i^
me
only I sent for you," she said, in a tone of gentle reproach."
Into the presence of a queen one doesn't intrude;
\ve wait tobe
summoned."
"Don't try and flatter
me
; if you do like the othersI shall treat
you
as I do them, and not speak oneword
to you. I
much
prefer your way, although you areal-ways
offendingme.""
I do not
remember
to haveever offended you.""
Because you do nothing else.
You know
thatvery well."It was
now
their turn; they joined the waltzers,and no
one would have guessed that itwas
fifteen years since Ivanhad
danced.Meantime, in the card
-room
therewas some
gossip over thisnew whim
oftheyoung
countess.Count Ed-mund,
as he shuffled the cards, declared his cousin An-gelawas bewitched about this Ritter Magnet."
Ah,is thatso?" cried the Marquis Salista.
"
Don't you believe him," interrupted
Count
Stefan."
I
know
our prettyAngela; she is as full of mischief as a kitten.As
soon as she remarks that aman
has a hobby-horse,shemakes him
ride it,puts itthroughall its paces,caracoling, leaping,hauteecole. This isher trick:once she
knows
the subjectwhich interests a man, she talks of it with such an earnest face, such sympathetic eyes; andwhen
he has left her,charmed
at herintelli-gence, her sweetness, sheridiculesthe unfortunatedevil.
This is the
way
she treated poor Sondersheim, a very braveyoung
fellow,who
has only onefault, thathe wor-ships Angela, and she abhors him. She laughs at ev-erybody.""
That
is true; but she praises Ivan, notto his face, but behind hisback tome, and notbecause he is aman
t/8 feLACK
DIAMONDS
of science, a geologist, but because he is such a brave man."
"
That
isanotherofher tricks; the artful pussknows
right well thatthe praise which
comes
at third-hand isthe sweetestof all flattery."
"I take
good
carenot torepeat oneword
to Ivan.""
There
youshow him
real friendship," remarked Sa-lista,laughing.In the ball-room the dancers
had
returned to their places."
You
were ready toleave Pesth,"Angela was saying, with a charming pout."
You
needn'tdeny
it; the abbe' told me.""
Since then circumstances have detained
me
longerthan I expected," returned Ivan, coolly.
"
Have
yougot a familyathome
?""
I have noone belonging to
me
in the world.""
And why
have you not?"This
was
a searching question."
Perhaps you already
know
whatmy
business is. Ihave a colliery; I
work
with the miners, and spendmy
day underground."
"
Ah, that explains everything," said Angela, regard-ing
him
with tender sympathy. "Now
I understand that you are indeed right. It would be terrible tocon-demn
awoman
to the sufferingsa miner's wife must en-dure.What
can bemore
terrible than to take leave of herhusband
each morning, notknowing
whether they will ever meet again; toknow
he is in the depths of the earth while she breathesthe freshair ofheaven; to fancy her beloved is perhaps buried alive,and
she can-not hearhis criesfor help; thateven if it isnotso, that he is surrounded by a deadlyatmosphere, that it only needs a spark tobecome
a hell, in whichher darling179 would be lost to her forever? I can understand
how
awoman's
heartwould break under such a daily agony; ev2n to her child she would say, 'Do
not run so fast, else a stonemay
fall on your father's headand
killhim.'" Then, with asudden change of expression, An-gela turned angrily to Ivan. "But
why
do you staydown
in themine
likeacommon
miner?""Because it is
my
element, asthebattle-fieldisthat of the soldier, the sea of the sailor, the desert of the trav-eller. It is withme
as it is withthem
a passion. I love the mysteriousdarknessoftheworld underground."The warmth
with which Ivan spoke these words kindled an answering enthusiasm in his listener."
Every passion is absorbing," she said, "especially the passion for creation and for destruction. I under-stand
how
awoman
would follow aman
she loved, not onlyto the field,but into the battle itself, although the art of war hasnow become
a very prosaicand
second-class affair,and
haslost every trace of idealism. I con-fess, however, the heroismof the miner istome
incom-prehensible.A man who
occupies himself with dead, cold stones is tome
like that Prince Badrul-Buder in the'Arabian Nights,'who
was turned into a stone,and whose
wife preferred a living slave to her marble hus-band. I preferthosewho
penetrate tounknown
regionsof the globe,
and
I could envy the wife of SirSamuel
Baker,who
travelledby
his side all through the deserts of South Africa, holding in onehand
a pistol, while the otherhand was
clasped in that of her husband. To-gether theybore the burningheat,together repulsed the savage wild beasts.Hand
inhand
they appeared be-fore theKing
ofMorocco, and what thearm
ofthehus-band
failed to procure was given to thecharms
of the wife. I can place myselfin the position of thiswoman.
l8o BLACK
DIAMONDS
who, alone and deserted in the
Mangave
wood, sat through the livelongnight with theheadofthewounded
travelleron her lap and aloaded pistolbeside her.
To
heal his
wounds
she ventured into thewoods and
found herbs; for his food she contrived to cook in the desert.Shedid this for the only
man
sheloved,whose
onlylove she isand
has ever been.Her name
isknown and
revered in every place where Europeans have pene-trated."Again theyhadto join thecircleofdancers,
and when
they returned to theirplace Angelaresumed
the conver-sation:"What
I said justnow
was sheernonsense; thewhole thingwas the outcome ofdespicable vanity.A
misera-ble idea to travel through countries where awoman
ishardly to be distinguished from a beast,
and
that be-cause shewalks upright; wherethe ideal ofbeautyis to have the upperlip bored into a big hole, so thatwhen
laughing the nose is visible ridiculous!And
then to be proud because she was the most beautifulwoman,
andherhusband
perforce was faithful to her.A
greatthing, indeed, to be the queen of beauty
amid
mon-sters ofugliness! No, no; I
know
of something better, far bolder.A woman,
Fraulein Christian, has accom-plished a journey alone on horseback all across the steppes of Asia.What
if aman
andawoman
had the courage to penetrate through the Polenia Canal to thewarm
seas discoveredby Kane
? or if aman and
awoman had
the courage to castanchor inthe regions of the north pole, and to the inhabitants of that magnetickingdom
boldly say,*
Compare
yourselves with us;we
are handsomer, stronger,
more
faithful, happier than you are'
?
That
would be atriumph;and
such a jour-ney Iwould
willingly undertake."As
she said these words, Angela's eyesgleamed upon
Ivan with the splendor of the aurora borealis.Ivan decided within himself upon asudden experiment.
"
Countess, ifyou have the passion or desire tovisit strange worlds,
and
to excite the benighted inhabitants to a proper emulation for somethingbetter, truer,more
intellectual than that they have hitherto known, if this
is reallyyour laudable wish, Ican
recommend
to your notice a country equally in need ofsuch enlightenment,and
infinitely nearer to you."-What
is it?""It
is Hungary."
"But are
we
notinHungary
already?""
Countess, you are in it, but not of it.
You
are merely visitingus.You
do notknow
whatandwho we
are.
You
need notgo so farasthe poles orAbyssinia; here is anew
world open to you, a large field where your passion for creatingand
improving can be easily gratified."Angela
opened
her fan,and
with an air ofindiffer-ence fanned her whitebosom.
"
What
can/do?
Iam
notmy own
mistress."''
You
are not yourown
mistress, and, nevertheless, yourule.""Over whom?"
"
Countess, itwould only need one
word
from you to bring the green palaceand
all it containsfromViennato Pesth.The
societyhere requires that leading person-ality whichnow
inVienna
is lostamong
the crowd,whose
existence is spent in aimless inaction. Pesth needs the prince, your grandfather.He
adores you.One word
from you wouldgive toour life anew
being;one