On the Night of the Seventh Moon (38 page)

Before he could protest I had gone into his waiting room and come back with Gretchen.

“I want you and Dr. Kleine to meet,” I told Gretchen.

He stared at her. “Who . . .” he began. “What . . .”

“This is Frau Franck,” I said. “You remember her as Gretchen Swartz. But you thought—or you told me you thought—she was dead. You see, she is alive.”

“But I don't understand. You and she . . . here together. You . . . planned this?”

“We both had children in your clinic, Dr. Kleine.”

“Oh yes, yes . . .”

“You told me that Gretchen's child lived and was adopted.”

“There has clearly been a misunderstanding. You did not tell me that Fräulein Swartz was here.”

“She is Frau Franck now, but you were so certain that she was dead. Your records said so.”

“It is obviously a clerical error. I am glad Fräulein Swartz did not die, but as I say, it is so long ago.”

“How did you come to make such a record?”

He shrugged his shoulders, his composure almost regained. “Mistakes happen, Miss Trant, as you must be aware. I'm afraid I can't help you further.”

“Perhaps you can,” I said. “I wonder whether you can give me the address of Frau Gleiberg.”

He wrinkled his brows but he did not deceive me. “Wasn't she your friend?” he asked.

“I have lost touch with her.”

“I too. And now, Miss Trant, you will understand that I am a very busy man. I am sorry that I can be of no help to you.”

He ushered me out of his clinic with alacrity. I was excited because a sudden notion had come to me that just as he had deceived us into
thinking that Gretchen's child had lived, might he not have deceived me into thinking that mine had died?

He could give me no details. He could not tell me where my child was buried.

How I wished Maximilian would come back. There was so much to discuss with him.

 

A letter came from Anthony.

Things look a little unsettled over there. I don't like the idea of your being there. The French are very bellicose, and they and the Prussians are such old enemies. If there was trouble—and opinion here seems that there might well be—I shouldn't like to think of you there. If you send word, I'll come out and bring you back . . .

It seemed unfair not to tell him that I had found Maximilian. I was so fond of Anthony that I wanted him to stop thinking of me. I hoped that the girl to whom his mother had referred would be all that he needed in a wife and I wholeheartedly wished that he might fall in love with her and forget me.

As soon as I possibly could I should tell him.

 

Frau Graben came into the schoolroom in a flutter of excitement. I was giving an English lesson and trying to keep my attention on what we were doing. It was not easy. I kept thinking of my visit to Dr. Kleine's clinic and asking myself what it meant. I was beginning to believe more and more that there was some mystery about my little girl's death.

Every time I heard the sound of horse's hoofs in the courtyard I started, desperately hoping it would be Maximilian. I yearned to talk to him, to sift the reason for Dr. Kleine's strange behavior from all the mass of mystery which surrounded me.

Frau Graben said: “It's the Duchess. It's Wilhelmina.”

I heard myself say in a voice which sounded haughty but this of course was due to nervousness: “What does she want?”

“She's come to see you.”

“To see me!”

“That's what she says. She's over at the
Rittersaal
.”

Dagobert said: “Is the Duke with her?”

“No,” answered Frau Graben. “She's all alone . . . at least she's alone in the
Rittersaal.
She has two of her women waiting in the carriage.”

“I'll go at once to her,” I said. “I can't imagine why she wants to see me.”

I told the children to go on reading from the book of fairy stories which we were studying.

As the door shut on us Frau Graben looked at me, her eyes dancing with excitement, and lifted her shoulders.

“What does this mean, I wonder,” she whispered.

“She did say she wanted to see
me?
”

“She certainly did. And there's a look in her eyes.”

“What sort of look?”

“Reminded me of icebergs,” said Frau Graben. “Not that I've seen an iceberg. Cold. Very cold. Shivery cold, I'd say. And I've been told that there's a lot more ice in icebergs than you see on the surface.”

“I wonder if . . .”

“She knows anything? Couldn't say. News leaks out, particularly bad news and this could be bad news to her. Still you'll soon know. Just go in and call her Your Grace and show the proper respect. You can't go wrong then.”

I found that I was trembling. I had seen this woman on one or two occasions, but only from a distance. The fact that she believed herself to be Maximilian's wife made her alarming, to say the least. I felt that I was wronging her, which was not so. It was neither her fault nor mine that we were in this position.

She was seated at the table when Frau Graben opened the door.

“Here's Miss Trant, Your Grace,” she said, and I stepped into the room. I was aware that Frau Graben had not shut the door. She would
be standing very close, listening. The eavesdropper in this case was rather a comfort.

“You are Miss Trant?” The coldest blue eyes I had ever seen were appraising me. They were expressionless and it was impossible to tell from them what she knew. She was beautiful in a certain style, I noticed with a pang of jealousy. How absurd to feel that! He loved me and he had never loved her. She was beautiful as a statue is beautiful—remote and so cool. Her fair hair was swept up from a pale, rather long face; her nose was aquiline and patrician; her mouth matched her eyes—unsmiling. Her velvet cloak fell back to display the lace ruffles at her wrists and neck. Diamonds sparkled on her fingers and in the lace at her throat. They suited her. I could not imagine her ever glowing with passion; yet aloof as she was there was something deadly about her as there is about a snake.

But I believed she was feeling more interest in me than she would normally have for a teacher of English. She knows, I thought, if not all—something.

“I hear you teach the children English.”

“That is so.”

“And are they good pupils?”

I replied that I was satisfied with them.

She said: “You may be seated.” She pointed to a chair close to hers and added: “There.”

“How long have you been in Klocksburg?” she went on.

I told her.

“Why did you come here?”

“Frau Graben came to England and we met. She thought I would be suitable to teach the children English.”

“Frau Graben! Why should she decide that the children should be taught English?”

“Perhaps she could tell you that.”

The eyebrows were imperceptibly raised. I hoped I did not sound impertinent. I did not mean to be. I was merely horribly nervous because she was in the position which should be mine, because she
believed herself to be married to Maximilian and was not. I could not imagine what her reaction would be when she knew the truth. She was proud and haughty and I should think would be very humiliated. The loss of dignity would mean a great deal to her.

“We are living through difficult times, Miss Trant,” she said. “It might be well if you returned to your country.”

I was sure there was an even colder glitter in her eyes.

She knows! I thought. She is telling me to get out. I had the impression that she was offering me escape or the consequences of remaining here.

Go home! Leave Maximilian! As if I could! Was he not
my
husband? But I was sorry for her. I would be sorry for any woman in her position, be she proud princess or humble woodcutter's daughter.

I knew in that moment that I was going to fight for what was mine. Because my visit to Dr. Kleine was fresh in my memory, I thought of the children I should have, and it must be my son, not hers, who should be his father's heir. For myself I did not seek great riches. I knew that I should have been happier if my husband had been in a less exalted position; but for my children I would fight as any other mother would.

“I have no wish to return to my country,” I said. “I propose to stay here.”

She bowed her head. What secrets those eyes held. Indeed she was like a snake. Her eyes were steady, her mouth cold; one sensed the poison dart was ready, waiting.

“We could be at war at any moment. The Duke, my husband, is most concerned.”

I felt the color flush my cheeks. I wanted to say: No!
My
husband. And do you think
I
do not know of his concern.

This was foolish of course. I was not being reasonable. She had no notion that I was Maximilian's wife. This cold appraising manner was the one accorded to all those whom she considered far beneath her.

“I should advise all
foreigners
to go,” she said. “But you do not wish to. You are enthralled by your post.” Her lips curled but there was no smile in her eyes; it was as though she were shrugging her shoulders at
my folly, telling me that if I were wise I would go; but if I would not, then stay and take the consequences.

“I prefer to stay. It is good of Your Grace to concern yourself with me.”

That was hypocritical for I knew very well that there was nothing good about her concern. She was not in the least anxious for my welfare. She wanted something.

“Since you will stay,” she said, “I will call upon your help. I wonder whether you will do as I ask.”

I sensed that she was playing with me—tormenting me in some way. I was convinced in that moment that she knew, but in the next I was telling myself that I was fanciful.

“The war is coming,” she went on. “There is no doubt of it. I plan to turn one of the smaller
Schlösser
into a hospital. We shall need all the helpers we can get. Are you prepared to join us, Miss Trant?”

I was astonished. What an absurd imagination I had! Had she after all merely come to ask my help in a hospital! And here I was imagining that she was planning to murder me!

I was tremendously relieved and I think I showed it.

“I would do anything I could to help,” I said warmly. “I must tell you though that I have had no experience of nursing.”

“Few of us have. We may have to learn. Then, Miss Trant, can we count on your help?”

“If this war should take place then I should be eager to give my services.”

“Thank you, Miss Trant. That is good of you. I have the
Schloss
in mind. It is called the
Landhaus
because the Government used to sit there years ago. You have seen it?”

I said I had not.

“It is on the other side of the mountain and easily accessible. I trust that we may not need it, but we have to be prepared.” The cold eyes looked straight into mine. “It's no use waiting for events to catch us. We must be ready to meet them when they come. You agree, I am sure.”

“Yes, I do.”

She waved her hand rather imperiously to denote that the interview was over. I rose and went to the door.

When I reached it she said: “I shall be calling on your help . . . soon.”

I said I would be ready.

As I went out I almost fell into Frau Graben.

“Come to my sitting room,” she said, “and I'll give you a cup of tea.”

I followed her there; the kettle was already on the boil.

“There,” said Frau Graben as she poured out. “What do you make of that?”

There was no need to ask how she knew the gist of the conversation. I knew—and she knew I knew—that she had been listening all the time.

“I suppose it's wise to be prepared. If there is a war there will be casualties and it is well to have hospitals.”

“I wonder why she came to see you.”

“She will want as many helpers as she can get.”

“I know. I know. But why come to see
you?
Is her High and Mighty Grace going to interview all those who will be called in to help?”

“Perhaps she thinks as I'm a foreigner my case is different. She warned me I should leave, as you heard.”

Frau Graben narrowed her eyes. “I wonder what she
knows.
They've got spies everywhere. You can depend upon it Maxi's visits here have been noted. And why should he come here, they'll be asking themselves and when they ask themselves a question like that they come up with the same answer every time. A woman!”

“She gave no indication that she knew.”

“As if she would! Close, she is. Cold as ice on top. And what's underneath? I wonder what she'll do. People! They're worth watching. If she thinks you're just another woman she might plague you for a bit, but if she knew you were his true and lawful wife . . .” Frau Graben began to laugh so much I thought she would choke.

“It seems to amuse you,” I said coldly. “Sometimes I think you're a wicked woman.”

“I have my parts like everyone else. People—you never can be sure, can you?”

How true that was! One could never be sure—only of the one who was closest to you.

Oh, Maximilian, I prayed, come back soon.

 

The next day a messenger arrived from the Count. He came in a carriage with the arms blazoned on it. They were so like the ducal arms that at first I thought that Maximilian was back. My disappointment was intense.

Frau Graben had, of course, seen the carriage and ascertained the reason for its coming.

“It's from Fredi,” she told me. “You're to go to his
Schloss.
He wants to consult you about the children's lessons.”

I stared at her in dismay. She nodded grimly.

“We can't disobey an order from the Count, not until you're recognized, you know. But he didn't say anything about your going alone. Though I doubt not that he has that in mind. I know Fredi. I'll come with you.”