And draining his goblet, which was of green Nuremberg gla.s.s, and of no mean value, he dashed it to the floor, an example which was immediately followed by all present, so that the crash of gla.s.s and clang of sword-hilts filled the room with high-pitched sounds that seemed to intoxicate the ear.

My lady rose and bowed thrice, with her cheek crimson and her eyes soft. Then she turned to retire, while all remained standing. The general accompanied her as far as the door of the withdrawing-room, the Waldgrave following with Fraulein Anna; while the dwarf marched side by side with me, keeping step with an absurd gravity which filled the room with laughter. On the threshold the general and his companions left us with low bows; but in a trice Tzerclas came back to say a word in my ear.

'See to the other door,' he muttered, flashing a grim look at me.

'There may be deep drinking. If any offer so much as a word of rudeness here, he shall hang, drunk or sober. Have a care, therefore, that no one has the chance.'

Then my heart sank, for I knew, hearing his tone and seeing his face, as he said that, that Fraulein Anna was right. He loved my mistress.

He loved her! I went away to my place by the door, feeling as if he had struck me in the face. For if she loved him in return that were bad enough; and if she did not, what then, seeing that we were in his power?

Certainly he had omitted nothing on this occasion that might charm her. I thought the feast over; but in the withdrawing-room a fresh collation of dainty sweets and syrups awaited my lady, with a great gold bowl of rosewater. The man, too, who had played on the Italian viol brought it in, that she might see and examine it more closely.

From my post at the door, I saw Fraulein Anna flitting about, bringing her short-sighted eyes down to everything, thrusting her face into the rose-water, and peering at the weapons and stuffs as if she would eat them. All the while, too, I could hear her prattling ceaseless praise of everything--the general's taste, the general's wealth, his generosity, his skill in Latin, his love for Caesar--the fat book I had seen him studying by the fire--above all, his appreciation of Voetius, of whom I shrewdly believe he had never heard before.

My lady sat almost silent under the steady shower of words, listening and thinking, and now and then touching the strings of the viol which lay forgotten on her lap. Perhaps she was dreaming of her two admirers, perhaps only giving ear to the growing tumult in the room we had left, where the revellers were still at their wine. By-and-by we heard them break into song, and then in thunder the chorus came rolling out--

'Hoch! Who rides with old Pappenheim knee to knee The sword is his t.i.tle, the world is his fee!

He knows nor Monarch, nor Sire, nor clime Who follows the banner of bold Pappenheim!'

My lady's lip curled. 'Is there no one on our side they can sing?' she muttered, tapping the viol impatiently with her fingers. 'Have we no heroes? Has Count Bernard never headed a charge or won a fight?

Pappenheim? I am tired of the man.'

The note jarred on her, as it had on me when I first heard these men, paid by the north, singing the praises of the great southern raider.

But a moment later she turned her head to hear better, and her face grew thoughtful. A great shout of 'Waska! Waska!' rang above the jingling of gla.s.ses and s.n.a.t.c.hes of song; and then, 'The Waldgrave!

The Waldgrave!' This time the cry was less boisterous, the voices were fewer.

My lady turned to me. 'What is it?' she said, a note of anxiety in her voice.

I was unable to tell her and I listened. By-and-by a roar of laughter made itself heard, and was followed by a cry of 'Waska!' as before.

And then, 'The Thuringian Code! The Thuringian Code! It is his turn!'

'They are drinking, your excellency,' I said reluctantly. 'It is a drinking match, I think!'

She rose with a grand gesture, and set the little viol back on the table. 'I am going,' she said, almost fiercely. 'Let the horses be called.'

Fraulein Max looked scared, but my lady's face forbade argument or reply; and for my part I was not a whit unwilling. I turned and gave the order to Jacob. While he was away the Countess remained standing, tapping the floor with her foot.

'On this day--on this day they might have abstained!' she muttered wrathfully, as the chorus of riot and laughter grew each moment louder and wilder.

I thought so too, and was glad besides of anything which might work a breach between her and the general. But I little knew what was going to happen. It came upon us while we waited, with no more warning than I have described. The door by which we had left the banqueting chamber flew suddenly open, and three men, borne in on a wave of cheering and uproar, staggered in upon us, the leader reeling under the blows which his applauding followers rained upon his shoulders.

'There! Said I not so?' he cried thickly, lurching to one side to escape them, and almost falling. 'Where ish your Waska. Your Waska now I'd like to know! Waska is great, but I am--greater--greater, you see.

I can shoot, drink, fight, and make love better than any man here! Eh!

Who shays I can't? Eh? Itsh the Countesh! My cousin the Countesh! Ah!'

Alas, it was the Waldgrave! And yet not the Waldgrave. This man's face was pale and swollen and covered with perspiration. His eyes were heavy and sodden, and his hair strayed over them. His collar and his coat were open at the neck, and his sash and the front of his dress were stained and reeking with wine. His hands trembled, his legs reeled, his tongue was too large for his mouth. He smiled fatuously at us. Yet it _was_ the Waldgrave--drunk!

My lady's face froze as she looked at him. She raised her hand, and the men behind him fell back abashed and left him standing there, propping himself uncertainly against the wall.

'Well, your excellenshy,' he stuttered with a hiccough--the sudden silence surprised him--'you don't congratulatsh me! Waska is under table. Under table, I shay!'

My lady looked at him, her eyes blazing with scorn. But she said nothing; only her fingers opened and closed convulsively. I turned to see if Jacob had come back. He entered at that moment and General Tzerclas with him.

'Your excellency's horses are coming,' the general said in his usual tone. Then he saw the Waldgrave and the open door, and he started with surprise. 'What is this?' he said. His face was flushed and his eyes were bright. But he was sober.

The drunken man tried to straighten himself. 'Ashk Waska!' he said.

Alas! his good looks were gone. I regarded him with horror, I knew what he had done.

'The horses?' the general muttered.

My lady drew a deep breath, as a person recovering consciousness does, and turned slowly towards him. 'Yes,' she said, shuddering from head to foot, 'if you please. I wish to go.'

The young lord heard the horses come to the door, and staggered forward. 'Yesh, letsh go. I'll go too,' he stuttered with a foolish laugh. 'Letsh all go. Except Waska! He is under the table. Letsh all go, I say! Eh? Whatsh thish?'

I pushed him back and held him against the wall while the general led my lady out. But, oh the pity of it, the wrath, the disappointment that filled my breast as I did so! This was the end of my duel! This was the stay to which I had trusted! The Waldgrave's influence with my lady? It was gone--gone as if it had never been. A spider's web, a rope of sand, a straw were after this a stronger thing to depend upon, a more sure safeguard, a stouter holdfast for a man in peril!

He came to my lady next morning about two hours after sunrise, when the dew was still on the gra.s.s and the birds--such as had lost their first broods or were mating late--were in full song. The camp was sleeping off its debauch, and the village street was bright and empty, with a dog here and there gnawing a bone, or sneaking round the corner of a building. My lady had gone out early to the fallen tree with her psalm book; and was sitting there in the freshness of the morning, with her back to the house and the street, when his shadow fell across the page and she looked up and saw him.

She said 'good morning' very coldly, and he for a moment said nothing, but stood, sullenly making a hole in the dust with his toe and looking down at it. His face was pale, where it was not red with shame, and his eyes were heavy and dull; but otherwise the wine he had taken had left no mark on his vigorous youth.

My lady after speaking looked down at her book again, and he continued to stand before her like a whipped schoolboy, stealing every now and then a furtive look at her. At length she looked up again.

'Do you want anything?' she said.

This time he returned her gaze, with his face on fire, trying to melt her. And I think that there were not many more unhappy men at that moment than he. His fancy, liking, love were centred in the woman before him; in a mad freak he had outraged, insulted, estranged her.

He did not know what to do, how to begin, what plan to put forward. He could for the moment only look, with shame and misery in his face.

It was a plea that would have melted many, but my lady only grew harder. 'Did you hear me?' she said proudly. 'Do you want anything?'

'You know!' he cried impetuously, and his voice broke out fiercely and seemed to beat against her impa.s.siveness as a bird against the bars of its cage. 'I was a beast last night. But, oh, Rotha, forgive me.'

'I think that we had better not talk about it,' my lady answered him stonily. 'It is past, and we need not quarrel over it. I shall be wiser next time,' she added. 'That is all.'

'Wiser?' he muttered.

'Yes; wiser than to trust myself to your protection,' she replied ruthlessly.

He shrank back as if she had struck him, and for a moment pain and rage brought the blood surging to his cheeks. He even took a step as if to leave her; but when love and pride struggle in a young man, love commonly has it, and he turned again and stood hesitating, the picture of misery.

'Is that all you will say to me?' he muttered, his voice unsteady.

My lady moved her feet uneasily. Then she shut her book, and looked round as if she would have willingly escaped. But she was not stone; and when at length she turned to him, her face was changed.

'What do you want me to say?' she asked gently.