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The Master Mummer, a novel by E. Phillips Oppenheim |
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Book 2 - Chapter 11 |
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_ BOOK II CHAPTER XI Isobel, her chair drawn a little behind the curtain, was almost invisible from the house. With both hands she held the cluster of pink roses which she had found upon the seat. Gravely, but with wonderful self-composure, she followed the action of the play with an intentness which never faltered. Occasionally she leaned a little forward, and at such moments her profile passed the droop of the curtain, and was visible to the greater part of the audience. It was immediately after one of such movements that I noticed some commotion amongst the occupants of the box opposite to us. Their attention seemed suddenly drawn towards Isobel--two sets of opera-glasses were steadily levelled at her. A woman, whose neck and arms were ablaze with diamonds, raised her lorgnettes, and, regardless of the progress of the play, kept them fixed in our direction. I changed my position to obtain a better view of these people, and immediately I understood. I saw the house now for the first time, and I saw something which pleased me very little. We were immediately opposite the Royal box, which, with the one adjoining, was occupied by a very brilliant little party. The Archduchess was there. It was she whose lorgnettes were still unfalteringly directed towards Isobel. Lady Delahaye sat in the background, and a greater personage than either occupied the chair next to the Archduchess. Soon I saw that they were all whispering together, all still looking from Isobel towards the stage, and from the stage to Isobel; and in the background was a man whose coat was covered with orders, and who held himself like a soldier. He looked at Isobel as one might look at a ghost. I stood back almost hidden in the shadows, and I wondered more than ever what the end of all these things might be. Towards the close of the act that wonderful voice, with its low burden of sorrow so marvellously controlled, drew me against my will to the front of the box. He stood there with outstretched arms, the prototype of all pathos, and the low words, drawn as it were against his will from his tremulous lips, kept the whole house breathless. His arms dropped to his side, the curtain commenced to fall. In that moment his eyes, suddenly uplifted, met mine. It seemed to me that they were charged with meaning, and I read their message rightly. After all, though, I am not sure that I needed any warning. The curtain fell. There was twenty minutes' interval. Isobel sat back in her chair, and her hand lingered lovingly about the roses which lay upon her lap. I did not speak to her. I knew that she was living in a little world of her own, into which any ordinary intrusion was almost sacrilege. Arthur and Allan had left their places. I judged rightly that they had gone home. So I sat by myself, and waited for what I knew was sure to happen. And presently it came--the knock at the box door for which I had been listening. I rose and opened it. A tall young Englishman, with smooth parted hair, whose evening attire was so immaculate as to become almost an offence, stood and stared at me through his eyeglass. "Mr. Greatson!" he suggested. "Mr. Arnold Greatson?" I acknowledged the fact with becoming meekness. "My name is Milton," he said--"Captain Angus Milton. I am in the suite of the Archduchess for this evening. Her Highness occupies the box opposite to yours." I bowed. "I have noticed the fact," I answered. "The Archduchess has been good enough to favour us with some attention." The young man stared at me for some moments. I found myself able to endure his scrutiny. "Her Highness desires that you and the young lady"--for the first time he bowed towards Isobel--"will be so good as to come to the anteroom of the Royal box. She is anxious for a few minutes' conversation with you." "The Archduchess," I answered, "does us too much honour! I shall be glad, however, if you will inform her that we will take another opportunity of waiting upon her. Miss de Sorrens is much interested in the play." The young man dropped his eyeglass. I was proud of the fact that I had succeeded in surprising him. "You mean," he exclaimed softly, "that you won't--that you don't want to come?" "Precisely," I answered. "I have already had the honour of one interview with the Archduchess, and I imagine that no useful purpose would be served by re-opening the subject of our discussion!" "The young lady, then?" he remarked, turning again to Isobel. "The young lady remains under my charge," I answered. "You will be so good as to express my regrets to the Archduchess." He hesitated for a moment, and then, with a slight bow to Isobel, left us. She spoke to me, and we had been so long silent that our voices sounded strange. "Thank you, Arnold," she said quietly. "This is all so wonderful that I could not bear to have it disturbed." "I pray that it may not be," I answered. "The Archduchess's interest is flattering, but mysterious. I for one do not trust her. I wish----" I broke off in my speech, for I saw that the principal seat in the opposite box was vacant. As for Isobel, I doubt whether she noticed my sudden pause. Her hands were still caressing the soft pink blossoms in her lap, her eyes were fixed upon vacancy. She was in a sort of dream, from which I did not care to rouse her. I knew very well that the awakening would come fast enough. Another imperative tap upon the door. I opened it, and the Archduchess swept past me. In the darkness of our box her diamonds glittered like fire, the perfume from her draperies was stronger by far than the delicate fragrance of the roses which Isobel still held. Me she ignored altogether. She went straight up to Isobel, and, stooping down, rested her gloved hand upon the girl's shoulder. "I sent for you just now," she said. "Did you not understand?" Isobel raised her eyebrows. The Archduchess was angry, and her voice betrayed her. "I do not know any reason," Isobel answered, "why I should do your bidding." [Illustration: "I do not know any reason" Isobel answered, "why I should do your bidding."] The Archduchess was silent for a moment. I think that she was waiting until she could control her voice. "Isobel," she said, "I will tell you a very good reason. I cannot keep silence any longer. They will not give you up to me any other way, so I have come to claim you openly. You shall know the truth. I am your mother's sister!" Isobel rose slowly to her feet. She was as tall as the Archduchess, and the likeness which had always haunted me was unmistakable. Only Isobel was of the finer mould, and her eyes were different. "Why did you not tell me this before--at the Mordaunt Rooms, for instance?" she asked. "You came upon me like a thunderclap," the Archduchess answered quickly. "For years we had lost all trace of you. Besides, there were reasons--you know that there were reasons why I might surely have been forgiven for hesitating. But let that go. We had better have your story blazoned out once more to the world than that you should live your life in this hole-and-corner fashion. I shall take you back to Waldenburg. I presume, sir!" she added, turning suddenly towards me, "that even you will not question my right to assume the guardianship of my own niece?" The memory of Feurgeres' look came to my aid, or I scarcely know how I should have answered her. "Your Highness," I said, "it is for Isobel to decide. She is no longer a child. Only I would remind you that you have on more than one occasion endeavoured to assume that guardianship without mentioning any such relationship." "You know Isobel's history," the Archduchess answered. "Can you wonder that I was anxious to avoid all publicity?" "Your Highness," I said, "we do not know Isobel's history--yet. We shall hear it to-night." "He has not told you--yet?" she asked incredulously. "He is coming to my rooms to-night," I answered. "You shall hear it before then," she exclaimed, with a little laugh. "Put on your hat, child. We will drive to my house, you and I and Mr. Greatson, and I will tell you everything. You will know then how greatly that man insulted you by daring to allow you to occupy this box, to approach you at all." "Madame," Isobel said, "I thank you, but I wish to hear the end of the play. And as for my history, Monsieur Feurgeres has promised to tell it to Mr. Greatson to-night." I saw the Archduchess's teeth meet, and a spot of colour that burned in her cheeks. "You talk like a fool, child," she said fiercely. "You are being deceived on every side. It is not fit that that man should come into your presence. It is a disgrace that you should mention his name." "Mr.--Monsieur Feurgeres has proved himself my friend," Isobel answered quietly. The Archduchess's eyes were burning. She was a woman of violent temper, and it was fast becoming beyond her control. "Child," she said, "I am your aunt, the daughter of the King of Waldenburg. You, too, are of the same race. You know well that I speak the truth. How dare you talk to me of a creature like Feurgeres? You have our blood in your veins. I command you to come with me, and break off at once and for ever these remarkable associations. You shall make what return you will later on to those whom you may think"--she darted a contemptuous glance at me--"have been your friends. But from this moment I claim you. Come!" Isobel looked her aunt in the face. She spoke courteously, but without faltering. "Madame," she said, "it is not possible for me to do as you ask. Whatever plans are made for my future, it is to my dear friend here," she said, looking across at me with shining eyes, "that I owe everything. And as for Monsieur Feurgeres, I have promised him to occupy this box for this evening, and I shall do so." The Archduchess was very white. "You force me to tell you, child," she said. "This creature Feurgeres was your mother's----" "Your Highness!" I cried. She stopped short and bit her lip. Isobel was very pale, but she pointed to the door. The orchestra had commenced to play. "Madame," she said, "Monsieur Feurgeres loved my mother. I shall keep my word to him." There was a soft knock at the door. Captain Milton stood on the threshold. "Your Highness," he said, bowing low, "the curtain will rise in thirty seconds." The Archduchess left us without a word. _ |
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