IX. "S.P." and the Baron

by Louisa May Alcott

　　Dinner was over, and the salon deserted by all but the two youngladies, who sat apart, apparently absorbed in novels, while eachwas privately longing for somebody to come, and with the charminginconsistency of the fair sex, planning to fly if certain somebodiesdid appear.Steps approached; both buried themselves in their books; both heldtheir breath and felt their hearts flutter as they never had donebefore at the step of mortal man. The door opened; neither looked up,yet each was conscious of mingled disappointment and relief when themajor said, in a grave tone, "Girls, I've something to tell you.""We know what it is, sir," returned Helen, coolly."I beg your pardon, but you don't, my dear, as I will prove in fiveminutes, if you will give me your attention."The major looked as if braced up to some momentous undertaking; andplanting himself before the two young ladies, dashed bravely into thesubject."Girls, I've played a bold game, but I've won it, and will take theconsequences.""They will fall heaviest on you, uncle," said Helen, thinking he wasabout to declare his love for the widow.The major laughed, shrugged his shoulders, and answered, stoutly,--"I'll bear them; but you are quite wrong, my dear, in your surmises,as you will soon see. Helen is my ward, and accountable to me alone.Amy's mother gave her into my charge, and won't reproach me foranything that has passed when I explain matters. As to the lads theymust take care of themselves."Suddenly both girls colored, fluttered, and became intenselyinterested. The major's eyes twinkled as he assumed a perfectlyimpassive expression, and rapidly delivered himself of the followingthunderbolt,--"Girls, you have been deceived, and the young men you love areimpostors.""I thought so," muttered Helen, grimly."Oh, uncle, don't, don't say that!" cried Amy, despairingly."It's true, my dears; and the worst of it is, I knew the truth all thetime. Now, don't have hysterics, but listen and enjoy the joke as Ido. At Coblentz, when you sat in the balcony, two young men overheardAmy sigh for adventures, and Helen advise making a romance out of thegloves one of the lads had dropped. They had seen you by day; bothadmired you, and being idle, gay young fellows, they resolvedto devote their vacation to gratifying your wishes and enjoyingthemselves. We met at the Fortress; I knew one of them, and liked theother immensely; so when they confided their scheme to me I agreedto help them carry it out, as I had perfect confidence in both, andthought a little adventure or two would do you good.""Uncle, you were mad," said Helen; and Amy added, tragically,--"You don't know what trouble has come of it.""Perhaps I was; that remains to be proved. I do know everything, andfail to see any trouble, so don't cry, little girl," briskly repliedthe inexplicable major. "Well, we had a merry time planning our prank.One of the lads insisted on playing courier, though I objected. He'ddone it before, liked the part, and would have his way. The othercouldn't decide, being younger and more in love; so we left him tocome into the comedy when he was ready. Karl did capitally, as youwill allow; and I am much attached to him, for in all respects he hasbeen true to his word. He began at Coblentz; the other, after doingthe mysterious at Heidelberg, appeared as an exile, and made quickwork with the prejudices of my well-beloved nieces--hey, Amy?""Go on; who are they?" cried both girls, breathlessly."Wait a bit; I'm not bound to expose the poor fellows to your scornand anger. No; if you are going to be high and haughty, to forgettheir love, refuse to forgive their frolic, and rend their hearts withreproaches, better let them remain unknown.""No, no; we will forget and forgive, only speak!" was the command ofboth."You promise to be lenient and mild, to let them confess theirmotives, and to award a gentle penance for their sins?""Yes, we promise!""Then, come in, my lads, and plead for your lives."As he spoke the major threw open the door, and two gentlemen enteredthe room--one, slight and dark, with brilliant black eyes; the othertall and large, with blond hair and beard. Angry, bewildered, andshame-stricken as they were, feminine curiosity overpowered all otherfeelings for the moment, and the girls sat looking at the culpritswith eager eyes, full of instant recognition; for though the disguisewas off, and neither had seen them in their true characters but once,they felt no doubt, and involuntarily exclaimed,--"Karl!""Casimer.""No, young ladies; the courier and exile are defunct, and from theirashes rise Baron Sigismund Palsdorf, my friend, and Sidney Power, mynephew. I give you one hour to settle the matter; then I shall returnto bestow my blessing or to banish these scapegraces forever."And, having fired his last shot, the major prudently retreated,without waiting to see its effect.It was tremendous, for it carried confusion into the fair enemy'scamp; and gave the besiegers a momentary advantage of which they werenot slow to avail themselves.For a moment the four remained mute and motionless: then Amy, like alltimid things, took refuge in flight, and Sidney followed her into thegarden, glad to see the allies separated. Helen, with the courage ofher nature, tried to face and repulse the foe; but love was strongerthan pride, maiden shame overcame anger, and, finding it vain to meetand bear down the steady, tender glance of the blue eyes fixed uponher, she dropped her head into her hands and sat before him, like oneconquered but too proud to cry "Quarter." Her lover watched her tillshe hid her face, then drew near, knelt down before her, and said,with an undertone of deep feeling below the mirthful malice of hiswords,--"Mademoiselle, pardon me that I am a foolish baron, and dare to offeryou the title that you hate. I have served you faithfully for a month,and, presumptuous as it is, I ask to be allowed to serve you all mylife. Helen, say you forgive the deceit for love's sake.""No; you are false and forsworn. How can I believe that anything istrue?"And Helen drew away the hand of which he had taken possession."Heart's dearest, you trusted me in spite of my disguise; trustme still, and I will prove that I am neither false nor forsworn.Catechise me, and see if I was not true in spite of all my seemingdeception.""You said your name was Karl Hoffman," began Helen, glad to gain alittle time to calm herself before the momentous question came."It is; I have many, and my family choose to call me Sigismund," wasthe laughing answer."I'll never call you so; you shall be Karl, the courier, all your lifeto me," cried Helen, still unable to meet the ardent eyes before her."Good; I like that well; for it assures me that all my life I shall besomething to you, my heart. What next?""When I asked if you were the baron, you denied it.""Pardon! I simply said my name was Hoffman. You did not ask me pointblank if I was the baron; had you done so, I think I should haveconfessed all, for it was very hard to restrain myself this morning.""No, not yet; I have more questions;" and Helen warned him away, as itbecame evident that he no longer considered restraint necessary."Who is Ludmilla?" she said, sharply."My faith, that is superb!" exclaimed the baron, with a triumphantsmile at her betrayal of jealousy. "How if she is a former love?" heasked, with a sly look at her changing face."It would cause me no surprise; I am prepared for anything.""How if she is my dearest sister, for whom I sent, that she mightwelcome you and bring the greetings of my parents to their newdaughter?""Is it, indeed, so?"And Helen's eyes dimmed as the thought of parents, home and lovefilled her heart with tenderest gratitude, for she had long been anorphan."Leibchen, it is true; to-morrow you shall see how dear you alreadyare to them, for I write often and they wait eagerly to receive you."Helen felt herself going very fast, and made an effort to harden herheart, lest too easy victory should reward this audacious lover."I may not go; I also have friends, and in England we are not won inthis wild way. I will yet prove you false; it will console me forbeing so duped if I can call you traitor. You said Casimer had foughtin Poland.""Crudest of women, he did, but under his own name, Sidney Power.""Then, he was not the brave Stanislas?--and there is no charmingCasimer?""Yes, there are both,--his and my friends, in Paris; true Poles, andwhen we go there you shall see them.""But his illness was a ruse?""No; he was wounded in the war and has been ill since. Not of a fatalmalady, I own; his cough misled you, and he has no scruples infabling to any extent. I am not to bear the burden of his sins.""Then, the romances he told us about your charity, your virtues,and--your love of liberty were false?" said Helen, with a keen glance,for these tales had done much to interest her in the unknown baron.Sudden color rose to his forehead, and for the first time his eyesfell before hers,--not in shame, but with a modest man's annoyance athearing himself praised."Sidney is enthusiastic in his friendship, and speaks too well for me.The facts are true, but he doubtless glorified the simplest by hisway of telling it. Will you forgive my follies, and believe me when Ipromise to play and duel no more?""Yes."She yielded her hand now, and her eyes were full of happiness, yet sheadded, wistfully,--"And the betrothed, your cousin, Minna,--is she, in truth, not dear toyou?""Very dear, but less so than another; for I could not learn of her inyears what I learned in a day when I met you. Helen, this was begun injest,--it ends in solemn earnest, for I love my liberty, and I havelost it, utterly and forever. Yet I am glad; look in my face and tellme you believe it."He spoke now as seriously as fervently, and with no shadow on her own,Helen brushed back the blond hair and looked into her lover's face.Truth, tenderness, power, and candor were written there in charactersthat could not lie; and with her heart upon her lips, she answered, ashe drew her close,--"I do believe, do love you, Sigismund!" Meanwhile another scene waspassing in the garden. Sidney, presuming upon his cousinship, tookpossession of Amy, bidding her "strike but hear him." Of course shelistened with the usual accompaniment of tears and smiles, reproachesand exclamations, varied by cruel exultations and coquettish commandsto go away and never dare approach her again."Ma drogha, listen and be appeased. Years ago you and I playedtogether as babies, and our fond mammas vowed we should one day mate.When I was a youth of fourteen and you a mite of seven I went away toIndia with my father, and at our parting promised to come back andmarry you. Being in a fret because you couldn't go also, you haughtilydeclined the honor, and when I offered a farewell kiss, struck me withthis very little hand. Do you remember it?""Not I. Too young for such nonsense.""I do, and I also remember that in my boyish way I resolved to keep myword sooner or later, and I've done it.""We shall see, sir," cried Amy, strongly tempted to repeat her part ofthe childish scene as well as her cousin, but her hand was not free,and he got the kiss without the blow."For eleven years we never met. You forgot me, and 'Cousin Sidney'remained an empty name. I was in India till four years ago; since thenI've been flying about Germany and fighting in Poland, where I nearlygot my quietus.""My dear boy, were you wounded?""Bless you, yes; and very proud of it I am. I'll show you my scarssome day; but never mind that now. A while ago I went to England,seized with a sudden desire to find my wife.""I admire your patience in waiting; so flattering to me, you know,"was the sharp answer."It looks like neglect, I confess; but I'd heard reports of yourflirtations, and twice of your being engaged, so I kept away till mywork was done. Was it true?""I never flirt, Sidney, and I was only engaged a little bit once ortwice. I didn't like it, and never mean to do so any more.""I shall see that you don't flirt; but you are very much engaged now,so put on your ring and make no romances about any 'S.P.' but myself.""I shall wait till you clear your character; I'm not going to care fora deceitful impostor. What made you think of this prank?""You did.""I? How?""When in England I saw your picture, though you were many a mile away,and fell in love with it. Your mother told me much about you, and Isaw she would not frown upon my suit. I begged her not to tell you Ihad come, but let me find you and make myself known when I liked.You were in Switzerland, and I went after you. At Coblentz I metSigismund, and told him my case; he is full of romance, and when weoverheard you in the balcony we were glad of the hint. Sigismund waswith me when you came, and admired Helen immensely, so he was wild tohave a part in the frolic. I let him begin, and followed you unseen toHeidelberg, meaning to personate an artist. Meeting you at the castle,I made a good beginning with the vaults and the ring, and meant tofollow it up by acting the baron, you were so bent on finding him, butSigismund forbade it. Turning over a trunk of things left there theyear before, I came upon my old Polish uniform, and decided to be aThaddeus.""How well you did it! Wasn't it hard to act all the time?" asked Amy,wonderingly."Very hard with Helen, she is so keen, but not a bit so with you, foryou are such a confiding soul any one could cheat you. I've betrayedmyself a dozen times, and you never saw it. Ah, it was capital fun toplay the forlorn exile, study English, and flirt with my cousin.""It was very base. I should think you'd be devoured with remorse.Aren't you sorry?""For one thing. I cropped my head lest you should know me. I was proudof my curls, but I sacrificed them all to you.""Peacock! Did you think that one glimpse of your black eyes and finehair would make such an impression that I should recognize you again?""I did, and for that reason disfigured my head, put on a mustache, andassumed hideous spectacles. Did you never suspect my disguise, Amy?""No. Helen used to say that she felt something was wrong, but I neverdid till the other night.""Didn't I do that well? I give you my word it was all done on the spurof the minute. I meant to speak soon, but had not decided how, whenyou came out so sweetly with that confounded old cloak, of which I'dno more need than an African has of a blanket. Then a scene I'd readin a novel came into my head, and I just repeated it con amore. WasI very pathetic and tragical. Amy?""I thought so then. It strikes me as ridiculous now, and I can't helpfeeling sorry that I wasted so much pity on a man who--""Loves you with all his heart and soul. Did you cry and grieve overme, dear little tender thing? and do you think now that I am aheartless fellow, bent only on amusing myself at the expense ofothers? It's not so; and you shall see how true and good and steady Ican be when I have any one to love and care for me. I've been alone solong it's new and beautiful to be petted, confided in, and looked upto by an angel like you."He was in earnest now; she felt it, and her anger melted away like dewbefore the sun."Poor boy! You will go home with us now, and let us take care of youin quiet England. You'll play no more pranks, but go soberly to workand do something that shall make me proud to be your cousin, won'tyou?""If you'll change 'cousin' to 'wife' I'll be and do whatever youplease. Amy, when I was a poor, dying, Catholic foreigner you loved meand would have married me in spite of everything. Now that I'm yourwell, rich, Protestant cousin, who adores you as that Pole nevercould, you turn cold and cruel. Is it because the romance is gone, orbecause your love was only a girl's fancy, after all?""You deceived me and I can't forget it; but I'll try," was the softanswer to his reproaches."Are you disappointed that I'm not a baron?""A little bit.""Shall I be a count? They gave me a title in Poland, a barren honor,but all they had to offer, poor souls, in return for a little blood.Will you be Countess Zytomar and get laughed at for your pains, orplain Mrs. Power, with a good old English name?""Neither, thank you; it's only a girlish fancy, which will soon beforgotten. Does the baron love Helen?" asked Amy, abruptly."Desperately, and she?""I think he will be happy; she is not one to make confidantes, but Iknow by her tenderness with me, her sadness lately, and something inher way of brightening when he comes, that she thinks much of him andloves Karl Hoffman. How it will be with the baron I cannot say.""No fear of him; he wins his way everywhere. I wish I were asfortunate;" and the gay young gentleman heaved an artful sigh andcoughed the cough that always brought such pity to the girl's softeyes.She glanced at him as he leaned pensively on the low wall, lookingdown into the lake, with the level rays of sunshine on his comely faceand figure. Something softer than pity stole into her eye, as shesaid, anxiously,--"You are not really ill, Sidney?""I have been, and still need care, else I may have a relapse," was thereply of this treacherous youth, whose constitution was as sound as abell.Amy clasped her hands, as if in a transport of gratitude, exclaiming,fervently,--"What a relief it is to know that you are not doomed to--"She paused with a shiver, as if the word were too hard to utter, andSidney turned to her with a beaming face, which changed to one ofmingled pain and anger, as she added, with a wicked glance,--"Wear spectacles.""Amy, you've got no heart!" he cried, in a tone that banished her lastdoubt of his love and made her whisper tenderly, as she clung to hisarm,--"No, dear; I've given it all to you."Punctual to the minute, Major Erskine marched into the salon, withMrs. Cumberland on his arm, exclaiming, as he eyed the four youngpeople together again,--"Now, ladies, is it to be 'Paradise Lost' or 'Regained' for theprisoners at the bar?"At this point the astonished gentleman found himself taken possessionof by four excited individuals, for the girls embraced and kissed him,the young men wrung his hand and thanked him, and all seemed benton assuring him that they were intensely happy, grateful andaffectionate.From this assault he emerged flushed and breathless, but beaming withsatisfaction, and saying paternally,--"Bless you, my children, bless you. I hoped and worked for this, andto prove how well I practise what I preach, let me present to you--mywife."As he drew forward the plump widow with a face full of smilesand tears, a second rush was made, and congratulations, salutes,exclamations and embraces were indulged in to every one'ssatisfaction.As the excitement subsided the major said, simply,--"We were married yesterday at Montreaux. Let me hope that you willprove as faithful as I have been, as happy as I am, as blest as Ishall be. I loved this lady in my youth, have waited many years, andam rewarded at last, for love never comes too late."The falter in his cheery voice, the dimness of his eyes, the smile onhis lips, and the gesture with which he returned the pressure of thehand upon his arm, told the little romance of the good major's lifemore eloquently than pages of fine writing, and touched the hearts ofthose who loved him."I have been faithful for eleven years. Give me my reward soon, won'tyou, dear?" whispered Sidney."Don't marry me to-morrow, and if mamma is willing I'll think about itby and by," answered Amy."It is beautiful! let us go and do likewise," said Sigismund to hisbetrothed.But Helen, anxious to turn the thoughts of all from emotions too deepfor words, drew from her pocket a small pearl-colored object, whichshe gave to Amy with mock solemnity, as she said, turning to lay herhand again in her lover's,--"Amy, our search is over. You may keep the gloves; I have thebaron."