There were several kings and their kindred at Carlsbad that summer. One day the d.u.c.h.ess of Orleans drove over from Marienbad, attended by the Duke on his bicycle. After luncheon, they reappeared for a moment before mounting to her carriage with their Secretaries: two young French gentlemen whose dress and bearing better satisfied Mrs. March"s exacting pa.s.sion for an aristocratic air in their order. The Duke was fat and fair, as a Bourbon should be, and the d.u.c.h.ess fatter, though not so fair, as became a Hapsburg, but they were both more plebeian-looking than their retainers, who were slender as well as young, and as perfectly appointed as English tailors could imagine them.
"It wouldn"t do for the very highest sort of Highhotes," March declared, "to look their own consequence personally; they have to leave that, like everything else, to their inferiors."
By a happy heterophemy of Mrs. March"s the German Hoheit had now become Highhote, which was so much more descriptive that they had permanently adopted it, and found comfort to their republican pride in the mockery which it poured upon the feudal structure of society. They applied it with a certain compunction, however, to the King of Servia, who came a few days after the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess: he was such a young King, and of such a little country. They watched for him from the windows of the reading-room, while the crowd outside stood six deep on the three sides of the square before the hotel, and the two plain public carriages which brought the King and his suite drew tamely up at the portal, where the proprietor and some civic dignitaries received him. His moderated approach, so little like that of royalty on the stage, to which Americans are used, allowed Mrs. March to make sure of the pale, slight, insignificant, amiable-looking youth in spectacles as the sovereign she was ambuscading. Then no appeal to her principles could keep her from peeping through the reading-room door into the rotunda, where the King graciously but speedily dismissed the civic gentlemen and the proprietor, and vanished into the elevator. She was destined to see him so often afterwards that she scarcely took the trouble to time her dining and supping by that of the simple potentate, who had his meals in one of the public rooms, with three gentlemen of his suite, in sack-coats like himself, after the informal manner of the place.
Still another potentate, who happened that summer to be sojourning abroad, in the interval of a successful rebellion, was at the opera one night with some of his faithful followers. Burnamy had offered Mrs.
March, who supposed that he merely wanted her and her husband with him, places in a box; but after she eagerly accepted, it seemed that he wished her to advise him whether it would do to ask Miss Triscoe and her father to join them.
"Why not?" she returned, with an arching of the eyebrows.
"Why," he said, "perhaps I had better make a clean breast of it."
"Perhaps you had," she said, and they both laughed, though he laughed with a knot between his eyes.
"The fact is, you know, this isn"t my treat, exactly. It"s Mr.
Stoller"s." At the surprise in her face he hurried on. "He"s got back his first letter in the paper, and he"s so much pleased with the way he reads in print, that he wants to celebrate."
"Yes," said Mrs. March, non-committally.
Burnamy laughed again. "But he"s bashful, and he isn"t sure that you would all take it in the right way. He wants you as friends of mine; and he hasn"t quite the courage to ask you himself."
This seemed to Mrs. March so far from bad that she said: "That"s very nice of him. Then he"s satisfied with--with your help? I"m glad of that."
"Thank you. He"s met the Triscoes, and he thought it would be pleasant to you if they went, too."
"Oh, certainly."
"He thought," Burnamy went on, with the air of feeling his way, "that we might all go to the opera, and then--then go for a little supper afterwards at Schwarzkopf"s."
He named the only place in Carlsbad where you can sup so late as ten o"clock; as the opera begins at six, and is over at half past eight, none but the wildest roisterers frequent the place.
"Oh!" said Mrs. March. "I don"t know how a late supper would agree with my husband"s cure. I should have to ask him."
"We could make it very hygienic," Burnamy explained.
In repeating his invitation she blamed Burnamy"s uncandor so much that March took his part, as perhaps she intended, and said, "Oh, nonsense,"
and that he should like to go in for the whole thing; and General Triscoe accepted as promptly for himself and his daughter. That made six people, Burnamy counted up, and he feigned a decent regret that there was not room for Mrs. Adding and her son; he would have liked to ask them.
Mrs. March did not enjoy it so much as coming with her husband alone when they took two florin seats in the orchestra for the comedy. The comedy always began half an hour earlier than the opera, and they had a five-o"clock supper at the Theatre-Cafe before they went, and they got to sleep by nine o"clock; now they would be up till half past ten at least, and that orgy at Schwarzkopf"s might not be at all good for him. But still she liked being there; and Miss Triscoe made her take the best seat; Burnamy and Stoller made the older men take the other seats beside the ladies, while they sat behind, or stood up, when they, wished to see, as people do in the back of a box. Stoller was not much at ease in evening dress, but he bore himself with a dignity which was not perhaps so gloomy as it looked; Mrs. March thought him handsome in his way, and required Miss Triscoe to admire him. As for Burnamy"s beauty it was not necessary to insist upon that; he had the distinction of slender youth; and she liked to think that no Highhote there was of a more patrician presence than this yet unprinted contributor to "Every Other Week". He and Stoller seemed on perfect terms; or else in his joy he was able to hide the uneasiness which she had fancied in him from the first time she saw them together, and which had never been quite absent from his manner in Stoller"s presence. Her husband always denied that it existed, or if it did that it was anything but Burnamy"s effort to get on common ground with an inferior whom fortune had put over him.
The young fellow talked with Stoller, and tried to bring him into the range of the general conversation. He leaned over the ladies, from time to time, and pointed out the notables whom he saw in the house; she was glad, for his sake, that he did not lean less over her than over Miss Triscoe. He explained certain military figures in the boxes opposite, and certain ladies of rank who did not look their rank; Miss Triscoe, to Mrs.
March"s thinking, looked their united ranks, and more; her dress was very simple, but of a touch which saved it from being insipidly girlish; her beauty was dazzling.
"Do you see that old fellow in the corner chair just behind the orchestra?" asked Burnamy. "He"s ninety-six years old, and he comes to the theatre every night, and falls asleep as soon as the curtain rises, and sleeps through till the end of the act."
"How dear!" said the girl, leaning forward to fix the nonagenarian with her gla.s.ses, while many other gla.s.ses converged upon her. "Oh, wouldn"t you like to know him, Mr. March?"
"I should consider it a liberal education. They have brought these things to a perfect system in Europe. There is nothing to make life pa.s.s smoothly like inflexible constancy to an entirely simple custom. My dear," he added to his wife, "I wish we"d seen this sage before. He"d have helped us through a good many hours of unintelligible comedy. I"m always coming as Burnamy"s guest, after this."
The young fellow swelled with pleasure in his triumph, and casting an eye about the theatre to cap it, he caught sight of that other potentate. He whispered joyfully, "Ah! We"ve got two kings here to-night," and he indicated in a box of their tier just across from that where the King of Servia sat, the well-known face of the King of New York.
"He isn"t bad-looking," said March, handing his gla.s.s to General Triscoe.
"I"ve not seen many kings in exile; a matter of a few Carlist princes and ex-sovereign dukes, and the good Henry V. of France, once, when I was staying a month in Venice; but I don"t think they any of them looked the part better. I suppose he has his dream of recurring power like the rest."
"Dream!" said General Triscoe with the gla.s.s at his eyes. "He"s dead sure of it."
"Oh, you don"t really mean that!"
"I don"t know why I should have changed my mind."
"Then it"s as if we were in the presence of Charles II. just before he was called back to England, or Napoleon in the last moments of Elba. It"s better than that. The thing is almost unique; it"s a new situation in history. Here"s a sovereign who has no recognized function, no legal status, no objective existence. He has no sort of public being, except in the affection of his subjects. It took an upheaval little short of an earthquake to unseat him. His rule, as we understand it, was bad for all cla.s.ses; the poor suffered more than the rich; the people have now had three years of self-government; and yet this wonderful man has such a hold upon the ma.s.ses that he is going home to win the cause of oppression at the head of the oppressed. When he"s in power again, he will be as subjective as ever, with the power of civic life and death, and an idolatrous following perfectly ruthless in the execution of his will."
"We"ve only begun," said the general. "This kind of king is munic.i.p.al, now; but he"s going to be national. And then, good-by, Republic!"
"The only thing like it," March resumed, too incredulous of the evil future to deny himself the aesthetic pleasure of the parallel, "is the rise of the Medici in Florence, but even the Medici were not mere manipulators of pulls; they had some sort of public office, with some sort of legislated tenure of it. The King of New York is sovereign by force of will alone, and he will reign in the voluntary submission of the majority. Is our national dictator to be of the same nature and quality?"
"It would be the scientific evolution, wouldn"t it?"
The ladies listened with the perfunctory attention which women pay to any sort of inquiry which is not personal. Stoller had scarcely spoken yet; he now startled them all by demanding, with a sort of vindictive force, "Why shouldn"t he have the power, if they"re willing to let him?"
"Yes," said General Triscoe, with a tilt of his head towards March.
"That"s what we must ask ourselves more and more."
March leaned back in his chair, and looked up over his shoulder at Stoller. "Well, I don"t know. Do you think it"s quite right for a man to use an unjust power, even if others are willing that he should?"
Stoller stopped with an air of bewilderment as if surprised on the point of saying that he thought just this. He asked instead, "What"s wrong about it?"
"Well, that"s one of those things that have to be felt, I suppose. But if a man came to you, and offered to be your slave for a certain consideration--say a comfortable house, and a steady job, that wasn"t too hard--should you feel it morally right to accept the offer? I don"t say think it right, for there might be a kind of logic for it."
Stoller seemed about to answer; he hesitated; and before he had made any response, the curtain rose.
x.x.xIV.
There are few prettier things than Carlsbad by night from one of the many bridges which span the Tepl in its course through the town. If it is a starry night, the torrent glides swiftly away with an inverted firmament in its bosom, to which the lamps along its sh.o.r.es and in the houses on either side contribute a planetary splendor of their own. By nine o"clock everything is hushed; not a wheel is heard at that dead hour; the few feet shuffling stealthily through the Alte Wiese whisper a caution of silence to those issuing with a less guarded tread from the opera; the little bowers that overhang the stream are as dark and mute as the restaurants across the way which serve meals in them by day; the whole place is as forsaken as other cities at midnight. People get quickly home to bed, or if they have a mind to s.n.a.t.c.h a belated joy, they slip into the Theater-Cafe, where the sleepy Frauleins serve them, in an exemplary drowse, with plates of cold ham and bottles of the gently gaseous waters of Giesshubl. Few are of the bold badness which delights in a supper at Schwarzkopf"s, and even these are glad of the drawn curtains which hide their orgy from the chance pa.s.ser.
The invalids of Burnamy"s party kept together, strengthening themselves in a mutual purpose not to be tempted to eat anything which was not strictly "kurgema.s.s". Mrs. March played upon the interest which each of them felt in his own case so artfully that she kept them talking of their cure, and left Burnamy and Miss Triscoe to a moment on the bridge, by which they profited, while the others strolled on, to lean against the parapet and watch the lights in the skies and the water, and be alone together. The stream shone above and below, and found its way out of and into the darkness under the successive bridges; the town climbed into the night with lamp-lit windows here and there, till the woods of the hill-sides darkened down to meet it, and fold it in an embrace from which some white edifice showed palely in the farthest gloom.
He tried to make her think they could see that great iron crucifix which watches over it day and night from its piny cliff. He had a fancy for a poem, very impressionistic, which should convey the notion of the crucifix"s vigil. He submitted it to her; and they remained talking till the others had got out of sight and hearing; and she was letting him keep the hand on her arm which he had put there to hold her from falling over the parapet, when they were both startled by approaching steps, and a voice calling, "Look here! Who"s running this supper party, anyway?"
His wife had detached March from her group for the mission, as soon as she felt that the young people were abusing her kindness. They answered him with hysterical laughter, and Burnamy said, "Why, it"s Mr. Stoller"s treat, you know."
At the restaurant, where the proprietor obsequiously met the party on the threshold and bowed them into a pretty inner room, with a table set for their supper, Stoller had gained courage to play the host openly. He appointed General Triscoe to the chief seat; he would have put his daughter next to him, if the girl had not insisted upon Mrs. March"s having the place, and going herself to sit next to March, whom she said she had not been able to speak a word to the whole evening. But she did not talk a great deal to him; he smiled to find how soon he dropped out of the conversation, and Burnamy, from his greater remoteness across the table, dropped into it. He really preferred the study of Stoller, whose instinct of a greater worldly quality in the Triscoes interested him; he could see him listening now to what General Triscoe was saying to Mrs.
March, and now to what Burnamy was saying to Miss Triscoe; his strong, selfish face, as he turned it on the young people, expressed a mingled grudge and greed that was very curious.
Stoller"s courage, which had come and gone at moments throughout, rose at the end, and while they lingered at the table well on to the hour of ten, he said, in the sort of helpless offence he had with Burnamy, "What"s the reason we can"t all go out tomorrow to that old castle you was talking about?"