"G.o.d."

Once more the soundless laugh.

"Then I shall play the part of G.o.d. Bertha, you must now make your decision: a marriage for the good of the State, or the ten-foot chain, the dark room--and love!"

"Even you will not dare this, sire."

"Bertha, there is nothing I do not dare. What would be known? I give orders that this room be utterly darkened; I send secret police to seize a man from the city at random and fetter him to a chain in that room; then I bring you to the room and fasten you to the other end of the chain, and for three days I have food introduced into the room. Results?

For the man, death; for you, a knowledge first of yourself and, secondly, of love. The State will benefit."

"It is b.e.s.t.i.a.l--incredible."

"b.e.s.t.i.a.l? Tut! I play the part of G.o.d and even surpa.s.s Him. I put you face to face with a temptation through which you shall come to know yourself. You lose a dream; you gain a fact. It is well. Shame will guard the secret in your heart--and the State will benefit. Still you see that I am paternal--merciful. I do not punish you for your past obstinacy. I still give you a choice. Bertha, will you marry as I wish, or will you force me to play the part of G.o.d?"

"I shall not marry."

"Ah, you will wait for G.o.d to make up the difference. It is well--very well; _le Dieu c'est moi_. Ha! That is greater than the phrase of Louis XIV. You shall have still more time, but the moment the sun goes down, if I do not hear from you, I shall ring a bell that will send my secret police out to seize a man indiscriminately from the ma.s.ses of the city.

I shall not even stipulate that he be young. My trust in nature is--absolute. _Adieu!_"

She made up her mind the moment he left the room. She drew on her cloak.

Before the pier gla.s.s she paused.

"Aye," she murmured, "I could not match the first farmer's daughter. But still there must be one man in the world--and G.o.d will make up the difference!"

She threw open the door which gave on a pa.s.sage leading to a side entrance. A grenadier of the palace guard jumped to attention and presented arms.

"Pardon," he said.

He completely blocked the hall; the prince had left nothing to chance.

She started to turn back and then hesitated and regarded the man carefully.

"Fritz!" she said at last, for she recognized the peasant who had been a stable-boy on her father's estate before he took service in the grenadiers. "You are Fritz Barr!"

He flushed with pleasure.

"_Madame_ remembers me?"

"And my little black pony you used to take care of?"

"Yes, yes!"

He grinned and nodded; and then she noted a revolver in the holster at his side.

"What are your orders, Fritz?"

"To let no one pa.s.s down this hall. I am sorry, _madame_."

"But if I were to ask you for your revolver?"

He stirred uneasily and she took money from her purse and gave it to him.

"With this you could procure another weapon?"

He drew a long breath; the temptation was great.

"I could, _madame_."

"Then do so. It will never be known from whom I received the gun--and my need is desperate--desperate!"

He unbuckled the weapon without a word, and with it in her hand she returned to the room.

There was a tall western window, and before this she drew up a chair to watch the setting of the sun.

"Will he ring the bell when the edge of the sun touches the hills or when it is completely set?" she thought.

The white circle grew yellow; then it took on a taint of orange, bulging oddly at the sides into a clumsy oval. From the gardens below came a stir of voices and then the thrill of a girl's laughter. She smiled as she listened, and, leaning from the window, the west wind blew to her the scent of flowers. She sat there for a long time, breathing deeply of the fragrance and noting all the curves of the lawn with a still, sad pleasure. The green changed from bright to dark; when she looked up the sun had set.

As she turned from the gay western sky, the room was doubly dim and the breeze of the evening set the curtains rustling and whispering. Silence she was prepared for, but not those ghostly voices, not the shift and sweep of the shadows. She turned the electric switch, closing her eyes to blur the shock of the sudden deluge of light. The switch clicked, but when she opened her eyes the room was still dark; they had cut the connecting wires.

Thereafter her mind went mercifully blank, for what she faced was, like birth and death, beyond comprehension. Noise at the windows roused her from the daze at last and she found that a number of workmen were sealing the room so that neither light nor sound could enter or escape.

The only air would be from the ventilator. And still she could not realize what had happened, what was to happen, until the last sounds of the workmen ceased and the deep, dread silence began; silence that had a pulse in it--the beating of her heart.

She was standing in the middle of the room when the first shapes formed in the black night, and terror hovered about her suddenly, touching her as with cold fingers. She felt her way back to a corner and crouched there against the wall, waiting, waiting. They had seized the doomed man long before this. They must have bound and gagged him and carried him to the palace.

A thousand types of men pa.s.sed before her inward eye--thin-faced clerks, men as pale as the belly of a dead fish; bearded monsters, gross and thick-lipped, with thunderous laughter; laborers, stamped with patient weariness--and all whom she saw carried the sign of the beast in their eyes. She tried to pray, but the voice of the prince rang in her ears: "_Le Dieu, c'est moi!_" and when she named G.o.d in her prayers, she visualized Alexander's face, the pale, small eyes, the colorless hair, the lofty brow, the mouth whose tight lips could not be disguised by even the careful mustache. When a key turned in a door, she sprang to her feet with a cry of horror.

"It is I," said the prince.

"I am dying; I cannot stay here; I will marry whom and when you will."

"Ah, my dear, you should have spoken before sunset. I warned you, and I never change my mind. It is only for three days, remember. Also, it is in the interest of science. Beyond that, I have quite taken a fancy to playing G.o.d for you for three days. Do you understand?"

The even, mocking tones guided her to him. She fell at his feet and strained his thin knees against her breast.

"Come! Be reasonable, Bertha. This is justice."

"Sire, I want no justice. For G.o.d's sake, be merciful."

She heard the shaken breath of his soundless laughter.

"Is it so? You should be grateful to me. Trust me, child, I am bringing you the love of which you have dreamed. Ha! Ha! _Le Dieu, c'est moi!_"

The clanking of the chain which he carried stilled her voice. It hushed even the thunder of her heart. She rose and waited patiently while the manacle was affixed to her wrist. The prince crossed the room and tapped on the door, which opened, and by a faint light from without Bertha discovered two men carrying a third into the room. She strained her eyes, but could make out no faces. The burden was laid on the floor; a metallic sound told her that she was fettered to the unknown.

The prince said: "You are a brave girl. All may yet be well. Then human nature is finer than I think. We shall see. As for your lover, your gift from G.o.d, he is sleeping soundly now. It may be an hour before the effects of the drug wear away. During that time you can think of love.

Food will be placed three times a day within the door yonder. You can readily find it by feeling your way around the wall. Farewell."

When the door closed she started to retreat to her corner, but the chain instantly drew taut with a rattle. Strangely enough, much of her fear left her now that she was face to face with the danger; temptation, the prince had called it. She smiled as she remembered. When the man awoke and learned their situation, she had no doubt as to how he would act.