As George whipped back to his post, I moistened my lips. Then I took a deep breath and opened the door.
Brooch came in, peering.
In a flash I had the salver and was proffering what he had lost.
For a moment he stared at the glasses: then, with a grunt of satisfaction, he picked them up.
“That’s right,” he said agreeably, blinking up into my face. “It was you that found them last time, wasn’t it?”
I dared not reply, but bowed: but he seemed to expect no answer and left at once.
I shut the door behind him and wiped the sweat from my face…
When another half-hour had gone by, but no one had ‘rung’, I began to dare to hope that until the morning came we should not be disturbed. I, therefore, caught George’s eye, and he came to my side.
Hastily we whispered together.
It was no good our looking for Rowley for several hours, for he had some twenty miles to cover on foot, and since one could watch the hall and another was only needed in case Grimm had to be fetched, we arranged that George should lie down and take what rest he could. This, of course, on the carpet and by my side, so that at a touch of my slipper he could be instantly afoot. When he had rested I could lie down in my turn, and when my spell was over one of us could relieve Bell. In this way all three of us would enjoy some relaxation – if you can call it such.
The immediate strain had lessened, but the thought of the morrow made my blood run cold. Grimm and his son would be rested and so better able to keep us in countenance, but the sergeant-footman would be frequently with the Prince, and his son could not be expected never to leave the hall. Even if he stood at the door for twelve hours on end, any moment some crisis might arise which he could not control. The lad was pleasant and was by no means a fool: but he had not the ready wit of Rowley or Bell: what was worse, he would see no danger and smiled at our apprehension that anything might go wrong –
anything…
For one thing only, one or other of the lords-in-waiting was on duty from nine in the morning till nine at night. And that in the corridor. If he happened to ask us a question, in case our speech should betray us, neither George nor I could reply, while Bell, who knew no German, could not so much as obey the simplest command.
For another, from ten o’clock to midday, distinguished subjects and personal friends of the Prince would be brought to an antechamber, there to learn from the lips of the lord-in-waiting the latest news. For those two hours, therefore,
another door would have to be manned
.
Three doors
, not counting the back door – where orderlies would render ‘parade states’ and copies of the ‘orders of the day’, and messengers and postmen would deliver dispatches and mails…
Four doors between four footmen, three of whom were play-acting and had never rehearsed their parts.
These things considered, I think I may be forgiven for, as the saying is, seeing a robber behind every bush.
Over all lowered, as ever, the cloud of Time. How many hours would go by before Johann discovered that the footmen that he had been using had been replaced?
I wrenched my thoughts from the future and turned to the past, and while I remembered the mountains and the cow-bells and the brush of the Grand Duchess’ lips, I tried to pretend that the telltale was a tail-lamp which had gone out.
The next day stands out of my memory as high hills stand out at sundown after the rain.
I think any one of us three could set down the whole of its burden, quarter by quarter of an hour, and never make one mistake.
To say that time seemed to drag conveys nothing at all. There were moments when I could have sworn that the clock in the sober hall was standing still. Ten minutes seemed an hour; an hour, eternity: and this unkind illusion far more than doubled the strain which was fretting our nerves.
This was continuously heavy.
We could not take counsel together – each had to act for himself when the moment came: while he sought to foresee some crisis and settle the line he must take, another would spring upon him, demanding immediate action so that the brain boggled at the issues with which it was faced: yet the demeanour of a statue must be deliberately preserved.
For myself, I lived and moved as a man in some frightful dream in which nothing seemed to happen which did not set the nerves tingling or fill the heart with dismay; and, while I am properly ashamed of this disorder, I sinned in good company, for George Hanbury always declares that twice in that day he made up his mind to tell me that he could not go on and that Rowley must be brought from the passage to take his place. This, I think, shows that our plight – which was really more delicate than dangerous – was made to appear more horrid by some malignant means, and I am inclined to lay the blame upon the telltales, for their sudden, noiseless illumination smacked of the supernatural and their sinister likeness to signals of danger was most importunate.
Since, however, the tale of our troubles would fill up a book, I will pass over most of the duty we tried to do and only relate such events as bear upon our endeavour to bring Duke Paul to the throne.
The apartments were swept and garnished by seven o’clock. At that hour, by my request, Grimm opened the door to the passage, and there was Rowley asleep.
He reported that all was well, so I told him to stay where he was and take his ease, holding himself ever ready to seek the Grand Duchess and Sully according to the plan we had laid.
This plan was not at all to my liking, but the devil was driving, and we could think of no better, try as we would.
When the Prince was seen to be sinking, Rowley would run to the Lessing Strasse and give the alarm. At once the Grand Duchess would telephone to Duke Paul. Rowley would run on to Sully’s and give him his news and would then repair to Duke Paul’s. There he would await the Grand Duchess and Madame Dresden, who, sure to be the first ready, would call for the Duke. Rowley would escort the three to the passage and up to the suite, where Sully would be already, for he had less distance to go.
Such was our miserable scheme. And there I will leave it, for its faults need no pointing out and cannot be diminished by any argument.
At a quarter to nine came Kneller, and at nine the three physicians visited the Prince. They had been gone some ten minutes when Sully arrived.
The Lord President entered quickly, and I saw that his nerves were on edge. Young Grimm admitted him, and I was standing beside the bedchamber’s door.
At once Kneller came to meet him and seemed very anxious to please, but Sully, though courteous as ever, was very grave and, while he listened to Kneller, made little or no reply.
So soon as he decently could, he turned to the door upon which I was waiting to knock, but the lord-in-waiting turned with him and the two approached me together, side by side.
This was the last thing I wanted. In Sully’s philosophy sensation had no part, and I feared very much that my appearance would discompose my old tutor and that Kneller would remark not only his discomposure, but the source from which it sprang.
I had knocked and was standing, waiting, when I noticed the beads of sweat upon Sully’s brow.
My summons was not answered at once, because, I suppose, the nurses were somehow engaged, and the three of us stood together for the longest minute that I have ever known.
Sully stared upon the carpet, I strained my ears for the sound of the nurse’s approach, and Kneller put up an eye-glass and surveyed me from head to foot.
I suppose this was natural. The man had held many inspections and had an eye for precision in matters of dress. But his scrutiny was very trying, and I was mortally afraid that he would find something about me which belied the lackey.
At last the door was opened, and Sully passed in.
Kneller turned on his heel and strolled down the hall.
Now it was most important that Sully should be put in possession of the plan I have already set out. It had been arranged, therefore, that when he had seen the Prince, Grimm should conduct him from the sick-room by way of the service door, that so he might speak with George, before returning to the hall by the way he had come. It follows that Sully’s reappearance was something delayed, and Kneller, who was waiting to waylay him, more than once glanced at the clock.
At last the door was opened, and Sully emerged.
“Is he speaking?” said Kneller. “I mean—”
“With difficulty,” said Sully slowly. “He – he wishes you sworn of the Council as soon as may be.”
Kneller started, and I saw his hand fumble for his glass.
“But surely he knows—”
“Oh, yes,” said Sully. “He knows that he will not be there.
He wishes you sworn at the first Council held by Duke Paul
.”
What more was said I did not hear, but Kneller’s ears were crimson and his hands were very busy behind his back. Indeed, it was very plain that his withers were wrung, for for the rest of the day he never sat down, but constantly paced the corridor, frowning and blowing through his nose and pulling his heavy moustache. I began to have hope that Kneller might be reclaimed.
Little more than half an hour later George came to say that the door of the south antechamber must now be manned and that young Grimm must mind the back door, because the sergeant-footman had been called to the Prince.
Argument was not to be thought of, but the hall might have been a scaffold upon which we three poor wretches were going to strut.
Two minutes later Bell had taken my place, George was at the door from the staircase, and I stood to that of the antechamber, salver in hand.
It was the practice of visitors to present their cards: these the footman accepted and took to the lord-in-waiting, who immediately repaired to the antechamber and spoke with whoever was there.
Thirty-four visitors paid their respects that day.
I do not know why I had not expected Madame Dresden. As the Grand Duchess’ lady-in-waiting, she called at the palace daily. I never knew this nor had given the matter a thought, but at half past ten that morning I was looking into her eyes.
The sentries were watching us, and I was greatly afraid that either she or I had shown some sign of surprise, and, to tell the truth, I can remember no more until I heard her greet Kneller and ask for news.
It was approaching midday when I heard a sound in the antechamber which even the massive mahogany could not shut out – the sharp smack and jingle of heavy spurred heels.
The sentries had sprung to attention.
Now they had not saluted Kneller, and though several officers had called, they had paid them no compliments. This, no doubt, was in order, for the men’s manner was very punctilious and, so far as I had seen, they never moved a muscle, but only their eyes.
For an instant my brain faltered. Then the truth leaped into my mind.
It was the Duke Johann.
There is a Latin saying that those whom God will destroy He first sends mad. Dully I acknowledged the truth of the saw. That we had not foreseen that Johann would present himself argued that George and I were out of our minds.
Instead of watching the telltale, I looked round helplessly.
George Hanbury’s door was open. He seemed to be receiving some message from someone without. Bell was watching him closely, ready, no doubt, to go for one of the Grimms. Of the two, George was the nearest, and he was twenty paces away. The lord-in-waiting was staring out of the window six paces from where I stood.
I made a frantic effort to marshal my wits.
For Johann to set eyes upon me was clearly dangerous. He would not know me from Adam, but he might very well know that Grimm had dismissed three footmen the night before. And if he knew young Grimm by sight… Again, the Duke Johann had need of no visiting card. I should have to announce his presence – and I dared not trust my voice.
Suddenly I remembered the telltale.
This was dull, but I had no means of knowing whether it had lighted or no.
I dropped my salver.
When I had picked it up, I saw that the telltale was glowing – to my disordered mind as never before.
Kneller had turned and was staring. He was clearly a martinet. A footman’s salver to him was the trooper’s sword.
There was nothing for it – I went up to Kneller and bowed.
“My lord,” I mumbled, “will speak with the Duke Johann?”
God knows what he thought of my accent, but my voice was husky with emotion, and maybe that covered it up.
In any event he followed me back to the door, and I swung this open directly and shut it as soon as I dared.
His manner was so hostile that I made sure that on returning he would take me to task, but I think that his speech with Johann put my failings out of his mind, for when he re-entered the hall he did not seem to see me, and, very soon after, Brooch came to his relief and he went away.
One ordeal we were spared, and that was a visit from Duke Paul. As I have said, he had the right of entry into the hall itself: but though he had been in the habit of coming to inquire for his great-uncle, if not of visiting the Prince, Sully had stopped these visits when Johann took command of the Body Guard. Again by Sully’s advice, the Grand Duchess stayed away: and though she had a lady-in-waiting who could come in her stead, no male of the royal house, except the Prince, was accorded the honour of a regular equerry.
For the next three hours our hands were not quite so full, but we had no sort of respite, and even the wretched meal we tried to make was so much interrupted that at last we cared not whether we ate or no.
Here let me say that the Prince’s sickness was accounting for this grievous load of duty, which I think twelve footmen could have conveniently shared. When he was well, the Prince, who was vigorous, was out of the palace for the greater part of his day, so that four footmen, although occasionally pressed, had, in the ordinary way, leisure to spare.
Kneller returned to duty at three o’clock – to my inquietude, for, compared with him, Brooch was benevolence itself. The latter’s eyes and ears were none too keen, and the one or two orders he gave me were pleasantly given and easy enough to fulfil. What was more, he spent his time reading, but, as I have said, Kneller was very restless and never sat down. Indeed, if Bell had known German, I should have done my best to keep out of Kneller’s sight; for I knew he had not forgiven me for letting fall my salver or for bungling my announcement of the presence of Duke Johann, and so was on the look-out for any misconduct of mine upon which he could pounce. The best we could contrive, however, was that I should man the door from the staircase and Hanbury that of the bedchamber, for if the lord-in-waiting had any commands, he was not likely to call the janitor. Bell was to watch the back door, and the Grimms, so far as they could, would stay at the end of the hall, for from there they could see us all three and so could instantly respond to any signal of distress.