The Intriguers Part 21

Corsini rose; he was rather tired of the argument.

"If it is so, Madame, I shall not pay him the compliment of staying away. I would not give him the triumph of thinking that he was capable of hurting me."

She saw it was useless. "It must be as you wish, Signor;" there was a note of sadness in her voice as she turned away. She left the room, murmuring to herself, "I have tried my best. It is the sister who draws him, and she must wish as fervently as I do that he would stay away."

It was early in the evening when she had sought this interview, and as the hours sped on, bringing Corsini nearer to the time of his appointment, her agitation increased. If she could only know if the Princess had thought of anything, if she had taken any steps to prevent the tragedy which she felt sure was impending.

With a woman of her nervous and excitable temperament, to express a wish was to carry it swiftly into execution. The Opera finished early that night. She drove home at once to her villa, summoned her maid, and bade her change her costume.

A few moments later she came back to the waiting carriage, attired in clothes befitting a woman of the poorer cla.s.ses, and drove to within a short distance of the Zouroff Palace. She walked on foot to the servants' entrance and demanded to see the Princess's maid, Katerina, on very urgent business.

The girl came to the door, wondering who her visitor could be, what was the cause of this imperative summons.

The _prima donna_ laid her finger on her lips to impress caution and secrecy.

"We must speak very low, if you please. I am Madame Quero, the person you showed yesterday into your young mistress's room. Can you convey a message from me to her now?"

Katerina looked at the strange visitor who had disguised herself so successfully. Had she met her in the street, she would have pa.s.sed her by without knowing her. But now that Madame Quero had recalled herself to her recollection, she at once recognised the popular singer, in spite of her humble attire.

"If you don't mind waiting a few moments, Madame, I think I can manage it. But I am afraid I shall have to ask you to wait outside. Am I to take a letter?"

"I will wait outside, certainly. No, no letter, it might excite suspicion. Just take this message to your mistress: Has she been able to take any steps with regard to the matter we spoke of yesterday? A few words, yes or no, will do for an answer."

The door was closed, and La Belle Quero, one of the idols of St.

Petersburg, waited in the darkness for a message to be delivered by a lady's maid. For a moment, as she stood there, she laughed a little hysterically at the situation.

The Zouroff Palace had never opened its doors to her, even in a professional capacity, for the Princess was a _grande dame_, and very rigid in her social views. But there were other great houses, presided over by hostesses with a more elastic code for people of genius who had entertained her as a guest.

It was, to say the least of it, a little _bizarre_ that she should be waiting outside the servants' quarters, dressed in working-woman's attire, because she did not want one lover to injure another man who might have been a lover had he chosen.

The minutes sped by; it seemed an eternity to the anxious woman waiting there. Then at last the door was opened cautiously, and Katerina spoke in a low voice.

"A thousand pardons for keeping you waiting so long, Madame, but it was very difficult to get hold of the young Princess. There is a big reception on to-night."

"I know, I know," interrupted the singer eagerly. This obliging girl, like most of her cla.s.s, was apt to be garrulous. "Has she sent an answer?"

Katerina looked a little offended. Her good-humoured young mistress never interrupted her, even in her most prolix moments. She spoke stiffly.

"Yes, Madame, I was coming to that in a second. She has taken certain steps which she devoutly hopes will insure the result you both desire, but of course she cannot be certain." Suddenly the maid's tone changed, and she dropped a very profound curtsey. "It is very kind of you, Madame, but it was really not necessary. I am only too pleased to have been of use."

The change in tone was due to the fact that Madame Quero had slipped into her hand a substantial sum of money, immediately afterwards disappearing into the darkness.

Although not happy nor a.s.sured, she felt relieved to know that something had been done to thwart the Prince's sinister designs.

She walked swiftly to her carriage, and on her way pa.s.sed Corsini, who was going in the direction of the Palace with his beloved violin-case in his hand. It was a peculiarity of the Italian that he never drove where he could walk. She shuddered as she wondered if he was going to his doom, or if the Princess's fervent hopes would be realised.

For a moment a wild impulse urged her to turn back and run after him, to blurt out the truth and implore his silence. But the instinct of self-preservation prevailed and the impulse was combated.

Zouroff's dark threat rang in her ears. And if the Prince's suspicions were correct, Corsini was in the pay of Golitzine. If that were true, she would entreat his silence in vain. Even grat.i.tude for his escape would not blind him to his obvious duty.

Corsini ascended the staircase, and the first person he met on entering the handsome gilded music-salon was the master of the house.

To the Italian's intense surprise the Prince held out his hand and greeted him with an apparent show of cordiality.

"Ah, good evening, Signor. You are a little late--is it not so? Many of your admirers have been asking after you and fearing that you were not able to come."

Nello, a man of a most frank and trusting disposition, was almost overcome by this condescension. Had he misjudged the man after all? A great Russian n.o.bleman of ancient lineage might be disposed to look down upon meaner persons who could boast of neither wealth nor origin.

At any rate, he was behaving well in his own house, was not reminding him of the difference between their stations.

"I am afraid I am a little late, Prince. But I will make amends. If they desire an extra encore they shall have it." Thus Nello, a little elated by Zouroff's subtle suggestion that he was a person of great importance in the world of art, and his audience was waiting impatiently for his arrival.

He played very beautifully that night. The enthusiasm of his listeners was so great that he had to grant not one, but three encores. At last he left the platform.

The Princess Nada met him as he descended the few marble steps.

"You have surpa.s.sed yourself to-night, Signor. There are many waiting to pay you compliments. But will you first come and have a brief chat with me?"

Was there anything he could more ardently desire? To gaze for a few moments into those beautiful eyes, to listen to those soft, kind tones--were not a few moments spent like this worth much more than all the applause he had received?

She led him to a small divan in the s.p.a.cious salon, that was fortunately not occupied. She sat at one end, he at the other; but they were not very distant.

He was very agitated. His close proximity to this beautiful young woman, the product of centuries of high breeding, the delight of her presence, the perfume that stole to him from her abundant hair, the hundred and one subtle allurements that a daughter of the cla.s.ses possessed for a son of the people, intoxicated him. She was indeed the woman of his dreams, a star set so high in the firmament that he could only gaze respectfully at its light.

She brought him to earth with the simple question: "You must be very tired after your fatigues of the day and night; it is some time past twelve now. How do you propose to return to your hotel? I suppose you have your carriage waiting to take you back?"

She had put the question in her subtle, woman's way. She knew it was a fad of Corsini's that he would never ride or drive where he could walk. When he was rallied upon it by his few intimate friends, he always gave the same explanation that he proffered now.

"It is an eccentricity of mine, Princess, that I always walk wherever I can. Shall I tell you why?"

Nada looked at him kindly. "Yes, tell me why. I cannot tell you whether it is an eccentricity until I know the reason. Personally, I am a very lazy person, and never walk when I can ride."

Corsini leaned towards her. He could inhale the fragrance of her hair, the stronger perfume that came from the roses she wore in her corsage.

"Princess, may I reveal to you some of my inmost cherished aspirations?" His eyes were glowing, he spoke with unusual vehemence.

"I should be honoured to receive your confidences," replied the Princess softly.

"Ah, then, since you are so indulgent, I will tell you. My career up to a few months ago was an obscure one. Music is in my blood, as it is in yours. Am I not right?"

"Yes," replied the Princess, in an even softer voice than before.

"Music is in my blood, too. Everything fades into insignificance beside those lovely rapturous sounds, such as you and a few other great artists can evoke and render in your various media: through the voice, the violin, the piano--perhaps the weakest, the least convincing of all."

She was very lovely, very alluring, thought Corsini. She had considerable mentality, even great spirituality. Alone with his violin and her, he could so charm her that perchance she might cast off her high estate, the estate of the Princess, and venture forth with him into the world of exquisite music and unknown dreams. But the time had not come for that. She had only extended a kind and gentle friends.h.i.+p.

He could not, at the moment, ask for more. It would be presumption on his part.

"I trust I shall not weary you," he said, with a smile of apology. "As a violinist, I have met with some success; as the Director of the Imperial Opera, I am not quite a failure. But these successes, for what they are worth, do not put limits on my ambition. I want to be something greater than either--the successful composer."

The Princess sighed. "Ah, that is my ambition, too. I have tried every instrument, and failed. I have composed heaps of things, but there is no originality in them. I play Chopin and try to imitate him, Wagner with the same result. I have an artistic instinct, Signor Corsini, but no creative ability. I must be a listener all my life, envying the people who render what I would give all my fortune to express."

Corsini thought of his interview with Salmoros, when that sedate and experienced financier had expressed the inmost desires of his soul, that he would give a hundred thousand pounds out of his princely fortune to acquire half of the Italian's executive art.