The Prince of India, vol 2 | Page 5

her manners, are outside the sanctions of society.'"
Here, from resting on her elbow, the listener sat upright, grasping the massive arm of the chair.
"Shall I proceed, O Princess?"
"Yes."
"This place is very public"--he glanced at the people above them.
"I will hear you here."
"At your pleasure.... The Hegumen referred next to your going about publicly unveiled. While not positively wrong, he condemned the practice as a pernicious example; besides which there was a defiant boldness in it, he said, tending to make you a subject of discussion and indelicate remark."
The hand on the stony arm trembled.
"I fear, O Princess," Sergius continued, with downcast look, "that my words are giving you pain."
"But they are not yours. Go on."
"Then the Father came to what was much more serious."
Sergius again hesitated.
"I am listening," she said.
"He termed it your persistence in keeping up the establishment here at Therapia."
The Princess grew red and white by turns.
"He said the Turk was too near you; that unmarried and unprotected your proper place was in some house of God on the Islands, or in the city, where you could have the benefit of holy offices. As it was, rumor was free to accuse you of preferring guilty freedom to marriage."
The breeze fell off that moment, leaving the Princess in the centre of a profound hush; except for the unwonted labor of her heart, the leaves overhead were not more still. The sight of her was too oppressive-- Sergius turned away. Presently he heard her say, as if to herself: "I am indeed in danger. If my death were not in meditation, the boldest of them would not dare think so foul a falsehood.... Sergius," she said.
He turned to her, but she broke off diverted by another idea. Had this last accusation reference to the Emperor's dream of making her his wife? Could the Emperor have published what took place between them? Impossible!
"Sergius, did the Hegumen tell you whence this calumny had origin?"
"He laid it to rumor merely."
"Surely he disclosed some ground for it. A dignitary of his rank and profession cannot lend himself to shaming a helpless woman without reason or excuse."
"Except your residence at Therapia, he gave no reason."
Here she looked at Sergius, and the pain in the glance was pitiful. "My friend, is there anything in your knowledge which might serve such a rumor?"
"Yes," he replied, letting his eyes fall.
"What!" and she lifted her head, and opened her eyes.
He stood silent and evidently suffering.
"Poor Sergius! The punishment is yours. I am sorry for you--sorry we entered on this subject--but it is too late to retire from it. Speak bravely. What is it you know against me? It cannot be a crime; much I doubt if it be a sin; my walk has been very strait and altogether in God's view. Speak!"
"Princess," he answered, "coming down from the landing, I was stopped by a concourse studying a brass plate nailed to the right-hand pillar of your gate. It was inscribed, but none of them knew the import of the inscription. The hamari came up, and at sight of it fell to saluting, like the abject Eastern he is. The bystanders chaffered him, and he retorted, and, amongst other things, said the brass was a safeguard directed to all Turks, notifying them that this property, its owner, and inmates were under protection of the Prince Mahommed. Give heed now, I pray you, O Princess, to this other thing of the man's saying. The notice was the Prince Mahommed's, the inscription his signature, and the Prince himself fixed the plate on the pillar with his own hand."
Sergius paused.
"Well," she asked.
"The inferences--consider them."
"State them."
"My tongue refuses. Or if I must, O Princess, I will use the form of accusation others are likely to have adopted. 'The Princess Irene lives at Therapia because Prince Mahommed is her lover, and it is a convenient place of meeting. Therefore his safeguard on her gate.'"
"No one could be bold enough to"--
"One has been bold enough."
"One?"
"The Hegumen of my Brotherhood."
The Princess was very pale.
"It is cruel--cruel!" she exclaimed. "What ought I to do?"
"Treat the safeguard as a discovery of to-day, and have it removed while the people are all present." She looked at him searchingly. On her forehead between the brows, he beheld a line never there before. More surprising was the failure of self-reliance observable in her request for counsel. Heretofore her courage and sufficiency had been remarkable. In all dealings with him she had proved herself the directress, quick yet decided. The change astonished him, so little was he acquainted with the feminine nature; and in reply he spoke hastily, hardly knowing what he had said. The words were not straightforward and honest; they were not becoming him any more than the conduct suggested was becoming her; they lingered in his ear, a wicked sound,