The Great Court Scandal. Le Queux William

need not impress upon your Imperial Highness the necessity for discretion in this matter. To betray your knowledge of the affair would be to betray me.”

      “Trust me,” was her answer. “I know how to keep a secret, and I am not likely to forget this important service you have rendered me.”

      “My only regret is that I was unable to approach you months ago, when I first made the discovery. Your Highness would have then been able to avoid the pitfalls constantly set for you,” the man said meaningly.

      The Princess Claire bit her lip. She knew to what he referred. She had been foolish, ah yes; very foolish. And he dare not be more explicit.

      “Yes,” she sighed. “I know – I know to what you refer. But surely we need not discuss it. Even though I am Crown Princess, I am a woman, after all.”

      “I beg your Highness’s pardon,” he exclaimed quickly, fearing that she was annoyed.

      “There is nothing to pardon,” was her reply. “You are my friend, and speak to me in my own interests. For that I thank you. Only – only – ” she added, “all that you’ve just told me is such a startling revelation. My eyes are opened now. I see the dastardly ingenuity of it all. I know why my husband – ”

      But she checked herself instantly. No. However ill-treated she had been she would preserve her secret. She would not complain to a commoner at risk of her domestic infelicity going forth to her people.

      It was true that within a year of marriage he had thrown her down in her room and kicked her in one of his paroxysms of temper. He had struck her blows innumerable; but she had borne all in patience, and De Trauttenberg had discovered dark marks upon her white shoulders which she had attributed to a fall upon the ice. She saw now the reason of his estrangement; how his sycophants had poisoned his mind against her because they feared her.

      “Steinbach,” she said at last, “tell me the truth. What do the people think of me? You are a commoner and live among them. I, imprisoned at Court, unfortunately, know nothing. The opinions of the people never reach us.”

      “The people, your Highness, love you. They call you ‘their Claire.’ You surely know how, when you drive out, they raise their hats and shout in acclamation.”

      “Yes,” she said in a low, mechanical voice, “but is it real enthusiasm? Would they really love me if I were Queen?”

      “Your Highness is at this moment the most popular woman in the whole kingdom of Marburg. If it were known that this plot was in progress there would in all probability be a revolution. Stuhlmann and his friends are hated everywhere, and their overthrow would cause universal satisfaction.”

      “And the people do not really think ill of me?”

      “Think ill of you, Princess?” he echoed. “Why, they literally worship you and the little Princess Ignatia.”

      She was silent again, walking very slowly, and reflecting deeply. It was so seldom she had opportunity of speaking with one of the people unless he were a deputy or a diplomatist, who then put on all his Court manners, was unnatural, and feared to speak. From the man beside her, however, she saw she might learn the truth of a matter which was ever uppermost in her mind. And yet she hesitated to approach what was, after all, a very delicate subject.

      Suddenly, with her mind made up, she halted, and turning to him, said, —

      “Steinbach, I want you to answer me truthfully. Do not evade the question for fear of annoying me. Speak openly, as the friend you are to me. I wish to know one thing,” and she lowered her voice until it almost faltered. “Have you heard a – well, a scandal concerning myself?”

      He made no answer.

      She repeated her question; her veiled face turned to his.

      “Your Highness only a few moments ago expressed a desire not to discuss the matter,” he replied in a low, distinct voice.

      “But I want to know,” she urged. “I must know. Tell me the truth. If you are my friend you will at least be frank with me when I command.”

      “If you command, Princess, then I must obey, even with reluctance,” was his response. “Yes. I have heard some gossip. It is spoken openly in Court by the dames du palais, and is now being whispered among the people.”

      She held her breath. Fortunately, it was dark, for she knew that her countenance had gone crimson.

      “Well?” she asked. “And what do they say of me?”

      “They, unfortunately, couple your Highness’s name with that of Count Leitolf, the chief of the private cabinet of his Majesty,” was his low answer.

      “Yes,” she said in a toneless voice. “And what more?”

      “They say that Major Scheel, attaché at the Embassy in Paris, recognised you driving with the Count in the Avenue de l’Opéra, when you were supposed to be at Aix-les-Bains with the little Princess Ignatia.”

      “Yes. Go on.”

      “They say, too, that he follows you everywhere – and that your maid Henriette helps you to leave the palace in secret to meet him.”

      She heard his words, and her white lips trembled.

      “They also declare,” he went on in a low voice, “that your love of the country is only because you are able to meet him without any one knowing, that your journey here to Vienna is on account of him – that he has followed you here.”

      She nodded, without uttering a word.

      “The Count has, no doubt, followed your Highness, indiscreetly if I may say so, for I recognised him last night dining alone at Breying’s.”

      “He did not see you?” she exclaimed anxiously.

      “No. I took good care not to be seen. I had no desire that my journey here should be known, or I should be suspected. I return to-night at midnight.”

      “And to be frank, Steinbach, you believe that all this has reached my husband’s ears?” she whispered in a hard, strained voice.

      “All that is detrimental to your Highness reaches the Crown Prince,” was his reply to the breathless woman, “and certainly not without embellishments. That is why I implore of you to be circumspect – why I am here to tell you of the plot to disgrace you in the people’s eyes.”

      “But the people themselves are now speaking of – of the Count?” she said in a low, uncertain voice, quite changed from her previous musical tones when first they met.

      “A scandal – and especially a Court one – very soon spreads among the people. The royal servants gossip outside the palace, and moreover your Highness’s many enemies are only too delighted to assist in spreading such reports. It gives motive for the Crown Prince’s estrangement.”

      Her head was bent, her hands were trembling. The iron had entered her soul.

      The people – the people whom she so dearly loved, and who had waved their hands and shouted those glad welcomes to her as she drove out – were now whispering of Leitolf.

      She bit her lip, and her countenance went pale as death as the truth arose before her in all its hideous ghastliness.

      Even the man at her side, the humble man who had stood by her as her friend, knew that Leitolf was there – in Vienna – to be near her. Even Steinbach could have no further respect for her as a woman – only respect because she was one day to be his sovereign.

      Her hands were clenched; she held her breath, and shivered as the chill wind cut through her. She longed to be back in her father’s palace; to be alone in her room to think.

      “And nothing more?” she asked in that same blank voice which now caused her companion to wonder.

      “Only that they say evil of you that is not worth repeating,” was his brief answer.

      She sighed again, and then when she had sufficiently recovered from the effect of his words, she whispered in a low voice, —

      “I