But later he found his place carefully appointed in all the occurrences of the day, and realized the forethought with a grat.i.tude and sense of obligation harder to bear than neglect. Very difficult Adrian was making his determination to follow Stanief; Allard knew now the pain of serving two masters.
The morning proceeded, the events pacing on in dignified order. At noon fell a pause, city and court poised on tiptoe, and the magnificent procession moved from the palace toward the cathedral.
It was all of mirage-like unsubstantiality to Allard: Adrian, strangely young and collected in his superb medieval robes, surrounded by his glittering n.o.bles; Stanief, hardly less dazzling than the Emperor, with gemmed orders and cordons under which his white uniform almost disappeared; Iria in her fairy royalty, these were the central figures of the pageant. The cheering crowds, the excitement and clamor, were merely a background. But once he met Dalmorov"s cruel, exultant eyes as the baron smiled across the unconscious Stanief, and there was no more beauty in the scene.
At last the dim richness of the cathedral received them, the cool, incense-freighted twilight of the vast building, the wilderness of columns and lofty jeweled windows. Here the throng of witnesses was hushed, the organ tones fell soothingly after the noisy streets. The atmosphere of the place was infinite calm, and each ancient stone cried alike to victor and vanquished its garnered wisdom: "This, too, shall pa.s.s away."
Sighing, Allard sank pa.s.sively into contemplation of the spectacle, Vasili by his side. Many times he had visited the cathedral with the Emperor, never again would he see it like this.
For all its pomp and solemnity, the ceremony was not long. When at last Adrian turned to face them, fully invested, when church and city rocked with acclamation, Allard felt the first thrill of realization of what this meant. And he knew there was nothing the new sovereign could not do.
"What is the matter?" questioned Vasili. "Why are you so sober; why are you so still? Oh, you English, cold as a stone!"
But Allard did not hear, he was watching the next act in the splendid drama, when, as former Regent and first kinsman of the Emperor, Stanief moved forward to offer his homage.
"Not here," Allard implored mutely, his eyes on the golden central figure, his hands clenched with nervous dread for the one he loved.
"Surely, surely not even Adrian will hurt him here, before these!"
Perhaps the thought of just how humiliating this could be made was also present in Stanief"s mind, perhaps some deeper emotion, for there was no trace of color in his firm dark face. Intent, breathless, the church looked on at the meeting, an audience of courtiers and diplomats whom no slightest detail escaped. In her place Iria laid one hand above her heart where, under velvet and satin, the tiny Spanish cross still rested.
It was over very briefly. As Stanief would have sunk to his knee, Adrian made a quick step forward and prevented the movement.
"Not to me, my cousin," he said quietly. "Not now, at least." And he embraced the other with a touch that lifted the formality to a caress.
The great ma.s.s of people remained absolutely still. One would have said there was not a breath drawn or a garment rustled. Stanief himself faltered, shaken out of his stoicism and flushing heavily; it was a perceptible moment before he recovered and carried on his role.
"_Nom de Dieu!_" gasped Vasili faintly, clutching his companion"s sleeve. "You saw, Allard, you saw?"
Allard saw. He saw Stanief"s oath of allegiance given and received, he saw the second embrace which welcomed it; he heard the Emperor"s graceful speech of thanks for the long service completed now. But no one except Stanief himself caught the murmured answer to the quaint, earnest phrases of feudal loyalty:
"For the second time, Feodor."
And to the listener the cathedral faded momentarily at the reminder; the rose-hued salon of the _Nadeja_ closed around.
The rest of the affair pa.s.sed more rapidly. Adrian took Iria"s hands as she came to him and kissed her on both cheeks. After that the others came and went, the superb swirl and current rushed on. Once only the eyes of Allard and Stanief met across the broad s.p.a.ce, and if they exchanged wordless relief, they held no other feeling in common, for Stanief had never trusted nor understood his cousin less, while Allard had refound the Adrian he knew--the Adrian of evening drives and bitter-sweet kindness.
In the departure from the cathedral there came a brief confusion and rearrangement.
"You will ride with me," Adrian said to his late Regent, on the steps.
"Sire--"
"Take care; I am too new an autocrat for contradiction."
So Iria went surrounded by her b.u.t.terfly ladies, and Stanief rode by the Emperor"s side during that bewildering return.
In the streets there was no high-bred reserve; seeing him there, the capital went into a madness of enthusiasm.
The rest of the day, the state banquet, pa.s.sed in no less dazzling excitement. But in the midst of all Adrian found an instant to toss a word to Allard.
"Is it "almost," or quite, to-day?" he demanded.
Happy, dazed, uncomprehending yet content, Allard met the challenging eyes in an expressive glance; then for the first time in their years together, he impulsively stooped and touched his lips to the slim young hand.
"Not at all, sire," he answered most remorsefully.
Adrian"s long l.u.s.trous eyes opened; perhaps no conquest of the day pleased him more.
"Come to me at five o"clock," he directed, and pa.s.sed on.
Five o"clock. That hour had been generally accepted through the palace as the time when the Emperor would withdraw to s.n.a.t.c.h a brief rest before the celebrations of the night. From long custom Allard knew where the "come to me" signified, and very pleasant he found his return to the familiar routine. Somewhat before the time appointed, he went to the octagonal library, the room now flooded with quivering pink light from the approaching sunset.
A man turned from a window at his entrance.
"Ah, Monsieur Allard?" said Dalmorov"s thin, cutting voice, "Pardon that I disturb you, dear monsieur, but the Emperor requested me to meet him here, and so--"
Allard surveyed the lean and suave diplomat with his usual antagonism, but moved toward a chair instead of adopting the hint to retire.
"I am here for the same reason, Baron," he explained. "A wonderful day we have had, have we not?"
"Wonderful, indeed," Dalmorov conceded viciously. "But the ides of March have not gone, monsieur."
"What a suggestion for our young Caesar!" Allard deprecated. "Whom do you imagine as Brutus, Baron, in our peaceful Empire?"
"You misunderstood; I only pointed out the uncertainty of building upon one day."
Anxiety for Stanief stabbed Allard, always and only for Stanief. Yet his answer was light and sympathetic:
"Has to-day disappointed you? So sorry, _cher_ Baron."
"No, monsieur; for the event of the day I shall most enjoy is just about to take place."
"And my presence threatens to postpone it? It is too bad I can not do as you suggested, and leave."
"Not at all; it will increase my pleasure to have you here, Monsieur Allard. Meanwhile, the favor of princes is uncertain, and a frail shield."
Again that coldly triumphant glance, the tightening of the lines about the thin lips. Wilfully Allard misapplied the last sentence.
"Oh, if my poor influence with the Emperor can aid you, Baron! You know how I esteem you."
The click of the lock prevented the exasperated Dalmorov"s retort.
Stanief held open the door, then followed Adrian into the room. There was no distinction of rank in the surprise with which the three men looked at one another, and from one another to the Emperor who had brought them together. A thrill of startled expectation ran from each to the other like a thread of flame.
Adrian without his m.u.f.fling draperies of cloth-of-gold was again the well-known figure of every-day. Yet there was some subtle difference in his bearing, in the carriage of his small head, which left no doubt that the ceremony of the morning had been very real. It was characteristic that he went to his object without preamble or delay.
"Feodor," he said as he moved to the large central table, and the languid sweetness of his accent was a sufficient warning of danger to those who knew him, "it is unfortunate to be forced to mingle serious affairs with a day already so full, but Baron Dalmorov urges so vigorously the necessity for readjusting the government that I have consented. You will hardly believe that his anxiety leaves neither of us an hour"s repose. Will you a.s.sist us in this task?"
"If I can, sire," Stanief answered gravely. The kitten was playing with the mice; too well had the Regent learned his deceptive ward for him to draw confidence from the Emperor"s courtesy during the day.