Alcott, Louisa May - SSC 20 (35 page)

 
          
“I
must trouble you with the relation of a little affair which will probably
detain me till after the departure, for but a w eek now remains of April.”

 
          
“I
listen, mademoiselle.”

 
          
“Good
Madame Bayard is unfortunately the victim of a cruel disease, which menaces her
life unless an operation can be successfully performed. The time for this trial
is at hand, and I have promised to be with her. If she lives I can safely leave
her in a few davs; if she dies I must remain till her son can arrive. This sad
duty will keep me for a week or two, and I can rejoin madame at anv point she
may desire.”

 
          
“But
why make this promise? Madame Bayard has friends — why impose this unnecessary
sacrifice of time, nerve, and sympathy upon you, mademoiselle?” And the prince
knit his brows, as if ill-pleased.

 
          
“When
I came to Paris long ago a poor, friendless, sorrowful girl, this good woman
took me in, and for five years has been a mother to me. I am grateful, and
would make any sacrifice to serve her in her hour of need.”

 
          
I
spoke with energy; the frown melted to the smile which always ennobled his
face, as the prince replied, in a tone of forgetful acquiescence:

 
          
“You
are right. I say no more. If you are detained I w ill lea\e Vacil to escort you
to us. He is true as steel, and will guard you well. W hen must you go to the
poor lady?”

 
          
“To-morrow;
the princess consents to my wish, and I devote myself to my friend till she
needs me no longer. May I ask when you leave
Paris
?” I could not resist asking.

 
          
“On
the last day of the month,” was the brief reply, as the prince rose, and roamed
away with a thoughtful face, leaving me to ponder over many things as I wrought
my golden pansies, wondering if I should ever dare to offer the purple velvet
slippers to the possessor of a handsomer foot than Adolph.

 
          
On
the follow ing day I went to xMadame Bayard; the operation was performed, but
failed, and the poor soul died in my arms, blessing me for mv love and care. I
sent tidings of the event to the princess, and received a kind reply, saying
all was ready, and the day irrevocably fixed.

 
          
I
passed a busy week; saw my best friend laid to her last rest; arranged such of
her affairs as I could, and impatiently awaited the arrival of her son. On the
second day of May he came, and I was free.

 
          
As
soon as possible I hastened to the hotel, expecting to find it deserted. To my
surprise, however, I saw lights in the
salon
of the princess, and heard
sounds of life everywhere as I went wonderingly toward my own apartments. The
windows were open, flowers filled the room with spring odors, and everything
wore an air of welcome as if some one waited for me. Some one did, for on the
balcony, which ran along the whole front, leaned the prince in the mild,
new-fallen twilight, singing softly to
himself
.

 
          
“Not
gone!”
I
exclaimed, in unfeigned
surprise.

 
          
He
turned, smiled, flushed, and said, as he vanished:

 
          
“I
follow mademoiselle’s good example in yielding my wishes to the comfort and
pleasure of others.”

 
          
The
next day we set out, but the dreaded journey proved delightful, for the weather
was
fine,
and the prince in a charming mood. No
allusion was made to the unexpected delay, except by the princess, who
privately expressed her wonder at my power, and treated me with redoubled
confidence and affection. We loitered by the way, and did not reach
St. Petersburg
till June.

 
          
I
had expected changes in mv life as well as change of scene, but was unprepared
for the position which it soon became evident I was to assume. In
Paris
I had been the companion, now I was treated
as a friend and equal
bv
both the prince and princess.
They entirely ignored my post, and remembering only that I was by birth a
gentlewoman, by a thousand friendly acts made it impossible for me to refuse
the relations which they chose to establish between us. I suspect the princess
hinted to her intimates that I was a connection of her own, and my name gave
color to the statement. Thus I found myself received with respect and interest
by the circle in which I now moved, and truly enjoyed the free, gay life, which
seemed doubly charming, after years of drudgerv.

 
          
With
this exception there was less alteration in my surroundings than I had
imagined, for the upper classes in Russia speak nothing but French; in dress,
amusements, and manners, copy French models so carefully that I should often
have fancied myself in Paris, but for the glimpses of barbarism, which
observing eyes cannot fail to detect, in spite of the splendor which surrounds
them. The hotel of the prince was a dream of luxury; his equipages magnificent;
his wealth apparently boundless; his friends among the highest in the land. He
appeared to unusual advantage at home, and seemed anxious that I should observe
this, exerting himself in many ways to impress me w ith his power, even while
he was most affable and devoted.

 
          
I
could no longer blind myself to the truth, and tried to meet it honestly. The
prince loved me, and made no secret of his preference, though not a w'ord had
passed his lips. I had felt this since the night he carried me in his arms, but
remembering the difference in rank, had taught myself to see in it only the
passing caprice of a master for a servant, and as such, to regard it as an
insult. Since we came to
St. Petersburg
the change in his manner seemed to assure me that he sought me as an
equal,
and desired to do me honor in the eyes of those about
us. This soothed my pride and touched my heart, but, alluring as the thought
was to my vanity and my ambition, I did not yield to it, feeling that I should
not love, and that such an alliance was not the one for me.

 
          
Having
come to this conclusion, I resolved to abide by it, and did so the more
inflexibly as the temptation to falter grew stronger. My calm, cool manner
perplexed and irritated the prince, who seemed to grow' more passionate as test
after test failed to extort any betrayal of regard from me. The princess,
absorbed in her own affairs, seemed apparently blind to her brother’s
infatuation, till I was forced to enlighten her.

           
July was nearly over, when the
prince announced that he was about to visit one of his estates, some versts
from the city, and we were to accompany him. I had discovered that Volnoi was a
solitary place, that no guests were expected, and that the prince was supreme
master of everything and everybody on the estate. This did not suit me, for
Madame Yermaloff, an Englishwoman, who had conceived a friendship for me, had
filled my head with stories of Russian barbarity, and the entire helplessness of
whomsoever dared to thwart or defy a Russian seigneur, especially when on his
own domain. I laughed at her gossip, yet it influenced my decision, for of late
the prince had looked ireful, and his black eyes had kept vigilant watch over
me. I knew that his patience was exhausted, and feared that a stormy scene was
in store for me. To avoid all further annoyance, I boldly stated the case to
the princess, and decidedly refused to leave
St. Petersburg
.

 
          
To
my surprise, she agreed with me; and I discovered, what I had before suspected,
that, much as she liked me as a friend, the princess would have preferred her
brother to marry one of his own
rank
. She delicately
hinted this, yet, unwilling to give me up entirely, begged me to remain with
Madame Yermaloff till she returned, when some new arrangement might be made. I
consented, and feeling unequal to a scene with the prince, left his sister to
inform him of my decision, and went quietly to my friend, who gladly received
me. Next morning the following note from the princess somewhat reassured me:

 
          
Ma
CHERE Sybil—
We
leave in an hour. Alexis received the
news of your flight in a singular manner. I expected to see him half frantic;
but no, he smiled, and said, tranquilly: “She fears and flies me; it is a sign
of weakness, for which I thank her.” I do not understand him; but when we are
quiet at Volnoi, I hope to convince him that you are, as always, wise and
prudent. Adieu! I embrace you tenderly.
N.T.

 
          
A
curious sense of disappointment and uneasiness took possession of me on reading
this note, and, womanlike, I began to long for that which I had denied myself.
Madame Yermaloff found me a very dull companion, and began to rally me on my
preoccupation.

 
          
I
tried to forget, but could not, and often stole out to walk past the prince’s
hotel, now closed and silent. A week dragged slowly by, and I had begun to
think the prince had indeed forgotten me, when I was convinced that he had not
in a somewhat alarming manner. Returning one evening from a lonely walk in the
Place Michel, with its green English square, I observed a carriage standing
near the Palace Galitzin, and listlessly wondered who was about to travel, for
the coachman was in his place and a servant stood holding the door open. As I
passed I glanced in, but saw nothing, for in the act sudden darkness fell upon
me; a cloak was dexterously thrown over me, enveloping my head and arms, and
rendering me helpless. Some one lifted me into the carriage, the door closed,
and
1
was driven rapidly away, in spite of my stifled cries and
fruitless struggles. At first I was frantic with anger and fear, and rebelled
desperately against the strong hold which restrained me. Not a word was spoken,
but I felt sure, after the first alarm, that the prince was near me, and this
discovery, though it increased my anger, allayed my fear. Being
half-suffocated, I suddenly feigned faintness, and lay motionless, as if spent.
A careful hand withdrew the thick folds, and as I opened my eyes they met those
of the prince fixed on me, full of mingled solicitude and triumph.

 
          
“You!
Yes; I might have known no one else would dare
perpetrate such an outrage!” I cried, breathlessly, and in a tone of intense
scorn, though my heart leaped with joy to see him.

 
          
He
laughed, while his eyes flashed, as he answered, gayly:

 
          
“Mademoiselle
forgets that she once said she ‘liked courage in love as in war, and respected
a man who conquered all obstacles.’ I remember this, and, when other means fail
dare to brave even her anger to gain mv object.”

 
          
“What
is that object?” I demanded, as my eyes fell before the ardent glance fixed on
me.

 
          
“It
is to see vou at Volnoi, in spite of your cruel refusal.”

 
          
“I
will not go.”

 
          
And
with a sudden gesture I dashed my hand through the window and cried for help
with all my strength. In an instant I was pinioned again, and my cries stifled
by the cloak, as the prince said, sternly:

 
          
“If
mademoiselle resists, it will be the worse for her. Submit, and no harm will
befall you. Accept the society of
one
who adores you,
and permit yourself to be conquered by one who never yields — except to you,”
he added, softly, as he held me closer, and put by the cloak again.

 
          
“Let
me go — I will be quiet,” I panted, feeling that it was indeed idle to resist
now, yet resolving that he should suffer for this freak.

 
          
“You
promise to submit — to smile again, and be your charming self?” he said, in the
soft tone that was so hard to deny.

 
          
“I
promise nothing but to be quiet. Release me instantly!” and
I
tried to undo the clasp of
the hand that held me.

 
          
“Not
till you forgive me and look kind. Nay, struggle if you will, I like it, for
till now you have been the master. See, I pardon all your cruelty, and find you
more lovely
than ever.”

 
          
As
he spoke he bent and kissed me on forehead, lips and cheek with an ardor which
wholly daunted me. I did pardon him, for there was real love in his face, and
love robbed the act of rudeness in my eyes, for instead of any show of anger or
disdain, I hid my face in my hands, weeping the first tears he had ever seen me
shed. It tamed him in a moment, for as I sobbed I heard him imploring me to be
calm, promising to sin no more, and assuring me that he meant only to carry me
to Volnoi as its mistress, whom he loved and honored above all women. Would I
forgive his wild act, and let his obedience in all things else atone for this?

 
          
I
must forgive it; and if he did not mock me by idle offers of obedience, I
desired him to release me entirely and leave me to compose myself, if possible.

 
          
He
instantly withdrew his arm, and seated himself opposite me, looking half
contrite, half exultant, as he arranged the cloak about my feet. I shrunk into
the corner and dried my tears, feeling unusually weak and womanish, just when I
most desired to be strong and stern. Before I could whet my tongue for some
rebuke, the prince uttered an exclamation of alarm, and caught my hand. I
looked, and saw that it was bleeding from a wound made by the shattered glass.

 
          
“Let
it bleed,” I said, trying to withdraw it. But he held it fast, binding it up
with his own handkerchief in the tenderest manner, saying as he finished, with
a passionate pressure:

 
          
“Give
it to me,
Sybil,
I want it — this little hand — so
resolute, yet soft. Let it be mine, and it shall never know labor or wound
again. Why do you frown — what parts us?”

 
          
“
This,”
and I pointed to the crest embroidered on the corner
of the
mouchoir.

 
          
“Is
that all?” he asked, bending forward with a keen glance that seemed to read my
heart.

 
          
“One
other trifle,” I replied sharplv.

 
          
“Name
it, my princess, and I will annihilate it, as all other obstacles,” he said,
with the lordly air that became him.

 
          
“It
is impossible.”

 
          
“Nothing
is impossible to Alexis Demidoff.”

 
          
“I
do not love you.”

 
          
“In
truth, Sybil?” he cried incredulously.

 
          
“In
truth,” I answered steadily.

 
          
He
eyed me an instant with a gloomy air, then drew a long breath, and set his
teeth, exclaiming:

 
          
“You
are mortal. I shall
make
you love me.”

 
          
“How, monsieur?”
I coldly
asked,
w
hile my traitorous heart beat fast.

 
          
“I
shall humble myself before you, shall obey your commands, shall serve you,
protect you, love and honor you ardently, faithfully, while I live. Will not
such devotion win you?”

 
          
“No.”