We supped privately, and I dressed with care. Horses were put in for our
last short post of a few streets. We had suffered such wretched quarters
on the way that the German guest-house spread itself commodiously. Yet
its walls were the flimsiest slabs. I heard some animal scratching and
whining in the next chamber. On the post-road, however, we had not
always a wall betwixt ourselves and the dogs.
The palace in Mittau stood conspicuous upon an island in the river. As
we approached, it looked not unlike a copy of Versailles. The pile was
by no means brilliant with lights, as the court of a king might glitter,
finding reflection upon the stream. We drove with a clatter upon the
paving, and a sentinel challenged us.
I had thought of how I should obtain access to this secluded royal
family, and Skenedonk was ready with the queen's jewel-case in his
hands. Not on any account was he to let it go out of them until I took
it and applied the key; but gaining audience with Madame d'Angouleme, he
was to tell her that the bearer of that casket had traveled far to see
her, and waited outside.
Under guard the Oneida had the great doors shut behind him. The wisdom
of my plan looked less conspicuous as time went by. The palace loomed
silent, without any cheer of courtiers. The horses shook their straps,
and the postilion hung lazily by one leg, his figure distinct against
the low horizon still lighted by after-glow. Some Mittau noises came
across the Aa, the rumble of wheels, and a barking of dogs.
When apprehension began to pinch my heart of losing my servant and my
whole fortune in the abode of honest royal people, and I felt myself but
a poor outcast come to seek a princess for my sister, a guard stood by
the carriage, touching his cap, and asked me to follow him.
We ascended the broad steps. He gave the password to a sentinel there,
and held wide one leaf of the door. He took a candle; and otherwise dark
corridors and ante-chambers, somber with heavy Russian furnishings, rugs
hung against the walls, barbaric brazen vessels and curious vases,
passed like a half-seen vision.
Then the guard delivered me to a gentleman in a blue coat, with a red
collar, who belonged to the period of the Marquis du Plessy without
being adorned by his whiteness and lace. The gentleman staring at me,
strangely polite and full of suspicion, conducted me into a well-lighted
room where Skenedonk waited by the farther door, holding the jewel-case
as tenaciously as he would a scalp.
I entered the farther door. It closed behind me.
A girl stood in the center of this inner room, looking at me. I remember
none of its fittings, except that there was abundant light, showing her
clear blue eyes and fair hair, the transparency of her skin, and her
high expression. She was all in black, except a floating muslin cape or
fichu, making a beholder despise the finery of the Empire.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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