Books: His Hour
E >>
Elinor Glyn >> His Hour
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 | 9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13
"I can take care of my own deeds, thanks, Madame," he said.
And then anger rose in Tamara beyond sympathy for pain.
She sat silent, staring in front of her, the strain of the evening was
beginning to tell. She hardly knew what he said, or she said, until
the Mazurka was at an end, all the impression it left with her was one
of tension and fear. Then the polonaise formed, and they went in to
supper.
Here they were soon seated next their own special friends, and Gritzko
seemed to throw off all restraint. He drank a great deal, and then
poured out a glass of brandy and mixed it with the champagne.
He had never been more brilliant, and kept the table in a roar, while
much of his conversation was addressed to Tatiane Shébanoff, who sat on
his left hand.
Tamara appeared as though she were turned into stone.
And so the night wore on. It was now four o'clock in the morning. The
company all went to the galleries again to watch the departure of the
King and Queen. And, leaning on the marble balustrade next the Prince,
Tamara suddenly noticed a thin crimson stream trickle from under his
sleeve to his glove.
He saw it, too, and with an impatient exclamation of annoyance he moved
back and disappeared in the crowd. The rest of the ball for Tamara was
a ghastly blank, although they kept it up with immense spirit until
very late.
She seemed unable to get near the Princess, she was always surrounded,
and when at last she did come upon her in deep converse with Valonne.
"Tamara, dear," she said, "you must be so dreadfully tired. Slip off to
bed. They will go on until daylight," and there was something in her
face which prevented any questions.
So, cold and sick with apprehension, poor Tamara crept to her room,
and, dismissing her weary maid, sat and rocked herself over her fire.
What horrible thing had occurred?
What was the meaning of that thin stream of blood?
CHAPTER XV
Tamara and her godmother did not meet until nearly lunchtime next day.
A little before that meal the Princess came into her room. Tamara was
still in bed, perfectly exhausted with the strain of the night. The
Princess wore an anxious look of care, as she walked from the window to
the dressing table and then back again. Finally she sat down and took
up a glove which was lying on a cushion near.
"Tamara, you saw I talked last night with Valonne, and this morning I
sent for Serge Grekoff, but he would not come, so I got Valonne again."
She paused an instant. "I was extremely worried last night about
Gritzko. I dare say you were not to blame, dear, but--"
"Please tell me, Marraine," and poor Tamara sat up and pushed her hair
back.
"It appears, as far at I can gather, they all dined at the Fontonka
house--Boris Varishkine and Gritzko have always been great friends--and
at the end of dinner--Valonne imagines, because no one is sure what
took place between them at this stage--Gritzko, it is supposed, said to
Boris in quite an amiable way that he did not wish him to dance the
Mazurka with you, but to relinquish his right in his--Gritzko's--
favor."
She paused again, and Tamara's eyes fixed themselves in fascinated fear
on her face. The Princess, after smoothing out the glove in her hand
with a nervous energy, went on:
"They had all had quite enough champagne, of course, and apparently
Boris refused, and suggested that they should toss up, and whoever won
the toss should have first shot in the dark."
"Yes," said Tamara faintly.
"You know, dear, our boys are often very wild, and they have a game
they play when they are at the end of their tether for something to do
when quartered in some hopeless outpost--a kind of blind-man's-buff--
only it is all in the dark, and the blind man stands in the middle of
the room and the rest clap hands and then dodge, and he fires his
revolver at the point the sound seems to come from, and the object is
not to get shot. You may have noticed Sasha Basmanoff has no left
thumb? He lost it last year on just such a night."
"Oh! Marraine, how dreadful!" Tamara said.
"It is perhaps not a very civilized game," the Princess continued, "but
we are not discussing that, I am telling you what occurred. Well, from
this point Valonne and the rest were eyewitnesses. Gritzko and Boris,
still laughing in rather a strained way, said they had some slight
difference of opinion to settle, and had decided to do it in the
ballroom, in the dark. I won't go into details of how many steps to the
right or left, the impromptu seconds arranged, only it was settled when
Sasha at one end and Serge at the other should shut the doors they
should both fire, and if in three times neither was shot, both should
give up their claim."
"It is too horrible! and for such a trifle," Tamara said, clutching the
bedclothes, and the Princess went on.
"Valonne said they were both hit in the first round, and all the
company burst into the room. Nothing seemed very serious, and they
laughed and shook hands. So Valonne left to be in time for the ball,
but this morning, he told me, he found Boris Varishkine had had a
shoulder wound which bled very badly and quite prevented his coming,
while Gritzko was shot through the flesh of the right arm, and as soon
as they could bind it up decently, as you know, he came on."
Tamara's face was as white as her pillow. She clasped her hands with a
movement of anguish.
"Oh! Marraine, I am too unhappy," she wailed. "Indeed, indeed, I did
nothing to cause this. You heard me, I only said to Count Varishkine I
was looking forward to the dance. He is impossible, Gritzko. Oh! let me
go home!"
"Alas! my child, what would be the good of that? If you went off
tonight instead of coming to Moscow, it might create a talk; what we
want is to prevent a scandal, to hush everything up. None of these men
will tell, and your name will not be dragged into it. And if we go on
our trip amicably as was arranged it will discountenance rumor. Gritzko
and Boris are quite friends again. And if anything about the shooting
does leak out, if no one has further cause for connecting you with it,
they will generally think it merely one of Gritzko's mad parties. For
heaven's sake let it all blow over, and after Moscow and a reasonable
time, not to appear too hurried, you shall go home."
"But meanwhile, how can I know that he won't shoot at Jack? or do some
other awful thing! He does not love me really a bit, Marraine. It is
all out of pride and devilment because he wants to win and conquer me
and add me to his scalps, and I won't be conquered. I tell you I
won't!" and Tamara clenched her hands.
The Princess did not know what to say, she was not perfectly sure in
her own mind as to Gritzko's feelings, and she was too thoroughly
acquainted with his ways to hazard any theory as to his possible acts.
She felt it might not be fair to assure her godchild that he truly
loved her. She could only think of tiding over matters for the time
being.
"Tamara, dearest, could you at least try to keep the peace on our
trip?" she asked. "Be gentle with him, and do not excite him in any
way."
Tamara buried her face in her pillows, she was too English to be
dramatic and sob; but when she spoke her soft voice trembled a little
and her eyes glistened with tears.
"He is horribly cruel, Marraine," she said.
"Why should he treat me as he does. I won't--I won't bear it."
The Princess sighed.
"Tamara, forgive me for asking you, but I must, I feel I must. Do you--
love him, child?"
Then passion flamed up in Tamara's white face, her secret was her own,
and she would defend it even from this kind friend--so--"I believe I
hate him!" she said.
After a while the Princess left her, they having come to the agreement
that Tamara should do all that she could to keep the peace; but when
she was alone she decided to speak to Gritzko as little as possible
herself, and to ignore him completely. There would be no Boris and no
one to make him jealous. She would occupy herself with Stephen Strong,
and the sight-seeing, and even Sonia's husband, who was a bore and old,
too; but the prospect held out no charms for her. She knew that she
loved him deeply--this wild, fierce Gritzko--more deeply than ever
today, and the tears, one after another, trickled down her pale cheeks.
If there was not a chance of any happiness, at least she must go home
keeping some rag of self-respect. She firmly determined that he should
not see the slightest feeling on her side, it should be restrained or
perhaps capricious even, as his own.
Their train for Moscow started at nine o'clock, and the whole party had
arranged to dine at the Ardácheff house at seven and then go to the
station.
Nothing of the scandal of the night seemed to have transpired, for no
one even hinted at anything about it.
Gritzko was still very pale, but appeared none the worse, and the
atmosphere seemed to have resumed a peaceful note.
The five sleeping compartments reserved for this party of ten were all
in a row in one carriage, and Tamara and the Princess, on the plea of
fatigue, immediately retired to their berths for the night, Tamara not
having addressed a single direct word to Gritzko. So far, so well. But
when she was comfortably tucked into the top berth, and an hour or so
later was just falling off to sleep, he knocked at the door, and the
Princess believing it to be the ticket-collector opened it, and he put
his head in. The shade was drawn over the lamp and the compartment was
in a blue gloom. Tamara was startled by hearing her godmother say:
"Gritzko! Thou! What do you want, dear boy, disturbing us like this?"
"I came to ask you to tie up my arm," he said. "I was practising with a
pistol yesterday, and it went off and the bullet grazed the skin, and
the damned thing has begun bleeding again. I know you are a trained
nurse, Tantine. Serge, who is with me, has tried and made a ridiculous
mess of it, so I brought the bandage to you."
He now pulled back the shade and they saw he was standing there quite
_sans gêne_ in the same kind of blue silk pyjamas Tamara
remembered to have seen once before, and his eyes, far from being
tragic or serious, had the naughtiest, most mischievous twinkle in
them, while he whispered to the Princess and enlisted her sympathy for
his pain.
"Gritzko, dearest child, but you are suffering! But let me see! only
wait in the passage until I have my dressing-gown, and then come in
again."
Tamara now thought it prudent to crouch down in the clothes and
pretend to be asleep, while the kind Princess got up and arranged
herself.
Then with a gentle tap this poor wounded one came in.
Tamara was conscious that her godmother was murmuring horrified and
affectionate solicitations, as she busily set to work. She was also
conscious that Gritzko was standing with his shoulder leant against her
berth. He was so tall he could look at her, in spite of her retirement
to the farthest side, and she was horribly conscious of the magnetic
power exercised by his eyes. She longed quite to open hers, she longed
really to look. She felt so nervous she almost gave a silly little
laugh, but her will won, and her long eyelashes remained resting on her
cheek.
"You darling. You are doing it beautifully!" he presently said, and
then more softly, "I had no idea how pretty your friend is! and how
soundly she sleeps! Do you think I might kiss her, Tantino? I have
always wanted to, only she is of such a severity I have been too
frightened. May I, Tantine?" And his voice sounded coaxing and sweet,
and Tamara felt sure he was caressing the Princess' hair with his free
hand, for that lady kept murmuring.
"Tais toi!--Gritzko--have done! How can I bind your arm if you conduct
yourself so! Not a moment of stillness! Truly what a naughty child--
keep still!" Then she spoke more severely to him in Russian, and he
laughed while he answered, and then presently the bandage was done, and
standing on tip-toe he looked full at Tamara.
"And you think I must not kiss her? Oh! you are a most cruel Tantine!
She is sound asleep and would never know, and it would be just one of
the things which could cool my fever and help my arm."
But the Princess interposed, sternly, and getting really annoyed with
him, he was forced to go. But first he kissed her hand and thanked her
and purred affection and gratitude with his astonishing charm, and the
Princess' voice grew more and more mollified as she said: "There--
there--what a boy! Gritzko, dear child, begone!"
And all this while, with her long eyelashes resting upon her cheek,
Tamara apparently slept peacefully on.
But when the door was safely shut and bolted, the Princess addressed
her.
"You are not really asleep, Tamara, I suppose," she said. "You have
heard? Is he not difficult. What is one to do with him? I can never
remain angry long. Those caresses! Mon Dieu! I wish you would love each
other and marry and go and live at Milasláv, and then we others might
have a little peace and calm!"
"Marry him," and Tamara raised herself in bed. "One might as well marry
a panther in a jungle, it would be quite as safe!" she said.
But the Princess shook her head. "There you are altogether wrong," she
replied. "Once there were no continuous obstacles to his will, he would
be gentle and adoring, he would be as tender and thoughtful as he is to
me when I am ill."
Then into Tamara's brain there rushed visions of the unutterable
pleasure this tenderness would mean, and she said:
"Don't let us talk;--I want to sleep, Marraine."
And in the morning they arrived at Moscow.
CHAPTER XVI
The whole day of the sight-seeing passed with comparative smoothness,
Tamara persistently remained with Sonia's husband or Stephen Strong,
when any moment came that she should be alone with any man.
She was apparently indifferent to Gritzko,--considering that she was
throbbing with interest in his every movement and inwardly longing to
talk to him--she kept up the _rôle_ she had set herself to play
very well. It was not an agreeable one, and but for the inward feverish
excitement she would have suffered much pain.
Gritzko for his part seemed whimsically indifferent for most of the
time, but once now and then the Princess, who watched things as the god
in the car, experienced a sense of uneasiness. And yet she could not
suggest any other line of conduct for Tamara to pursue. But on the
whole the day was a success.
The two young English guests had both been extremely interested in
what they saw. Stephen Strong was an old hand and knew it intimately,
and the whole party was so merry and gay. The snow fortunately had
held, and they rushed about in little sleighs seeing the quaint
buildings and picturesque streets and the churches with their bright
gilt domes. Moscow was really Russian, Prince Solentzeff-Zasiekin told
them, unlike Petersburg, which at a first glance might be Berlin or
Vienna, or anywhere else; but Moscow is like no other city in the
world.
"How extremely good you Russians must be," Tamara said. "The quantities
of churches you have, and everywhere the people seem so devout. Look at
them kissing that Ikon in the street! Such faith is beautiful to see."
"Our faith is our safeguard," her companion said. "When the people
become sufficiently educated to have doubts then, indeed, a sad day
will come."
"They have such grave patient faces, don't you think?" said Stephen
Strong. "It is not exactly a hopeless expression, it is more one of
resignation. Whenever I come here I feel of what use is strife, and
yet after a while they make one melancholy."
They were waiting by the house of the Romanoffs, for their guide to
open the door, and just then a batch of beggars passed, their wild hair
and terribly ragged sheepskins making them a queer gruesome sight. They
craved alms with the same patient smile with which they thanked when
money was given. Misery seemed to stalk about a good deal.
"How could a great family have lived in this tiny house?" Tamara asked.
"Really, people in olden times seem to have been able to double up
anywhere. Pray look at this bedroom and this ridiculous bed!"
"It will prepare you for what you are coming to at Milasláv," Gritzko
said. "A row of tent stretchers for everyone together in the hall!"
Tamara made no answer, she contrived to move on directly he spoke, and
her reply now was to the general company, as it had been all day.
If she had looked back then she would have seen a gleam in his eyes
which boded no peace. She thought she was doing everything for the
best, but each rebuff was adding fuel to that wild fire in his blood.
By the end of the day, after walks through the Treasury and museums,
and what not, and never having been able to speak to Tamara, his temper
was at boiling point. But he controlled it, and his face wore a mask,
which disarmed even the Princess' fears.
Their dinner was very gay, and the Russians asked Lord Courtray what
had impressed him most.
"I like the story of Ivan the Terrible putting his jolly old alpenstock
through the fellow's foot on the stairs when he came with the letter,"
Jack said. "Sensible sort of thing to do. Kept the messenger in place."
Meanwhile Tamara was conversing in a lower voice with Stephen Strong.
"The more you stay in this country, the more it fascinates you," he
said. "And you feel you have got back to some of the fierce primitive
passions of nature. Here, in Moscow, the whole earth must be stained
with wild orgies and blood, and yet they are full of poetry and
romance. Even Ivan the Terrible had his religious side, and every
creature of them believes in the saints and the priests. It is said the
impostor who posed as Ivan's son might have succeeded had he not been
too kind, he showed clemency to Shuisky and his enemies and did not
have them torn to pieces, so the people would not believe he could be
the Terrible's son! And they chased him to that window you remember we
saw in the old palace of the Kremlin and there he had to throw himself
out."
"It makes one wonder what can arise from a history of such horrible
crimes," Tamara said.
"You must not forget that the country is practically three hundred
years behind the times, though," Stephen Strong went on. "No doubt
quite as great horrors marked others if we look at them at an
equivalent stage of development. It is missing this point which makes
most strangers, and many foreign historians, so unjust to Russia and
her people. The national qualities are immeasurably great, but as a
civilized nation they are so very young."
"I believe one could grow to love them," Tamara said. "I have never had
the feeling that I am among strangers since I have been here."
Then she wondered vaguely why Stephen Strong smiled softly to himself.
By the end of dinner, Gritzko's eyes were blazing, and he suggested
every sort of astonishing way to spend the night. But Princess
Ardácheff, as the doyenne of the party, prudently put her foot down,
and insisted upon bed. For had they not a whole morning of sight-seeing
still to do on the morrow, and then their thirty versts in troikas to
arrive at Milasláv. So the ladies all trouped off to rest.
"Leave your door open into my room, Tamara dear, if you do not mind,"
her godmother said. "I am always nervous in hotels--"
"I trust everything is going quietly," she added to herself, "but one
never can tell."
Next day the whole sky was leaden with unfallen snow. Nothing more
strange and gloomy and barbaric than Moscow looked could have been
imagined, Tamara thought. It brought out the gilt domes and the unusual
colors of things in a lurid way.
Their first visit was to the Church of the Assumption, where the
emperors are crowned. Its great beauty and rich colors pleased the
eye. The totally different arrangement of things from any other sort of
church--the shape and the absence of chairs or seats--the hidden altar
behind the doors of the sanctuary--the numerous pictures and frescoed
walls--all gave it a mysterious, wonderful charm, and here again the
two English were struck by the people's simple faith.
"We would catch every sort of disease kissing those Ikons after filthy
ulcerated beggars," Stephen Strong said to Tamara. "But the belief that
only good can come to them brings only good. The study of these people
makes one less materialistic and full of common sense. One puts more
credence in things occult."
A service was just beginning, it was some high saint's day, and the
beautiful singing, the boys' angel voices and the deep bass of the
priests, unaccompanied by any instruments or organ, impressed Tamara
far more in this old temple than the services had done in any of the
St. Petersburg churches.
A peace fell on her soul, and just as the gipsies' music had been of
the devil, so this seemed to come from heaven itself. She felt calmed
and happier when they came out.
After an early lunch they saw from the hotel windows three troikas
drawn up. Two of them Gritzko's, and one belonging to Prince
Solentzeff Zasiekin, who had also a country place in the neighbourhood.
The two, which had come a day or so before from Milasláv, were indeed
wonderful turn-outs. The Prince prided himself upon his horses, which
were renowned throughout Europe.
The graceful shaped sleighs, with the drivers in their quaint liveries
standing up to drive, always unconsciously suggest that their origin
must have been some chariot from Rome.
Gritzko's colors were a rich greenish-blue, while the reins and velvet
caps and belts of the drivers were a dull cerise; the caps were braided
with silver, while they and the coats and the blue velvet rugs were
lined and bordered with sable. One set of horses was coal black, and
the others a dark gray. Everything seemed in keeping with the
buildings, and the semi-Byzantine scene with its Oriental note of
picturesque grace.
"Which will you choose to go in, Madame?" Gritzko asked. "Shall you be
drawn by the blacks or the grays?"
"I would prefer the blacks," Tamara replied. "I always love black
horses, and these are such beautiful ones." And so it was arranged.
"If you will come with Stephen and me, Tantino," the Prince said, "we
shall be the lighter load and get there first. Madame Loraine and Olga
can go with Serge and Lord Courtray, they will take the blacks; that
leaves Valonne for Sonia and her husband. Will this please everyone?"
Apparently it did, for thus they started. It was an enchanting drive
over the snow. They seemed to fly along, once they had left the town,
and the weird bleak country, unmarked by any boundaries, impressed both
Tamara and Jack. And while Tamara was speculating upon its mystical
side, Lord Courtray was gauging its possibilities for sport.
They at last skirted a dark forest, which seemed to stretch for miles,
and then after nearly three hours' drive arrived at the entrance to
Milasláv.
They went through a wild, rough sort of park, and then came in view of
the house--a great place with tall Ionic pillars supporting the front,
and wings on each side--while beyond, stretching in an irregular mass,
was a wooden structure of a much earlier date.
It all appeared delightfully incongruous and a trifle makeshift to
Tamara and Jack when they got out of their sleigh and were welcomed by
their host.
A bare hall, at one side showing discolored marks of mould on the wall,
decorated in what was the Russian Empire style, a beautiful conception
retaining the classic lines of the French and yet with an added
richness of its own. Then on up to a first floor above a low _rez de
chaussée_ by wide stairs. These connecting portions of the house
seemed unfurnished and barren,--walls of stone or plaster with here and
there a dilapidated decoration. It almost would appear as if they were
meant to be shut off from the living rooms, like the hall of a block of
flats. The whole thing struck a strange note. There were quantities of
servants in their quaint liveries about, and when finally they arrived
in a great saloon it was bright and warm, though there was no open
fireplace, only the huge porcelain stove.
Here the really beautiful, though rather florid Alexander I. style
struggled from the walls with an appalling set of furniture of the
period of Alexander II. But the whole thing had an odd unfinished look,
and a fine portrait of the Prince's grandfather in one panel was
entirely riddled with shot!
Some splendid skins of bears and wolves were on the floor, and there
was a general air of the room being lived in--though magnificence and
dilapidation mingled everywhere. The very rich brocade on one of the
sofas had the traces of great rents. And while one table held cigarette
cases and cigar boxes in the most exquisitely fine enamel set with
jewels, on another would be things of the roughest wood. And a cabinet
at the side filled with a priceless collection of snuff boxes and
_bon-bonnières_ of Catherine's time had the glass of one door
cracked into a star of splinters.
Tamara had a sudden sensation of being a million miles away from
England and her family: it all came as a breath of some other life. She
felt strangely nervous, she had not the least notion why. There was a
reckless look about things which caused a weird thrill.
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 | 9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13