The Chief Justice Part 20

The shadows of the dusk had fallen upon the streets as the cab drove out of the station, the lamps' red glimmer was visible through the damp evening mist that had followed upon the sunny day. Sendlingen leant back in the cus.h.i.+ons and closed his eyes to continue his dream; he did not notice what an unusual stir there was in the streets. It was as if the whole population was making its way to the heart of the city; the vehicles moved in long rows, the pedestrians streamed along in dense ma.s.ses. There was no shouting, no loud word, but the murmur of the thousands, excitedly tramping along, was joined to a strange hollow buzz that floated unceasingly in the air, and grew stronger and stronger as the carriage neared the centre of the town. More and more police were visible, and at the Glacis there was even a battalion at attention, ready for attack at a moment's notice.

Even this Sendlingen did not notice, it hardly entered his mind that the cab was driving much more slowly than usual. That picture of his brain was still before him and hope had visited his heart again. "Courage!" he whispered to himself. "One night more of this torment--and then she is saved! He is the only human being who can help us, and he will help us."

His cab had at length made way through the crowd that poured in an ever denser throng across the Stefansplatz and up the Graben towards the Imperial Palace--and it was able to turn into the Kartnerstra.s.se. It drew up before the hotel. The hall-porters darted out and helped Sendlingen to alight, the proprietor himself hurried forward and bowed low when he recognised him.

"His Lords.h.i.+p, the Chief Justice!" he cried. "Rooms 7 and 8. What does your Lords.h.i.+p say to this calamity? It has quite dazed me!"

"What has happened?" asked Sendlingen.

"Your Lords.h.i.+p does not know?" cried the landlord in amazement. "That is almost impossible! A journey-man tailor from Hungary, Johann Libenyi, attempted His Majesty's life to-day at the Glacis. The dagger of the miscreant struck the Emperor in the neck. His Majesty is severely wounded, if it had not been for the presence of mind of the butcher, Ettenreich----"

He stopped abruptly, "What is the matter?" he cried darting towards Sendlingen.

Sendlingen tottered, and but for his help would have fallen to the ground.

CHAPTER XIII.

On the evening of the next day Count Karolberg, Sendlingen's brother-in-law, entered his room at the hotel. "Well, here you are at last!" he cried, still in the door-way. "Is this the way to go on after a bad attack of the heart on the evening before? Three times to-day have I tried to get hold of you, the first time at nine in the morning and you had already gone out."

"Thank you very much!" replied Sendlingen. "My anxiety for authentic news about the Emperor's condition, drove me out of doors betimes, and so I went to the Imperial Chancellery as early as was seemly. But I only learnt what is in all the papers: that there was no danger of his life, but that he would need quite three weeks of absolute rest to bring about his complete recovery. Meanwhile the Cabinet is to see to all current affairs: the sovereign authority of the Emperor is suspended, and none of the princes of the blood are to act as Regent during the illness."

"But you surely did not inquire about that?" cried Count Karolberg in astonishment. "That goes without saying."

"Goes without saying!" muttered Sendlingen, and for a moment his self-command left him and his features became so listless and gloomy that his brother-in-law looked at him much concerned.

"Victor!" he said, "you are really ill! You must see Oppolzer to-morrow."

"I cannot. I must go back to Bolosch to-night. I require two days at least, to arrange the surrender of matters to my successor. But then I shall come back here at once."

"Good! You are going to spend the week before entering on your new position here; the Minister of Justice has just told me. It was very prudent of you to visit him at once."

"It was only fitting that I should," said Sendlingen. Alas! not from any motives of fitness or prudence had he gone to the Minister of Justice; it was despair that drove him there after the information he got at the Chancellery, a remnant of a hope that by his help, he might at least attain the postponement of the execution till the Emperor was better again.

Not until he was in the Minister's ante-room, and had already been announced, did he recover his senses and recognise that the Minister could as little command a postponement as he himself, and so he kept silence. "He was very friendly to me!" he added aloud.

"He is completely reconciled to you," Count Karolberg eagerly corroborated. "He spoke to me of your ill-health with the sincerest sympathy, and told me that you had hinted at not accepting the post at Pfalicz but contemplated retiring. I hope that is far from being your resolve! If you require a lengthy cure somewhere in the South, leave of absence would be sufficient. How could you have the heart to renounce a career that smiles upon you as yours does?"

"Of, course," replied Sendlingen, "I shall consider the subject thoroughly." He then asked to be excused for a minute in order to write a telegram to Bolosch.

He sat down at the writing-table. He found the few words needed hard to choose. He crossed them out and altered them again and again--it was the first lie that that hand had ever set down.

At length he had finished. The telegram read as follows:

"George Berger, Bolosch. End desired as good as attained. Have procured postponement till recovery of decisive arbiter. Return to-morrow comforted. Victor."

He then drove with Count Karolberg to his house and spent the evening there in the circle of his relations. He was quiet and cheerful at he used to be, and when he took his leave of the lady of the house to go to the station, he jokingly invited himself to dinner on the 22d of February.

The weather had completely changed, since the morning heavy snow had fallen: the Bolosch train had to wait a long time at the next station till the snow-ploughs had cleared the line, and it was not till late next morning that it reached its destination. Sendlingen was deeply moved that, notwithstanding, the first face he saw on getting out of the train, was that of his faithful friend. And at the same time it frightened him: for how could he look him in the face?

But in his impetuous joy, Berger did not observe how Sendlingen shrank at his gaze. "At last!" he cried, embracing him, and with moistened eyes, he pressed his hand, incapable of uttering a word.

"Thank you!" said Sendlingen in an uncertain voice. "It--it came upon you as a surprise?"

"You may imagine that!" cried Berger. "Soon after your departure, I heard the news of the attempt on the Emperor's life. I thought all was lost and was about to hurry to you when your telegram came. And then, picture my delight! I sent for Franz--the old man was mad with joy!"

They had come out to the front of the station and had got into Berger's sleigh. "To my house!" he called to the driver!

"What are you thinking of?" asked Sendlingen.

"You forget that you have no longer a habitable home!" cried Berger.

"There is such a veritable hurly-burly at the residence, that even Franz hardly knows his way about--where do you mean to stay?"

"At the Hofmann Hotel," replied Sendlingen. "I have already commissioned Franz to take rooms there. It is impossible for me to stay with you, George. Please do not press me. I cannot do it."

Berger looked at him astonished. "But why not? And how tragically it affects you? To the Hofmann Hotel!" he now ordered the driver. "But now tell me everything," he begged, when the sleigh had altered its direction. "Who granted you the postponement?"

"The Archduke Ferdinand Maximilian," replied Sendlingen quickly, "the Emperor's eldest brother. I had an interview with him yesterday. The order to Werner to postpone the execution, should be here by the day after to-morrow. For my own part, I shall stay in Vienna until the Emperor has recovered. The Archduke himself could not give a final decision."

"Once more my heartiest congratulations!" cried Berger. "I will faithfully watch over Victorine till you return. And now as to other things. Do you know whom this concerns?" He pointed to some bundles of fir-branches that were being unloaded at several houses. Here and there, too, some black and yellow, or black, red and yellow flags were being hung out. "You, Victor. The whole of Bolosch is preparing itself for to-morrow, it will be such a fete as the town has not seen for a long time. The Committee has done nothing either about the decorations or the illuminations. Both are spontaneous, and done without any preconcerted arrangement."

"This must not take place!" cried Sendlingen impatiently. "I cannot allow it! It would rend my heart!"

"I understand you," said Berger. "But in for a penny etc. Besides your heart may be easier now, than at the time you agreed to accept the torch-light procession and the banquet. Do not spoil these good people's pleasure, they have honorably earned your countenance. Every third man in Bolosch is inconsolable to-day because there are no more tickets left for the banquet, although we have hired the biggest room in the place, the one in the town-hall. The only compensation that we could offer them, was the modest pleasure of carrying a torch in your honour and at the same time burning a few holes in their Sunday clothes. Notwithstanding, torches have since yesterday become the subject of some very swindling jobbery."

In this manner he gossiped away cheerfully until the sleigh drew up at the hotel. Herr Hofmann, the landlord, was almost speechless with pleasure. "What an honour," stammered the fat man, his broad features colouring a sort of purple-red. "Your Lords.h.i.+p is going to receive the procession on my balcony?"

"Yes indeed," sighed Berger, "and it is I who got you this honour!" He drove away, promising to send Franz who was waiting at his house.

After a short interval Franz appeared at the hotel; his face beamed as he entered his master's room, and a few minutes later, when he came out again, it was pale and distorted and his eyes seemed blinded; the old man was reeling like a drunkard as he went back to Berger's house to fetch the trunks to the hotel.

Without making good his lost night's rest, Sendlingen betook himself to his Chambers. Herr von Werner was already waiting for him; they at once went to their task and began with the business of the Civil Court. It was not difficult work, but it consumed much time, especially as Werner in accordance with his usual custom would not dispatch the most insignificant thing by word of mouth. Seldom can any mortal have written his signature with the same pleasure as he to-day signed: "von Werner, Chief Justice."

Sendlingen held out patiently, without a sign of discomposure, "like a lamb for the sacrifice" thought Baron Dernegg who was a.s.sisting with the transfer. They only interrupted their work to take a scanty meal in Chambers; twice, moreover, Franz sent for his master to make a brief communication. At length, about ten at night, the work was done. For the next day, when the affairs of the Criminal Court were to be disposed of, Werner promised to be more brief. "You had better, if you value your life," cried Dernegg laughing. "The Citizens of Bolosch won't be made fools of. Woe to you if you don't release the hero of to-morrow's fete in good time!"

Sendlingen went to Berger who had now been waiting for him several hours with increasing impatience. "I shall never forgive Herr von Werner this!" he swore as they sat down to their belated meal. "And it is the last evening in which I shall have you to myself! Franz told me that you were going to Vienna by the express at four in the morning, Why will you not take a proper rest after the excitement of the fete?

You had better go the day after to-morrow by the midday train."

"I cannot," replied Sendlingen. "The Minister of Justice has asked me to attend an important conference the day after to-morrow, and therefore I am even thinking of going by the mail-train to-morrow. It starts shortly after midnight and----"

"That is quite impossible!" interrupted Berger. "Just consider, the procession takes place between eight and nine, the banquet begins at ten, it will be eleven before the first speeches are made--then you are to reply in all speed, rush out, hurry to the hotel, change your clothes, fly to the station----Why, it is quite impossible, and the people would be justly offended if you fled from the feast in an hour's time as if it were a torment!"

"And so it is!" cried Sendlingen. "When you consider what my feelings are likely to be at leaving Bolosch, then you will certainly not try to stop me, but will rather help me, so that the torment be not too long drawn out."

Berger shrugged his shoulders. "You always get your own way!" he said.