The Game and the Candle Part 23

"Eleven o'clock, sire."

"You need not go when the Grand Duke arrives; I may want you afterward.

Allard--"

"Sire?"

"I have been kind to you, if to no one else, I think. Kind, and constant. Perhaps I have guarded you from more pitfalls set by envy than you can conceive, or would credit. And you have served me, not Feodor or another. If you were forced to the choice now, would you follow the Regent or me?"

The question could not have been more unexpected or more difficult.

Allard caught his breath, utterly at a loss. Deceive Adrian he would not. To forsake Stanief even in appearance was not to be considered, and yet to exasperate the jealous and exacting Emperor still further against his cousin was bitterly unnecessary.

"Sire--"

"Go on."

But he could not go on, his ideas in hopeless confusion.

"I am waiting."

"Sire, the Regent," he admitted with desperate candor.

Adrian laid his pencil carefully on the map and closed the atlas, saying nothing at all. Allard flushed to the roots of his fair hair.

"Not that I am ungrateful," he protested in hot distress. "Not that I do not remember, do not understand all that you have done for me, sire. And against you I would serve no one, not even him. I would hold my life a slight thing to give either of you. Sire," he took a step forward, his ardent gaze seeking the other's comprehension, "before the brother I loved, the woman I love, before any call, I would follow the Regent.

He--I have no words for it. It is not that my loyalty to your Majesty is less, but that he claims me against the world."

"Happy Feodor," said Adrian coolly. "Do not distress yourself, Allard; if you had told me anything else I should not have believed you. Why,"

he suddenly lifted to the amazed American a glance all cordial, "it is pleasant to find that loyalty to any one still exists, to find one rock in this shaking quagmire. Here is the Regent; go down the room and find a book to read until we finish."

Dazed, Allard mechanically obeyed so far as to move down the apartment and pick up a book. But keen anxiety for the friend he could not aid kept his attention on the interview that followed, although it was beyond his hearing.

Stanief crossed to his ward with the dignified formality never relaxed between them, and bent over the offered hand. No shade of expression foretold the announcement both knew he was come to make, nor was Adrian on his part less impa.s.sive. The petulant boy of two years before had become a slim, self-contained youth, whose bearing, no less than his elaborate uniform, added much to his apparent age and height. If his dark young face did not resemble his cousin's except in feature, the difference was not in lack of equal firmness.

"Iria did not come to-day?" was the nonchalant greeting.

"No, sire. She was fatigued after last night's reception, and we did not understand your desire."

"Oh, I expressed none, except as it is always pleasant to see her.

Madame was adorable last night, a very flower of her delicious South. It occurred to me that you yourself, cousin, did not appear to feel so well as usual."

"I was tired, sire," he replied simply.

Adrian frowned with some other emotion than anger, darting a swift regard at Stanief, who leaned back in his chair with a listlessness rare indeed in him. The Regent also had changed in the last two years; one does not mold a chaotic, struggling ma.s.s of conflicting elements into a ball to match the scepter without paying a price. Yet if the habit of command had curved a little more firmly the firm lips, if deep thoughts and watchful diplomacy had darkened calmness to gravity, some other and subtler influences had brought a singular underlying gentleness to his expression and kept hardness at bay. Adrian turned away his head half-impatiently, and did not speak at once.

"You devote too close an attention to state affairs, cousin," he rejoined. "Next year we will relieve you of them."

The accent was more than the words; together they brought Stanief's color.

"I shall resign my charge most willingly, sire," he answered, with dignity.

"I am glad to hear it; I fancied you might miss the regal game and find life monotonous. You have taken the task so completely from my hands that it causes no surprise to find you are wearied. I admit that you have spared me even the fatigue of consulting my wishes or opinions in regard to the government."

"The accusation is hardly just, sire. A suggestion of yours has never been disregarded nor has it failed of its serious effect."

"Ah?" drawled Adrian, with his most aggravating incredulity in the inflection.

Stanief raised his lashes and met the other's eyes steadfastly. Both comprehended the situation perfectly, comprehended the imminent break Adrian was forcing. And the Emperor did not soon forget the direct sorrow and reproach of that glance. But Stanief attempted no defense.

"Because," Adrian resumed, fixing his eyes on the table before him, "I have been told otherwise. I am rejoiced to learn the truth from you, cousin; especially as a rumor reached me this morning that a certain tax had been removed, against my wish. You doubtless know the measure of which I speak. I am glad to find it is not so."

"Pardon, sire; it is so," was the calm reply.

"The tax is removed?"

"Yes, sire."

The Adrian of two years before would have burst into furious pa.s.sion; the one of to-day simply rose and walked to the nearest window. Stanief necessarily rose also, and stood by his chair, waiting. At the opposite end of the room Allard clenched his hands in helpless nervousness, forgetting to keep his pretense of reading. The low voices, the leisurely movements of the two, had not masked from him the crisis for the hopes and plans of years.

But Adrian made no scene. Probably no one realized less than the Regent himself how much the example of his own self-control had taught the same quality to his ward. When the young Emperor came back, only his extreme pallor betrayed the tempest within.

"Very well," he said resolutely. "Amuse yourself, my cousin; I can wait. Eleven months, is it not?"

The break, and the menace. Stanief saluted him quietly.

"A trifle less than eleven months, sire. May I a.s.sume your Imperial Majesty's permission to retire? I suppose it is scarcely worth while to reiterate the arguments as to the necessity of my action."

"Scarcely. Do not let me detain you from your many affairs, cousin. Ah, I believe Dalmorov is waiting out there; let me tax your courtesy so far as to ask you to send him to me."

He extended his hand carelessly; no longer as a sign of friendliness, but as a compulsion of homage.

"It is for you to command, sire," was Stanief's proudly unmoved response.

Adrian looked down at the bent head and put out his left hand in rapid, curious gesture, almost as if to touch caressingly the heavy ripples of dark hair,--the merest abortive movement, for the hand fell again at his side before even Allard saw.

"Thank you," he acknowledged composedly, and watched the other go.

Dalmorov entered presently, radiant with satisfaction, but Allard could have borne witness that the baron pa.s.sed no pleasant hour with his irritable and irritating master. Like the fleck of a lash Adrian's tongue touched each weakness and stung each exposed hope of the courtier three times his age, until even the distrait American found himself compelled to amus.e.m.e.nt.

Stanief did not ride home that morning with the cheerful Vasili and bored Rosal, who awaited him. As he came down the wide steps between the usual parting, obsequious crowds, a girl leaned from a victoria that stood in the place of his own carriage,--Iria, opposite her the pale young Countess Marya.

"Will you ride with me, monseigneur?" invited the Gentle Princess, with her deliciously confiding glance and smile. "We were on the promenade, and I thought perhaps you would have finished--"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Will you ride with me, Monseigneur?"]

A knot of early daffodils was tucked in her girdle, the spring breeze fluttered a bright strand of crinkled bronze against her brighter cheek; all the youth of the year was in the happy face she lifted to him.

Stanief paused with his foot on the step to look at her, many thoughts meeting in his drowsily-brilliant eyes.

"Thank you," he answered. "I wonder if you will ever come for me again, Iria, after I have finished here indeed."