Books: His Hour
E >>
Elinor Glyn >> His Hour
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 | 10 |
11 |
12 |
13
"If it were only arranged, what capabilities it all has," she thought;
"but as it is, it seems to speak of Gritzko and fierce strife."
Tea and the usual quantities of _bonnes bouches_ and vodka waited
them and a bowl of hot punch.
And all three English people, Stephen Strong, Tamara and Jack, admired
their host's gracious welcome, and his courtly manners. Not a trace of
the wild Gritzko seemed left.
Tamara wondered secretly what their sleeping accommodation would be
like.
"Tantine, you must act hostess for me. Will you show these ladies their
rooms," the Prince said. "Dinner is at eight o'clock, but you have lots
of time before for a little bridge if you want."
He took them through the usual amount of reception-rooms--a
billiard-room and library, and small boudoir--and then they came out on
another staircase which led to the floor above. Here he left them and
returned to the men.
"This was done up by the late Princess, Tamara," her godmother said.
"Even twenty years ago the taste was perfectly awful, as you can see.
The whole house could be made beautiful if only there was someone who
cared--though I expect we shall be comfortable enough."
The top passage proved to be wide, but only distempered in two colors,
like the walls of a station waiting-room. Not the slightest attempt to
beautify or furnish with carved chairs, and cabinets of china, and
portraits and tapestry on the walls, as in an English house. In the
passage all was as plain as a barrack.
Tamara's room and the Princess' joined. They were both gorgeously
upholstered in crude blue satin brocade, and full of gilt heavy
furniture, but in each there was a modern brass bed.
They were immense apartments, and warm and bright, monuments of the
taste of 1878.
"Is it not incredible, Marraine, that with the beautiful models of the
eighteenth century in front of them, people could have perpetrated
this? Waves of awful taste seem to come, and artists lose their sense
of beauty and produce the grotesque."
"This is a paradise compared to some," the Princess laughed. "You
should see my sister-in-law's place!"
One bridge table was made up already when they got back to the saloon,
and Sonia, Serge Grekoff and Valonne, only waited the Princess' advent
to begin their game.
It seemed to be an understood thing that Gritzko and his English guest
should be left out, and so practically alone.
"I feel it is my duty to learn to play better," Tamara said, "so I am
going to watch."
He put down his hand and seized her wrist. "You shall certainly not,"
he said. "You cannot be so rude as deliberately to controvert your
host. It is my pleasure that you shall sit here and talk."
His eyes were flashing, and Tamara's spirit rose.
"What a savage you are, Prince," she laughed. "Everything must be only
as you wish! That I want to watch the bridge does not enter into your
consideration."
"Not a bit."
"Well, then, since I must stay here I shall be disagreeable and not say
a word."
And she sat down primly and folded her hands.
He lit a cigarette, and she noticed his hand trembled a little, but his
voice was quite steady, and in fact low as he said:
"I tell you frankly, if you go on treating me as you have done today,
whatever happens is on your head."
"Do you mean to strangle me then?--or have me torn up by dogs?" and
Tamara smiled provokingly. With all the others in the room, and almost
within earshot, she felt perfectly safe.
She had suffered so much, it seemed good to oppose him a little, when
it could not entail a duel with some unoffending man!
"I do not know yet what I shall be impelled to do, only I warn you, if
you tease me, you will pay the price." And he puffed a cloud of smoke.
"He can do nothing tonight," Tamara thought, "and tomorrow we are going
back to Moscow, and then I am returning home." A spirit of devilment
was in her. Nearly always it had been he who regulated things, and now
it was her turn. She had been so very unhappy, and had only the outlook
of dullness and regret. Tonight she would retaliate, she would do as
she felt inclined.
So she leaned back in her chair and smiled, making a tantalizing moue
at him, while she said, mockingly:
"Aren't you a barbarian, Prince! Only the days of Ivan the Terrible are
over, thank goodness!"
He took a chair and sat down quietly, but the tone of his voice should
have warned her as he said:
"You are counting upon the unknown."
She peeped at him now through half-closed alluring lids, and she
noticed he was very pale.
In her quiet, well-ordered life she had never come in contact with real
passion. She had not the faintest idea of the vast depths she was
stirring. All she knew was she loved him very much, and the whole thing
galled her pride horribly. It seemed a satisfaction, a salve to her
wounded vanity, to be able to make him feel, to punish him a little for
all her pain.
"Think! This time next week. I shall be safe in peaceful England, where
we have not to combat the unknown."
"No?"
"No. Marraine and I have settled everything. I take the Wednesday's Nord
Express after we get back to Petersburg."
"And tomorrow is Friday, and there are yet five days. Well, we must
contrive to show you some more scenes of our uncivilized country, and
perhaps after all you won't go."
Tamara laughed with gay scorn. She put out her little foot and tapped
the edge of the great stove.
"For once I shall do as I please, Prince. I shall not ask your leave!"
His eyes seemed to gleam, and he lay perfectly still in his chair like
some panther watching its prey. Tamara's blood was up. She would not be
dominated! She continued mocking and defying him until she drove him
gradually mad.
But on one thing she had counted rightly, he could do nothing with them
all in the room.
First one and then another left their game, and joined them for a few
minutes, and then went back.
And so in this fashion the late afternoon passed and they went up to
dress.
No one was down in the great saloon when Tamara and the Princess
descended for dinner, but as they entered, Stephen Strong and Valonne
came in from the opposite door and joined them near the stove, and
Tamara and Valonne talked, while the other two wandered to a distant
couch.
"Have you ever been to any of these wonderful parties one hears have
taken place, Count Valonne?" she asked.
Valonne smiled his enigmatic smile. "Yes," he said. "I have once or
twice--perhaps you think this room shows traces of some rather violent
amusements, and really on looking round, I believe it does!"
Tamara shivered slightly. She had the feeling known as a goose walking
over her grave.
"It is as if wild animals played here--hardly human beings," she said.
"Look at that cabinet, and the sofa, and--and--that picture! One cannot
help reflecting upon what caused those holes. One's imagination can
conjure up extraordinary things."
"Not more extraordinary than the probable facts," and Valonne laughed
as if at some astonishing recollection. "You have not yet seen our
host's own rooms though, I expect?"
"Why?" asked Tamara. "But can they possibly be worse than this?"
"No, that is just it. He had them done up by one of your English firms,
and they are beautifully comfortable and correct. His sitting-room is
full of books, and a few good pictures, and leads into his bedroom and
dressing-room; and as for the bathroom it is as perfect as any the best
American plumber could invent!"
Valonne had spent years at Washington, and in England too, and spoke
English almost as a native.
"He is the most remarkable contrast of wildness and civilization I have
ever met."
"It always seems to me as though he were trying to crush something--to
banish something in himself," said Tamara. "As though he did these wild
things to forget."
"It is the limitless nature warring against an impossible bar. If he
were an Englishman he would soar to be one of the greatest of your
country, Madame," Valonne said. "You have not perhaps talked to him
seriously; he is extraordinarily well read; and then on some point that
we of the Occident have known as children, he will be completely
ignorant, but he never bores one! Nothing he does makes one feel heavy
like lead!"
Tamara looked so interested, Valonne went on.
"These servants down here absolutely idolize him; they have all been in
the house since he or they were born. For them he can do no wrong. He
has a gymnasium, and he keeps two or three of them to exercise him, and
wrestle with him, and last year Basil, the second one, put his master's
shoulder out of joint, and then tried to commit suicide with remorse.
You can't, until you have been here a long time, understand their
strange natures. So easily moved to passion, so fierce and barbaric,
and yet so full of sentiment and fidelity. I firmly believe if he were
to order them to set fire to us all in our beds tonight, they would do
it without a word! He is their personal 'Little Father.' For them there
is a trinity to worship and respect--the Emperor, God, and their
Master."
Tamara felt extremely moved. A passionate wild regret swept over her.
Oh! why might not fate let him love her really, so that they could be
happy. How she would adore to soothe him, and be tender and gentle and
obedient, and bring him peace!
But just at that moment, with an air of exasperating insouciant
insolence, he came into the room and began chaffing with Valonne, and
turning to her said something which set her wounded pride again all
aflame, and burning with impotence and indignation she, as the strange
guest, put her hand on his arm to go in to dinner.
Zacouska was partaken of, and then the serious repast began. Every one
was in the highest spirits. Countess Olga and Lord Courtray looked as
though they were getting on with giant strides. Jack had got to the
whispering stage, which Tamara knew to be a serious one with him. The
whole party became worked up to a point of extra gaiety. On her other
hand sat Sonia's husband, Prince Solentzeff-Zasiekin. But Gritzko
sparkled with brilliancy and seemed to lead the entire table.
There was something so extremely attractive about him in his character
of host that Tamara felt she dared hardly look at him or she could not
possibly keep up this cold reserve if she did!
So she turned and talked, and apparently listened, with scarcely a
pause to her right-hand neighbor's endless dissertations upon Moscow,
and while she answered interestedly, her thoughts grew more and more
full of rebellion and unrest.
It was as if a needle had an independent will, and yet was being drawn
by a magnet against itself. She had to use every bit of her force to
keep her head turned to Prince Solentzeff-Zasiekin, and when Gritzko
did address her, only to answer him in monosyllables, stiffly, but
politely, as a stranger guest should.
By the end of dinner he was again wild with rage and exasperation.
When they got back to the great saloon, they found the end of it had
been cleared and a semicircle of chairs arranged for them to sit in and
watch some performance. It proved to be a troupe of Russian dancers and
some Cossacks who made a remarkable display with swords, while
musicians, in their national dress, accompanied the performance.
Tamara and Lord Courtray had seen this same sort of dancing in London
when Russian troupes gave their "turns," but never executed with such
wonderful fire and passion as this they witnessed now. The feats were
quite extraordinary, and one or two of the women were attractive-looking
creatures.
Gritzko's attitude toward them was that of the benevolent master to
highly trained valued hounds. Indeed this feeling seemed to be mutual,
the hounds adoring their master with blind devotion, as all his
belongings did.
During most of the time he sat behind the Princess, and whispered
whatever conversation he had in her ear; but every now and then he
would move to Princess Sonia or Countess Olga, and lastly subsided
close to Tamara, and bending over leaned on the back of her chair.
He did not speak, but his close proximity caused her to experience the
exquisite physical thrill she feared and dreaded. When her heart beat
like that, and her body tingled with sensation, it was almost
impossible to keep her head.
His fierceness frightened her, but when he was gentle, she knew she
melted at once, and only longed to be in his arms. So she drew herself
up and shrank forward away from him, and began an excited conversation
with Stephen Strong.
Gritzko got up abruptly and strode back to the Princess. And soon
tables and supper were brought in, and there was a general move.
Tamara contrived to outwit him once more when he came up to speak. It
was the only way, she felt. No half-measures would do now. She loved
him too much to be able to unbend an inch with safety. Otherwise it
would be all over with her, and she could not resist.
They had been standing alone for an instant, and he said, looking
passionately into her eyes:
"Tamara, do you know you are driving me crazy--do you think it wise?"
"I really don't care whether my conduct is wise or not, Prince," she
replied. "As I told you, tonight, and from now onward, I shall do as I
please." And she gathered all her forces together to put an indifferent
look on her face.
"So be it then," he said, and turned instantly away, and for the rest
of the time never addressed her again.
The long drive in the cold had made every one sleepy, and contrary to
their usual custom, they were all ready for bed soon after one o'clock,
and to their great surprise Gritzko made no protest, but let the
ladies quietly go.
Tamara's last thoughts before she closed her weary eyes were, what a
failure it all had been! She had succeeded in nothing. She loved him
madly, and she was going back home. And if she had made him suffer, it
was no consolation! She would much rather have been happy in his arms!
Meanwhile, Gritzko had summoned Ivan, his major domo, and the substance
of his orders to that humble slave was this. That early on the morrow
the stove was to be lit in the hut by the lake, where at the time when
the woodcock came in quantities he sometimes spent the night waiting
for the dawn.
"And see that there is fodder for the horses," he added. "And that
Stépan drives my troika with the blacks, and let the brown team be
ready, too, but neither of these to come round until the grays have
gone. And in the hut put food--cold food--and some brandy and
champagne."
The servant bowed in obedience and was preparing to leave the room.
"Oil the locks and put the key in my overcoat pocket," his master
called again. And then he lit another cigarette and drawing back the
heavy curtains looked out on the night.
It was inky black, the snow had not yet begun to fall.
All promised well.
CHAPTER XVII
Tamara had just begun to dress when her godmother came into her room
next day.
"There is going to be a terrible snow storm, dear," she said. "I think
we should get down fairly early and suggest to Gritzko that we start
back to Moscow before lunch. It is no joke to be caught in this wild
country. I will send you in Katia."
Tamara's maid had been left in Petersburg, and indeed her godmother's,
an elderly Russian accustomed to these excursions, had been the only
one brought.
"I won't be more than half an hour dressing," she said. "Don't go down
without me, Marraine."
And the Princess promised and returned to her room.
"It has been a real success, our little outing, has it not?" she said,
when later they were descending the stairs. "Gritzko has been so quiet
and nice. I am so happy, dear child, that you can go away now without
that uncomfortable feeling of quarreling. There was one moment when he
got up from behind your chair last night I feared you had angered him
about something, but afterward he was so gentle and charming when we
talked I felt quite reassured."
"Yes, indeed," feebly responded Tamara. "The party has been positively
tame!"
They found their host had gone with Jack and the rest of the men to the
stables to inspect his famous teams. But Princess Sonia and Countess
Olga were already down. They were smoking lazily, and had almost
suggested a double dummy of their favorite game.
They hailed the two with delight, and soon the four began a rubber, and
Tamara, who hated it, had to keep the whole of her attention to try and
avoid making some mistake.
Thus an hour past, and first Stephen Strong and then the other men came
in.
Jack Courtray was enthusiastic about the horses, and indeed the whole
thing. He and Gritzko had arranged to go on a bear-hunt the following
week, and everything looked _couleur de rose_--except the sky,
that continued covered with an inky pall.
The Princess beckoned to Gritzko and took him aside. She explained her
fears about the storm, and the necessity of an earlier start, to which
he agreed.
"I am going to ask you to let us take Katia with us, we have only the
one maid, and must have her in Moscow when we arrive," she said.
So thus it was arranged. The Princess and Stephen Strong and Katia were
to start first, and Sonia and her husband would take both Serge and
Valonne, leaving Gritzko to bring Tamara, Olga and Lord Courtray last.
All through the early lunch, which was now brought in, nothing could
have been more lamblike than their host. He exerted himself to be
sweetly agreeable to every one, and the Princess, generally so alert,
felt tranquil and content, while Tamara almost experienced a sense of
regret.
Only Count Valonne, if he had been asked, would have suggested--but he
was not officious and kept his ideas to himself.
The snow now began to fall, just a few thin flakes, but it made them
hurry their departure.
In the general chatter and chaff no one noticed that Gritzko had never
once spoken directly to Tamara, but she was conscious of it, and
instead of its relieving her, she felt a sudden depression.
"You will be quite safe with Olga and your friend, dearest," the
Princess whispered to her as she got into the first troika which came
round. "And we shall be only just in front of you."
So they waved adieu.
Then Princess Sonia's party started. The cold was intense, and as the
team of blacks had not yet appeared, the host suggested the two ladies
should go back and wait in the saloon.
"Don't you think our way of herding in parties here is quite
ridiculous," he said to Jack, when Olga and Tamara were gone. "After
the rest get some way on, I'll have round the brown team too. It is
going to be a frightful storm, and we shall go much better with only
two in each sleigh."
Jack was entirely of his opinion, from his English point of view, a
party of four made two of them superfluous. Countess Olga and himself
were quite enough. So he expressed his hearty approval of this
arrangement, and presently as they smoked on the steps, the three brown
horses trotted up.
"I'll go and fetch Olga," Gritzko said, and as luck would have it he
met her at the saloon door.
"I had forgotten my muff," she said, "and had just run up to fetch it."
Then he explained to her about the storm and the load, and since it was
a question of duty to the poor horses, Countess Olga was delighted to
let pleasure go with it hand in hand. And she allowed herself to be
settled under the furs, with Jack, without going back to speak to
Tamara. Indeed, Gritzko was so matter of fact she started without a
qualm.
"We shall overtake you in ten minutes," he said. "The blacks are much
the faster team." And they gaily waved as they disappeared beyond the
bend of the trees. Then he spoke to his faithful Ivan. "In a quarter of
an hour let the blacks come round." And there was again the gleam of a
panther in his eyes as he glanced at the snow.
All this while Tamara, seated by the saloon stove, was almost growing
uneasy at being left so long alone. What could Olga be doing to stay
such a time?
Then the door opened, and the Prince came in.
"We must start now," he said, in a coldly polite tone. "The storm is
coming, and four persons made too heavy a load; so Lord Courtray and
Olga have gone on."
Tamara's heart gave a great bound, but his face expressed nothing, and
her sudden fear calmed.
He was ceremoniously polite as he helped her in. Nor did he sit too
near her or change his manner one atom as they went along. He hardly
spoke; indeed they both had to crouch down in the furs to shelter from
the blinding snow. And if Tamara had not been so preoccupied with
keeping her woollen scarf tight over her head she would have noticed
that when they left the park gate they turned to the right, in the full
storm, not to the left, where it was clearer and which was the way they
had come.
At last the Prince said something to the coachman in Russian, and the
man shook his head--the going was terribly heavy. They seemed to be
making tracks for themselves through untrodden snow.
"Stépan says we cannot possibly go much further, and we must shelter
in the shooting hut," Gritzko announced, gravely; and again Tamara
felt a twinge of fear.
"But what has become of the others?" she asked. "Why do we not see
their tracks?"
"They are obliterated in five minutes. You do not understand the
Russian storm," he said.
Tamara's heart now began to beat again rather wildly, but she reasoned
with herself; she was no coward, and indeed why had she any cause for
alarm? No one could be more aloof than her companion seemed. She was
already numb with cold too, and her common sense told her shelter of
any sort would be acceptable.
They had turned into the forest by now, and the road--if road it could
be called--was rather more distinct.
It was a weird scene. The great giant pine trees, and the fine falling
flakes penetrating through, the quickly vanishing daylight, and the
mist rising from the steaming horses as they galloped along; while
Stépan stood there urging them on like some northern pirate at a ship's
prow.
At last the view showed the white frozen lake, and by it a rough log
hut. They came upon it suddenly, so that Tamara could only realize it
was not large and rather low, when they drew up at the porch.
At the time she was too frozen and miserable to notice that the Prince
unlocked the door, but afterward she remembered she should have been
struck by the strangeness of his having a key.
He helped her out, and she almost fell she was so stiff with cold, and
then she found herself, after passing through a little passage, in a
warm, large room. It had a stove at one end, and the walls, distempered
green, had antlers hung round. There was one plain oak table and a
bench behind it, a couple of wooden armchairs, a corner cupboard, and
an immense couch with leather cushions, which evidently did for a bed,
and on the floor were several wolf skins.
The Prince made no explanation as to why there was a fire, he just
helped her off with her furs without a word; he hung them up on a peg
and then divested himself of his own.
He wore the brown coat to-day, and was handsome as a god. Then, after
he had examined the stove and looked from the window, he quietly left
the room.
The contrast of the heat after the intense cold without made a tingling
and singing in Tamara's ears. She was not sure, but thought she heard
the key turn in the lock. She started to her feet from the chair where
she sat and rushed to try the door, and this time her heart again gave
a terrible bound, and she stood sick with apprehension.
The door was fastened from without.
For a few awful moments which seemed an eternity, she was conscious of
nothing but an agonized terror. She could not reason or decide how to
act. And then her fine courage came back, and she grew more calm.
She turned to the window, but that was double, and tightly shut and
fastened up. There was no other exit, only this one door. Finding
escape hopeless, she sat down and waited the turn of events. Perhaps he
only meant to frighten her, perhaps there was some reason why the door
must be barred; perhaps there were bears in this terribly lonely place.
She sat there reasoning with herself and controlling her nerves for
moments which appeared like hours, and then she heard footsteps in the
passage, breaking the awful silence, and the door opened, and Gritzko
strode into the room.
He locked it after him, and pocketed the key; then he faced her. What
she saw in his passionate eyes turned her lips gray with fear.
And now everything of that subtle thing in womankind which resists
capture, came uppermost in Tamara's spirit. She loved him--but even so
she would not be taken.
She stood holding on to the rough oak table like a deer at bay, her
face deadly white, and her eyes wide and staring.
Then stealthily the Prince drew nearer, and with a spring seized her
and clasped her in his arms.
"Now, now, you shall belong to me," he cried. "You are mine at last,
and you shall pay for the hours of pain you have made me suffer!" and
he rained mad kisses on her trembling lips.
A ghastly terror shook Tamara. This man whom she loved, to whom in
happier circumstances she might have ceded all that he asked, now only
filled her with frantic fear. But she would not give in, she would
rather die than be conquered.
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 | 10 |
11 |
12 |
13