Princess Zara

I wished, somehow, to compel this man to talk freely with me about the

princess and yet all the time I was reluctant in my own soul to have

him do it. During that interval Morét was greater than I; more

chivalrous than I; for he remained loyal to his duty towards her, as he

saw it, in spite of the terrible accusation I had made against her

womanliness, and notwithstanding all the insinuations I had put

forward, respecting her utter disregard and contempt for him.

"Perhaps she will do so," he said; "that is, if she knows aught to say

of me."

He was silent for a moment after that, and I waited, knowing that I had

tried this man to the utmost point of his mental endurance.

Presently he raised his eyes again to mine, and said: "Mr. Dubravnik, at the very beginning of our acquaintance, when you

made a prisoner of me in one of the rooms of the suite you were to

occupy in the palace, I told you that I had gone into this business for

the love of a woman, and it was tacitly, if not literally agreed

between us at that time, that the woman's personality and name should

form no part of our future discussions. You have chosen, at this time,

to mention a princess, to whom you give the name of Zara de Echeveria,

and I have told you that I know no such person; that the name means

nothing to me. What you may surmise, Mr. Dubravnik, can have no effect

upon me, or upon your relations with me, or mine with you. So now I

tell you once again, that while I am perfectly willing to believe

myself to be morally free to discuss with you all phases of nihilism,

I will not discuss this woman you have named, or any other woman."

He bowed his head and I could see beads of sweat upon his forehead

which betrayed the mental anguish he was undergoing. I knew that it was

far worse than physical torture, and as there was nothing to gain by

prolonging it, and nothing more to be said, I withdrew.

At the end of another half hour I was announced to the princess.

She received me in a diminutive bower of Oriental luxury. Her

decorative tastes were decidedly Eastern and lavishly extravagant. She

knew how to arrange a room with the object of stealing away a man's

reserve. There is something about the atmosphere of well chosen

surroundings which intoxicates judgment and murders discretion--which

bars reason at the threshold and generates madness of thought and deed

beyond it. A Solon in the princess' drawing room might become a puppet

in her boudoir; in that fascinating atmosphere a Jove would have

degenerated to a Hermes, or Mars have cast away his sword and shield

for the wings of Apollo. To enter it, was like awaking from a vivid

dream of battle to find the soft arms of love around you, and to feel

the lethargy of infinite content. Add to this the personality of the

Princess Zara, her half hesitating smile of welcome in which pleasure

and dread were equally mingled; suffuse her face with a quick blush,

and instantly replace it with a touch of pallor; render her manner with

a suggestion of hauteur, softened by a gesture of timidity and doubt;

listen to her voice, low-toned and infinitely calm yet vibrating in a

minor chord of uncertainty and dread; feel the clasp of her hand, cold

when it touches yours, yet instantly thrilling you with a glow induced

by the contact, and--remain thoroughly master of yourself if you can.

Retain, if you have the strength to do so, the opinions you had formed,

the judgments you have passed. If you succeed, you are a giant; if you

fail, you are just what I was--a man, and human.