It's not the colour we see most of here in Zenda."
"I crave your pardon, sir," stammered the fellow, with puzzled eyes. "I
expected to see no one."
"Give him a glass to drink my health in; and I'll bid you good night,
and thanks to you, ladies, for your courtesy and pleasant conversation."
So speaking, I rose to my feet, and with a slight bow turned to the
door. The young girl ran to light me on the way, and the man fell back
to let me pass, his eyes still fixed on me. The moment I was by, he
started a step forward, asking:
"Pray, sir, do you know our King?"
"I never saw him," said I. "I hope to do so on Wednesday."
He said no more, but I felt his eyes following me till the door closed
behind me. My saucy conductor, looking over her shoulder at me as she
preceded me upstairs, said:
"There's no pleasing Master Johann for one of your colour, sir."
"He prefers yours, maybe?" I suggested.
"I meant, sir, in a man," she answered, with a coquettish glance.
"What," asked I, taking hold of the other side of the candlestick, "does
colour matter in a man?"
"Nay, but I love yours—it's the Elphberg red."
"Colour in a man," said I, "is a matter of no more moment than
that!"—and I gave her something of no value.
"God send the kitchen door be shut!" said she.
"Amen!" said I, and left her.
In fact, however, as I now know, colour is sometimes of considerable
moment to a man.
Chapter 3 - A Merry Evening with a Distant Relative
*
I was not so unreasonable as to be prejudiced against the duke's keeper
because he disliked my complexion; and if I had been, his most civil
and obliging conduct (as it seemed to me to be) next morning would have
disarmed me. Hearing that I was bound for Strelsau, he came to see
me while I was breakfasting, and told me that a sister of his who had
married a well-to-do tradesman and lived in the capital, had invited
him to occupy a room in her house. He had gladly accepted, but now found
that his duties would not permit of his absence. He begged therefore
that, if such humble (though, as he added, clean and comfortable)
lodgings would satisfy me, I would take his place. He pledged his
sister's acquiescence, and urged the inconvenience and crowding to which
I should be subject in my journeys to and from Strelsau the next day.
I accepted his offer without a moment's hesitation, and he went off to
telegraph to his sister, while I packed up and prepared to take the next
train. But I still hankered after the forest and the hunting-lodge, and
when my little maid told me that I could, by walking ten miles or so
through the forest, hit the railway at a roadside station, I decided to
send my luggage direct to the address which Johann had given, take my
walk, and follow to Strelsau myself. Johann had gone off and was not
aware of the change in my plans; but, as its only effect was to delay
my arrival at his sister's for a few hours, there was no reason for
troubling to inform him of it. Doubtless the good lady would waste no
anxiety on my account.
I took an early luncheon, and, having bidden my kind entertainers
farewell, promising to return to them on my way home, I set out to climb
the hill that led to the Castle, and thence to the forest of Zenda.
Half an hour's leisurely walking brought me to the Castle. It had been
a fortress in old days, and the ancient keep was still in good
preservation and very imposing. Behind it stood another portion of the
original castle, and behind that again, and separated from it by a deep
and broad moat, which ran all round the old buildings, was a handsome
modern chateau, erected by the last king, and now forming the country
residence of the Duke of Strelsau. The old and the new portions were
connected by a drawbridge, and this indirect mode of access formed the
only passage between the old building and the outer world; but leading
to the modern chateau there was a broad and handsome avenue. It was an
ideal residence: when "Black Michael" desired company, he could dwell in
his chateau; if a fit of misanthropy seized him, he had merely to cross
the bridge and draw it up after him (it ran on rollers), and nothing
short of a regiment and a train of artillery could fetch him out. I went
on my way, glad that poor Black Michael, though he could not have the
throne or the princess, had, at least, as fine a residence as any prince
in Europe.
Soon I entered the forest, and walked on for an hour or more in its cool
sombre shade. The great trees enlaced with one another over my head, and
the sunshine stole through in patches as bright as diamonds, and
hardly bigger. I was enchanted with the place, and, finding a felled
tree-trunk, propped my back against it, and stretching my legs out gave
myself up to undisturbed contemplation of the solemn beauty of the woods
and to the comfort of a good cigar. And when the cigar was finished and
I had (I suppose) inhaled as much beauty as I could, I went off into
the most delightful sleep, regardless of my train to Strelsau and of
the fast-waning afternoon. To remember a train in such a spot would
have been rank sacrilege. Instead of that, I fell to dreaming that I
was married to the Princess Flavia and dwelt in the Castle of Zenda, and
beguiled whole days with my love in the glades of the forest—which made
a very pleasant dream. In fact, I was just impressing a fervent kiss on
the charming lips of the princess, when I heard (and the voice seemed at
first a part of the dream) someone exclaim, in rough strident tones.
"Why, the devil's in it! Shave him, and he'd be the King!"
The idea seemed whimsical enough for a dream: by the sacrifice of my
heavy moustache and carefully pointed imperial, I was to be transformed
into a monarch! I was about to kiss the princess again, when I arrived
(very reluctantly) at the conclusion that I was awake.
I opened my eyes, and found two men regarding me with much curiosity.
Both wore shooting costumes and carried guns. One was rather short
and very stoutly built, with a big bullet-shaped head, a bristly grey
moustache, and small pale-blue eyes, a trifle bloodshot. The other was a
slender young fellow, of middle height, dark in complexion, and bearing
himself with grace and distinction. I set the one down as an old
soldier: the other for a gentleman accustomed to move in good society,
but not unused to military life either. It turned out afterwards that my
guess was a good one.
The elder man approached me, beckoning the younger to follow. He did so,
courteously raising his hat. I rose slowly to my feet.
"He's the height, too!" I heard the elder murmur, as he surveyed my six
feet two inches of stature.
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