Narka. A novel

Front matter

NARKA. 1 flobcl. BY KATHLEEN O'MEARA, AUTHOR OF 'FREDERIC OZANAM,' ' TYA'S STORY,' ' MADAMg^QHI., HER SALON AND HER FRIENDS,' ' THE OLD HOUSE IN PICARDY,' ETC, ETC. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON : RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON, _Pttblishers in Orbittarg to fjer JJajtsts the (Q,\xttn. i888. [Alt Rights Reserved.} CONTENTS OF VOL. I. CHAPTER PAGE I. THE WOLF -....j II. THE HUNT - - - - " 23 III. NARKA AND MARGUERITE EXCHANGE VIEWS ABOUT MANY THINGS - - - 35 IV. THE EVIL OMEN COMES TRUE - - 58 V. WHO FIRED THE SHOT - - 78 VI. ' IT IS NO MURDER IN THE SIGHT OF GOD ' 92 VII. IVAN'S MESSAGE - - - - IOI VIII. THE LEGACY - - - - - II4 IX. BASIL'S DECLARATION - - - - I25 X. WAITING FOR FATHER CHRISTOPHER - 1 54 XI. MARGUERITE'S VOCATION - - - 164 XII. BASIL'S CONFESSION - - - 183 XIII. NARKA'S OATH - - - - - 198 XIV. sibyl's MANŒUVRES - 204 XV.

THE CLEMENCY OF THE CZAR - CONTENTS. IV CHAPTER PAGE XVI. TIDINGS FROM BASIL - - - - 223 XVII. THE MEETING WITH MARGUERITE - - 235 XVIII. THE MEETING WITH SIBYL - - - 252 XIX. SIBYL REOPENS HER SALONS - - - 263 XX. THE WOMAN WHOM BASIL LOVED - - 282 XXI. MARGUERITE'S SYMPATHY - - - NARKA >»{o«

Chapter I. The Wolf

T was All Souls' Eve. The winter was setting in early, and threatened, or perhaps we should say promised, to be a severe one ; for a hard winter was not looked upon as a misfortune at Yrakow, the ancestral home of Prince Zorokoff. Ice and snow brought too many pleasures in their train ever to be unwelcome there. A group, consisting of young Prince Basil Zorokoff, his brother-in-law, M.de Beaucrillon, i VOL. I. NARKA and three ladies, was assembled in an old fashioned tapestried room of the castle. The two men were smoking cigarettes, and dis cussing sport between long-drawn puffs. The three ladies were sitting round the samovar. They presented three as distinct types as could have been brought together with a view to the improvement of each by contrast. Sibyl, Comtesse de Beaucrillon, the daugh ter of the house, was as blond as a Scandi navian, with light blue eyes and fair hair ; her hands were so small as to be almost out of proportion with her figure, which was tall and full ; they were round and dimpled like a baby's, with the delicate nails and pink finger tips that one seldom sees in perfection except in babies.

Her movements had the subtle, fascinating grace that reminded you of a kitten, or rather of a young cat, for there was nothing ofthe undignified friskiness ofa kitten about Sibyl ; she was patrician to the tips of her fingers ; her manners united the refined elegance of a Frenchwoman with the soft serpentine grace of the women of the North. Marguerite de Beaucrillon was just below the middle height, but she looked tiny beside her stately sister-in-law. She had no pretensions to beauty, yet her face was pleasanter to look at than many a beautiful one ; her clear olive skin, her warm colour, her wistful bright brown eyes, her dimples, and her glossy hair were suggestive of youth, health, and happiness, and these natural advantages were set off by the most becoming toilets ; for Marguerite had a French girl's taste and principles about dress, and considered it seriously as one of the daily duties of her state of life.

She was careful and very successful in her combination of colours and effects. Yet you would never have accused her of coquetry in the ordinary sense. If you had been so uncharitable, one glance into her face would have converted you. Her eyes were as free from consciousness as a child's, and their language was as transparent. Sibyl used to say to her, ' If you don't want people to see what you are thinking of, drop your lids, for those eyes of yours are like windows into i — NARKA your brain, that let one see your thoughts coming and going.' Narka Larik, the adopted sister of Madame de Beaucrillon, was the tallest of the three women, and cast in altogether an ampler mould. If her figure had been less perfectly proportioned, it might have seemed too large ; her great, luminous blue-black eyes, some times quite blue, sometimes quite black, were soft as velvet, but under the softness there lurked intimation of a fiery vitality ready to awake and emit sparks at the lightest touch ; her mouth was, perhaps, a trifle too full for classical perfection, but its curves were so exquisite, the sensitive play of the lips so lovely, that you never thought of criticis ing ; the clear tint of her complexion was like the whiteness of some white flower ; her hair, of that warm, red gold beloved of Titian, was knotted in thick coils at the back of her head, and fell in rippling waves over her low square forehead.

There was some thing wild in the character of Narka's beauty, in the lines of her figure ; she stood and moved with the strong, elastic ease of a panther, or of some other grand, free, un tamed creature. Beautiful, incomparably more beautiful than Sibyl, there was, never theless, something wanting in her beauty which Sibyl's possessed — something impal pable but distinct, which marks the difference between a highly finished work of art and a spontaneous growth of Nature in her happiest and most generous mood. This difference was not noticeable except when the patrician sister was brought into close contact with the plebeian, and even then no one was conscious of it, perhaps, but Narka herself. She knew that she was beautiful, and far more gifted in many ways than Sibyl, and yet she felt as much her inferior as the lowly born maid in mediæval times may have felt herself below the noble demoiselle in whose train she was brought up.

The three friends were chatting over their teacups, planning costumes for a fancy ball that was to take place at the castle before Christmas. NARKA ' I wish I could hit upon something that would combine everything! Marguerite said, putting her head on one side with a pretty bird-like motion, which always bewitched Basil Zorokoff. ' Why don't you consult me, cousin ?' he said, holding out his cigarette between his first and second fingers, and gazing steadily at Marguerite, while the twinkle in his blue eyes belied the extreme seriousness of his handsome face. ' Well ?' said Marguerite, with another bewitching turn of her head from left to right. ' Little Red Riding Hood would suit you to perfection. The colour would be be coming, and your eyes would shine like diamonds under the scarlet hood, and you would look like a Lilliputian Venus in the short petticoats.' ' And you would play the Wolf, and howl at me ?' ' And crunch you up ; that I should do with great satisfaction !' ' How many wolves' skins would it take to make a costume for you, I wonder ?' said Marguerite, measuring the tall young fellow's height with a glance of saucy impertinence. ' A pity it is so early in the winter, or you might go and shoot half a dozen.

How exciting it must be to hear them howling in the forest ! They never come till Christmas, do they ?' Basil had not time to answer, when a distant sound, penetrating through the heavily curtained windows, made them all start. There it is again !' said Narka. What is it ?' asked Marguerite. Listen !' Sibyl held up her finger, and the gentlemen put down their cigarettes. A long dismal howl, perceptibly nearer this time, was again audible. ' Is it a wolf?' asked Marguerite, under her breath. ' At this time of the year !' said M. de Beaucrillon. ' You were just now telling me that they never came till the snow was deep ?' NARKA ' No more they do,' replied Basil. ' I never before knew, except when I was a child ' ' There it is again !' interrupted Sibyl, ' and this time quite close. Let us go up to the gallery !' ' Oh, how dreadful !' exclaimed Marguerite, who seemed too horrified to move. ' If he were to dash at the windows and break in !' ' He certainly would if he saw you, little cousin,' said Basil ; ' but as he can't, we have nothing to fear.

Come along up to the gallery, and see what a live wolf looks like.' He drew her arm through his, and led her off, excited and only half reluctant. The others had all fled up before them, and were already grouped in the deep mullioned window at the farther end of the gallery, the only one that was in shadow, for it was a brilliant night, and the full moon, riding high in the heavens, sent, as her largess, broad bars of silver light through the row of eight windows on one side of the gallery. Basil, still holding Marguerite's arm within his, joined the others, and they all stood watching. The broad gravel drive shone like granite in the dazzling whiteness of the moonshine ; one wing of the castle was in black shadow, the other in brilliant light, every arch and moulding carved in ebony and silver. ' Where is the brute sneaking ?' said Basil, in a low voice. ' He can't be far off,' said Narka ; ' the last howl was very close.' They waited with bated breath.

Nothing stirred. The park was so silent you might have heard the stars scintillating. 'Look! there he is!' exclaimed Sibyl, in a whisper, pointing towards the clock tower, that was in shadow. They pressed closer, and strained their eyes. ' I see him !' Marguerite cried, and shudder ing, she clutched Basil's arm, as if safety lay in his coat-sleeve. Basil bore it manfully. ' Never fear, little cousin. See, he is coming on !' NARKA The beast advanced a few steps and paused, one half of his lank gray body in shadow, the other in sheen. Suddenly he pricked his ears, held one forefoot suspended, and turned his head towards the park in an attitude of intense listening. ' Does he hear something ?' asked M. de Beaucrillon. ' It looks like it,' Basil replied uneasily. ' I will fetch my gun.' ' So will I,' said his brother-in-law.

And they hurried away together. Presently the wolf turned his head towards the house, moved forward a few steps, and glared up with his red eye-balls. To Marguerite there was something deli cious in the combination of horror and a sense of comfortable safety that she experienced in looking down at the ferocious animal from behind thick stone walls. ' Do you think he heard us speaking ?' she asked, almost under her breath. Narka's fear and Sibyl's was that he had heard something else. What an age the gentlemen were in bringing their fire-arms ! They had in reality been away about two minutes. ' Oh, here they come !' said Sibyl. ' Open the window as quickly and quietly as you can,' said Basil. But before there was time to obey, the wolf turned his head, and uttering a long howl, bounded off, and dis appeared round the clock tower. ' Confound the brute !' muttered Basil ' I wonder why he darted away so suddenly ?' said Narka. ' Probably it was some noise in the thicket, an animal prowling about,' replied Basil ; but he did not seem convinced. ' Suppose it were some one coming through the park ?' suggested Marguerite. ' How awful if it were !' ' Nobody is likely to be out this time of night,' returned her cousin. ' Hush ! listen !' cried M. de Beaucrillon, laying his hand on Basil's shoulder.

Every ear was strained. Yes, there was a sound of galloping hoofs in the distance. NARKA 12 ' Ought we to send out men with fire-arms ?' asked Sibyl. ' Where to ?' said Basil. ' That sound comes from the left, and the brute made for the forest. Besides, no one would be abroad at this hour without fire-arms. I dare say it is Larchoff. I met him riding in to X. this afternoon. He often rides back late. He is sure to be armed. It would be a good joke if the wolf pulled him down and made a meal of him !' ' No such luck !' said Narka ; ' beasts of a species do not prey on each other.' This speech sounded unnaturally cynical on the lips of a young girl. Marguerite shrank imperceptibly away from her, and moved closer to Basil. M. de Beaucrillon felt the same repulsion so strongly that, under pretence of putting aside his gun, he went out of the room.

Presently Basil carried his to a safe corner, and then, stepping into the deep embrasure of one of the windows flooded with light, called to Marguerite to join him. She went tripping lightly across the polished floor, and they stood together looking out at the moon lit landscape. Sibyl and Narka remained alone. They were both more disturbed than they wished to appear. Superstitious as genuine Musco vites, the coming of the wolf before the seasonable time was to them an ill-omen, all the more alarming from its vagueness. ' The wolf waits for the white carpet,' was a saying of the peasants ; and when he appeared before the carpet was spread, some calamity was certain to follow. ' Well, cousin, you have had a glimpse of one of our winter amusements. How do you like it ?' asked Basil. ' I don't like it at all,' replied Marguerite. ' You were saying, only a little while ago, that it must be so exciting, and wanting me to turn wolf and howl at you.' ' Do you think that wolf overheard me ?' ' I will tell you a secret,' said Basil : ' I asked the brute to come and howl for you NARKA 14 to-night.

At first he flatly refused, like the brute that he is ; then I bribed him.' ' What bribe did you offer him ?' ' You won't tell ?' He bent his tall figure down until his moustache almost touched her ear ; ' I told him that Larchoff was coming this way, and that he could sup off him.' ' Oh !' said Marguerite, drawing away with a little shudder. ' Why do you want that poor man to be devoured by a wild beast ?' ' Because that poor man is more destructive than any wild beast alive : he is the devil !' ' Is he so wicked ? Who is he ? ' Who is Larchoff ? He is our neighbour, and dates his descent from Peter the Great, who gave the family a title. He is a liar and a hypocrite ; as cruel as a tiger, and as greedy as a wolf ; cowardly as a rat, and dishonest as a Jew. He has all the bad instincts of man and beast combined ; he is only fit company for the devil, and that is where the curses of good men are speeding him night and day.' 'Ah ! but that is wicked !' said Marguerite, with a shudder. ' They ought to pray for him that he may repent.' ' Pray for Larchoff!' Basil threw back his head with a low laugh ; the notion of any body praying for Larchoff was immensely funny to him. ' If the prayers were heard, and that fiend were to repent and enter the kingdom of heaven, I hope I may go some where else !

He has done more evil and made more men and women miserable than any man of this generation — unless, per haps, his master the Czar. You know about old Larchoff, this fellow's father ? No ? Sibyl never told you ? Well, listen. Jacob Larik, Narka's father, was a Jew ; they are a vile race, but Jacob was an exception — he was honest, and very rich. He traded in furs, and he was clever and industrious, as the Jews mostly are. He lived in one of Larchoff's villages, unluckily. One day Larchoff, who, like his son, was always in want of money, went to Jacob, and said he must pay down fifty thousand roubles or pack up. Of course Jacob paid them. At NARKA the end of six months Larchoff came down on him for another fifty thousand. Jacob paid again ; and so it went on until there was no more blood in the stone.

Then Jacob fell on his knees and besought Larchoff, for the sake of the God of Abraham, to spare him and give him time to gain the money, and he would go on working and paying while he could ; but Larchoff spat on him, and mocked him, and then went off and denounced him as being deep in a plot against the life of the Emperor. The poor wretch was seized, and flogged and tortured to make him confess ; and as he could not confess, he was sent to Siberia. Fortunately he died on the road.' ' Oh my God ! . . . And Narka ?' ' Narka was a small toddle at the time. She and her brother Sergius and Madame Larik came to live with us. Narka was educated with Sibyl, Sergius with me ; he was such a dear good fellow, and so clever ! He wanted to be a physician, and just after old Larchoff died he passed his examinations brilliantly.

We were all proud of him, and everybody made much of him ; all the people in the district invited him and made a fuss over him. It was very foolish, for it enraged Larchoff fils; he knew that his father had been hated for the murder, as it was called, of old Jacob, and that he himself was hated as much as his father. He re solved to be revenged on us all by ruining Sergius. He went and denounced the poor fellow. Oh, it was a fiendish piece of work !' muttered Basil, with suppressed passion. ' What happened him ?' ' Sergius ? He was sent to Siberia.' ' And is he there still ?' 'Yes — his bones are there. He lived three years at the gold diggings, and then luckily he died. Poor Sergius !' Basil's voice shook with emotion. After a silence Marguerite said, ' And his mother, and Narka ?' ' They lived through it, as people do.

It broke their hearts ; but people live with VOL. I. NARKA broken hearts, as they do with broken legs. We were all very fond of them. Sibyl and Narka are like sisters ; my mother always spoke of Narka as her adopted child, and after her death the two were inseparable.' ' And that cruel, horrid man stays on here ? Does anybody speak to him ?' ' Speak to him ! They cringe to him, they lick his feet.' ' You never speak to him ?' ' I spoke to him no later than this after noon.' ' Oh !' in a tone of shocked astonishment. ' My child, if I offended Larchoff, in spite of my father's present influence at Court, he would never rest till he had sent me and all belonging to me after the Lariks.' 'Is it possible? Why, he must be the devil!' ' My sweet cousin, I began by telling you that he was.' ' And is there nothing to protect people against him ?

Is there no law in Russia ?' 'Yes; there is^the law of might and cunning. After a moment's silence Marguerite said, in a confidential sotto voce, looking up at Basil : ' I wonder why you don't get up a revolution. If I were a Russian, I should be a Nihilist — is not that what you call them ?' Basil's eyes flashed, and he made a sudden movement as if he would have caught her in his arms ; but he checked himself, and said, with a laugh : ' If you preach treason of that sort, petite Franchise, I will tell Larchoff, and you will be escorted to the frontier immediately, and perhaps get a whipping first.' While this conversation was going on in the deep recess of one window, Sibyl and Narka were talking confidentially in another. ' I wonder whether Basil thinks at all seriously of Sophie ?' Sibyl remarked. ' I do long to see him married and out of harm's way !' ' Are you sure that to marry him to the sister of Ivan Gorff would be taking him out of harm's way ?' 2 NARKA Sibyl did not answer. ' Supposing it were,' resumed Narka, ' I could understand your overlooking a good deal to make him settle down, as you say ; but I can't see how the Prince should desire such a marriage for his son.

Paul Gorff was a trader, and Ivan carries on his father's business — on a grand scale, it is true ; still, he is in trade ; and the daughter and sister of a trader is not the wife one would expect Prince Zorokoff to select for his son.' 'It is hardly a selection. Who else is there to prefer to Sophie ? She is the only girl in the district. Basil never goes to St. Petersburg except to pay his court to the Emperor and rush back. You know how he entertains us caricaturing all the girls he sees there ? Then Sophie's mother was noble ; it was considered a dreadful disgrace her making that misalliance with Paul Gorff. Besides, she is sole heiress to her uncle's enormous fortune, and Basil, with all his in difference to money, knows very well that it is not a thing to be despised ; for I suspect my father is melting down his own fortune and ours as fast as he can at St. Petersburg.' Narka did not reply.

She knew well enough that the Gorff money-bags were the bait that was making Prince Zorokoff swallow his pride, and court the trader's pretty daughter for his son. But would Basil prove an accomplice in the transaction ? ' Basil is far too proud to make a mes alliance for money,' continued Sibyl, con tradicting her last words, for she felt instinc tively what was in Narka's mind ; ' but he does admire Sophie. Besides, he is so chivalrous I believe he would make any sacrifice to deliver her from that brute Larchoff. Ivan says that Larchoff is trying hard to ingratiate himself, and Sophie naturally loathes the sight of him ; but if she were to let Larchoff see this, the con sequences might be awful to herself and Ivan. We know of what Larchoff is capable.' ' Yes,' replied Narka, in a level undertone ; ' and it would not be pleasant to have his NARKA. 22 vengeance turned upon Basil as a successful rival.' Before Sibyl could answer, M. de Beau crillon interrupted them. ' It appears the whole house is in a com motion about the wolf,' he said. ' My man tells me they are prophesying the most ap palling events- — fires, earthquakes, murders, and I know not what — on the strength of it.' ' They are a pack of fools !' Basil called out, walking up with Marguerite through the checkered light. ' That wolf came with the best intentions, solely to amuse Margue rite.

To-morrow he will provide entertain ment for you by giving us an opportunity to hunt him.' ' Your Russian hospitality is sublime, mon cher,' replied M. de Beaucrillon ; ' the very wild beasts are summoned to contribute to the enjoyment of your guests.' And so, laughing, they went out of the gallery together, and separated for the night.

Chapter II. The Hunt

K§^H1HE sensation caused by the appear- H?n /?% ancc °' rhe wolf was increased ISi_L--»^| rather than lessened next morning by the prospect of a hunt, which diverted the superstitious terrors of the household into more healthy excitement. It was a splendid day ; the sky was clear as sapphire, and the frosty landscape glittered in the morning light. The news had been taken down to the village at daybreak, and when the ladies came downstairs, the hunt was assembled on the lawn, every available man in the household being present with his gun ; the villagers and moujiks in their costumes NARKA and sheepskins, the dogs in force, and all in high good-humour. Narka and Sibyl entered into the prospect of the sport with keen gusto ; but though Marguerite was alive to the picturesque side of the adventure, the idea of a close en counter with such ferocious game was too terrifying to admit of her entering into it with any sympathy. ' Why not set traps for the wolf, instead of exposing men's lives in going to hunt him ?' she asked, as they watched the scene on the lawn. ' But then where would be the sport ?' replied Narka. ' Yes ; that is what the men delight in,' said Sibyl ; ' and that is what wolves are for — to make sport for them.' ' It is the nature of men, I suppose, to like such sport,' said Marguerite ; ' but I can't understand your liking it for them.

Just think if the wolf were to turn on Gaston or Basil, and kill either of them !' ' Cherie, I'm not going to think anything so unpleasant,' cried Sibyl. ' You are a little coward, you French girl !' ' Yes, I am ; but at any rate I have the courage of my cowardice — I'm not ashamed to own it.' ' There is no shame in bein^ a coward for those we love,' said Sibyl caressingly. Marguerite blushed scarlet. ' No,' she said ; ' I dare say even Gaston would be frightened if he saw me going out to fight a wolf.' Then, with a little sudden turn of her head, she looked away. Narka saw the blush, and saw the move ment to hide it. Did ' those they love ' include for Marguerite somebody besides Gaston ? Girls don't blush violently at being suspected of cowardice on their brothers' behalf. ' Here comes Ivan Gorff,' said Sibyl, as there emerged from round the clock tower a broad-shouldered, loosely jointed, bushy headed young man.

Basil broke from a distant group to go and greet him. As the two men walked up the NARKA broad gravel path they presented a striking contrast. Basil was the type of the polished, highly civilized Russian seigneur, very tall, with clear complexion, blue eyes, abundant fair hair, and golden moustache ; his counten ance was frank and full of intelligence, with a singular mobility of expression. Ivan Gorff was by no means vulgar or ill looking, but his large head and massive shoulders, his loosely built frame and his heavy, shuffling gait, showed to increased disadvantage beside the finely proportioned figure and noble bearing of the young Prince. Ivan paid his respects to the three ladies, raising their hands to his lips after the chivalrous fashion of his countrymen ; but he performed the ceremony with a brusquerie which was the result not so much of shyness as of a certain awkwardness that seems to be inseparable from a badly built human frame. 'What does the village say, Ivan Gorff?' inquired Sibyl. ' It says that a pack of wolves, variously estimated from five to five-and-twenty, came down and kept up a howling round the castle from midnight till dawn,' replied Ivan. ' That is how history gets written,' observed M. de Beaucrillon. ' What do they say brought the wolf down ?' inquired Sibyl. ' They say he came for no good ; they are terrified out of their wits.' ' They are a pack of idiots,' said Basil ; ' I suspect some rogue has been trapping cubs in the forest, and the mother came down to look for them.

The howl sounded un commonly like the call of the she-wolf.' ' That was the first thing that occurred to me,' said Ivan; 'but they all swore they knew nothing about cubs being trapped.' ' They were sure to swear that anyhow,' laughed Basil. ' By the way,' said Ivan, ' the wolf was near trapping a cub of the devil's last night. Larchoff came up with him on the road, and if he had not put a bullet through the brute in time, and sent him yelling away on three legs, he was a dead man.' NARKA ' Whom did he tell that stunning lie to ?' asked Basil. ' Father Christopher ; he met Larchoff this morning on his way to see some sick woman in the wood.' ' I wish Father Christopher did not meet him so often,' said Basil ; ' he may brave the fellow once too often, and my father may not be able to pull him out of his fangs.' ' Father Christopher never thinks of that,' said Narka ; ' he only thinks of sparing the peasants, of putting himself between them and Larchoff s cruelty.

If it were not for Father Christopher, Larchoff would be flaying them alive, and flogging them of a morning to get an appetite for his breakfast.' ' Oh !' Marguerite gave a little scream. ' She is only joking, cousin,' said Basil. ' You should not say those things before her,' he added, angrily, to Narka. ' No ; it is bad for her French nerves,' observed M. de Beaucrillon. He said it seriously, almost solemnly ; but Sibyl sus pected he was mocking. IHE HUNT. 29 ' The Father is imprudent,' she remarked ; ' it would be much better for everybody concerned if he tried to conciliate Larchoff.' ' Yes,' said Ivan ; ' if he would just my- Lord-Count him and flatter him a bit, it would serve the peasants better.' ' The Father is too honest to flatter any body,' said Narka, ' much less such a vile thing as Larchoff.' ' Pshaw!' retorted Ivan — ' the notion of wastingfine sentiment on a wolf !