The secret spring

I was in the middle of an ancient history lesson with my pupil when the Grand Duke came in. He beckoned to us to sit down and told me not to stop.

I had been speaking to Duke Joachim of Alexander's successors, from the fighting of the Epigones in the streets of Babylon to the victory of Cyropedeon, which established the dynasties of the Lagides and Seleucides after the downfall of Lysimachus. I had been trying to bring before the eyes of my young German prince the grand and tragic figures of Eumenes, chief of the Argyraspides, Polysperschon, Antipates, Antigone Gonates, and Demetrius Poliorcetes. He listened attentively, taking notes with a docility which I should have preferred less abject....

The Grand Duke had sat down, and was also listening. Hypnotized by his grave, intellectual face, it was really to Frederick-Augustus, not the dull-witted Joachim, that my words were addressed. He was my audience as I closed with an attempt to show how the crumbling empires of the Epigones were to facilitate the victory of centralizing Rome.

As at this point I began to show signs of embarrassment, Frederick-Augustus broke in, with a smile:

"Don't let my presence embarrass you if you want to establish a parallel between Rome and Prussia."

It was obviously difficult for me to emphasize, in front of him, the dependence of the princes of the German Confederation on the King of Prussia. I did so, however, and he approved.

"God grant that this dependence," he said, "like the dependence of the powers allied to Rome, may mean the greatness of Germany and the peace of the world."

I ended by giving my pupil a list of the books bearing on my lesson, and mentioned that indispensable work, Droysen's "History of Hellenism."

"But excuse me, monsieur," said the Grand Duke, "is there no French work which can be used instead of Droysen?"

Even at the Sorbonne I had never felt so ashamed to say that there was not.

Eleven o'clock struck.

"Joachim," said the Grand Duke, "you can go. Please stay, Monsieur Vignerte."

We were alone.

"Monsieur," he said in his fine but grave, indeed rather melancholy voice, "you have hitherto had reason to think me sparing of compliments which you must have considered your due. I have always had the bad habit of waiting a long time before expressing opinions. The right moment has now arrived, monsieur. Yesterday, unknown to you, your pupil was examined by a Professor of Kiel University with little predilection for French methods. This professor has had to confess himself astonished at the results you have obtained."

He added, in a tone in which I detected a certain trace of bitterness:

"I know that the harvester deserves all the more praise when he has obtained his harvest from poor soil. Allow me to address my thanks to you today, and express the wish that the hospitality of Lautenburg may be sufficiently attractive to keep you here until you have completed a task so well begun."

"Your Highness's kindness overwhelms me, sir," I replied, deeply moved.

"No," he broke in emphatically, "it is I who am your debtor. I have just heard, Monsieur Vignerte, that you devote part of the little leisure that the education of my son leaves you to a task which is perhaps even more dear to me. This must, of course, be entirely between ourselves. I know the difficulties you must have met with before winning the confidence which I believe the Grand Duchess now extends to you. At first I did not know you well enough to speak more openly of my desire that you should be at her disposal, and try to interest her and save her from the fits of depression and that kind of spiritual disorder which are so fatal to her physical health. You understood, and have succeeded better than I could have hoped. You will thus realize that I am indeed in your debt."

There was so much sorrowful dignity in his voice that I was utterly overcome.

"Sir," I murmured, "I promise you ..."

He held out his hand.

"I don't need promises, monsieur. I know you now, and am certain that you will do everything you can to help the Grand Duchess. There is no better way of justifying my confidence in you. The task will not be always easy, I fear. A woman, especially when she has been stricken by the death of a man she loves, does not preserve that balance of mind of which we men are so proud. Do your best, monsieur." There was silence for a moment; then he continued: "I should add another form of thanks if it were not that any further mark of esteem is superfluous after the one I have given you in speaking as I have done. You must, however, allow me to offer you some recompense for the additional demands I am making upon you. I have just given orders that your salary is to be raised to fifteen thousand marks."

He met my protests with an exclamation.

"Nonsense!" he said, with his most charming smile. "Don't you play bridge every night at five pfennigs a point?"

I was rather late for lunch, and found Professor Cyrus Beck in the thick of a dispute with Kessel. The latter obviously enjoyed teasing the old savant, who had a poor sense of humour and was purple with indignation.

My mind was far too full to pay any attention to what they were saying. I had a vague idea that the professor was explaining that chemistry in the next war would play a more important part than any other arm, and that he, Cyrus Beck, was on the high road to a discovery which would enable an ordinary laboratory and a few retorts to annihilate a whole army corps.

He was furious at Kessel's gibes.

He ended by appealing to me as witness against the Major, asking me to quote the passage in which Renan expresses a wish that the destiny of mankind should be entrusted to a committee of savants armed with a supply of explosives sufficiently strong to blow the earth to smithereens if its inhabitants tried to disobey them.

I admit I had not been listening very carefully. "Certainly," I said. "Allow me, Herr Beck, to ask you something in return."

"By all means."

"Can you tell me what the Kirchhaus is?"

The old man rose. To my intense amazement he glared savagely at me and went out, slamming the door, before I had time to recover from my surprise. I looked at Kessel, but he, usually a model of self-possession and good manners, was literally shaking with laughter.

"What on earth's the matter?" I asked.

"You've fairly put your foot in it," he managed to get out at last. "Poor old chap; did you notice how furious he was? And to think that he had hoped you'd back him up!"

"But what's upset him?" I asked, and my astonishment was so genuine that it was Kessel's turn to be surprised.

"You mean to say you didn't do it on purpose?"

"What?"

"Didn't you ask him what the Kirchhaus was on purpose?"

"I asked him because I didn't know and wanted to," I said, rather nettled.

He looked at me and began to laugh even more hilariously than before.

"Well, if that isn't the best thing I've ever heard! Don't you know what the Lautenburg Kirchhaus is, my friend?"

"Well?"

"Well, good God, it's the asylum!"

The Grand Duchess loved sport in season and out of season. Every now and then she would condescend to hunt foxes or deer by way of entertaining the officers of the 7th Hussars. But her private and peculiar delight was sport in solitude, preferably on a wet and windy day without grooms, attendants or beaters. All she required was a dog and the off-chance. Many an evening have I seen her in her little room making up her own cartridges. The pretty little cylinders, blue, violet, green, yellow, or red, white and blue, were spread out before her on a table, into which the ramrod was screwed. Carefully packing the copper loaders, she gave to each its dose of powder, wad, charge of shot and little piece of white cardboard. When she had rammed all this home, she wrote the number of the charge on each. Hagen was always present on those occasions, and as it was part of his duties, it would have been very difficult to get rid of him. Melusine von Graffenfried, indolent and a poor walker, preferred to stay behind, lying on rugs and smoking her eternal cigarettes. Count Marçais, on the other hand, always came with us. These excursions gave him a chance of showing off his sensational sporting clothes, on which Aurora never failed to compliment him. I must admit he was excellent company, with his high spirits and charming manner. We used to ride out of the castle about two o'clock in the afternoon. The first stage was the Herrenwald. Squirrels swarmed in the trees. Pheasants rose heavily from the ground as we passed. At the bottom of some wooded ravine we could hear the fussy but invisible flight of a woodcock.

Marçais would have preferred to stay there. He liked woodland sport, pheasant shooting in the open with some one beside him to load his gun and point out the game: "A cock on the left, Herr Count," "A hen on your right!"

But this kind of thing was not to the liking of the Grand Duchess Aurora, who detested everything official on such occasions and in any case showed a marked preference for water-fowl.

Soon the stunted trees grew rarer, great wastes of marsh appeared, under a sheen of grey and pale green. The sun above was already a glowing ball, low down on the horizon.

Two servants were waiting for us at a little rustic hut. They took our horses. Marçais had his dog, Dick, a big Auvergne pointer, hard of mouth and apt to range rather far, though it came to heel well. The Grand Duchess's ugly black and red spaniel seemed a kind of dog brother to Taras-Bulba.

In sheer joy Aurora dropped the reins and sprang from her horse. I can still see her opening her "Hammerless" and slipping in the two mauve cartridges. I can still hear the sharp click of the brass rim against the steel of the barrel....

At fifteen, armed with an old fowling-piece, I had already tasted the extraordinary delights of shooting over marsh. When, later, I was in the army, firing at disappearing targets had seemed to me mere child's play compared to the fine right and left at diverging snipe I managed to pull off more than once in those early days.

To the north of Dax there is an immense marsh bounded by the wretched hamlets of Herm and Gourbera. You reach it through a gorge known as "La Cible" because the Emperor's gamekeepers used to shoot there in bygone days.

Here was the same misty waste. How well I remember the soft squish of the wet ground, as if the earth itself were dissolving, and the tall yellow grasses, which are sharp as a knife and cut your hands if you're foolish enough to touch them.

I knew all the birds and beasts, all the varied life of those stretches of mud, treacherous beds of green moss, reed-fringed ponds—the whole great expanse that looks so flat and monotonous.

Like the fair sportswoman of the Volga marshes, I knew all the birds that haunt these wan regions: the black, or water-rail, which hops about in leafless trees; the red-rail, or corn-crake, which runs at lightning speed through the high grass, throws the best dogs off the scent, reduces the sportsman to breathlessness and makes you think you are after a hare, until it suddenly decides to take wing, from which moment it becomes an easy prey, poor, silly thing.

There were many species of duck, which sweep dizzily overhead in their curious oblique and rigid flight; shovellers, pochards, sheldrake, with their pretty red heads; shrill-voiced teal, which fly in couples and have a trefoil of three black feathers on their ruddy breasts.

There were lapwings, black and white, like magpies, which rise up swiftly with their croaking cry and then swoop wildly to earth to dodge your shot.

There were plovers, handsomest of birds, in their golden spring raiment.

And, last and best, there was snipe, queen of the marshes, and the finest and hardest of shots; the jack snipe, smaller than a lark, which has blue and green stripes; the common snipe, which is about the size of a quail, and amazingly timid, and the great snipe, rarest of all, which is as big as a partridge.

With their plaintive, hoarse cry they fly in disconcerting zig-zags at an incredible speed. You aim to the right and when the wind has blown away the smoke you see the little grey bird vanishing in the dim distance on the left.

In the midst of these Hanoverian marshes, so like our marshes of the Landes, Aurora of Lautenburg was even more beautiful than in all her finery at the palace. Wearing a feather toque and huge but shapely top-boots, she jumped as lightly as a bird over the sodden turf. The yellow mist of that water-laden atmosphere seemed to cast a pale mauve halo about her. Marçais shot calmly and well. Little Hagen was fussy and always fired too soon. I was a much better shot than either of these two, but what a poor figure I cut beside the Grand Duchess!

Leaving us the rail and duck, she devoted her attention exclusively to the snipe. Gradually night came down on the watery waste. The sky turned to burnished copper in a last conflagration. The great pools were sheets of green which grew darker and darker. A thin tongue of flame began to leap from the barrel of our guns every time we fired, a tongue which became redder as the darkness grew more intense.

It was the Grand Duchess's hour. Her diabolical spaniel was everywhere at once. We could hear the snipe start up before her and her repeated cries of "Heel!" Neither Marçais, Hagen nor I could see them at all. But Aurora saw them all right; each of her shots brought down a little grey bird.

We would wait for a second. Then out of the darkness came the sound of rustling grass. The spaniel, dripping, black and shining, with his eyes full of phosphorus, suddenly appeared, bearing the dead snipe to his mistress.

It was now quite dark. In the low sky an invisible procession of cranes passed over our heads, with remote, raucous cries. The Grand Duchess took the bird from her dog. We went up. I saw her run her fingers over the poor little body, still warm. No wound could be seen, nothing to reveal the presence of that tiny ball of lead, or the imperceptible black hole whence that little life had fled.

Then, with that inconsequence which is the hallmark of the sportsman, Aurora raised the inert little head to her lips and kissed it.

VI

IT was on Saturday evening, May 16th, 1914, that the Grand Duchess of Lautenburg did me the honour of telling me the story of her life. Let me repeat that story to you, not only because certain of its incidents are absolutely indispensable to a proper understanding of the drama which is fast approaching its climax, but above all because it gives me an exquisite pleasure to open this jewel-case and handle the beautiful, barbaric stones it contains, gems which will always light me through my blackest hour.

Hagen had had to go to a dinner, given by the 7th Hussars, and was not there. It gave me no small pleasure to see that she was always more open with me in his absence, however casually she treated that moody and stubborn adorer.

Reclining on the white bearskin thrown over her chaise-longue, she was dressed that evening in a very loose, light tunic of yellow Turkish silk, embroidered in mauve and silver.

Every now and then she passed her fingers through a bowl of huge roses standing on a low table close by, and we could hear the petals falling softly on the blue carpet.

Melusine, her hair shaken loose, was sitting on the carpet, resting her drooping head on the bare feet of her mistress, which she clasped in her arms from time to time.

From the chair where I was sitting I could see the voluptuous curves of the girl's smooth throat in the opening of her Valenciennes fichu. The window was open behind the drawn curtains, and the night breeze, wafting them apart from time to time, mingled the balmy scents of the Herrenwald with the heady odours of amber, roses and cigarettes.

With her utter indifference to effect or style, Aurora spoke, mixing up three languages and interchanging the French "you," the German third person, and the Russian "thou."

"I expect you know," she began, "that I did not exactly go up in the world when I married. Once a princess, I am now no more than grand-duchess, and though I am allied to the Hohenzollerns my husband's family is not nearly as old as my own.

"I am a Tumene princess. I know, of course, that your western histories say practically nothing about us. But if you went to Samarkand or Kara-Koroum, or indeed no further than Tiflis, you would find in our ancient Mongolian chronicles things that would amaze you as to the antiquity of our origin, and you would realize that your Broglies and Cumberlands are mere parvenus compared with us.

"One Tumene prince was beheaded for his hostility to Yaroslav the Great, and I will go back no further, least I weary you with jaw-breaking names. Another, much later, gave Ivan the Terrible so much trouble that that sovereign preferred to treat with him and sent him magnificent presents, notably an enormous clock with the signs of the zodiac in sapphires. This was not enough, however, to prevent that Tumene's son from assisting the Khan of the Crimea with forty thousand horsemen when he started out to besiege Moscow, in 1571, if I remember rightly.

"You must not think that we were no better than savages because at first we fought against the Czars. Boris Godounov was glad enough of our help against the Tartars, Circassians and Cheremisses. I admit we always preferred fighting against European enemies. It was Alexis Tumene, son-in-law of Peter the Great, who led the great charge at Pultawa. As a reward the Czar ordained that his reforming edicts should not run in Tumene territories. We have at home a portrait in the style of your Mignard representing Alexis in a feathered cap, a golden lambskin, embroidered like a chasuble, and wearing his moustaches long, a fashion which the Czar had forbidden every one else.

"The first Tumene to shave was my great-grand-father, Vladimir. He it was who was nearly shot by the orders of Barclay de Tolly. I don't remember the reason. He was in command of the Astrakhan Cossack Corps who bivouacked in the Champs-Elysées and apparently played the devil there. My great-grandfather did a good deal of looting, but converted his booty into cash which he soon lost at the Palais-Royal. You see he banked on red, and black came up fourteen times running.

"Vladimir's father was at first on excellent terms with Catherine II. When she had had enough of him she made him marry a lady from Anhalt. This was the first time my family had contracted an alliance in this country. I hope I shall close the list. I don't say that to hurt your feelings, Melusine, but really that particular German was stupid and miserly. For instance, of the seven children she gave her husband not one was in her own image. They were all little Cossacks.

"My grandmother came from Erivan. I am told I'm like her, but she was better-looking than I. She was madly in love with my grandfather, and abjured her faith in order to marry him. But before this she adored shooting, which is a long way the finest faith on earth.

"Papa, who will come into my story again, is the second, member of the family to marry a German, and once more a Hohenzollem. But you must hear how it happened. Like his grandfather Vladimir, he was an inveterate gambler. He took an oath to win back everything his grandfather had lost in France. Indeed, he would have utterly ruined himself there, if you ever could ruin yourself with lands as big as six of your departments, Cossacks too numerous to count and flocks and herds which doubled every year.

"He always spent ten months of the year in Paris—he was a member of the Jockey Club—Aix, Nice and every other place to which men of his type resort. It was at Aix that he met my mother. The year was 1882. One evening he was at the Villa des Fleurs with King George of Greece and the Grand Duke Vassily. They had been drinking a good deal and should not have been alone. Then Papa began to pour out scandal about women, swearing that they were all alike and that he, a Tumene prince and obliged to marry to perpetuate his name, had decided to marry any one Fate threw in his way.

"'All right,' said the Grand Duke, 'marry the first woman who comes in here.'

"'Certainly, provided, of course, that she's not married already,' added my father, who was religious.

"'I bet you won't.'

"'How much?'

"'A hundred thousand roubles.'

"'Done.'

"I believe King George of Greece had never had such an amusing time before. Poor man, I was genuinely grieved when he was assassinated six months ago. Just imagine, you two, what a scene it must have been, with those three men waiting for the door to open on her who was to be a Tumene princess, for they knew my father's obstinacy, and that he would marry Queen Pomaré or Madame Dieulafoy rather than lose his bet.

"The first-comer was my mother, the Duchess Eleanor of Hesse-Darmstadt, then aged sixteen, and behind her was her English governess. I still shiver at the thought that, if the Englishwoman had preceded her, Papa would certainly have married her and I should have been much less pretty.

"As it happened Mamma was beauty itself, a blonde Melusine. Perhaps not quite as lovely as you, dear Melusine. I never knew her well, as I was only five when she died. She never managed to make herself at home in our Tartary. I remember how she would shiver in the early autumn evenings at the cry of the curlew in the Volga marshes. Papa was terribly unfaithful to her. She could only weep, and I'm afraid that's just the thing that annoys men most.

"I still cannot understand how any one could fail to be happy in our palace. Please don't think it was a barbarian lair. In 1850 we were visited by a Frenchwoman, and you can read the book she wrote, 'Voyages dans les Steppes de la Caspienne.' It was published in Paris. Her name was Madame Hommaire de Hell, and her husband was an engineer employed on some geodetical mission. You can verify all this in your books. She was received by my grandfather and has given a very full description of the palace.

"This palace is built on an island in the Volga. My ancestors selected the site on account of marauders. The marauders are no more, but the place is as picturesque as ever.

"My earliest memory is the noise of the hooter of the paddle-steamer which plied between us and Astrakhan three times a week. It was an agreeable sound because it meant visitors—the governor, the French Minister, a pleasant individual like Marçais, who brought me dolls and, later on, books. Like a true aristocrat, Papa was never happier than when entertaining company.

"The window of my room looked over the river. I used to watch the wild duck, just like so many little mechanical toys, floating solemnly down the brown waters—especially when my governess, Mlle. Jauffre, droned out the rules about participles: when the complement precedes, it agrees; when it follows.... I would get up quietly, take my long fowling-piece and some 'Number four' and let fly, bang! bang! among the ducks. The servants went out in boats to bring them in. Papa never minded as long as I had killed at least half a dozen. Having told you this, you mustn't be surprised if I make slips in my grammar.

"For the piano I had an Italian professor. He was a republican. He was always trying to explain to us, with a meaning smile, that he was a natural son of Garibaldi. I can only remember his Christian name, Teobaldo. One day, when I was fifteen, he was behind me turning over the pages of some music I was reading, and kissed the back of my neck. I must confess I had encouraged him a little, just to see what he'd do. I burst out laughing. He took that for a responsive thrill and kissed me again. I laughed as if I should never stop. Suddenly Papa came in. I thought I was in for trouble, but the room was dark. He picked up his ramrod, which he had left on the table, and went out. For small game Papa always made his own cartridges, to get a proper spread.

"Next day I was walking with Mlle. Jauffre in a very thick fir copse at the western horn of the island. We almost ran into a long, flabby form, hanging from a cedar. It was poor Teobaldo. Mlle. Jauffre screamed and fled. I turned him round by the feet to have a good look. Then I fled also, as fast as I could. His black, swollen tongue was hanging out over his tie. His eyes were dead white and fat flies were already as busy on him as on a rotten apple. Perhaps the most horrible thing was that he had the same expression as when he was kissing me. Since then I have always loathed men.

"It was about this time that I became melancholy through reading the 'Demon' of Lermontoff, who is a much greater poet than your Vigny, or even Byron. I was very pale and there were scarlet flushes on my cheeks. A doctor came from Astrakhan. Between ourselves I managed to bribe him, and he ordered me to take the waters of Piatigorsk. That was exactly what I wanted, for you no doubt remember that it was at Piatigorsk that Lermontoff was killed in a duel.

"The 'waters' of Piatigorsk are a series of waterfalls where the stream leaps over walls of black granite and glittering mica. That sounds very impressive, but at the end of a week I was so thoroughly bored that my cure was complete.

"I don't believe I should ever have lasted out the fortnight Papa had decreed if I hadn't made the discovery of an extremely picturesque old Frenchman who gained his living at Piatigorsk by acting as guide to foreigners on their expeditions in the mountains. He was a political criminal. I rather think he had been a friend of Vaillant. Anyhow, he had been exiled from France in Carnot's time, and, like every one else, had taken refuge in Russia.

"He was a learned old fellow, but he had some peculiar ideas. I took a particular liking to him, mainly because Mlle. Jauffre used to throw up her hands and wail: 'What would His Highness say!' every time he spoke to me of folk I'd never heard of before: Saint-Simon, Enfantin, Bazard, Karl Marx, Lassalle and the Iron Law. Heaven knows what else!

"I had never read any Tolstoy. The old man lent me 'Resurrection.' I never knew such a world existed. I had Tolstoy's social creed expounded to me, to tease Mlle. Jauffre. The old man was jubilant. 'Oh, mademoiselle! If only you would, what a chance!'

"The result was that when we left Piatigorsk I took old Barbessoul (for that was his name) back with me. Papa was certainly somewhat astonished to see the patriarch in our train, but, as I looked so well, said nothing. To tell the truth, he was used to my caprices.

"He did more. Quite close to the island in the Volga on which the palace stood was another small island, perhaps a square half-verst in area. Papa gave it to me, and with it fifty moujiks, men, women and children. There, under the old man's direction, I set up a socialist community, half Saint-Simon, half Tolstoy: no private property, division of the instruments of labour according to needs and capacities, etc., etc.

"At first all went well. I spent four hours a day in my socialist paradise. Old Barbessoul was triumphant. His part in the organization was something between priest and foreman. Papa thought I was mad.

"You won't be surprised to hear I had soon had enough of it, if only because things began to go wrong. Feeling safe under my protection, the members of the community used to go out in boats at night to rob the hen-roosts of the riverside farmers. Papa had very kindly consented to relieve them of taxation and compulsory labour. It was perfectly alarming the amount of kwass they drank. Old Barbessoul was the only one who couldn't perceive how strongly they smelt of drink, even the women. Why, after two months, one of them found himself the possessor of all the agricultural implements. All the others had pawned them to get kwass. Then, as they could not work, they loafed about all day and spent the night robbing the neighbouring peasants. One night there was a regular battle. Two moujiks were killed. Papa was wild with rage, called me a silly fool, and wanted to hang old Barbessoul. On my entreaties he refrained, but the community was broken up.

"That was my last experiment with Socialism. It is certain that if it had not been for Papa's Cossacks all those folk would have cut each other's throats.

"One day in February, 1909, when I was just on twenty, I was shooting duck from a boat in a branch of the Volga when I saw on the bank Papa's favourite Cossack signalling wildly with his cap on the end of his sabre.

"He was shouting as well, though I couldn't hear him. I gathered that something must have happened at home, but I wanted to appear indifferent in spite of my burning curiosity to know what all the fuss was about. I only put in to the bank an hour later, when the poor man was almost dead with waving his arms and shouting so much. He told me the Prince wanted me in his study. I took as long as I could getting there, anticipating a good lecture.

"I got nothing of the kind. Papa seemed radiant about something. He kissed me, then, showing me a large envelope with red seals on his bureau, he told me what it was about.

"It was a letter to Papa from the Czar. It informed him that in May the Emperor William was to visit St. Petersburg and that there would be great celebrations, ending up with a review at Tsarskoïe-Selo; that he therefore wished the Astrakhan and Aral Cossacks to be represented, and begged the Tumene Prince to bring a brigade with him. 'The Czarina,' he added, 'will be glad to make her little niece's acquaintance on this occasion.' I had forgotten to tell you that I was her niece, owing to Papa's marriage with a Grand-Duchess of Hesse-Darmstadt.

"I can assure you that I had never found the days long in our Volga palace, yet, as I listened to my father, I must confess to a feeling of joyous excitement, and from that moment I had only one idea—to astonish the Czar, the Czarina, the German Emperor and, indeed, the whole world. I spent days on end looking into my glass, and admit that I was not altogether displeased with what I saw there.

"Hitherto I had had my clothes made at Astrakhan by Menjuzan Sœurs, excellent French dressmakers who visited Paris once a year for their models and did good business with fashionable Circassian society. Papa gave me unlimited credit and two days later I left with Mlle. Jauffre. But I must tell you I had a scheme of my own.

"I came back from Astrakhan and told him I could find nothing at all. I wept all over him and vowed I would never appear at Court dressed like a savage. You can imagine that I had no intention of missing such a splendid opportunity of seeing Paris. Papa took a good deal of persuading, but I soon realized he wouldn't be sorry to see his old friends there again.

"We left early in March. My one fear when we arrived in Paris, of which my head was full, was to betray any sort of astonishment, and that is no doubt why my manner was somewhat affected.

"Papa lost no time in finding out that he had a whole mass of visits and engagements. He only put in an appearance at the 'Ritz' for meals and not always for them.

"He wanted me to go to Redfern, but I chose Doucet, out of perversity. I have never seen anything more absurd than Mlle. Jauffre, in her pince-nez and black satin gown, smothered in jet, standing among the lovely girls who bowed to me and walked up and down to help me to choose.

"I was asked: 'What does your Highness require?'

"'Everything,' I replied coldly.

"In a twinkling I had ordered six evening gowns, twelve tailor-mades, two riding-habits, and everything else on the same scale.

"Nothing was décolleté enough for my taste. Mlle. Jauffre was green in the face. The head saleswoman took it upon herself to tell me it was rather risqué for a young lady. I told her to get on with the fitting. Besides, Papa appeared on one occasion and approved my choice. He gave me a proud look that made me altogether happy, for I knew what a good judge he was.

"That evening he must have had a twinge of conscience at leaving me so much to myself, for he told me we were to dine together and instructed Mlle. Jauffre to bring me to Laurent's in the Avenue Gabriel at eight o'clock to the minute. I need hardly say that at eight o'clock no one was there. I sat down on a form and waited. To while away the time I drew out the little inlaid dagger I carried in my belt and cut my initials on the bench. I expect they're still there.

"At ten minutes past eight, seeing an old gentleman hovering round us and feeling the need of a little dissipation, I told Mlle. Jauffre to go out to the tobacco kiosk in the Avenue Matignon and buy me a box of Mercédès. She demurred at first, but ultimately went. The old man then came up to me. He had check trousers and a grey felt hat. He began a very entertaining conversation and mentioned a little flat in the Rue d'Offémont and a lift hung with tapestry curtains. I turned my head to hide my uncontrollable laughter and was all the more astonished to hear a resounding smack. When I turned round I saw Papa. The old gentleman beat a dignified retreat, murmuring something about having a little joke. In the moonlight I noticed that his grey hat had been badly battered.

"Mlle. Jauffre came back with the Mercédès. Papa told her frigidly to return to the 'Ritz' for dinner, and go to bed.

"Laurent's is a place where you dine outside at little lamp-lit tables under the beautiful trees. The place was crowded. Papa was far more at home there than in our Volga palace. He introduced me to lots of celebrities: Bunau-Varilla, Charles Derennes, Monsieur de Bonnefon, Princess Lucien Murat, Maurice Rostand. I took a great fancy to Rostand, with his choir-boy's face and manner. We still write to each other, and he's coming to see me at Lautenburg.

"At eleven o'clock Papa took me back to the 'Ritz' and told me he had to call at the Embassy in the Rue de Grenelle. You don't suppose I felt like going to bed! Mlle. Jauffre was snoring like a Nüremberg top, and I thought I should never wake her. You should have seen her look of amazement when I told her that she must get up as Papa had arranged to meet us at midnight.

"We took a taxi in the Rue de la Paix. Grelot I told the driver. I had heard the name at Laurent's.

"Le Grelot is in the Place Blanche. I don't suppose, dear friend, that a serious student like you has ever been there. When we went in I was a little jealous of the chorus of approval that greeted Mlle. Jauffre's spangled gown. A little roué, hopelessly drunk, called out that it was Madame Fallières. Then the whole assembly rose as one man and sang the chorus of a well-known song:

"I laughed as if I should never stop, and my high spirits infected everybody—they had looked bored to extinction when we first entered.

"We drank champagne—unlimited champagne. Then we danced. I just showed those Frenchmen what a Russian princess could do. The only man who could waltz properly with me was a member of the Hungarian band. We received a tremendous ovation.

"A negro in the orchestra invited Mlle. Jauffre to dance. You may find it hard to believe, but she accepted. After all that champagne she was a different woman. Two dancing girls came and sat by me. One of them, Zita, a dark girl, wore a dress of blue and silver; the other, 'The Shrimp,' was all in pink and called me 'Princess,' not knowing that I was one. They ate my food and drank my champagne. I was in the seventh heaven and murmured, rather excitedly: 'Paris is lovely, lovely!'

"I suddenly noticed that many of these poor girls had darns in the heels of their silk stockings just above their patent shoes, so I called out and threw a handful of louis into the air. They scrambled for them and found them all with the exception of five or six, on which some of the most elegant of the gentlemen had neatly put their feet.

"I think I should have stayed there all night if I had not suddenly heard loud shouts in the next room.

"'Lili, Lili, here's Lili! Vive Lili!'

"I looked up and saw Papa coming in. It was he whom they called 'Lili,' obviously derived from his Christian name, Vassily.

"He, too, was in the highest spirits. On each arm was a girl, handsome enough to make me feel thoroughly jealous.

"He was far too busy to see me. I lost no time in making preparations to go, but it proved a terrible business getting Mlle. Jauffre away. She was exceedingly loth to leave her negro. In the taxi she sang at the top of her voice:

"Then, without warning, she leaned out of the window and began to weep vigorously, complaining that I had not shown her sufficient respect.

"Papa had a bill from Doucet for thirty-eight thousand six hundred francs. He did not demur, and I gathered that his daughter's requirements had as a matter of fact been less formidable than those of other ladies—a thought which disgusted me not a little.

"When we got back to Russia, we found another letter from the Czar, telling Papa that the Kaiser's arrival at St. Petersburg was fixed for May 15th, so that we ought to make our arrangements at once.

"I could give you no idea of the gorgeous way in which he fitted out his brigade. The Astrakhan Cossacks wear the Armenian high black cap, something like a sugar-loaf, red coats edged with fur, and yellow bandoliers. The Aral Cossacks have sky-blue coats, white bandoliers, and wear the round Kalmuck busby, two feet in diameter, from which they derive their nickname of 'Bigheads.' They carry the curved sabre, on which the Aral Cossacks, who are Mohammedans, engrave verses of the Khoran, a whip with lead balls, and a long lance.

"Papa had all the woollen facings replaced by others of gold and silver. He reviewed his squadrons one day towards the end of April when the early crocus was peeping shyly forth. There was only a pale yellow sun, but it was quite enough to make those superb warriors look so magnificent that we could easily imagine what they would be like in the brilliant May sunshine at Tzarskoïe-Selo.

"There was nearly a catastrophe the day they left for Petersburg. You must remember that these simple folk, who fear neither man nor whirlwind, spirits of marsh nor spirits of flood, stand in mortal terror of railways. Their horses share that emotion. Half of them had been bundled in when they suddenly caught sight of the squat little engine, puffing and blowing, in the middle of the steppe. Not one of them would have moved if the priest had not turned up and blessed this strange animal.

"We got them off at last in twelve trains, which took twelve days to cross Great Russia. We ourselves were travelling by the express, so we only had to leave the palace a week later. The Czar had a special Pullman car put at our disposal. We invited the two colonels and the six majors to join us. The priest was with Mlle. Jauffre and Kunin, Papa's favourite Cossack. I had put them in charge of my wardrobe.

"Petersburg is a splendid city, with barracks, churches and fine gardens. You can see that the man who laid it out had a definite scheme in mind. We were housed royally at the Winter Palace and had a private audience of the Czar the night we arrived. 'Hello! so this is the little niece,' he said, and I could see he thought me pretty. The Czarina kissed me and called the Grand Duchesses, my cousins, in order to introduce us. I gave Olga and Tatiana each a necklace of Caucasian rubies, which seemed to have a diamond tear inside, and for the little girls there were necklaces of pink pearls. Papa had brought the Czarevitch an aigrette buckle, made out of one huge diamond, for his kolbach, and a little Cossack sword with the hilt set in sapphires and brilliants.

"Two days later all the bells of the capital announced the arrival of the Kaiser. The Czar, the Czarevitch and the Grand Dukes went to Kronstadt to meet him.

"Since then I have seen so many royal entries into various cities that the memory of this particular occasion has gradually faded entirely from my mind. But that doesn't matter. It was a magnificent spectacle.

"I witnessed the arrival at the palace from my balcony. The White Cuirassiers, with the Grand Dukes, rode up to the gates. The honours were rendered by the Preobrajensky guards. All this time Papa's Cossacks were installed in two barracks and forbidden to leave them. This annoyed me at first until I learned, as I soon did, that it was because they were the finest in all the Russias and the Czar was reserving them jealously for the grand finale.

"Under the soft, fleecy sky of Bothnia the breastplates and sabres sparkled with blue and gold.

"The Kaiser was with the Czar, the Czarevitch and the Crown Prince in the first carriage. He was wearing the uniform of a colonel of the Russian Cuirassiers, with the golden eagle on his silver helmet. He saluted frequently and wore a happy smile. Frederick William was wearing the uniform of the Black Hussars.

"The Empress and the Czarina came next, with a host of German princes and generals.

"The introductions seemed as if they would never come to an end. I had my little success. 'So this is the little niece,' said the Kaiser, taking my hand and leading me to the Empress. The motherly old hen kissed me from beneath her lace and ostrich plumes, and told me how much she loved my poor Mamma. I was still the 'little niece' to them all. Meanwhile Frederick William and Adalbert did stare, I can tell you! Adalbert is a fine young man, but he looks pig-headed and sly. I prefer the Crown Prince, who looks full of mischief. I can tell you Germany won't be dull when he succeeds his father.

"I spent the whole afternoon getting ready for the banquet in the evening. I was so afraid I shouldn't make an impression that I got quite irritable and would have quarrelled with Mlle. Jauffre for two pins. It was almost as if I had a presentiment of all the evils that were to come upon me as a result of that cursed evening.

"You can have no idea what a gorgeous affair a fête at the Peterhof is. The Kaiser had donned another uniform, even more striking than the first. But you should have seen his face when he saw Papa's!

"His uniform was not to be compared to that of the Tumene Prince. The Empress's diamonds looked like the tawdry gewgaws of a suburban housewife by the side of the brilliants on the chain which secured his scarlet cloak at the left shoulder.

"When I went in I saw the Czar repress his astonishment. For one moment I thought I must be too décolleté. Then this fear vanished as I realized the impression I was making. You must remember I had secured Doucet's admitted chef d'œuvre, a gown of sapphire velvet, made very simply, but closely moulded to the form, and my jewellery consisted of nothing but sapphires. Child as I was, I was already anticipating my next day's success. 'But what will they say,' I said to myself, 'when they see my Number 2, the red gown with nothing but rubies!'

"We danced. I was amused to see the Germans, accustomed to their slow waltz, miss the beat of our rapid Russian waltz and put in a couple of hops—or stand like herons—to catch up again.

"I danced with the Crown Prince. He complimented me on my dress and said that the German Emperor was not an absolute monarch, as he'd never been able to make his Court ladies do with less than six colours in their gowns. I wanted to irritate him, so I replied that it was not surprising, and that mine came from Paris. But he said I was right and there was no place like Paris. With those priceless grimaces which are quite his own he told me a whole heap of risqué stories about Paris, and as he took me back to my place I heard the old hen murmur in his ear: 'Now, Fritz, behave!'

"At the same moment she beckoned to me to go and sit beside her.

"That morning I had noticed among the officers of the Kaiser's entourage a tall Hussar in a scarlet uniform with yellow facings. He had sandy hair and fine eyes, his blue, insistent eyes of a short-sighted man. He had had his eyeglass fixed on me the whole time, but of course I was careful to pretend I noticed nothing. I should have been astounded then if any one had told me that one day I should be wearing that scarlet uniform myself.

"'Aurora,' the Empress said, 'this is my cousin Rudolph, Grand Duke of Lautenburg-Detmold. He wants a dance with you.'

"The red Hussar danced atrociously, though he made the most superhuman efforts. He thought he ought to apologize, but I gave him no reply and not even a word of thanks when the dance ended. He resumed his place behind the Empress and wiped his eyeglass from time to time, looking miserable enough to melt a stone.

"The next day I was delighted to hear that there was to be some fox-hunting two days later. How thankful I was to have brought Taras-Bulba, my wicked little Barbary horse, with me! I went to see him at the barracks where our Cossacks were. He had behaved so outrageously that he had been shut up by himself in a stable—the door of which he'd nearly smashed to pieces on his way in.

"When he saw me he whinnied rapturously and soon bolted the sugar I had brought him.

"'You've just got to show what you can do,' I said, running my hand through his long, thick mane. 'We'll leave them all behind, won't we?'

"He nodded amiably to show he'd understood, and I went out to try on my riding-habit.

"When I reached my room I found Papa there, looking calm but radiant. I always loathe surprises. They are sure to be unpleasant.

"I saw that Papa didn't know how to begin, and that in itself made me suspicious.

"'You must hurry,' I said. 'I have to dress.'

"'My daughter,' he said, 'I have something important to say to you.'

"'That is no reason why you shouldn't hurry up.'

"'My daughter, how would you like to be a Queen?'

"'Queen of what?'

"'Würtemberg.'

"We may have been brought up among savages, but I know my Gotha. So I asked Papa if he wanted me to marry the King of Würtemberg, who was then sixty-two.

"'It is not His Majesty the King of Würtemberg who has done me the honour to ask your hand. It is His Highness the Grand Duke of Lautenburg-Detmold.'

"Papa is a prince himself, and to hear him mouthing 'Majesties' and 'Highnesses' drove me crazy.

"'What!' I cried. 'The boiled lobster? Never!'

"'Let's be serious,' said my father.

"'Never,' I repeated, stamping my foot. 'Besides, I don't see the connection between this short-sighted red-beard and the crown of Würtemberg.'

"'It's this,' said my father magisterially. 'King Albert of Würtemberg has no children. He is sixty-two, as you correctly observed, and a martyr to diabetes. The Grand Duke of Lautenburg is his heir.'

"'I don't care,' I replied. 'I'd rather marry Kunin, and, besides, I don't want to marry at all.'

"Papa began to lose his temper. He came out with the whole story. Rudolph of Lautenburg was madly in love with me. He had spoken to the Empress, his godmother, who had spoken to the Kaiser, who had spoken to the Czar, who had just spoken to him. Hints of this kind, flattering though they are, are virtually orders, and...

"'You consented, without waiting to ask me?' I broke in.

"'Not exactly,' he replied in some confusion, 'but, after all, what could I do but thank him and consent ...'

"'Consent to what!'

"'Consent to—oh, something which commits you to nothing. I agreed that the Grand Duke should be your companion at the meet the day after tomorrow.'

"'If that's all,' I said, 'you can rely on me to make this German sorry he ever came to Russia for an heiress.'

"'Promise me to be nice,' begged my father in alarm. 'You make me regret I have given you so much liberty. Remember it's a question of a royal crown. Neither more nor less.'

"A crown! To see his daughter a queen! That was all the old Kalmuck thought about.

"That evening as I was entering the car to go to the gala performance I was made to realize that Papa had committed me much further than he had dared admit.

"'Here's our little fiancée,' said the Kaiser, taking my hand.

"The Empress, more the brood hen than ever, kissed me on the forehead. It appears that this is a family mania.

"And so it went on up to the Czar, who remarked to the Kaiser, with one of his sad smiles:

"'So you're not satisfied with flooding me with your subjects, but must needs come to take away mine!'

"I put on my frankest smile, but cast many a sidelong glance at my red Hussar, who didn't know what to do. I said to myself:

"'You wait a bit, my fine fellow! You'll be paid out for this the day after tomorrow!'