Ten-foot Chain — Out of the Dark
BY MAX BRAND
The principality of Pornia is not a large country and in the ordinary course of history it should have been swallowed entire, centuries ago, by one of the kingdoms which surround it.
Its situation has saved it from this fate, for it is the buffer state between two great monarchies whose jealousy has preserved for Pornia an independent existence.
Despite its independence, Pornia has never received much consideration from the rest of Europe, and the aim of its princes for many generations has been to foist it into the great councils by a strong alliance with one of the two kingdoms to which it serves as a buffer.
The long-desired opportunity came at last in the reign of Alexander VI, who, one morning, commanded Rudolph of Herzvina to appear at the palace.
As soon as the worthy old baron appeared, Alexander spoke to him as follows: "Rudolph, you are an old and respected counselor, a devoted servant of the State, and therefore I am delighted to announce that the greatest honor is about to descend upon your family, an honor so great that the entire State of Pornia will be elevated thereby.
The Crown Prince Charles wishes to make your daughter his wife!"
At this he stepped back, the better to note the joy with which old Rudolph would receive this announcement, but, to his astonishment, the baron merely bowed his head and sighed.
"Your highness," said Rudolph of Herzvina, "I have long known of the attachment which the crown prince has for my daughter, Bertha, but I fear that the marriage can never be consummated."
"Come, come!"
said the prince genially.
"It is a far leap indeed from Baron of Herzvina to father-in-law to Prince Charles, but there have been stranger things in history than this, though never anything that could so effectually elevate Pornia.
Have no fear of Charles.
He loves your daughter; he is strong-minded as the very devil; he will override any opposition from his father.
As a matter of fact, it is no secret that Charles is already practically the ruler over his kingdom.
So rejoice, Herzvina, and I will rejoice with you!"
But the baron merely shook his head sadly and repeated: "I fear the marriage can never be consummated."
"Why not?"
said the prince in some heat.
"I tell you, his royal highness loves the girl.
I could read passion even in the stilted language of his ambassador's message.
Why not?"
"I was not thinking of his royal highness, but of the girl.
She will not marry him."
The prince dropped into a chair with jarring suddenness.
Rudolph continued hastily: "I have talked with Bertha many times and seriously of the matter; I have tried to convince her of her duty; but she will not hear me.
The foolish girl says she does not love his highness."
The prince smote his hands together in an ecstasy of impatience.
"Love!
Love!
In the name of God, Herzvina, what has love to do with this?
This is the thing for which Pornia has waited during centuries.
Through this alliance I can make a treaty that will place Pornia once and forever upon the map of the diplomatic powers.
Love!"
"I have said all this to her, but she is obdurate."
"Does she expect some fairy prince?
She is not a child; she is not even--forgive me--beautiful."
"True.
She is not even pretty, but even homely women, your highness, will sometimes think of love.
It is a weakness of the sex."
He was not satirical; he was very earnest indeed.
He continued: "I have tried every persuasion.
She only says in reply: 'He is too old.
I cannot love him.'
" An inspiration came to Alexander of Pornia.
Under the stress of it he rose and so far forgot himself as to clap a hand upon the shoulder of Herzvina.
In so doing he had to reach up almost as high as his head, for the princes of Pornia have been small men, time out of mind.
"Baron," he said, "will you let me try my hand at persuasion?"
"It would be an honor, sire.
My family is ever at the disposal of my prince."
He answered with a touch of emotion: "I know it, Rudolph; but will you trust the girl in my hands for a number of days?
A thought has come to me.
I know I can convince her that this love of which she dreams is a thing of the flesh alone, a physical necessity.
Come, send her to me, and I shall tear away her illusions.
She will not thank me for it, but she will marry the crown prince."
"I will send her to the palace to-day."
"Very good; and first tell her why I wish to speak with her.
It may be that of herself she will change her mind when she learns the wishes of her prince.
Farewell."
And the prince rode off to a review of the troops of the city guard.
So it was that Bertha of Herzvina sat for a long time in a lonely room, after her arrival at the palace before the door opened, a man in livery bowed for the entrance of the prince, and she found herself alone with her sovereign.
Automatically she curtsied, and he let her remain bowed while he slowly drew off his white gloves.
He still wore his general's uniform with the stiff padding which would not allow his body to grow old, for a prince of Pornia must always look the soldier.
"Sit down," he ordered, and as she obeyed he commenced to walk the room.
He never sat quietly through an interview if he could avoid it; a constitutional weakness of the nerves made it almost impossible for him to meet another person's eyes.
The pacing up and down gave a plausible reason for the continual shifting of his glance.
"A good day, a very good day," he said.
"The hussars were wonderful."
His shoulders strained further back.
The prince himself always rode at the head of the hussars; in her childhood she had admired him.
He stopped at a window and hummed a marching air.
That was a planned maneuver, for his back was far more royal than his face, with its tall forehead and diminutive mouth and chin.
She felt as if she were in the presence of a uniformed automaton.
He broke off his humming and spoke without turning.
"Well?"
"My decision is unchanged."
"Impossible!
In the length of a whole day even a woman must think twice."
"Yes, many times."
"You will not marry him?"
"I cannot love him."
He whirled, and the pale blue eyes flashed at her a brief glance which made her cringe.
It was as if an X-ray had been turned on her heart.
"Love!"
he said softly, and she shuddered again.
"Because he is old?
Bertha, you are no longer a child.
Other women marry for what they may term love.
It is your privilege to marry for the State.
That is the nobler thing."
He smiled and nodded, repeating for his own ear: "The nobler thing!
What is greater than such service--what is more glorious than to forget self and marry for the good of the thousands?"
"I have an obligation to myself."
"Who has filled you with so many childish ideas?"
"They have grown of themselves, sire."
The pacing up and down the room recommenced.
"Child, have you no desire to serve me?
I mean, your country?"
She answered slowly, as if feeling for her words: "It is impossible that I should be able to serve you through my dishonor.
If I should marry the crown prince, my life would be one long sleep, sire.
I would not dare awaken to the reality."
His head tilted and he laughed noiselessly.
A weakness of the throat prevented him from raising his voice even in times of the greatest excitement.
"A soul that sleeps, eh?
The kiss of love will awaken it?"
He surveyed her with brief disdain.
"My dear, you scorn titles, and yet as an untitled woman you are not a match for the first red-faced tradesman's daughter.
Stand up!"
She rose and he led her in front of a pier glass.
Solemnly he studied her pale image.
"A sleeping soul!"
he repeated.
She covered her face.
"Will that bait catch the errant lover, Bertha?"
"God will make up the difference."
He cursed softly.
She had not known he could be so moved.
"Poor child, let me talk with you."
He led her back to a chair almost with kindness and sat somewhat behind her so that he need not meet her eyes.
"This love you wait for--it is not a full-grown god, dear girl, but a blind child.
Given a man and a woman and a certain propinquity, and nature does the rest.
We put a mask on nature and call it love, we name an abstraction and call it God.
Love!
Love!
Love!
It is a pretty disguise--no more.
Do you understand?"
"I will not."
She listened to his quick breathing.
"Bertha, if I were to chain you with a ten-foot chain to the first man off the streets and leave you alone with him for three days, what would happen?"
Her hand closed on the arm of the chair.
He rose and paced the room as his idea grew.
"Your eyes would criticize him and your shame would fight in behalf of your--soul?
And the sight of your shame would keep the man in check.
But suppose the room were dark--suppose you could not see his face and merely knew that a man was there--suppose _he_ could not see and merely knew that a woman was there?
What would happen?
Would it be love?
Pah!
Love is no more deified than hunger.
If it is satisfied, it goes to sleep; if it is satiated, it turns to loathing.
Aye, at the end of the three days you would be glad enough to have the ten-foot chain cut.
But first what would happen?"
The vague terror grew coldly in her, for she could see the idea taking hold of him like a hand.
"If I were to do this, the world might term it a shameful thing, but I act for Pornia--not for myself.
I consider only the good of the State.
By this experiment I prove to you that love is not God, but blind nature.
Yes, and if you knew it as it is, would you oppose me longer?
The thought grows upon me!
Speak!"
Her smile made her almost beautiful.
"Sire, in all the world there is only one man for every woman."
"Book talk."
He set his teeth because he could not meet her eyes.
"And who will bring you this one man?"
"God."
Once more the soundless laugh.
"Then I shall play the part of God.
Bertha, you must now make your decision: a marriage for the good of the State, or the ten-foot chain, the dark room--and love!"
"Even you will not dare this, sire."
"Bertha, there is nothing I do not dare.
What would be known?
I give orders that this room be utterly darkened; I send secret police to seize a man from the city at random and fetter him to a chain in that room;
then I bring you to the room and fasten you to the other end of the chain, and for three days I have food introduced into the room.
Results?
For the man, death; for you, a knowledge first of yourself and, secondly, of love.
The State will benefit."
"It is bestial--incredible."
"Bestial?
Tut!
I play the part of God and even surpass Him.
I put you face to face with a temptation through which you shall come to know yourself.
You lose a dream; you gain a fact.
It is well.
Shame will guard the secret in your heart--and the State will benefit.
Still you see that I am paternal--merciful.
I do not punish you for your past obstinacy.
I still give you a choice.
Bertha, will you marry as I wish, or will you force me to play the part of God?"
"I shall not marry."
"Ah, you will wait for God to make up the difference.
It is well--very well; _le Dieu c'est moi_.
Ha!
That is greater than the phrase of Louis XIV.
You shall have still more time, but the moment the sun goes down, if I do not hear from you, I shall ring a bell that will send my secret police out to seize a man indiscriminately from the masses of the city.
I shall not even stipulate that he be young.
My trust in nature is--absolute.
_Adieu!
_" She made up her mind the moment he left the room.
She drew on her cloak.
Before the pier glass she paused.
"Aye," she murmured, "I could not match the first farmer's daughter.
But still there must be one man in the world--and God will make up the difference!"
She threw open the door which gave on a passage leading to a side entrance.
A grenadier of the palace guard jumped to attention and presented arms.
"Pardon," he said.
He completely blocked the hall; the prince had left nothing to chance.
She started to turn back and then hesitated and regarded the man carefully.
"Fritz!"
she said at last, for she recognized the peasant who had been a stable-boy on her father's estate before he took service in the grenadiers.
"You are Fritz Barr!"
He flushed with pleasure.
"_Madame_ remembers me?"
"And my little black pony you used to take care of?"
"Yes, yes!"
He grinned and nodded; and then she noted a revolver in the holster at his side.
"What are your orders, Fritz?"
"To let no one pass down this hall.
I am sorry, _madame_."
"But if I were to ask you for your revolver?"
He stirred uneasily and she took money from her purse and gave it to him.
"With this you could procure another weapon?"
He drew a long breath; the temptation was great.
"I could, _madame_."
"Then do so.
It will never be known from whom I received the gun--and my need is desperate--desperate!"
He unbuckled the weapon without a word, and with it in her hand she returned to the room.
There was a tall western window, and before this she drew up a chair to watch the setting of the sun.
"Will he ring the bell when the edge of the sun touches the hills or when it is completely set?"
she thought.
The white circle grew yellow; then it took on a taint of orange, bulging oddly at the sides into a clumsy oval.
From the gardens below came a stir of voices and then the thrill of a girl's laughter.
She smiled as she listened, and, leaning from the window, the west wind blew to her the scent of flowers.
She sat there for a long time, breathing deeply of the fragrance and noting all the curves of the lawn with a still, sad pleasure.
The green changed from bright to dark; when she looked up the sun had set.
As she turned from the gay western sky, the room was doubly dim and the breeze of the evening set the curtains rustling and whispering.
Silence she was prepared for, but not those ghostly voices, not the shift and sweep of the shadows.
She turned the electric switch, closing her eyes to blur the shock of the sudden deluge of light.
The switch clicked, but when she opened her eyes the room was still dark; they had cut the connecting wires.
Thereafter her mind went mercifully blank, for what she faced was, like birth and death, beyond comprehension.
Noise at the windows roused her from the daze at last and she found that a number of workmen were sealing the room so that neither light nor sound could enter or escape.
The only air would be from the ventilator.
And still she could not realize what had happened, what was to happen, until the last sounds of the workmen ceased and the deep, dread silence began; silence that had a pulse in it--the beating of her heart.
She was standing in the middle of the room when the first shapes formed in the black night, and terror hovered about her suddenly, touching her as with cold fingers.
She felt her way back to a corner and crouched there against the wall, waiting, waiting.
They had seized the doomed man long before this.
They must have bound and gagged him and carried him to the palace.
A thousand types of men passed before her inward eye--thin-faced clerks, men as pale as the belly of a dead fish; bearded monsters, gross and thick-lipped, with thunderous laughter; laborers, stamped with patient weariness--and all whom she saw carried the sign of the beast in their eyes.
She tried to pray, but the voice of the prince rang in her ears: "_Le Dieu, c'est moi!
_" and when she named God in her prayers, she visualized Alexander's face, the pale, small eyes, the colorless hair, the lofty brow, the mouth whose tight lips could not be disguised by even the careful mustache.
When a key turned in a door, she sprang to her feet with a cry of horror.
"It is I," said the prince.
"I am dying; I cannot stay here; I will marry whom and when you will."
"Ah, my dear, you should have spoken before sunset.
I warned you, and I never change my mind.
It is only for three days, remember.
Also, it is in the interest of science.
Beyond that, I have quite taken a fancy to playing God for you for three days.
Do you understand?"
The even, mocking tones guided her to him.
She fell at his feet and strained his thin knees against her breast.
"Come!
Be reasonable, Bertha.
This is justice."
"Sire, I want no justice.
For God's sake, be merciful."
She heard the shaken breath of his soundless laughter.
"Is it so?
You should be grateful to me.
Trust me, child, I am bringing you the love of which you have dreamed.
Ha!
Ha!
_Le Dieu, c'est moi!
_" The clanking of the chain which he carried stilled her voice.
It hushed even the thunder of her heart.
She rose and waited patiently while the manacle was affixed to her wrist.
The prince crossed the room and tapped on the door, which opened, and by a faint light from without Bertha discovered two men carrying a third into the room.
She strained her eyes, but could make out no faces.
The burden was laid on the floor; a metallic sound told her that she was fettered to the unknown.
The prince said: "You are a brave girl.
All may yet be well.
Then human nature is finer than I think.
We shall see.
As for your lover, your gift from God, he is sleeping soundly now.
It may be an hour before the effects of the drug wear away.
During that time you can think of love.
Food will be placed three times a day within the door yonder.
You can readily find it by feeling your way around the wall.
Farewell."
When the door closed she started to retreat to her corner, but the chain instantly drew taut with a rattle.
Strangely enough, much of her fear left her now that she was face to face with the danger; temptation, the prince had called it.
She smiled as she remembered.
When the man awoke and learned their situation, she had no doubt as to how he would act.
She had seen the sign of the beast in the eyes of many men, great and small; she had seen it and understood.
The revolver might save her for a time, but what if she slept?
She knew it would be almost impossible to remain awake during three days and nights.
The moment her eyes closed the end would come.
It seemed better that she should fire the bullet now.
When he recovered his senses, it would be difficult to shoot effectively in the dark, for this was not the gloom of night--it was an absolute void, black, thick, impenetrable.
She could not make out her hand at the slightest distance from her eyes.
He might even attack her from behind and knock the revolver from her hand before she could shoot.
Sooner or later the man must die.
Even if she did not kill him it would be accomplished by the command of the prince at the end of the three days.
Far better that it should be done at once--that he should never awaken from his sleep.
She reached the decision calmly and crept forward to him.
Very lightly she passed her hand over his clothes.
She had to move his arm to uncover the breast over his heart; the arm was a limp weight, but the muscles were firm, round, and solid.
The first qualm troubled her as she realized that this must be a young man, at least a man in the prime of his physical strength.
Then it occurred to her that often bullets fired into the breast are deflected from the heart by bones; it would be far more certain to lay the muzzle against the temple--press the trigger--the soul would depart.
The soul!
She paused with a thrill of wonder.
