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Updated: May 29, 2025
In order to a full understanding of what had occurred in the Castle of Zenda, it is necessary to supplement my account of what I myself saw and did on that night by relating briefly what I afterwards learnt from Fritz and Madame de Mauban.
It remained for the Duc de Mauban to speak the word which hastened and compelled the end. Rising in his place, he addressed to the Court a few words of apology, inasmuch as he was without real power there, and then he turned to the Chevalier. "Monsieur le chevalier," said he, "I had the honour to know you in somewhat better days for both of us.
The Duke's long residence in Vienna and freedom from share in the civil war in France had been factors in the choice of him when the name was submitted to the Directory by General Grandjon-Larisse, upon whom in turn it had been urged by Detricand. The Duc de Mauban was the most marked figure of the Court, the Emperor not excepted.
It was not hard to see that George's references to the duke were intended to aggravate poor Bertram's sufferings, so that I drew the inference that the duke had distinguished Madame de Mauban by his attentions. She was a widow, rich, handsome, and, according to repute, ambitious.
A moment later, George rejoined me. "You've got a charming travelling companion," he said. "That's poor Bert Bertrand's goddess, Antoinette de Mauban, and, like you, she's going to Dresden also, no doubt, to see the pictures. It's very queer, though, that she doesn't at present desire the honour of your acquaintance." "I didn't ask to be introduced," I observed, a little annoyed.
Antoinette de Mauban was in a loose white robe, her dark hair streamed over her shoulders, her face was ghastly pale, and her eyes gleamed wildly in the light of the torches. In her shaking hand she held a revolver, and, as she tottered forward, she fired it at Rupert Hentzau. The ball missed him, and struck the woodwork over my head.
"Does she take me for a greater fool than you?" I waved to him to be silent. "Ask him what woman would do most to prevent the duke from marrying his cousin, and therefore most to prevent him becoming king? And ask if her name begins with A?" I sprang to my feet. Sapt laid down his pipe. "Antoinette de Mauban, by heaven!" I cried. "How do you know?" asked Sapt.
For, looking down on me, with her handsome face and proud smile, was the lady who had been my fellow traveller Antoinette de Mauban; and I saw her also start, and her lips moved, and she leant forward and gazed at me. And I, collecting myself, met her eyes full and square, while again I felt my revolver. Suppose she had cried aloud, "That's not the King!"
"Well, I offered to bring you to her; but she said, 'Another time. Never mind, old fellow, perhaps there'll be a smash, and you'll have a chance of rescuing her and cutting out the Duke of Strelsau!" No smash, however, happened, either to me or to Madame de Mauban.
"She flies higher than the paper trade, my boy!" "Hang her!" said Bertram. "It would make it more interesting for me," I ventured to observe, "if I knew who you were talking about." "Antoinette Mauban," said George. "De Mauban," growled Bertram. "Oho!" said I, passing by the question of the `de'. "You don't mean to say, Bert ?" "Can't you let me alone?" "Where's she going to?"
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