Pembroke and I passed down the broad stairs. On the street we walked a
block or so in silence.
Finally Pembroke said: "What the deuce made you step on my foot? And
why does she not want me to know that she was in Vienna last winter?"
"Because," said I, "Miss Landors never was in Vienna."
"But, man, my eyes!"
"I do not care anything about your eyes."
"What makes you so positive?"
"Knowledge."
"Do you love her?" bluntly.
"No."
"Because--?"
"There is another. Pembroke, to-night will be pregnant with
possibilities. You will see the woman you love and the woman I love."
"What do you mean?"
"Have you ever heard of her Serene Highness the Princess Hildegarde of
Hohenphalia?"
"So high?"
"Yes."
"Then the woman I saw in Vienna--"
"Was the Princess."
"But this remarkable likeness?"
"Perhaps I had best tell you all." And when I had done, his
astonishment knew no bounds.
"Great George, that makes Miss Landors a Princess, too!"
"It does, truly. Herein lies the evil of loving above one's station.
In our country love is like all things, free to obtain. We are in a
country which is not free. Here, those who appear to have the greatest
liberty have the least."
"And she knows nothing about it?"
"Nothing."
"Why tell her?" he asked, fearful of his own love affair now.
"It is a duty. Some day she might learn too late. This afternoon I
shall visit the Chancellor and place the matter before him and ask his
assistance. He must aid me to find the proofs."
Pembroke began kicking the snow with his toes.
"I wish you had not told me, Jack."
"It is for the best. You and I are in the same boat; we ride or sink
together."
At luncheon his mind was absent and he ate but little. And I ate less
than he. It was going to be very hard for me to meet Gretchen.
The Chancellor waved his hand toward a chair. We were very good
friends.
"What is it now?" he asked, smiling. "I dare not stir up the
antagonists against the government to give you a story, and aside from
the antagonists it is dull."
"I will find the story in the present instance," said I. And in the
fewest words possible I laid before him the object of my visit.
"This is a very strange story," he said, making a pyramid of his
fingers and contemplating the task with a careful air. "Are you not
letting your imagination run away with you?"
"Not for a moment. I ask you to attend the ball at the American
ministry this evening, and if the likeness between the two women does
not convince you, the matter shall drop, so far as I am concerned."
"Has Herr Wentworth any idea of the affair?"
"It is not possible. What would be his object in keeping it a secret?"
"Still, it is a grave matter, and without precedent. We must move
carefully. You understand that there was no knowledge of another
child, only rumor; and then it was believed to be an hallucination of
the mother, whose mind was not very strong."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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