British Mysteries Omnibus - The Emma Orczy Edition (65+ Titles in One Edition). Emma Orczy
the last feeling of honour and chivalry had died away; the refinement, to which Mirkovitch had so sneeringly alluded, was at last effectually smothered in the thrist for the annihilation of him who was one of the hated crew, of him whom at least they held in their power.
No one noticed, as she entered some time after her father, that Maria Stefanowna was paler than usual, that her attentive, respectful attitude was changed to one of courage and determination.
The usual purposeless, wearying questions were put with regard to the possible news from Volenski, the usual conjectures put forward as to his probable fate and that of the compromising papers.
Mirkovitch sat at the head of the table, drumming impatiently with his fingers, anxious evidently to hear the end of these barren conjectures and surmises.
"Too late to think of all that now," he said at last, rising abruptly, unable to control his impatience; "let us to God take it for granted that Dunajewski, Volenski, and the others are lost to us for ever, that on all of us the blow might fall at any hour, any moment, and let us give ourselves over in the meanwhile to the joy that is divine, the joy of vengeance."
"Mirkovitch, you are right," said a member of the committee; "I myself was one of those who wished to attain great ends by gentle means. I see now that we should all have been wiser to listen to your powerful counsels before; we should have saved our much-valued comrade, Volenski, from joining Dunajewski in a fate that we could not avert. There is no news of him to-day, though ten days have elapsed since he left us; he is either dead or a prisoner. I propose that sentence be passed on our captive, as, all but too soon, it will be passed on him."
A curious joy illumined Mirkovitch's stern features, a look of triumph flashed across his sunken eyes. His hands clenched, as if he already held in their grip the son of the great tyrant who ruled and oppressed the people; his tall figure seemed to grow even more majestic as he stood there, the prophet of that vengeance which is the Lord's, the vengeance that would bring all the tyrants to their knees, grovelling in abject fear.
The president took no part in the proceedings; his whole being revolted against the bloodthirsty scheme, but he was powerless to withhold the tide of feeling, and therefore remained in implied, if not actual, approval.
Mirkovitch had said, "Let us vote," and most hands were raised to give consent to the terrible deed. But Maria Stefanowna had at last gained sufficient composure, sufficient strength of mind to oppose her woman's personality against this sea of masculine will-power.
Hardly were the words: "You all consent, then?" out of her father's mouth, than she stood up opposite to him--alone, defiant.
"No, father, they do not consent."
All heads were turned towards the young girl, whose voice they were so unaccustomed to hear in these assemblies, whose very presence they no doubt had forgotten, or they never would have discussed the dreaded topic before her. She had latterly been so much one of themselves, that her very sex had been forgotten in good-fellowship and camaraderie, and none had thought of forbidding her to come to-night when a death-sentence was to be passed, which her woman's ear had no right to hear.
"Maria," said Mirkovitch, somewhat gently, "I am sure all our friends will agree in blaming me severely for allowing you to be here to-night. The harm done, however, cannot now be undone; we must all of us only entreat of your good sense, of your patriotism, not to try to oppose your weak will against what has been decided for the good of the cause, but to endeavour to gather strength, such as is necessary, if you wish to become a useful member of the fraternity. In the meanwhile you must let me take you home. This is, indeed, no place for one so young as you."
She had listened to him somewhat impatiently, though respectfully, since he was her father, but as soon as he paused she resumed:
"My friends, my comrades, my brothers. I have no right, I know, beyond that of friendship, to force you to listen to me, but I know so well what is passing in the minds of you all at this moment. You have none of you paused to think what a dastardly crime it is that you are all meditating –– "
"Maria!" thundered Mirkovitch's imperious voice.
'No, I will not stop, my father, even if you all should decide that my audacity shall be punished with the same assassin's dagger you are even now sharpening for a helpless, defenceless youth."
Mirkovitch had advanced towards his daughter; a dangerous look was in his eyes. Ten pairs of hands interposed to prevent the father from striking that audacious daughter. No one else had spoken, and Maria had repeated: "No, that hideous, that low, dastardly crime will, thank God, never be accomplished."
"And who will prevent it, Maria Stefanowna?" asked Mirkovitch, half wrathfully, half sneeringly.
"I will!" said Maria, and looked round quietly at the enthusiastic faces, all raised hopefully towards her.
Then, while silence fell on all those assembled, while Mirkovitch himself listened awestruck at what her woman's wit had imagined and carried out, she told them, in glowing words, of what she had thought and done, since twenty-four hours ago she first began to realise that these Utopian dreamers were descending the path that leads to dishonour, low, abject, and irretrievable. She told them of her horror when she thought that it had been she who had drawn an unsuspecting youth into a death-trap such as they were preparing for him; told them the misery the thought caused her, that it should be her own father's hand that was destined to strike the cowardly blow.
Then she reminded them of the worthy object they had in view, when first they thought of abducting the young prince; she spoke to them of Dunajewski, of their comrades languishing, so far, in prison.
"Remember," she said, "that that object was a noble one. Why should it ever have been abandoned? Our friend Volenski may have been arrested, stopped, it is true, but we have other means in our power still to save Dunajewski, and not to abandon Iván to his fate."
They did not understand what she was driving at, but still they listened to her glowing words, unwilling to interrupt her. Then she began to tell them of what she had actually accomplished, her interview with Lavrovski, the old courtier's attitude, his confession of impotence, the letter which she had given him to hand over to the Tsar, and which was but a replica of the one Volenski was taking across to Petersburg for them.
It seemed incredible that a young girl, who had seen so little of the world, should have been able to so cooly mature a plan of such wondrous audacity, and having matured it, should have been capable of so successfully carrying it through.
And it was wonderful to see the magical effect of the girl's words on all the gloomy spirits round; the feeling of manhood, of uprightness, temporarily smothered under the dark thoughts of vengeance, struggled for mastery once more; young faces were once more aglow with enthusiasm, that breathed of exalted patriotism and love for their fellow-men.
Mirkovitch only looked grim and sullen still, though every now and then a careful observer would have noticed in his eyes a look of pride for the daughter that had done this deed.
When she had finished a silence fell over them all, but this time it was a silence of happiness, of relief after the oppression of the past twenty-four hours.
The president was the first to break it. He rose with much dignity, and went up to Maria Stefanowna, who still stood, her cheeks aglow, her eyes aflame, watching the result of her words, trembling, yet hopeful.
"Maria Stefanowna," he said simply, "I think I speak the words of all those assembled when I say 'I thank you!'"
These few words seemed to relieve the tension. An enthusiastic vote of thanks was passed to Maria, who now, womanlike, feared she might break down through overmastering emotion.
Harmony seemed restored once more. Mirkovitch only sat smoking grimly and silently; the others were chattering gaily, and Maria was assailed with questions.
"When can we hear from Dunajewski as to whether they have crossed the frontier safely?"
Maria Stefanowna had thought of everything.
"It is to be officially announced in the