " Dinner is lasting 
 long," he said. "'And there was much eating and 
 hard drinking among the sons and the daughters 
 after Irad and Mehujeal, before the son of Lamech 
 the cursed floated over their bodies in the ark.' But 
 why should I think of that to-night? I am conjur- 
 ing up omens, when in faith I would eat a little and 
 drink a little myself, if I had the opportunity." 
 
 Suddenly, as his eyes were growing dull and his 
 ears heavy, they were startled from their lethargy by 
 the voice of the princess, as, with that haughty air 
 which so well became the lady of Castle Foam, she 
 entered the conservatory. Costly ermine clung to 
 almost invisible gauze about her shoulders, by its 
 contrast adding beauty, and in its purity seeming like 
 floating frost about her figure. Diamonds sparkled 
 on her neck, and shot many-hued and brilliant darts 
 from her matchless wrists and fingers. A smile, such 
 as had rarely graced her face in the ten years, made 
 dazzling the beauty of her dark, soft eyes. Close 
 behind her, smiling and blinking, walked the Dane. 
 
 The priest had crept to the open window. He 
 shook his head decidedly as he watched the two, 
 muttering, "Lady, lady! Holy things are not for 
 dogs, nor pearls for swine. They will trample them 
 under foot and turn again and rend you." 
 
 Well had Albrecht von Bremen played his cards
 
 MY WIFE. 213 
 
 in this short game. He played in -right good earnest. 
 He played to win. It was the last game of three. 
 The first he had lost when reaching to gather in the 
 stakes. The second was a bad game for him from 
 the first. And the third ! He must win the third, for 
 he had good cause to fear that the wrath of Reppoun 
 would keep him, if possible, out of the estates of Kra- 
 marefF, and it would be possible unless the princess 
 were won before. He had no fear, however, of the 
 prince ever reaping a personal advantage from his 
 wife's property, for he had looked well to that, and 
 found, far back in the first covenant between the 
 crown and KramarefF, that the title and gold should 
 be forfeited to the next in line, if an heir Von Kra- 
 mareff married one not noble-born. 
 
 " How have you spent your time since we parted 
 so unhappily?" asked the princess. 
 
 " Chiefly in remorse." 
 
 " Then we will drop the past." 
 
 " Yes, my lady, and think of the present. Such 
 joy after such sorrow is heaven supplementing hell. 
 You laugh ! You will not realize'. But you have 
 not known the pang, how could you know the 
 pleasure?" 
 
 "But how long will it last, think you? I gave you 
 once my little heart. You threw it way, ' all for the 
 love of me,' you tell me now. Then you asked me 
 for it again, and because I would not give it back, 
 you were angry. This time you ask forgiveness, and 
 I have forgiven. How long " 
 
 "Forever," the Dane interrupted her. "All the 
 stock of ingratitude and rage are spent, and only 
 penitence remains."
 
 214 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 "We shall see. I grant you a trial." 
 
 " A happy probation ! " exclaimed the Dane. " If 
 by a thought I forfeit your favor, may Nemesis be 
 your friend ! " 
 
 "Woman needs no friend, monsieur, to urge her to 
 vengeance." 
 
 " Well said, my lady ! Woman's vengeance is 
 enough alone ; her smile is heaven in itself ! " 
 
 "You are very happy, monsieur." 
 
 "By you made happy, my lady." 
 
 "Then I am happy that it is so." 
 
 "And, my lady princess, if there should ever be a 
 time when an act of Albrecht von Bremen's could 
 make you happier, com " 
 
 "A very faithful friend I doubtless should find." 
 
 " Wanting !" What was it whispered "wanting"? 
 Was it a fancy? It sounded very real. It made her 
 shudder. Or was it only a chill draught from the window 
 beside her, that she discovered was open a crack? 
 
 She turned to close the window. It stubbornly re- 
 fused. The Dane tried, and failed. She said it was 
 of no consequence, and he sat down again. 
 
 " I have something to tell you," said the Dane. 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " You will not believe it." 
 
 "I will, if you speak truly." 
 
 " How will you know if I speak truly ? " 
 
 "I shall see it in your eyes." 
 
 Their eyes met. What was more natural? The 
 Dane knew well the magnetic power of his two eyes. 
 The princess felt it ; she had felt it before. She 
 shuddered ; she felt herself absorbed her strength 
 drawn out of her, her will bound and thrown one
 
 MY WIFE. 215 
 
 side. She was conquered ; and yet she was happy 
 strangely, fearfully happy. She smiled ; she laughed. 
 The Dane was satisfied. 
 
 " Before I tell you," said he, " give me a token that 
 you will not be angry." 
 
 "What shall it be?" 
 
 "A flower, lady." 
 
 " This one ? " She touched an exquisite bud fastened 
 to her brooch. The Dane knelt at her feet in assent. 
 
 She broke the stem and placed the flower in his 
 buttonhole. He clasped her hand in his and kissed 
 it passionately. She smiled again. 
 
 Still kneeling, one hand resting in hers in her lap, 
 his eyes fastened upon hers, and becoming momenta- 
 rily more powerful, he began : 
 
 "My lady princess, it was not all for the love I 
 bore you, not all a selfish interest, that drove me to 
 speak as I did in this room eleven years ago. I did 
 it for your good. I knew that you were destined to 
 be the wife of Victor Reppoun if you consented. For 
 your sake I tried to stop it. Now you are angry," 
 he said, slowly rising, without taking his eyes from 
 hers. 
 
 " No, monsieur, I am not angry ; and yet your 
 words are cruel." 
 
 "They are not, lady. You do not understand. 
 These years may have been Paradise to you. I know 
 nothing of them. The future I feared for you has 
 been long delayed. It has only been within my 
 power to watch, and, little as you have thought it, I 
 have been watching like a hound upon your door- 
 steps. I have come at last, braved the danger of
 
 2l6 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 being spurned by you an/i driven as a rogue away, 
 to warn you that a terrible future is very near." 
 
 She shuddered. His words were having the right 
 effect. She murmured : 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " This," he continued : " Do you know that by royal 
 grant the estates Von Kramareff are forfeited by the 
 heir who marries one not of noble birth?" 
 
 "Yes, monsieur." 
 
 "And you have done it." 
 
 She would have sprung to her feet have anni- 
 hilated the man before her torn him in shreds 
 in a burst of sudden rage that overwhelmed her ; but 
 those two strange eyes held her firmer than fetters to 
 her chair. 
 
 " Stay ! " he continued. M You have promised that 
 you will not be angry. You must not be till I have 
 finished. In Switzerland you spurned me as a ' mis- 
 erable pauper.' That I was not quite, for I am noble- 
 born ; and had you married me, as I would have been 
 your slave and footstool for ) r our life to have you do, 
 your titles and estates would always have been yours. 
 Instead of this, you married Victor Reppoun, who is 
 within a month to be a miserable pauper." 
 
 The princess did not even strive, by look, or word, 
 or motion, to count this an insult. She sat utterly 
 powerless, her eyes riveted upon those of the Dane ; 
 and his thumbs crept into the pockets of his panta- 
 loons, and his head hung well upon one side, and his 
 eyes half closed themselves, as he stood for a moment 
 in silence. 
 
 When he spoke again it was in such a soft, gentle 
 tone that it seemed almost choked with tears :
 
 MY WIFE. 2iy 
 
 " He is an illegitimate child, and not the legal heir 
 to Meerschaum. Unfortunately, the next in line has 
 long known it, long been searching for proof to 
 justify his claim. I learned but yesterday that he had 
 armed himself till he was satisfied. Victor Reppoun 
 will be driven from Meerschaum. If you retain your 
 allegiance you will be exiled from Kramareff. From 
 this royal position you have held for ten years you 
 will become the wife of a beggar that cannot buy his 
 daily bread except it be by the sweat of the brow. 
 Now, lady princess, Albrecht von Bremen has not 
 loved you against so much without a strong heart to 
 love. He loves you still. In less than a month the 
 prince will fall. If you will be the wife of Albrecht 
 von Bremen then, renouncing those other vows as 
 taken in ignorance, you may retain your name and 
 station in society. Once more I ask you, will you be 
 my wife? I give you time to think ; I ask no answer 
 till you are ready to answer me." 
 
 His card was played, his venture run. His eyes 
 fell. He sat down by the table opposite her chair. 
 The spell was broken. 
 
 There was no furious madness now, no glaring and 
 gnashing of teeth. She rose to her feet with all the 
 dignity of the wife of Prince Reppoun. 
 
 She spoke slowly : " Monsieur von Bremen, I am 
 ready to answer you now. Once, twice, three times, 
 / tell you No ! This is a change I have been long- 
 ing for. I hail it with a cry of joy. At last I will be 
 such a wife as Victor Reppoun shall honor with his 
 love, whom he can no longer pay with luxuries. My 
 brow shall sweat with his, and together we will earn 
 our daily bread."
 
 2l8 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 She seemed to wait for an answer. Strangely, the 
 Dane had listened as though he had expected just that 
 reply. He even smiled when he supplied the silence, 
 sayinp, " My noble lady will not forget her promise 
 not to be angry with the unfortunate Dane?" 
 
 " I am not angry, Monsieur von Bremen," she re- 
 plied, softened perceptibly by this unexpected plea. 
 " I can offer you no reward for your kindness, if I am 
 to be a pauper, but I can thank you, and I do ; and 
 you may ever remember that a pauper's prayers, which 
 are as potent as the prayers of a princess, will be 
 offered for your safety in return for the anxiety you 
 have had for mine." 
 
 The Dane was visibly puzzled by this, but he left 
 Castle Foam as calmly as he came, actually saying to 
 himself, as he was driven through the great portals on 
 the highway, " The Princess von Meerschaum is more 
 mine than she thinks herself."
 
 MY WIFE. 
 
 219 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 MY WIFE (CONTINUED). 
 
 WHILE the conversation of the last chapter was 
 going on within the conservatory, what of the 
 priest outside? He had not hoard the last of the mat- 
 ter. The princess's reply had been spoken to a con- 
 fessional without a confessor. Why? Chiefly and 
 obviously because he did not belong there. Indeed 
 he had received a very feeling conviction of that fact 
 in the course of the evening, and had changed his 
 mind upon more subjects than one. 
 
 As the conversation had grown interesting he had 
 given closer and closer attention to it. He had be- 
 come so excited, in fact, that his anger had once run 
 away with him. He had added to an expression of 
 the princess the significant word M wanting," and 
 added it so loud that it had almost closed up his con- 
 fessional. 
 
 He did not notice when the wind blew fiercely round 
 the corner into his hiding-place, nor when for a mo- 
 ment it died away, and the moon shone cold and clear 
 over the castle and lawn and lake. But the wind 
 blew, and occasionally the moon shone, nevertheless. 
 
 He had not heard the wheels of a caleche roll over 
 the cold ground and stop at the castle, but they rolled 
 and they stopped, and the Prince Reppoun alighted.
 
 22O CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 His face was pale, his step was slower than usual, 
 but without calling a servant he hurried up a private 
 staircase from a side door where he had entered, and 
 seen by no one was in his own apartments. He changed 
 his traveling suit for evening dress. He had not even 
 taken off his clothes, with the exception of one night 
 at Arantha, since leaving the castle. Then with a 
 sigh he threw himself upon a divan, and lit a cigarette. 
 
 "And now," he said, " Cartaphilus, the Wandering 
 Jew, comes back again. Comes back another man ! " 
 He registered the vow with a firm planting of his hand 
 on a marble table beside him. " It has dawned upon 
 me, late to be sure, but better late than never, that I 
 have not suffered alone, but have been making a 
 martyr of my wife. She has been strangely true to 
 me. How have I rewarded her? True, I have not 
 been false to her, yet I have not been true. She has 
 been everything the heart of man could ask to me. I 
 have been nothing, absolutely nothing, but what the 
 law requires to her. Now for reformation ! As I 
 have worshiped a fantastic ideal in Kathi Chich- 
 kini," he shrugged his shoulders and shuddered, for 
 he had not yet forgotten the pang which those words 
 had caused him, "daughter of a Russian nobleman," 
 w I will worship the loveliness represented in my wife. 
 I will live for her only, as she is living for me alone. 
 I will find her and surprise her. If she smile a wel- 
 come it is my omen of success." 
 
 He threw the cigarette away, and at the foot of the 
 broad staircase asked a page, who knelt and touched 
 the floor with his forehead to welcome his master, 
 " Where is the princess ? " 
 
 The boy was slow to rise. Servants know every-
 
 MY WIFE. 221 
 
 thing. It had spread like wild-fire through the castle, 
 in spite of every precaution, that the mistress, their 
 sainted, perfect mistress, had a lover. But the boy 
 must answer, and with his head still bowed, he stam- 
 mered, " In the conservatory, master." 
 
 The prince turned his steps toward the winter gar- 
 den. At the door of the corridor leading thither an 
 older servant bowed to the floor, but rising quickly, 
 laid his hand upon the latch. 
 
 " Not that way, not that way, master," hardly know- 
 ing what he said. "Did your Highness wish to see 
 the lady princess? Let me call her." 
 
 "And why not go myself ? " asked the prince, puz- 
 zled by the behavior, for it was not the custom at 
 Castle Foam to make suggestions to the lord of the 
 house. 
 
 " She has she has " 
 
 "Has what?" 
 
 w A friend, master." 
 
 The servant fell on his knees again. The prince 
 did not notice him, but walked slowly away. Turn- 
 ing, as he lit a cigarette, he said, " I am tired, I am . 
 going to my room. Do not disturb her, I will see her 
 in the morning." 
 
 Ten minutes later, protected by high boots, a fur 
 pelisse, and Zibelline cap, he left a side door of the 
 castle and approached the conservatory, upon the op- 
 posite side of which knelt the priest Charlovitz. 
 
 "A fire from hell consumes me!" he muttered. 
 "Am I gone mad to be thus willingly degraded to a 
 damnable eavesdropper? Not I! I will turn back. 
 Yet something infernal drives me on. She is not false 
 to me nav ; but I must see it, and believe."
 
 222 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 Again he approached the conservatory. At first he 
 saw but faintly two shadows through the leaves. But 
 nearer, and the whole picture was before him, only 
 hidden in part by Venus rising from her shell. 
 
 He shaded his eyes and peered through the window, 
 as she laughed till her sunlight hair trembled over 
 her shoulders, and the ermine on the gauze seemed 
 floating like a cloud about her, while the smile made 
 perfect the beauty of those dark, soft eyes, and the 
 diamonds flashed upon her neck and matchless wrists 
 and fingers. She was looking into the eyes of a stran- 
 ger, and the stranger, with his back toward the prince, 
 was evidently looking into hers. 
 
 " Good God in heaven ! " burst from the trembling 
 lips that were very near the glass. " She never 
 smiled on me like that ! She never looked so beauti- 
 ful for me, or I too should have loved her long ago." 
 
 Did the princess know that that smile won for her 
 the victory she had shed so many bitter tears to win ? 
 
 "Great heaven! and what now?" gasped the 
 prince, staggering on his feet, as she touched a bud 
 hanging upon her brooch, and the man before her 
 knelt at her feet. " How long, how long has this 
 been going on, and I, blind fool, have laughed at it? 
 And now ! she takes a flower from her bosom and 
 gives it him ! Oh ye immortal gods, see how he 
 kisses her, and how she smiles ! " 
 
 He brushed away the moisture on the pane that had 
 gathered from his breath, but not satisfied with the 
 imperfect picture, staggered and stumbled, groping 
 his way about the conservatory. 
 
 " How have I been duped ! " he groaned. " Great 
 God, how have I been consummately defrauded !
 
 MY WIFE. 223 
 
 My wife ! damned name ! Cursed may I be that I 
 have ever called her that ! Aye, and I have been 
 cursed for it." 
 
 He had gained the side upon which the priest knelt, 
 but the priest had neither eyes nor ears for anything 
 without. The frosty air as he turned the corner 
 fanned from his forehead great drops of perspiration, 
 and cooled the blood in the swollen, throbbing veins. 
 But only the trees saw, and a lonely night-hawk 
 screamed an unmelodious note of sympathy. 
 
 "Who is he? Who is he? I have seen that man 
 before," he muttered eagerly as he crept nearer. He 
 was kneeling before the princess now, clasping her 
 hand in his. Then he rose slowly to his feet. 
 
 "She looks her very life out of her eyes to him. 
 Ah, she must love him tenderly," said the prince, as 
 he still crept nearer. Then asked himself again, 
 "Who is he?" 
 
 As if all unconsciously moved to answer the ques- 
 tion, the man paused in what he was saying, and hung 
 his hands by his thumbs in the pockets of his panta- 
 loons, and his head well upon one side, and his eyes, 
 still fastened on those of the princess, half closed 
 themselves. 
 
 "Ha!" groaned the prince, stopping spellbound 
 where he stood. "You knew the prince, my father? 
 Yes ! and because I have not given you that golden 
 quieter you asked, for some accursed lie you con- 
 jured up, oh ! God-forsaken villain ! you have kept 
 your threat and are drawing your thirty pounds a 
 month in this way out of Meerschaum ! And she, 
 Lady of Castle Foam, is amour ing -with a devil! I 
 will go back, I will see no more. Go on with your "
 
 224 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 He was suddenly silenced by a motion in a black 
 mass close by the window. 
 
 "What! what!" he gasped, "another eavesdrop- 
 per prying into the secrecies of Castle Foam? Such 
 secrecies ! " He ground his teeth and silently ap- 
 proached the figure. 
 
 A moment later, all his gathered rage centering in 
 the grip, he had the figure by the throat, the body 
 under one strong arm, and with it entered the linden 
 grove at rapid strides. 
 
 The priest Charlovitz, choking so suddenly, be- 
 came bewildered. He struggled to escape ; it was 
 useless. He tried to shout; it was equally in vain. 
 Had the devil got him and started off, body and soul, 
 fur cloak and all? He was inclined to think so. And 
 yet it occurred to him even in that strait, that the 
 smell of burning fur would be an unwelcome efflu- 
 vium for even Beelzebub's nostrils. Still he was 
 not on his way to heaven, he felt sure of that, and 
 he was evidently on his way somewhere. He threw 
 every ounce of faith into a silent prayer for mercy. 
 He would have run the chance of the devil and 
 crossed himself, but he could not move a hand. He 
 gulped a breath and howled " Murder ! " but before 
 the word was half spoken the fingers tightened about 
 his throat, and it ended in a faint whistle. 
 
 His eyes started from their sockets as though they 
 were ready to leave him, if they might thereby open 
 a vent channel to his lungs. 
 
 The fur cowl was drawn close over the priest's 
 head, and the prince had not taken the trouble to look 
 under it, so that entirely ignorant of what bones 
 and flesh he might have under his arm, he threw the
 
 MY WIFE. 225 
 
 burden at last, face down, upon the ground, still hold- 
 ing it fast by the throat. 
 
 Second thought came half-way to the rescue of 
 the priest. The prince had had a moment to con- 
 sider. He had no right to wipe out all of his anger 
 on this being; he even let his cloak still cover him, 
 lest he should hurt him more than he intended, and 
 forthwith administered a sounder thrashing than even 
 he supposed the man deserved. 
 
 The second thought had crept a little into the back- 
 ground again as the thrashing went on and the prince 
 became excited in the work, till at last, exhausted 
 but unsatisfied, he loosed his hand from about the 
 neck, and yielded to the temptation to strike one blow 
 with his open hand upon the cowl, near where his 
 victim's ear must be. And the blow fell heavily 
 enough, for the prince was such a man of strength as 
 seldom is found in a castle. Lurid meteors flashed 
 and floated about Father Charlovitz for an instant, 
 then all was dark and he seemed falling, falling with 
 frightful rapidity into blackness. Insensibly he sprang 
 to save himself. The effort threw him upon his back. 
 Faintly the moonlight fell over his insensible face. 
 The prince stood erect, folded his arms, and looked at 
 him in blank astonishment. 
 
 "Of all men of St. Petersburg," said he at length, 
 "the last man I should have looked for there was 
 Father Charlovitz. I hope I have not killed the 
 priest." 
 
 He was too thoroughly broken up in mind and body 
 to care seriously whether he had or not, and leaving 
 the matter to chance, he walked slowly to the castle 
 and locked himself into his library. 
 15
 
 226 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 A finger of fire had been writing on the wall of 
 Babylon's sanctum. Were the words in the indicative 
 mode and perfect tense, or was there yet an oppor- 
 tunity, a possible potential ? 
 
 It was surely very late. Day, year, and life were 
 waning. The clock struck ten. Hoarfrost had gath- 
 ered on the track. Silver threaded Prince Victor's 
 chestnut hair. Was it too late? 
 
 Heinrich Charlovitz had come to his senses just in 
 time to hear the last hope of the prince, to realize who 
 it was that had given him the pounding, and that he 
 was left with that heartless wish to die or recover, as 
 the case might be. Very slowly he gathered in one 
 limb after another, testing each carefully to find that 
 no bones were broken ; then, with many a twinge and 
 groan gaining his feet, he answered the object that 
 was then far away entering the castle : 
 
 " No, no, my lord, you have not killed the priest ; 
 and as I live, Prince Victor von Meerschaum, you 
 shall yet smart for every blow that you have given 
 me, until you learn that Heinrich Charlovitz's will is 
 as powerful to do vengeance as that strong arm of 
 yours 1 " 
 
 Having delivered himself of this saintly indigna- 
 tion, he began to rub his forehead, which was now 
 aching furiously, and to hobble down toward quiet 
 little Schaumburg with its rushing little river. 
 
 Possibly Father Charlovitz was a man whose name 
 was registered in the high courts above as " good," 
 for he had at least lived by the law and the gospel 
 from his youth up, and never transgressed in any 
 way one of the Ten Commandments. He had made 
 a great sacrifice, too, leaving father, mother, home,
 
 MY WIFE. 227 
 
 wealth, and comparative luxury, to enter the service 
 of the Church. But, after all, it takes the fire to try ; 
 and fire tried Father Charlovitz hotter and hotter, till 
 a time came when the pure gold was found. 
 
 Hitherto his path, though taken as a cross, had 
 been shaded with palm-trees and bordered with flow- 
 ers. In long years of unmarred intimacy he had 
 begun to consider himself wholly an equal with the 
 Prince Reppoun ; now he suddenly discovered that 
 the prince thought differently. He came upon a bed 
 of thorns in his world of flowers, not only on this side 
 and the other, but right in the middle. Should he 
 peacefully walk through them, or rebel? Such words 
 as " Give him thy coat," and " Turn again the other 
 also," were not in the book as he read it to himself. 
 
 As he reached the door of his little home he turned 
 and looked at the sky, where clouds were piling up 
 thicker and heavier under the moon. He pressed 
 his hand on his throbbing temple ; it appeared to be 
 swelling. He gave as the result of his investigation, 
 either weatherwise or heartwise, "A storm is brew- 
 ing."
 
 228 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 MY HUSBAND. 
 
 THE same evening found General Wolzonn sitting 
 in the cosy library of the Frau von Ockel. 
 
 He had sat up all night, the night before, ponder- 
 ing, silently pondering. The night-wind had howled 
 at his window ; and, like Tousa, who accounted the 
 dripping of water over the rocks of her cave as de- 
 mons mocking her, he thought he heard in the wild 
 notes of the wind fiendish whisperings and unearthly 
 laughing. 
 
 " Ha, ha ! " it cried, " you're lost ! now you're lost ! 
 What a fool you have been ! But not a straw care I 
 for that, nor does any one else, you murderer ! Look 
 out for yourself ! There's a place all ready and wait- 
 ing for you in that Seventh Circle of boiling blood 
 guarded by Charon and the Centaurs ! That's where 
 they take such murderers as you, and give them Sibe- 
 ria for a half-way house ! " 
 
 Then the wind died away with a whip and a whirr, 
 and a farewell shout of " Murderer ! yes, murderer ! " 
 and morning came. 
 
 With the earliest daylight Constantine Wolzonn 
 wrote out his resignation, and putting on his cloak 
 and most unostentatious hat, hurried through back- 
 ways and by-ways to the rear entrance of the council-
 
 MY HUSBAND. 229 
 
 chamber. Hardly a soul was abroad at that early hour, 
 but from the few whom he met he ohrank as from 
 enemies. Every one seemed watching him, and say- 
 ing over and over, as he passed them, " Murder, mur- 
 derer, murder." For, surely, if the Princess von Meer- 
 schaum knew of it, many others must. What peril he 
 had lived in ! For how long, he had no idea ; but 
 the last straw had broken the camel's back. He had 
 faced the danger for thirty years ; now he had turned 
 to run, and having turned, it seemed impossible for 
 him to run fast enough. The hou'seman, who had 
 charge of the chambers, came only half dressed to 
 open the door. Rubbing his sleepy eyes, he pulled 
 it open just a crack, and looked out, muttering some- 
 thing about "midnight and daylight," and "running 
 enough to murder a man." 
 
 The officer started ! another accuser, that was all ; 
 and having delivered the paper, he hurried away. 
 As he was diving through a yet dusky alley, a voice 
 accosted him. 
 
 "Ah er yes, General Wolzonn," it said. 
 
 "Von Bremen," he hissed, without lifting his eyes. 
 "Just the man I was looking for." 
 
 " H'm," replied the Dane; "and where were you 
 looking?" 
 
 "Everywhere." 
 
 "Yes, I see, I have er just come from there." 
 
 Once within his own apartments with the Dane, the 
 officer shut the door with a sigh of relief that said, 
 "That shall not open again till things are changed ;" 
 and he remembered how Albrecht von Bremen had 
 bound him there in that same room five-and-twenty 
 years before ; how he had made of him a knave, that
 
 23O CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 was worse even than a murderer, to cover up the 
 crime, and how, in every year since then, he had lain 
 beneath his heel, peacefully enduring and doing every- 
 thing required of him to pacify the man who knew his 
 secret, and how he had just discovered that he had 
 simply been betrayed. 
 
 " There, sir ! " he said, striking his sword-scabbard 
 on the floor, feeling the shackels bursting, and him- 
 self a man for the first time since he had worn a beard. 
 
 " H'm where ? " inquired the Dane. 
 
 "Right here, 1 said the officer fiercely. "Villain, 
 you have been false to me : you have told my secret. 
 Henceforth I have done with you. Do what you 
 choose with all you know of me. Fling it on the 
 winds, write it on the clouds. Shout it from any win- 
 dow there, I will not stop you. You ! more treacher- 
 ous than the Friar Alberigo, at last I do defy you ! " 
 
 The officer, growing more excited as he went on, 
 almost howled his defiance ; while one of the secrets 
 of Albrecht von Bremen's power lay in the fact that 
 never in his long life had he been known to be excited, 
 never to speak a word in haste, never to say two 
 words when he was angry, if one would do. He ap- 
 peared now, as upon every crisis of his life, as though 
 he had expected just this, and was, on the whole, 
 rather happy to hear it. 
 
 "Have you er have you finished?" he asked, 
 in a quiet, careless way. 
 
 " Finished," said the general, with profound dignity, 
 and yet a sense that after all his importance, freedom 
 and manhood were oozing out of him. 
 
 "And thought well of the results?"
 
 MY HUSBAND. 231 
 
 "I have." The officer's pride went up a notch. 
 He was standing the catechism well so far. 
 
 " Of your commission ? " 
 
 " It is resigned." 
 
 A smile played about the eyes of the Dane. Why 
 was it that it suddenly appeared to the officer as an 
 act of absurd cowardice, this running to the council 
 with his resignation? His self-importance dropped 
 way down. He was not so much a man as he thought 
 for. 
 
 " H'm " 
 
 The general still stood with his back by the door, 
 but as the Dane thus began, a strange knocking at 
 the knees caused him to look about for a chair. The 
 Dane went on : " Now that I have listened to you, 
 suppose you er er " 
 
 " Pray, sir, proceed," said the officer, trying to stop 
 the leak with a little bravado. 
 
 " So I will, yes er I will take your position, 
 and without ceremony say : Do what you will with 
 my secret. Toss it to the winds. Borrow Gabriel's 
 trumpet and howl it round the world. What harm 
 will it do me? I did not steal her. ou stole her. 
 Why did you not have a man who deserted your 
 division arrested and shot, instead of supporting him 
 in Poland?" 
 
 The drowning man saw a straw floating past him. 
 He grasped it. 
 
 " But I will bring the girl back," he exclaimed, 
 desperately. "I will repair the damage I have done, 
 come what may of it, and I will have the satisfaction 
 at least of knowing that I have ruined your plans in 
 exchange for the ruin you have laid on me."
 
 232 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 " Not so fast, general." The Dane was smiling, 
 much as if he were watching a baby flogging a rock- 
 ing-horse that was a little unruly. " What would you 
 do with the girl if you brought her back ? You've not 
 the first idea of who she is." 
 
 "The daughter of a Russian nobleman," exclaimed 
 the officer, still clinging to the straw. 
 
 "Ah so she is! Somewhere between Crimea 
 and Lapland, unless I lied to you, and a corpse at 
 that, may be ; and, more than that, were she intelli- 
 gently standing upon the tomb of her father, and you 
 with drawn sword by her side, I have no plans to be 
 hurt thereby; and, more than that, you might search 
 for her till your bones were dust and not find her. 
 You have not been over-faithful with my charge 
 either. But I make no complaint. You think she is 
 still at Arantha, but when I relieved you of the burden 
 of supporting her, I also relieved the miller of his care. 
 I do not like to trust deserters, and at this moment she 
 is mother of er er well, of a son or daughter, as 
 the case may be, some nine years old and more, liv- 
 ing far away from Arantha. Now what do you pro- 
 pose to do ? " 
 
 The general was silent. What could he do? 
 
 " There is nothing left me, as I see, but to take my- 
 self away, to some spot where I can live at peace." 
 He was a fool to say that, and he knew it before the 
 words were more than spoken ; but that was the time 
 he always discovered that he had been a fool. 
 
 "You may go," said the Dane quietly, "but before 
 you go there is something I should be er er yes, 
 very much obliged to you if you will do for me."
 
 MY HUSBAND. 233 
 
 " I refuse," said the officer, doggedly planting his 
 back against the door again. 
 
 The Dane did not appear to have heard him, though 
 the officer spoke over-loud. He went on as quietly 
 as though he had not been interrupted : " There is a 
 superannuated actress living in miserable quarters in 
 Petersburg. Here is her address. She is a good 
 woman and deserves better quarters. I want her 
 established in elegant apartments. This, if you er 
 if you please, you will see to before you go, and give 
 me the location of the apartments you select, or when 
 you go, it will of course be to Siberia. You are a 
 murderer, an abducter, a harborer of deserters from 
 the Russian army. That is a bad record for a man 
 who has lived for thirty years upon the government. 
 But I must be going. I have made a longer call 
 than was necessary." 
 
 Albrecht von Bremen rose quietly as he spoke and 
 walked directly toward the door barred by the back 
 of a man reputedly one of the bravest officers in the 
 Russian army, armed to the teeth, and impregnated 
 through and through with the bitterest hatred for him. 
 The officer moved from the door and let him pass. 
 He knew he would. 
 
 When his master was gone, Constantine Wolzonn 
 threw himself down by the table. There lay the 
 address on a small piece of paper. He took it sav- 
 agely, crushed it in his hand, and had almost thrown 
 it in the fire, when he waited. 
 
 "I might as well go to Siberia," he said; but he 
 did not believe it. Freedom was sweet, even though 
 it were freedom to exile one's self from his country, 
 instead of being driven into exile. " I've paid a
 
 234 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 dearer price than this," he said, " for less of liberty." 
 The result of it all was, that he did precisely as Alb- 
 recht von Bremen expected he would do. The 
 dilapidated actress was placed in such quarters as 
 answered the brief directions, and the address sent 
 to the Dane, when Constantine Wolzonn, nothing but 
 a miserable, cowardly cat's-paw after all, in his own 
 estimation at least, sat in Frau von Ockel's library. 
 
 The Dane had gained his point, and might have 
 been satisfied ; but he was not fully satisfied. 
 
 " So Wolzonn is going away," he said, " and Char- 
 lovitz must take his place. But I do not like Charlo- 
 vitz. He is not to be depended on. Curse it all ! 
 This telling about the murder comes from Olendorff. 
 Were it not for that little estate of his he's willed to 
 me, I'd grind the old man in the dust for his foolish- 
 ness. But Israel is full of years and blind. Let him 
 die in peace." 
 
 The Dane stopped before a toy-shop window, to 
 watch the curious working of a toy, gotten up by 
 some distorted mind to tickle the fancy of wonder- 
 loving children. A cat, worked by machinery that 
 was wound up like a clock, spent the day in leaping 
 after a mouse that, worked by the same machinery, 
 passed the day running out of one hole and into the 
 other, just before the cat reached it. He stood before 
 that cat till one would have thought its mechanism 
 would have lost all wonder, even to a child. He 
 saw, however, not a cat, but Albrecht von Bremen 
 leaping after expectations. 
 
 " H'm ! Yes, that is I," came hissing from between 
 his teeth; "driven by a spring men call ambition. 
 Jumping, jumping, jumping, for three-and-fifty years,
 
 MY HUSBAND. 235 
 
 and I never yet did anything but load my shoulders 
 with sin and curses, and cheat a few such fools as 
 OlendorfF for bread to eat, and clothes to wear, from 
 one day till the next. And by-and-by when I run 
 down, then I must stop. No one will wind me up 
 again. There she goes! Catch him ! " he hissed; 
 but the cat was just too late. 
 
 " And so it will be with you and me, on to the end 
 of the chapter," thought the Dane ; and he walked 
 away with a heavy heart, though his face showed 
 none of it when he met the Princess von Meerschaum 
 at dinner. 
 
 " But your turn to suffer will come some day," 
 thought General Wolzonn ; and he wished it might 
 come soon. He was frowning savagely at the fire, 
 when the Frau von Ockel came into the library. She 
 was a German, widow of a Russian officer, who had 
 foughtshoulder to shoulder with Constantine Wolzonn. 
 Every one called her " frau," with much the same 
 pleasure which .we in America take in calling a 
 Frenchman " monsieur ; " and every one loved Frau 
 von Ockel. 
 
 " Ah ! if our souls but poise and swing 
 Like the compass in its brazen ring, 
 Ever level, ever true, 
 To the toil and task we have to do, 
 We shall sail securely, and safely reach 
 The Fortunate Isle and the shining beach." 
 
 So sailed the widow of Colonel von Ockel. It grew 
 visibly brighter in the library as she entered, and the 
 frown on the officer's forehead insensibly decreased. 
 He had dined with her. They had long been friends ; 
 she was every one's friend, especially when there was
 
 236 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 any heart aching or bodily suffering, or anything par- 
 ticularly happy going on. Then, as for General Wol- 
 zonn, he had also been her husband's best friend for 
 years, so that of all others he was always welcome. 
 He had come to tell her he was going away, but 
 could not gather courage. 
 
 "General Wolzonn, I protest!" she exclaimed. 
 "You are not in the field to-day, and that look is too 
 savage for even your quarters at the citadel." Then, 
 with a merry laugh, she fanned the fire. She was 
 not too proud to do anything useful, this amiable, 
 many thought angelic, woman ; but from morning till 
 night she was moving about with a kind word and 
 a smile, and a loving turn of her hand for every one 
 that needed help. Rich or poor, it was quite the 
 same to her. Hard work or easy, she sacrificed any- 
 thing and often everything for others ; and all in that 
 happy way that made the receiver doubt if it were 
 really any sacrifice at all. Every one knew Frau von 
 Ockel, from the great Tzar downward and the poor 
 beggar upward ; yes, they all loved her. Every one 
 confessed to her. She knew more secrets than any 
 priest, and had true-hearted sympathy and advice, if 
 not absolution. 
 
 Very few ever spent the hours as she spent many, 
 among the poor and the lowly, without being uninten- 
 tionally set one side by the high-headed nobility as a 
 sort of half nun incapable of anything but insipid 
 goodness. Of her they only laughed and said, " The 
 frau is trying to bind up as many wounds as her 
 valiant husband made." 
 
 She was, indeed, incapable of anything but good- 
 ness, but that person was yet to be found so haughty
 
 MY HUSBAND. 237 
 
 as not to recognize Frau von Ockel with a smile at 
 any time, and who did not agree with all who knew 
 her that she was one of the sweetest, pleasantest, 
 and best little women in the land. 
 
 "It was Lady Shahovska who called," she contin- 
 ued ; " she's quite talked me into going to the ball at 
 the palace to-night. I take back all that I said 
 about staying at home, and 3 r ou must go with me." 
 
 The officer at first rebelled ; he had no thought or 
 desire to go to such a place, and besides that, he had 
 been so unfortunate as to arrange everything and pre- 
 pare himself to leave Russia forever early the next 
 morning. He was anxious to get off before the Dane 
 had time to ask any .more favors of him. He had 
 enough yet to do at his quarters to prevent him from 
 spending the night at the palace ; yet the thought pre- 
 sented itself that the princess his cousin would be there, 
 and the hope of seeing her face just once more, seeing 
 it enlivened by the surroundings of a banquet, if not 
 happy, aided Frau von Ockel to victory. It never 
 occurred to him that it was not till entering the 
 library, and finding him so low-spirited, she had sup- 
 posed herself able to go. 
 
 He sought in vain for the princess, however, 
 through every room opened to the guests. It was an 
 unheard-of thing for her to be absent, but evidently 
 she was not there. He was leaning against the wall, 
 in a vacant, dimly-lighted side chamber, when Frau 
 von Ockel, passing through, discovered him. 
 
 " Well, well ! " she exclaimed, " why must I always 
 find you in the most out-of-the-way corner of every- 
 thing? Come, tell me, what are you doing out here 
 alone? "
 
 238 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 "Ah, my dear Lady von Ockel ! " said the general, 
 thanking good fortune for this golden opportunity to 
 ask a word of advice from one whom every one trust- 
 ed, " I am in a very sad state of mind ; will you help 
 me out of it?" 
 
 "I will try and see," she replied. "Come, here 
 are just two chairs in the entire room." 
 
 " No, no, my lady. What I will say shall not re- 
 quire two minutes. Come stand by this window ; it 
 is cooler. And no one must hear me," he added, 
 looking anxiously about the room. 
 
 " Men are fools ! " said Frau von Ockel, laughing. 
 " People do not frequent a room like this at one of the 
 palace balls." 
 
 They stood by the window. It was a low, French 
 window, and heavily curtained. It opened upon a 
 low balcony. 
 
 There Constantine Wolzonn told his story, so 
 guarded that none but himself should be known by 
 name and criminated. 
 
 " I could not help speaking to her as I did," said 
 he, " for I knew well she was unhappy, and with the 
 very best of reasons, too. Eleven years ago her 
 husband met at Arantha, in Poland, a beautiful peas- 
 ant girl. Beautiful, lady, beyond description is Kathi 
 Chichkini. No wonder he loved her ; one could hard- 
 ly help it. He even went twice in one summer to 
 Poland to see her. She is now the mother of a child. 
 It made me very angry, for the lady of whom I speak 
 I loved even as a little girl, when I ran and caught 
 her butterflies and picked her flowers. I have always 
 loved her since, not as one loved to marry, but as 
 one loves to care for and protect. Until yesterday,
 
 MY HUSBAND. 239 
 
 we have lived our lives-long on terms of the warmest 
 friendship. Now I am going away from Russia for- 
 ever ; I shall start at daylight to-morrow. Do not 
 look surprised and ask me why? I seem a worthless 
 outlaw at the best. I am going no one knows where 
 or how ; going to live, if live I can, an honest, hon- 
 orable life. But I cannot bear to go, leaving such a 
 parting to cling like a nightmare about me forever. 
 I hoped I might see her here, just see her, and 
 carry that picture to wipe away those last bitter 
 words oh, they were bitter indeed ! that she said 
 to me." 
 
 "And did you indeed suppose that a lady would 
 cheerily accept a sympathy offered because her hus- 
 band loved a pretty peasant girl? By my faith, Gen- 
 eral Wolzonn, you have been a bachelor too long ! 
 There's many such a skeleton in the mansions of 
 nobility, but few are the noble ladies who like to 
 have the bones rattled even by their dearest friends." 
 
 " But why could not I have thought of that before? " 
 asked the officer, as the nature of things began to 
 appear to him. 
 
 "This world is very odd, monsieur," Frau von 
 Ockel continued, smiling an answer to his question ; 
 "and the more we try to arrange it to please ourselves, 
 the more it displeases us. There is never a ' must' 
 said in this world, but there's a ' will not ' springs up to 
 answer it. I am sorry, very sorry that you are going 
 away. Of course I will not ask you why, but I do 
 not at all believe that it will be forever. A Russian 
 cannot long live out of Russia. He would rather, I 
 believe, be exiled to Siberia, so he might be sure he 
 was still in Russia."
 
 240 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 The officer winced. He thought not, but the lady 
 continued : " I've just a little suggestion for you that 
 many a man has found to his advantage. Since you 
 cannot have things as you want them, why not take 
 things as they are, and make the best of them? And 
 as for this queer little romance you have got into, why 
 not wait till you are well out of Russia, and write to 
 the lady? Tell her you did not mean to shake the 
 skeleton, but tell her carefully, and see if she will not 
 be good-hearted and common sense enough to forgive 
 you, and herself wipe out the nightmare." 
 
 "My dear Lady von Ockel, a lifelong thank you ! " 
 exclaimed General Wolzonn, kissing her hand, and 
 they left the room together. Frau von Ockel had 
 dropped her fan by the window. It was the only 
 trace they left behind. 
 
 The two shadows of the comforter and comforted 
 had hardly left the room, to be lost in the gay com- 
 pany beyond, when another shadow appeared in the 
 long window. The figure came through the curtains 
 and stood alone in the little room, silent for a moment. 
 
 She picked up the fan that lay at her feet, and 
 turned it slowly over, examining it with apparent 
 interest. It was of exquisite workmanship, wrought 
 by the Chinese from the shell of the sea-turtle. Then 
 turning, calmly as one might, she hung it on the 
 knob of the window. Who would have thought that a 
 terrific storm was shaking the very foundation of her 
 nature ! 
 
 She pressed her forehead between her hands a 
 moment, then stood erect again, as though ashamed 
 of it. 
 
 As her hands fell, her eyes were fastened upon a
 
 MY HUSBAND. 24! 
 
 heavy ring on one finger. It bore the crest of Meer- 
 schaum, set in diamonds. It was the wedding-gift of 
 the Prince Reppoun, and had not left that finger since 
 he placed it there. Madly she tore it off. It cut the 
 flesh as it came, leaving a stain of blood upon the gold 
 band. It flashed in the dim light. She looked at it 
 a moment, then threw it fiercely out of the window. 
 
 "So go away from me!" she cried. "Throw me 
 away from you, Prince Victor von Meerschaum ! 
 You I man whose footprints I have laved in love ! 
 An hour ago I could have walked these streets ragged 
 and barefooted by your side. This moment I would 
 not sit upon a throne and be your wife. My husband? 
 Yes, my husband ! Devil ! Fiend ! " 
 
 Constantine Wolzonn stood before her. As much 
 surprised as she, he stammered, " Lady princess, 
 pardon me ! I did not mean to interrupt you. Lady 
 von Ockel dropped her fan in here, and I came in 
 search of it." 
 
 He turned to go. She called him back. " Here is 
 the fan," she said, handing it to him. He took it, but 
 she still held it. Involuntarily his eyes met hers. 
 They were piercing and black in the dim light. They 
 seemed on fire with some hidden passion beneath 
 them. The lady continued : 
 
 "It was an hour ago you interrupted me, when I 
 was watching the cold stars out on this balcony." 
 
 Her hand dropped from the fan. The soldier 
 started. 
 
 " What ! You did not hear? " 
 
 "I heard that you were going away from Russia. 
 Tell me, before you go, will you forgive me what I 
 said to you yesterday ? " 
 16
 
 242 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 " I forgive you ? Lady princess, what do you mean ? 
 But you did not hear all ? " 
 
 " The balcony is small ; I did not try to help it. 
 General Wolzonn, you have shaken a skeleton before 
 me, the presence of which I had not so much as 
 dreamed of before." 
 
 " God forgive me, lady ! " 
 
 " Nay, rather be thanked ! Monsieur, I trust you." 
 
 " Then God be thanked ! For your confidence I 
 would forfeit life." 
 
 " Shall I believe it? Will you prove it true? " 
 
 " Heaven witness, lady ! Here I swear I will." 
 
 " Then take me with you where you are going ! 
 Take me away from the horrible blackness that awaits 
 me at Meerschaum. Oh, Constantine Wolzonn, be 
 my friend, as you have sworn it." 
 
 " Mercy ! mercy ! Heaven help me ! " groaned the 
 officer while she spoke. The dream of his life, the 
 sun of his heaven, was within his grasp the moment he 
 had banished it forever. 
 
 " What means that sigh?" exclaimed the princess. 
 " Does my friend hesitate in the hour when he can 
 save me?" 
 
 " Lady princess," groaned the officer, " whom God 
 hath joined " 
 
 "God joined?" she cried. "I did it I, and the 
 bishop, and Father Charlovitz ; and God, who did not 
 do it, punishes me." 
 
 "Then dare you fly? Nay, lady, let me help you 
 bear it where you are, and better the blackness at 
 Meerschaum if we can." 
 
 " Duplicit knave ! " exclaimed the princess, start- 
 ing back from him. " Aye, leave me in a nursery to
 
 MY HUSBAND. 243 
 
 which hell would be preferable, then come and lave 
 my hand for a caress." 
 
 Constantine Wolzonn, trembling from head to foot, 
 turned to leave her. 
 
 " Forgive me ! forgive me ! " she cried, falling on 
 her knees ; " I did not know what I was saying. But 
 if you love me, if you ever loved me, oh, pity me ! 
 Take me somewhere take me anywhere ! Take 
 me with you, and kill me, and with my dying breath 
 I will bless you for your kindness ! " 
 
 The officer covered his eyes with his hand, and 
 turned his head away. He could not see her and not 
 yield. Love wrings the heart when it is tuned to 
 pity. 
 
 " Nay, do not turn your eyes away," she pleaded. 
 " Look at me, look at your cousin, look at the Prin- 
 cess von Meerschaum down in the dust to you. Ah ! 
 pray forget the past and carry me away." 
 
 Was it in mortal man to hold much longer? Voices 
 sounded in the corridor, and thanking heaven for the 
 intervention, the officer exclaimed, "Lady princess, 
 stand up ! For your name's sake, be sensible : some 
 one is coming." 
 
 " No, I will not stand up I " she cried. " What is my 
 name to me? Let them see me who will, and laugh 
 at a broken wreck on the rock Meerschaum." 
 
 With strong arms he raised her to her feet. 
 
 w Lady princess," he said, " I shall leave you for a 
 moment. Go out on the balcony and wait there till I 
 come." 
 
 In an instant he was gone, and she was upon the 
 balcony. The air was cold, but her cheeks burned 
 as though her whole being were on fire. Dreary,
 
 244 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 silent, dark, forsaken was the street, far down beneath 
 her. Away in the distance was the echo of horses' 
 hoofs, then all was still again. Soon the bump, bump, 
 bump of wooden shoes sounded, and slowly there passed 
 beneath the balcony a mean, degraded rag-picker; 
 one of the lowest of the low of all creation, gathering 
 their life out of the gutters of death, and even at that, 
 lest they should gather too ample a livelihood, they 
 are searched by police whenever they meet them, 
 and everything of value is taken to fill the guard- 
 man's purse. 
 
 Under the window he stopped. His forlorn, old body 
 almost lost its equilibrium. He shaded his eyes 'with 
 his hand, for he stood in the faint light shed from the 
 windows of the palace. Twice, three times he tried, 
 before he raised something from between the paving- 
 stones, on the point of his iron hook. He stood for 
 a moment, turning it over and over, and from one 
 hand to the other, to convince himself that he held a 
 real gold ring with flashing stones in it. Then he 
 looked from window to window of the palace, and 
 dropping his wooden shoes into the bag upon his back, 
 he darted into a black by-way at a faster pace than 
 his old legs had carried him for many years. 
 
 "You are welcome, old man," said the princess. 
 " May it give you more pleasure than it has ever given 
 me." 
 
 The street was silent again. The sky was cold, 
 and a faint gray hovered in the east, tinged with the 
 first thought of the dawning. 
 
 "The pavement is hard," she whispered. "It would 
 be but an instant ! " Her hands clasped the rail of 
 the balcony. " Only a tiny leap, a swift breath in the
 
 MY HUSBAND. 245 
 
 air." She pressed the rail closer. " One leap, and all 
 would be over. Shall I? shall I?" She 
 
 A soft, warm hand rested on hers, a soft voice 
 sounded. M My lady, the er the night-air is dan- 
 gerous." 
 
 Her ears were hardly tuned to the human voice, 
 already waiting for the whir of the wind rushing past 
 them. 
 
 "I will go in, Monsieur von Bremen, "she said, with 
 a cold shudder that made the Dane shrug his shoul- 
 ders, and wonder if he had done more damage at 
 dinner than he meant. 
 
 What was it caused her to stop, with her foot upon 
 the sill? Ah ! many a moment has blotted out a life- 
 time as it passed. She hesitated. A random thought 
 had flashed across her mind. In an instant it grew 
 to a resolve. 
 
 " Monsieur ! " she said. 
 
 "My lady, ' Tout d vous. Toujours pret.' Yes." 
 
 " Then listen ! I am going away from St. Peters- 
 burg. Will you go with me for a little way, to assist 
 me?" 
 
 The Dane was on his knees in an instant. 
 
 " And you will be my wife ? " 
 
 She motioned him to rise with an imperious gesture, 
 and answered, "I said I was going away from St. 
 Petersburg." 
 
 " I will go with you and be your slave," the Dane 
 replied humbly. 
 
 "Very well then. I will send you a thousand rubles 
 in the morning to prepare. Be at the grove, at the 
 east end of the castle lawn, upon the highway, with
 
 246 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 a traveling-coach, prepared for a long journey, just 
 one hour after the next sunset gun." 
 
 Without another word she left him. 
 
 Rising to his feet, he took her place upon the bal- 
 cony, and as her coach rolled from the court and 
 passed the window, he shook his head, and, strange 
 as it may seem, he muttered, "She is not so nearly 
 mine as I thought this afternoon." 
 
 General Wolzonn returning, having nerved himself 
 to urge her, force her if it lay in his power, back to 
 her duty at Castle Foam, was surprised to find the 
 change upon the balcony ; but relieved withal, he 
 walked away without disturbing the figure of a man 
 that had taken her place. It was well for him that he 
 did not disturb it.
 
 THE SILVER CORD IS LOOSED. 247 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE SILVER CORD IS LOOSED. 
 
 THE Dane at once began a search for Count Olen- 
 dorff, who had as ever accompanied him to the 
 palace. He was nowhere to be found. He took a 
 public carriage and drove to the count's residence, 
 arranging with himself a simple plan upon which the 
 count was to proceed to carry on the work and in- 
 state himself in Meerschaum while he kept the prin- 
 cess away. He was anxious lest the count, being old, 
 might not be equal to everything ; yet there was no 
 other way, as he was thus prevented from being on 
 hand himself. 
 
 "I must leave it all with him," he said, "him and 
 Priest Charlovitz, unless I can bring Wolzonn back 
 into the traces again. At least, I will see the gen- 
 eral and do what I can with him." 
 
 The sleepy houseman declared his master had 
 been in four hours, but the count had often left such 
 parties early as he had grown older. 
 
 A dim light shone under the door of the room where 
 the count always sat. The Dane knocked with his 
 hand on the latch, and entered without waiting a re- 
 ply. Yes, the count must have been waiting long for 
 him, for he had fallen asleep in his arm-chair. 
 
 The lamp burned low. The air in the room was
 
 248 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 close. But from the darkness of the hall Von Bremen 
 could see well enough ; and as for the smell, he had 
 smelled far worse. It did not matter. He threw 
 himself into a chair with a sigh. The burden of 
 scheming rested heavily upon him. He glanced to- 
 ward the easy-chair. The count's chin rested on his 
 chest ; he was fast asleep. 
 
 " No harm to sleep if you are tired, my lord," he 
 said, almost gently; "but it's time to wake up now. 
 Business ! business, my lord ! Wake up !" 
 
 He rapped lightly on the table, but the count had 
 fallen into that deep, early morning sleep that is 
 sound even in an arm-chair. 
 
 " You usually give up your chair to me," said the 
 Dane ; " but never mind to-night. I'll soon have 
 cushions of my own to rest upon ; cushions of my 
 own ! Ha, ha ! " 
 
 He struck the table a little harder, and with a fiend- 
 ish smile bent over and looked up into the face of 
 the sleeper. 
 
 " Beg pardon ! " he said in a low voice, with his 
 face very near the count's. " I did not know but you 
 were er er waking up. But you are not ; no. 
 This lamp of yours burns beastly low, and smokes ! 
 Lord I it smells strong enough to raise the dead. It 
 gives this room a frightful, ghostly hue. Come, 
 come, wake up ! I want some fire and wine. I want 
 to talk with you as long as it takes your old clock to 
 bang out ' twelve,' and then be gone, for I've a hard 
 day's work ahead of me, from this, an hour before the 
 sun rises, to that, an hour after it sets again. Now, 
 come, old fellow ! I say, do you want to marry 
 the ? "
 
 THE SILVER CORD IS LOOSED. 249 
 
 He touched the count's arm as it hung over the 
 chair. It swung in its socket like the pendulum of 
 his clock, wearily, slowly, when the clock quite run 
 down. He grasped the lamp and held it nearer. 
 Was the count ill ? The little flame that had flickered 
 and smoked in the socket gave one flash and then 
 went out. The Dane sprang from his chair so 
 quickly that it went banging backward on the floor. 
 It was so dark he could not tell if the crash had 
 roused the count. The shutters were fastened. He 
 could not find the bolt, and tore them open, bursting 
 it. The morning light came softly through the mists 
 into the smoky room. He returned to Count Olen- 
 dorfF. Laying his hand on the old man's forehead, 
 he lifted the head. Bent beyond its equilibrium, it 
 fell the other way and rested on the back of his chair. 
 With a horrible, guttural gurgle the lower jaw fell, the 
 mouth was opened wide, and two eyes fixed in a blind 
 stare were fastened directly upon Albrecht von Bre- 
 men's face. With a terrible shudder the Dane bowed 
 the head upon the chest again, and turned toward 
 the window, groaning from the very depths of his 
 nature, " Lord Count OlendorfF is dead ! " All that 
 to the world had represented the once great Adjutant 
 of Russia was in that arm-chair, dead as his marble 
 bust above the fireplace. 
 
 After standing before the window till the first shock 
 of the discovery had worn away, he sat down by the 
 table again, and throwing his head upon his arms, 
 moaned : 
 
 " Lost again, just at the moment of my victory ! 
 When will this everlasting ' almost ' end in one suc- 
 cess?" And the smoke from the lamp, as it curled
 
 250 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 about his head, seemed forming, by some mystery of 
 prophecy, the letters of one word in answer : 
 
 w Never ! " 
 
 " Yes, dead ! " he repeated. " Dead the first instant 
 in the twenty years that he could have lent a helping 
 hand to me. H'm. Now I think of it all soberly, 
 I believe Count Olendorff is wise. I wish " He 
 lifted his head, and looked at the dead man. " I do, 
 I almost wish that I sat in that arm-chair there. But 
 stop. What am I saying? If I cannot have the 
 whole, I'll have the half; so called the 'better half.' 
 'Tis better to elope with the Princess von Meerschaum 
 than to be a corpse in an arm-chair; yes, far better." 
 
 In the natural course of things his ever hopeful 
 heart began to lift his spirits up again. He sat erect ; 
 then, slowly at first, and soon more rapidly, he 
 searched the room, apologizing to the arm-chair and 
 its contents with a nod and a smile, and the words, 
 "'Some good out of each evil.' That was your motto. 
 I will adopt it, and see what good may come of 
 this." 
 
 All that he found of worth and little size he put 
 with his great-coat in the corner : a bag of gold, the 
 heavy cross and diamonds worn by the count as in- 
 signia of his high office in his days of power, several 
 rings and honors. 
 
 " Hope while the heart beats," he said. " And what 
 else have I done but live on hope, eat hope and drink 
 hope for the whole of my life, and I've not grown 
 gouty yet. I'm much inclined to dread a failure in 
 this venture with the princess ; but I'll hope for the 
 best, and take all I can get. I'd laid a mountain 
 of hope on that senseless Lord Olendorff; yes ;
 
 THE SILVER CORD IS LOOSED. 251 
 
 and the mountain crushed him. My mountains 
 always do." 
 
 Now he came upon a drawer that would not move. 
 
 " He carried the key to that in his pocket," he mut- 
 tered, and began, without a shudder this time, to 
 search the dead man's clothes. 
 
 Almost the first thing he found was a paper only 
 half thrust into the coat-pocket. He opened it. 
 
 K Dated this morning ! " he exclaimed. " The last 
 work of The devil ! " he hissed. " What do I 
 read ! ' Withdraw all disposal of my property to 
 Albrecht von Bremen, giving it without reserve to 
 Kathi Chichkini, a peasant living near Arantha, in 
 Poland, who was stolen from her parents in St. Pe- 
 tersburg by a fraud to which I was a party.' Villain ! 
 and how in heaven did he know where she lived? 
 'Some good out of each evil.' Yes, you were very 
 right, old man. Lucky for me you died just when 
 you did." 
 
 He bent over and looked up into the count's eyes. 
 " Did your conscience prick you at the ball last night, 
 that you came home so early and made that out? Or 
 was it the grapple of Death that you did not under- 
 stand? If you had lived till noon to-day, that will 
 would have been on record, I suppose, and I blocked. 
 But the will must go for the deed at the Judgment- 
 day, for the deed will be nowhere soon." 
 
 He set the paper on fire, and with a smile watched 
 it burn away till the last spark had meandered over 
 the black ash-heap, and all was gone. Then dashing 
 the ashes into a thousand flakes, he added : " I have 
 destroyed the evidence that would have branded on 
 your coffin-lid that comfortable word, ' a knave ! '
 
 252 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 And now, farewell, Count Olendorff. Farewell, my 
 patron Olendorff. I cannot help you, I cannot harm 
 you anymore. I look at your face, that er that 
 old, familiar face, for the last time now ; for I am 
 going away from you, my lord, and you are going 
 away from me. We've little more in common, unless 
 your theory of a Judgment-day be true. If so, then 
 bear you your witness against me that I was the ser- 
 pent that tempted you, and step up into Paradise from 
 my shoulders. But if Pythagoras may chance to be 
 right, and in a comfortable metempsychosis we wan- 
 der no further than the birds and butterflies, then 
 hold ! transmigrate you with care ; for in that pa- 
 per I have burned you did belie a friend, my lord ; 
 and when I overtake you, I shall collect it as a debt, 
 with ample usury." 
 
 He secreted the stolen treasures about his clothes 
 and in the pockets of his overcoat ; then turning, with 
 his hand upon the latch, he added : "And now, until 
 our paths do come again together, farewell, Count 
 Olendorff." 
 
 Step by step his footfalls echoed on the stairs ; and 
 as the houseman held open a carriage-door for him 
 he dropped a coin into his hand, saying : " My poor 
 old man, our good master is dead. He died of er 
 of er yes, his heart ceased beating about daylight 
 this morning. Do not go into the room until the 
 priest comes. I will send one directly." He gave 
 him the key. 
 
 The old man looked first at the speaker, then at the 
 coachman, then at the house, then at the ruble, then 
 at the key of his master's room, which the Dane had 
 given him.
 
 THE SILVER CORD IS LOOSED. 253 
 
 "As you say it shall be done," he answered ; and 
 closing the carriage-door, entered the house in a half 
 dream, repeating, " Dead, dead, dead ! Died because 
 his heart stopped beating at daylight? He never died 
 that way before, since these many years I've served 
 him as his honored houseman, yet the daylight has 
 come every morning, as I remember, unless it was a 
 storm, or the like ; " and despite the Dane's command 
 and his promise, he went directly to the dead man's 
 room. 
 
 Indeed the Dane had given the command simply 
 to remind him that he had better go up, in order that 
 he might have some one to charge the theft of the 
 jewels upon in case it was discovered. 
 
 All day long Albrecht von Bremen hurried from 
 high to low and back to high again ; as much at 
 home with one as with the other; as familiar and 
 friendly when he wrangled with some petty pawn 
 jeweler over the value of a stone, rudely torn from 
 its setting, or the price of the setting with the 
 gems all taken out, for he was too thoughtful of the 
 future to sell them together, as when, with quiet 
 bow, he crossed himself before the church authorities 
 and planned for the burial of a great man whose sil- 
 ver cord was loosed. Then he dropped in upon the 
 priest. Whoever the next in line might be, the Dane 
 did not care ; he had a thumb-screw that would apply 
 equally well to any one who might present himself. 
 His plans must all center in the priest now, to turn 
 the prince out, and even leave the place vacant if 
 need be, till he could secure the princess and Krama- 
 reff, and then return to do the rest.
 
 254 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 He trembled to place so much in the hands of one 
 whose constancy was so little to be relied upon ; but 
 nothing better could be done, since he had found him- 
 self baffled, as we know, in a search for General 
 Wolzonn. His nerves were well-nigh exhausted. He 
 dreaded the interview. 
 
 After ten minutes' talk, however, with the priest he 
 became convinced that something had influenced him 
 strongly in his favor. What it was he did not ask ; he 
 did not even stop to wonder. He gave him the con- 
 nected chain of evidence and the address of the actress 
 who was to clinch the nail, better satisfied that the 
 work would be done. 
 
 In a sense his conclusion was correct, for the priest 
 had all day followed a line of thought very like that 
 which had passed through his mind just before the 
 Dane entered. 
 
 " What a change has come over me ! " Father 
 Charlovitz had said to himself. " I cannot under- 
 stand myself. Has the evil one possessed me? It 
 cannot be ; yet something drives me beyond with- 
 standing. For the dignity of the church I may not 
 be thus bent and beaten without resentment. For- 
 bearance would be treason to my office. A day has 
 passed ; he has offered no apology. As Heinrich 
 Charlovitz lives, that man shall suffer ! " 
 
 Albrecht von Bremen found the priest looking 
 somewhat browbeaten, with a very black shadow 
 about one eye. The priest explained that he had 
 tripped on a protruding root and struck his head 
 against a branch of Meerschaum ; and the Dane re- 
 plied : 
 
 "Protruding branches, and roots not growing in
 
 THE SILVER CORD IS LOOSED. 255 
 
 the ground where they belong, are er yes, sadly 
 out of place." 
 
 But to Albrecht von Bremen he had said : " He 
 never struck that head of his against a branch, un- 
 less there is some spiritual rendering there ; nor do 
 roots trip up a man walking so slowly as a priest. It 
 strikes me the prince may have returned, a very 
 potent branch of Meerschaum he ! and been up to 
 some of his father's tricks. Many a black eye floated 
 round the castle in those days, from which affliction 
 priests were not exempt, if they trod upon the old 
 man's toes." 
 
 " Has Father Charlovitz thought of our conversa- 
 tion?" he asked. 
 
 " I see a certain justice in Monsieur von Bremen's 
 claim if the princess be not injured by it," he replied. 
 
 "Very good," said the Dane. "One hour after 
 sunset to-night she will leave Castle Foam forever, 
 of her own free will, in princely state, to claim her 
 own as the Countess von Kramareff, after -making a 
 short journey, during which time you are expected to 
 have completed the work and be ready for the reward 
 which is waiting for you." 
 
 The priest bowed his assent without an answer, 
 and the Dane left him. 
 
 As Heinrich Charlovitz stood in his little study-door 
 watching the carriage drive away, a boy stopped and 
 crossed himself. 
 
 "Good father!" 
 
 "Well, my son, what is it?" 
 
 " How many times must I forgive a boy ? " he asked. 
 
 "Till seventy times seven, my son." 
 
 "That will be very hard, for he struck my little sis-
 
 256 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 ter twice, and threw mud at her, and he says he will 
 do it again ; and I would like to pound him if it would 
 not be wrong." 
 
 The priest held up a crucifix, and pointing to a 
 painting of the Lord in agony upon it, said : 
 
 "When He was reviled and spit upon, my son, for 
 your sake and mine He reviled not again." 
 
 "Nor will I, good father," said the boy. But as he 
 walked slowly away he mused : " It almost seems as 
 though I ought to pound him. I wonder if the Lord 
 Jesus had had a little sister, and if a boy threw mud 
 at her and struck her, what he would have done. I 
 wish he had struck me. It wouldn't matter half so 
 much. Oh, I am very wicked ! I want to pound 
 him. Shall I ever be as good as that holy priest? I 
 suppose he could forgive anything." 
 
 Why was it that none of the shadow of the cross, 
 with its seventy times seven, fell over the priest as he 
 held it up? 
 
 To the owners of names here below there are surely 
 two values, an estimated and an actual.
 
 MISUNDERSTOOD. 257 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MISUNDERSTOOD. 
 
 rwas almost time for the sunset gun. EHse knew 
 that her mistress was going somewhere upon a 
 journey. She knew it was for no good, for the cards 
 had all told wrong ; she knew that she was to accom- 
 pany her, and she did not want to go ; hence, hear- 
 ing that the prince had returned, she had been a 
 prisoner in the princess's apartments all day to keep 
 her tongue from doing mischief, she hurried back 
 with the news, from an errand upon which she had 
 been sent across the hall. Her mistress turned sud- 
 denly white, white as marble ; then, rising in a 
 determined way, went out and locked the door behind 
 her. Elise was still a prisoner, and it did not please 
 her over-much. 
 
 The prince was in his library. The princess rapped, 
 but receiving no answer, frowned, opened the door, 
 and entered, closing it behind her. That moment 
 she wished she had not come, but was too proud 
 to fly. 
 
 The prince crouched on an ottoman by the distant 
 window, his arms wound painfully over the pedestal 
 of Vishnu, still clad in a thick fur coat and high- 
 topped boots, his hair tangled over his head, his face 
 buried in his arms. Had he gone mad? Would he 
 17
 
 258 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 tear her in pieces there, in the house where he mar- 
 ried her, to make room for that peasant of Arantha 
 and her child? 
 
 " My lord ! " she said timidly. 
 
 He did not move. 
 
 " My lord ! " she said again, beginning to tremble 
 violently, " it was not told me till this instant that you 
 were in the house. Are you ill? " 
 
 Very slowly he lifted his head. His eyes were 
 bloodshot. His face was haggard. 
 
 " And what is that to you, madame, whether I be 
 or not? " he asked in a harsh bitter voice. 
 
 Startled beyond all considerations of what she 
 said, the princess exclaimed, " Nothing ! nothing, my 
 lord ! " 
 
 "Aye, nothing! I thought so. And how of that 
 devil's dog, Bremen of Denmark ! is he ill, that he 
 is not now in your embrace ? " 
 
 " Who? " gasped the princess, coming to her senses. 
 
 " Oh, no one ! no one, your ladyship ! Only an 
 imaginary character." 
 
 The blood of bold Kramareff rushed through the 
 veins of the princess. 
 
 " Your Highness," she exclaimed, " fares it ill be- 
 tween you and Kathi Chichkini of Arantha, in Poland, 
 that she is not still resting in your arms? " 
 
 "Who?" ejaculated the prince, springing to his 
 feet. 
 
 " Oh, no one ! no one, your lordship ! I was 
 simply imagining a character." 
 
 "So you have found me out?" the prince said, 
 throwing himself again upon the ottoman. 
 
 "You seem to think you have found me out."
 
 MISUNDERSTOOD. 259 
 
 This suddenly recalled the Dane again, and, look- 
 ing up, the prince replied : 
 
 " Woman, this thing is preposterous ! " 
 
 "Aye, my lord, it is preposterous." 
 
 " What mean such words to me ? they are in- 
 sulting ! " 
 
 " They are your words to me, my lord, and they 
 are insulting." 
 
 Stamping the floor in his rage, the prince replied, 
 " Madame, did you ever see me lavishing on another 
 favors and love I never paid to you? kinder words ! 
 softer smiles ! damned kisses ! like a frantic " 
 
 " Enough ! I have not seen it, but I know that 
 you have seen yourself doing just that thing ; you " 
 
 "Stop, stop ! madame ! I will hear no more. This 
 thing must end," said the prince, standing once more 
 before her. Stung to the quick, and shamed by the 
 vivid picture of himself, which he had intended to be 
 of her, he had said, "This thing must end." He 
 knew of but one ending. He was ready to kneel 
 and ask her pardon, to be forgiven and as freely 
 to forgive. 
 
 The princess was on fire with rage. She had 
 been thus denounced, coupled with shame, by a man 
 who had just left the side of an unlawful love. She 
 knew of but one ending, the one she had planned for 
 herself. With a tone heavy-laden with scorn, she 
 replied : " Let it end, Prince von Meerschaum, and 
 the sooner so much the better. In one hour, unless 
 by force you prevent me, I shall leave you and your 
 castle forever." 
 
 The prince staggered back to the ottoman. In- 
 stantly the heart that would have melted was frozen
 
 260 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 hard again. Burying his face in one hand on the 
 pedestal, he extended the other, saying, "Leave me, 
 Lady von Kramareff ! Go when you wi 1 ! ! go 
 where you will ! Or stay you here, and I will go." 
 
 "Be pleased to remain, Prince von Meerschaum. 
 I choose to go. Farewell ! " 
 
 The door closed. The princess was gone. The 
 prince raised his hands above his head. "Aye! I 
 have done it at last," he groaned, " and the world is 
 not large enough to contain my misery. One lost, 
 the other gone. Both the worse for me, and I the 
 worse for both of them. But hold ! " he exclaimed, 
 springing toward the door. "I will stop her! she 
 shall not go ! " He stood still for a moment, then 
 shook his head. "No, no! Let her go! She has 
 only played a farce with me. She goes because she 
 wishes to. She goes with Albrecht von Bremen and 
 because she loves him. Let her go ! " 
 
 " Merciful God ! " he prayed, " grant me respite ! 
 Oh, grant me respite I Take my wealth, O God ! 
 take everything. Give me but one hour of peace of 
 mind. Grant me expiation, absolution, rest from 
 this misery. My punishment has been enough ! Take 
 it away ! Take everything with it, so that it leaves 
 me my own old self again." 
 
 He staggered weakly on his feet, and pressed his 
 forehead with his hands. 
 
 " Oh, I am faint ! I am famished ! Since six-and- 
 thirty hours ago and more I have tasted neither food 
 nor sleep, and I was well-nigh worn out then. Can 
 I, in such a state, wield sober judgment? Do I 
 know what I am doing? Do I know what I have 
 done ? Hold ! Stay these fearful apparitions ! The
 
 MISUNDERSTOOD. 261 
 
 room grows dark around me. Wait! I have acted 
 blind. I have been misunderstood! Hold! hold, I 
 say, till I can act again ! " 
 
 He fell heavily upon the floor, his face downward, 
 and lay motionless, while the prayer he had prayed, 
 carried up to that far throne where prayers are heard, 
 was cast into the "mill of the gods," and, as it passed 
 between the upper and the nether stones, an an- 
 swering destiny was ground ; " slowly," as those mills 
 grind always, but ground " exceeding small." 
 
 There were strange suspicions and unaccountable 
 tremblings in the servants' hall that night. 
 
 "Why are we shut in here, and not one of us 
 allowed in the castle? " asked one. 
 
 A shadow passed a window where several were 
 looking out. A door was quickly opened, and some 
 one called "Leo! is that you?" But the shadow 
 made no answer, and disappeared. 
 
 Later, two servants, headed by the butler, emerged 
 from th,e door. 
 
 "We must find Leo first," said he, "and know if we 
 are still to keep out of the castle. Look ! it is black 
 from tower to door." 
 
 " There's something wrong abroad," said one. 
 
 "I'm jumping from every bush as from the devil," 
 said another. 
 
 "Hark! Did ye hear a cry? Or are my wits 
 gone to fear?" 
 
 The butler turned about. His face was white in 
 the moonlight ; it was always red with wine. 
 
 " And did ye too hear the cry, or was it the scream 
 of an owl?" asked the servant. 
 
 The butler touched his wine-tipped nose and an-
 
 262 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 swered, "I heard it. This is not a common night. I 
 tell ye, men, it was not an owl's voice, and ye are 
 right to fear. We will go back to the castle and send 
 for the priest. I am not afraid, but I will go with ye 
 to guard ye, for who should know better and disre- 
 gard the warning of such a cry as that? 'Twas the 
 cry of a dying soul we heard." 
 
 And the butler was nearer right than he thought 
 for.
 
 CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 263 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 
 
 THROUGH sleet and snow and thaw, a Paris- 
 ian winter's day, a brisk little man wound his 
 way down the Rue de Rivoli, from the police head- 
 quarters. He stopped at the Rue Castiglione, con- 
 sulted a paper, then consulted a gendarme ; then 
 raised his umbrella he had been walking under the 
 arcade before and started down the street, at the 
 end of which rose the Column Vendome. He had 
 no time to walk around the square that surrounded it, 
 though the crossing through the center had not been 
 cleared, and ran a step or two, sooner than wait for 
 a lagging horse to pass him. He stopped for an in- 
 stant to kick the snow from his boots against the iron 
 railing that surrounded the great bronze tower circled 
 in a spiral with bas-reliefs of Napoleon's conquests in 
 Russia, and wrought from Russian arms, erected 
 by the exiled emperor in 1806, to displace an eques- 
 trian statue of Louis XIV. 
 
 The man shuddered as he looked at it, for he was 
 a Russian, and hurried on to the Rue Neuve St. 
 Augustin. There he began counting the numbers, 
 and presently entered a dismal court through a din- 
 gy brownstone front, looking down a narrow alley, 
 that afterward, under the magic finger of Louis
 
 264 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 Napoleon, grew to the grand avenue leading to his 
 royal opera-house. 
 
 As an old woman came to the door, two gray bul- 
 let-eyes were fastened upon her in a way that said, 
 " Be careful and tell me the truth, the whole truth, 
 and nothing but the truth." 
 
 " Is there a Monsieur Rubens living here ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 "Roubeens? Roubeens? No, monsieur. None of 
 that name here." 
 
 "Rubens ! Rubens ! " explained the little man. 
 
 But still the old woman shook her head. "There's no 
 such man as Roubeens here, unless it be an old man 
 on the sixth floor, just moved in, upward of seventy- 
 five. I think, for I am seventy-three, and he told me 
 he was the better of us two, and I know his name is 
 not Roubeens." 
 
 The stranger heard her through. It is impossible 
 to turn the drift of such an one's conversation. They 
 always come back to the point with the clearest heads 
 if let alone. He dropped a five-franc piece into the 
 woman's ready palm, and said, "This Rubens is a 
 young man ; been here about two months ; gives 
 fencing-lessons, you know." 
 
 "Ah, monsieur, there is one Felix, on the third 
 floor, does that, and teaches children in some other 
 things than fencing. Third floor, monsieur. My 
 legs are pretty stiff with age, or I'd go up before you," 
 she added, looking at the five-franc piece. 
 
 A tall, pale man opened the door on the third floor. 
 He was thin, much like one wasting in consumption ; 
 his long hair was combed directly back from his fore- 
 head. His face was smooth-shaven. Green specta-
 
 CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 265 
 
 cles covered his eyes. He was wrapped in a long, 
 flowered dressing-gown and slippers. 
 
 " This is Monsieur Rubens," the little man said, as 
 though he were giving a piece of information. And 
 he looked at the tall man in a way that made him shrink 
 back into a shadow as he replied, " Yes or no ; 
 Monsieur Rubens has left. I am Felix, at your ser- 
 vice." 
 
 " I am sorry. I wanted to see Monsieur Rubens," 
 said the little man, never taking his eyes off the tall 
 fencing-master, which was evidently making him 
 very uncomfortable. 
 
 " Monsieur Rubens left before I came to this house," 
 said he ; " but I will find his address for you. Do 
 you wish to send some word to him ? " 
 
 The little man took his eyes off at last, much to 
 the relief of the fencing-master, and smiling in an 
 incomprehensible way, replied, " Perhaps Monsieur 
 Felix will do as well." 
 
 " If I may be of service, command me." 
 
 " Good ! By that authority I command you to go 
 back with me to Petersburg." 
 
 The fencing-master sprang fairly off his feet, and 
 when he came down again was several shades whiter 
 than before. 
 
 " I cannot," he gasped. " It is impossible ! " 
 
 " Really ?" said the little man. " I thought I was 
 to command you." 
 
 " I tell you I am not Monsieur Felix Rubens, I 
 mean. I " 
 
 "You are confused, monsieur. Call it the good old 
 Wolzonn ; 'tis better than either." 
 
 The little man was right.
 
 266 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 " Found out ! Curse the luck of it ! " groaned Con- 
 stantine Wolzonn, sinking into a chair. 
 
 " And while you are about it," added the little man, 
 " curse the very devil of a hunt I have had for you 
 all over Europe in mid-winter." He removed his 
 wig and false beard, disclosing one of the hunting- 
 party by the Round Lake, an intimate friend of both 
 Wolzonn and Reppoun ; and extending his hand, 
 added, " The game is up, and I have won. Now let's 
 shake hands and talk it over." 
 
 But the fencing-master sullenly refused. 
 
 " By what right do you come here ? " he asked. 
 
 " Bless my soul ! Are you angry ? Then I will 
 wait, explain my authority, and trust for a shake of 
 the hand afterward. I come by order of the Tzar. 
 In fact, from his own purse he pays my expenses, and 
 offers me an honor if I come back successful. He 
 wants to see you." 
 
 " I thought so," groaned the fencing-master. " Do 
 you happen to know what he wants of me ? " 
 
 "He wants you to release the prince, who for three 
 months now has been lying in a horrible dungeon, 
 under charge of committing the murder." 
 
 ""The murder! Yes," said Constantine Wolzonn. 
 Then the man that was in him, covered so far from 
 the light by his years of crime, trembling, and tor- 
 ture, roused itself, and he rose firmly to his feet, say- 
 ing, " Better the right man should suffer than the 
 wrong. Count, here is my hand. I will go back 
 with you to Russia." And the count grasped the 
 hand of one who at that moment, for the first time 
 in his life, actually became a man. 
 
 Constantine Wolzonn was free in Paris. There
 
 CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 267 
 
 was no friendship between the Tzar and France that 
 would not rather invite him to remain than go, if the 
 Tzar wanted him. He plainly saw the result of the 
 step he so calmly resolved to take the rest of his 
 life in the horrible dearth of frozen Siberia. It was 
 an enormous sacrifice, after all he had sacrificed his 
 life through to prevent it, yet he made it cheerfully. 
 More than once in the past three months he hud seri- 
 ously thought of going back, giving himself up, and 
 taking the consequences. When the pinch came he 
 had for the moment rebelled ; but when, on second 
 thought, he said, " I will go back with you," he turned 
 the leaf that had stuck so long, and found a clean page 
 before him, the old man and his record wiped away, 
 and a new life before him, ready for him to make what 
 he could of it. 
 
 They sat down ; neither spoke for. a moment. The 
 count was satisfied that his work was done at last 
 a work which, as will appear, was not for the Tzar, 
 nor yet that his expenses were paid by the crown, nor 
 yet for the promised honor that he had been induced 
 to undertake. He was a member of the Royal Coun- 
 cil. The fencing-master was more than satisfied to 
 be silent, contemplating with a thrill of joy the great 
 turn in the tide of life that was to make of him a de- 
 graded exile, forced to work with might and main for 
 a meager livelihood. At last it occurred to him to 
 ask : 
 
 "Who is this prince arrested for the murder?" 
 "The Prince von Meerschaum, of course." 
 " The Prince von Meerschaum ! He was a baby I 
 Why, man, what murder do you mean? "
 
 268 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 "What murder? General Wolzonn, have you be- 
 come an idiot? The murder of the princess." 
 
 "Not the Princess von Meerschaum?" 
 
 "Yes, the Princess von Meerschaum. Have you 
 not heard from Russia since you left? The press of 
 the world has been full of it." 
 
 " Oh, Heaven ! " groaned the fencing-master. " I 
 had rather be taken back to Russia for something 
 else ! " 
 
 "Then it seems I must begin and tell you all. The 
 prince was suspected from the outset; gave himself 
 up in a strange sort of bravado, and has lain ever 
 since in a dungeon as horrible as could be found. 
 The Tzar gave the matter to the Council, but would 
 not sign the verdict they brought in because the war- 
 rant was not accompanied by every signature. The 
 prince, you know, is a bosom-friend of the Tzar, and 
 on inquiry his Royal Highness learned that several 
 in the Council believed that in some strange way the 
 man was innocent. You almost got your own foot 
 into a warm spot there, for your sudden, mysterious, 
 and unaccountable departure led many to say, ' Gen- 
 eral Wolzonn had a hand in it.' But the prince him- 
 self swore for you that if his wife had a true friend in 
 the world it was General Wolzonn, and sadly injured 
 his own cause by saying to the Tzar, before the Coun- 
 cil, ' Your Majesty, if it lie between General Wolzonn 
 and myself, in common sense let the condemnation 
 rest on me.' Fortunately it was found that you left 
 by ship the morning before the night that the deed 
 was done ; that settled it. But still the Tzar would 
 not sign. I offered to find you, knowing that you 
 were the nearest relative of the princess and intimate,
 
 CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 269 
 
 hoping that you might throw light upon the matter 
 that would save the prince." 
 
 "My dear count," said Constantine Wolzonn, "you 
 have said too much. I promised unguardedly to go 
 with you. From sheer blind madness, I should have 
 gone back with you, and said to the Tzar before the 
 Council, 'Your Majesty, I think he did it.' Look at 
 the burning coals of fire that man has heaped upon 
 my head ! I know absolutely nothing. I should have 
 had no reason ; I should simply, ignorantly have be- 
 lieved he did it, and have said so, knowing that it 
 would have caused his condemnation." 
 
 "Then I have had my labor for my pains, Gen- 
 eral Wolzonn. Were the evidences doubled and tre- 
 bled what they are, were the prince himself to 
 swear 'I did it,' I would still believe, aye, kno-w, 
 that man was innocent." 
 
 "What are the evidences?" asked the fencing- 
 master. 
 
 " Briefly these : It was on the night after the day 
 you sailed. For some strange reason, Leo, my lady's 
 private valet, in her name ordered the butler to keep 
 the servants all in their quarters till he came and 
 called them ; it was just after sundown. Ten o'clock 
 came, and he had not returned. Some of them stole 
 out. The castle was black ; not a light in the build- 
 ing. They heard strange noises. They became fright- 
 ened, and sent down to the village for the priest. He 
 at once dispatched messengers for an officer of the 
 police. The castle-grounds were searched, when no 
 one was found in the castle, and Leo was found 
 stabbed and dying in a clump of trees .it the lower 
 corner of the lawn upon the highway. As he died
 
 270 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 he gasped a dozen times, ' He did it ! he did it ! He 
 has taken her away, and he will kill her too ! ' Then 
 they searched the castle more carefully. Her lady- 
 ship's room was a mass of disorder. No one could 
 doubt that it had been the scene of a struggle. To 
 my mind, that is the least of evidence against the 
 prince ; for had it been a strong man instead of a 
 woman, he could have done what he chose with him 
 without a struggle. There were blood-stains on the 
 floor and bed-curtains. The prince was found lying 
 on his face upon the floor. There were blood-stains 
 on the door, on his hands, and even his dagger 
 a terrible evidence, I confess was wet with blood. 
 He may have killed Leo under some provocation. 
 He wore a heavy fur pelisse, and high- boots which 
 were besmeared with mud. They thought he slept; 
 but when the room was well rilled, he sprang to his 
 feet, exclaiming, 'She has gone. I know it well. 
 You need not come howling it in my ears. Get you 
 away to your beds. It is useless to look for her. 
 You will not see her any more.' And because the 
 man nearest him did not obey, almost before he had 
 ceased speaking he took him in one hand, and, as I 
 live, hurled him through the open door, twenty feet 
 away, before he touched the floor. The next day the 
 princess's marriage-ring was found in possession of a 
 rag-picker, and that, too, was stained with blood." 
 
 " Such evidence, I should think, would surely con- 
 vict a man," said Constantine Wolzonn bitterly, for 
 the thought of such scenes as must have shut earth 
 from the eyes of his cousin roused anew the anger of 
 his life against the Prince Reppoun, notwithstanding 
 that man's magnanimity.
 
 CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 271 
 
 "Then you will not go back?" the count asked, 
 though sadly, for being a warm friend of Prince Rep- 
 poun, he had hoped for his salvation through General 
 Wolzonn. 
 
 "Not till after this matter is settled, no. But then 
 I will go, and present myself to the Tzar and Council, 
 for I too am in need of punishment. I too am a mur- 
 derer, I am an abductor, I am a harborer of deserters 
 from the Russian army. I ! who have lived for thirty 
 years upon the government." You stare, my dear 
 count. You think I am lacking here." He tapped his 
 forehead. "I confess I wonder I am not, after what 
 I have been through ; but that is precisely what I am 
 going to say to the Tzar, and personally ask for my 
 punishment." 
 
 "Do you know -what the punishment would be?" 
 
 "Siberia for any one of the three." 
 
 "Upon my soul, I believe you are a little lacking, 
 General Wolzonn. Why, such a man would be a 
 very devil ; you are looked upon throughout the army 
 as a saint, and you know the Tzar thinks so. How 
 did you commit all these crimes? Come, tell me as a 
 friend. I swear my lips together." He made the 
 sign of the cross. 
 
 " I will bind no man by the simplest promise, friend. 
 I have suffered too much myself by being bound. 
 But I will clinch my resolution to go before the Tzar 
 by making now a clean confession. First, this vile 
 right hand of mine killed the Count von Kramareff." 
 
 " Some two-and-thirty years ago? " asked the count. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "And what of it?" he asked again. 
 
 " What of it ! Why, man, I am a murderer 1 "
 
 272 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 " A murderer, and looking toward Siberia ? " 
 
 " Looking toward Siberia." 
 
 " And is it beyond your comprehension that every 
 nobleman of age in Petersburg, who knows that you 
 killed Count Kramareff, knows that you killed a traitor 
 to the crown, the very night he was plotting the assassi- 
 nation of the Royal Adjutant, and that it is recorded 
 in the council records that for that deed you were 
 made a major? Can a man be sent to Siberia for 
 that?" 
 
 Constantine Wolzonn stared at him with open mouth 
 and eyes. At last he began mechanically with his 
 second crime. 
 
 " But I stole a child ; I was forced to it. I know not 
 to this day who or what she was. I was directed to 
 go to a ship that was coming to the wharf. I obeyed 
 one whom I considered my master. A very lying 
 fiend ! The captain gave me a child, wrapped in a 
 basket. I started with her from St. Petersburg by 
 post. I met a man who had deserted General Kra- 
 mareff's brigade. I told him to take the child and 
 care for her, and that for it I would support her, start 
 him in business, and let him go free from punish- 
 ment." 
 
 " You stole a child ? " 
 
 " I did." 
 
 " And for that are looking toward Siberia? " 
 
 "lam." 
 
 " How do you know you stole her? " 
 
 " I took her." 
 
 "The captain gave her to you? " 
 
 " He did."
 
 CIRCUMSTANTIAL, EVIDENCE. 273 
 
 "Did any one miss her? Was any search made 
 for her that you endeavored to conceal ? " 
 
 " I do not so much as know who she was or from 
 whom she came." 
 
 " And yet you stole her? That is absurd ! Can a 
 man be sent to Siberia for stealing a child, when the 
 child is given to him, and he is asked to care for her? 
 The patrons of our orphan asylum must be bitter 
 knaves." 
 
 "But the deserter!" said Constantine Wolzonn, 
 with a look of bewildered wonder, like a child before 
 a conjurer. 
 
 "Perhaps your supporting him was criminal, per- 
 haps it was not. You did not aid him to escape. You 
 did not help him hide himself, or try to conceal him. 
 You failed to report him to be sure, but how long ago 
 was it?" 
 
 "Twenty-seven years ago. The girl was nearly 
 three years old, a tiny little thing." 
 
 "Twenty-seven years ago you failed to report a 
 deserter. Why, man ! but seven years ago your name 
 was lauded all over Russia as the right hand that 
 lifted Nicholas to his throne. For it he made you a 
 general. Could a failure, as a boy, to report a de- 
 serter be raked up from twenty years before that time 
 to drive you to Siberia?" 
 
 Constantine Wolzonn was nonplused. Faintly he 
 murmured, " What a fool I have been ! " 
 
 "Just so, General Wolzonn," said the count, "you 
 have been a very fool ! And many a man is by his 
 conscience made a fool, because against his con- 
 science he has made himself a knave." 
 
 Constanline Wolzonn was in no mood to be made 
 18
 
 274 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 angry by such plain, friendly talk. It was too true. 
 He knew it, and confessed it. It mattered little for 
 his conscience' sake whether the deeds he had done, 
 clearly believing them to be crimes against God and 
 man, were punishable in the courts below, they surely 
 were above. Nevertheless he was much relieved, for 
 while his resolution for a better life remained the same, 
 a resolution made many times before in words, but 
 never with the true will till he had saidj " I will go 
 back with you to Russia," he would now be able to 
 put into effect under a much more favorable sun. 
 
 Long and earnest!} 7 the two friends conversed to- 
 gether over the sad horror of Castle Foam, and not 
 without bitter shudders, clutchings of his fists, and 
 grindings of his teeth, did the fencing-master revert to 
 the prince, who, dungeoned in the snow-bound Rus- 
 sian capital, had need of anything but bitter thoughts 
 of vengeance. 
 
 The Emperor's Prison is a bad enough place to-day ; 
 it was an infinitely worse place then. Lake Liman's 
 Chillon, Paris's Conciergerie, Constantinople's Gate 
 of Hell, and Venice's over the Bridge of Sighs from 
 the Ducal Palace, were all combined in it. 
 
 Five-and-twenty feet under the ground-level a dun- 
 geon floor of solid stone was laid. Far upon the 
 arched roof a narrow slit in the rock was made to 
 admit a finger-breadth of light and air ; but even that 
 was so shielded to prevent communication from the 
 outside, that high noon was dim twilight, and the 
 longest day not over four or five hours at the most. 
 This was the strongest and deepest dungeon of the 
 prison, and over it that blood-chilling motto was in- 
 scribed : " JLasciate ogni speranga, vol c/i entrate"
 
 CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 275 
 
 Even this was not enough to enforce the will of the 
 law upon criminals, and in the center of the room, to 
 a heavy block sunk in the floor, an iron ring was 
 welded; to this, by unusually heavy chains upon his 
 wrists and ankles, the Prince von Meerschaum was 
 bound. The Tzar was indeed his friend, and de- 
 clared that the man should not be punished while 
 there was a doubt that might save him. Beyond this, 
 however, he could not go, for a sovereign is, after all, 
 but the slave of his subjects, and the charge of the 
 prisoner had to be left entirely in the hands of the 
 jailer. The prince and the jailer did not agree well 
 together ; the prince had struck him in the face, be- 
 fore the soldiers, and for that insolence was given the 
 dungeon he now occupied. 
 
 Hurled from the pride of his high throne to such 
 a low stone footstool, it may be imagined that the 
 prince was not an amiable guest, nor easily pleased 
 with the familiarities of the jailer. 
 
 At the time when Constantine Wolzonn and his 
 friend were speaking of him he was sitting on the low 
 stone hassock, his head buried in his hands, upon his 
 knees, saying to himself, as many times before : 
 
 "What is it, what is it all about? Three months 
 I have sat here and have not yet found out. Did I 
 do it? Did jealousy madden me? Did I do it in my 
 sleep? It is impossible ! Did she not tell me she was 
 going? Did she mean she was going to die, and did 
 I help her? Was I drugged with fury? O God in 
 heaven, wipe out this mystery ! Why could I not 
 have murdered that despicable Dane instead?" He 
 shuddered, and the chains rattled on his arms. "How 
 the chains clank and clatter, like the cables of a
 
 276 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 ship ! " he muttered. " How the lizards run from the 
 echo as it climbs up, up, up on one side, and then 
 comes down on the other ! I wish I knew whether I 
 were a murderer ! Murderer ! There goes the echo, 
 and the lizards run from it ! " 
 
 He wrote upon the floor with his ringer, pronouncing 
 the letters as he made them :" MURDERER. That 
 is not a long word ; no. Not many a prince's tomb 
 has borne so short an epitaph. My chair in the coun- 
 cil-chamber stands vacant. I see it when the jailer 
 with a company of soldiers takes me up. My boy 
 Victor will sit there by and-by, in that happy day 
 when he is independent and a prince. Poor boy ! 
 He's son of a murderer now, not son of a prince ! " 
 
 It was so still in the dungeon that the lizards ven- 
 tured even to run across the floor. They started a 
 little when heavy sobs jarred the chains, and perhaps 
 they looked and wondered at tears that fell fast from 
 eyes that, from the first fair pictures of earliest boy- 
 hood, had not known what it was to cry. 
 
 "Yes," he sighed at last, "I suppose I am a mur- 
 derer. I confessed it to the Council yesterday, to set- 
 tle the matter in some way, and I have seen my last 
 of life and Russia. Farewell ! farewell I The blun- 
 der of an hour wipes out in eleven years of misery a 
 life of joy and then wipes out the blunderer. A whiff* 
 of dust caught up by a passing gust, dropped in an 
 instant and forever, the only record I can leave be- 
 hind me is the record of a murderer. Ten years 
 ago, 
 
 " ' A still, small voice said unto me, 
 Life is so full of misery, 
 Were it not better not to be?'
 
 CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 277 
 
 I wish I had listened. I wish I had listened to honor 
 first down by Arantha. I wish I had listened to jus- 
 tice afterward, and loved my wife. Who under heaven 
 deserves a punishment more than I? And what have 
 I done in all my life that I should ask for absolu- 
 tion?" The jailer's key sounded without, turning the 
 bolts. " There comes the jailer ! " he said with a hard, 
 metallic laugh, " comes with his armed soldiers to take 
 me chained before the Council ! What fearful cow- 
 ards mortals are ! " 
 
 The door opened wide enough for Heinrich Char- 
 lovitz to enter, then closed again. The priest seated 
 himself close in the corner by the door, upon a narrow 
 stone bench that surrounded the cell. The prisoner's 
 head still rested in his hands. Father Charlovitz 
 shuddered. It was the first time he had visited the 
 prince. He looked suspiciously at the chains that 
 bound him. He examined every link that he could 
 see, as if fearful of a flaw somewhere in their manu- 
 facture. Why should he, of all men, fear a flaw, he, 
 the friend of Prince Reppoun ? 
 
 Timidly he asked, " May I speak with my lord, the 
 prince? " 
 
 Victor Reppoun made no answer till he had asked 
 again, then, without moving, he sullenly replied, " So 
 you have not much to say, speak on." 
 
 "Then I will speak," said Father Charlovitz, "for 
 I have not much to say. I will only tell the prince a 
 dream that I have dreamed of an honest man, a faith- 
 ful servant of his lord, who, when in the act of one of 
 the greatest sacrifices of his life to the duty he owed 
 that lord, was caught by him, beaten like a very dog, 
 and left for dead without assistance, or even so much
 
 278 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 as an apology ; the pride of his life broken down for 
 doing a kindness." 
 
 The prince shuddered ; the priest laughed aloud. 
 
 " I have spoken long enough. The prince becomes 
 weary. I will say no more, except of the vengeance. 
 Did the prince think that his wife had been murdered? 
 No, no. He has not mourned and wept, as I have 
 heard, like such a man, or I should have come 
 sooner to comfort him ; to tell him that she lives, that 
 she is happy and safe in the arms of Count Albrecht 
 von Bremen." 
 
 The prince, writhing in every nerve, slowly raised 
 his head. The priest shrank closer into the corner, 
 looked again at the chains and laughed. 
 
 " Yes, yes. And now for the sequel. It is very short, 
 my lord. Those are the hands that struck a faithful 
 priest while he was serving you as never man was 
 served before. These are the hands that by scattering 
 blood and confusion about the castle, by dipping your 
 dagger in blood as you lay in a swoon upon the floor, 
 and by several other devices, aided by Albrecht von 
 Bremen, who doubtless killed the young soul Leo, 
 bound on those chains. Now I am satisfied. By a 
 little testimony, which I propose to give the Council, 
 I shall release you. But if you are not satisfied, be- 
 ware ! By another word I can thrust you from Meer- 
 schaum as an illegitimate child in the princedom." 
 
 Slowly rising to his extraordinary height, the priest 
 continued : "Yes, it was I ! // I ! who did it. And 
 now I hope I have not killed the prince ! " 
 
 " You did it ! " said the prince slowly, sitting erect. 
 " No ! Heinrich Charlovitz, I am not satisfied! " 
 
 With all the dormant fury that lay sleeping in his
 
 CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 279 
 
 iron frame, the prince sprang toward the black-robed 
 hypocrite, and before his eyes the priest saw those 
 heavy chains snap like glass. 
 
 "Oh, help!" h shrieked, and fell senseless on the 
 floor, though the prince had not touched him. 
 
 Victor Reppoun stood erect, folded his arms, upon 
 which the broken chains were idly swinging, and 
 smiled on the prostrate form, saying scornfully, " And 
 still they touch the ground when the Prince von Meer- 
 schaum rises." 
 
 Suddenly the name had again assumed its dignity 
 in his ears. 
 
 The door swung open. A dozen muskets were 
 pointed at him, and as many swords flashed in the 
 light of the lanterns, but not one man crossed the sill. 
 
 " Come in ! come in, brave men ! " he said, smiling, 
 "I will not harm you. Your jailer must give me 
 stronger chains, if he does not wish me to frighten 
 my visitors. These are but playthings." 
 
 He struck the broken links together, and the echo 
 went up on one side and down on the other, but the 
 lizards had long before disappeared.* 
 
 A voice sounded from the hall, above the hubbub, 
 " Sir jailer, admit me to the cell ! " 
 
 " But I cannot," replied the jailer. " The prisoner 
 has burst his chains, and is meditating some great 
 massacre." 
 
 The voice said again : " But I am bidden by the 
 
 * The chains that were severed lie to-day in the relic gallery 
 of a Russian prison. The writer once lifted those chains in his 
 hands, and felt of the links that were twisted and broken; and a 
 thrill of amazement filled him, never felt before, at the realization 
 of the strength that lay in one man's arm.
 
 280 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 Council to read this warrant and bring them an an- 
 swer." 
 
 "Then stand without," said the jailer, beside him- 
 self with excitement. " Let only the guard go in." 
 
 There was a flurry among the guard. None of 
 them wanted to be first, many would rather have been 
 last, but they all got in at last ; and standing on a stool 
 in the doorway, the messenger read a long document. 
 The substance of it was, that through the leniency of 
 the Council and the conviction of the Tzar that the 
 prince was not guilty in spite of his confession, the 
 punishment determined upon was as light as a punish- 
 ment could be. He was simply to be exiled from 
 Russia and deprived of his title. His estates were to 
 be held by the crown for his son at majority. He was 
 to receive an annual pension of ten thousand rubles 
 from the government ; but if ever found on Russian 
 soil again, was to be treated as a common murderer. 
 The prince never knew how much of love there was 
 wrought into that, that saved him from Siberia. He 
 stood with folded arms, and when the messenger had 
 finished speaking, said : 
 
 " So I am free. Freedom, sweet freedom ! And 
 withal I am only an exile not a murderer. Think 
 of that, Victor, when you hold the scepter of Meer- 
 schaum. And now, .Cartaphilus, thou Wandering 
 Jew, thou who hast well learned by this, come, take 
 my hand, and show me how to wander." 
 
 He had forgotten that he was not alone. Suddenly 
 turning to the messenger, with a bow and a half smile, 
 he said, " Yes, I will go. The generous offer of a 
 yearly stipend I decline. Sooner than eat the bread 
 of Russia's charity, let the silver cord be loosed. Bear
 
 CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 28l 
 
 you this word to the Council. Tell it, I will go away 
 from Russia, and carry it this solemn oath:" he 
 raised his hands reverently, while the chains swung 
 from his wrists, "Never, whatever hap may tide, 
 will I press her soil again ! "
 
 282 CASTLJ3 FOAM. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 HEINRICH CHARLOVITZ AND THE BOY VICTOR. 
 
 SLOWLY, very slowly, Heinrich Charlovitz opened 
 his eyes to the daylight sunken, expressionless 
 eyes, over which the lids like tissue were painfully 
 strained. 
 
 "Where am I? what am I?" he asked in a weak, 
 hoarse whisper, instead of the strong voice he ex- 
 pected, and the effort caused him excruciating pain. 
 Suddenly a hand appeared from the shadows that 
 surrounded him ; it was laid on his forehead, and a 
 voice said, "Thank God, the worst is over, and you 
 are better, good father. But, for mercy's sake, lie 
 quietly, and try to sleep." 
 
 This last had been called for by an involuntary 
 shudder and cringe, and a weak struggle, on the part 
 of the priest. Why, he did not know ; but with the 
 hand and the voice coming out of the shadow a terri- 
 ble vision had appeared, of grim stone walls, ugly 
 giants, gnashing teeth, broken chains, and a fright- 
 ful realization of some one not well satisfied. From 
 that he had struggled. 
 
 In an hour he woke again. The mists were not 
 so thick about the bed, and for the first time in one- 
 and-twenty days he comprehended that he had passed 
 from the dungeon into a long, terrible fever.
 
 CHARLOVITZ AND THE BOY VICTOR. 283 
 
 By very tedious steps he climbed up toward health 
 again ; but a heavy weight pressed hard upon him. 
 His face and form never regained that young, strong 
 grace; and when his black, curling hair grew again, 
 it was loaded with silver. 
 
 What a grim pleasure we are prone to take in 
 gloating over our miseries, only to make them more 
 intolerable ! This feeling caused Father Charlovitz 
 to repeat many times, as he walked with his open 
 book, that passage from Virgil, not to be found in 
 the Book, beginning, K Facilis descensus Averni," and 
 ending with "hie labor est" about the descent into 
 hell being easy, but the climbing up again being very, 
 very hard. 
 
 How soon children learn what is expected of them ! 
 The little ones of Schaumburg, that used to leap for 
 joy and run to meet him, now crept away behind the 
 trees till he had passed. "He is so sober and sad," 
 they said. 
 
 The priest's young wife, wearied out with watch- 
 ing, had fallen victim to the fierce northern fever, and 
 died before the priest returned to consciousness, fol- 
 lowed closely by their only child. The village people 
 said, " How terribly he feels his loss ! " and the women 
 prayed and wept for him, and wondered who his next 
 wife would be. 
 
 " For man looketh on the outward appearance." 
 
 He had regained sufficient strength to conduct the 
 services. He entered the little church with a shudder. 
 It was crowded. The only vacant seats were the raised 
 chairs under the balcony at the left of the altar, where 
 the prince and princess and Victor used to sit. All
 
 284 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 the village had come out to celebrate the recovery of 
 Father Charlovitz. The priest stopped by the cur- 
 tain shutting off the Holy of Holies. He looked up 
 at the vacant chairs, and muttered, "I did it." Just 
 beyond them was a beautiful window, the gift of the 
 princess upon her marriage-day. It was an illumina- 
 tion of Da Vinci's " Last Supper," from the dilapidated 
 chapel in Milan. He who has overturned his pot of 
 salt seemed to the priest to fix his eyes on him, and 
 nod, and smile, as who should say, " Come on ; don't 
 hesitate. We are all here, brother." He was trem- 
 bling violently. He staggered away from the Holy 
 of Holies ; he left the altar and went out into the little 
 study in the rear and locked the door. There was no 
 service, after all, in the church at Schaumburg, ex- 
 cept an offering of women's tears. 
 
 That night the priest looked down on the little vil- 
 lage from an eminence behind the castle. It nestled 
 warmly in the valley, a black shadow in the broad 
 field of snow. Heinrich Charlovitz looked till tears 
 shut out the picture. He leaned against an ice-cov- 
 ered trunk and let the tears have their full satisfac- 
 tion. 
 
 "To return good for evil," said he, "is God-like. 
 A priest should be like his Lord; but I have not 
 been. To return good for good is man-like ; I have 
 not been a man. To return evil for evil is beast-like ; 
 I have done more than that. To return evil for good 
 is devil-like ; I have been a devil. Lo, I who have 
 preached to others am myself become a castaway ! " 
 
 He was left alone. He felt alone; that all-alone 
 loneliness crept over him that stings the sensitive soul 
 sometimes, when apparently reft of friends, shunned
 
 CHARLOVITZ AND THE BOY VICTOR. 285 
 
 by strangers, and even by one's self deserted. Home- 
 sickness perhaps it is ; a terrible heart-sickness, what- 
 ever else. 
 
 Heinrich Charlovitz knelt in the snow and uncov- 
 ered his head, alone under the star-sprinkled blue, 
 and clasping his hands, he prayed : 
 
 "Oh, save me! save me! Father all-powerful, if 
 it be possible ; show me my path, and I will walk in 
 it ! Show me the sacrifice, and I will so willingly 
 make it, be it my life or my most precious Isaac, that 
 Thou canst have mercy upon me ! " A prayer that, 
 if prayed in faith, whether to saint or Saviour, block 
 of wood or image cut in stone, could not be left 
 unanswered by Him unto whose throne stand open 
 twelve different gates of pearl. 
 
 The morning was slowly breaking ; a morning star 
 of Hope seemed to rise in the heart, of the prayer that, 
 though cold, dead and buried, had yet urged him on 
 to wrestle all night for that blessing, on the hillside 
 looking down over Schaumburg. A voice from heaven 
 seemed to speak to him. He raised his eyes, and sol- 
 emnly replied, " I will." 
 
 He left the village behind him and entered the 
 castle. Victor had spent the day before there with 
 his guardian, preparing all his little worldly goods, 
 to leave in the morning for Italy. At sunrise the boy 
 would start ; the priest must bid him farewell with the 
 customary blessing. Last night he could not have 
 done it; this morning he thought he could. 
 
 It was little Victor's own will to go to Italy. Gen- 
 eral Wolzonn had returned to St. Petersburg. As his 
 friend the count had predicted, the Tzar extended to 
 him full pardon to cover all the past, returned his
 
 286 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 commission, and as he was the nearest relative of the 
 little prince, appointed him his guardian. 
 
 General Wolzonn was loath to take the position at 
 first ; and before he accepted, visited the military 
 school where the boy had been placed four months 
 before. The winter was far spent, the day was clear 
 and mild, and the school en masse was enjoying a 
 mock battle with snowballs and snow forts, much 
 like any other boys in any other part of this wide 
 world, that, after all, is very much alike in all its 
 parts. 
 
 There had risen a dispute between Victor upon one 
 side, and a smaller boy on the other. Shielded from 
 observation, General Wolzonn approached and lis- 
 tened. " Fight it out with your fists," suggested the 
 largest and oldest boy of the company, sitting on the 
 top of one of the forts. "He is not so large as I," 
 said Victor, looking up surprised at the suggestion. 
 
 "That's nothing," said the big boy. " He's older 
 than you, and you must knock him down, or you 
 lose your side. Fight it out with your fists." 
 
 " He is not so large as I," repeated Victor. " If that 
 is the only way to settle it, I will give in, for all I 
 know I'm right." 
 
 " Fight it out with your fists ! Come, be quick ! " 
 shouted the boy astride the fort. 
 
 "No, I will not fight it out with my fists," said Vic- 
 tor, stamping the snow with his little foot, and clinch- 
 ing the little fists that were not ready to strike a boy 
 smaller than himself, even for the bully of the school. 
 " My father says that such a thing is cowardly ! " he 
 exclaimed, (( and I will not be a coward! " 
 
 "You are a coward ! " growled the big boy, disap-
 
 CHARLOVITZ AND THE BOY VICTOR. 287 
 
 pointed at not seeing the fight ; and not satisfied with 
 that, added, after a boy's fashion, "and your father's a 
 murderer." 
 
 Victor's face flushed purple in an instant. He spat 
 upon the snow among the peasants a significance 
 of utmost scorn. " Lick spittle ! Dog of other dogs ! " 
 said he. " You are a liar ! " This much he had 
 probably heard among his father's serfs, and repeated 
 it in his rage, knowing very little of its significance ; 
 but of what followed he meant, every word. w Come 
 down from, that pile of snow, and big as you are I'll 
 make you wish, for saying that, I'd never come here 
 to school." 
 
 The bully hesitated. Possibly he thought it was not 
 worth his while. He attempted to laugh it off; but 
 such a roar went up from among the boys at his ex- 
 pense, that he slid down from the fort, and at the first 
 careless assault received the little fist fair on his nose. 
 The blood spurted, and the boys cheered. But the 
 bully was thoroughly enraged, and would doubtless 
 have used the inexperienced little pugilist roughly, 
 had not General Wolzonn determined that the affair 
 had gone far enough, and stepped into view. 
 
 The appearance of a general's uniform sent a cold 
 chill of awe over the boys of the military school. 
 They all sprang into position, and saluted, all but 
 Victor. He opened his little fists and his little arms, 
 and ran forward with a cry of joy. As he looked up 
 into the officer's face, his eyes were bright with tears, 
 and two were gliding over his ruddy cheeks. His 
 hair was cut short. How changed he was ! He 
 looked ten years older than he had six months before. 
 
 But Constantine Wolzonn was a soldier again. He
 
 288 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 only held the boy's hand for an instant ; then return- 
 ing the salute of the little soldiers, said, " I want to 
 see you," and walked away to the house, followed by 
 Victor, to the envy of every boy in school, even the 
 big bully, who was r*iwn. behind the fort, wiping the 
 blood from his nose with snow. 
 
 " I'll thrash him nicely for that," he said to one or 
 two who still stood by him ; but he never saw the 
 child again. 
 
 Once shut up with the boy in his own little room, 
 General Wolzonn extended both hands, as of old at 
 Meerschaum, and exclaimed, "Vic., my little prince, 
 you did that well ! " 
 
 The boy's face fell. He stepped back and regarded 
 the officer suspiciously. 
 
 " Why do you call me prince? " he said. " I would 
 not be a prince in Russia. I would not be the Tzar 
 and live in Russia." 
 
 His cheeks flushed, his lips quivered, his eyes shone 
 as they had on the play-ground, and he stamped upon 
 the floor as he would have trampled the whole Rus- 
 sian empire in the dust had he only been strong enough. 
 
 " Pardon me, Victor, I did not come here to vex you ; 
 I came to talk with you. I have been appointed your 
 guardian, and I do not want to take the place unless 
 you wish it." 
 
 "What to do?" asked the boy, doubtfully. 
 
 " To take care of you." 
 
 " I can take care of myself." 
 
 " But if you are sick ? " 
 
 "I'll not be sick ; and if I am, mamma will come to 
 me. Papa would too, I can tell you, if he could." 
 
 " Aha ! my dear boy, I am afraid "
 
 CHARLOVITZ AND THE BOY VICTOR. 289 
 
 " Stop there ! " exclaimed the child, as though he 
 were a man, "I am not afraid. They have told me 
 dreadful lies about my father, and say I am only a boy 
 and must believe them. But I don't ! I won't ! I 
 never will, and by and by I'll be a man, papa said I 
 should, and I'll tell them what miserable cowards they 
 have been to treat my father so." 
 
 " Then you will hot go with me," said the officer. 
 
 "Perhaps I will. You were always good to me. 
 But if I do go with you, and you tell me any lies about 
 my father, I will kill you." 
 
 The boy's eyes flashed. He was in desperate ear- 
 nest. The officer almost wished he had decided not 
 to go. 
 
 But Victor went with him. His first choice and firm 
 resolve, winter though it were, was to start at once for 
 Italy, to see the paintings he had learned to love from 
 copies in his father's collection, and to find there his 
 father and mother. The general did not contradict this 
 hope again, though the boy purposely expressed it 
 many times in his hearing. 
 
 "A marvelous boy that," the guardian thought to 
 himself at the military school, "a marvelous boy." 
 And many times thereafter he had occasion to repeat 
 it, as the child braved the tedious journey. And 
 when Florence, beautiful Florence, had been reached, 
 he was no more the petted and petulant son of an 
 exalted nobleman, or the indignant child of an exiled 
 prince, but a new creature altogether, as he found 
 himself standing on the shore of a novel and attractive 
 element, then swimming in a luxurious flood. 
 
 He sat day after day in unapproachable silence in 
 the great galleries ; more often than anywhere else,
 
 290 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 upon an unpopular, because uncushioned, bench in 
 the corner of the Tribune, with Guido, Correggio, and 
 Domenichino before him, and, dearest of all to him, 
 Titian's lovely Venus. The most perfect conception 
 of purity were those two lips to him ; the neck, how 
 delicate ! the shadow of the chin upon it, and the light 
 veins crossing it, how exquisite ! Life lay in those 
 lights and shadows, and his ardor knew no bounds 
 while he was watching it. And when the gallery 
 doors were closed, many a time he had wandered up 
 and down the Lung Arno, and far down the Casine 
 beyond the wall that fences in the river, and lying 
 on the grassy bank through the Italian sunsets, he 
 would watch the picture still, reflected in the river. - 
 
 Once, when on his way home as the sun was sinking 
 (it chanced he was without his guardian', and for that 
 went earlier), he stopped and leaned over the stone 
 abutment, just below the Jewelers' Bridge, to look at 
 the picture again in the eddying river. His knife was 
 open in his hand. Carelessly, while almost lying on 
 the broad stone cap, he began to chip the granite with 
 his blade. He grew excited in his work. His cheeks 
 were aglow. He worked eagerly, and as the sun 
 dropped down below the river he drew the knife away, 
 and with bated breath looked at his first copy of 
 Titian's rare Venus. Rude enough it was on the sand- 
 stone wall, but beautiful to the boy as feet upon the 
 mountain bringing him glad tidings. 
 
 He remembered the easel in his father's library, with 
 canvases upon it half done or just begun, and the 
 brushes and palettes daubed with paint, just such as 
 the artists used in Florence. His father must have been 
 an artist, though he had never thought of it before,
 
 CHARLOVITZ AND THE BOY VICTOR. 2pl 
 
 and if so, he himself could be an artist if he tried. 
 On the Jewelers' Bridge, just midway between the 
 river-banks, where there is a break in little shops and 
 the river appears, he stopped to resolve, firmly, un- 
 changeably, that he would try. 
 
 The general found it useless trying to dissuade him. 
 He would not indeed he could not give it up. 
 He had eaten the lotos. He was as passionately in 
 love with the beautiful art as his father before him had 
 been with the beautiful Kathi. The guardian in- 
 trusted his charge to the care of an Italian artist, who 
 had taken a strange liking to the boy, a man of abil- 
 ity, who was to instruct him ; and of common sense, 
 who was to care for him, and having received the 
 position of Russian military consul in Syria, left Victor 
 in Florence to establish himself in Beyroot.
 
 292 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 FREEDOM AND FETTERS. 
 
 HOT as the flames that licked the feet of Dante 
 treading the path " Purgatorio," fell the dry, 
 parching glare of the summer sun all over Egypt. 
 The Nile flowed silently onward. Its yellow-white 
 waters creeping languidly along the steaming banks, 
 were much inclined to stop there, and drying up, float 
 off altogether on the dusty air, to try if that were not 
 a less wearisome journey to the far-away, beautiful, 
 dashing sea, whither it had wandered so long, and 
 yet had only touched the hem of the flowing robe of 
 lovely Cairo, the Viceroy's New Harem. 
 
 The sleek, shining rats ran lazily out of only half 
 dug holes in the bullrushes on the bank, to sit upon 
 their haunches, fold their fore-paws into little balls of 
 fur to wash their faces with, while they blinked their 
 bright black eyes at passers-by on the road from the 
 city to the three great lower pyramids, in an indepen- 
 dent way that seemed to say, "Indeed, I'm not at all 
 afraid of you. You'll not take the trouble to kill a rat 
 on a hot day like this." 
 
 Down that road jogged many a lonely Arab, his 
 pack upon his back, his turban pushed from his vein- 
 less copper forehead, his lips moving in pantomime of 
 speech, repeating passages from the sacred Koran, as
 
 FREEDOM AND FETTERS. 293 
 
 he pilgrimaged to Mecca. Often he would stop to 
 wet his lips in the sacred river, murmuring, " Bless 
 the Lord for water ! " as he moved on again. 
 
 Beyond lay the city, and through the great arches 
 of the bridge the old palace and cathedral were vis- 
 ible, their domes and turrets and a forest of tapering 
 minarets glowing in the golden glory of the high sun. 
 Along the river-bank abreast the city half-naked na- 
 tives were always bathing, in compliance with the 
 valuable sanitary laws of Mohammed, while up the 
 long streets behind them crowds hustled and jostled 
 the livelong day. 
 
 Not another city the sun shines upon has such a 
 continuous, motley throng from all the four quarters 
 of the earth as Cairo. There the naked beggar crowds 
 past the sheik, whose proud head would not deign to 
 bend to one lower than the Sultan or his Viceroy ; and 
 the haggard woman with her bundle of sticks, her 
 dingy body clad only in a worn-out petticoat, brushes 
 the skirts of a wealthy European lady, whose desire 
 to see the sold sights or purchase Eastern clothes and 
 jewels at the Oriental street-corners has called her 
 where the houses are too close together to admit the 
 wheels of her Western coach. There the proud Turk, 
 with his turban of green, insignia he has won on a 
 pilgrimage to Mecca, pushing to one side and gath- 
 ering his robes in his hand to avoid their catching 
 upon a fruit-vender's stand, strikes shoulder to shoul- 
 der with a groveling slave, whose features and color 
 bear still the lingering imprint of the original Egyptian 
 type, brought down in hieroglyphic art, and whose 
 cheeks are branded by a hot iron with the name of 
 his master. A huge, broad-shouldered chieftain from
 
 294 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 the south, a black prince of Zanzibar, with thick lips 
 and heavy forehead sloping backward, a broad white 
 turban, and white linen enough wound gracefully 
 about him to have covered a small army of his naked 
 black vassals, sits cross-legged on a cushion at a 
 street cafe beside a slender, pale-faced Greek, and 
 .lights a tiny cigarette at the huge nargile which the 
 Greek is laboriously smoking. An Egyptian soldier, 
 with a savage, curving sword and highly ornamented 
 gun, brushes carelessly past an English naval officer. 
 The English officer turns sharply, mutters the Eng- 
 lish curse, and stops to brush with his silk handker- 
 chief the spot where the soldier touched his uniform. 
 An American, in the uniform of a Turkish officer of 
 high rank, hired by Mehemet Ali to live in Cairo and 
 draw a governor's salary, steps one side and laughs 
 at it, lights a cigar, says " By George ! " and watches 
 the Englishman while he brushes. 
 
 Close upon this display of national pride and per- 
 sonal importance came quite another, headed by a 
 man riding on a gaily dressed donkey. "Amahmcil 
 JRuh ! Amahmal Ruh!" he cried in a loud, ringing 
 voice, as he rode along, which meant nothing less 
 than " Turn out ! turn out ! " to every one indiscrim- 
 inately. Behind him, led by a cord fastened to his 
 saddle, was the lead-camel of a long caravan, and on 
 the back of the camel sat the chief of the caravan, 
 clad in the princely purple, fine linen and gold, a 
 proud Ethiopian from the desert border, bringing oil 
 and spices into the rich market. Before his approach, 
 as announced by his crier, market-women turned their 
 raw-boned mules into the first by-way, while money- 
 changers' stands and venders' tables suffered frofn the
 
 FREEDOM AND FETTERS. 295 
 
 unceremonious hurry, and donkey-boys, with a punch 
 and a yell, turned their beasts about, regardless as to 
 whose toes they trod upon ; for might made right in 
 those days in the streets of Cairo, and they are not 
 very different to-day, when the weaker must turn out 
 for the stronger, because the streets are not wide 
 enough for them to pass. 
 
 "Amahmal Ruh! Amahmal Ruh ! " cried the donkey- 
 rider, as a man on horseback approached, when even 
 the American, Egyptian, and proud English naval 
 officer had stepped into alleys to let the greater man 
 than they go past. 
 
 "Amahmal! Amahmal! " shouted the rider on horse- 
 back, in a voice that made the black sheik in the cafe 
 start and the Greek drop the tube of his nargile, while 
 the English officer looked at the American and said 
 "Damn!" and the American blew a wreath of smoke 
 into the air, sent a low whistle through it, and said 
 " By George ! " for there was but one alley leading 
 from the narrow street between the horse and the 
 donkey. Either the horse or the caravan must turn 
 down that way, and the rider on horseback virtually 
 shouted " Turn out yourself ! " 
 
 . The leader on the donkey looked back at the chief- 
 tain, over whose dark face an angry flush spread a 
 richer glow. He rose upon one knee on his cam- 
 el's back, and in as deep a stentorian voice as ever 
 broke the monotonous vociferations of the street, cried, 
 "Amahmal Ruh ! " 
 
 He might as well have warned the west wind to 
 turn its course for him ; and as he threw his gun to 
 his shoulder the stranger dashed a pistol from his
 
 296 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 belt. They flashed together a single report from 
 the two weapons. 
 
 A wild cry rent the air ; a cloud of purple, fine linen 
 and gold, a turban and sandals, and a writhing Ethi- 
 opian chieftain fell into the filthy gutter of the nar- 
 row street. 
 
 The English officer pressed forward with a "Damn" 
 upon his lips ; the American pushed to the front, sup- 
 plementing a low whistle with a faint "By George ! " 
 
 When quiet was restored, no one thought to look 
 for the bold claimant of the path. He had gone; 
 but why should he not? The caravan would not turn 
 out for him. He had dared dispute the way and turn 
 the leader into the gutter. Why should he not have 
 been satisfied and gone? It was fairly done, and the 
 world went on as before. He was a white-faced 
 stranger, dressed in Oriental robes, and mounted on 
 as fine a coal-black horse as ever trod the ground. 
 This much they knew, and let the rest go by. 
 
 But the coal-black horse had been given to a ser- 
 vant of the Hotel du Nil a little later, and the white- 
 faced stranger in Oriental robes had entered the 
 court. 
 
 A beautiful court was that of Hotel du Nil, almost 
 as fine as it is to-day, covering an acre of ground with 
 winding walks paved in white marble that shone as 
 though the " Epiphany " frosts of Russia covered them, 
 interlacing gardens where in only tropical profusion ap- 
 peared every gorgeous color of the earth. A fountain 
 trickled in the midst of each garden, and in the center 
 of the court stood a royal pavilion, built in the form 
 of a pagoda, and supplied with divans, punkas, papers, 
 tables, and a limited collection of books.
 
 FREEDOM AND FETTERS. 2p7 
 
 The proprietor saw the man enter and hurried to meet 
 him, removing his little red cap and bowing very low. 
 
 "Have you enjoyed your ride, monsieur? I hope 
 this warm weather will not drive you away from us," 
 he said, then noticing the face before him he ex- 
 claimed, " But why does the monsieur look so pale 
 to-day? Mon Dieu ! mon Dieu ! mon Dieu ! what 
 is the matter with the arm? Gracious me! it drips 
 with blood." 
 
 He had scarcely arranged his guest, with almost 
 a mother's tenderness, in his apartments, ordered 
 the servants to remain in waiting, placed wine and i\ 
 dish of his most delicious fruit before him, and sent 
 three servants, offering gold to the one who should 
 first appear with an English, French, or German doc- 
 tor, when called away to meet some new arrivals. 
 
 It was a monsieur and madame of middle age, who 
 came, the man a little beyond it ; a servant or two, and 
 a hand-bag or two. 
 
 "Will these rooms please you, monsieur?" asked 
 the polite proprietor, bowing and showing his goods. 
 
 " H'm if we've no complaints to make, your busi- 
 ness is to er er yes, to hold your tongue." 
 
 "As you please, monsieur," said the proprietor, who 
 was strictly a man of business, even to smiling and 
 bowing when spit upon. 
 
 "Exactly so," returned the other, in not an over- 
 amiable mood. 
 
 " And for how long shall you be pleased to occupy 
 them ? " 
 
 "For a lifetime yes or a day, if at all," re- 
 turned the other. 
 
 The proprietor was becoming sadly bruised, but
 
 2p CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 mustered a smile to ask, " Shall I send for the bag- 
 gage?" 
 
 " H'm well yes, I think er I think not. If 
 you will allow me, I will er yes, I will go for it 
 myself, or send." 
 
 This was said with a low bow and satanic smile on 
 the part of the guest. 
 
 "As you please, sir." 
 
 " Exactly so." 
 
 "Is there anything else, monsieur?" asked the pro- 
 prietor, with his hand upon the door. He would 
 scarcely have gone back had there been anything. 
 
 " Oh er yes, there is something else," replied 
 the guest, still smiling. ff I want you to er er 
 to get out, yes." 
 
 The proprietor got out, without so much as a bow. 
 They promised to pay well. He could not afford to 
 turn them out, but as he went he commented to him- 
 self, "A queer man that, and a beautiful woman. 
 Very queer ! Very beautiful ! " 
 
 He was no sooner out of the room than the guest 
 locked the door, and turning to an old servant, who 
 had shrunken into one corner, said, "That room there 
 is yours ; get into it ! " 
 
 This party disposed of, he turned to the beautiful 
 woman, who had stood motionless through all, as 
 though utterly careless of all. 
 
 "And now, madame," said he, bowing and smiling, 
 " are you satisfied ? " 
 
 "Satisfied with what, monsieur?" she asked, not a 
 muscle but her lips moving. 
 
 " Oh, satisfied with life ; satisfied to stay where you 
 are if I chance to leave you for an hour, and not to
 
 FREEDOM AND FETTERS. 299 
 
 start off on a wild-goose chase after that man that 
 became an exiled pauper six months ago, and long 
 before this has rotted in the earth? " 
 
 She did not cringe or shudder ; the time was past 
 for such a demonstration. 
 
 "I believe," she said slowly, "that this place is 
 Cairo." 
 
 " It is, madame, and a good way from anywhere." 
 
 " Monsieur von Bremen ! Yes, I am satisfied." 
 
 The vicious smile spread over every feature of the 
 Dane's face. "At last she yields to me," he muttered, 
 and crept toward the woman. 
 
 "And are you satisfied, too, to give up that er 
 that er that other er " He put his hand on 
 her shoulder. 
 
 She did not move. She did not even turn her head. 
 She looked at him. She said, " Take that hand off! " 
 He took it off as though she had stabbed it with a 
 knife. 
 
 He retreated a step or two, then shrugging his 
 shoulders, extending his palms, and hanging his head 
 upon one side, he said softly, "This is your er 
 your last chance, my lady." 
 
 "Monsieur von Bremen ! " she said sharply, " I want 
 to know about Kathi Chichkini ! You know ! I saw you 
 start when I called her name. Where does she live?" 
 
 " In Italy," the Dane replied. 
 
 " How long has she lived there?" 
 
 " Near twelve years." 
 
 " Is she married?" 
 
 "She's been married about eleven years, if I re- 
 member." 
 
 "Has she never in that time been out of Italy?"
 
 300 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 "Not for an hour." 
 
 " How old is her child? " 
 
 " Near about nine, or a little more." 
 
 " How do you know so much about her? " 
 
 "That is none of your business, nor is any of the 
 rest that I have told you." 
 
 "I expected that answer some time before," she 
 said, with almost a smile, and it was as much a mys- 
 tery at that moment to the Dane how he could have 
 answered so many questions coherently. She had 
 sprung upon him quickly. Before he had realized 
 what she was saying, question after question had been 
 propounded, and the answers had slipped, unaccount- 
 ably, from his lips while he was gathering his senses. 
 He saw with regret that she had learned all she wanted 
 to know. He would gladly have denied it all had he 
 dared to, but wisely letting a bad matter rest where it 
 was, he repeated, " This is your last chance." 
 
 " Thank Heaven! " she sighed, then turning quickly 
 toward him, as though already he had been forgotten, 
 she replied, "Then, Monsieur von Bremen, for the 
 last time, Obey!' 1 '' She pointed toward the door. The 
 smile on the man's face became a desperate, dare- 
 devil glare. He began again to approach her. She 
 shrank back from before him, and caught a dagger 
 from her bosom. It flashed above her head. 
 
 "Another step, Albrecht von Bremen, and this is 
 yours. Beware ! " she cried. "It waits for you, mis- 
 erable Dane ! I have used you as an instrument to 
 accomplish a purpose. I have failed. Now I have 
 done with you. I told you plainly in St. Petersburg 
 that I did not go with you to be your wife. Sooner a 
 hundred times I would kill myself, but it is not neces-
 
 FREEDOM AND FETTERS. 3OI 
 
 sary. It will answer every purpose if you are killed. 
 Beware ! I warn you. One of us two shall not see 
 the sun go down, unless you leave me." 
 
 " You er you astound me, madame, you astound 
 me, and I begin to comprehend you now." He walked 
 slowly up and down the room, but did not venture 
 again to approach her. " An instrument, yes, an un- 
 successful instrument. Now what is peculiar about it 
 is, that an instrument is precisely what you have 
 been for me a successful instrument. 1 have 
 accomplished at least one great end, for which I be- 
 came your slave, though my love must go away to 
 feast itself somewhere else. When I flew to your re- 
 lief, and sacrificed everything to care for you, your 
 soft hands were empty. They were extended to me 
 for help ; I helped you. Because I did not do more 
 you drive me away with a knife. Never mind ! Un- 
 thanked, unrewarded, (except as I may reward my- 
 self," he added mentally,) "I go at your command. 
 Only one word of prophecy I venture in leaving : Be- 
 fore ten days have gone you will wish you were Von 
 Bremen's wife, but it will be just ten days too late ; for 
 I am never coming back again. Farewell ! I leave 
 you thoroughly freed from your fetters, thoroughly 
 fettered by freedom." 
 
 The door closed behind him, and Albrecht von 
 Bremen was gone, gone forever, as he had said. 
 What could have induced him to come back again? 
 
 The princess's hand fell to her side, the flashing 
 dagger dropped from her fingers to the floor. The 
 needle point was buried in the wood, and the dagger 
 swung backward and forward on its pliant blade. She 
 tottered feebly forward and fell into a chair.
 
 3O2 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 " What, gone ! " she moaned. "Is he really gone? 
 Gone for ten days, did he say? Who said it?" 
 
 Her eyes wandered aimlessly, staring at one object 
 after another. The fingers traced restlessly the em- 
 broidery on the arms of the chair. "Where is Elise?" 
 she continued. " I must call her, she must make a 
 bundle ready. We must start when it is dark. One 
 hour after sunset we must be on our way to Peters- 
 burg. What ! he has locked up all the money ? my 
 money ! Then sell these rings." 
 
 She extended her fingers and looked at them. Not 
 a ring was there. They had all been sold. A strange, 
 meaningless smile appeared upon her face, and her 
 eyes wandered again. 
 
 "Yes, we must walk. We can do it: Russia is 
 very large. It cannot be very far away. We will 
 walk till we find it. I'll tell him the Dane has not so 
 much as kissed my hand since that evening long ago. 
 Are we going as fast as we can? Are the ten days 
 up? Can he overtake us again? You say he has 
 come home from Poland ? What ! and brought Kathi 
 Chichkini with him? Oh, no, Elise ; that was a great 
 mistake of mine. It was all a great mistake about 
 Kathi Chichkini. She was married and lived in Italy 
 when I married the Prince von Meerschaum. Don't 
 let me forget it, Elise. Are we almost there ? The road 
 
 is very long, and it is almost time time for 
 
 what is it almost time for, Elise? It was a terrible 
 mistake, a terrible mistake; and how could I have 
 made it ? Elise ! Elise ! " 
 
 The old nurse thrust a white head out of the door 
 at this unusual summons. " Did she call ? " she whis-
 
 FREEDOM AND FETTERS. 303 
 
 pered. "Is she alone? It is the first time in six 
 weeks if she is." 
 
 Searching the room, and finding that the lady was 
 alone, she ran and threw herself at her feet. The 
 princess uttered a piercing shriek, and drew her feet 
 up into the chair. 
 
 K I thought you had gone ! " she cried, " gone for 
 ten days and forever, and were never coming back ! " 
 
 "Gracious! gracious!" sobbed the nurse, "don't 
 you know me, lady, I as has carried ye a baby in 
 these arms, and not a day but these two hands have 
 touched you since? Don't you know me, lady? don't 
 you know Elise ? " 
 
 The princess looked at her wonderingly for an in- 
 stant, then moaned : " What was it he said about fet- 
 ters and freedom, and freedom and fetters? It was all 
 a great mistake, 'whatever it was, a very great mis- 
 take, that I made about Kathi Chichkini, a very 
 great mistake ! Oh ! go away, go away from me ! " 
 
 "No, no, my darling, my baby, my mistress, I will 
 not go away ! Oh me, she does not know me ! It's 
 an o'erragged path she's followed to find this madness 
 at the end of it ! " 
 
 While Elise sat wringing her hands and sobbing, 
 and her mistress, paying her very little further heed, 
 sat moaning sentence after sentence as her mind wan- 
 dered, the proprietor entered. 
 
 "Madame, this is most unfortunate," said he. "The 
 monsieur, on leaving for Europe, paid your bill only 
 till to-morrow, and told me then to look out for my- 
 self. Will you keep these rooms, madame? " 
 
 She stared at him vacantly a moment, then shaking 
 her head, replied : " It was all a very great mistake
 
 3O4 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 I made, a very, very sad mistake, and there is 
 some one I want to see about it, and some one I don't 
 want to see, and you are neither of them. You may 
 go away." 
 
 "That is most unfortunate, madame, and I will go 
 away at once. The monsieur intimated that you had 
 neither money nor means, and I am a poor man work- 
 ing hard for my living, that is all, madame." 
 
 "Oh, will you go away ! " she cried, and fainted in 
 her chair. 
 
 Doctors came to see her; but when they learned 
 that the strange man who brought her there had 
 taken off everything, even the trunks containing her 
 private wardrobe, that she had not even a jewel or a 
 piece of silver, they shook their heads, said, "It is a 
 hopeless case of brain-fever ; she cannot recover," 
 and thus left her to the care of Elise. But she did 
 not die ; and to the endless glory of that proprietor 
 of the Hotel du Nil be it sounded abroad, that though 
 a poor proprietor working hard for his living, he fur- 
 nished those two women with a small but comfortable 
 room, served them himself, gave them, when able to 
 leave him, a receipted bill, and paid their expenses 
 to Alexandria upon the coast. 
 
 The princess was very slow to recover her reason. 
 Long after they had left Cairo she was often not at 
 all herself, and if a stranger spoke to her, oftener 
 than otherwise 'she would stare at him for a moment, 
 then say : " It was a very, very sad mistake of mine ! 
 I know it ! And there is one that I want to see about 
 it, and one that I do not want to see, and you are 
 neither one. You may go away." 
 
 With quiet old Elise all alone she was more her
 
 FREEDOM AND FETTERS. 305 
 
 self, and rarely showed any lack of comprehension 
 of what was doing and to be done, after the long 
 period of her doubtful recovery. She realized her 
 situation perfectly. They could not get back to Rus- 
 sia. It would hardly be the thing to do if they could. 
 She had left her husband with Albrecht von Bremen ; 
 she had been robbed and deserted by him. No one 
 could know why or how, or the circumstances of that 
 strange elopement. Her husband had been exiled ; 
 she supposed, possibly the Dane supposed, it was as 
 an illegitimate child. He would be poor ; and in her 
 present state, even had it been possible to find him, 
 she would be a useless, heavy burden that he had 
 better do without. He could not understand, even if 
 he could believe, the motives that had urged her in 
 the past. He could not love her in her pride, much 
 less could she hope to be loved in her fall ; yet she 
 loved him more even in his misfortune than she had 
 loved him in his power. 
 
 Resolutely she said : " Elise, this punishment is less 
 than I deserve. I shall bear it, thankful that my just 
 desert has been withheld. We will go to Jerusalem, 
 if we can get there. There is both a Catholic and a 
 Greek mission there. We will give our services to 
 God in return for his goodness, if either'of the mis- 
 sions will accept of us." And the house she had been 
 bound to honor was more honored by her then than 
 when she became a princess in Castle Foam. 
 
 Elise, with pure animal instinct, seeing the trouble 
 ahead, had gathered everything of any value, even 
 to gold buttons from her lady's underclothes, and 
 secreted them against a time of need. She-sold them 
 at Alexandria ; sold the dagger, too, that had saved 
 
 *2O
 
 306 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 her mistress, and with the money bought a ticket for 
 her mistress by ship to Jaffa, the port-town of Jeru- 
 salem, while she herself, poor soul ! slept on the deck 
 when she slept at all, on the unsoftened boards, but 
 oftener lay looking up at the cold, heartless stars, 
 from her comfortless pillow, a coil of matted rope, 
 praying, oh how earnestly ! that the good God above, 
 if God at all there were in heaven who was not always 
 malevolent, would save her mistress from the dread- 
 ful lot she saw before her, even if to do it He must 
 take her away to His bosom. 
 
 But the ways that we must walk in are not our 
 ways ; the paths that we must follow are past find- 
 ing out. 
 
 Albrecht von Bremen, too, had come to this con- 
 clusion, after setting sail from that same port about 
 six weeks before. He had laughed incessantly all the 
 way from Cairo. "Yes, yes ! " he had cried in ecsta- 
 sy, " I've had enough of disappointment and misery to 
 merit one grand success. There's a hundred thou- 
 sand rubles' worth, and I fancy more, of jewels and 
 gold in those trunks of hers, that I've been looking at 
 and longing for, and lugging from pillar to post till I 
 could throw every one off the track and get her where 
 she could not get home again. That money will lend 
 a noble hand to make me a million from the estates 
 of Meerschaum. I must hurry home and conciliate 
 Charlovitz. Doubtless by this time, after having done 
 the work as I bid him, he has discovered that the 
 bribery was all a fraud and a forgery; but never 
 mind. If the work is done, it is too late for him to 
 undo it. Let him squirm ; who cares?" 
 
 Heinrich Charlovitz had not found out, however,
 
 FREEDOM AND FETTERS. 307 
 
 that it was all a forgery, for he had not so much as 
 opened the papers to read the directions. The smoke 
 of those papers had risen as the first burnt-offering 
 which the priest made after his recovery. 
 
 The clouds hung heavy and dull over the Mediterra- 
 nean sea when the Dane reached it, and the wind 
 wailed round the outposts of the harbor. Seamen 
 shook their heads and pointed windward, where the 
 murky clouds were piled one over another, a red and 
 yellow mist filling the air, the Fata Morgana prepar- 
 ing in that inland sea. 
 
 " What ! " said he, " stay here a fortnight for another 
 boat for the like of such pretty clouds as these ? Those 
 waves are soft as wool ; " and with his stolen trunks he 
 sailed away. 
 
 Lower hung the pretty clouds, until they lost their 
 beauty, and the red and yellow mist became a driving 
 gale as the Fata Morgana broke, and the soft waves, 
 with their white caps of foam looking very much like 
 wool, made the ship creak and tremble. 
 
 But what cared the Dane for that? He who could 
 sleep soundly with an outraged conscience could rest 
 well in a troubled sea. He slept till a little past mid- 
 night ; then he woke. What woke him? a creak- 
 ing, a shiver, a crash ! and every beam of the boat 
 warped and trembled. 
 
 There was hardly a shout from the officer on deck, 
 hardly a cry from a terrified sailor, hardly a shriek 
 from a strangling passenger. She went down like a 
 ship of glass to the lower level of the brigand sea, 
 shattered by a rock buried in one of those wool-soft 
 waves. A sailor was saved by the fishermen on the 
 island. A little girl was washed ashore without even
 
 308 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 a bruise, protected by that especial providence that 
 looks after children ; and among a few corpses that 
 had been given up by the waves, just one, that of a 
 passenger, seemed to give token of life. The fisher- 
 men took that one to the fire they had built had 
 they built it an hour earlier it would have saved the 
 whole and began in their rude way to rub and roll 
 him back to life. By and by they were rewarded, his 
 eyes opened slowly, and fell first upon the great waves 
 climbing the rocky ledge of the island. 
 
 " They are soft, very soft," he muttered. 
 
 Then memory began to dawn, and turning to the 
 fishermen he asked, "Was the old ship saved? " 
 
 But no one understood him ; they were red-skinned 
 fishermen. His eye caught the white face of the 
 sailor telling his beads on the other side of the fire, 
 and thanking Heaven for his deliverance from the very 
 mouth of the grave. He spoke to him in Italian, the 
 foster-tongue of every Mediterranean manner. 
 
 "Was the old ship saved?" 
 
 "No, no," answered the sailor in a gloomy mono- 
 tone, and told his beads again. 
 
 "Was there nothing saved?" asked the Dane. 
 
 " No, no ! " was the solemn reply. Then the sailor 
 went on in reverie : " Everything, alive and dead, but 
 three of us here, have long ago heaved to under the 
 lee of some of those great rocks down there. St. 
 Mary save their souls 1 " 
 
 There was no more need of rubbing life into the 
 drowning man. He sprang to his feet, he shouted, he 
 cursed like a madman. "Then why was /saved?. 
 Tell me that ! " he cried and tore his hair. " I should 
 have been almost a prince in Russia but for this.
 
 FREEDOM AND FETTERS. 309 
 
 Perdu ! Sacrc lieu ! 'Twas surely not a lack of 
 brains that lost me this. 'Twas neither brains nor no 
 brains. 'Twas luck ! my vile accursed luck." 
 
 He listened a moment to the waves that had ruined 
 his chances, and that were rushing and roaring as re- 
 gardless of him and his misery as he had been a hun- 
 dred times of the misery of victims his intrigue had 
 wrecked upon that treacherous rock of friendship trust- 
 ed in that proved untrue. Then a grim smile crept over 
 his face, his head hung upon one side, he shrugged 
 his shoulders, and his eyes half closed themselves. 
 He was thinking of the Princess von Meerschaum. 
 
 At that unfavorable moment a fisherman thrust be- 
 fore him a rude dish with a hastily cooked fish upon 
 it. The Dane struck the dish and fish from the hand 
 of the Moor, and sent them far over the sand. In an- 
 other instant Albrecht von Bremen was lying on his 
 back, bound hand and foot with strong cords, as by 
 magic almost, and groaning for mercy. He thought 
 they were about to kill him, and after all he did not 
 want to die. 
 
 Thus the proprietor of the Hotel du Nil had re- 
 ceived and discharged again one of the last parties 
 of the summer to visit his house. The line of travel 
 holds late, but does not begin early. There is a dead 
 lull through the last of July and the month of Au- 
 gust. No one visits Cairo again till the middle of Sep- 
 tember. The little proprietor had virtually shut up his 
 hotel, but not entirely, for his guest with the wounded 
 arm was still with him. The injury had proved more 
 severe than even the doctors had feared, and had taxed 
 their utmost skill.
 
 3IO CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 "This mends very slowly," he said, as the little man 
 entered his tastefully arrayed parlor. He always 
 came in for an hour and a cigar in the morning. " I 
 never imagined before that one of those rattling ape- 
 tails* could do so much damage." 
 
 The proprietor laughed. He was a jolly little man, 
 and laughed all over. 
 
 "But you are better off than the sheik, my lord," he 
 said. " I fancy he did not think a little pistol-ball would 
 do much harm ; and the worst of it is he will never 
 find out his mistake." 
 
 " Have you heard about it at last ? Did I kill him ? " 
 asked the wounded man, evincing after all but little 
 curiosity. "I fired for his forehead, but I was sure I 
 should miss, I fired so quick." 
 
 The little man laughed again. "And did my lord 
 ever miss? Your ball struck him so fair between the 
 eyes that he never breathed after he touched the 
 ground. A Greek student was telling me of it this 
 very day. If he had seen you when I was your dra- 
 goman years ago, in Syria, when you followed that 
 band of black Bedouins from the Dead Sea to the ford 
 of the Jordan, all alone, with one small pistol in your 
 hand, he would have turned out for you without your 
 asking." 
 
 And the little proprietor laughed again. 
 
 The wounded man shook his head. " I almost 
 cried then," he said, "for every man I hit. I shot 
 them in their legs and arms, to save killing them, 
 though every one was doing his best to take my life. 
 Times have changed, or I have changed. The world 
 
 *The long barreled flint-locked, highly ornamented guns used 
 at that time by the Turks, in which they fired heavy shot.
 
 FREEDOM. AND FETTERS. 311 
 
 has used me so roughly that I have lost all respect for 
 it. I cannot meet to-day with a show of authority 
 over me, but I kick against it. A miserable weakness 
 in a man, I am willing to confess." 
 
 "It's the way of the world, my lord. It hardens, it 
 suffers from what it hardens." 
 
 " I think," said the wounded man, lifting his arm 
 from the table it was his right arm and putting it in 
 the sling, "that if I should get out a little more, in spite 
 of this heat, it would be good for me. If you will 
 have a carriage here sharp at three o'clock, I will 
 drive down to the pyramids." 
 
 The great bell for arrivals rang. The little "pro- 
 prietor leaped from his chair, and tied his cravat and 
 re-curled his moustache. Such an unheard-of thing 
 as an arrival at this season meant news of some sort. 
 It was only an officer come for a day or two. He was 
 passing Alexandria on business, he said, and as it was 
 now or perhaps never, he thought he would brave the 
 heat and see Cairo now. He was given one of the 
 coolest rooms opening upon the lovely court, ate a 
 lunch, and sat in the open door, smoking and waiting 
 the cooler afternoon. It came at last. He was prepar- 
 ing in his mind how he should turn his steps, when 
 the figure of a tall, powerful man, dressed in an 
 Oriental costume, even to a curving sword and a red 
 fez, crossed the court. A strange, unaccountable chill 
 swept over the officer as he looked. The man's back 
 was toward him, and he walked slowly, but the new- 
 comer stood riveted to the spot till he of the wounded 
 arm turned about at the distant corner of the court, 
 crossed obliquely through the summer house, and left 
 the garden. He followed him. He saw him enter
 
 312 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 a superb coach, and the horses start. He hailed an 
 English carriage that was passing. The driver was 
 an Arab, but shook his head. He was evidently 
 engaged to some one else. The officer pressed a gold 
 sovereign into his hand that closed convulsively upon 
 it, and motioned him to follow the coach that had just 
 driven away. Gold conquered, though the task was a 
 hard one, for the horses in the first carriage were fresh, 
 strong animals, selected by a careful proprietor to 
 please the taste of one critical in horseflesh, while 
 those that dragged the second were every-day coach- 
 horses. So it chanced that he of the Oriental robes 
 and wounded arm had reached the pyramids, and 
 sending his horses away to shelter, had walked down 
 to where the huge sphinx of Ghizeh lifts its flattened 
 head out of the sand drifts, and stares with eternally 
 open eyes from Cephron, Cheops, and Mycerinus far 
 away over the trackless desert, before the man in, 
 uniform appeared. 
 
 From a distance the officer had seen him go down 
 there and hurried to the spot ; the sphinx prevented 
 the two men from seeing each other. A moment 
 more and they faced each other. One red with heat 
 and with anger, the other white with suffering, mental 
 and physical. 
 
 " General Wolzonn ! " exclaimed one with a smile. 
 
 "Victor Reppoun," said the other with a frown. 
 
 "Do you come as a foe?" asked Victor Reppoun, 
 in surprise, looking down at his wounded arm. 
 
 "I come as avenger of the blood of my cousip," 
 said Constantine Wolzonn sternly. " What the Tzar, 
 being your friend, would not do, I, being her nearest 
 relative, must do. I command you draw ! "
 
 FREEDOM AND FETTERS. 313 
 
 Only a sharp contraction about the mouth of the 
 exile told how bitterly he felt that thrust. He offered 
 no word of explanation. It was not that he had been 
 charged with murder, not that he was told that the law 
 had dealt too leniently with him. That might have been 
 explained. The general was an old friend, literally 
 a bosom-friend. He of all others had good cause to 
 be charitable, he of all others had many reasons why 
 he should forgive. He least of all in Russia should 
 say, " Let him be punished more." Not only did he 
 forget all this, but in the vigor of strength he stood 
 before a man who had spent nearly two months upon 
 a couch, and whose right hand hung helplessly beside 
 him in a sling, and said to him, w I command you 
 draw ! " 
 
 " Lo blow, thou winter wind, 
 Thou art not so unkind 
 Freeze, freeze, thou winter sky, 
 Thou dost not bite so nigh." 
 
 From the sheer animal instinct of self-preservation, 
 with these cutting thoughts of being forgotten, of 
 being cursed, of being challenged under such circum- 
 stances, his left hand drew his sword and raised 
 it just in time to catch the officer's blade before it 
 touched his head. Then began the unequal duel ; 
 and the lonely, sad-eyed sphinx up above them was 
 seconds, judge, and umpire, all in one. 
 
 The right arm as it hung in the sling twitched ner- 
 vously to feel the weight of the blade, but the thing 
 was impossible. The prince was a dexterous fencer, 
 and the left arm served him in a way that astonished 
 himself, and caused General Wolzonn more than once 
 to fear that his anger would cool before he could gain
 
 314 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 an opportunity to strike a blow. His victim parried, 
 but did not dare to thrust ; possibly he did not want 
 to. In an unguarded moment he stepped backward. 
 His foot sank lower than he expected. Involuntarily 
 the left hand rose to restore his equilibrium. Taking 
 advantage of the miss, Constantine Wolzonn struck 
 the sword from the other's hand, and in the impulse 
 of the instant, the spirit of his murdered cousin 
 appearing in startling reality before him to cry for 
 vengeance, her breast made bare, a dagger-hilt pro- 
 truding, just above his head, he shut his eyes and 
 felled the Prince von Meerschaum, unsworded though 
 he was, much as he had struck Count Kramareff. 
 He did not see the body fall, but without a groan, a 
 heavy, lifeless weight, it struck the ground. With a 
 shudder the general sheathed his sword. Mad curi- 
 osity dragged his eyes once toward the spot as he 
 turned away. White as marble and perfectly sense- 
 less, the prince lay stretched upon the earth. Not a 
 breath or a last sigh moved the light robe that crossed 
 his chest. His right arm had left the sling, and from 
 a deep, ugly gash across his temple and cheek the pur- 
 ple flood of a victory lost flowed over the white sand. 
 
 " She is revenged ! " said Constantine Wolzonn as 
 he walked slowly away. Was he happy? Surely 
 not. He was a soldier ; in some senses a brave sol- 
 dier. He realized keenly that he had done the mean- 
 est, most outrageous thing a man could do, except to 
 stab a sleeping enemy in the back. "Yet," he said, 
 " 'twas nearer equal by far than the struggle in which 
 he drew my cousin's blood." 
 
 It must be remembered in his behalf, that in those 
 days, in Russia, human life was not considered such
 
 FREEDOM AND FETTERS. 315 
 
 a sacred thing as we hold it to-day, if occasion offered 
 to take it ; and the old law of an eye for an eye, 
 which was still strong, demanded it. There was 
 nothing in the moral side of this murder which could 
 conflict in the most delicate degree with the reforma- 
 tion that was still the end and aim of General Wol- 
 zonn's life. He did it as an act of justice. Doubt- 
 less of himself he would have refused to make the 
 attack altogether ; doubtless even he would much 
 rather have avoided it have warned the prince, if 
 that could have been done, to keep out of his way. 
 But how could he be the man he longed to be, how 
 could he be the guardian of her child ; most of all, 
 how could he be goaded night and day by that ter- 
 rible vision, the pale face, the extended hands, the 
 naked breast, the dagger-hilt, the blood, and leave 
 the murder unavenged? It was impossible. "Ven- 
 geance is mine, I will repay," was seldom heard, sel- 
 dom believed. He had even registered in a church 
 the vow that Victor Reppoun should not cross his 
 path but once. This had relieved him in part, and 
 to have fulfilled the vow and drawn the dagger from 
 that breast completed the satisfaction. The sting of 
 the cowardly act alone made the sweet draught very 
 bitter ; but the vision never came but once again, and 
 that was a long time afterward. Evidently the spirit 
 of the murdered woman had been satisfied. Imme- 
 diately on returning to Calcutta, Constantine Wolzonn 
 left for Alexandria. " Too hot," he told the propri- 
 etor, as he paid his little bill, and in Beyroot formed 
 for himself a quiet bachelor home, living a life that 
 exemplified all of his best intentions, showing what a 
 model man he could be if the sea was calm.
 
 3l CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 He heard from his proteg with each mail-ship 
 from Italy, and from the artist, of his growing attach- 
 ment for the boy, and of the ever increasing skill 
 he evinced in the beautiful art that had taken him 
 captive. 
 
 As the months rolled on, the little Victor improved 
 so rapidly in his work that his master allowed him, 
 simply for encouragement, to paint a picture for the 
 yearly examination of amateurs' beginnings ; at which 
 examination the best two were to be selected and 
 hung in the lower corridor of the large gallery. The 
 artist spurred him on to this endeavor with every en- 
 thusiastic encouragement. His wife, a dark-haired, 
 dark-eyed beauty, quite worthy an artist's choice, had 
 seriously objected at first to Victor's coming into the 
 house, and had at last but reluctantly consented, 
 which reluctance did not die out with time, but served 
 at least to make the artist himself more kind, more 
 gentle, more thoughtful to the fatherless, motherless 
 boy, though he had taken pains to give his wife no 
 information whatever regarding the boy's birth, par- 
 entage, or future prospects, lest it might in some 
 way act as prejudice. 
 
 Victor told the artist that he was painting a Madon- 
 na for the exhibition. What Madonna, he refused to 
 say. The artist very much wondered which of the 
 reputed Madonnas he had chosen to copy, and what 
 the result would be, but stubbornly refused to allow 
 anyone to enter the boy's little studio, which adjoined 
 his own, till the completion was announced. Early 
 and late the little enthusiast kept himself upon his 
 work like a master, till his ruddy. cheeks grew alarm- 
 ingly pale. But at last the work was finished. He
 
 FREEDOM AND FETTERS. 31 7 
 
 opened the little door, announced the fact, and fled to 
 his old hiding-place far down the Arno. 
 
 The artist called his wife, and together they entered 
 and drew the cloth away from the canvas as it stood 
 upon the boy's little easel. 
 
 " My God ! my God ! " exclaimed the Italian ; and 
 his hand trembled as he held up the cloth. "My 
 God!" he cried again, "I could not have done it! I 
 could not have done it ! That boy will be the great- 
 est artist Florence ever knew ! " 
 
 But his wife made no answering comment. A dark 
 crimson flush burned on her cheeks. A fierce, low 
 fire flashed from deep in her dark, beautiful eyes, 
 while her trembling lips whispered, "Holy Mother, 
 keep my darling girl ! " For, instead of the rare 
 Madonna face which her husband admired, she saw 
 upon the canvas, in the pencil's living lines, the beau- 
 tiful face of a darling girl, an only child scarce a 
 fwelvemonth over ten years old, every shadow and 
 expression perfect as a photograph, yet with an in- 
 describable something about it, a mist of maturity 
 rendering the face a fitting support for the Madonna 
 halo about it. It was just what the mother had been 
 ten years before, what the darling girl would be 
 in ten years yet to come. 
 
 It was a wonderful victory. Every one joined with 
 the Italian artist in praising the little painter ; and 
 almost unheard of though it was, the child was one 
 of the two successful applicants before the committee, 
 and his Madonna head hung in the lower gallery. It 
 hangs to-day in another gallery, a private collection, 
 and is praised as then. It is doubly praised, for no 
 one sees it now but some one whispers in his ear that
 
 318 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 it was the triumph and victory, both in love and in 
 art, of the child of a falsely banished prince. 
 
 But the mother's heart rebelled before the soft beauty 
 of the picture, and a bitter something memory cher- 
 ished lived and burned afresh in it. Mists dimmed 
 those dark eyes, and the picture faded from before her. 
 Wind seemed rushing through forest-leaves above ; 
 great trunks of trees surrounded her ; water rippled 
 and sparkled at her feet. There were white-bells, 
 and blue-bells, and long-fingered ferns rising above 
 them. Was it the sunlight on the tears in her eyes, 
 or a broad blue lake through the branches and an old 
 mill yonder? Trees, flowers, water faded from before 
 her into two eyes that were looking down at her, and 
 two proud lips that whispered, " I love you ; come 
 with me." And she believed them ; she had dared 
 to answer, "And be your wife?" Then the day- 
 light grew dark, and the rude wind rushed over the 
 water and through the trees and swept them all away, 
 as from the gathering blackness came a hollow echo 
 sounding back to her, "All but my name" 
 
 She had known those eyes again the moment she 
 saw them under the boy's forehead, and, clasping her 
 child in her arms, thrown all the bitterness of that 
 memory into the prayer, " Holy Mother, keep my dar- 
 ling girl ! " It was, after all, a foolish prayer ; but, 
 alas ! like many mothers, she did not see the folly of 
 it. The Holy Mother, in all wisdom, had selected 
 Victor Reppoun to keep that darling girl of hers.
 
 POUR LES PAUVRES. 
 
 319 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 - POUR LES PAUVRES. 
 
 ELISE and her charge were delayed ten days at 
 Alexandria before they started ; hence it chanced 
 that Constantine Wolzonn sailed upon the same ves- 
 sel, but the princess was confined to her room, and 
 Elise had eyes and ears for none but her mistress. 
 
 Several times the officer noted the old woman pass- 
 ing and repassing. There was something familiar in 
 the face, and more than once he was on the point of 
 speaking ; but she was so changed with her changed 
 lot, who could have recognized her? He let the oppor- 
 tunity go by. 
 
 They landed at Jaffa. Elise was the last of the 
 passengers to engage a boatman to row them ashore. 
 She preferred to be last ; there were not so many 
 inquisitive eyes fixed on her. They were alone in 
 a dirty, leaking boat, with four opium-besotted boat- 
 men, half-naked Arabs. A priest in a pilgrim's long 
 cloak, such as is often worn in Syria, stood upon the 
 wharf, leaning against one of the damp, dingy pillars 
 that support the custom-house roof, and apparently 
 reading, while his eyes wandered far over the water. 
 As Elise gave the drunken boatmen a piece of silver 
 they saw another in her hand. It was the very last 
 she had. They were already overpaid; but seeing
 
 32O CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 more, and only two women to defend it, they deter- 
 mined to have it, and because she would not give it 
 up, one of them seized a cloak that hung upon her 
 arm, and the rest gathered round him to divide it. 
 
 This was too much. The old nurse wiped her 
 forehead with a corner of her sleeve, in sheer despair. 
 She had no more tears to shed. She fell upon her 
 knees before her mistress with just one sob, that broke 
 through the ice that was rapidly incasing it. 
 
 "Oh, my mistress, my lady ! " she cried, "it's little 
 more that your old nurse can do for you ! They have 
 taken everything that is worth anything, and I too 
 old and weak to stop them ! Oh, why could you not 
 have died when I first held you in these old arms ! 
 But it's almost over now : a few hours more we shall 
 both be gone. Here's the last we have to buy bread 
 with, and there's no mercy in these parts. We'd best 
 be on our way into the other world, let come what 
 will there." 
 
 The priest pushed his cowl over his head and closed 
 his book. His appearance was quite that of a Capu- 
 chin monk, except that his girdle was not a knotted 
 rope. He bent his head to listen. 
 
 " Elise," said the princess, " I have made a great 
 mistake. I am ready to suffer, and to mend, if mend 
 I can, the damage I have done. It grieves me that 
 you must suffer too. If I could prevent it, I would 
 most willingly. Till I am able, be patient. Do not 
 bid me look for another world till I have something 
 better to say for this." 
 
 A man rose suddenly up within the priest. He 
 strode with the step of one of authority toward where 
 the Arabs circled about the cloak. He laid his hand
 
 POUR LES PAUVRES. 321 
 
 upon it. The man who held it refused to give it up. 
 In another instant he was squirming on the wharf, too 
 nearly senseless to cry to his fellows to revenge. 
 "Swine!" hissed the priest in Arabic; that curse of 
 all curses, except those cursing the mother that bore 
 them, that galls the Arab most. Then he threw a coin 
 on the ground, and while none of them dared pick it 
 up, and not one of the officials offered to interfere, he 
 singled out a French dragoman from among the 
 by-standers, and giving him some money, bade him 
 take the women to an hotel, see them provided for, and 
 return to him. 
 
 It was too warm to travel by day ; but in the after- 
 noon they were placed in a comfortable palanquin 
 between two mules, and borne over the hills to Jeru- 
 salem ; while all night long the solitary priest walked 
 silently behind them over those forty weary miles, 
 across the broad plain of Sharon to Rahmel, where 
 they rested at the old inn, surrounded by the high 
 stone wall, with the gate for the horses, the mules, or 
 the camels, and the needle's eye for the pilgrims, and 
 the white paved court within ; then down through the 
 valley of Ajalon, where the ground was covered at 
 that season with the bright yellow half-moons, blossom- 
 ing between the rocks, from seed sown there, the 
 guide said, in that long afternoon when, for Joshua, 
 the moon stood still in that valley of Ajalon. At 
 Kirjath-Jearim, the people of the dirty village 
 crumbling away with the hill-side, roused by the 
 furious barking of the dogs, thrust their heads out of 
 their low windows, probably just as their predecessors 
 had done when king David, one midnight, struck his 
 harp before the rescued Ark of the Covenant there. 
 21
 
 322 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 For very little ever changes on those old hill-sides of 
 Judea. As they reached the summit of the mountains, 
 the Holy City lay before them, tinted, beautifully 
 tinted, over its flat roofs and domes, and towers and 
 minarets, by the rising sun. But to what unapprecia- 
 tive eyes ! The princess slept. The nurse looked 
 toward Jerusalem as though she looked into the gate 
 of hell, surely with no more of hope in her old eyes. 
 The priest following the palanquin at a little distance, 
 apparently praying or reading earnestly, crossed him- 
 self as the city domes appeared, then seemed almost 
 instantly to forget it. 
 
 He placed the two in the Russian hospice, paying 
 their board, and through the official directed them to 
 remain until they should hear from him. 
 
 A few days later a younger priest called from the 
 Church of the Holy Sepulcher. He proposed that 
 they two should sit inside the door of the church, hold- 
 ing boxes " Pour les Pauvres " for the contribu- 
 tions of visitors, and offering them for their support a 
 quarter of what they collected. This was, to some 
 degree at least, what the princess had hoped for, and 
 she very gladly accepted it, though it was some time 
 before she said more to the priest than that she had 
 made a great mistake, that he was not the one she 
 wished to see, and that he might go away. He was 
 a quiet, intelligent man, and surmising something of 
 what the circumstances must be, patiently waited, 
 explored, led her on, and at last won her into under- 
 standing him and consenting to this labor for the 
 church. 
 
 Thereafter, each morning as it came brought a mes- 
 senger from the church to conduct them thither, and
 
 POUR LES PAUVRES. 323 
 
 in the afternoon he took them back again. Two 
 women dressed in black, their faces covered always 
 with black veils, holding small white boxes with black 
 lettering, sitting just inside the door in the winter, and 
 in the shadow of the arch outside through the summer, 
 will surely be remembered by any who visited Jeru- 
 salem in 1834. 
 
 The boxes proved lucrative. The priests voted the 
 strangers a complete success ; while the share which 
 each night came to the two, Elise scrupulously laid 
 by, saying, " Some day we shall take that and go back 
 to Russia." Now and then Elise spoke to the official 
 of the hospice about their board, but it was always 
 paid in advance of her questions, by some of the 
 friendly priests, probably the one who had brought 
 them up from Jaffa, thought the nurse. 
 
 At last a time came when there was enough gold 
 and to spare to carry them to St. Petersburg, and Elise 
 asked, " M'lady, when shall we start?" 
 
 " Start for where ? " asked the mistress. 
 
 " For home, m'lady, St. Petersburg. We have money 
 enough laid up." 
 
 " Can that be possible? " 
 
 "Yes, m'lady; over a thousand rubles. I have 
 kept good count. Shall we start to-morrow? " 
 
 " And how much will it take to reach St. Peters- 
 burg?" 
 
 " Not more than three hundred rubles, at the most, 
 for each, m'lady." 
 
 "Count out three hundred rubles, Elise." 
 
 "Three! m'lady?" 
 
 "Three." 
 
 " For one ! m'lady ? "
 
 324 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 "For one, Elise." 
 
 "Which one, m'lady?" 
 
 Elise was not born to question. She rarely did. 
 Such a strange command, it must be allowed, might 
 tempt a stronger mind to question. "Which one?" 
 But as she received no answer, she quietly executed the 
 command, wondering all of the time "which one? " 
 
 She handed the sum to the princess, gathered up in 
 a handkerchief. The official of the hospice had given 
 them gold for their silver. The princess took it, looked 
 into the handkerchief much as she looked at a stran- 
 ger, shook her head, and almost said, "I have made 
 a great mistake." Then she looked at Elise. 
 
 "Is this quite enough, are you sure?" 
 
 "Yes, m'lady. The officer below told me two hun- 
 dred and fifty." 
 
 The princess held out the handkerchief. " Take it, 
 Elise," she said. " I promised long ago that when I 
 was able you should bear this no longer. I did not 
 dream we had so much and could travel for so little." 
 
 Elise looked up, and asked another question before 
 she took the handkerchief. " What shall you do with 
 the rest, m'lady." 
 
 " I shall send it, Elise, to the priest who brought us 
 up from Jaffa, to use as he may see fit for those who 
 are poor and have need of it. I did not ask the Lord 
 for wealth. I asked him for work to do, and for 
 mercy. If he has both of these for me, I can cheer- 
 fully return him that money which he has lent me to 
 see what use I shall make of it, and wait his time to 
 leave Jerusalem." 
 
 Elise took the handkerchief by the four corners. 
 She held it at arm's length and let three corners drop.
 
 POUR LES -PAUVRES. 325 
 
 The gold fell in a heap at her mistress's feet ; only a 
 few of the coins rolled away. 
 
 " If the Lord wills that I should leave you, let him 
 pick that up again and put it in this handkerchief," 
 said Elise slowly. 
 
 She waited a moment. Not a piece of the gold was 
 moved. Elise was apparently satisfied, and with her 
 lips pressed painfully together, she gathered up the 
 gold, put it into the box in which they kept the whole, 
 and asked, "Shall I send for the priest and give him 
 this?" 
 
 " No, Elise ; he might refuse it. Find out his name, 
 get a Russian note from the officer below for the 
 amount, and send the note to him so that he shall not 
 know from whom it comes. There is no need that we 
 make much of doing such a thing." 
 
 But the blow was too much for Elise. She had lived 
 on the hope of seeing her old home again, and though 
 she bore it without a murmur, when the hope was ex- 
 tinguished the last spark of vitality seemed to vanish 
 from her old and shattered nerves. 
 
 The winter had brought them well toward Christ- 
 mas time. The church was daily rilled to overflow- 
 ing with visitors and pilgrims. The two women in 
 black had never before reaped such a harvest. Some- 
 times at night their boxes were almost full. They 
 made the sum equal to fifteen hundred rubles by the 
 time that Elise had discovered the priest, who was only 
 a pilgrim after all, serving a penance as altar-keeper 
 and the like, and had sent the note. And though 
 Elise obeyed her mistress as nearly as she could, the 
 pilgrim had said to the messenger, "This comes from 
 the two women in black at the door?" and the mes-
 
 326 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 senger had said, "I am forbidden to tell ; " but that was 
 quite sufficient. 
 
 Then came a change. The spark that began to 
 tremble in Elise when her mistress's determination was 
 made known, suddenly went out. The old nurse died 
 in her bed one night without a warning pain. The 
 princess found her in the morning, and a flood of 
 tears fell over the cold face, from eyes that Elise had 
 said to herself had forgotten how to cry, and for two 
 days no one sat at the door to beg. 
 
 Remarkable providences wait sometimes for those 
 who are helpless. The princess could have done noth- 
 ing at all alone. Even when strong and well, she had 
 never known an opportunity to lift a finger for her 
 own welfare. She knew no more than a child how 
 to arrange her dress and hair. Some one, however, 
 had been prepared for her. 
 
 Less than a week before the old nurse died a strange 
 lady had come to the hospice, one evidently neither 
 rich nor poor, accompanied by a young man of 
 twenty, or a little more. She had become much inter- 
 ested in the women in black ; had asked many ques- 
 tions about them ; had seemed to follow them as they 
 went and came ; had even spoken once or twice to 
 the old nurse. But Elise was crabbed and short in 
 her answers, when she thought people inquisitive. 
 
 The news of the death did not spread very gen- 
 erally over the hospice, yet the strange lady was 
 beside the princess before any one 'had given a help- 
 ing hand. 
 
 Strange how captivating intelligent heart-sympathy 
 may be ! And yet it is not strange. 
 
 The lady had first knelt beside the princess at Elise's
 
 POUR LES PAUVRES. 327 
 
 bed. She had not spoken much, but ere long had even 
 wound her arm about the princess's waist, kissed her 
 pale cheek, and led her to a chair, where, after smooth- 
 ing the bed upon which the body of Elise lay, and 
 covering the face with the sheet, she began to arrange 
 her hair, even more gently than Elise had done it, 
 that thick, soft, snow-white hair, that had once been 
 so much like the sunlight. She must have been a 
 close observer, for she asked no questions ; she talked 
 of matters as far from anything present as could be 
 imagined ; yet the hair was arranged precisely as 
 Elise had always done it, and her clothes were put on 
 as she was used to having them, with a readiness and 
 gentleness that made the stranger seem even less of a 
 stranger than Elise had been for the last two months. 
 The princess even asked her to remain with her that 
 night. 
 
 " I should like to remain with you always. I should 
 like to take Elise's place if you should please," she 
 said. 
 
 "What ! and live the hard life that we have lived? 
 We have no reward for it but our board and the love 
 of God." 
 
 "I have done many harder things," said the stranger. 
 
 There was something in the tone or the way she 
 said that simple sentence that touched a chord of sym- 
 pathy, a spring of love. It was a strange sensation. 
 She replied, " If you could be happy so, I should love 
 to have you stay." 
 
 Altogether, the tears she had shed for Elise, and the 
 new thoughts and feelings inspired by the stranger, 
 proved very beneficial. The princess was more like 
 her old self again ; she even smiled. The stranger
 
 328 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 asked her, " Are you quite satisfied with what you are 
 doing here?" 
 
 "It is for God," she said; "I have no choice." 
 " But there is much work for God in other places. 
 There are lands where Christians are not all pilgrims, 
 you know, and there are tired hands and weary hearts 
 in those lands that need cheering. We can hardly 
 realize, until we see it, how much there is for any 
 one to do who will give a life to God in a Christian 
 land. You have a kind heart, madame, and a very 
 gentle face. There are thousands of fainting ones in 
 the city where I have lived, that would bless God to 
 see you coming to their door to comfort them." 
 
 Thus the lady talked throughout the evening. It was 
 entirely a new revelation to the princess, a new life 
 opened to her. It was a sunny side of duty, brought 
 to light by this very sunshine that had taken Elise's 
 place. Before the evening was spent she said, "I 
 have made a very great mistake in life, and the more 
 I can do to atone for it the better. I will go with you 
 to your city, and work for the Master's poor ones 
 there. But it would be ungrateful to these good 
 priests to go when my little box is doing its best for 
 them. Let me stay two weeks, just through the New 
 Year's festival, then I will go." And the stranger re- 
 plied, "Then let me take Elise's place with you, and 
 hold her box until we go." And so it was arranged ; 
 and two women in black again held the boxes at the 
 door, though the worn-out mortality of the faithful, 
 loving, true-hearted Elise had been borne away by the 
 priests, and buried outside the walls.
 
 THE CLOUDS LIFT AS THE DAY DIES. 329 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE CLOUDS LIFT AS THE DAY DIES. 
 
 IS it too wide a retreat to glance back again to where 
 Albrecht von Bremen lay bound and pleading for 
 his life at the hands of the fishermen on the rocky is- 
 land off the Syrian coast? 
 
 He was partially successful ; they neither ate nor 
 killed him, but they kept him well bound. The sailor 
 and the little girl they put upon the first of their boats 
 that was going to the main-land with its cargo of little 
 fish for canning in oil. He had surmised that this 
 would be the case, and had managed to write a letter 
 to send by them to any authority that might have 
 power to relieve him. It is useless to follow this 
 letter from hand to hand, authority and authority, till 
 by the simplest accident, a hair's breadth and less in 
 itself, it came to the knowledge of the Russian military 
 consul, Wolzonn. 
 
 "Von Bremen ! " he said, "Von Bremen ! that man 
 must be saved. I must see him, be it how it may." 
 
 General Wolzonn obtained a Turkish requisition 
 and military escort, and started in a small vessel for 
 the island. 
 
 Von Bremen had long before given up all hope of 
 rescue, and devoted himself to cursing his luck, and
 
 33 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 wishing they would kill him quickly if kill it must be, 
 for he looked upon the fishermen and treated them as 
 savages and cannibals, when his feet were unbound, 
 and he was carried, being unable to walk, before the 
 officer who had come for him. 
 
 He had not looked up as he approached, his eyes 
 being shut, as he cringed and shivered under, the pain 
 inflicted by the motion of the fishermen. 
 
 They set him down. He looked into General Wol- 
 zonn's face, then caught the shoulder of one of the 
 fishermen to support himself. His nerves were not so 
 strong as they had been. 
 
 "H'm, I had better have been left alone," he mut- 
 tered. 
 
 "You are mistaken," said the officer. "Should I 
 deal with you as justice would dictate, you had better 
 far be left to any fate. You have injured me almost 
 beyond conception. I will be more lenient, I will be 
 more honest. I have gathered from different sources 
 certain facts ; I want you to bind them together for 
 me. Do this, and I take you away from this island. 
 Remember, I promise nothing more. I will take you 
 away from here, if you will answer my questions in a 
 way that the facts I have already gathered shall 
 assure me you speak the truth." 
 
 "I will tell anything," said Albrecht von Bremen. 
 
 "Then begin at the very beginning, and tell me all 
 you know of Kathi Chichkini." 
 
 The Dane cringed, but his life was hanging by a 
 thread. He sat down on the sand, and told Con- 
 stantine Wolzonn all he knew of Kathi Chichkini. 
 Therefor he was carried back, as promised, and set 
 down in Beyroot.
 
 THE CLOUDS LIFT AS THE DAY DIES. 331 
 
 General Wolzonn was disappointed. He had long 
 harbored an idea of seeking out the girl, notwith- 
 standing the argument of the count to the end that he 
 had not stolen her. The Dane had been for six 
 months a prisoner when he found him, and though 
 he had really less information to form his judgment 
 of the man's veracity upon than he would have dared 
 admit, he yet believed that for once the man had 
 told the truth. Possibly it was because he told some- 
 thing so very different from what he had expected. 
 At all events, while he was astonished, more than 
 that even, he was also disappointed, and let the mat- 
 ter drop. He felt guilty in doing so ; yet, after all, 
 it was at best a choice between evils. He would 
 have felt guilty to have interfered with matters as 
 they were. It was an unfortunate break upon the 
 serenity of his life, and reflection upon it brought 
 back many times the sinking heavy-heartedness that 
 had for many years been his constant companion. 
 Perhaps it was not amiss after all that he should some- 
 times be reminded that he was still mortal, and not 
 altogether perfect. 
 
 New Year's Day came ; the first day of 1835. Gen- 
 eral Wolzonn was upon his semi-annual visit to Jerusa- 
 lem. He sauntered carelessly up and down a short 
 section of the Via Dolorosa, in front of the Turkish 
 government-office, waiting the movements of one of 
 those slow officials who will stop and roll a cigarette 
 and smoke it out, if they think you are in haste, 
 before they answer you ; and if your business seems 
 to impress you as a matter of great importance, re- 
 quiring an immediate action, they will then tell you 
 to call the next day at an appointed hour, when they
 
 33 2 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 will have more time to attend to you. If you know 
 the Turk, and really wish to see the officer, you will 
 not go at the hour he appoints. 
 
 Strangely apropos- with coming events, what Cole- 
 ridge calls the spirit of great events striding before 
 the events, was a scrap from Schiller, which the offi- 
 cer, innocently enough, quoted while he waited, 
 thinking only of the time he was wasting, which was 
 not of much importance after all : 
 
 " . . . . Oh, Time 
 
 Works miracles. In one hour many thousands 
 Of grains of sand run out; and quick as they, 
 Thought follows thought within the human breast. 
 Only one hour! Your heart may change its purpose. 
 His heart may change its purpose. Some event decisive 
 May fall from heaven to rescue him. Oh, what 
 May not one hour bring forth ! " 
 
 Then, as he sauntered, his thoughts ran back to 
 the bones he had left to bleach between the hot sun 
 and the white sand, under the shadow of Ghizeh, the 
 temple of Anaraches. He was absently gazing down 
 the long, narrow street, when suddenly his aimless 
 attitude and expression changed to one of intense 
 activity. 
 
 Many narrow lanes terminate in the Via Dolorosa, 
 and from one of these he saw the figure of a man 
 enter between the high walls that border the way of 
 Christ's cross-bearing, and in an instant become lost 
 in the crowd that was moving away from him. 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed the military consul so sharply 
 that the Arab servant beside him fell upon his knees. 
 But he knelt unheeded. 
 
 " By the immortal gods ! if that was not a ghost it
 
 THE CLOUDS LIFT AS THE DAY DIES. 333 
 
 was the Prince von Meerschaum ! " ejaculated the ex- 
 cited officer. 
 
 He forgot the Turkish official, forgot the trembling 
 slave, forgot everything but to lay his hand upon his 
 sword, and run toward where the man had dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 Reaching the spot where the way between the high 
 walls curves southward, toward the strongly block- 
 aded Golden Gate, he stepped upon a block beside a 
 door, and saw, not twenty feet ahead of him, that 
 same figure of a man. 
 
 "Can the grave give up its dead?" he asked, and 
 trembled. For he had sown the wind down by the 
 pyramids. Had it risen up a whirlwind, and must 
 he reap it? 
 
 He stood on that stone step poised between two of 
 the strongest animal impulses of his life, namely : 
 To fly? To follow? He followed. 
 
 Not far beyond them was the spot traditional of 
 course, spurious perhaps, but just as dearly loved by 
 many as though no scholar doubted its authenticity 
 where the cross at last rested, and where, after the 
 veil of the temple was rent in twain, a sepulcher was 
 opened for Him who entered it to conquer death. 
 Across the square, before this spot, the figure in Ori- 
 ental dress walked leisurely, and entered the gloomy, 
 low portal in the great Church of the Holy Sepul- 
 cher, built so low to prevent fanatic Turks from 
 desecrating the holy spot by riding in on horse- 
 back. 
 
 General Wolzonn paused outside the door, beside 
 the two posts in whose shadow two women in black 
 sat to beg in the summer time.
 
 334 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 " I will not stain the holy place with blood," said 
 he, " but when he comes out I must kill him and not 
 fail, for my own life as well as for her death." 
 
 There was, after all, more of the old man left in 
 Constantine Wolzonn, hard as he had labored to 
 expel it. 
 
 As he in Oriental robes passed the two women in 
 black he stopped to drop a coin into one of the boxes. 
 He stopped longer. He stood looking at the hand 
 that held the box, till sheer politeness to a woman 
 turned his head away, and he crossed the main 
 circle of the church. Under the dome he stood irres- 
 olute. 
 
 "What hand was that? " he said, passing his palm 
 over his forehead, as if to wipe some obscuring veil 
 away. "It has taken hold of me. I can see it, feel it 
 beckoning me, while some stronger incentive impels 
 me not to look again. A dread foreboding threat- 
 ens me. Could that be Kathi Chichkini's hand? No, 
 no ! The thing is absurdly impossible. Hers was 
 short, and fat and brown ; this was narrow, thin, and 
 white. But whose was it? I have surely seen it 
 somewhere, and it has made a deep impression on 
 me." 
 
 A priest pulled his robe. " Have you seen the 
 sepulcher? " 
 
 "Yes, I have seen it many times, but I will go 
 again. Light up your taper. Where have I seen 
 it ? " he asked himself absently. 
 
 " Why, right behind you, sir," the priest replied.
 
 THE CLOUDS LIFT AS THE DAY DIES. 335 
 
 "Yes, yes. I was not speaking of the sepulcher, 
 father. Is your taper ready? " 
 
 " Ready and wasting." 
 
 " Then lead on." And to himself, "It is the strangest 
 thing that ever crossed my life." 
 
 " It is indeed a strange strange . " 
 
 "I was not thinking of the sepulcher, good father." 
 
 The priest entered the low doorway. His follower 
 had stooped to enter, when he stopped and turned 
 half about, then shook his head and muttered, " No, 
 no, I dare not look." 
 
 The priest had thrust his head out of the door and 
 caught the words. 
 
 " You have nothing to fear, sir. You may look 
 till " 
 
 "I will look, good father. I was not thinking of 
 the sepulcher." He entered. 
 
 He had not dared look back. Why not? Had he 
 looked back he would not have entered the sepulcher. 
 
 While he stood looking at that hand the princess 
 had not moved. The moment he turned away she 
 raised her veil, the first time she had ever raised it 
 outside of the hospice, and turning to her compan- 
 ion who had taken Elise's place, she said, "Could he 
 have recognized me?" 
 
 It was a simple question, but she asked a second 
 time before the companion replied, " Could who, my 
 lady?" 
 
 " Why he, the Prince von Meerschaum." 
 
 " Do you know him ? " asked the other.
 
 336 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 A sudden realization of her situation swept before 
 her mind, and with it the painful conviction that she 
 did not know what she was at that moment, if any- 
 thing at all, to this Prince von Meerschaum. It was 
 like a tidal wave of suffering. It ingulfed her. A 
 moment before she would have said, w He is my hus- 
 band ! I will fly to him ! " When the wave had 
 passed over her she drew the veil back again, and 
 only answered, without a quiver in her soft, melodi- 
 ous voice, " I did know him, yes ; but it was years 
 ago. I do not wonder he has forgotten me." 
 
 The blood of KramarefF still had valor to do and 
 dare. The reply was a'resolute determination to let 
 the opportunity go by. Her companion did not break 
 the silence that followed with even a breath. She 
 was wise. When the soul struggles with itself, it is 
 too busy to turn its thoughts out of the windows. 
 Her head fell heavily upon her hand ; that thin, slen- 
 der, and white hand. It was displayed to its perfec- 
 tion as it rested outside the black veil, to support her 
 head. 
 
 Long and silently the hand rested there a po- 
 sition like a beacon-light, the most prominent thing 
 in all the church, as the prince came out of the 
 sepulcher. Involuntarily his eyes fell upon it. They 
 became instantly fastened there as by some strange 
 spell. Yet it was only what he had seen before a 
 hand! 
 
 The Greek service began beyond the sepulcher. 
 With an effort of a strong will the prince turned 
 away, having come to no other conclusion than that 
 he had seen that hand before ; and in a moment more
 
 THE CLOUDS LIFT AS THE DAY DIES. 337 
 
 was absorbed in the familiar form he had so often 
 listened to at Schaumburg. 
 
 The princess, forgetting altogether her surround- 
 ings, forgetting even the 'pain the resolution not to 
 be recognized had cost her, had been upon a long 
 journey. She had been with her cousin Major Wol- 
 zonn up to an old witch's den, in Switzerland. She 
 had been looking at pictures in the white smoke, 
 reading her life history. 
 
 " But the last she lost," she said to herself. " Ah I 
 what shall that last picture be ? " 
 
 Leaning against the stone post, it may be sup- 
 posed that General Wolzonn became uneasy. Worse 
 than that, he felt his courage oozing out of his finger- 
 tips, and he had very little confidence in himself 
 when the coward was uppermost. 
 
 " Will the villain keep me here till dark? " he mut- 
 tered ; and a little later, resting his hand upon his 
 sword, entered the church, adding, " He shall die 
 where he is, or I will die there." 
 
 The church was literally crowded with pilgrims 
 and visitors. From Christmas to New Year's Day 
 is a festival only exceeded in popularity by the Easter 
 pilgrimage to witness the Holy Fire ; but in spite of 
 the vast throng, which was most closely packed about 
 the Greek chapel, witnessing the magnificent New 
 Year's service, almost the first person to meet the 
 officer's eyes was the Prince Reppoun ; and directly 
 over his head, so real that Constantine Wolzonn could 
 not for one moment doubt that it was indeed the actual 
 
 22
 
 338 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 spirit drawing him on to do his duty and seal his 
 vow, hovered that pale face, that flowing, sunlight 
 hair, those pleading eyes and outstretched hands, that 
 naked breast and dagger-hilt. 
 
 "Ah, why hast thou not told me," he muttered, 
 "that my duty was not done?" and never took his 
 eyes from it till he stood close behind the prince, 
 whose back was toward him. His arms were crossed, 
 his head bowed forward. He did not move till close 
 behind him he heard a voice pronounce his name : 
 
 " Victor Reppoun ! " 
 
 Turning suddenly, he beheld the man whose face 
 he remembered with such a bitter pain as it had been 
 translated to him in Egypt, standing again with drawn 
 sword, yes, even with his sword raised to strike, 
 before he had given a warning word. 
 
 It is the faculty that wins life's victories for some 
 men that they can act instantly and act well. Other 
 men, with far more brilliant opportunities, virtually 
 throw them all away by blundering in emergencies. 
 
 In truth, the officer did not dare to give his enemy 
 warning, or more at Itast than would grant him 
 a moment's realization that it was the hand of the 
 avenger, before he struck. The blade was falling ; 
 a narrow glimmer of yellow light flashed along its 
 polished surface from the candles on the altar. The 
 crowd involuntarily pressed back as the officer ap- 
 proached. They stood in a little circle, quite alone. 
 The prince could fall to the ground without touching 
 one of the by-standers. But the prince was not ready 
 to fall. He had turned his head, and in an instant 
 comprehended all. Before he had time to move his 
 body, he had grasped for that uplifted hand to hold
 
 THE CLOUDS LIFT AS THE DAY DIES. 339 
 
 the blade ; but he missed it. The sword did not fall 
 so low as to meet his grasp. The hand of a Greek 
 priest had clutched that of the officer and held it still 
 higher. The prince turned toward the priest with a 
 smile, and said : 
 
 " Good father, you have saved my life. I will thank 
 you later." 
 
 He stepped back and drew his sword. The priest 
 let the officer's hand drop, and .shrank back into the 
 crowd without a word. 
 
 "You are late, general," said the prince calmly, as 
 they crossed swords. "I have my right hand now. 
 This is a church ; can you not wait, and let me go 
 outside with you?" He held the officer's sword above 
 his own while he spoke. 
 
 "A life for a life, here and now!" said the officer 
 fiercely ; and endeavoring to take advantage of the 
 other's position, he made a sudden thrust. 
 
 "Not yet!" said the prince, parrying. "The blood 
 is not upon my hands, but to-day I shall revenge my- 
 self on you, for these two times that you have played 
 the coward with me ! " 
 
 He placed himself in position for the duel. The 
 officer made another sudden thrust, and a bright 
 spark flew toward the altar as their swords met. 
 
 The commotion and the voices caused the princess, 
 sitting by the door, to lift her head. .She grasped the 
 hand of her companion, exclaiming, "It is he! it is 
 he ! and in danger ! O God, save him !" And rising, 
 she rushed toward the spot, about which a dense crowd 
 was already gathering. 
 
 "General, be careful ; when I say three, look out!" 
 said the prince, eying him as a wild beast ready to
 
 34 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 spring upon a prey that has maddened him. Then 
 slowly and distinctly he began to count: "One two 
 
 THREE ! " 
 
 With a sudden motion he twisted the officer's sword 
 from his hand ; it shot through the crowd and fell be- 
 fore the altar; then, grasping his own blade in his 
 left hand, he struck the officer full in the chest with 
 his right. He reeled and fell backward. The prince 
 smiled. 
 
 "Unsworded and fallen," he exclaimed, "and with- 
 out a scratch. Now, friend Wolzonn, get up and be- 
 have yourself." 
 
 He took the hand of the officer, who was almost 
 unconscious with fright, and lifted him to his feet. 
 
 " One has fallen ! " swept from mouth to mouth 
 through the crowd. The princess heard but could 
 not see which one. With a shriek she struggled to 
 separate the crowd. The great church became a 
 stifling cloud and whirled about her. She raised her 
 hands and fell backward, striking her head heavily 
 upon the iron railing about the Stone of Unction. 
 
 "What voice was that?" exclaimed the prince. 
 His head was high above the crowd, he could see 
 
 everything. He saw a white hand raised in 
 
 the air, a face like marble behind it, as the princess 
 fell backward. 
 
 " My wife ! " he exclaimed, and with a strong arm 
 hurling the crowd right and left, he reached the spot 
 and lifted her gently upon one shoulder. 
 
 The ignorant rabble took his haste as flight from 
 justice, and the cry of " Stop him ! Stop him ! " rose 
 from every lip as the crowd became infuriated and 
 pressed about him.
 
 THE CLOUDS LIFT AS THE DAY DIES. 34! 
 
 Holding his wife firmly with his left arm, he raised 
 his right hand above his head and his clear voice rang 
 loud above the shouting of the multitude : " Make way 
 for me, or I shall make my way through you ! " 
 
 Then the crowd fell back, and he left the church 
 without so much as brushing one of them with the hem 
 of his garment. But no sooner had he passed than 
 like the air severed by a flash of lightning, the two 
 parts came together with a crash, and every one struck 
 his neighbor, and every one was struck by his neigh- 
 bor, in one of those mad riots where no one knows 
 why he is striking or why he is struck, that are un- 
 fortunately frequent even to-day in the Church of the 
 Holy Sepulcher. 
 
 As he passed through the low doorway, he noticed 
 the woman who had been the companion of the prin- 
 cess, and who till then had remained beside them, 
 turn to go another way. 
 
 " Madame," said he, " you have been doing me an 
 unspeakable kindness. Will you not remain by this 
 lady a little longer, I fear she is dangerously wounded 
 and will be much in need of help." 
 
 The woman in black made no reply, but turned to 
 follow. 
 
 General Wolzonn had hurried across the square. 
 He touched the prince's arm and knelt beside him. 
 
 " My lord, I cannot understand this at all," said he ; 
 " but whatever it may be, my rooms are the best in 
 Jerusalem. Take them. For mercy's sake, let me do 
 something ; you are more than welcome." 
 
 " Friend Wolzonn, you are yourself again ; lead on, 
 and I will follow," said the prince.
 
 342 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE FULL SUN AT EVENTIDE. 
 
 " Softly as Apollo's ray 
 
 O'er Neptune's kingdom fades away, 
 
 Lingering on Oread's heights 
 Faint and fading Tyrian lights, 
 
 Should life's hour of twilight be 
 
 Welcoming to Mercury; 
 The King's high messenger who waits to bear 
 
 The ransomed spirit through the air 
 To Charon, who by dark Berisium 
 
 Shall ferry to the blessed Elysium." 
 
 IN an hour the princess had recovered conscious- 
 ness. She was in a luxurious apartment, with her 
 companion and the doctor, trying to recall a happy 
 vision upon which she had closed her eyes. 
 
 The doctor knelt beside her. His face wore that 
 anxious look of foreboding which one watches at 
 such a time, as the South Sea mariner looks hard after 
 the departing albatross. It bodes no good to the 
 troubled watcher. It is the signal-flag of danger to 
 life's wearied mariners who would guide a precious 
 bark that in spite of them is dropping, dropping down 
 into the gulf of death. 
 
 He whispered, "Do you suffer any pain, my, lady ? " 
 "No, monsieur," she replied. "I feel quite well, 
 but very weak."
 
 THE FULL SUN AT EVENTIDE. 343 
 
 He rose softly. The companion of the princess 
 looked at him with eager inquiry. There was no light 
 in his eye as he left the room. 
 
 The Prince von Meerschaum met him just outside 
 the door, where he had been anxiously waiting. 
 
 " She is not dead ! " he gasped, looking into the 
 doctor's face. 
 
 " No, my lord," he replied. 
 
 " Doctor," said the prince ; but he silenced him with 
 a gesture of his hand. 
 
 " Life is too sacred to require a bribe for a struggle 
 to save it," said he. " Her system was too weak to sus- 
 tain the shock, it has yielded already, she is perfectly 
 conscious, and may live for an hour ; but do not waste 
 your time in vain offers, for the wealth of the world 
 cannot keep her more than that." 
 
 With a trembling hand Victor Reppoun turned the 
 latch. His heart stood almost still. His tongue was 
 heavy with a prayer for mercy. No thought occurred 
 to him that he had aught to forgive as well. 
 
 In the interim the princess, who had read the truth 
 as plainly as though it had been spoken, and who 
 had recalled what had passed in the church, turned 
 calmly to her companion, and said, "I am going to 
 die. The Master is satisfied. Can the Prince Rep- 
 poun be found? I should like to speak with him." 
 
 As she asked the question he opened the door. 
 
 There, upon Eastern cushions, lay one whose face, 
 still beautiful, the dark eyes darker for the snow- 
 white hair, he was only in dreams to see afterward; 
 one who, but for himself, would have been the con- 
 summate felicity and pride of his life. And some- 
 thing told him in that moment that she loved him
 
 344 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 still ; through all, in spite of all ! He approached 
 the couch. The soft eyes fell on him. She 
 smiled. 
 
 "I made a very great mistake," she said. " I sinned 
 terribly; but God has forgiven me. Can you?"' 
 
 Could he forgive? 
 
 Could she forgive? 
 
 Her last words, lying locked in her husband's arms 
 in a first and last embrace, were these : 
 
 "Then, let the blighted past fall from its withered 
 limb. Ten times over I would have borne it all for 
 this. Oh, I would linger so ! This dying is too 
 sweet to have it over with." 
 
 She smiled again, a smile that lingered on her lips 
 longer than the breath of life. How many tears that 
 smile would have saved had it come earlier ! How 
 many tears it saved coming when it did. There was 
 a celestial beauty about it. It was the first shadow of 
 the angel's smile that ever afterward guarded and 
 cheered the life she loved ; and doubtless its continu- 
 ance was first to meet him when his sowing and reap- 
 ing times were also over, and the almost was forever 
 in the blessed "by-and-by." 
 
 The sheet had covered the beautiful face for an 
 hour. The prince stood by an open window, alone 
 in the room, when a heavy tramp of feet upon the 
 stairs, and boisterous rapping upon the door of another 
 room of the consul's apartment, caused him to open a 
 door that would admit him to the room thus assailed. 
 Then, doubtful if it were anything which he should 
 know, he drew the door partly together again, but 
 stood there still ; for, without waiting for an answer, 
 he saw a Turkish officer enter the room, and the gen-
 
 THE FULL SUN AT EVENTIDE. 345 
 
 eral spring from his chair and ask fiercely, " Why 
 this intrusion ? " 
 
 " I come with orders to arrest the man in Turkish 
 dress who caused a riot to-day in the Church of the 
 Holy Sepulcher, and has taken refuge here." 
 
 " He caused no riot," said the general sternly, point- 
 ing to the door. 
 
 " I am not come to argue," the Turk replied, sul- 
 lenly. 
 
 " Then go ! " exclaimed the general ; " for ere you 
 touch that man, the point must be well argued." 
 
 The Turk struck the floor with his heel, and sev- 
 eral soldiers with drawn swords entered behind him. 
 General Wolzonn grasped the sword which the prince 
 had removed and laid upon the table. 
 
 "Your words are useless," said the Turk. "The 
 house is well guarded. I come peaceably, but if re- 
 sistance be offered, every member of this house goes 
 with me to answer for defying the scepter of Mo- 
 hammed." 
 
 " Not one until my life is taken," replied the gen- 
 eral, planting himself in a position of defense. 
 
 The prince thought it time to interfere. He 
 stepped between the two. " Gentlemen," he said, " I 
 am sorry to be the cause of this dispute." 
 
 " My lord ! " exclaimed the general, endeavoring to 
 push the prince one side, out of the way of the Turk- 
 ish officer. "The Greeks, Armenians, Latins, Copts, 
 and Syrians, Christian sects worshiping in the Church 
 of the Holy Sepulcher, are continually rioting and 
 brawling among themselves, till more blood is shed 
 in that building than on many battle-fields. The 
 Mohammedans own the church, and to prevent them
 
 346 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 from keeping a guard of Turkish soldiers tented 
 under the roof, the church authorities agree that 
 whenever a riot occurs the government shall arrest a 
 man, no matter whether innocent or guilty, and 
 demand a fine equal to two thousand rubles." 
 
 The prince replied quietly, " The law seems just, 
 and law must be obeyed. The government has surely 
 made a good selection, for I confess that in my haste 
 I did most rashly that which stirred up the riot." 
 Then turning to the Turk, he added, " Sir, I will go 
 with you. May I have any time to prepare myself? " 
 
 "What!" exclaimed the general, "to spend ten 
 years in a horrible Turkish dungeon? My lord 
 prince, you do not go. If either, it is I. But is not 
 Russia strong enough to protect us against such an 
 outrage ? " 
 
 "It is hardly an outrage, friend Wolzonn. You 
 forget you are beyond their power. They cannot 
 bind a Russian official. But I, my dear fellow, I 
 have no country." A tremor told how deep a suf- 
 fering those little words expressed, and the clear 
 voice was husky as it asked the Turk again, " Sir, 
 how soon must I be ready ? " 
 
 Another officer entered the room and exchanged a 
 few words in their native tongue with the one already 
 there, handing him a paper. He read it through, 
 folded it, sheathed his sword, and bowing as politely 
 as a Turk can bow when he chooses to be a gentle- 
 man, said, "Sir, or my lord, if I may congratulate 
 you, my work is already done. I am officially in- 
 formed that a man has given himself over and paid 
 the fine, and that the scepter of Mohammed is satis- 
 fied."
 
 THE FULL SUN AT EVENTIDE. 347 
 
 He had reached the door before the prince could 
 ask, " Does your information state who such a strange 
 man may be?" 
 
 The officer was all politeness. He took out his 
 paper again and read : "A Russian pilgrim doing 
 penance in the church, named Heinrich Charlovitz." 
 
 " Heinrich Charlovitz ! Yes, I thought as much," 
 said the prince, turning to General Wolzonn. "'Twas 
 he who grasped your hand by the altar. So be it. 
 He has repented. A genuine penance is such a 
 sacrifice." 
 
 The soldiers went out. The prince, worn out with 
 the long day, entered the chamber of death again, 
 and threw himself upon a divan. 
 
 Yes, it was Heinrich Charlovitz ! Long before, 
 when he had wrestled all night with the Lord, on the 
 frozen hillside above Schaumburg, before he dared 
 give the customary farewell blessing to the boy Vic- 
 tor, the voice from heaven that seemed to speak to 
 him had said : " You did this wicked thing, thinking 
 your reward would be the chief position, in the chief 
 sect worshiping at the Holy Sepulcher. Go now, 
 instead, upon a pilgrimage to Jerusalem." 
 
 In parting, Victor had made him a present of two 
 hundred and fifty rubles. He had counted it another 
 sign from heaven, and had never gone back to Schaum- 
 burg, lest the sight should weaken his resolve. He 
 had not been two hours in Jaffa he had not even left 
 the wharf when the princess and Elise approached. 
 Faint-hearted, homesick, discouraged he thought him- 
 self, and had leaned against the pillar, wishing as 
 Elise wished to her mistress a moment later for a 
 little plot of ground large enough for a grave. His
 
 348 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 life at the altar had been one of simple penance. 
 He had not come to be honored in Jerusalem. In the 
 first six months his money had been nearly all ex- 
 pended upon the board of the two at the hospice ; but 
 he began to extend his services and to receive pay, and 
 all that was not spent upon the princess was hoarded 
 up, in the hope that he might some day send them 
 back to Russia to claim their own. His courage failed 
 when they sent him the note for fifteen hundred rubles, 
 but he had laid it away with the rest till he should be 
 directed how to use it. 
 
 He was performing some of the functions of a priest 
 at the altar upon this New Year's Day. He easily 
 recognized the Prince von Meerschaum and the ap- 
 proach of the officer, and was ready, when the mo- 
 ment came, to intercept the blow. He eagerly watched 
 the duel and the restoration, and said, "Thank God! 
 May all go well with them ! " 
 
 The united body of priests had met, (it was only 
 upon such occasions that they ever were united,) and 
 Heinrich Charlovitz met with them. 
 
 " Send the soldiers for the man in Turkish dress," 
 said they. " He was seen to enter a house beyond 
 the Well-corner. We understand he is a prince, and 
 doubtless has the money required. It will save our 
 paying it." 
 
 Heinrich Charlovitz waited to hear no more. He 
 folded his hands over the same old Bible, worn and 
 ragged now, and whispered, " I thank thee, Father, 
 for another opportunity." 
 
 He took the money he saw now why Providence 
 had willed it sent to him and with it paid the fine, 
 gave himself over, and the work of the priests was
 
 THE FULL SUN AT EVENTIDE. 340 
 
 done. They instantly became five distinct, antagonistic 
 elements, and the hubbub and worship and blasphemy 
 went on much as before, and as it always has gone 
 on, and is going on to-day. Many never even missed 
 the silent, pale-faced Charlovitz, who had come in a 
 moment unbidden, gone in a moment unfarewelled. 
 But little did Father Charlovitz care for that. He 
 had not come to Jerusalem for honor. He was happy 
 at last happier than he had been before since the 
 tempter to evil had spoken to him under the naked 
 branches of the tree by the little church at Schaum- 
 burg ; emancipated by the shackles that hung upon his 
 wrists and ankles, and the gloomy dungeon-walls that 
 frowned on him. He never was tempted to regret the 
 step, but he looked at the irons and the walls, and 
 thought of how he had once entered another dungeon, 
 and in the pride of a wicked heart had said, " These 
 are the hands that bound those shackles there." And 
 the regret vanished. He was ready to suffer. 
 
 False at heart, he fell, conquered; but tried in the 
 fire, he rose again, and conquered. Bitter fruit the 
 seeds of evil brought him ; but from the harvest of 
 suffering he went out again with weeping, bearing 
 precious seed, from which, sowing, one will surely 
 come again rejoicing, having reaped an abundant har- 
 vest. Who can tell of the blackness of such a cloud 
 .of sin, when it hangs over one, but he who has seen 
 it? who else of ecstasy, when the clouds break away, 
 and through them pours blessed forgiveness, like the 
 full sun at eventide ?
 
 35O CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE MILLS OF THE GODS HAVE DONE GRINDING. 
 
 IN the quiet moonlight, just before the next day was 
 breaking, the priests had borne away the body 
 of the princess with those beautiful funefal rites of 
 the Greek Catholics, beyond the outer wall, and laid 
 it restfully beside the slumbering Holy City. It was 
 all over, and the prince was lying upon a divan, when 
 he suddenly became aware that he was not alone. He 
 opened his eyes, but looked no higher than the dress 
 to know that it was the woman in black who had cared 
 for his wife, then he closed them again. And still in 
 a soft, strange voice, a voice that seemed the burden 
 of a sob and yet a smile, she said, "This is the Prince 
 von Meerschaum?" 
 
 Mechanically his lips answered her, " I was," be- 
 fore his weary eyes had opened. 
 
 "Victor Reppoun," she said, "will you tell me if 
 you know me ? " 
 
 His eyes ran up from the black skirt to the white 
 face, from which the veil and hat had been removed. 
 He leaped from the divan, then sat slowly down 
 again. What a conflict was waging within him as 
 he answered, "I do know you, Kathi Chichkini." 
 
 " I supposed you would have forgotten me." 
 
 He shuddered. " It could not be."
 
 THE GODS' MILLS HAVE DONE GRINDING. 351 
 
 "Ah ! I vex you by being here, but I did not come 
 for that. The past should be forgotten with all its 
 pains and pleasures ; the present alone is valuable, if 
 out of it we make a future that is invaluable. You 
 said that once to me, and I laid it -very much to heart. 
 You hate me without cause. I am not come to ask 
 your love, nor would you give it if I pleaded for 
 it." (The prince moved as though he even yet 
 doubted himself.) "Listen to me, and you will not 
 regret it. In the fall, after you were hunting by 
 Arantha, I was taken away from the miller, given in 
 charge of an artist who lived outside the Roman Gate 
 at Florence, Signor Giovanni, you saw him at the 
 lake, and told to become his wife. Three months ago, 
 Albrecht von Bremen, of Denmark, fled to our house, 
 pursued by officers. He thought they would take his 
 life. He spent all night in telling me a strange his- 
 tory, and giving me papers and proofs of what he said. 
 He is imprisoned in Florence now for twenty years. 
 My husband went to Petersburg and easily obtained 
 your pardon, and this letter from the Tzar and Coun- 
 cil begging you to return. But he died before reach- 
 ing Florence again. Then I came here and found 
 your wife. I did it simply to right a grievous wrong, 
 and beg you to accept, as such, these tokens." 
 
 " With my whole heart," said the prince, " I ask 
 your pardon for the past, and thank you for this 
 present. But to accept your kindness and go back 
 to Russia, ah ! lady, I could not do it, though all the 
 empire did lie in the dust and beg." 
 
 " Ah, my lord, don't tell me that ! " 
 
 The prince kneeled. "Because you have done 
 this, inspired by some kindness not common among 
 men, and because you ask it, I would gladly go, as I
 
 35 2 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 would more gladly give you my life as thanks, if to 
 sacrifice it might serve you, or if such a mean sacrifice 
 might recompense. But, lady, you will crown your 
 generosity if you will accept my thanks and let me 
 stay a wanderer." 
 
 "What ! " she exclaimed, " is there no tie of friend- 
 ship there? No fellowship? No fond association that 
 one might plead to draw you back again ? " 
 
 " Not one ! I have learned to be a wanderer ; " and 
 yet his voice trembled as he said it. 
 
 "But you will be weary of this wandering," she 
 said, "and when you are, remember that pardon waits 
 for you at St. Petersburg. And fear not, I pray you, to 
 take refuge in my little home outside the Roman gate. 
 The princess, your mother, whom you loved so dearly, 
 was a Dane. My mother was a Dane, but though I 
 never knew her to love, I have at least loved dearly 
 that ideal mother of my heart. Let this be a bond of 
 friendship between us that shall never be transgressed 
 or widened. Promise me that you will come. There 
 is a friend of yours living near to me, whom I know 
 you would be glad to see." 
 
 The prince rose, and taking one hand in his and 
 laying his other hand on her head, after the fashion 
 of the Polish peasants, said, "May God reward you, 
 Kathi Chichkini Giovanni, and may he forgive me ! 
 I am not worthy to enter your house. I am not worthy 
 that you breathe one breath for me. But she was worthy 
 for whom you have done so much ; would she had 
 lived to enjoy your kindness ! " 
 
 " Victor Reppoun," cried Kathi Chichkini, " you do 
 not know what you are saying. You do not know 
 what you are doing, if you refuse me this promise.
 
 THE GODS' MILLS HAVE DONE GRINDING. 353 
 
 For you if you believe that I have done anything, 
 let me know at least where I may find you, if a matter 
 of importance should demand it. And when that time 
 comes, you shall admit that I have not asked a foolish 
 thing." 
 
 " Kathi Chichkini, I promise you. When I was 
 able, I fortunately spent much time in study. Now 
 it enables me to support myself in writing for several 
 French and English publishers. Here is the card of 
 one of them. They always know as well as I, which 
 is not very well, where I may be found. Farewell." 
 
 She had turned to leave him. 
 
 "Farewell, Prince Reppoun," she said. "You will 
 not regret it if you come to Florence." 
 
 Before she reached the door, General Wolzonn 
 had entered and stood beside it. 
 
 " Madame," said he, " for one moment, let me en- 
 treat you, stay. My lord prince, pardon me. This 
 lady did not close the door when she entered. 
 Through the crack I heard you say, ' I know you, 
 Kathi Chichkini.' Call it eavesdropping if you will. 
 I have listened to all the rest, because I knew it 
 would end in this way ; and, Prince Reppoun, the 
 lady has something more to tell." 
 
 "Friend Wolzonn, what is this you say? Is there 
 still another mystery? What a snarl our lives are 
 in ! Kathi Chichkini, have you something more to 
 tell?" 
 
 " I do not understand the officer. No, there is 
 nothing, Prince von Meerschaum. There is not an- 
 other thing to tell. Pray, sir, let me pass you, for I 
 will go out." 
 
 Still the general prevented her. 
 23
 
 354 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 " Nay, only a moment," he pleaded. " Prince Rep- 
 poun, join with me." 
 
 "I tell you, sir, I have nothing more to say; and I 
 will go." 
 
 " Then, lady, I shall tell it after you are gone, and 
 he will follow you before you are out of sight," said 
 the officer, as he stepped one side. 
 
 She waited, saying, " Sir, there is no need to tell 
 at all. If you have politeness toward a lady, you 
 will hold your peace." 
 
 " Then there is something," interposed the prince. 
 "And now, lady, my curiosity is on fire. Is it some- 
 thing that I should not know? " 
 
 She made no answer for a moment; then turning 
 shortly to the general, said in that sharp, quick tone 
 that seemed to the prince to come directly out of the 
 woods by Arantha, " Please, sir, say what } r ou have 
 to say as quickly as possible. I will have bravery 
 and listen, if you are a coward and betray." 
 
 "Friend Wolzonn," said the prince, "if what you 
 would say will cast a shadow in this room, then I 
 protest I will not hear it." 
 
 M I say it, my lord, because it will bring sunshine ! 
 But first I will ask, with hosts of others, will you not 
 go back to Russia? Think, my lord, of the House 
 of Meerschaum." 
 
 "You know already," said the prince, " that to sit 
 upon the throne I would not go back to Russia ! 
 Three months in a dripping dungeon thrust a poisoned 
 dart in here, that Meerschaum has no balm to heal. 
 Life has been sweet to me till now, for there were 
 desires in life. I would find my wife before I died, 
 and be forgiven. I would see Kathi Chichkini, and
 
 THE GODS' MILLS HAVE DONE GRINDING. 355 
 
 be by her forgiven. I would know that the Dane, 
 that affluent mischief-maker, was well out of the way 
 of making any mischief for my boy. I would see 
 the Russian Tzar and Council convinced that they 
 were wrong. I would know that Father Charlovitz 
 had repented of a very great unfaithfulness toward 
 me and mine, that I might love him again as I loved 
 him through all our early life together. And last of 
 all," he smiled, " I would wreak a little vengeance on 
 my old friend Wolzonn, for his left-handed courtesy 
 down by the pyramid, and then convince him, if 
 I could, that revenge was not required of him. 
 During this present day all these desires have been 
 fulfilled with an astonishing rapidity, that seems to 
 be ominous almost that my days of life are done. 
 At all events, I have nothing more to look for than 
 to live as God would have me, till He calls me 
 hence. What folly for me to run after a princedom, I, 
 who have had too much of one already ! What next, 
 friend Wolzonn? This was an untimely interruption." 
 "The next, my lord, is a confession. When I was 
 a boy, in a moment of passion, I struck with a sword 
 and killed a nobleman. The only one who knew 
 of it was Albrecht von Bremen. You pity me. 
 Yes, I was to be pitied. Five years went by. Then, 
 to keep him from disclosing the murder, I allowed 
 him to drive me to become a party to carrying off the 
 daughter of a Russian nobleman. There was no 
 search made for her, because the parents, the father 
 at least, desired it, and paid the Dane well for doing 
 the work, that there might be but one heir to the 
 estate, while I supported the girl to hide the murder. 
 Now I have confessed enough to show you that I
 
 356 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 know of what I speak. Beyond this, tell me, prince, 
 did you ever hear of Marie, Marie Reppoun, in all 
 your life ? " 
 
 "Marie? Yes. Marie Reppoun? I have read that 
 name many a time on a tablet in the little church at 
 Schaumburg." 
 
 " But, my lord, the body of another- child was laid 
 there. Marie Reppoun was not dead ! She sh 
 In fact she stands before you ! " 
 
 The general, in his characteristically blunt way, 
 having leaped upon the point at last, after taxing 
 himself to the utmost to perambulate about it, suc- 
 cumbed, and crept back into a corner. He had done 
 his duty, and there were certain reasons why it cost 
 him many a hard struggle before he nerved himself 
 to begin, and finally got through with it. The prince 
 caught the small figure in his arms. "Kathi, is this 
 true? " he cried. 
 
 " It is true, my dear, dear brother," she whispered, 
 and clung about his neck for an instant. Then push- 
 ing herself away, she said rapidly, " But it does not 
 matter. Let me go now. It was partly because it 
 was my mother, too, whom you loved, that I wanted 
 you to come to Florence. Now you will come, will 
 you not, my brother, and tell me all about her? " 
 
 In her anxiety to go and leave the matter just 
 where it was, it had gone already much further than 
 she wished. She did not notice that, white as mar- 
 ble, the prince had staggered backward, and was 
 leaning heavily against the wall. His voice faltered 
 absently as he replied, w Yes, Kathi, I yes, I will 
 go to Florence. Wait ! " He pressed his hand upon 
 his forehead as if trying to solve something inexpli-
 
 THE GODS MILLS HAVE DONE GRINDING. 357 
 
 cable. " Wait 1 " The general and Kathi both started 
 toward him. " Kathi, there is still a mystery. You 
 know more ! Tell me ! tell me ! I no, I am not your 
 brother ; no, Kathi, no. I see it now without your 
 telling me. It comes dimly but more clearly out of 
 mists of fraud. The Princess von Meerschaum had 
 but one child ; that I know. They told me I was the 
 only child ; that Marie was adopted ; that Marie died. 
 But see ! " He drew the medallion from where it still 
 hung about his neck, and looked at it eagerly, com- 
 paring it with the face before him, while Kathi cast 
 a withering glance at the officer, that seemed to 
 say, "I told you so," and the general began to wish 
 he had listened before. Neither had thought the 
 prince would go so far. " There is her hair," said he, 
 " her eyes, her cheeks, her mouth, and in character her 
 nobility. Lovely Kathi Chichkini," he cried, falling 
 on his knees again, "you are her child, her only 
 child ! and I I I must have been adopted ! And 
 the Dane was right, and the priest. Why did I 
 not listen?" He rose slowly to his feet. "Great 
 Heavens ! I, who am not higher than a pauper, have 
 lived and gloried in a princedom, while for that, a 
 princess, who from my position I did not dare to 
 stoop to marry, has worked for her daily bread I 
 What an anomaly! 'To err is human, to forgive 
 divine.' I have been human; Marie Reppoun, can 
 you be divine ? " 
 
 She had almost smothered the last words which 
 she would not hear, clasping him again about the 
 neck. 
 
 "Here is her medallion," he continued ; "take it; 
 you will love it as I have loved it. There has not
 
 35 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 been an hour that it has not felt my heart beat, since 
 the time she gave it me." He turned to the general. 
 "Friend Wolzonn, take up this case. YOL took 
 her away from a princedom ; it is but just that you 
 should take her back again. Promise me that you 
 will faithfully see Marie Reppoun established in Castle 
 Foam as the heir of Meerschaum ! " 
 
 The general knelt with one hand on his sword- 
 scabbard. With the other he crossed himself, and 
 answered, "My lord, I swear it." 
 
 " And, by the way," added the prince, " let me com- 
 mend to you good Charlovitz. He should be ran- 
 somed quickly, and if you see fit lo reinstate him over 
 the little church in Schaumburg, you will find a sad- 
 der, wiser, and better man for the past failures and 
 sacrifices." 
 
 A shadow crossed the face of the man who had so 
 manfully stood to duty, though it made the prince a 
 pauper in the hour when he became a prince again. 
 He would not have it known, and, with a hardly forced 
 smile, walked to the window. The new princess 
 was not less quick to see than the discerning peasant 
 girl. She silently crossed the room, and clasped his 
 arm that rested on the sash. 
 
 " Victor Reppoun , did you think I would do it ? " 
 she whispered. "You are brave; you are noble. 
 Remember ! Kathi Chichkini says that. But now 
 you are thinking of your boy , the little Prince Victor. 
 He should be thought of. My daughter was born to 
 earn what she lived upon. Victor was born to be a 
 prince." 
 
 The prince interrupted her. " If Victor is fit to be 
 a prince, he is well able to be a man. The pain I
 
 THE GODS' MILLS HAVE DONE GRINDING. 359 
 
 suffered was not because I feared he would grumble 
 at his lot. A braver boy I never knew. He will 
 work in the world like a man, and will thank me for 
 telling him that he is but a man, as I should have 
 thanked one who would have saved me from occupy- 
 ing another's place so long. But how do you know 
 of Victor?" 
 
 " I know him well and love him well. He has 
 lived with us for a long time. It was to see him that 
 I would have had you come to Florence." 
 
 " It was your husband under whom he studied? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " And your daughter whose face he painted so suc- 
 cessfully ? " 
 
 " It was my little Kathi." 
 
 " I have heard about it," said the prince. Then he 
 was silent for a moment. Suddenly he looked down 
 into the dark eyes that were raised to his just as they 
 had been at Arantha. 
 
 "The girl is a picture of the mother," he said 
 slowly. A mother's eyes are doubly brilliant when 
 one speaks to her of her child. 
 
 " How do you know that? " she asked, with the old 
 smile from Arantha. 
 
 " I went to Florence to see the picture," he said. 
 " I heard of it in Egypt. She will be as beautiful 
 and very like your mother." The clear voice trem- 
 bled. He dared not trust himself to speak for a 
 moi/^/it, then he asked, " Does she love Victor and 
 he love her?" 
 
 "Such children ! twelve and thirteen years old 
 to love ! " she said ; but he read another answer in her 
 eyes.
 
 360 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 "'Tis well," said he, with an answering smile. 
 " Let Victor be a man. I will write him a letter. 
 No, I will see him and explain it all. You shal 1 take 
 Kathi to Meerschaum. It is a lovely spot, though 
 full of gall to me. Then, when the time shall come, 
 if he shall wish and she be willing, let them marry. 
 God bless the match !" 
 
 "And now, Kathi-Marie," he added softly, putting 
 his strong arm about her, "you are coming to your 
 own in spite of this wicked world and your noble 
 generosity. The justice of Heaven would have it 
 so. You have lost but a few years at the most, 
 may you have many, many more. Nor will the past 
 be altogether lost to you, for the lessons of the peas- 
 ant shall give wisdom to the princess. And mind 
 well, Kathi, you could not find it in the royalty of 
 empires to give you one heart-beat of the satisfac- 
 tion that was yours when you left me by the lake 
 at Arantha." 
 
 They stood thus, silently, for a long time in the 
 shadows growing darker till all was black but the 
 twinkling stars above, then Kathi slipped from his 
 side, only pressing a kiss upon the hand that she 
 lifted from her shoulder. 
 
 He was alone, sweeping with an understanding, 
 comprehensive glance the mysterious intricacies of 
 the past, each day, each hour burdened with the 
 hand of God and man in conflict. The agony he had 
 suffered, the prayer he had prayed, came back to him. 
 Slowly he repeated it. 
 
 Then he added, " At last I understood it all, and 
 see the answ r er to my prayer."
 
 CASTLE FOAM, 
 
 PART III> 
 
 'Never here, forever there. 
 Where all parting, pain and care, 
 And death and time shall disappear- 
 Forever there, but never here."
 
 THE END. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 EVERY thing comes to an end except a circle. We 
 have rambled about over many lands together, 
 following fortunes far apart from, yet, after all, very 
 close to each other, and it is full time that this ram- 
 bling came to an end. Let us get back again, if we 
 can, to the place from which we started, and say good- 
 night. I have wearied you to read, and for you I have 
 wearied me to write. An even exchange is no robbery, 
 and the clock strikes six. Tea, toast, a cigar and the 
 newspaper, doubtless you will agree with me, will 
 be much more to the point than another hour of this. 
 
 It was in 1856 that I was hunting up in North India, 
 with the party described in the first chapter of this 
 book. Eighteen hundred and fifty-six ! Twenty-one 
 years after the events that closed the last chapter. To 
 build a little bridge across will take but a moment. 
 
 Victor Reppoun went to Florence and saw his son 
 for the first time since the melancholy breaking up at 
 Castle Foam, and did not see him afterward, for sev- 
 eral insurmountable barriers. The boy bore the news, 
 as the father had predicted, "like a man." Upon 
 the day that he was twenty he received as a birthday 
 gift the sweetest little note, from the sweetest little 
 girl imaginable, who, according to the wish of his
 
 364 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 father, he had not seen again ; saying that she had been 
 true to the little love promises of twelve and thirteen, 
 and that, if he would like, her mother invited him to 
 come, as he had promised, to Castle Foam for the 
 holidays. And that same mother did not let him go 
 away again. 
 
 The estates Von Kramareff were forfeited by the 
 countess, and of course fell to Constantine Wolzonn. 
 The fact that this must result from the disclosure he 
 had obtained from Albrecht von Bremen had acted 
 strongly, with other objections, to keep him so long 
 from declaring it. When at last he became the Count 
 von KramarefF, he did not know what to do with him- 
 self. He walked through the elegant great mansion 
 like a sheep upon a sand hill. He thought of renting 
 it, but that would not do. Once upon a time he had 
 grumbled almost to cursing his luck that he was not 
 born noble. Now that the nobility had come, he 
 would almost have asked to be excused. He was to 
 be found at the mansion from bed-time till breakfast 
 had been eaten, no longer. The servants at last gave 
 up preparing for him any meal but breakfast, and 
 never opened a room of the house but they were told 
 to lock it up again. They said the old countess had 
 been bad enough in her solemnity, but this man was 
 intolerably worse. At length, one day, he fell to talk- 
 ing about the past in Frau von Ockel's library ; moral- 
 izing over the curious meandering of affairs. He had 
 been silent for a moment. One of the gloomy shad- 
 ows of that past had darkened his brow into a stern 
 frown, when the frau, with one of her merry laughs 
 that made every one about her happy, stopped directly 
 in front of him.
 
 THE END. 365 
 
 "Well, well!" she said, "if you are not the very 
 soberest man I ever saw ! " 
 
 " I was thinking," he replied with a slight laugh. 
 
 "Possible?" asked the lady incredulously, arching 
 her voice and her eyebrows. " And pray what could 
 you find to think about on a bright day like this ? " 
 
 "To tell the truth, I was thinking how insignificant 
 I have always been, and am always likely to be, in this 
 fate-governed world." 
 
 "Those are pretty long words," she replied; "but 
 did I not tell you years ago that the world would not 
 follow the beck of one little finger, no matter how 
 much of a finger it might be?" 
 
 "But you did not tell me, lady, that it would pay no 
 attention at all." 
 
 "Well, well ! And think if I had told you all that 
 at once, it might have discouraged you." 
 
 The frau went on with her work. She was mak- 
 ing some comfort for a sick woman, and the fingers 
 flew as though they were used to such occupations and 
 enjoyed them. There was silence again in the little 
 room. Born of the silence, a new idea came with a 
 leap into the new count's head. Strange, marvelous- 
 ly strange, he had never thought of it before ; but to 
 this day, reader, there are some who are marvelously 
 stupid in the matter of new ideas. When it did occur 
 to him, however, he spoke it out after his own blunt 
 fashion, and without so much as trying to preambu- 
 late. 
 
 Frau von Ockel was "taken quite aback," as ladies 
 say, and thoroughly surprised, no doubt. She laughed. 
 Blessed ray of sunshine ! Did any one ever know of 
 a time when she was not laughing with those who
 
 366 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 were ready to laugh, who so often wept with those 
 who were weeping? 
 
 " But you and I are quite too old for such fly-away 
 nonsense," she said. 
 
 " It is not nonsense," said the new count. He was 
 actually kneeling before her. "I know that my hair 
 is more white than brown, but my heart is young when 
 you are about. And as for you, God knows, lady, you 
 never could grow old." So it came about that there 
 was a Countess von KramarefF again. And fortunate- 
 ly the countess was an improvement, if that could be, 
 upon the Frau von Ockel whom every one loved. 
 
 Thus matters stood at St. Petersburg when we went 
 hunting in India in 1856. For five days, shooting by 
 the way, we rode northward ; past herds of the silver- 
 hoofed gazelle in the jungle, and stork and flamingo 
 in the marshes. Cool blew the breeze from the high- 
 lands to the north of us, as on the sixth morning we 
 mounted our horses. We had reached the hunting- 
 ground for the famous black buck, and a royal day 
 the snow-crowned hunter promised us. As it wore on, 
 the old man grew excited in the chase. He stripped 
 off his Hindoo robe, and bare to the waist, his broad 
 shoulders burned almost as brown as his face, con- 
 trasting strangely with his long white hair and snow- 
 white beard, on his black charger white with foam, 
 he certainly appeared reveling in his native element. 
 
 A drove had run to cover in a deep jungle to all 
 appearance impenetrable. Tall palms, like sentinels 
 about the outer edge, waved gracefully their loaded 
 heads, seeming to say, ''Thus far and no farther ; " while 
 vines, trailing from trunk to trunk and through the 
 thick undergrowth, substantiated the opposition. But
 
 THE END. 367 
 
 the drove had entered, and the coolies must follow ; 
 while we formed a half circle at a little distance from 
 the jungle. 
 
 "There is handsome game in the jungle," said the 
 hunter, and he was right. 
 
 He grew impatient before the coolies had been as 
 long as usual in the shelter. "The lazy fellows !" he 
 exclaimed ; " they stop to lunch on plantains the mo- 
 ment they are out of sight. Wait a bit, friends, and 
 I will do their work for them." 
 
 He dashed the rowels into the black sides, and the 
 horse with a leap crushed his way into the under- 
 growth. 
 
 There was a dead silence for a moment. No ordi- 
 nary sound from within ever comes out of one of these 
 jungles, and even the deep breathing of the horses 
 seemed subdued in the strange silence outside. I fan- 
 cied a chill, foreboding evil, ran round our little semi- 
 circle ; a dread presentiment. Was it possible? 
 
 That silence was broken by a terrific roar that shook 
 the earth and seemed almost to rend the very sky. 
 An instant, and the sharp whinny of a horse in pain 
 mingled with a human cry burst upon our ears, as the 
 huge Arabian black sprang from the jungle like an 
 antelope. Two riders were upon his back. One was 
 the white-bearded hunter, hugging with one hand his 
 horse's neck. The other rider was a royal Bengal 
 tiger. With bound after bound the animal tore past 
 us, but his double burden fell heavily directly at our 
 feet. 
 
 I sat upon my horse momentarily paralyzed by the 
 shock. Next me sat the man to whom I devoted much, 
 of the first chapter. The hunter fell between u j the
 
 368 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 tiger still above him. His turban had fallen off ; his 
 face was buried in the thick fur. But from high on 
 his bold forehead, down the left temple, and lost 
 again in his heavy beard, a broad white scar was 
 plainly seamed against the bronze skin. 
 
 " MY FATHER ! " cried the one beside me, and be- 
 fore another man could move he had leaped from his 
 horse, and pressed to the hilt his hunting-knife into 
 the tiger's throat. Loosing his hold, with one wild 
 howl, the tiger rolled over and lay dead. But death 
 had not come from the last blade, for fastened in the 
 hunter's hand, in a grasp we were unable to loose, 
 was his own long hunting-knife dripping with blood. 
 He himself had killed the tiger, but the enormous 
 weight falling upon him from the horse had returned 
 a death vengeance. 
 
 Breathlessly we stood about him, applying what 
 we could of restoratives, while the coolies hurried for 
 the tent. At last his eyes opened. They fell upon 
 the one who was naturally kneeling nearest him. 
 They smiled. The eyes smiled. "Victor, my boy !" 
 said he. 
 
 He had known him ! What a strange power of the 
 will that should keep that knowledge till he chose. 
 
 The shadows gathered. We made a bed for him 
 where he lay, and placed a tent over him. The 
 coolies on unsandaled feet brought in the cup of oil 
 and lit the floating wick. Having done all that could 
 be done, we left the tent and our stranger-friend with 
 the dying prince. 
 
 I had scarcely entered my own tent when a hand 
 was laid upon my shoulder. It was the hand of 
 Victor Reppoun.
 
 THE END. 369 
 
 "Will you be a friend in need," said he, " and watch 
 with me to-night?" 
 
 On a camp-chair in the door of his tent I sat the 
 long night through, facing the darkness and the broad 
 plain, dotted with its blacker jungles ; sat and listened, 
 there was no choice, to the exchange of strange stories, 
 and the history of a life. 
 
 I listened so intently, so spellbound, that if I heard, 
 it aroused no curiosity when early in the evening a 
 rustling in the dry grass betrayed a presence near me, 
 and the moonlight shone upon the figure of a man 
 crouching outside the tent, his face pressed against 
 the canvas. It was one of our hunting party. I did 
 not even ask myself which one. Together we watched 
 and waited till the night .was dying in the west, and 
 day awaking in the east. Then I noted that he softly 
 crept away ; and heard him repeat that word so com- 
 mon in Florence as he went, "Ecco Mio" That was all. 
 
 Death-silence reigned. I turned. The young prince 
 knelt beside the lifeless body of his father. He un- 
 clasped a crucifix that lay upon his breast, and kissing 
 it, repeated the formula, "My God hath willed it so, 
 and His great will be done." Then he hung it about 
 his own neck, kissed the cold forehead, covered the 
 face, and went out alone toward the rising sun. 
 
 No one saw him again till at night, when the coolies 
 digged a grave, and we gathered about it. He was 
 there. No priest nor bishop of any creed, nor con- 
 secrated ground had we, but we bowed our heads 
 and silently buried him, with the black jungle for his 
 monument. Wrapped in his Eastern robes and tur- 
 ban, he rested quietly after the swift vicissitudes of 
 three-score years and four. Softly and solemnly the
 
 370 CASTLE FOAM. 
 
 wind wailed the funeral dirge as we threw the earth 
 back again over the uncoffined corpse, giving the 
 ashes to ashes and the dust to dust. Five of us 
 mourners were human, and one, more bereft than any, 
 a chief mourner, without a motion save each long- 
 drawn breath, with head stretched pleading forward, 
 the coal-black Arab, who loved him as Black Auster 
 loved his Roman master. When the work was done, 
 and the last clod replaced, the moonlight floated softly, 
 silvery, over the plain from the far horizon, and lin- 
 gered on the mound as we stood in a silent circle 
 about it, the great black head thrust over our shoul- 
 ders, waiting waiting for the minister to say "Amen." 
 
 Suddenly the horse gave a piercing cry, and turning 
 away, left us all forever. We sought in vain for him 
 afterward. 
 
 And still we stood about the mound. Was not the 
 service ended? Not quite. 
 
 Some one moved. Instinctively I felt that it was he 
 of our party who had lain outside the tent all night. 
 
 Slowly he stepped into the midst of the circle and 
 knelt upon the mound, muttering, "Ecco Mio? as he 
 touched the earth. He lifted a wan, haggard face, 
 not to any of us about him, but to something beyond 
 that which our eyes saw, and exclaimed with muffled 
 eagerness : " Oh, everlasting almost, end here in 
 one success ! I have sown the wind, and reaped the 
 whirlwind. I have fought without conquering. This 
 is the only sacrifice that it is left for Albrecht von Bre- 
 men to offer to one whom he worse than murdered. 
 Here where our bodies do almost meet, farewell for- 
 ever, Prince Victor von Meerschaum ! " The moon 
 fell full on his upturned face, the silver in his hair
 
 THE END. 3^! 
 
 caught the soft light and held it upon his uncovered 
 head, his eyes shone as if looking at victory. It was 
 a savage victory it was a dagger that gleamed in 
 his hand, and fell like lightning buried in his breast. 
 
 There they lie, together. Lost ! forgotten ! And 
 what's in a life and a name, and a history now, be 
 it better or worse, murdered or murderer, to the Prince 
 von Meerschaum, or the Dane von Bremen, all alone 
 in that wild, forsaken plain in India? 
 
 Nothing indeed ! nothing, if they are always to lie 
 there. But if by chance Count Olendorff were right, 
 and there come another reaping-time, at which from a 
 name and a life and a history, they, and you and I 
 in the same fashion, must reap another harvest, upon 
 the quality of which, be it good or bad, we must sub- 
 sist forever and ever, then it becomes of importance 
 to them, after all, and will not be lost and forgotten, 
 but laid away somewhere to witness in that day 
 what? And I cannot help repeating that text so mys- 
 teriously and appropriately given, before the sermon 
 was preached to me, as I sit of a cool evening watch- 
 ing, in the fire, figure after figure playing a part, and 
 thinking of the two lives, so different, so imperfect, un- 
 justified, and uncondemned, yet punished and rewarded, 
 working so untiringly against each other, yet in the 
 end bringing about, in spite of their intentions, precise- 
 ly the same result. There is something deeper than 
 chance in it all. There is something surer than luck. 
 There must be a Ruler in the incomprehensible Infinite, 
 transcending our knowledge, who " helpeth them to 
 right that suffer wrong," who " feedeth the hungry," 
 who " helpeth them that are fallen, and as for the way 
 of the ungodly (who) turneth it upside down."
 
 Mill 
 
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