initial commit of ebook 18336HEADmain

16 files changed, 24874 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6833f05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+* text=auto
+*.txt text
+*.md text
diff --git a/18336-8.txt b/18336-8.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..44b40ba
--- /dev/null
+++ b/18336-8.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,8277 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Lighted Match, by Charles Neville Buck
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Lighted Match
+
+Author: Charles Neville Buck
+
+Illustrator: R. F. Schabelitz
+
+Release Date: May 7, 2006 [EBook #18336]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIGHTED MATCH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Garcia, Martin Pettit and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Kentuckiana Digital Library)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                    THE LIGHTED MATCH
+
+[Illustration: SHE HELD OUT HER HAND TO BENTON AND WATCHED,
+TRANCE-LIKE, HIS LOWERED HEAD AS HE BENT HIS LIPS TO HER FINGERS.]
+
+
+                           The
+                       LIGHTED MATCH
+
+                           by
+
+                   CHARLES NEVILLE BUCK
+
+                       _Author of_
+
+                   The Key to Yesterday
+
+                     _Illustrations_
+                           by
+                     R. F. Schabelitz
+
+
+                   W. J. Watt & Company
+                    Publishers New York
+
+
+                   COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY
+                   W. J. WATT & COMPANY
+
+                    _Published May_
+
+                        PRESS OF
+                    BRAUNWORTH & CO.
+                 BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS
+                     BROOKLYN, N. Y.
+
+
+                       To K. du P.
+
+
+
+
+                         CONTENTS
+
+
+CHAPTER                                                 PAGE
+     I AN OMEN IS CONSTRUED                                9
+
+    II BENTON PLAYS MAGICIAN                              17
+
+   III THE MOON OVERHEARS                                 28
+
+    IV THE DOCTRINE ACCORDING TO JONESY                   40
+
+     V IT IS DECIDED TO MASQUERADE                        49
+
+    VI IN WHICH ROMEO BECOMES DROMIO                      56
+
+   VII IN WHICH DROMIO BECOMES ROMEO                      70
+
+  VIII THE PRINCESS CONSULTS JONESY                       82
+
+    IX THE TOREADOR APPEARS                               92
+
+     X OF CERTAIN TRANSPIRINGS AT A CAFÉ TABLE           102
+
+    XI THE PASSING PRINCESS AND THE MISTAKEN COUNTESS    112
+
+   XII BENTON MUST DECIDE                                123
+
+  XIII CONCERNING FAREWELLS AND WARNINGS                 137
+
+   XIV COUNTESS AND CABINET NOIR JOIN FORCES             144
+
+    XV THE TOREADOR BECOMES AMBASSADOR                   155
+
+   XVI THE AMBASSADOR BECOMES ADMIRAL                    167
+
+  XVII BENTON CALLS ON THE KING                          178
+
+ XVIII IN WHICH THE SPHINX BREAKS SILENCE                190
+
+   XIX THE JACKAL TAKES THE TRAIL                        203
+
+    XX THE DEATH OF ROMANCE IS DEPLORED                  214
+
+   XXI NAPLES ASSUMES NEW BEAUTY                         222
+
+  XXII THE SENTRY-BOX ANSWERS THE KING'S QUERY           229
+
+ XXIII "SCARABS OF A DEAD DYNASTY"                       244
+
+  XXIV IN WHICH KINGS AND COMMONERS DISCUSS LOVE         255
+
+   XXV ABDUL SAID BEY EFFECTS A RESCUE                   265
+
+  XXVI IN A CURIO SHOP IN STAMBOUL                       276
+
+ XXVII BENTON SAYS GOOD-BY                               288
+
+XXVIII JUSSERET MAKES A REPORT                           300
+
+
+
+
+THE LIGHTED MATCH
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+AN OMEN IS CONSTRUED
+
+
+"When a feller an' a gal washes their hands in the same basin at the
+same time, it's a tol'able good sign they won't git married this year."
+
+The oracle spoke through the bearded lips of a farmer perched on the top
+step of his cabin porch. The while he construed omens, a setter pup
+industriously gnawed at his boot-heels.
+
+The girl was bending forward, her fingers spread in a tin basin, as the
+man at her elbow poured water slowly from a gourd-dipper. Heaped, in
+disorder against the cabin wall, lay their red hunting-coats, crops, and
+riding gauntlets.
+
+The oracle tumbled the puppy down the steps and watched its return to
+the attack. Then with something of melancholy retrospect in his pale
+eyes he pursued his reflections. "Now there was Sissy Belmire an' Bud
+Thomas, been keeping company for two years, then washed hands in common
+at the Christian Endeavor picnic an'--" He broke off to shake his head
+in sorrowing memory.
+
+The young man, holding his muddied digits over the water, paused to
+consider the matter.
+
+Suddenly his hands went down into the basin with a splash.
+
+"It is now the end of October," he enlightened; "next year comes in nine
+weeks."
+
+The sun was dipping into a cloud-bank already purpled and gold-rimmed.
+Shortly it would drop behind the bristling summit-line of the hills.
+
+The girl looked down at tell-tale streaks of red clay on the skirt of
+her riding habit, and shook her head. "'Twill never, never do to go back
+like this," she sighed. "They'll know I've come a cropper, and they
+fancy I'm as breakable as Sévres. There will be no end of questions."
+
+The young man dropped to his knees and began industriously plying a
+brush on the damaged skirt. The farmer took his eyes from the puppy for
+an upward glance. His face was solicitous.
+
+"When I saw that horse of yours fall down, it looked to me like he was
+trying to jam you through to China. You sure lit hard!"
+
+"It didn't hurt me," she laughed as she thrust her arms into the sleeves
+of her pink coat. "You see, we thought we knew the run better than the
+whips, and we chose the short cut across your meadow. My horse took off
+too wide at that stone fence. That's why he went down, and why we turned
+your house into a port of repairs. You have been very kind."
+
+The trio started down the grass-grown pathway to the gate where the
+hunters stood hitched. The young man dropped back a few paces to satisfy
+himself that she was not concealing some hurt. He knew her
+half-masculine contempt for acknowledging the fragility of her sex.
+
+Reassurance came as he watched her walking ahead with the unconscious
+grace that belonged to her pliant litheness and expressed itself in her
+superb, almost boyish carriage.
+
+When they had mounted and he had reined his bay down to the side of her
+roan, he sat studying her through half-closed, satisfied eyes though he
+already knew her as the Moslem priest knows the Koran. While they rode
+in silence he conned the inventory. Slim uprightness like the strength
+of a young poplar; eyes that played the whole color-gamut between violet
+and slate-gray, as does the Mediterranean under sun and cloud-bank; lips
+that in repose hinted at melancholy and that broke into magic with a
+smile. Then there was the suggestion of a thought-furrow between the
+brows and a chin delicately chiseled, but resolute and fascinatingly
+uptilted.
+
+It was a face that triumphed over mere prettiness with hints of
+challenging qualities; with individuality, with possibilities of
+purpose, with glints of merry humor and unspoken sadness; with
+deep-sleeping potentiality for passion; with a hundred charming
+whimsicalities.
+
+The eyes were just now fixed on the burning beauty of the sunset and the
+thought-furrow was delicately accentuated. She drew a long, deep breath
+and, letting the reins drop, stretched out both arms toward the splendor
+of the sky-line.
+
+"It is so beautiful--so beautiful!" she cried, with the rapture of a
+child, "and it all spells Freedom. I should like to be the freest thing
+that has life under heaven. What is the freest thing in the world?"
+
+She turned her face on him with the question, and her eyes widened after
+a way they had until they seemed to be searching far out in the fields
+of untalked-of things, and seeing there something that clouded them with
+disquietude.
+
+"I should like to be a man," she went on, "a man and a _hobo_." The
+furrow vanished and the eyes suddenly went dancing. "That is what I
+should like to be--a hobo with a tomato-can and a fire beside the
+railroad-track."
+
+The man said nothing, and she looked up to encounter a steady gaze from
+eyes somewhat puzzled.
+
+His pupils held a note of pained seriousness, and her voice became
+responsively vibrant as she leaned forward with answering gravity in her
+own.
+
+"What is it?" she questioned. "You are troubled."
+
+He looked away beyond her to the pine-topped hills, which seemed to be
+marching with lances and ragged pennants, against the orange field of
+the sky. Then his glance came again to her face.
+
+"They call me the Shadow," he said slowly. "You know whose shadow that
+means. These weeks have made us comrades, and I am jealous because you
+are the sum of two girls, and I know only one of them. I am jealous of
+the other girl at home in Europe. I am jealous that I don't know why
+you, who are seemingly subject only to your own fancy, should crave the
+freedom of the hobo by the railroad track."
+
+She bent forward to adjust a twisted martingale, and for a moment her
+face was averted. In her hidden eyes at that moment, there was deep
+suffering, but when she straightened up she was smiling.
+
+"There is nothing that you shall not know. But not yet--not yet! After
+all, perhaps it's only that in another incarnation I was a vagrant bee
+and I'm homesick for its irresponsibility."
+
+"At all events"--he spoke with an access of boyish enthusiasm--"I 'thank
+whatever gods may be' that I have known you as I have. I'm glad that we
+have not just been idly rich together. Why, Cara, do you remember the
+day we lost our way in the far woods, and I foraged corn, and you
+scrambled stolen eggs? We were forest folk that day; primitive as in the
+years when things were young and the best families kept house in caves."
+
+The girl nodded. "I approve of my shadow," she affirmed.
+
+The smile of enthusiasm died on his face and something like a scowl came
+there.
+
+"The chief trouble," he said, "is that altogether too decent brute,
+Pagratide. I don't like double shadows; they usually stand for confused
+lights."
+
+"Are you jealous of Pagratide?" she laughed. "He pretends to have a
+similar sentiment for you."
+
+"Well," he conceded, laughing in spite of himself, "it does seem that
+when a European girl deigns to play a while with her American cousins,
+Europe might stay on its own side of the pond. This Pagratide is a
+commuter over the Northern Ocean track. He harasses the Atlantic with
+his goings and comings."
+
+"The Atlantic?" she echoed mockingly.
+
+"Possibly I was too modest," he amended. "I mean me and the
+Atlantic--particularly me."
+
+From around the curve of the road sounded a tempered shout. The girl
+laughed.
+
+"You seem to have summoned him out of space," she suggested.
+
+The man growled. "The local from Europe appears to have arrived." He
+gathered in his reins with an almost vicious jerk which brought the
+bay's head up with a snort of remonstrance.
+
+A horseman appeared at the turn of the road. Waving his hat, he put
+spurs to his mount and came forward at a gallop. The newcomer rode with
+military uprightness, softened by the informal ease of the polo-player.
+Even at the distance, which his horse was lessening under the insistent
+pressure of his heels, one could note a boyish charm in the frankness of
+his smile and an eagerness in his eyes.
+
+"I have been searching for you for centuries at least," he shouted, with
+a pleasantly foreign accent, which was rather a nicety than a fault of
+enunciation, "but the quest is amply rewarded!"
+
+He wheeled his horse to the left with a precision that again bespoke the
+cavalryman, and bending over the girl's gauntleted hand, kissed her
+fingers in a manner that added to something of ceremonious flourish much
+more of individual homage. Her smile of greeting was cordial, but a
+degree short of enthusiasm.
+
+"I thought--" she hesitated. "I thought you were on the other side."
+
+The newcomer's laugh showed a glistening line of the whitest teeth under
+a closely-cropped dark mustache.
+
+"I have run away," he declared. "My honored father is, of course,
+furious, but Europe was desolate--and so--" He shrugged his shoulders.
+Then, noting Benton's half-amused, half-annoyed smile, he bowed and
+saluted. "Ah, Benton," he said. "How are you? I see that your eyes
+resent foreign invasion."
+
+Benton raised his brows in simulated astonishment. "Are you still
+foreign?" he inquired. "I thought perhaps you had taken out your first
+citizenship papers."
+
+"But you?" Pagratide turned to the girl with something of entreaty.
+"Will you not give me your welcome?"
+
+In the distance loomed the tile roofs and tall chimneys of "Idle Times."
+Between stretched a level sweep of road.
+
+"You didn't ask permission," she replied, with a touch of disquiet in
+her pupils. "When a woman is asked to extend a welcome, she must be
+given time to prepare it. I ran away from Europe, you know, and after
+all you are a part of Europe."
+
+She shook out her reins, bending forward over the roan's neck, and with
+a clatter of gravel under their twelve hoofs, the horses burst forward
+in a sudden neck and neck dash, toward the patch of red roofs set in a
+mosaic of Autumn woods.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+BENTON PLAYS MAGICIAN
+
+
+In the large living-room, Van Bristow, the master of "Idle Times," had
+expressed his tastes. Here in the almost severe wainscoting, in
+inglenook and chimney-corner, one found the index to his fancy. It was
+his fancy which had dictated that the broad windows, with sills at the
+level of the floor, should not command the formal terraces and lawns of
+a landscape-gardener's devising, but should give exit instead upon a
+strip of rugged nature, where the murmur of the creek came up through
+unaltered foliage and underbrush.
+
+Shortening their entrance through one of the windows, the trio found
+their host, already in evening dress. Bristow was idling on the hearth
+with no more immediate concern than a cigarette and the enjoyment of the
+crackling logs, unspoiled by other light.
+
+As the clatter of boots and spurs announced their coming, Van glanced up
+and schooled his face into a very fair counterfeit of severity.
+
+"Lucky we don't make our people ring in on the clock," he observed. "You
+three would be docked."
+
+The girl stood in the red glow of the hearth, slowly drawing off her
+riding-gauntlets.
+
+Pagratide went to the table in search of cigarettes and matches, and as
+the light there was dim, the host joined him and laid a hand readily
+enough upon the brass case for which the other was fumbling. As he held
+a light to his guest's cigarette, he bent over and spoke in a guarded
+undertone. Benton noticed in the brief flare that the visitor's face
+mirrored sudden surprise.
+
+"Colonel Von Ritz is here," confided Bristow. "Arrived by the next train
+after you and was for posting off in search of you instanter. He acted
+very much like a summons-server or a bailiff. He's ensconced in rooms
+adjoining yours. You might look in on him as you go up to dress. He
+seems to be in the very devil of a hurry."
+
+Pagratide's brows went up in evident annoyance and for an instant there
+was a defiant stiffening of his jaw, but when he spoke his voice held
+neither excitement nor surprise.
+
+"Ah, indeed!" The exclamation was casual. He watched the glowing end of
+his cigarette for a moment, then magnanimously added: "However, since he
+has followed across three thousand miles, I had better see him."
+
+The host turned to the girl. "I'm borrowing this young man until
+dinner," he vouchsafed as he led Pagratide to the door.
+
+Cara stood watching the two as they passed into the hall; then her face
+changed suddenly as though she had been leaving a stage and had laid
+aside a part--abandoning a semblance which it was no longer necessary to
+maintain. A pained droop came to the corners of her lips and she dropped
+wearily into the broad oak seat of the inglenook. There she sat, with
+her chin propped on her hands, elbows on her knees, and gazed silently
+at the logs.
+
+"Why did they have to come just now and spoil my holiday?"
+
+She spoke as though unconscious that her musings were finding voice, and
+the half-whispered words were wistful. Benton took a step nearer and
+bent impulsively forward.
+
+"What is it?" he anxiously questioned.
+
+She only looked intently into the coals with trouble-clouded eyes and
+shook her head. He could not tell whether in response to his words or to
+some thought of her own.
+
+Dropping on one knee at her feet, he gently covered her hands with his
+own. He could feel the delicate play of her breath on his forehead.
+
+"Cara," he whispered, "what is it, dear?"
+
+She started, and with a spasmodic movement caught one of his hands, for
+an instant pressing it in her own, then, rising, she shook her head with
+a gesture of the fingers at the temples as though she would brush away
+cobwebs that enmeshed and fogged the brain.
+
+"Nothing, boy." Her smile was somewhat wistful. "Nothing but silly
+imaginings." She laughed and when she spoke again her voice was as light
+as if her world held only triviality and laughter. "Yet there be
+important things to decide. What shall I wear for dinner?"
+
+"It's such a hard question," he demurred. "I like you best in so many
+things, but the queen can do no wrong--make no mistake."
+
+A sudden shadow of pain crossed her eyes, and she caught her lower lip
+sharply between her teeth.
+
+"Was it something I said?" he demanded.
+
+"Nothing," she answered slowly. "Only don't say that again, ever--'the
+queen can do no wrong.' Now, I must go."
+
+She rose and turned toward the door, then suddenly carrying one hand to
+her eyes, she took a single unsteady step and swayed as though she would
+fall. Instantly his arms were around her and for a moment he could feel,
+in its wild fluttering, her heart against the red breast of his
+hunting-coat.
+
+Her laugh was a little shaken as she drew away from him and stood,
+still a trifle unsteady. Her voice was surcharged with self-contempt.
+
+"Sir Gray Eyes, I--I ask you to believe that I don't habitually fall
+about into people's arms. I'm developing nerves--there is a white
+feather in my moral and mental plumage."
+
+He looked at her with grave eyes, from which he sternly banished all
+questioning--and remained silent.
+
+They passed out into the hall and, at the foot of the stairs where their
+ways diverged, she paused to look back at him with an unclouded smile.
+
+"You have not told me what to wear."
+
+His eyes were as steady as her own. "You will please wear the black gown
+with the shimmery things all over it. I can't describe it, but I can
+remember it. And a single red rose," he judiciously added.
+
+"'Tis October and the florists are fifty miles away," she demurred. "It
+would take a magician's wand to produce the red rose."
+
+"I noticed a funny looking thing among my golf sticks," he remembered.
+"It is a little bit like a niblick, but it may be a magic wand in
+disguise. You wear the black gown and trust to providence for the red
+rose."
+
+She threw back a laugh and was gone.
+
+When she disappeared at the turning, he wheeled and went to the
+"bachelors' barracks," as the master of "Idle Times" dubbed the wing
+where the unmarried men were quartered.
+
+Two suites next adjoining the room allotted to Benton had been
+unoccupied when he had gone out that forenoon. Between his quarters and
+these erstwhile vacant ones lay a room forming a sort of buffer space.
+Here a sideboard, a card-table, and desk made the "neutral zone," as Van
+called it, available for his guests as a territory either separating or
+connecting their individual chambers.
+
+Now a blaze of transoms and a sound of voices proclaimed that the
+apartments were tenanted. Benton entered his own unlighted room, and
+then with his hand at the electric switch halted in embarrassment.
+
+The folding-doors between his apartment and the "neutral territory"
+stood wide, and the attitudes and voices of the two men he saw there
+indicated their interview to be one in which outsiders should have no
+concern. To switch on the light would be to declare himself a witness to
+a part at least; to remain would be to become unwilling auditor to more;
+to open the door he had just closed behind him would also be to attract
+attention to himself. He paused in momentary uncertainty.
+
+One of the men was Pagratide, transformed by anger; seemingly taller,
+darker, lither. The second man stood calm, immobile, with his arms
+crossed on his breast, bending an impassive glance on the other from
+singularly steady eyes. His six feet of well-proportioned stature just
+missed an exaggeration of soldierly bearing.
+
+The unwavering mouth-line; level, dark brows almost meeting over
+unflinching gray eyes; the uncurved nose and commanding forehead were in
+concert with the clean, almost lean sweep of the jaw, in spelling force
+for field or council.
+
+"Am I a brigand, Von Ritz, to be harassed by police? Answer me--am I?"
+Pagratide spoke in a tempest of anger. He halted before the other man,
+his hands twitching in fury.
+
+Von Ritz remained as motionless, apparently as mildly interested, as
+though he were listening to the screaming of a parrot.
+
+"My orders were explicit." His words fell icily. "They were the orders
+of His Majesty's government. I shall obey them. I beg pardon, I shall
+attempt to obey them; and thus far my attempts to serve His Majesty have
+not encountered failure. I should prefer not having to call on the
+ambassador--or the American secret service."
+
+"By God! If I had a sword--" breathed Pagratide. His fury had gone
+through heat to cold, and his attitude was that of a man denied the
+opportunity of resenting a mortal affront.
+
+Von Ritz coolly inclined his head, indicating the heaped-up luggage on
+the table between them. Otherwise he did not move.
+
+"The stick there, on the table, is a sword-cane," he commented.
+
+Pagratide stood unmoving.
+
+The other waited a moment, almost deferentially, then went on with calm
+deliberation.
+
+"You left your regiment without leave, captain. One might almost call
+that--" Then Benton remembered an auxiliary door at the back of his
+apartment and made his escape unnoticed.
+
+A half hour later, changed from boots and breeches into evening dress,
+Benton was opening a long package which bore the name of his florist in
+town. In another moment he had spread a profusion of roses on his table
+and stood bending over them with the critically selective gaze of a
+Paris.
+
+When he had made the choice of one, he carefully pared every thorn from
+its long stem. Then he went out through the rear of the hall to a
+stairway at the back.
+
+He knew of a window-seat above, where he could wait in concealment
+behind a screening mass of potted palms to rise out of his ambush and
+intercept Cara as she came into the hall. It pleased him to regard
+himself as a genie, materializing out of emptiness to present the rose
+which she had chosen to declare unobtainable.
+
+In the shadowed recess he ensconced himself with his knees drawn up and
+the flower twirling idly between his fingers.
+
+For a while he measured his vigil only by the ticking of a clock
+somewhere out of sight, then he heard a quiet footfall on the hardwood,
+and through the fronds of the plants he saw a man's figure pace slowly
+by. The broad shoulders and the lancelike carriage proclaimed Von Ritz
+even before the downcast face was raised. At Cara's door the European
+wheeled uncertainly and paused. Because something vague and subconscious
+in Benton's mind had catalogued this man as a harbinger of trouble and
+branded him with distrust, his own eyes contracted and the rose ceased
+twirling.
+
+Just then the door of Cara's room opened and closed, and the slender
+figure of the girl stood out in the silhouette of her black evening gown
+against the white woodwork. Her eyes widened and she paled perceptibly.
+For an instant, she caught her lower lip between her teeth; but she did
+not, by start or other overt manifestation, give sign of surprise. She
+only inclined her head in greeting, and waited for Von Ritz to speak.
+
+He bowed low, and his manner was ceremonious.
+
+"You do not like me--" He smiled, pausing as though in doubt as to what
+form of address he should employ; then he asked: "What shall I call
+you?"
+
+"Miss Carstow," she prompted, in a voice that seemed to raise a
+quarantine flag above him.
+
+"Certainly, Miss Carstow," he continued gravely. "Time has elapsed since
+the days of your pinafores and braids, when I was honored with the
+sobriquet of 'Soldier-man' and you were the 'Little Empress.'"
+
+His voice was one that would have lent itself to eloquence. Now its even
+modulation carried a sort of cold charm.
+
+"You do not like me," he repeated.
+
+"I don't know," she answered simply. "I hadn't thought about it. I was
+surprised."
+
+"Naturally." He contemplated her with grave eyes that seemed to admit no
+play of expression. "I came only to ask an interview later. At any time
+that may be most agreeable--Pardon me," he interrupted himself with a
+certain cynical humor in his voice, "at any time, I should say, that may
+be least disagreeable to you."
+
+"I will tell you later," she said. He bowed himself backward, then
+turning on his heel went silently down the stairs.
+
+She stood hesitant for a moment, with both hands pressed against the
+door at her back, and her brow drawn in a deep furrow, then she threw
+her chin upward and shook her head with that resolute gesture which
+meant, with her, shaking off at least the outward seeming of annoyance.
+
+Benton came out from his hiding-place behind the palms, and she looked
+up at him with a momentary clearing of her brow.
+
+"Where were you?" she asked.
+
+"I unintentionally played eavesdropper," he said humbly, handing her the
+rose. "I was lying in wait to decorate you."
+
+"It is wonderful," she exclaimed. "I think it is the wonderfulest rose
+that any little girl ever had for a magic gift." She held it for a
+moment, softly against her cheek.
+
+He bent forward. "Cara!" he whispered. No answer. "Cara!" he repeated.
+
+"Yeth, thir," she lisped in a whimsical little-girl voice, looking up
+with a smile stolen from a fairy-tale.
+
+"I am just lending you that rose. I had meant to give it to you, but
+_now_ I want it back--when you are through with it. May I have it?"
+
+She held it out teasingly. "Do you want it now--Indian-giver?" she
+demanded.
+
+"You know I don't," in an injured tone.
+
+"I'm glad, because you couldn't have it--yet." And she was gone, leaving
+him to make his appearance from the direction of his own apartments.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE MOON OVERHEARS
+
+
+At dinner the talk ran for a course or two with the hounds, then strayed
+aimlessly into a dozen discursive channels.
+
+"My boy," whispered Mrs. Van from her end of the table, to Pagratide on
+her right, "I relinquish you to the girl on your other side. You have
+made a very brave effort to talk to me. Ah, I know--" raising a slender
+hand to still his polite remonstrance--"there is no Cara but Cara, and
+Pagratide is--" She let her mischief-laden smile finish the comment.
+
+"Her satellite," he confessed.
+
+"One of them," she wickedly corrected him.
+
+The foreigner turned his head and nodded gravely. Cara was listening to
+something that Benton was saying in undertone, her lips parted in an
+amused smile.
+
+Through a momentary lull as the coffee came, rose the voice of
+O'Barreton, the bore, near the head of the table; O'Barreton, who must
+be tolerated because as a master of hounds he had no superior and a bare
+quorum of equals.
+
+"For my part," he was saying, "I confess an augmented admiration for
+Van because he's distantly related to near-royalty. If that be snobbish,
+make the most of it."
+
+Van laughed. "Related to royalty?" he scornfully repeated. "Am I not
+myself a sovereign with the right on election day to stand in line
+behind my chauffeur and stable-boys at the voting-place?"
+
+"How did it happen, Van? How did you acquire your gorgeous relatives?"
+persisted O'Barreton.
+
+"Some day I'll tell you all about it. Do you think the Elkridge hounds
+will run--"
+
+"I addressed a question to you. That question is still before the
+house," interrupted O'Barreton, with dignity. "How did you acquire 'em?"
+
+"Inherited 'em!" snapped Van, but O'Barreton was not to be turned aside.
+
+"Quite true and quite epigrammatic," he persisted sweetly. "But how?"
+
+Van turned to the rest of the table. "You don't have to listen to this,"
+he said in despair. "I have to go through it with O'Barreton every time
+he comes here. It's a sort of ritual." Then, turning to the tormenting
+guest, he explained carefully: "Once upon a time the Earl of Dundredge
+had three daughters. The eldest--my mother--married an American husband.
+The second married an Englishman--she is the mother of my fair cousin,
+Cara, there; the third and youngest married the third son of the Grand
+Duke of Maritzburg, at that time a quiet gentleman who loved the Champs
+Elysées and landscape-painting in Southern Spain."
+
+Van traced a family-tree on the tablecloth with a salt-spoon, for his
+guest's better information.
+
+"That doesn't enlighten me on the semi-royal status of your Aunt
+Maritzburg," objected O'Barreton. "How did she grow so great?"
+
+"Vicissitudes, Barry," explained the host patiently. "Just vicissitudes.
+The father and the two elder brothers died off and left the third son to
+assume the government of a grand duchy, which he did not want, and
+compelled him to relinquish the mahl-stick and brushes which he loved.
+My aunt was his grand-duchess-consort, and until her death occupied with
+him the ducal throne. If you'd look these things up for yourself, my
+son, in some European 'Who's Who,' you'd remember 'em--and save me much
+trouble."
+
+After dinner Cara disappeared, and Benton wandered from room to room
+with a seemingly purposeless eye, keenly alert for a black gown, a red
+rose, and a girl whom he could not find. Von Ritz also was missing, and
+this fact added to his anxiety.
+
+In the conservatory he came upon Pagratide, likewise stalking about with
+restlessly roving eyes, like a hunter searching a jungle. The foreigner
+paused with one foot tapping the marble rim of a small fountain, and
+Benton passed with a nod.
+
+The evening went by without her reappearance, and finally the house
+darkened, and settled into quiet. Benton sought the open, driven by a
+restlessness that obsessed and troubled him. A fitful breeze brought
+down the dead leaves in swirling eddies. The moon was under a cloud-bank
+when, a quarter of a mile from the house, he left the smooth lawns and
+plunged among the vine-clad trees and thickets that rimmed the creek. In
+the darkness, he could hear the low, wild plaint with which the stream
+tossed itself over the rocks that cumbered its bed.
+
+Beyond the thicket he came again to a more open space among the trees,
+free from underbrush, but strewn at intervals with great bowlders. He
+picked his way cautiously, mindful of crevices where a broken leg or
+worse might be the penalty of a misstep in the darkness. The humor
+seized him to sit on a great rock which dropped down twenty feet to the
+creek bed, and listen to the quieting music of its night song. His eyes,
+grown somewhat accustomed to the darkness, had been blinded again by the
+match he had just struck to light a cigarette, and he walked, as it
+behooved him, carefully and gropingly.
+
+"Please, sir, don't step on me."
+
+Benton halted with a start and stared confusedly about him. A ripple of
+low laughter came to his ears as he widened his pupils in the effort to
+accommodate his eyes to the murk. Then the moon broke out once more and
+the place became one of silver light and dark, soft shadow-blots. She
+was sitting with her back against a tree, her knees gathered between her
+arms, fingers interlocked. She had thrown a long, rough cape about her,
+but it had fallen open, leaving visible the black gown and a spot he
+knew to be a red rose on her breast.
+
+He stood looking down, and she smiled up.
+
+"Cara!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here--alone?"
+
+"Seeking freedom," she responded calmly. "It's not so good as the hobo's
+fire beside the track, but it's better than four walls. The moon has
+been wonderful, Sir Gray Eyes--as bright and dark as life; radiant a
+little while and hidden behind clouds a great deal. And the wind has
+been whispering like a troubadour to the tree-tops."
+
+"And you," he interrupted severely, dropping on the earth at her feet
+and propping himself on one elbow, "have been sitting in the chilling
+air, with your throat uncovered and probably catching cold."
+
+"What a matter-of-fact person it is!" she laughed. "I didn't appoint you
+my physician, you know."
+
+[Illustration: "PLEASE, SIR, DON'T STEP ON ME."]
+
+"But your coming alone out here in these woods, and so late!" he
+expostulated.
+
+"Why not?" She looked frankly up at him. "I am not afraid."
+
+"I am afraid for you." He spoke seriously.
+
+"Why?" she inquired again.
+
+He knelt beside her, looking directly into her eyes. "For many reasons,"
+he said. "But above all else, because I love you."
+
+The fingers of her clasped hands tightened until they strained, and she
+looked straight away across the clearing. The moon was bright now, and
+the thought-furrow showed deep between her brows, but she said nothing.
+
+The tree-tops whispered, and the girl shivered slightly. He bent forward
+and folded the cape across her throat. Still she did not move.
+
+"Cara, I love you," he repeated insistently.
+
+"Don't--I can't listen." Her voice was one of forced calm. Then, turning
+suddenly, she laid her hand on his arm. It trembled violently under her
+touch. "And, oh, boy," she broke out, with a voice of pent-up vibrance,
+"don't you see how I want to listen to you?"
+
+He bent forward until he was very close, and his tone was almost fierce
+in its tense eagerness.
+
+"You want to! Why?"
+
+Again a tremor seized her, then with the sudden abandon of one who
+surrenders to an impulse stronger than one's self, she leaned forward
+and placed a hand on each of his shoulders, clutching him almost wildly.
+Her eyes glowed close to his own.
+
+"Because I love you, too," she said. Then, with a break in her voice:
+"Oh, you knew that! Why did you make me say it?"
+
+While the stars seemed to break out in a chorus above him, he found his
+arms about her, and was vaguely conscious that his lips were smothering
+some words her lips were trying to shape. Words seemed to him just then
+so superfluous.
+
+There was a tumult of pounding pulses in his veins, responsive to the
+fluttering heart which beat back of a crushed rose in the lithe being he
+held in his arms. Then he obeyed the pressure of the hands on his
+shoulders and released her.
+
+"Why should you find it so hard to say?" He asked.
+
+She sat for a moment with her hands covering her face.
+
+"You must never do that again," she said faintly. "You have not the
+right. I have not the right."
+
+"I have the only right," he announced triumphantly.
+
+She shook her head. "Not when the girl is engaged."
+
+She looked at him with a sad droop at the corners of her lips. He sat
+silent--waiting.
+
+"Listen!" She spoke wearily, rising and leaning against the rough bole
+of the tree at her back, with both hands tightly clasped behind her.
+"Listen and don't interrupt, because it's hard, and I want to finish
+it." Her words came slowly with labored calm, almost as if she were
+reciting memorized lines. "It sounds simple from your point of view. It
+is simple from mine, but desperately hard. Love is not the only thing.
+To some of us there is something else that must come first. I am
+engaged, and I shall marry the man to whom I am engaged. Not because I
+want to, but because--" her chin went up with the determination that was
+in her--"because I must."
+
+"What kind of man will ask you to keep a promise that your heart
+repudiates?" he hotly demanded.
+
+"He knew that I loved you before you knew it," she answered; "that I
+would always love you--that I would never love him. Besides, he must do
+it. After all, it's fortunate that he wants to." She tried to laugh.
+
+"Is his name Pagratide?" The man mechanically drew his handkerchief from
+his cuff, and wiped beads of cold moisture from his forehead.
+
+The girl shook her head. "No, his name is not Pagratide."
+
+He took a step nearer, but she raised a hand to wave him back, and he
+bowed his submission.
+
+"You love me--you are certain of that?" he whispered.
+
+"Do you doubt it?"
+
+"No," he said, "I don't doubt it."
+
+Again he pressed the handkerchief to his forehead, and in the silvering
+radiance of the moonlight she could see the outstanding tracery of the
+arteries on his temples.
+
+Instantly she flung both arms about his neck.
+
+"Don't!" she cried passionately. "Don't look like that! You will kill
+me!"
+
+He smiled. "Under such treatment, I shall look precisely as you say," he
+acquiesced.
+
+"Listen, dear." She was talking rapidly, wildly, her arms still about
+his neck. "There are two miserable little kingdoms over there....
+Horrible little two-by-four principalities, that fit into the map of
+Europe like little, ragged chips in a mosaic.... Cousin Van lied in
+there to protect my disguise.... It is my father who is the Grand Duke
+of Maritzburg, and it is ordained that I shall marry Prince Karyl of
+Galavia.... It was Von Ritz's mission to remind me of my slavery." Her
+voice rose in sudden protest. "Every peasant girl in the vineyards may
+select her own lover, but I must be awarded by the crowned heads of the
+real kingdoms--like a prize in a lottery. Do you wonder that I have run
+away and masqueraded for a taste of freedom before the end? Do you
+wonder"--the head came down on his shoulder--"that I want to be a hobo
+with a tomato-can and a fire of deadwood?"
+
+He kissed her hair. "Are you crying, Cara, dear?" he asked softly.
+
+Her head came up. "I never cry," she answered. "Do you believe there are
+more lives--other incarnations--that I may yet live to be a
+butterfly--or a vagrant bee?"
+
+"I believe"--his voice was firm--"I believe you are not Queen of Galavia
+yet by a good bit. There's a fairly husky American anarchist in this
+game, dearest, who has designs on that dynasty."
+
+"Don't!" she begged. "Don't you see that I wouldn't let them force me?
+It is that I see the inexorable call of it, as my father saw it when he
+left his studio in Paris for a throne that meant only unhappiness--as
+you would see it, if your country called for volunteers."
+
+He bowed his head. For a moment neither spoke. Then she took the rose
+from her breast and kissed it.
+
+"Sir Knight of the Red Rose," she said, with a pitifully forced smile.
+"I don't want to give it back--ever. I want to keep it always."
+
+He took her in his arms, and she offered no protest.
+
+"To-morrow is to-morrow," he said. "To-day you are mine. I love you."
+
+She took his head between her palms and drew his face down. "I shall
+never do this with anyone else," she said slowly, kissing his forehead.
+"I love you."
+
+Slowly they turned together toward the house.
+
+"I like your cavalryman, Pagratide," he said thoughtfully. His mind had
+suddenly recurred to the scene in the foreigner's room, and he thought
+he began to understand. "He is a man. He dares to challenge royal wrath
+by venturing his love in the lists against his prince."
+
+"I wish he had not come," she said slowly.
+
+"But you don't love him?" he demanded with sudden unreasoning jealousy.
+
+"I love--just, only, solely, you, Mr. Monopoly," she replied.
+
+At the door they paused. There was complete silence save for a clock
+striking two and the distant crowing of a cock. The pause belonged to
+them--their moment of reprieve.
+
+At last she said quietly: "But you are stupid not to guess it."
+
+"Guess what?" he inquired.
+
+"There is no Pagratide. Pagratide's real name is Karyl of Galavia."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+THE DOCTRINE ACCORDING TO JONESY
+
+
+If the living-room at "Idle Times" bore the impress of Van Bristow's
+individuality and taste, his den was the tangible setting of his
+personality.
+
+His marriage had, only eighteen months before, cut his life sharply with
+the boundary of an epoch. The den bore something of the atmosphere of a
+museum dedicated to past eras. It was crowded with useless junk that
+stood for divers memories and much wandering. Many of the pictures that
+cumbered the walls were redolent of the atmosphere of overseas.
+
+There were photographs wherein the master of "Idle Times" and Mr. George
+Benton appeared together, ranging from ancient football days to
+snapshots of a mountain-climbing expedition in the Andes, dated only two
+years back.
+
+It was into this sanctum that Benton clanked, booted and spurred, early
+the following morning.
+
+Ostensibly Van was looking over business letters, but there was a trace
+of wander-lust in the eyes that strayed off with dreamy truancy beyond
+the tree-tops.
+
+Benton planted himself before his host with folded arms, and stood
+looking down almost accusingly into the face of his old friend.
+
+"Whenever I have anything particularly unpleasant to do," began the
+guest, "I do it quick. That's why I'm here now."
+
+Van Bristow looked up, mildly astonished.
+
+During a decade of intimacy these two men had joyously, affectionately
+and consistently insulted each other on all possible occasions. Now,
+however, there was a certain purposeful ring in Benton's voice which
+told the other this was quite different from the time-honored
+affectation of slander. Consequently his demand for further
+enlightenment came with terse directness.
+
+Benton nodded and a defiant glint came to his pupils.
+
+"I come to serve notice," he announced briefly, "of something I mean to
+do."
+
+Van took the pipe from his mouth and regarded it with concentrated
+attention, while his friend went on in carefully gauged voice.
+
+"I am here," he explained, "as a guest in your house. I mean to make war
+on certain plans and arrangements which presumably have your sympathy
+and support--and I mean to make the hardest war I know." He paused, but
+as Van gave no indication of cutting in, he went on in aggressive
+announcement. "What I mean to do is my business--mine and a girl's--but
+since she is your kinswoman and this is your place, it wouldn't be quite
+fair to begin without warning."
+
+For a time Bristow's attitude remained that of deep and silent
+reflection. Finally he knocked the ashes from his pipe and came over
+until he stood directly confronting Benton.
+
+"So she has told you?" was his brief question at last.
+
+The other nodded.
+
+The master of "Idle Times" paced thoughtfully up and down the room. When
+at length he stopped it was to clap his hand on his class-mate's
+shoulder.
+
+"George," he said, with a voice hardened to edit down the note of
+sympathy that threatened it, "you seem to start out with the assumption
+that I am against you. Get that out of your head. Cara has hungered for
+freedom. We've felt that she had the right to, at least, her little
+intervals of recess. It happened that she could have them here. Here she
+could be Miss Carstow--and cease to be Cara of Maritzburg. I am sorry if
+you--and she--must pay for these vacations with your happiness. I see
+now that people who are sentenced to imprisonment, should not play with
+liberty."
+
+"She is not going to play with liberty," declared Benton categorically.
+"She is going to have it. She is going to have for the rest of her life
+just what she wants." He lifted his hand in protest against anticipated
+interruption. "I know that you have got to line up with your royal
+relatives. I know the utter impossibility of what I want--but I'm going
+to win. If you regard me as a burglar, you may turn me out, but you
+can't stop me."
+
+"I sha'n't turn you out," mused Van quietly. "I wish you could win. But
+you are not merely fighting people. You are fighting an idea. It is only
+for an idea that men and women martyr themselves. With Cara this idea
+has become morbid--an obsession. She has inherited it together with an
+abnormally developed courage, and her conception of courage is to face
+what she most hates and fears."
+
+"But if I can show her that it is a mistaken courage--that instead of
+loyalty it is desertion?" The man spoke with quick eagerness.
+
+Van shook his head, and his eyes clouded with the gravity of sympathy
+for a futile resolve.
+
+"That you can't do. I am an American myself. I'm not policing thrones.
+To me it seems a monstrous thing that a girl superbly American in
+everything but the accident of birth should have no chance--no
+opportunity to escape life-imprisonment. It doesn't altogether
+compensate that the prison happens to be a palace."
+
+For a time neither spoke, then Bristow went on.
+
+"At the age of five, Cara stood before a mirror and critically surveyed
+herself. At the end of the scrutiny she turned away with a satisfied
+sigh. 'I finks I'm lovely,' she announced. At five one is frank. Her
+verdict has since then been duly and reliably confirmed by everyone who
+has known her--yet she might as well have been born into unbeautiful,
+hopeless slavery."
+
+Benton went to the window and stood moodily looking out. Finally he
+wheeled to demand: "How did the crown of Maritzburg come to your uncle?"
+
+"When he married my aunt," said Bristow, "he fancied himself
+safe-guarded from the ducal throne by two older brothers. That's why he
+was able to choose his own wife. He was dedicated with passionate
+loyalty to his brushes and paint tubes. He saw before him achievement of
+that sort. Assassination claimed his father and brothers, and, facing
+the same peril, he took up the distasteful duties of government. My
+aunt's life was intolerably shadowed by the terror of violence for him.
+She died at Cara's birth and the child inherited all the protest and
+acceptance so paradoxically bequeathed by her heart-broken mother."
+
+"Realizing that Cara could not hope to escape a royal marriage, her
+father looked toward Galavia. There at least the strain was clean ...
+untouched by degeneracy and untainted with libertinism. Karyl is as
+decent a chap as yourself. He loves her, and though he knows she accepts
+him only from compulsion, he believes he can eventually win her love as
+well as her mere acquiescence. It's all as final as the laws of the
+Medes and Persians."
+
+Again there was a long silence. Bristow began to wonder if it was, with
+his friend, the silence of despair and surrender. At last Benton lifted
+his face and his jaw was set unyieldingly.
+
+"Personally," he commented quietly, "I have decided otherwise."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Despite the raw edge on the air, the hardier guests at "Idle Times"
+still clung to those outdoor sports which properly belonged to the
+summer. That afternoon a canoeing expedition was made up river to
+explore a cave which tradition had endowed with some legendary tale of
+pioneer days and Indian warfare.
+
+Pagratide, having organized the expedition with that object in view, had
+made use of his prior knowledge to enlist Cara for the crew of his
+canoe, but Benton, covering a point that Pagratide had overlooked,
+pointed out that an engagement to go up the river in a canoe is entirely
+distinct from an engagement to come down the river in a canoe. He cited
+so many excellent authorities in support of his contention that the
+matter was decided in his favor for the return trip, and Mrs.
+Porter-Woodleigh, all unconscious that her escort was a Crown Prince,
+found in him an introspective and altogether uninteresting young man.
+
+Benton and the girl in one canoe, were soon a quarter of a mile in
+advance of the others, and lifting their paddles from the water they
+floated with the slow current. The singing voices of the party behind
+them came softly adrift along the water. All of the singers were young
+and the songs had to do with sentiment.
+
+The girl buttoned her sweater closer about her throat. The man stuffed
+tobacco into the bowl of his pipe and bent low to kindle it into a
+cheerful spot of light.
+
+A belated lemon afterglow lingered at the edge of the sky ahead. Against
+it the gaunt branches of a tall tree traced themselves starkly. Below
+was the silent blackness of the woods.
+
+Suddenly Benton raised his head.
+
+"I have a present for you," he announced.
+
+"A present?" echoed the girl. "Be careful, Sir Gray Eyes. You played the
+magician once and gave me a rose. It was such a wonderful rose"--she
+spoke almost tenderly,--"that it has spoiled me. No commonplace gift
+will be tolerated after that."
+
+"This is a different sort of present," he assured her. "This is a god."
+
+"A what!" Cara was at the stern with the guiding paddle. The man leaned
+back, steadying the canoe with a hand on each gunwale, and smiled into
+her face.
+
+"Yes," he said, "he is a god made out of clay with a countenance that is
+most unlovely and a complexion like an earthenware jar. I acquired him
+in the Andes for a few _centavos_. Since then we have been companions.
+In his day he had his place in a splendid temple of the Sun Worshipers.
+When I rescued him he was squatting cross-legged on a counter among
+silver and copper trinkets belonging to a civilization younger than his
+own. When you've been a god and come to be a souvenir of ruins and dead
+things--" the man paused for a moment, then with the ghost of a laugh
+went on, "--it makes you see things differently. In the twisted squint
+of his small clay face one reads slight regard for mere systems and
+codes."
+
+He paused so long that she prompted him in a voice that threatened to
+become unsteady. "Tell me more about him. What is his godship's name?"
+
+"He looked so protestingly wise," Benton went on, "that I named him
+Jonesy. I liked that name because it fitted him so badly. Jonesy is not
+conventional in his ideas, but his morals are sound. He has seen
+religions and civilizations and dynasties flourish and decay, and it has
+all given him a certain perspective on life. He has occasionally given
+me good council."
+
+He paused again, but, noting that the singing voices were drawing
+nearer, he continued more rapidly.
+
+"In Alaska I used to lie flat on my cot before a great open fire and his
+god-ship would perch cross-legged on my chest. When I breathed, he
+seemed to shake his fat sides and laugh. When a pagan god from Peru
+laughs at you in a Yukon cabin, the situation calls for attention. I
+gave attention.
+
+"Jonesy said that the major human motives sweep in deep channels,
+full-tide ahead. He said you might in some degree regulate their floods
+by rearing abutments, but that when you try to build a dam to stop the
+Amazon you are dealing with folly. He argued that when one sets out to
+dam up the tides set flowing back in the tributaries of the heart it is
+written that one must fail. That is the gospel according to Jonesy."
+
+He turned his face to the front and shot the canoe forward. There was
+silence except for the quiet dipping of their paddles, the dripping of
+the water from the lifted blades, and the song drifting down river.
+Finally Benton added:
+
+"I don't know what he will say to you, but perhaps he will give you good
+advice--on those matters which the centuries can't change."
+
+Cara's voice came soft, with a hint of repressed tears. "He has already
+given me good advice, dear--" she said, "good advice that I can't
+follow."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+IT IS DECIDED TO MASQUERADE
+
+
+The first day of quail-shooting found Van Bristow's guests afield.
+
+Separated from the others, Benton and Cara came upon a small grove, like
+an oasis in the stretching acres of stubble. Under a scarlet maple that
+reared itself skyward all aflame, and shielded by a festooning profusion
+of wild-grape, a fallen beech-trunk offered an inviting seat. The girl
+halted and grounded arms.
+
+The man seated himself at her feet and looked up. He framed a question,
+then hesitated, fearing the answer. Finally he spoke, controlling his
+voice with an effort.
+
+"Cara," he questioned, "how long have I?"
+
+Her eyes widened as if with terror. "A very--very little time, dear,"
+she said. "It frightens me to think how little. Then--then--nothing but
+memory. Do you realize what it all means?" She leaned forward and laid a
+hand on each of his shoulders. "Just one week more, and after that I
+shall look out to sea when the sun sinks, red and sullen, into leaden
+waters and think of--of Arcady--and you."
+
+"Don't, Cara!" He seized her hands and went on talking fast and
+vehemently. "Listen! I love you--that is not a unique thing. You love
+me--that is the miracle. And because of a distorted idea of duty, our
+lives must go to wreck. Don't you see the situation is
+ludicrous--intolerable? You are trying to live a medieval life in a day
+of wireless telegraph and air ships."
+
+She nodded. "But what are we going to do about it?" she questioned
+simply.
+
+"Cara, dear--if I could find a way!" he pleaded eagerly. "Suppose I
+could play the magician!"
+
+He rose and stood back of the log.
+
+She leaned back so that she might look into his eyes. "I wish you
+could," she mused with infinite weariness.
+
+He stooped suddenly and kissed the drooping lips with a resentful sense
+of the monstrous injustice of a scheme of things wherein such lips could
+droop.
+
+"No, no, no!" she cried. "You must not! I've got to be Queen of
+Galavia--I've got to be his wife." Then, in a quick, half-frightened
+tone: "Yet when you are with me I can't help it. It's wicked to love
+you--and I do."
+
+He smiled through the misery of his own frown. "Am I so bad as that?" he
+questioned.
+
+"You are so bad"--she suddenly caught his hands in hers and slowly
+shook her head--"that I don't trust myself on the same side of the road
+with you. You must go across and sit on that opposite side." She lightly
+kissed his forehead. "That's a kiss before exile--now go."
+
+He measured the distance with disapproving eyes. "That must be fifteen
+feet away," he protested, "and my arms are not a yard long." He
+stretched them out, viewing them ruefully.
+
+"Go!" she repeated with sternness.
+
+He obeyed slowly, his face growing sullen.
+
+"If I am to stay here until I recant what I said about your odious
+kingdom and your miserable throne, I'll--I'll--" He cast about for a
+sufficiently rebellious sentiment, then resolutely asserted: "I'll stay
+here until I rot in my chains." He raised his hands and shook imaginary
+manacles. "Clink! Clink! Clink!" he added dramatically.
+
+"You are being punished for being too fascinating to a poor little fool
+princess who has played truant and who doesn't want to go back to
+school." She talked on with forced levity. "As for the kingdom,"--once
+more her eyes became wistful--"you may say what you like about it. You
+can't possibly hate it as much as I. There is no anarchist screaming his
+adherence to the red flag or inventing infernal machines, who hates all
+thrones as much as the one small girl who must needs be Queen of
+Galavia. No, _lèse-majesté_ is not the fault for which you are being
+punished."
+
+For a while he was silent, then his voice was raised in exile, almost
+cheerfully.
+
+"Destiny is stronger than the paretic councils of little inbred kings.
+Why, Cara, I can get one good, husky Methodist preacher who can do in
+five minutes what I hardly think your royalties can undo--ever."
+
+"Oh, don't!" she stopped him with plaintive appeal. "I know all that. I
+know it. Don't you realize that the longer the flight into the open blue
+of the skies, the harder the return to a gilt cage? But, dearest--there
+is such a thing as keeping one's parole. I must go back, unless I am
+held by a force stronger than I. I must go back. I have been here almost
+too long."
+
+"Cara," he said slowly, "I, too, have a sense of duty. It is to you. The
+open blue of the skies is yours by right--divine right. You have nothing
+to do with cages, gilt or otherwise. My duty is to free you. I mean to
+do it. I haven't finished thinking it out yet, but I am going to find
+the way."
+
+Her answering voice was deeply grave.
+
+"If you just devise a situation where I shall have to fight it all out
+again, you will only make it harder for me. I must do what I must do. I
+could only be rescued by some power stronger than myself. Come, let's
+go back."
+
+At dinner that same evening Mrs. Van announced to her guests that "by
+request of one who should be nameless," punctuating her pledge of
+secrecy with a pronounced glance at Benton, there would be a masquerade
+affair on the evening before Cara's departure for New York. She said
+this was to be an informal sort of frolic in fancy dress, and the only
+requirement would be that every grown-up should for an evening return to
+childhood.
+
+On the next morning ensued a hegira from the place, the object whereof
+was guarded with the most diplomatic deception and secrecy.
+
+"Why this unanimous desertion?" demanded Van indignantly from the head
+of the table when it began to develop that an exodus impended. "Do your
+appetites crave the stimulus of city cooking? Are you leaving my simple
+roof for the lobster palaces?"
+
+Benton shook his head. "Singular," he commented, studying his
+grape-fruit with the air of an oracle gazing into crystal. "There, for
+example, is Colonel Centress who will probably tell you that he has had
+an imperative summons to confer with his brokers and--"
+
+He paused, while the ancient beau across the table quickly nodded
+affirmation.
+
+"Quite so. How did you guess it?" he inquired.
+
+"Never talk business at table, of course, but this is a mysterious
+flurry in stocks--quite a mysterious flurry."
+
+"Quite so," echoed Benton. "Nevertheless, if you were to shadow the
+gallant Colonel in Manhattan to-day he would probably lead you to a
+costuming tailor, where you would discover him in the act of being
+fitted with a Roman toga or a crusader's mail."
+
+Mrs. Porter-Woodleigh shot a malicious glance at the tall foreigner
+whose emotionless face proved a constant irritation to her exuberant
+vivacity. "I understand, Colonel Von Ritz," she innocently suggested,
+"that you are to impersonate a polar bear."
+
+The Galavian smiled deep in his eyes only; his lips remained sober. One
+would have said that he had not recognized the thrust. "I shall only
+remain myself," he replied. "I am allowed to be a looker-on in Venice."
+
+Under her breath the widow confided to her next neighbor: "Ah! then it
+is true."
+
+"What are _you_ going to town for?" demanded Mrs. Van, looking
+accusingly at Benton, as that gentleman arose from the table.
+
+"I should say," he laughingly responded, "that I am going to complete
+final arrangements for getting the Isis into commission, but nobody
+would believe me. You are all becoming so diplomatic of late!"
+
+Von Ritz glanced up casually. "There is one very dangerous
+diplomacy--one very difficult to become accustomed to," he commented.
+"I allude to the American diplomacy of frankness."
+
+"The _Isis_? To think I have never seen your yacht!" mused Cara. "And
+yet you are allowing me to cross on a steamer."
+
+"If she could be put in shape so soon," declared Benton regretfully,
+glancing from Von Ritz to Pagratide, "I should shanghai Mrs. Van for a
+chaperon and give a party to Europe. Unfortunately I can't get her in
+readiness promptly enough; unless," he added hopefully, "Miss Carstow
+can postpone her sailing-day?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+IN WHICH ROMEO BECOMES DROMIO
+
+
+When Benton had straightened out his car for the run to the city, and
+the road had begun to slip away under the tires, he turned to McGuire,
+his chauffeur.
+
+"McGuire," he inquired, "where is the runabout?"
+
+"At 'Idle Times,' sir. You loaned it to Mr. Bristow to fill up the
+garage."
+
+"I remember. Now, listen!" And as Benton talked a slow grin of
+contentment spread across the visage of Mr. McGuire, hinting of some
+enterprise that appealed to his venturesome soul with a lure beyond the
+ordinary.
+
+In the city, Benton was a busy man, though his visit to the costumer's
+was brief. Coming out of the place, he fancied he caught a glimpse of
+Von Ritz, but the view was fleeting and he decided that his eyes must
+have deceived him. He had himself patronized a rather obscure shop,
+recommended by Mr. McGuire. Von Ritz would presumably have selected some
+more fashionable purveyor of disguises even had his assertion that he
+would not masquerade been made only to deceive. Perhaps, thought the
+American, Colonel Von Ritz was becoming an obsession with him, merely
+because he stood for Galavia and the threat of royalty's mandate. He was
+convinced of this later in the day, when he once more fancied that a
+disappearing pair of broad shoulders belonged to the European. This time
+he laughed at the idea. The surroundings made the supposition ludicrous.
+It was among the tawdry shops of ship chandlers in the East Side, where
+he himself had gone in search of certain able seamen in the company of
+the sailing-master of the _Isis_. Von Ritz would hardly be consorting
+with the fo'castle men who frequent the water front below Brooklyn
+Bridge.
+
+The few days of the last week raced by, with all the charm of sky and
+field that the magic of Indian summer can lavish, and for Benton and
+Cara, they raced also with the sense of fast-slipping hope and
+relentlessly marching doom. Outwardly Cara set a pace for vivacious and
+care-free enjoyment that left Mrs. Porter-Woodleigh, the
+"semi-professional light-hearted lady," as O'Barreton named her, "to
+trail along in the ruck." Alone with Benton, there was always the furrow
+between the brows and the distressed gaze upon the mystery beyond the
+sky-line, but Pagratide and Von Ritz were vigilant, to the end that
+their tête-à-têtes were few.
+
+Neither Benton nor Cara had alluded to the man's overbold assertion that
+he would find a way. It was a futile thing said in eagerness. The day of
+the dance, the last day they could hope for together, came unprefaced by
+development. To-morrow she must take up her journey and her duty: her
+holiday would be at its end. It was all the greater reason why this
+evening should be memorable. He should think of her afterward as he saw
+her to-night, and it pleased her that in the irresponsibility of the
+maskers she should appear to him in the garb of vagabond liberty, since
+in fact freedom was impossible to her.
+
+As the kaleidoscope of the first dance sifted and shifted its pattern of
+color, three men stood by the door, scanning the disguised figures with
+watchful eyes.
+
+One of the three was fantastically arrayed as a cannibal chief, in brown
+fleshings, with cuffs upon his ankles, gaudy decorations about his neck,
+and huge rings in nose and ears.
+
+The second man was a Bedouin: a camel-driver of the Libyan Desert. From
+the black horsehair circlet on his temples a turban-scarf fell to his
+shoulders. He was wrapped in a brown cashmere cloak which dropped
+domino-like to his ankles. Shaggy brows ran in an unbroken line from
+temple to temple, masking his eyes, while a fierce mustache and beard
+obliterated the contour of his lower face. His cheek-bones and forehead
+showed, under some dye, as dark as leather, and as his gaze searchingly
+raked the crowds, he fingered a string of Moslem prayer-beads.
+
+The third man was conspicuous in ordinary dress. Save for the decoration
+of the Order of Takavo, suspended by a crimson ribbon on his
+shirt-front, and the Star of Galavia, on the left lapel of his coat,
+there was no break in the black and white scheme of his evening clothes.
+Von Ritz had told the truth. He was not disguised. He stood, his arms
+folded on his breast, towering above the Fiji Islander, possibly a
+quarter of an inch taller than the Bedouin. A half-amused smile lurked
+in his steady eyes--the smile of unwavering brows and dispassionately
+steady mouth-line.
+
+The cannibal chief waved his hand. "Bright the lamps shone o'er fair
+women and brave men!" he declaimed, in a disguised voice; then scowled
+about him villainously, remembering that an affable quoting of Lord
+Byron is incompatible with the qualities of a man-eating savage.
+
+The Bedouin gravely inclined his head. "_Allahu Akbar!_" he responded,
+in a soft voice.
+
+Suddenly the caravan driver commenced a hurried and zigzag course across
+the crowded floor. The eyes of Colonel Von Ritz indolently followed.
+
+Through a low-silled window a girl had just entered, carrying herself
+with the untrammeled freedom of some wild thing, erect, poised from the
+waist, rhythmic in motion. Her walk was like the scansion of good verse.
+The Bedouin caught the grace before the ensemble of costume met his eye.
+It was in harmony.
+
+She wore a silk skirt to the ankles, and about her waist and hips was
+bound the yellow and red sash of the Spanish gipsy, tightly knotted, and
+falling at its tasseled ends. Her arms were bare to the elbows, and gay
+with bracelets; her hair fell from her forehead and temples, dropping
+over her shoulders in two ribbon bound braids. A tall, gray-cowled monk,
+whose military bearing gave the lie to his cassock, a Spanish grandee,
+and a fool in motley saw her at the same moment and hurried to intercept
+her, but with a slide which carried him a quarter of the way across the
+floor the Bedouin arrived first, and before the others had come up he
+was drifting away with her in the tide of the dancers.
+
+"Allah is good to me--Flamencine," whispered the camel-driver as he drew
+her close to avoid a careless dancer.
+
+"Why, Flamencine?" demanded a carefully altered voice, from which,
+however, the music had not been eliminated.
+
+"Don't you remember?" The Arab stole a covert, identifying glance down
+at the tip of one ear which showed under its masking of brown hair--an
+ear that looked as though it were chiseled from the pink coral of
+Capri. He quoted:
+
+
+     "'There was a gipsy maiden within the forest green,
+     There was a gipsy maiden who shook a tambourine.
+     The stars of night had not the face,
+     The woodland wind had not the grace,
+       Of Flamencine.'"
+
+
+Then the music stopped, and with its silencing came the monk, the clown,
+the grandee, and others.
+
+In the insistent demand of the many the Arab had too few dances with the
+Spanish girl. There were Comanches, Samurai, policemen, Zulus and
+courtiers, who, seeing her dance, discovered that their immediate
+avocation was dancing with her.
+
+Yet it wanted an hour of unmasking time when a Bedouin led a gipsy
+maiden from Andalusia into the deserted library, where the darkness was
+broken only by blazing logs on an open hearth.
+
+When they were alone he turned to her anxiously. His voice was freighted
+with appeal. Her face, now unmasked, wore an expression of stunned
+misery.
+
+"Dear," he asked, "how are you?"
+
+She gazed at the flickering logs. "I should think you would know," she
+answered wearily. Then, with a mirthless laugh, she spread both hands
+toward the blaze. "I'm looking ahead--I can see it all there in the
+fire." Her fingers convulsively clenched themselves until blue marks
+showed against the pink palms.
+
+He pushed a chair forward for her, but with a shake of her head she
+declined it.
+
+"Whoever heard of a gipsy girl sitting in a leather chair?" she
+demanded. "It's more like--like some effete princess."
+
+She dropped to the Persian rug and, gathering her knees between her
+clasped hands, sat looking into the dying blaze. "For a few brief
+minutes I am the gipsy girl," she added.
+
+"And," he said, dropping cross-legged to the rug at her side, "when the
+caravan halts at evening, and prayers have been said facing Mecca, and
+the grunting camels kneel, to be unloaded, neither do we, the gipsies of
+the desert, sit in chairs." He swayed slightly toward her, lowering his
+voice to a whisper. As the soft touch of her shoulder brushed him and
+electrified him, his cashmere-draped arms closed around her and held her
+hungrily to him. The vagrant maiden of Andalusia and the caravan-driver
+of Africa sat gazing together at the glowing pictures in the logs as
+they turned slowly to ashes.
+
+"Cara," he went on in a voice of pent-up earnestness, "we be nomads--we
+two. 'The scarlet of the maples can shake us like the cry of bugles
+going by.' Come away with me while there is time. Let us follow out our
+destinies where gipsy blood calls us; in the desert, the jungle,
+wherever you say. Let your fancy be our guide--your heart our compass.
+Suppose"--he paused and, with one outstretched arm, pointed to the
+fire--"suppose that to be a camp-fire--what do you see in the coals?"
+
+"I have already told you," she said wearily. "I see a throne, a life
+with all the confining littleness of a prison, with none of the breadth
+of an empire. I see the sacrifice of all I love. I see year upon year of
+purple desolation.... Purple is the color of mourning and royalty."
+
+She fell silent, and he spoke slowly.
+
+"I see the desert, many-hued, like an opal with the setting of the sun.
+I see the flickering of camp-fires and the palm-fringe of an oasis. I
+see the tapering minarets of a mosque, and the long booths of the
+bazaars. I smell the scent of the perfume-seller's stall, the heavy
+sweetness of attar of roses.... I hear the tinkle of camel bells....
+There comes a change.... I see a mountain-pass and a mule-train crawling
+through the dust, I see the paths that go around the world. Which of our
+pictures do you prefer?"
+
+She gave a pained, low cry, and buried her face passionately on his
+shoulder. "Oh, you know, you know!" she cried, in a piteous voice. "And
+you love me, yet you tempt me to break my parole. If I could do it and
+be freed of the responsibility! If a miracle could work itself!"
+
+"Cara," he whispered, resolutely steadying himself, "don't forget the
+gospel according to Jonesy. You can't dam up the tributaries of the
+heart. Some day you must come to me. That much is immutably written. For
+God's sake come now while the road is still clear. Otherwise we shall
+grope our ways to each other, even if it be through tragedy--through
+hell itself."
+
+For a moment she gazed at him with wide eyes.
+
+"I know it--" she whispered in a frightened voice. "I know it--and yet I
+must go ahead."
+
+He rose and lifted her; then as she stood clinging to him he said: "I
+ask your forgiveness if I've made it harder--and one boon. Slip away
+with me and give me an hour with you."
+
+"They will find me. Pagratide and Von Ritz will find me," she objected
+helplessly. "They won't let us be alone for long."
+
+"Listen," he replied. "It is not too cold and the moon is brilliant. It
+is the last real moon for me. Come with me in my car for a while."
+
+"You must not make love to me," she stipulated. "I am going to try to
+get my face properly composed--and if you make love to me, I can't.
+Besides, when you make love I'm rather afraid of you. So you mustn't."
+
+Then, with a wild spasmodic gesture, she caught the edges of his
+cashmere cloak and gripped them tightly in both hands as she looked up
+into his eyes and impetuously contradicted herself.
+
+"Yes, please do," she appealed.
+
+He laughed. "Destiny says I must make love to you," he asserted, "and
+who am I to disobey Destiny?"
+
+Outside, she insisted upon waiting by the bridge while he went for his
+car. So he turned and started alone to the point on the driveway just
+around the angle of the house, where McGuire, pursuant to previous
+orders, was to be waiting with the machine. It had been only an hour
+since Benton had slipped away from the dancers and consulted with
+McGuire in the shadow of the wall, instructing him explicitly in his
+duties. McGuire was to wait with the machine ready upon call. The lamps
+were not to be lighted. When Benton came, the chauffeur was to run the
+car to the point where a lady should enter it. He was at that point to
+leave, without words. It had been impressed on McGuire that utter
+silence was imperative. The chauffeur was then to follow in the
+runabout, acting as a reserve in the event of need. Both cars were to
+take a certain circuitous route to a point on the shore thirty miles
+distant, the runabout keeping just close enough to hold the first car
+in sight. McGuire had listened and understood. Yet now McGuire was
+missing, together with one very necessary motor-car.
+
+As Benton stood, boiling with wrath at the miscarriage of his plans, he
+fancied he heard the soft muffled song of his motor just beyond the turn
+where the road circled the house. He bent and held a lighted match close
+to the gravel. On a muddied spot he found the easily recognizable tread
+of his tires. The car had been there. For the sake of speed he ran to
+the garage near by and took a swift look at the runabout. It was
+waiting, and, thanks to the God of Machines, would start on compression.
+He flung himself to the driver's seat and gave it the spark. Far
+away--about as far as the bridge, he calculated--he heard one short,
+cautious blast of an automobile horn.
+
+Just before the last turn brought him to the bridge, where he should
+meet Cara, he noticed a man hurrying toward him, on foot, and recognized
+McGuire. Totally mystified, he slowed down the machine.
+
+"Get in, you infernal blockhead," he called. "Tell me about it as we go.
+I'm in a hurry."
+
+But McGuire performed strangely. He clapped one hand to his forehead and
+looked at his employer out of large, wild eyes. "Am I dippy? My God! Am
+I dippy?" he exclaimed, repeating the question over and over in a low,
+trembling voice.
+
+"Apparently you are. Get in, damn you!" Benton ordered.
+
+"It's weird," declared McGuire. "It's damned weird."
+
+"Why, sir," he ran on, talking fast, now that the first shock was over
+and his tongue again loosened. "Either I've made a fool mistake, or else
+I'm crazier than hell. I waited at the place you said. You--or your
+ghost--came and took his seat, and waved his hand. I started the car for
+the bridge. He didn't say a word. At the bridge I jumped out. He was
+you--and yet you are here--same size--same costume--same beard--even the
+same beads around the neck."
+
+They had almost reached the bridge and were slowing down when Benton,
+scanning the road, empty in the moonlight, grasped for the first time a
+definite suspicion of what had happened.
+
+"Cara!" he shouted. "Good God, where is she?"
+
+The chauffeur leaned over and shouted into his ear. "I'm telling you,
+sir. The lady's in that other car--with that other edition of you. And,
+sir--beggin' your pardon--they're beatin' it like hell!"
+
+Benton's only answer was to feed gas to the spark so frantically that
+the car seemed to rise from the ground and shiver before it settled
+again. Then it shot forward and reeled crazily into a speed never
+intended for a curving road at night.
+
+The moonlight fell on a gray streak of a car, driven by a maniac with a
+scarf blowing back from a turban over two wildly gleaming eyes.
+
+Back at "Idle Times" a Capuchin monk, wandering apart from the dancers
+in consonance with the austere proclaiming of his garb, was studying the
+frivolous gamboling of a school of fountain gold-fish in the
+conservatory. He looked up, scowling, to take a note from a servant.
+
+"Colonel Von Ritz said to hand this to the gentleman masquerading as a
+monk," explained the man.
+
+"Von Ritz," growled the monk. "He annoys me."
+
+He impatiently tore open the letter and scanned it. His brows contracted
+in astonished mystification, then slowly his eyes narrowed and kindled.
+
+The scrawl ran:
+
+"Your Highness: If you see neither Mr. Benton, masquerading as an Arab,
+her Highness, the Princess, nor myself in ten minutes from the time of
+receiving this, take the car which you will find ready in the garage. My
+orderly will be there to act as your chauffeur. Follow the main road to
+the second village. Turn there to the right, and drive to the small
+bay, where you will find me or an explanation. I have been conducting
+certain investigations. The affair is urgent and touches matters of
+great import to Europe as well us to Your Highness."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+IN WHICH DROMIO BECOMES ROMEO
+
+
+When Cara, waiting at the bridge, had seen the car flash up, a bearded
+Bedouin at the wheel, she had leaped lightly to the seat beside him,
+without waiting for the machine to come to a full stop; then she had
+thrown herself back luxuriously on the cushions with a sigh of
+satisfaction, and had only said: "Drive me fast."
+
+For a long time she lay back, drinking, in long draughts, the spiced
+night air, frosted only enough to give it flavor. There was no necessity
+for speech, and above, the stars glittered lavishly, despite the white
+light of the moon.
+
+At last she murmured half-aloud and almost contentedly: "'Who knows but
+the world may end to-night?'"
+
+Above the throbbing purr of the engine which had already done ten miles,
+the man beside her caught the voice, but missed the words. He bent
+forward.
+
+"I beg your pardon?" he politely inquired.
+
+At the question she started violently, and both hands came to her heart
+with a spasmodic movement. Von Ritz carried the car around an ugly rut.
+
+"Don't be alarmed, Your Highness," he said, in a cold, evenly modulated
+voice which, though pitched low, carried clearly above the noise of the
+cylinders. "I may call you 'Your Highness' now, may I not? We are quite
+alone. Or do you still prefer that I respect your incognita?"
+
+The girl's eyes blazed upon him until he could feel their intense
+focusing, though he kept his own fixed unbendingly on the road ahead.
+Finally she mastered her anger enough to speak.
+
+"Colonel Von Ritz," she commanded, "you will take me back at once!" She
+drew herself as far away from him as the space on the seat permitted.
+
+"Your Highness's commands are supreme." The man spoke in the same even
+voice. "I intend taking Your Highness back--when it is safer for Your
+Highness to go back."
+
+He turned the car suddenly to the right and sped along the narrower road
+that led away from the main thoroughfare.
+
+"You will take me back, now. I had not supposed that to a gentleman--"
+Her voice choked into silence and her eyes filled with angry tears.
+
+"Your Highness misunderstands," he said coldly. "I obey the throne. If I
+live long enough to serve it in another reign, Your Highness will be
+Your Majesty. Yet even then will your commands be no more supreme to
+me--no more sacred--than now. But even then, Your Highness--"
+
+"Call me Miss Carstow," she interrupted in impassioned anger. "I will
+have my freedom for to-night at least."
+
+"Yet even then, Miss Carstow," he calmly resumed, "when danger threatens
+you or your throne, I shall take such means as I can to avert that
+danger, as I am doing now. Even though"--for a moment the cold, metallic
+evenness left his voice and a human note stole into his words--"even
+though the reward be contempt."
+
+She did not answer.
+
+"Your High--Miss Carstow,"--Von Ritz spoke with a deferential
+finality--"believe me, some things are inevitable."
+
+Suddenly the car stopped.
+
+The girl made a movement as though she would rise, but the man's arm
+quietly stretched itself across before her, not touching her, but
+forming an effective barrier.
+
+She did not speak, but her eyes blazed indignantly. For the first time
+he was able to return her gaze directly, and as she looked into the
+unflinching gray pupils, under the level brows, there was a momentary
+combat, then her own dropped. He sat for a space with his arm
+outstretched, holding her prisoner in the seat.
+
+"Your Highness"--he spoke as impersonally as a judge ruling from the
+bench--"I must remind you again that I am your escort to-night only in
+order that someone else may not be. What his plans were, I need not now
+say, but I know, and it became my duty to thwart him. It is hardly
+necessary to explain how I discovered Mr. Benton's purpose. It was not
+easy, but it has been accomplished. I have acquainted myself with his
+movements, his intention, and his preparations; I have even
+counterfeited his masquerade and stolen his car. There are bigger things
+at stake than individual wishes. I stand for the throne. Mr. Benton has
+played a daring game--and lost."
+
+He paused, and she found herself watching with a strange fascination the
+face almost marble-like in its steadiness.
+
+"Some day--perhaps soon," he went on, the arm unmoved, "you will be
+Queen of Galavia." She shuddered. "You can then strip away my epaulets
+if you choose. For the moment, however, I must regard you as a prisoner
+of war and ask your parole, as a gentleman and an officer, not to leave
+the car while I investigate the trouble with the motor. Otherwise--" he
+added composedly, "we shall have to remain as we are."
+
+She hesitated, her chin thrown up and her eyes blazing; then, with a
+glance at the unmoving arm, she bowed reluctant assent.
+
+"All I promise is to remain in the car," she said. "May I go back into
+the tonneau?"
+
+Satisfying himself that the engine was temporarily dead, he responded,
+with a half-smile, "That promise I think is sufficient."
+
+He bent to his task of diagnosis. After much futile spinning of the
+crank, he rose and contemplated the stalled engine.
+
+"Since this machine went out with lamps unlighted, and I have no matches
+in this garb, I must go to that farmhouse up the hillside--where the
+light shines through the trees--. Will Your Highness regard your parole
+as effective until my return, not to leave the car? Yes? I thank Your
+Highness; I shall not be long."
+
+The girl for answer honked the horn in several loud blasts, and he
+stopped with a murmured apology to silence it by tearing off the bulb
+and throwing it to one side.
+
+The Colonel turned and took his way through the woods, statuesquely
+upright and spectral in his long Arab cloak.
+
+Benton and McGuire had just passed the crossing where Von Ritz had left
+the main road, when McGuire's quick ear caught the familiar tooting of
+the other horn and brought his hand to his employer's arm. The car was
+stopped, and McGuire, by match-light, examined the road with its frosty
+mud unmarked by fresh automobile tracks, save those running back from
+their own tires.
+
+The runabout turned and slipped along cautiously to the rear, watchful
+for byways. At the cross-road McGuire was out again. His match, held
+close to the mud and gravel, revealed the tread of familiar tires.
+
+"All right, sir," he briefly reported. "The other edition went this
+track."
+
+With a twist of the wheel Benton was again on the trail. Back in the
+side lane stood a car in which a girl sat alone, solemnly indignant.
+
+"Cara!" Benton was standing on the step. His voice was tremulous with
+solicitude and perplexed anxiety. "Cara!" he repeated. "What does it
+mean?"
+
+"I don't know," she responded coolly. "Something seems to be broken."
+
+"I don't mean that." McGuire was already investigating. "What does it
+mean?"
+
+She sighed wearily.
+
+"When I foolishly agreed to play Juliet to your Romeo," she informed
+him, and her tones were frigid, "I didn't know that your Romeo was
+really only a Dromio. The other edition of you"--he flinched at the
+words, and McGuire choked violently--"is back there, I believe, hunting
+for matches."
+
+"She's all right, sir," interrupted McGuire in triumph. "She'll travel
+now. It's only disconnected spark plugs and a short circuiting."
+
+"Travel, then!" snapped Benton. "Leave the runabout here. The other
+gentleman may prefer not to walk home."
+
+As he swung himself into the tonneau, the chauffeur had already seized
+the wheel and the car was backing for the turn. Far back up the hillside
+there was a crashing of underbrush. A spectral figure, struggling with
+the unaccustomed drapery of a Bedouin robe, emerged from the woods into
+the open, and halted in momentary astonishment.
+
+"I believe I am under parole--to the other Dromio--not to run away," she
+suggested wearily.
+
+"Oh, that's all right; I'm doing this and I have no treaty with
+Galavia," replied the gentleman pleasantly. "Hit her up a bit, McGuire."
+
+He took one of the hands that lay wearily in Cara's lap and she did not
+withdraw it. She only lay back in the leather upholstery and said
+nothing. Finally he bent nearer.
+
+"Dearest," he said. There was no answer.
+
+"Dearest," he whispered again.
+
+She only turned her head and smiled forgiveness.
+
+"What is the matter?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, I'm so tired--so tired of all of it," she sighed. "Don't you see?
+I wish someone bigger than I am would take me away to a place where they
+had never heard of a throne--somewhere beyond the Milky Way."
+
+He took her in his arms, and the spangle-crowned gipsy head fell heavily
+on his shoulder. She stretched up both arms towards the stars, and the
+moonlight glinted from her gilt bracelets.
+
+"Somewhere beyond the Milky Way," she murmured, then collapsed like a
+tired child and lay still.
+
+"Dearest," he whispered, "I'll tell you a secret." He paused and
+listened to the rhythmic cylinders throbbing a racing pulse; he looked
+back at the white band of road that was being flung out behind them like
+thread from a falling spool. He held her fiercely to him and kissed her.
+"I'll tell you a secret. You are being stolen. The _Isis_ is waiting in
+a little cove, and there is steam in her engines, and a chaplain on
+board. If it's necessary I shall run up the skull and cross-bones at her
+masthead. Do you hear?" Then, with a less piratical voice: "Dearest, I
+love you."
+
+She looked up drowsily into his eyes. "You don't have to be such a
+boa-constrictor," she suggested. "You are not a cave-man, after all, you
+know, if you _are_ taking a lady without asking her." Then she
+contentedly whispered: "I'm going to sleep." And she did.
+
+As the car at last swept around a curve and took the shore road, Benton
+caught, far away as yet, the red and green glint of tiny port and
+starboard lights on the bridge of the _Isis_, and the long ruby and
+emerald shafts quivering beneath in the calm waters of the bay. In the
+light of a low moon, swinging down the midnight sky, the trim silhouette
+of the yacht stood out boldly.
+
+Cara, after sleeping through the rowboat stage of the journey, awoke on
+the deck of the _Isis_ and gazed wonderingly about. In her ears was the
+sound of anchor chains upon the capstan.
+
+"Is it a dream?" she asked.
+
+"It is a dream to me, but I am going to make it real," he responded.
+
+She went to the rail. He followed her.
+
+"I shouldn't have let you, but I was so tired," she said, "I hardly knew
+where the dream began and the reality ended. Ah, I wish the dream could
+come true."
+
+"This one is to come true, Cara," he whispered.
+
+She shook her head. "Stand still!" she commanded.
+
+He was bending forward with his elbows on the rail. Suddenly, with
+something like a stifled sob, she caught his head in both arms and held
+him close, so close that he heard her heart pounding and her breath
+coming with spasmodic gasps. He put out his arms, but she held him off.
+
+"No, no; don't touch me now--only listen!"
+
+He waited a moment before she spoke again.
+
+"You said I was your prisoner." Her voice dropped in a tremor as though
+the tears would prevail, but she steadied it and went on. "I wish I
+were. Always I am your prisoner, but I must go back. It is because it is
+written."
+
+He straightened up and took her in his arms. "I know how you have
+settled it," he said, "but I have stolen you. The anchor is coming up.
+You love me--I have claimed what is mine. It is now beyond your power,
+your responsibility."
+
+"No, it is not," she softly denied. "I will not marry you--but I love
+you--I love you!"
+
+"You mean that if I hold you my prisoner you will still not be my wife?"
+he incredulously demanded.
+
+Slowly she nodded her head.
+
+The man gazed off with the eyes of one stunned and slowly fought himself
+back into control before he trusted his voice. After a while, he raised
+his face and spoke in fragmentary sentences, his voice pitched low, his
+words broken.
+
+"But you said--just now--back there on the road--you wished someone
+stronger than yourself--would take you away somewhere--beyond the Milky
+Way."
+
+His tones strengthened and suddenly he almost sang out with recovered
+resolution, speaking buoyantly and triumphantly.
+
+"Dearest, I am stronger than you, and I'm going to take you away--I'm
+going to take you beyond the Milky Way, to the uttermost stars of Love.
+How can it matter to me how far, if you are there?"
+
+Again she shook her head.
+
+"No, dear," she whispered, "you are not so strong as I, in this, because
+I am strong enough to say No when my heart says only Yes--and because
+Fate is stronger than any of us."
+
+"Boat ahoy!" came a voice from the crow's nest.
+
+"They have come for you," he said, speaking as through a fog. "Show them
+here," he shouted to an officer who was hurrying to the gangway.
+
+Two figures came over the side, and slowly followed the first officer
+forward. One was a Capuchin monk, bearing himself rigidly; at his side
+strode a Bedouin, bedraggled, but erect and military of bearing. The
+original Arab turned with a sudden sag of the shoulders and looked
+helplessly out at the path of silver that stretched across the water
+below, to the moon, now sunk close to the horizon. He waved one hand in
+a gesture of submission and despair, and stood silent.
+
+The gipsy girl, standing near, took a sudden step forward and stood
+close to him us the others approached.
+
+"They may take me back if they wish to, now," she said, with a suddenly
+upflaring defiance. "But they shall find me like this!" And she flung
+her arms about his neck and kissed him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE PRINCESS CONSULTS JONESY
+
+
+The coldness of the moonlight killed the pallor of Karyl's face, but
+added a note of stark accentuation to his set chin and labored
+self-containment. Von Ritz, despite his bedraggled masquerade was as
+composed and expressionless as though he had seen nothing beyond the
+expected. With Von Ritz nothing was beyond the expected.
+
+He had to-night counterfeited Benton's disguise; stolen Benton's car;
+substituted himself for the American and made a decisive effort to
+interrupt the kidnaping of a Queen.
+
+Finding himself checkmated, he had joined forces with the Prince and
+brought the pursuit to a successful termination. His manner now was
+precisely what it had been last night, when his only excitement had been
+a game of billiards. Men who knew him would have told you that his
+manner had been the same on a certain red and smoky day when the order
+of Takavo had been pinned on his breast, in the reek and noise of a
+battlefield.
+
+After a moment of tense silence, Benton took a step forward.
+
+"At any suitable time," he said, in a voice too low for Cara to catch,
+"I shall, of course, be entirely at your service."
+
+Pagratide drew a labored breath, but when he raised his head it was to
+lift his brows inquiringly.
+
+"For what?" he asked in an equally low tone. "Have I asked any
+questions?" In a matter-of-fact voice he added: "It is growing late. If
+Miss Carstow has finished the inspection of your yacht, I suggest a
+return."
+
+Benton recognized the other's refusal to read his motive. After all that
+was the best course; the only course. Pagratide stepped forward.
+
+"Mr. Benton had the pleasure of driving you down--" he suggested, "may I
+have the same honor, returning?"
+
+The girl met the eyes of the Prince, with defiance in her own.
+
+"I am not a child!" she vehemently declared. "We may as well be honest
+with each other. If he had chosen to have it so, you could not have come
+aboard. I must obey the decrees of State!" She paused, then impulsively
+swept on: "I can force myself to do what I must do, but I cannot compel
+my heart--that is his, utterly his." She raised both hands. "Now you
+know," she said. "You may decide."
+
+Karyl inclined his head.
+
+"I have questioned nothing," he repeated. "Will you honor me by
+returning in my car?"
+
+Cara tilted her chin rebelliously.
+
+"No," she said, "I don't think I shall. My vacation ends to-morrow if
+you still wish it, but to-night it has not ended. I return with Mr.
+Benton."
+
+Pagratide stiffened painfully, but with supreme self-mastery he forced a
+smile as though he had asked nothing more than a dance--and had found it
+engaged.
+
+"I must submit," he replied in a steady voice. "I even understand. But
+you will agree with me that they"--with a gesture toward the direction
+from which they had come--"had best know nothing."
+
+Benton and Von Ritz went to the gangway, where the yachtsman bent
+forward to give some direction to the boat crew below.
+
+"Karyl!" The girl moved impulsively toward the man she must marry, and
+laid a hand on his arm. "Karyl," she said plaintively, "if you only
+wanted to marry me for State reasons--it would be different. It wouldn't
+hurt me then to hurt you. You mean so much as a friend, but I can never
+be in love with you. You are being unfair with yourself--if you go on. I
+must be honest with you."
+
+Pagratide spoke slowly, and his voice carried the tremor of feeling.
+
+"You have always been honest with me, and I will make you love me. Until
+you marry me I have no privilege to question you. When you do, I shall
+not have to question you." He leaned forward and spoke confidently. "I
+would marry you if you hated me--and then I would win your love!"
+
+An hour later the Spanish gipsy girl, having shown herself in the
+emptying ball-room with ingenious excuses for her long absence, took
+refuge in her own apartments.
+
+On sailing day, Benton, at the pier, watched the steamer stand out into
+the river between the coming and going of ferry-boats and tugs. About
+him stamped the usual farewell throng with hats raised and handkerchiefs
+a-flutter. The music of the ship's band grew faint as a wider and wider
+gap of water opened between the wharf and the liner's gray hull.
+
+Gradually the crowd scattered back through the great barn-like spaces of
+the pier-house to be re-absorbed by cabs, motors and surface-cars into
+the main arteries of the city's life. It was over. _Bon voyage_ had been
+said. One more ship had put out to sea.
+
+Benton stood looking after a slim figure in a blue traveling gown and
+dark furs, pressed against the after-rail, her handkerchief waving in
+the raw wind. Most of the sea-going ones had retreated into the shelter
+of the saloon or cabin, but she remained.
+
+Van Bristow, shivering at his friend's elbow, did not suggest turning
+back.
+
+Cara stood, still looking shoreward, a furrow between her brows, her
+checks pale, her fingers tightly gripping the rail. She was holding with
+that grip to all her shaken self-command.
+
+She saw the fang-edged skyline of lower Manhattan lifting its gray
+shafts through wet streamers of fog; she saw flotillas of squat
+ferry-boats shouldering their ways against the sullen heave of the
+river's tide-water; she heard the discordant shriek of their steam
+throats; she saw the tilting swoop of a hundred gulls, buffeting the
+wind; but she was conscious only of the vista of oily water widening
+between herself and him.
+
+Von Ritz had long since drifted into the smoking-room where the men were
+christening the voyage with brandy-and-soda and dropping into tentative
+groups, regardful of future poker games.
+
+Pagratide, at Cara's elbow, was silent, respecting her silence.
+
+When at last the two had the deck to themselves and Manhattan had become
+a shadowy and ragged monotone, she turned and smiled. It was a smile of
+accepting the inevitable. He went with her to the forward deck where
+her staterooms were situated, and left her there in silence.
+
+Von Ritz, standing apart near the threshold of the smokeroom, heard his
+name paged almost before the speaker had entered the door, and turned to
+take from the hand of the bearer a Marconigram just relayed from shore.
+He read it and for an instant a look of pain crossed the features that
+rarely yielded to expression. Then he sought out Karyl's stateroom.
+
+Karyl turned wearily from the wintry picture of a sullenly heaving sea,
+to answer the rap on the door. His face did not brighten as he
+recognized Von Ritz.
+
+The Colonel was that type of being upon whom men may depend or whom they
+must fear. Whenever there was need, Karyl had come to know that there
+would be Von Ritz, but also there went with him an austerity and an
+impersonality that robbed him of the gratitude and love he might have
+claimed.
+
+Now there was a note almost surly in the expression with which the
+Prince looked up to greet his father's confidential representative.
+
+"Well?" he demanded.
+
+For answer the officer held out the message.
+
+Karyl puckered his brows over the intricacies of the code and handed it
+back.
+
+"Be good enough to construe it," he commanded.
+
+"The King," said Von Ritz, "is ill. His Majesty wishes to instruct you
+in certain matters before--" He broke off with something like a catch in
+his voice, then continued calmly. "Recovery is despaired of, though
+death may not be immediate."
+
+Karyl turned away, not wishing the soldier to see the tears he felt in
+his eyes, and Von Ritz discreetly withdrew as far as the door. There he
+paused, and after a moment's hesitation inquired:
+
+"Her Highness goes to Maritzburg--to her father's Court--I presume?"
+
+With his back still turned, the Prince nodded. "Why?" he demanded.
+
+"Because--the message holds no hope--" Von Ritz paused, then added
+quietly "--and if Your Highness is called upon to mount the throne, it
+is advisable to hasten the marriage."
+
+He backed out, closing the door behind him.
+
+In her own cabin the girl had bolted the door. At the small desk of her
+_suite-de-luxe_ she sat with her head on her crossed arms. For a
+half-hour she remained motionless.
+
+Finally she rose and, with uncertain hands, opened a suitcase, drawing
+from its place among filmy fabrics and feminine essentials a small,
+squat figure of time-corroded clay. The little Inca _huaca_ had perhaps
+looked with that same unseeing squint upon Princesses of other
+dynasties so long dead that their heartbreaks and ecstasies were now the
+same--nothing.
+
+She placed the image before her and rested her chin on one hand, gazing
+at its grotesque and ancient visage.
+
+Her eyes slowly filled with tears. Again she dropped her face on her
+arms and the tears overflowed.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Benton and Bristow had been sitting without speech as their motor
+threaded its way through the traffic along Fourteenth Street, and it was
+not until the chauffeur had turned north on Fifth Avenue that either
+spoke. Then Benton roused himself out of seeming lethargy to inquire
+with suddenness: "Do you remember the bull-fight we saw in Seville?"
+
+His companion looked up, suppressing his surprise at a question so
+irrelevant.
+
+"You mean the Easter Sunday performance," he asked, "when that negligent
+_banderillero_ was gored?"
+
+"Just so," assented Benton. "Do you remember the chap we met afterwards
+at one of the cafés? He was being fêted and flattered for the brilliancy
+of his work in the ring. His name was Blanco."
+
+"Sure I remember him." Van talked glibly, pleased that the conversation
+had turned into channels so impersonal. "He was a fine-looking chap with
+the grace of a Velasquez dancing-girl and the nerve of a bull-terrier.
+I remember he was more like a grandee than a _toreador_. We had him dine
+with us--hard bread--black olives--fish--bad wine--all sorts of native
+truck. For the rest of our stay in Seville he was our inseparable
+companion. Do you remember how the street gamins pointed us out? Why, it
+was like walking down Broadway with your arm linked in that of Jim
+Jeffries!"
+
+He paused, somewhat disconcerted by his companion's steady gaze; then,
+taking a fresh start, he went on, talking fast.
+
+"Besides sticking bulls, he could discuss several topics in several
+languages. I recall that he had been educated for the Church. If he
+hadn't felt the lure of the strenuous life, he might have been
+celebrating Mass instead of playing guide for us. In the end he'd have
+won a cardinal's hat."
+
+The fixity of the other's stare at last chilled and quelled his chatter
+to an embarrassed silence. He realized that the object of his mild
+subterfuge was transparent.
+
+"I'm after his address--not his biography," suggested Benton coolly.
+"His name was Manuel Blanco, wasn't it?"
+
+"Why, yes, I believe it was. What do you want with him?"
+
+"Never mind that," returned his friend. "Do you happen to know where he
+lived? I seem to recall that you promised to write him frequent
+letters."
+
+"By Jove, so I did," acknowledged Van with humility. "I must get busy.
+He is a good sort. His address--" He paused to search through his
+pocket-book for a small tablet dedicated to names and numbers, then
+added: "His address is _Numero 18, Calle Isaac Peral_, Cadiz."
+
+Benton was scribbling the direction on the back of an envelope.
+
+"You needn't grow penitent and start a belated correspondence," he
+suggested. "I am going to write him myself--and I'm going to visit
+him."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+THE TOREADOR APPEARS
+
+
+Slowly, with a gesture almost subconscious, Benton slipped an unopened
+envelope from his breast pocket; turned it over; looked at it and
+slipped it back, still unopened. Then, leaning heavily on his elbow, he
+gazed off, frowning, over the rail of the yacht's forward deck.
+
+The waters that lap the quays and wharves of Old Cadiz, green as jade
+and quiet as farm-yard pools, were darkening into inkiness toward shore.
+White walls that had been like ivory were turning into ashy gray behind
+the _Bateria San Carlos_ and the pillars of the _Entrada_. The molten
+sun was sinking into a rich orange sky beyond the Moorish dome and
+Christian towers of the cathedral.
+
+Shafts of red and green wavered and quaked in the black dock waters.
+
+Between the hulks of cork- and salt-freighters, the steam yacht _Isis_
+slipped with as graceful a motion as that of the gulls. Then when the
+anchor chains ran gratingly out, Benton turned on his heel and went to
+his cabin.
+
+Behind a bolted door he dropped into a chair and sat motionless. Finally
+the right hand wandered mechanically to his breast pocket and brought
+out the envelope. He read for the thousandth time the endorsement in the
+corner.
+
+"Not to be opened until the evening of March 5th," and under that, "I
+love you."
+
+There was another envelope; an outer one much rubbed from the pocket. It
+was directed in her hand and the blurred postmark bore a date in
+February. He could have described every mark upon the enclosing cover
+with the precision of a careful detective. When his impatient fingers
+had first torn off the end, only to be confronted by the order: "Not to
+be opened until the evening of March 5th," he had fallen back on
+studying outward marks and indications. In the first place, it had been
+posted from Puntal, and instead of the familiar violet stamp of
+Maritzburg, with which her other letters had been franked during the two
+months past, this stamp was pink, and its medallion bore the profile of
+Karyl.
+
+That she had left Maritzburg, and that she had written him a message to
+be sealed for a month, meant that the date of March 5th had
+significance. That she was in Galavia meant that the significance
+was--he winced.
+
+On the calendar of a bronze desk-set, the first four days of March were
+already cancelled. Now, taking up a blue pencil, he crossed off the
+number five. After that he looked at his watch. It wanted one minute of
+six. He held the timepiece before him while the second-hand ticked its
+way once around its circle, then with feverish impatience he tore the
+end from the envelope.
+
+Benton's face paled a little as he drew out the many pages covered with
+a woman's handwriting, but there was no one to see that or to notice the
+tremor of his fingers.
+
+For a moment he held the pages off, seeing only the "Dearest" at the
+top, and the wild way the pen had raced, forming almost shapeless
+characters.
+
+"Dearest," she said in part, "I write now because I must turn to
+someone--because my heart must speak or break. All day I must smile as
+befits royalty, and act as befits one whose part is written for her.
+Unless there be an outlet, there must be madness. I have enclosed this
+envelope in another and enjoined you not to read it until March 5th.
+Then it will be too late for you to come to me. If you came to-night,
+you would find me hurrying out to meet you and to surrender. Duty would
+so gladly lay down its arms to Love, dear, and desert the fight.
+
+"To-night I have slipped away from the uniforms, the tawdry mockery of a
+puppet court, to find the pitiful comfort of rehearsing my heart-ache
+to you, who own my heart. In my life here every hour is mapped, and I
+seem to move from cell to cell. So many obsequious jailers who call
+themselves courtiers stand about and seem to watch me, that I feel as if
+I had to ask permission to draw my breath. Out in the narrow streets of
+this little picture town, I see dark-skinned, bare-footed girls. Some of
+them carry skins of wine on their heads. All of them are poor. They also
+are gloriously free. As they pass the palace, they look up enviously,
+and I, from the inside, look out enviously. I know how Richard of the
+Lion Heart felt when he was a prisoner in France, only I have not the
+comfort of a Lion Heart, and it is not written in the book of things
+that you shall pass outside and hear my harp--and rescue me.... One
+little taste of liberty I give myself. It caused a terrible battle at
+first, but I was stubborn and told them that if I was going to be Queen
+I was going to do just what I wanted, and that if they didn't like it,
+they could get some other girl to be Queen, so of course they let me....
+There is an old half-forgotten roadway walled in on both sides that runs
+through the town from this horrible palace to the woods upon the
+mountain. There is some sort of foolish legend that in the old days the
+Kings used to go by this protected road to a high point called Look-out
+Rock, and stand there where they could see pretty much all of this
+miserable little Kingdom and a great deal of the Mediterranean besides.
+No one uses it now except me; but I do as often as I can steal away. I
+dress in old clothes and take the little Inca god with me and no one
+knows us. We slip off among the bowlders and pine trees where the view
+is wonderful, and as his godship presides on a moss-covered rock and I
+sit on the carpet of pine needles, he gives me advice. Somewhere in
+these woods crowds of children live. They are very shy, and for a long
+time looked at me wonderingly from big liquid eyes, but now I have made
+friends with them and they come and sit around me in a circle and make
+me tell them fairy stories....
+
+"Once, dear, I was strong enough to say 'no' to you. Twice I could not
+be."
+
+The reader paused and scowled at the wall with set jaws.
+
+"But when you read this, almost three thousand miles away, there will be
+only a few days between me and (it is hard to say it) the marriage and
+the coronation. He is to be crowned on the same day that we are married.
+Then I suppose I can't even write what is in my heart."
+
+Benton rose and paced the narrow confines of the cabin. Suddenly he
+halted. "Even under sealed orders," he mused slowly, "one may dispose of
+three thousand miles. They, at least, are behind." A countenance
+somewhat drawn schooled its features into normal expressionlessness, as
+a few moments afterward he rose to open the door in response to a
+rapping outside.
+
+As the door swung in a smile came to Benton's face: the first it had
+worn since that night when he had taken leave of Hope.
+
+"You, Blanco!" he exclaimed. "Why, _hombre_, the anchor is scarce down.
+You are prompt!"
+
+The physically superb man who stood at the threshold smiled. The gleam
+of perfect teeth accentuated the swarthy olive of his face and the crisp
+jet of his hair. His brown eyes twinkled good-humoredly. Jaw, neck and
+broad shoulders declared strength, while the slenderness of waist and
+thigh hinted of grace--a hint that every movement vindicated. It was the
+grace of the bull-fighter, to whom awkwardness would mean death.
+
+"I had your letter. It was correctly directed--Manuel Blanco, _Calle
+Isaac Peral_." The Spaniard smiled delightedly. "When one is once more
+to see an old friend, one does not delay. How am I? Ah, it is good of
+the _Señor_ to ask. I do well. I have retired from the _Plaza de Toros_.
+I busy myself with guiding parties of _touristos_ here and abroad--and
+in the collection and sale of antiques. But this time, what is your
+enterprise or pleasure, _Señor_? What do you in Spain?"
+
+"My business in Spain," replied Benton slowly, "is to get out of Spain.
+After that I don't know. Will you go and take chances of anything that
+might befall? I sent for you to ask you whether you have leisure to
+accompany me on an enterprise which may involve danger. It's only fair
+to warn you."
+
+Blanco laughed. "Who reads _mañana_?" he demanded, seating himself on
+the edge of the table, and busying his fingers with the deft rolling of
+a cigarette. "The _toreador_ does not question the Prophets. I am at
+your disposition. But the streets of Cadiz await us. Let us talk of it
+all over the _table d'hôte_."
+
+An hour later found the two in the _Calle Duke de Tetuan_, blazing with
+lights like a jeweler's show-case.
+
+The narrow fissure between its walls was aflow with the evening current
+of promenaders, crowding its scant breadth, and sending up a medley of
+laughter and musical sibilants. Grandees strolled stiffly erect with
+long capes thrown back across their left shoulders to show the brave
+color of velvet linings. Young dandies of army and navy, conscious of
+their multi-colored uniforms, sifted along through the press, toying
+with rigidly-waxed mustaches and regarding the warm beauty of their
+countrywomen through keen, appreciative eyes, not untinged with
+sensuousness. Here and there a common _hombre_ in short jacket, wide,
+low-crowned _sombrero_ and red sash, zig-zagged through the
+pleasure-seekers to cut into a darker side street whence drifted pungent
+whiffs of garlic, black olives and peppers from the stalls of the street
+salad-venders. Occasionally a Moor in fez and wide-bagging trousers,
+passed silently through the volatile chatter, looking on with jet eyes
+and lips drawn down in an impervious dignity.
+
+They found a table in one of the more prominent cafés from which they
+could view through the plate-glass front the parade in the street, as
+well as the groups of coffee-sippers within.
+
+"Yonder," prompted Blanco, indicating with his eyes a near-by group, "he
+with the green-lined cape, is the Duke de Tavira, one of the richest men
+in Spain--it is on his estate that they breed the bulls for the rings of
+Cadiz and Seville. Yonder, quarreling over politics, are newspaper men
+and Republicans. Yonder, artists." He catalogued and assorted for the
+American the personalities about the place, presuming the curiosity
+which should be the tourist's attribute-in-chief.
+
+"And at the large table--yonder under the potted palms, and
+half-screened by the plants--who are they?" questioned Benton
+perfunctorily. "They appear singularly engrossed in their talk."
+
+"Assume to look the other way, _Señor_, so they will not suspect that
+we speak of them," cautioned the Andalusian. "I dare say that if one
+could overhear what they say, he could sell his news at his own price.
+Who knows but they may plan new colors for the map of Southern Europe?"
+
+Benton's gaze wandered over to the table in question, then came
+uninquisitively back to Blanco's impassive face. It took more than
+European politics to distract him.
+
+"International intrigue?" he inquired.
+
+The eyes of the other were idly contemplating the street windows, and as
+he talked he did not turn them toward the men whom he described.
+Occasionally he looked at Benton and then vacantly back to the street
+parade, or the red end of his own cigarette.
+
+"There is a small, and, in itself, an unimportant Kingdom with
+Mediterranean sea-front, called Galavia," said Blanco. Benton's start
+was slight, and his features if they gave a telltale wince at the word
+became instantly casual again in expression. But his interest was no
+longer forced by courtesy. It hung from that moment fixed on the
+narrative.
+
+"Ah, I see the _Señor_ knows of it," interpolated Blanco. "The tall man
+with the extremely pale face and the singularly piercing eye who sits
+facing us,"--Blanco paused,--"is the Duke Louis Delgado. He is the
+nephew of the late King of Galavia, and if--" the Spaniard gave an
+expressive shrug, and watched the smoke ring he had blown widen as it
+floated up toward the ceiling--"if by any chance, or mischance, Prince
+Karyl, who is to be crowned at Puntal three days hence, should be called
+to his reward in heaven, the gentleman who sits there would be crowned
+King of Galavia in his stead."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+OF CERTAIN TRANSPIRINGS AT A CAFÉ TABLE
+
+
+Benton's eyes seemed hypnotically drawn to the table pointed out, but he
+kept them tensely riveted on his coffee cup.
+
+"Yes?" he impatiently prompted.
+
+"Of course," continued Blanco absently, "no one could regret more
+profoundly than the Grand Duke any accident or fatality which might
+befall his royal kinsman, yet even the holy saints cannot prevent evil
+chances!" He paused to sip his coffee. "At the right of 'Louis, the
+Dreamer,' as he is called, sits the Count Borttorff, who is not greatly
+in favor with Prince Karyl. He, too, is a Galavian of noble birth, but
+Paris knows him better than Puntal. He on the left, the man with the
+puffed eyes and the dissipated mouth--you will notice also a scar over
+the left temple--" Blanco was regarding his cigarette tip as he flecked
+an ash to the floor--"is Monsieur Jusseret supposed to be high in the
+affairs of the French _Cabinet Noir_."
+
+"There is one more--and a vacant chair," suggested Benton.
+
+The _toreador_ nodded. "True, I had not forgotten the other. Tall,
+black-haired, not unlike yourself in appearance, _Señor_, save for a
+heavier jaw and the mustache which points upward. He is an Englishman by
+birth, a native of the world by adoption. Once he bore a British army
+commission. Now he is seen in distinguished society"--Blanco
+laughed--"when distinguished society wants something done which clean
+men will not do. His name, just now, is Martin. In many quarters he is
+better known as the English Jackal. Where one sees him one may scent
+conspiracy."
+
+In all the life and color compassed between the four walls of Moorish
+tiles and arches, Benton felt the magnet of the group irresistibly
+drawing his eyes to itself.
+
+"And this gathering about a table for a cup of coffee, in Cadiz--what of
+it?" argued Benton. He tried to speak as if his curiosity were dilute
+and his thoughts west of the Atlantic. "Are they not all known here?"
+
+Again Blanco gave the expressive Spanish shrug.
+
+"Few people here know any of them. I only said, _Señor_, that if any
+chance should cause Galavia to mourn her new King that same chance would
+elevate the tall, pale gentleman from a café table to a throne. I did
+not say that the chance would occur."
+
+"And yet?" urged Benton, his eyes narrowing, "your words seem to hint
+more than they express. What is it, Manuel?"
+
+The Spaniard took a handful of matches from a porcelain receptacle on
+the table. He laid one down.
+
+"Let that match," he smilingly suggested, "stand for the circumstance of
+the Grand Duke leaving Paris for Cadiz which is--well, nearer to
+Puntal--and less observant than Paris." He laid another on the marble
+table-top with its sulphur head close to the first, so that the two
+radiated from a common center like spokes from a hub. "Regard that as a
+coincidence of the arrival of the Count Borttorff from the other
+direction, but at the same time, and at the precise season of the
+coronation and marriage of the King." He looked at the two matches, then
+successively laid down others, all with the heads at the common center.
+"That," he said, "is the joining of the group by the distinguished
+Frenchman--that the presence of the English Jackal--that is the chance
+that runs against any King or Queen of meeting death. That--" he struck
+another match and held it a moment burning in his fingers "--regard
+that, _Señor_, as the flaring up of ambitions that are thwarted by a
+life or two."
+
+He touched the burning match to the grouped tips of sulphur and his
+teeth gleamed white as he contemplated the little spurt of hissing
+flame. Then he dropped his flattened hand upon the tiny eruption and
+extinguished it, as his sudden grin died away to a bored smile.
+
+[Illustration: HIS TEETH GLEAMED WHITE AS HE CONTEMPLATED THE LITTLE
+SPURT OF HISSING FLAME.]
+
+"There, it is over," he yawned, "and of course it may not happen. _Quien
+sabe?_"
+
+"And if they should flare up--" Benton spoke slowly, carefully, "others
+might suffer than the King?"
+
+"How should one say? The King alone would suffice, but Kings are rarely
+found in solitude," reasoned the Andalusian. "For a brief moment Europe
+looks with eyes of interest on the feasting little capital. The King
+will not be alone. No, it must be--so one would surmise--at the
+coronation."
+
+"Good God!" Benton gaspingly breathed the exclamation. "But, man, think
+of it--the women--the children--the utterly innocent people--the Queen!"
+
+The Spaniard leaned back, balancing his chair on two legs, his hands
+spread on the table. "_Si, Señor_, it is regrettable. Yet nothing on
+earth appears so easy to supply as Kings--except Queens. And after all,
+what is it to us--an American millionaire--a Cadiz _toreador_?"
+
+For a moment Benton was silent. When he spoke it was in quick,
+clear-clipped interrogation.
+
+"You know Puntal and Galavia?"
+
+"As I know Spain."
+
+"Manuel, suppose the quaking of a throne _does_ interest me, you will
+go there with me--even though I may lead you where its fall may crush us
+both?"
+
+The Spaniard grinned with a dazzling show of white teeth. His shoulders
+rose and fell in a shrug. "As well a tumbling castle wall as a charging
+bull."
+
+"Good. The first thing is to learn all we can of Louis and his party."
+
+"There is," observed Blanco calmly, "a table on this side also shielded
+by plants. From its angle we can observe,--and be ourselves protected
+from their view. However, we will first go for a stroll in the _calle_
+and return. The change of position will then be less noticeable. Also,
+the _Señor's_ forehead is beaded with moisture. The air of the street
+will be grateful."
+
+As Benton rose he noticed that the Grand Duke was leaning confidentially
+toward the member of the French _Cabinet Noir_.
+
+Fifteen minutes later the two men were ensconced in their more sheltered
+coign, with wine glasses before them, and all the seeming of idle hours
+to kill.
+
+"Is Louis ostensibly a friend of the throne?" demanded the American.
+
+"Professedly, he is, _Señor_. He will write his felicitations when the
+marriage and the crowning occur--he will even send suitable gifts, but
+he will remain at his café here with his absinthe, or in Paris near the
+fair Comptessa Astaride, whom he adores, unless, of course, he goes to
+touch the match."
+
+"Does he never return to Puntal?"
+
+"Once in five years he has been there. Then he went quietly to his
+hunting lodge which is ten miles, as the crow flies from the capital,
+yet barred off by the mountain ridge. It is two days' journey by sea
+from Puntal, and save by the sea one comes only through the mountain
+pass, which is always guarded. Yet on that occasion heliographs reported
+his movements; the King's escort was doubled and the King went little
+abroad."
+
+"Who stands at Louis' back? Revolutionists?"
+
+"_Dios!_ No, _Señor_. The Galavians are cattle. Karyl or Louis, it is
+one to them. Galavia is a key. The key cares not at what porter's belt
+it jingles. Europe cares who opens and closes the lock. _Comprende?_
+Spain cares, France cares, Italy cares, even the Northern nations care.
+The movement of pawns affects castles and kings."
+
+Manuel suddenly halted in his flow of talk. "Blessed Saints!" he
+breathed softly. "When he comes nearer you will see him--the palms
+obscure him now. It is Colonel Von Ritz. He has just entered. He stands
+near Karyl and the throne. He is a great man wasted in a toy kingdom.
+All Europe envies the services which Von Ritz squanders on Galavia."
+
+Benton looked up with a rush of memories, and was glad that the Galavian
+could not see him.
+
+Like all the men concerned, Von Ritz was inconspicuously a civilian in
+dress, but as he came down the center of the room he was, as always, the
+commanding figure, challenging attention. His steady eyes swept the
+place with dispassionate scrutiny. His straight mouth-line betrayed no
+expression. He came slowly, idly, as though looking for someone. When
+still some distance from the table where sat the Duke Louis, he halted
+and their eyes met. Those of the Duke, as he inclined his head slightly,
+stiffly, wore a glint of veiled hostility. Those of Von Ritz, as he
+returned the salute, no whit more cordially, were blank, except that for
+the moment, as he stood regarding the party, his non-committal pupils
+seemed to bore into each face about the table and to catalogue them all
+in an insolent inventory.
+
+Each man in the group uneasily shifted his eyes. Then Karyl's officer
+turned on his heel and left the place. Louis watched him, scowling, and
+as the Colonel passed into the street turned suddenly and spoke in a
+vehement whisper. Jusseret's sardonic lips twisted into a wry smile as
+though in recognition of an adversary's clever check.
+
+The café was now filled. Few tables remained unoccupied, and of these,
+several were near that of the Ducal party.
+
+Blanco rose. "Wait for me, _Señor_," he whispered, then went to the
+front of the café where Benton lost him in a crowd at the door. A moment
+later he came lurching back. His lower lip was stupidly pendent, his
+eyes heavy and dull, and as he floundered about he dropped with the
+aimless air of one heavily intoxicated into a chair by a vacant table
+not more than ten feet distant from that of Louis, the Dreamer.
+
+There he remained huddled in apparent torpor and for some moments
+unobserved, until the Duke signaled to a passing waiter and indicated
+the _toreador_ with a glance. The waiter came over to Blanco. "The
+_Señor_ will find another table," he said with the ingratiating courtesy
+of one paying a compliment. "It is regrettable, but this one is
+reserved." Blanco appeared too stupid to understand, and when finally he
+did grasp the meaning he rose with profuse and clumsy apologies and
+staggered vacantly about in the immediate neighborhood of the conspiring
+coterie. Finally, after receiving further attention and guidance from
+the waiter, he returned to Benton, and dropping into his chair leaned
+over, his white teeth flashing a satisfied smile. "The matches may not
+flare, _Señor_," he said, "but it would appear it was planned. Now
+Martin and Borttorff cannot go to Puntal. Since the brief visit of Von
+Ritz they are branded men. The others are already known to Karyl's
+government."
+
+Benton sat with his brows knitted intently listening.
+
+"Now," went on Blanco, "there is one thing more. They await the man for
+whom they hold the empty chair."
+
+There was a brief silence, then the Spaniard uttered a low exclamation
+of satisfaction. Benton glanced up to see a young man of frank face,
+blond mustache and Paris clothes drop into the vacant place with evident
+apologies for his tardiness.
+
+"Ah," breathed Blanco again, "I feared it would be someone I did not
+know. He is the _Teniente_ Lapas, of Karyl's Palace guard. The
+_pobrecito_! I wonder what post he hopes to adorn at the Court of the
+Pretender."
+
+For a moment the Spaniard looked on with an expression of melancholy
+reflection. "That boy," he said "at last, has the trust and friendship
+of the King. Before him lies every prospect of advancement, yet he has
+been beguiled by the Countess Astaride, and throws himself into a plot
+against Karyl. It is pitiable when one is perfidious so young--and with
+such small cause."
+
+"Who is the Countess Astaride?" inquired the American.
+
+"One of the most beautiful women in Europe, to whom these children are
+playthings. For her there is only Louis Delgado. It is her firing of his
+dreams which makes him aspire to a throne. It is she who has the
+determination. He can see visions of power only in the colors of his
+absinthe glass. She uses men to her ends. Lapas is the latest--unless--"
+Blanco paused--"unless he is playing two parts, and really serves Karyl.
+Come, _Señor_, there is nothing further to interest us here."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE PASSING PRINCESS AND THE MISTAKEN COUNTESS
+
+
+With the sapphire bay of Puntal at his back, his knees clasped between
+interlacing fingers, Benton sat on the stone sea-wall and affected to
+whistle up a lightness of heart. Near at hand sprawled a picturesque
+city, its houses tinted in pea-greens, pinks and soft blues, or as white
+and decorative as though fashioned in icing on a cake.
+
+Clinging steeply to higher levels and leaning on buttressing walls, lay
+outspread vineyards and cane fields and gardens. Splotching the whole
+with imperial and gorgeous purple, hung masses of bougonvillea between
+trellis and masonry. At a more lofty line, where the sub-tropical
+profusion halted in the warning breath of a keener atmosphere, came the
+scrub growth and beyond that, in succeeding altitudes, the pine belt,
+the snow line and the film of trailing cloud on the white peaks.
+
+Out of the center of the color-splashed town rose the square tower of
+the ancient cathedral, white in a coat of plaster for two-thirds of its
+height, but gray at its top in the nakedness of mossy stone.
+
+To its dilapidated clock Benton's eyes traveled repeatedly and anxiously
+while he waited.
+
+From the clock they wandered in turn to the road circling the bay, and
+the cliff at his left, where the jail-like walls of the King's Palace
+rose sheer from the rock, fifty feet above him.
+
+From the direction of the Cathedral drifted fragments of band music, and
+the bugle calls of marching platoons. Everywhere festivity reigned,
+working great profits to the keepers of the wine-shops.
+
+Manuel Blanco turned the corner and Benton slipped quickly down from his
+perch on the wall and fell into step as the other passed.
+
+"It is difficult to learn anything, _Señor_." The Spaniard spoke low as
+he led the way outward from the city.
+
+"Puntal is usually a quiet place and the festivities have made it like a
+child at a _fiesta_. One hears only 'Long live the King--the Queen!'
+There are to be illuminations to-night, and music, and the limit will be
+taken off the roulette wheels at the Strangers' Club. Bah! One could
+have read it in the papers without leaving Cadiz."
+
+"Then you have learned nothing?"
+
+"One thing, yes. An old friend of mine has come for the festivities from
+the Duke's estate. He says the pass is picketed and a guard is posted
+at the Look-out Rock."
+
+"The Look-out Rock?" Benton repeated the words with an inflection of
+inquiry.
+
+"Yes--look above you at the hill whose summit is less high than the
+ridge peaks--there below the snow." Blanco suddenly raised his voice
+from confidential undertone to the sing-song of the professional guide.
+"Yonder," he said, scarcely changing the direction of his pointed
+finger, "is the unfinished sanatorium for consumptives which the Germans
+undertook and left unfinished." Two soldiers were sauntering by, smart
+in newly issued uniforms of tall red caps, dark tunics, sky-blue
+breeches, and polished boots. "That point," went on Blanco, dropping his
+voice again, as they passed out of earshot, "is three thousand, five
+hundred feet above the sea. From the rock by the pines--if you had a
+strong glass, you could see the Galavian flag which flies there--the eye
+sweeps the sea for many empty leagues. One's gaze can also follow the
+gorge where runs the pass through the mountains. Also, to the other
+side, one has an eagle's glimpse of the Grand Duke's hunting lodge.
+There is an observatory just back of the rock and flag. The speck of
+light which you can see, like a splinter of crystal, is its dome, but
+only military astronomers now look through its telescope. There one can
+read the tale of open shutters or barred windows in the house of Louis,
+the Dreamer. You understand?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Now, do you see the thread of broken masonry zig-zagging upward from
+the Palace? That is a walled drive which runs part of the way up to the
+rock. In other days the Kings of Galavia went thus from their castle to
+the point whence they could see the peninsula spread out below like a
+map on the page of a school-book."
+
+"Yes? What else?"
+
+"This. The lodge of the Duke as seen by the telescope sleeps
+shuttered--an expanse of blank walls. Yet the Duke is there!"
+
+"Louis--in Galavia?"
+
+"Wait." Blanco laid his hand on the other's arm and smiled.
+
+"My friend is superstitious--and ignorant. He tells how the Duke has a
+ship's mast with wires on a tower fronting the far side. He says Louis
+talks with the open sea."
+
+"A Marconi mast?"
+
+Manuel nodded.
+
+Benton's eyes narrowed under drawn brows. When he spoke his voice was
+tense.
+
+"In God's name, Manuel," he whispered, "what is the answer?"
+
+The Spaniard met the gaze gravely. "I fancy, _Señor_," he said slowly,
+"the matches will burn."
+
+"When? Where?"
+
+"_Quien sabe?_" Blanco paused to light a cigarette. Two priests, their
+black robes relieved by crimson sashes and stockings, approached, and
+until they were at a safe distance he talked on once more at random with
+the sing-song patter of the guide. "That dungeon-like building is the
+old Fortress _do Freres_. It has clung to that gut of rock out there in
+the bay since the days when the Moors held the Mediterranean. It is said
+that the new King will convert it from a fortress into a prison. It is
+now employed as an arsenal."
+
+Slowly the two men moved back to the busier part of the city. They
+walked in silence until they were swallowed in the crowds drifting near
+the Central Avenue. Finally Blanco leaned forward, moved by the anxious
+face of his companion. "_Mañana, Señor_," he suggested reassuringly.
+"Perhaps we may learn to-morrow."
+
+"And to-morrow may be too late," replied Benton.
+
+"Hardly, _Señor_. The marriage and coronation are the day following. It
+should be one of those occasions." Benton only shuddered.
+
+They swung into the _Ruo Centrale_, between lining sycamores, olive
+trees and acacias, to be engulfed in a jostling press of feast-day
+humanity. Suddenly Benton felt his coat-sleeve tugged.
+
+"Let us stop," Manuel shouted into his ear above the roar of the
+carnival clamor. "The Royal carriage comes."
+
+Between a garden and the pavement ran a stone coping, topped by a tall
+iron grill, and laden with screening vines. The two men mounted this
+masonry and clung to the iron bars, as the crowd was driven back from
+the street by the outriders. Before Benton's eyes the whole mass of
+humanity swam in a blur of confusion and vertigo. The passing files of
+blue and red soldiery seemed wavering figures mounted on reeling horses.
+The King's carriage swung into view and a crescendo of cheering went up
+from the crowd.
+
+Benton saw blurred circles of color whirling dizzily about a steady
+center, and the center was the slender woman at Karyl's side, who was
+the day after to-morrow to become his Queen. He saw the fixed smile with
+which she tried to acknowledge the salutations as the crowd eddied about
+her carriage. Her wide, stricken eyes were shimmery with imprisoned
+tears. To drive through the streets of Puntal with that half-stunned
+misery written clear in lips and eyes, she must, he knew, have reached
+the outmost border of endurance. Karyl bent solicitously forward and
+spoke, and she nodded as if answering in a dream, smiling wanly. It was
+all as some young Queen might have gone to the guillotine rather than to
+her coronation. As she looked bewilderedly from side to side her glance
+fell upon the clustering flowers of the vine. Benton gripped the iron
+bars and groaned, and then her eyes met his. For a moment her pupils
+dilated and one gloved hand convulsively tightened on the paneling of
+the carriage door. The man dropped into the crowd and was swallowed up,
+and he knew by her familiar gesture of brushing something away from her
+temples, that she believed she had seen an image projected from a
+troubled brain.
+
+"Come," he said brokenly to his companion, "for God's sake get me out of
+this crowd."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Strangers' Club of Puntal sits high on a solid wall of rock and
+overlooks the sea. Its beauty is too full of wizardry to seem real, and
+what nature had done in view and sub-tropical luxuriance the syndicate
+which operates the ball rooms, tea gardens, and roulette wheels has
+striven to abet. To-night a moon two-thirds full immersed the grounds in
+a bath of blue and silver, and far off below the cliff wall the
+Mediterranean was phosphorescent. In the room where the _croupiers_ spun
+the wheels, the color scheme was profligate.
+
+Benton idled at one of the tables, his eyes searching the crowd in the
+faint hope of discovering some thread which he might follow up to
+definite conclusion. Beyond the wheel, just at the _croupier's_ elbow,
+stood a woman, audaciously yet charmingly gowned in red, with a
+scale-like shimmer of passementerie. A red rose in her black hair threw
+into conspicuous effect its intense luster.
+
+She might have been the genius of _Rouge et Noir_. Her litheness had the
+panther's sinuous strength. The vivid contrast of olive cheeks, carmine
+lips and dark eyes, gave stress to her slender sensuousness.
+
+Hers was the allurement of poppy and passion-flower. In her movements
+was suggestion of vital feminine force.
+
+Perhaps the incurious glance of the American made itself felt, for as
+she threw down a fresh _louis d'or_, she looked up and their eyes met.
+For an instant her expression was almost that of one who stifles an
+impulse to recognize another. Possibly, thought Benton, she had mistaken
+him for someone else.
+
+"_Mon dieu_," whispered a voice in French, "the Comptessa d'Astaride is
+charming this evening."
+
+"Ah, such wit! Such charm!" enthused another voice at Benton's back.
+"She is most perfect in those gowns of unbroken lines, with a single
+rose." Evidently the men left the tables at once, for Benton heard no
+more. He also turned away a moment later to make way for an Italian in
+whose feverish eyes burned the roulette-lust. He went to the farthest
+end of the gardens, where there was deep shadow, and a seaward outlook
+over the cliff wall. There the glare of electric bulbs and blazing
+doorways was softened, and the orchestra's music was modulated.
+Presently he was startled by a ripple of laughter at his shoulder, low
+and rich in musical vibrance.
+
+"Ah, it is not like this in your gray, fog-wrapped country."
+
+Benton wheeled in astonishment to encounter the dazzling smile of the
+Countess Astaride. She was standing slender as a young girl, all agleam
+in the half-light as though she wore an armor of glowing copper and
+garnets.
+
+"I beg your pardon," stammered the American, but she laid a hand lightly
+on his arm and smilingly shook her head.
+
+"I know, Monsieur Martin, we have not met, but you were with the Duke at
+Cadiz. You have come in his interest. In his cause, I acknowledge no
+conventions." In her voice was the fusing of condescension and regal
+graciousness. "It was wise," she thoughtfully added, "to shave your
+mustache, but even so Von Ritz will know you. You cannot be too
+guarded."
+
+For an instant Benton stood with his hands braced on the coping
+regarding her curiously. Evidently he stood on the verge of some
+revelation, but the rôle in which her palpable mistake cast him was one
+he must play all in the dark.
+
+"You can trust me," she said with an impassioned note but without
+elevating her voice. "I am the Countess--"
+
+"Astaride," finished Benton.
+
+Then he cautiously added the inquiry: "Have you heard the plans that
+were discussed by the Duke, and Jusseret and Borttorff?"
+
+"And yourself and Lieutenant Lapas," she augmented.
+
+"And Lapas and myself," admitted Benton, lying fluently.
+
+"I know only that Louis is to wait at his lodge to hear by wireless
+whether France and Italy will recognize his government," she hastily
+recited; "and that on that signal you and Lapas wait to strike the
+blow."
+
+"Do you know when?" inquired the American, fencing warily in the effort
+to lead her into betrayal of more definite information.
+
+"It must be soon--or never! But tell me, has Louis come? Has he reached
+his hunting lodge? Does he know that guards are at the rock? Do you, or
+Lapas, wait to flash the signal from the look-out? Ah, how my gaze shall
+be bent toward the flag-staff." Then, as her eyes wandered out to sea,
+her voice became soft with dreams. She laughed low and shook her head.
+"Louis, Louis!" she murmured. "When you are King! But tell me--" again
+she was anxious, executive, imperious--"tell me everything!"
+
+Obviously he was mistaken for the English Jackal!
+
+Benton countered anxiously. "Yet, Your Majesty,"--he bent low as he
+anticipated her ambition in bestowing the title--"Your Majesty asks so
+many questions all at once, and we may be interrupted."
+
+Once more she was in a realm of air castles as she leaned on the stone
+coping and gazed off into the moonlight. "It is but the touching of a
+button," she murmured, "and _allons_! In the space of an explosion,
+dynasties change places." Suddenly she stood up. "You are right. We
+cannot talk here. I shall be missed. Take this"--she slipped a seal ring
+from her finger. "Come to me to-morrow morning. I am at the Hôtel de
+France. I shall be ostensibly out, but show the ring and you will be
+admitted. When I am Queen, you shall not go undecorated." She gave his
+hand a warm momentary pressure and was gone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+BENTON MUST DECIDE
+
+
+On the next afternoon at the base of the flag-staff above Look-out Rock,
+Lieutenant Lapas nervously swept the leagues of sea and land, spreading
+under him, with strong glasses. Though the air was somewhat rarer and
+cooler here than below, beads of sweat stood out on his forehead, and
+the cigarettes which he incessantly smoked followed each other with a
+furious haste which denoted mental unrest.
+
+At a sound of foliage rustled aside and a displaced rock bumping down
+the slope, the watcher took the glasses from his eyes with a nervous
+start.
+
+Up the hill from the left climbed an unknown man. His features were
+those of a Spaniard. As the officer's eyes challenged him he halted,
+panting, to mop his brow with the air of one who takes a breathing space
+after violent exertion. The newcomer smiled pleasantly as he leaned
+against a bowlder and genially volunteered: "It is a long journey from
+the shore." Then after a moment he added in a tone of respectful
+inquiry: "You are Lieutenant Lapas?"
+
+The officer had regained his composure. He regarded the other with a
+mild scrutiny touched with superciliousness as he nodded acquiescence
+and in return demanded: "Who are you?"
+
+"Do you see that speck of white down yonder by the sea?" Blanco drew
+close and his outstretched finger pointed a line to the Duke's lodge. "I
+come from there," he explained with concise directness.
+
+The officer bit his lip.
+
+"Why did you come?" The Spaniard paused to roll a cigarette before he
+answered:
+
+"I come from the Duke, of course. Why else should I climb this accursed
+ladder of hills?"
+
+"What Duke?" The interrogation tumbled too eagerly from the soldier's
+lips to be consonant with his wary assumption of innocence. "There are
+so many Dukes. Myself, I serve only the King."
+
+The Spaniard's teeth gleamed, and there was a strangely disarming
+quality in the smile that broke in sudden illumination over his dark
+face.
+
+"I have been here only a few days," explained Blanco. Then, lying with
+apt fluency, he continued: "I have arrived from Cadiz in the service of
+the Grand Duke Louis Delgado, who will soon be His Majesty, Louis of
+Galavia, and I am sent to you as the bearer of his message." He ignored
+the other's protestations of loyalty to the throne as completely as he
+ignored the frightened face of the man who made them.
+
+Lapas had whitened to the lips and now stood hesitant. "I don't
+understand," he stammered.
+
+The Spaniard's expression changed swiftly from good humor to the
+sternness of a taskmaster.
+
+"The Duke is impatient," he asserted, "of delays and misunderstandings
+on the part of his servants. His Grace believed that your memory had
+been well schooled. Louis, the King, may prove forgetful of those who
+are forgetful of Louis, the Duke."
+
+Lapas still stood silent, pitiably unnerved. If the man was Karyl's spy
+an incautious reply might cost him his life. If he was genuinely a
+messenger from the Pretender any hesitation might prove equally fatal.
+
+Time was important. Blanco drew from his pocket a gold seal ring which
+until last night had adorned the finger of the Countess Astaride. Upon
+its shield was the crest of the House of Delgado. At the sight of the
+familiar quarterings, the officer's face became contrite, apologetic,
+but above all immeasurably relieved.
+
+"Caution is so necessary," he explained. "One cannot be too careful. It
+is not for myself alone, but for the Duke also that I must have a care."
+
+Blanco accepted the explanation with a bow, then he spoke energetically
+and rapidly, pressing his advantage before the other's weakness should
+lead him into fresh vacillation.
+
+"The Duke feared that there might be some misunderstanding as to the
+signal and the programme. He wished me to make it clear to you."
+
+Lapas nodded and, turning, led the way through the pine trees to a small
+kiosk that was something between a sentinel box and a signal station
+built against the walls of the old observatory.
+
+"I think I understand," said Lapas, "but I shall be glad to have you
+repeat the Duke's commands and inform me if any changes have been made."
+
+"No, the arrangements stand unaltered," replied the Spaniard. "My
+directions were that you should repeat to me the order of your
+instructions and that I should judge for His Grace whether or not your
+memory is retentive. There must be no hitch."
+
+"I don't know you," demurred Lapas.
+
+"His Grace knows me--and trusts me. That should be sufficient," retorted
+Blanco. "I bring you credentials which you will refuse to recognize at
+your own risk. Unless I were in the confidence of the Duke, I could
+scarcely be here with a knowledge of your plans."
+
+Blanco's eyes blazed in sudden and well simulated wrath. "I have no time
+to waste in argument. Choose quickly. Shall I return to Louis and inform
+him that you refuse to trust those he selects to bear his orders?"
+
+For an instant the Spaniard stood contemptuously regarding the other's
+terror, then with a disgusted exclamation he turned on his heel and
+started to the door of the kiosk. But Lapas was in a moment catching at
+his elbow and protesting himself convinced. He led Blanco back to a
+seat.
+
+"Listen." The Lieutenant sat at the crude table in the center of the
+small room and talked rapidly, as one rehearsing a well-learned lesson.
+
+"The Fortress _do Freres_ is stocked with explosives. Karyl goes there
+with Von Ritz and others of his suite to inspect the place with the view
+of turning it into a prison. The Grand Duke, waiting at his hunting
+lodge, is to receive by wireless the message from Jusseret and
+Borttorff, who convey the verdict of Europe, as to whether or not it is
+decided to recognize his Government. If their message be favorable, he
+will raise the Galavian flag on the west tower of the hunting lodge, and
+I shall relay the message here with the flag at Look-out Point. This
+flag-pole will be the signal to those in the city whose fingers are on
+the key, and whose key will explode the powder in _do Freres_. If the
+flag which now flies from the flag-staff here is still flying when the
+King enters the fortress, the cap will explode. If the flag-staff is
+empty, the King's visit will be uneventful. It will require fifteen
+minutes for the King to go from the Palace to the Fortress. I must not
+remain here--I must be where I can see."
+
+Lapas rose and consulted his watch with nervous haste. "You will excuse
+me?" he added. "I must be at my post. Are you satisfied?"
+
+Blanco also rose, bowing as he drew back the heavy chair he had
+occupied. "I am quite satisfied," he approved. His hands were gripping
+the chairback and when Lapas had taken two paces to the front, and
+Blanco had appraised the distance between, the chair left the floor.
+With the same lightning swiftness of motion that had brought salvos of
+applause from the bull-rings of Cadiz and Seville, he swung it above his
+head and brought down its cumbersome weight in an arc.
+
+Lapas, his eyes fixed on the door, had no hint. A picture of serene sky
+and steady mountains was blotted from his brain. There was blackness
+instead--and unconsciousness.
+
+A bleeding scalp told the _toreador_ that the blow had only cut and
+stunned.
+
+Rapidly he bound and gagged his captive. Dragging him back through the
+narrow room he made certainty doubly sure by tying him to the base of
+the neglected telescope in the abandoned observatory.
+
+A hundred yards below the rock, tucked out of sight of the man at the
+flag-pole, stretched a ledge-like strip of level ground, backed by the
+thick tangle of growth which masked the slope. Beyond its edge of
+roughly blocked and crevassed stone, the gorge fell away a dizzy
+thousand feet. Out of the pines struggled the half-overgrown path where
+once a road had led from the castle. This way the earlier Lords of
+Galavia had come to look across the backbone of the peninsula, to the
+east.
+
+As Benton paced the ledge impatiently, awaiting the outcome of Blanco's
+reconnoiter, he noticed with a nauseating sense of onrushing peril how
+the purpled shadows of the mountains were lengthening across the valley
+and beginning to creep up the other side.
+
+Each time his pacing brought him to the edge of the clearing he paused
+to look down at the sullen walls of Karyl's castle.
+
+A woman, flushed and breathless from the climb, pushed through the scrub
+pines at the path's end and stopped suddenly at the marge of the
+clearing. Her slender girlish figure, clad in corduroy skirt and blue
+jersey, was poised with lance-like straightness, and a grace as free as
+a boy's. Her hands, cased in battered gauntlets, went suddenly to her
+breast, as though she would muffle the palpitant heart beneath the
+jersey. She stood for a moment looking at the man and the ultramarine of
+her eyes clouded slowly into gray. The pink flush of exercise died
+instantly to pallor in her cheeks.
+
+Then the lips overcame an impulse to quiver and spoke slowly in an
+undertone and with marked effort. "This is twice that I have seen you,"
+she whispered, "although you are three thousand miles away."
+
+The man wheeled, not suddenly, but heavily and slowly. "I am real," he
+answered simply.
+
+Cara put out one hand like a sleep-walker, and came forward, still
+incredulous.
+
+"Cara, dearest one!" he said impetuously. "You must have known that I
+would be near you--that I would be standing by, even though I couldn't
+help!"
+
+She shook her head. "I have been having these hallucinations, you know,
+of late." She explained as though to herself. "I guess it's--it's just
+missing people so that does it."
+
+She was close to him now, close, too, to the sheer drop of the cliff,
+walking forward with eyes wide and fixed on his face. He took a quick
+step forward and swept her to him, crushing her against his breast.
+
+She gave a glad exclamation of realization, and her own arms closed
+impulsively around his neck.
+
+"You are real! You are real!" she whispered, looking into his eyes, her
+gauntleted hands holding his face between them.
+
+"Cara," he begged, "listen to me. It's my last plea. You said in the
+letter I have in my pocket--there where your heart is beating--that you
+could not refuse me if I came again. Dear, this is 'again.' The _Isis_
+is a speck out there at sea awaiting a signal. Will you go? I have no
+throne to offer, but--"
+
+"Don't," she cried, holding a hand over his lips. "For a minute--just
+for a little golden minute--let us forget thrones." Then as the furrow
+came back between her brows: "Oh, boy, it's my destiny to be always
+strong enough to resist happiness when I might have it by being less
+strong, and always too weak to bear bravely what must be borne--when it
+can't be helped."
+
+He stood silent.
+
+After a moment she went on. "And I love you. Ah, you know that well
+enough, but up there beyond your head which I love, I see the green and
+white and blue flag of Galavia which I hate, and destiny commands me to
+be disloyal to you for loyalty to it. On the eve of life imprisonment,"
+she went on, clinging to him, "I have stolen away to play truant perhaps
+for the last time--still craving freedom, longing for you; and now I
+find freedom, and you, just to lose you again! I can't--I can't--yes--I
+can--I will!"
+
+Suddenly he held her off at arms' length and looked at her with a
+strange wide-eyed expression of discovery.
+
+"But," he cried with the vehemence of a sudden thought, "you are up
+here--safe! Safe, whatever happens down there! Nothing that occurs there
+can affect you!"
+
+"Safe, of course," she spoke wonderingly. "What danger is there?"
+
+The man turned. "For God's sake--let me think a moment!" He dropped on
+the pine needles and sat with his hands covering his face and his
+fingers pressed into his temples. She came over.
+
+"Does that prevent your thinking?" she softly asked, dropping on her
+knees at his side and letting one hand rest on his shoulder.
+
+For moments, lengthening into minutes, he sat immovable, fighting back
+the agonized and torrential flood of thought which burst upon him with
+unwarned temptation. The danger was not after all a danger to the woman
+he loved, but a menace to his enemy. She was safe three thousand feet
+above the threatening city. He had only to hold his hand, perhaps, for a
+half-hour; had only to keep her here and let matters follow their
+course.
+
+He was not entertaining the thought, except to assure himself that he
+could not entertain it, but it was racking him with its suddenness. The
+King was there--in peril. She was here--safe. Insistently these two
+facts assaulted his brain.
+
+"Pardon, _Señor_." Blanco broke noisily down through the pines and
+halted where the path emerged. For an instant he stood in bewildered
+surprise.
+
+"Pardon, Your Highness--" he exclaimed, bending low; then, quenching the
+recognition in his eyes and assuming mistake, he laughed. "Ah, I ask
+forgiveness, _Señorita_. I mistook you for the Princess. The resemblance
+is strong. I see my error."
+
+"Manuel!" Benton rose unsteadily and stared at the _toreador_ with a
+face pallid as chalk. He spoke wildly, "Quick, Manuel--have you learned
+anything?"
+
+The Spaniard glanced inquiringly at the girl, and as Benton nodded
+reassurance went on in a lowered voice. Only fragments of his speech
+reached Cara's ears. Her own thoughts left her too apathetic to listen.
+
+"The plan is this. It is to happen at the Fortress _do Freres_ this
+afternoon while the King inspects the arsenal. Now, in fifteen minutes!"
+He pointed down toward the city. "See, the cortége leaves the Palace!
+Lapas was to be here at the rock--the blessed Saints help him! He is
+hobbled to his telescope." Swiftly he rehearsed the story as it had come
+from the lips of Lapas.
+
+Benton was studying the Duke's lodge with his glasses. "There is a flag
+flying on the west tower," he muttered.
+
+He turned slowly toward the Princess. Outstanding veins were tracing
+cordlike lines on his temples. His fingers trembled as he focused the
+glasses.
+
+Blanco looked slowly from one to the other. Suddenly he threw back both
+shoulders and his eyes grew bright in full comprehension of the
+situation he had discovered.
+
+"_Señor!_" he whispered.
+
+"Yes?" echoed the American in a dull voice.
+
+"_Señor_--suppose--suppose I have confused the signals?" The tone was
+insinuating.
+
+Benton's mind flashed back to a Sunday School class of his childhood and
+his infantile horror for the tale of a tempter on a high mountain
+offering the possession of all the world if only--if only--
+
+He took a step forward. Speech seemed to choke him.
+
+"In God's name!" he cried, "you have not forgotten?"
+
+The Spaniard slowly shook his head and smiled. The expression gave to
+his face a touch of the sinister. "No--but it is yet possible to forget,
+_Señor_. I serve no King, I serve you. Sometimes a mistake is the truest
+accuracy. _Quien sabe?_"
+
+The Andalusian looked at the girl who stood puzzled and waiting.
+"Sometimes in the _Plaza de Toros, Señor_," he went on, speaking rapidly
+and tensely, "the throngs cry, '_Bravo, matador_!' and toss coins into
+the ring. Yet in a moment the same throngs may shout until their
+throats are hoarse: '_Bravo, toro_!' A King is like a bull in the ring,
+_Señor_--he has a fickle fate. To me he is nothing--if it pleases
+them--it is their King--let them do as they wish." He shrugged his
+shoulders.
+
+Benton straightened. "Manuel," he said with a strained tone, "the flag
+comes down."
+
+The Andalusian smiled regretfully, and once more shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"As you say, _Señor_, but are you sure you wish it so?"
+
+"Manuel, I mean that!" said the American with a steadied voice. "And for
+God's sake, Manuel," he added wildly, "throw the rope over the gorge
+when you have done it!"
+
+For a moment Benton stood rigid, his hands clenched together at his back
+as he watched the quick step of the Andalusian climbing to the
+flag-staff. At last he turned dully and looked down where he could see
+the royal cortége, not yet half-way along the road to the fortress, then
+he went over to the girl's side.
+
+"Cara," he said, "I have earned the right to kiss you good-by."
+
+"It's yours without the earning, but good-by--!" She shuddered. "What
+does it all mean?" she asked in bewilderment. "What was it you
+discussed?"
+
+"Listen," he commanded. "Tell Von Ritz or Karyl that Lapas is a traitor
+and a prisoner in the observatory; that Louis is at his lodge and that
+the Countess Astaride is a conspirator in a plot to assassinate the
+King. Tell them that a percussion cap and key connect the magazines of
+_do Freres_ with the city."
+
+The Princess looked at him with eyes that slowly widened in amazed
+comprehension. "I understand," she whispered. "And the flag--see, it is
+coming down--that means?"
+
+He dropped on one knee and lifted her fingers to his lips. "It means
+that you are to be crowned Queen in Galavia to-morrow," he answered with
+a groan. "Long live the Queen!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+CONCERNING FAREWELLS AND WARNINGS
+
+
+"To-morrow!" repeated the girl with a shudder.
+
+Both stood silent under such a strain as cannot be long sustained. At
+the crunch of branch underfoot and the returning Blanco's, "_Señor!
+Señor!_" both started violently.
+
+"Look, _Señor_," exclaimed the Spaniard. "The King has entered the
+fortress." Then, seeing that the eyes of both man and girl turned at his
+words from an intent gaze, not on the town but the opposite hills, he
+added, half-apologetic: "I shall go, _Señor_, and look to my prisoner.
+If you need me, I shall be there."
+
+With the same stricken misery in her eyes that they had worn as she
+passed in her carriage, Cara remained motionless and silent.
+
+The bottom of the valley grew cloudy with shadow. The sun was kissing
+into rosy pink the snow caps of the western ridge. A cavalcade of
+horsemen emerged at last from _do Freres_ and started at a smart trot
+for the Palace. Cara pointed downward with one tremulous finger. Benton
+nodded.
+
+"Safe," he said, but without enthusiasm.
+
+"I must go." Cara started down the path and the man walked beside her as
+far as the battered gate which hung awry from its broken columns. Over
+it now clambered masses of vine richly purple with bougonvillea. She
+broke off a branch and handed it to him. "Purple," she said again, "is
+the color of mourning and royalty."
+
+Blanco noted the coming of evening and realized that it would be well to
+reach the level of the city before dark. He knew that if Lapas was to be
+turned over to Karyl's authorities, steps to that end should be taken
+before he was discovered and released by those of his own faction. He
+accordingly made his way back to the gate.
+
+Benton was still standing, looking down the alley-way which ran between
+the half ruined lines of masonry. His shoulders unconsciously sagged.
+
+The Spaniard approached quietly and stood for a moment unwilling to
+interrupt, then in a low voice touched with that affectionate note which
+men are not ashamed to show even to other men in the Latin countries, he
+said: "_Señor_ Benton!"
+
+The American turned and put out his hand, grasping that of the
+_toreador_. His grip said what his lips left unworded.
+
+"_Dios mio!_" exclaimed Blanco with a black scowl. "We saved the King,
+but we bought his life and his throne too high! He cost too dear!"
+
+"Blanco," Benton spoke with difficulty, "I have brought you with me and
+you have asked no questions. The story is not mine to tell."
+
+The Andalusian raised a hand in protestation.
+
+"It is not necessary that you tell me anything, _Señor_. I have seen
+enough. And I know the King was not worth the price."
+
+Benton shook his head. "Are you going on with me, now that you know what
+you know?"
+
+"_Señor_, it grieves me that you should ask. I told you I was at your
+disposition." The Spaniard went on talking rapidly, talking with lips
+and eyes and gesture. "When you came to Cadiz and took me with you on
+the small steamer, I did not ask why. I thought it was as Americans are
+interested in all things--or perhaps because the many million _pesetas_
+of the _Señor's_ fortune might be affected by changing the map of
+Europe. No matter. You were interested. It was enough."
+
+He swept both hands apart.
+
+"But had I known then what to-day has taught me, I should have held my
+tongue that evening when the Pretender plotted in the café."
+
+"To-morrow," said Benton slowly, "there will be festivity. I can't be
+here then. I must leave to-night--but you, _amigo mio_, you must stay
+and watch. If Lapas is taken prisoner and silenced there will be no one
+in Puntal who will suspect you. No one knew me and if I leave at once,
+the Countess will hardly learn who was the mysterious man to whom she
+gave a ring."
+
+"But, _Señor_,"--Blanco was dubious--"would it not be better that I
+should be with you?"
+
+"You can serve me better by remaining here. I would rather have you near
+Her."
+
+The man from Cadiz nodded and crossed himself.
+
+"I am pledged, _Señor_," he asserted.
+
+"Then," continued the American, "for a time we must separate. The _Isis_
+will sail to-night."
+
+The men walked together to the terminal station of the small ratchet
+railway. When they parted the Spaniard and the yachtsman had arranged a
+telegraph code which might be used by the small but complete wireless
+equipment of the _Isis_. An hour later the launch from the yacht took
+him aboard at the ancient stone jetty, where the fruit-venders and
+wine-sellers shouted their jargon, and the seaweed clung to the landing
+stage.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When Karyl had returned to the Palace after the inspection of the
+Fortress _do Freres_, he had sent word at once to that part of the
+Palace where Cara had her suite. She was accompanied by her aunt, the
+Duchess of Apsberg, and her English cousin, Lilian Carrowes, who also
+knew something of the life in America with the Bristows.
+
+The King craved an interview. He had not seen her since morning and his
+request conveyed the desolation occasioned by the long interval of empty
+time.
+
+The girl, who in the more informal phases had consistently defied the
+Court etiquette, sent an affirmative reply, and Karyl, still in uniform
+and dust-stained, came at once to the rooms where she was to receive
+him.
+
+There was much to talk of, and the King came forward eagerly, but the
+girl halted his protestations and rapidly sketched for him the summary
+of all she had learned that afternoon.
+
+With growing astonishment Karyl listened, then slowly his brows came
+together in a frown.
+
+It was distasteful to him beyond expression to feel that he owed his
+life and throne to Benton, but of that he said nothing. Lapas had been,
+in the days of his childhood, his playmate. He had been the recipient of
+every possible favor, and Karyl, himself ingenuous and loyal to his
+friends, felt with double bitterness that not only had his enemy saved
+him, but, too, his friend had betrayed him.
+
+Then came a hurried message from Von Ritz, who begged to see the King at
+once. The soldier must have been only a step behind his messenger, for
+hardly had his admittance been ordered when he appeared.
+
+The officer looked from the King to the Princess, and his eyes
+telegraphed a request for a moment of private audience.
+
+"You may as well speak here," said Karyl dryly. "Her Highness knows what
+you are about to say."
+
+"Lieutenant Lapas," began Von Ritz imperturbably, "has not been seen at
+the Palace to-day. His duties required his presence this evening. He was
+to be near Your Majesty at the coronation to-morrow."
+
+"Where is he?" demanded the King.
+
+"That is what I should like to know," replied Von Ritz. "I learn that
+last night the Count Borttorff was in Puntal and that Lapas was with
+him. To-day the Countess Astaride left Puntal, greatly agitated. I am
+informed that from her window she watched _do Freres_ with glasses
+during Your Majesty's visit there, and that when you left she swooned.
+Within ten minutes she was on her way to the quay and boarded the
+out-going steamer for Villefranche. These things may spell grave
+danger."
+
+So rarely had Karyl been able to anticipate Von Ritz in even the
+smallest matter that now, despite his own chagrin, he could not repress
+a cynical smile as he inquired: "What do you make of it?"
+
+Von Ritz shook his head. "I shall report to Your Majesty within an
+hour," he responded.
+
+"That is not necessary," Karyl spoke coolly. "You will, I am informed,
+find Lieutenant Lapas bound to a telescope at the Rock. You will find
+the explosives at _do Freres_ connected with a percussion cap which was
+to have been touched while we were there this afternoon. The Countess
+was disappointed because the percussion cap was not exploded. Sometimes,
+when ladies are bitterly grieved, they swoon."
+
+For a moment the older man studied the younger with an expression of
+surprise, then the sphinx-like gravity returned to his face.
+
+"Your Majesty, may I inquire why the cap failed to explode?" he asked,
+with pardonable curiosity.
+
+"Because"--Karyl's cheeks flushed hotly--"an American gentleman, who had
+been here a few hours, intercepted the signal--and reversed it."
+
+For an instant Von Ritz looked fixedly into the face of the King, then
+he bowed.
+
+"In that case," he commented, "there are various things to be done."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+COUNTESS AND CABINET NOIR JOIN FORCES
+
+
+When Monsieur François Jusseret, the cleverest unattached ambassador of
+France's _Cabinet Noir_, had first met the Countess Astaride, his
+sardonic eyes had twinkled dry appreciation.
+
+This meeting had seemed to be the result of a chance introduction. It
+had in reality been carefully designed by the French manipulator of
+underground wires. Louis Delgado he already knew, and held in contempt,
+yet Louis was the only possible instrument for use in converting certain
+vague possibilities into definite realities. Changing the nebulous into
+the concrete; shifting the dotted line of a frontier from here to there
+on a map; changing the likeness that adorned a coin or postage-stamp:
+these were things to which Monsieur Jusseret lent himself with the same
+zest that actuates the hunting dog and makes his work also his passion.
+
+If the vacillation of Louis Delgado could be complemented by the strong
+ambition of a woman, perhaps he might be almost as serviceable as though
+the strength were inherent. And Paris knew that Louis worshiped at the
+shrine of the Countess Astaride. The Countess was therefore worth
+inspecting.
+
+The presentation occurred in Paris, when the Duke took his acquaintance
+to the charming apartments overlooking the Arc de Triomphe, where the
+lady poured tea for a small _salon_ enlisted from that colony of
+ambitious and broken-hearted men and women who hold fanatically to the
+faith that some throne, occupied by another, should be their own. Here
+with ceremony and stately etiquette foregathered Carlists and
+Bonapartists and exiled Dictators from South America. Here one heard the
+gossip of large conspiracies that come to nothing; of revolutions that
+go no farther than talk.
+
+In Paris the Duke Louis Delgado was nursing, with lukewarm indignation,
+wrath against his royal uncle of Galavia who had fixed upon him a sort
+of modified exile.
+
+Louis had only a languid interest in the feud between his arm of the
+family and the reigning branch. He would willingly enough have taken a
+scepter from the hand of any King-maker who proffered it, but he would
+certainly never, of his own incentive, have struck a blow for a throne.
+
+Sometimes, indeed, as he sat at a café table on the _Champs Elysées_
+when awakening dreams of Spring were in the air and a military band was
+playing in the distance, dormant ambitions awoke. Sometimes when he
+watched the opalescent gleam in his glass as the garçon carefully
+dripped water over absinthe, he would picture himself wresting from the
+incumbent, the Crown of Galavia, and would hear throngs shouting "Long
+live King Louis!" At such moments his stimulated spirit would indulge in
+large visions, and his half-degenerate face would smile through its
+gentle but dissipated languor.
+
+Louis Delgado was a man of inaction. He had that quality of personal
+daring which is not akin to moral resoluteness. He was ready enough at a
+fancied insult to exchange cards and meet his adversary on the field,
+but a throne against which he plotted was as safe, unless threatened by
+outside influences, as a throne may ever be.
+
+When Louis presented Jusseret to the Countess Astaride there flashed
+between the woman of audacious imagination and the master of intrigue a
+message of kinship. The Frenchman bent low over her hand.
+
+"That hand, Madame," he had whispered, "was made to wield a scepter."
+
+The Countess had laughed with the melodious zylophone note that caressed
+the ear, and had flashed on Jusseret her smile which was a magic thing
+of ivory and flesh and sudden sunshine. She had held up the slender
+fingers of the hand he had flattered, possibly a trace pleased with the
+effect of the Duke's latest gift, a huge emerald set about with small
+but remarkably pure brilliants. She had contemplated it, critically, and
+after a brief silence had let her eyes wander from its jewels to the
+Frenchman's face.
+
+"Wielding a scepter, Monsieur," she had suggested smilingly, "is less
+difficult than seizing a scepter. I fear I should need a stronger hand."
+
+"Ah, but Madame," the Frenchman had hastened to protest, "these are the
+days of the deft finger and the deft brain. Even crowns to-day are not
+won in tug-of-war."
+
+The woman had looked at him half-seriously, half-challengingly.
+
+"I am told, Monsieur Jusseret," she said, "that no government in Europe
+has a secret which you do not know. I am told that you have changed a
+crown or two from head to head in your career. Let me see _your_ hand."
+
+Instantly he had held it out. The fastidiously manicured fingers were as
+tapering and white as her own.
+
+"Madame," he observed gravely, "you flatter me. My hand has done
+nothing. But I do not attribute its failure to its lack of brawn."
+
+"Some day," murmured Delgado, from his inert posture in the deep
+cushions of a divan, "when the time is ripe, I shall strike a decisive
+blow for the Throne of Galavia."
+
+Jusseret's lip had half-curled, then swiftly he had turned and flashed a
+look of inquiry upon the woman. Her eyes had been on Louis and she had
+not caught the quick glint that came into the Frenchman's pupils, or the
+thoughtful regard with which he studied her and the Duke across the edge
+of his teacup. Later, when he rose to make his adieux, she noted the
+thoughtful expression on his face.
+
+"Sometimes," he had said enigmatically, and had paused to allow his
+meaning to sink in, "sometimes a scepter stays where it is, not because
+the hand that holds it is strong, but because the outstretched hand is
+weak or inept. Your hand is suited."
+
+She had searched his eyes with her own just long enough to make him feel
+that in the give-and-take of glances hers did not drop or evade, and he,
+trained in the niceties of diplomatic warfare, had caught the message.
+
+So the Countess had been fired with ardent dreams and later, when the
+time seemed ripe, it was to her that Jusseret went, and with her that he
+made his secret alliance.
+
+The ambitions cherished by Marie Astaride to become Louis' queen were
+secondary to a sincere devotion for Louis himself.
+
+When at the last he had weakened and threatened to crumple, it was she
+who goaded him back to resolution. When the Duke had gone half-heartedly
+to his lodge to await the decision of the European Powers, it was she
+who went to Puntal to direct the conspirators and watch, from the
+windows of her hotel suite, the fortress on the jetty.
+
+Her one deplorable error had been in mistaking Benton for Martin. This
+had been natural enough. Though she had never met the "English Jackal,"
+she had once or twice seen him at a distance, and she had been misled by
+a strong resemblance and an excessive eagerness.
+
+The afternoon she had spent on the balcony of her suite, her eyes fixed
+on the Fortress _do Freres_.
+
+At last, with a wildly beating heart she had seen the King, Von Ritz and
+the escort ride up to the entrance and disappear. She had
+waited--waited--waited, her nerves set for the climax, until the
+continued silence seemed an unendurable shock.
+
+Then the King and escort emerged. She, sitting pale and rigid, saw them
+mount and turn back unharmed toward the city. Her ears, eagerly set for
+the detonation which should shake the town and reverberate along the
+mountain sides, ached with the emptiness of silence.
+
+Across the street a soldier, off duty and in civilian clothes, sat on
+the sea-wall and whittled. Incidentally he noticed that Madame the
+Countess was interested beyond the usual in some matter. He was there to
+notice Madame the Countess. His instructions from Von Ritz had been to
+keep a record of her goings and comings, and who came to see her or went
+away.
+
+Therefore, when the King and his small retinue had trotted past the
+window and when Madame the Countess rose to go in, and when just as she
+crossed the low sill of the window she suddenly caught up both hands to
+her throat and fell heavily to the floor, the soldier, whittling a small
+crucifix, made a record of that also. When a moment later a gentleman
+whom he had not seen in Puntal for months, but whom he knew as the Count
+Borttorff, because that gentleman had formerly been Major of his
+battalion, hurriedly left a closed carriage and entered the place, the
+incident was noted. When still later both Borttorff and the Countess
+emerged and reëntered the conveyance, driving rapidly away, he likewise
+noted these things. Going from the pier whither he had followed the
+closed carriage, he reported his observations with soldierly dispatch to
+Colonel Von Ritz.
+
+The Grand Duke Louis meanwhile, waiting in great anxiety, had received
+the message which had come by the wireless mast. The words were in code,
+and being translated they read: "France, Italy, Spain, Portugal will
+recognize. Strike." The signature was "Jt.," which Delgado knew for
+Jusseret. The Duke had been greatly excited. He paced the room in a
+nervous tremor. It was arranged that a small steamer, which had stood a
+short distance offshore since yesterday to relay the wireless message
+and make it doubly sure, should pick the Duke up as soon as Lapas
+signaled by a triple dip of the flag that the fortress had been
+destroyed. The steamer was then to rush the Grand Duke around the cape
+to Puntal, bringing him in as though he had come from Spain. Those
+conspirators who were in the capital, strengthened by those who would
+declare for Louis, with Karyl dead and no other heir existent, would
+proclaim him King. Lapas would see that the royal salute was fired as
+the steamer entered the harbor, and the Countess would either meet him
+and explain all the details or would speak with him by Marconi if she
+had left the town.
+
+Louis spent the forenoon in an agony of anxiety and impatience. All
+afternoon he watched through binoculars the white and blue and green
+flag on the rock above him. He was waiting for the triple dip that
+should tell him the fortress had been scattered in débris and with it
+the government. Evidently the King was late going to the arsenal.
+
+He had imagined it would be earlier. The hours dragged interminably.
+Louis walked the stone buttress where the flag which he had raised in
+signal to Lapas flapped and whipped against its staff. At last his
+binoculars, fixed on the rock, caught the dip of the colors there. With
+a great sigh of relief the Duke watched to see them rise and dip, rise
+and dip again. The flag came down the length of the pole--and did not go
+up.
+
+Panic seized the Pretender. There was no way of talking with the ridge
+three thousand feet above. It was a climb of an hour and a half by the
+pass. Evidently there had been a miscarriage. In the prearranged code of
+flag signals the only provision for the drooping of the colors on the
+hill was in the event that it should be wished to stop the explosion.
+That would be only in the event of refusal by the governments to
+recognize; the governments had not refused! Possibly Lapas had turned
+traitor!
+
+There had also been some unexplained delay seaward. The little steamer,
+which should have remained near by, was a speck on the horizon, and
+without her there was no possibility of escape. Wildly Louis, the
+Dreamer, hurried to his improvised Marconi station and called the ship.
+Finally toward evening came a response and with it a message from
+somewhere out at sea, relayed from ship to ship around the peninsula.
+
+The message said simply in code: "Failure. Make your escape." It was
+signed "M. A."--Marie Astaride.
+
+Louis rushed, panic-stricken, down to the shore. He and the few men with
+him paced the beach in the settling twilight with desperate anxiety. The
+steamer seemed to creep in, snail-like, over the smooth water. Meanwhile
+binoculars fixed on the pass showed a number of small specks sifting
+like ants through the lofty opening. Troops were advancing. It was now
+the life-and-death question of which would arrive first, the boats from
+the ship that had stood off at sea a bit too long, or the soldiers
+coming across the broken backbone of the mountains.
+
+At last the ship had drawn near, and circled under full steam far enough
+out to get away to a flying start as soon as the Ducal party had been
+taken on board. Small boats were rushed toward the beach and Louis, the
+Dreamer, with his party waded knee-deep into the water to meet the
+rescuers.
+
+At the same moment a bugle call announced the coming of Karyl's
+soldiery.
+
+As Louis Delgado went over the side, he turned quickly back and, leaning
+over the rail, gazed through the settling darkness toward shore.
+
+"Do we make for Puntal, Your Majesty?" inquired the captain, saluting.
+
+Louis turned coldly. "No."
+
+The officer looked at the Duke for a moment and read defeat in his eyes.
+
+"Where then--Your Grace?" he inquired.
+
+Louis winced under the quick amendment of title. "Anywhere," he said
+shortly; "anywhere--except Puntal."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+THE TOREADOR BECOMES AMBASSADOR
+
+
+Manuel Blanco was ubiquitous during the first days following the
+coronation. He listened to the fragments of talk that drifted along the
+streets. He frequented the band concerts in the Public Gardens and drank
+native vintages in the wine-shops. He elbowed his way naïvely into
+chattering groups with his ears primed for a careless word. Nowhere did
+he catch a note hinting of intrigue or danger. It seemed a sound
+conclusion that if the plotters had not entirely surrendered their
+project for switching Kings in Galavia, their conspiracies were being
+once more fomented on foreign soil, just as the first plan had been
+incubated in Cadiz.
+
+One evening shortly after the dual celebration, a steamer laden with
+tourists lay at anchor in the bay, outlined in points of light like a
+set-piece of fireworks. Hundreds of new sight-seeing faces swarmed along
+the narrow, cobbled streets. This would be a great night in the
+Strangers' Club and Blanco decided to spend an hour there.
+
+In evening dress he moved through the gardens and pavilions of the
+casino on the rock, where with the coming of darkness the gayety of the
+town began to focus and sparkle.
+
+The coronation of Karyl had brought to an end official mourning for the
+late King, and the crêpe which had palled the national insignia on all
+public buildings had been cleared away. With this restoration of public
+gayety came a liberal sprinkling of uniforms to the throngs that crowded
+the ball-rooms, tea-gardens and gambling halls.
+
+Blanco was standing apart, looking on, when he felt a light touch on his
+shoulder and turned to find a young officer at his back who smilingly
+begged him for a moment in the gardens. The Spaniard noticed that the
+man who addressed him wore the epaulettes of a Captain of Infantry and
+the added stripe and crown of gold lace at the cuff which designated
+service in the household of the reigning family.
+
+He turned and accompanied the officer through the wide door into the
+lantern-hung grounds, passing between the groups which clustered
+everywhere about small wicker tea-tables. There were no quiet or
+secluded spots in the gardens of the Strangers' Club to-night, but after
+a brief glance right and left the Captain led the way to a table in a
+shadowed niche between two doors. The light there was more shadowed and
+the tides of promenaders did not crowd so close upon it as elsewhere. As
+the two came up a third man rose from this table and Manuel found
+himself looking into the flinty eyes of Colonel Von Ritz.
+
+Von Ritz spoke briefly. If _Señor_ Blanco could spare the time, His
+Majesty wished to speak with him.
+
+The younger officer turned back into the casino and Von Ritz led the
+_toreador_ through the front gardens, where the tennis courts lay bare
+between the palms. The acacias and sycamores were soft, dark spots
+against the far-flung procession of the stars.
+
+The street outside was crowded with fiacres and cabs. Von Ritz signaled
+to a footman and in a moment more Blanco and his escort had stepped into
+a closed carriage and were being driven toward the Palace. They entered
+by a side passage and the Colonel conducted him through several halls
+and chambers filled with uniformed officers, and finally into a more
+remote part of the building where they met only an occasional servant.
+At last they came into a great room entirely empty but for themselves.
+About the walls hung ripened portraits. The decorations were of
+Arabesque mosaics with fantastic panels of Moorish tiling. It might have
+been a grandee's house in Seville, patterned on the Alcazar. Evidently
+this was part of a private suite. Heavy portières were only partly drawn
+across a wide window with the sill at the floor level, and through them
+Blanco dimly saw a balcony giving out over a small garden, and
+commanding more distantly the harbor and town lights below. From
+somewhere in the garden came the splashing of a small fountain.
+
+Here Von Ritz left his charge to himself, silently departing with a bow.
+For a while the Spaniard remained alone. The room was not so brightly
+illuminated as many through which he had come on his way across the
+Palace. Light filtered through swinging lamps of wrought metal encrusted
+with prisms of green and amber and garnet. The Moorish scheme depends in
+part upon its shadows. Finally a gentleman entered from a balcony. He
+was neither in uniform nor in evening dress. His face was smooth-shaven
+and pleasing.
+
+Blanco fancied this was a secretary or attendant of some sort, and was
+conscious of slight surprise that as he entered the place he smoked a
+cigarette with a freedom scarcely fitting the King's personal chambers.
+At the window the gentleman halted and looked Blanco over with a frank
+but not offensive curiosity. Manuel returned the gaze, wondering where
+he had seen the face before, yet unable to identify it. Then the
+newcomer crossed and proffered the Spaniard a cigarette from a gold
+case, which the _toreador_ declined with a shake of his head.
+
+"_Gracias, Señor_," he said, "but I am waiting for the King."
+
+The other smiled, and the visitor noticed that even in smiling his lips
+fell into lines of sadness.
+
+"None the less," he said pleasantly, "a man may as well have the solace
+of tobacco while he waits--even though he awaits a King."
+
+The Andalusian once more shook his head, and the other continued to
+study him with that undisguised interest which his eyes had worn from
+the first.
+
+"So you are one of the two men," he said, "who learned what all the
+secret agents of the Throne failed to unearth. Incidentally it is to you
+that the present King owes not only his Crown, but his life as well." He
+paused.
+
+"After all," he went on, "it is neither your fault nor Mr. Benton's that
+the King could have done very well without either the Crown or his life.
+You restored something which perhaps he held worthless.... But that is
+his own misfortune."
+
+Blanco's expressive face mirrored a shade of resentment. He had come on
+summons from the King and found himself listening to the familiar, even
+disrespectful, chatter of some underling who laughed at his Monarch and
+lightly appraised the value of his life while he smoked cigarettes in
+the Royal apartments. The Spaniard bowed stiffly.
+
+"I observe you are in the confidence of the King," he said, in a tone
+not untouched with disapproval.
+
+The other man's lips curled in amusement. After a moment he replied with
+simple gravity.
+
+"I am the King."
+
+Blanco stood gazing in astonishment. "You--the King!" Then, recognizing
+that the shaving of a mustache and the change into civilian clothes had
+made the difference in a face and figure he had seen only on the streets
+and through shifting crowds, he bowed with belated deference.
+
+Karyl once more held out his case. "Now perhaps you will have a
+cigarette?"
+
+The _toreador_ took one and lighted it slowly. The King went on.
+
+"My sole pleasure is pretending that I am not a Monarch. Between
+ourselves, I should prefer other employment. You, for example, I am told
+have won fame in the bull ring--and it was fame you earned for
+yourself."
+
+Blanco flushed, then, bethinking himself of the fact that he had been
+brought here presumably with a purpose, he ventured to suggest: "Your
+Majesty wished to see me about some matter?"
+
+The other shook his head.
+
+"No," he said slowly, "it was not really I who sent for you. It was Her
+Majesty, the Queen."
+
+Before he had time for response the _toreador_ caught the sound of a
+shaken curtain behind him, but since he stood facing the King he did not
+turn.
+
+Karyl, however, looked up, and then swiftly crossed the room. As he
+passed, Blanco wheeled to face him and was in time to see him holding
+back the portières of a door for the Queen to enter.
+
+She was gowned in black with the sparkle of passementerie and jet, and
+at her breast she wore a single red rose. As she stood for a moment on
+the threshold, despite the majesty of her slender poise it appeared to
+Blanco that her grace was rather that of something wild and free and
+that the Palace seemed to cage her. But that may have been because, as
+she paused, her hands went to her breast and a furrow came between her
+brows, while the corners of her lips drooped wistfully like a child's.
+
+The King stooped to kiss her hand, and she turned toward him with a
+smile which was pallid and which did not dissipate the unhappiness of
+her face. Then Karyl straightened and said to Blanco, who felt himself
+suddenly grow awkward as a muleteer: "The Queen."
+
+Manuel dropped on one knee. At a gesture from Cara he rose and waited
+for her to speak. Karyl himself halted at the door for a moment, then
+came slowly back into the room. He picked up from a tabouret a
+decoration of the Star of Galavia, and, crossing over, pinned it to the
+Spaniard's lapel.
+
+"There!" he said, with a good-humored laugh. "You made me a somewhat
+valueless present a few days back. You will find that equally useless,
+Sir Manuel. You may tell Mr. Benton that I envy him such an ally."
+
+With a bow to the Queen, the King left the apartment.
+
+For a moment the girl stood at the door, with the same expression and
+the same silence, unbroken by her since her entrance, then she turned to
+the Spaniard and spoke directly. Her voice held a tremor.
+
+"How is he?"
+
+"I have not seen him since the day on the mountain," returned Manuel.
+
+"He has, in you, a very true friend."
+
+"Your Majesty, I am his servant," deprecated the toreador.
+
+"If I had friends like you," she smiled, "it would matter little what
+they called themselves. And yet, if there is but one like you, I had
+rather that that one be with him. I want you to go to him now and remain
+with him."
+
+"Your Majesty, _Señor_ Benton left me here to watch for recurring
+dangers. I am now satisfied that nothing threatens, at least for the
+present. I might, as Your Majesty suggests, better be with him."
+
+"Yes--yes--with him!" she eagerly agreed; then her voice took on the
+timbre of anxiety. "I am afraid. Sometimes I am afraid for him. He is
+not a coward, but there are times when we all become weak. I appoint
+you, Sir Manuel--" the girl smiled wanly--"I appoint you my Ambassador
+to be with him and watch after him--and, Sir Manuel--" her voice shook a
+little with very deep feeling--"I am giving you the office I had rather
+have than all the thrones in Christendom! Will you accept it?"
+
+She held out her hand, and taking it reverently in his own, the
+Andalusian bowed low over it. He did not kneel, for now he was the
+Ambassador in the presence of his Sovereign. "With all the Saints for my
+witnesses," he declared fervently, "I swear it to Your Majesty."
+
+There was gratitude in her eyes as they met the whole-heartedness of the
+pledge in his. For a moment she seemed unable to speak, though there was
+no dimness of tear-mist in her pupils. She stood very upright and
+silent, and her breathing was deep. Then slowly her hands came up and
+loosened the flower at her breast.
+
+"The King has decorated you, Sir Manuel," she said. "I don't think Mr.
+Benton would care for knighthood--and I could not confer it--but
+sometime--not now--some day after you have both departed from Galavia,
+give him this. Tell him it may have a message which I may not put in
+words. If he can read the heart of a rose deeply enough, perhaps he can
+find it there."
+
+When Blanco had carefully folded the emblem of his embassy in paper and
+deposited it in his breast pocket, she gave him her hand again, and,
+turning, went out through the same door that she had entered.
+
+Back in the town, Blanco had certain investigations to make. He knew Von
+Ritz's men had been too late to capture the Duke, and that the Countess
+Astaride had sailed by the steamer leaving for French and Italian ports.
+Wherever these two conspirators should meet would become the next point
+to watch.
+
+Blanco felt sure that Louis would be willing to drop back into the
+routine of his life in Paris, freshly stocked with pessimistic memories
+of how a crown had slipped through his fingers. It would take driving to
+prevent him lagging into the inertia of sentimental brooding. On the
+other hand, he knew that the Countess Astaride, having gone so far,
+would never again relinquish her ambitions. He knew the temper of the
+Countess's mind from various bits of gossip he had heard and now also
+from what he had seen. He knew that, while she was entirely willing to
+participate in a murder plot to further her designs, she was not fired
+solely by a lust for power. More deeply she was actuated by her wish to
+make Louis Delgado a man of potentiality because she loved Louis
+Delgado.
+
+That love might evidence itself in savagery toward men who obstructed
+the road which her lover must travel to a crown, but it was a ferocity
+born of love for the Pretender.
+
+Since this was true it was not probable that she would allow the matter
+to end where it stood. Even if she were willing, it was more than
+certain that Jusseret had not entered into the undertaking without some
+sufficient end in view. Having entered it, he would not relinquish it
+because the first attempt had been bungled.
+
+That same night Manuel sent a message to the _Isis_, saying that he was
+sailing the following morning by the Genoa steamer and asking that the
+yacht meet the ship and take him on board. Having done that much, he
+went to the hotel where the Countess had stopped and told the clerk that
+he had news of importance to communicate to Madame the Countess, and
+that he wished to learn her present address. The clerk, like all Puntal,
+was ignorant of what important matters had just missed happening, but he
+had instructions from this lady to assume ignorance as to her
+destination. Blanco, however, showed the seal ring which she had said
+would prove a passport to her presence and which Benton had left with
+him. He was promptly informed that she had taken passage for
+Villefranche, and had ordered her mail forwarded there in care of the
+steamship agency.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+THE AMBASSADOR BECOMES ADMIRAL
+
+
+More suggestive of a stowaway than a millionaire, thought Blanco the
+following afternoon, when he had come over the side of the _Isis_ and
+sought out the owner of the yacht. Benton had turned hermit and
+withdrawn to the most isolated space the vessel provided. It was really
+not a deck at all--only a space between engine-room grating and
+tarpaulined lifeboats on what was properly the cabin roof. Here, removed
+from the burnished and ship-shape perfection of the yacht's appointment,
+he lay carelessly shaven and more carelessly dressed.
+
+The lazily undulating Mediterranean stretched unbroken save for the
+yacht's stack, funnels and stanchions, in a sight-wide radius of blue.
+Overhead the sky was serene. Here and there, in fitful humors, the sea
+flowed in rifts of a different hue.
+
+The sun was mellow and the breeze which purred softly in the cables
+overhead came with the caressing breath that blows off the orange groves
+of Southern Spain. Ahead lay all the invitation of the south of France;
+of the Riviera's white cities and vivid countryside; of Monte Carlo's
+casinos and Italy's villas. Beyond further horizons, waited the charm of
+Greece, but the man lay on an old army blanket, clad in bagging flannels
+and a blue army shirt open at the throat. His arms were crossed above
+his eyes, and he was motionless, except that the fingers which gripped
+his elbows sometimes clenched themselves and the bare throat above the
+open collar occasionally worked spasmodically.
+
+Blanco had come quietly, and his canvas shoes had made no sound. For a
+time he did not announce himself. He was not sure that Benton was awake,
+so he dropped noiselessly to the deck and sat with his hands clasped
+about his knees, his eyes moodily measuring the rise and fall of the
+glaringly white stanchions above and below the sky-line. At frequent
+intervals they swept back to the other man, who still lay motionless. It
+was late afternoon and the smoke-stack shadows pointed off in attenuated
+lines to the bow while the sky, off behind the wake, brightened into the
+colors of sunset. Finally Benton rose. The unexpected sight of Blanco
+brought a start and an immediate masking of his face, but in the first
+momentary glimpse the Andalusian caught a haggard distress which
+frightened him.
+
+"I didn't know you had come," said Benton quietly. "How long have you
+been here?"
+
+"I should say a half-hour, _Señor_," replied Manuel, casually rolling a
+cigarette.
+
+"Why didn't you rouse me? I'm not very amusing, but even I could have
+relieved the dullness of sitting there like a marooned man on a
+derelict."
+
+"Dullness?" inquired the _toreador_ with a lazy lift of the brows. "It
+is ease, _Señor_, and ease is desirable--at sea."
+
+The American sat cross-legged on the deck and held out his hand for a
+cigarette. When he asked a question he spoke in matter-of-fact tones. He
+even laughed, and the Andalusian chatted on in kind, but secretly and
+narrowly he was watching the other, and when he had finished his
+scrutiny he told himself that Benton had been indulging in the dangerous
+pastime of brooding.
+
+"Tell me--everything," urged the yacht-owner. "What are the
+revolutionists doing and how is--how are things?" Carefully he avoided
+directing any question to the point on which his eagerness for news was
+poignant hunger.
+
+When Blanco told how Louis had left Galavia just before the soldiers
+reached the lodge, Benton's face darkened. "That was fatal blundering,"
+he complained. "So long as Delgado is at large the Palace is menaced.
+If they had taken him, and held him under surveillance, the _Cabinet
+Noir_ would be disarmed. Now they will try again."
+
+Blanco nodded.
+
+"There is no charge they can make against him," he mused. "They cannot
+bring him back because the government cannot admit its peril. Outwardly
+his bill of health is clean. Assuredly when they let him slip, _Señor_,
+they committed a grave error."
+
+Benton rose and paced the deck in deep reflection. At last he halted and
+spread his hands in a gesture half-despairing.
+
+"My God!" he said in a low voice. "The anxiety will drive me mad! You
+saw their methods. An entire cortége was to be blown into the air--just
+to kill Karyl. Next time, what will they attempt?" He broke off with a
+shudder.
+
+"I have seen the Queen," said Blanco slowly.
+
+Benton wheeled. For an instant his face lighted, then he leaned forward.
+He said nothing, but his whole attitude was a question.
+
+"You behold in me, Sir Manuel Blanco," began the Andalusian grandly.
+Then, slipping his arm through that of the other man, he began leading
+him around the deck. When he had finished his narrative, he said: "I
+begin my office as Ambassador by delivering this packet." From his
+pocket he produced the paper-wrapped rose. "I was instructed to give it
+to you at some future time. Possibly, _Señor_, I am over-prompt. Lawyers
+and diplomats should be deliberate."
+
+The Mediterranean day had died slowly from east to west while the men
+had talked, and the last shred of glowing sky was darkening into the sea
+at the edge of the world astern, when Benton greedily thrust out his
+hand for the packet.
+
+"_Gracias_," he said bluntly, and turning away went precipitously to his
+cabin.
+
+After dinner, when the Captain had betaken himself to the bridge and the
+smoke from the Spaniard's cigarettes and Benton's pipe had begun to
+wreathe clouds against the ceiling-beams, Blanco broached his diplomacy.
+
+In the dulled expressionlessness of the face opposite him and the stoop
+of the shoulders, Manuel read a need for an active antidote against the
+corrosive poison of despair.
+
+"Where are we going now, _Señor_?"
+
+Benton shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"'_Quien sabe!_' as you say in Spain. We are simply cruising, drifting,
+keeping out of sight of land."
+
+"And drifting is the precise thing, _Señor_, which we must not do. I
+have hitherto done without question what you have said. Now I hold a
+new dignity." There was a momentary flash of teeth as he smiled. "As
+Ambassador, I make a request. May I be permitted to take entire control
+of affairs for a brief time? Also, will you for a few days obey _my_
+instructions, without question?"
+
+Benton looked across the table at the dark face half-obscured behind a
+blue fog of cigarette smoke. After a moment he smiled.
+
+"Admiral," he said, "issue your orders."
+
+"You will instruct the Captain," said Manuel promptly, "to head at once
+for Villefranche. There you, _Señor_, will leave the yacht, and I will
+go with it to Monte Carlo. I wish to be as soon as possible in the
+casino where the drone of the _croupier_ and the clink of outflowing
+_louis d'or_ constitute the national refrain."
+
+Benton's eyes narrowed in perplexity. On his face was written curiosity,
+but he had agreed to ask no questions. He unhesitatingly put his finger
+on the electric bell.
+
+"Ask the Captain to come here as soon as he is at leisure," he directed
+when the steward had responded to the call.
+
+"Good," commended Blanco. Then with a sorrowful shake of his head he
+commiserated: "I am sorry that you are to be denied the excitement of
+the _rouge et noir_ and the _trente et quarente_ of the gold table,
+_Señor_, but if the Countess Astaride and Louis should meet there, the
+lady would know you. I fancy that she will not again mistake you for
+someone else. As for myself, neither of them yet knows me."
+
+"Are they at Monte Carlo?" Benton sat suddenly upright, and Blanco had
+the first reward of his diplomacy, as he noted the quickening interest
+in the questioning eyes.
+
+"I am only guessing, _Señor_. If the guess is good, I may learn
+something. What is in my mind, may fail. If you are willing to trust me
+I would rather not reveal it now."
+
+"And I?" questioned Benton. "Have I any part to play in this, or do you
+go it alone?"
+
+Blanco leaned forward.
+
+"It may be necessary to have someone near enough to the Palace in Puntal
+to insure immediate action--action to be taken on the instant.... You
+must return to the city, _Señor_.... It will be for only a few days. The
+Grand Palace Hotel is above the town in large gardens.... If you choose
+you can remain there with your presence absolutely unknown, so far as
+the city proper is concerned. Also, the Marconi office has a station in
+the hotel grounds. With a code which we have yet to arrange, I can keep
+in touch with you...."
+
+The next day Benton was a passenger by steamer from Villefranche to
+Puntal.
+
+The Grand Palace Hotel, dominating its own acres of subtropical gardens,
+looks down on the city as one seated on an eminence commands the common
+things at his feet. Between its grounds and the scalloped bay, run the
+huddled habitations of the town's water-front, with its delicately
+tinted walls and riotously colored gardens invading every crevice.
+
+Following the semicircle of the bay, the eye commands that other
+eminence where the King's Palace shuts itself in austerely at the very
+center of the arc. Through the clustered, tea-sipping loungers on the
+galleries and terraces Benton made his way several days later, wearing
+the studiously affected unconcern of the tourist; an unconcern which he
+found it desperately difficult to assume in Puntal.
+
+Driven by a growing and intense desire to put distance between himself
+and all alien humanity, he turned into a narrow, steeply climbing street
+which ran twisting between toy-houses and vine-cumbered garden-walls,
+until at last it lost its right to be called a street and became merely
+a narrow, trail-like path up the mountain-side. The wanderer climbed
+interminably. He took no thought of destination and satisfied himself
+with the physical exertion of the laborious going.
+
+His heart pounded faster as he attained the altitude of the pine woods
+where he seemed to have left humanity behind him. Once or twice he saw a
+shy, half-wild child who fled from its task of gathering fagots at his
+approach, to gaze at him out of startled eyes from a safe distance.
+
+Occasionally he would stop to look down, from some coign of vantage, at
+cascading threads of water tumbling into the gorge below, or at a
+châlet-like house perched far beneath in its trim patch of agriculture.
+Finally he stretched himself indolently on a carpet of pine needles at
+the brink of a drop to the valley. Then, with a sense of recognition, he
+saw the tumbled-down gate of the King's driveway below him to the left,
+and his face became set and miserable as memory began its work of
+tearing open wounds not yet old.
+
+Suddenly there drifted up a chorus of children's laughter. He sat up
+suddenly and looked about, but no one was in sight. Again he heard an
+unmistakable peal of shrill, childish merriment, seemingly close at
+hand. He lay flat and looked over the ledge, holding on to a root of a
+gnarled pine that grew far out at the marge.
+
+Under him, not more than twenty yards below, on a similar natural
+platform, sat a circle of peasant children, their eyes large with
+wonderment and interest. In their center, also seated on the earth, was
+the Queen of Galavia. She was dressed in a short walking skirt and a
+blue jersey, and as the man gripped the pine root to which he held, and
+gazed over, she lifted an outstretched finger of a gauntleted hand in
+illustration of some particularly wonderful point of what was palpably a
+particularly wonderful fairy story. A third burst of delight came from
+the listening and responsive auditors, who had no idea by whom they were
+being entertained.
+
+The peasants of Galavia speak Portuguese. As Benton shifted his position
+so that he could eavesdrop without being discovered, he found that he
+could catch some of the words.
+
+"Tell us another story--" piped a high treble voice, "--a story about
+the beautiful Princess who married the King." The demand was seconded by
+an immediate clamor of eager voices.
+
+The girl rose unsteadily and shook her head. For a moment she stood
+looking off over the miles of sea with her hands at her breast and her
+eyes clouded, oblivious of the small companions of her truancy. She
+stretched out both strong young arms toward the Mediterranean.
+
+Then she heeded the children's clamor again and, turning to them, she
+laughed.
+
+"No, no!" she teasingly answered, and the man above realized for the
+first time that Portuguese is a tongue of liquid music. "These are fairy
+stories without Princesses. These are perfectly good fairy stories, you
+know." Then with a sudden burst of confidence, "In really-truly life,
+Princesses are not much good. Don't any of you ever be a Princess if you
+can help it!" After planting this seed of treasonable ideas she turned
+away, adding: "No, no, no! I've run away and I must go back. To-morrow
+we will have a wonderful story--but no more to-day."
+
+Slowly she made her way down to the old gate, stopping twice to look out
+to the sea, and above her, choking off the shout that clamored at his
+lips, the man sat motionless and gave no intimation of his presence.
+
+Finally he rose and made his way unsteadily back to the city. He walked
+slowly down between the wine-shops, noisy with laughter, to the road
+along the bay. Immersed in reflection and forgetful of his resolution to
+keep as much as possible out of sight, he went openly and conspicuously
+along the street that overhangs the water, where at sunset all Puntal
+promenades. It was only when a detachment of soldiers in the familiar
+opera-bouffe uniform went clanking by to change the guard at the Palace
+gates that he remembered he was to have remained inconspicuous. With a
+sense of chagrin for his indiscretion, he turned into a side street
+which sloped upward toward his hotel. This street was so little used
+that between its cobble stones tender sprigs of grass made the way as
+green as a turf course.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+BENTON CALLS ON THE KING
+
+
+There were several things to harrow Benton's thoughts aside from the
+ingenious tortures of memory. Blanco should have arrived at Monte Carlo
+on the day of their separation. Benton himself had proceeded slowly to
+Puntal and had now been an isolated guest at the Grand Palace Hotel for
+two days, yet he had heard nothing from Manuel. Still the man from Cadiz
+had not been idly cruising. The _Isis_ had duly dropped her anchor in
+the ultramarine waters where the rock of Monaco juts out like a
+beckoning finger, and Monte Carlo spreads the marble display of its
+rococo façades at the feet of the Maritime Alps.
+
+That night, in the most detailed perfection of evening dress, he
+wandered good-humoredly, yet aloof, through the crowds. He haunted the
+groups that swarmed about the busy wheels in the casino. He mingled with
+the diners upon the terraces of the principal hotels. He brushed elbows
+with the strollers along the promenade and about the _Cercle des
+Etrangers_, and all the while his studiously alert eyes wandered with
+seeming vacancy of expression over the faces of the men and women whom
+he passed.
+
+Safe in the surety of being himself unknown, he trained his countenance
+into the ennui of one who has no object beyond killing the hour and
+contributing his quota to the income of the syndicate.
+
+The evening was wasted, together with a few _louis_, and the next
+morning found the Spaniard scrutinizing every face along the _Promenade
+des Anglais_ at Nice. Then he searched Cannes and Mentone, but by
+evening he was back again in the sacred City of Black and Red.
+
+As he disembarked from the yacht's launch and came up the white stairs
+to the landing-stage, his eyes were still indolently wandering, but
+before he reached the level of the _Boulevard de la Condamine_, the
+expression changed with the suddenness of discovery into a glint almost
+triumphant. It was only with strong effort that he banished the
+satisfied light from his pupils and forced them to wander absently
+again, along the glitter and color of the palm-lined promenade.
+
+For Manuel had seen a slender, well-groomed figure leaning on the coping
+of the sea-wall and gazing out with obvious amusement on the life of the
+harbor. Although the Spaniard did not allow himself a second glance, he
+knew that his search was ended. The attention of the man above was
+dreamily fixed on the bay where a dozen darting motor-boats cut swift
+courses hither and thither. His attitude was graceful. His bearing might
+have been almost noble except for a deplorable lack of frankness which
+spoiled otherwise fine eyes, and a self-indulgent weakness which marred
+the angle of the chin.
+
+The Bay at Monte Carlo is a haven for luxurious craft. Now the Prince of
+Monaco's yacht lay at anchor and several others, hardly less handsome,
+rode snugly offshore, but with the enthusiasm of a connoisseur the tall
+gentleman disregarded all the rest and let his admiring gaze dwell on
+the _Isis_.
+
+The face was studiously altered. Where there had been a full mustache
+there was now only a thinly clipped line, waxed and uptilting in needle
+points. It had been dark brown. Now it was black. The hair formerly
+brushed straight back from the forehead now showed beneath the hat-band.
+The Van Dyke which had masked the receding tendency of the chin was
+shaven away. Evidently the gentleman wished to present a changed
+appearance to the world, but the visionary eyes were unmistakably those
+of Louis, the Dreamer, and in lapses of thought the fingers of the right
+hand nervously twisted and untwisted, after the manner of an old
+personal trick.
+
+As Blanco came up the stairs he brushed clumsily against the stranger
+and paused to apologize.
+
+"I am inexcusably awkward," he avowed with engaging contriteness.
+
+The Duke protested that it was not worth mention, and added with a
+smile, "I noticed that you came from that yacht. I think she is one of
+the most beautiful little vessels I have ever seen."
+
+"Thank you, Monsieur." Blanco was apparently much flattered. "She is
+American built, and has some appointments which I have not seen
+elsewhere." Then smilingly, but in hot haste, he rushed away.
+
+During the course of the evening the Andalusian contrived to throw
+himself repeatedly across the Duke's path. On each occasion he appeared
+to be in great haste and under the necessity of immediate departure,
+though he never left without a cordial word of recognition. He played
+his game so adroitly that at the end of the evening the Duke felt as
+though he and the stranger from the American-built yacht were old and
+pleasant acquaintances.
+
+It was as they stood watching the stiffer gambling of the elect in the
+upper room of the Casino, after the wheels below had ceased to spin,
+that the tall gentleman turned to Blanco.
+
+"How do you say? Would a cup of coffee or a glass of wine go amiss?"
+
+Without a trace of eagerness, the Andalusian assented and a few minutes
+later he found himself across a café table at the Nouvel Hôtel de
+Paris; listening to Louis, the Dreamer's soft voice, and watching the
+slender fingers which nervously toyed with a Sévres cup.
+
+"She is extremely beautiful in her lines," Louis was declaring. "I am
+fond of yachts that are properly built. I am planning one myself, and
+each new vessel holds for me a fresh interest."
+
+"Ah, indeed!" The Spaniard was delighted. "Then we have fallen upon a
+common enthusiasm. I am never so happy as when talking to a keen
+yachtsman." Yet so long as the conversation threatened those nautical
+technicalities in which he was utterly deficient, he managed to let the
+other do the talking.
+
+Manuel at last set down his cup and, looking up with a flash, as of
+sudden inspiration, suggested: "But doubtless you will be stopping in
+Monte Carlo a day or two? Possibly you will do me the honor of
+inspecting the boat?"
+
+The other protested that his friend was too good. He regarded himself
+highly honored. He would be most charmed. But apparently the idea was
+developing and Blanco was conceiving even more extended notions of
+hospitality.
+
+"Stay!" he suddenly exclaimed. "Why not breakfast with me, on board,
+to-morrow at twelve? The launch will be at the landing at eleven
+forty-five. I could take you cruising for a few knots, and let you test
+her sailing qualities, returning in abundant time for dinner and the
+amusements of the evening."
+
+Louis gave the matter a moment's reflection, then declared that the
+programme was delightful. He would not be engaged until the evening.
+
+Blanco laughed uproariously. "It is most amusing," he declared. "I have
+had supper with you--you are to breakfast with me, and I have not yet
+told you my name!" He was searching for a card-case, which seemingly he
+had misplaced. "I cannot find a card. No matter, my name is Sir Manuel
+Blanco."
+
+The Duke smiled as he rose from the table and took up hat and cane. "I
+was equally forgetful," he said. "My name is Monsieur Breuillard."
+
+The following day had advanced well into the afternoon, and Monsieur
+Breuillard had punctuated with graceful compliment each point of
+excellence in the equipment of the _Isis_, when Blanco led the way into
+the small smoking saloon.
+
+"Sailing qualities may not have been fairly tested," admitted Sir
+Manuel, "since the sea was serene, the sky brilliant, and the breeze
+insufficient to ruffle the water."
+
+"The more charming, Monsieur!" exclaimed the guest, whose mood after a
+pleasing day was mellow and complacent.
+
+Blanco waved Monsieur Breuillard to an easy chair and pointed out
+cigars. As chance would have it, he stood before the door, which he had
+just closed.
+
+"By the way--Your Grace--" He broke off abruptly to mark the effect of
+the title on the other man. Evidently he found it highly pleasing for he
+smiled as the Dreamer winced and came violently to his feet, pale and
+rigid, but as yet too astounded for speech.
+
+"I did not tell you, did I," went on the Spaniard, "that I have been Sir
+Manuel Blanco only a few days, and that the title was conferred on me by
+your royal kinsman, Karyl of Galavia, for a trifling service in
+confounding his enemies? Before that I was a _matador_ in Andalusia."
+
+Delgado stood petrified, his features livid and his eyes blazing with
+rage. An instinct warned him that to surrender to passion would be only
+to trap himself more deeply. The man blocking the door filled its
+breadth with his strong shoulders. Louis turned his head and his eyes
+caught through the open porthole a glimpse of the receding shore-line of
+the Riviera. Blanco followed the glance and smiled.
+
+"We shall be losing shore in a short time," he calmly announced. "May I
+have the honor of showing Your Grace to your stateroom?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the next evening Benton emerged from his rooms at the Grand Palace
+Hotel in Puntal, and threading his way through the loungers on the
+galleries, sought out a remote corner of the garden, where, under a
+blossom-freighted vine, he could hear the surge of the sea, and, in a
+tempered softness, the Viennese waltz of the hotel band. Under him the
+harbor mirrored lights along the shore and those of ships at anchor. At
+a distance the windows of the Palace could be seen.
+
+"I beg your pardon--"
+
+Benton recognized the coldly modulated voice before he glanced up at the
+cloaked figure.
+
+"Colonel Von Ritz," he said, "I am honored."
+
+Von Ritz bowed.
+
+"His Majesty requests that you will do him the honor of coming to the
+Palace with me--now."
+
+Despite the form of request in which the summons was couched, Von Ritz
+clothed it in a coldness that brought to Benton's mind the implacable
+politeness of an arrest. At the hint he stiffened.
+
+"If His Majesty requests my presence," he replied with some shortness,
+"it will be a pleasure to present myself at once. If--" he paused and
+looked at the stiffly erect figure before him, "if the peremptory tone
+you assume is a part of your instruction, I must remind you that I am an
+American citizen, entirely free to accept or decline invitations--even
+when they come from the Palace."
+
+Von Ritz replied with unruffled gravity.
+
+"If it will add to your sense of security, Mr. Benton, I shall be
+pleased to drive you to your Legation and to have your government's
+representative accompany us."
+
+Benton flushed. "I was not speaking from any sense of personal
+insecurity," he explained. "But I wished you to understand the manner in
+which I prefer to be approached."
+
+The Colonel waited with perfect courtesy for the American to finish,
+then he went on in the same distantly polite tone and manner. "I had not
+quite finished delivering my message when you--when you began to speak.
+His Majesty instructs me to say that if you will accompany me to the
+Palace he will regard it as a courtesy and will be grateful. He commands
+me to add that he does not send this message officially or as coming
+from the Court. It is simply that the Count Pagratide wishes to see you
+and that it is obviously impossible for His Majesty--for the Count
+Pagratide--to call on you here."
+
+Benton was irritated with himself for his display of temper, and more
+irritated with Von Ritz for his calm superiority of manner. His murmured
+apology was offered with no very good grace as he turned to follow the
+other's lead. Opposite the hotel entrance he stopped.
+
+"Colonel," he said, "I have been awaiting news from Manuel Blanco. He
+may send a message or come himself, and if so it may be vital for him to
+establish instant communication with me."
+
+"Certainly," agreed Von Ritz. "I would suggest that you introduce my
+aide, who may be trusted, at the hotel and that he be instructed to
+bring you any message. By that means, _Señor_ Blanco, or his news, can
+follow you directly to the Palace--and it does not become necessary to
+take others into your confidence."
+
+The same young Captain who had summoned Blanco in the Casino was left to
+act as messenger and Benton, following the officer through a side gate
+and into a side street, stepped into a closed carriage.
+
+"I had not supposed that the Palace knew of my presence in Puntal,"
+commented the American as he took his seat opposite the Colonel of
+Cavalry.
+
+"You were seen on the promenade. It was reported from several sources,"
+Von Ritz made answer. "Also," he added as an afterthought, "we knew of
+your arrival two hours after you reached Puntal. You registered at the
+hotel under your own name."
+
+"Does the Queen also know of my presence?" asked Benton.
+
+"No," was the brief reply.
+
+For the remainder of the drive conversation died. The two men sat mutely
+opposite each other as the carriage jolted over the cobble-stoned
+streets, until the driver turned into the castle gates.
+
+Then Von Ritz again leaned forward.
+
+"Mr. Benton," he explained, "it happens that this evening a ball is
+being given at the Palace for the members of the Diplomatic Corps. His
+Majesty, supposing that you would desire a quiet reception, instructed
+me to take you to the gardens of his private suite where he will shortly
+join you; unless," added Von Ritz courteously, "you prefer the
+Throne-room and dancing _salles_?"
+
+Benton's reply was prompt.
+
+"I believe I am to see the Count Pagratide," he answered. "I am grateful
+to the Count for arranging that I might be secluded."
+
+Blanco had gone into some detail in describing the chamber where he had
+met the King, and later the Queen. Benton now recognized the place to
+which he was conducted, from that description. As before, the room was
+empty and the portières of the wide windows were partly drawn. Through
+the opening he could see the small area perching on a space redeemed
+from the solid rock. Dark masses against the sky marked the palms of the
+garden, and through the window drifted the splashing of a fountain
+mingled with the distant strains of the same Viennese waltz that the
+hotel band had been playing. That year you might have heard it from the
+Golden Gate to Suez and back again from Suez to the Golden Gate.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+IN WHICH THE SPHINX BREAKS SILENCE
+
+
+Left alone, Benton spent ten minutes in the room, then passed through
+the window to the balcony and went down into the miniature garden. His
+face was hot and his pulses heightened. The garden was gratefully cool
+and quiet.
+
+From the window, through which he had come, a broad shaft of tempered
+luminance fell across the fountain and laid a zone of soft light athwart
+the low stone benches surrounding it. Then it caught, and faintly edged
+with its glow, the granite balustrade at the shoulder of the cliff.
+Elsewhere the little garden was enveloped in the velvet blackness of the
+night, against which the points of town and harbor lights, far below,
+were splinters of emerald and ruby. The moon would not rise until late.
+
+The American strolled over to the shaded margin which was unspoiled by
+the light. He brushed back the hair from his forehead and let the sea
+breeze play on his face.
+
+Finally a light sound behind him called his attention inward. The King
+and Von Ritz stood together in the doorway. Both were in dress uniform.
+Karyl, even at the side of the soldierly Von Ritz, was striking in the
+white and silver of Galavia's commanding general. Across his breast
+glinted the decorations of all the orders to which Royalty entitled him.
+
+The King, with a deep breath not unlike a sigh, came forward to the
+fountain. There he halted with one booted foot on the margin of the
+basin and his white-gauntleted hands clasped at his back. He had not yet
+seen Benton, who now stepped out of the shadow to present himself. As he
+came into view Karyl raised his eyes and nodded with a smile.
+
+"Ah, Benton," he said, "so you came! Thank you."
+
+The American bowed. He wished to observe every proper amenity of Court
+etiquette. He was still chagrined by the memory of his rudeness to Von
+Ritz, yet he was determined that if Karyl had sent for him as the Count
+Pagratide, he must receive him on equal terms and without ceremony.
+
+"Certainly," he replied. Then with a short laugh he added: "I have never
+before been received by a crowned head. If my etiquette proves faulty,
+you must score it against my ignorance--not my intention."
+
+"I sent for you," said Karyl slowly, as the eyes of the two men met in
+full directness, "and you were good enough to come. I am a crowned
+head--yes--that is my damned ill-fortune. Let us, for God's sake, in so
+far as we may, forget that! Benton, back there--" his voice suddenly
+rose and took on a passionate tremor as he lifted one gauntleted hand in
+a sweep toward the west--"back there in your country, where you were a
+grandee of finance and I an impecunious foreigner, there was no ceremony
+between us. If we can forget this livery"--Karyl savagely struck his
+breast--"if you will try to forget that you are looking at a toy King,
+fancifully trimmed from head to heel in braid and medals--then perhaps
+we can talk!"
+
+"Your Majesty--" demurred Von Ritz in a tone of deep protest.
+
+The King swept his arm back as one who brushes an unimportant intruder
+into the background.
+
+"And we must talk," went on Karyl vehemently, "as two men, not as one
+man and a puppet."
+
+The American stood looking on at the violence of the King's outburst
+with a sense of deep sympathy. Again the Colonel stepped forward with an
+interposed objection.
+
+"If I may suggest--" he began in an emotionless inflection which fell in
+startling contrast with the surcharged vehemence of the other. Then he
+halted in the midst of his sentence as Karyl wheeled passionately to
+face him.
+
+"My God, Colonel!" cried the King. "There is not a debt of gratitude in
+life that I do not owe to you--I and my house! I am crushed under my
+obligations to you. You have been our strength, our one loyal support,
+and yet there are times when you madden me!" The officer stood waiting,
+respectful, impersonal, until the flood of words should subside, but for
+a while Karyl swept agitatedly on.
+
+"You wear a sword, Von Ritz, which any monarch in Europe would hire at
+your own price. Any government would let you name what titles and honors
+you wished in payment--"
+
+"Your Majesty!"
+
+"Forgive me, I know your sword is not for sale. I mean no such
+intimation. I mean only that it has a value. I mean you are a man, and
+the game to you is the large one of statecraft. It is really you who
+rule this Kingdom. Ah, yes, you remonstrate, but I tell you it is true,
+and the damnable shame is that it is not a Kingdom worthy of your
+genius! You, Von Ritz, are the engine, the motive force--but I--in God's
+holy name, what am I?"
+
+He raised his hands questioningly, appealingly.
+
+"You," replied the older soldier calmly, "are the King."
+
+"Yes," Karyl caught up the words almost before they had fallen from the
+lips of the other. "Yes, I am the King. I am the miserable, gilded
+figurehead out on the prow, which serves no end and no purpose. I am
+the ornamental symbol of a system which the world is discarding! I am a
+medieval lay figure upon which to hang these tinsel decorations, these
+ribbons!"
+
+"Your Majesty is excited."
+
+"No, by God, I am only heartbroken--and I am through!" The King's hands
+dropped at his sides. The passion died out of his voice and eyes,
+leaving them those of a man who is very tired. For a moment there was
+silence. It was broken by the American.
+
+"Pagratide," he asked, "why did you send for me?"
+
+The King stood rigid with the illuminating shaft from the door touching
+into high-lights the polish of his boots and the burnish of his
+accouterments. Finally he turned and in a voice now deadly quiet
+countered with another question.
+
+"Benton, why did you save me?"
+
+The American answered with quiet candor.
+
+"I went into it," he said, "because I feared the danger might threaten
+Cara. Once in, only a murderer could have turned back."
+
+"So I thought." Karyl nodded his head, then he turned and paced
+restively up and down the path between the fountain and the balcony. At
+last he halted fronting the American.
+
+"I wish to God, Benton, you had let that traitor Lapas and his
+constituents touch their damned button. I wish to God you had let them
+lift me, amid the stones of _do Freres_, into eternity! But that wish is
+uncharitable to Von Ritz and the others who must have gone with me." The
+King broke off with a short laugh. "After all," he added, "of course, as
+you say, you couldn't do it."
+
+Benton shook his head. "No," he said, "I couldn't do it."
+
+Again Karyl paced back and forth, and again he stopped, facing the
+American.
+
+"Benton, it is hard for two men to talk in this fashion. Perhaps no two
+other men ever did. I find myself a jailer to the woman I love--Oh, yes,
+I am also imprisoned by Royalty but that does not alter matters." The
+voice shook. The gauntleted hands were tightly gripped, but the speaker
+went steadily on. "And you love her!"
+
+For an instant Benton looked at the other, hesitant. Then realizing the
+unquestionable sincerity with which the King spoke, he answered with
+equal frankness.
+
+"Pagratide--over there--I thought I could enter Paradise. I did look
+into Paradise. Then I had to set my face back again to the desert--and
+in the desert one has only memory and hunger and thirst."
+
+"Yours is hunger and thirst--yes!" exclaimed the King of Galavia. "But
+mine is the hunger and thirst of Tantalus."
+
+There was a low pained exclamation from the balcony and both men wheeled
+in recognition of the voice and the shadow that divided the band of
+light in the doorway.
+
+The Queen stood on the low sill and though her head and figure were only
+sketched in shade against the tempered luminance at her back her
+exclamation told them that she had heard. She stood in the unbroken
+sweep of her Court gown. Her slim hands gripped the ermine which fell
+from her shoulders to the floor and slowly crushed it between clenched
+fingers. About her head the light touched her hair into a soft nimbus.
+
+Karyl stepped impetuously forward and held out his hand to lead her into
+the garden. Benton, who had involuntarily started toward the balcony at
+the first sight of her, caught his lip in his teeth and halted where he
+stood.
+
+The girl remained for a moment, astonished at the sight of the two men,
+incredulous of what she had heard.
+
+She had slipped away for a moment of respite from the fatiguing
+requirements of the ball-room. She had come here because she had felt
+sure that here she could be alone. She had come, driven by the prompting
+of her heart, to look out to the Mediterranean and wonder where, between
+its gates at Gibraltar and Suez, Benton might at that moment be. And
+from the balcony she had seen him in the garden and had heard a part of
+this talk before the spell of her astounded muteness broke into
+exclamation.
+
+"You heard what we were saying." Karyl spoke gently, deferentially. "And
+it seemed to you incredible that we should be confidential on such a
+subject. It would be so, except that we are both seeking the same
+end--your service--" he paused, then added miserably--"and your
+happiness."
+
+She listened in wonderment as she held out her hand to Benton and
+watched trance-like his lowered head as he bent his lips to her fingers.
+
+"Cara!" Karyl had stepped back and was leaning over, his elbows resting
+on the stone back of one of the low benches. His fingers tightly grasped
+the carved ornaments at its top. His words were carefully chosen and
+measuredly spoken. He knew that if he permitted one expression to escape
+him unguardedly, with it would slip away the command by which he was
+curbing mutinous emotions.
+
+"Cara, I happened to be born a Prince, who should one day develop into a
+King. It chanced that Nature had a sense of humor--so Nature paid me a
+droll compliment. She gave me a futile ambition to be a man--me, whom
+she had decided was to be only a King!"
+
+The group stood silent and attentive in a strained tableau, except for
+Von Ritz, who paced back and forth just beyond the fountain, as though
+respectfully repudiating the whole unseemly episode.
+
+"Then I fell in love with you," went on the King of Galavia. "You
+married me--because State reasons demanded it. I could not win your
+love--he did!" He turned toward Benton, and his voice, though it held
+its slow control, was bitter.
+
+"Benton, do you fancy this puny game amuses me? Do I not know that you
+could buy a principality like this for a souvenir of Europe if it
+happened to please you? The one time I have been allowed to feel a man
+was in your country, where we met as equal rivals.... No, not equal even
+then, because you were the winner, I the loser."
+
+"Karyl," the Queen spoke in a low voice, "I can give you loyalty,
+admiration, respect and my life to use as you see fit to use it. I give
+as freely as I can. My love I do not refuse--it is just ... just that it
+is not mine to give." She spoke with unutterable weariness. "I seem to
+bring only sorrow to those who love me."
+
+"You can give me all but love," Karyl repeated very softly, leaning
+forward toward her, "and love is all there is! Without it I take all
+else you give me as a thief takes, without right. If being a King means
+being your jailer, then I am done with being a King!"
+
+"Your Majesty," cut in Von Ritz sharply, "it is time to terminate this
+talk. It has no end. It is aimless argument which comes only back to the
+starting point."
+
+The King wheeled and met the eyes of his adviser. The studied
+self-control he had maintained since Cara's arrival slipped from him and
+his voice broke out explosively.
+
+"It has an end!" he cried. "I will show you the end. If I cannot build
+empire I can do something else, I can throw this damnable little Kingdom
+down into the chaos it deserves!... I can abdicate to my cousin, Louis
+Delgado, who wants the throne I don't want!... I can stamp on this
+tinseled trumpery.... I can break jail!" He turned with an impassioned
+out-sweeping of his hands. Coming swiftly from behind the bench, he
+halted tensely before Benton and leaned defiantly forward. "Then I can
+free her--and by God I shall fight you for her on equal terms, inch by
+inch, not holding her in duress, but fighting for her free consent. She
+has been trapped by Fate into marrying me and at heart she rebels. I
+shall set her free and then by God I will win her back!"
+
+Von Ritz had stood by as the King rushed on in climax after climax of
+heated words. Now he took one swift stride forward. From his quiet face
+had fallen every trace of impassiveness. When he spoke his voice
+trembled with the irresistible eloquence of power and fire.
+
+"My God, boy!" He seized Karyl by his shoulders and wheeled him so that
+they stood face to face. There was in his manner nothing of deference,
+nothing of the subordinate. Now he stood transformed, the man of action;
+the dominant, compelling force before whom littler men must wither. This
+was no longer Von Ritz the emotionless. It was Von Ritz the King-maker,
+burning with vitalizing passion.
+
+"My God, boy, are you mad? Do you think other men have never loved and
+sacrificed themselves for duty--kept unuttered, locked in their hearts,
+things they were hungry to say?... Do you think that your hard task of
+Kingship is yours to play with--to desert?... Why, boy, I've taught you
+your manual of arms, I've drilled you, trained you, watched you grow
+from childhood. My heart has beaten with joy because you were free of
+every degenerate trace that has marked and scarred Europe's cancerous
+Royalty! I've seen you come clean-hearted, straight-minded into
+man-hood; prepared you to show the world what a Kingdom can be with a
+clean King--a strong King! I've fitted you to bear a burden which only a
+man could bear--to remind the world that 'King' means the Man Who
+Can--and I thought you could do it!" He paused only to draw a long
+breath, then hastened on again. "Yes, your task is thankless. Your
+Principality is small, but it is a keystone in Europe's arch. It is such
+Princelings as you who must send clean blood down to the thrones of
+to-morrow.... Is that not enough?... Have I built a King, day by day,
+year by year, idea by idea, only to see him wither and crumple under the
+first blast? Go on with your task, in God's name! Probably they will
+murder you ... assassination may at the end be your reward, but only the
+coward fears the outcome! For God's sake, Karyl, don't desert me under
+fire!"
+
+He paused with a gesture eloquent of appeal. When next he spoke his
+voice was slow, deliberate.
+
+"And the other picture! The café tables of Paris are crowded with
+Royalty that has been; with the miserable children of conquered and
+abdicated Kings!"
+
+The King dropped exhaustedly to the bench, his fore-arms on his knees,
+his gloved fingers hanging limp. After a moment he rose again and went
+to Cara.
+
+"I want to fight for you," he said simply. "I want to free you
+first--then fight for you."
+
+"Karyl," she answered gently, "if you do _this_, you will enslave my
+soul, and my imprisonment will be only harder. You will make me a
+wrecker of governments--a traitor to my duty."
+
+The King turned and looked out to sea.
+
+"I must think," he said in a tired voice. "Perhaps it is only a matter
+of time. Delgado is free. Perhaps I shall not have to present him with
+my throne. Conceivably he may come and take it."
+
+Von Ritz approached again and took Karyl's hand. To him a King was, at
+last analysis, only the best product of the King-maker's craft. He was a
+King-maker--before him stood a tired boy whom he loved.
+
+"You will fight," he said, "and you will fight with hell's fury. The
+first step will be to recapture this Pretender. With him in hand--"
+
+"Which is in itself impossible," retorted Karyl.
+
+At the window appeared the young Captain who had been left at the hotel.
+His hand was at his forehead in salute. Von Ritz went to meet him and in
+a moment returned for Benton. Together the two men went out. Five
+minutes later they had come again into the garden. With them came Manuel
+Blanco.
+
+The bull fighter paused to bow low to the Queen, then to the King. At
+last he spoke with some diffidence.
+
+"I have taken the very great liberty," he said, "of making the Duke
+Louis Delgado an enforced guest on the yacht--where he awaits Your
+Majesty's pleasure."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+THE JACKAL TAKES THE TRAIL
+
+
+"When the Duke avowed himself to be kidnaped, he committed an error so
+grave that it can hardly be--overestimated." The speaker used the last
+word as an afterthought. His first inclination was to say, forgiven.
+
+Monsieur Jusseret sat upright in the brougham, scorning the supporting
+cushions at his back. His small, shrewd eyes frowned his deep
+disapproval over the roofs of Algiers outspread below him. He scowled on
+the gaudy and tatterdemalion color of the native city. He scowled on the
+smart brilliancy of the French quarter basking along the _Place du
+Government_ and the _Boulevard de la Republique_.
+
+The Countess Astaride leaned back and smiled from the depths of the
+cushions.
+
+"It is usually a mistake to be made a prisoner," she smiled.
+
+"But such a foolish mistake," quarreled Jusseret. "To permit oneself to
+be lured into so palpable a trap. It is most absurd."
+
+"Now that it is done," inquired the woman, "is it not almost as absurd
+to waste time deploring the spilled milk? We must find a way to set him
+free."
+
+"I have done all that could be done. I have stationed men whom I can
+trust throughout Puntal and Galavia. They are men Karyl likewise thinks
+he can trust. The distinction is that I know--where he merely thinks."
+
+"And these men--what have they done?" The Countess laid one gloved hand
+eagerly on the Frenchman's coat-sleeve.
+
+"These men have gradually and quietly reorganized the army, the
+bureaucracy, the very palace Guard. We have undermined the government's
+power, until when the word is passed to strike the blow, a honey-combed
+system will crumble under its own weight. When Karyl calls on his
+troops, not one man will respond. Well--" Jusseret smiled
+dryly--"perhaps I overstate the case. Possibly one man will. I think we
+will hardly convert Von Ritz."
+
+"Ah, that is good news, Monsieur." The Countess breathed the words with
+a tremor of enthusiasm.
+
+"It is, however, all useless, Madame--since His Grace is unavailable. In
+captivity he is absolutely valueless."
+
+"In captivity he has a stronger claim upon our loyalty than in power!"
+
+The dark-room diplomat regarded her with a disappointed smile.
+
+"For a clever woman, _Comptesse_, who has heretofore played the game so
+brilliantly, you have grown singularly unobservant. I am not a crusader,
+liberating captive Christian knights. I am France's servant, playing a
+somewhat guileful game which is as ancient as Ulysses, and subject to
+certain definite rules."
+
+"Yes, but--"
+
+"But, my dear lady, this revolution I have planted--nourished and
+cultivated to ripeness--I cannot harvest it. Outside Europe must not
+appear interested in this matter. If the Galavian people led by a member
+of the Galavian Royal House revolts! _Bien!_ More than
+_bien_--excellent!" Jusseret spread his palms. "But unless there is a
+leader, there can be no revolution. No, no, Louis should have kept out
+of custody."
+
+The Countess leaned forward with sudden eagerness.
+
+"And if I free him? If I devise a way?"
+
+The Frenchman turned quickly from contemplation of the landscape to her
+face.
+
+"Ah!" he exclaimed. "Once more you are yourself; the cleverest woman in
+Europe, as, always, you are the most charming!"
+
+"Do you know where Monsieur Martin may be found?"
+
+Jusseret looked at her in surprise.
+
+"I supposed he was here, consulting with you. I sent him to you with a
+letter--recommending him as a useful instrument."
+
+"He was in Algiers, but I sent him away." The Countess laughed. "He
+wanted money, always money, until I wearied of furnishing his purse."
+
+"Even if he were available he could hardly go to Puntal, Madame,"
+demurred Jusseret. "Von Ritz knows him."
+
+"True." The Countess sat for a time in deep thought.
+
+"There is one man in Puntal," said Jusseret with sudden thought, "who
+might possibly be of assistance to you. He is not legally a citizen of
+Galavia. He even has a certain official connection with another
+government. He is a man I cannot myself approach." Jusseret had been
+talking in a low tone, too low to endanger being overheard by the
+_cocher_, but now with excess of caution he leaned forward and whispered
+a name. The name was José Reebeler.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was June. Three months had passed since the Grand Duke had steamed
+into Puntal Harbor as Blanco's prisoner of war. The Duke had since that
+day been a guest of the King. His goings and comings were, however,
+guarded with strict solicitude. One day he went after his custom for a
+stroll in the Palace garden. He was accompanied by two officers of the
+Palace Guard especially selected by Von Ritz for known fidelity. At the
+garden gates stood picked sentinels. That evening a fisherman's boat
+stole out of the harbor. Neither Louis Delgado nor his guard returned.
+The sentinels failed to respond at roll-call.
+
+As the King and the Colonel listened to the report of the escape,
+Karyl's face paled a little and the features of Von Ritz hardened.
+Orders were given for an instant dispatch in cipher, demanding from a
+secret agent in Algiers all information obtainable as to the movements
+of the Countess Astaride. The reply brought the statement that the
+Countess had, several days before, sailed for Alexandria and Cairo.
+
+Von Ritz became preternaturally active, masking every movement under his
+accustomed seeming of imperturbable calm. At last he brought his report
+to the King. "It signifies one thing which I had not suspected. Among
+the men whom I thought I could most implicitly trust, there is treason.
+How deep that cancer goes is a matter as to which we can only make
+guesses."
+
+Karyl took a few turns across the floor.
+
+"And by that you mean that we are over a volcano which may break into
+eruption at any moment?"
+
+Von Ritz nodded.
+
+"And the Queen--" began Karyl.
+
+"I have been thinking of Her Majesty," said the Colonel. "She should
+leave Puntal, but she will not go, if it occurs to her that she is being
+sent away to escape danger. Her Majesty's courage might almost be called
+stubborn."
+
+The King made no immediate response. He was standing at a window,
+looking out at the serenity of sea and sky. His forehead was drawn in
+thought. He knew that Von Ritz was right. Had Cara hated him, instead of
+merely finding herself unable to love him, he knew that the first threat
+of danger would arouse the ally in her, and that the suggestion of
+flight would throw her into the attitude of determined resistance. She
+was like the captain who goes down with his ship, not because he loves
+the ship, but because his place is on the bridge.
+
+Von Ritz went on quietly.
+
+"God grant that Your Majesty may be in no actual danger. But we must
+face the situation open-eyed. Your place is here. If by mischance you
+should fall, there is no reason why--" he hesitated, then added--"why
+the dynasty should end with you. In Galavia there is no Salic law. Her
+Majesty could reign. Undoubtedly the Queen should be in some safer
+place."
+
+The King dropped into a chair and sat for some minutes with his eyes
+thoughtfully on the floor. Abstractedly he puffed a cigarette. At last
+he raised his face. It was pale, but stamped with determination.
+
+"There is only one thing to do, Von Ritz. There is one available
+refuge."
+
+The soldier read the reluctant eyes of the other, and spared him the
+necessary explanation with a question. "Mr. Benton's yacht?" he
+inquired.
+
+Karyl nodded. "The yacht."
+
+"I, too, had thought of that, but how can you arrange it, Your Majesty?"
+
+"We must persuade her that she requires a change of scene and that this
+is the one way she can have it without conspicuousness. It can be given
+out that she has gone to Maritzburg, and I shall tell her"--Karyl smiled
+with a cynical humor--"that I am over-weary with this task of Kingship,
+and that I shall join her within a few days for a brief truancy from the
+cares of state."
+
+"It may be the safest thing," reflected the officer. "It at least frees
+our minds of a burdensome anxiety."
+
+"I shall persuade her," declared Karyl. "She can take several
+ladies-in-waiting and you can accompany her to the yacht and explain to
+Benton. Direct him to cruise within wireless call and to avoid cities
+where the Queen might be in danger of recognition. She must remain until
+we gain some hint as to when and where the crater is apt to break into
+eruption."
+
+Jusseret was busy. His agencies were at work over the peninsula. It was
+the sort of conspiracy in which the Frenchman took the keenest
+delight--purely a military revolution.
+
+The peasant on the mountains, the agriculturist in his buttressed and
+terraced farm, the grape-grower in his vineyard and the artisan and
+laborer in Puntal did not know that there was dissatisfaction with the
+government.
+
+But in the small army and the smaller bureaucracy there was plotting and
+undermining. Subtle and devious temptations were employed. Captains saw
+before them the shoulder straps of the major, lieutenants the insignia
+of the captain, privates the chevrons of the sergeant.
+
+Meanwhile, from a town in southerly Europe, near the Galavian frontier,
+Monsieur Jusseret in person was alertly watching.
+
+Martin, the "English Jackal," much depleted in fortune, drifting before
+vagabond winds and hailing last from Malta, learned of the Frenchman's
+seemingly empty programme. Since his dismissal by the Countess, there
+had been no employer for his unscrupulous talents. Now he needed funds.
+Where Jusseret operated there might be work in his particular line. He
+knew that when this man seemed most idle he was often most busy. Martin
+had come to a near-by point by chance. He went on to Jusseret's town,
+and then to his hotel, with the same surety and motive that directs the
+vulture to its carrion. The Jackal was ushered into the Frenchman's
+room in the tattered and somewhat disheveled condition to which his
+recent weeks of vagabondage had subjected him.
+
+Jusseret looked his former ally over with scarcely concealed contempt.
+Martin sustained the stare and returned it with one coolly audacious.
+
+"I daresay," he began, with something of insolence in his drawl, "it's
+hardly necessary to explain why I'm here. I'm looking for something to
+do, and in my condition"--he glanced deprecatingly down at his faded
+tweeds--"one can't be over nice in selecting one's business associates."
+
+Jusseret was secretly pleased. He divined that before the end came there
+might be use for Martin, though no immediate need of him suggested
+itself. There were so few men obtainable who would, without question,
+undertake and execute intrigue or homicide equally well. It might be
+expedient to hold this one in reserve.
+
+"We will not quarrel, Monsieur Martin," he said almost with a purr. "It
+is not even necessary to return the compliment. It is so well
+understood, why one employs your capable services."
+
+The Englishman flushed. To defend his reputation would be a waste of
+time.
+
+"_Madame la Comptesse_ d'Astaride," explained Jusseret, "has gone to
+Cairo. She may require your wits as well as her own before the game is
+played out. Join her there and take your instructions from her." As he
+spoke the map-reviser began counting bills from his well-supplied purse.
+Martin looked at them avidly, then objected with a surly frown.
+
+"She sent me away once, and I don't particularly care for the Cairo
+idea."
+
+"This time she will not send you away." Jusseret glanced up with a bland
+smile. "And it seems I remember a season, not so many years gone, when
+you were a rather prominent personage upon the terrace of Shephard's.
+You were quite an engaging figure of a man, Monsieur Martin, in flannels
+and Panama hat, quite a smart figure!"
+
+The Englishman scowled. "You delight, Monsieur, in touching the raw
+spots--However, I daresay matters will go rippingly." He took the bills
+and counted them into his own purse. "A chap can't afford to be too
+sentimental or thin-skinned." He was thinking of a couple of clubs in
+Cairo from which he had been asked to resign. Then he laughed callously
+as he added aloud: "You see there's a regiment stationed there, just
+now, which I'd rather not meet. I used to belong to its mess--once upon
+a time."
+
+Jusseret looked up at the renegade, then with a cynical laugh he rose.
+
+"These little matters _are_ inconvenient," he admitted, "but
+embarrassments beset one everywhere. If one turns aside to avoid his
+old regiment, who knows but he may meet his tailor insistent upon
+payment--or the lady who was once his wife?"
+
+He lighted a cigarette, then with the refined cruelty that enjoyed
+torturing a victim who could not afford to resent his brutality, he
+added:
+
+"But these army regulations are extremely annoying, I daresay--these
+rules which proclaim it infamous to recognize one who--who has, under
+certain circumstances, ceased to be a brother-officer."
+
+The Englishman was leaning across the table, his cheek-bones red and his
+eyes dangerous.
+
+"By God, Jusseret, don't go too far!" he cautioned.
+
+The Frenchman raised his hands in an apologetic gesture, but his eyes
+still held a trace of the malevolent smile.
+
+"A thousand pardons, my dear Martin," he begged. "I meant only to be
+sympathetic."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+THE DEATH Of ROMANCE IS DEPLORED
+
+
+"And yet," declared young Harcourt, "if there still survives, anywhere
+in the world, a vestige of Romance, this should be her refuge; her last
+stand against the encroachments of the commonplace."
+
+He spoke animatedly, with the double eagerness of a boy and an artist,
+sweeping one hand outward in an argumentative gesture. It was a gesture
+which seemed to submit in evidence all the palpitating colors of Capri
+sunning herself among her rocks: all the sparkle and glitter of the Bay
+of Naples spreading away to the nebulous line where Ischia bulked
+herself in mist against the horizon: all the majesty of the cone where
+the fires of Vesuvius lay sleeping.
+
+Across the table Sir Manuel Blanco shrugged his broad shoulders.
+
+Benton lighted a cigarette, and a smile, scarcely indicative of frank
+amusement, flickered in his eyes.
+
+"Do you hold that Romance is on the run?" he queried.
+
+"Where do you find it nowadays?" demanded the boy in flannels. "There!"
+With the violence of disgust he slammed a Baedeker of Southern Italy
+down upon the table. "That is the way we see the world in these days! We
+go back with souvenir postcards instead of experiences, and when we get
+home we have just been to a lot of tramped-over places. I'll wager that
+a handful of this copper junk they call money over here, would buy in a
+bull market all the real adventure any of us will ever know."
+
+The three had been lunching out-doors in a Capri hotel with flagstones
+for a floor and overhanging vine-trellises for a roof. Chance had thrown
+this young stranger across their path, and luncheon had cemented an
+acquaintanceship.
+
+"Who can say?" suggested Benton. "Why hunt Trouble under the alias of
+Romance? Vesuvius, across there, is as vague and noiseless to-day as a
+wraith, but to-morrow his demon may run amuck over all this end of
+Italy! And then--" His laugh finished the speculation.
+
+"And yet," went on the boy, after a moment's pause, "I was just thinking
+of a chap I met in Algiers a while back and later on the boat to Malta.
+I ran across him in one of those vile little twisting alleys in the
+Kasbah quarter where dirty natives sit cross-legged on shabby rugs and
+eye the 'Infidel dogs' just as spiders watch flies from loathsome
+webs--ugh, you know the sort of place!" He paused with a slight shudder
+of reminiscent disgust. "I fancy he has had adventures. We had a glass
+of wine later down at one of the sidewalk cafés in the _Boulevard de la
+Republique_. He showed me lots of things that a regular guide would have
+omitted. The fellow was on his uppers, yet he had been something else,
+and still knew genteel people. Up on the driveway by the villas, where
+fashion parades, he excused himself to speak with a magnificently
+dressed woman in a brougham, and she chatted with him in a manner almost
+confidential. He told me later she might some day occupy a throne; I
+think her name was the Countess Astaride."
+
+Benton looked up quickly and his eyes met those of the Spaniard with a
+swiftly flashed message which excluded Harcourt.
+
+"This fellow and I were on the same boat coming over to Valetta,"
+continued the young tourist. "One night in the smoke-room, the steward
+was filling the glasses pretty frequently. At last he became
+confidential."
+
+"Yes?" prompted Benton.
+
+"Well, he told me he had once held a commission in the British Army and
+had seen service in diplomacy as military attaché. Then he got
+cashiered. He didn't go into particulars, and of course I didn't
+cross-question. He recited some weird experiences. He had been a cattle
+man in Australia and a horse-trader in Syria and had served the Sultan
+in Turkey. There were lots of things that would have made a good book."
+The boy's voice took on a note of young ardor. "But the great story was
+the one he told last. He had stood to win a title of nobility in this
+two-by-four Kingdom of Galavia, but it had slipped away from him just on
+the verge of attainment."
+
+Harcourt slowly drained his thin Capri wine and set down the goblet.
+
+"I must watch the time," he remembered at last, drawing out his watch.
+"I do the Blue Grotto this afternoon.... Well, to continue: This chap
+gave the name Browne (he insisted that it be Browne with an e), though
+while he was drunk he called himself Martin.
+
+"He told a long and complicated story of plans in which a King was to
+lose his life and throne. He said that the secret cabinets of several of
+the major European governments were interested, and that just as
+carefully prepared plans were about to be consummated something
+happened--something mysterious which none of the cleverest agents of the
+governments had been able to solve. In some unfathomable way someone had
+discovered everything and stepped between and disarranged. No upheaval
+followed and of course Browne never won his title. They have never yet
+learned who saved that throne. Someone is working magic and getting
+away with it under the eyes of Europe's cleverest detectives."
+
+The boy stopped and looked about to see if his recital had aroused the
+proper wonderment. Both men gave expression of deep interest. Flattered
+by the impression he had made, Harcourt went on. "Now you fellows are
+old travelers--men of the world--I am a kid compared to you. Yet has
+either of you stumbled on such a story as that? So you see wonderful
+things do sometimes happen under the surface of affairs with never a
+ripple at the top of the water. Browne--or Martin--said that the Duke
+would reign yet--oh, yes, he said the Powers would see to that!"
+
+"_Señor_, what became of your friend?" inquired Blanco.
+
+"Oh!" the boy hesitated for a moment, then broke into a laugh. "I'm
+afraid that's an anti-climax. They found that he was simply a nervy
+stowaway. He had not booked his passage and so--"
+
+"They put him off?"
+
+"Yes, at Malta. Meantime he was stripped to the waist and armed with a
+shovel in the stoke-hold."
+
+Benton laughed.
+
+"There was another phase to it, though--" began the boy afresh.
+
+At that moment the whistle of the small excursion steamer below broke
+out in a shrill scream. Young Harcourt hurriedly pushed back his chair
+and grabbed for his Panama hat. "Cæsar!" he cried, "there's the whistle.
+I shall miss my boat for the Grotto." And he hastened off with a shout
+of summons to a crazy victoria that was clattering by empty.
+
+During a long silence Blanco studied the cone of Vesuvius.
+
+"Blanco!" Benton leaned across the table with an anxious frown and
+stretched out a hand which over-turned the wine glasses. "There was one
+thing he said that stuck in my memory. He said the Powers would see that
+in the end Louis had his throne."
+
+The Spaniard shook his head dubiously.
+
+"The Powers have lost their instrument! You forget, _Señor_, that this
+is underground diplomacy. It must appear to work itself out and the new
+King must be logical. With Louis a prisoner their meddling hands are
+bound."
+
+Benton rose and pushed back his chair. His companion joined him and
+together they passed out through the stone-flagged court and into the
+road. For fifteen minutes they walked morosely and in silence through
+the steep streets where the shops are tourist-traps, alluringly baited
+with corals and trinkets. Finally they came out on the beach where many
+fishing boats were dragged up on the sand, and nets stretched, drying in
+the sun.
+
+Then Benton spoke.
+
+"In God's name, Manuel, what do I care who occupies the throne of
+Galavia? No other man could so block my path as Karyl." Then as one in
+the confessional he declared shamefacedly: "I have never said it to any
+man because it is too much like murder, but--sometimes I wish I had
+reached Cadiz one day later than I did." He drew his handkerchief and
+wiped the moisture from his forehead.
+
+The Spaniard skillfully kindled a cigarette in the spurt of a match,
+which the gusty sea-breeze made short-lived.
+
+"And now," he calmly suggested, "it is still possible to let Europe play
+out her game alone. After all, _Señor_, we are as the young _touristo_
+indicated--only amateurs."
+
+"And yet, Manuel," the American smiled half-quizzically, "yet we seem
+foreordained to play bodyguard to Karyl. Fate throws him on our hands."
+
+"We might decline in future to accept the charge."
+
+Benton halted so close to the water's edge that a bit of sea-weed was
+washed up close to his feet. "Any threat to the throne of Galavia now is
+also a threat to Her. We must learn what these Powers purpose doing."
+He threw back his shoulders and his step quickened with the resolution
+of fresh action.
+
+"Besides," he supplemented, "Delgado is a dreaming degenerate! We must
+get back into the game."
+
+The Spaniard laughed. "As you say, _Señor_. After all, this mere
+cruising grows monotonous. Playing the game is better."
+
+When, at twilight that evening, the launch came chugging back to the
+yacht with the mail from Naples, Benton caught sight of a blue envelope
+in which he recognized the form of the Italian telegraph. He tore it
+open and his brows contracted in incredulous wonderment as he read the
+message.
+
+"Miss Carstow and two other ladies arrive Parker's Hotel Naples Tuesday
+afternoon. Rely on your meeting her with yacht. She will explain. Be
+ready to sail immediately on arrival. Address reply Pagratide, care
+Grand Palace Hotel."
+
+Benton smiled almost happily as he scrawled, in reply, "_Isis_ and self
+at Miss Carstow's service. Waiting under steam. Benton."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+NAPLES ASSUMES NEW BEAUTY
+
+
+The following day was Tuesday. It found Benton nearer cheerfulness than
+he had been since the _Isis_ had in February pointed her bow eastward
+for the run across the Atlantic, under sealed orders.
+
+To Blanco the yachtsman announced that he would lunch at Parker's, and
+evasively asked the Spaniard if he would mind being left alone for the
+day.
+
+As the coachman, hailed at random from the mob of brigands by the
+Custom-house entrance, cracked his whip over the bony stallion in the
+fiacre shafts, Benton began to notice that Naples was altogether
+charming. He found no refusals for the tatterdemalion vagabonds who
+pattered alongside to thrust their violets over the carriage door.
+
+At last, as he paced one of the main parlors of the hotel, his eyes
+riveted on the street entrance, he heard a laugh behind him; a laugh
+tempered with a vibrant mellowness which was of a sort with no other
+laugh, and which set him vibrating in turn, as promptly as a tuning-fork
+answers to its note.
+
+The sound brought him round in such electric haste as almost resulted in
+collision with the girl behind him.
+
+He was prepared, of course, to find in her incognita no suggestion of
+Royalty, yet now when he met her standing alone, and could take the hand
+she held out to him with her heart-breaking, heart-recompensating smile,
+he felt a distinct sense of astonishment.
+
+"I'm having a holiday," she declared. "It's to be the Queen's day off
+and you are being allowed to play host with the _Isis_. Do you approve?"
+
+With abandonment to the delight of mere propinquity, he laid away sorrow
+against the returning time of her absence, as one lays away an umbrella
+until the next shower.
+
+"Approve?" he mocked. "It's like asking the drowning man if he approves
+of being picked up."
+
+For a moment her eyes clouded and a droop threatened her lips.
+
+"But," she said in a softer tone, "what if you've got to be thrown back
+into the sea again?" Then she added, "And, you see, I have. Probably I'm
+very foolish to come. The prison will only be blacker, but I couldn't
+stand it. I wanted--" She looked at him with the frankness which has
+nothing to conceal--"I wanted to forget it all for a little time."
+
+With a frigid salutation, Colonel Von Ritz arrived. As he addressed the
+American, despite his flawless courtesy, his voice still carried the
+undercurrent of antagonism which no word of his had ever failed to
+convey to Benton, since their first meeting in America.
+
+"If Miss Carstow"--he uttered the assumed name with distaste--"will
+excuse you," he suggested, "I should like a word."
+
+Von Ritz led the way out of doors and between the tables and trellises
+of the garden until he came upon a spot which seemed to promise the
+greatest possible degree of privacy. There he stopped and stood looking
+straight ahead of him.
+
+"All that I now tell you, Mr. Benton"--his voice was even and polite to
+a nicety, yet distinctly icy--"is of course a message from the King."
+
+"Meaning," Benton smiled with polite indifference, "that your personal
+communications with me would be few?"
+
+"Meaning," corrected Von Ritz gravely, "that in His Majesty's affairs, I
+speak only on His Majesty's authority."
+
+"Colonel, I am at your service."
+
+"In the first place," began the Galavian at last, "His Majesty wished me
+to explain why he has presumed on your further assistance. You are the
+only man outside Galavia who understands--and whom the King may
+implicitly trust, trust even with the safety of Her Majesty, the
+Queen."
+
+"You will convey to the King my appreciation of his confidence."
+Somehow, between the American and this emissary of Karyl, there could
+never be any attitude other than that of the utmost formality.
+
+Von Ritz sketched the situation.
+
+"It is important that the world should not know of Her Majesty's
+departure. It would be an admission to the conspirators that the King
+feels his weakness, and would invite attack. For this reason she could
+not leave in the ordinary way. Fortunately, it is not difficult for Her
+Majesty to escape recognition. She is perhaps the one Queen in Europe
+whose published portraits would not make it impossible for her to go
+unknown through the cities of the Continent. Her prejudice against
+photographs has given her that immunity. She might walk through Paris
+unrecognized."
+
+Benton looked narrowly at Von Ritz. "How much does she know of the
+truth?"
+
+"Absolutely nothing. She has been persuaded to regard the truancy as a
+break in the routine of Court life, which--" Von Ritz hesitated, then
+went on doggedly--"which she finds distasteful. She does not even know
+that the Duke is free. That is as closely guarded a secret as the fact
+that he was being held under duress."
+
+The soldier paused, then went on. "The King has told Her Majesty that he
+hopes to join her on your yacht within a few days. You will please
+encourage that fiction. In point of fact," with a gesture of despair,
+"if His Majesty were to leave now he would never return, and if he
+remains now he may never again leave. I must myself hasten back."
+
+The two men went at some length over the details of the situation. It
+was agreed that the simple name of a town received by wireless should be
+a signal upon which the _Isis_ would proceed with all possible haste to
+the place designated. If the necessity should arise for Karyl's leaving
+Galavia, he might in this way take refuge on the yacht. This, explained
+Von Ritz, was only the final precaution of preparing for every exigency.
+His Majesty was determined not to leave his city alive, until he could
+leave it in the full security of his established government.
+
+The King also made another request. If Blanco could be spared and would
+consent to come to Puntal, his proven ability, together with his
+understanding of the language and the fact that he was not generally
+known in Puntal, would give him untold value. All the government's
+secret agents were either under suspicion of treason or too well known
+to the conspirators to be of great avail. If Blanco agreed to come, he
+might return with Von Ritz, or follow him at once and await instructions
+at his hotel, using care to avoid the semblance of open communication
+with the Palace.
+
+On his return to the parlors, Cara presented Benton to her
+ladies-in-waiting, the Countess Fernandez and the Countess Jaurez, who
+were to travel as Miss Carstow's aunts.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When there is a three-quarter moon and an atmosphere as subtle as
+perfume; when the walls of the city lose their ragged lines and melt
+into soft shadow shapes, relieved here and there by lights which the
+waters mirror, night and the Bay of Naples are not bad. Then the small
+boats which bob alongside are filled with picturesque beggars raising
+huge bunches of violets on bamboo poles to the deck rails, and the
+mingling of singing voices with guitars sets it all to music.
+
+On the forward deck Benton stood leaning on the rail and looking toward
+the city. At his side was Cara Carstow. She was silent, but she shook
+her head, and the man's solicitous scrutiny caught the deepening
+thought-furrow between her eyes, and the twitching of her fingers.
+
+He bent forward and spoke softly. "Cara, what is it?" She looked up and
+smiled. "I was remembering that I stood just here, once before," she
+said.
+
+"Do you think," he asked quietly, "that there has been a moment since
+then that I have not remembered it? That night you belonged to me and I
+to you."
+
+"I guess," she said rather wearily, "we don't any of us belong to
+ourselves or to those we love most. We just belong to Fate."
+
+"Cara!" He gripped the rail tightly and his words fell evenly. "Over
+there in America, you admitted to me that you loved me. That was when
+you were not yet Queen of Galavia." He brought himself up with a sudden
+halt. She looked up as frankly as a child.
+
+"I didn't admit it," she said. "We only admit things against our will,
+don't we? I told you gladly."
+
+"And now--!" He held his breath as he looked into her eyes.
+
+"Now I am the Queen of a hideous little Kingdom," she shuddered. "It
+wouldn't do for me to say it now, would it?"
+
+"Oh!" The man leaned again heavily on the rail. The monosyllable was
+eloquent. Impulsively she bent toward him, then caught herself. For a
+moment she looked out at the water undulating under the moon like
+mother-of-pearl on a waving fan. "But it was all right to say I loved
+you then," she went on reflectively, after a pause. "I had a perfect
+right then to tell you that I loved you better than all the small total
+of the world beside, and--" her voice faltered for a moment--"and," with
+a musical laugh, she illogically added, "I have nothing to take back of
+what I then said, though of course I can't ever say it again."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+THE SENTRY BOX ANSWERS THE KING'S QUERY
+
+
+Several days later, Blanco arrived in Puntal shortly after the lazy noon
+hour.
+
+Out of disconnected fragments of fact and memory he had evolved a
+theory. It was a theory as yet immature and half-baked, but one upon
+which he resolved to act, trusting to the lucky outcome of subsequent
+events for the filling in of many gaps, and the making good of many
+deficiencies.
+
+Among the shreds of fragmentary information which Manuel had previously
+stored away in his memory was the fact that one José Reebeler was a
+capitalist. This was not exclusive information. Every guide and casual
+acquaintance hastened to sing for the newcomer the saga of Reebeler's
+importance. One was informed that this magnate owned the three tourist
+hotels and their acres of vine-covered gardens; that he controlled the
+half-humorous pretense of a street-railway company and that even the
+huge, dominating rock upon which perched the pavilions and casino of the
+Strangers' Club was his property. Still more significant, to Blanco's
+reasoning, was the fact that Reebeler, though Puntal-born, was of
+British parentage and that over his house, in the _Ruo do Consilhiero_,
+floated both British and American flags, while the double coat-of-arms
+above his balcony proclaimed him the consular agent of both governments.
+Here, reasoned Blanco, was a man shielded behind the devices of two
+nations, neither of which was engaged in petty Mediterranean intrigue.
+He would be the last man in Puntal to challenge a suspicious glance from
+the Palace, yet as a man of moneyed enterprise his wish for concessions
+might well give a political coloring to his thoughts. Somewhere he had
+heard that the Strangers' Club aspired to the establishment of a
+gambling Mecca which should rival Monte Carlo in magnitude and that the
+present impediment was the frown of the government upon such a wholesale
+gambling enterprise. It was quite unlikely that the Delgado government
+would discourage a syndicate which could turn a munificent revenue into
+its taxing coffers.
+
+Through a shaded courtyard where a small fountain tinkled, Blanco
+strolled to the Consular office and rapped on the door. He was conducted
+by a native servant to an inner room. Here, while a great blue-bottle
+fly droned and thumped, Reebeler, a heavy Briton with mild eyes,
+sprawled his length in a wicker chair and poured brandy and soda. First
+Blanco represented himself as an adoptive American, touring the world
+and interested in natural resources. When his host had exhausted the
+subject of the wine-grower's battle against the ravages of "_oidium
+Tuckeri_" and "_phyloxera_," Blanco picked up a stick of sealing-wax
+from the table and commenced toying with it in a manner of aimlessness.
+He struck match after match and melted pellet after pellet of wax, then
+absently he took from his pocket a gold seal-ring and made, with its
+shield, several impressions on the wax. Reebeler's eyes were half-closed
+as he gazed vacantly at the pigeons cooing and strutting in his
+courtyard.
+
+"See, I have at last got a good impression." The Spaniard idly tossed
+over the scrap of paper upon which he had stamped a half-dozen of Louis
+Delgado's crests from the die of the Comptessa Astaride's ring.
+
+The Consul took the fragment of paper with the manner of one forced by
+politeness to assume an interest in trivialities which bore him.
+
+"See how clearly the device of His Grace stands out in the last
+impression," casually suggested Blanco, then with eyes narrowly bent on
+the other he saw the astonished start as his vis-a-vis realized what
+device had been imprinted on the paper. It was the sign for which he had
+played. When Reebeler's eyes came up questioningly to his own, he, too,
+was looking off through the raised window where the limp curtain barely
+trembled in the light breeze.
+
+"The ring is interesting," suggested the Consul.
+
+"The arms seem to be those of a family of Galavia which is connected
+with Royalty. Did you pick it up in a curio shop? If so, some servant
+must have stolen it."
+
+Blanco stood up. "We waste time fencing, _Señor_ Reebeler," he said,
+"His Grace, Louis Delgado, was held captive by the King until several
+days ago. He then escaped. That escape has been kept secret by the King.
+Only men in the Duke's confidence know of it. I am in the service of His
+Grace and I report to you. In these times we do not carry signed letters
+of introduction--those of us at least who are not protected behind the
+insignia of Consular office."
+
+There was a long silence. Reebeler, under the influence of brandy and
+perplexity, breathed heavily. Blanco poured from a squat bottle and
+watched the soda bubble in the glass.
+
+Finally the Consul inquired with a show of indifference: "Why do you
+assume that I know anything of this matter?"
+
+Blanco laughed. "I have already told you that I come from His Grace.
+Naturally His Grace knew to whom to commend me. I have frankly given
+myself into your hands by declaring my sentiments. On the other hand,
+you decline a similar confidence. You are discreet." He waved his hand.
+"_Adios_."
+
+"Wait." The Consul stopped him at the door. He paused, cleared his
+throat and then abruptly suggested: "Suppose you return to-morrow at
+six."
+
+The Spaniard bowed. "I only wish you to test me, _Señor_."
+
+That evening Blanco knew that he was being shadowed. The next day he had
+the same sense of being incessantly watched. This was a thing which he
+had expected and for which he was prepared. Promptly at six o'clock he
+returned to the _Rue do Consilhiero_.
+
+He knew that his greatest danger lay in the possibility of communication
+by the conspirators with the Duke or the Countess, but he had been
+assured that Marie Astaride was in Cairo and it could safely be assumed
+that Delgado would return to Galavia only at the psychological moment.
+If either of these assumptions were false Louis would, of course,
+recognize the description of his kidnapper. The Countess would connect
+the episode of the ring with the former checkmating of her plans. At all
+events, he must chance those possibilities.
+
+This time the Consulate was discreetly shut in by drawn jealousies.
+Within, beside Reebeler himself, were a number of men, all of whom
+narrowly scrutinized the newcomer. Those who were not in uniform
+carried themselves with a cocky smartness that belied their civilian
+clothes. The man from Cadiz returned their gaze with the same
+imperturbable steadiness and the same concealed wariness which he had
+employed when, in the _Plaza de Toros_, he awaited the charge of the
+bull.
+
+For a time they allowed him to stand in silence under the embarrassing
+batteries of their eyes, then an elderly officer assumed the position of
+spokesman.
+
+"If you are a spy your experience will be brief," he announced.
+
+Blanco smiled.
+
+"That is as it should be, _Señor_. Spies are not entitled to an old
+age."
+
+"We are going to test you," continued the officer. "We have need of men
+of courage. If, as you claim, the Duke sent you, he must have done so
+because he regarded you as available. If you prove trustworthy, all
+right. If not, it is your misfortune, because in the place where we mean
+to use you you will have no opportunity to betray us, and a very
+excellent opportunity of meeting death. We cannot now communicate with
+His Grace for corroboration, so we shall let you prove yourself. You
+seem to bear no message from the Duke. That has the smell of suspicion."
+
+"On the contrary," retorted the Spaniard, "the Duke believed that a man
+who was a stranger might prove of value. I was to take my instructions
+from you."
+
+Blanco wondered vaguely what the future held for him. Evidently their
+acceptance of his services was to bear a close resemblance to
+imprisonment. He could see in the programme small opportunity to serve
+the King. His instructions had been to win into their confidence and do
+what he could.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Two weeks later, in the small garden giving off from the King's private
+apartments, and perched half-way up the buttressed side of the rock on
+which sat the Palace, Karyl impatiently awaited the coming of Colonel
+Von Ritz. Below he could hear a brass band in the Botanical Gardens and
+out in the bay a German war-ship, decorated for a dance, blazed like a
+set piece in a pyrotechnic display.
+
+There was peace, summer, perfume, in the moonlit air and Karyl smiled
+ironically as he reflected that even the bodyguard so carefully selected
+by Von Ritz might at any moment enter the place and raise the shout of
+"Long live King Louis!"
+
+Leaning over the parapet, he could see one of his fantastically
+uniformed soldiery pacing back and forth before a sentry-box, his musket
+jauntily shouldered, and a bayonet glinting at his belt. Karyl stood
+looking, and his lips curled skeptically as he wondered whether the man
+would repel or admit assassins.
+
+Somewhat wearily the King turned and leaned on the stone coping of the
+outer wall. He was at one end where a shadow cloaked him, but he lighted
+a cigarette and the match that flared up threw an orange-red light on
+his face, showing eyes which were lusterless. For a few moments he held
+the match in his hollowed palms, coaxing its blaze in the breeze. Before
+it had burned out there came a sharp report and Karyl heard the spat of
+flattening lead on the masonry at his back. The echo rattled along the
+rocky side of the hill. One of the sentry-boxes had answered his unasked
+question of loyalty.
+
+He waited. There was no rush of feet. No medley of anxiously inquiring
+voices. Others had heard the report, of course, yet no one hastened to
+inquire and investigate. The King, pacing farther back where his
+silhouette was less clearly defined, laughed again, very bitterly.
+
+Finally Von Ritz came. "It seems that we can rely on no one," he said.
+"The Palace Guard had been picked from the few in whom I still believed.
+I had hoped there was a trustworthy remnant."
+
+"One of them has just tried a shot at me with one of my own muskets."
+The King spoke impersonally as though the matter bore only on the
+psychic question of trusting men. "The spot is there on the wall." Then
+he added with bitter whimsicality: "It seems to me, Colonel, that we
+have either very poor marksmen in our service, or else we supply them
+with very poor rifles."
+
+For a moment Von Ritz almost smiled. "I was passing the point as he
+touched the trigger, Your Majesty," he replied with calmness. "I will
+personally vouch for his future harmlessness."
+
+The lighted door, at the same moment, framed the figure of an aide.
+"Your Majesty," he said with a bow, "Monsieur Jusseret prays a brief
+audience."
+
+Karyl turned to Von Ritz, his brows arching interrogation. In answer the
+Colonel wheeled and addressed the officer, who waited statuesquely: "His
+Majesty will not receive Monsieur Jusseret. Any matters of interest to
+France will receive His Majesty's attention when they reach him through
+France's properly accredited ambassador."
+
+Yet five minutes later, Jusseret, escorted by several officers in the
+Galavian uniform, entered the garden through the door of the King's
+private suite. At the monstrous insolence of this forbidden invasion of
+Karyl's privacy, Von Ritz stepped forward. His voice was even colder
+than usual with the chill of mortal fury.
+
+"You have evidently misunderstood. The King declined to receive you--"
+he began.
+
+Karyl turned his head and looked curiously on. The keen, dissipated eyes
+of the sub-rosa diplomat twinkled humorously. For a moment the thin lips
+twisted into a wry smile.
+
+"The King is hardly in a position that warrants declining to receive
+me," he announced with an ironically ceremonious bow to Karyl. He was
+imperturbable and impeccable from his patent-leather pumps to the Legion
+of Honor ribbon in his lapel.
+
+"I offer the King an opportunity to abdicate his throne--and retain his
+liberty. Not only do I offer him his liberty, but also such an income as
+will make the cafés of Paris possible, and the society of other
+gentlemen who are also--well, let us say retired Royalties. I do this in
+the capacity of a private friend of the Grand Duke Louis Delgado." His
+smile was bland, suave, undisturbed.
+
+Von Ritz took a step forward.
+
+"Escort Monsieur Jusseret to the Palace gates!" he commanded, his eyes
+blazing on the Galavian officers. "The persons of even secret
+Ambassadors are sacred--otherwise--" His voice failed him.
+
+The officers cringed back under his glance, but stood supine and
+inactive.
+
+Karyl waited with a cold smile on his lips. His face was pale but there
+was no touch of fear in the expression. For a brief psychological moment
+there was absolute silence, then the Frenchman spoke again. "Gentlemen,
+you are my prisoners." Turning to the Colonel, he added: "You have clung
+to the waning dynasty, Von Ritz, until it fell, but your sword may still
+find service in Galavia. I offer you the opportunity. We have often
+crossed wits. Now, for the first time, I win--and offer amnesty."
+
+For a moment Von Ritz stood white and trembling with rage, then with his
+open hand he struck the smiling face that seemed to float tauntingly
+before his eyes, and drawing his sword, stepped between the King and the
+suddenly concentrated group of officers who moved frontward with a
+single accord, hands on swords. They spread from a group into a line,
+and the line quickly closed in a circle around the King and the one man
+who remained loyal.
+
+Karyl was himself unarmed. He raised a restraining hand to Von Ritz's
+shoulder, but before he could speak his head sagged forward under the
+impact of some sudden shock--some blow from behind--and things went dark
+about him as he crumpled to his knees and fell.
+
+Von Ritz, struggling desperately with a broken blade in his hand was
+slowly overwhelmed by seeming swarms of men. Like a tiger caught in a
+net, his ferocity gradually waned until, bleeding from scratch-wounds
+in a half-dozen places, he felt himself sinking into a haze. His useless
+sword-hilt fell with a clatter to the tiles. As his arms were pinioned
+by several of his captors, he was dreamily aware that music still
+floated up from the Botanical Gardens and the German man-of-war. Nearer
+at hand, Von Ritz heard--or perhaps dreamed through his stupor that he
+heard--a voice exclaiming: "Long live King Louis!"
+
+There had been no noise which could have penetrated beyond the King's
+suite. Less than ten minutes had elapsed since the sentinel had been
+pacing below. Jusseret, passing unostentatiously out through the Palace
+gate, glanced at his watch and smiled. It had been excellently managed.
+
+Later, Karyl recovered consciousness to find things little changed. He
+was lying on a leather couch in his own rooms. The windows on the small
+garden still stood open and the moon, riding farther down the west,
+bathed the outer world in shimmer of silver, but at each door stood a
+sentinel.
+
+Karyl remembered that during Louis Delgado's recent captivity he had
+fared in precisely the same manner, neither better nor worse.
+
+The King rose, still a trifle unsteady from the blow he had received,
+and went out into the garden. There was no effort on the part of the
+saluting soldier to halt him, and once outside he realized why this
+latitude was allowed him. In addition to the man at the door, a second
+walked back and forth by the outer wall. As Karyl stepped into the
+moonlight this man, himself in the shadow, saluted as his fellow had
+done.
+
+"I have the honor to command the guard, Your Grace," said the man in a
+respectful voice. "It is by the order of His Majesty, King Louis."
+Something in the enunciation puzzled Karyl with a hint of the familiar.
+
+"Why do you remain outside?" he asked.
+
+"Over this wall, any comparatively agile man might make his way to the
+beach, if he succeeded in passing the muskets of the sentry-boxes--and
+there are boats at the water's edge," explained the soldier with a short
+laugh. "I am responsible for the guard, so I keep this post myself. I
+believe myself incorruptible and men with thrones at stake might make
+tempting offers."
+
+Karyl smiled. "What would you regard as a tempting offer?" he suggested.
+
+For answer the man came into the light and lifted his cap. The King
+looked into the dark eyes of Manuel Blanco. "I won into their confidence
+by the hardest," he explained in a lowered tone, "but after that, I had
+no opportunity to leave them or communicate with you. This was all I
+could do. As it is, I shall be recognized as soon as the Duke arrives."
+
+Blanco raised his voice again in casual conversation and beckoned to the
+sentinel at the door. When the man approached the Spaniard pointed over
+the wall. "Do you see that rock? Is that a figure crouching behind its
+shelter?" he demanded. As the man leaned forward, Manuel suddenly struck
+him heavily at the back of the neck with a loose stone caught up from
+the masonry's coping. The soldier dropped without a sound.
+
+"Now, Your Majesty, we must risk it down the rock," prompted the man
+from Cadiz, in hurried, low-pitched words. "Moments are invaluable....
+It is only while I command the guard that there is a chance of your
+escape.... An officer may come at any instant on a round of
+inspection--my discovery as the Duke's kidnapper is a matter of
+minutes.... I have been watched and tested in a hundred ways; it was
+only to-day that I convinced them of my fanatic zeal."
+
+Blanco hurriedly gave his cap and cape to the King, donning himself the
+blouse of Karyl's undress uniform. Then the two crept cautiously down
+the rifted face of the cliff, holding the shadow of the crevices. One
+sentry-box they passed safely, and finally they edged by the second
+unnoticed. They had negotiated the hundred feet of descent and stood
+pressed against the bottom, hugging the black shadow. They were waiting
+an opportunity to slip across a narrow sliver of intervening moonlight
+to the beach and the boat which lay at the water's edge.
+
+Occasional lazy clouds drifted across the sky. The two refugees, goaded
+by the realization that every wasted second cut their desperate hope
+more and more to a vanishing point, watched the fleecy scraps of mist
+skim by the moon afar off without veiling its face. Then for a short
+moment a shred of silver-tipped cloud cut off the radiance. Blanco
+seized the King's arm in a wordless signal. Karyl and the bull-fighter
+raced across to the boat that lay at the water's edge. In a moment more
+it was afloat and they were at the oars. The moon emerged and at the
+same instant an outcry came from above. The musket of the man in the
+lower sentry-box barked with a blatant reverberation. One of the figures
+in the boat drooped forward and sagged limply over his oars. The other
+only redoubled his efforts. And then again, like the curtain of a
+theater, a cloud dropped downward and quenched the moon and the sea and
+the rock in impartial obscurity.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+"SCARABS OF A DEAD DYNASTY"
+
+
+Since the anchor had been weighed at Naples, the days had passed
+uneventfully for the indolently cruising _Isis_ with no word from
+Galavia. But at last the operator caught his call and made ready to
+receive. The message consisted of one word, and the word was "Cairo."
+
+Cara, with no suspicion of what was transpiring in Puntal, beguiled by
+the spell of smooth seas and _dolce-far-niente_ softness of sky, was
+once more the frank and charming companion of the American days.
+
+The single word of the Marconigram had left the American in perplexity.
+Evidently either Karyl or Von Ritz was to meet them at Cairo. Probably
+Cairo instead of Alexandria had been designated because the King had
+taken into consideration the possible danger from the plague at the
+seaport. He told Cara only that Karyl would join the vacation party
+there and kept to himself the reservation that his coming probably meant
+disaster. Yet when they reached Cairo there was no news awaiting them.
+
+It was the night of a confetti fête at Shephard's Hotel. Among the trees
+of the gardens were ropes of lights and the soft color-spots of Chinese
+lanterns. Branches glittered with incandescent fruit of brilliant
+colors. Flags hung between the fronds of the palms and the plumes of the
+acacias, and among the pleasure-seekers from East and West of Suez fell
+pelting showers of confetti.
+
+After dinner Cara and the ladies of her party had withdrawn to their
+rooms to prepare for the gay warfare of the gardens. Benton, awaiting
+them in the rotunda, lounged on one of the low divans which circle the
+walls of the octagonal chamber, beneath carved lattices and Moorish
+panels; a cigarette between his fingers and a small cup of black coffee
+on the low tabouret at his elbow.
+
+The place invited lazy ease, and Benton was as indolent among his
+cushions as the spirit of brooding Egypt, but his eyes, watching the
+stairs down which she would come, remained alert.
+
+Hearing his name called in a voice which rang familiarly, he glanced up
+to recognize the smiling face of young Harcourt, his chance acquaintance
+of Capri. He set down the small Turkish cup and rose.
+
+"Come back to the bar and fortify yourself against the thin red line of
+British soldiery out there in the gardens. You can get a ripping
+highball for eight _piastres_," laughed the newcomer. But Benton
+declined.
+
+"I am waiting for ladies," he explained. "I'll see you again."
+
+"Sure you will." Harcourt paused. "I dash up the Nile in the morning,
+going to do Karnak and Luxor--you know, the usual stunt. Been busy all
+day buying scarabs and mummied cats, but I want to see you sometime
+to-night. By the way, I've heard something--"
+
+"All right. See you later." Benton spoke hurriedly, for he had caught
+the flash of a slender figure in white on the stairs.
+
+In the war of the confetti, man makes war on woman and woman on man,
+while over the field reigns a universal and democratic acquaintanceship.
+
+Cara was on vacation, and a child--bent on forgetting that to-morrow
+must come. It was characteristic of her that she should enter into the
+spirit of the occasion with all the abandon it suggested.
+
+Benton stood by as she gradually gave ground before the attacks of a
+stout, gray-templed Briton, a General of the Army of Occupation. She
+fought gallantly, but he stood doggedly before her handfuls of confetti,
+shaking the paper chips out of his eyes and mustache like some
+invincible old St. Bernard, and her slender Mandarin-coated figure
+retreated slowly before his red and medal-decked jacket.
+
+"Watch out!" cried Benton, who followed her retreat, forbidden by the
+rules of warfare from giving aid, other than counsel, "The British Army
+is putting you in a bad strategic position."
+
+She had retreated across the flower-beds and stood with her back to the
+rim of the fountain. Her box of confetti was empty and Benton also was
+without ordnance supplies.
+
+Young Harcourt suddenly stepped forward from the crowd.
+
+"Here!" he cried with a smile of frank worship, as he tendered a fresh
+box of confetti. "Take this and remember Bunker Hill!"
+
+The British officer bowed.
+
+"I surrender," he said, "because you violate the rules of war. Your
+confetti is not deadly and your tactics are mediocre, but your eyes use
+lyddite."
+
+Inside Cara went to her room to wrestle with the tiny chips of
+multi-colored paper that covered her and filled her hair. In the hall,
+Harcourt came again to Benton.
+
+"By Jove, she is a wonder," he said. Then he slipped his arm through
+Benton's and led him aside. The American followed supinely.
+
+"Benton, do you remember the talk we had about Romance?"
+
+Benton looked quickly up to forestall any possible personality to which
+he might object, but Harcourt continued.
+
+"Do you know that chap, Martin--he doesn't call himself Browne now--has
+turned up again? He's been here. Not ragged this time, but well groomed
+and in high feather. To-day he left to go back to Galavia."
+
+"Back to Galavia?" Benton repeated the words in astonishment. "What do
+you mean?"
+
+Harcourt laughed. "The scales have turned and his Grand Duke is to be
+King after all."
+
+Benton seized the boy by the elbow and steered him into one of the empty
+writing-rooms.
+
+"Now, for God's sake, what do you mean?" he demanded.
+
+"That's all," replied the young tourist. "They've switched Kings. Oh, it
+was so quietly done that the people of the city of Puntal don't know yet
+it's happened. The King died suddenly and Louis will ascend his throne."
+
+"The King died suddenly!" Benton echoed the words blankly. "I don't
+understand."
+
+"Neither do I. But Martin said the King was taken prisoner and tried to
+escape. He was shot."
+
+"How did Martin know?" asked Benton slowly, trying to realize the full
+import of the boy's chatter.
+
+"The news hasn't reached here, generally speaking. He said that the
+King's death has not even been made public there, but the Countess
+Astaride has been stopping here. Martin himself was in her party and he
+helped her to decipher the news from the Duke's code-telegram." He
+paused. "However," he added, "that may not interest you. The story
+probably bored you at first, but having told you the original tale, I
+had to add the sequel. What I really wanted to ask you, is to present me
+to the wonderful American girl. You will, won't you?"
+
+Benton's back was turned to the window. He wiped his forehead with his
+handkerchief and stared at nothing.
+
+"You will, won't you?" repeated the boy.
+
+"Oh, yes, of course," Benton replied mechanically. "I shall ask
+permission to do so."
+
+Outside on the terraced veranda, where one sips tea and overlooks one of
+the most varied human tides that flows through any street of the world,
+Benton and Cara sat at a table near the edge--the man wondering how he
+could tell her. Fakirs with spangled shawls from Assouit, bead
+necklaces, ebony walking-sticks, scarabs and souvenir postcards jostled
+on the sidewalk to pass their wares over the railing. Fat Arab guides
+with red fezes and the noisy jargon of half-mastered French and English
+discussed to-morrow's journeys with industrious globe-trotters.
+
+On the tiles squatted a juggler from India. Under his white turban his
+glittering, beady eyes appraised the generosity of his audience as he
+arranged his flat baskets, his live rabbits and his hooded cobras for an
+exhibition of mercenary magic.
+
+Along the street, heralded with tom-toms, came a procession of lurching
+camels, jogging donkeys, rattling carriages, acrobats leading dog-faced
+apes and trailing Arabs in fezes--the pomp and pageantry of a pilgrim
+returning from Mecca. Motors, victorias, detachments of cavalry swept by
+in unbroken and spectacular show.
+
+Benton sat stiffly with his jaw muscles tightly drawn and his eyes
+dazed, looking at the girl across the table.
+
+She turned from the street, eyes still sparkling with the reflected
+variety of the picture that hodge-podged Occident and Orient,
+telescoping the dead ages with to-day.
+
+"Oh, I love things so," she laughed. "I'm as foolish as a child about
+things that are new."
+
+With another glance at the shifting tide, she added seriously: "And
+every silly Oriental of them all is free to go where he pleases--to do
+what he pleases. I would give everything for freedom, and they have
+it--and don't value it!"
+
+Then she saw the hard strain of his face. Slowly her own eyes lost the
+glow of pleasurable interest and saddened with the realization of being
+barred back from life.
+
+The man bent forward. His fingers tightened on the edge of the table
+with a clutch which drove the blood back under his nails. It was a hard
+fight to retain his self-control. His question broke from him in a low,
+almost savage voice.
+
+"Cara!" he demanded. "Cara, is there any price too high to pay for
+happiness?"
+
+"What do you mean?" The intensity of his eyes held hers, and for a
+moment she feared for his reason. Her own question was low and
+steadying, but he answered in an unnatural voice.
+
+"I hardly know--perhaps I have less right to speak now than
+ever--perhaps more. I don't know, I only know that I love you--and that
+the world seems reeling."
+
+Something caught in his throat.
+
+"I'm a cur to talk of it now. I want to think of--of--something else. I
+ought to think only what a splendid sort he was--but I can realize only
+one thing--I love you."
+
+"Only one thing," she repeated softly. Then as she looked again into the
+feverishly bright eyes under his scowl, the meaning which lay back of
+his words broke suddenly upon her.
+
+"_Was_!" she echoed in startled comprehension. "_Was_!--did you say
+was?"
+
+The man remained silent.
+
+"You mean that--?" she said the three words very slowly and stopped,
+unable to go on.
+
+"You mean--that--he--?" With a strong effort she added the one word,
+then gave up the effort to shape the question. Her hand closed
+convulsively.
+
+Benton slowly nodded his head. The girl leaned forward toward him. Her
+lips parted, her eyes widened.
+
+The next instant they were misty with tears. Not hypocritical tears for
+an unloved husband, but sincere tears for a generous friend.
+
+"Delgado escaped," he explained simply. "Karyl was captured." Again he
+spoke in few words. It seemed that he could not manage long sentences.
+"Then he tried to escape," he added.
+
+She pressed her fingers to her temples, and leaned forward, speaking
+rapidly in a half-whisper that sometimes broke.
+
+"Oh, it's not fair! It's not fair! I want to think only how splendid he
+was--how unselfish--how brave! I want to think of him always as he
+deserves, lovingly, fondly--and I've got to remember forever how little
+I could give him in return!"
+
+"Yes, I guess he was the whitest man--" Benton stopped, then blurted out
+like a boy. "Oh, what's the use of my sitting here eulogizing him. I
+guess he doesn't need my praises. I guess he can stand on his own
+record."
+
+"It's monstrous!" she said, and then she, too, fell back on silence.
+
+Suddenly she rose to her feet, carried one hand to her heart and swayed
+uncertainly for a moment, steadying herself with one hand on the table.
+
+The man turned, following her half-hypnotic gaze, in time to see Colonel
+Von Ritz bending over her hand. With recognition, Benton started up,
+then his jaw dropped and, doubting his own sanity, he fell back into his
+chair and sat gazing with blank eyes.
+
+At Von Ritz's elbow stood Pagratide.
+
+Slowly Benton came to his feet, his ears ringing. Then as Karyl turned
+from the girl and held out his hand to him, the American heard, as one
+listening through the roaring of a fever, some question about affairs in
+Galavia.
+
+He heard Karyl answer, and though the words seemed to come from
+somewhere beyond Port Said, he recognized that the former King tried to
+speak in a matter-of-fact voice.
+
+"I have no Kingdom. Louis took it."
+
+Karyl had held out his left hand. The right was bound down in a sling.
+But these things were all vague to Benton because it seemed that the
+pilgrim's tom-toms were beating inside his brain, and beating out of
+time. He could see that Karyl's eyes also were weary and lusterless.
+
+Turning with an excuse for travel-stain to be removed, Karyl halted.
+
+"Benton," he said. There he fell silent. "Benton," he said again,
+forcing himself to speak in a voice not far from the breaking point,
+"Blanco--Blanco is dead."
+
+He turned on his heel and went into the hotel.
+
+Blanco dead! For a moment Benton felt an insane desire to rush after
+Karyl and demand his life for Blanco's. Some delirious accusation that
+this man cost him every dear thing in life seemed fighting for
+expression and reprisal, then he realized that the _toreador_ had won
+his way into Pagratide's affection as well as his own. Tears came to his
+eyes for an instant. He focused his gaze on a cigarette-shop across the
+street.
+
+"Lady!"
+
+A grinning Egyptian face, surmounted by a red fez, showed itself over
+the railing. The girl started violently and seemed for a moment on the
+edge of hysteria. She laughed unnaturally. Thus encouraged, the
+Bedouin's grin broadened until it radiated good-humor across the swarthy
+visage from cheek-bone to cheek-bone.
+
+"Nice scarabs, lady! Only five _piastres_--only one shilling," he
+spieled. "Scarabs of a dead dynasty. _Très antique_."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+IN WHICH KINGS AND COMMONERS DISCUSS LOVE
+
+
+In the gardens of the hotel, the paths lay ankle-deep in scattered
+confetti. Already the scores of lights were going out and those that
+remained shone on the wreckage of an entertainment ended.
+
+Cara had gone to her rooms. In his own, at a window commanding the
+garden, Benton sat in an attitude of lethargic dejection, staring down
+on the lingering illuminations. His brain still swirled. A dozen times
+he told himself that matters were precisely as they had been; that the
+developments of the evening had brought no change, save a momentary
+belief in a mistaken rumor and a few wild dreams. When he had waited in
+the rotunda for Cara, he had known Karyl to be living. He knew it now,
+yet it seemed as though his life-rival had died and come again to life.
+It seemed, too, as though his own prison doors had swung open, and while
+he stood on the free threshold had slammed inward upon him, sweeping him
+back, broken and bruised with their clanging momentum.
+
+To-morrow he must go away.
+
+Benton looked at his watch. It was after four o'clock.
+
+Then a knock came on the door. Benton did not respond. He feared that
+young Harcourt, belated and flushed with brandy-acid-soda, might have
+seen the light of his transom and paused for gossip. The thought he
+could not endure. Again he heard and ignored the knock, then the door
+opened slowly, and turning his head, he recognized Karyl on his
+threshold.
+
+Just at that moment the American could not have spoken. He had come to a
+point of pent-up emotion which can move only by breaking dams. He
+pointed to a chair, but Karyl shook his head.
+
+For a while neither spoke. Karyl's hair was rumpled; his eyes darkly
+ringed, and the line of his lips close set. Benton glanced out of his
+window. Across the gardens the wall was growing blanker, as lighted
+panes fell dark. One window, which he knew was Cara's, still showed a
+parallelogram of light behind its drawn shade. Karyl in passing followed
+the glance. He, too, recognized the window.
+
+At last the Galavian spoke.
+
+"Can you spare me a half-hour?"
+
+Benton nodded. He would have preferred any other time. He needed
+opportunity for self-collection.
+
+Again Karyl spoke.
+
+"Benton, I might as well be brief. There are two of us. In this world
+there is room for only one. One of us is an interloper."
+
+The American felt the blood rush to his face; he felt it pound at the
+back of his eyeballs, at the base of his brain. An instinct of fury,
+which was only half-sane, flooded him. Red spots danced before his eyes.
+The other had spoken slowly, almost gently, yet he could read only
+challenge in the words, and the challenge was one he hungered to accept.
+
+He made a tremendous effort for self-mastery and rose slowly, turning a
+white face on his visitor.
+
+"You told me," he said, enunciating each word with distinct
+deliberateness, "that you would fight me, when your throne freed you.
+You begin promptly. I am here, but--"
+
+"I think you misunderstand me," interrupted Karyl.
+
+"But," went on Benton, ignoring the interruption, "neither of us is free
+to fight. If we were, Pagratide, you may guess how gladly I'd put it to
+the issue. Good God, man, what could I lose?"
+
+"Wait," said the late King of Galavia. "I have come here to talk with
+you, Benton, in a way which is unspeakably hard. Can you not make the
+same effort to lay aside passion that I am making?"
+
+The American turned and paced the floor.
+
+For a moment more there was the same embarrassed silence between them,
+then the Galavian continued, measuring his words, speaking with
+desperately studied effort to eliminate the feeling that struggled to
+the surface.
+
+"You love my wife."
+
+"And shall," replied the American in the same calculated, colorless
+voice, "while I live."
+
+"I, too," said Pagratide. "Therefore we must talk."
+
+"Wait." Benton raised a hand. "If we are to talk at all along these
+lines, Pagratide, there is only one way in which it can be done."
+
+"And that is what?"
+
+"That each of us, throughout, talks with only one thought in mind: her
+happiness; that one strip aside all conventions and talk as two utterly
+naked souls might talk."
+
+"Of course," said Karyl simply. "Otherwise I should not have suggested
+it."
+
+"Then," began Benton, "up to this point we are agreed."
+
+The King, despite his pallor, smiled.
+
+"I'm afraid you still don't understand me. I haven't come to murder you,
+or to invite murder, Benton. It would not help."
+
+"You have just said that one of us is an interloper. Presumably you have
+come to decide which one it is."
+
+Karyl shook his head.
+
+"Benton, that point has been decided. Not by you or me, but it is
+decided."
+
+"I don't understand you," admitted the American.
+
+His visitor studied the few remaining lights in the garden beneath.
+
+"I am no longer a King. I am an outcast. If I ever had a claim before
+God, it passed with my Crown. I could hold her now only by brutality. I
+told you I would free her and fight for her, but I saw her eyes
+to-night.... Benton, it is I who am the interloper!"
+
+No answer came to Benton's tongue. Pagratide did not seem to expect one.
+After a moment he went on, with the manner of one who had thought out
+what he was to say, and who compels himself to go through with the
+prepared recital.
+
+"If there is no throne, I must eliminate myself.... But for the time
+being I have given Von Ritz my parole.... The game is not yet quite
+played out.... He and Cara agree that I must play it to the end. After
+that there will be time to remedy mistakes." He paused.
+
+"Pagratide," said the American slowly, "you are talking wildly. At all
+events, while everything impossible has happened to us, I think we can,
+after all shake hands."
+
+Karyl extended his own.
+
+"I have spoken as I have," he went on, "because it was necessary to be
+frank. Meanwhile I must ask you to place me under yet another
+obligation. There is one safe place for her. Will you take us with you
+on the yacht, and cruise in unfrequented ports, until Von Ritz reports
+to me?"
+
+"Where is Von Ritz?"
+
+"Gone back to Alexandria. He still cherishes hopes of a restoration. He
+wishes to return to Galavia."
+
+"Can he return safely?"
+
+Karyl shrugged his shoulders. "His conduct can hardly be construed as a
+political offense. He will be under suspicion, but all Europe would
+resent any injury to Von Ritz."
+
+"The _Isis_ is, of course, at your command."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+In the same rooms where Karyl and his father had often consulted with
+Von Ritz on affairs of state, Louis Delgado sat in conference with a
+foreigner, who had no acknowledged position in the councils of any
+government, yet whose mind and execution had affected many. The
+foreigner was Monsieur Jusseret.
+
+"Why," began the new Monarch testily, "do you believe that there should
+be delay in proclaiming myself? I shall feel safer with the Crown
+actually upon my head."
+
+The Frenchman sat reflectively silent, his slim fingers spread, tip to
+tip, his elbows on the arms of the chair in which he lounged.
+
+"Your Majesty is not a fisherman?" he suavely inquired. Louis rose
+impatiently.
+
+"You know that I have no interest in such sports. Why do you ask?"
+
+"It is unfortunate," mused the Master Intriguer, "since if Your Majesty
+were, you would realize the inadvisability of an effort to land the game
+fish too abruptly when he takes the hook. Your Majesty, however,
+realizes that it is wiser to eat ripe fruit than green fruit."
+
+The King poured himself a glass of wine, which he gulped down nervously.
+
+"You speak in riddles--always in riddles. What is unripe? The blow is
+struck, I am in possession. What is to be gained by waiting?"
+
+Jusseret raised his brows.
+
+"What blow is struck, Your Majesty? You know and I know that you occupy
+the Palace. Europe in general supposes that you have been here for some
+time as the guest of Karyl. Europe does not yet officially know that
+Karyl has vacated the throne. The governments agreed to recognize you,
+but the governments relied upon your adequately disposing of your royal
+kinsman. Yet he is now at large."
+
+The Pretender wheeled suddenly on the calm gentleman sitting indolently
+in his chair. The Pretender's face paled.
+
+"Do you mean, Monsieur Jusseret, that after enticing me into this mad
+enterprise you now purpose to abandon me?" The coward's terror added
+excitement to the questioning voice.
+
+Jusseret smiled.
+
+"By no means," he assured. "But Your Majesty must now play your part. I
+merely counsel holding the reins of government lightly--as Regent--until
+it is logically advisable to grasp them tightly as King. Karyl escaped.
+The man shot proves to be an unknown who had changed coats with the
+King. Ostensibly, His late Majesty is traveling. You are his
+representative. Now, if His Majesty and the Queen should fail to return
+from their journeyings, your position would be stronger."
+
+Louis sank into a chair, deeply agitated. "I fear this man Von Ritz more
+deeply than Karyl."
+
+"Naturally," was Jusseret's dry comment. "But Your Majesty will leave
+Von Ritz alone. I also, should like to see him disposed of--but leave
+him alone, or you will incur Europe's displeasure."
+
+"What shall I do?" The question came in a note of plaintive
+helplessness.
+
+The Frenchman shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"If you ask my counsel, I should say send for one Martin. He has been
+of some service. He is a man of action. He is called the English Jackal.
+I should suggest--" He paused.
+
+"Yes, yes--you would suggest what?" eagerly prompted the new King.
+
+"Really, Your Majesty, you should act more promptly on hints. Diplomats
+cannot diagram their suggestions. I should suggest that the English
+Jackal also travel, with the understanding that if he should return to
+Galavia after the death of the late King and Queen--and that shortly--he
+may expect certain titles and recognition at Court, but if he returns
+before their death, he need expect nothing." Jusseret lighted a
+cigarette.
+
+The Pretender sat silent, frightened, vacillating.
+
+"And," went on Jusseret calmly, "there was one other suggestion which I
+shall make, if Your Majesty will permit me the liberty."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Touching Your Majesty's marriage--"
+
+"Yes--Marie is also in some hurry about that. What is the devilish
+haste? One can be married at any time."
+
+Monsieur Jusseret rose and began drawing on his gloves.
+
+"Of course if Your Majesty sees fit, a morganatic marriage with the
+Countess Astaride would be entirely advisable--but for the Queen of
+Galavia, Europe will insist on a stronger alliance; on a union with more
+royal blood."
+
+Louis came to his feet in astonishment.
+
+"You dare suggest that?" he exclaimed. "You, who have been her ally and
+used her aid!"
+
+"Pardon me--I suggest nothing. I repeat to Your Majesty, as the very
+humble mouthpiece of France, the sentiment of the governments, without
+whose recognition your dynasty can hardly stand."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+ABDUL SAID BEY EFFECTS A RESCUE
+
+
+Martin, tall and aggressively British, from the black silk tassel on his
+red fez to the battered puttees and brown boots that had once come out
+of Bond Street, stood watching the _Isis_ outlined against the opposite
+walls of the Yildiz Kiosk.
+
+Few pleasure-craft call at Constantinople.
+
+"If you had not, as usual, been so damned late"--he turned with a
+gesture of raw impatience to the heavy-faced _Osmanli_ at his side--"I
+could have pointed them out to you on Galata Bridge. As it is, they have
+returned to the yacht."
+
+"May Heaven never again thwart your wish with delay, Martin _Effendi_."
+The Turk spoke placidly, his oily voice soft as a benediction, "I was
+delayed by pigs, and sons of pigs! Your annoyance is my desolating
+sorrow, yet"--he waved his hand with a bland gesture--"I am but the
+servant of His Majesty, the Sultan--whom Allah preserve--and the
+official is frequently detained."
+
+"What is done, is done. _Bismillah_--no matter!" The Englishman curbed
+his annoyance and spoke as one resigned. "What now remains is this: We
+must see them, and you must learn to recognize them. You understand?"
+
+The other bowed in unperturbed assent.
+
+"All Europeans," he suggested, "dine at the Pera Palace Hotel--it is the
+Mecca of their hunger."
+
+To the white man's voice returned the ring of asperity. "And at the Pera
+Palace, we shall not only see, but be seen. Likewise unless we have a
+care in this enterprise, we shall not only eat, but be eaten. A man may
+stare at whom he chooses on Galata Bridge."
+
+"When I dine in a public place"--the _Osmanli_ smiled cunningly from the
+depths of small pig-like eyes--"I shield myself behind a screen. Thus
+may I observe unobserved."
+
+The sun had set, but the yellow after-glow still lingered in the sky
+behind Stamboul as the two men stood looking toward Galata Bridge, where
+their quarry had escaped them, and across the Golden Horn.
+
+A pyramid of domes, flanked by a pair of slender minarets, daintily
+proclaimed the Mosque Yeni-Djami against the fading amber. On Galata
+Bridge itself, the day-long tide of medleyed life was thinning. Where
+there had been an eddying current of turbans and _tarbooshes_,
+bespeaking all the tribes and styles which foregather at the meeting
+place of two Continents and two seas, there were now only the belated
+few.
+
+To the jaded imagination of Martin _Effendi_ and his companion, Abdul
+Said _Bey_, the falling of night over the quadruple city, smothering
+more than a million souls under a single blanket of blackness, made no
+appeal. They were watching a yacht.
+
+Over the Pera roofs swept flocks of crows to roost in their garden
+rookeries at the center of the town. Across the harbor water, now too
+gloomy to reveal its thousands of jelly-fish, drifted the complaining
+cries of the loons. Then as the occasional city lamps began to twinkle,
+making the darkness murkier by their inadequacy, there arose from the
+twisting ways of Pera, Galata and Stamboul the night howling of thirty
+thousand dogs.
+
+At length Martin held up the dial of his watch to the uncertain light.
+
+"I must be off," he announced. "Jusseret is waiting at the Pera Palace.
+Don't fail us at seven-thirty."
+
+The tireless features of Abdul Said _Bey_ once more shaped themselves
+into a deliberate smile. "Of a surety, _Effendi_. May your virtues ever
+find favor in the sight of Allah."
+
+For a moment the pig-like eyes followed the well-knit figure of the
+Englishman as it went swinging along the street. Then the Turk turned
+and lost himself in the darkness.
+
+The Pera Palace Hotel stands in the European quarter of the town. To its
+doors your steps are guided by a trail of shop signs in English, French,
+German and Greek, among which appear only occasional characters in the
+native Arabic.
+
+Almost immediately after Cara, Pagratide and Benton had seated
+themselves in the dining-room that evening, Arab servants secluded a
+corner table, close to their own, behind _mushrabieh_ screens. The party
+for whom this distinguished aloofness had been arranged made its
+entrance through an unseen door, but the voices indicated that several
+were at table there. The waiter who served this table apart might have
+testified that one was an Englishman, wearing in addition to European
+evening dress the native _tarboosh_, or fez. Also, that against his
+white shirt-front glittered the Star of Galavia. The second diner wore
+one of the many elaborate uniforms that signify Ottoman officialdom. His
+eyes were small and pig-like, and as he talked no feature or gesture at
+the table beyond escaped his appraising scrutiny.
+
+There was one other behind the _mushrabieh_ screens. The niceties of his
+dress were Parisian, punctilious, perfect. In his right lapel was the
+unostentatious button of the _Legion d'Honneur_.
+
+The Englishman spoke. "Much of your story, _Monsieur_ Jusseret, is
+familiar to me. It will, however, prove interesting _in toto_, I
+daresay, to our friend Abdul Said _Bey_, whom Allah preserve."
+
+There was a murmur of compliment from the Turk, adding his assurance of
+interest, and the Frenchman took up the thread of his narrative.
+
+"We supposed that Karyl was dead--the Throne of Galavia clear for
+Delgado. Alas, we were in error!" The speaker shook his head in deep
+regret, as, turning to Martin, he added:
+
+"It was a pardonable mistake. Let us hope the announcement was merely
+premature." He lifted his wine-glass with the air of one proposing a
+toast. "It becomes our duty to make that statement true. _Messieurs_,
+our success!"
+
+When the three glasses had been set down, the Englishman questioned:
+"How did it occur?"
+
+In the smooth manner of an after-dinner narrative, Jusseret explained
+the occurrences of the night when he had brought his plans to an almost
+successful termination. He told his story with charm of recital, verve
+and humor, and gave it withal a touch of vivid realism, so that even his
+auditors, long since graduated from the stage where a tale of
+adventurous undertaking thrilled them, yet listened with profound
+interest.
+
+With the salad Jusseret sighed regretfully.
+
+"I rather plume myself on one quality of my work, _Monsieur_ Martin. I
+rarely overlook an integral detail. I, however, find myself growing
+alarmingly faulty of judgment."
+
+"Indeed!" The Englishman was not greatly engrossed in the
+autobiographical phases of Jusseret's diplomatic felonies.
+
+"I regret to acknowledge it, but it is, alas, true. I reflected that the
+world would resent harsh treatment of a man like Von Ritz. He had
+committed no crime. We could not charge treason against a government not
+yet born. I opposed even exile. He immediately rejoined his fleeing
+King--and has since returned to Puntal, where one can only surmise what
+mischief he agitates. It may be as well to consider his future."
+
+"And now," callously supplemented the Englishman, "our new King feels an
+uncertainty of tenure so long as the old King lives, and I am rushed
+after this refugee Monarch with brief instructions to dispose of him."
+
+There was a certain eloquence in the shrug of Jusseret's shoulders.
+"_Messieurs_, we have wrecked Karyl's dynasty, but it still devolves
+upon us in workmanlike fashion to clear away the débris."
+
+Martin leaned forward and put his query like an attorney cross-examining
+a witness.
+
+"Where was this Queen when the King was taken?"
+
+"That," replied Jusseret, "is a question to be put to Von Ritz or
+Karyl. It would appear that Von Ritz suspected the end and, wise as he
+is in the cards of diplomacy, resolved that should his King be taken, he
+would still hold his Queen in reserve. That Kingdom does not hold to the
+Salic Law--a Queen may reign! And so you see, my colleagues," he
+summarized, "we, representing the plans of Europe, find ourselves
+confronted with questions unanswered, and with matters yet to do."
+
+Martin's voice was matter-of-fact. "After all," he observed, "what are
+the odds, where the King was or where the Queen was at a given time in
+the past, so long as we jolly well know where they are to-night?"
+Turning to the Sultan's officer, he spoke rapidly. "You understand what
+is expected?" He pointed one hand to the party from the yacht. "The man
+nearest us is the King who failed to remain dead. That failure is
+curable if you play your game." He paused. "The lady," he added, "has
+the misfortune to have been the Queen of Galavia. You understand, my
+brother?"
+
+The Turk rose, pushing back his chair.
+
+"Your words are illuminating." He spoke with a profound bow. "In serving
+you, I shall bring honor to my children, and my children's children."
+With the Turkish gesture of farewell, his fingers touching heart, lips
+and forehead, he betook himself backward to the door.
+
+Two hours later, alighting from a rickety victoria by the landing-stage,
+Cara made her way between the two men, toward the waiting launch from
+the _Isis_. Filthy looking Arabs, to the number of a dozen, rose out of
+the shadows and crowded about the trio, pleading piteously for
+_backshish_ in the name of Allah. The party found itself forced back
+towards the carriage, and Benton fingered the grip of the revolver in
+his pocket as the other hand held the girl's arm. At the same moment
+there was a sudden clamor of shouting and the patter of running feet.
+Then the throng of beggars dropped back under the pelting blows from
+heavy _naboots_ in the hands of _kavasses_.
+
+An instant later a stout Turk in official uniform broke through the
+confusion, shouting imprecations.
+
+"Back, you children of swine!" he declaimed. "Back to your mires, you
+pigs! Do you dare to affront the great _Pashas_?" Then, turning
+obsequiously, he bowed with profound apology. "It is a bitter sorrow
+that you should be annoyed," he assured them, "but it is over."
+
+"To whom have we the honor of expressing our thanks?" smiled Pagratide.
+
+The _Osmanli_ responded with a deprecating gesture of self-effacement.
+
+"To one of the least of men," he said. "I am called Abdul Said _Bey_. I
+am the humble servant of His Majesty, the Sultan--whom Allah preserve."
+
+As the launch put off, the elliptical figure of Abdul Said _Bey_, on the
+lowest step of the landing, speeded its departure with a gesture of
+ceremonious farewell--fingers sweeping heart, lips and forehead. "If you
+go to shop in Stamboul," he shouted after them, "have a care. The pigs
+will cheat you--all save Mohammed Abbas."
+
+When the reflected lights of the launch shimmered in vague downward
+shafts at a distance, he turned and the scattered throng of beggars
+regathered to group themselves about him with no trace of fear.
+
+"You will know them when you see them in the bazaars?" he demanded. "You
+shall be taught in time what is expected--likewise _bastinadoed_ upon
+your bare soles if you fail. Now you have only to remember the faces of
+the Infidels. Go!" He swept out his hand and the Bedouins scattered like
+rats into a dozen dark places.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+If the panorama of Constantinople fades from a lurid silhouette to a
+sooty monotone by night, it at least makes amends by day. Then the sun,
+shining out of a sky of intense blue, on water vividly green, catches
+the tiled color-chips of the sprawling town; glints on dome and
+minaret, and makes such a city as might be seen in a kaleidoscope.
+
+Her insatiable appetite for beauty had brought Cara on deck early. The
+early shore-wind tossed unruly brown curls into her eyes and across the
+delicate pink of her cheeks.
+
+When the yachtsman joined her, she read in his eyes that he had been
+long awake and was deeply troubled. In the shadow of the after-cabin she
+stopped him with a light touch on his arm.
+
+"Now tell me," she demanded, "what is the matter?"
+
+His voice was quiet. "There is nothing in my thoughts that you cannot
+read--so--" He lifted the eyes in question, half-despairing despite the
+smile he had schooled into them. "Why rehearse it all again?"
+
+Her face clouded.
+
+He turned his gaze on the single dome and four minarets of the Mosque of
+Suleyman.
+
+"Besides," he added at length, speaking in a steady monotone, "I
+couldn't tell it without saying things that are forbidden."
+
+When she spoke the dominant note in her voice was weariness.
+
+"My life," she said, "is a miserable serial of calling on you and
+sending you away. Back there"--she waved her hand to the vague west--"it
+is summer--wonderful American summer! The woods are thick and green....
+The big rocks by the creek are splotched yellow with the sun, and green
+with the moss.... I wonder who rides Spartan now, when the hounds are
+out!" She broke off suddenly, with a sobbing catch in her throat, then
+she shook her head sadly. "You see, you must go!" she added. "You will
+take my heart with you--but that is better than this."
+
+She turned and led the way forward and for the length of the deck he
+walked at her side in silence.
+
+As they halted he demanded, very low; "And you--?"
+
+Her answering smile was pallid as she quoted, "'More than a little
+lonely'--" then, reverting to her old name for him, she laughed with
+counterfeited gayety--"as, Sir Gray Eyes, people must be--who try to be
+good."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+IN A CURIO SHOP IN STAMBOUL.
+
+
+The _muezzin_ had called the devout to their prayer-rugs for the third
+time that day, when the girl and the two men turned from the Stamboul
+end of Galata Bridge into the tawdry confusion of buildings which
+cluster about the Mosque Yeni-Djami. They were bound for the bazaars.
+
+Along the twisting ways stretched the booths of native merchants stocked
+with the thousand fascinating trifles that the City of the Sultan
+markets to the journeying world. Everywhere the crowd surged and
+jostled.
+
+On the side street where the shops are a trifle larger than their
+neighbors, one Mohammed Abbas keeps his curio bazaar. In such flowery
+Orientalism of appeal did he couch his plea for an inspection of his
+wares, that Cara was persuaded and turned into the shop. Cut off by
+pressure of the crowd, Pagratide, who was following, some paces back,
+caught a glimpse of her figure in the door and fought his way to her
+side, but Benton, having stopped to price a bracelet of antique silver
+set with turquoises, lost sight of them. The girl had become interested
+in a quaint, curved dagger thickly studded with semi-precious stones.
+
+Mohammed Abbas urged her to see the rarer and choicer articles which he
+kept in an upper room. As they tailed, a half-dozen natives, swarthy and
+villainous of face, drifted into the shop to be promptly ordered out by
+the proprietor, who used for that purpose a vocabulary of scope and
+vividness. The ruffians retreated after a brief conversation in guttural
+Arabic, but not by the street door through which they had come. Instead,
+they left by a low-arched exit to the rear, concealed from view by the
+angle of the screening stairway. Abbas led his customers to an upper
+room which they found dark except where he lighted it as he went with
+hanging lamps. Its space was generous, broken here and there by piles of
+ebony furniture, inlaid with pearl; pieces of Saracenic armor,
+Damascened bucklers, and all the gear too large for the narrow confines
+below.
+
+Half an hour's searching through the chaos of wares failed to reveal the
+choice daggers which Mohammed wished them to see, and with many
+apologies for added annoyance he begged _Monsieur_ and _Madame_ to mount
+yet another flight, and visit yet another store-room. At the head of
+these stairs they encountered absolute darkness and the shopman, with
+his ever-ready apologies, paused again to light lamps.
+
+As Pagratide's pupils accustomed themselves to the murk he realized that
+this last room was bare except for tapestries hung flat against the
+wall, and that at its farther side narrow slits of light showed along
+the sills of two doors. Turning, he noted the darker shadow of some
+recess in the wall, immediately to his left.
+
+Suddenly Mohammed Abbas closed the door upon the stairs, and sharply
+clapped his hands. In all lands where Allah is worshiped, clapping of
+the hands is a signal of summons. Thrusting his hand into the pocket
+where he had stored an automatic pistol, Karyl found it empty, and
+remembered that on the stairway the merchant had apologized for jostling
+him. Then simultaneously the two opposite doors opened and framed
+against their light a momentary picture of crowding Arabs.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Outside, Benton had been searching. First he had felt only annoyance for
+a chance separation, but when ten minutes of futile wandering had
+lengthened to fifteen, annoyance gave way to fear, and fear to panic. A
+dozen tragic stories of mysterious disappearances in Stamboul crowded
+like nightmares upon his memory. At last, standing bewildered in the
+street, he caught sight of a familiar figure; a figure that filled him
+with astonishment and delight.
+
+Colonel Von Ritz had left Cairo to return to Puntal. Now here he was in
+a crooked Stamboul street, appearing without warning, but with his
+almost uncanny faculty for being at the right spot when needed. He
+shouldered his way to the side of the officer.
+
+Though the two men had parted several weeks before, the Galavian greeted
+the other only with a formal bow, and an abrupt question. "Where are
+they?"
+
+"I have lost them," replied Benton. He rapidly sketched the events of
+the last half-hour, and confessed his own apprehensions.
+
+With evidence of neither anxiety nor interest, Von Ritz listened, and
+replied with a second question. "Have you seen Martin?"
+
+Benton gave a palpable start. "Martin!" he ejaculated. "Is Martin in
+Constantinople?"
+
+For reply Von Ritz permitted himself the rare indulgence of a smile.
+
+"Martin is here," he said briefly.
+
+"And you--?"
+
+As he spoke the figure of Martin himself emerged from a shop a few paces
+ahead, and without a backward glance cut diagonally across the narrow
+street to disappear into the doorway of the curio shop which is kept by
+Mohammed Abbas.
+
+When, after being cut off and delayed for some minutes by a passing
+donkey train, Von Ritz and Benton entered the place, they found it empty
+except for a native salesman, but as the Galavian paused to make a
+trivial purchase his listening ear caught a sound above. Without
+hesitation, he wheeled and mounted the stairs with Benton close at his
+heels. Behind him the shop-clerk stood irresolute--taken aback, with a
+vague consciousness that he should have devised a way to stop this
+gigantic Infidel. Assuredly the master would be angry. Orders had been
+explicitly given to allow no one to climb those steps to-day without
+permission.
+
+While Cara and Karyl had been on the second floor, a heavy _Osmanli_,
+wearing the Sultan's uniform, had stood in the center of the room above,
+looking about with keen, pig-like eyes, as he gave rapid commands to a
+half dozen Arabs of villainous visage.
+
+"You, Sayed Ayoub," he ordered, "take your pig of a self and others like
+unto you into that doorway by the stairs. Remain until you hear men
+enter from these two doors, facing the Infidel dogs. Then come upon them
+from behind. The man is to be bound, and when evening comes--but that is
+later! Still, if he resists too much--" The speaker shrugged his heavy
+shoulders and made a certain gesture.
+
+"And the woman? What of her?" The question came from a gigantic Bedouin
+whose evil countenance was made the more sinister by one closed and
+empty eye-socket.
+
+Abdul Said _Bey_ nodded. "She is to be tenderly handled," he enjoined.
+"She, also, must disappear, but that shall be my care. My harem is as
+silent as the Bosphorus."
+
+There were steps on the stairs, and instantaneously the room emptied
+itself and became silently dark.
+
+When Karyl heard the hand-clapping of the decoy shopman, and saw the
+responding ruffians in the opposite doors, he swiftly thrust the girl
+into the spot of blacker shadow at his back, and seized the wrist of
+Mohammed Abbas with a force and suddenness that wrung from him a piteous
+wail.
+
+Keeping the Turk before him, he backed toward the shadowed recess, with
+the one idea of shielding Cara. But the darker spot was the door behind
+which Sayed Ayoub lay in ambuscade, and as Karyl reached it, it swung
+open, showing them against a background as bright as though they were
+painted on yellow canvas.
+
+With his free arm he swept Cara into the doorway, wheeling quickly in
+front of her, and sent Mohammed Abbas lurching forward into the faces of
+the assailants led by Sayed Ayoub. Instantly, however, his arms were
+pinioned from behind by the reënforcements, and as he frantically
+struggled to turn his face, in an effort to see the girl, some thick
+fabric fell over his head, covering mouth and eyes, and he went down
+stifled and garroted into insensibility.
+
+Seeing the man overwhelmed and dragged through the door, Cara stood
+rigidly upright, white in the intensity of voiceless outrage, until the
+gigantic brute with one sightless eye and a greasy _tarboosh_ reached
+out his grimy hand and seized her. Then she sickened at the profaning
+shock of his touch, and fell unconscious.
+
+A few moments later the "English Jackal" stood nonchalantly looking down
+at the bound figure of the former King lying on the floor, shoulders
+propped against the wall, head wrapped in a richly embroidered shawl
+from Persia. Lamps had been kindled. The head wrappings had already been
+somewhat loosened and Karyl was stirring with the indication of
+returning consciousness.
+
+"Oh, damn it!" remarked Martin in disgust. "He doesn't need to be both
+trussed up and gagged, you know. He's quite safe. Take off the head
+cloths."
+
+He stuffed tobacco into his blunt bull-dog pipe as he supervised the
+undoing of the smothering fabric and complacently looked at his
+prisoner.
+
+Freed from the bandage, and drinking in again reviving breaths, Karyl
+awoke to the sense of his surroundings. His eyes at once swept the place
+for Cara, but he saw only the closed door of the room where she was
+detained.
+
+Martin looked down and as their eyes met he casually nodded.
+
+"Sorry to inconvenience you," he commented affably, "but this is
+politics, you know. I happen to work for the other chap, King Louis." As
+an afterthought he added: "And the other chap thinks that you are, to
+put it quite civilly, unnecessary."
+
+He smoked meditatively, while Karyl, without reply, scowled up into his
+face. The sense of futility left Pagratide silent. He lay insanely
+furious like a trapped wolf, able only to glare.
+
+Suddenly the complacency deserted the Englishman's features, for a
+startled expression. With a violent malediction he bent forward
+listening.
+
+Karyl's ears also caught the sound of feet on the stairs, immediately
+followed by a crash upon the door.
+
+Martin drew a heavy revolver from a holster under his coat, and his
+voice ripped out orders with the sharp decision which had survived the
+days when he wore a British uniform. "Here, you beggars," he shouted,
+"to that door!"
+
+As the Bedouins swarmed forward there came a second crash under which
+the panels fell in, precipitating Von Ritz and Benton into a fierce
+swarm of human hornets.
+
+Falling desperately upon the newcomers with swords, knives and
+_naboots_, the bravos afforded them no time to take breath after their
+climb of the stairs.
+
+Martin, standing with his pipe clamped between his teeth, took no part
+in the onslaught. He cast a glance at the turmoil, then deliberately
+cocked his weapon and leveled it at the breast of his captive.
+
+Karyl realized that the Jackal was not to be led away from his single
+purpose: that of execution. If he himself were to speak to his rescuers,
+he must do it quickly. He raised his voice.
+
+"Von Ritz! To that door!" he shouted loudly, but the Galavian and his
+companion, fighting desperately to hold their own, with the shouts and
+clamor of the struggling Moslems in their ears, did not hear, and the
+Englishman only smiled.
+
+"They are quite busy, you know," he drawled in a half-apologetic tone.
+"Give them a bit of time."
+
+Von Ritz was fighting with the blade of his sword-cane, while Benton,
+too closely pressed to make use of his pistol, was relying upon his
+fists. Indeed, the two white men owed their lives to the crowding which
+made effective fighting impossible on either side.
+
+At last the Turks gave back a few steps for a fresh rush and Benton,
+taking instant advantage of the widened space, fired into the crowd.
+They turned in terror at the first report and went stampeding to the
+several doors. Then for the first time the rescuers caught sight of the
+Englishman standing guard over the bound figure on the floor.
+
+With the grim smile of one who, recognizing the end, neither flinches
+nor dallies, Martin fired two shots from his leveled revolver.
+
+A half-second too late Benton's magazine pistol ripped out in a frenzied
+series of spats. The Englishman swayed slightly, his face crimson with
+blood, then, propping himself weakly against the wall, he fired one
+ineffectual shot in reply. Slowly wilting at waist and knees, his figure
+slipped to the floor and lay shapelessly huddled near that of Karyl. The
+stench of powder filled the room. Twisting spirals of smoke curled
+ceilingward.
+
+Von Ritz and Benton, kneeling at the King's side, raised him from the
+floor. The wounded man attempted to speak. His eyes turned inquiringly
+toward the door of the other room. Benton caught the questioning look
+and nodded his head. Then Karyl settled back against the officer's
+supporting shoulder after the fashion of a reassured child.
+
+"The King is dead," said Colonel Von Ritz quietly. There was something
+very pathetic in the steady despair of his voice.
+
+A door opened, and several Bedouins retreated shame-faced and cowed
+before a heavy Turk who wore the Sultan's uniform. His small, pig-like
+eyes blazed with terrifying wrath. Looking about the room for a moment,
+he volcanically reviled them.
+
+"You dogs! You pigs! You serpents!" he shrieked. "Your hearts shall be
+thrown to the buzzards! Your children dishonored! You have dared to
+attack the foreign _Pashas_, and you--Mohammed Abbas--!" The shopkeeper
+fell trembling to his knees. "Your filthy shop shall be pulled down
+about your ears. You make it a trap--your feet shall be _bastinadoed_
+until you are a cripple for life!" Then his rage choked him, and,
+wheeling, he walked over to Benton, contemptuously kicking the prostrate
+body of Martin _Effendi_ as he went.
+
+From every pore Abdul Said _Bey_ exuded sympathy and commiseration.
+Scenting liberal _backshish_, he promised absolute secrecy for the
+affair, coupled with soothing assurances of private vengeance upon the
+surviving miscreants. Also, he bewailed the disgrace which had fallen
+upon the Empire by reason of such infamy. He presumed that the foreign
+gentlemen preferred secret punishment of the malefactors to a public
+sensation. It should be so.
+
+In his anxiety for Cara, Benton left Von Ritz to adjust matters with the
+Turk, who with profound courtesy and amazing promptness had closed
+carriages at a rear door, and caused his _kavasses_ to clear the
+alley-way of prying eyes.
+
+When the American reached the room where Cara had been left it was
+deserted by the assassin's guards. With a sudden stopping of his heart,
+he saw her lying apparently lifeless on a stacked-up pile of rugs. In a
+terror that he scarcely dared to investigate, he laid his ear hesitantly
+to her breast, then, reassured, he gave thanks for the anesthetic of
+unconsciousness with which nature had blinded her to the tragedy beyond
+the closed door.
+
+Two curtained carriages drove across Galata Bridge and in the mysterious
+quiet of Stamboul there was no ripple on the surface of affairs as other
+tourists haggled over a few _piastres_ in the curio shops of the
+bazaar.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+BENTON SAYS GOOD-BY
+
+
+Louis Delgado awaited Jusseret in an agony of doubt and fear.
+
+The Frenchman was late. A dispatch from the frontier had announced his
+coming, but to the anxiety of Delgado delays seemed numberless and
+interminable.
+
+At last an aide ushered him into the apartment where the new Monarch
+waited, his inevitable glass of Pernod and anisette twisting in his
+fingers. Jusseret bowed.
+
+"Where is Martin?" inquired the King.
+
+"Dead," said the newcomer briefly. The Pretender paled palpably.
+Evidently the plan had gone awry. Fear always stood near the fore, ready
+to rush out upon Delgado's timid spirit.
+
+"And being dead," resumed the Frenchman, "he is much safer."
+
+Louis gave a half-shuddering sigh of relief. He had none of that
+righteous horror of crime which makes the face of murder hideous, but in
+its place he had all the terrors of the weak, and playing with life and
+death gave him over to panic.
+
+"I should suggest an announcement that King Karyl had fled for a time
+from the cares of State and was traveling as a private gentleman in
+strictest incognito, when sudden death overtook him. There need be no
+hint of violence. There must be a State funeral."
+
+"Where is the body?" objected Louis.
+
+Jusseret shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"That I cannot say. I can, however, assure you that it is quite
+lifeless. Since the death occurred some days ago the lying in State may
+be dispensed with. A closed casket is sufficient."
+
+"And his Queen?"
+
+"That point is left unguarded, but from intimations I have received, I
+believe the Queen will be satisfied with private life. If you announce
+her abdication, she will hardly contradict you."
+
+"And Von Ritz?" persisted Louis, with the manner of one who wishes all
+the ghosts which terrify him laid by someone stronger and less afraid of
+ghosts than himself.
+
+"Leave Von Ritz to me. He is no fool. Von Ritz knows who instigated the
+murder of the King, but he is without proof. The thing happened far
+beyond the borders of Galavia."
+
+Louis rose unsteadily from his chair.
+
+"Jusseret," he began, "this interview with Marie still confronts me and
+I dread it. Would it not be better for you to explain to her? You could
+persuade her that Kings are not free in these matters, that crowned
+heads from antiquity to Napoleon have been compelled to obey the
+dictates of State."
+
+The Frenchman stiffened.
+
+"Your Majesty," he observed, "it is impossible. Your attachment for the
+Countess Astaride is a personal matter. I am concerned only in affairs
+of State. I must even require of you, in respect to that confidence
+which obtains between gentlemen, that you shall in no wise intimate that
+this suggestion came from me."
+
+The new incumbent, who had brought to the Throne of Galavia all the
+libertine's irresoluteness, paced the floor in perplexed distress. He
+feared Jusseret. He dared not anger or disobey him. It appeared that
+being a King was not what he had conceived it, as he sat under the
+chestnut trees of the Paris boulevards and listened to the band.
+
+When Jusseret had left him to his thoughts he paused three times with a
+tremulous finger on the call-bell, unable to command the courage
+required to send a message to the Countess Astaride. Finally he
+succeeded and five minutes later stood shamefacedly in the presence of
+the woman who had made him King. She was more than usually beautiful,
+and as always her beauty and personality dominated him, swayed his
+senses like music. It was so easy to slip into the impetuous attitude
+of the lover; so difficult to maintain the austere one of the Monarch.
+
+Delgado nerved himself and began.
+
+How he said it or what he said, he did not himself know when the words
+had been spoken. He rushed through the speech he had prepared like a
+frightened child at recitation and waited for the outburst of her anger.
+He waited in vain.
+
+Marie Astaride had plotted, had consented to every infamy which had been
+suggested as necessary to bring the man she loved to the Crown.
+
+Now she was silent.
+
+The man looked up when he had waited a seeming century for the expected
+torrent of reproach.
+
+She was standing supporting herself upon her downward stretched arms,
+her hands resting on the table. Her face was pallid and her magnificent
+figure rigid. The scarlet fullness of her lips had gone bloodless. Her
+eyes were stupefied.
+
+At length she straightened herself, let go her support upon the table
+and went slowly like a sleep-walker from the room. She had not spoken.
+She had not said good-by, but Louis Delgado knew that she had walked out
+of his life.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+That evening Monsieur Jusseret of the French _Cabinet Noir_ met, as if
+by chance, young Lieutenant Lapas, who was now high in the favor of the
+new government. Jusseret knew that the lure which had drawn young Lapas
+away from the confidence of Karyl to the uncertain standard of Delgado
+had been the influence of the Countess Astaride. He knew that Lapas
+loved her hopelessly, willing even in her name to serve the greater man
+who loved her more successfully. His attachment was that of the boy for
+the woman who is mistress of all the mature arts of charm. This love
+could be turned into the fanatic's zeal; this boy could be led to the
+extreme of martyrdom, if the strings of his characterless nature were
+played upon with a skill sufficiently consummate. Jusseret knew also a
+number of other things. He knew that whereas he had, to all seeming,
+brought a difficult task to completion, he was in reality not yet half
+through. His own vision went farther into the future, and recognized in
+the present only a mile-post far from the ultimate.
+
+He led Lapas to his own rooms. He was leaving for Paris the following
+morning, he explained, and wished a brief conference.
+
+Jusseret could, when occasion demanded, be not only calm and
+self-sufficient, but also emotional. Now he was emotional.
+
+"Rarely, indeed," he began, "do I permit personal indignation to excite
+me. But this is so unspeakable that I wished to talk to you. You enjoy
+the confidence of the Countess Astaride?"
+
+"Only in a humble way," confessed young Lapas.
+
+"But you are her friend? If she were wronged and had no other defender,
+you would assume her cause?"
+
+"With my life," protested the officer, fervently.
+
+"This matter," said Jusseret dubiously, "might cost you your life.
+Possibly I should not tell you. As a politician I can have nothing to do
+with it, but as a man, I wish I were myself free to act."
+
+"Who has offended the Countess?" demanded Lapas hotly.
+
+"Offended, my young friend! This is not an offense. It is the gravest
+indignity that can be shown a woman. It is an insult to which a man must
+either blind himself--or punish with such means as can ignore personal
+peril."
+
+"For God's sake," insisted the other, "explain yourself."
+
+"Louis Delgado," began Jusseret quietly, "accepted this woman's love:
+enjoyed it to the full. He sat and dreamed over his absinthe futile
+dreams of power. He was too weak to strike a blow--too weak to raise a
+hand. Then she took up his cause; intrigued, enlisted our interests,
+raised his supine and powerless ambitions to a throne. There he abandons
+her at the foot of the stairs by which he mounted; and refuses her his
+Crown. He talks now of a more Royal alliance." Jusseret spread his hands
+in a gesture of disgust.
+
+Lapas rose tensely from his chair. The veins on his temples stood out
+corded and deep-lined.
+
+"This cannot be true, sir," he argued. "There must be some error. You
+wrong the King."
+
+"Am I the man to wrong Louis?" questioned the Frenchman. "You have only
+to wait and see for yourself. The matter rests with you. She and I have
+put Louis on the throne. So much I did as the servant of my government.
+What I say to you I say as a man, and I had rather behold all my work
+undone than to stand by and see it bear such fruit. Adieu."
+
+He rose slowly and took his departure. Outside, he smiled.
+
+"I fancy," he told himself, "he will go to the Countess. I fancy she
+will corroborate me--and then--!" He dismissed the matter with his
+habitual shrug.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Two weeks had passed since the tragedy in Stamboul, and the _Isis_
+cruised aimlessly westward. The Mediterranean stretched to the horizon,
+so placid that the froth from the wake washed languidly, almost
+lifelessly, on the surface, and a single cloud hung stationary in the
+softer blue of the sky. Wrapped in a steamer rug, her figure, more
+slender in the simple lines of her black gown, Cara sat gazing toward
+the receding coast-line of Malta. So she had spent most of the hours
+since they had weighed anchor at Constantinople. On the deck at her feet
+sat Benton.
+
+At Piræus Von Ritz had secured a copy of the _Figaro_ several days old,
+and the men had read its report of the Regency of Louis in Puntal. Then
+the yacht had called at Malta where the gray fortresses of Valetta frown
+out to sea, and Von Ritz had once more gone in quest of news.
+
+That had been yesterday. By common consent the two men refrained from
+allusions to State matters in the girl's presence. Now the former
+adviser of the King uneasily paced the deck. Over his usually
+sphinx-like face brooded the troubled expression of one who confronts an
+unwelcome necessity. Suddenly he halted before the girl's deck-chair,
+and, schooling his voice with an apparent effort, spoke in his old-time
+even modulation, but for once he found it difficult to meet the eyes of
+the person he addressed.
+
+"We have heretofore not spoken of things which we would all give many
+years of life to forget," he began. Then he added with feeling: "Only
+the sternest necessity could force me to do so now."
+
+As he paused for permission to continue, the girl raised her eyes with a
+sad smile that had grown habitual.
+
+"I have come," said Von Ritz, "to stand for an implacable Nemesis to
+you, and yet I should wish to be identified only with happiness in your
+thoughts. To me one thing always comes first. The House of Galavia is my
+gospel; has been my gospel since Karyl's father mounted its throne." He
+paused and added gravely: "Louis Delgado has reaped his reward--he is
+dead."
+
+Benton's voice broke out in an explosive "Thank God!"
+
+Von Ritz stood a moment silent, then, dropping to one knee, he took the
+fingers which fell listlessly over the arm of Cara's steamer-chair and
+raised them to his lips.
+
+"Your Majesty is Queen of Galavia."
+
+The American came to his feet, his hands clenched, but with quick
+self-mastery he stood back, breathing heavily.
+
+Cara sat for a moment only half-comprehending, then with a low moan she
+leaned forward and covered her face with both hands.
+
+"Forgive me," said Von Ritz. "I _am_ your Nemesis."
+
+Benton moved over silently and knelt beside her chair. Neither spoke,
+but at last she raised her face and sat looking out at the water, then
+slowly one hand came out gropingly toward the American and both of his
+own closed over it. Von Ritz stood waiting.
+
+When finally she spoke, her voice was almost childlike, full of
+pleading.
+
+"I thought," she said, "that all that was over. I had thought that
+whatever is left of life belonged just to me--for my very own. I thought
+I could take it away and try to mend it."
+
+Von Ritz turned his head and his eyes traveled northward and westward,
+where, somewhere beyond the horizon, lay his country.
+
+"Galavia needs you," he said with grave simplicity. "Unless you come to
+her aid there must be ruin and dismemberment. You will save your
+country."
+
+But his words appeared to convert all her crushed and pathetic misery
+into anger. "It is not my country!" she replied almost fiercely. "To me
+it means only--"
+
+Von Ritz raised his hand supplicatingly. "It is my country," he said
+sadly, "and--your duty. Its fate is in your hands."
+
+The girl rose, swayed slightly, and putting out one hand for support,
+stood with her black-gowned figure sketched slenderly against the white
+of the cabin wall, her eyes irresolute and distressed.
+
+"I must have time to think," she begged. "Will you leave me?" Von Ritz
+bowed and retired.
+
+She dropped exhaustedly into the chair again and for a long while sat
+silent. Finally she turned toward the man who, kneeling by her side,
+waited for her decision through what seemed decades of suspense, and her
+hands went out gropingly again toward him.
+
+"Dear," she said in a voice hardly more than a whisper, "whatever I
+do--whatever I decide--always and always I love you!" Impulsively her
+fingers clutched at his, which rested clenched on her arm-chair.
+
+"You must go!" she said, after a long while. "With you here there is
+nothing else in the world. I can see only you." With a catch in her
+voice she rushed on. "You must not only go, but I must not know where
+you go. I must not be able to call you back. You must give me your word
+of honor."
+
+He attempted to speak, but she tightened her hold on his hands and her
+hurried utterance checked his words.
+
+"No!" she said. "Listen! This time I decide forever. I must decide
+alone. You must not only be out of my sight, but beyond recall. Three
+months from to-day I shall write to you, but until then I must not know
+your address. Three months from to-day you may be at 'Idle Times,' where
+I first told you I loved you ... where we told each other ... if you
+still wish to be. Then, if I decide that I am free, you will find my
+letter there. If I'm not free, I had better not even write. I couldn't
+write without calling you back. If I have to decide that way--" She
+broke off with a shudder. "Oh, you must go--Dear!--you must go
+quickly--! It is the only way you can help me."
+
+A half-hour later, Benton turned to the approaching Von Ritz.
+
+"Colonel," he said steadily, "I sail for San Francisco by way of Suez
+from the first port we reach. You will favor me by accepting the _Isis_
+as long as Her Majesty can use it."
+
+Von Ritz met his eyes in silence and held out his hand.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+JUSSERET MAKES A REPORT
+
+
+In Paris a small party of gentlemen, among whom were represented all the
+national types of Southern Europe, were engaged in an informal
+discussion of very formal affairs. They occupied a private suite in the
+Hotel Ritz overlooking the column of the _Place Vendome_. Upon a table
+swept clean of draperies and bric-a-brac lay an outstretched map of the
+Mediterranean littoral, whereon a small peninsula had been marked with
+certain experimental and revised boundaries in red and blue and black.
+The atmosphere was thick with the smoke from cigars and cigarettes, and
+through the veneering amenities of much courtesy the gentlemen of
+Europe's _Cabinets Noirs_ wrangled with insistence. Finally Monsieur
+Jusseret took the floor, and the others dropped respectfully into an
+attitude of listening.
+
+"It is hardly necessary," he began, "to discuss what has been done in
+Galavia. That is long since a stale story. Our governments, acting in
+concert, made it possible to remove Karyl and crown Louis." He smiled
+quietly. "You know how short a reign Louis enjoyed before death claimed
+him. Perhaps you do not know that his death was not unforeseen by me."
+
+There was an outburst of exclamations under which France's
+representative remained unmoved.
+
+"Our object," he explained coldly, "was the disruption of Galavia's
+integrity. In reducing this Kingdom to a province, the supplanting of
+Karyl with Louis was essential only as an initial step. The instability
+of that government had to be demonstrated to the world by more
+continuous disorders. It was necessary to show that the Kingdom had
+become incapable of self-rule. It followed that the removal of Louis was
+equally natural--and imperative."
+
+Don Alphonso Rodriguez, bearing the secret credentials of Spain, came to
+his feet with the hauteur of offended dignity.
+
+"My government" he said, with austere deliberation, "had the right to
+know what matters were being transacted. France appears to have assumed
+exclusive control. Is it too late to inquire of France"--he bent a
+chilling frown upon the smiling Jusseret--"what she now purposes? It
+appears that Spain knew no more than the newspapers. Spain also believed
+that Louis died by his own hand, and artlessly assumed the motive of
+disappointment in his love for Marie Astaride. We believed we were being
+frankly informed."
+
+The more accomplished diplomat lifted brows and hands in a deprecating
+gesture. "_Mon ami_," he responded with suavity, "you flatter me. What I
+have done is nothing. I have only paved the way. Quite possibly Louis
+did kill himself. If so it was a meritorious act, but whether he did so
+or whether some mad young officer, infatuated and jealous, was the real
+author of the result, the result stands--and meets our requirements.
+France does not care what flag flies over the Governor-General's Palace
+in Puntal, provided it be the flag of a nation in concert with France.
+France suggests that the Governor-General should be a Galavian, and
+points to the one man conspicuously capable--who happens to be," he
+added with an amused laugh, "my particular enemy."
+
+"You mean Von Ritz?" The question came from Italy's delegate.
+
+Jusseret bowed his head. "Von Ritz," he affirmed.
+
+Don Alphonso Rodriguez laughed with a note of incredulity. "And how do
+you propose," he demanded, "to persuade this loyal adviser of Karyl to
+accept a deputyship at the hands of Karyl's enemies?"
+
+Again Jusseret smiled. "It will be Von Ritz or a foreigner," he
+explained. "We must convince him that his beloved Kingdom can henceforth
+be only a province in any event--that it may prosper under his guidance
+or suffer under a more oppressive hand. That done, his patriotism will
+prove our ally. We have only to convince him that no member of Karyl's
+house can reign and live--and that it must be himself or an alien."
+
+"It would have been as easy," demurred the Portuguese delegate, "to have
+persuaded Von Ritz that Karyl himself should abdicate."
+
+Jusseret felt the hostility of the other members. In spite of the
+realization, or perhaps because of it, he glanced from face to face with
+unruffled urbanity.
+
+"_Messieurs_," he suggested, "you overlook the hypotheses--and in
+reaching conclusions hypotheses are serviceable. You, gentlemen," he
+continued blandly, "regarded the initial steps as impracticable. What I
+volunteered to do, I have so far done. We have one object. The insatiate
+ambition of that nation, which we need not name, must not gain
+additional Mediterranean foothold. Spain or Portugal, it is one to us,
+may decide the matter of suzerainty between themselves."
+
+"How do you mean to persuade Von Ritz?" insisted Don Alphonso.
+
+"In the young Queen, who is the sole eligible candidate for the Throne,
+we have at heart an unwilling heir. Von Ritz distrusts France. Let the
+suggestion come from Portugal, a friend who can speak persuasively--and
+convincingly. Let him see the inevitable result unless he consents. Let
+all which we have done be denounced. Lead him to believe that he holds
+as steward"--Jusseret raised his hands as he concluded--"for Karyl's
+heir, if there should be one. These things are mere details."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Benton worked his way slowly to San Francisco through the Far East. It
+is not difficult to avoid newspapers between Ismaïlia and Manila, and
+with the dogged determination to let the day set by Cara answer all
+questions of his future, he had neither sought nor received tidings from
+Galavia.
+
+He had not permitted himself great indulgence in hope. The past months
+had brought too many disappointments, and he knew that they had all been
+but episodes leading up to the climax which must come with the day when
+he inquired for a letter at "Idle Times."
+
+He dreaded a return to "Idle Times" before the day set for his inquiry.
+Bristow's place stood for too much of memory, and the inevitable
+questions of his friend loomed before him, as the trifle which a man who
+has stood much more than trifles cannot bring himself to face. Yet there
+was no danger of his being late. That time was the one fixed point on
+the calendar of his future. One day before his three months had come to
+an end, he arrived, but he did not go to Van Bristow's house. He did
+not announce his coming. He went by the less frequented streets of the
+near-by village to its inadequate hotel, where he found only a drummer
+for a New York shoe house and a gentleman traveling "out of Chicago"
+with samples of ready-made clothing.
+
+For a time he sat in the dingy parlor of the place and listened to the
+jarring talk of the commercial travelers. Already Galavia and the months
+which had been, seemed receding into an improbable dream, but the misery
+of their bequeathing was poignantly real.
+
+He rose impatiently and made his way to the livery-stable, where he
+hired a saddle horse. His idea was merely to be alone. The reins hung on
+the neck of his spiritless mount and the roads he went were the roads it
+took of its own unguided selection.
+
+Suddenly Benton looked up. He was in a lane between overarching trees; a
+lane which he remembered. Off to the side were the hills bristling with
+pines, raised against the sky like the lances of marching troops. It was
+the road he had ridden with her on that day when her horse fell at the
+fence--and there, on the side of the hill, stood a dilapidated cabin:
+the cabin upon whose porch he had poured water over her hands from a
+gourd dipper.
+
+It was only the end of September, but an early frost had flushed the
+woods and hillsides into a hint of the crimson and gold they were soon
+to wear in more profligate splendor. The fragrant, blue mist of wood
+smoke drifted over the fields at the foot of the knobs. The hills were
+seen through a wash of purple. From somewhere to the far left drifted
+the mellowed music of fox-hounds. Riding slowly, the man came at length
+to the cabin gate.
+
+The same farmer sat as indolently now as then, on the top step. The
+setter dog started up to growl as the horseman dismounted.
+
+The man did not recognize him, but the proffer of Benton's cigar-case
+proved a sufficient credential, and a discussion of the weather appeared
+a satisfactory reason for remaining. It was only a verbal and logical
+step from weather to crops, and in ten minutes the visitor was being
+shown over the place. When the round of cribs and stables was completed
+it was time for the host to feed his stock, and, saying good-by at the
+barn, he left Benton to make his way alone to the cabin. Passing through
+the house from the back, the man halted suddenly and with abrupt
+wonderment at the front door.
+
+For upright and slim, with a small gauntleted hand resting on one of the
+rude posts of the porch, gazing off intently into the coloring west,
+stood an unmistakable figure in a black riding habit. Incredulous,
+suddenly stunned under the cumulative suspense of the past three
+months, he stood hesitant. Then the figure slowly turned and, as the old
+heart-breaking, heart-recompensing smile came to her lips and eyes, the
+girl silently held out both arms to him.
+
+Finally he found time to ask: "How long have you been here?"
+
+"Six weeks," she answered. "And it's been lonesome."
+
+"Your answer, Cara," he whispered. "What is your answer?"
+
+"I am here," she said. "Don't you see me? I'm the answer."
+
+
+                          THE END
+
+             *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+                        BIOGRAPHIES
+
+
+             *       *       *       *       *
+
+                    TWO POPULAR AUTHORS
+
+                             &
+
+                    SOMETHING ABOUT THEM
+
+             *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+[Illustration: Charles Neville Buck]
+
+
+
+
+CHARLES NEVILLE BUCK
+
+
+Though still a young man--he has only just passed his thirtieth
+year--Charles Neville Buck, the author of "The Lighted Match," has
+travelled far and done much. Although it was as late as January, 1909,
+that he first settled down to write for the magazines, he has made
+already an established reputation as a short story writer, and promises
+to make an even greater name as a novelist. His first novel, "The Key to
+Yesterday," was one of the successes of the last publishing season, and
+we shall be greatly surprised if "The Lighted Match" does not prove
+still more popular.
+
+Born in Louisville, Ky., he visited South America with his father, the
+Hon. C. W. Buck, United States Minister to Peru. Since then he has
+travelled in Europe, covering the ground where he places the scenes in
+"The Key to Yesterday" and "The Lighted Match."
+
+After graduation, Mr. Buck studied art, and for a year was the chief
+cartoonist on Louisville's leading daily paper. He then turned to
+editorial and reportorial work, which brought him into close contact
+with Kentucky politics and the mountain feuds. In 1902, while still a
+reporter, he was admitted to the Bar, but never practised.
+
+Successful as he is at the short story, it is in the novel that Mr. Buck
+does his finest work. The novel rather than the short story gives scope
+for those little touches which make for style and atmosphere, and it is
+at these that Mr. Buck peculiarly excels. The vivid interest of his
+plots is apt to blind the reader to this merit, for Mr. Buck's novels
+have what some consider the only virtue of a novel, that they can be
+read for the story alone; but it is there, nevertheless, and for some
+constitutes the greatest charm of his work. In "The Lighted Match," even
+more than in "The Key to Yesterday," is this artistic finish noticeable.
+"The Lighted Match" is not only a bully good story, it is literature as
+well.
+
+
+[Illustration: P. G. Wodehouse]
+
+
+
+
+PELHAM GRANVILLE WODEHOUSE
+
+
+During the past year a phrase has been frequently heard among magazine
+and book men in New York when the name of Pelham Granville Wodehouse has
+been mentioned. This phrase is "the logical successor to O. Henry"--and
+it is misleading. Any humorist who tried to follow in the tracks of O.
+Henry would be merely an imitator and the task would be as unwise as
+though O. Henry had cramped his own freedom in an effort to walk in the
+footprints of Mark Twain or any other predecessor in the field of humor.
+
+Wodehouse suggests O. Henry only in that he has suddenly come into
+universal recognition as a remarkable humorist. He wields a pen which
+commands an uncommon power of satire, without the suggestion of vitriol
+or bitterness. His humor has a sparkle, effervescence and spontaneity
+which has put him in an incredibly short time in the front rank of
+writers, and since the materialistic barometer at least records the
+opinion of the editors and since the editors are supposed to know, has
+brought him into that envied coterie whose rate per word in the
+magazines has soared skyward.
+
+P. G. Wodehouse was born in Guildford, England, in 1881, and while still
+an infant he accompanied his parents to Hong Kong, where the elder
+Wodehouse was a judge. He is a cousin of the Earl of Kimberley. In his
+school days he went in for cricket, football and boxing, and made for
+himself a reputation in athletics.
+
+For two years Mr. Wodehouse went into a London bank and observed the
+passing parade from a high stool, but this was not quite in keeping with
+his tastes, and we find him next publishing a column of humorous
+paragraphs in the _London Globe_, under the head of "By the Way." Later
+he assumed the editorship of this department, and many of his paragraphs
+lived longer than the few hours' existence of most newspaper humor. Also
+since all writers experimentally venture into the dramatic, he wrote
+several vaudeville sketches which have had popular English productions.
+
+Three years ago P. G. Wodehouse came to New York. He liked the American
+field and wanted to see whether his humor would strike the American
+fancy. It struck. Mr. Wodehouse had tried his wings here only a few
+months when magazine editors were bidding for his manuscripts. His
+short stories have appeared generally in the magazines, and while one
+often finds the delightful touch of pathos, there is always an abundance
+of laughter. In _Cosmopolitan, Collier's Weekly, Ainslee's_, and many
+other publications these stories appear as often as Mr. Wodehouse will
+contribute.
+
+His novel, "The Intrusion of Jimmy," last year was a decided success. In
+it Mr. Wodehouse demonstrated his ability to hold his sprinting speed
+over a Marathon distance. The book, after giving the flattering returns
+of a large sale, found its second production on the stage. In its
+dramatized version with the title, "A Gentleman of Leisure," it has had
+its tryout on the road and has proven a success. With Douglas Fairbanks
+in the leading rôle, it will be one of next Fall's elaborate productions
+on Broadway.
+
+In personality Mr. Wodehouse is quite as interesting as one might gather
+from his writings. Physically a man of splendid proportions and mentally
+a fountain of spirited humor, he is, nevertheless, modest to the point
+usually termed "retiring," and is well known only after long
+acquaintanceship. He is fond of all sports, and on reaching America
+became truly the native in his enthusiasm for baseball. Mr. Wodehouse
+says that one epoch of his literary career dates from his purchase of an
+automobile in 1907. The purchase was an investment of considerable
+gravity to a young writer just commencing to command an entree. The
+automobile lasted some two weeks and came to a violent end against a
+telephone pole. Mr. Wodehouse thought out the major problems of life
+sitting on the turf near the pole from a more or less lacerated point of
+view. He decided, among other things, that his _forte_ was rather
+writing about motors than riding about _in_ motors.
+
+Mr. Wodehouse's second novel will be an even greater success than "The
+Intrusion of Jimmy." Mr. Wodehouse spent last winter on the Riviera
+writing this book, and his friends who have read the advance pages,
+agree with the publishers that it will deserve and receive even greater
+cordiality than the first. The title will be "The Prince and Betty," and
+it will be something for novel readers to look forward to.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Lighted Match, by Charles Neville Buck
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIGHTED MATCH ***
+
+***** This file should be named 18336-8.txt or 18336-8.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/3/3/18336/
+
+Produced by David Garcia, Martin Pettit and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Kentuckiana Digital Library)
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/18336-8.zip b/18336-8.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a4cf20f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/18336-8.zip
diff --git a/18336-h.zip b/18336-h.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..972e185
--- /dev/null
+++ b/18336-h.zip
diff --git a/18336-h/18336-h.htm b/18336-h/18336-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9c0b306
--- /dev/null
+++ b/18336-h/18336-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,8304 @@
+<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+    "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Lighted Match, by Charles Neville Buck.
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css">
+/*<![CDATA[  XML blockout */
+<!--
+    p {  margin-top: .75em;
+         text-align: justify;
+         margin-bottom: .75em;
+         }
+    h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {
+         text-align: center; /* all headings centered */
+         clear: both;
+         }
+    hr { width: 33%;
+	 margin-top: 2em;
+	 margin-bottom: 2em;
+         margin-left: auto;
+         margin-right: auto;
+         clear: both;
+       }
+
+    hr.smler { width: 10%; }
+
+    body{margin-left: 10%;
+         margin-right: 10%;
+        }
+
+    table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;}
+
+
+    .pagenum  { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */
+            /*  visibility: hidden;  */
+                position: absolute;
+                left: 92%;
+                font-size: smaller;
+                text-align: right;
+              } /* page numbers */
+
+    .center   {text-align: center;}
+    .smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
+
+    .right            {text-align: right;}
+    .left             {text-align: left;}
+    .tbrk	{  margin-top: 2.75em;
+                   text-align: justify;
+                   margin-bottom: .75em;
+                }
+
+    .poem             {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;}
+    .poem br          {display: none;}
+    .poem .stanza     {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;}
+    .poem div        {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+    .poem div.i2     {display: block; margin-left: 2em;}
+
+
+
+    /* index */
+
+    div.index ul { list-style: none; }
+    div.index ul li span.mono {font-family: monospace;}
+    // -->
+    /* XML end  ]]>*/
+    </style>
+  </head>
+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Lighted Match, by Charles Neville Buck
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Lighted Match
+
+Author: Charles Neville Buck
+
+Illustrator: R. F. Schabelitz
+
+Release Date: May 7, 2006 [EBook #18336]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIGHTED MATCH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Garcia, Martin Pettit and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Kentuckiana Digital Library)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class='tbrk'>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h1>THE LIGHTED MATCH</h1>
+
+<p class='tbrk'>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="center"><a name="illust-002.jpg" id="illust-002.jpg"></a><img src="images/illust-002.jpg" width='534' height='700' alt="SHE HELD OUT HER HAND TO BENTON AND WATCHED, TRANCE-LIKE, HIS LOWERED HEAD AS HE BENT HIS LIPS TO HER FINGERS." /></p>
+
+<h4>SHE HELD OUT HER HAND TO BENTON AND WATCHED, TRANCE-LIKE, HIS LOWERED HEAD AS HE BENT HIS LIPS TO HER FINGERS.</h4>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class='tbrk'>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="center"><img src="images/003.png" width='497' height='700' alt="The LIGHTED MATCH by CHARLES NEVILLE BUCK Author of The Key to Yesterday.
+Illustrations by R. F. Schabelitz. W.J. Watt &amp; Company Publishers New York" /></p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class='tbrk'>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1911, by</span></h4>
+<h3>W. J. WATT &amp; COMPANY</h3>
+
+<hr class='smler' />
+
+<h4><i>Published May</i></h4>
+
+<p class='tbrk'>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h4>PRESS OF<br />BRAUNWORTH &amp; CO.<br />BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS<br />BROOKLYN, N. Y.</h4>
+
+<hr class='smler' />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4>To K. du P.</h4>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<div class="index">
+<ul>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <a href="#CHAPTER_I">I.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">An Omen Is Construed</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<a href="#CHAPTER_II">II.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">Benton Plays Magician</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <a href="#CHAPTER_III">III.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">The Moon Overhears</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">The Doctrine According to Jonesy</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <a href="#CHAPTER_V">V.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">It is Decided to Masquerade</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">In Which Romeo Becomes Dromio</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">In Which Dromio Becomes Romeo</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">The Princess Consults Jonesy</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">The Toreador Appears</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <a href="#CHAPTER_X">X.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">Of Certain Transpirings at a Caf&eacute; Table</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">The Passing Princess and the Mistaken Countess</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">Benton Must Decide</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;<a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">XIII.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">Concerning Farewells and Warnings</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">Countess and Cabinet Noir Join Forces</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<a href="#CHAPTER_XV">XV.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">The Toreador Becomes Ambassador</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">XVI.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">The Ambassador Becomes Admiral</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;<a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">XVII.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">Benton Calls on the King</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">XVIII.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">In Which the Sphinx Breaks Silence</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">XIX.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">The Jackal Takes the Trail</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<a href="#CHAPTER_XX">XX.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">The Death of Romance is Deplored</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">XXI.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">Naples Assumes New Beauty</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;<a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">XXII.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">The Sentry-box Answers the King's Query</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">XXIII.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;"<span class="smcap">Scarabs of a Dead Dynasty</span>"</li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">XXIV.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">In Which Kings and Commoners Discuss Love</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">XXV.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">Abdul Said Bey Effects a Rescue</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">XXVI.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">In a Curio Shop in Stamboul</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">XXVII.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">Benton Says Good-by</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">XXVIII.</a></span> &nbsp; &nbsp;<span class="smcap">Jusseret Makes a Report</span></li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="#BIOGRAPHIES">BIOGRAPHIES</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <a href="#CHARLES_NEVILLE_BUCK">Charles Neville Buck</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</li>
+<li><span class="mono">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; <a href="#PELHAM_GRANVILLE_WODEHOUSE">Pelham Granville Wodehouse</a></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>
+
+<div class="index">
+<ul>
+<li><a href="#illust-002.jpg">SHE HELD OUT HER HAND TO BENTON AND WATCHED, TRANCE-LIKE, HIS LOWERED HEAD AS HE BENT HIS LIPS TO HER FINGERS.</a></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+<li><a href="#illust-033.jpg">"PLEASE, SIR, DON'T STEP ON ME."</a></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+<li><a href="#illust-107.jpg">HIS TEETH GLEAMED WHITE AS HE CONTEMPLATED THE LITTLE SPURT OF HISSING FLAME.</a></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+<li><a href="#illust-315.jpg">CHARLES NEVILLE BUCK.</a></li>
+<li>&nbsp;</li>
+<li><a href="#illust-319.jpg">PELHAM GRANVILLE WODEHOUSE.</a></li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p>
+
+<h1>THE LIGHTED MATCH</h1>
+
+<p class='tbrk'>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2>
+
+<h3>AN OMEN IS CONSTRUED</h3>
+
+<p>"When a feller an' a gal washes their hands in the same basin at the
+same time, it's a tol'able good sign they won't git married this year."</p>
+
+<p>The oracle spoke through the bearded lips of a farmer perched on the top
+step of his cabin porch. The while he construed omens, a setter pup
+industriously gnawed at his boot-heels.</p>
+
+<p>The girl was bending forward, her fingers spread in a tin basin, as the
+man at her elbow poured water slowly from a gourd-dipper. Heaped, in
+disorder against the cabin wall, lay their red hunting-coats, crops, and
+riding gauntlets.</p>
+
+<p>The oracle tumbled the puppy down the steps and watched its return to
+the attack. Then with something of melancholy retrospect in his pale
+eyes he pursued his reflections. "Now there was Sissy Belmire an' Bud
+Thomas, been keeping company for two years, then washed hands in common
+at the Christian Endeavor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> picnic an'&mdash;" He broke off to shake his head
+in sorrowing memory.</p>
+
+<p>The young man, holding his muddied digits over the water, paused to
+consider the matter.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly his hands went down into the basin with a splash.</p>
+
+<p>"It is now the end of October," he enlightened; "next year comes in nine
+weeks."</p>
+
+<p>The sun was dipping into a cloud-bank already purpled and gold-rimmed.
+Shortly it would drop behind the bristling summit-line of the hills.</p>
+
+<p>The girl looked down at tell-tale streaks of red clay on the skirt of
+her riding habit, and shook her head. "'Twill never, never do to go back
+like this," she sighed. "They'll know I've come a cropper, and they
+fancy I'm as breakable as S&eacute;vres. There will be no end of questions."</p>
+
+<p>The young man dropped to his knees and began industriously plying a
+brush on the damaged skirt. The farmer took his eyes from the puppy for
+an upward glance. His face was solicitous.</p>
+
+<p>"When I saw that horse of yours fall down, it looked to me like he was
+trying to jam you through to China. You sure lit hard!"</p>
+
+<p>"It didn't hurt me," she laughed as she thrust her arms into the sleeves
+of her pink coat. "You see, we thought we knew the run better than the
+whips,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> and we chose the short cut across your meadow. My horse took off
+too wide at that stone fence. That's why he went down, and why we turned
+your house into a port of repairs. You have been very kind."</p>
+
+<p>The trio started down the grass-grown pathway to the gate where the
+hunters stood hitched. The young man dropped back a few paces to satisfy
+himself that she was not concealing some hurt. He knew her
+half-masculine contempt for acknowledging the fragility of her sex.</p>
+
+<p>Reassurance came as he watched her walking ahead with the unconscious
+grace that belonged to her pliant litheness and expressed itself in her
+superb, almost boyish carriage.</p>
+
+<p>When they had mounted and he had reined his bay down to the side of her
+roan, he sat studying her through half-closed, satisfied eyes though he
+already knew her as the Moslem priest knows the Koran. While they rode
+in silence he conned the inventory. Slim uprightness like the strength
+of a young poplar; eyes that played the whole color-gamut between violet
+and slate-gray, as does the Mediterranean under sun and cloud-bank; lips
+that in repose hinted at melancholy and that broke into magic with a
+smile. Then there was the suggestion of a thought-furrow between the
+brows and a chin delicately chiseled, but resolute and fascinatingly
+uptilted.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It was a face that triumphed over mere prettiness with hints of
+challenging qualities; with individuality, with possibilities of
+purpose, with glints of merry humor and unspoken sadness; with
+deep-sleeping potentiality for passion; with a hundred charming
+whimsicalities.</p>
+
+<p>The eyes were just now fixed on the burning beauty of the sunset and the
+thought-furrow was delicately accentuated. She drew a long, deep breath
+and, letting the reins drop, stretched out both arms toward the splendor
+of the sky-line.</p>
+
+<p>"It is so beautiful&mdash;so beautiful!" she cried, with the rapture of a
+child, "and it all spells Freedom. I should like to be the freest thing
+that has life under heaven. What is the freest thing in the world?"</p>
+
+<p>She turned her face on him with the question, and her eyes widened after
+a way they had until they seemed to be searching far out in the fields
+of untalked-of things, and seeing there something that clouded them with
+disquietude.</p>
+
+<p>"I should like to be a man," she went on, "a man and a <i>hobo</i>." The
+furrow vanished and the eyes suddenly went dancing. "That is what I
+should like to be&mdash;a hobo with a tomato-can and a fire beside the
+railroad-track."</p>
+
+<p>The man said nothing, and she looked up to encounter a steady gaze from
+eyes somewhat puzzled.</p>
+
+<p>His pupils held a note of pained seriousness, and her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> voice became
+responsively vibrant as she leaned forward with answering gravity in her
+own.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" she questioned. "You are troubled."</p>
+
+<p>He looked away beyond her to the pine-topped hills, which seemed to be
+marching with lances and ragged pennants, against the orange field of
+the sky. Then his glance came again to her face.</p>
+
+<p>"They call me the Shadow," he said slowly. "You know whose shadow that
+means. These weeks have made us comrades, and I am jealous because you
+are the sum of two girls, and I know only one of them. I am jealous of
+the other girl at home in Europe. I am jealous that I don't know why
+you, who are seemingly subject only to your own fancy, should crave the
+freedom of the hobo by the railroad track."</p>
+
+<p>She bent forward to adjust a twisted martingale, and for a moment her
+face was averted. In her hidden eyes at that moment, there was deep
+suffering, but when she straightened up she was smiling.</p>
+
+<p>"There is nothing that you shall not know. But not yet&mdash;not yet! After
+all, perhaps it's only that in another incarnation I was a vagrant bee
+and I'm homesick for its irresponsibility."</p>
+
+<p>"At all events"&mdash;he spoke with an access of boyish enthusiasm&mdash;"I 'thank
+whatever gods may be' that I have known you as I have. I'm glad that we
+have not just been idly rich together. Why, Cara, do<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> you remember the
+day we lost our way in the far woods, and I foraged corn, and you
+scrambled stolen eggs? We were forest folk that day; primitive as in the
+years when things were young and the best families kept house in caves."</p>
+
+<p>The girl nodded. "I approve of my shadow," she affirmed.</p>
+
+<p>The smile of enthusiasm died on his face and something like a scowl came
+there.</p>
+
+<p>"The chief trouble," he said, "is that altogether too decent brute,
+Pagratide. I don't like double shadows; they usually stand for confused
+lights."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you jealous of Pagratide?" she laughed. "He pretends to have a
+similar sentiment for you."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he conceded, laughing in spite of himself, "it does seem that
+when a European girl deigns to play a while with her American cousins,
+Europe might stay on its own side of the pond. This Pagratide is a
+commuter over the Northern Ocean track. He harasses the Atlantic with
+his goings and comings."</p>
+
+<p>"The Atlantic?" she echoed mockingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Possibly I was too modest," he amended. "I mean me and the
+Atlantic&mdash;particularly me."</p>
+
+<p>From around the curve of the road sounded a tempered shout. The girl
+laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"You seem to have summoned him out of space," she suggested.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The man growled. "The local from Europe appears to have arrived." He
+gathered in his reins with an almost vicious jerk which brought the
+bay's head up with a snort of remonstrance.</p>
+
+<p>A horseman appeared at the turn of the road. Waving his hat, he put
+spurs to his mount and came forward at a gallop. The newcomer rode with
+military uprightness, softened by the informal ease of the polo-player.
+Even at the distance, which his horse was lessening under the insistent
+pressure of his heels, one could note a boyish charm in the frankness of
+his smile and an eagerness in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I have been searching for you for centuries at least," he shouted, with
+a pleasantly foreign accent, which was rather a nicety than a fault of
+enunciation, "but the quest is amply rewarded!"</p>
+
+<p>He wheeled his horse to the left with a precision that again bespoke the
+cavalryman, and bending over the girl's gauntleted hand, kissed her
+fingers in a manner that added to something of ceremonious flourish much
+more of individual homage. Her smile of greeting was cordial, but a
+degree short of enthusiasm.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought&mdash;" she hesitated. "I thought you were on the other side."</p>
+
+<p>The newcomer's laugh showed a glistening line of the whitest teeth under
+a closely-cropped dark mustache.</p>
+
+<p>"I have run away," he declared. "My honored<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> father is, of course,
+furious, but Europe was desolate&mdash;and so&mdash;" He shrugged his shoulders.
+Then, noting Benton's half-amused, half-annoyed smile, he bowed and
+saluted. "Ah, Benton," he said. "How are you? I see that your eyes
+resent foreign invasion."</p>
+
+<p>Benton raised his brows in simulated astonishment. "Are you still
+foreign?" he inquired. "I thought perhaps you had taken out your first
+citizenship papers."</p>
+
+<p>"But you?" Pagratide turned to the girl with something of entreaty.
+"Will you not give me your welcome?"</p>
+
+<p>In the distance loomed the tile roofs and tall chimneys of "Idle Times."
+Between stretched a level sweep of road.</p>
+
+<p>"You didn't ask permission," she replied, with a touch of disquiet in
+her pupils. "When a woman is asked to extend a welcome, she must be
+given time to prepare it. I ran away from Europe, you know, and after
+all you are a part of Europe."</p>
+
+<p>She shook out her reins, bending forward over the roan's neck, and with
+a clatter of gravel under their twelve hoofs, the horses burst forward
+in a sudden neck and neck dash, toward the patch of red roofs set in a
+mosaic of Autumn woods.</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2>
+
+<h3>BENTON PLAYS MAGICIAN</h3>
+
+<p>In the large living-room, Van Bristow, the master of "Idle Times," had
+expressed his tastes. Here in the almost severe wainscoting, in
+inglenook and chimney-corner, one found the index to his fancy. It was
+his fancy which had dictated that the broad windows, with sills at the
+level of the floor, should not command the formal terraces and lawns of
+a landscape-gardener's devising, but should give exit instead upon a
+strip of rugged nature, where the murmur of the creek came up through
+unaltered foliage and underbrush.</p>
+
+<p>Shortening their entrance through one of the windows, the trio found
+their host, already in evening dress. Bristow was idling on the hearth
+with no more immediate concern than a cigarette and the enjoyment of the
+crackling logs, unspoiled by other light.</p>
+
+<p>As the clatter of boots and spurs announced their coming, Van glanced up
+and schooled his face into a very fair counterfeit of severity.</p>
+
+<p>"Lucky we don't make our people ring in on the clock," he observed. "You
+three would be docked."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The girl stood in the red glow of the hearth, slowly drawing off her
+riding-gauntlets.</p>
+
+<p>Pagratide went to the table in search of cigarettes and matches, and as
+the light there was dim, the host joined him and laid a hand readily
+enough upon the brass case for which the other was fumbling. As he held
+a light to his guest's cigarette, he bent over and spoke in a guarded
+undertone. Benton noticed in the brief flare that the visitor's face
+mirrored sudden surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Colonel Von Ritz is here," confided Bristow. "Arrived by the next train
+after you and was for posting off in search of you instanter. He acted
+very much like a summons-server or a bailiff. He's ensconced in rooms
+adjoining yours. You might look in on him as you go up to dress. He
+seems to be in the very devil of a hurry."</p>
+
+<p>Pagratide's brows went up in evident annoyance and for an instant there
+was a defiant stiffening of his jaw, but when he spoke his voice held
+neither excitement nor surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, indeed!" The exclamation was casual. He watched the glowing end of
+his cigarette for a moment, then magnanimously added: "However, since he
+has followed across three thousand miles, I had better see him."</p>
+
+<p>The host turned to the girl. "I'm borrowing this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> young man until
+dinner," he vouchsafed as he led Pagratide to the door.</p>
+
+<p>Cara stood watching the two as they passed into the hall; then her face
+changed suddenly as though she had been leaving a stage and had laid
+aside a part&mdash;abandoning a semblance which it was no longer necessary to
+maintain. A pained droop came to the corners of her lips and she dropped
+wearily into the broad oak seat of the inglenook. There she sat, with
+her chin propped on her hands, elbows on her knees, and gazed silently
+at the logs.</p>
+
+<p>"Why did they have to come just now and spoil my holiday?"</p>
+
+<p>She spoke as though unconscious that her musings were finding voice, and
+the half-whispered words were wistful. Benton took a step nearer and
+bent impulsively forward.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" he anxiously questioned.</p>
+
+<p>She only looked intently into the coals with trouble-clouded eyes and
+shook her head. He could not tell whether in response to his words or to
+some thought of her own.</p>
+
+<p>Dropping on one knee at her feet, he gently covered her hands with his
+own. He could feel the delicate play of her breath on his forehead.</p>
+
+<p>"Cara," he whispered, "what is it, dear?"</p>
+
+<p>She started, and with a spasmodic movement caught<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> one of his hands, for
+an instant pressing it in her own, then, rising, she shook her head with
+a gesture of the fingers at the temples as though she would brush away
+cobwebs that enmeshed and fogged the brain.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing, boy." Her smile was somewhat wistful. "Nothing but silly
+imaginings." She laughed and when she spoke again her voice was as light
+as if her world held only triviality and laughter. "Yet there be
+important things to decide. What shall I wear for dinner?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's such a hard question," he demurred. "I like you best in so many
+things, but the queen can do no wrong&mdash;make no mistake."</p>
+
+<p>A sudden shadow of pain crossed her eyes, and she caught her lower lip
+sharply between her teeth.</p>
+
+<p>"Was it something I said?" he demanded.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing," she answered slowly. "Only don't say that again, ever&mdash;'the
+queen can do no wrong.' Now, I must go."</p>
+
+<p>She rose and turned toward the door, then suddenly carrying one hand to
+her eyes, she took a single unsteady step and swayed as though she would
+fall. Instantly his arms were around her and for a moment he could feel,
+in its wild fluttering, her heart against the red breast of his
+hunting-coat.</p>
+
+<p>Her laugh was a little shaken as she drew away from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> him and stood,
+still a trifle unsteady. Her voice was surcharged with self-contempt.</p>
+
+<p>"Sir Gray Eyes, I&mdash;I ask you to believe that I don't habitually fall
+about into people's arms. I'm developing nerves&mdash;there is a white
+feather in my moral and mental plumage."</p>
+
+<p>He looked at her with grave eyes, from which he sternly banished all
+questioning&mdash;and remained silent.</p>
+
+<p>They passed out into the hall and, at the foot of the stairs where their
+ways diverged, she paused to look back at him with an unclouded smile.</p>
+
+<p>"You have not told me what to wear."</p>
+
+<p>His eyes were as steady as her own. "You will please wear the black gown
+with the shimmery things all over it. I can't describe it, but I can
+remember it. And a single red rose," he judiciously added.</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis October and the florists are fifty miles away," she demurred. "It
+would take a magician's wand to produce the red rose."</p>
+
+<p>"I noticed a funny looking thing among my golf sticks," he remembered.
+"It is a little bit like a niblick, but it may be a magic wand in
+disguise. You wear the black gown and trust to providence for the red
+rose."</p>
+
+<p>She threw back a laugh and was gone.</p>
+
+<p>When she disappeared at the turning, he wheeled and went to the
+"bachelors' barracks," as the master of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> "Idle Times" dubbed the wing
+where the unmarried men were quartered.</p>
+
+<p>Two suites next adjoining the room allotted to Benton had been
+unoccupied when he had gone out that forenoon. Between his quarters and
+these erstwhile vacant ones lay a room forming a sort of buffer space.
+Here a sideboard, a card-table, and desk made the "neutral zone," as Van
+called it, available for his guests as a territory either separating or
+connecting their individual chambers.</p>
+
+<p>Now a blaze of transoms and a sound of voices proclaimed that the
+apartments were tenanted. Benton entered his own unlighted room, and
+then with his hand at the electric switch halted in embarrassment.</p>
+
+<p>The folding-doors between his apartment and the "neutral territory"
+stood wide, and the attitudes and voices of the two men he saw there
+indicated their interview to be one in which outsiders should have no
+concern. To switch on the light would be to declare himself a witness to
+a part at least; to remain would be to become unwilling auditor to more;
+to open the door he had just closed behind him would also be to attract
+attention to himself. He paused in momentary uncertainty.</p>
+
+<p>One of the men was Pagratide, transformed by anger; seemingly taller,
+darker, lither. The second man stood calm, immobile, with his arms
+crossed on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> his breast, bending an impassive glance on the other from
+singularly steady eyes. His six feet of well-proportioned stature just
+missed an exaggeration of soldierly bearing.</p>
+
+<p>The unwavering mouth-line; level, dark brows almost meeting over
+unflinching gray eyes; the uncurved nose and commanding forehead were in
+concert with the clean, almost lean sweep of the jaw, in spelling force
+for field or council.</p>
+
+<p>"Am I a brigand, Von Ritz, to be harassed by police? Answer me&mdash;am I?"
+Pagratide spoke in a tempest of anger. He halted before the other man,
+his hands twitching in fury.</p>
+
+<p>Von Ritz remained as motionless, apparently as mildly interested, as
+though he were listening to the screaming of a parrot.</p>
+
+<p>"My orders were explicit." His words fell icily. "They were the orders
+of His Majesty's government. I shall obey them. I beg pardon, I shall
+attempt to obey them; and thus far my attempts to serve His Majesty have
+not encountered failure. I should prefer not having to call on the
+ambassador&mdash;or the American secret service."</p>
+
+<p>"By God! If I had a sword&mdash;" breathed Pagratide. His fury had gone
+through heat to cold, and his attitude was that of a man denied the
+opportunity of resenting a mortal affront.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Von Ritz coolly inclined his head, indicating the heaped-up luggage on
+the table between them. Otherwise he did not move.</p>
+
+<p>"The stick there, on the table, is a sword-cane," he commented.</p>
+
+<p>Pagratide stood unmoving.</p>
+
+<p>The other waited a moment, almost deferentially, then went on with calm
+deliberation.</p>
+
+<p>"You left your regiment without leave, captain. One might almost call
+that&mdash;" Then Benton remembered an auxiliary door at the back of his
+apartment and made his escape unnoticed.</p>
+
+<p>A half hour later, changed from boots and breeches into evening dress,
+Benton was opening a long package which bore the name of his florist in
+town. In another moment he had spread a profusion of roses on his table
+and stood bending over them with the critically selective gaze of a
+Paris.</p>
+
+<p>When he had made the choice of one, he carefully pared every thorn from
+its long stem. Then he went out through the rear of the hall to a
+stairway at the back.</p>
+
+<p>He knew of a window-seat above, where he could wait in concealment
+behind a screening mass of potted palms to rise out of his ambush and
+intercept Cara as she came into the hall. It pleased him to regard
+himself as a genie, materializing out of emptiness to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> present the rose
+which she had chosen to declare unobtainable.</p>
+
+<p>In the shadowed recess he ensconced himself with his knees drawn up and
+the flower twirling idly between his fingers.</p>
+
+<p>For a while he measured his vigil only by the ticking of a clock
+somewhere out of sight, then he heard a quiet footfall on the hardwood,
+and through the fronds of the plants he saw a man's figure pace slowly
+by. The broad shoulders and the lancelike carriage proclaimed Von Ritz
+even before the downcast face was raised. At Cara's door the European
+wheeled uncertainly and paused. Because something vague and subconscious
+in Benton's mind had catalogued this man as a harbinger of trouble and
+branded him with distrust, his own eyes contracted and the rose ceased
+twirling.</p>
+
+<p>Just then the door of Cara's room opened and closed, and the slender
+figure of the girl stood out in the silhouette of her black evening gown
+against the white woodwork. Her eyes widened and she paled perceptibly.
+For an instant, she caught her lower lip between her teeth; but she did
+not, by start or other overt manifestation, give sign of surprise. She
+only inclined her head in greeting, and waited for Von Ritz to speak.</p>
+
+<p>He bowed low, and his manner was ceremonious.</p>
+
+<p>"You do not like me&mdash;" He smiled, pausing as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> though in doubt as to what
+form of address he should employ; then he asked: "What shall I call
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Carstow," she prompted, in a voice that seemed to raise a
+quarantine flag above him.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, Miss Carstow," he continued gravely. "Time has elapsed since
+the days of your pinafores and braids, when I was honored with the
+sobriquet of 'Soldier-man' and you were the 'Little Empress.'"</p>
+
+<p>His voice was one that would have lent itself to eloquence. Now its even
+modulation carried a sort of cold charm.</p>
+
+<p>"You do not like me," he repeated.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," she answered simply. "I hadn't thought about it. I was
+surprised."</p>
+
+<p>"Naturally." He contemplated her with grave eyes that seemed to admit no
+play of expression. "I came only to ask an interview later. At any time
+that may be most agreeable&mdash;Pardon me," he interrupted himself with a
+certain cynical humor in his voice, "at any time, I should say, that may
+be least disagreeable to you."</p>
+
+<p>"I will tell you later," she said. He bowed himself backward, then
+turning on his heel went silently down the stairs.</p>
+
+<p>She stood hesitant for a moment, with both hands pressed against the
+door at her back, and her brow drawn in a deep furrow, then she threw
+her chin upward<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> and shook her head with that resolute gesture which
+meant, with her, shaking off at least the outward seeming of annoyance.</p>
+
+<p>Benton came out from his hiding-place behind the palms, and she looked
+up at him with a momentary clearing of her brow.</p>
+
+<p>"Where were you?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I unintentionally played eavesdropper," he said humbly, handing her the
+rose. "I was lying in wait to decorate you."</p>
+
+<p>"It is wonderful," she exclaimed. "I think it is the wonderfulest rose
+that any little girl ever had for a magic gift." She held it for a
+moment, softly against her cheek.</p>
+
+<p>He bent forward. "Cara!" he whispered. No answer. "Cara!" he repeated.</p>
+
+<p>"Yeth, thir," she lisped in a whimsical little-girl voice, looking up
+with a smile stolen from a fairy-tale.</p>
+
+<p>"I am just lending you that rose. I had meant to give it to you, but
+<i>now</i> I want it back&mdash;when you are through with it. May I have it?"</p>
+
+<p>She held it out teasingly. "Do you want it now&mdash;Indian-giver?" she
+demanded.</p>
+
+<p>"You know I don't," in an injured tone.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad, because you couldn't have it&mdash;yet." And she was gone, leaving
+him to make his appearance from the direction of his own apartments.</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2>
+
+<h3>THE MOON OVERHEARS</h3>
+
+<p>At dinner the talk ran for a course or two with the hounds, then strayed
+aimlessly into a dozen discursive channels.</p>
+
+<p>"My boy," whispered Mrs. Van from her end of the table, to Pagratide on
+her right, "I relinquish you to the girl on your other side. You have
+made a very brave effort to talk to me. Ah, I know&mdash;" raising a slender
+hand to still his polite remonstrance&mdash;"there is no Cara but Cara, and
+Pagratide is&mdash;" She let her mischief-laden smile finish the comment.</p>
+
+<p>"Her satellite," he confessed.</p>
+
+<p>"One of them," she wickedly corrected him.</p>
+
+<p>The foreigner turned his head and nodded gravely. Cara was listening to
+something that Benton was saying in undertone, her lips parted in an
+amused smile.</p>
+
+<p>Through a momentary lull as the coffee came, rose the voice of
+O'Barreton, the bore, near the head of the table; O'Barreton, who must
+be tolerated because as a master of hounds he had no superior and a bare
+quorum of equals.</p>
+
+<p>"For my part," he was saying, "I confess an aug<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>mented admiration for
+Van because he's distantly related to near-royalty. If that be snobbish,
+make the most of it."</p>
+
+<p>Van laughed. "Related to royalty?" he scornfully repeated. "Am I not
+myself a sovereign with the right on election day to stand in line
+behind my chauffeur and stable-boys at the voting-place?"</p>
+
+<p>"How did it happen, Van? How did you acquire your gorgeous relatives?"
+persisted O'Barreton.</p>
+
+<p>"Some day I'll tell you all about it. Do you think the Elkridge hounds
+will run&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I addressed a question to you. That question is still before the
+house," interrupted O'Barreton, with dignity. "How did you acquire 'em?"</p>
+
+<p>"Inherited 'em!" snapped Van, but O'Barreton was not to be turned aside.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite true and quite epigrammatic," he persisted sweetly. "But how?"</p>
+
+<p>Van turned to the rest of the table. "You don't have to listen to this,"
+he said in despair. "I have to go through it with O'Barreton every time
+he comes here. It's a sort of ritual." Then, turning to the tormenting
+guest, he explained carefully: "Once upon a time the Earl of Dundredge
+had three daughters. The eldest&mdash;my mother&mdash;married an American husband.
+The second married an Englishman&mdash;she is the mother of my fair cousin,
+Cara, there; the third and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> youngest married the third son of the Grand
+Duke of Maritzburg, at that time a quiet gentleman who loved the Champs
+Elys&eacute;es and landscape-painting in Southern Spain."</p>
+
+<p>Van traced a family-tree on the tablecloth with a salt-spoon, for his
+guest's better information.</p>
+
+<p>"That doesn't enlighten me on the semi-royal status of your Aunt
+Maritzburg," objected O'Barreton. "How did she grow so great?"</p>
+
+<p>"Vicissitudes, Barry," explained the host patiently. "Just vicissitudes.
+The father and the two elder brothers died off and left the third son to
+assume the government of a grand duchy, which he did not want, and
+compelled him to relinquish the mahl-stick and brushes which he loved.
+My aunt was his grand-duchess-consort, and until her death occupied with
+him the ducal throne. If you'd look these things up for yourself, my
+son, in some European 'Who's Who,' you'd remember 'em&mdash;and save me much
+trouble."</p>
+
+<p>After dinner Cara disappeared, and Benton wandered from room to room
+with a seemingly purposeless eye, keenly alert for a black gown, a red
+rose, and a girl whom he could not find. Von Ritz also was missing, and
+this fact added to his anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>In the conservatory he came upon Pagratide, likewise stalking about with
+restlessly roving eyes, like a hunter searching a jungle. The foreigner
+paused with one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> foot tapping the marble rim of a small fountain, and
+Benton passed with a nod.</p>
+
+<p>The evening went by without her reappearance, and finally the house
+darkened, and settled into quiet. Benton sought the open, driven by a
+restlessness that obsessed and troubled him. A fitful breeze brought
+down the dead leaves in swirling eddies. The moon was under a cloud-bank
+when, a quarter of a mile from the house, he left the smooth lawns and
+plunged among the vine-clad trees and thickets that rimmed the creek. In
+the darkness, he could hear the low, wild plaint with which the stream
+tossed itself over the rocks that cumbered its bed.</p>
+
+<p>Beyond the thicket he came again to a more open space among the trees,
+free from underbrush, but strewn at intervals with great bowlders. He
+picked his way cautiously, mindful of crevices where a broken leg or
+worse might be the penalty of a misstep in the darkness. The humor
+seized him to sit on a great rock which dropped down twenty feet to the
+creek bed, and listen to the quieting music of its night song. His eyes,
+grown somewhat accustomed to the darkness, had been blinded again by the
+match he had just struck to light a cigarette, and he walked, as it
+behooved him, carefully and gropingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Please, sir, don't step on me."</p>
+
+<p>Benton halted with a start and stared confusedly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> about him. A ripple of
+low laughter came to his ears as he widened his pupils in the effort to
+accommodate his eyes to the murk. Then the moon broke out once more and
+the place became one of silver light and dark, soft shadow-blots. She
+was sitting with her back against a tree, her knees gathered between her
+arms, fingers interlocked. She had thrown a long, rough cape about her,
+but it had fallen open, leaving visible the black gown and a spot he
+knew to be a red rose on her breast.</p>
+
+<p>He stood looking down, and she smiled up.</p>
+
+<p>"Cara!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here&mdash;alone?"</p>
+
+<p>"Seeking freedom," she responded calmly. "It's not so good as the hobo's
+fire beside the track, but it's better than four walls. The moon has
+been wonderful, Sir Gray Eyes&mdash;as bright and dark as life; radiant a
+little while and hidden behind clouds a great deal. And the wind has
+been whispering like a troubadour to the tree-tops."</p>
+
+<p>"And you," he interrupted severely, dropping on the earth at her feet
+and propping himself on one elbow, "have been sitting in the chilling
+air, with your throat uncovered and probably catching cold."</p>
+
+<p>"What a matter-of-fact person it is!" she laughed. "I didn't appoint you
+my physician, you know."</p>
+
+<p class="center"><a name="illust-033.jpg" id="illust-033.jpg"></a><img src="images/illust-033.jpg" width='593' height='700' alt="PLEASE, SIR, DON'T STEP ON ME." /></p>
+
+<h4>"PLEASE, SIR, DON'T STEP ON ME."</h4>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>"But your coming alone out here in these woods, and so late!" he
+expostulated.</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?" She looked frankly up at him. "I am not afraid."</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid for you." He spoke seriously.</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" she inquired again.</p>
+
+<p>He knelt beside her, looking directly into her eyes. "For many reasons,"
+he said. "But above all else, because I love you."</p>
+
+<p>The fingers of her clasped hands tightened until they strained, and she
+looked straight away across the clearing. The moon was bright now, and
+the thought-furrow showed deep between her brows, but she said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>The tree-tops whispered, and the girl shivered slightly. He bent forward
+and folded the cape across her throat. Still she did not move.</p>
+
+<p>"Cara, I love you," he repeated insistently.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't&mdash;I can't listen." Her voice was one of forced calm. Then, turning
+suddenly, she laid her hand on his arm. It trembled violently under her
+touch. "And, oh, boy," she broke out, with a voice of pent-up vibrance,
+"don't you see how I want to listen to you?"</p>
+
+<p>He bent forward until he was very close, and his tone was almost fierce
+in its tense eagerness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You want to! Why?"</p>
+
+<p>Again a tremor seized her, then with the sudden abandon of one who
+surrenders to an impulse stronger than one's self, she leaned forward
+and placed a hand on each of his shoulders, clutching him almost wildly.
+Her eyes glowed close to his own.</p>
+
+<p>"Because I love you, too," she said. Then, with a break in her voice:
+"Oh, you knew that! Why did you make me say it?"</p>
+
+<p>While the stars seemed to break out in a chorus above him, he found his
+arms about her, and was vaguely conscious that his lips were smothering
+some words her lips were trying to shape. Words seemed to him just then
+so superfluous.</p>
+
+<p>There was a tumult of pounding pulses in his veins, responsive to the
+fluttering heart which beat back of a crushed rose in the lithe being he
+held in his arms. Then he obeyed the pressure of the hands on his
+shoulders and released her.</p>
+
+<p>"Why should you find it so hard to say?" He asked.</p>
+
+<p>She sat for a moment with her hands covering her face.</p>
+
+<p>"You must never do that again," she said faintly. "You have not the
+right. I have not the right."</p>
+
+<p>"I have the only right," he announced triumphantly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She shook her head. "Not when the girl is engaged."</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him with a sad droop at the corners of her lips. He sat
+silent&mdash;waiting.</p>
+
+<p>"Listen!" She spoke wearily, rising and leaning against the rough bole
+of the tree at her back, with both hands tightly clasped behind her.
+"Listen and don't interrupt, because it's hard, and I want to finish
+it." Her words came slowly with labored calm, almost as if she were
+reciting memorized lines. "It sounds simple from your point of view. It
+is simple from mine, but desperately hard. Love is not the only thing.
+To some of us there is something else that must come first. I am
+engaged, and I shall marry the man to whom I am engaged. Not because I
+want to, but because&mdash;" her chin went up with the determination that was
+in her&mdash;"because I must."</p>
+
+<p>"What kind of man will ask you to keep a promise that your heart
+repudiates?" he hotly demanded.</p>
+
+<p>"He knew that I loved you before you knew it," she answered; "that I
+would always love you&mdash;that I would never love him. Besides, he must do
+it. After all, it's fortunate that he wants to." She tried to laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Is his name Pagratide?" The man mechanically drew his handkerchief from
+his cuff, and wiped beads of cold moisture from his forehead.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The girl shook her head. "No, his name is not Pagratide."</p>
+
+<p>He took a step nearer, but she raised a hand to wave him back, and he
+bowed his submission.</p>
+
+<p>"You love me&mdash;you are certain of that?" he whispered.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you doubt it?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said, "I don't doubt it."</p>
+
+<p>Again he pressed the handkerchief to his forehead, and in the silvering
+radiance of the moonlight she could see the outstanding tracery of the
+arteries on his temples.</p>
+
+<p>Instantly she flung both arms about his neck.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't!" she cried passionately. "Don't look like that! You will kill
+me!"</p>
+
+<p>He smiled. "Under such treatment, I shall look precisely as you say," he
+acquiesced.</p>
+
+<p>"Listen, dear." She was talking rapidly, wildly, her arms still about
+his neck. "There are two miserable little kingdoms over there....
+Horrible little two-by-four principalities, that fit into the map of
+Europe like little, ragged chips in a mosaic.... Cousin Van lied in
+there to protect my disguise.... It is my father who is the Grand Duke
+of Maritzburg, and it is ordained that I shall marry Prince Karyl of
+Galavia.... It was Von Ritz's mission to re<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span>mind me of my slavery." Her
+voice rose in sudden protest. "Every peasant girl in the vineyards may
+select her own lover, but I must be awarded by the crowned heads of the
+real kingdoms&mdash;like a prize in a lottery. Do you wonder that I have run
+away and masqueraded for a taste of freedom before the end? Do you
+wonder"&mdash;the head came down on his shoulder&mdash;"that I want to be a hobo
+with a tomato-can and a fire of deadwood?"</p>
+
+<p>He kissed her hair. "Are you crying, Cara, dear?" he asked softly.</p>
+
+<p>Her head came up. "I never cry," she answered. "Do you believe there are
+more lives&mdash;other incarnations&mdash;that I may yet live to be a
+butterfly&mdash;or a vagrant bee?"</p>
+
+<p>"I believe"&mdash;his voice was firm&mdash;"I believe you are not Queen of Galavia
+yet by a good bit. There's a fairly husky American anarchist in this
+game, dearest, who has designs on that dynasty."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't!" she begged. "Don't you see that I wouldn't let them force me?
+It is that I see the inexorable call of it, as my father saw it when he
+left his studio in Paris for a throne that meant only unhappiness&mdash;as
+you would see it, if your country called for volunteers."</p>
+
+<p>He bowed his head. For a moment neither spoke.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> Then she took the rose
+from her breast and kissed it.</p>
+
+<p>"Sir Knight of the Red Rose," she said, with a pitifully forced smile.
+"I don't want to give it back&mdash;ever. I want to keep it always."</p>
+
+<p>He took her in his arms, and she offered no protest.</p>
+
+<p>"To-morrow is to-morrow," he said. "To-day you are mine. I love you."</p>
+
+<p>She took his head between her palms and drew his face down. "I shall
+never do this with anyone else," she said slowly, kissing his forehead.
+"I love you."</p>
+
+<p>Slowly they turned together toward the house.</p>
+
+<p>"I like your cavalryman, Pagratide," he said thoughtfully. His mind had
+suddenly recurred to the scene in the foreigner's room, and he thought
+he began to understand. "He is a man. He dares to challenge royal wrath
+by venturing his love in the lists against his prince."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish he had not come," she said slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"But you don't love him?" he demanded with sudden unreasoning jealousy.</p>
+
+<p>"I love&mdash;just, only, solely, you, Mr. Monopoly," she replied.</p>
+
+<p>At the door they paused. There was complete silence save for a clock
+striking two and the distant crowing of a cock. The pause belonged to
+them&mdash;their moment of reprieve.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>At last she said quietly: "But you are stupid not to guess it."</p>
+
+<p>"Guess what?" he inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"There is no Pagratide. Pagratide's real name is Karyl of Galavia."</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+
+<h3>THE DOCTRINE ACCORDING TO JONESY</h3>
+
+<p>If the living-room at "Idle Times" bore the impress of Van Bristow's
+individuality and taste, his den was the tangible setting of his
+personality.</p>
+
+<p>His marriage had, only eighteen months before, cut his life sharply with
+the boundary of an epoch. The den bore something of the atmosphere of a
+museum dedicated to past eras. It was crowded with useless junk that
+stood for divers memories and much wandering. Many of the pictures that
+cumbered the walls were redolent of the atmosphere of overseas.</p>
+
+<p>There were photographs wherein the master of "Idle Times" and Mr. George
+Benton appeared together, ranging from ancient football days to
+snapshots of a mountain-climbing expedition in the Andes, dated only two
+years back.</p>
+
+<p>It was into this sanctum that Benton clanked, booted and spurred, early
+the following morning.</p>
+
+<p>Ostensibly Van was looking over business letters, but there was a trace
+of wander-lust in the eyes that strayed off with dreamy truancy beyond
+the tree-tops.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Benton planted himself before his host with folded arms, and stood
+looking down almost accusingly into the face of his old friend.</p>
+
+<p>"Whenever I have anything particularly unpleasant to do," began the
+guest, "I do it quick. That's why I'm here now."</p>
+
+<p>Van Bristow looked up, mildly astonished.</p>
+
+<p>During a decade of intimacy these two men had joyously, affectionately
+and consistently insulted each other on all possible occasions. Now,
+however, there was a certain purposeful ring in Benton's voice which
+told the other this was quite different from the time-honored
+affectation of slander. Consequently his demand for further
+enlightenment came with terse directness.</p>
+
+<p>Benton nodded and a defiant glint came to his pupils.</p>
+
+<p>"I come to serve notice," he announced briefly, "of something I mean to
+do."</p>
+
+<p>Van took the pipe from his mouth and regarded it with concentrated
+attention, while his friend went on in carefully gauged voice.</p>
+
+<p>"I am here," he explained, "as a guest in your house. I mean to make war
+on certain plans and arrangements which presumably have your sympathy
+and support&mdash;and I mean to make the hardest war I know." He paused, but
+as Van gave no indication of cutting in, he went on in aggressive
+announcement. "What<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> I mean to do is my business&mdash;mine and a girl's&mdash;but
+since she is your kinswoman and this is your place, it wouldn't be quite
+fair to begin without warning."</p>
+
+<p>For a time Bristow's attitude remained that of deep and silent
+reflection. Finally he knocked the ashes from his pipe and came over
+until he stood directly confronting Benton.</p>
+
+<p>"So she has told you?" was his brief question at last.</p>
+
+<p>The other nodded.</p>
+
+<p>The master of "Idle Times" paced thoughtfully up and down the room. When
+at length he stopped it was to clap his hand on his class-mate's
+shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"George," he said, with a voice hardened to edit down the note of
+sympathy that threatened it, "you seem to start out with the assumption
+that I am against you. Get that out of your head. Cara has hungered for
+freedom. We've felt that she had the right to, at least, her little
+intervals of recess. It happened that she could have them here. Here she
+could be Miss Carstow&mdash;and cease to be Cara of Maritzburg. I am sorry if
+you&mdash;and she&mdash;must pay for these vacations with your happiness. I see
+now that people who are sentenced to imprisonment, should not play with
+liberty."</p>
+
+<p>"She is not going to play with liberty," declared Benton categorically.
+"She is going to have it. She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> is going to have for the rest of her life
+just what she wants." He lifted his hand in protest against anticipated
+interruption. "I know that you have got to line up with your royal
+relatives. I know the utter impossibility of what I want&mdash;but I'm going
+to win. If you regard me as a burglar, you may turn me out, but you
+can't stop me."</p>
+
+<p>"I sha'n't turn you out," mused Van quietly. "I wish you could win. But
+you are not merely fighting people. You are fighting an idea. It is only
+for an idea that men and women martyr themselves. With Cara this idea
+has become morbid&mdash;an obsession. She has inherited it together with an
+abnormally developed courage, and her conception of courage is to face
+what she most hates and fears."</p>
+
+<p>"But if I can show her that it is a mistaken courage&mdash;that instead of
+loyalty it is desertion?" The man spoke with quick eagerness.</p>
+
+<p>Van shook his head, and his eyes clouded with the gravity of sympathy
+for a futile resolve.</p>
+
+<p>"That you can't do. I am an American myself. I'm not policing thrones.
+To me it seems a monstrous thing that a girl superbly American in
+everything but the accident of birth should have no chance&mdash;no
+opportunity to escape life-imprisonment. It doesn't altogether
+compensate that the prison happens to be a palace."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>For a time neither spoke, then Bristow went on.</p>
+
+<p>"At the age of five, Cara stood before a mirror and critically surveyed
+herself. At the end of the scrutiny she turned away with a satisfied
+sigh. 'I finks I'm lovely,' she announced. At five one is frank. Her
+verdict has since then been duly and reliably confirmed by everyone who
+has known her&mdash;yet she might as well have been born into unbeautiful,
+hopeless slavery."</p>
+
+<p>Benton went to the window and stood moodily looking out. Finally he
+wheeled to demand: "How did the crown of Maritzburg come to your uncle?"</p>
+
+<p>"When he married my aunt," said Bristow, "he fancied himself
+safe-guarded from the ducal throne by two older brothers. That's why he
+was able to choose his own wife. He was dedicated with passionate
+loyalty to his brushes and paint tubes. He saw before him achievement of
+that sort. Assassination claimed his father and brothers, and, facing
+the same peril, he took up the distasteful duties of government. My
+aunt's life was intolerably shadowed by the terror of violence for him.
+She died at Cara's birth and the child inherited all the protest and
+acceptance so paradoxically bequeathed by her heart-broken mother."</p>
+
+<p>"Realizing that Cara could not hope to escape a royal marriage, her
+father looked toward Galavia. There at least the strain was clean ...
+untouched<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> by degeneracy and untainted with libertinism. Karyl is as
+decent a chap as yourself. He loves her, and though he knows she accepts
+him only from compulsion, he believes he can eventually win her love as
+well as her mere acquiescence. It's all as final as the laws of the
+Medes and Persians."</p>
+
+<p>Again there was a long silence. Bristow began to wonder if it was, with
+his friend, the silence of despair and surrender. At last Benton lifted
+his face and his jaw was set unyieldingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Personally," he commented quietly, "I have decided otherwise."</p>
+
+<hr class='smler' />
+
+<p>Despite the raw edge on the air, the hardier guests at "Idle Times"
+still clung to those outdoor sports which properly belonged to the
+summer. That afternoon a canoeing expedition was made up river to
+explore a cave which tradition had endowed with some legendary tale of
+pioneer days and Indian warfare.</p>
+
+<p>Pagratide, having organized the expedition with that object in view, had
+made use of his prior knowledge to enlist Cara for the crew of his
+canoe, but Benton, covering a point that Pagratide had overlooked,
+pointed out that an engagement to go up the river in a canoe is entirely
+distinct from an engagement to come down the river in a canoe. He cited
+so many excellent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> authorities in support of his contention that the
+matter was decided in his favor for the return trip, and Mrs.
+Porter-Woodleigh, all unconscious that her escort was a Crown Prince,
+found in him an introspective and altogether uninteresting young man.</p>
+
+<p>Benton and the girl in one canoe, were soon a quarter of a mile in
+advance of the others, and lifting their paddles from the water they
+floated with the slow current. The singing voices of the party behind
+them came softly adrift along the water. All of the singers were young
+and the songs had to do with sentiment.</p>
+
+<p>The girl buttoned her sweater closer about her throat. The man stuffed
+tobacco into the bowl of his pipe and bent low to kindle it into a
+cheerful spot of light.</p>
+
+<p>A belated lemon afterglow lingered at the edge of the sky ahead. Against
+it the gaunt branches of a tall tree traced themselves starkly. Below
+was the silent blackness of the woods.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Benton raised his head.</p>
+
+<p>"I have a present for you," he announced.</p>
+
+<p>"A present?" echoed the girl. "Be careful, Sir Gray Eyes. You played the
+magician once and gave me a rose. It was such a wonderful rose"&mdash;she
+spoke almost tenderly,&mdash;"that it has spoiled me. No commonplace gift
+will be tolerated after that."</p>
+
+<p>"This is a different sort of present," he assured her. "This is a god."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"A what!" Cara was at the stern with the guiding paddle. The man leaned
+back, steadying the canoe with a hand on each gunwale, and smiled into
+her face.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he said, "he is a god made out of clay with a countenance that is
+most unlovely and a complexion like an earthenware jar. I acquired him
+in the Andes for a few <i>centavos</i>. Since then we have been companions.
+In his day he had his place in a splendid temple of the Sun Worshipers.
+When I rescued him he was squatting cross-legged on a counter among
+silver and copper trinkets belonging to a civilization younger than his
+own. When you've been a god and come to be a souvenir of ruins and dead
+things&mdash;" the man paused for a moment, then with the ghost of a laugh
+went on, "&mdash;it makes you see things differently. In the twisted squint
+of his small clay face one reads slight regard for mere systems and
+codes."</p>
+
+<p>He paused so long that she prompted him in a voice that threatened to
+become unsteady. "Tell me more about him. What is his godship's name?"</p>
+
+<p>"He looked so protestingly wise," Benton went on, "that I named him
+Jonesy. I liked that name because it fitted him so badly. Jonesy is not
+conventional in his ideas, but his morals are sound. He has seen
+religions and civilizations and dynasties flourish and decay, and it has
+all given him a certain perspective on life. He has occasionally given
+me good council."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He paused again, but, noting that the singing voices were drawing
+nearer, he continued more rapidly.</p>
+
+<p>"In Alaska I used to lie flat on my cot before a great open fire and his
+god-ship would perch cross-legged on my chest. When I breathed, he
+seemed to shake his fat sides and laugh. When a pagan god from Peru
+laughs at you in a Yukon cabin, the situation calls for attention. I
+gave attention.</p>
+
+<p>"Jonesy said that the major human motives sweep in deep channels,
+full-tide ahead. He said you might in some degree regulate their floods
+by rearing abutments, but that when you try to build a dam to stop the
+Amazon you are dealing with folly. He argued that when one sets out to
+dam up the tides set flowing back in the tributaries of the heart it is
+written that one must fail. That is the gospel according to Jonesy."</p>
+
+<p>He turned his face to the front and shot the canoe forward. There was
+silence except for the quiet dipping of their paddles, the dripping of
+the water from the lifted blades, and the song drifting down river.
+Finally Benton added:</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what he will say to you, but perhaps he will give you good
+advice&mdash;on those matters which the centuries can't change."</p>
+
+<p>Cara's voice came soft, with a hint of repressed tears. "He has already
+given me good advice, dear&mdash;" she said, "good advice that I can't
+follow."</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2>
+
+<h3>IT IS DECIDED TO MASQUERADE</h3>
+
+<p>The first day of quail-shooting found Van Bristow's guests afield.</p>
+
+<p>Separated from the others, Benton and Cara came upon a small grove, like
+an oasis in the stretching acres of stubble. Under a scarlet maple that
+reared itself skyward all aflame, and shielded by a festooning profusion
+of wild-grape, a fallen beech-trunk offered an inviting seat. The girl
+halted and grounded arms.</p>
+
+<p>The man seated himself at her feet and looked up. He framed a question,
+then hesitated, fearing the answer. Finally he spoke, controlling his
+voice with an effort.</p>
+
+<p>"Cara," he questioned, "how long have I?"</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes widened as if with terror. "A very&mdash;very little time, dear,"
+she said. "It frightens me to think how little. Then&mdash;then&mdash;nothing but
+memory. Do you realize what it all means?" She leaned forward and laid a
+hand on each of his shoulders. "Just one week more, and after that I
+shall look out to sea when the sun sinks, red and sullen, into leaden
+waters and think of&mdash;of Arcady&mdash;and you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Don't, Cara!" He seized her hands and went on talking fast and
+vehemently. "Listen! I love you&mdash;that is not a unique thing. You love
+me&mdash;that is the miracle. And because of a distorted idea of duty, our
+lives must go to wreck. Don't you see the situation is
+ludicrous&mdash;intolerable? You are trying to live a medieval life in a day
+of wireless telegraph and air ships."</p>
+
+<p>She nodded. "But what are we going to do about it?" she questioned
+simply.</p>
+
+<p>"Cara, dear&mdash;if I could find a way!" he pleaded eagerly. "Suppose I
+could play the magician!"</p>
+
+<p>He rose and stood back of the log.</p>
+
+<p>She leaned back so that she might look into his eyes. "I wish you
+could," she mused with infinite weariness.</p>
+
+<p>He stooped suddenly and kissed the drooping lips with a resentful sense
+of the monstrous injustice of a scheme of things wherein such lips could
+droop.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, no!" she cried. "You must not! I've got to be Queen of
+Galavia&mdash;I've got to be his wife." Then, in a quick, half-frightened
+tone: "Yet when you are with me I can't help it. It's wicked to love
+you&mdash;and I do."</p>
+
+<p>He smiled through the misery of his own frown. "Am I so bad as that?" he
+questioned.</p>
+
+<p>"You are so bad"&mdash;she suddenly caught his hands<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> in hers and slowly
+shook her head&mdash;"that I don't trust myself on the same side of the road
+with you. You must go across and sit on that opposite side." She lightly
+kissed his forehead. "That's a kiss before exile&mdash;now go."</p>
+
+<p>He measured the distance with disapproving eyes. "That must be fifteen
+feet away," he protested, "and my arms are not a yard long." He
+stretched them out, viewing them ruefully.</p>
+
+<p>"Go!" she repeated with sternness.</p>
+
+<p>He obeyed slowly, his face growing sullen.</p>
+
+<p>"If I am to stay here until I recant what I said about your odious
+kingdom and your miserable throne, I'll&mdash;I'll&mdash;" He cast about for a
+sufficiently rebellious sentiment, then resolutely asserted: "I'll stay
+here until I rot in my chains." He raised his hands and shook imaginary
+manacles. "Clink! Clink! Clink!" he added dramatically.</p>
+
+<p>"You are being punished for being too fascinating to a poor little fool
+princess who has played truant and who doesn't want to go back to
+school." She talked on with forced levity. "As for the kingdom,"&mdash;once
+more her eyes became wistful&mdash;"you may say what you like about it. You
+can't possibly hate it as much as I. There is no anarchist screaming his
+adherence to the red flag or inventing infernal machines, who hates all
+thrones as much as the one small girl<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> who must needs be Queen of
+Galavia. No, <i>l&egrave;se-majest&eacute;</i> is not the fault for which you are being
+punished."</p>
+
+<p>For a while he was silent, then his voice was raised in exile, almost
+cheerfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Destiny is stronger than the paretic councils of little inbred kings.
+Why, Cara, I can get one good, husky Methodist preacher who can do in
+five minutes what I hardly think your royalties can undo&mdash;ever."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't!" she stopped him with plaintive appeal. "I know all that. I
+know it. Don't you realize that the longer the flight into the open blue
+of the skies, the harder the return to a gilt cage? But, dearest&mdash;there
+is such a thing as keeping one's parole. I must go back, unless I am
+held by a force stronger than I. I must go back. I have been here almost
+too long."</p>
+
+<p>"Cara," he said slowly, "I, too, have a sense of duty. It is to you. The
+open blue of the skies is yours by right&mdash;divine right. You have nothing
+to do with cages, gilt or otherwise. My duty is to free you. I mean to
+do it. I haven't finished thinking it out yet, but I am going to find
+the way."</p>
+
+<p>Her answering voice was deeply grave.</p>
+
+<p>"If you just devise a situation where I shall have to fight it all out
+again, you will only make it harder for me. I must do what I must do. I
+could only be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> rescued by some power stronger than myself. Come, let's
+go back."</p>
+
+<p>At dinner that same evening Mrs. Van announced to her guests that "by
+request of one who should be nameless," punctuating her pledge of
+secrecy with a pronounced glance at Benton, there would be a masquerade
+affair on the evening before Cara's departure for New York. She said
+this was to be an informal sort of frolic in fancy dress, and the only
+requirement would be that every grown-up should for an evening return to
+childhood.</p>
+
+<p>On the next morning ensued a hegira from the place, the object whereof
+was guarded with the most diplomatic deception and secrecy.</p>
+
+<p>"Why this unanimous desertion?" demanded Van indignantly from the head
+of the table when it began to develop that an exodus impended. "Do your
+appetites crave the stimulus of city cooking? Are you leaving my simple
+roof for the lobster palaces?"</p>
+
+<p>Benton shook his head. "Singular," he commented, studying his
+grape-fruit with the air of an oracle gazing into crystal. "There, for
+example, is Colonel Centress who will probably tell you that he has had
+an imperative summons to confer with his brokers and&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He paused, while the ancient beau across the table quickly nodded
+affirmation.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite so. How did you guess it?" he inquired.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Never talk business at table, of course, but this is a mysterious
+flurry in stocks&mdash;quite a mysterious flurry."</p>
+
+<p>"Quite so," echoed Benton. "Nevertheless, if you were to shadow the
+gallant Colonel in Manhattan to-day he would probably lead you to a
+costuming tailor, where you would discover him in the act of being
+fitted with a Roman toga or a crusader's mail."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Porter-Woodleigh shot a malicious glance at the tall foreigner
+whose emotionless face proved a constant irritation to her exuberant
+vivacity. "I understand, Colonel Von Ritz," she innocently suggested,
+"that you are to impersonate a polar bear."</p>
+
+<p>The Galavian smiled deep in his eyes only; his lips remained sober. One
+would have said that he had not recognized the thrust. "I shall only
+remain myself," he replied. "I am allowed to be a looker-on in Venice."</p>
+
+<p>Under her breath the widow confided to her next neighbor: "Ah! then it
+is true."</p>
+
+<p>"What are <i>you</i> going to town for?" demanded Mrs. Van, looking
+accusingly at Benton, as that gentleman arose from the table.</p>
+
+<p>"I should say," he laughingly responded, "that I am going to complete
+final arrangements for getting the Isis into commission, but nobody
+would believe me. You are all becoming so diplomatic of late!"</p>
+
+<p>Von Ritz glanced up casually. "There is one very dangerous
+diplomacy&mdash;one very difficult to become ac<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>customed to," he commented.
+"I allude to the American diplomacy of frankness."</p>
+
+<p>"The <i>Isis</i>? To think I have never seen your yacht!" mused Cara. "And
+yet you are allowing me to cross on a steamer."</p>
+
+<p>"If she could be put in shape so soon," declared Benton regretfully,
+glancing from Von Ritz to Pagratide, "I should shanghai Mrs. Van for a
+chaperon and give a party to Europe. Unfortunately I can't get her in
+readiness promptly enough; unless," he added hopefully, "Miss Carstow
+can postpone her sailing-day?"</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+
+<h3>IN WHICH ROMEO BECOMES DROMIO</h3>
+
+<p>When Benton had straightened out his car for the run to the city, and
+the road had begun to slip away under the tires, he turned to McGuire,
+his chauffeur.</p>
+
+<p>"McGuire," he inquired, "where is the runabout?"</p>
+
+<p>"At 'Idle Times,' sir. You loaned it to Mr. Bristow to fill up the
+garage."</p>
+
+<p>"I remember. Now, listen!" And as Benton talked a slow grin of
+contentment spread across the visage of Mr. McGuire, hinting of some
+enterprise that appealed to his venturesome soul with a lure beyond the
+ordinary.</p>
+
+<p>In the city, Benton was a busy man, though his visit to the costumer's
+was brief. Coming out of the place, he fancied he caught a glimpse of
+Von Ritz, but the view was fleeting and he decided that his eyes must
+have deceived him. He had himself patronized a rather obscure shop,
+recommended by Mr. McGuire. Von Ritz would presumably have selected some
+more fashionable purveyor of disguises even had his assertion that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> he
+would not masquerade been made only to deceive. Perhaps, thought the
+American, Colonel Von Ritz was becoming an obsession with him, merely
+because he stood for Galavia and the threat of royalty's mandate. He was
+convinced of this later in the day, when he once more fancied that a
+disappearing pair of broad shoulders belonged to the European. This time
+he laughed at the idea. The surroundings made the supposition ludicrous.
+It was among the tawdry shops of ship chandlers in the East Side, where
+he himself had gone in search of certain able seamen in the company of
+the sailing-master of the <i>Isis</i>. Von Ritz would hardly be consorting
+with the fo'castle men who frequent the water front below Brooklyn
+Bridge.</p>
+
+<p>The few days of the last week raced by, with all the charm of sky and
+field that the magic of Indian summer can lavish, and for Benton and
+Cara, they raced also with the sense of fast-slipping hope and
+relentlessly marching doom. Outwardly Cara set a pace for vivacious and
+care-free enjoyment that left Mrs. Porter-Woodleigh, the
+"semi-professional light-hearted lady," as O'Barreton named her, "to
+trail along in the ruck." Alone with Benton, there was always the furrow
+between the brows and the distressed gaze upon the mystery beyond the
+sky-line, but Pagratide and Von Ritz were vigilant, to the end that
+their t&ecirc;te-&agrave;-t&ecirc;tes were few.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Neither Benton nor Cara had alluded to the man's overbold assertion that
+he would find a way. It was a futile thing said in eagerness. The day of
+the dance, the last day they could hope for together, came unprefaced by
+development. To-morrow she must take up her journey and her duty: her
+holiday would be at its end. It was all the greater reason why this
+evening should be memorable. He should think of her afterward as he saw
+her to-night, and it pleased her that in the irresponsibility of the
+maskers she should appear to him in the garb of vagabond liberty, since
+in fact freedom was impossible to her.</p>
+
+<p>As the kaleidoscope of the first dance sifted and shifted its pattern of
+color, three men stood by the door, scanning the disguised figures with
+watchful eyes.</p>
+
+<p>One of the three was fantastically arrayed as a cannibal chief, in brown
+fleshings, with cuffs upon his ankles, gaudy decorations about his neck,
+and huge rings in nose and ears.</p>
+
+<p>The second man was a Bedouin: a camel-driver of the Libyan Desert. From
+the black horsehair circlet on his temples a turban-scarf fell to his
+shoulders. He was wrapped in a brown cashmere cloak which dropped
+domino-like to his ankles. Shaggy brows ran in an unbroken line from
+temple to temple, masking his eyes, while a fierce mustache and beard
+obliterated the contour of his lower face. His cheek-bones and fore<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>head
+showed, under some dye, as dark as leather, and as his gaze searchingly
+raked the crowds, he fingered a string of Moslem prayer-beads.</p>
+
+<p>The third man was conspicuous in ordinary dress. Save for the decoration
+of the Order of Takavo, suspended by a crimson ribbon on his
+shirt-front, and the Star of Galavia, on the left lapel of his coat,
+there was no break in the black and white scheme of his evening clothes.
+Von Ritz had told the truth. He was not disguised. He stood, his arms
+folded on his breast, towering above the Fiji Islander, possibly a
+quarter of an inch taller than the Bedouin. A half-amused smile lurked
+in his steady eyes&mdash;the smile of unwavering brows and dispassionately
+steady mouth-line.</p>
+
+<p>The cannibal chief waved his hand. "Bright the lamps shone o'er fair
+women and brave men!" he declaimed, in a disguised voice; then scowled
+about him villainously, remembering that an affable quoting of Lord
+Byron is incompatible with the qualities of a man-eating savage.</p>
+
+<p>The Bedouin gravely inclined his head. "<i>Allahu Akbar!</i>" he responded,
+in a soft voice.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the caravan driver commenced a hurried and zigzag course across
+the crowded floor. The eyes of Colonel Von Ritz indolently followed.</p>
+
+<p>Through a low-silled window a girl had just entered, carrying herself
+with the untrammeled freedom of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> some wild thing, erect, poised from the
+waist, rhythmic in motion. Her walk was like the scansion of good verse.
+The Bedouin caught the grace before the ensemble of costume met his eye.
+It was in harmony.</p>
+
+<p>She wore a silk skirt to the ankles, and about her waist and hips was
+bound the yellow and red sash of the Spanish gipsy, tightly knotted, and
+falling at its tasseled ends. Her arms were bare to the elbows, and gay
+with bracelets; her hair fell from her forehead and temples, dropping
+over her shoulders in two ribbon bound braids. A tall, gray-cowled monk,
+whose military bearing gave the lie to his cassock, a Spanish grandee,
+and a fool in motley saw her at the same moment and hurried to intercept
+her, but with a slide which carried him a quarter of the way across the
+floor the Bedouin arrived first, and before the others had come up he
+was drifting away with her in the tide of the dancers.</p>
+
+<p>"Allah is good to me&mdash;Flamencine," whispered the camel-driver as he drew
+her close to avoid a careless dancer.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Flamencine?" demanded a carefully altered voice, from which,
+however, the music had not been eliminated.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you remember?" The Arab stole a covert, identifying glance down
+at the tip of one ear which showed under its masking of brown hair&mdash;an
+ear that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> looked as though it were chiseled from the pink coral of
+Capri. He quoted:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<div>"'There was a gipsy maiden within the forest green,</div>
+<div>There was a gipsy maiden who shook a tambourine.</div>
+<div>The stars of night had not the face,</div>
+<div>The woodland wind had not the grace,</div>
+<div class="i2">Of Flamencine.'"</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Then the music stopped, and with its silencing came the monk, the clown,
+the grandee, and others.</p>
+
+<p>In the insistent demand of the many the Arab had too few dances with the
+Spanish girl. There were Comanches, Samurai, policemen, Zulus and
+courtiers, who, seeing her dance, discovered that their immediate
+avocation was dancing with her.</p>
+
+<p>Yet it wanted an hour of unmasking time when a Bedouin led a gipsy
+maiden from Andalusia into the deserted library, where the darkness was
+broken only by blazing logs on an open hearth.</p>
+
+<p>When they were alone he turned to her anxiously. His voice was freighted
+with appeal. Her face, now unmasked, wore an expression of stunned
+misery.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear," he asked, "how are you?"</p>
+
+<p>She gazed at the flickering logs. "I should think you would know," she
+answered wearily. Then, with a mirthless laugh, she spread both hands
+toward the blaze. "I'm looking ahead&mdash;I can see it all there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> in the
+fire." Her fingers convulsively clenched themselves until blue marks
+showed against the pink palms.</p>
+
+<p>He pushed a chair forward for her, but with a shake of her head she
+declined it.</p>
+
+<p>"Whoever heard of a gipsy girl sitting in a leather chair?" she
+demanded. "It's more like&mdash;like some effete princess."</p>
+
+<p>She dropped to the Persian rug and, gathering her knees between her
+clasped hands, sat looking into the dying blaze. "For a few brief
+minutes I am the gipsy girl," she added.</p>
+
+<p>"And," he said, dropping cross-legged to the rug at her side, "when the
+caravan halts at evening, and prayers have been said facing Mecca, and
+the grunting camels kneel, to be unloaded, neither do we, the gipsies of
+the desert, sit in chairs." He swayed slightly toward her, lowering his
+voice to a whisper. As the soft touch of her shoulder brushed him and
+electrified him, his cashmere-draped arms closed around her and held her
+hungrily to him. The vagrant maiden of Andalusia and the caravan-driver
+of Africa sat gazing together at the glowing pictures in the logs as
+they turned slowly to ashes.</p>
+
+<p>"Cara," he went on in a voice of pent-up earnestness, "we be nomads&mdash;we
+two. 'The scarlet of the maples can shake us like the cry of bugles
+going by.' Come away with me while there is time. Let us follow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> out our
+destinies where gipsy blood calls us; in the desert, the jungle,
+wherever you say. Let your fancy be our guide&mdash;your heart our compass.
+Suppose"&mdash;he paused and, with one outstretched arm, pointed to the
+fire&mdash;"suppose that to be a camp-fire&mdash;what do you see in the coals?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have already told you," she said wearily. "I see a throne, a life
+with all the confining littleness of a prison, with none of the breadth
+of an empire. I see the sacrifice of all I love. I see year upon year of
+purple desolation.... Purple is the color of mourning and royalty."</p>
+
+<p>She fell silent, and he spoke slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"I see the desert, many-hued, like an opal with the setting of the sun.
+I see the flickering of camp-fires and the palm-fringe of an oasis. I
+see the tapering minarets of a mosque, and the long booths of the
+bazaars. I smell the scent of the perfume-seller's stall, the heavy
+sweetness of attar of roses.... I hear the tinkle of camel bells....
+There comes a change.... I see a mountain-pass and a mule-train crawling
+through the dust, I see the paths that go around the world. Which of our
+pictures do you prefer?"</p>
+
+<p>She gave a pained, low cry, and buried her face passionately on his
+shoulder. "Oh, you know, you know!" she cried, in a piteous voice. "And
+you love me, yet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> you tempt me to break my parole. If I could do it and
+be freed of the responsibility! If a miracle could work itself!"</p>
+
+<p>"Cara," he whispered, resolutely steadying himself, "don't forget the
+gospel according to Jonesy. You can't dam up the tributaries of the
+heart. Some day you must come to me. That much is immutably written. For
+God's sake come now while the road is still clear. Otherwise we shall
+grope our ways to each other, even if it be through tragedy&mdash;through
+hell itself."</p>
+
+<p>For a moment she gazed at him with wide eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I know it&mdash;" she whispered in a frightened voice. "I know it&mdash;and yet I
+must go ahead."</p>
+
+<p>He rose and lifted her; then as she stood clinging to him he said: "I
+ask your forgiveness if I've made it harder&mdash;and one boon. Slip away
+with me and give me an hour with you."</p>
+
+<p>"They will find me. Pagratide and Von Ritz will find me," she objected
+helplessly. "They won't let us be alone for long."</p>
+
+<p>"Listen," he replied. "It is not too cold and the moon is brilliant. It
+is the last real moon for me. Come with me in my car for a while."</p>
+
+<p>"You must not make love to me," she stipulated. "I am going to try to
+get my face properly composed&mdash;and if you make love to me, I can't.
+Besides, when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> you make love I'm rather afraid of you. So you mustn't."</p>
+
+<p>Then, with a wild spasmodic gesture, she caught the edges of his
+cashmere cloak and gripped them tightly in both hands as she looked up
+into his eyes and impetuously contradicted herself.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, please do," she appealed.</p>
+
+<p>He laughed. "Destiny says I must make love to you," he asserted, "and
+who am I to disobey Destiny?"</p>
+
+<p>Outside, she insisted upon waiting by the bridge while he went for his
+car. So he turned and started alone to the point on the driveway just
+around the angle of the house, where McGuire, pursuant to previous
+orders, was to be waiting with the machine. It had been only an hour
+since Benton had slipped away from the dancers and consulted with
+McGuire in the shadow of the wall, instructing him explicitly in his
+duties. McGuire was to wait with the machine ready upon call. The lamps
+were not to be lighted. When Benton came, the chauffeur was to run the
+car to the point where a lady should enter it. He was at that point to
+leave, without words. It had been impressed on McGuire that utter
+silence was imperative. The chauffeur was then to follow in the
+runabout, acting as a reserve in the event of need. Both cars were to
+take a certain circuitous route to a point on the shore thirty miles
+distant,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> the runabout keeping just close enough to hold the first car
+in sight. McGuire had listened and understood. Yet now McGuire was
+missing, together with one very necessary motor-car.</p>
+
+<p>As Benton stood, boiling with wrath at the miscarriage of his plans, he
+fancied he heard the soft muffled song of his motor just beyond the turn
+where the road circled the house. He bent and held a lighted match close
+to the gravel. On a muddied spot he found the easily recognizable tread
+of his tires. The car had been there. For the sake of speed he ran to
+the garage near by and took a swift look at the runabout. It was
+waiting, and, thanks to the God of Machines, would start on compression.
+He flung himself to the driver's seat and gave it the spark. Far
+away&mdash;about as far as the bridge, he calculated&mdash;he heard one short,
+cautious blast of an automobile horn.</p>
+
+<p>Just before the last turn brought him to the bridge, where he should
+meet Cara, he noticed a man hurrying toward him, on foot, and recognized
+McGuire. Totally mystified, he slowed down the machine.</p>
+
+<p>"Get in, you infernal blockhead," he called. "Tell me about it as we go.
+I'm in a hurry."</p>
+
+<p>But McGuire performed strangely. He clapped one hand to his forehead and
+looked at his employer out of large, wild eyes. "Am I dippy? My God! Am
+I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> dippy?" he exclaimed, repeating the question over and over in a low,
+trembling voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Apparently you are. Get in, damn you!" Benton ordered.</p>
+
+<p>"It's weird," declared McGuire. "It's damned weird."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, sir," he ran on, talking fast, now that the first shock was over
+and his tongue again loosened. "Either I've made a fool mistake, or else
+I'm crazier than hell. I waited at the place you said. You&mdash;or your
+ghost&mdash;came and took his seat, and waved his hand. I started the car for
+the bridge. He didn't say a word. At the bridge I jumped out. He was
+you&mdash;and yet you are here&mdash;same size&mdash;same costume&mdash;same beard&mdash;even the
+same beads around the neck."</p>
+
+<p>They had almost reached the bridge and were slowing down when Benton,
+scanning the road, empty in the moonlight, grasped for the first time a
+definite suspicion of what had happened.</p>
+
+<p>"Cara!" he shouted. "Good God, where is she?"</p>
+
+<p>The chauffeur leaned over and shouted into his ear. "I'm telling you,
+sir. The lady's in that other car&mdash;with that other edition of you. And,
+sir&mdash;beggin' your pardon&mdash;they're beatin' it like hell!"</p>
+
+<p>Benton's only answer was to feed gas to the spark<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> so frantically that
+the car seemed to rise from the ground and shiver before it settled
+again. Then it shot forward and reeled crazily into a speed never
+intended for a curving road at night.</p>
+
+<p>The moonlight fell on a gray streak of a car, driven by a maniac with a
+scarf blowing back from a turban over two wildly gleaming eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Back at "Idle Times" a Capuchin monk, wandering apart from the dancers
+in consonance with the austere proclaiming of his garb, was studying the
+frivolous gamboling of a school of fountain gold-fish in the
+conservatory. He looked up, scowling, to take a note from a servant.</p>
+
+<p>"Colonel Von Ritz said to hand this to the gentleman masquerading as a
+monk," explained the man.</p>
+
+<p>"Von Ritz," growled the monk. "He annoys me."</p>
+
+<p>He impatiently tore open the letter and scanned it. His brows contracted
+in astonished mystification, then slowly his eyes narrowed and kindled.</p>
+
+<p>The scrawl ran:</p>
+
+<p>"Your Highness: If you see neither Mr. Benton, masquerading as an Arab,
+her Highness, the Princess, nor myself in ten minutes from the time of
+receiving this, take the car which you will find ready in the garage. My
+orderly will be there to act as your chauffeur. Follow the main road to
+the second village. Turn there to the right, and drive to the small
+bay,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> where you will find me or an explanation. I have been conducting
+certain investigations. The affair is urgent and touches matters of
+great import to Europe as well us to Your Highness."</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+
+<h3>IN WHICH DROMIO BECOMES ROMEO</h3>
+
+<p>When Cara, waiting at the bridge, had seen the car flash up, a bearded
+Bedouin at the wheel, she had leaped lightly to the seat beside him,
+without waiting for the machine to come to a full stop; then she had
+thrown herself back luxuriously on the cushions with a sigh of
+satisfaction, and had only said: "Drive me fast."</p>
+
+<p>For a long time she lay back, drinking, in long draughts, the spiced
+night air, frosted only enough to give it flavor. There was no necessity
+for speech, and above, the stars glittered lavishly, despite the white
+light of the moon.</p>
+
+<p>At last she murmured half-aloud and almost contentedly: "'Who knows but
+the world may end to-night?'"</p>
+
+<p>Above the throbbing purr of the engine which had already done ten miles,
+the man beside her caught the voice, but missed the words. He bent
+forward.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon?" he politely inquired.</p>
+
+<p>At the question she started violently, and both hands<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> came to her heart
+with a spasmodic movement. Von Ritz carried the car around an ugly rut.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be alarmed, Your Highness," he said, in a cold, evenly modulated
+voice which, though pitched low, carried clearly above the noise of the
+cylinders. "I may call you 'Your Highness' now, may I not? We are quite
+alone. Or do you still prefer that I respect your incognita?"</p>
+
+<p>The girl's eyes blazed upon him until he could feel their intense
+focusing, though he kept his own fixed unbendingly on the road ahead.
+Finally she mastered her anger enough to speak.</p>
+
+<p>"Colonel Von Ritz," she commanded, "you will take me back at once!" She
+drew herself as far away from him as the space on the seat permitted.</p>
+
+<p>"Your Highness's commands are supreme." The man spoke in the same even
+voice. "I intend taking Your Highness back&mdash;when it is safer for Your
+Highness to go back."</p>
+
+<p>He turned the car suddenly to the right and sped along the narrower road
+that led away from the main thoroughfare.</p>
+
+<p>"You will take me back, now. I had not supposed that to a gentleman&mdash;"
+Her voice choked into silence and her eyes filled with angry tears.</p>
+
+<p>"Your Highness misunderstands," he said coldly. "I obey the throne. If I
+live long enough to serve<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> it in another reign, Your Highness will be
+Your Majesty. Yet even then will your commands be no more supreme to
+me&mdash;no more sacred&mdash;than now. But even then, Your Highness&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Call me Miss Carstow," she interrupted in impassioned anger. "I will
+have my freedom for to-night at least."</p>
+
+<p>"Yet even then, Miss Carstow," he calmly resumed, "when danger threatens
+you or your throne, I shall take such means as I can to avert that
+danger, as I am doing now. Even though"&mdash;for a moment the cold, metallic
+evenness left his voice and a human note stole into his words&mdash;"even
+though the reward be contempt."</p>
+
+<p>She did not answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Your High&mdash;Miss Carstow,"&mdash;Von Ritz spoke with a deferential
+finality&mdash;"believe me, some things are inevitable."</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the car stopped.</p>
+
+<p>The girl made a movement as though she would rise, but the man's arm
+quietly stretched itself across before her, not touching her, but
+forming an effective barrier.</p>
+
+<p>She did not speak, but her eyes blazed indignantly. For the first time
+he was able to return her gaze directly, and as she looked into the
+unflinching gray pupils, under the level brows, there was a momentary
+combat, then her own dropped. He sat for a space with his arm
+outstretched, holding her prisoner in the seat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Your Highness"&mdash;he spoke as impersonally as a judge ruling from the
+bench&mdash;"I must remind you again that I am your escort to-night only in
+order that someone else may not be. What his plans were, I need not now
+say, but I know, and it became my duty to thwart him. It is hardly
+necessary to explain how I discovered Mr. Benton's purpose. It was not
+easy, but it has been accomplished. I have acquainted myself with his
+movements, his intention, and his preparations; I have even
+counterfeited his masquerade and stolen his car. There are bigger things
+at stake than individual wishes. I stand for the throne. Mr. Benton has
+played a daring game&mdash;and lost."</p>
+
+<p>He paused, and she found herself watching with a strange fascination the
+face almost marble-like in its steadiness.</p>
+
+<p>"Some day&mdash;perhaps soon," he went on, the arm unmoved, "you will be
+Queen of Galavia." She shuddered. "You can then strip away my epaulets
+if you choose. For the moment, however, I must regard you as a prisoner
+of war and ask your parole, as a gentleman and an officer, not to leave
+the car while I investigate the trouble with the motor. Otherwise&mdash;" he
+added composedly, "we shall have to remain as we are."</p>
+
+<p>She hesitated, her chin thrown up and her eyes blazing; then, with a
+glance at the unmoving arm, she bowed reluctant assent.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"All I promise is to remain in the car," she said. "May I go back into
+the tonneau?"</p>
+
+<p>Satisfying himself that the engine was temporarily dead, he responded,
+with a half-smile, "That promise I think is sufficient."</p>
+
+<p>He bent to his task of diagnosis. After much futile spinning of the
+crank, he rose and contemplated the stalled engine.</p>
+
+<p>"Since this machine went out with lamps unlighted, and I have no matches
+in this garb, I must go to that farmhouse up the hillside&mdash;where the
+light shines through the trees&mdash;. Will Your Highness regard your parole
+as effective until my return, not to leave the car? Yes? I thank Your
+Highness; I shall not be long."</p>
+
+<p>The girl for answer honked the horn in several loud blasts, and he
+stopped with a murmured apology to silence it by tearing off the bulb
+and throwing it to one side.</p>
+
+<p>The Colonel turned and took his way through the woods, statuesquely
+upright and spectral in his long Arab cloak.</p>
+
+<p>Benton and McGuire had just passed the crossing where Von Ritz had left
+the main road, when McGuire's quick ear caught the familiar tooting of
+the other horn and brought his hand to his employer's arm. The car was
+stopped, and McGuire, by match-light, examined<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> the road with its frosty
+mud unmarked by fresh automobile tracks, save those running back from
+their own tires.</p>
+
+<p>The runabout turned and slipped along cautiously to the rear, watchful
+for byways. At the cross-road McGuire was out again. His match, held
+close to the mud and gravel, revealed the tread of familiar tires.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, sir," he briefly reported. "The other edition went this
+track."</p>
+
+<p>With a twist of the wheel Benton was again on the trail. Back in the
+side lane stood a car in which a girl sat alone, solemnly indignant.</p>
+
+<p>"Cara!" Benton was standing on the step. His voice was tremulous with
+solicitude and perplexed anxiety. "Cara!" he repeated. "What does it
+mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," she responded coolly. "Something seems to be broken."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't mean that." McGuire was already investigating. "What does it
+mean?"</p>
+
+<p>She sighed wearily.</p>
+
+<p>"When I foolishly agreed to play Juliet to your Romeo," she informed
+him, and her tones were frigid, "I didn't know that your Romeo was
+really only a Dromio. The other edition of you"&mdash;he flinched at the
+words, and McGuire choked violently&mdash;"is back there, I believe, hunting
+for matches."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"She's all right, sir," interrupted McGuire in triumph. "She'll travel
+now. It's only disconnected spark plugs and a short circuiting."</p>
+
+<p>"Travel, then!" snapped Benton. "Leave the runabout here. The other
+gentleman may prefer not to walk home."</p>
+
+<p>As he swung himself into the tonneau, the chauffeur had already seized
+the wheel and the car was backing for the turn. Far back up the hillside
+there was a crashing of underbrush. A spectral figure, struggling with
+the unaccustomed drapery of a Bedouin robe, emerged from the woods into
+the open, and halted in momentary astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>"I believe I am under parole&mdash;to the other Dromio&mdash;not to run away," she
+suggested wearily.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that's all right; I'm doing this and I have no treaty with
+Galavia," replied the gentleman pleasantly. "Hit her up a bit, McGuire."</p>
+
+<p>He took one of the hands that lay wearily in Cara's lap and she did not
+withdraw it. She only lay back in the leather upholstery and said
+nothing. Finally he bent nearer.</p>
+
+<p>"Dearest," he said. There was no answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Dearest," he whispered again.</p>
+
+<p>She only turned her head and smiled forgiveness.</p>
+
+<p>"What is the matter?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'm so tired&mdash;so tired of all of it," she sighed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> "Don't you see?
+I wish someone bigger than I am would take me away to a place where they
+had never heard of a throne&mdash;somewhere beyond the Milky Way."</p>
+
+<p>He took her in his arms, and the spangle-crowned gipsy head fell heavily
+on his shoulder. She stretched up both arms towards the stars, and the
+moonlight glinted from her gilt bracelets.</p>
+
+<p>"Somewhere beyond the Milky Way," she murmured, then collapsed like a
+tired child and lay still.</p>
+
+<p>"Dearest," he whispered, "I'll tell you a secret." He paused and
+listened to the rhythmic cylinders throbbing a racing pulse; he looked
+back at the white band of road that was being flung out behind them like
+thread from a falling spool. He held her fiercely to him and kissed her.
+"I'll tell you a secret. You are being stolen. The <i>Isis</i> is waiting in
+a little cove, and there is steam in her engines, and a chaplain on
+board. If it's necessary I shall run up the skull and cross-bones at her
+masthead. Do you hear?" Then, with a less piratical voice: "Dearest, I
+love you."</p>
+
+<p>She looked up drowsily into his eyes. "You don't have to be such a
+boa-constrictor," she suggested. "You are not a cave-man, after all, you
+know, if you <i>are</i> taking a lady without asking her." Then she
+contentedly whispered: "I'm going to sleep." And she did.</p>
+
+<p>As the car at last swept around a curve and took the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> shore road, Benton
+caught, far away as yet, the red and green glint of tiny port and
+starboard lights on the bridge of the <i>Isis</i>, and the long ruby and
+emerald shafts quivering beneath in the calm waters of the bay. In the
+light of a low moon, swinging down the midnight sky, the trim silhouette
+of the yacht stood out boldly.</p>
+
+<p>Cara, after sleeping through the rowboat stage of the journey, awoke on
+the deck of the <i>Isis</i> and gazed wonderingly about. In her ears was the
+sound of anchor chains upon the capstan.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it a dream?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a dream to me, but I am going to make it real," he responded.</p>
+
+<p>She went to the rail. He followed her.</p>
+
+<p>"I shouldn't have let you, but I was so tired," she said, "I hardly knew
+where the dream began and the reality ended. Ah, I wish the dream could
+come true."</p>
+
+<p>"This one is to come true, Cara," he whispered.</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head. "Stand still!" she commanded.</p>
+
+<p>He was bending forward with his elbows on the rail. Suddenly, with
+something like a stifled sob, she caught his head in both arms and held
+him close, so close that he heard her heart pounding and her breath
+coming with spasmodic gasps. He put out his arms, but she held him off.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No, no; don't touch me now&mdash;only listen!"</p>
+
+<p>He waited a moment before she spoke again.</p>
+
+<p>"You said I was your prisoner." Her voice dropped in a tremor as though
+the tears would prevail, but she steadied it and went on. "I wish I
+were. Always I am your prisoner, but I must go back. It is because it is
+written."</p>
+
+<p>He straightened up and took her in his arms. "I know how you have
+settled it," he said, "but I have stolen you. The anchor is coming up.
+You love me&mdash;I have claimed what is mine. It is now beyond your power,
+your responsibility."</p>
+
+<p>"No, it is not," she softly denied. "I will not marry you&mdash;but I love
+you&mdash;I love you!"</p>
+
+<p>"You mean that if I hold you my prisoner you will still not be my wife?"
+he incredulously demanded.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly she nodded her head.</p>
+
+<p>The man gazed off with the eyes of one stunned and slowly fought himself
+back into control before he trusted his voice. After a while, he raised
+his face and spoke in fragmentary sentences, his voice pitched low, his
+words broken.</p>
+
+<p>"But you said&mdash;just now&mdash;back there on the road&mdash;you wished someone
+stronger than yourself&mdash;would take you away somewhere&mdash;beyond the Milky
+Way."</p>
+
+<p>His tones strengthened and suddenly he almost sang<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> out with recovered
+resolution, speaking buoyantly and triumphantly.</p>
+
+<p>"Dearest, I am stronger than you, and I'm going to take you away&mdash;I'm
+going to take you beyond the Milky Way, to the uttermost stars of Love.
+How can it matter to me how far, if you are there?"</p>
+
+<p>Again she shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"No, dear," she whispered, "you are not so strong as I, in this, because
+I am strong enough to say No when my heart says only Yes&mdash;and because
+Fate is stronger than any of us."</p>
+
+<p>"Boat ahoy!" came a voice from the crow's nest.</p>
+
+<p>"They have come for you," he said, speaking as through a fog. "Show them
+here," he shouted to an officer who was hurrying to the gangway.</p>
+
+<p>Two figures came over the side, and slowly followed the first officer
+forward. One was a Capuchin monk, bearing himself rigidly; at his side
+strode a Bedouin, bedraggled, but erect and military of bearing. The
+original Arab turned with a sudden sag of the shoulders and looked
+helplessly out at the path of silver that stretched across the water
+below, to the moon, now sunk close to the horizon. He waved one hand in
+a gesture of submission and despair, and stood silent.</p>
+
+<p>The gipsy girl, standing near, took a sudden step forward and stood
+close to him us the others approached.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"They may take me back if they wish to, now," she said, with a suddenly
+upflaring defiance. "But they shall find me like this!" And she flung
+her arms about his neck and kissed him.</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE PRINCESS CONSULTS JONESY</h3>
+
+<p>The coldness of the moonlight killed the pallor of Karyl's face, but
+added a note of stark accentuation to his set chin and labored
+self-containment. Von Ritz, despite his bedraggled masquerade was as
+composed and expressionless as though he had seen nothing beyond the
+expected. With Von Ritz nothing was beyond the expected.</p>
+
+<p>He had to-night counterfeited Benton's disguise; stolen Benton's car;
+substituted himself for the American and made a decisive effort to
+interrupt the kidnaping of a Queen.</p>
+
+<p>Finding himself checkmated, he had joined forces with the Prince and
+brought the pursuit to a successful termination. His manner now was
+precisely what it had been last night, when his only excitement had been
+a game of billiards. Men who knew him would have told you that his
+manner had been the same on a certain red and smoky day when the order
+of Takavo had been pinned on his breast, in the reek and noise of a
+battlefield.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>After a moment of tense silence, Benton took a step forward.</p>
+
+<p>"At any suitable time," he said, in a voice too low for Cara to catch,
+"I shall, of course, be entirely at your service."</p>
+
+<p>Pagratide drew a labored breath, but when he raised his head it was to
+lift his brows inquiringly.</p>
+
+<p>"For what?" he asked in an equally low tone. "Have I asked any
+questions?" In a matter-of-fact voice he added: "It is growing late. If
+Miss Carstow has finished the inspection of your yacht, I suggest a
+return."</p>
+
+<p>Benton recognized the other's refusal to read his motive. After all that
+was the best course; the only course. Pagratide stepped forward.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Benton had the pleasure of driving you down&mdash;" he suggested, "may I
+have the same honor, returning?"</p>
+
+<p>The girl met the eyes of the Prince, with defiance in her own.</p>
+
+<p>"I am not a child!" she vehemently declared. "We may as well be honest
+with each other. If he had chosen to have it so, you could not have come
+aboard. I must obey the decrees of State!" She paused, then impulsively
+swept on: "I can force myself to do what I must do, but I cannot compel
+my heart&mdash;that is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> his, utterly his." She raised both hands. "Now you
+know," she said. "You may decide."</p>
+
+<p>Karyl inclined his head.</p>
+
+<p>"I have questioned nothing," he repeated. "Will you honor me by
+returning in my car?"</p>
+
+<p>Cara tilted her chin rebelliously.</p>
+
+<p>"No," she said, "I don't think I shall. My vacation ends to-morrow if
+you still wish it, but to-night it has not ended. I return with Mr.
+Benton."</p>
+
+<p>Pagratide stiffened painfully, but with supreme self-mastery he forced a
+smile as though he had asked nothing more than a dance&mdash;and had found it
+engaged.</p>
+
+<p>"I must submit," he replied in a steady voice. "I even understand. But
+you will agree with me that they"&mdash;with a gesture toward the direction
+from which they had come&mdash;"had best know nothing."</p>
+
+<p>Benton and Von Ritz went to the gangway, where the yachtsman bent
+forward to give some direction to the boat crew below.</p>
+
+<p>"Karyl!" The girl moved impulsively toward the man she must marry, and
+laid a hand on his arm. "Karyl," she said plaintively, "if you only
+wanted to marry me for State reasons&mdash;it would be different. It wouldn't
+hurt me then to hurt you. You mean so much as a friend, but I can never
+be in love with you. You are being unfair with yourself&mdash;if you go on. I
+must be honest with you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Pagratide spoke slowly, and his voice carried the tremor of feeling.</p>
+
+<p>"You have always been honest with me, and I will make you love me. Until
+you marry me I have no privilege to question you. When you do, I shall
+not have to question you." He leaned forward and spoke confidently. "I
+would marry you if you hated me&mdash;and then I would win your love!"</p>
+
+<p>An hour later the Spanish gipsy girl, having shown herself in the
+emptying ball-room with ingenious excuses for her long absence, took
+refuge in her own apartments.</p>
+
+<p>On sailing day, Benton, at the pier, watched the steamer stand out into
+the river between the coming and going of ferry-boats and tugs. About
+him stamped the usual farewell throng with hats raised and handkerchiefs
+a-flutter. The music of the ship's band grew faint as a wider and wider
+gap of water opened between the wharf and the liner's gray hull.</p>
+
+<p>Gradually the crowd scattered back through the great barn-like spaces of
+the pier-house to be re-absorbed by cabs, motors and surface-cars into
+the main arteries of the city's life. It was over. <i>Bon voyage</i> had been
+said. One more ship had put out to sea.</p>
+
+<p>Benton stood looking after a slim figure in a blue traveling gown and
+dark furs, pressed against the after-rail, her handkerchief waving in
+the raw wind.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> Most of the sea-going ones had retreated into the shelter
+of the saloon or cabin, but she remained.</p>
+
+<p>Van Bristow, shivering at his friend's elbow, did not suggest turning
+back.</p>
+
+<p>Cara stood, still looking shoreward, a furrow between her brows, her
+checks pale, her fingers tightly gripping the rail. She was holding with
+that grip to all her shaken self-command.</p>
+
+<p>She saw the fang-edged skyline of lower Manhattan lifting its gray
+shafts through wet streamers of fog; she saw flotillas of squat
+ferry-boats shouldering their ways against the sullen heave of the
+river's tide-water; she heard the discordant shriek of their steam
+throats; she saw the tilting swoop of a hundred gulls, buffeting the
+wind; but she was conscious only of the vista of oily water widening
+between herself and him.</p>
+
+<p>Von Ritz had long since drifted into the smoking-room where the men were
+christening the voyage with brandy-and-soda and dropping into tentative
+groups, regardful of future poker games.</p>
+
+<p>Pagratide, at Cara's elbow, was silent, respecting her silence.</p>
+
+<p>When at last the two had the deck to themselves and Manhattan had become
+a shadowy and ragged monotone, she turned and smiled. It was a smile of
+accepting the inevitable. He went with her to the forward<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> deck where
+her staterooms were situated, and left her there in silence.</p>
+
+<p>Von Ritz, standing apart near the threshold of the smokeroom, heard his
+name paged almost before the speaker had entered the door, and turned to
+take from the hand of the bearer a Marconigram just relayed from shore.
+He read it and for an instant a look of pain crossed the features that
+rarely yielded to expression. Then he sought out Karyl's stateroom.</p>
+
+<p>Karyl turned wearily from the wintry picture of a sullenly heaving sea,
+to answer the rap on the door. His face did not brighten as he
+recognized Von Ritz.</p>
+
+<p>The Colonel was that type of being upon whom men may depend or whom they
+must fear. Whenever there was need, Karyl had come to know that there
+would be Von Ritz, but also there went with him an austerity and an
+impersonality that robbed him of the gratitude and love he might have
+claimed.</p>
+
+<p>Now there was a note almost surly in the expression with which the
+Prince looked up to greet his father's confidential representative.</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" he demanded.</p>
+
+<p>For answer the officer held out the message.</p>
+
+<p>Karyl puckered his brows over the intricacies of the code and handed it
+back.</p>
+
+<p>"Be good enough to construe it," he commanded.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The King," said Von Ritz, "is ill. His Majesty wishes to instruct you
+in certain matters before&mdash;" He broke off with something like a catch in
+his voice, then continued calmly. "Recovery is despaired of, though
+death may not be immediate."</p>
+
+<p>Karyl turned away, not wishing the soldier to see the tears he felt in
+his eyes, and Von Ritz discreetly withdrew as far as the door. There he
+paused, and after a moment's hesitation inquired:</p>
+
+<p>"Her Highness goes to Maritzburg&mdash;to her father's Court&mdash;I presume?"</p>
+
+<p>With his back still turned, the Prince nodded. "Why?" he demanded.</p>
+
+<p>"Because&mdash;the message holds no hope&mdash;" Von Ritz paused, then added
+quietly "&mdash;and if Your Highness is called upon to mount the throne, it
+is advisable to hasten the marriage."</p>
+
+<p>He backed out, closing the door behind him.</p>
+
+<p>In her own cabin the girl had bolted the door. At the small desk of her
+<i>suite-de-luxe</i> she sat with her head on her crossed arms. For a
+half-hour she remained motionless.</p>
+
+<p>Finally she rose and, with uncertain hands, opened a suitcase, drawing
+from its place among filmy fabrics and feminine essentials a small,
+squat figure of time-corroded clay. The little Inca <i>huaca</i> had perhaps
+looked with that same unseeing squint upon Princesses<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> of other
+dynasties so long dead that their heartbreaks and ecstasies were now the
+same&mdash;nothing.</p>
+
+<p>She placed the image before her and rested her chin on one hand, gazing
+at its grotesque and ancient visage.</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes slowly filled with tears. Again she dropped her face on her
+arms and the tears overflowed.</p>
+
+<hr class='smler' />
+
+<p>Benton and Bristow had been sitting without speech as their motor
+threaded its way through the traffic along Fourteenth Street, and it was
+not until the chauffeur had turned north on Fifth Avenue that either
+spoke. Then Benton roused himself out of seeming lethargy to inquire
+with suddenness: "Do you remember the bull-fight we saw in Seville?"</p>
+
+<p>His companion looked up, suppressing his surprise at a question so
+irrelevant.</p>
+
+<p>"You mean the Easter Sunday performance," he asked, "when that negligent
+<i>banderillero</i> was gored?"</p>
+
+<p>"Just so," assented Benton. "Do you remember the chap we met afterwards
+at one of the caf&eacute;s? He was being f&ecirc;ted and flattered for the brilliancy
+of his work in the ring. His name was Blanco."</p>
+
+<p>"Sure I remember him." Van talked glibly, pleased that the conversation
+had turned into channels so impersonal. "He was a fine-looking chap with
+the grace of a Velasquez dancing-girl and the nerve of a bull-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>terrier.
+I remember he was more like a grandee than a <i>toreador</i>. We had him dine
+with us&mdash;hard bread&mdash;black olives&mdash;fish&mdash;bad wine&mdash;all sorts of native
+truck. For the rest of our stay in Seville he was our inseparable
+companion. Do you remember how the street gamins pointed us out? Why, it
+was like walking down Broadway with your arm linked in that of Jim
+Jeffries!"</p>
+
+<p>He paused, somewhat disconcerted by his companion's steady gaze; then,
+taking a fresh start, he went on, talking fast.</p>
+
+<p>"Besides sticking bulls, he could discuss several topics in several
+languages. I recall that he had been educated for the Church. If he
+hadn't felt the lure of the strenuous life, he might have been
+celebrating Mass instead of playing guide for us. In the end he'd have
+won a cardinal's hat."</p>
+
+<p>The fixity of the other's stare at last chilled and quelled his chatter
+to an embarrassed silence. He realized that the object of his mild
+subterfuge was transparent.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm after his address&mdash;not his biography," suggested Benton coolly.
+"His name was Manuel Blanco, wasn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, yes, I believe it was. What do you want with him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind that," returned his friend. "Do you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> happen to know where he
+lived? I seem to recall that you promised to write him frequent
+letters."</p>
+
+<p>"By Jove, so I did," acknowledged Van with humility. "I must get busy.
+He is a good sort. His address&mdash;" He paused to search through his
+pocket-book for a small tablet dedicated to names and numbers, then
+added: "His address is <i>Numero 18, Calle Isaac Peral</i>, Cadiz."</p>
+
+<p>Benton was scribbling the direction on the back of an envelope.</p>
+
+<p>"You needn't grow penitent and start a belated correspondence," he
+suggested. "I am going to write him myself&mdash;and I'm going to visit
+him."</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+
+<h3>THE TOREADOR APPEARS</h3>
+
+<p>Slowly, with a gesture almost subconscious, Benton slipped an unopened
+envelope from his breast pocket; turned it over; looked at it and
+slipped it back, still unopened. Then, leaning heavily on his elbow, he
+gazed off, frowning, over the rail of the yacht's forward deck.</p>
+
+<p>The waters that lap the quays and wharves of Old Cadiz, green as jade
+and quiet as farm-yard pools, were darkening into inkiness toward shore.
+White walls that had been like ivory were turning into ashy gray behind
+the <i>Bateria San Carlos</i> and the pillars of the <i>Entrada</i>. The molten
+sun was sinking into a rich orange sky beyond the Moorish dome and
+Christian towers of the cathedral.</p>
+
+<p>Shafts of red and green wavered and quaked in the black dock waters.</p>
+
+<p>Between the hulks of cork- and salt-freighters, the steam yacht <i>Isis</i>
+slipped with as graceful a motion as that of the gulls. Then when the
+anchor chains ran gratingly out, Benton turned on his heel and went to
+his cabin.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Behind a bolted door he dropped into a chair and sat motionless. Finally
+the right hand wandered mechanically to his breast pocket and brought
+out the envelope. He read for the thousandth time the endorsement in the
+corner.</p>
+
+<p>"Not to be opened until the evening of March 5th," and under that, "I
+love you."</p>
+
+<p>There was another envelope; an outer one much rubbed from the pocket. It
+was directed in her hand and the blurred postmark bore a date in
+February. He could have described every mark upon the enclosing cover
+with the precision of a careful detective. When his impatient fingers
+had first torn off the end, only to be confronted by the order: "Not to
+be opened until the evening of March 5th," he had fallen back on
+studying outward marks and indications. In the first place, it had been
+posted from Puntal, and instead of the familiar violet stamp of
+Maritzburg, with which her other letters had been franked during the two
+months past, this stamp was pink, and its medallion bore the profile of
+Karyl.</p>
+
+<p>That she had left Maritzburg, and that she had written him a message to
+be sealed for a month, meant that the date of March 5th had
+significance. That she was in Galavia meant that the significance
+was&mdash;he winced.</p>
+
+<p>On the calendar of a bronze desk-set, the first four<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> days of March were
+already cancelled. Now, taking up a blue pencil, he crossed off the
+number five. After that he looked at his watch. It wanted one minute of
+six. He held the timepiece before him while the second-hand ticked its
+way once around its circle, then with feverish impatience he tore the
+end from the envelope.</p>
+
+<p>Benton's face paled a little as he drew out the many pages covered with
+a woman's handwriting, but there was no one to see that or to notice the
+tremor of his fingers.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment he held the pages off, seeing only the "Dearest" at the
+top, and the wild way the pen had raced, forming almost shapeless
+characters.</p>
+
+<p>"Dearest," she said in part, "I write now because I must turn to
+someone&mdash;because my heart must speak or break. All day I must smile as
+befits royalty, and act as befits one whose part is written for her.
+Unless there be an outlet, there must be madness. I have enclosed this
+envelope in another and enjoined you not to read it until March 5th.
+Then it will be too late for you to come to me. If you came to-night,
+you would find me hurrying out to meet you and to surrender. Duty would
+so gladly lay down its arms to Love, dear, and desert the fight.</p>
+
+<p>"To-night I have slipped away from the uniforms, the tawdry mockery of a
+puppet court, to find the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> pitiful comfort of rehearsing my heart-ache
+to you, who own my heart. In my life here every hour is mapped, and I
+seem to move from cell to cell. So many obsequious jailers who call
+themselves courtiers stand about and seem to watch me, that I feel as if
+I had to ask permission to draw my breath. Out in the narrow streets of
+this little picture town, I see dark-skinned, bare-footed girls. Some of
+them carry skins of wine on their heads. All of them are poor. They also
+are gloriously free. As they pass the palace, they look up enviously,
+and I, from the inside, look out enviously. I know how Richard of the
+Lion Heart felt when he was a prisoner in France, only I have not the
+comfort of a Lion Heart, and it is not written in the book of things
+that you shall pass outside and hear my harp&mdash;and rescue me.... One
+little taste of liberty I give myself. It caused a terrible battle at
+first, but I was stubborn and told them that if I was going to be Queen
+I was going to do just what I wanted, and that if they didn't like it,
+they could get some other girl to be Queen, so of course they let me....
+There is an old half-forgotten roadway walled in on both sides that runs
+through the town from this horrible palace to the woods upon the
+mountain. There is some sort of foolish legend that in the old days the
+Kings used to go by this protected road to a high point called Look<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>-out
+Rock, and stand there where they could see pretty much all of this
+miserable little Kingdom and a great deal of the Mediterranean besides.
+No one uses it now except me; but I do as often as I can steal away. I
+dress in old clothes and take the little Inca god with me and no one
+knows us. We slip off among the bowlders and pine trees where the view
+is wonderful, and as his godship presides on a moss-covered rock and I
+sit on the carpet of pine needles, he gives me advice. Somewhere in
+these woods crowds of children live. They are very shy, and for a long
+time looked at me wonderingly from big liquid eyes, but now I have made
+friends with them and they come and sit around me in a circle and make
+me tell them fairy stories....</p>
+
+<p>"Once, dear, I was strong enough to say 'no' to you. Twice I could not
+be."</p>
+
+<p>The reader paused and scowled at the wall with set jaws.</p>
+
+<p>"But when you read this, almost three thousand miles away, there will be
+only a few days between me and (it is hard to say it) the marriage and
+the coronation. He is to be crowned on the same day that we are married.
+Then I suppose I can't even write what is in my heart."</p>
+
+<p>Benton rose and paced the narrow confines of the cabin. Suddenly he
+halted. "Even under sealed orders," he mused slowly, "one may dispose of
+three<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> thousand miles. They, at least, are behind." A countenance
+somewhat drawn schooled its features into normal expressionlessness, as
+a few moments afterward he rose to open the door in response to a
+rapping outside.</p>
+
+<p>As the door swung in a smile came to Benton's face: the first it had
+worn since that night when he had taken leave of Hope.</p>
+
+<p>"You, Blanco!" he exclaimed. "Why, <i>hombre</i>, the anchor is scarce down.
+You are prompt!"</p>
+
+<p>The physically superb man who stood at the threshold smiled. The gleam
+of perfect teeth accentuated the swarthy olive of his face and the crisp
+jet of his hair. His brown eyes twinkled good-humoredly. Jaw, neck and
+broad shoulders declared strength, while the slenderness of waist and
+thigh hinted of grace&mdash;a hint that every movement vindicated. It was the
+grace of the bull-fighter, to whom awkwardness would mean death.</p>
+
+<p>"I had your letter. It was correctly directed&mdash;Manuel Blanco, <i>Calle
+Isaac Peral</i>." The Spaniard smiled delightedly. "When one is once more
+to see an old friend, one does not delay. How am I? Ah, it is good of
+the <i>Se&ntilde;or</i> to ask. I do well. I have retired from the <i>Plaza de Toros</i>.
+I busy myself with guiding parties of <i>touristos</i> here and abroad&mdash;and
+in the collection and sale of antiques. But this time, what is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> your
+enterprise or pleasure, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>? What do you in Spain?"</p>
+
+<p>"My business in Spain," replied Benton slowly, "is to get out of Spain.
+After that I don't know. Will you go and take chances of anything that
+might befall? I sent for you to ask you whether you have leisure to
+accompany me on an enterprise which may involve danger. It's only fair
+to warn you."</p>
+
+<p>Blanco laughed. "Who reads <i>ma&ntilde;ana</i>?" he demanded, seating himself on
+the edge of the table, and busying his fingers with the deft rolling of
+a cigarette. "The <i>toreador</i> does not question the Prophets. I am at
+your disposition. But the streets of Cadiz await us. Let us talk of it
+all over the <i>table d'h&ocirc;te</i>."</p>
+
+<p>An hour later found the two in the <i>Calle Duke de Tetuan</i>, blazing with
+lights like a jeweler's show-case.</p>
+
+<p>The narrow fissure between its walls was aflow with the evening current
+of promenaders, crowding its scant breadth, and sending up a medley of
+laughter and musical sibilants. Grandees strolled stiffly erect with
+long capes thrown back across their left shoulders to show the brave
+color of velvet linings. Young dandies of army and navy, conscious of
+their multi-colored uniforms, sifted along through the press, toying
+with rigidly-waxed mustaches and regarding the warm beauty of their
+countrywomen through keen, appreciative eyes, not untinged with
+sensuousness. Here<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> and there a common <i>hombre</i> in short jacket, wide,
+low-crowned <i>sombrero</i> and red sash, zig-zagged through the
+pleasure-seekers to cut into a darker side street whence drifted pungent
+whiffs of garlic, black olives and peppers from the stalls of the street
+salad-venders. Occasionally a Moor in fez and wide-bagging trousers,
+passed silently through the volatile chatter, looking on with jet eyes
+and lips drawn down in an impervious dignity.</p>
+
+<p>They found a table in one of the more prominent caf&eacute;s from which they
+could view through the plate-glass front the parade in the street, as
+well as the groups of coffee-sippers within.</p>
+
+<p>"Yonder," prompted Blanco, indicating with his eyes a near-by group, "he
+with the green-lined cape, is the Duke de Tavira, one of the richest men
+in Spain&mdash;it is on his estate that they breed the bulls for the rings of
+Cadiz and Seville. Yonder, quarreling over politics, are newspaper men
+and Republicans. Yonder, artists." He catalogued and assorted for the
+American the personalities about the place, presuming the curiosity
+which should be the tourist's attribute-in-chief.</p>
+
+<p>"And at the large table&mdash;yonder under the potted palms, and
+half-screened by the plants&mdash;who are they?" questioned Benton
+perfunctorily. "They appear singularly engrossed in their talk."</p>
+
+<p>"Assume to look the other way, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>, so they will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> not suspect that
+we speak of them," cautioned the Andalusian. "I dare say that if one
+could overhear what they say, he could sell his news at his own price.
+Who knows but they may plan new colors for the map of Southern Europe?"</p>
+
+<p>Benton's gaze wandered over to the table in question, then came
+uninquisitively back to Blanco's impassive face. It took more than
+European politics to distract him.</p>
+
+<p>"International intrigue?" he inquired.</p>
+
+<p>The eyes of the other were idly contemplating the street windows, and as
+he talked he did not turn them toward the men whom he described.
+Occasionally he looked at Benton and then vacantly back to the street
+parade, or the red end of his own cigarette.</p>
+
+<p>"There is a small, and, in itself, an unimportant Kingdom with
+Mediterranean sea-front, called Galavia," said Blanco. Benton's start
+was slight, and his features if they gave a telltale wince at the word
+became instantly casual again in expression. But his interest was no
+longer forced by courtesy. It hung from that moment fixed on the
+narrative.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, I see the <i>Se&ntilde;or</i> knows of it," interpolated Blanco. "The tall man
+with the extremely pale face and the singularly piercing eye who sits
+facing us,"&mdash;Blanco paused,&mdash;"is the Duke Louis Delgado. He is the
+nephew of the late King of Galavia, and if&mdash;"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> the Spaniard gave an
+expressive shrug, and watched the smoke ring he had blown widen as it
+floated up toward the ceiling&mdash;"if by any chance, or mischance, Prince
+Karyl, who is to be crowned at Puntal three days hence, should be called
+to his reward in heaven, the gentleman who sits there would be crowned
+King of Galavia in his stead."</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2>
+
+<h3>OF CERTAIN TRANSPIRINGS AT A CAF&Eacute; TABLE</h3>
+
+<p>Benton's eyes seemed hypnotically drawn to the table pointed out, but he
+kept them tensely riveted on his coffee cup.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?" he impatiently prompted.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," continued Blanco absently, "no one could regret more
+profoundly than the Grand Duke any accident or fatality which might
+befall his royal kinsman, yet even the holy saints cannot prevent evil
+chances!" He paused to sip his coffee. "At the right of 'Louis, the
+Dreamer,' as he is called, sits the Count Borttorff, who is not greatly
+in favor with Prince Karyl. He, too, is a Galavian of noble birth, but
+Paris knows him better than Puntal. He on the left, the man with the
+puffed eyes and the dissipated mouth&mdash;you will notice also a scar over
+the left temple&mdash;" Blanco was regarding his cigarette tip as he flecked
+an ash to the floor&mdash;"is Monsieur Jusseret supposed to be high in the
+affairs of the French <i>Cabinet Noir</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"There is one more&mdash;and a vacant chair," suggested Benton.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The <i>toreador</i> nodded. "True, I had not forgotten the other. Tall,
+black-haired, not unlike yourself in appearance, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>, save for a
+heavier jaw and the mustache which points upward. He is an Englishman by
+birth, a native of the world by adoption. Once he bore a British army
+commission. Now he is seen in distinguished society"&mdash;Blanco
+laughed&mdash;"when distinguished society wants something done which clean
+men will not do. His name, just now, is Martin. In many quarters he is
+better known as the English Jackal. Where one sees him one may scent
+conspiracy."</p>
+
+<p>In all the life and color compassed between the four walls of Moorish
+tiles and arches, Benton felt the magnet of the group irresistibly
+drawing his eyes to itself.</p>
+
+<p>"And this gathering about a table for a cup of coffee, in Cadiz&mdash;what of
+it?" argued Benton. He tried to speak as if his curiosity were dilute
+and his thoughts west of the Atlantic. "Are they not all known here?"</p>
+
+<p>Again Blanco gave the expressive Spanish shrug.</p>
+
+<p>"Few people here know any of them. I only said, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>, that if any
+chance should cause Galavia to mourn her new King that same chance would
+elevate the tall, pale gentleman from a caf&eacute; table to a throne. I did
+not say that the chance would occur."</p>
+
+<p>"And yet?" urged Benton, his eyes narrowing,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> "your words seem to hint
+more than they express. What is it, Manuel?"</p>
+
+<p>The Spaniard took a handful of matches from a porcelain receptacle on
+the table. He laid one down.</p>
+
+<p>"Let that match," he smilingly suggested, "stand for the circumstance of
+the Grand Duke leaving Paris for Cadiz which is&mdash;well, nearer to
+Puntal&mdash;and less observant than Paris." He laid another on the marble
+table-top with its sulphur head close to the first, so that the two
+radiated from a common center like spokes from a hub. "Regard that as a
+coincidence of the arrival of the Count Borttorff from the other
+direction, but at the same time, and at the precise season of the
+coronation and marriage of the King." He looked at the two matches, then
+successively laid down others, all with the heads at the common center.
+"That," he said, "is the joining of the group by the distinguished
+Frenchman&mdash;that the presence of the English Jackal&mdash;that is the chance
+that runs against any King or Queen of meeting death. That&mdash;" he struck
+another match and held it a moment burning in his fingers "&mdash;regard
+that, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>, as the flaring up of ambitions that are thwarted by a
+life or two."</p>
+
+<p>He touched the burning match to the grouped tips of sulphur and his
+teeth gleamed white as he contemplated the little spurt of hissing
+flame. Then he dropped his flattened hand upon the tiny eruption and
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>extinguished it, as his sudden grin died away to a bored smile.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><a name="illust-107.jpg" id="illust-107.jpg"></a><img src="images/illust-107.jpg" width='599' height='700' alt="HIS TEETH GLEAMED WHITE AS HE CONTEMPLATED THE LITTLE SPURT OF HISSING FLAME." /></p>
+
+<h4>HIS TEETH GLEAMED WHITE AS HE CONTEMPLATED THE LITTLE SPURT OF HISSING FLAME.</h4>
+
+<p>"There, it is over," he yawned, "and of course it may not happen. <i>Quien
+sabe?</i>"</p>
+
+<p>"And if they should flare up&mdash;" Benton spoke slowly, carefully, "others
+might suffer than the King?"</p>
+
+<p>"How should one say? The King alone would suffice, but Kings are rarely
+found in solitude," reasoned the Andalusian. "For a brief moment Europe
+looks with eyes of interest on the feasting little capital. The King
+will not be alone. No, it must be&mdash;so one would surmise&mdash;at the
+coronation."</p>
+
+<p>"Good God!" Benton gaspingly breathed the exclamation. "But, man, think
+of it&mdash;the women&mdash;the children&mdash;the utterly innocent people&mdash;the Queen!"</p>
+
+<p>The Spaniard leaned back, balancing his chair on two legs, his hands
+spread on the table. "<i>Si, Se&ntilde;or</i>, it is regrettable. Yet nothing on
+earth appears so easy to supply as Kings&mdash;except Queens. And after all,
+what is it to us&mdash;an American millionaire&mdash;a Cadiz <i>toreador</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>For a moment Benton was silent. When he spoke it was in quick,
+clear-clipped interrogation.</p>
+
+<p>"You know Puntal and Galavia?"</p>
+
+<p>"As I know Spain."</p>
+
+<p>"Manuel, suppose the quaking of a throne <i>does</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> interest me, you will
+go there with me&mdash;even though I may lead you where its fall may crush us
+both?"</p>
+
+<p>The Spaniard grinned with a dazzling show of white teeth. His shoulders
+rose and fell in a shrug. "As well a tumbling castle wall as a charging
+bull."</p>
+
+<p>"Good. The first thing is to learn all we can of Louis and his party."</p>
+
+<p>"There is," observed Blanco calmly, "a table on this side also shielded
+by plants. From its angle we can observe,&mdash;and be ourselves protected
+from their view. However, we will first go for a stroll in the <i>calle</i>
+and return. The change of position will then be less noticeable. Also,
+the <i>Se&ntilde;or's</i> forehead is beaded with moisture. The air of the street
+will be grateful."</p>
+
+<p>As Benton rose he noticed that the Grand Duke was leaning confidentially
+toward the member of the French <i>Cabinet Noir</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Fifteen minutes later the two men were ensconced in their more sheltered
+coign, with wine glasses before them, and all the seeming of idle hours
+to kill.</p>
+
+<p>"Is Louis ostensibly a friend of the throne?" demanded the American.</p>
+
+<p>"Professedly, he is, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>. He will write his felicitations when the
+marriage and the crowning occur&mdash;he will even send suitable gifts, but
+he will remain at his caf&eacute; here with his absinthe, or in Paris near the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>
+fair Comptessa Astaride, whom he adores, unless, of course, he goes to
+touch the match."</p>
+
+<p>"Does he never return to Puntal?"</p>
+
+<p>"Once in five years he has been there. Then he went quietly to his
+hunting lodge which is ten miles, as the crow flies from the capital,
+yet barred off by the mountain ridge. It is two days' journey by sea
+from Puntal, and save by the sea one comes only through the mountain
+pass, which is always guarded. Yet on that occasion heliographs reported
+his movements; the King's escort was doubled and the King went little
+abroad."</p>
+
+<p>"Who stands at Louis' back? Revolutionists?"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Dios!</i> No, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>. The Galavians are cattle. Karyl or Louis, it is
+one to them. Galavia is a key. The key cares not at what porter's belt
+it jingles. Europe cares who opens and closes the lock. <i>Comprende?</i>
+Spain cares, France cares, Italy cares, even the Northern nations care.
+The movement of pawns affects castles and kings."</p>
+
+<p>Manuel suddenly halted in his flow of talk. "Blessed Saints!" he
+breathed softly. "When he comes nearer you will see him&mdash;the palms
+obscure him now. It is Colonel Von Ritz. He has just entered. He stands
+near Karyl and the throne. He is a great man wasted in a toy kingdom.
+All Europe envies the services which Von Ritz squanders on Galavia."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Benton looked up with a rush of memories, and was glad that the Galavian
+could not see him.</p>
+
+<p>Like all the men concerned, Von Ritz was inconspicuously a civilian in
+dress, but as he came down the center of the room he was, as always, the
+commanding figure, challenging attention. His steady eyes swept the
+place with dispassionate scrutiny. His straight mouth-line betrayed no
+expression. He came slowly, idly, as though looking for someone. When
+still some distance from the table where sat the Duke Louis, he halted
+and their eyes met. Those of the Duke, as he inclined his head slightly,
+stiffly, wore a glint of veiled hostility. Those of Von Ritz, as he
+returned the salute, no whit more cordially, were blank, except that for
+the moment, as he stood regarding the party, his non-committal pupils
+seemed to bore into each face about the table and to catalogue them all
+in an insolent inventory.</p>
+
+<p>Each man in the group uneasily shifted his eyes. Then Karyl's officer
+turned on his heel and left the place. Louis watched him, scowling, and
+as the Colonel passed into the street turned suddenly and spoke in a
+vehement whisper. Jusseret's sardonic lips twisted into a wry smile as
+though in recognition of an adversary's clever check.</p>
+
+<p>The caf&eacute; was now filled. Few tables remained un<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>occupied, and of these,
+several were near that of the Ducal party.</p>
+
+<p>Blanco rose. "Wait for me, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>," he whispered, then went to the
+front of the caf&eacute; where Benton lost him in a crowd at the door. A moment
+later he came lurching back. His lower lip was stupidly pendent, his
+eyes heavy and dull, and as he floundered about he dropped with the
+aimless air of one heavily intoxicated into a chair by a vacant table
+not more than ten feet distant from that of Louis, the Dreamer.</p>
+
+<p>There he remained huddled in apparent torpor and for some moments
+unobserved, until the Duke signaled to a passing waiter and indicated
+the <i>toreador</i> with a glance. The waiter came over to Blanco. "The
+<i>Se&ntilde;or</i> will find another table," he said with the ingratiating courtesy
+of one paying a compliment. "It is regrettable, but this one is
+reserved." Blanco appeared too stupid to understand, and when finally he
+did grasp the meaning he rose with profuse and clumsy apologies and
+staggered vacantly about in the immediate neighborhood of the conspiring
+coterie. Finally, after receiving further attention and guidance from
+the waiter, he returned to Benton, and dropping into his chair leaned
+over, his white teeth flashing a satisfied smile. "The matches may not
+flare, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>," he said, "but it would appear it was planned. Now
+Martin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> and Borttorff cannot go to Puntal. Since the brief visit of Von
+Ritz they are branded men. The others are already known to Karyl's
+government."</p>
+
+<p>Benton sat with his brows knitted intently listening.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," went on Blanco, "there is one thing more. They await the man for
+whom they hold the empty chair."</p>
+
+<p>There was a brief silence, then the Spaniard uttered a low exclamation
+of satisfaction. Benton glanced up to see a young man of frank face,
+blond mustache and Paris clothes drop into the vacant place with evident
+apologies for his tardiness.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah," breathed Blanco again, "I feared it would be someone I did not
+know. He is the <i>Teniente</i> Lapas, of Karyl's Palace guard. The
+<i>pobrecito</i>! I wonder what post he hopes to adorn at the Court of the
+Pretender."</p>
+
+<p>For a moment the Spaniard looked on with an expression of melancholy
+reflection. "That boy," he said "at last, has the trust and friendship
+of the King. Before him lies every prospect of advancement, yet he has
+been beguiled by the Countess Astaride, and throws himself into a plot
+against Karyl. It is pitiable when one is perfidious so young&mdash;and with
+such small cause."</p>
+
+<p>"Who is the Countess Astaride?" inquired the American.</p>
+
+<p>"One of the most beautiful women in Europe, to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> whom these children are
+playthings. For her there is only Louis Delgado. It is her firing of his
+dreams which makes him aspire to a throne. It is she who has the
+determination. He can see visions of power only in the colors of his
+absinthe glass. She uses men to her ends. Lapas is the latest&mdash;unless&mdash;"
+Blanco paused&mdash;"unless he is playing two parts, and really serves Karyl.
+Come, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>, there is nothing further to interest us here."</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+
+<h3>THE PASSING PRINCESS AND THE MISTAKEN COUNTESS</h3>
+
+<p>With the sapphire bay of Puntal at his back, his knees clasped between
+interlacing fingers, Benton sat on the stone sea-wall and affected to
+whistle up a lightness of heart. Near at hand sprawled a picturesque
+city, its houses tinted in pea-greens, pinks and soft blues, or as white
+and decorative as though fashioned in icing on a cake.</p>
+
+<p>Clinging steeply to higher levels and leaning on buttressing walls, lay
+outspread vineyards and cane fields and gardens. Splotching the whole
+with imperial and gorgeous purple, hung masses of bougonvillea between
+trellis and masonry. At a more lofty line, where the sub-tropical
+profusion halted in the warning breath of a keener atmosphere, came the
+scrub growth and beyond that, in succeeding altitudes, the pine belt,
+the snow line and the film of trailing cloud on the white peaks.</p>
+
+<p>Out of the center of the color-splashed town rose the square tower of
+the ancient cathedral, white in a coat of plaster for two-thirds of its
+height, but gray at its top in the nakedness of mossy stone.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>To its dilapidated clock Benton's eyes traveled repeatedly and anxiously
+while he waited.</p>
+
+<p>From the clock they wandered in turn to the road circling the bay, and
+the cliff at his left, where the jail-like walls of the King's Palace
+rose sheer from the rock, fifty feet above him.</p>
+
+<p>From the direction of the Cathedral drifted fragments of band music, and
+the bugle calls of marching platoons. Everywhere festivity reigned,
+working great profits to the keepers of the wine-shops.</p>
+
+<p>Manuel Blanco turned the corner and Benton slipped quickly down from his
+perch on the wall and fell into step as the other passed.</p>
+
+<p>"It is difficult to learn anything, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>." The Spaniard spoke low as
+he led the way outward from the city.</p>
+
+<p>"Puntal is usually a quiet place and the festivities have made it like a
+child at a <i>fiesta</i>. One hears only 'Long live the King&mdash;the Queen!'
+There are to be illuminations to-night, and music, and the limit will be
+taken off the roulette wheels at the Strangers' Club. Bah! One could
+have read it in the papers without leaving Cadiz."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you have learned nothing?"</p>
+
+<p>"One thing, yes. An old friend of mine has come for the festivities from
+the Duke's estate. He says<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> the pass is picketed and a guard is posted
+at the Look-out Rock."</p>
+
+<p>"The Look-out Rock?" Benton repeated the words with an inflection of
+inquiry.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;look above you at the hill whose summit is less high than the
+ridge peaks&mdash;there below the snow." Blanco suddenly raised his voice
+from confidential undertone to the sing-song of the professional guide.
+"Yonder," he said, scarcely changing the direction of his pointed
+finger, "is the unfinished sanatorium for consumptives which the Germans
+undertook and left unfinished." Two soldiers were sauntering by, smart
+in newly issued uniforms of tall red caps, dark tunics, sky-blue
+breeches, and polished boots. "That point," went on Blanco, dropping his
+voice again, as they passed out of earshot, "is three thousand, five
+hundred feet above the sea. From the rock by the pines&mdash;if you had a
+strong glass, you could see the Galavian flag which flies there&mdash;the eye
+sweeps the sea for many empty leagues. One's gaze can also follow the
+gorge where runs the pass through the mountains. Also, to the other
+side, one has an eagle's glimpse of the Grand Duke's hunting lodge.
+There is an observatory just back of the rock and flag. The speck of
+light which you can see, like a splinter of crystal, is its dome, but
+only military astronomers now look through its telescope. There one can
+read the tale of open shutters<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> or barred windows in the house of Louis,
+the Dreamer. You understand?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, do you see the thread of broken masonry zig-zagging upward from
+the Palace? That is a walled drive which runs part of the way up to the
+rock. In other days the Kings of Galavia went thus from their castle to
+the point whence they could see the peninsula spread out below like a
+map on the page of a school-book."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes? What else?"</p>
+
+<p>"This. The lodge of the Duke as seen by the telescope sleeps
+shuttered&mdash;an expanse of blank walls. Yet the Duke is there!"</p>
+
+<p>"Louis&mdash;in Galavia?"</p>
+
+<p>"Wait." Blanco laid his hand on the other's arm and smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"My friend is superstitious&mdash;and ignorant. He tells how the Duke has a
+ship's mast with wires on a tower fronting the far side. He says Louis
+talks with the open sea."</p>
+
+<p>"A Marconi mast?"</p>
+
+<p>Manuel nodded.</p>
+
+<p>Benton's eyes narrowed under drawn brows. When he spoke his voice was
+tense.</p>
+
+<p>"In God's name, Manuel," he whispered, "what is the answer?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The Spaniard met the gaze gravely. "I fancy, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>," he said slowly,
+"the matches will burn."</p>
+
+<p>"When? Where?"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Quien sabe?</i>" Blanco paused to light a cigarette. Two priests, their
+black robes relieved by crimson sashes and stockings, approached, and
+until they were at a safe distance he talked on once more at random with
+the sing-song patter of the guide. "That dungeon-like building is the
+old Fortress <i>do Freres</i>. It has clung to that gut of rock out there in
+the bay since the days when the Moors held the Mediterranean. It is said
+that the new King will convert it from a fortress into a prison. It is
+now employed as an arsenal."</p>
+
+<p>Slowly the two men moved back to the busier part of the city. They
+walked in silence until they were swallowed in the crowds drifting near
+the Central Avenue. Finally Blanco leaned forward, moved by the anxious
+face of his companion. "<i>Ma&ntilde;ana, Se&ntilde;or</i>," he suggested reassuringly.
+"Perhaps we may learn to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>"And to-morrow may be too late," replied Benton.</p>
+
+<p>"Hardly, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>. The marriage and coronation are the day following. It
+should be one of those occasions." Benton only shuddered.</p>
+
+<p>They swung into the <i>Ruo Centrale</i>, between lining sycamores, olive
+trees and acacias, to be engulfed in a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> jostling press of feast-day
+humanity. Suddenly Benton felt his coat-sleeve tugged.</p>
+
+<p>"Let us stop," Manuel shouted into his ear above the roar of the
+carnival clamor. "The Royal carriage comes."</p>
+
+<p>Between a garden and the pavement ran a stone coping, topped by a tall
+iron grill, and laden with screening vines. The two men mounted this
+masonry and clung to the iron bars, as the crowd was driven back from
+the street by the outriders. Before Benton's eyes the whole mass of
+humanity swam in a blur of confusion and vertigo. The passing files of
+blue and red soldiery seemed wavering figures mounted on reeling horses.
+The King's carriage swung into view and a crescendo of cheering went up
+from the crowd.</p>
+
+<p>Benton saw blurred circles of color whirling dizzily about a steady
+center, and the center was the slender woman at Karyl's side, who was
+the day after to-morrow to become his Queen. He saw the fixed smile with
+which she tried to acknowledge the salutations as the crowd eddied about
+her carriage. Her wide, stricken eyes were shimmery with imprisoned
+tears. To drive through the streets of Puntal with that half-stunned
+misery written clear in lips and eyes, she must, he knew, have reached
+the outmost border of endurance. Karyl bent solicitously forward and
+spoke, and she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> nodded as if answering in a dream, smiling wanly. It was
+all as some young Queen might have gone to the guillotine rather than to
+her coronation. As she looked bewilderedly from side to side her glance
+fell upon the clustering flowers of the vine. Benton gripped the iron
+bars and groaned, and then her eyes met his. For a moment her pupils
+dilated and one gloved hand convulsively tightened on the paneling of
+the carriage door. The man dropped into the crowd and was swallowed up,
+and he knew by her familiar gesture of brushing something away from her
+temples, that she believed she had seen an image projected from a
+troubled brain.</p>
+
+<p>"Come," he said brokenly to his companion, "for God's sake get me out of
+this crowd."</p>
+
+<hr class='smler' />
+
+<p>The Strangers' Club of Puntal sits high on a solid wall of rock and
+overlooks the sea. Its beauty is too full of wizardry to seem real, and
+what nature had done in view and sub-tropical luxuriance the syndicate
+which operates the ball rooms, tea gardens, and roulette wheels has
+striven to abet. To-night a moon two-thirds full immersed the grounds in
+a bath of blue and silver, and far off below the cliff wall the
+Mediterranean was phosphorescent. In the room where the <i>croupiers</i> spun
+the wheels, the color scheme was profligate.</p>
+
+<p>Benton idled at one of the tables, his eyes searching the crowd in the
+faint hope of discovering some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> thread which he might follow up to
+definite conclusion. Beyond the wheel, just at the <i>croupier's</i> elbow,
+stood a woman, audaciously yet charmingly gowned in red, with a
+scale-like shimmer of passementerie. A red rose in her black hair threw
+into conspicuous effect its intense luster.</p>
+
+<p>She might have been the genius of <i>Rouge et Noir</i>. Her litheness had the
+panther's sinuous strength. The vivid contrast of olive cheeks, carmine
+lips and dark eyes, gave stress to her slender sensuousness.</p>
+
+<p>Hers was the allurement of poppy and passion-flower. In her movements
+was suggestion of vital feminine force.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps the incurious glance of the American made itself felt, for as
+she threw down a fresh <i>louis d'or</i>, she looked up and their eyes met.
+For an instant her expression was almost that of one who stifles an
+impulse to recognize another. Possibly, thought Benton, she had mistaken
+him for someone else.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Mon dieu</i>," whispered a voice in French, "the Comptessa d'Astaride is
+charming this evening."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, such wit! Such charm!" enthused another voice at Benton's back.
+"She is most perfect in those gowns of unbroken lines, with a single
+rose." Evidently the men left the tables at once, for Benton heard no
+more. He also turned away a moment later to make way for an Italian in
+whose feverish eyes burned the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> roulette-lust. He went to the farthest
+end of the gardens, where there was deep shadow, and a seaward outlook
+over the cliff wall. There the glare of electric bulbs and blazing
+doorways was softened, and the orchestra's music was modulated.
+Presently he was startled by a ripple of laughter at his shoulder, low
+and rich in musical vibrance.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, it is not like this in your gray, fog-wrapped country."</p>
+
+<p>Benton wheeled in astonishment to encounter the dazzling smile of the
+Countess Astaride. She was standing slender as a young girl, all agleam
+in the half-light as though she wore an armor of glowing copper and
+garnets.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon," stammered the American, but she laid a hand lightly
+on his arm and smilingly shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"I know, Monsieur Martin, we have not met, but you were with the Duke at
+Cadiz. You have come in his interest. In his cause, I acknowledge no
+conventions." In her voice was the fusing of condescension and regal
+graciousness. "It was wise," she thoughtfully added, "to shave your
+mustache, but even so Von Ritz will know you. You cannot be too
+guarded."</p>
+
+<p>For an instant Benton stood with his hands braced on the coping
+regarding her curiously. Evidently he stood on the verge of some
+revelation, but the r&ocirc;le<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> in which her palpable mistake cast him was one
+he must play all in the dark.</p>
+
+<p>"You can trust me," she said with an impassioned note but without
+elevating her voice. "I am the Countess&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Astaride," finished Benton.</p>
+
+<p>Then he cautiously added the inquiry: "Have you heard the plans that
+were discussed by the Duke, and Jusseret and Borttorff?"</p>
+
+<p>"And yourself and Lieutenant Lapas," she augmented.</p>
+
+<p>"And Lapas and myself," admitted Benton, lying fluently.</p>
+
+<p>"I know only that Louis is to wait at his lodge to hear by wireless
+whether France and Italy will recognize his government," she hastily
+recited; "and that on that signal you and Lapas wait to strike the
+blow."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know when?" inquired the American, fencing warily in the effort
+to lead her into betrayal of more definite information.</p>
+
+<p>"It must be soon&mdash;or never! But tell me, has Louis come? Has he reached
+his hunting lodge? Does he know that guards are at the rock? Do you, or
+Lapas, wait to flash the signal from the look-out? Ah, how my gaze shall
+be bent toward the flag-staff." Then, as her eyes wandered out to sea,
+her voice became soft with dreams. She laughed low and shook<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> her head.
+"Louis, Louis!" she murmured. "When you are King! But tell me&mdash;" again
+she was anxious, executive, imperious&mdash;"tell me everything!"</p>
+
+<p>Obviously he was mistaken for the English Jackal!</p>
+
+<p>Benton countered anxiously. "Yet, Your Majesty,"&mdash;he bent low as he
+anticipated her ambition in bestowing the title&mdash;"Your Majesty asks so
+many questions all at once, and we may be interrupted."</p>
+
+<p>Once more she was in a realm of air castles as she leaned on the stone
+coping and gazed off into the moonlight. "It is but the touching of a
+button," she murmured, "and <i>allons</i>! In the space of an explosion,
+dynasties change places." Suddenly she stood up. "You are right. We
+cannot talk here. I shall be missed. Take this"&mdash;she slipped a seal ring
+from her finger. "Come to me to-morrow morning. I am at the H&ocirc;tel de
+France. I shall be ostensibly out, but show the ring and you will be
+admitted. When I am Queen, you shall not go undecorated." She gave his
+hand a warm momentary pressure and was gone.</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+
+<h3>BENTON MUST DECIDE</h3>
+
+<p>On the next afternoon at the base of the flag-staff above Look-out Rock,
+Lieutenant Lapas nervously swept the leagues of sea and land, spreading
+under him, with strong glasses. Though the air was somewhat rarer and
+cooler here than below, beads of sweat stood out on his forehead, and
+the cigarettes which he incessantly smoked followed each other with a
+furious haste which denoted mental unrest.</p>
+
+<p>At a sound of foliage rustled aside and a displaced rock bumping down
+the slope, the watcher took the glasses from his eyes with a nervous
+start.</p>
+
+<p>Up the hill from the left climbed an unknown man. His features were
+those of a Spaniard. As the officer's eyes challenged him he halted,
+panting, to mop his brow with the air of one who takes a breathing space
+after violent exertion. The newcomer smiled pleasantly as he leaned
+against a bowlder and genially volunteered: "It is a long journey from
+the shore." Then after a moment he added in a tone of respectful
+inquiry: "You are Lieutenant Lapas?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The officer had regained his composure. He regarded the other with a
+mild scrutiny touched with superciliousness as he nodded acquiescence
+and in return demanded: "Who are you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Do you see that speck of white down yonder by the sea?" Blanco drew
+close and his outstretched finger pointed a line to the Duke's lodge. "I
+come from there," he explained with concise directness.</p>
+
+<p>The officer bit his lip.</p>
+
+<p>"Why did you come?" The Spaniard paused to roll a cigarette before he
+answered:</p>
+
+<p>"I come from the Duke, of course. Why else should I climb this accursed
+ladder of hills?"</p>
+
+<p>"What Duke?" The interrogation tumbled too eagerly from the soldier's
+lips to be consonant with his wary assumption of innocence. "There are
+so many Dukes. Myself, I serve only the King."</p>
+
+<p>The Spaniard's teeth gleamed, and there was a strangely disarming
+quality in the smile that broke in sudden illumination over his dark
+face.</p>
+
+<p>"I have been here only a few days," explained Blanco. Then, lying with
+apt fluency, he continued: "I have arrived from Cadiz in the service of
+the Grand Duke Louis Delgado, who will soon be His Majesty, Louis of
+Galavia, and I am sent to you as the bearer of his message." He ignored
+the other's protestations<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> of loyalty to the throne as completely as he
+ignored the frightened face of the man who made them.</p>
+
+<p>Lapas had whitened to the lips and now stood hesitant. "I don't
+understand," he stammered.</p>
+
+<p>The Spaniard's expression changed swiftly from good humor to the
+sternness of a taskmaster.</p>
+
+<p>"The Duke is impatient," he asserted, "of delays and misunderstandings
+on the part of his servants. His Grace believed that your memory had
+been well schooled. Louis, the King, may prove forgetful of those who
+are forgetful of Louis, the Duke."</p>
+
+<p>Lapas still stood silent, pitiably unnerved. If the man was Karyl's spy
+an incautious reply might cost him his life. If he was genuinely a
+messenger from the Pretender any hesitation might prove equally fatal.</p>
+
+<p>Time was important. Blanco drew from his pocket a gold seal ring which
+until last night had adorned the finger of the Countess Astaride. Upon
+its shield was the crest of the House of Delgado. At the sight of the
+familiar quarterings, the officer's face became contrite, apologetic,
+but above all immeasurably relieved.</p>
+
+<p>"Caution is so necessary," he explained. "One cannot be too careful. It
+is not for myself alone, but for the Duke also that I must have a care."</p>
+
+<p>Blanco accepted the explanation with a bow, then he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> spoke energetically
+and rapidly, pressing his advantage before the other's weakness should
+lead him into fresh vacillation.</p>
+
+<p>"The Duke feared that there might be some misunderstanding as to the
+signal and the programme. He wished me to make it clear to you."</p>
+
+<p>Lapas nodded and, turning, led the way through the pine trees to a small
+kiosk that was something between a sentinel box and a signal station
+built against the walls of the old observatory.</p>
+
+<p>"I think I understand," said Lapas, "but I shall be glad to have you
+repeat the Duke's commands and inform me if any changes have been made."</p>
+
+<p>"No, the arrangements stand unaltered," replied the Spaniard. "My
+directions were that you should repeat to me the order of your
+instructions and that I should judge for His Grace whether or not your
+memory is retentive. There must be no hitch."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know you," demurred Lapas.</p>
+
+<p>"His Grace knows me&mdash;and trusts me. That should be sufficient," retorted
+Blanco. "I bring you credentials which you will refuse to recognize at
+your own risk. Unless I were in the confidence of the Duke, I could
+scarcely be here with a knowledge of your plans."</p>
+
+<p>Blanco's eyes blazed in sudden and well simulated wrath. "I have no time
+to waste in argument. Choose quickly. Shall I return to Louis and inform
+him that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> you refuse to trust those he selects to bear his orders?"</p>
+
+<p>For an instant the Spaniard stood contemptuously regarding the other's
+terror, then with a disgusted exclamation he turned on his heel and
+started to the door of the kiosk. But Lapas was in a moment catching at
+his elbow and protesting himself convinced. He led Blanco back to a
+seat.</p>
+
+<p>"Listen." The Lieutenant sat at the crude table in the center of the
+small room and talked rapidly, as one rehearsing a well-learned lesson.</p>
+
+<p>"The Fortress <i>do Freres</i> is stocked with explosives. Karyl goes there
+with Von Ritz and others of his suite to inspect the place with the view
+of turning it into a prison. The Grand Duke, waiting at his hunting
+lodge, is to receive by wireless the message from Jusseret and
+Borttorff, who convey the verdict of Europe, as to whether or not it is
+decided to recognize his Government. If their message be favorable, he
+will raise the Galavian flag on the west tower of the hunting lodge, and
+I shall relay the message here with the flag at Look-out Point. This
+flag-pole will be the signal to those in the city whose fingers are on
+the key, and whose key will explode the powder in <i>do Freres</i>. If the
+flag which now flies from the flag-staff here is still flying when the
+King enters the fortress, the cap will explode. If the flag-staff is
+empty, the King's visit will be un<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>eventful. It will require fifteen
+minutes for the King to go from the Palace to the Fortress. I must not
+remain here&mdash;I must be where I can see."</p>
+
+<p>Lapas rose and consulted his watch with nervous haste. "You will excuse
+me?" he added. "I must be at my post. Are you satisfied?"</p>
+
+<p>Blanco also rose, bowing as he drew back the heavy chair he had
+occupied. "I am quite satisfied," he approved. His hands were gripping
+the chairback and when Lapas had taken two paces to the front, and
+Blanco had appraised the distance between, the chair left the floor.
+With the same lightning swiftness of motion that had brought salvos of
+applause from the bull-rings of Cadiz and Seville, he swung it above his
+head and brought down its cumbersome weight in an arc.</p>
+
+<p>Lapas, his eyes fixed on the door, had no hint. A picture of serene sky
+and steady mountains was blotted from his brain. There was blackness
+instead&mdash;and unconsciousness.</p>
+
+<p>A bleeding scalp told the <i>toreador</i> that the blow had only cut and
+stunned.</p>
+
+<p>Rapidly he bound and gagged his captive. Dragging him back through the
+narrow room he made certainty doubly sure by tying him to the base of
+the neglected telescope in the abandoned observatory.</p>
+
+<p>A hundred yards below the rock, tucked out of sight<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> of the man at the
+flag-pole, stretched a ledge-like strip of level ground, backed by the
+thick tangle of growth which masked the slope. Beyond its edge of
+roughly blocked and crevassed stone, the gorge fell away a dizzy
+thousand feet. Out of the pines struggled the half-overgrown path where
+once a road had led from the castle. This way the earlier Lords of
+Galavia had come to look across the backbone of the peninsula, to the
+east.</p>
+
+<p>As Benton paced the ledge impatiently, awaiting the outcome of Blanco's
+reconnoiter, he noticed with a nauseating sense of onrushing peril how
+the purpled shadows of the mountains were lengthening across the valley
+and beginning to creep up the other side.</p>
+
+<p>Each time his pacing brought him to the edge of the clearing he paused
+to look down at the sullen walls of Karyl's castle.</p>
+
+<p>A woman, flushed and breathless from the climb, pushed through the scrub
+pines at the path's end and stopped suddenly at the marge of the
+clearing. Her slender girlish figure, clad in corduroy skirt and blue
+jersey, was poised with lance-like straightness, and a grace as free as
+a boy's. Her hands, cased in battered gauntlets, went suddenly to her
+breast, as though she would muffle the palpitant heart beneath the
+jersey. She stood for a moment looking at the man and the ultramarine of
+her eyes clouded slowly into gray. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> pink flush of exercise died
+instantly to pallor in her cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>Then the lips overcame an impulse to quiver and spoke slowly in an
+undertone and with marked effort. "This is twice that I have seen you,"
+she whispered, "although you are three thousand miles away."</p>
+
+<p>The man wheeled, not suddenly, but heavily and slowly. "I am real," he
+answered simply.</p>
+
+<p>Cara put out one hand like a sleep-walker, and came forward, still
+incredulous.</p>
+
+<p>"Cara, dearest one!" he said impetuously. "You must have known that I
+would be near you&mdash;that I would be standing by, even though I couldn't
+help!"</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head. "I have been having these hallucinations, you know,
+of late." She explained as though to herself. "I guess it's&mdash;it's just
+missing people so that does it."</p>
+
+<p>She was close to him now, close, too, to the sheer drop of the cliff,
+walking forward with eyes wide and fixed on his face. He took a quick
+step forward and swept her to him, crushing her against his breast.</p>
+
+<p>She gave a glad exclamation of realization, and her own arms closed
+impulsively around his neck.</p>
+
+<p>"You are real! You are real!" she whispered, looking into his eyes, her
+gauntleted hands holding his face between them.</p>
+
+<p>"Cara," he begged, "listen to me. It's my last<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> plea. You said in the
+letter I have in my pocket&mdash;there where your heart is beating&mdash;that you
+could not refuse me if I came again. Dear, this is 'again.' The <i>Isis</i>
+is a speck out there at sea awaiting a signal. Will you go? I have no
+throne to offer, but&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't," she cried, holding a hand over his lips. "For a minute&mdash;just
+for a little golden minute&mdash;let us forget thrones." Then as the furrow
+came back between her brows: "Oh, boy, it's my destiny to be always
+strong enough to resist happiness when I might have it by being less
+strong, and always too weak to bear bravely what must be borne&mdash;when it
+can't be helped."</p>
+
+<p>He stood silent.</p>
+
+<p>After a moment she went on. "And I love you. Ah, you know that well
+enough, but up there beyond your head which I love, I see the green and
+white and blue flag of Galavia which I hate, and destiny commands me to
+be disloyal to you for loyalty to it. On the eve of life imprisonment,"
+she went on, clinging to him, "I have stolen away to play truant perhaps
+for the last time&mdash;still craving freedom, longing for you; and now I
+find freedom, and you, just to lose you again! I can't&mdash;I can't&mdash;yes&mdash;I
+can&mdash;I will!"</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he held her off at arms' length and looked at her with a
+strange wide-eyed expression of discovery.</p>
+
+<p>"But," he cried with the vehemence of a sudden<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> thought, "you are up
+here&mdash;safe! Safe, whatever happens down there! Nothing that occurs there
+can affect you!"</p>
+
+<p>"Safe, of course," she spoke wonderingly. "What danger is there?"</p>
+
+<p>The man turned. "For God's sake&mdash;let me think a moment!" He dropped on
+the pine needles and sat with his hands covering his face and his
+fingers pressed into his temples. She came over.</p>
+
+<p>"Does that prevent your thinking?" she softly asked, dropping on her
+knees at his side and letting one hand rest on his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>For moments, lengthening into minutes, he sat immovable, fighting back
+the agonized and torrential flood of thought which burst upon him with
+unwarned temptation. The danger was not after all a danger to the woman
+he loved, but a menace to his enemy. She was safe three thousand feet
+above the threatening city. He had only to hold his hand, perhaps, for a
+half-hour; had only to keep her here and let matters follow their
+course.</p>
+
+<p>He was not entertaining the thought, except to assure himself that he
+could not entertain it, but it was racking him with its suddenness. The
+King was there&mdash;in peril. She was here&mdash;safe. Insistently these two
+facts assaulted his brain.</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>." Blanco broke noisily down<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> through the pines and
+halted where the path emerged. For an instant he stood in bewildered
+surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon, Your Highness&mdash;" he exclaimed, bending low; then, quenching the
+recognition in his eyes and assuming mistake, he laughed. "Ah, I ask
+forgiveness, <i>Se&ntilde;orita</i>. I mistook you for the Princess. The resemblance
+is strong. I see my error."</p>
+
+<p>"Manuel!" Benton rose unsteadily and stared at the <i>toreador</i> with a
+face pallid as chalk. He spoke wildly, "Quick, Manuel&mdash;have you learned
+anything?"</p>
+
+<p>The Spaniard glanced inquiringly at the girl, and as Benton nodded
+reassurance went on in a lowered voice. Only fragments of his speech
+reached Cara's ears. Her own thoughts left her too apathetic to listen.</p>
+
+<p>"The plan is this. It is to happen at the Fortress <i>do Freres</i> this
+afternoon while the King inspects the arsenal. Now, in fifteen minutes!"
+He pointed down toward the city. "See, the cort&eacute;ge leaves the Palace!
+Lapas was to be here at the rock&mdash;the blessed Saints help him! He is
+hobbled to his telescope." Swiftly he rehearsed the story as it had come
+from the lips of Lapas.</p>
+
+<p>Benton was studying the Duke's lodge with his glasses. "There is a flag
+flying on the west tower," he muttered.</p>
+
+<p>He turned slowly toward the Princess. Outstanding<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> veins were tracing
+cordlike lines on his temples. His fingers trembled as he focused the
+glasses.</p>
+
+<p>Blanco looked slowly from one to the other. Suddenly he threw back both
+shoulders and his eyes grew bright in full comprehension of the
+situation he had discovered.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Se&ntilde;or!</i>" he whispered.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?" echoed the American in a dull voice.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Se&ntilde;or</i>&mdash;suppose&mdash;suppose I have confused the signals?" The tone was
+insinuating.</p>
+
+<p>Benton's mind flashed back to a Sunday School class of his childhood and
+his infantile horror for the tale of a tempter on a high mountain
+offering the possession of all the world if only&mdash;if only&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>He took a step forward. Speech seemed to choke him.</p>
+
+<p>"In God's name!" he cried, "you have not forgotten?"</p>
+
+<p>The Spaniard slowly shook his head and smiled. The expression gave to
+his face a touch of the sinister. "No&mdash;but it is yet possible to forget,
+<i>Se&ntilde;or</i>. I serve no King, I serve you. Sometimes a mistake is the truest
+accuracy. <i>Quien sabe?</i>"</p>
+
+<p>The Andalusian looked at the girl who stood puzzled and waiting.
+"Sometimes in the <i>Plaza de Toros, Se&ntilde;or</i>," he went on, speaking rapidly
+and tensely, "the throngs cry, '<i>Bravo, matador</i>!' and toss coins into
+the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> ring. Yet in a moment the same throngs may shout until their
+throats are hoarse: '<i>Bravo, toro</i>!' A King is like a bull in the ring,
+<i>Se&ntilde;or</i>&mdash;he has a fickle fate. To me he is nothing&mdash;if it pleases
+them&mdash;it is their King&mdash;let them do as they wish." He shrugged his
+shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>Benton straightened. "Manuel," he said with a strained tone, "the flag
+comes down."</p>
+
+<p>The Andalusian smiled regretfully, and once more shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"As you say, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>, but are you sure you wish it so?"</p>
+
+<p>"Manuel, I mean that!" said the American with a steadied voice. "And for
+God's sake, Manuel," he added wildly, "throw the rope over the gorge
+when you have done it!"</p>
+
+<p>For a moment Benton stood rigid, his hands clenched together at his back
+as he watched the quick step of the Andalusian climbing to the
+flag-staff. At last he turned dully and looked down where he could see
+the royal cort&eacute;ge, not yet half-way along the road to the fortress, then
+he went over to the girl's side.</p>
+
+<p>"Cara," he said, "I have earned the right to kiss you good-by."</p>
+
+<p>"It's yours without the earning, but good-by&mdash;!" She shuddered. "What
+does it all mean?" she asked in bewilderment. "What was it you
+discussed?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Listen," he commanded. "Tell Von Ritz or Karyl that Lapas is a traitor
+and a prisoner in the observatory; that Louis is at his lodge and that
+the Countess Astaride is a conspirator in a plot to assassinate the
+King. Tell them that a percussion cap and key connect the magazines of
+<i>do Freres</i> with the city."</p>
+
+<p>The Princess looked at him with eyes that slowly widened in amazed
+comprehension. "I understand," she whispered. "And the flag&mdash;see, it is
+coming down&mdash;that means?"</p>
+
+<p>He dropped on one knee and lifted her fingers to his lips. "It means
+that you are to be crowned Queen in Galavia to-morrow," he answered with
+a groan. "Long live the Queen!"</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+
+<h3>CONCERNING FAREWELLS AND WARNINGS</h3>
+
+<p>"To-morrow!" repeated the girl with a shudder.</p>
+
+<p>Both stood silent under such a strain as cannot be long sustained. At
+the crunch of branch underfoot and the returning Blanco's, "<i>Se&ntilde;or!
+Se&ntilde;or!</i>" both started violently.</p>
+
+<p>"Look, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>," exclaimed the Spaniard. "The King has entered the
+fortress." Then, seeing that the eyes of both man and girl turned at his
+words from an intent gaze, not on the town but the opposite hills, he
+added, half-apologetic: "I shall go, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>, and look to my prisoner.
+If you need me, I shall be there."</p>
+
+<p>With the same stricken misery in her eyes that they had worn as she
+passed in her carriage, Cara remained motionless and silent.</p>
+
+<p>The bottom of the valley grew cloudy with shadow. The sun was kissing
+into rosy pink the snow caps of the western ridge. A cavalcade of
+horsemen emerged at last from <i>do Freres</i> and started at a smart trot
+for the Palace. Cara pointed downward with one tremulous finger. Benton
+nodded.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Safe," he said, but without enthusiasm.</p>
+
+<p>"I must go." Cara started down the path and the man walked beside her as
+far as the battered gate which hung awry from its broken columns. Over
+it now clambered masses of vine richly purple with bougonvillea. She
+broke off a branch and handed it to him. "Purple," she said again, "is
+the color of mourning and royalty."</p>
+
+<p>Blanco noted the coming of evening and realized that it would be well to
+reach the level of the city before dark. He knew that if Lapas was to be
+turned over to Karyl's authorities, steps to that end should be taken
+before he was discovered and released by those of his own faction. He
+accordingly made his way back to the gate.</p>
+
+<p>Benton was still standing, looking down the alley-way which ran between
+the half ruined lines of masonry. His shoulders unconsciously sagged.</p>
+
+<p>The Spaniard approached quietly and stood for a moment unwilling to
+interrupt, then in a low voice touched with that affectionate note which
+men are not ashamed to show even to other men in the Latin countries, he
+said: "<i>Se&ntilde;or</i> Benton!"</p>
+
+<p>The American turned and put out his hand, grasping that of the
+<i>toreador</i>. His grip said what his lips left unworded.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Dios mio!</i>" exclaimed Blanco with a black scowl.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> "We saved the King,
+but we bought his life and his throne too high! He cost too dear!"</p>
+
+<p>"Blanco," Benton spoke with difficulty, "I have brought you with me and
+you have asked no questions. The story is not mine to tell."</p>
+
+<p>The Andalusian raised a hand in protestation.</p>
+
+<p>"It is not necessary that you tell me anything, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>. I have seen
+enough. And I know the King was not worth the price."</p>
+
+<p>Benton shook his head. "Are you going on with me, now that you know what
+you know?"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Se&ntilde;or</i>, it grieves me that you should ask. I told you I was at your
+disposition." The Spaniard went on talking rapidly, talking with lips
+and eyes and gesture. "When you came to Cadiz and took me with you on
+the small steamer, I did not ask why. I thought it was as Americans are
+interested in all things&mdash;or perhaps because the many million <i>pesetas</i>
+of the <i>Se&ntilde;or's</i> fortune might be affected by changing the map of
+Europe. No matter. You were interested. It was enough."</p>
+
+<p>He swept both hands apart.</p>
+
+<p>"But had I known then what to-day has taught me, I should have held my
+tongue that evening when the Pretender plotted in the caf&eacute;."</p>
+
+<p>"To-morrow," said Benton slowly, "there will be festivity. I can't be
+here then. I must leave to-night<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>&mdash;but you, <i>amigo mio</i>, you must stay
+and watch. If Lapas is taken prisoner and silenced there will be no one
+in Puntal who will suspect you. No one knew me and if I leave at once,
+the Countess will hardly learn who was the mysterious man to whom she
+gave a ring."</p>
+
+<p>"But, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>,"&mdash;Blanco was dubious&mdash;"would it not be better that I
+should be with you?"</p>
+
+<p>"You can serve me better by remaining here. I would rather have you near
+Her."</p>
+
+<p>The man from Cadiz nodded and crossed himself.</p>
+
+<p>"I am pledged, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>," he asserted.</p>
+
+<p>"Then," continued the American, "for a time we must separate. The <i>Isis</i>
+will sail to-night."</p>
+
+<p>The men walked together to the terminal station of the small ratchet
+railway. When they parted the Spaniard and the yachtsman had arranged a
+telegraph code which might be used by the small but complete wireless
+equipment of the <i>Isis</i>. An hour later the launch from the yacht took
+him aboard at the ancient stone jetty, where the fruit-venders and
+wine-sellers shouted their jargon, and the seaweed clung to the landing
+stage.</p>
+
+<hr class='smler' />
+
+<p>When Karyl had returned to the Palace after the inspection of the
+Fortress <i>do Freres</i>, he had sent word at once to that part of the
+Palace where Cara had her suite. She was accompanied by her aunt, the
+Duchess of Apsberg, and her English cousin, Lilian Carrowes,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> who also
+knew something of the life in America with the Bristows.</p>
+
+<p>The King craved an interview. He had not seen her since morning and his
+request conveyed the desolation occasioned by the long interval of empty
+time.</p>
+
+<p>The girl, who in the more informal phases had consistently defied the
+Court etiquette, sent an affirmative reply, and Karyl, still in uniform
+and dust-stained, came at once to the rooms where she was to receive
+him.</p>
+
+<p>There was much to talk of, and the King came forward eagerly, but the
+girl halted his protestations and rapidly sketched for him the summary
+of all she had learned that afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>With growing astonishment Karyl listened, then slowly his brows came
+together in a frown.</p>
+
+<p>It was distasteful to him beyond expression to feel that he owed his
+life and throne to Benton, but of that he said nothing. Lapas had been,
+in the days of his childhood, his playmate. He had been the recipient of
+every possible favor, and Karyl, himself ingenuous and loyal to his
+friends, felt with double bitterness that not only had his enemy saved
+him, but, too, his friend had betrayed him.</p>
+
+<p>Then came a hurried message from Von Ritz, who begged to see the King at
+once. The soldier must have been only a step behind his messenger, for
+hardly had his admittance been ordered when he appeared.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The officer looked from the King to the Princess, and his eyes
+telegraphed a request for a moment of private audience.</p>
+
+<p>"You may as well speak here," said Karyl dryly. "Her Highness knows what
+you are about to say."</p>
+
+<p>"Lieutenant Lapas," began Von Ritz imperturbably, "has not been seen at
+the Palace to-day. His duties required his presence this evening. He was
+to be near Your Majesty at the coronation to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>"Where is he?" demanded the King.</p>
+
+<p>"That is what I should like to know," replied Von Ritz. "I learn that
+last night the Count Borttorff was in Puntal and that Lapas was with
+him. To-day the Countess Astaride left Puntal, greatly agitated. I am
+informed that from her window she watched <i>do Freres</i> with glasses
+during Your Majesty's visit there, and that when you left she swooned.
+Within ten minutes she was on her way to the quay and boarded the
+out-going steamer for Villefranche. These things may spell grave
+danger."</p>
+
+<p>So rarely had Karyl been able to anticipate Von Ritz in even the
+smallest matter that now, despite his own chagrin, he could not repress
+a cynical smile as he inquired: "What do you make of it?"</p>
+
+<p>Von Ritz shook his head. "I shall report to Your Majesty within an
+hour," he responded.</p>
+
+<p>"That is not necessary," Karyl spoke coolly. "You<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> will, I am informed,
+find Lieutenant Lapas bound to a telescope at the Rock. You will find
+the explosives at <i>do Freres</i> connected with a percussion cap which was
+to have been touched while we were there this afternoon. The Countess
+was disappointed because the percussion cap was not exploded. Sometimes,
+when ladies are bitterly grieved, they swoon."</p>
+
+<p>For a moment the older man studied the younger with an expression of
+surprise, then the sphinx-like gravity returned to his face.</p>
+
+<p>"Your Majesty, may I inquire why the cap failed to explode?" he asked,
+with pardonable curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>"Because"&mdash;Karyl's cheeks flushed hotly&mdash;"an American gentleman, who had
+been here a few hours, intercepted the signal&mdash;and reversed it."</p>
+
+<p>For an instant Von Ritz looked fixedly into the face of the King, then
+he bowed.</p>
+
+<p>"In that case," he commented, "there are various things to be done."</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+
+<h3>COUNTESS AND CABINET NOIR JOIN FORCES</h3>
+
+<p>When Monsieur Fran&ccedil;ois Jusseret, the cleverest unattached ambassador of
+France's <i>Cabinet Noir</i>, had first met the Countess Astaride, his
+sardonic eyes had twinkled dry appreciation.</p>
+
+<p>This meeting had seemed to be the result of a chance introduction. It
+had in reality been carefully designed by the French manipulator of
+underground wires. Louis Delgado he already knew, and held in contempt,
+yet Louis was the only possible instrument for use in converting certain
+vague possibilities into definite realities. Changing the nebulous into
+the concrete; shifting the dotted line of a frontier from here to there
+on a map; changing the likeness that adorned a coin or postage-stamp:
+these were things to which Monsieur Jusseret lent himself with the same
+zest that actuates the hunting dog and makes his work also his passion.</p>
+
+<p>If the vacillation of Louis Delgado could be complemented by the strong
+ambition of a woman, perhaps he might be almost as serviceable as though
+the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> strength were inherent. And Paris knew that Louis worshiped at the
+shrine of the Countess Astaride. The Countess was therefore worth
+inspecting.</p>
+
+<p>The presentation occurred in Paris, when the Duke took his acquaintance
+to the charming apartments overlooking the Arc de Triomphe, where the
+lady poured tea for a small <i>salon</i> enlisted from that colony of
+ambitious and broken-hearted men and women who hold fanatically to the
+faith that some throne, occupied by another, should be their own. Here
+with ceremony and stately etiquette foregathered Carlists and
+Bonapartists and exiled Dictators from South America. Here one heard the
+gossip of large conspiracies that come to nothing; of revolutions that
+go no farther than talk.</p>
+
+<p>In Paris the Duke Louis Delgado was nursing, with lukewarm indignation,
+wrath against his royal uncle of Galavia who had fixed upon him a sort
+of modified exile.</p>
+
+<p>Louis had only a languid interest in the feud between his arm of the
+family and the reigning branch. He would willingly enough have taken a
+scepter from the hand of any King-maker who proffered it, but he would
+certainly never, of his own incentive, have struck a blow for a throne.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes, indeed, as he sat at a caf&eacute; table on the <i>Champs Elys&eacute;es</i>
+when awakening dreams of Spring<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> were in the air and a military band was
+playing in the distance, dormant ambitions awoke. Sometimes when he
+watched the opalescent gleam in his glass as the gar&ccedil;on carefully
+dripped water over absinthe, he would picture himself wresting from the
+incumbent, the Crown of Galavia, and would hear throngs shouting "Long
+live King Louis!" At such moments his stimulated spirit would indulge in
+large visions, and his half-degenerate face would smile through its
+gentle but dissipated languor.</p>
+
+<p>Louis Delgado was a man of inaction. He had that quality of personal
+daring which is not akin to moral resoluteness. He was ready enough at a
+fancied insult to exchange cards and meet his adversary on the field,
+but a throne against which he plotted was as safe, unless threatened by
+outside influences, as a throne may ever be.</p>
+
+<p>When Louis presented Jusseret to the Countess Astaride there flashed
+between the woman of audacious imagination and the master of intrigue a
+message of kinship. The Frenchman bent low over her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"That hand, Madame," he had whispered, "was made to wield a scepter."</p>
+
+<p>The Countess had laughed with the melodious zylophone note that caressed
+the ear, and had flashed on Jusseret her smile which was a magic thing
+of ivory and flesh and sudden sunshine. She had held up the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> slender
+fingers of the hand he had flattered, possibly a trace pleased with the
+effect of the Duke's latest gift, a huge emerald set about with small
+but remarkably pure brilliants. She had contemplated it, critically, and
+after a brief silence had let her eyes wander from its jewels to the
+Frenchman's face.</p>
+
+<p>"Wielding a scepter, Monsieur," she had suggested smilingly, "is less
+difficult than seizing a scepter. I fear I should need a stronger hand."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, but Madame," the Frenchman had hastened to protest, "these are the
+days of the deft finger and the deft brain. Even crowns to-day are not
+won in tug-of-war."</p>
+
+<p>The woman had looked at him half-seriously, half-challengingly.</p>
+
+<p>"I am told, Monsieur Jusseret," she said, "that no government in Europe
+has a secret which you do not know. I am told that you have changed a
+crown or two from head to head in your career. Let me see <i>your</i> hand."</p>
+
+<p>Instantly he had held it out. The fastidiously manicured fingers were as
+tapering and white as her own.</p>
+
+<p>"Madame," he observed gravely, "you flatter me. My hand has done
+nothing. But I do not attribute its failure to its lack of brawn."</p>
+
+<p>"Some day," murmured Delgado, from his inert posture in the deep
+cushions of a divan, "when the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> time is ripe, I shall strike a decisive
+blow for the Throne of Galavia."</p>
+
+<p>Jusseret's lip had half-curled, then swiftly he had turned and flashed a
+look of inquiry upon the woman. Her eyes had been on Louis and she had
+not caught the quick glint that came into the Frenchman's pupils, or the
+thoughtful regard with which he studied her and the Duke across the edge
+of his teacup. Later, when he rose to make his adieux, she noted the
+thoughtful expression on his face.</p>
+
+<p>"Sometimes," he had said enigmatically, and had paused to allow his
+meaning to sink in, "sometimes a scepter stays where it is, not because
+the hand that holds it is strong, but because the outstretched hand is
+weak or inept. Your hand is suited."</p>
+
+<p>She had searched his eyes with her own just long enough to make him feel
+that in the give-and-take of glances hers did not drop or evade, and he,
+trained in the niceties of diplomatic warfare, had caught the message.</p>
+
+<p>So the Countess had been fired with ardent dreams and later, when the
+time seemed ripe, it was to her that Jusseret went, and with her that he
+made his secret alliance.</p>
+
+<p>The ambitions cherished by Marie Astaride to become Louis' queen were
+secondary to a sincere devotion for Louis himself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>When at the last he had weakened and threatened to crumple, it was she
+who goaded him back to resolution. When the Duke had gone half-heartedly
+to his lodge to await the decision of the European Powers, it was she
+who went to Puntal to direct the conspirators and watch, from the
+windows of her hotel suite, the fortress on the jetty.</p>
+
+<p>Her one deplorable error had been in mistaking Benton for Martin. This
+had been natural enough. Though she had never met the "English Jackal,"
+she had once or twice seen him at a distance, and she had been misled by
+a strong resemblance and an excessive eagerness.</p>
+
+<p>The afternoon she had spent on the balcony of her suite, her eyes fixed
+on the Fortress <i>do Freres</i>.</p>
+
+<p>At last, with a wildly beating heart she had seen the King, Von Ritz and
+the escort ride up to the entrance and disappear. She had
+waited&mdash;waited&mdash;waited, her nerves set for the climax, until the
+continued silence seemed an unendurable shock.</p>
+
+<p>Then the King and escort emerged. She, sitting pale and rigid, saw them
+mount and turn back unharmed toward the city. Her ears, eagerly set for
+the detonation which should shake the town and reverberate along the
+mountain sides, ached with the emptiness of silence.</p>
+
+<p>Across the street a soldier, off duty and in civilian<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> clothes, sat on
+the sea-wall and whittled. Incidentally he noticed that Madame the
+Countess was interested beyond the usual in some matter. He was there to
+notice Madame the Countess. His instructions from Von Ritz had been to
+keep a record of her goings and comings, and who came to see her or went
+away.</p>
+
+<p>Therefore, when the King and his small retinue had trotted past the
+window and when Madame the Countess rose to go in, and when just as she
+crossed the low sill of the window she suddenly caught up both hands to
+her throat and fell heavily to the floor, the soldier, whittling a small
+crucifix, made a record of that also. When a moment later a gentleman
+whom he had not seen in Puntal for months, but whom he knew as the Count
+Borttorff, because that gentleman had formerly been Major of his
+battalion, hurriedly left a closed carriage and entered the place, the
+incident was noted. When still later both Borttorff and the Countess
+emerged and re&euml;ntered the conveyance, driving rapidly away, he likewise
+noted these things. Going from the pier whither he had followed the
+closed carriage, he reported his observations with soldierly dispatch to
+Colonel Von Ritz.</p>
+
+<p>The Grand Duke Louis meanwhile, waiting in great anxiety, had received
+the message which had come by the wireless mast. The words were in code,
+and being translated they read: "France, Italy, Spain, Portu<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>gal will
+recognize. Strike." The signature was "Jt.," which Delgado knew for
+Jusseret. The Duke had been greatly excited. He paced the room in a
+nervous tremor. It was arranged that a small steamer, which had stood a
+short distance offshore since yesterday to relay the wireless message
+and make it doubly sure, should pick the Duke up as soon as Lapas
+signaled by a triple dip of the flag that the fortress had been
+destroyed. The steamer was then to rush the Grand Duke around the cape
+to Puntal, bringing him in as though he had come from Spain. Those
+conspirators who were in the capital, strengthened by those who would
+declare for Louis, with Karyl dead and no other heir existent, would
+proclaim him King. Lapas would see that the royal salute was fired as
+the steamer entered the harbor, and the Countess would either meet him
+and explain all the details or would speak with him by Marconi if she
+had left the town.</p>
+
+<p>Louis spent the forenoon in an agony of anxiety and impatience. All
+afternoon he watched through binoculars the white and blue and green
+flag on the rock above him. He was waiting for the triple dip that
+should tell him the fortress had been scattered in d&eacute;bris and with it
+the government. Evidently the King was late going to the arsenal.</p>
+
+<p>He had imagined it would be earlier. The hours dragged interminably.
+Louis walked the stone buttress<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> where the flag which he had raised in
+signal to Lapas flapped and whipped against its staff. At last his
+binoculars, fixed on the rock, caught the dip of the colors there. With
+a great sigh of relief the Duke watched to see them rise and dip, rise
+and dip again. The flag came down the length of the pole&mdash;and did not go
+up.</p>
+
+<p>Panic seized the Pretender. There was no way of talking with the ridge
+three thousand feet above. It was a climb of an hour and a half by the
+pass. Evidently there had been a miscarriage. In the prearranged code of
+flag signals the only provision for the drooping of the colors on the
+hill was in the event that it should be wished to stop the explosion.
+That would be only in the event of refusal by the governments to
+recognize; the governments had not refused! Possibly Lapas had turned
+traitor!</p>
+
+<p>There had also been some unexplained delay seaward. The little steamer,
+which should have remained near by, was a speck on the horizon, and
+without her there was no possibility of escape. Wildly Louis, the
+Dreamer, hurried to his improvised Marconi station and called the ship.
+Finally toward evening came a response and with it a message from
+somewhere out at sea, relayed from ship to ship around the peninsula.</p>
+
+<p>The message said simply in code: "Failure.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> Make your escape." It was
+signed "M. A."&mdash;Marie Astaride.</p>
+
+<p>Louis rushed, panic-stricken, down to the shore. He and the few men with
+him paced the beach in the settling twilight with desperate anxiety. The
+steamer seemed to creep in, snail-like, over the smooth water. Meanwhile
+binoculars fixed on the pass showed a number of small specks sifting
+like ants through the lofty opening. Troops were advancing. It was now
+the life-and-death question of which would arrive first, the boats from
+the ship that had stood off at sea a bit too long, or the soldiers
+coming across the broken backbone of the mountains.</p>
+
+<p>At last the ship had drawn near, and circled under full steam far enough
+out to get away to a flying start as soon as the Ducal party had been
+taken on board. Small boats were rushed toward the beach and Louis, the
+Dreamer, with his party waded knee-deep into the water to meet the
+rescuers.</p>
+
+<p>At the same moment a bugle call announced the coming of Karyl's
+soldiery.</p>
+
+<p>As Louis Delgado went over the side, he turned quickly back and, leaning
+over the rail, gazed through the settling darkness toward shore.</p>
+
+<p>"Do we make for Puntal, Your Majesty?" inquired the captain, saluting.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Louis turned coldly. "No."</p>
+
+<p>The officer looked at the Duke for a moment and read defeat in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Where then&mdash;Your Grace?" he inquired.</p>
+
+<p>Louis winced under the quick amendment of title. "Anywhere," he said
+shortly; "anywhere&mdash;except Puntal."</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2>
+
+<h3>THE TOREADOR BECOMES AMBASSADOR</h3>
+
+<p>Manuel Blanco was ubiquitous during the first days following the
+coronation. He listened to the fragments of talk that drifted along the
+streets. He frequented the band concerts in the Public Gardens and drank
+native vintages in the wine-shops. He elbowed his way na&iuml;vely into
+chattering groups with his ears primed for a careless word. Nowhere did
+he catch a note hinting of intrigue or danger. It seemed a sound
+conclusion that if the plotters had not entirely surrendered their
+project for switching Kings in Galavia, their conspiracies were being
+once more fomented on foreign soil, just as the first plan had been
+incubated in Cadiz.</p>
+
+<p>One evening shortly after the dual celebration, a steamer laden with
+tourists lay at anchor in the bay, outlined in points of light like a
+set-piece of fireworks. Hundreds of new sight-seeing faces swarmed along
+the narrow, cobbled streets. This would be a great night in the
+Strangers' Club and Blanco decided to spend an hour there.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>In evening dress he moved through the gardens and pavilions of the
+casino on the rock, where with the coming of darkness the gayety of the
+town began to focus and sparkle.</p>
+
+<p>The coronation of Karyl had brought to an end official mourning for the
+late King, and the cr&ecirc;pe which had palled the national insignia on all
+public buildings had been cleared away. With this restoration of public
+gayety came a liberal sprinkling of uniforms to the throngs that crowded
+the ball-rooms, tea-gardens and gambling halls.</p>
+
+<p>Blanco was standing apart, looking on, when he felt a light touch on his
+shoulder and turned to find a young officer at his back who smilingly
+begged him for a moment in the gardens. The Spaniard noticed that the
+man who addressed him wore the epaulettes of a Captain of Infantry and
+the added stripe and crown of gold lace at the cuff which designated
+service in the household of the reigning family.</p>
+
+<p>He turned and accompanied the officer through the wide door into the
+lantern-hung grounds, passing between the groups which clustered
+everywhere about small wicker tea-tables. There were no quiet or
+secluded spots in the gardens of the Strangers' Club to-night, but after
+a brief glance right and left the Captain led the way to a table in a
+shadowed niche between two doors. The light there was more shadowed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> and
+the tides of promenaders did not crowd so close upon it as elsewhere. As
+the two came up a third man rose from this table and Manuel found
+himself looking into the flinty eyes of Colonel Von Ritz.</p>
+
+<p>Von Ritz spoke briefly. If <i>Se&ntilde;or</i> Blanco could spare the time, His
+Majesty wished to speak with him.</p>
+
+<p>The younger officer turned back into the casino and Von Ritz led the
+<i>toreador</i> through the front gardens, where the tennis courts lay bare
+between the palms. The acacias and sycamores were soft, dark spots
+against the far-flung procession of the stars.</p>
+
+<p>The street outside was crowded with fiacres and cabs. Von Ritz signaled
+to a footman and in a moment more Blanco and his escort had stepped into
+a closed carriage and were being driven toward the Palace. They entered
+by a side passage and the Colonel conducted him through several halls
+and chambers filled with uniformed officers, and finally into a more
+remote part of the building where they met only an occasional servant.
+At last they came into a great room entirely empty but for themselves.
+About the walls hung ripened portraits. The decorations were of
+Arabesque mosaics with fantastic panels of Moorish tiling. It might have
+been a grandee's house in Seville, patterned on the Alcazar. Evidently
+this was part of a private suite. Heavy porti&egrave;res were only partly drawn
+across a wide window with the sill at the floor level, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> through them
+Blanco dimly saw a balcony giving out over a small garden, and
+commanding more distantly the harbor and town lights below. From
+somewhere in the garden came the splashing of a small fountain.</p>
+
+<p>Here Von Ritz left his charge to himself, silently departing with a bow.
+For a while the Spaniard remained alone. The room was not so brightly
+illuminated as many through which he had come on his way across the
+Palace. Light filtered through swinging lamps of wrought metal encrusted
+with prisms of green and amber and garnet. The Moorish scheme depends in
+part upon its shadows. Finally a gentleman entered from a balcony. He
+was neither in uniform nor in evening dress. His face was smooth-shaven
+and pleasing.</p>
+
+<p>Blanco fancied this was a secretary or attendant of some sort, and was
+conscious of slight surprise that as he entered the place he smoked a
+cigarette with a freedom scarcely fitting the King's personal chambers.
+At the window the gentleman halted and looked Blanco over with a frank
+but not offensive curiosity. Manuel returned the gaze, wondering where
+he had seen the face before, yet unable to identify it. Then the
+newcomer crossed and proffered the Spaniard a cigarette from a gold
+case, which the <i>toreador</i> declined with a shake of his head.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"<i>Gracias, Se&ntilde;or</i>," he said, "but I am waiting for the King."</p>
+
+<p>The other smiled, and the visitor noticed that even in smiling his lips
+fell into lines of sadness.</p>
+
+<p>"None the less," he said pleasantly, "a man may as well have the solace
+of tobacco while he waits&mdash;even though he awaits a King."</p>
+
+<p>The Andalusian once more shook his head, and the other continued to
+study him with that undisguised interest which his eyes had worn from
+the first.</p>
+
+<p>"So you are one of the two men," he said, "who learned what all the
+secret agents of the Throne failed to unearth. Incidentally it is to you
+that the present King owes not only his Crown, but his life as well." He
+paused.</p>
+
+<p>"After all," he went on, "it is neither your fault nor Mr. Benton's that
+the King could have done very well without either the Crown or his life.
+You restored something which perhaps he held worthless.... But that is
+his own misfortune."</p>
+
+<p>Blanco's expressive face mirrored a shade of resentment. He had come on
+summons from the King and found himself listening to the familiar, even
+disrespectful, chatter of some underling who laughed at his Monarch and
+lightly appraised the value of his life while he smoked cigarettes in
+the Royal apartments. The Spaniard bowed stiffly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I observe you are in the confidence of the King," he said, in a tone
+not untouched with disapproval.</p>
+
+<p>The other man's lips curled in amusement. After a moment he replied with
+simple gravity.</p>
+
+<p>"I am the King."</p>
+
+<p>Blanco stood gazing in astonishment. "You&mdash;the King!" Then, recognizing
+that the shaving of a mustache and the change into civilian clothes had
+made the difference in a face and figure he had seen only on the streets
+and through shifting crowds, he bowed with belated deference.</p>
+
+<p>Karyl once more held out his case. "Now perhaps you will have a
+cigarette?"</p>
+
+<p>The <i>toreador</i> took one and lighted it slowly. The King went on.</p>
+
+<p>"My sole pleasure is pretending that I am not a Monarch. Between
+ourselves, I should prefer other employment. You, for example, I am told
+have won fame in the bull ring&mdash;and it was fame you earned for
+yourself."</p>
+
+<p>Blanco flushed, then, bethinking himself of the fact that he had been
+brought here presumably with a purpose, he ventured to suggest: "Your
+Majesty wished to see me about some matter?"</p>
+
+<p>The other shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said slowly, "it was not really I who sent for you. It was Her
+Majesty, the Queen."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Before he had time for response the <i>toreador</i> caught the sound of a
+shaken curtain behind him, but since he stood facing the King he did not
+turn.</p>
+
+<p>Karyl, however, looked up, and then swiftly crossed the room. As he
+passed, Blanco wheeled to face him and was in time to see him holding
+back the porti&egrave;res of a door for the Queen to enter.</p>
+
+<p>She was gowned in black with the sparkle of passementerie and jet, and
+at her breast she wore a single red rose. As she stood for a moment on
+the threshold, despite the majesty of her slender poise it appeared to
+Blanco that her grace was rather that of something wild and free and
+that the Palace seemed to cage her. But that may have been because, as
+she paused, her hands went to her breast and a furrow came between her
+brows, while the corners of her lips drooped wistfully like a child's.</p>
+
+<p>The King stooped to kiss her hand, and she turned toward him with a
+smile which was pallid and which did not dissipate the unhappiness of
+her face. Then Karyl straightened and said to Blanco, who felt himself
+suddenly grow awkward as a muleteer: "The Queen."</p>
+
+<p>Manuel dropped on one knee. At a gesture from Cara he rose and waited
+for her to speak. Karyl himself halted at the door for a moment, then
+came slowly back into the room. He picked up from a tabouret<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> a
+decoration of the Star of Galavia, and, crossing over, pinned it to the
+Spaniard's lapel.</p>
+
+<p>"There!" he said, with a good-humored laugh. "You made me a somewhat
+valueless present a few days back. You will find that equally useless,
+Sir Manuel. You may tell Mr. Benton that I envy him such an ally."</p>
+
+<p>With a bow to the Queen, the King left the apartment.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment the girl stood at the door, with the same expression and
+the same silence, unbroken by her since her entrance, then she turned to
+the Spaniard and spoke directly. Her voice held a tremor.</p>
+
+<p>"How is he?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have not seen him since the day on the mountain," returned Manuel.</p>
+
+<p>"He has, in you, a very true friend."</p>
+
+<p>"Your Majesty, I am his servant," deprecated the toreador.</p>
+
+<p>"If I had friends like you," she smiled, "it would matter little what
+they called themselves. And yet, if there is but one like you, I had
+rather that that one be with him. I want you to go to him now and remain
+with him."</p>
+
+<p>"Your Majesty, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i> Benton left me here to watch for recurring
+dangers. I am now satisfied that noth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span>ing threatens, at least for the
+present. I might, as Your Majesty suggests, better be with him."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;yes&mdash;with him!" she eagerly agreed; then her voice took on the
+timbre of anxiety. "I am afraid. Sometimes I am afraid for him. He is
+not a coward, but there are times when we all become weak. I appoint
+you, Sir Manuel&mdash;" the girl smiled wanly&mdash;"I appoint you my Ambassador
+to be with him and watch after him&mdash;and, Sir Manuel&mdash;" her voice shook a
+little with very deep feeling&mdash;"I am giving you the office I had rather
+have than all the thrones in Christendom! Will you accept it?"</p>
+
+<p>She held out her hand, and taking it reverently in his own, the
+Andalusian bowed low over it. He did not kneel, for now he was the
+Ambassador in the presence of his Sovereign. "With all the Saints for my
+witnesses," he declared fervently, "I swear it to Your Majesty."</p>
+
+<p>There was gratitude in her eyes as they met the whole-heartedness of the
+pledge in his. For a moment she seemed unable to speak, though there was
+no dimness of tear-mist in her pupils. She stood very upright and
+silent, and her breathing was deep. Then slowly her hands came up and
+loosened the flower at her breast.</p>
+
+<p>"The King has decorated you, Sir Manuel," she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> said. "I don't think Mr.
+Benton would care for knighthood&mdash;and I could not confer it&mdash;but
+sometime&mdash;not now&mdash;some day after you have both departed from Galavia,
+give him this. Tell him it may have a message which I may not put in
+words. If he can read the heart of a rose deeply enough, perhaps he can
+find it there."</p>
+
+<p>When Blanco had carefully folded the emblem of his embassy in paper and
+deposited it in his breast pocket, she gave him her hand again, and,
+turning, went out through the same door that she had entered.</p>
+
+<p>Back in the town, Blanco had certain investigations to make. He knew Von
+Ritz's men had been too late to capture the Duke, and that the Countess
+Astaride had sailed by the steamer leaving for French and Italian ports.
+Wherever these two conspirators should meet would become the next point
+to watch.</p>
+
+<p>Blanco felt sure that Louis would be willing to drop back into the
+routine of his life in Paris, freshly stocked with pessimistic memories
+of how a crown had slipped through his fingers. It would take driving to
+prevent him lagging into the inertia of sentimental brooding. On the
+other hand, he knew that the Countess Astaride, having gone so far,
+would never again relinquish her ambitions. He knew the temper of the
+Countess's mind from various bits of gossip he had heard and now also
+from what he had seen. He knew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> that, while she was entirely willing to
+participate in a murder plot to further her designs, she was not fired
+solely by a lust for power. More deeply she was actuated by her wish to
+make Louis Delgado a man of potentiality because she loved Louis
+Delgado.</p>
+
+<p>That love might evidence itself in savagery toward men who obstructed
+the road which her lover must travel to a crown, but it was a ferocity
+born of love for the Pretender.</p>
+
+<p>Since this was true it was not probable that she would allow the matter
+to end where it stood. Even if she were willing, it was more than
+certain that Jusseret had not entered into the undertaking without some
+sufficient end in view. Having entered it, he would not relinquish it
+because the first attempt had been bungled.</p>
+
+<p>That same night Manuel sent a message to the <i>Isis</i>, saying that he was
+sailing the following morning by the Genoa steamer and asking that the
+yacht meet the ship and take him on board. Having done that much, he
+went to the hotel where the Countess had stopped and told the clerk that
+he had news of importance to communicate to Madame the Countess, and
+that he wished to learn her present address. The clerk, like all Puntal,
+was ignorant of what important matters had just missed happening, but he
+had instructions from this lady to assume ignorance as to her
+destination. Blanco, however, showed the seal ring which she had said
+would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> prove a passport to her presence and which Benton had left with
+him. He was promptly informed that she had taken passage for
+Villefranche, and had ordered her mail forwarded there in care of the
+steamship agency.</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
+
+<h3>THE AMBASSADOR BECOMES ADMIRAL</h3>
+
+<p>More suggestive of a stowaway than a millionaire, thought Blanco the
+following afternoon, when he had come over the side of the <i>Isis</i> and
+sought out the owner of the yacht. Benton had turned hermit and
+withdrawn to the most isolated space the vessel provided. It was really
+not a deck at all&mdash;only a space between engine-room grating and
+tarpaulined lifeboats on what was properly the cabin roof. Here, removed
+from the burnished and ship-shape perfection of the yacht's appointment,
+he lay carelessly shaven and more carelessly dressed.</p>
+
+<p>The lazily undulating Mediterranean stretched unbroken save for the
+yacht's stack, funnels and stanchions, in a sight-wide radius of blue.
+Overhead the sky was serene. Here and there, in fitful humors, the sea
+flowed in rifts of a different hue.</p>
+
+<p>The sun was mellow and the breeze which purred softly in the cables
+overhead came with the caressing breath that blows off the orange groves
+of Southern Spain. Ahead lay all the invitation of the south of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> France;
+of the Riviera's white cities and vivid countryside; of Monte Carlo's
+casinos and Italy's villas. Beyond further horizons, waited the charm of
+Greece, but the man lay on an old army blanket, clad in bagging flannels
+and a blue army shirt open at the throat. His arms were crossed above
+his eyes, and he was motionless, except that the fingers which gripped
+his elbows sometimes clenched themselves and the bare throat above the
+open collar occasionally worked spasmodically.</p>
+
+<p>Blanco had come quietly, and his canvas shoes had made no sound. For a
+time he did not announce himself. He was not sure that Benton was awake,
+so he dropped noiselessly to the deck and sat with his hands clasped
+about his knees, his eyes moodily measuring the rise and fall of the
+glaringly white stanchions above and below the sky-line. At frequent
+intervals they swept back to the other man, who still lay motionless. It
+was late afternoon and the smoke-stack shadows pointed off in attenuated
+lines to the bow while the sky, off behind the wake, brightened into the
+colors of sunset. Finally Benton rose. The unexpected sight of Blanco
+brought a start and an immediate masking of his face, but in the first
+momentary glimpse the Andalusian caught a haggard distress which
+frightened him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I didn't know you had come," said Benton quietly. "How long have you
+been here?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should say a half-hour, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>," replied Manuel, casually rolling a
+cigarette.</p>
+
+<p>"Why didn't you rouse me? I'm not very amusing, but even I could have
+relieved the dullness of sitting there like a marooned man on a
+derelict."</p>
+
+<p>"Dullness?" inquired the <i>toreador</i> with a lazy lift of the brows. "It
+is ease, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>, and ease is desirable&mdash;at sea."</p>
+
+<p>The American sat cross-legged on the deck and held out his hand for a
+cigarette. When he asked a question he spoke in matter-of-fact tones. He
+even laughed, and the Andalusian chatted on in kind, but secretly and
+narrowly he was watching the other, and when he had finished his
+scrutiny he told himself that Benton had been indulging in the dangerous
+pastime of brooding.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me&mdash;everything," urged the yacht-owner. "What are the
+revolutionists doing and how is&mdash;how are things?" Carefully he avoided
+directing any question to the point on which his eagerness for news was
+poignant hunger.</p>
+
+<p>When Blanco told how Louis had left Galavia just before the soldiers
+reached the lodge, Benton's face darkened. "That was fatal blundering,"
+he com<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>plained. "So long as Delgado is at large the Palace is menaced.
+If they had taken him, and held him under surveillance, the <i>Cabinet
+Noir</i> would be disarmed. Now they will try again."</p>
+
+<p>Blanco nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"There is no charge they can make against him," he mused. "They cannot
+bring him back because the government cannot admit its peril. Outwardly
+his bill of health is clean. Assuredly when they let him slip, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>,
+they committed a grave error."</p>
+
+<p>Benton rose and paced the deck in deep reflection. At last he halted and
+spread his hands in a gesture half-despairing.</p>
+
+<p>"My God!" he said in a low voice. "The anxiety will drive me mad! You
+saw their methods. An entire cort&eacute;ge was to be blown into the air&mdash;just
+to kill Karyl. Next time, what will they attempt?" He broke off with a
+shudder.</p>
+
+<p>"I have seen the Queen," said Blanco slowly.</p>
+
+<p>Benton wheeled. For an instant his face lighted, then he leaned forward.
+He said nothing, but his whole attitude was a question.</p>
+
+<p>"You behold in me, Sir Manuel Blanco," began the Andalusian grandly.
+Then, slipping his arm through that of the other man, he began leading
+him around the deck. When he had finished his narrative, he said: "I
+begin my office as Ambassador by delivering<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> this packet." From his
+pocket he produced the paper-wrapped rose. "I was instructed to give it
+to you at some future time. Possibly, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>, I am over-prompt. Lawyers
+and diplomats should be deliberate."</p>
+
+<p>The Mediterranean day had died slowly from east to west while the men
+had talked, and the last shred of glowing sky was darkening into the sea
+at the edge of the world astern, when Benton greedily thrust out his
+hand for the packet.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Gracias</i>," he said bluntly, and turning away went precipitously to his
+cabin.</p>
+
+<p>After dinner, when the Captain had betaken himself to the bridge and the
+smoke from the Spaniard's cigarettes and Benton's pipe had begun to
+wreathe clouds against the ceiling-beams, Blanco broached his diplomacy.</p>
+
+<p>In the dulled expressionlessness of the face opposite him and the stoop
+of the shoulders, Manuel read a need for an active antidote against the
+corrosive poison of despair.</p>
+
+<p>"Where are we going now, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>Benton shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"'<i>Quien sabe!</i>' as you say in Spain. We are simply cruising, drifting,
+keeping out of sight of land."</p>
+
+<p>"And drifting is the precise thing, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>, which we must not do. I
+have hitherto done without question<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> what you have said. Now I hold a
+new dignity." There was a momentary flash of teeth as he smiled. "As
+Ambassador, I make a request. May I be permitted to take entire control
+of affairs for a brief time? Also, will you for a few days obey <i>my</i>
+instructions, without question?"</p>
+
+<p>Benton looked across the table at the dark face half-obscured behind a
+blue fog of cigarette smoke. After a moment he smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"Admiral," he said, "issue your orders."</p>
+
+<p>"You will instruct the Captain," said Manuel promptly, "to head at once
+for Villefranche. There you, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>, will leave the yacht, and I will
+go with it to Monte Carlo. I wish to be as soon as possible in the
+casino where the drone of the <i>croupier</i> and the clink of outflowing
+<i>louis d'or</i> constitute the national refrain."</p>
+
+<p>Benton's eyes narrowed in perplexity. On his face was written curiosity,
+but he had agreed to ask no questions. He unhesitatingly put his finger
+on the electric bell.</p>
+
+<p>"Ask the Captain to come here as soon as he is at leisure," he directed
+when the steward had responded to the call.</p>
+
+<p>"Good," commended Blanco. Then with a sorrowful shake of his head he
+commiserated: "I am sorry that you are to be denied the excitement of
+the <i>rouge et noir</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> and the <i>trente et quarente</i> of the gold table,
+<i>Se&ntilde;or</i>, but if the Countess Astaride and Louis should meet there, the
+lady would know you. I fancy that she will not again mistake you for
+someone else. As for myself, neither of them yet knows me."</p>
+
+<p>"Are they at Monte Carlo?" Benton sat suddenly upright, and Blanco had
+the first reward of his diplomacy, as he noted the quickening interest
+in the questioning eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I am only guessing, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>. If the guess is good, I may learn
+something. What is in my mind, may fail. If you are willing to trust me
+I would rather not reveal it now."</p>
+
+<p>"And I?" questioned Benton. "Have I any part to play in this, or do you
+go it alone?"</p>
+
+<p>Blanco leaned forward.</p>
+
+<p>"It may be necessary to have someone near enough to the Palace in Puntal
+to insure immediate action&mdash;action to be taken on the instant.... You
+must return to the city, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>.... It will be for only a few days. The
+Grand Palace Hotel is above the town in large gardens.... If you choose
+you can remain there with your presence absolutely unknown, so far as
+the city proper is concerned. Also, the Marconi office has a station in
+the hotel grounds. With a code which we have yet to arrange, I can keep
+in touch with you...."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The next day Benton was a passenger by steamer from Villefranche to
+Puntal.</p>
+
+<p>The Grand Palace Hotel, dominating its own acres of subtropical gardens,
+looks down on the city as one seated on an eminence commands the common
+things at his feet. Between its grounds and the scalloped bay, run the
+huddled habitations of the town's water-front, with its delicately
+tinted walls and riotously colored gardens invading every crevice.</p>
+
+<p>Following the semicircle of the bay, the eye commands that other
+eminence where the King's Palace shuts itself in austerely at the very
+center of the arc. Through the clustered, tea-sipping loungers on the
+galleries and terraces Benton made his way several days later, wearing
+the studiously affected unconcern of the tourist; an unconcern which he
+found it desperately difficult to assume in Puntal.</p>
+
+<p>Driven by a growing and intense desire to put distance between himself
+and all alien humanity, he turned into a narrow, steeply climbing street
+which ran twisting between toy-houses and vine-cumbered garden-walls,
+until at last it lost its right to be called a street and became merely
+a narrow, trail-like path up the mountain-side. The wanderer climbed
+interminably. He took no thought of destination and satisfied himself
+with the physical exertion of the laborious going.</p>
+
+<p>His heart pounded faster as he attained the altitude<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> of the pine woods
+where he seemed to have left humanity behind him. Once or twice he saw a
+shy, half-wild child who fled from its task of gathering fagots at his
+approach, to gaze at him out of startled eyes from a safe distance.</p>
+
+<p>Occasionally he would stop to look down, from some coign of vantage, at
+cascading threads of water tumbling into the gorge below, or at a
+ch&acirc;let-like house perched far beneath in its trim patch of agriculture.
+Finally he stretched himself indolently on a carpet of pine needles at
+the brink of a drop to the valley. Then, with a sense of recognition, he
+saw the tumbled-down gate of the King's driveway below him to the left,
+and his face became set and miserable as memory began its work of
+tearing open wounds not yet old.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly there drifted up a chorus of children's laughter. He sat up
+suddenly and looked about, but no one was in sight. Again he heard an
+unmistakable peal of shrill, childish merriment, seemingly close at
+hand. He lay flat and looked over the ledge, holding on to a root of a
+gnarled pine that grew far out at the marge.</p>
+
+<p>Under him, not more than twenty yards below, on a similar natural
+platform, sat a circle of peasant children, their eyes large with
+wonderment and interest. In their center, also seated on the earth, was
+the Queen of Galavia. She was dressed in a short walking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> skirt and a
+blue jersey, and as the man gripped the pine root to which he held, and
+gazed over, she lifted an outstretched finger of a gauntleted hand in
+illustration of some particularly wonderful point of what was palpably a
+particularly wonderful fairy story. A third burst of delight came from
+the listening and responsive auditors, who had no idea by whom they were
+being entertained.</p>
+
+<p>The peasants of Galavia speak Portuguese. As Benton shifted his position
+so that he could eavesdrop without being discovered, he found that he
+could catch some of the words.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell us another story&mdash;" piped a high treble voice, "&mdash;a story about
+the beautiful Princess who married the King." The demand was seconded by
+an immediate clamor of eager voices.</p>
+
+<p>The girl rose unsteadily and shook her head. For a moment she stood
+looking off over the miles of sea with her hands at her breast and her
+eyes clouded, oblivious of the small companions of her truancy. She
+stretched out both strong young arms toward the Mediterranean.</p>
+
+<p>Then she heeded the children's clamor again and, turning to them, she
+laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no!" she teasingly answered, and the man above realized for the
+first time that Portuguese is a tongue of liquid music. "These are fairy
+stories with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>out Princesses. These are perfectly good fairy stories, you
+know." Then with a sudden burst of confidence, "In really-truly life,
+Princesses are not much good. Don't any of you ever be a Princess if you
+can help it!" After planting this seed of treasonable ideas she turned
+away, adding: "No, no, no! I've run away and I must go back. To-morrow
+we will have a wonderful story&mdash;but no more to-day."</p>
+
+<p>Slowly she made her way down to the old gate, stopping twice to look out
+to the sea, and above her, choking off the shout that clamored at his
+lips, the man sat motionless and gave no intimation of his presence.</p>
+
+<p>Finally he rose and made his way unsteadily back to the city. He walked
+slowly down between the wine-shops, noisy with laughter, to the road
+along the bay. Immersed in reflection and forgetful of his resolution to
+keep as much as possible out of sight, he went openly and conspicuously
+along the street that overhangs the water, where at sunset all Puntal
+promenades. It was only when a detachment of soldiers in the familiar
+opera-bouffe uniform went clanking by to change the guard at the Palace
+gates that he remembered he was to have remained inconspicuous. With a
+sense of chagrin for his indiscretion, he turned into a side street
+which sloped upward toward his hotel. This street was so little used
+that between its cobble stones tender sprigs of grass made the way as
+green as a turf course.</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2>
+
+<h3>BENTON CALLS ON THE KING</h3>
+
+<p>There were several things to harrow Benton's thoughts aside from the
+ingenious tortures of memory. Blanco should have arrived at Monte Carlo
+on the day of their separation. Benton himself had proceeded slowly to
+Puntal and had now been an isolated guest at the Grand Palace Hotel for
+two days, yet he had heard nothing from Manuel. Still the man from Cadiz
+had not been idly cruising. The <i>Isis</i> had duly dropped her anchor in
+the ultramarine waters where the rock of Monaco juts out like a
+beckoning finger, and Monte Carlo spreads the marble display of its
+rococo fa&ccedil;ades at the feet of the Maritime Alps.</p>
+
+<p>That night, in the most detailed perfection of evening dress, he
+wandered good-humoredly, yet aloof, through the crowds. He haunted the
+groups that swarmed about the busy wheels in the casino. He mingled with
+the diners upon the terraces of the principal hotels. He brushed elbows
+with the strollers along the promenade and about the <i>Cercle des
+Etrangers</i>, and all the while his studiously alert eyes wandered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> with
+seeming vacancy of expression over the faces of the men and women whom
+he passed.</p>
+
+<p>Safe in the surety of being himself unknown, he trained his countenance
+into the ennui of one who has no object beyond killing the hour and
+contributing his quota to the income of the syndicate.</p>
+
+<p>The evening was wasted, together with a few <i>louis</i>, and the next
+morning found the Spaniard scrutinizing every face along the <i>Promenade
+des Anglais</i> at Nice. Then he searched Cannes and Mentone, but by
+evening he was back again in the sacred City of Black and Red.</p>
+
+<p>As he disembarked from the yacht's launch and came up the white stairs
+to the landing-stage, his eyes were still indolently wandering, but
+before he reached the level of the <i>Boulevard de la Condamine</i>, the
+expression changed with the suddenness of discovery into a glint almost
+triumphant. It was only with strong effort that he banished the
+satisfied light from his pupils and forced them to wander absently
+again, along the glitter and color of the palm-lined promenade.</p>
+
+<p>For Manuel had seen a slender, well-groomed figure leaning on the coping
+of the sea-wall and gazing out with obvious amusement on the life of the
+harbor. Although the Spaniard did not allow himself a second glance, he
+knew that his search was ended. The attention of the man above was
+dreamily fixed on the bay<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> where a dozen darting motor-boats cut swift
+courses hither and thither. His attitude was graceful. His bearing might
+have been almost noble except for a deplorable lack of frankness which
+spoiled otherwise fine eyes, and a self-indulgent weakness which marred
+the angle of the chin.</p>
+
+<p>The Bay at Monte Carlo is a haven for luxurious craft. Now the Prince of
+Monaco's yacht lay at anchor and several others, hardly less handsome,
+rode snugly offshore, but with the enthusiasm of a connoisseur the tall
+gentleman disregarded all the rest and let his admiring gaze dwell on
+the <i>Isis</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The face was studiously altered. Where there had been a full mustache
+there was now only a thinly clipped line, waxed and uptilting in needle
+points. It had been dark brown. Now it was black. The hair formerly
+brushed straight back from the forehead now showed beneath the hat-band.
+The Van Dyke which had masked the receding tendency of the chin was
+shaven away. Evidently the gentleman wished to present a changed
+appearance to the world, but the visionary eyes were unmistakably those
+of Louis, the Dreamer, and in lapses of thought the fingers of the right
+hand nervously twisted and untwisted, after the manner of an old
+personal trick.</p>
+
+<p>As Blanco came up the stairs he brushed clumsily against the stranger
+and paused to apologize.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I am inexcusably awkward," he avowed with engaging contriteness.</p>
+
+<p>The Duke protested that it was not worth mention, and added with a
+smile, "I noticed that you came from that yacht. I think she is one of
+the most beautiful little vessels I have ever seen."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, Monsieur." Blanco was apparently much flattered. "She is
+American built, and has some appointments which I have not seen
+elsewhere." Then smilingly, but in hot haste, he rushed away.</p>
+
+<p>During the course of the evening the Andalusian contrived to throw
+himself repeatedly across the Duke's path. On each occasion he appeared
+to be in great haste and under the necessity of immediate departure,
+though he never left without a cordial word of recognition. He played
+his game so adroitly that at the end of the evening the Duke felt as
+though he and the stranger from the American-built yacht were old and
+pleasant acquaintances.</p>
+
+<p>It was as they stood watching the stiffer gambling of the elect in the
+upper room of the Casino, after the wheels below had ceased to spin,
+that the tall gentleman turned to Blanco.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you say? Would a cup of coffee or a glass of wine go amiss?"</p>
+
+<p>Without a trace of eagerness, the Andalusian assented and a few minutes
+later he found himself across a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> caf&eacute; table at the Nouvel H&ocirc;tel de
+Paris; listening to Louis, the Dreamer's soft voice, and watching the
+slender fingers which nervously toyed with a S&eacute;vres cup.</p>
+
+<p>"She is extremely beautiful in her lines," Louis was declaring. "I am
+fond of yachts that are properly built. I am planning one myself, and
+each new vessel holds for me a fresh interest."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, indeed!" The Spaniard was delighted. "Then we have fallen upon a
+common enthusiasm. I am never so happy as when talking to a keen
+yachtsman." Yet so long as the conversation threatened those nautical
+technicalities in which he was utterly deficient, he managed to let the
+other do the talking.</p>
+
+<p>Manuel at last set down his cup and, looking up with a flash, as of
+sudden inspiration, suggested: "But doubtless you will be stopping in
+Monte Carlo a day or two? Possibly you will do me the honor of
+inspecting the boat?"</p>
+
+<p>The other protested that his friend was too good. He regarded himself
+highly honored. He would be most charmed. But apparently the idea was
+developing and Blanco was conceiving even more extended notions of
+hospitality.</p>
+
+<p>"Stay!" he suddenly exclaimed. "Why not breakfast with me, on board,
+to-morrow at twelve? The launch will be at the landing at eleven
+forty-five. I could take you cruising for a few knots, and let<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> you test
+her sailing qualities, returning in abundant time for dinner and the
+amusements of the evening."</p>
+
+<p>Louis gave the matter a moment's reflection, then declared that the
+programme was delightful. He would not be engaged until the evening.</p>
+
+<p>Blanco laughed uproariously. "It is most amusing," he declared. "I have
+had supper with you&mdash;you are to breakfast with me, and I have not yet
+told you my name!" He was searching for a card-case, which seemingly he
+had misplaced. "I cannot find a card. No matter, my name is Sir Manuel
+Blanco."</p>
+
+<p>The Duke smiled as he rose from the table and took up hat and cane. "I
+was equally forgetful," he said. "My name is Monsieur Breuillard."</p>
+
+<p>The following day had advanced well into the afternoon, and Monsieur
+Breuillard had punctuated with graceful compliment each point of
+excellence in the equipment of the <i>Isis</i>, when Blanco led the way into
+the small smoking saloon.</p>
+
+<p>"Sailing qualities may not have been fairly tested," admitted Sir
+Manuel, "since the sea was serene, the sky brilliant, and the breeze
+insufficient to ruffle the water."</p>
+
+<p>"The more charming, Monsieur!" exclaimed the guest, whose mood after a
+pleasing day was mellow and complacent.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Blanco waved Monsieur Breuillard to an easy chair and pointed out
+cigars. As chance would have it, he stood before the door, which he had
+just closed.</p>
+
+<p>"By the way&mdash;Your Grace&mdash;" He broke off abruptly to mark the effect of
+the title on the other man. Evidently he found it highly pleasing for he
+smiled as the Dreamer winced and came violently to his feet, pale and
+rigid, but as yet too astounded for speech.</p>
+
+<p>"I did not tell you, did I," went on the Spaniard, "that I have been Sir
+Manuel Blanco only a few days, and that the title was conferred on me by
+your royal kinsman, Karyl of Galavia, for a trifling service in
+confounding his enemies? Before that I was a <i>matador</i> in Andalusia."</p>
+
+<p>Delgado stood petrified, his features livid and his eyes blazing with
+rage. An instinct warned him that to surrender to passion would be only
+to trap himself more deeply. The man blocking the door filled its
+breadth with his strong shoulders. Louis turned his head and his eyes
+caught through the open porthole a glimpse of the receding shore-line of
+the Riviera. Blanco followed the glance and smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"We shall be losing shore in a short time," he calmly announced. "May I
+have the honor of showing Your Grace to your stateroom?"</p>
+
+<hr class='smler' />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>On the next evening Benton emerged from his rooms at the Grand Palace
+Hotel in Puntal, and threading his way through the loungers on the
+galleries, sought out a remote corner of the garden, where, under a
+blossom-freighted vine, he could hear the surge of the sea, and, in a
+tempered softness, the Viennese waltz of the hotel band. Under him the
+harbor mirrored lights along the shore and those of ships at anchor. At
+a distance the windows of the Palace could be seen.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Benton recognized the coldly modulated voice before he glanced up at the
+cloaked figure.</p>
+
+<p>"Colonel Von Ritz," he said, "I am honored."</p>
+
+<p>Von Ritz bowed.</p>
+
+<p>"His Majesty requests that you will do him the honor of coming to the
+Palace with me&mdash;now."</p>
+
+<p>Despite the form of request in which the summons was couched, Von Ritz
+clothed it in a coldness that brought to Benton's mind the implacable
+politeness of an arrest. At the hint he stiffened.</p>
+
+<p>"If His Majesty requests my presence," he replied with some shortness,
+"it will be a pleasure to present myself at once. If&mdash;" he paused and
+looked at the stiffly erect figure before him, "if the peremptory tone
+you assume is a part of your instruction, I must remind you that I am an
+American citizen, entirely<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> free to accept or decline invitations&mdash;even
+when they come from the Palace."</p>
+
+<p>Von Ritz replied with unruffled gravity.</p>
+
+<p>"If it will add to your sense of security, Mr. Benton, I shall be
+pleased to drive you to your Legation and to have your government's
+representative accompany us."</p>
+
+<p>Benton flushed. "I was not speaking from any sense of personal
+insecurity," he explained. "But I wished you to understand the manner in
+which I prefer to be approached."</p>
+
+<p>The Colonel waited with perfect courtesy for the American to finish,
+then he went on in the same distantly polite tone and manner. "I had not
+quite finished delivering my message when you&mdash;when you began to speak.
+His Majesty instructs me to say that if you will accompany me to the
+Palace he will regard it as a courtesy and will be grateful. He commands
+me to add that he does not send this message officially or as coming
+from the Court. It is simply that the Count Pagratide wishes to see you
+and that it is obviously impossible for His Majesty&mdash;for the Count
+Pagratide&mdash;to call on you here."</p>
+
+<p>Benton was irritated with himself for his display of temper, and more
+irritated with Von Ritz for his calm superiority of manner. His murmured
+apology was offered with no very good grace as he turned to follow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> the
+other's lead. Opposite the hotel entrance he stopped.</p>
+
+<p>"Colonel," he said, "I have been awaiting news from Manuel Blanco. He
+may send a message or come himself, and if so it may be vital for him to
+establish instant communication with me."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly," agreed Von Ritz. "I would suggest that you introduce my
+aide, who may be trusted, at the hotel and that he be instructed to
+bring you any message. By that means, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i> Blanco, or his news, can
+follow you directly to the Palace&mdash;and it does not become necessary to
+take others into your confidence."</p>
+
+<p>The same young Captain who had summoned Blanco in the Casino was left to
+act as messenger and Benton, following the officer through a side gate
+and into a side street, stepped into a closed carriage.</p>
+
+<p>"I had not supposed that the Palace knew of my presence in Puntal,"
+commented the American as he took his seat opposite the Colonel of
+Cavalry.</p>
+
+<p>"You were seen on the promenade. It was reported from several sources,"
+Von Ritz made answer. "Also," he added as an afterthought, "we knew of
+your arrival two hours after you reached Puntal. You registered at the
+hotel under your own name."</p>
+
+<p>"Does the Queen also know of my presence?" asked Benton.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No," was the brief reply.</p>
+
+<p>For the remainder of the drive conversation died. The two men sat mutely
+opposite each other as the carriage jolted over the cobble-stoned
+streets, until the driver turned into the castle gates.</p>
+
+<p>Then Von Ritz again leaned forward.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Benton," he explained, "it happens that this evening a ball is
+being given at the Palace for the members of the Diplomatic Corps. His
+Majesty, supposing that you would desire a quiet reception, instructed
+me to take you to the gardens of his private suite where he will shortly
+join you; unless," added Von Ritz courteously, "you prefer the
+Throne-room and dancing <i>salles</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>Benton's reply was prompt.</p>
+
+<p>"I believe I am to see the Count Pagratide," he answered. "I am grateful
+to the Count for arranging that I might be secluded."</p>
+
+<p>Blanco had gone into some detail in describing the chamber where he had
+met the King, and later the Queen. Benton now recognized the place to
+which he was conducted, from that description. As before, the room was
+empty and the porti&egrave;res of the wide windows were partly drawn. Through
+the opening he could see the small area perching on a space redeemed
+from the solid rock. Dark masses against the sky marked the palms of the
+garden, and through the window<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> drifted the splashing of a fountain
+mingled with the distant strains of the same Viennese waltz that the
+hotel band had been playing. That year you might have heard it from the
+Golden Gate to Suez and back again from Suez to the Golden Gate.</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2>
+
+<h3>IN WHICH THE SPHINX BREAKS SILENCE</h3>
+
+<p>Left alone, Benton spent ten minutes in the room, then passed through
+the window to the balcony and went down into the miniature garden. His
+face was hot and his pulses heightened. The garden was gratefully cool
+and quiet.</p>
+
+<p>From the window, through which he had come, a broad shaft of tempered
+luminance fell across the fountain and laid a zone of soft light athwart
+the low stone benches surrounding it. Then it caught, and faintly edged
+with its glow, the granite balustrade at the shoulder of the cliff.
+Elsewhere the little garden was enveloped in the velvet blackness of the
+night, against which the points of town and harbor lights, far below,
+were splinters of emerald and ruby. The moon would not rise until late.</p>
+
+<p>The American strolled over to the shaded margin which was unspoiled by
+the light. He brushed back the hair from his forehead and let the sea
+breeze play on his face.</p>
+
+<p>Finally a light sound behind him called his atten<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>tion inward. The King
+and Von Ritz stood together in the doorway. Both were in dress uniform.
+Karyl, even at the side of the soldierly Von Ritz, was striking in the
+white and silver of Galavia's commanding general. Across his breast
+glinted the decorations of all the orders to which Royalty entitled him.</p>
+
+<p>The King, with a deep breath not unlike a sigh, came forward to the
+fountain. There he halted with one booted foot on the margin of the
+basin and his white-gauntleted hands clasped at his back. He had not yet
+seen Benton, who now stepped out of the shadow to present himself. As he
+came into view Karyl raised his eyes and nodded with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, Benton," he said, "so you came! Thank you."</p>
+
+<p>The American bowed. He wished to observe every proper amenity of Court
+etiquette. He was still chagrined by the memory of his rudeness to Von
+Ritz, yet he was determined that if Karyl had sent for him as the Count
+Pagratide, he must receive him on equal terms and without ceremony.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly," he replied. Then with a short laugh he added: "I have never
+before been received by a crowned head. If my etiquette proves faulty,
+you must score it against my ignorance&mdash;not my intention."</p>
+
+<p>"I sent for you," said Karyl slowly, as the eyes of the two men met in
+full directness, "and you were good enough to come. I am a crowned
+head&mdash;yes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>&mdash;that is my damned ill-fortune. Let us, for God's sake, in so
+far as we may, forget that! Benton, back there&mdash;" his voice suddenly
+rose and took on a passionate tremor as he lifted one gauntleted hand in
+a sweep toward the west&mdash;"back there in your country, where you were a
+grandee of finance and I an impecunious foreigner, there was no ceremony
+between us. If we can forget this livery"&mdash;Karyl savagely struck his
+breast&mdash;"if you will try to forget that you are looking at a toy King,
+fancifully trimmed from head to heel in braid and medals&mdash;then perhaps
+we can talk!"</p>
+
+<p>"Your Majesty&mdash;" demurred Von Ritz in a tone of deep protest.</p>
+
+<p>The King swept his arm back as one who brushes an unimportant intruder
+into the background.</p>
+
+<p>"And we must talk," went on Karyl vehemently, "as two men, not as one
+man and a puppet."</p>
+
+<p>The American stood looking on at the violence of the King's outburst
+with a sense of deep sympathy. Again the Colonel stepped forward with an
+interposed objection.</p>
+
+<p>"If I may suggest&mdash;" he began in an emotionless inflection which fell in
+startling contrast with the surcharged vehemence of the other. Then he
+halted in the midst of his sentence as Karyl wheeled passionately to
+face him.</p>
+
+<p>"My God, Colonel!" cried the King. "There is not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> a debt of gratitude in
+life that I do not owe to you&mdash;I and my house! I am crushed under my
+obligations to you. You have been our strength, our one loyal support,
+and yet there are times when you madden me!" The officer stood waiting,
+respectful, impersonal, until the flood of words should subside, but for
+a while Karyl swept agitatedly on.</p>
+
+<p>"You wear a sword, Von Ritz, which any monarch in Europe would hire at
+your own price. Any government would let you name what titles and honors
+you wished in payment&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Your Majesty!"</p>
+
+<p>"Forgive me, I know your sword is not for sale. I mean no such
+intimation. I mean only that it has a value. I mean you are a man, and
+the game to you is the large one of statecraft. It is really you who
+rule this Kingdom. Ah, yes, you remonstrate, but I tell you it is true,
+and the damnable shame is that it is not a Kingdom worthy of your
+genius! You, Von Ritz, are the engine, the motive force&mdash;but I&mdash;in God's
+holy name, what am I?"</p>
+
+<p>He raised his hands questioningly, appealingly.</p>
+
+<p>"You," replied the older soldier calmly, "are the King."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Karyl caught up the words almost before they had fallen from the
+lips of the other. "Yes, I am the King. I am the miserable, gilded
+figure<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>head out on the prow, which serves no end and no purpose. I am
+the ornamental symbol of a system which the world is discarding! I am a
+medieval lay figure upon which to hang these tinsel decorations, these
+ribbons!"</p>
+
+<p>"Your Majesty is excited."</p>
+
+<p>"No, by God, I am only heartbroken&mdash;and I am through!" The King's hands
+dropped at his sides. The passion died out of his voice and eyes,
+leaving them those of a man who is very tired. For a moment there was
+silence. It was broken by the American.</p>
+
+<p>"Pagratide," he asked, "why did you send for me?"</p>
+
+<p>The King stood rigid with the illuminating shaft from the door touching
+into high-lights the polish of his boots and the burnish of his
+accouterments. Finally he turned and in a voice now deadly quiet
+countered with another question.</p>
+
+<p>"Benton, why did you save me?"</p>
+
+<p>The American answered with quiet candor.</p>
+
+<p>"I went into it," he said, "because I feared the danger might threaten
+Cara. Once in, only a murderer could have turned back."</p>
+
+<p>"So I thought." Karyl nodded his head, then he turned and paced
+restively up and down the path between the fountain and the balcony. At
+last he halted fronting the American.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I wish to God, Benton, you had let that traitor Lapas and his
+constituents touch their damned button. I wish to God you had let them
+lift me, amid the stones of <i>do Freres</i>, into eternity! But that wish is
+uncharitable to Von Ritz and the others who must have gone with me." The
+King broke off with a short laugh. "After all," he added, "of course, as
+you say, you couldn't do it."</p>
+
+<p>Benton shook his head. "No," he said, "I couldn't do it."</p>
+
+<p>Again Karyl paced back and forth, and again he stopped, facing the
+American.</p>
+
+<p>"Benton, it is hard for two men to talk in this fashion. Perhaps no two
+other men ever did. I find myself a jailer to the woman I love&mdash;Oh, yes,
+I am also imprisoned by Royalty but that does not alter matters." The
+voice shook. The gauntleted hands were tightly gripped, but the speaker
+went steadily on. "And you love her!"</p>
+
+<p>For an instant Benton looked at the other, hesitant. Then realizing the
+unquestionable sincerity with which the King spoke, he answered with
+equal frankness.</p>
+
+<p>"Pagratide&mdash;over there&mdash;I thought I could enter Paradise. I did look
+into Paradise. Then I had to set my face back again to the desert&mdash;and
+in the desert one has only memory and hunger and thirst."</p>
+
+<p>"Yours is hunger and thirst&mdash;yes!" exclaimed the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> King of Galavia. "But
+mine is the hunger and thirst of Tantalus."</p>
+
+<p>There was a low pained exclamation from the balcony and both men wheeled
+in recognition of the voice and the shadow that divided the band of
+light in the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>The Queen stood on the low sill and though her head and figure were only
+sketched in shade against the tempered luminance at her back her
+exclamation told them that she had heard. She stood in the unbroken
+sweep of her Court gown. Her slim hands gripped the ermine which fell
+from her shoulders to the floor and slowly crushed it between clenched
+fingers. About her head the light touched her hair into a soft nimbus.</p>
+
+<p>Karyl stepped impetuously forward and held out his hand to lead her into
+the garden. Benton, who had involuntarily started toward the balcony at
+the first sight of her, caught his lip in his teeth and halted where he
+stood.</p>
+
+<p>The girl remained for a moment, astonished at the sight of the two men,
+incredulous of what she had heard.</p>
+
+<p>She had slipped away for a moment of respite from the fatiguing
+requirements of the ball-room. She had come here because she had felt
+sure that here she could be alone. She had come, driven by the prompting
+of her heart, to look out to the Mediterranean and wonder where, between
+its gates at Gibraltar and Suez, Benton<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> might at that moment be. And
+from the balcony she had seen him in the garden and had heard a part of
+this talk before the spell of her astounded muteness broke into
+exclamation.</p>
+
+<p>"You heard what we were saying." Karyl spoke gently, deferentially. "And
+it seemed to you incredible that we should be confidential on such a
+subject. It would be so, except that we are both seeking the same
+end&mdash;your service&mdash;" he paused, then added miserably&mdash;"and your
+happiness."</p>
+
+<p>She listened in wonderment as she held out her hand to Benton and
+watched trance-like his lowered head as he bent his lips to her fingers.</p>
+
+<p>"Cara!" Karyl had stepped back and was leaning over, his elbows resting
+on the stone back of one of the low benches. His fingers tightly grasped
+the carved ornaments at its top. His words were carefully chosen and
+measuredly spoken. He knew that if he permitted one expression to escape
+him unguardedly, with it would slip away the command by which he was
+curbing mutinous emotions.</p>
+
+<p>"Cara, I happened to be born a Prince, who should one day develop into a
+King. It chanced that Nature had a sense of humor&mdash;so Nature paid me a
+droll compliment. She gave me a futile ambition to be a man&mdash;me, whom
+she had decided was to be only a King!"</p>
+
+<p>The group stood silent and attentive in a strained<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> tableau, except for
+Von Ritz, who paced back and forth just beyond the fountain, as though
+respectfully repudiating the whole unseemly episode.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I fell in love with you," went on the King of Galavia. "You
+married me&mdash;because State reasons demanded it. I could not win your
+love&mdash;he did!" He turned toward Benton, and his voice, though it held
+its slow control, was bitter.</p>
+
+<p>"Benton, do you fancy this puny game amuses me? Do I not know that you
+could buy a principality like this for a souvenir of Europe if it
+happened to please you? The one time I have been allowed to feel a man
+was in your country, where we met as equal rivals.... No, not equal even
+then, because you were the winner, I the loser."</p>
+
+<p>"Karyl," the Queen spoke in a low voice, "I can give you loyalty,
+admiration, respect and my life to use as you see fit to use it. I give
+as freely as I can. My love I do not refuse&mdash;it is just ... just that it
+is not mine to give." She spoke with unutterable weariness. "I seem to
+bring only sorrow to those who love me."</p>
+
+<p>"You can give me all but love," Karyl repeated very softly, leaning
+forward toward her, "and love is all there is! Without it I take all
+else you give me as a thief takes, without right. If being a King means
+being your jailer, then I am done with being a King!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Your Majesty," cut in Von Ritz sharply, "it is time to terminate this
+talk. It has no end. It is aimless argument which comes only back to the
+starting point."</p>
+
+<p>The King wheeled and met the eyes of his adviser. The studied
+self-control he had maintained since Cara's arrival slipped from him and
+his voice broke out explosively.</p>
+
+<p>"It has an end!" he cried. "I will show you the end. If I cannot build
+empire I can do something else, I can throw this damnable little Kingdom
+down into the chaos it deserves!... I can abdicate to my cousin, Louis
+Delgado, who wants the throne I don't want!... I can stamp on this
+tinseled trumpery.... I can break jail!" He turned with an impassioned
+out-sweeping of his hands. Coming swiftly from behind the bench, he
+halted tensely before Benton and leaned defiantly forward. "Then I can
+free her&mdash;and by God I shall fight you for her on equal terms, inch by
+inch, not holding her in duress, but fighting for her free consent. She
+has been trapped by Fate into marrying me and at heart she rebels. I
+shall set her free and then by God I will win her back!"</p>
+
+<p>Von Ritz had stood by as the King rushed on in climax after climax of
+heated words. Now he took one swift stride forward. From his quiet face
+had fallen every trace of impassiveness. When he spoke his voice<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span>
+trembled with the irresistible eloquence of power and fire.</p>
+
+<p>"My God, boy!" He seized Karyl by his shoulders and wheeled him so that
+they stood face to face. There was in his manner nothing of deference,
+nothing of the subordinate. Now he stood transformed, the man of action;
+the dominant, compelling force before whom littler men must wither. This
+was no longer Von Ritz the emotionless. It was Von Ritz the King-maker,
+burning with vitalizing passion.</p>
+
+<p>"My God, boy, are you mad? Do you think other men have never loved and
+sacrificed themselves for duty&mdash;kept unuttered, locked in their hearts,
+things they were hungry to say?... Do you think that your hard task of
+Kingship is yours to play with&mdash;to desert?... Why, boy, I've taught you
+your manual of arms, I've drilled you, trained you, watched you grow
+from childhood. My heart has beaten with joy because you were free of
+every degenerate trace that has marked and scarred Europe's cancerous
+Royalty! I've seen you come clean-hearted, straight-minded into
+man-hood; prepared you to show the world what a Kingdom can be with a
+clean King&mdash;a strong King! I've fitted you to bear a burden which only a
+man could bear&mdash;to remind the world that 'King' means the Man Who
+Can&mdash;and I thought you could do it!" He paused only to draw a long
+breath, then hastened on again. "Yes,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> your task is thankless. Your
+Principality is small, but it is a keystone in Europe's arch. It is such
+Princelings as you who must send clean blood down to the thrones of
+to-morrow.... Is that not enough?... Have I built a King, day by day,
+year by year, idea by idea, only to see him wither and crumple under the
+first blast? Go on with your task, in God's name! Probably they will
+murder you ... assassination may at the end be your reward, but only the
+coward fears the outcome! For God's sake, Karyl, don't desert me under
+fire!"</p>
+
+<p>He paused with a gesture eloquent of appeal. When next he spoke his
+voice was slow, deliberate.</p>
+
+<p>"And the other picture! The caf&eacute; tables of Paris are crowded with
+Royalty that has been; with the miserable children of conquered and
+abdicated Kings!"</p>
+
+<p>The King dropped exhaustedly to the bench, his fore-arms on his knees,
+his gloved fingers hanging limp. After a moment he rose again and went
+to Cara.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to fight for you," he said simply. "I want to free you
+first&mdash;then fight for you."</p>
+
+<p>"Karyl," she answered gently, "if you do <i>this</i>, you will enslave my
+soul, and my imprisonment will be only harder. You will make me a
+wrecker of governments&mdash;a traitor to my duty."</p>
+
+<p>The King turned and looked out to sea.</p>
+
+<p>"I must think," he said in a tired voice. "Perhaps<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> it is only a matter
+of time. Delgado is free. Perhaps I shall not have to present him with
+my throne. Conceivably he may come and take it."</p>
+
+<p>Von Ritz approached again and took Karyl's hand. To him a King was, at
+last analysis, only the best product of the King-maker's craft. He was a
+King-maker&mdash;before him stood a tired boy whom he loved.</p>
+
+<p>"You will fight," he said, "and you will fight with hell's fury. The
+first step will be to recapture this Pretender. With him in hand&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Which is in itself impossible," retorted Karyl.</p>
+
+<p>At the window appeared the young Captain who had been left at the hotel.
+His hand was at his forehead in salute. Von Ritz went to meet him and in
+a moment returned for Benton. Together the two men went out. Five
+minutes later they had come again into the garden. With them came Manuel
+Blanco.</p>
+
+<p>The bull fighter paused to bow low to the Queen, then to the King. At
+last he spoke with some diffidence.</p>
+
+<p>"I have taken the very great liberty," he said, "of making the Duke
+Louis Delgado an enforced guest on the yacht&mdash;where he awaits Your
+Majesty's pleasure."</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2>
+
+<h3>THE JACKAL TAKES THE TRAIL</h3>
+
+<p>"When the Duke avowed himself to be kidnaped, he committed an error so
+grave that it can hardly be&mdash;overestimated." The speaker used the last
+word as an afterthought. His first inclination was to say, forgiven.</p>
+
+<p>Monsieur Jusseret sat upright in the brougham, scorning the supporting
+cushions at his back. His small, shrewd eyes frowned his deep
+disapproval over the roofs of Algiers outspread below him. He scowled on
+the gaudy and tatterdemalion color of the native city. He scowled on the
+smart brilliancy of the French quarter basking along the <i>Place du
+Government</i> and the <i>Boulevard de la Republique</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The Countess Astaride leaned back and smiled from the depths of the
+cushions.</p>
+
+<p>"It is usually a mistake to be made a prisoner," she smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"But such a foolish mistake," quarreled Jusseret. "To permit oneself to
+be lured into so palpable a trap. It is most absurd."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Now that it is done," inquired the woman, "is it not almost as absurd
+to waste time deploring the spilled milk? We must find a way to set him
+free."</p>
+
+<p>"I have done all that could be done. I have stationed men whom I can
+trust throughout Puntal and Galavia. They are men Karyl likewise thinks
+he can trust. The distinction is that I know&mdash;where he merely thinks."</p>
+
+<p>"And these men&mdash;what have they done?" The Countess laid one gloved hand
+eagerly on the Frenchman's coat-sleeve.</p>
+
+<p>"These men have gradually and quietly reorganized the army, the
+bureaucracy, the very palace Guard. We have undermined the government's
+power, until when the word is passed to strike the blow, a honey-combed
+system will crumble under its own weight. When Karyl calls on his
+troops, not one man will respond. Well&mdash;" Jusseret smiled
+dryly&mdash;"perhaps I overstate the case. Possibly one man will. I think we
+will hardly convert Von Ritz."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, that is good news, Monsieur." The Countess breathed the words with
+a tremor of enthusiasm.</p>
+
+<p>"It is, however, all useless, Madame&mdash;since His Grace is unavailable. In
+captivity he is absolutely valueless."</p>
+
+<p>"In captivity he has a stronger claim upon our loyalty than in power!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The dark-room diplomat regarded her with a disappointed smile.</p>
+
+<p>"For a clever woman, <i>Comptesse</i>, who has heretofore played the game so
+brilliantly, you have grown singularly unobservant. I am not a crusader,
+liberating captive Christian knights. I am France's servant, playing a
+somewhat guileful game which is as ancient as Ulysses, and subject to
+certain definite rules."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But, my dear lady, this revolution I have planted&mdash;nourished and
+cultivated to ripeness&mdash;I cannot harvest it. Outside Europe must not
+appear interested in this matter. If the Galavian people led by a member
+of the Galavian Royal House revolts! <i>Bien!</i> More than
+<i>bien</i>&mdash;excellent!" Jusseret spread his palms. "But unless there is a
+leader, there can be no revolution. No, no, Louis should have kept out
+of custody."</p>
+
+<p>The Countess leaned forward with sudden eagerness.</p>
+
+<p>"And if I free him? If I devise a way?"</p>
+
+<p>The Frenchman turned quickly from contemplation of the landscape to her
+face.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" he exclaimed. "Once more you are yourself; the cleverest woman in
+Europe, as, always, you are the most charming!"</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know where Monsieur Martin may be found?"</p>
+
+<p>Jusseret looked at her in surprise.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I supposed he was here, consulting with you. I sent him to you with a
+letter&mdash;recommending him as a useful instrument."</p>
+
+<p>"He was in Algiers, but I sent him away." The Countess laughed. "He
+wanted money, always money, until I wearied of furnishing his purse."</p>
+
+<p>"Even if he were available he could hardly go to Puntal, Madame,"
+demurred Jusseret. "Von Ritz knows him."</p>
+
+<p>"True." The Countess sat for a time in deep thought.</p>
+
+<p>"There is one man in Puntal," said Jusseret with sudden thought, "who
+might possibly be of assistance to you. He is not legally a citizen of
+Galavia. He even has a certain official connection with another
+government. He is a man I cannot myself approach." Jusseret had been
+talking in a low tone, too low to endanger being overheard by the
+<i>cocher</i>, but now with excess of caution he leaned forward and whispered
+a name. The name was Jos&eacute; Reebeler.</p>
+
+<hr class='smler' />
+
+<p>It was June. Three months had passed since the Grand Duke had steamed
+into Puntal Harbor as Blanco's prisoner of war. The Duke had since that
+day been a guest of the King. His goings and comings were, however,
+guarded with strict solicitude. One day he went after his custom for a
+stroll in the Palace<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> garden. He was accompanied by two officers of the
+Palace Guard especially selected by Von Ritz for known fidelity. At the
+garden gates stood picked sentinels. That evening a fisherman's boat
+stole out of the harbor. Neither Louis Delgado nor his guard returned.
+The sentinels failed to respond at roll-call.</p>
+
+<p>As the King and the Colonel listened to the report of the escape,
+Karyl's face paled a little and the features of Von Ritz hardened.
+Orders were given for an instant dispatch in cipher, demanding from a
+secret agent in Algiers all information obtainable as to the movements
+of the Countess Astaride. The reply brought the statement that the
+Countess had, several days before, sailed for Alexandria and Cairo.</p>
+
+<p>Von Ritz became preternaturally active, masking every movement under his
+accustomed seeming of imperturbable calm. At last he brought his report
+to the King. "It signifies one thing which I had not suspected. Among
+the men whom I thought I could most implicitly trust, there is treason.
+How deep that cancer goes is a matter as to which we can only make
+guesses."</p>
+
+<p>Karyl took a few turns across the floor.</p>
+
+<p>"And by that you mean that we are over a volcano which may break into
+eruption at any moment?"</p>
+
+<p>Von Ritz nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"And the Queen&mdash;" began Karyl.</p>
+
+<p>"I have been thinking of Her Majesty," said the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> Colonel. "She should
+leave Puntal, but she will not go, if it occurs to her that she is being
+sent away to escape danger. Her Majesty's courage might almost be called
+stubborn."</p>
+
+<p>The King made no immediate response. He was standing at a window,
+looking out at the serenity of sea and sky. His forehead was drawn in
+thought. He knew that Von Ritz was right. Had Cara hated him, instead of
+merely finding herself unable to love him, he knew that the first threat
+of danger would arouse the ally in her, and that the suggestion of
+flight would throw her into the attitude of determined resistance. She
+was like the captain who goes down with his ship, not because he loves
+the ship, but because his place is on the bridge.</p>
+
+<p>Von Ritz went on quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"God grant that Your Majesty may be in no actual danger. But we must
+face the situation open-eyed. Your place is here. If by mischance you
+should fall, there is no reason why&mdash;" he hesitated, then added&mdash;"why
+the dynasty should end with you. In Galavia there is no Salic law. Her
+Majesty could reign. Undoubtedly the Queen should be in some safer
+place."</p>
+
+<p>The King dropped into a chair and sat for some minutes with his eyes
+thoughtfully on the floor. Abstractedly he puffed a cigarette. At last
+he raised his face. It was pale, but stamped with determination.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"There is only one thing to do, Von Ritz. There is one available
+refuge."</p>
+
+<p>The soldier read the reluctant eyes of the other, and spared him the
+necessary explanation with a question. "Mr. Benton's yacht?" he
+inquired.</p>
+
+<p>Karyl nodded. "The yacht."</p>
+
+<p>"I, too, had thought of that, but how can you arrange it, Your Majesty?"</p>
+
+<p>"We must persuade her that she requires a change of scene and that this
+is the one way she can have it without conspicuousness. It can be given
+out that she has gone to Maritzburg, and I shall tell her"&mdash;Karyl smiled
+with a cynical humor&mdash;"that I am over-weary with this task of Kingship,
+and that I shall join her within a few days for a brief truancy from the
+cares of state."</p>
+
+<p>"It may be the safest thing," reflected the officer. "It at least frees
+our minds of a burdensome anxiety."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall persuade her," declared Karyl. "She can take several
+ladies-in-waiting and you can accompany her to the yacht and explain to
+Benton. Direct him to cruise within wireless call and to avoid cities
+where the Queen might be in danger of recognition. She must remain until
+we gain some hint as to when and where the crater is apt to break into
+eruption."</p>
+
+<p>Jusseret was busy. His agencies were at work over the peninsula. It was
+the sort of conspiracy in which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> the Frenchman took the keenest
+delight&mdash;purely a military revolution.</p>
+
+<p>The peasant on the mountains, the agriculturist in his buttressed and
+terraced farm, the grape-grower in his vineyard and the artisan and
+laborer in Puntal did not know that there was dissatisfaction with the
+government.</p>
+
+<p>But in the small army and the smaller bureaucracy there was plotting and
+undermining. Subtle and devious temptations were employed. Captains saw
+before them the shoulder straps of the major, lieutenants the insignia
+of the captain, privates the chevrons of the sergeant.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, from a town in southerly Europe, near the Galavian frontier,
+Monsieur Jusseret in person was alertly watching.</p>
+
+<p>Martin, the "English Jackal," much depleted in fortune, drifting before
+vagabond winds and hailing last from Malta, learned of the Frenchman's
+seemingly empty programme. Since his dismissal by the Countess, there
+had been no employer for his unscrupulous talents. Now he needed funds.
+Where Jusseret operated there might be work in his particular line. He
+knew that when this man seemed most idle he was often most busy. Martin
+had come to a near-by point by chance. He went on to Jusseret's town,
+and then to his hotel, with the same surety and motive that directs the
+vulture to its carrion.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> The Jackal was ushered into the Frenchman's
+room in the tattered and somewhat disheveled condition to which his
+recent weeks of vagabondage had subjected him.</p>
+
+<p>Jusseret looked his former ally over with scarcely concealed contempt.
+Martin sustained the stare and returned it with one coolly audacious.</p>
+
+<p>"I daresay," he began, with something of insolence in his drawl, "it's
+hardly necessary to explain why I'm here. I'm looking for something to
+do, and in my condition"&mdash;he glanced deprecatingly down at his faded
+tweeds&mdash;"one can't be over nice in selecting one's business associates."</p>
+
+<p>Jusseret was secretly pleased. He divined that before the end came there
+might be use for Martin, though no immediate need of him suggested
+itself. There were so few men obtainable who would, without question,
+undertake and execute intrigue or homicide equally well. It might be
+expedient to hold this one in reserve.</p>
+
+<p>"We will not quarrel, Monsieur Martin," he said almost with a purr. "It
+is not even necessary to return the compliment. It is so well
+understood, why one employs your capable services."</p>
+
+<p>The Englishman flushed. To defend his reputation would be a waste of
+time.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Madame la Comptesse</i> d'Astaride," explained Jusseret, "has gone to
+Cairo. She may require your wits as well as her own before the game is
+played out.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> Join her there and take your instructions from her." As he
+spoke the map-reviser began counting bills from his well-supplied purse.
+Martin looked at them avidly, then objected with a surly frown.</p>
+
+<p>"She sent me away once, and I don't particularly care for the Cairo
+idea."</p>
+
+<p>"This time she will not send you away." Jusseret glanced up with a bland
+smile. "And it seems I remember a season, not so many years gone, when
+you were a rather prominent personage upon the terrace of Shephard's.
+You were quite an engaging figure of a man, Monsieur Martin, in flannels
+and Panama hat, quite a smart figure!"</p>
+
+<p>The Englishman scowled. "You delight, Monsieur, in touching the raw
+spots&mdash;However, I daresay matters will go rippingly." He took the bills
+and counted them into his own purse. "A chap can't afford to be too
+sentimental or thin-skinned." He was thinking of a couple of clubs in
+Cairo from which he had been asked to resign. Then he laughed callously
+as he added aloud: "You see there's a regiment stationed there, just
+now, which I'd rather not meet. I used to belong to its mess&mdash;once upon
+a time."</p>
+
+<p>Jusseret looked up at the renegade, then with a cynical laugh he rose.</p>
+
+<p>"These little matters <i>are</i> inconvenient," he admitted, "but
+embarrassments beset one everywhere. If one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> turns aside to avoid his
+old regiment, who knows but he may meet his tailor insistent upon
+payment&mdash;or the lady who was once his wife?"</p>
+
+<p>He lighted a cigarette, then with the refined cruelty that enjoyed
+torturing a victim who could not afford to resent his brutality, he
+added:</p>
+
+<p>"But these army regulations are extremely annoying, I daresay&mdash;these
+rules which proclaim it infamous to recognize one who&mdash;who has, under
+certain circumstances, ceased to be a brother-officer."</p>
+
+<p>The Englishman was leaning across the table, his cheek-bones red and his
+eyes dangerous.</p>
+
+<p>"By God, Jusseret, don't go too far!" he cautioned.</p>
+
+<p>The Frenchman raised his hands in an apologetic gesture, but his eyes
+still held a trace of the malevolent smile.</p>
+
+<p>"A thousand pardons, my dear Martin," he begged. "I meant only to be
+sympathetic."</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2>
+
+<h3>THE DEATH Of ROMANCE IS DEPLORED</h3>
+
+<p>"And yet," declared young Harcourt, "if there still survives, anywhere
+in the world, a vestige of Romance, this should be her refuge; her last
+stand against the encroachments of the commonplace."</p>
+
+<p>He spoke animatedly, with the double eagerness of a boy and an artist,
+sweeping one hand outward in an argumentative gesture. It was a gesture
+which seemed to submit in evidence all the palpitating colors of Capri
+sunning herself among her rocks: all the sparkle and glitter of the Bay
+of Naples spreading away to the nebulous line where Ischia bulked
+herself in mist against the horizon: all the majesty of the cone where
+the fires of Vesuvius lay sleeping.</p>
+
+<p>Across the table Sir Manuel Blanco shrugged his broad shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>Benton lighted a cigarette, and a smile, scarcely indicative of frank
+amusement, flickered in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you hold that Romance is on the run?" he queried.</p>
+
+<p>"Where do you find it nowadays?" demanded the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> boy in flannels. "There!"
+With the violence of disgust he slammed a Baedeker of Southern Italy
+down upon the table. "That is the way we see the world in these days! We
+go back with souvenir postcards instead of experiences, and when we get
+home we have just been to a lot of tramped-over places. I'll wager that
+a handful of this copper junk they call money over here, would buy in a
+bull market all the real adventure any of us will ever know."</p>
+
+<p>The three had been lunching out-doors in a Capri hotel with flagstones
+for a floor and overhanging vine-trellises for a roof. Chance had thrown
+this young stranger across their path, and luncheon had cemented an
+acquaintanceship.</p>
+
+<p>"Who can say?" suggested Benton. "Why hunt Trouble under the alias of
+Romance? Vesuvius, across there, is as vague and noiseless to-day as a
+wraith, but to-morrow his demon may run amuck over all this end of
+Italy! And then&mdash;" His laugh finished the speculation.</p>
+
+<p>"And yet," went on the boy, after a moment's pause, "I was just thinking
+of a chap I met in Algiers a while back and later on the boat to Malta.
+I ran across him in one of those vile little twisting alleys in the
+Kasbah quarter where dirty natives sit cross-legged on shabby rugs and
+eye the 'Infidel dogs' just as spiders watch flies from loathsome
+webs&mdash;ugh, you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> know the sort of place!" He paused with a slight shudder
+of reminiscent disgust. "I fancy he has had adventures. We had a glass
+of wine later down at one of the sidewalk caf&eacute;s in the <i>Boulevard de la
+Republique</i>. He showed me lots of things that a regular guide would have
+omitted. The fellow was on his uppers, yet he had been something else,
+and still knew genteel people. Up on the driveway by the villas, where
+fashion parades, he excused himself to speak with a magnificently
+dressed woman in a brougham, and she chatted with him in a manner almost
+confidential. He told me later she might some day occupy a throne; I
+think her name was the Countess Astaride."</p>
+
+<p>Benton looked up quickly and his eyes met those of the Spaniard with a
+swiftly flashed message which excluded Harcourt.</p>
+
+<p>"This fellow and I were on the same boat coming over to Valetta,"
+continued the young tourist. "One night in the smoke-room, the steward
+was filling the glasses pretty frequently. At last he became
+confidential."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?" prompted Benton.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, he told me he had once held a commission in the British Army and
+had seen service in diplomacy as military attach&eacute;. Then he got
+cashiered. He didn't go into particulars, and of course I didn't
+cross-question. He recited some weird experiences. He had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> a cattle
+man in Australia and a horse-trader in Syria and had served the Sultan
+in Turkey. There were lots of things that would have made a good book."
+The boy's voice took on a note of young ardor. "But the great story was
+the one he told last. He had stood to win a title of nobility in this
+two-by-four Kingdom of Galavia, but it had slipped away from him just on
+the verge of attainment."</p>
+
+<p>Harcourt slowly drained his thin Capri wine and set down the goblet.</p>
+
+<p>"I must watch the time," he remembered at last, drawing out his watch.
+"I do the Blue Grotto this afternoon.... Well, to continue: This chap
+gave the name Browne (he insisted that it be Browne with an e), though
+while he was drunk he called himself Martin.</p>
+
+<p>"He told a long and complicated story of plans in which a King was to
+lose his life and throne. He said that the secret cabinets of several of
+the major European governments were interested, and that just as
+carefully prepared plans were about to be consummated something
+happened&mdash;something mysterious which none of the cleverest agents of the
+governments had been able to solve. In some unfathomable way someone had
+discovered everything and stepped between and disarranged. No upheaval
+followed and of course Browne never won his title. They have never yet
+learned who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> saved that throne. Someone is working magic and getting
+away with it under the eyes of Europe's cleverest detectives."</p>
+
+<p>The boy stopped and looked about to see if his recital had aroused the
+proper wonderment. Both men gave expression of deep interest. Flattered
+by the impression he had made, Harcourt went on. "Now you fellows are
+old travelers&mdash;men of the world&mdash;I am a kid compared to you. Yet has
+either of you stumbled on such a story as that? So you see wonderful
+things do sometimes happen under the surface of affairs with never a
+ripple at the top of the water. Browne&mdash;or Martin&mdash;said that the Duke
+would reign yet&mdash;- oh, yes, he said the Powers would see to that!"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Se&ntilde;or</i>, what became of your friend?" inquired Blanco.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" the boy hesitated for a moment, then broke into a laugh. "I'm
+afraid that's an anti-climax. They found that he was simply a nervy
+stowaway. He had not booked his passage and so&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"They put him off?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, at Malta. Meantime he was stripped to the waist and armed with a
+shovel in the stoke-hold."</p>
+
+<p>Benton laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"There was another phase to it, though&mdash;" began the boy afresh.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>At that moment the whistle of the small excursion steamer below broke
+out in a shrill scream. Young Harcourt hurriedly pushed back his chair
+and grabbed for his Panama hat. "C&aelig;sar!" he cried, "there's the whistle.
+I shall miss my boat for the Grotto." And he hastened off with a shout
+of summons to a crazy victoria that was clattering by empty.</p>
+
+<p>During a long silence Blanco studied the cone of Vesuvius.</p>
+
+<p>"Blanco!" Benton leaned across the table with an anxious frown and
+stretched out a hand which over-turned the wine glasses. "There was one
+thing he said that stuck in my memory. He said the Powers would see that
+in the end Louis had his throne."</p>
+
+<p>The Spaniard shook his head dubiously.</p>
+
+<p>"The Powers have lost their instrument! You forget, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>, that this
+is underground diplomacy. It must appear to work itself out and the new
+King must be logical. With Louis a prisoner their meddling hands are
+bound."</p>
+
+<p>Benton rose and pushed back his chair. His companion joined him and
+together they passed out through the stone-flagged court and into the
+road. For fifteen minutes they walked morosely and in silence through
+the steep streets where the shops are tourist-traps, alluringly baited
+with corals and trinkets. Finally they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> came out on the beach where many
+fishing boats were dragged up on the sand, and nets stretched, drying in
+the sun.</p>
+
+<p>Then Benton spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"In God's name, Manuel, what do I care who occupies the throne of
+Galavia? No other man could so block my path as Karyl." Then as one in
+the confessional he declared shamefacedly: "I have never said it to any
+man because it is too much like murder, but&mdash;sometimes I wish I had
+reached Cadiz one day later than I did." He drew his handkerchief and
+wiped the moisture from his forehead.</p>
+
+<p>The Spaniard skillfully kindled a cigarette in the spurt of a match,
+which the gusty sea-breeze made short-lived.</p>
+
+<p>"And now," he calmly suggested, "it is still possible to let Europe play
+out her game alone. After all, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>, we are as the young <i>touristo</i>
+indicated&mdash;only amateurs."</p>
+
+<p>"And yet, Manuel," the American smiled half-quizzically, "yet we seem
+foreordained to play bodyguard to Karyl. Fate throws him on our hands."</p>
+
+<p>"We might decline in future to accept the charge."</p>
+
+<p>Benton halted so close to the water's edge that a bit of sea-weed was
+washed up close to his feet. "Any threat to the throne of Galavia now is
+also a threat to Her. We must learn what these Powers purpose do<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span>ing."
+He threw back his shoulders and his step quickened with the resolution
+of fresh action.</p>
+
+<p>"Besides," he supplemented, "Delgado is a dreaming degenerate! We must
+get back into the game."</p>
+
+<p>The Spaniard laughed. "As you say, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>. After all, this mere
+cruising grows monotonous. Playing the game is better."</p>
+
+<p>When, at twilight that evening, the launch came chugging back to the
+yacht with the mail from Naples, Benton caught sight of a blue envelope
+in which he recognized the form of the Italian telegraph. He tore it
+open and his brows contracted in incredulous wonderment as he read the
+message.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Carstow and two other ladies arrive Parker's Hotel Naples Tuesday
+afternoon. Rely on your meeting her with yacht. She will explain. Be
+ready to sail immediately on arrival. Address reply Pagratide, care
+Grand Palace Hotel."</p>
+
+<p>Benton smiled almost happily as he scrawled, in reply, "<i>Isis</i> and self
+at Miss Carstow's service. Waiting under steam. Benton."</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2>
+
+<h3>NAPLES ASSUMES NEW BEAUTY</h3>
+
+<p>The following day was Tuesday. It found Benton nearer cheerfulness than
+he had been since the <i>Isis</i> had in February pointed her bow eastward
+for the run across the Atlantic, under sealed orders.</p>
+
+<p>To Blanco the yachtsman announced that he would lunch at Parker's, and
+evasively asked the Spaniard if he would mind being left alone for the
+day.</p>
+
+<p>As the coachman, hailed at random from the mob of brigands by the
+Custom-house entrance, cracked his whip over the bony stallion in the
+fiacre shafts, Benton began to notice that Naples was altogether
+charming. He found no refusals for the tatterdemalion vagabonds who
+pattered alongside to thrust their violets over the carriage door.</p>
+
+<p>At last, as he paced one of the main parlors of the hotel, his eyes
+riveted on the street entrance, he heard a laugh behind him; a laugh
+tempered with a vibrant mellowness which was of a sort with no other
+laugh, and which set him vibrating in turn, as promptly as a tuning-fork
+answers to its note.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The sound brought him round in such electric haste as almost resulted in
+collision with the girl behind him.</p>
+
+<p>He was prepared, of course, to find in her incognita no suggestion of
+Royalty, yet now when he met her standing alone, and could take the hand
+she held out to him with her heart-breaking, heart-recompensating smile,
+he felt a distinct sense of astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm having a holiday," she declared. "It's to be the Queen's day off
+and you are being allowed to play host with the <i>Isis</i>. Do you approve?"</p>
+
+<p>With abandonment to the delight of mere propinquity, he laid away sorrow
+against the returning time of her absence, as one lays away an umbrella
+until the next shower.</p>
+
+<p>"Approve?" he mocked. "It's like asking the drowning man if he approves
+of being picked up."</p>
+
+<p>For a moment her eyes clouded and a droop threatened her lips.</p>
+
+<p>"But," she said in a softer tone, "what if you've got to be thrown back
+into the sea again?" Then she added, "And, you see, I have. Probably I'm
+very foolish to come. The prison will only be blacker, but I couldn't
+stand it. I wanted&mdash;" She looked at him with the frankness which has
+nothing to conceal&mdash;"I wanted to forget it all for a little time."</p>
+
+<p>With a frigid salutation, Colonel Von Ritz arrived. As he addressed the
+American, despite his flawless<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> courtesy, his voice still carried the
+undercurrent of antagonism which no word of his had ever failed to
+convey to Benton, since their first meeting in America.</p>
+
+<p>"If Miss Carstow"&mdash;he uttered the assumed name with distaste&mdash;"will
+excuse you," he suggested, "I should like a word."</p>
+
+<p>Von Ritz led the way out of doors and between the tables and trellises
+of the garden until he came upon a spot which seemed to promise the
+greatest possible degree of privacy. There he stopped and stood looking
+straight ahead of him.</p>
+
+<p>"All that I now tell you, Mr. Benton"&mdash;his voice was even and polite to
+a nicety, yet distinctly icy&mdash;"is of course a message from the King."</p>
+
+<p>"Meaning," Benton smiled with polite indifference, "that your personal
+communications with me would be few?"</p>
+
+<p>"Meaning," corrected Von Ritz gravely, "that in His Majesty's affairs, I
+speak only on His Majesty's authority."</p>
+
+<p>"Colonel, I am at your service."</p>
+
+<p>"In the first place," began the Galavian at last, "His Majesty wished me
+to explain why he has presumed on your further assistance. You are the
+only man outside Galavia who understands&mdash;and whom the King may
+implicitly trust, trust even with the safety of Her Majesty, the
+Queen."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You will convey to the King my appreciation of his confidence."
+Somehow, between the American and this emissary of Karyl, there could
+never be any attitude other than that of the utmost formality.</p>
+
+<p>Von Ritz sketched the situation.</p>
+
+<p>"It is important that the world should not know of Her Majesty's
+departure. It would be an admission to the conspirators that the King
+feels his weakness, and would invite attack. For this reason she could
+not leave in the ordinary way. Fortunately, it is not difficult for Her
+Majesty to escape recognition. She is perhaps the one Queen in Europe
+whose published portraits would not make it impossible for her to go
+unknown through the cities of the Continent. Her prejudice against
+photographs has given her that immunity. She might walk through Paris
+unrecognized."</p>
+
+<p>Benton looked narrowly at Von Ritz. "How much does she know of the
+truth?"</p>
+
+<p>"Absolutely nothing. She has been persuaded to regard the truancy as a
+break in the routine of Court life, which&mdash;" Von Ritz hesitated, then
+went on doggedly&mdash;"which she finds distasteful. She does not even know
+that the Duke is free. That is as closely guarded a secret as the fact
+that he was being held under duress."</p>
+
+<p>The soldier paused, then went on. "The King has told Her Majesty that he
+hopes to join her on your yacht within a few days. You will please
+encourage<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> that fiction. In point of fact," with a gesture of despair,
+"if His Majesty were to leave now he would never return, and if he
+remains now he may never again leave. I must myself hasten back."</p>
+
+<p>The two men went at some length over the details of the situation. It
+was agreed that the simple name of a town received by wireless should be
+a signal upon which the <i>Isis</i> would proceed with all possible haste to
+the place designated. If the necessity should arise for Karyl's leaving
+Galavia, he might in this way take refuge on the yacht. This, explained
+Von Ritz, was only the final precaution of preparing for every exigency.
+His Majesty was determined not to leave his city alive, until he could
+leave it in the full security of his established government.</p>
+
+<p>The King also made another request. If Blanco could be spared and would
+consent to come to Puntal, his proven ability, together with his
+understanding of the language and the fact that he was not generally
+known in Puntal, would give him untold value. All the government's
+secret agents were either under suspicion of treason or too well known
+to the conspirators to be of great avail. If Blanco agreed to come, he
+might return with Von Ritz, or follow him at once and await instructions
+at his hotel, using care to avoid the semblance of open communication
+with the Palace.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>On his return to the parlors, Cara presented Benton to her
+ladies-in-waiting, the Countess Fernandez and the Countess Jaurez, who
+were to travel as Miss Carstow's aunts.</p>
+
+<hr class='smler' />
+
+<p>When there is a three-quarter moon and an atmosphere as subtle as
+perfume; when the walls of the city lose their ragged lines and melt
+into soft shadow shapes, relieved here and there by lights which the
+waters mirror, night and the Bay of Naples are not bad. Then the small
+boats which bob alongside are filled with picturesque beggars raising
+huge bunches of violets on bamboo poles to the deck rails, and the
+mingling of singing voices with guitars sets it all to music.</p>
+
+<p>On the forward deck Benton stood leaning on the rail and looking toward
+the city. At his side was Cara Carstow. She was silent, but she shook
+her head, and the man's solicitous scrutiny caught the deepening
+thought-furrow between her eyes, and the twitching of her fingers.</p>
+
+<p>He bent forward and spoke softly. "Cara, what is it?" She looked up and
+smiled. "I was remembering that I stood just here, once before," she
+said.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think," he asked quietly, "that there has been a moment since
+then that I have not remembered it? That night you belonged to me and I
+to you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I guess," she said rather wearily, "we don't any of us belong to
+ourselves or to those we love most. We just belong to Fate."</p>
+
+<p>"Cara!" He gripped the rail tightly and his words fell evenly. "Over
+there in America, you admitted to me that you loved me. That was when
+you were not yet Queen of Galavia." He brought himself up with a sudden
+halt. She looked up as frankly as a child.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't admit it," she said. "We only admit things against our will,
+don't we? I told you gladly."</p>
+
+<p>"And now&mdash;!" He held his breath as he looked into her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Now I am the Queen of a hideous little Kingdom," she shuddered. "It
+wouldn't do for me to say it now, would it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" The man leaned again heavily on the rail. The monosyllable was
+eloquent. Impulsively she bent toward him, then caught herself. For a
+moment she looked out at the water undulating under the moon like
+mother-of-pearl on a waving fan. "But it was all right to say I loved
+you then," she went on reflectively, after a pause. "I had a perfect
+right then to tell you that I loved you better than all the small total
+of the world beside, and&mdash;" her voice faltered for a moment&mdash;"and," with
+a musical laugh, she illogically added, "I have nothing to take back of
+what I then said, though of course I can't ever say it again."</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE SENTRY BOX ANSWERS THE KING'S QUERY</h3>
+
+<p>Several days later, Blanco arrived in Puntal shortly after the lazy noon
+hour.</p>
+
+<p>Out of disconnected fragments of fact and memory he had evolved a
+theory. It was a theory as yet immature and half-baked, but one upon
+which he resolved to act, trusting to the lucky outcome of subsequent
+events for the filling in of many gaps, and the making good of many
+deficiencies.</p>
+
+<p>Among the shreds of fragmentary information which Manuel had previously
+stored away in his memory was the fact that one Jos&eacute; Reebeler was a
+capitalist. This was not exclusive information. Every guide and casual
+acquaintance hastened to sing for the newcomer the saga of Reebeler's
+importance. One was informed that this magnate owned the three tourist
+hotels and their acres of vine-covered gardens; that he controlled the
+half-humorous pretense of a street-railway company and that even the
+huge, dominating rock upon which perched the pavilions and casino of the
+Strangers' Club was his property. Still more significant, to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> Blanco's
+reasoning, was the fact that Reebeler, though Puntal-born, was of
+British parentage and that over his house, in the <i>Ruo do Consilhiero</i>,
+floated both British and American flags, while the double coat-of-arms
+above his balcony proclaimed him the consular agent of both governments.
+Here, reasoned Blanco, was a man shielded behind the devices of two
+nations, neither of which was engaged in petty Mediterranean intrigue.
+He would be the last man in Puntal to challenge a suspicious glance from
+the Palace, yet as a man of moneyed enterprise his wish for concessions
+might well give a political coloring to his thoughts. Somewhere he had
+heard that the Strangers' Club aspired to the establishment of a
+gambling Mecca which should rival Monte Carlo in magnitude and that the
+present impediment was the frown of the government upon such a wholesale
+gambling enterprise. It was quite unlikely that the Delgado government
+would discourage a syndicate which could turn a munificent revenue into
+its taxing coffers.</p>
+
+<p>Through a shaded courtyard where a small fountain tinkled, Blanco
+strolled to the Consular office and rapped on the door. He was conducted
+by a native servant to an inner room. Here, while a great blue-bottle
+fly droned and thumped, Reebeler, a heavy Briton with mild eyes,
+sprawled his length in a wicker chair and poured brandy and soda. First
+Blanco represented<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> himself as an adoptive American, touring the world
+and interested in natural resources. When his host had exhausted the
+subject of the wine-grower's battle against the ravages of "<i>oidium
+Tuckeri</i>" and "<i>phyloxera</i>," Blanco picked up a stick of sealing-wax
+from the table and commenced toying with it in a manner of aimlessness.
+He struck match after match and melted pellet after pellet of wax, then
+absently he took from his pocket a gold seal-ring and made, with its
+shield, several impressions on the wax. Reebeler's eyes were half-closed
+as he gazed vacantly at the pigeons cooing and strutting in his
+courtyard.</p>
+
+<p>"See, I have at last got a good impression." The Spaniard idly tossed
+over the scrap of paper upon which he had stamped a half-dozen of Louis
+Delgado's crests from the die of the Comptessa Astaride's ring.</p>
+
+<p>The Consul took the fragment of paper with the manner of one forced by
+politeness to assume an interest in trivialities which bore him.</p>
+
+<p>"See how clearly the device of His Grace stands out in the last
+impression," casually suggested Blanco, then with eyes narrowly bent on
+the other he saw the astonished start as his vis-a-vis realized what
+device had been imprinted on the paper. It was the sign for which he had
+played. When Reebeler's eyes came up questioningly to his own, he, too,
+was looking off through<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> the raised window where the limp curtain barely
+trembled in the light breeze.</p>
+
+<p>"The ring is interesting," suggested the Consul.</p>
+
+<p>"The arms seem to be those of a family of Galavia which is connected
+with Royalty. Did you pick it up in a curio shop? If so, some servant
+must have stolen it."</p>
+
+<p>Blanco stood up. "We waste time fencing, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i> Reebeler," he said,
+"His Grace, Louis Delgado, was held captive by the King until several
+days ago. He then escaped. That escape has been kept secret by the King.
+Only men in the Duke's confidence know of it. I am in the service of His
+Grace and I report to you. In these times we do not carry signed letters
+of introduction&mdash;those of us at least who are not protected behind the
+insignia of Consular office."</p>
+
+<p>There was a long silence. Reebeler, under the influence of brandy and
+perplexity, breathed heavily. Blanco poured from a squat bottle and
+watched the soda bubble in the glass.</p>
+
+<p>Finally the Consul inquired with a show of indifference: "Why do you
+assume that I know anything of this matter?"</p>
+
+<p>Blanco laughed. "I have already told you that I come from His Grace.
+Naturally His Grace knew to whom to commend me. I have frankly given
+myself into your hands by declaring my sentiments. On the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> other hand,
+you decline a similar confidence. You are discreet." He waved his hand.
+"<i>Adios</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"Wait." The Consul stopped him at the door. He paused, cleared his
+throat and then abruptly suggested: "Suppose you return to-morrow at
+six."</p>
+
+<p>The Spaniard bowed. "I only wish you to test me, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>."</p>
+
+<p>That evening Blanco knew that he was being shadowed. The next day he had
+the same sense of being incessantly watched. This was a thing which he
+had expected and for which he was prepared. Promptly at six o'clock he
+returned to the <i>Rue do Consilhiero</i>.</p>
+
+<p>He knew that his greatest danger lay in the possibility of communication
+by the conspirators with the Duke or the Countess, but he had been
+assured that Marie Astaride was in Cairo and it could safely be assumed
+that Delgado would return to Galavia only at the psychological moment.
+If either of these assumptions were false Louis would, of course,
+recognize the description of his kidnapper. The Countess would connect
+the episode of the ring with the former checkmating of her plans. At all
+events, he must chance those possibilities.</p>
+
+<p>This time the Consulate was discreetly shut in by drawn jealousies.
+Within, beside Reebeler himself, were a number of men, all of whom
+narrowly scrutinized the newcomer. Those who were not in uniform
+carried<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> themselves with a cocky smartness that belied their civilian
+clothes. The man from Cadiz returned their gaze with the same
+imperturbable steadiness and the same concealed wariness which he had
+employed when, in the <i>Plaza de Toros</i>, he awaited the charge of the
+bull.</p>
+
+<p>For a time they allowed him to stand in silence under the embarrassing
+batteries of their eyes, then an elderly officer assumed the position of
+spokesman.</p>
+
+<p>"If you are a spy your experience will be brief," he announced.</p>
+
+<p>Blanco smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"That is as it should be, <i>Se&ntilde;or</i>. Spies are not entitled to an old
+age."</p>
+
+<p>"We are going to test you," continued the officer. "We have need of men
+of courage. If, as you claim, the Duke sent you, he must have done so
+because he regarded you as available. If you prove trustworthy, all
+right. If not, it is your misfortune, because in the place where we mean
+to use you you will have no opportunity to betray us, and a very
+excellent opportunity of meeting death. We cannot now communicate with
+His Grace for corroboration, so we shall let you prove yourself. You
+seem to bear no message from the Duke. That has the smell of suspicion."</p>
+
+<p>"On the contrary," retorted the Spaniard, "the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> Duke believed that a man
+who was a stranger might prove of value. I was to take my instructions
+from you."</p>
+
+<p>Blanco wondered vaguely what the future held for him. Evidently their
+acceptance of his services was to bear a close resemblance to
+imprisonment. He could see in the programme small opportunity to serve
+the King. His instructions had been to win into their confidence and do
+what he could.</p>
+
+<hr class='smler' />
+
+<p>Two weeks later, in the small garden giving off from the King's private
+apartments, and perched half-way up the buttressed side of the rock on
+which sat the Palace, Karyl impatiently awaited the coming of Colonel
+Von Ritz. Below he could hear a brass band in the Botanical Gardens and
+out in the bay a German war-ship, decorated for a dance, blazed like a
+set piece in a pyrotechnic display.</p>
+
+<p>There was peace, summer, perfume, in the moonlit air and Karyl smiled
+ironically as he reflected that even the bodyguard so carefully selected
+by Von Ritz might at any moment enter the place and raise the shout of
+"Long live King Louis!"</p>
+
+<p>Leaning over the parapet, he could see one of his fantastically
+uniformed soldiery pacing back and forth before a sentry-box, his musket
+jauntily shouldered,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> and a bayonet glinting at his belt. Karyl stood
+looking, and his lips curled skeptically as he wondered whether the man
+would repel or admit assassins.</p>
+
+<p>Somewhat wearily the King turned and leaned on the stone coping of the
+outer wall. He was at one end where a shadow cloaked him, but he lighted
+a cigarette and the match that flared up threw an orange-red light on
+his face, showing eyes which were lusterless. For a few moments he held
+the match in his hollowed palms, coaxing its blaze in the breeze. Before
+it had burned out there came a sharp report and Karyl heard the spat of
+flattening lead on the masonry at his back. The echo rattled along the
+rocky side of the hill. One of the sentry-boxes had answered his unasked
+question of loyalty.</p>
+
+<p>He waited. There was no rush of feet. No medley of anxiously inquiring
+voices. Others had heard the report, of course, yet no one hastened to
+inquire and investigate. The King, pacing farther back where his
+silhouette was less clearly defined, laughed again, very bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>Finally Von Ritz came. "It seems that we can rely on no one," he said.
+"The Palace Guard had been picked from the few in whom I still believed.
+I had hoped there was a trustworthy remnant."</p>
+
+<p>"One of them has just tried a shot at me with one of my own muskets."
+The King spoke impersonally<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> as though the matter bore only on the
+psychic question of trusting men. "The spot is there on the wall." Then
+he added with bitter whimsicality: "It seems to me, Colonel, that we
+have either very poor marksmen in our service, or else we supply them
+with very poor rifles."</p>
+
+<p>For a moment Von Ritz almost smiled. "I was passing the point as he
+touched the trigger, Your Majesty," he replied with calmness. "I will
+personally vouch for his future harmlessness."</p>
+
+<p>The lighted door, at the same moment, framed the figure of an aide.
+"Your Majesty," he said with a bow, "Monsieur Jusseret prays a brief
+audience."</p>
+
+<p>Karyl turned to Von Ritz, his brows arching interrogation. In answer the
+Colonel wheeled and addressed the officer, who waited statuesquely: "His
+Majesty will not receive Monsieur Jusseret. Any matters of interest to
+France will receive His Majesty's attention when they reach him through
+France's properly accredited ambassador."</p>
+
+<p>Yet five minutes later, Jusseret, escorted by several officers in the
+Galavian uniform, entered the garden through the door of the King's
+private suite. At the monstrous insolence of this forbidden invasion of
+Karyl's privacy, Von Ritz stepped forward. His voice was even colder
+than usual with the chill of mortal fury.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You have evidently misunderstood. The King declined to receive you&mdash;"
+he began.</p>
+
+<p>Karyl turned his head and looked curiously on. The keen, dissipated eyes
+of the sub-rosa diplomat twinkled humorously. For a moment the thin lips
+twisted into a wry smile.</p>
+
+<p>"The King is hardly in a position that warrants declining to receive
+me," he announced with an ironically ceremonious bow to Karyl. He was
+imperturbable and impeccable from his patent-leather pumps to the Legion
+of Honor ribbon in his lapel.</p>
+
+<p>"I offer the King an opportunity to abdicate his throne&mdash;and retain his
+liberty. Not only do I offer him his liberty, but also such an income as
+will make the caf&eacute;s of Paris possible, and the society of other
+gentlemen who are also&mdash;well, let us say retired Royalties. I do this in
+the capacity of a private friend of the Grand Duke Louis Delgado." His
+smile was bland, suave, undisturbed.</p>
+
+<p>Von Ritz took a step forward.</p>
+
+<p>"Escort Monsieur Jusseret to the Palace gates!" he commanded, his eyes
+blazing on the Galavian officers. "The persons of even secret
+Ambassadors are sacred&mdash;otherwise&mdash;" His voice failed him.</p>
+
+<p>The officers cringed back under his glance, but stood supine and
+inactive.</p>
+
+<p>Karyl waited with a cold smile on his lips. His<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> face was pale but there
+was no touch of fear in the expression. For a brief psychological moment
+there was absolute silence, then the Frenchman spoke again. "Gentlemen,
+you are my prisoners." Turning to the Colonel, he added: "You have clung
+to the waning dynasty, Von Ritz, until it fell, but your sword may still
+find service in Galavia. I offer you the opportunity. We have often
+crossed wits. Now, for the first time, I win&mdash;and offer amnesty."</p>
+
+<p>For a moment Von Ritz stood white and trembling with rage, then with his
+open hand he struck the smiling face that seemed to float tauntingly
+before his eyes, and drawing his sword, stepped between the King and the
+suddenly concentrated group of officers who moved frontward with a
+single accord, hands on swords. They spread from a group into a line,
+and the line quickly closed in a circle around the King and the one man
+who remained loyal.</p>
+
+<p>Karyl was himself unarmed. He raised a restraining hand to Von Ritz's
+shoulder, but before he could speak his head sagged forward under the
+impact of some sudden shock&mdash;some blow from behind&mdash;and things went dark
+about him as he crumpled to his knees and fell.</p>
+
+<p>Von Ritz, struggling desperately with a broken blade in his hand was
+slowly overwhelmed by seeming swarms of men. Like a tiger caught in a
+net, his ferocity<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> gradually waned until, bleeding from scratch-wounds
+in a half-dozen places, he felt himself sinking into a haze. His useless
+sword-hilt fell with a clatter to the tiles. As his arms were pinioned
+by several of his captors, he was dreamily aware that music still
+floated up from the Botanical Gardens and the German man-of-war. Nearer
+at hand, Von Ritz heard&mdash;or perhaps dreamed through his stupor that he
+heard&mdash;a voice exclaiming: "Long live King Louis!"</p>
+
+<p>There had been no noise which could have penetrated beyond the King's
+suite. Less than ten minutes had elapsed since the sentinel had been
+pacing below. Jusseret, passing unostentatiously out through the Palace
+gate, glanced at his watch and smiled. It had been excellently managed.</p>
+
+<p>Later, Karyl recovered consciousness to find things little changed. He
+was lying on a leather couch in his own rooms. The windows on the small
+garden still stood open and the moon, riding farther down the west,
+bathed the outer world in shimmer of silver, but at each door stood a
+sentinel.</p>
+
+<p>Karyl remembered that during Louis Delgado's recent captivity he had
+fared in precisely the same manner, neither better nor worse.</p>
+
+<p>The King rose, still a trifle unsteady from the blow he had received,
+and went out into the garden. There was no effort on the part of the
+saluting soldier to halt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> him, and once outside he realized why this
+latitude was allowed him. In addition to the man at the door, a second
+walked back and forth by the outer wall. As Karyl stepped into the
+moonlight this man, himself in the shadow, saluted as his fellow had
+done.</p>
+
+<p>"I have the honor to command the guard, Your Grace," said the man in a
+respectful voice. "It is by the order of His Majesty, King Louis."
+Something in the enunciation puzzled Karyl with a hint of the familiar.</p>
+
+<p>"Why do you remain outside?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Over this wall, any comparatively agile man might make his way to the
+beach, if he succeeded in passing the muskets of the sentry-boxes&mdash;and
+there are boats at the water's edge," explained the soldier with a short
+laugh. "I am responsible for the guard, so I keep this post myself. I
+believe myself incorruptible and men with thrones at stake might make
+tempting offers."</p>
+
+<p>Karyl smiled. "What would you regard as a tempting offer?" he suggested.</p>
+
+<p>For answer the man came into the light and lifted his cap. The King
+looked into the dark eyes of Manuel Blanco. "I won into their confidence
+by the hardest," he explained in a lowered tone, "but after that, I had
+no opportunity to leave them or communicate with you. This was all I
+could do. As it is, I shall be recognized as soon as the Duke arrives."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Blanco raised his voice again in casual conversation and beckoned to the
+sentinel at the door. When the man approached the Spaniard pointed over
+the wall. "Do you see that rock? Is that a figure crouching behind its
+shelter?" he demanded. As the man leaned forward, Manuel suddenly struck
+him heavily at the back of the neck with a loose stone caught up from
+the masonry's coping. The soldier dropped without a sound.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Your Majesty, we must risk it down the rock," prompted the man
+from Cadiz, in hurried, low-pitched words. "Moments are invaluable....
+It is only while I command the guard that there is a chance of your
+escape.... An officer may come at any instant on a round of
+inspection&mdash;my discovery as the Duke's kidnapper is a matter of
+minutes.... I have been watched and tested in a hundred ways; it was
+only to-day that I convinced them of my fanatic zeal."</p>
+
+<p>Blanco hurriedly gave his cap and cape to the King, donning himself the
+blouse of Karyl's undress uniform. Then the two crept cautiously down
+the rifted face of the cliff, holding the shadow of the crevices. One
+sentry-box they passed safely, and finally they edged by the second
+unnoticed. They had negotiated the hundred feet of descent and stood
+pressed against the bottom, hugging the black shadow. They were wait<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span>ing
+an opportunity to slip across a narrow sliver of intervening moonlight
+to the beach and the boat which lay at the water's edge.</p>
+
+<p>Occasional lazy clouds drifted across the sky. The two refugees, goaded
+by the realization that every wasted second cut their desperate hope
+more and more to a vanishing point, watched the fleecy scraps of mist
+skim by the moon afar off without veiling its face. Then for a short
+moment a shred of silver-tipped cloud cut off the radiance. Blanco
+seized the King's arm in a wordless signal. Karyl and the bull-fighter
+raced across to the boat that lay at the water's edge. In a moment more
+it was afloat and they were at the oars. The moon emerged and at the
+same instant an outcry came from above. The musket of the man in the
+lower sentry-box barked with a blatant reverberation. One of the figures
+in the boat drooped forward and sagged limply over his oars. The other
+only redoubled his efforts. And then again, like the curtain of a
+theater, a cloud dropped downward and quenched the moon and the sea and
+the rock in impartial obscurity.</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2>
+
+<h3>"SCARABS OF A DEAD DYNASTY"</h3>
+
+<p>Since the anchor had been weighed at Naples, the days had passed
+uneventfully for the indolently cruising <i>Isis</i> with no word from
+Galavia. But at last the operator caught his call and made ready to
+receive. The message consisted of one word, and the word was "Cairo."</p>
+
+<p>Cara, with no suspicion of what was transpiring in Puntal, beguiled by
+the spell of smooth seas and <i>dolce-far-niente</i> softness of sky, was
+once more the frank and charming companion of the American days.</p>
+
+<p>The single word of the Marconigram had left the American in perplexity.
+Evidently either Karyl or Von Ritz was to meet them at Cairo. Probably
+Cairo instead of Alexandria had been designated because the King had
+taken into consideration the possible danger from the plague at the
+seaport. He told Cara only that Karyl would join the vacation party
+there and kept to himself the reservation that his coming probably meant
+disaster. Yet when they reached Cairo there was no news awaiting them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It was the night of a confetti f&ecirc;te at Shephard's Hotel. Among the trees
+of the gardens were ropes of lights and the soft color-spots of Chinese
+lanterns. Branches glittered with incandescent fruit of brilliant
+colors. Flags hung between the fronds of the palms and the plumes of the
+acacias, and among the pleasure-seekers from East and West of Suez fell
+pelting showers of confetti.</p>
+
+<p>After dinner Cara and the ladies of her party had withdrawn to their
+rooms to prepare for the gay warfare of the gardens. Benton, awaiting
+them in the rotunda, lounged on one of the low divans which circle the
+walls of the octagonal chamber, beneath carved lattices and Moorish
+panels; a cigarette between his fingers and a small cup of black coffee
+on the low tabouret at his elbow.</p>
+
+<p>The place invited lazy ease, and Benton was as indolent among his
+cushions as the spirit of brooding Egypt, but his eyes, watching the
+stairs down which she would come, remained alert.</p>
+
+<p>Hearing his name called in a voice which rang familiarly, he glanced up
+to recognize the smiling face of young Harcourt, his chance acquaintance
+of Capri. He set down the small Turkish cup and rose.</p>
+
+<p>"Come back to the bar and fortify yourself against the thin red line of
+British soldiery out there in the gardens. You can get a ripping
+highball for eight<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> <i>piastres</i>," laughed the newcomer. But Benton
+declined.</p>
+
+<p>"I am waiting for ladies," he explained. "I'll see you again."</p>
+
+<p>"Sure you will." Harcourt paused. "I dash up the Nile in the morning,
+going to do Karnak and Luxor&mdash;you know, the usual stunt. Been busy all
+day buying scarabs and mummied cats, but I want to see you sometime
+to-night. By the way, I've heard something&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"All right. See you later." Benton spoke hurriedly, for he had caught
+the flash of a slender figure in white on the stairs.</p>
+
+<p>In the war of the confetti, man makes war on woman and woman on man,
+while over the field reigns a universal and democratic acquaintanceship.</p>
+
+<p>Cara was on vacation, and a child&mdash;bent on forgetting that to-morrow
+must come. It was characteristic of her that she should enter into the
+spirit of the occasion with all the abandon it suggested.</p>
+
+<p>Benton stood by as she gradually gave ground before the attacks of a
+stout, gray-templed Briton, a General of the Army of Occupation. She
+fought gallantly, but he stood doggedly before her handfuls of confetti,
+shaking the paper chips out of his eyes and mustache like some
+invincible old St. Bernard, and her slender Mandarin-coated figure
+retreated slowly before his red and medal-decked jacket.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Watch out!" cried Benton, who followed her retreat, forbidden by the
+rules of warfare from giving aid, other than counsel, "The British Army
+is putting you in a bad strategic position."</p>
+
+<p>She had retreated across the flower-beds and stood with her back to the
+rim of the fountain. Her box of confetti was empty and Benton also was
+without ordnance supplies.</p>
+
+<p>Young Harcourt suddenly stepped forward from the crowd.</p>
+
+<p>"Here!" he cried with a smile of frank worship, as he tendered a fresh
+box of confetti. "Take this and remember Bunker Hill!"</p>
+
+<p>The British officer bowed.</p>
+
+<p>"I surrender," he said, "because you violate the rules of war. Your
+confetti is not deadly and your tactics are mediocre, but your eyes use
+lyddite."</p>
+
+<p>Inside Cara went to her room to wrestle with the tiny chips of
+multi-colored paper that covered her and filled her hair. In the hall,
+Harcourt came again to Benton.</p>
+
+<p>"By Jove, she is a wonder," he said. Then he slipped his arm through
+Benton's and led him aside. The American followed supinely.</p>
+
+<p>"Benton, do you remember the talk we had about Romance?"</p>
+
+<p>Benton looked quickly up to forestall any possible<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> personality to which
+he might object, but Harcourt continued.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know that chap, Martin&mdash;he doesn't call himself Browne now&mdash;has
+turned up again? He's been here. Not ragged this time, but well groomed
+and in high feather. To-day he left to go back to Galavia."</p>
+
+<p>"Back to Galavia?" Benton repeated the words in astonishment. "What do
+you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>Harcourt laughed. "The scales have turned and his Grand Duke is to be
+King after all."</p>
+
+<p>Benton seized the boy by the elbow and steered him into one of the empty
+writing-rooms.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, for God's sake, what do you mean?" he demanded.</p>
+
+<p>"That's all," replied the young tourist. "They've switched Kings. Oh, it
+was so quietly done that the people of the city of Puntal don't know yet
+it's happened. The King died suddenly and Louis will ascend his throne."</p>
+
+<p>"The King died suddenly!" Benton echoed the words blankly. "I don't
+understand."</p>
+
+<p>"Neither do I. But Martin said the King was taken prisoner and tried to
+escape. He was shot."</p>
+
+<p>"How did Martin know?" asked Benton slowly, trying to realize the full
+import of the boy's chatter.</p>
+
+<p>"The news hasn't reached here, generally speaking. He said that the
+King's death has not even been made<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> public there, but the Countess
+Astaride has been stopping here. Martin himself was in her party and he
+helped her to decipher the news from the Duke's code-telegram." He
+paused. "However," he added, "that may not interest you. The story
+probably bored you at first, but having told you the original tale, I
+had to add the sequel. What I really wanted to ask you, is to present me
+to the wonderful American girl. You will, won't you?"</p>
+
+<p>Benton's back was turned to the window. He wiped his forehead with his
+handkerchief and stared at nothing.</p>
+
+<p>"You will, won't you?" repeated the boy.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, of course," Benton replied mechanically. "I shall ask
+permission to do so."</p>
+
+<p>Outside on the terraced veranda, where one sips tea and overlooks one of
+the most varied human tides that flows through any street of the world,
+Benton and Cara sat at a table near the edge&mdash;the man wondering how he
+could tell her. Fakirs with spangled shawls from Assouit, bead
+necklaces, ebony walking-sticks, scarabs and souvenir postcards jostled
+on the sidewalk to pass their wares over the railing. Fat Arab guides
+with red fezes and the noisy jargon of half-mastered French and English
+discussed to-morrow's journeys with industrious globe-trotters.</p>
+
+<p>On the tiles squatted a juggler from India. Under<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> his white turban his
+glittering, beady eyes appraised the generosity of his audience as he
+arranged his flat baskets, his live rabbits and his hooded cobras for an
+exhibition of mercenary magic.</p>
+
+<p>Along the street, heralded with tom-toms, came a procession of lurching
+camels, jogging donkeys, rattling carriages, acrobats leading dog-faced
+apes and trailing Arabs in fezes&mdash;the pomp and pageantry of a pilgrim
+returning from Mecca. Motors, victorias, detachments of cavalry swept by
+in unbroken and spectacular show.</p>
+
+<p>Benton sat stiffly with his jaw muscles tightly drawn and his eyes
+dazed, looking at the girl across the table.</p>
+
+<p>She turned from the street, eyes still sparkling with the reflected
+variety of the picture that hodge-podged Occident and Orient,
+telescoping the dead ages with to-day.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I love things so," she laughed. "I'm as foolish as a child about
+things that are new."</p>
+
+<p>With another glance at the shifting tide, she added seriously: "And
+every silly Oriental of them all is free to go where he pleases&mdash;to do
+what he pleases. I would give everything for freedom, and they have
+it&mdash;and don't value it!"</p>
+
+<p>Then she saw the hard strain of his face. Slowly her own eyes lost the
+glow of pleasurable interest and saddened with the realization of being
+barred back from life.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The man bent forward. His fingers tightened on the edge of the table
+with a clutch which drove the blood back under his nails. It was a hard
+fight to retain his self-control. His question broke from him in a low,
+almost savage voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Cara!" he demanded. "Cara, is there any price too high to pay for
+happiness?"</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" The intensity of his eyes held hers, and for a
+moment she feared for his reason. Her own question was low and
+steadying, but he answered in an unnatural voice.</p>
+
+<p>"I hardly know&mdash;perhaps I have less right to speak now than
+ever&mdash;perhaps more. I don't know, I only know that I love you&mdash;and that
+the world seems reeling."</p>
+
+<p>Something caught in his throat.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm a cur to talk of it now. I want to think of&mdash;of&mdash;something else. I
+ought to think only what a splendid sort he was&mdash;but I can realize only
+one thing&mdash;I love you."</p>
+
+<p>"Only one thing," she repeated softly. Then as she looked again into the
+feverishly bright eyes under his scowl, the meaning which lay back of
+his words broke suddenly upon her.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Was</i>!" she echoed in startled comprehension. "<i>Was</i>!&mdash;did you say
+was?"</p>
+
+<p>The man remained silent.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You mean that&mdash;?" she said the three words very slowly and stopped,
+unable to go on.</p>
+
+<p>"You mean&mdash;that&mdash;he&mdash;?" With a strong effort she added the one word,
+then gave up the effort to shape the question. Her hand closed
+convulsively.</p>
+
+<p>Benton slowly nodded his head. The girl leaned forward toward him. Her
+lips parted, her eyes widened.</p>
+
+<p>The next instant they were misty with tears. Not hypocritical tears for
+an unloved husband, but sincere tears for a generous friend.</p>
+
+<p>"Delgado escaped," he explained simply. "Karyl was captured." Again he
+spoke in few words. It seemed that he could not manage long sentences.
+"Then he tried to escape," he added.</p>
+
+<p>She pressed her fingers to her temples, and leaned forward, speaking
+rapidly in a half-whisper that sometimes broke.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it's not fair! It's not fair! I want to think only how splendid he
+was&mdash;how unselfish&mdash;how brave! I want to think of him always as he
+deserves, lovingly, fondly&mdash;and I've got to remember forever how little
+I could give him in return!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I guess he was the whitest man&mdash;" Benton stopped, then blurted out
+like a boy. "Oh, what's the use of my sitting here eulogizing him. I
+guess he doesn't need my praises. I guess he can stand on his own
+record."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It's monstrous!" she said, and then she, too, fell back on silence.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly she rose to her feet, carried one hand to her heart and swayed
+uncertainly for a moment, steadying herself with one hand on the table.</p>
+
+<p>The man turned, following her half-hypnotic gaze, in time to see Colonel
+Von Ritz bending over her hand. With recognition, Benton started up,
+then his jaw dropped and, doubting his own sanity, he fell back into his
+chair and sat gazing with blank eyes.</p>
+
+<p>At Von Ritz's elbow stood Pagratide.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly Benton came to his feet, his ears ringing. Then as Karyl turned
+from the girl and held out his hand to him, the American heard, as one
+listening through the roaring of a fever, some question about affairs in
+Galavia.</p>
+
+<p>He heard Karyl answer, and though the words seemed to come from
+somewhere beyond Port Said, he recognized that the former King tried to
+speak in a matter-of-fact voice.</p>
+
+<p>"I have no Kingdom. Louis took it."</p>
+
+<p>Karyl had held out his left hand. The right was bound down in a sling.
+But these things were all vague to Benton because it seemed that the
+pilgrim's tom-toms were beating inside his brain, and beating out of
+time. He could see that Karyl's eyes also were weary and lusterless.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Turning with an excuse for travel-stain to be removed, Karyl halted.</p>
+
+<p>"Benton," he said. There he fell silent. "Benton," he said again,
+forcing himself to speak in a voice not far from the breaking point,
+"Blanco&mdash;Blanco is dead."</p>
+
+<p>He turned on his heel and went into the hotel.</p>
+
+<p>Blanco dead! For a moment Benton felt an insane desire to rush after
+Karyl and demand his life for Blanco's. Some delirious accusation that
+this man cost him every dear thing in life seemed fighting for
+expression and reprisal, then he realized that the <i>toreador</i> had won
+his way into Pagratide's affection as well as his own. Tears came to his
+eyes for an instant. He focused his gaze on a cigarette-shop across the
+street.</p>
+
+<p>"Lady!"</p>
+
+<p>A grinning Egyptian face, surmounted by a red fez, showed itself over
+the railing. The girl started violently and seemed for a moment on the
+edge of hysteria. She laughed unnaturally. Thus encouraged, the
+Bedouin's grin broadened until it radiated good-humor across the swarthy
+visage from cheek-bone to cheek-bone.</p>
+
+<p>"Nice scarabs, lady! Only five <i>piastres</i>&mdash;only one shilling," he
+spieled. "Scarabs of a dead dynasty. <i>Tr&egrave;s antique</i>."</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2>
+
+<h3>IN WHICH KINGS AND COMMONERS DISCUSS LOVE</h3>
+
+<p>In the gardens of the hotel, the paths lay ankle-deep in scattered
+confetti. Already the scores of lights were going out and those that
+remained shone on the wreckage of an entertainment ended.</p>
+
+<p>Cara had gone to her rooms. In his own, at a window commanding the
+garden, Benton sat in an attitude of lethargic dejection, staring down
+on the lingering illuminations. His brain still swirled. A dozen times
+he told himself that matters were precisely as they had been; that the
+developments of the evening had brought no change, save a momentary
+belief in a mistaken rumor and a few wild dreams. When he had waited in
+the rotunda for Cara, he had known Karyl to be living. He knew it now,
+yet it seemed as though his life-rival had died and come again to life.
+It seemed, too, as though his own prison doors had swung open, and while
+he stood on the free threshold had slammed inward upon him, sweeping him
+back, broken and bruised with their clanging momentum.</p>
+
+<p>To-morrow he must go away.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Benton looked at his watch. It was after four o'clock.</p>
+
+<p>Then a knock came on the door. Benton did not respond. He feared that
+young Harcourt, belated and flushed with brandy-acid-soda, might have
+seen the light of his transom and paused for gossip. The thought he
+could not endure. Again he heard and ignored the knock, then the door
+opened slowly, and turning his head, he recognized Karyl on his
+threshold.</p>
+
+<p>Just at that moment the American could not have spoken. He had come to a
+point of pent-up emotion which can move only by breaking dams. He
+pointed to a chair, but Karyl shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>For a while neither spoke. Karyl's hair was rumpled; his eyes darkly
+ringed, and the line of his lips close set. Benton glanced out of his
+window. Across the gardens the wall was growing blanker, as lighted
+panes fell dark. One window, which he knew was Cara's, still showed a
+parallelogram of light behind its drawn shade. Karyl in passing followed
+the glance. He, too, recognized the window.</p>
+
+<p>At last the Galavian spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Can you spare me a half-hour?"</p>
+
+<p>Benton nodded. He would have preferred any other time. He needed
+opportunity for self-collection.</p>
+
+<p>Again Karyl spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Benton, I might as well be brief. There are two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> of us. In this world
+there is room for only one. One of us is an interloper."</p>
+
+<p>The American felt the blood rush to his face; he felt it pound at the
+back of his eyeballs, at the base of his brain. An instinct of fury,
+which was only half-sane, flooded him. Red spots danced before his eyes.
+The other had spoken slowly, almost gently, yet he could read only
+challenge in the words, and the challenge was one he hungered to accept.</p>
+
+<p>He made a tremendous effort for self-mastery and rose slowly, turning a
+white face on his visitor.</p>
+
+<p>"You told me," he said, enunciating each word with distinct
+deliberateness, "that you would fight me, when your throne freed you.
+You begin promptly. I am here, but&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I think you misunderstand me," interrupted Karyl.</p>
+
+<p>"But," went on Benton, ignoring the interruption, "neither of us is free
+to fight. If we were, Pagratide, you may guess how gladly I'd put it to
+the issue. Good God, man, what could I lose?"</p>
+
+<p>"Wait," said the late King of Galavia. "I have come here to talk with
+you, Benton, in a way which is unspeakably hard. Can you not make the
+same effort to lay aside passion that I am making?"</p>
+
+<p>The American turned and paced the floor.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment more there was the same embarrassed silence between them,
+then the Galavian continued,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> measuring his words, speaking with
+desperately studied effort to eliminate the feeling that struggled to
+the surface.</p>
+
+<p>"You love my wife."</p>
+
+<p>"And shall," replied the American in the same calculated, colorless
+voice, "while I live."</p>
+
+<p>"I, too," said Pagratide. "Therefore we must talk."</p>
+
+<p>"Wait." Benton raised a hand. "If we are to talk at all along these
+lines, Pagratide, there is only one way in which it can be done."</p>
+
+<p>"And that is what?"</p>
+
+<p>"That each of us, throughout, talks with only one thought in mind: her
+happiness; that one strip aside all conventions and talk as two utterly
+naked souls might talk."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," said Karyl simply. "Otherwise I should not have suggested
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"Then," began Benton, "up to this point we are agreed."</p>
+
+<p>The King, despite his pallor, smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid you still don't understand me. I haven't come to murder you,
+or to invite murder, Benton. It would not help."</p>
+
+<p>"You have just said that one of us is an interloper. Presumably you have
+come to decide which one it is."</p>
+
+<p>Karyl shook his head.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Benton, that point has been decided. Not by you or me, but it is
+decided."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't understand you," admitted the American.</p>
+
+<p>His visitor studied the few remaining lights in the garden beneath.</p>
+
+<p>"I am no longer a King. I am an outcast. If I ever had a claim before
+God, it passed with my Crown. I could hold her now only by brutality. I
+told you I would free her and fight for her, but I saw her eyes
+to-night.... Benton, it is I who am the interloper!"</p>
+
+<p>No answer came to Benton's tongue. Pagratide did not seem to expect one.
+After a moment he went on, with the manner of one who had thought out
+what he was to say, and who compels himself to go through with the
+prepared recital.</p>
+
+<p>"If there is no throne, I must eliminate myself.... But for the time
+being I have given Von Ritz my parole.... The game is not yet quite
+played out.... He and Cara agree that I must play it to the end. After
+that there will be time to remedy mistakes." He paused.</p>
+
+<p>"Pagratide," said the American slowly, "you are talking wildly. At all
+events, while everything impossible has happened to us, I think we can,
+after all shake hands."</p>
+
+<p>Karyl extended his own.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I have spoken as I have," he went on, "because it was necessary to be
+frank. Meanwhile I must ask you to place me under yet another
+obligation. There is one safe place for her. Will you take us with you
+on the yacht, and cruise in unfrequented ports, until Von Ritz reports
+to me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Where is Von Ritz?"</p>
+
+<p>"Gone back to Alexandria. He still cherishes hopes of a restoration. He
+wishes to return to Galavia."</p>
+
+<p>"Can he return safely?"</p>
+
+<p>Karyl shrugged his shoulders. "His conduct can hardly be construed as a
+political offense. He will be under suspicion, but all Europe would
+resent any injury to Von Ritz."</p>
+
+<p>"The <i>Isis</i> is, of course, at your command."</p>
+
+<hr class='smler' />
+
+<p>In the same rooms where Karyl and his father had often consulted with
+Von Ritz on affairs of state, Louis Delgado sat in conference with a
+foreigner, who had no acknowledged position in the councils of any
+government, yet whose mind and execution had affected many. The
+foreigner was Monsieur Jusseret.</p>
+
+<p>"Why," began the new Monarch testily, "do you believe that there should
+be delay in proclaiming myself? I shall feel safer with the Crown
+actually upon my head."</p>
+
+<p>The Frenchman sat reflectively silent, his slim fingers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> spread, tip to
+tip, his elbows on the arms of the chair in which he lounged.</p>
+
+<p>"Your Majesty is not a fisherman?" he suavely inquired. Louis rose
+impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>"You know that I have no interest in such sports. Why do you ask?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is unfortunate," mused the Master Intriguer, "since if Your Majesty
+were, you would realize the inadvisability of an effort to land the game
+fish too abruptly when he takes the hook. Your Majesty, however,
+realizes that it is wiser to eat ripe fruit than green fruit."</p>
+
+<p>The King poured himself a glass of wine, which he gulped down nervously.</p>
+
+<p>"You speak in riddles&mdash;always in riddles. What is unripe? The blow is
+struck, I am in possession. What is to be gained by waiting?"</p>
+
+<p>Jusseret raised his brows.</p>
+
+<p>"What blow is struck, Your Majesty? You know and I know that you occupy
+the Palace. Europe in general supposes that you have been here for some
+time as the guest of Karyl. Europe does not yet officially know that
+Karyl has vacated the throne. The governments agreed to recognize you,
+but the governments relied upon your adequately disposing of your royal
+kinsman. Yet he is now at large."</p>
+
+<p>The Pretender wheeled suddenly on the calm gentle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span>man sitting indolently
+in his chair. The Pretender's face paled.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean, Monsieur Jusseret, that after enticing me into this mad
+enterprise you now purpose to abandon me?" The coward's terror added
+excitement to the questioning voice.</p>
+
+<p>Jusseret smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"By no means," he assured. "But Your Majesty must now play your part. I
+merely counsel holding the reins of government lightly&mdash;as Regent&mdash;until
+it is logically advisable to grasp them tightly as King. Karyl escaped.
+The man shot proves to be an unknown who had changed coats with the
+King. Ostensibly, His late Majesty is traveling. You are his
+representative. Now, if His Majesty and the Queen should fail to return
+from their journeyings, your position would be stronger."</p>
+
+<p>Louis sank into a chair, deeply agitated. "I fear this man Von Ritz more
+deeply than Karyl."</p>
+
+<p>"Naturally," was Jusseret's dry comment. "But Your Majesty will leave
+Von Ritz alone. I also, should like to see him disposed of&mdash;but leave
+him alone, or you will incur Europe's displeasure."</p>
+
+<p>"What shall I do?" The question came in a note of plaintive
+helplessness.</p>
+
+<p>The Frenchman shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"If you ask my counsel, I should say send for one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> Martin. He has been
+of some service. He is a man of action. He is called the English Jackal.
+I should suggest&mdash;" He paused.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes&mdash;you would suggest what?" eagerly prompted the new King.</p>
+
+<p>"Really, Your Majesty, you should act more promptly on hints. Diplomats
+cannot diagram their suggestions. I should suggest that the English
+Jackal also travel, with the understanding that if he should return to
+Galavia after the death of the late King and Queen&mdash;and that shortly&mdash;he
+may expect certain titles and recognition at Court, but if he returns
+before their death, he need expect nothing." Jusseret lighted a
+cigarette.</p>
+
+<p>The Pretender sat silent, frightened, vacillating.</p>
+
+<p>"And," went on Jusseret calmly, "there was one other suggestion which I
+shall make, if Your Majesty will permit me the liberty."</p>
+
+<p>"What?"</p>
+
+<p>"Touching Your Majesty's marriage&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;Marie is also in some hurry about that. What is the devilish
+haste? One can be married at any time."</p>
+
+<p>Monsieur Jusseret rose and began drawing on his gloves.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course if Your Majesty sees fit, a morganatic marriage with the
+Countess Astaride would be entirely<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> advisable&mdash;but for the Queen of
+Galavia, Europe will insist on a stronger alliance; on a union with more
+royal blood."</p>
+
+<p>Louis came to his feet in astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>"You dare suggest that?" he exclaimed. "You, who have been her ally and
+used her aid!"</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon me&mdash;I suggest nothing. I repeat to Your Majesty, as the very
+humble mouthpiece of France, the sentiment of the governments, without
+whose recognition your dynasty can hardly stand."</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV</h2>
+
+<h3>ABDUL SAID BEY EFFECTS A RESCUE</h3>
+
+<p>Martin, tall and aggressively British, from the black silk tassel on his
+red fez to the battered puttees and brown boots that had once come out
+of Bond Street, stood watching the <i>Isis</i> outlined against the opposite
+walls of the Yildiz Kiosk.</p>
+
+<p>Few pleasure-craft call at Constantinople.</p>
+
+<p>"If you had not, as usual, been so damned late"&mdash;he turned with a
+gesture of raw impatience to the heavy-faced <i>Osmanli</i> at his side&mdash;"I
+could have pointed them out to you on Galata Bridge. As it is, they have
+returned to the yacht."</p>
+
+<p>"May Heaven never again thwart your wish with delay, Martin <i>Effendi</i>."
+The Turk spoke placidly, his oily voice soft as a benediction, "I was
+delayed by pigs, and sons of pigs! Your annoyance is my desolating
+sorrow, yet"&mdash;he waved his hand with a bland gesture&mdash;"I am but the
+servant of His Majesty, the Sultan&mdash;whom Allah preserve&mdash;and the
+official is frequently detained."</p>
+
+<p>"What is done, is done. <i>Bismillah</i>&mdash;no matter!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> The Englishman curbed
+his annoyance and spoke as one resigned. "What now remains is this: We
+must see them, and you must learn to recognize them. You understand?"</p>
+
+<p>The other bowed in unperturbed assent.</p>
+
+<p>"All Europeans," he suggested, "dine at the Pera Palace Hotel&mdash;it is the
+Mecca of their hunger."</p>
+
+<p>To the white man's voice returned the ring of asperity. "And at the Pera
+Palace, we shall not only see, but be seen. Likewise unless we have a
+care in this enterprise, we shall not only eat, but be eaten. A man may
+stare at whom he chooses on Galata Bridge."</p>
+
+<p>"When I dine in a public place"&mdash;the <i>Osmanli</i> smiled cunningly from the
+depths of small pig-like eyes&mdash;"I shield myself behind a screen. Thus
+may I observe unobserved."</p>
+
+<p>The sun had set, but the yellow after-glow still lingered in the sky
+behind Stamboul as the two men stood looking toward Galata Bridge, where
+their quarry had escaped them, and across the Golden Horn.</p>
+
+<p>A pyramid of domes, flanked by a pair of slender minarets, daintily
+proclaimed the Mosque Yeni-Djami against the fading amber. On Galata
+Bridge itself, the day-long tide of medleyed life was thinning. Where
+there had been an eddying current of turbans and <i>tarbooshes</i>,
+bespeaking all the tribes and styles which fore<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span>gather at the meeting
+place of two Continents and two seas, there were now only the belated
+few.</p>
+
+<p>To the jaded imagination of Martin <i>Effendi</i> and his companion, Abdul
+Said <i>Bey</i>, the falling of night over the quadruple city, smothering
+more than a million souls under a single blanket of blackness, made no
+appeal. They were watching a yacht.</p>
+
+<p>Over the Pera roofs swept flocks of crows to roost in their garden
+rookeries at the center of the town. Across the harbor water, now too
+gloomy to reveal its thousands of jelly-fish, drifted the complaining
+cries of the loons. Then as the occasional city lamps began to twinkle,
+making the darkness murkier by their inadequacy, there arose from the
+twisting ways of Pera, Galata and Stamboul the night howling of thirty
+thousand dogs.</p>
+
+<p>At length Martin held up the dial of his watch to the uncertain light.</p>
+
+<p>"I must be off," he announced. "Jusseret is waiting at the Pera Palace.
+Don't fail us at seven-thirty."</p>
+
+<p>The tireless features of Abdul Said <i>Bey</i> once more shaped themselves
+into a deliberate smile. "Of a surety, <i>Effendi</i>. May your virtues ever
+find favor in the sight of Allah."</p>
+
+<p>For a moment the pig-like eyes followed the well-knit figure of the
+Englishman as it went swinging along<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> the street. Then the Turk turned
+and lost himself in the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>The Pera Palace Hotel stands in the European quarter of the town. To its
+doors your steps are guided by a trail of shop signs in English, French,
+German and Greek, among which appear only occasional characters in the
+native Arabic.</p>
+
+<p>Almost immediately after Cara, Pagratide and Benton had seated
+themselves in the dining-room that evening, Arab servants secluded a
+corner table, close to their own, behind <i>mushrabieh</i> screens. The party
+for whom this distinguished aloofness had been arranged made its
+entrance through an unseen door, but the voices indicated that several
+were at table there. The waiter who served this table apart might have
+testified that one was an Englishman, wearing in addition to European
+evening dress the native <i>tarboosh</i>, or fez. Also, that against his
+white shirt-front glittered the Star of Galavia. The second diner wore
+one of the many elaborate uniforms that signify Ottoman officialdom. His
+eyes were small and pig-like, and as he talked no feature or gesture at
+the table beyond escaped his appraising scrutiny.</p>
+
+<p>There was one other behind the <i>mushrabieh</i> screens. The niceties of his
+dress were Parisian, punctilious, perfect. In his right lapel was the
+unostentatious button of the <i>Legion d'Honneur</i>.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The Englishman spoke. "Much of your story, <i>Monsieur</i> Jusseret, is
+familiar to me. It will, however, prove interesting <i>in toto</i>, I
+daresay, to our friend Abdul Said <i>Bey</i>, whom Allah preserve."</p>
+
+<p>There was a murmur of compliment from the Turk, adding his assurance of
+interest, and the Frenchman took up the thread of his narrative.</p>
+
+<p>"We supposed that Karyl was dead&mdash;the Throne of Galavia clear for
+Delgado. Alas, we were in error!" The speaker shook his head in deep
+regret, as, turning to Martin, he added:</p>
+
+<p>"It was a pardonable mistake. Let us hope the announcement was merely
+premature." He lifted his wine-glass with the air of one proposing a
+toast. "It becomes our duty to make that statement true. <i>Messieurs</i>,
+our success!"</p>
+
+<p>When the three glasses had been set down, the Englishman questioned:
+"How did it occur?"</p>
+
+<p>In the smooth manner of an after-dinner narrative, Jusseret explained
+the occurrences of the night when he had brought his plans to an almost
+successful termination. He told his story with charm of recital, verve
+and humor, and gave it withal a touch of vivid realism, so that even his
+auditors, long since graduated from the stage where a tale of
+adventurous undertaking thrilled them, yet listened with profound
+interest.</p>
+
+<p>With the salad Jusseret sighed regretfully.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I rather plume myself on one quality of my work, <i>Monsieur</i> Martin. I
+rarely overlook an integral detail. I, however, find myself growing
+alarmingly faulty of judgment."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed!" The Englishman was not greatly engrossed in the
+autobiographical phases of Jusseret's diplomatic felonies.</p>
+
+<p>"I regret to acknowledge it, but it is, alas, true. I reflected that the
+world would resent harsh treatment of a man like Von Ritz. He had
+committed no crime. We could not charge treason against a government not
+yet born. I opposed even exile. He immediately rejoined his fleeing
+King&mdash;and has since returned to Puntal, where one can only surmise what
+mischief he agitates. It may be as well to consider his future."</p>
+
+<p>"And now," callously supplemented the Englishman, "our new King feels an
+uncertainty of tenure so long as the old King lives, and I am rushed
+after this refugee Monarch with brief instructions to dispose of him."</p>
+
+<p>There was a certain eloquence in the shrug of Jusseret's shoulders.
+"<i>Messieurs</i>, we have wrecked Karyl's dynasty, but it still devolves
+upon us in workmanlike fashion to clear away the d&eacute;bris."</p>
+
+<p>Martin leaned forward and put his query like an attorney cross-examining
+a witness.</p>
+
+<p>"Where was this Queen when the King was taken?"</p>
+
+<p>"That," replied Jusseret, "is a question to be put<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> to Von Ritz or
+Karyl. It would appear that Von Ritz suspected the end and, wise as he
+is in the cards of diplomacy, resolved that should his King be taken, he
+would still hold his Queen in reserve. That Kingdom does not hold to the
+Salic Law&mdash;a Queen may reign! And so you see, my colleagues," he
+summarized, "we, representing the plans of Europe, find ourselves
+confronted with questions unanswered, and with matters yet to do."</p>
+
+<p>Martin's voice was matter-of-fact. "After all," he observed, "what are
+the odds, where the King was or where the Queen was at a given time in
+the past, so long as we jolly well know where they are to-night?"
+Turning to the Sultan's officer, he spoke rapidly. "You understand what
+is expected?" He pointed one hand to the party from the yacht. "The man
+nearest us is the King who failed to remain dead. That failure is
+curable if you play your game." He paused. "The lady," he added, "has
+the misfortune to have been the Queen of Galavia. You understand, my
+brother?"</p>
+
+<p>The Turk rose, pushing back his chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Your words are illuminating." He spoke with a profound bow. "In serving
+you, I shall bring honor to my children, and my children's children."
+With the Turkish gesture of farewell, his fingers touching heart, lips
+and forehead, he betook himself backward to the door.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Two hours later, alighting from a rickety victoria by the landing-stage,
+Cara made her way between the two men, toward the waiting launch from
+the <i>Isis</i>. Filthy looking Arabs, to the number of a dozen, rose out of
+the shadows and crowded about the trio, pleading piteously for
+<i>backshish</i> in the name of Allah. The party found itself forced back
+towards the carriage, and Benton fingered the grip of the revolver in
+his pocket as the other hand held the girl's arm. At the same moment
+there was a sudden clamor of shouting and the patter of running feet.
+Then the throng of beggars dropped back under the pelting blows from
+heavy <i>naboots</i> in the hands of <i>kavasses</i>.</p>
+
+<p>An instant later a stout Turk in official uniform broke through the
+confusion, shouting imprecations.</p>
+
+<p>"Back, you children of swine!" he declaimed. "Back to your mires, you
+pigs! Do you dare to affront the great <i>Pashas</i>?" Then, turning
+obsequiously, he bowed with profound apology. "It is a bitter sorrow
+that you should be annoyed," he assured them, "but it is over."</p>
+
+<p>"To whom have we the honor of expressing our thanks?" smiled Pagratide.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Osmanli</i> responded with a deprecating gesture of self-effacement.</p>
+
+<p>"To one of the least of men," he said. "I am<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> called Abdul Said <i>Bey</i>. I
+am the humble servant of His Majesty, the Sultan&mdash;whom Allah preserve."</p>
+
+<p>As the launch put off, the elliptical figure of Abdul Said <i>Bey</i>, on the
+lowest step of the landing, speeded its departure with a gesture of
+ceremonious farewell&mdash;fingers sweeping heart, lips and forehead. "If you
+go to shop in Stamboul," he shouted after them, "have a care. The pigs
+will cheat you&mdash;all save Mohammed Abbas."</p>
+
+<p>When the reflected lights of the launch shimmered in vague downward
+shafts at a distance, he turned and the scattered throng of beggars
+regathered to group themselves about him with no trace of fear.</p>
+
+<p>"You will know them when you see them in the bazaars?" he demanded. "You
+shall be taught in time what is expected&mdash;likewise <i>bastinadoed</i> upon
+your bare soles if you fail. Now you have only to remember the faces of
+the Infidels. Go!" He swept out his hand and the Bedouins scattered like
+rats into a dozen dark places.</p>
+
+<hr class='smler' />
+
+<p>If the panorama of Constantinople fades from a lurid silhouette to a
+sooty monotone by night, it at least makes amends by day. Then the sun,
+shining out of a sky of intense blue, on water vividly green, catches
+the tiled color-chips of the sprawling town; glints on dome<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> and
+minaret, and makes such a city as might be seen in a kaleidoscope.</p>
+
+<p>Her insatiable appetite for beauty had brought Cara on deck early. The
+early shore-wind tossed unruly brown curls into her eyes and across the
+delicate pink of her cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>When the yachtsman joined her, she read in his eyes that he had been
+long awake and was deeply troubled. In the shadow of the after-cabin she
+stopped him with a light touch on his arm.</p>
+
+<p>"Now tell me," she demanded, "what is the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>His voice was quiet. "There is nothing in my thoughts that you cannot
+read&mdash;so&mdash;" He lifted the eyes in question, half-despairing despite the
+smile he had schooled into them. "Why rehearse it all again?"</p>
+
+<p>Her face clouded.</p>
+
+<p>He turned his gaze on the single dome and four minarets of the Mosque of
+Suleyman.</p>
+
+<p>"Besides," he added at length, speaking in a steady monotone, "I
+couldn't tell it without saying things that are forbidden."</p>
+
+<p>When she spoke the dominant note in her voice was weariness.</p>
+
+<p>"My life," she said, "is a miserable serial of calling on you and
+sending you away. Back there"&mdash;she waved her hand to the vague west&mdash;"it
+is summer&mdash;wonderful American summer! The woods are thick<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> and green....
+The big rocks by the creek are splotched yellow with the sun, and green
+with the moss.... I wonder who rides Spartan now, when the hounds are
+out!" She broke off suddenly, with a sobbing catch in her throat, then
+she shook her head sadly. "You see, you must go!" she added. "You will
+take my heart with you&mdash;but that is better than this."</p>
+
+<p>She turned and led the way forward and for the length of the deck he
+walked at her side in silence.</p>
+
+<p>As they halted he demanded, very low; "And you&mdash;?"</p>
+
+<p>Her answering smile was pallid as she quoted, "'More than a little
+lonely'&mdash;" then, reverting to her old name for him, she laughed with
+counterfeited gayety&mdash;"as, Sir Gray Eyes, people must be&mdash;who try to be
+good."</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI</h2>
+
+<h3>IN A CURIO SHOP IN STAMBOUL.</h3>
+
+<p>The <i>muezzin</i> had called the devout to their prayer-rugs for the third
+time that day, when the girl and the two men turned from the Stamboul
+end of Galata Bridge into the tawdry confusion of buildings which
+cluster about the Mosque Yeni-Djami. They were bound for the bazaars.</p>
+
+<p>Along the twisting ways stretched the booths of native merchants stocked
+with the thousand fascinating trifles that the City of the Sultan
+markets to the journeying world. Everywhere the crowd surged and
+jostled.</p>
+
+<p>On the side street where the shops are a trifle larger than their
+neighbors, one Mohammed Abbas keeps his curio bazaar. In such flowery
+Orientalism of appeal did he couch his plea for an inspection of his
+wares, that Cara was persuaded and turned into the shop. Cut off by
+pressure of the crowd, Pagratide, who was following, some paces back,
+caught a glimpse of her figure in the door and fought his way to her
+side, but Benton,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> having stopped to price a bracelet of antique silver
+set with turquoises, lost sight of them. The girl had become interested
+in a quaint, curved dagger thickly studded with semi-precious stones.</p>
+
+<p>Mohammed Abbas urged her to see the rarer and choicer articles which he
+kept in an upper room. As they tailed, a half-dozen natives, swarthy and
+villainous of face, drifted into the shop to be promptly ordered out by
+the proprietor, who used for that purpose a vocabulary of scope and
+vividness. The ruffians retreated after a brief conversation in guttural
+Arabic, but not by the street door through which they had come. Instead,
+they left by a low-arched exit to the rear, concealed from view by the
+angle of the screening stairway. Abbas led his customers to an upper
+room which they found dark except where he lighted it as he went with
+hanging lamps. Its space was generous, broken here and there by piles of
+ebony furniture, inlaid with pearl; pieces of Saracenic armor,
+Damascened bucklers, and all the gear too large for the narrow confines
+below.</p>
+
+<p>Half an hour's searching through the chaos of wares failed to reveal the
+choice daggers which Mohammed wished them to see, and with many
+apologies for added annoyance he begged <i>Monsieur</i> and <i>Madame</i> to mount
+yet another flight, and visit yet another store-room. At the head of
+these stairs they encountered absolute<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> darkness and the shopman, with
+his ever-ready apologies, paused again to light lamps.</p>
+
+<p>As Pagratide's pupils accustomed themselves to the murk he realized that
+this last room was bare except for tapestries hung flat against the
+wall, and that at its farther side narrow slits of light showed along
+the sills of two doors. Turning, he noted the darker shadow of some
+recess in the wall, immediately to his left.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Mohammed Abbas closed the door upon the stairs, and sharply
+clapped his hands. In all lands where Allah is worshiped, clapping of
+the hands is a signal of summons. Thrusting his hand into the pocket
+where he had stored an automatic pistol, Karyl found it empty, and
+remembered that on the stairway the merchant had apologized for jostling
+him. Then simultaneously the two opposite doors opened and framed
+against their light a momentary picture of crowding Arabs.</p>
+
+<hr class='smler' />
+
+<p>Outside, Benton had been searching. First he had felt only annoyance for
+a chance separation, but when ten minutes of futile wandering had
+lengthened to fifteen, annoyance gave way to fear, and fear to panic. A
+dozen tragic stories of mysterious disappearances in Stamboul crowded
+like nightmares upon his memory. At last, standing bewildered in the
+street, he caught<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> sight of a familiar figure; a figure that filled him
+with astonishment and delight.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Von Ritz had left Cairo to return to Puntal. Now here he was in
+a crooked Stamboul street, appearing without warning, but with his
+almost uncanny faculty for being at the right spot when needed. He
+shouldered his way to the side of the officer.</p>
+
+<p>Though the two men had parted several weeks before, the Galavian greeted
+the other only with a formal bow, and an abrupt question. "Where are
+they?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have lost them," replied Benton. He rapidly sketched the events of
+the last half-hour, and confessed his own apprehensions.</p>
+
+<p>With evidence of neither anxiety nor interest, Von Ritz listened, and
+replied with a second question. "Have you seen Martin?"</p>
+
+<p>Benton gave a palpable start. "Martin!" he ejaculated. "Is Martin in
+Constantinople?"</p>
+
+<p>For reply Von Ritz permitted himself the rare indulgence of a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Martin is here," he said briefly.</p>
+
+<p>"And you&mdash;?"</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke the figure of Martin himself emerged from a shop a few paces
+ahead, and without a backward glance cut diagonally across the narrow
+street to disappear into the doorway of the curio shop which is kept by
+Mohammed Abbas.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>When, after being cut off and delayed for some minutes by a passing
+donkey train, Von Ritz and Benton entered the place, they found it empty
+except for a native salesman, but as the Galavian paused to make a
+trivial purchase his listening ear caught a sound above. Without
+hesitation, he wheeled and mounted the stairs with Benton close at his
+heels. Behind him the shop-clerk stood irresolute&mdash;taken aback, with a
+vague consciousness that he should have devised a way to stop this
+gigantic Infidel. Assuredly the master would be angry. Orders had been
+explicitly given to allow no one to climb those steps to-day without
+permission.</p>
+
+<p>While Cara and Karyl had been on the second floor, a heavy <i>Osmanli</i>,
+wearing the Sultan's uniform, had stood in the center of the room above,
+looking about with keen, pig-like eyes, as he gave rapid commands to a
+half dozen Arabs of villainous visage.</p>
+
+<p>"You, Sayed Ayoub," he ordered, "take your pig of a self and others like
+unto you into that doorway by the stairs. Remain until you hear men
+enter from these two doors, facing the Infidel dogs. Then come upon them
+from behind. The man is to be bound, and when evening comes&mdash;but that is
+later! Still, if he resists too much&mdash;" The speaker shrugged his heavy
+shoulders and made a certain gesture.</p>
+
+<p>"And the woman? What of her?" The question came from a gigantic Bedouin
+whose evil countenance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> was made the more sinister by one closed and
+empty eye-socket.</p>
+
+<p>Abdul Said <i>Bey</i> nodded. "She is to be tenderly handled," he enjoined.
+"She, also, must disappear, but that shall be my care. My harem is as
+silent as the Bosphorus."</p>
+
+<p>There were steps on the stairs, and instantaneously the room emptied
+itself and became silently dark.</p>
+
+<p>When Karyl heard the hand-clapping of the decoy shopman, and saw the
+responding ruffians in the opposite doors, he swiftly thrust the girl
+into the spot of blacker shadow at his back, and seized the wrist of
+Mohammed Abbas with a force and suddenness that wrung from him a piteous
+wail.</p>
+
+<p>Keeping the Turk before him, he backed toward the shadowed recess, with
+the one idea of shielding Cara. But the darker spot was the door behind
+which Sayed Ayoub lay in ambuscade, and as Karyl reached it, it swung
+open, showing them against a background as bright as though they were
+painted on yellow canvas.</p>
+
+<p>With his free arm he swept Cara into the doorway, wheeling quickly in
+front of her, and sent Mohammed Abbas lurching forward into the faces of
+the assailants led by Sayed Ayoub. Instantly, however, his arms were
+pinioned from behind by the re&euml;nforcements, and as he frantically
+struggled to turn his face, in an effort to see the girl, some thick
+fabric fell over his head,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> covering mouth and eyes, and he went down
+stifled and garroted into insensibility.</p>
+
+<p>Seeing the man overwhelmed and dragged through the door, Cara stood
+rigidly upright, white in the intensity of voiceless outrage, until the
+gigantic brute with one sightless eye and a greasy <i>tarboosh</i> reached
+out his grimy hand and seized her. Then she sickened at the profaning
+shock of his touch, and fell unconscious.</p>
+
+<p>A few moments later the "English Jackal" stood nonchalantly looking down
+at the bound figure of the former King lying on the floor, shoulders
+propped against the wall, head wrapped in a richly embroidered shawl
+from Persia. Lamps had been kindled. The head wrappings had already been
+somewhat loosened and Karyl was stirring with the indication of
+returning consciousness.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, damn it!" remarked Martin in disgust. "He doesn't need to be both
+trussed up and gagged, you know. He's quite safe. Take off the head
+cloths."</p>
+
+<p>He stuffed tobacco into his blunt bull-dog pipe as he supervised the
+undoing of the smothering fabric and complacently looked at his
+prisoner.</p>
+
+<p>Freed from the bandage, and drinking in again reviving breaths, Karyl
+awoke to the sense of his surroundings. His eyes at once swept the place
+for Cara,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> but he saw only the closed door of the room where she was
+detained.</p>
+
+<p>Martin looked down and as their eyes met he casually nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry to inconvenience you," he commented affably, "but this is
+politics, you know. I happen to work for the other chap, King Louis." As
+an afterthought he added: "And the other chap thinks that you are, to
+put it quite civilly, unnecessary."</p>
+
+<p>He smoked meditatively, while Karyl, without reply, scowled up into his
+face. The sense of futility left Pagratide silent. He lay insanely
+furious like a trapped wolf, able only to glare.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the complacency deserted the Englishman's features, for a
+startled expression. With a violent malediction he bent forward
+listening.</p>
+
+<p>Karyl's ears also caught the sound of feet on the stairs, immediately
+followed by a crash upon the door.</p>
+
+<p>Martin drew a heavy revolver from a holster under his coat, and his
+voice ripped out orders with the sharp decision which had survived the
+days when he wore a British uniform. "Here, you beggars," he shouted,
+"to that door!"</p>
+
+<p>As the Bedouins swarmed forward there came a second crash under which
+the panels fell in, precipitating Von Ritz and Benton into a fierce
+swarm of human hornets.</p>
+
+<p>Falling desperately upon the newcomers with swords,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> knives and
+<i>naboots</i>, the bravos afforded them no time to take breath after their
+climb of the stairs.</p>
+
+<p>Martin, standing with his pipe clamped between his teeth, took no part
+in the onslaught. He cast a glance at the turmoil, then deliberately
+cocked his weapon and leveled it at the breast of his captive.</p>
+
+<p>Karyl realized that the Jackal was not to be led away from his single
+purpose: that of execution. If he himself were to speak to his rescuers,
+he must do it quickly. He raised his voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Von Ritz! To that door!" he shouted loudly, but the Galavian and his
+companion, fighting desperately to hold their own, with the shouts and
+clamor of the struggling Moslems in their ears, did not hear, and the
+Englishman only smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"They are quite busy, you know," he drawled in a half-apologetic tone.
+"Give them a bit of time."</p>
+
+<p>Von Ritz was fighting with the blade of his sword-cane, while Benton,
+too closely pressed to make use of his pistol, was relying upon his
+fists. Indeed, the two white men owed their lives to the crowding which
+made effective fighting impossible on either side.</p>
+
+<p>At last the Turks gave back a few steps for a fresh rush and Benton,
+taking instant advantage of the widened space, fired into the crowd.
+They turned in terror at the first report and went stampeding to the
+several doors. Then for the first time the rescuers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> caught sight of the
+Englishman standing guard over the bound figure on the floor.</p>
+
+<p>With the grim smile of one who, recognizing the end, neither flinches
+nor dallies, Martin fired two shots from his leveled revolver.</p>
+
+<p>A half-second too late Benton's magazine pistol ripped out in a frenzied
+series of spats. The Englishman swayed slightly, his face crimson with
+blood, then, propping himself weakly against the wall, he fired one
+ineffectual shot in reply. Slowly wilting at waist and knees, his figure
+slipped to the floor and lay shapelessly huddled near that of Karyl. The
+stench of powder filled the room. Twisting spirals of smoke curled
+ceilingward.</p>
+
+<p>Von Ritz and Benton, kneeling at the King's side, raised him from the
+floor. The wounded man attempted to speak. His eyes turned inquiringly
+toward the door of the other room. Benton caught the questioning look
+and nodded his head. Then Karyl settled back against the officer's
+supporting shoulder after the fashion of a reassured child.</p>
+
+<p>"The King is dead," said Colonel Von Ritz quietly. There was something
+very pathetic in the steady despair of his voice.</p>
+
+<p>A door opened, and several Bedouins retreated shame-faced and cowed
+before a heavy Turk who wore the Sultan's uniform. His small, pig-like
+eyes blazed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> with terrifying wrath. Looking about the room for a moment,
+he volcanically reviled them.</p>
+
+<p>"You dogs! You pigs! You serpents!" he shrieked. "Your hearts shall be
+thrown to the buzzards! Your children dishonored! You have dared to
+attack the foreign <i>Pashas</i>, and you&mdash;Mohammed Abbas&mdash;!" The shopkeeper
+fell trembling to his knees. "Your filthy shop shall be pulled down
+about your ears. You make it a trap&mdash;your feet shall be <i>bastinadoed</i>
+until you are a cripple for life!" Then his rage choked him, and,
+wheeling, he walked over to Benton, contemptuously kicking the prostrate
+body of Martin <i>Effendi</i> as he went.</p>
+
+<p>From every pore Abdul Said <i>Bey</i> exuded sympathy and commiseration.
+Scenting liberal <i>backshish</i>, he promised absolute secrecy for the
+affair, coupled with soothing assurances of private vengeance upon the
+surviving miscreants. Also, he bewailed the disgrace which had fallen
+upon the Empire by reason of such infamy. He presumed that the foreign
+gentlemen preferred secret punishment of the malefactors to a public
+sensation. It should be so.</p>
+
+<p>In his anxiety for Cara, Benton left Von Ritz to adjust matters with the
+Turk, who with profound courtesy and amazing promptness had closed
+carriages at a rear door, and caused his <i>kavasses</i> to clear the
+alley-way of prying eyes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>When the American reached the room where Cara had been left it was
+deserted by the assassin's guards. With a sudden stopping of his heart,
+he saw her lying apparently lifeless on a stacked-up pile of rugs. In a
+terror that he scarcely dared to investigate, he laid his ear hesitantly
+to her breast, then, reassured, he gave thanks for the anesthetic of
+unconsciousness with which nature had blinded her to the tragedy beyond
+the closed door.</p>
+
+<p>Two curtained carriages drove across Galata Bridge and in the mysterious
+quiet of Stamboul there was no ripple on the surface of affairs as other
+tourists haggled over a few <i>piastres</i> in the curio shops of the
+bazaar.</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII</h2>
+
+<h3>BENTON SAYS GOOD-BY</h3>
+
+<p>Louis Delgado awaited Jusseret in an agony of doubt and fear.</p>
+
+<p>The Frenchman was late. A dispatch from the frontier had announced his
+coming, but to the anxiety of Delgado delays seemed numberless and
+interminable.</p>
+
+<p>At last an aide ushered him into the apartment where the new Monarch
+waited, his inevitable glass of Pernod and anisette twisting in his
+fingers. Jusseret bowed.</p>
+
+<p>"Where is Martin?" inquired the King.</p>
+
+<p>"Dead," said the newcomer briefly. The Pretender paled palpably.
+Evidently the plan had gone awry. Fear always stood near the fore, ready
+to rush out upon Delgado's timid spirit.</p>
+
+<p>"And being dead," resumed the Frenchman, "he is much safer."</p>
+
+<p>Louis gave a half-shuddering sigh of relief. He had none of that
+righteous horror of crime which makes the face of murder hideous, but in
+its place he had all the terrors of the weak, and playing with life and
+death gave him over to panic.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I should suggest an announcement that King Karyl had fled for a time
+from the cares of State and was traveling as a private gentleman in
+strictest incognito, when sudden death overtook him. There need be no
+hint of violence. There must be a State funeral."</p>
+
+<p>"Where is the body?" objected Louis.</p>
+
+<p>Jusseret shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"That I cannot say. I can, however, assure you that it is quite
+lifeless. Since the death occurred some days ago the lying in State may
+be dispensed with. A closed casket is sufficient."</p>
+
+<p>"And his Queen?"</p>
+
+<p>"That point is left unguarded, but from intimations I have received, I
+believe the Queen will be satisfied with private life. If you announce
+her abdication, she will hardly contradict you."</p>
+
+<p>"And Von Ritz?" persisted Louis, with the manner of one who wishes all
+the ghosts which terrify him laid by someone stronger and less afraid of
+ghosts than himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Leave Von Ritz to me. He is no fool. Von Ritz knows who instigated the
+murder of the King, but he is without proof. The thing happened far
+beyond the borders of Galavia."</p>
+
+<p>Louis rose unsteadily from his chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Jusseret," he began, "this interview with Marie still confronts me and
+I dread it. Would it not be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> better for you to explain to her? You could
+persuade her that Kings are not free in these matters, that crowned
+heads from antiquity to Napoleon have been compelled to obey the
+dictates of State."</p>
+
+<p>The Frenchman stiffened.</p>
+
+<p>"Your Majesty," he observed, "it is impossible. Your attachment for the
+Countess Astaride is a personal matter. I am concerned only in affairs
+of State. I must even require of you, in respect to that confidence
+which obtains between gentlemen, that you shall in no wise intimate that
+this suggestion came from me."</p>
+
+<p>The new incumbent, who had brought to the Throne of Galavia all the
+libertine's irresoluteness, paced the floor in perplexed distress. He
+feared Jusseret. He dared not anger or disobey him. It appeared that
+being a King was not what he had conceived it, as he sat under the
+chestnut trees of the Paris boulevards and listened to the band.</p>
+
+<p>When Jusseret had left him to his thoughts he paused three times with a
+tremulous finger on the call-bell, unable to command the courage
+required to send a message to the Countess Astaride. Finally he
+succeeded and five minutes later stood shamefacedly in the presence of
+the woman who had made him King. She was more than usually beautiful,
+and as always her beauty and personality dominated him, swayed his
+senses like music. It was so easy to slip into the impetuous atti<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span>tude
+of the lover; so difficult to maintain the austere one of the Monarch.</p>
+
+<p>Delgado nerved himself and began.</p>
+
+<p>How he said it or what he said, he did not himself know when the words
+had been spoken. He rushed through the speech he had prepared like a
+frightened child at recitation and waited for the outburst of her anger.
+He waited in vain.</p>
+
+<p>Marie Astaride had plotted, had consented to every infamy which had been
+suggested as necessary to bring the man she loved to the Crown.</p>
+
+<p>Now she was silent.</p>
+
+<p>The man looked up when he had waited a seeming century for the expected
+torrent of reproach.</p>
+
+<p>She was standing supporting herself upon her downward stretched arms,
+her hands resting on the table. Her face was pallid and her magnificent
+figure rigid. The scarlet fullness of her lips had gone bloodless. Her
+eyes were stupefied.</p>
+
+<p>At length she straightened herself, let go her support upon the table
+and went slowly like a sleep-walker from the room. She had not spoken.
+She had not said good-by, but Louis Delgado knew that she had walked out
+of his life.</p>
+
+<hr class='smler' />
+
+<p>That evening Monsieur Jusseret of the French <i>Cabinet Noir</i> met, as if
+by chance, young Lieutenant Lapas,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> who was now high in the favor of the
+new government. Jusseret knew that the lure which had drawn young Lapas
+away from the confidence of Karyl to the uncertain standard of Delgado
+had been the influence of the Countess Astaride. He knew that Lapas
+loved her hopelessly, willing even in her name to serve the greater man
+who loved her more successfully. His attachment was that of the boy for
+the woman who is mistress of all the mature arts of charm. This love
+could be turned into the fanatic's zeal; this boy could be led to the
+extreme of martyrdom, if the strings of his characterless nature were
+played upon with a skill sufficiently consummate. Jusseret knew also a
+number of other things. He knew that whereas he had, to all seeming,
+brought a difficult task to completion, he was in reality not yet half
+through. His own vision went farther into the future, and recognized in
+the present only a mile-post far from the ultimate.</p>
+
+<p>He led Lapas to his own rooms. He was leaving for Paris the following
+morning, he explained, and wished a brief conference.</p>
+
+<p>Jusseret could, when occasion demanded, be not only calm and
+self-sufficient, but also emotional. Now he was emotional.</p>
+
+<p>"Rarely, indeed," he began, "do I permit personal indignation to excite
+me. But this is so unspeakable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> that I wished to talk to you. You enjoy
+the confidence of the Countess Astaride?"</p>
+
+<p>"Only in a humble way," confessed young Lapas.</p>
+
+<p>"But you are her friend? If she were wronged and had no other defender,
+you would assume her cause?"</p>
+
+<p>"With my life," protested the officer, fervently.</p>
+
+<p>"This matter," said Jusseret dubiously, "might cost you your life.
+Possibly I should not tell you. As a politician I can have nothing to do
+with it, but as a man, I wish I were myself free to act."</p>
+
+<p>"Who has offended the Countess?" demanded Lapas hotly.</p>
+
+<p>"Offended, my young friend! This is not an offense. It is the gravest
+indignity that can be shown a woman. It is an insult to which a man must
+either blind himself&mdash;or punish with such means as can ignore personal
+peril."</p>
+
+<p>"For God's sake," insisted the other, "explain yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"Louis Delgado," began Jusseret quietly, "accepted this woman's love:
+enjoyed it to the full. He sat and dreamed over his absinthe futile
+dreams of power. He was too weak to strike a blow&mdash;too weak to raise a
+hand. Then she took up his cause; intrigued, enlisted our interests,
+raised his supine and powerless ambitions to a throne. There he abandons
+her at the foot of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> the stairs by which he mounted; and refuses her his
+Crown. He talks now of a more Royal alliance." Jusseret spread his hands
+in a gesture of disgust.</p>
+
+<p>Lapas rose tensely from his chair. The veins on his temples stood out
+corded and deep-lined.</p>
+
+<p>"This cannot be true, sir," he argued. "There must be some error. You
+wrong the King."</p>
+
+<p>"Am I the man to wrong Louis?" questioned the Frenchman. "You have only
+to wait and see for yourself. The matter rests with you. She and I have
+put Louis on the throne. So much I did as the servant of my government.
+What I say to you I say as a man, and I had rather behold all my work
+undone than to stand by and see it bear such fruit. Adieu."</p>
+
+<p>He rose slowly and took his departure. Outside, he smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"I fancy," he told himself, "he will go to the Countess. I fancy she
+will corroborate me&mdash;and then&mdash;!" He dismissed the matter with his
+habitual shrug.</p>
+
+<hr class='smler' />
+
+<p>Two weeks had passed since the tragedy in Stamboul, and the <i>Isis</i>
+cruised aimlessly westward. The Mediterranean stretched to the horizon,
+so placid that the froth from the wake washed languidly, almost
+lifelessly, on the surface, and a single cloud hung stationary in the
+softer blue of the sky. Wrapped in a steamer rug, her figure, more
+slender in the simple lines of her black<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> gown, Cara sat gazing toward
+the receding coast-line of Malta. So she had spent most of the hours
+since they had weighed anchor at Constantinople. On the deck at her feet
+sat Benton.</p>
+
+<p>At Pir&aelig;us Von Ritz had secured a copy of the <i>Figaro</i> several days old,
+and the men had read its report of the Regency of Louis in Puntal. Then
+the yacht had called at Malta where the gray fortresses of Valetta frown
+out to sea, and Von Ritz had once more gone in quest of news.</p>
+
+<p>That had been yesterday. By common consent the two men refrained from
+allusions to State matters in the girl's presence. Now the former
+adviser of the King uneasily paced the deck. Over his usually
+sphinx-like face brooded the troubled expression of one who confronts an
+unwelcome necessity. Suddenly he halted before the girl's deck-chair,
+and, schooling his voice with an apparent effort, spoke in his old-time
+even modulation, but for once he found it difficult to meet the eyes of
+the person he addressed.</p>
+
+<p>"We have heretofore not spoken of things which we would all give many
+years of life to forget," he began. Then he added with feeling: "Only
+the sternest necessity could force me to do so now."</p>
+
+<p>As he paused for permission to continue, the girl raised her eyes with a
+sad smile that had grown habitual.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I have come," said Von Ritz, "to stand for an implacable Nemesis to
+you, and yet I should wish to be identified only with happiness in your
+thoughts. To me one thing always comes first. The House of Galavia is my
+gospel; has been my gospel since Karyl's father mounted its throne." He
+paused and added gravely: "Louis Delgado has reaped his reward&mdash;he is
+dead."</p>
+
+<p>Benton's voice broke out in an explosive "Thank God!"</p>
+
+<p>Von Ritz stood a moment silent, then, dropping to one knee, he took the
+fingers which fell listlessly over the arm of Cara's steamer-chair and
+raised them to his lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Your Majesty is Queen of Galavia."</p>
+
+<p>The American came to his feet, his hands clenched, but with quick
+self-mastery he stood back, breathing heavily.</p>
+
+<p>Cara sat for a moment only half-comprehending, then with a low moan she
+leaned forward and covered her face with both hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Forgive me," said Von Ritz. "I <i>am</i> your Nemesis."</p>
+
+<p>Benton moved over silently and knelt beside her chair. Neither spoke,
+but at last she raised her face and sat looking out at the water, then
+slowly one hand came out gropingly toward the American and both of his
+own closed over it. Von Ritz stood waiting.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>When finally she spoke, her voice was almost childlike, full of
+pleading.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought," she said, "that all that was over. I had thought that
+whatever is left of life belonged just to me&mdash;for my very own. I thought
+I could take it away and try to mend it."</p>
+
+<p>Von Ritz turned his head and his eyes traveled northward and westward,
+where, somewhere beyond the horizon, lay his country.</p>
+
+<p>"Galavia needs you," he said with grave simplicity. "Unless you come to
+her aid there must be ruin and dismemberment. You will save your
+country."</p>
+
+<p>But his words appeared to convert all her crushed and pathetic misery
+into anger. "It is not my country!" she replied almost fiercely. "To me
+it means only&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Von Ritz raised his hand supplicatingly. "It is my country," he said
+sadly, "and&mdash;your duty. Its fate is in your hands."</p>
+
+<p>The girl rose, swayed slightly, and putting out one hand for support,
+stood with her black-gowned figure sketched slenderly against the white
+of the cabin wall, her eyes irresolute and distressed.</p>
+
+<p>"I must have time to think," she begged. "Will you leave me?" Von Ritz
+bowed and retired.</p>
+
+<p>She dropped exhaustedly into the chair again and for a long while sat
+silent. Finally she turned toward<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> the man who, kneeling by her side,
+waited for her decision through what seemed decades of suspense, and her
+hands went out gropingly again toward him.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear," she said in a voice hardly more than a whisper, "whatever I
+do&mdash;whatever I decide&mdash;always and always I love you!" Impulsively her
+fingers clutched at his, which rested clenched on her arm-chair.</p>
+
+<p>"You must go!" she said, after a long while. "With you here there is
+nothing else in the world. I can see only you." With a catch in her
+voice she rushed on. "You must not only go, but I must not know where
+you go. I must not be able to call you back. You must give me your word
+of honor."</p>
+
+<p>He attempted to speak, but she tightened her hold on his hands and her
+hurried utterance checked his words.</p>
+
+<p>"No!" she said. "Listen! This time I decide forever. I must decide
+alone. You must not only be out of my sight, but beyond recall. Three
+months from to-day I shall write to you, but until then I must not know
+your address. Three months from to-day you may be at 'Idle Times,' where
+I first told you I loved you ... where we told each other ... if you
+still wish to be. Then, if I decide that I am free, you will find my
+letter there. If I'm not free, I had better not even write. I couldn't
+write without calling you back. If I have to decide that way&mdash;" She
+broke off with a shudder. "Oh, you must go<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span>&mdash;Dear!&mdash;you must go
+quickly&mdash;! It is the only way you can help me."</p>
+
+<p>A half-hour later, Benton turned to the approaching Von Ritz.</p>
+
+<p>"Colonel," he said steadily, "I sail for San Francisco by way of Suez
+from the first port we reach. You will favor me by accepting the <i>Isis</i>
+as long as Her Majesty can use it."</p>
+
+<p>Von Ritz met his eyes in silence and held out his hand.</p>
+
+<hr />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2>
+
+<h3>JUSSERET MAKES A REPORT</h3>
+
+<p>In Paris a small party of gentlemen, among whom were represented all the
+national types of Southern Europe, were engaged in an informal
+discussion of very formal affairs. They occupied a private suite in the
+Hotel Ritz overlooking the column of the <i>Place Vendome</i>. Upon a table
+swept clean of draperies and bric-a-brac lay an outstretched map of the
+Mediterranean littoral, whereon a small peninsula had been marked with
+certain experimental and revised boundaries in red and blue and black.
+The atmosphere was thick with the smoke from cigars and cigarettes, and
+through the veneering amenities of much courtesy the gentlemen of
+Europe's <i>Cabinets Noirs</i> wrangled with insistence. Finally Monsieur
+Jusseret took the floor, and the others dropped respectfully into an
+attitude of listening.</p>
+
+<p>"It is hardly necessary," he began, "to discuss what has been done in
+Galavia. That is long since a stale story. Our governments, acting in
+concert, made it possible to remove Karyl and crown Louis." He smiled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span>
+quietly. "You know how short a reign Louis enjoyed before death claimed
+him. Perhaps you do not know that his death was not unforeseen by me."</p>
+
+<p>There was an outburst of exclamations under which France's
+representative remained unmoved.</p>
+
+<p>"Our object," he explained coldly, "was the disruption of Galavia's
+integrity. In reducing this Kingdom to a province, the supplanting of
+Karyl with Louis was essential only as an initial step. The instability
+of that government had to be demonstrated to the world by more
+continuous disorders. It was necessary to show that the Kingdom had
+become incapable of self-rule. It followed that the removal of Louis was
+equally natural&mdash;and imperative."</p>
+
+<p>Don Alphonso Rodriguez, bearing the secret credentials of Spain, came to
+his feet with the hauteur of offended dignity.</p>
+
+<p>"My government" he said, with austere deliberation, "had the right to
+know what matters were being transacted. France appears to have assumed
+exclusive control. Is it too late to inquire of France"&mdash;he bent a
+chilling frown upon the smiling Jusseret&mdash;"what she now purposes? It
+appears that Spain knew no more than the newspapers. Spain also believed
+that Louis died by his own hand, and artlessly assumed the motive of
+disappointment in his love for Marie Astaride. We believed we were being
+frankly informed."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The more accomplished diplomat lifted brows and hands in a deprecating
+gesture. "<i>Mon ami</i>," he responded with suavity, "you flatter me. What I
+have done is nothing. I have only paved the way. Quite possibly Louis
+did kill himself. If so it was a meritorious act, but whether he did so
+or whether some mad young officer, infatuated and jealous, was the real
+author of the result, the result stands&mdash;and meets our requirements.
+France does not care what flag flies over the Governor-General's Palace
+in Puntal, provided it be the flag of a nation in concert with France.
+France suggests that the Governor-General should be a Galavian, and
+points to the one man conspicuously capable&mdash;who happens to be," he
+added with an amused laugh, "my particular enemy."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean Von Ritz?" The question came from Italy's delegate.</p>
+
+<p>Jusseret bowed his head. "Von Ritz," he affirmed.</p>
+
+<p>Don Alphonso Rodriguez laughed with a note of incredulity. "And how do
+you propose," he demanded, "to persuade this loyal adviser of Karyl to
+accept a deputyship at the hands of Karyl's enemies?"</p>
+
+<p>Again Jusseret smiled. "It will be Von Ritz or a foreigner," he
+explained. "We must convince him that his beloved Kingdom can henceforth
+be only a province in any event&mdash;that it may prosper under his guidance
+or suffer under a more oppressive hand. That done,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> his patriotism will
+prove our ally. We have only to convince him that no member of Karyl's
+house can reign and live&mdash;and that it must be himself or an alien."</p>
+
+<p>"It would have been as easy," demurred the Portuguese delegate, "to have
+persuaded Von Ritz that Karyl himself should abdicate."</p>
+
+<p>Jusseret felt the hostility of the other members. In spite of the
+realization, or perhaps because of it, he glanced from face to face with
+unruffled urbanity.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Messieurs</i>," he suggested, "you overlook the hypotheses&mdash;and in
+reaching conclusions hypotheses are serviceable. You, gentlemen," he
+continued blandly, "regarded the initial steps as impracticable. What I
+volunteered to do, I have so far done. We have one object. The insatiate
+ambition of that nation, which we need not name, must not gain
+additional Mediterranean foothold. Spain or Portugal, it is one to us,
+may decide the matter of suzerainty between themselves."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you mean to persuade Von Ritz?" insisted Don Alphonso.</p>
+
+<p>"In the young Queen, who is the sole eligible candidate for the Throne,
+we have at heart an unwilling heir. Von Ritz distrusts France. Let the
+suggestion come from Portugal, a friend who can speak persuasively&mdash;and
+convincingly. Let him see the inevitable result<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> unless he consents. Let
+all which we have done be denounced. Lead him to believe that he holds
+as steward"&mdash;Jusseret raised his hands as he concluded&mdash;"for Karyl's
+heir, if there should be one. These things are mere details."</p>
+
+<hr class='smler' />
+
+<p>Benton worked his way slowly to San Francisco through the Far East. It
+is not difficult to avoid newspapers between Isma&iuml;lia and Manila, and
+with the dogged determination to let the day set by Cara answer all
+questions of his future, he had neither sought nor received tidings from
+Galavia.</p>
+
+<p>He had not permitted himself great indulgence in hope. The past months
+had brought too many disappointments, and he knew that they had all been
+but episodes leading up to the climax which must come with the day when
+he inquired for a letter at "Idle Times."</p>
+
+<p>He dreaded a return to "Idle Times" before the day set for his inquiry.
+Bristow's place stood for too much of memory, and the inevitable
+questions of his friend loomed before him, as the trifle which a man who
+has stood much more than trifles cannot bring himself to face. Yet there
+was no danger of his being late. That time was the one fixed point on
+the calendar of his future. One day before his three months had come to
+an end, he arrived, but he did not go to Van Bristow's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> house. He did
+not announce his coming. He went by the less frequented streets of the
+near-by village to its inadequate hotel, where he found only a drummer
+for a New York shoe house and a gentleman traveling "out of Chicago"
+with samples of ready-made clothing.</p>
+
+<p>For a time he sat in the dingy parlor of the place and listened to the
+jarring talk of the commercial travelers. Already Galavia and the months
+which had been, seemed receding into an improbable dream, but the misery
+of their bequeathing was poignantly real.</p>
+
+<p>He rose impatiently and made his way to the livery-stable, where he
+hired a saddle horse. His idea was merely to be alone. The reins hung on
+the neck of his spiritless mount and the roads he went were the roads it
+took of its own unguided selection.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Benton looked up. He was in a lane between overarching trees; a
+lane which he remembered. Off to the side were the hills bristling with
+pines, raised against the sky like the lances of marching troops. It was
+the road he had ridden with her on that day when her horse fell at the
+fence&mdash;and there, on the side of the hill, stood a dilapidated cabin:
+the cabin upon whose porch he had poured water over her hands from a
+gourd dipper.</p>
+
+<p>It was only the end of September, but an early frost had flushed the
+woods and hillsides into a hint of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> crimson and gold they were soon
+to wear in more profligate splendor. The fragrant, blue mist of wood
+smoke drifted over the fields at the foot of the knobs. The hills were
+seen through a wash of purple. From somewhere to the far left drifted
+the mellowed music of fox-hounds. Riding slowly, the man came at length
+to the cabin gate.</p>
+
+<p>The same farmer sat as indolently now as then, on the top step. The
+setter dog started up to growl as the horseman dismounted.</p>
+
+<p>The man did not recognize him, but the proffer of Benton's cigar-case
+proved a sufficient credential, and a discussion of the weather appeared
+a satisfactory reason for remaining. It was only a verbal and logical
+step from weather to crops, and in ten minutes the visitor was being
+shown over the place. When the round of cribs and stables was completed
+it was time for the host to feed his stock, and, saying good-by at the
+barn, he left Benton to make his way alone to the cabin. Passing through
+the house from the back, the man halted suddenly and with abrupt
+wonderment at the front door.</p>
+
+<p>For upright and slim, with a small gauntleted hand resting on one of the
+rude posts of the porch, gazing off intently into the coloring west,
+stood an unmistakable figure in a black riding habit. Incredulous,
+suddenly stunned under the cumulative suspense of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> past three
+months, he stood hesitant. Then the figure slowly turned and, as the old
+heart-breaking, heart-recompensing smile came to her lips and eyes, the
+girl silently held out both arms to him.</p>
+
+<p>Finally he found time to ask: "How long have you been here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Six weeks," she answered. "And it's been lonesome."</p>
+
+<p>"Your answer, Cara," he whispered. "What is your answer?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am here," she said. "Don't you see me? I'm the answer."</p>
+
+<p class='tbrk'>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h4>THE END</h4>
+
+<hr />
+<h2><a name="BIOGRAPHIES" id="BIOGRAPHIES"></a>BIOGRAPHIES</h2>
+
+<hr />
+<p class="center"><img src="images/313.png" width='497' height='700' alt="TWO POPULAR AUTHORS and SOMETHING ABOUT THEM" /></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="center"><a name="illust-315.jpg" id="illust-315.jpg"></a><img src="images/illust-315.jpg" width='492' height='700' alt="CHARLES NEVILLE BUCK" /></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHARLES_NEVILLE_BUCK" id="CHARLES_NEVILLE_BUCK"></a>CHARLES NEVILLE BUCK</h2>
+
+<p>Though still a young man&mdash;he has only just passed his thirtieth
+year&mdash;Charles Neville Buck, the author of "The Lighted Match," has
+travelled far and done much. Although it was as late as January, 1909,
+that he first settled down to write for the magazines, he has made
+already an established reputation as a short story writer, and promises
+to make an even greater name as a novelist. His first novel, "The Key to
+Yesterday," was one of the successes of the last publishing season, and
+we shall be greatly surprised if "The Lighted Match" does not prove
+still more popular.</p>
+
+<p>Born in Louisville, Ky., he visited South America with his father, the
+Hon. C. W. Buck, United States Minister to Peru. Since then he has
+travelled in Europe, covering the ground where he places the scenes in
+"The Key to Yesterday" and "The Lighted Match."</p>
+
+<p>After graduation, Mr. Buck studied art, and for a year was the chief
+cartoonist on Louisville's leading daily paper. He then turned to
+editorial and reportorial work, which brought him into close contact
+with Kentucky politics and the mountain feuds. In 1902, while still a
+reporter, he was admitted to the Bar, but never practised.</p>
+
+<p>Successful as he is at the short story, it is in the novel that Mr. Buck
+does his finest work. The novel rather than the short story gives scope
+for those little touches which make for style and atmosphere, and it is
+at these that Mr. Buck peculiarly excels. The vivid interest of his
+plots is apt to blind the reader to this merit, for Mr. Buck's novels
+have what some consider the only virtue of a novel, that they can be
+read for the story alone; but it is there, nevertheless, and for some
+constitutes the greatest charm of his work. In "The Lighted Match," even
+more than in "The Key to Yesterday," is this artistic finish noticeable.
+"The Lighted Match" is not only a bully good story, it is literature as
+well.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="center"><a name="illust-319.jpg" id="illust-319.jpg"></a><img src="images/illust-319.jpg" width='513' height='700' alt="PELHAM GRANVILLE WODEHOUSE" /></p>
+
+<h2><a name="PELHAM_GRANVILLE_WODEHOUSE" id="PELHAM_GRANVILLE_WODEHOUSE"></a>PELHAM GRANVILLE WODEHOUSE</h2>
+
+<p>During the past year a phrase has been frequently heard among magazine
+and book men in New York when the name of Pelham Granville Wodehouse has
+been mentioned. This phrase is "the logical successor to O. Henry"&mdash;and
+it is misleading. Any humorist who tried to follow in the tracks of O.
+Henry would be merely an imitator and the task would be as unwise as
+though O. Henry had cramped his own freedom in an effort to walk in the
+footprints of Mark Twain or any other predecessor in the field of humor.</p>
+
+<p>Wodehouse suggests O. Henry only in that he has suddenly come into
+universal recognition as a remarkable humorist. He wields a pen which
+commands an uncommon power of satire, without the suggestion of vitriol
+or bitterness. His humor has a sparkle, effervescence and spontaneity
+which has put him in an incredibly short time in the front rank of
+writers, and since the materialistic barometer at least records the
+opinion of the editors and since the editors are supposed to know, has
+brought him into that envied coterie whose rate per word in the
+magazines has soared skyward.</p>
+
+<p>P.G. Wodehouse was born in Guildford, England, in 1881, and while still
+an infant he accompanied his parents to Hong Kong, where the elder
+Wodehouse was a judge. He is a cousin of the Earl of Kimberley. In his
+school days he went in for cricket, football and boxing, and made for
+himself a reputation in athletics.</p>
+
+<p>For two years Mr. Wodehouse went into a London bank and observed the
+passing parade from a high stool, but this was not quite in keeping with
+his tastes, and we find him next publishing a column of humorous
+paragraphs in the <i>London Globe</i>, under the head of "By the Way." Later
+he assumed the editorship of this department, and many of his paragraphs
+lived longer than the few hours' existence of most newspaper humor. Also
+since all writers experimentally venture into the dramatic, he wrote
+several vaudeville sketches which have had popular English productions.</p>
+
+<p>Three years ago P.G. Wodehouse came to New York. He liked the American
+field and wanted to see whether his humor would strike the American
+fancy. It struck. Mr. Wodehouse had tried his wings here only a few
+months when magazine editors were bidding for his manuscripts. His
+short stories have appeared generally in the magazines, and while one
+often finds the delightful touch of pathos, there is always an abundance
+of laughter. In <i>Cosmopolitan, Collier's Weekly, Ainslee's</i>, and many
+other publications these stories appear as often as Mr. Wodehouse will
+contribute.</p>
+
+<p>His novel, "The Intrusion of Jimmy," last year was a decided success. In
+it Mr. Wodehouse demonstrated his ability to hold his sprinting speed
+over a Marathon distance. The book, after giving the flattering returns
+of a large sale, found its second production on the stage. In its
+dramatized version with the title, "A Gentleman of Leisure," it has had
+its tryout on the road and has proven a success. With Douglas Fairbanks
+in the leading r&ocirc;le, it will be one of next Fall's elaborate productions
+on Broadway.</p>
+
+<p>In personality Mr. Wodehouse is quite as interesting as one might gather
+from his writings. Physically a man of splendid proportions and mentally
+a fountain of spirited humor, he is, nevertheless, modest to the point
+usually termed "retiring," and is well known only after long
+acquaintanceship. He is fond of all sports, and on reaching America
+became truly the native in his enthusiasm for baseball. Mr. Wodehouse
+says that one epoch of his literary career dates from his purchase of an
+automobile in 1907. The purchase was an investment of considerable
+gravity to a young writer just commencing to command an entree. The
+automobile lasted some two weeks and came to a violent end against a
+telephone pole. Mr. Wodehouse thought out the major problems of life
+sitting on the turf near the pole from a more or less lacerated point of
+view. He decided, among other things, that his <i>forte</i> was rather
+writing about motors than riding about <i>in</i> motors.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Wodehouse's second novel will be an even greater success than "The
+Intrusion of Jimmy." Mr. Wodehouse spent last winter on the Riviera
+writing this book, and his friends who have read the advance pages,
+agree with the publishers that it will deserve and receive even greater
+cordiality than the first. The title will be "The Prince and Betty," and
+it will be something for novel readers to look forward to.</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Lighted Match, by Charles Neville Buck
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIGHTED MATCH ***
+
+***** This file should be named 18336-h.htm or 18336-h.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/3/3/18336/
+
+Produced by David Garcia, Martin Pettit and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Kentuckiana Digital Library)
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+
+</pre>
+
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/18336-h/images/003.png b/18336-h/images/003.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bce2b7c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/18336-h/images/003.png
diff --git a/18336-h/images/313.png b/18336-h/images/313.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ecaef2d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/18336-h/images/313.png
diff --git a/18336-h/images/illust-002.jpg b/18336-h/images/illust-002.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5ff2fab
--- /dev/null
+++ b/18336-h/images/illust-002.jpg
diff --git a/18336-h/images/illust-033.jpg b/18336-h/images/illust-033.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4f53de2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/18336-h/images/illust-033.jpg
diff --git a/18336-h/images/illust-107.jpg b/18336-h/images/illust-107.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3934ade
--- /dev/null
+++ b/18336-h/images/illust-107.jpg
diff --git a/18336-h/images/illust-315.jpg b/18336-h/images/illust-315.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b5b5f91
--- /dev/null
+++ b/18336-h/images/illust-315.jpg
diff --git a/18336-h/images/illust-319.jpg b/18336-h/images/illust-319.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a236965
--- /dev/null
+++ b/18336-h/images/illust-319.jpg
diff --git a/18336.txt b/18336.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6e7fbe2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/18336.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,8277 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Lighted Match, by Charles Neville Buck
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Lighted Match
+
+Author: Charles Neville Buck
+
+Illustrator: R. F. Schabelitz
+
+Release Date: May 7, 2006 [EBook #18336]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIGHTED MATCH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Garcia, Martin Pettit and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Kentuckiana Digital Library)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                    THE LIGHTED MATCH
+
+[Illustration: SHE HELD OUT HER HAND TO BENTON AND WATCHED,
+TRANCE-LIKE, HIS LOWERED HEAD AS HE BENT HIS LIPS TO HER FINGERS.]
+
+
+                           The
+                       LIGHTED MATCH
+
+                           by
+
+                   CHARLES NEVILLE BUCK
+
+                       _Author of_
+
+                   The Key to Yesterday
+
+                     _Illustrations_
+                           by
+                     R. F. Schabelitz
+
+
+                   W. J. Watt & Company
+                    Publishers New York
+
+
+                   COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY
+                   W. J. WATT & COMPANY
+
+                    _Published May_
+
+                        PRESS OF
+                    BRAUNWORTH & CO.
+                 BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS
+                     BROOKLYN, N. Y.
+
+
+                       To K. du P.
+
+
+
+
+                         CONTENTS
+
+
+CHAPTER                                                 PAGE
+     I AN OMEN IS CONSTRUED                                9
+
+    II BENTON PLAYS MAGICIAN                              17
+
+   III THE MOON OVERHEARS                                 28
+
+    IV THE DOCTRINE ACCORDING TO JONESY                   40
+
+     V IT IS DECIDED TO MASQUERADE                        49
+
+    VI IN WHICH ROMEO BECOMES DROMIO                      56
+
+   VII IN WHICH DROMIO BECOMES ROMEO                      70
+
+  VIII THE PRINCESS CONSULTS JONESY                       82
+
+    IX THE TOREADOR APPEARS                               92
+
+     X OF CERTAIN TRANSPIRINGS AT A CAFE TABLE           102
+
+    XI THE PASSING PRINCESS AND THE MISTAKEN COUNTESS    112
+
+   XII BENTON MUST DECIDE                                123
+
+  XIII CONCERNING FAREWELLS AND WARNINGS                 137
+
+   XIV COUNTESS AND CABINET NOIR JOIN FORCES             144
+
+    XV THE TOREADOR BECOMES AMBASSADOR                   155
+
+   XVI THE AMBASSADOR BECOMES ADMIRAL                    167
+
+  XVII BENTON CALLS ON THE KING                          178
+
+ XVIII IN WHICH THE SPHINX BREAKS SILENCE                190
+
+   XIX THE JACKAL TAKES THE TRAIL                        203
+
+    XX THE DEATH OF ROMANCE IS DEPLORED                  214
+
+   XXI NAPLES ASSUMES NEW BEAUTY                         222
+
+  XXII THE SENTRY-BOX ANSWERS THE KING'S QUERY           229
+
+ XXIII "SCARABS OF A DEAD DYNASTY"                       244
+
+  XXIV IN WHICH KINGS AND COMMONERS DISCUSS LOVE         255
+
+   XXV ABDUL SAID BEY EFFECTS A RESCUE                   265
+
+  XXVI IN A CURIO SHOP IN STAMBOUL                       276
+
+ XXVII BENTON SAYS GOOD-BY                               288
+
+XXVIII JUSSERET MAKES A REPORT                           300
+
+
+
+
+THE LIGHTED MATCH
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+AN OMEN IS CONSTRUED
+
+
+"When a feller an' a gal washes their hands in the same basin at the
+same time, it's a tol'able good sign they won't git married this year."
+
+The oracle spoke through the bearded lips of a farmer perched on the top
+step of his cabin porch. The while he construed omens, a setter pup
+industriously gnawed at his boot-heels.
+
+The girl was bending forward, her fingers spread in a tin basin, as the
+man at her elbow poured water slowly from a gourd-dipper. Heaped, in
+disorder against the cabin wall, lay their red hunting-coats, crops, and
+riding gauntlets.
+
+The oracle tumbled the puppy down the steps and watched its return to
+the attack. Then with something of melancholy retrospect in his pale
+eyes he pursued his reflections. "Now there was Sissy Belmire an' Bud
+Thomas, been keeping company for two years, then washed hands in common
+at the Christian Endeavor picnic an'--" He broke off to shake his head
+in sorrowing memory.
+
+The young man, holding his muddied digits over the water, paused to
+consider the matter.
+
+Suddenly his hands went down into the basin with a splash.
+
+"It is now the end of October," he enlightened; "next year comes in nine
+weeks."
+
+The sun was dipping into a cloud-bank already purpled and gold-rimmed.
+Shortly it would drop behind the bristling summit-line of the hills.
+
+The girl looked down at tell-tale streaks of red clay on the skirt of
+her riding habit, and shook her head. "'Twill never, never do to go back
+like this," she sighed. "They'll know I've come a cropper, and they
+fancy I'm as breakable as Sevres. There will be no end of questions."
+
+The young man dropped to his knees and began industriously plying a
+brush on the damaged skirt. The farmer took his eyes from the puppy for
+an upward glance. His face was solicitous.
+
+"When I saw that horse of yours fall down, it looked to me like he was
+trying to jam you through to China. You sure lit hard!"
+
+"It didn't hurt me," she laughed as she thrust her arms into the sleeves
+of her pink coat. "You see, we thought we knew the run better than the
+whips, and we chose the short cut across your meadow. My horse took off
+too wide at that stone fence. That's why he went down, and why we turned
+your house into a port of repairs. You have been very kind."
+
+The trio started down the grass-grown pathway to the gate where the
+hunters stood hitched. The young man dropped back a few paces to satisfy
+himself that she was not concealing some hurt. He knew her
+half-masculine contempt for acknowledging the fragility of her sex.
+
+Reassurance came as he watched her walking ahead with the unconscious
+grace that belonged to her pliant litheness and expressed itself in her
+superb, almost boyish carriage.
+
+When they had mounted and he had reined his bay down to the side of her
+roan, he sat studying her through half-closed, satisfied eyes though he
+already knew her as the Moslem priest knows the Koran. While they rode
+in silence he conned the inventory. Slim uprightness like the strength
+of a young poplar; eyes that played the whole color-gamut between violet
+and slate-gray, as does the Mediterranean under sun and cloud-bank; lips
+that in repose hinted at melancholy and that broke into magic with a
+smile. Then there was the suggestion of a thought-furrow between the
+brows and a chin delicately chiseled, but resolute and fascinatingly
+uptilted.
+
+It was a face that triumphed over mere prettiness with hints of
+challenging qualities; with individuality, with possibilities of
+purpose, with glints of merry humor and unspoken sadness; with
+deep-sleeping potentiality for passion; with a hundred charming
+whimsicalities.
+
+The eyes were just now fixed on the burning beauty of the sunset and the
+thought-furrow was delicately accentuated. She drew a long, deep breath
+and, letting the reins drop, stretched out both arms toward the splendor
+of the sky-line.
+
+"It is so beautiful--so beautiful!" she cried, with the rapture of a
+child, "and it all spells Freedom. I should like to be the freest thing
+that has life under heaven. What is the freest thing in the world?"
+
+She turned her face on him with the question, and her eyes widened after
+a way they had until they seemed to be searching far out in the fields
+of untalked-of things, and seeing there something that clouded them with
+disquietude.
+
+"I should like to be a man," she went on, "a man and a _hobo_." The
+furrow vanished and the eyes suddenly went dancing. "That is what I
+should like to be--a hobo with a tomato-can and a fire beside the
+railroad-track."
+
+The man said nothing, and she looked up to encounter a steady gaze from
+eyes somewhat puzzled.
+
+His pupils held a note of pained seriousness, and her voice became
+responsively vibrant as she leaned forward with answering gravity in her
+own.
+
+"What is it?" she questioned. "You are troubled."
+
+He looked away beyond her to the pine-topped hills, which seemed to be
+marching with lances and ragged pennants, against the orange field of
+the sky. Then his glance came again to her face.
+
+"They call me the Shadow," he said slowly. "You know whose shadow that
+means. These weeks have made us comrades, and I am jealous because you
+are the sum of two girls, and I know only one of them. I am jealous of
+the other girl at home in Europe. I am jealous that I don't know why
+you, who are seemingly subject only to your own fancy, should crave the
+freedom of the hobo by the railroad track."
+
+She bent forward to adjust a twisted martingale, and for a moment her
+face was averted. In her hidden eyes at that moment, there was deep
+suffering, but when she straightened up she was smiling.
+
+"There is nothing that you shall not know. But not yet--not yet! After
+all, perhaps it's only that in another incarnation I was a vagrant bee
+and I'm homesick for its irresponsibility."
+
+"At all events"--he spoke with an access of boyish enthusiasm--"I 'thank
+whatever gods may be' that I have known you as I have. I'm glad that we
+have not just been idly rich together. Why, Cara, do you remember the
+day we lost our way in the far woods, and I foraged corn, and you
+scrambled stolen eggs? We were forest folk that day; primitive as in the
+years when things were young and the best families kept house in caves."
+
+The girl nodded. "I approve of my shadow," she affirmed.
+
+The smile of enthusiasm died on his face and something like a scowl came
+there.
+
+"The chief trouble," he said, "is that altogether too decent brute,
+Pagratide. I don't like double shadows; they usually stand for confused
+lights."
+
+"Are you jealous of Pagratide?" she laughed. "He pretends to have a
+similar sentiment for you."
+
+"Well," he conceded, laughing in spite of himself, "it does seem that
+when a European girl deigns to play a while with her American cousins,
+Europe might stay on its own side of the pond. This Pagratide is a
+commuter over the Northern Ocean track. He harasses the Atlantic with
+his goings and comings."
+
+"The Atlantic?" she echoed mockingly.
+
+"Possibly I was too modest," he amended. "I mean me and the
+Atlantic--particularly me."
+
+From around the curve of the road sounded a tempered shout. The girl
+laughed.
+
+"You seem to have summoned him out of space," she suggested.
+
+The man growled. "The local from Europe appears to have arrived." He
+gathered in his reins with an almost vicious jerk which brought the
+bay's head up with a snort of remonstrance.
+
+A horseman appeared at the turn of the road. Waving his hat, he put
+spurs to his mount and came forward at a gallop. The newcomer rode with
+military uprightness, softened by the informal ease of the polo-player.
+Even at the distance, which his horse was lessening under the insistent
+pressure of his heels, one could note a boyish charm in the frankness of
+his smile and an eagerness in his eyes.
+
+"I have been searching for you for centuries at least," he shouted, with
+a pleasantly foreign accent, which was rather a nicety than a fault of
+enunciation, "but the quest is amply rewarded!"
+
+He wheeled his horse to the left with a precision that again bespoke the
+cavalryman, and bending over the girl's gauntleted hand, kissed her
+fingers in a manner that added to something of ceremonious flourish much
+more of individual homage. Her smile of greeting was cordial, but a
+degree short of enthusiasm.
+
+"I thought--" she hesitated. "I thought you were on the other side."
+
+The newcomer's laugh showed a glistening line of the whitest teeth under
+a closely-cropped dark mustache.
+
+"I have run away," he declared. "My honored father is, of course,
+furious, but Europe was desolate--and so--" He shrugged his shoulders.
+Then, noting Benton's half-amused, half-annoyed smile, he bowed and
+saluted. "Ah, Benton," he said. "How are you? I see that your eyes
+resent foreign invasion."
+
+Benton raised his brows in simulated astonishment. "Are you still
+foreign?" he inquired. "I thought perhaps you had taken out your first
+citizenship papers."
+
+"But you?" Pagratide turned to the girl with something of entreaty.
+"Will you not give me your welcome?"
+
+In the distance loomed the tile roofs and tall chimneys of "Idle Times."
+Between stretched a level sweep of road.
+
+"You didn't ask permission," she replied, with a touch of disquiet in
+her pupils. "When a woman is asked to extend a welcome, she must be
+given time to prepare it. I ran away from Europe, you know, and after
+all you are a part of Europe."
+
+She shook out her reins, bending forward over the roan's neck, and with
+a clatter of gravel under their twelve hoofs, the horses burst forward
+in a sudden neck and neck dash, toward the patch of red roofs set in a
+mosaic of Autumn woods.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+BENTON PLAYS MAGICIAN
+
+
+In the large living-room, Van Bristow, the master of "Idle Times," had
+expressed his tastes. Here in the almost severe wainscoting, in
+inglenook and chimney-corner, one found the index to his fancy. It was
+his fancy which had dictated that the broad windows, with sills at the
+level of the floor, should not command the formal terraces and lawns of
+a landscape-gardener's devising, but should give exit instead upon a
+strip of rugged nature, where the murmur of the creek came up through
+unaltered foliage and underbrush.
+
+Shortening their entrance through one of the windows, the trio found
+their host, already in evening dress. Bristow was idling on the hearth
+with no more immediate concern than a cigarette and the enjoyment of the
+crackling logs, unspoiled by other light.
+
+As the clatter of boots and spurs announced their coming, Van glanced up
+and schooled his face into a very fair counterfeit of severity.
+
+"Lucky we don't make our people ring in on the clock," he observed. "You
+three would be docked."
+
+The girl stood in the red glow of the hearth, slowly drawing off her
+riding-gauntlets.
+
+Pagratide went to the table in search of cigarettes and matches, and as
+the light there was dim, the host joined him and laid a hand readily
+enough upon the brass case for which the other was fumbling. As he held
+a light to his guest's cigarette, he bent over and spoke in a guarded
+undertone. Benton noticed in the brief flare that the visitor's face
+mirrored sudden surprise.
+
+"Colonel Von Ritz is here," confided Bristow. "Arrived by the next train
+after you and was for posting off in search of you instanter. He acted
+very much like a summons-server or a bailiff. He's ensconced in rooms
+adjoining yours. You might look in on him as you go up to dress. He
+seems to be in the very devil of a hurry."
+
+Pagratide's brows went up in evident annoyance and for an instant there
+was a defiant stiffening of his jaw, but when he spoke his voice held
+neither excitement nor surprise.
+
+"Ah, indeed!" The exclamation was casual. He watched the glowing end of
+his cigarette for a moment, then magnanimously added: "However, since he
+has followed across three thousand miles, I had better see him."
+
+The host turned to the girl. "I'm borrowing this young man until
+dinner," he vouchsafed as he led Pagratide to the door.
+
+Cara stood watching the two as they passed into the hall; then her face
+changed suddenly as though she had been leaving a stage and had laid
+aside a part--abandoning a semblance which it was no longer necessary to
+maintain. A pained droop came to the corners of her lips and she dropped
+wearily into the broad oak seat of the inglenook. There she sat, with
+her chin propped on her hands, elbows on her knees, and gazed silently
+at the logs.
+
+"Why did they have to come just now and spoil my holiday?"
+
+She spoke as though unconscious that her musings were finding voice, and
+the half-whispered words were wistful. Benton took a step nearer and
+bent impulsively forward.
+
+"What is it?" he anxiously questioned.
+
+She only looked intently into the coals with trouble-clouded eyes and
+shook her head. He could not tell whether in response to his words or to
+some thought of her own.
+
+Dropping on one knee at her feet, he gently covered her hands with his
+own. He could feel the delicate play of her breath on his forehead.
+
+"Cara," he whispered, "what is it, dear?"
+
+She started, and with a spasmodic movement caught one of his hands, for
+an instant pressing it in her own, then, rising, she shook her head with
+a gesture of the fingers at the temples as though she would brush away
+cobwebs that enmeshed and fogged the brain.
+
+"Nothing, boy." Her smile was somewhat wistful. "Nothing but silly
+imaginings." She laughed and when she spoke again her voice was as light
+as if her world held only triviality and laughter. "Yet there be
+important things to decide. What shall I wear for dinner?"
+
+"It's such a hard question," he demurred. "I like you best in so many
+things, but the queen can do no wrong--make no mistake."
+
+A sudden shadow of pain crossed her eyes, and she caught her lower lip
+sharply between her teeth.
+
+"Was it something I said?" he demanded.
+
+"Nothing," she answered slowly. "Only don't say that again, ever--'the
+queen can do no wrong.' Now, I must go."
+
+She rose and turned toward the door, then suddenly carrying one hand to
+her eyes, she took a single unsteady step and swayed as though she would
+fall. Instantly his arms were around her and for a moment he could feel,
+in its wild fluttering, her heart against the red breast of his
+hunting-coat.
+
+Her laugh was a little shaken as she drew away from him and stood,
+still a trifle unsteady. Her voice was surcharged with self-contempt.
+
+"Sir Gray Eyes, I--I ask you to believe that I don't habitually fall
+about into people's arms. I'm developing nerves--there is a white
+feather in my moral and mental plumage."
+
+He looked at her with grave eyes, from which he sternly banished all
+questioning--and remained silent.
+
+They passed out into the hall and, at the foot of the stairs where their
+ways diverged, she paused to look back at him with an unclouded smile.
+
+"You have not told me what to wear."
+
+His eyes were as steady as her own. "You will please wear the black gown
+with the shimmery things all over it. I can't describe it, but I can
+remember it. And a single red rose," he judiciously added.
+
+"'Tis October and the florists are fifty miles away," she demurred. "It
+would take a magician's wand to produce the red rose."
+
+"I noticed a funny looking thing among my golf sticks," he remembered.
+"It is a little bit like a niblick, but it may be a magic wand in
+disguise. You wear the black gown and trust to providence for the red
+rose."
+
+She threw back a laugh and was gone.
+
+When she disappeared at the turning, he wheeled and went to the
+"bachelors' barracks," as the master of "Idle Times" dubbed the wing
+where the unmarried men were quartered.
+
+Two suites next adjoining the room allotted to Benton had been
+unoccupied when he had gone out that forenoon. Between his quarters and
+these erstwhile vacant ones lay a room forming a sort of buffer space.
+Here a sideboard, a card-table, and desk made the "neutral zone," as Van
+called it, available for his guests as a territory either separating or
+connecting their individual chambers.
+
+Now a blaze of transoms and a sound of voices proclaimed that the
+apartments were tenanted. Benton entered his own unlighted room, and
+then with his hand at the electric switch halted in embarrassment.
+
+The folding-doors between his apartment and the "neutral territory"
+stood wide, and the attitudes and voices of the two men he saw there
+indicated their interview to be one in which outsiders should have no
+concern. To switch on the light would be to declare himself a witness to
+a part at least; to remain would be to become unwilling auditor to more;
+to open the door he had just closed behind him would also be to attract
+attention to himself. He paused in momentary uncertainty.
+
+One of the men was Pagratide, transformed by anger; seemingly taller,
+darker, lither. The second man stood calm, immobile, with his arms
+crossed on his breast, bending an impassive glance on the other from
+singularly steady eyes. His six feet of well-proportioned stature just
+missed an exaggeration of soldierly bearing.
+
+The unwavering mouth-line; level, dark brows almost meeting over
+unflinching gray eyes; the uncurved nose and commanding forehead were in
+concert with the clean, almost lean sweep of the jaw, in spelling force
+for field or council.
+
+"Am I a brigand, Von Ritz, to be harassed by police? Answer me--am I?"
+Pagratide spoke in a tempest of anger. He halted before the other man,
+his hands twitching in fury.
+
+Von Ritz remained as motionless, apparently as mildly interested, as
+though he were listening to the screaming of a parrot.
+
+"My orders were explicit." His words fell icily. "They were the orders
+of His Majesty's government. I shall obey them. I beg pardon, I shall
+attempt to obey them; and thus far my attempts to serve His Majesty have
+not encountered failure. I should prefer not having to call on the
+ambassador--or the American secret service."
+
+"By God! If I had a sword--" breathed Pagratide. His fury had gone
+through heat to cold, and his attitude was that of a man denied the
+opportunity of resenting a mortal affront.
+
+Von Ritz coolly inclined his head, indicating the heaped-up luggage on
+the table between them. Otherwise he did not move.
+
+"The stick there, on the table, is a sword-cane," he commented.
+
+Pagratide stood unmoving.
+
+The other waited a moment, almost deferentially, then went on with calm
+deliberation.
+
+"You left your regiment without leave, captain. One might almost call
+that--" Then Benton remembered an auxiliary door at the back of his
+apartment and made his escape unnoticed.
+
+A half hour later, changed from boots and breeches into evening dress,
+Benton was opening a long package which bore the name of his florist in
+town. In another moment he had spread a profusion of roses on his table
+and stood bending over them with the critically selective gaze of a
+Paris.
+
+When he had made the choice of one, he carefully pared every thorn from
+its long stem. Then he went out through the rear of the hall to a
+stairway at the back.
+
+He knew of a window-seat above, where he could wait in concealment
+behind a screening mass of potted palms to rise out of his ambush and
+intercept Cara as she came into the hall. It pleased him to regard
+himself as a genie, materializing out of emptiness to present the rose
+which she had chosen to declare unobtainable.
+
+In the shadowed recess he ensconced himself with his knees drawn up and
+the flower twirling idly between his fingers.
+
+For a while he measured his vigil only by the ticking of a clock
+somewhere out of sight, then he heard a quiet footfall on the hardwood,
+and through the fronds of the plants he saw a man's figure pace slowly
+by. The broad shoulders and the lancelike carriage proclaimed Von Ritz
+even before the downcast face was raised. At Cara's door the European
+wheeled uncertainly and paused. Because something vague and subconscious
+in Benton's mind had catalogued this man as a harbinger of trouble and
+branded him with distrust, his own eyes contracted and the rose ceased
+twirling.
+
+Just then the door of Cara's room opened and closed, and the slender
+figure of the girl stood out in the silhouette of her black evening gown
+against the white woodwork. Her eyes widened and she paled perceptibly.
+For an instant, she caught her lower lip between her teeth; but she did
+not, by start or other overt manifestation, give sign of surprise. She
+only inclined her head in greeting, and waited for Von Ritz to speak.
+
+He bowed low, and his manner was ceremonious.
+
+"You do not like me--" He smiled, pausing as though in doubt as to what
+form of address he should employ; then he asked: "What shall I call
+you?"
+
+"Miss Carstow," she prompted, in a voice that seemed to raise a
+quarantine flag above him.
+
+"Certainly, Miss Carstow," he continued gravely. "Time has elapsed since
+the days of your pinafores and braids, when I was honored with the
+sobriquet of 'Soldier-man' and you were the 'Little Empress.'"
+
+His voice was one that would have lent itself to eloquence. Now its even
+modulation carried a sort of cold charm.
+
+"You do not like me," he repeated.
+
+"I don't know," she answered simply. "I hadn't thought about it. I was
+surprised."
+
+"Naturally." He contemplated her with grave eyes that seemed to admit no
+play of expression. "I came only to ask an interview later. At any time
+that may be most agreeable--Pardon me," he interrupted himself with a
+certain cynical humor in his voice, "at any time, I should say, that may
+be least disagreeable to you."
+
+"I will tell you later," she said. He bowed himself backward, then
+turning on his heel went silently down the stairs.
+
+She stood hesitant for a moment, with both hands pressed against the
+door at her back, and her brow drawn in a deep furrow, then she threw
+her chin upward and shook her head with that resolute gesture which
+meant, with her, shaking off at least the outward seeming of annoyance.
+
+Benton came out from his hiding-place behind the palms, and she looked
+up at him with a momentary clearing of her brow.
+
+"Where were you?" she asked.
+
+"I unintentionally played eavesdropper," he said humbly, handing her the
+rose. "I was lying in wait to decorate you."
+
+"It is wonderful," she exclaimed. "I think it is the wonderfulest rose
+that any little girl ever had for a magic gift." She held it for a
+moment, softly against her cheek.
+
+He bent forward. "Cara!" he whispered. No answer. "Cara!" he repeated.
+
+"Yeth, thir," she lisped in a whimsical little-girl voice, looking up
+with a smile stolen from a fairy-tale.
+
+"I am just lending you that rose. I had meant to give it to you, but
+_now_ I want it back--when you are through with it. May I have it?"
+
+She held it out teasingly. "Do you want it now--Indian-giver?" she
+demanded.
+
+"You know I don't," in an injured tone.
+
+"I'm glad, because you couldn't have it--yet." And she was gone, leaving
+him to make his appearance from the direction of his own apartments.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE MOON OVERHEARS
+
+
+At dinner the talk ran for a course or two with the hounds, then strayed
+aimlessly into a dozen discursive channels.
+
+"My boy," whispered Mrs. Van from her end of the table, to Pagratide on
+her right, "I relinquish you to the girl on your other side. You have
+made a very brave effort to talk to me. Ah, I know--" raising a slender
+hand to still his polite remonstrance--"there is no Cara but Cara, and
+Pagratide is--" She let her mischief-laden smile finish the comment.
+
+"Her satellite," he confessed.
+
+"One of them," she wickedly corrected him.
+
+The foreigner turned his head and nodded gravely. Cara was listening to
+something that Benton was saying in undertone, her lips parted in an
+amused smile.
+
+Through a momentary lull as the coffee came, rose the voice of
+O'Barreton, the bore, near the head of the table; O'Barreton, who must
+be tolerated because as a master of hounds he had no superior and a bare
+quorum of equals.
+
+"For my part," he was saying, "I confess an augmented admiration for
+Van because he's distantly related to near-royalty. If that be snobbish,
+make the most of it."
+
+Van laughed. "Related to royalty?" he scornfully repeated. "Am I not
+myself a sovereign with the right on election day to stand in line
+behind my chauffeur and stable-boys at the voting-place?"
+
+"How did it happen, Van? How did you acquire your gorgeous relatives?"
+persisted O'Barreton.
+
+"Some day I'll tell you all about it. Do you think the Elkridge hounds
+will run--"
+
+"I addressed a question to you. That question is still before the
+house," interrupted O'Barreton, with dignity. "How did you acquire 'em?"
+
+"Inherited 'em!" snapped Van, but O'Barreton was not to be turned aside.
+
+"Quite true and quite epigrammatic," he persisted sweetly. "But how?"
+
+Van turned to the rest of the table. "You don't have to listen to this,"
+he said in despair. "I have to go through it with O'Barreton every time
+he comes here. It's a sort of ritual." Then, turning to the tormenting
+guest, he explained carefully: "Once upon a time the Earl of Dundredge
+had three daughters. The eldest--my mother--married an American husband.
+The second married an Englishman--she is the mother of my fair cousin,
+Cara, there; the third and youngest married the third son of the Grand
+Duke of Maritzburg, at that time a quiet gentleman who loved the Champs
+Elysees and landscape-painting in Southern Spain."
+
+Van traced a family-tree on the tablecloth with a salt-spoon, for his
+guest's better information.
+
+"That doesn't enlighten me on the semi-royal status of your Aunt
+Maritzburg," objected O'Barreton. "How did she grow so great?"
+
+"Vicissitudes, Barry," explained the host patiently. "Just vicissitudes.
+The father and the two elder brothers died off and left the third son to
+assume the government of a grand duchy, which he did not want, and
+compelled him to relinquish the mahl-stick and brushes which he loved.
+My aunt was his grand-duchess-consort, and until her death occupied with
+him the ducal throne. If you'd look these things up for yourself, my
+son, in some European 'Who's Who,' you'd remember 'em--and save me much
+trouble."
+
+After dinner Cara disappeared, and Benton wandered from room to room
+with a seemingly purposeless eye, keenly alert for a black gown, a red
+rose, and a girl whom he could not find. Von Ritz also was missing, and
+this fact added to his anxiety.
+
+In the conservatory he came upon Pagratide, likewise stalking about with
+restlessly roving eyes, like a hunter searching a jungle. The foreigner
+paused with one foot tapping the marble rim of a small fountain, and
+Benton passed with a nod.
+
+The evening went by without her reappearance, and finally the house
+darkened, and settled into quiet. Benton sought the open, driven by a
+restlessness that obsessed and troubled him. A fitful breeze brought
+down the dead leaves in swirling eddies. The moon was under a cloud-bank
+when, a quarter of a mile from the house, he left the smooth lawns and
+plunged among the vine-clad trees and thickets that rimmed the creek. In
+the darkness, he could hear the low, wild plaint with which the stream
+tossed itself over the rocks that cumbered its bed.
+
+Beyond the thicket he came again to a more open space among the trees,
+free from underbrush, but strewn at intervals with great bowlders. He
+picked his way cautiously, mindful of crevices where a broken leg or
+worse might be the penalty of a misstep in the darkness. The humor
+seized him to sit on a great rock which dropped down twenty feet to the
+creek bed, and listen to the quieting music of its night song. His eyes,
+grown somewhat accustomed to the darkness, had been blinded again by the
+match he had just struck to light a cigarette, and he walked, as it
+behooved him, carefully and gropingly.
+
+"Please, sir, don't step on me."
+
+Benton halted with a start and stared confusedly about him. A ripple of
+low laughter came to his ears as he widened his pupils in the effort to
+accommodate his eyes to the murk. Then the moon broke out once more and
+the place became one of silver light and dark, soft shadow-blots. She
+was sitting with her back against a tree, her knees gathered between her
+arms, fingers interlocked. She had thrown a long, rough cape about her,
+but it had fallen open, leaving visible the black gown and a spot he
+knew to be a red rose on her breast.
+
+He stood looking down, and she smiled up.
+
+"Cara!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here--alone?"
+
+"Seeking freedom," she responded calmly. "It's not so good as the hobo's
+fire beside the track, but it's better than four walls. The moon has
+been wonderful, Sir Gray Eyes--as bright and dark as life; radiant a
+little while and hidden behind clouds a great deal. And the wind has
+been whispering like a troubadour to the tree-tops."
+
+"And you," he interrupted severely, dropping on the earth at her feet
+and propping himself on one elbow, "have been sitting in the chilling
+air, with your throat uncovered and probably catching cold."
+
+"What a matter-of-fact person it is!" she laughed. "I didn't appoint you
+my physician, you know."
+
+[Illustration: "PLEASE, SIR, DON'T STEP ON ME."]
+
+"But your coming alone out here in these woods, and so late!" he
+expostulated.
+
+"Why not?" She looked frankly up at him. "I am not afraid."
+
+"I am afraid for you." He spoke seriously.
+
+"Why?" she inquired again.
+
+He knelt beside her, looking directly into her eyes. "For many reasons,"
+he said. "But above all else, because I love you."
+
+The fingers of her clasped hands tightened until they strained, and she
+looked straight away across the clearing. The moon was bright now, and
+the thought-furrow showed deep between her brows, but she said nothing.
+
+The tree-tops whispered, and the girl shivered slightly. He bent forward
+and folded the cape across her throat. Still she did not move.
+
+"Cara, I love you," he repeated insistently.
+
+"Don't--I can't listen." Her voice was one of forced calm. Then, turning
+suddenly, she laid her hand on his arm. It trembled violently under her
+touch. "And, oh, boy," she broke out, with a voice of pent-up vibrance,
+"don't you see how I want to listen to you?"
+
+He bent forward until he was very close, and his tone was almost fierce
+in its tense eagerness.
+
+"You want to! Why?"
+
+Again a tremor seized her, then with the sudden abandon of one who
+surrenders to an impulse stronger than one's self, she leaned forward
+and placed a hand on each of his shoulders, clutching him almost wildly.
+Her eyes glowed close to his own.
+
+"Because I love you, too," she said. Then, with a break in her voice:
+"Oh, you knew that! Why did you make me say it?"
+
+While the stars seemed to break out in a chorus above him, he found his
+arms about her, and was vaguely conscious that his lips were smothering
+some words her lips were trying to shape. Words seemed to him just then
+so superfluous.
+
+There was a tumult of pounding pulses in his veins, responsive to the
+fluttering heart which beat back of a crushed rose in the lithe being he
+held in his arms. Then he obeyed the pressure of the hands on his
+shoulders and released her.
+
+"Why should you find it so hard to say?" He asked.
+
+She sat for a moment with her hands covering her face.
+
+"You must never do that again," she said faintly. "You have not the
+right. I have not the right."
+
+"I have the only right," he announced triumphantly.
+
+She shook her head. "Not when the girl is engaged."
+
+She looked at him with a sad droop at the corners of her lips. He sat
+silent--waiting.
+
+"Listen!" She spoke wearily, rising and leaning against the rough bole
+of the tree at her back, with both hands tightly clasped behind her.
+"Listen and don't interrupt, because it's hard, and I want to finish
+it." Her words came slowly with labored calm, almost as if she were
+reciting memorized lines. "It sounds simple from your point of view. It
+is simple from mine, but desperately hard. Love is not the only thing.
+To some of us there is something else that must come first. I am
+engaged, and I shall marry the man to whom I am engaged. Not because I
+want to, but because--" her chin went up with the determination that was
+in her--"because I must."
+
+"What kind of man will ask you to keep a promise that your heart
+repudiates?" he hotly demanded.
+
+"He knew that I loved you before you knew it," she answered; "that I
+would always love you--that I would never love him. Besides, he must do
+it. After all, it's fortunate that he wants to." She tried to laugh.
+
+"Is his name Pagratide?" The man mechanically drew his handkerchief from
+his cuff, and wiped beads of cold moisture from his forehead.
+
+The girl shook her head. "No, his name is not Pagratide."
+
+He took a step nearer, but she raised a hand to wave him back, and he
+bowed his submission.
+
+"You love me--you are certain of that?" he whispered.
+
+"Do you doubt it?"
+
+"No," he said, "I don't doubt it."
+
+Again he pressed the handkerchief to his forehead, and in the silvering
+radiance of the moonlight she could see the outstanding tracery of the
+arteries on his temples.
+
+Instantly she flung both arms about his neck.
+
+"Don't!" she cried passionately. "Don't look like that! You will kill
+me!"
+
+He smiled. "Under such treatment, I shall look precisely as you say," he
+acquiesced.
+
+"Listen, dear." She was talking rapidly, wildly, her arms still about
+his neck. "There are two miserable little kingdoms over there....
+Horrible little two-by-four principalities, that fit into the map of
+Europe like little, ragged chips in a mosaic.... Cousin Van lied in
+there to protect my disguise.... It is my father who is the Grand Duke
+of Maritzburg, and it is ordained that I shall marry Prince Karyl of
+Galavia.... It was Von Ritz's mission to remind me of my slavery." Her
+voice rose in sudden protest. "Every peasant girl in the vineyards may
+select her own lover, but I must be awarded by the crowned heads of the
+real kingdoms--like a prize in a lottery. Do you wonder that I have run
+away and masqueraded for a taste of freedom before the end? Do you
+wonder"--the head came down on his shoulder--"that I want to be a hobo
+with a tomato-can and a fire of deadwood?"
+
+He kissed her hair. "Are you crying, Cara, dear?" he asked softly.
+
+Her head came up. "I never cry," she answered. "Do you believe there are
+more lives--other incarnations--that I may yet live to be a
+butterfly--or a vagrant bee?"
+
+"I believe"--his voice was firm--"I believe you are not Queen of Galavia
+yet by a good bit. There's a fairly husky American anarchist in this
+game, dearest, who has designs on that dynasty."
+
+"Don't!" she begged. "Don't you see that I wouldn't let them force me?
+It is that I see the inexorable call of it, as my father saw it when he
+left his studio in Paris for a throne that meant only unhappiness--as
+you would see it, if your country called for volunteers."
+
+He bowed his head. For a moment neither spoke. Then she took the rose
+from her breast and kissed it.
+
+"Sir Knight of the Red Rose," she said, with a pitifully forced smile.
+"I don't want to give it back--ever. I want to keep it always."
+
+He took her in his arms, and she offered no protest.
+
+"To-morrow is to-morrow," he said. "To-day you are mine. I love you."
+
+She took his head between her palms and drew his face down. "I shall
+never do this with anyone else," she said slowly, kissing his forehead.
+"I love you."
+
+Slowly they turned together toward the house.
+
+"I like your cavalryman, Pagratide," he said thoughtfully. His mind had
+suddenly recurred to the scene in the foreigner's room, and he thought
+he began to understand. "He is a man. He dares to challenge royal wrath
+by venturing his love in the lists against his prince."
+
+"I wish he had not come," she said slowly.
+
+"But you don't love him?" he demanded with sudden unreasoning jealousy.
+
+"I love--just, only, solely, you, Mr. Monopoly," she replied.
+
+At the door they paused. There was complete silence save for a clock
+striking two and the distant crowing of a cock. The pause belonged to
+them--their moment of reprieve.
+
+At last she said quietly: "But you are stupid not to guess it."
+
+"Guess what?" he inquired.
+
+"There is no Pagratide. Pagratide's real name is Karyl of Galavia."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+THE DOCTRINE ACCORDING TO JONESY
+
+
+If the living-room at "Idle Times" bore the impress of Van Bristow's
+individuality and taste, his den was the tangible setting of his
+personality.
+
+His marriage had, only eighteen months before, cut his life sharply with
+the boundary of an epoch. The den bore something of the atmosphere of a
+museum dedicated to past eras. It was crowded with useless junk that
+stood for divers memories and much wandering. Many of the pictures that
+cumbered the walls were redolent of the atmosphere of overseas.
+
+There were photographs wherein the master of "Idle Times" and Mr. George
+Benton appeared together, ranging from ancient football days to
+snapshots of a mountain-climbing expedition in the Andes, dated only two
+years back.
+
+It was into this sanctum that Benton clanked, booted and spurred, early
+the following morning.
+
+Ostensibly Van was looking over business letters, but there was a trace
+of wander-lust in the eyes that strayed off with dreamy truancy beyond
+the tree-tops.
+
+Benton planted himself before his host with folded arms, and stood
+looking down almost accusingly into the face of his old friend.
+
+"Whenever I have anything particularly unpleasant to do," began the
+guest, "I do it quick. That's why I'm here now."
+
+Van Bristow looked up, mildly astonished.
+
+During a decade of intimacy these two men had joyously, affectionately
+and consistently insulted each other on all possible occasions. Now,
+however, there was a certain purposeful ring in Benton's voice which
+told the other this was quite different from the time-honored
+affectation of slander. Consequently his demand for further
+enlightenment came with terse directness.
+
+Benton nodded and a defiant glint came to his pupils.
+
+"I come to serve notice," he announced briefly, "of something I mean to
+do."
+
+Van took the pipe from his mouth and regarded it with concentrated
+attention, while his friend went on in carefully gauged voice.
+
+"I am here," he explained, "as a guest in your house. I mean to make war
+on certain plans and arrangements which presumably have your sympathy
+and support--and I mean to make the hardest war I know." He paused, but
+as Van gave no indication of cutting in, he went on in aggressive
+announcement. "What I mean to do is my business--mine and a girl's--but
+since she is your kinswoman and this is your place, it wouldn't be quite
+fair to begin without warning."
+
+For a time Bristow's attitude remained that of deep and silent
+reflection. Finally he knocked the ashes from his pipe and came over
+until he stood directly confronting Benton.
+
+"So she has told you?" was his brief question at last.
+
+The other nodded.
+
+The master of "Idle Times" paced thoughtfully up and down the room. When
+at length he stopped it was to clap his hand on his class-mate's
+shoulder.
+
+"George," he said, with a voice hardened to edit down the note of
+sympathy that threatened it, "you seem to start out with the assumption
+that I am against you. Get that out of your head. Cara has hungered for
+freedom. We've felt that she had the right to, at least, her little
+intervals of recess. It happened that she could have them here. Here she
+could be Miss Carstow--and cease to be Cara of Maritzburg. I am sorry if
+you--and she--must pay for these vacations with your happiness. I see
+now that people who are sentenced to imprisonment, should not play with
+liberty."
+
+"She is not going to play with liberty," declared Benton categorically.
+"She is going to have it. She is going to have for the rest of her life
+just what she wants." He lifted his hand in protest against anticipated
+interruption. "I know that you have got to line up with your royal
+relatives. I know the utter impossibility of what I want--but I'm going
+to win. If you regard me as a burglar, you may turn me out, but you
+can't stop me."
+
+"I sha'n't turn you out," mused Van quietly. "I wish you could win. But
+you are not merely fighting people. You are fighting an idea. It is only
+for an idea that men and women martyr themselves. With Cara this idea
+has become morbid--an obsession. She has inherited it together with an
+abnormally developed courage, and her conception of courage is to face
+what she most hates and fears."
+
+"But if I can show her that it is a mistaken courage--that instead of
+loyalty it is desertion?" The man spoke with quick eagerness.
+
+Van shook his head, and his eyes clouded with the gravity of sympathy
+for a futile resolve.
+
+"That you can't do. I am an American myself. I'm not policing thrones.
+To me it seems a monstrous thing that a girl superbly American in
+everything but the accident of birth should have no chance--no
+opportunity to escape life-imprisonment. It doesn't altogether
+compensate that the prison happens to be a palace."
+
+For a time neither spoke, then Bristow went on.
+
+"At the age of five, Cara stood before a mirror and critically surveyed
+herself. At the end of the scrutiny she turned away with a satisfied
+sigh. 'I finks I'm lovely,' she announced. At five one is frank. Her
+verdict has since then been duly and reliably confirmed by everyone who
+has known her--yet she might as well have been born into unbeautiful,
+hopeless slavery."
+
+Benton went to the window and stood moodily looking out. Finally he
+wheeled to demand: "How did the crown of Maritzburg come to your uncle?"
+
+"When he married my aunt," said Bristow, "he fancied himself
+safe-guarded from the ducal throne by two older brothers. That's why he
+was able to choose his own wife. He was dedicated with passionate
+loyalty to his brushes and paint tubes. He saw before him achievement of
+that sort. Assassination claimed his father and brothers, and, facing
+the same peril, he took up the distasteful duties of government. My
+aunt's life was intolerably shadowed by the terror of violence for him.
+She died at Cara's birth and the child inherited all the protest and
+acceptance so paradoxically bequeathed by her heart-broken mother."
+
+"Realizing that Cara could not hope to escape a royal marriage, her
+father looked toward Galavia. There at least the strain was clean ...
+untouched by degeneracy and untainted with libertinism. Karyl is as
+decent a chap as yourself. He loves her, and though he knows she accepts
+him only from compulsion, he believes he can eventually win her love as
+well as her mere acquiescence. It's all as final as the laws of the
+Medes and Persians."
+
+Again there was a long silence. Bristow began to wonder if it was, with
+his friend, the silence of despair and surrender. At last Benton lifted
+his face and his jaw was set unyieldingly.
+
+"Personally," he commented quietly, "I have decided otherwise."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Despite the raw edge on the air, the hardier guests at "Idle Times"
+still clung to those outdoor sports which properly belonged to the
+summer. That afternoon a canoeing expedition was made up river to
+explore a cave which tradition had endowed with some legendary tale of
+pioneer days and Indian warfare.
+
+Pagratide, having organized the expedition with that object in view, had
+made use of his prior knowledge to enlist Cara for the crew of his
+canoe, but Benton, covering a point that Pagratide had overlooked,
+pointed out that an engagement to go up the river in a canoe is entirely
+distinct from an engagement to come down the river in a canoe. He cited
+so many excellent authorities in support of his contention that the
+matter was decided in his favor for the return trip, and Mrs.
+Porter-Woodleigh, all unconscious that her escort was a Crown Prince,
+found in him an introspective and altogether uninteresting young man.
+
+Benton and the girl in one canoe, were soon a quarter of a mile in
+advance of the others, and lifting their paddles from the water they
+floated with the slow current. The singing voices of the party behind
+them came softly adrift along the water. All of the singers were young
+and the songs had to do with sentiment.
+
+The girl buttoned her sweater closer about her throat. The man stuffed
+tobacco into the bowl of his pipe and bent low to kindle it into a
+cheerful spot of light.
+
+A belated lemon afterglow lingered at the edge of the sky ahead. Against
+it the gaunt branches of a tall tree traced themselves starkly. Below
+was the silent blackness of the woods.
+
+Suddenly Benton raised his head.
+
+"I have a present for you," he announced.
+
+"A present?" echoed the girl. "Be careful, Sir Gray Eyes. You played the
+magician once and gave me a rose. It was such a wonderful rose"--she
+spoke almost tenderly,--"that it has spoiled me. No commonplace gift
+will be tolerated after that."
+
+"This is a different sort of present," he assured her. "This is a god."
+
+"A what!" Cara was at the stern with the guiding paddle. The man leaned
+back, steadying the canoe with a hand on each gunwale, and smiled into
+her face.
+
+"Yes," he said, "he is a god made out of clay with a countenance that is
+most unlovely and a complexion like an earthenware jar. I acquired him
+in the Andes for a few _centavos_. Since then we have been companions.
+In his day he had his place in a splendid temple of the Sun Worshipers.
+When I rescued him he was squatting cross-legged on a counter among
+silver and copper trinkets belonging to a civilization younger than his
+own. When you've been a god and come to be a souvenir of ruins and dead
+things--" the man paused for a moment, then with the ghost of a laugh
+went on, "--it makes you see things differently. In the twisted squint
+of his small clay face one reads slight regard for mere systems and
+codes."
+
+He paused so long that she prompted him in a voice that threatened to
+become unsteady. "Tell me more about him. What is his godship's name?"
+
+"He looked so protestingly wise," Benton went on, "that I named him
+Jonesy. I liked that name because it fitted him so badly. Jonesy is not
+conventional in his ideas, but his morals are sound. He has seen
+religions and civilizations and dynasties flourish and decay, and it has
+all given him a certain perspective on life. He has occasionally given
+me good council."
+
+He paused again, but, noting that the singing voices were drawing
+nearer, he continued more rapidly.
+
+"In Alaska I used to lie flat on my cot before a great open fire and his
+god-ship would perch cross-legged on my chest. When I breathed, he
+seemed to shake his fat sides and laugh. When a pagan god from Peru
+laughs at you in a Yukon cabin, the situation calls for attention. I
+gave attention.
+
+"Jonesy said that the major human motives sweep in deep channels,
+full-tide ahead. He said you might in some degree regulate their floods
+by rearing abutments, but that when you try to build a dam to stop the
+Amazon you are dealing with folly. He argued that when one sets out to
+dam up the tides set flowing back in the tributaries of the heart it is
+written that one must fail. That is the gospel according to Jonesy."
+
+He turned his face to the front and shot the canoe forward. There was
+silence except for the quiet dipping of their paddles, the dripping of
+the water from the lifted blades, and the song drifting down river.
+Finally Benton added:
+
+"I don't know what he will say to you, but perhaps he will give you good
+advice--on those matters which the centuries can't change."
+
+Cara's voice came soft, with a hint of repressed tears. "He has already
+given me good advice, dear--" she said, "good advice that I can't
+follow."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+IT IS DECIDED TO MASQUERADE
+
+
+The first day of quail-shooting found Van Bristow's guests afield.
+
+Separated from the others, Benton and Cara came upon a small grove, like
+an oasis in the stretching acres of stubble. Under a scarlet maple that
+reared itself skyward all aflame, and shielded by a festooning profusion
+of wild-grape, a fallen beech-trunk offered an inviting seat. The girl
+halted and grounded arms.
+
+The man seated himself at her feet and looked up. He framed a question,
+then hesitated, fearing the answer. Finally he spoke, controlling his
+voice with an effort.
+
+"Cara," he questioned, "how long have I?"
+
+Her eyes widened as if with terror. "A very--very little time, dear,"
+she said. "It frightens me to think how little. Then--then--nothing but
+memory. Do you realize what it all means?" She leaned forward and laid a
+hand on each of his shoulders. "Just one week more, and after that I
+shall look out to sea when the sun sinks, red and sullen, into leaden
+waters and think of--of Arcady--and you."
+
+"Don't, Cara!" He seized her hands and went on talking fast and
+vehemently. "Listen! I love you--that is not a unique thing. You love
+me--that is the miracle. And because of a distorted idea of duty, our
+lives must go to wreck. Don't you see the situation is
+ludicrous--intolerable? You are trying to live a medieval life in a day
+of wireless telegraph and air ships."
+
+She nodded. "But what are we going to do about it?" she questioned
+simply.
+
+"Cara, dear--if I could find a way!" he pleaded eagerly. "Suppose I
+could play the magician!"
+
+He rose and stood back of the log.
+
+She leaned back so that she might look into his eyes. "I wish you
+could," she mused with infinite weariness.
+
+He stooped suddenly and kissed the drooping lips with a resentful sense
+of the monstrous injustice of a scheme of things wherein such lips could
+droop.
+
+"No, no, no!" she cried. "You must not! I've got to be Queen of
+Galavia--I've got to be his wife." Then, in a quick, half-frightened
+tone: "Yet when you are with me I can't help it. It's wicked to love
+you--and I do."
+
+He smiled through the misery of his own frown. "Am I so bad as that?" he
+questioned.
+
+"You are so bad"--she suddenly caught his hands in hers and slowly
+shook her head--"that I don't trust myself on the same side of the road
+with you. You must go across and sit on that opposite side." She lightly
+kissed his forehead. "That's a kiss before exile--now go."
+
+He measured the distance with disapproving eyes. "That must be fifteen
+feet away," he protested, "and my arms are not a yard long." He
+stretched them out, viewing them ruefully.
+
+"Go!" she repeated with sternness.
+
+He obeyed slowly, his face growing sullen.
+
+"If I am to stay here until I recant what I said about your odious
+kingdom and your miserable throne, I'll--I'll--" He cast about for a
+sufficiently rebellious sentiment, then resolutely asserted: "I'll stay
+here until I rot in my chains." He raised his hands and shook imaginary
+manacles. "Clink! Clink! Clink!" he added dramatically.
+
+"You are being punished for being too fascinating to a poor little fool
+princess who has played truant and who doesn't want to go back to
+school." She talked on with forced levity. "As for the kingdom,"--once
+more her eyes became wistful--"you may say what you like about it. You
+can't possibly hate it as much as I. There is no anarchist screaming his
+adherence to the red flag or inventing infernal machines, who hates all
+thrones as much as the one small girl who must needs be Queen of
+Galavia. No, _lese-majeste_ is not the fault for which you are being
+punished."
+
+For a while he was silent, then his voice was raised in exile, almost
+cheerfully.
+
+"Destiny is stronger than the paretic councils of little inbred kings.
+Why, Cara, I can get one good, husky Methodist preacher who can do in
+five minutes what I hardly think your royalties can undo--ever."
+
+"Oh, don't!" she stopped him with plaintive appeal. "I know all that. I
+know it. Don't you realize that the longer the flight into the open blue
+of the skies, the harder the return to a gilt cage? But, dearest--there
+is such a thing as keeping one's parole. I must go back, unless I am
+held by a force stronger than I. I must go back. I have been here almost
+too long."
+
+"Cara," he said slowly, "I, too, have a sense of duty. It is to you. The
+open blue of the skies is yours by right--divine right. You have nothing
+to do with cages, gilt or otherwise. My duty is to free you. I mean to
+do it. I haven't finished thinking it out yet, but I am going to find
+the way."
+
+Her answering voice was deeply grave.
+
+"If you just devise a situation where I shall have to fight it all out
+again, you will only make it harder for me. I must do what I must do. I
+could only be rescued by some power stronger than myself. Come, let's
+go back."
+
+At dinner that same evening Mrs. Van announced to her guests that "by
+request of one who should be nameless," punctuating her pledge of
+secrecy with a pronounced glance at Benton, there would be a masquerade
+affair on the evening before Cara's departure for New York. She said
+this was to be an informal sort of frolic in fancy dress, and the only
+requirement would be that every grown-up should for an evening return to
+childhood.
+
+On the next morning ensued a hegira from the place, the object whereof
+was guarded with the most diplomatic deception and secrecy.
+
+"Why this unanimous desertion?" demanded Van indignantly from the head
+of the table when it began to develop that an exodus impended. "Do your
+appetites crave the stimulus of city cooking? Are you leaving my simple
+roof for the lobster palaces?"
+
+Benton shook his head. "Singular," he commented, studying his
+grape-fruit with the air of an oracle gazing into crystal. "There, for
+example, is Colonel Centress who will probably tell you that he has had
+an imperative summons to confer with his brokers and--"
+
+He paused, while the ancient beau across the table quickly nodded
+affirmation.
+
+"Quite so. How did you guess it?" he inquired.
+
+"Never talk business at table, of course, but this is a mysterious
+flurry in stocks--quite a mysterious flurry."
+
+"Quite so," echoed Benton. "Nevertheless, if you were to shadow the
+gallant Colonel in Manhattan to-day he would probably lead you to a
+costuming tailor, where you would discover him in the act of being
+fitted with a Roman toga or a crusader's mail."
+
+Mrs. Porter-Woodleigh shot a malicious glance at the tall foreigner
+whose emotionless face proved a constant irritation to her exuberant
+vivacity. "I understand, Colonel Von Ritz," she innocently suggested,
+"that you are to impersonate a polar bear."
+
+The Galavian smiled deep in his eyes only; his lips remained sober. One
+would have said that he had not recognized the thrust. "I shall only
+remain myself," he replied. "I am allowed to be a looker-on in Venice."
+
+Under her breath the widow confided to her next neighbor: "Ah! then it
+is true."
+
+"What are _you_ going to town for?" demanded Mrs. Van, looking
+accusingly at Benton, as that gentleman arose from the table.
+
+"I should say," he laughingly responded, "that I am going to complete
+final arrangements for getting the Isis into commission, but nobody
+would believe me. You are all becoming so diplomatic of late!"
+
+Von Ritz glanced up casually. "There is one very dangerous
+diplomacy--one very difficult to become accustomed to," he commented.
+"I allude to the American diplomacy of frankness."
+
+"The _Isis_? To think I have never seen your yacht!" mused Cara. "And
+yet you are allowing me to cross on a steamer."
+
+"If she could be put in shape so soon," declared Benton regretfully,
+glancing from Von Ritz to Pagratide, "I should shanghai Mrs. Van for a
+chaperon and give a party to Europe. Unfortunately I can't get her in
+readiness promptly enough; unless," he added hopefully, "Miss Carstow
+can postpone her sailing-day?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+IN WHICH ROMEO BECOMES DROMIO
+
+
+When Benton had straightened out his car for the run to the city, and
+the road had begun to slip away under the tires, he turned to McGuire,
+his chauffeur.
+
+"McGuire," he inquired, "where is the runabout?"
+
+"At 'Idle Times,' sir. You loaned it to Mr. Bristow to fill up the
+garage."
+
+"I remember. Now, listen!" And as Benton talked a slow grin of
+contentment spread across the visage of Mr. McGuire, hinting of some
+enterprise that appealed to his venturesome soul with a lure beyond the
+ordinary.
+
+In the city, Benton was a busy man, though his visit to the costumer's
+was brief. Coming out of the place, he fancied he caught a glimpse of
+Von Ritz, but the view was fleeting and he decided that his eyes must
+have deceived him. He had himself patronized a rather obscure shop,
+recommended by Mr. McGuire. Von Ritz would presumably have selected some
+more fashionable purveyor of disguises even had his assertion that he
+would not masquerade been made only to deceive. Perhaps, thought the
+American, Colonel Von Ritz was becoming an obsession with him, merely
+because he stood for Galavia and the threat of royalty's mandate. He was
+convinced of this later in the day, when he once more fancied that a
+disappearing pair of broad shoulders belonged to the European. This time
+he laughed at the idea. The surroundings made the supposition ludicrous.
+It was among the tawdry shops of ship chandlers in the East Side, where
+he himself had gone in search of certain able seamen in the company of
+the sailing-master of the _Isis_. Von Ritz would hardly be consorting
+with the fo'castle men who frequent the water front below Brooklyn
+Bridge.
+
+The few days of the last week raced by, with all the charm of sky and
+field that the magic of Indian summer can lavish, and for Benton and
+Cara, they raced also with the sense of fast-slipping hope and
+relentlessly marching doom. Outwardly Cara set a pace for vivacious and
+care-free enjoyment that left Mrs. Porter-Woodleigh, the
+"semi-professional light-hearted lady," as O'Barreton named her, "to
+trail along in the ruck." Alone with Benton, there was always the furrow
+between the brows and the distressed gaze upon the mystery beyond the
+sky-line, but Pagratide and Von Ritz were vigilant, to the end that
+their tete-a-tetes were few.
+
+Neither Benton nor Cara had alluded to the man's overbold assertion that
+he would find a way. It was a futile thing said in eagerness. The day of
+the dance, the last day they could hope for together, came unprefaced by
+development. To-morrow she must take up her journey and her duty: her
+holiday would be at its end. It was all the greater reason why this
+evening should be memorable. He should think of her afterward as he saw
+her to-night, and it pleased her that in the irresponsibility of the
+maskers she should appear to him in the garb of vagabond liberty, since
+in fact freedom was impossible to her.
+
+As the kaleidoscope of the first dance sifted and shifted its pattern of
+color, three men stood by the door, scanning the disguised figures with
+watchful eyes.
+
+One of the three was fantastically arrayed as a cannibal chief, in brown
+fleshings, with cuffs upon his ankles, gaudy decorations about his neck,
+and huge rings in nose and ears.
+
+The second man was a Bedouin: a camel-driver of the Libyan Desert. From
+the black horsehair circlet on his temples a turban-scarf fell to his
+shoulders. He was wrapped in a brown cashmere cloak which dropped
+domino-like to his ankles. Shaggy brows ran in an unbroken line from
+temple to temple, masking his eyes, while a fierce mustache and beard
+obliterated the contour of his lower face. His cheek-bones and forehead
+showed, under some dye, as dark as leather, and as his gaze searchingly
+raked the crowds, he fingered a string of Moslem prayer-beads.
+
+The third man was conspicuous in ordinary dress. Save for the decoration
+of the Order of Takavo, suspended by a crimson ribbon on his
+shirt-front, and the Star of Galavia, on the left lapel of his coat,
+there was no break in the black and white scheme of his evening clothes.
+Von Ritz had told the truth. He was not disguised. He stood, his arms
+folded on his breast, towering above the Fiji Islander, possibly a
+quarter of an inch taller than the Bedouin. A half-amused smile lurked
+in his steady eyes--the smile of unwavering brows and dispassionately
+steady mouth-line.
+
+The cannibal chief waved his hand. "Bright the lamps shone o'er fair
+women and brave men!" he declaimed, in a disguised voice; then scowled
+about him villainously, remembering that an affable quoting of Lord
+Byron is incompatible with the qualities of a man-eating savage.
+
+The Bedouin gravely inclined his head. "_Allahu Akbar!_" he responded,
+in a soft voice.
+
+Suddenly the caravan driver commenced a hurried and zigzag course across
+the crowded floor. The eyes of Colonel Von Ritz indolently followed.
+
+Through a low-silled window a girl had just entered, carrying herself
+with the untrammeled freedom of some wild thing, erect, poised from the
+waist, rhythmic in motion. Her walk was like the scansion of good verse.
+The Bedouin caught the grace before the ensemble of costume met his eye.
+It was in harmony.
+
+She wore a silk skirt to the ankles, and about her waist and hips was
+bound the yellow and red sash of the Spanish gipsy, tightly knotted, and
+falling at its tasseled ends. Her arms were bare to the elbows, and gay
+with bracelets; her hair fell from her forehead and temples, dropping
+over her shoulders in two ribbon bound braids. A tall, gray-cowled monk,
+whose military bearing gave the lie to his cassock, a Spanish grandee,
+and a fool in motley saw her at the same moment and hurried to intercept
+her, but with a slide which carried him a quarter of the way across the
+floor the Bedouin arrived first, and before the others had come up he
+was drifting away with her in the tide of the dancers.
+
+"Allah is good to me--Flamencine," whispered the camel-driver as he drew
+her close to avoid a careless dancer.
+
+"Why, Flamencine?" demanded a carefully altered voice, from which,
+however, the music had not been eliminated.
+
+"Don't you remember?" The Arab stole a covert, identifying glance down
+at the tip of one ear which showed under its masking of brown hair--an
+ear that looked as though it were chiseled from the pink coral of
+Capri. He quoted:
+
+
+     "'There was a gipsy maiden within the forest green,
+     There was a gipsy maiden who shook a tambourine.
+     The stars of night had not the face,
+     The woodland wind had not the grace,
+       Of Flamencine.'"
+
+
+Then the music stopped, and with its silencing came the monk, the clown,
+the grandee, and others.
+
+In the insistent demand of the many the Arab had too few dances with the
+Spanish girl. There were Comanches, Samurai, policemen, Zulus and
+courtiers, who, seeing her dance, discovered that their immediate
+avocation was dancing with her.
+
+Yet it wanted an hour of unmasking time when a Bedouin led a gipsy
+maiden from Andalusia into the deserted library, where the darkness was
+broken only by blazing logs on an open hearth.
+
+When they were alone he turned to her anxiously. His voice was freighted
+with appeal. Her face, now unmasked, wore an expression of stunned
+misery.
+
+"Dear," he asked, "how are you?"
+
+She gazed at the flickering logs. "I should think you would know," she
+answered wearily. Then, with a mirthless laugh, she spread both hands
+toward the blaze. "I'm looking ahead--I can see it all there in the
+fire." Her fingers convulsively clenched themselves until blue marks
+showed against the pink palms.
+
+He pushed a chair forward for her, but with a shake of her head she
+declined it.
+
+"Whoever heard of a gipsy girl sitting in a leather chair?" she
+demanded. "It's more like--like some effete princess."
+
+She dropped to the Persian rug and, gathering her knees between her
+clasped hands, sat looking into the dying blaze. "For a few brief
+minutes I am the gipsy girl," she added.
+
+"And," he said, dropping cross-legged to the rug at her side, "when the
+caravan halts at evening, and prayers have been said facing Mecca, and
+the grunting camels kneel, to be unloaded, neither do we, the gipsies of
+the desert, sit in chairs." He swayed slightly toward her, lowering his
+voice to a whisper. As the soft touch of her shoulder brushed him and
+electrified him, his cashmere-draped arms closed around her and held her
+hungrily to him. The vagrant maiden of Andalusia and the caravan-driver
+of Africa sat gazing together at the glowing pictures in the logs as
+they turned slowly to ashes.
+
+"Cara," he went on in a voice of pent-up earnestness, "we be nomads--we
+two. 'The scarlet of the maples can shake us like the cry of bugles
+going by.' Come away with me while there is time. Let us follow out our
+destinies where gipsy blood calls us; in the desert, the jungle,
+wherever you say. Let your fancy be our guide--your heart our compass.
+Suppose"--he paused and, with one outstretched arm, pointed to the
+fire--"suppose that to be a camp-fire--what do you see in the coals?"
+
+"I have already told you," she said wearily. "I see a throne, a life
+with all the confining littleness of a prison, with none of the breadth
+of an empire. I see the sacrifice of all I love. I see year upon year of
+purple desolation.... Purple is the color of mourning and royalty."
+
+She fell silent, and he spoke slowly.
+
+"I see the desert, many-hued, like an opal with the setting of the sun.
+I see the flickering of camp-fires and the palm-fringe of an oasis. I
+see the tapering minarets of a mosque, and the long booths of the
+bazaars. I smell the scent of the perfume-seller's stall, the heavy
+sweetness of attar of roses.... I hear the tinkle of camel bells....
+There comes a change.... I see a mountain-pass and a mule-train crawling
+through the dust, I see the paths that go around the world. Which of our
+pictures do you prefer?"
+
+She gave a pained, low cry, and buried her face passionately on his
+shoulder. "Oh, you know, you know!" she cried, in a piteous voice. "And
+you love me, yet you tempt me to break my parole. If I could do it and
+be freed of the responsibility! If a miracle could work itself!"
+
+"Cara," he whispered, resolutely steadying himself, "don't forget the
+gospel according to Jonesy. You can't dam up the tributaries of the
+heart. Some day you must come to me. That much is immutably written. For
+God's sake come now while the road is still clear. Otherwise we shall
+grope our ways to each other, even if it be through tragedy--through
+hell itself."
+
+For a moment she gazed at him with wide eyes.
+
+"I know it--" she whispered in a frightened voice. "I know it--and yet I
+must go ahead."
+
+He rose and lifted her; then as she stood clinging to him he said: "I
+ask your forgiveness if I've made it harder--and one boon. Slip away
+with me and give me an hour with you."
+
+"They will find me. Pagratide and Von Ritz will find me," she objected
+helplessly. "They won't let us be alone for long."
+
+"Listen," he replied. "It is not too cold and the moon is brilliant. It
+is the last real moon for me. Come with me in my car for a while."
+
+"You must not make love to me," she stipulated. "I am going to try to
+get my face properly composed--and if you make love to me, I can't.
+Besides, when you make love I'm rather afraid of you. So you mustn't."
+
+Then, with a wild spasmodic gesture, she caught the edges of his
+cashmere cloak and gripped them tightly in both hands as she looked up
+into his eyes and impetuously contradicted herself.
+
+"Yes, please do," she appealed.
+
+He laughed. "Destiny says I must make love to you," he asserted, "and
+who am I to disobey Destiny?"
+
+Outside, she insisted upon waiting by the bridge while he went for his
+car. So he turned and started alone to the point on the driveway just
+around the angle of the house, where McGuire, pursuant to previous
+orders, was to be waiting with the machine. It had been only an hour
+since Benton had slipped away from the dancers and consulted with
+McGuire in the shadow of the wall, instructing him explicitly in his
+duties. McGuire was to wait with the machine ready upon call. The lamps
+were not to be lighted. When Benton came, the chauffeur was to run the
+car to the point where a lady should enter it. He was at that point to
+leave, without words. It had been impressed on McGuire that utter
+silence was imperative. The chauffeur was then to follow in the
+runabout, acting as a reserve in the event of need. Both cars were to
+take a certain circuitous route to a point on the shore thirty miles
+distant, the runabout keeping just close enough to hold the first car
+in sight. McGuire had listened and understood. Yet now McGuire was
+missing, together with one very necessary motor-car.
+
+As Benton stood, boiling with wrath at the miscarriage of his plans, he
+fancied he heard the soft muffled song of his motor just beyond the turn
+where the road circled the house. He bent and held a lighted match close
+to the gravel. On a muddied spot he found the easily recognizable tread
+of his tires. The car had been there. For the sake of speed he ran to
+the garage near by and took a swift look at the runabout. It was
+waiting, and, thanks to the God of Machines, would start on compression.
+He flung himself to the driver's seat and gave it the spark. Far
+away--about as far as the bridge, he calculated--he heard one short,
+cautious blast of an automobile horn.
+
+Just before the last turn brought him to the bridge, where he should
+meet Cara, he noticed a man hurrying toward him, on foot, and recognized
+McGuire. Totally mystified, he slowed down the machine.
+
+"Get in, you infernal blockhead," he called. "Tell me about it as we go.
+I'm in a hurry."
+
+But McGuire performed strangely. He clapped one hand to his forehead and
+looked at his employer out of large, wild eyes. "Am I dippy? My God! Am
+I dippy?" he exclaimed, repeating the question over and over in a low,
+trembling voice.
+
+"Apparently you are. Get in, damn you!" Benton ordered.
+
+"It's weird," declared McGuire. "It's damned weird."
+
+"Why, sir," he ran on, talking fast, now that the first shock was over
+and his tongue again loosened. "Either I've made a fool mistake, or else
+I'm crazier than hell. I waited at the place you said. You--or your
+ghost--came and took his seat, and waved his hand. I started the car for
+the bridge. He didn't say a word. At the bridge I jumped out. He was
+you--and yet you are here--same size--same costume--same beard--even the
+same beads around the neck."
+
+They had almost reached the bridge and were slowing down when Benton,
+scanning the road, empty in the moonlight, grasped for the first time a
+definite suspicion of what had happened.
+
+"Cara!" he shouted. "Good God, where is she?"
+
+The chauffeur leaned over and shouted into his ear. "I'm telling you,
+sir. The lady's in that other car--with that other edition of you. And,
+sir--beggin' your pardon--they're beatin' it like hell!"
+
+Benton's only answer was to feed gas to the spark so frantically that
+the car seemed to rise from the ground and shiver before it settled
+again. Then it shot forward and reeled crazily into a speed never
+intended for a curving road at night.
+
+The moonlight fell on a gray streak of a car, driven by a maniac with a
+scarf blowing back from a turban over two wildly gleaming eyes.
+
+Back at "Idle Times" a Capuchin monk, wandering apart from the dancers
+in consonance with the austere proclaiming of his garb, was studying the
+frivolous gamboling of a school of fountain gold-fish in the
+conservatory. He looked up, scowling, to take a note from a servant.
+
+"Colonel Von Ritz said to hand this to the gentleman masquerading as a
+monk," explained the man.
+
+"Von Ritz," growled the monk. "He annoys me."
+
+He impatiently tore open the letter and scanned it. His brows contracted
+in astonished mystification, then slowly his eyes narrowed and kindled.
+
+The scrawl ran:
+
+"Your Highness: If you see neither Mr. Benton, masquerading as an Arab,
+her Highness, the Princess, nor myself in ten minutes from the time of
+receiving this, take the car which you will find ready in the garage. My
+orderly will be there to act as your chauffeur. Follow the main road to
+the second village. Turn there to the right, and drive to the small
+bay, where you will find me or an explanation. I have been conducting
+certain investigations. The affair is urgent and touches matters of
+great import to Europe as well us to Your Highness."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+IN WHICH DROMIO BECOMES ROMEO
+
+
+When Cara, waiting at the bridge, had seen the car flash up, a bearded
+Bedouin at the wheel, she had leaped lightly to the seat beside him,
+without waiting for the machine to come to a full stop; then she had
+thrown herself back luxuriously on the cushions with a sigh of
+satisfaction, and had only said: "Drive me fast."
+
+For a long time she lay back, drinking, in long draughts, the spiced
+night air, frosted only enough to give it flavor. There was no necessity
+for speech, and above, the stars glittered lavishly, despite the white
+light of the moon.
+
+At last she murmured half-aloud and almost contentedly: "'Who knows but
+the world may end to-night?'"
+
+Above the throbbing purr of the engine which had already done ten miles,
+the man beside her caught the voice, but missed the words. He bent
+forward.
+
+"I beg your pardon?" he politely inquired.
+
+At the question she started violently, and both hands came to her heart
+with a spasmodic movement. Von Ritz carried the car around an ugly rut.
+
+"Don't be alarmed, Your Highness," he said, in a cold, evenly modulated
+voice which, though pitched low, carried clearly above the noise of the
+cylinders. "I may call you 'Your Highness' now, may I not? We are quite
+alone. Or do you still prefer that I respect your incognita?"
+
+The girl's eyes blazed upon him until he could feel their intense
+focusing, though he kept his own fixed unbendingly on the road ahead.
+Finally she mastered her anger enough to speak.
+
+"Colonel Von Ritz," she commanded, "you will take me back at once!" She
+drew herself as far away from him as the space on the seat permitted.
+
+"Your Highness's commands are supreme." The man spoke in the same even
+voice. "I intend taking Your Highness back--when it is safer for Your
+Highness to go back."
+
+He turned the car suddenly to the right and sped along the narrower road
+that led away from the main thoroughfare.
+
+"You will take me back, now. I had not supposed that to a gentleman--"
+Her voice choked into silence and her eyes filled with angry tears.
+
+"Your Highness misunderstands," he said coldly. "I obey the throne. If I
+live long enough to serve it in another reign, Your Highness will be
+Your Majesty. Yet even then will your commands be no more supreme to
+me--no more sacred--than now. But even then, Your Highness--"
+
+"Call me Miss Carstow," she interrupted in impassioned anger. "I will
+have my freedom for to-night at least."
+
+"Yet even then, Miss Carstow," he calmly resumed, "when danger threatens
+you or your throne, I shall take such means as I can to avert that
+danger, as I am doing now. Even though"--for a moment the cold, metallic
+evenness left his voice and a human note stole into his words--"even
+though the reward be contempt."
+
+She did not answer.
+
+"Your High--Miss Carstow,"--Von Ritz spoke with a deferential
+finality--"believe me, some things are inevitable."
+
+Suddenly the car stopped.
+
+The girl made a movement as though she would rise, but the man's arm
+quietly stretched itself across before her, not touching her, but
+forming an effective barrier.
+
+She did not speak, but her eyes blazed indignantly. For the first time
+he was able to return her gaze directly, and as she looked into the
+unflinching gray pupils, under the level brows, there was a momentary
+combat, then her own dropped. He sat for a space with his arm
+outstretched, holding her prisoner in the seat.
+
+"Your Highness"--he spoke as impersonally as a judge ruling from the
+bench--"I must remind you again that I am your escort to-night only in
+order that someone else may not be. What his plans were, I need not now
+say, but I know, and it became my duty to thwart him. It is hardly
+necessary to explain how I discovered Mr. Benton's purpose. It was not
+easy, but it has been accomplished. I have acquainted myself with his
+movements, his intention, and his preparations; I have even
+counterfeited his masquerade and stolen his car. There are bigger things
+at stake than individual wishes. I stand for the throne. Mr. Benton has
+played a daring game--and lost."
+
+He paused, and she found herself watching with a strange fascination the
+face almost marble-like in its steadiness.
+
+"Some day--perhaps soon," he went on, the arm unmoved, "you will be
+Queen of Galavia." She shuddered. "You can then strip away my epaulets
+if you choose. For the moment, however, I must regard you as a prisoner
+of war and ask your parole, as a gentleman and an officer, not to leave
+the car while I investigate the trouble with the motor. Otherwise--" he
+added composedly, "we shall have to remain as we are."
+
+She hesitated, her chin thrown up and her eyes blazing; then, with a
+glance at the unmoving arm, she bowed reluctant assent.
+
+"All I promise is to remain in the car," she said. "May I go back into
+the tonneau?"
+
+Satisfying himself that the engine was temporarily dead, he responded,
+with a half-smile, "That promise I think is sufficient."
+
+He bent to his task of diagnosis. After much futile spinning of the
+crank, he rose and contemplated the stalled engine.
+
+"Since this machine went out with lamps unlighted, and I have no matches
+in this garb, I must go to that farmhouse up the hillside--where the
+light shines through the trees--. Will Your Highness regard your parole
+as effective until my return, not to leave the car? Yes? I thank Your
+Highness; I shall not be long."
+
+The girl for answer honked the horn in several loud blasts, and he
+stopped with a murmured apology to silence it by tearing off the bulb
+and throwing it to one side.
+
+The Colonel turned and took his way through the woods, statuesquely
+upright and spectral in his long Arab cloak.
+
+Benton and McGuire had just passed the crossing where Von Ritz had left
+the main road, when McGuire's quick ear caught the familiar tooting of
+the other horn and brought his hand to his employer's arm. The car was
+stopped, and McGuire, by match-light, examined the road with its frosty
+mud unmarked by fresh automobile tracks, save those running back from
+their own tires.
+
+The runabout turned and slipped along cautiously to the rear, watchful
+for byways. At the cross-road McGuire was out again. His match, held
+close to the mud and gravel, revealed the tread of familiar tires.
+
+"All right, sir," he briefly reported. "The other edition went this
+track."
+
+With a twist of the wheel Benton was again on the trail. Back in the
+side lane stood a car in which a girl sat alone, solemnly indignant.
+
+"Cara!" Benton was standing on the step. His voice was tremulous with
+solicitude and perplexed anxiety. "Cara!" he repeated. "What does it
+mean?"
+
+"I don't know," she responded coolly. "Something seems to be broken."
+
+"I don't mean that." McGuire was already investigating. "What does it
+mean?"
+
+She sighed wearily.
+
+"When I foolishly agreed to play Juliet to your Romeo," she informed
+him, and her tones were frigid, "I didn't know that your Romeo was
+really only a Dromio. The other edition of you"--he flinched at the
+words, and McGuire choked violently--"is back there, I believe, hunting
+for matches."
+
+"She's all right, sir," interrupted McGuire in triumph. "She'll travel
+now. It's only disconnected spark plugs and a short circuiting."
+
+"Travel, then!" snapped Benton. "Leave the runabout here. The other
+gentleman may prefer not to walk home."
+
+As he swung himself into the tonneau, the chauffeur had already seized
+the wheel and the car was backing for the turn. Far back up the hillside
+there was a crashing of underbrush. A spectral figure, struggling with
+the unaccustomed drapery of a Bedouin robe, emerged from the woods into
+the open, and halted in momentary astonishment.
+
+"I believe I am under parole--to the other Dromio--not to run away," she
+suggested wearily.
+
+"Oh, that's all right; I'm doing this and I have no treaty with
+Galavia," replied the gentleman pleasantly. "Hit her up a bit, McGuire."
+
+He took one of the hands that lay wearily in Cara's lap and she did not
+withdraw it. She only lay back in the leather upholstery and said
+nothing. Finally he bent nearer.
+
+"Dearest," he said. There was no answer.
+
+"Dearest," he whispered again.
+
+She only turned her head and smiled forgiveness.
+
+"What is the matter?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, I'm so tired--so tired of all of it," she sighed. "Don't you see?
+I wish someone bigger than I am would take me away to a place where they
+had never heard of a throne--somewhere beyond the Milky Way."
+
+He took her in his arms, and the spangle-crowned gipsy head fell heavily
+on his shoulder. She stretched up both arms towards the stars, and the
+moonlight glinted from her gilt bracelets.
+
+"Somewhere beyond the Milky Way," she murmured, then collapsed like a
+tired child and lay still.
+
+"Dearest," he whispered, "I'll tell you a secret." He paused and
+listened to the rhythmic cylinders throbbing a racing pulse; he looked
+back at the white band of road that was being flung out behind them like
+thread from a falling spool. He held her fiercely to him and kissed her.
+"I'll tell you a secret. You are being stolen. The _Isis_ is waiting in
+a little cove, and there is steam in her engines, and a chaplain on
+board. If it's necessary I shall run up the skull and cross-bones at her
+masthead. Do you hear?" Then, with a less piratical voice: "Dearest, I
+love you."
+
+She looked up drowsily into his eyes. "You don't have to be such a
+boa-constrictor," she suggested. "You are not a cave-man, after all, you
+know, if you _are_ taking a lady without asking her." Then she
+contentedly whispered: "I'm going to sleep." And she did.
+
+As the car at last swept around a curve and took the shore road, Benton
+caught, far away as yet, the red and green glint of tiny port and
+starboard lights on the bridge of the _Isis_, and the long ruby and
+emerald shafts quivering beneath in the calm waters of the bay. In the
+light of a low moon, swinging down the midnight sky, the trim silhouette
+of the yacht stood out boldly.
+
+Cara, after sleeping through the rowboat stage of the journey, awoke on
+the deck of the _Isis_ and gazed wonderingly about. In her ears was the
+sound of anchor chains upon the capstan.
+
+"Is it a dream?" she asked.
+
+"It is a dream to me, but I am going to make it real," he responded.
+
+She went to the rail. He followed her.
+
+"I shouldn't have let you, but I was so tired," she said, "I hardly knew
+where the dream began and the reality ended. Ah, I wish the dream could
+come true."
+
+"This one is to come true, Cara," he whispered.
+
+She shook her head. "Stand still!" she commanded.
+
+He was bending forward with his elbows on the rail. Suddenly, with
+something like a stifled sob, she caught his head in both arms and held
+him close, so close that he heard her heart pounding and her breath
+coming with spasmodic gasps. He put out his arms, but she held him off.
+
+"No, no; don't touch me now--only listen!"
+
+He waited a moment before she spoke again.
+
+"You said I was your prisoner." Her voice dropped in a tremor as though
+the tears would prevail, but she steadied it and went on. "I wish I
+were. Always I am your prisoner, but I must go back. It is because it is
+written."
+
+He straightened up and took her in his arms. "I know how you have
+settled it," he said, "but I have stolen you. The anchor is coming up.
+You love me--I have claimed what is mine. It is now beyond your power,
+your responsibility."
+
+"No, it is not," she softly denied. "I will not marry you--but I love
+you--I love you!"
+
+"You mean that if I hold you my prisoner you will still not be my wife?"
+he incredulously demanded.
+
+Slowly she nodded her head.
+
+The man gazed off with the eyes of one stunned and slowly fought himself
+back into control before he trusted his voice. After a while, he raised
+his face and spoke in fragmentary sentences, his voice pitched low, his
+words broken.
+
+"But you said--just now--back there on the road--you wished someone
+stronger than yourself--would take you away somewhere--beyond the Milky
+Way."
+
+His tones strengthened and suddenly he almost sang out with recovered
+resolution, speaking buoyantly and triumphantly.
+
+"Dearest, I am stronger than you, and I'm going to take you away--I'm
+going to take you beyond the Milky Way, to the uttermost stars of Love.
+How can it matter to me how far, if you are there?"
+
+Again she shook her head.
+
+"No, dear," she whispered, "you are not so strong as I, in this, because
+I am strong enough to say No when my heart says only Yes--and because
+Fate is stronger than any of us."
+
+"Boat ahoy!" came a voice from the crow's nest.
+
+"They have come for you," he said, speaking as through a fog. "Show them
+here," he shouted to an officer who was hurrying to the gangway.
+
+Two figures came over the side, and slowly followed the first officer
+forward. One was a Capuchin monk, bearing himself rigidly; at his side
+strode a Bedouin, bedraggled, but erect and military of bearing. The
+original Arab turned with a sudden sag of the shoulders and looked
+helplessly out at the path of silver that stretched across the water
+below, to the moon, now sunk close to the horizon. He waved one hand in
+a gesture of submission and despair, and stood silent.
+
+The gipsy girl, standing near, took a sudden step forward and stood
+close to him us the others approached.
+
+"They may take me back if they wish to, now," she said, with a suddenly
+upflaring defiance. "But they shall find me like this!" And she flung
+her arms about his neck and kissed him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE PRINCESS CONSULTS JONESY
+
+
+The coldness of the moonlight killed the pallor of Karyl's face, but
+added a note of stark accentuation to his set chin and labored
+self-containment. Von Ritz, despite his bedraggled masquerade was as
+composed and expressionless as though he had seen nothing beyond the
+expected. With Von Ritz nothing was beyond the expected.
+
+He had to-night counterfeited Benton's disguise; stolen Benton's car;
+substituted himself for the American and made a decisive effort to
+interrupt the kidnaping of a Queen.
+
+Finding himself checkmated, he had joined forces with the Prince and
+brought the pursuit to a successful termination. His manner now was
+precisely what it had been last night, when his only excitement had been
+a game of billiards. Men who knew him would have told you that his
+manner had been the same on a certain red and smoky day when the order
+of Takavo had been pinned on his breast, in the reek and noise of a
+battlefield.
+
+After a moment of tense silence, Benton took a step forward.
+
+"At any suitable time," he said, in a voice too low for Cara to catch,
+"I shall, of course, be entirely at your service."
+
+Pagratide drew a labored breath, but when he raised his head it was to
+lift his brows inquiringly.
+
+"For what?" he asked in an equally low tone. "Have I asked any
+questions?" In a matter-of-fact voice he added: "It is growing late. If
+Miss Carstow has finished the inspection of your yacht, I suggest a
+return."
+
+Benton recognized the other's refusal to read his motive. After all that
+was the best course; the only course. Pagratide stepped forward.
+
+"Mr. Benton had the pleasure of driving you down--" he suggested, "may I
+have the same honor, returning?"
+
+The girl met the eyes of the Prince, with defiance in her own.
+
+"I am not a child!" she vehemently declared. "We may as well be honest
+with each other. If he had chosen to have it so, you could not have come
+aboard. I must obey the decrees of State!" She paused, then impulsively
+swept on: "I can force myself to do what I must do, but I cannot compel
+my heart--that is his, utterly his." She raised both hands. "Now you
+know," she said. "You may decide."
+
+Karyl inclined his head.
+
+"I have questioned nothing," he repeated. "Will you honor me by
+returning in my car?"
+
+Cara tilted her chin rebelliously.
+
+"No," she said, "I don't think I shall. My vacation ends to-morrow if
+you still wish it, but to-night it has not ended. I return with Mr.
+Benton."
+
+Pagratide stiffened painfully, but with supreme self-mastery he forced a
+smile as though he had asked nothing more than a dance--and had found it
+engaged.
+
+"I must submit," he replied in a steady voice. "I even understand. But
+you will agree with me that they"--with a gesture toward the direction
+from which they had come--"had best know nothing."
+
+Benton and Von Ritz went to the gangway, where the yachtsman bent
+forward to give some direction to the boat crew below.
+
+"Karyl!" The girl moved impulsively toward the man she must marry, and
+laid a hand on his arm. "Karyl," she said plaintively, "if you only
+wanted to marry me for State reasons--it would be different. It wouldn't
+hurt me then to hurt you. You mean so much as a friend, but I can never
+be in love with you. You are being unfair with yourself--if you go on. I
+must be honest with you."
+
+Pagratide spoke slowly, and his voice carried the tremor of feeling.
+
+"You have always been honest with me, and I will make you love me. Until
+you marry me I have no privilege to question you. When you do, I shall
+not have to question you." He leaned forward and spoke confidently. "I
+would marry you if you hated me--and then I would win your love!"
+
+An hour later the Spanish gipsy girl, having shown herself in the
+emptying ball-room with ingenious excuses for her long absence, took
+refuge in her own apartments.
+
+On sailing day, Benton, at the pier, watched the steamer stand out into
+the river between the coming and going of ferry-boats and tugs. About
+him stamped the usual farewell throng with hats raised and handkerchiefs
+a-flutter. The music of the ship's band grew faint as a wider and wider
+gap of water opened between the wharf and the liner's gray hull.
+
+Gradually the crowd scattered back through the great barn-like spaces of
+the pier-house to be re-absorbed by cabs, motors and surface-cars into
+the main arteries of the city's life. It was over. _Bon voyage_ had been
+said. One more ship had put out to sea.
+
+Benton stood looking after a slim figure in a blue traveling gown and
+dark furs, pressed against the after-rail, her handkerchief waving in
+the raw wind. Most of the sea-going ones had retreated into the shelter
+of the saloon or cabin, but she remained.
+
+Van Bristow, shivering at his friend's elbow, did not suggest turning
+back.
+
+Cara stood, still looking shoreward, a furrow between her brows, her
+checks pale, her fingers tightly gripping the rail. She was holding with
+that grip to all her shaken self-command.
+
+She saw the fang-edged skyline of lower Manhattan lifting its gray
+shafts through wet streamers of fog; she saw flotillas of squat
+ferry-boats shouldering their ways against the sullen heave of the
+river's tide-water; she heard the discordant shriek of their steam
+throats; she saw the tilting swoop of a hundred gulls, buffeting the
+wind; but she was conscious only of the vista of oily water widening
+between herself and him.
+
+Von Ritz had long since drifted into the smoking-room where the men were
+christening the voyage with brandy-and-soda and dropping into tentative
+groups, regardful of future poker games.
+
+Pagratide, at Cara's elbow, was silent, respecting her silence.
+
+When at last the two had the deck to themselves and Manhattan had become
+a shadowy and ragged monotone, she turned and smiled. It was a smile of
+accepting the inevitable. He went with her to the forward deck where
+her staterooms were situated, and left her there in silence.
+
+Von Ritz, standing apart near the threshold of the smokeroom, heard his
+name paged almost before the speaker had entered the door, and turned to
+take from the hand of the bearer a Marconigram just relayed from shore.
+He read it and for an instant a look of pain crossed the features that
+rarely yielded to expression. Then he sought out Karyl's stateroom.
+
+Karyl turned wearily from the wintry picture of a sullenly heaving sea,
+to answer the rap on the door. His face did not brighten as he
+recognized Von Ritz.
+
+The Colonel was that type of being upon whom men may depend or whom they
+must fear. Whenever there was need, Karyl had come to know that there
+would be Von Ritz, but also there went with him an austerity and an
+impersonality that robbed him of the gratitude and love he might have
+claimed.
+
+Now there was a note almost surly in the expression with which the
+Prince looked up to greet his father's confidential representative.
+
+"Well?" he demanded.
+
+For answer the officer held out the message.
+
+Karyl puckered his brows over the intricacies of the code and handed it
+back.
+
+"Be good enough to construe it," he commanded.
+
+"The King," said Von Ritz, "is ill. His Majesty wishes to instruct you
+in certain matters before--" He broke off with something like a catch in
+his voice, then continued calmly. "Recovery is despaired of, though
+death may not be immediate."
+
+Karyl turned away, not wishing the soldier to see the tears he felt in
+his eyes, and Von Ritz discreetly withdrew as far as the door. There he
+paused, and after a moment's hesitation inquired:
+
+"Her Highness goes to Maritzburg--to her father's Court--I presume?"
+
+With his back still turned, the Prince nodded. "Why?" he demanded.
+
+"Because--the message holds no hope--" Von Ritz paused, then added
+quietly "--and if Your Highness is called upon to mount the throne, it
+is advisable to hasten the marriage."
+
+He backed out, closing the door behind him.
+
+In her own cabin the girl had bolted the door. At the small desk of her
+_suite-de-luxe_ she sat with her head on her crossed arms. For a
+half-hour she remained motionless.
+
+Finally she rose and, with uncertain hands, opened a suitcase, drawing
+from its place among filmy fabrics and feminine essentials a small,
+squat figure of time-corroded clay. The little Inca _huaca_ had perhaps
+looked with that same unseeing squint upon Princesses of other
+dynasties so long dead that their heartbreaks and ecstasies were now the
+same--nothing.
+
+She placed the image before her and rested her chin on one hand, gazing
+at its grotesque and ancient visage.
+
+Her eyes slowly filled with tears. Again she dropped her face on her
+arms and the tears overflowed.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Benton and Bristow had been sitting without speech as their motor
+threaded its way through the traffic along Fourteenth Street, and it was
+not until the chauffeur had turned north on Fifth Avenue that either
+spoke. Then Benton roused himself out of seeming lethargy to inquire
+with suddenness: "Do you remember the bull-fight we saw in Seville?"
+
+His companion looked up, suppressing his surprise at a question so
+irrelevant.
+
+"You mean the Easter Sunday performance," he asked, "when that negligent
+_banderillero_ was gored?"
+
+"Just so," assented Benton. "Do you remember the chap we met afterwards
+at one of the cafes? He was being feted and flattered for the brilliancy
+of his work in the ring. His name was Blanco."
+
+"Sure I remember him." Van talked glibly, pleased that the conversation
+had turned into channels so impersonal. "He was a fine-looking chap with
+the grace of a Velasquez dancing-girl and the nerve of a bull-terrier.
+I remember he was more like a grandee than a _toreador_. We had him dine
+with us--hard bread--black olives--fish--bad wine--all sorts of native
+truck. For the rest of our stay in Seville he was our inseparable
+companion. Do you remember how the street gamins pointed us out? Why, it
+was like walking down Broadway with your arm linked in that of Jim
+Jeffries!"
+
+He paused, somewhat disconcerted by his companion's steady gaze; then,
+taking a fresh start, he went on, talking fast.
+
+"Besides sticking bulls, he could discuss several topics in several
+languages. I recall that he had been educated for the Church. If he
+hadn't felt the lure of the strenuous life, he might have been
+celebrating Mass instead of playing guide for us. In the end he'd have
+won a cardinal's hat."
+
+The fixity of the other's stare at last chilled and quelled his chatter
+to an embarrassed silence. He realized that the object of his mild
+subterfuge was transparent.
+
+"I'm after his address--not his biography," suggested Benton coolly.
+"His name was Manuel Blanco, wasn't it?"
+
+"Why, yes, I believe it was. What do you want with him?"
+
+"Never mind that," returned his friend. "Do you happen to know where he
+lived? I seem to recall that you promised to write him frequent
+letters."
+
+"By Jove, so I did," acknowledged Van with humility. "I must get busy.
+He is a good sort. His address--" He paused to search through his
+pocket-book for a small tablet dedicated to names and numbers, then
+added: "His address is _Numero 18, Calle Isaac Peral_, Cadiz."
+
+Benton was scribbling the direction on the back of an envelope.
+
+"You needn't grow penitent and start a belated correspondence," he
+suggested. "I am going to write him myself--and I'm going to visit
+him."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+THE TOREADOR APPEARS
+
+
+Slowly, with a gesture almost subconscious, Benton slipped an unopened
+envelope from his breast pocket; turned it over; looked at it and
+slipped it back, still unopened. Then, leaning heavily on his elbow, he
+gazed off, frowning, over the rail of the yacht's forward deck.
+
+The waters that lap the quays and wharves of Old Cadiz, green as jade
+and quiet as farm-yard pools, were darkening into inkiness toward shore.
+White walls that had been like ivory were turning into ashy gray behind
+the _Bateria San Carlos_ and the pillars of the _Entrada_. The molten
+sun was sinking into a rich orange sky beyond the Moorish dome and
+Christian towers of the cathedral.
+
+Shafts of red and green wavered and quaked in the black dock waters.
+
+Between the hulks of cork- and salt-freighters, the steam yacht _Isis_
+slipped with as graceful a motion as that of the gulls. Then when the
+anchor chains ran gratingly out, Benton turned on his heel and went to
+his cabin.
+
+Behind a bolted door he dropped into a chair and sat motionless. Finally
+the right hand wandered mechanically to his breast pocket and brought
+out the envelope. He read for the thousandth time the endorsement in the
+corner.
+
+"Not to be opened until the evening of March 5th," and under that, "I
+love you."
+
+There was another envelope; an outer one much rubbed from the pocket. It
+was directed in her hand and the blurred postmark bore a date in
+February. He could have described every mark upon the enclosing cover
+with the precision of a careful detective. When his impatient fingers
+had first torn off the end, only to be confronted by the order: "Not to
+be opened until the evening of March 5th," he had fallen back on
+studying outward marks and indications. In the first place, it had been
+posted from Puntal, and instead of the familiar violet stamp of
+Maritzburg, with which her other letters had been franked during the two
+months past, this stamp was pink, and its medallion bore the profile of
+Karyl.
+
+That she had left Maritzburg, and that she had written him a message to
+be sealed for a month, meant that the date of March 5th had
+significance. That she was in Galavia meant that the significance
+was--he winced.
+
+On the calendar of a bronze desk-set, the first four days of March were
+already cancelled. Now, taking up a blue pencil, he crossed off the
+number five. After that he looked at his watch. It wanted one minute of
+six. He held the timepiece before him while the second-hand ticked its
+way once around its circle, then with feverish impatience he tore the
+end from the envelope.
+
+Benton's face paled a little as he drew out the many pages covered with
+a woman's handwriting, but there was no one to see that or to notice the
+tremor of his fingers.
+
+For a moment he held the pages off, seeing only the "Dearest" at the
+top, and the wild way the pen had raced, forming almost shapeless
+characters.
+
+"Dearest," she said in part, "I write now because I must turn to
+someone--because my heart must speak or break. All day I must smile as
+befits royalty, and act as befits one whose part is written for her.
+Unless there be an outlet, there must be madness. I have enclosed this
+envelope in another and enjoined you not to read it until March 5th.
+Then it will be too late for you to come to me. If you came to-night,
+you would find me hurrying out to meet you and to surrender. Duty would
+so gladly lay down its arms to Love, dear, and desert the fight.
+
+"To-night I have slipped away from the uniforms, the tawdry mockery of a
+puppet court, to find the pitiful comfort of rehearsing my heart-ache
+to you, who own my heart. In my life here every hour is mapped, and I
+seem to move from cell to cell. So many obsequious jailers who call
+themselves courtiers stand about and seem to watch me, that I feel as if
+I had to ask permission to draw my breath. Out in the narrow streets of
+this little picture town, I see dark-skinned, bare-footed girls. Some of
+them carry skins of wine on their heads. All of them are poor. They also
+are gloriously free. As they pass the palace, they look up enviously,
+and I, from the inside, look out enviously. I know how Richard of the
+Lion Heart felt when he was a prisoner in France, only I have not the
+comfort of a Lion Heart, and it is not written in the book of things
+that you shall pass outside and hear my harp--and rescue me.... One
+little taste of liberty I give myself. It caused a terrible battle at
+first, but I was stubborn and told them that if I was going to be Queen
+I was going to do just what I wanted, and that if they didn't like it,
+they could get some other girl to be Queen, so of course they let me....
+There is an old half-forgotten roadway walled in on both sides that runs
+through the town from this horrible palace to the woods upon the
+mountain. There is some sort of foolish legend that in the old days the
+Kings used to go by this protected road to a high point called Look-out
+Rock, and stand there where they could see pretty much all of this
+miserable little Kingdom and a great deal of the Mediterranean besides.
+No one uses it now except me; but I do as often as I can steal away. I
+dress in old clothes and take the little Inca god with me and no one
+knows us. We slip off among the bowlders and pine trees where the view
+is wonderful, and as his godship presides on a moss-covered rock and I
+sit on the carpet of pine needles, he gives me advice. Somewhere in
+these woods crowds of children live. They are very shy, and for a long
+time looked at me wonderingly from big liquid eyes, but now I have made
+friends with them and they come and sit around me in a circle and make
+me tell them fairy stories....
+
+"Once, dear, I was strong enough to say 'no' to you. Twice I could not
+be."
+
+The reader paused and scowled at the wall with set jaws.
+
+"But when you read this, almost three thousand miles away, there will be
+only a few days between me and (it is hard to say it) the marriage and
+the coronation. He is to be crowned on the same day that we are married.
+Then I suppose I can't even write what is in my heart."
+
+Benton rose and paced the narrow confines of the cabin. Suddenly he
+halted. "Even under sealed orders," he mused slowly, "one may dispose of
+three thousand miles. They, at least, are behind." A countenance
+somewhat drawn schooled its features into normal expressionlessness, as
+a few moments afterward he rose to open the door in response to a
+rapping outside.
+
+As the door swung in a smile came to Benton's face: the first it had
+worn since that night when he had taken leave of Hope.
+
+"You, Blanco!" he exclaimed. "Why, _hombre_, the anchor is scarce down.
+You are prompt!"
+
+The physically superb man who stood at the threshold smiled. The gleam
+of perfect teeth accentuated the swarthy olive of his face and the crisp
+jet of his hair. His brown eyes twinkled good-humoredly. Jaw, neck and
+broad shoulders declared strength, while the slenderness of waist and
+thigh hinted of grace--a hint that every movement vindicated. It was the
+grace of the bull-fighter, to whom awkwardness would mean death.
+
+"I had your letter. It was correctly directed--Manuel Blanco, _Calle
+Isaac Peral_." The Spaniard smiled delightedly. "When one is once more
+to see an old friend, one does not delay. How am I? Ah, it is good of
+the _Senor_ to ask. I do well. I have retired from the _Plaza de Toros_.
+I busy myself with guiding parties of _touristos_ here and abroad--and
+in the collection and sale of antiques. But this time, what is your
+enterprise or pleasure, _Senor_? What do you in Spain?"
+
+"My business in Spain," replied Benton slowly, "is to get out of Spain.
+After that I don't know. Will you go and take chances of anything that
+might befall? I sent for you to ask you whether you have leisure to
+accompany me on an enterprise which may involve danger. It's only fair
+to warn you."
+
+Blanco laughed. "Who reads _manana_?" he demanded, seating himself on
+the edge of the table, and busying his fingers with the deft rolling of
+a cigarette. "The _toreador_ does not question the Prophets. I am at
+your disposition. But the streets of Cadiz await us. Let us talk of it
+all over the _table d'hote_."
+
+An hour later found the two in the _Calle Duke de Tetuan_, blazing with
+lights like a jeweler's show-case.
+
+The narrow fissure between its walls was aflow with the evening current
+of promenaders, crowding its scant breadth, and sending up a medley of
+laughter and musical sibilants. Grandees strolled stiffly erect with
+long capes thrown back across their left shoulders to show the brave
+color of velvet linings. Young dandies of army and navy, conscious of
+their multi-colored uniforms, sifted along through the press, toying
+with rigidly-waxed mustaches and regarding the warm beauty of their
+countrywomen through keen, appreciative eyes, not untinged with
+sensuousness. Here and there a common _hombre_ in short jacket, wide,
+low-crowned _sombrero_ and red sash, zig-zagged through the
+pleasure-seekers to cut into a darker side street whence drifted pungent
+whiffs of garlic, black olives and peppers from the stalls of the street
+salad-venders. Occasionally a Moor in fez and wide-bagging trousers,
+passed silently through the volatile chatter, looking on with jet eyes
+and lips drawn down in an impervious dignity.
+
+They found a table in one of the more prominent cafes from which they
+could view through the plate-glass front the parade in the street, as
+well as the groups of coffee-sippers within.
+
+"Yonder," prompted Blanco, indicating with his eyes a near-by group, "he
+with the green-lined cape, is the Duke de Tavira, one of the richest men
+in Spain--it is on his estate that they breed the bulls for the rings of
+Cadiz and Seville. Yonder, quarreling over politics, are newspaper men
+and Republicans. Yonder, artists." He catalogued and assorted for the
+American the personalities about the place, presuming the curiosity
+which should be the tourist's attribute-in-chief.
+
+"And at the large table--yonder under the potted palms, and
+half-screened by the plants--who are they?" questioned Benton
+perfunctorily. "They appear singularly engrossed in their talk."
+
+"Assume to look the other way, _Senor_, so they will not suspect that
+we speak of them," cautioned the Andalusian. "I dare say that if one
+could overhear what they say, he could sell his news at his own price.
+Who knows but they may plan new colors for the map of Southern Europe?"
+
+Benton's gaze wandered over to the table in question, then came
+uninquisitively back to Blanco's impassive face. It took more than
+European politics to distract him.
+
+"International intrigue?" he inquired.
+
+The eyes of the other were idly contemplating the street windows, and as
+he talked he did not turn them toward the men whom he described.
+Occasionally he looked at Benton and then vacantly back to the street
+parade, or the red end of his own cigarette.
+
+"There is a small, and, in itself, an unimportant Kingdom with
+Mediterranean sea-front, called Galavia," said Blanco. Benton's start
+was slight, and his features if they gave a telltale wince at the word
+became instantly casual again in expression. But his interest was no
+longer forced by courtesy. It hung from that moment fixed on the
+narrative.
+
+"Ah, I see the _Senor_ knows of it," interpolated Blanco. "The tall man
+with the extremely pale face and the singularly piercing eye who sits
+facing us,"--Blanco paused,--"is the Duke Louis Delgado. He is the
+nephew of the late King of Galavia, and if--" the Spaniard gave an
+expressive shrug, and watched the smoke ring he had blown widen as it
+floated up toward the ceiling--"if by any chance, or mischance, Prince
+Karyl, who is to be crowned at Puntal three days hence, should be called
+to his reward in heaven, the gentleman who sits there would be crowned
+King of Galavia in his stead."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+OF CERTAIN TRANSPIRINGS AT A CAFE TABLE
+
+
+Benton's eyes seemed hypnotically drawn to the table pointed out, but he
+kept them tensely riveted on his coffee cup.
+
+"Yes?" he impatiently prompted.
+
+"Of course," continued Blanco absently, "no one could regret more
+profoundly than the Grand Duke any accident or fatality which might
+befall his royal kinsman, yet even the holy saints cannot prevent evil
+chances!" He paused to sip his coffee. "At the right of 'Louis, the
+Dreamer,' as he is called, sits the Count Borttorff, who is not greatly
+in favor with Prince Karyl. He, too, is a Galavian of noble birth, but
+Paris knows him better than Puntal. He on the left, the man with the
+puffed eyes and the dissipated mouth--you will notice also a scar over
+the left temple--" Blanco was regarding his cigarette tip as he flecked
+an ash to the floor--"is Monsieur Jusseret supposed to be high in the
+affairs of the French _Cabinet Noir_."
+
+"There is one more--and a vacant chair," suggested Benton.
+
+The _toreador_ nodded. "True, I had not forgotten the other. Tall,
+black-haired, not unlike yourself in appearance, _Senor_, save for a
+heavier jaw and the mustache which points upward. He is an Englishman by
+birth, a native of the world by adoption. Once he bore a British army
+commission. Now he is seen in distinguished society"--Blanco
+laughed--"when distinguished society wants something done which clean
+men will not do. His name, just now, is Martin. In many quarters he is
+better known as the English Jackal. Where one sees him one may scent
+conspiracy."
+
+In all the life and color compassed between the four walls of Moorish
+tiles and arches, Benton felt the magnet of the group irresistibly
+drawing his eyes to itself.
+
+"And this gathering about a table for a cup of coffee, in Cadiz--what of
+it?" argued Benton. He tried to speak as if his curiosity were dilute
+and his thoughts west of the Atlantic. "Are they not all known here?"
+
+Again Blanco gave the expressive Spanish shrug.
+
+"Few people here know any of them. I only said, _Senor_, that if any
+chance should cause Galavia to mourn her new King that same chance would
+elevate the tall, pale gentleman from a cafe table to a throne. I did
+not say that the chance would occur."
+
+"And yet?" urged Benton, his eyes narrowing, "your words seem to hint
+more than they express. What is it, Manuel?"
+
+The Spaniard took a handful of matches from a porcelain receptacle on
+the table. He laid one down.
+
+"Let that match," he smilingly suggested, "stand for the circumstance of
+the Grand Duke leaving Paris for Cadiz which is--well, nearer to
+Puntal--and less observant than Paris." He laid another on the marble
+table-top with its sulphur head close to the first, so that the two
+radiated from a common center like spokes from a hub. "Regard that as a
+coincidence of the arrival of the Count Borttorff from the other
+direction, but at the same time, and at the precise season of the
+coronation and marriage of the King." He looked at the two matches, then
+successively laid down others, all with the heads at the common center.
+"That," he said, "is the joining of the group by the distinguished
+Frenchman--that the presence of the English Jackal--that is the chance
+that runs against any King or Queen of meeting death. That--" he struck
+another match and held it a moment burning in his fingers "--regard
+that, _Senor_, as the flaring up of ambitions that are thwarted by a
+life or two."
+
+He touched the burning match to the grouped tips of sulphur and his
+teeth gleamed white as he contemplated the little spurt of hissing
+flame. Then he dropped his flattened hand upon the tiny eruption and
+extinguished it, as his sudden grin died away to a bored smile.
+
+[Illustration: HIS TEETH GLEAMED WHITE AS HE CONTEMPLATED THE LITTLE
+SPURT OF HISSING FLAME.]
+
+"There, it is over," he yawned, "and of course it may not happen. _Quien
+sabe?_"
+
+"And if they should flare up--" Benton spoke slowly, carefully, "others
+might suffer than the King?"
+
+"How should one say? The King alone would suffice, but Kings are rarely
+found in solitude," reasoned the Andalusian. "For a brief moment Europe
+looks with eyes of interest on the feasting little capital. The King
+will not be alone. No, it must be--so one would surmise--at the
+coronation."
+
+"Good God!" Benton gaspingly breathed the exclamation. "But, man, think
+of it--the women--the children--the utterly innocent people--the Queen!"
+
+The Spaniard leaned back, balancing his chair on two legs, his hands
+spread on the table. "_Si, Senor_, it is regrettable. Yet nothing on
+earth appears so easy to supply as Kings--except Queens. And after all,
+what is it to us--an American millionaire--a Cadiz _toreador_?"
+
+For a moment Benton was silent. When he spoke it was in quick,
+clear-clipped interrogation.
+
+"You know Puntal and Galavia?"
+
+"As I know Spain."
+
+"Manuel, suppose the quaking of a throne _does_ interest me, you will
+go there with me--even though I may lead you where its fall may crush us
+both?"
+
+The Spaniard grinned with a dazzling show of white teeth. His shoulders
+rose and fell in a shrug. "As well a tumbling castle wall as a charging
+bull."
+
+"Good. The first thing is to learn all we can of Louis and his party."
+
+"There is," observed Blanco calmly, "a table on this side also shielded
+by plants. From its angle we can observe,--and be ourselves protected
+from their view. However, we will first go for a stroll in the _calle_
+and return. The change of position will then be less noticeable. Also,
+the _Senor's_ forehead is beaded with moisture. The air of the street
+will be grateful."
+
+As Benton rose he noticed that the Grand Duke was leaning confidentially
+toward the member of the French _Cabinet Noir_.
+
+Fifteen minutes later the two men were ensconced in their more sheltered
+coign, with wine glasses before them, and all the seeming of idle hours
+to kill.
+
+"Is Louis ostensibly a friend of the throne?" demanded the American.
+
+"Professedly, he is, _Senor_. He will write his felicitations when the
+marriage and the crowning occur--he will even send suitable gifts, but
+he will remain at his cafe here with his absinthe, or in Paris near the
+fair Comptessa Astaride, whom he adores, unless, of course, he goes to
+touch the match."
+
+"Does he never return to Puntal?"
+
+"Once in five years he has been there. Then he went quietly to his
+hunting lodge which is ten miles, as the crow flies from the capital,
+yet barred off by the mountain ridge. It is two days' journey by sea
+from Puntal, and save by the sea one comes only through the mountain
+pass, which is always guarded. Yet on that occasion heliographs reported
+his movements; the King's escort was doubled and the King went little
+abroad."
+
+"Who stands at Louis' back? Revolutionists?"
+
+"_Dios!_ No, _Senor_. The Galavians are cattle. Karyl or Louis, it is
+one to them. Galavia is a key. The key cares not at what porter's belt
+it jingles. Europe cares who opens and closes the lock. _Comprende?_
+Spain cares, France cares, Italy cares, even the Northern nations care.
+The movement of pawns affects castles and kings."
+
+Manuel suddenly halted in his flow of talk. "Blessed Saints!" he
+breathed softly. "When he comes nearer you will see him--the palms
+obscure him now. It is Colonel Von Ritz. He has just entered. He stands
+near Karyl and the throne. He is a great man wasted in a toy kingdom.
+All Europe envies the services which Von Ritz squanders on Galavia."
+
+Benton looked up with a rush of memories, and was glad that the Galavian
+could not see him.
+
+Like all the men concerned, Von Ritz was inconspicuously a civilian in
+dress, but as he came down the center of the room he was, as always, the
+commanding figure, challenging attention. His steady eyes swept the
+place with dispassionate scrutiny. His straight mouth-line betrayed no
+expression. He came slowly, idly, as though looking for someone. When
+still some distance from the table where sat the Duke Louis, he halted
+and their eyes met. Those of the Duke, as he inclined his head slightly,
+stiffly, wore a glint of veiled hostility. Those of Von Ritz, as he
+returned the salute, no whit more cordially, were blank, except that for
+the moment, as he stood regarding the party, his non-committal pupils
+seemed to bore into each face about the table and to catalogue them all
+in an insolent inventory.
+
+Each man in the group uneasily shifted his eyes. Then Karyl's officer
+turned on his heel and left the place. Louis watched him, scowling, and
+as the Colonel passed into the street turned suddenly and spoke in a
+vehement whisper. Jusseret's sardonic lips twisted into a wry smile as
+though in recognition of an adversary's clever check.
+
+The cafe was now filled. Few tables remained unoccupied, and of these,
+several were near that of the Ducal party.
+
+Blanco rose. "Wait for me, _Senor_," he whispered, then went to the
+front of the cafe where Benton lost him in a crowd at the door. A moment
+later he came lurching back. His lower lip was stupidly pendent, his
+eyes heavy and dull, and as he floundered about he dropped with the
+aimless air of one heavily intoxicated into a chair by a vacant table
+not more than ten feet distant from that of Louis, the Dreamer.
+
+There he remained huddled in apparent torpor and for some moments
+unobserved, until the Duke signaled to a passing waiter and indicated
+the _toreador_ with a glance. The waiter came over to Blanco. "The
+_Senor_ will find another table," he said with the ingratiating courtesy
+of one paying a compliment. "It is regrettable, but this one is
+reserved." Blanco appeared too stupid to understand, and when finally he
+did grasp the meaning he rose with profuse and clumsy apologies and
+staggered vacantly about in the immediate neighborhood of the conspiring
+coterie. Finally, after receiving further attention and guidance from
+the waiter, he returned to Benton, and dropping into his chair leaned
+over, his white teeth flashing a satisfied smile. "The matches may not
+flare, _Senor_," he said, "but it would appear it was planned. Now
+Martin and Borttorff cannot go to Puntal. Since the brief visit of Von
+Ritz they are branded men. The others are already known to Karyl's
+government."
+
+Benton sat with his brows knitted intently listening.
+
+"Now," went on Blanco, "there is one thing more. They await the man for
+whom they hold the empty chair."
+
+There was a brief silence, then the Spaniard uttered a low exclamation
+of satisfaction. Benton glanced up to see a young man of frank face,
+blond mustache and Paris clothes drop into the vacant place with evident
+apologies for his tardiness.
+
+"Ah," breathed Blanco again, "I feared it would be someone I did not
+know. He is the _Teniente_ Lapas, of Karyl's Palace guard. The
+_pobrecito_! I wonder what post he hopes to adorn at the Court of the
+Pretender."
+
+For a moment the Spaniard looked on with an expression of melancholy
+reflection. "That boy," he said "at last, has the trust and friendship
+of the King. Before him lies every prospect of advancement, yet he has
+been beguiled by the Countess Astaride, and throws himself into a plot
+against Karyl. It is pitiable when one is perfidious so young--and with
+such small cause."
+
+"Who is the Countess Astaride?" inquired the American.
+
+"One of the most beautiful women in Europe, to whom these children are
+playthings. For her there is only Louis Delgado. It is her firing of his
+dreams which makes him aspire to a throne. It is she who has the
+determination. He can see visions of power only in the colors of his
+absinthe glass. She uses men to her ends. Lapas is the latest--unless--"
+Blanco paused--"unless he is playing two parts, and really serves Karyl.
+Come, _Senor_, there is nothing further to interest us here."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE PASSING PRINCESS AND THE MISTAKEN COUNTESS
+
+
+With the sapphire bay of Puntal at his back, his knees clasped between
+interlacing fingers, Benton sat on the stone sea-wall and affected to
+whistle up a lightness of heart. Near at hand sprawled a picturesque
+city, its houses tinted in pea-greens, pinks and soft blues, or as white
+and decorative as though fashioned in icing on a cake.
+
+Clinging steeply to higher levels and leaning on buttressing walls, lay
+outspread vineyards and cane fields and gardens. Splotching the whole
+with imperial and gorgeous purple, hung masses of bougonvillea between
+trellis and masonry. At a more lofty line, where the sub-tropical
+profusion halted in the warning breath of a keener atmosphere, came the
+scrub growth and beyond that, in succeeding altitudes, the pine belt,
+the snow line and the film of trailing cloud on the white peaks.
+
+Out of the center of the color-splashed town rose the square tower of
+the ancient cathedral, white in a coat of plaster for two-thirds of its
+height, but gray at its top in the nakedness of mossy stone.
+
+To its dilapidated clock Benton's eyes traveled repeatedly and anxiously
+while he waited.
+
+From the clock they wandered in turn to the road circling the bay, and
+the cliff at his left, where the jail-like walls of the King's Palace
+rose sheer from the rock, fifty feet above him.
+
+From the direction of the Cathedral drifted fragments of band music, and
+the bugle calls of marching platoons. Everywhere festivity reigned,
+working great profits to the keepers of the wine-shops.
+
+Manuel Blanco turned the corner and Benton slipped quickly down from his
+perch on the wall and fell into step as the other passed.
+
+"It is difficult to learn anything, _Senor_." The Spaniard spoke low as
+he led the way outward from the city.
+
+"Puntal is usually a quiet place and the festivities have made it like a
+child at a _fiesta_. One hears only 'Long live the King--the Queen!'
+There are to be illuminations to-night, and music, and the limit will be
+taken off the roulette wheels at the Strangers' Club. Bah! One could
+have read it in the papers without leaving Cadiz."
+
+"Then you have learned nothing?"
+
+"One thing, yes. An old friend of mine has come for the festivities from
+the Duke's estate. He says the pass is picketed and a guard is posted
+at the Look-out Rock."
+
+"The Look-out Rock?" Benton repeated the words with an inflection of
+inquiry.
+
+"Yes--look above you at the hill whose summit is less high than the
+ridge peaks--there below the snow." Blanco suddenly raised his voice
+from confidential undertone to the sing-song of the professional guide.
+"Yonder," he said, scarcely changing the direction of his pointed
+finger, "is the unfinished sanatorium for consumptives which the Germans
+undertook and left unfinished." Two soldiers were sauntering by, smart
+in newly issued uniforms of tall red caps, dark tunics, sky-blue
+breeches, and polished boots. "That point," went on Blanco, dropping his
+voice again, as they passed out of earshot, "is three thousand, five
+hundred feet above the sea. From the rock by the pines--if you had a
+strong glass, you could see the Galavian flag which flies there--the eye
+sweeps the sea for many empty leagues. One's gaze can also follow the
+gorge where runs the pass through the mountains. Also, to the other
+side, one has an eagle's glimpse of the Grand Duke's hunting lodge.
+There is an observatory just back of the rock and flag. The speck of
+light which you can see, like a splinter of crystal, is its dome, but
+only military astronomers now look through its telescope. There one can
+read the tale of open shutters or barred windows in the house of Louis,
+the Dreamer. You understand?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Now, do you see the thread of broken masonry zig-zagging upward from
+the Palace? That is a walled drive which runs part of the way up to the
+rock. In other days the Kings of Galavia went thus from their castle to
+the point whence they could see the peninsula spread out below like a
+map on the page of a school-book."
+
+"Yes? What else?"
+
+"This. The lodge of the Duke as seen by the telescope sleeps
+shuttered--an expanse of blank walls. Yet the Duke is there!"
+
+"Louis--in Galavia?"
+
+"Wait." Blanco laid his hand on the other's arm and smiled.
+
+"My friend is superstitious--and ignorant. He tells how the Duke has a
+ship's mast with wires on a tower fronting the far side. He says Louis
+talks with the open sea."
+
+"A Marconi mast?"
+
+Manuel nodded.
+
+Benton's eyes narrowed under drawn brows. When he spoke his voice was
+tense.
+
+"In God's name, Manuel," he whispered, "what is the answer?"
+
+The Spaniard met the gaze gravely. "I fancy, _Senor_," he said slowly,
+"the matches will burn."
+
+"When? Where?"
+
+"_Quien sabe?_" Blanco paused to light a cigarette. Two priests, their
+black robes relieved by crimson sashes and stockings, approached, and
+until they were at a safe distance he talked on once more at random with
+the sing-song patter of the guide. "That dungeon-like building is the
+old Fortress _do Freres_. It has clung to that gut of rock out there in
+the bay since the days when the Moors held the Mediterranean. It is said
+that the new King will convert it from a fortress into a prison. It is
+now employed as an arsenal."
+
+Slowly the two men moved back to the busier part of the city. They
+walked in silence until they were swallowed in the crowds drifting near
+the Central Avenue. Finally Blanco leaned forward, moved by the anxious
+face of his companion. "_Manana, Senor_," he suggested reassuringly.
+"Perhaps we may learn to-morrow."
+
+"And to-morrow may be too late," replied Benton.
+
+"Hardly, _Senor_. The marriage and coronation are the day following. It
+should be one of those occasions." Benton only shuddered.
+
+They swung into the _Ruo Centrale_, between lining sycamores, olive
+trees and acacias, to be engulfed in a jostling press of feast-day
+humanity. Suddenly Benton felt his coat-sleeve tugged.
+
+"Let us stop," Manuel shouted into his ear above the roar of the
+carnival clamor. "The Royal carriage comes."
+
+Between a garden and the pavement ran a stone coping, topped by a tall
+iron grill, and laden with screening vines. The two men mounted this
+masonry and clung to the iron bars, as the crowd was driven back from
+the street by the outriders. Before Benton's eyes the whole mass of
+humanity swam in a blur of confusion and vertigo. The passing files of
+blue and red soldiery seemed wavering figures mounted on reeling horses.
+The King's carriage swung into view and a crescendo of cheering went up
+from the crowd.
+
+Benton saw blurred circles of color whirling dizzily about a steady
+center, and the center was the slender woman at Karyl's side, who was
+the day after to-morrow to become his Queen. He saw the fixed smile with
+which she tried to acknowledge the salutations as the crowd eddied about
+her carriage. Her wide, stricken eyes were shimmery with imprisoned
+tears. To drive through the streets of Puntal with that half-stunned
+misery written clear in lips and eyes, she must, he knew, have reached
+the outmost border of endurance. Karyl bent solicitously forward and
+spoke, and she nodded as if answering in a dream, smiling wanly. It was
+all as some young Queen might have gone to the guillotine rather than to
+her coronation. As she looked bewilderedly from side to side her glance
+fell upon the clustering flowers of the vine. Benton gripped the iron
+bars and groaned, and then her eyes met his. For a moment her pupils
+dilated and one gloved hand convulsively tightened on the paneling of
+the carriage door. The man dropped into the crowd and was swallowed up,
+and he knew by her familiar gesture of brushing something away from her
+temples, that she believed she had seen an image projected from a
+troubled brain.
+
+"Come," he said brokenly to his companion, "for God's sake get me out of
+this crowd."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Strangers' Club of Puntal sits high on a solid wall of rock and
+overlooks the sea. Its beauty is too full of wizardry to seem real, and
+what nature had done in view and sub-tropical luxuriance the syndicate
+which operates the ball rooms, tea gardens, and roulette wheels has
+striven to abet. To-night a moon two-thirds full immersed the grounds in
+a bath of blue and silver, and far off below the cliff wall the
+Mediterranean was phosphorescent. In the room where the _croupiers_ spun
+the wheels, the color scheme was profligate.
+
+Benton idled at one of the tables, his eyes searching the crowd in the
+faint hope of discovering some thread which he might follow up to
+definite conclusion. Beyond the wheel, just at the _croupier's_ elbow,
+stood a woman, audaciously yet charmingly gowned in red, with a
+scale-like shimmer of passementerie. A red rose in her black hair threw
+into conspicuous effect its intense luster.
+
+She might have been the genius of _Rouge et Noir_. Her litheness had the
+panther's sinuous strength. The vivid contrast of olive cheeks, carmine
+lips and dark eyes, gave stress to her slender sensuousness.
+
+Hers was the allurement of poppy and passion-flower. In her movements
+was suggestion of vital feminine force.
+
+Perhaps the incurious glance of the American made itself felt, for as
+she threw down a fresh _louis d'or_, she looked up and their eyes met.
+For an instant her expression was almost that of one who stifles an
+impulse to recognize another. Possibly, thought Benton, she had mistaken
+him for someone else.
+
+"_Mon dieu_," whispered a voice in French, "the Comptessa d'Astaride is
+charming this evening."
+
+"Ah, such wit! Such charm!" enthused another voice at Benton's back.
+"She is most perfect in those gowns of unbroken lines, with a single
+rose." Evidently the men left the tables at once, for Benton heard no
+more. He also turned away a moment later to make way for an Italian in
+whose feverish eyes burned the roulette-lust. He went to the farthest
+end of the gardens, where there was deep shadow, and a seaward outlook
+over the cliff wall. There the glare of electric bulbs and blazing
+doorways was softened, and the orchestra's music was modulated.
+Presently he was startled by a ripple of laughter at his shoulder, low
+and rich in musical vibrance.
+
+"Ah, it is not like this in your gray, fog-wrapped country."
+
+Benton wheeled in astonishment to encounter the dazzling smile of the
+Countess Astaride. She was standing slender as a young girl, all agleam
+in the half-light as though she wore an armor of glowing copper and
+garnets.
+
+"I beg your pardon," stammered the American, but she laid a hand lightly
+on his arm and smilingly shook her head.
+
+"I know, Monsieur Martin, we have not met, but you were with the Duke at
+Cadiz. You have come in his interest. In his cause, I acknowledge no
+conventions." In her voice was the fusing of condescension and regal
+graciousness. "It was wise," she thoughtfully added, "to shave your
+mustache, but even so Von Ritz will know you. You cannot be too
+guarded."
+
+For an instant Benton stood with his hands braced on the coping
+regarding her curiously. Evidently he stood on the verge of some
+revelation, but the role in which her palpable mistake cast him was one
+he must play all in the dark.
+
+"You can trust me," she said with an impassioned note but without
+elevating her voice. "I am the Countess--"
+
+"Astaride," finished Benton.
+
+Then he cautiously added the inquiry: "Have you heard the plans that
+were discussed by the Duke, and Jusseret and Borttorff?"
+
+"And yourself and Lieutenant Lapas," she augmented.
+
+"And Lapas and myself," admitted Benton, lying fluently.
+
+"I know only that Louis is to wait at his lodge to hear by wireless
+whether France and Italy will recognize his government," she hastily
+recited; "and that on that signal you and Lapas wait to strike the
+blow."
+
+"Do you know when?" inquired the American, fencing warily in the effort
+to lead her into betrayal of more definite information.
+
+"It must be soon--or never! But tell me, has Louis come? Has he reached
+his hunting lodge? Does he know that guards are at the rock? Do you, or
+Lapas, wait to flash the signal from the look-out? Ah, how my gaze shall
+be bent toward the flag-staff." Then, as her eyes wandered out to sea,
+her voice became soft with dreams. She laughed low and shook her head.
+"Louis, Louis!" she murmured. "When you are King! But tell me--" again
+she was anxious, executive, imperious--"tell me everything!"
+
+Obviously he was mistaken for the English Jackal!
+
+Benton countered anxiously. "Yet, Your Majesty,"--he bent low as he
+anticipated her ambition in bestowing the title--"Your Majesty asks so
+many questions all at once, and we may be interrupted."
+
+Once more she was in a realm of air castles as she leaned on the stone
+coping and gazed off into the moonlight. "It is but the touching of a
+button," she murmured, "and _allons_! In the space of an explosion,
+dynasties change places." Suddenly she stood up. "You are right. We
+cannot talk here. I shall be missed. Take this"--she slipped a seal ring
+from her finger. "Come to me to-morrow morning. I am at the Hotel de
+France. I shall be ostensibly out, but show the ring and you will be
+admitted. When I am Queen, you shall not go undecorated." She gave his
+hand a warm momentary pressure and was gone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+BENTON MUST DECIDE
+
+
+On the next afternoon at the base of the flag-staff above Look-out Rock,
+Lieutenant Lapas nervously swept the leagues of sea and land, spreading
+under him, with strong glasses. Though the air was somewhat rarer and
+cooler here than below, beads of sweat stood out on his forehead, and
+the cigarettes which he incessantly smoked followed each other with a
+furious haste which denoted mental unrest.
+
+At a sound of foliage rustled aside and a displaced rock bumping down
+the slope, the watcher took the glasses from his eyes with a nervous
+start.
+
+Up the hill from the left climbed an unknown man. His features were
+those of a Spaniard. As the officer's eyes challenged him he halted,
+panting, to mop his brow with the air of one who takes a breathing space
+after violent exertion. The newcomer smiled pleasantly as he leaned
+against a bowlder and genially volunteered: "It is a long journey from
+the shore." Then after a moment he added in a tone of respectful
+inquiry: "You are Lieutenant Lapas?"
+
+The officer had regained his composure. He regarded the other with a
+mild scrutiny touched with superciliousness as he nodded acquiescence
+and in return demanded: "Who are you?"
+
+"Do you see that speck of white down yonder by the sea?" Blanco drew
+close and his outstretched finger pointed a line to the Duke's lodge. "I
+come from there," he explained with concise directness.
+
+The officer bit his lip.
+
+"Why did you come?" The Spaniard paused to roll a cigarette before he
+answered:
+
+"I come from the Duke, of course. Why else should I climb this accursed
+ladder of hills?"
+
+"What Duke?" The interrogation tumbled too eagerly from the soldier's
+lips to be consonant with his wary assumption of innocence. "There are
+so many Dukes. Myself, I serve only the King."
+
+The Spaniard's teeth gleamed, and there was a strangely disarming
+quality in the smile that broke in sudden illumination over his dark
+face.
+
+"I have been here only a few days," explained Blanco. Then, lying with
+apt fluency, he continued: "I have arrived from Cadiz in the service of
+the Grand Duke Louis Delgado, who will soon be His Majesty, Louis of
+Galavia, and I am sent to you as the bearer of his message." He ignored
+the other's protestations of loyalty to the throne as completely as he
+ignored the frightened face of the man who made them.
+
+Lapas had whitened to the lips and now stood hesitant. "I don't
+understand," he stammered.
+
+The Spaniard's expression changed swiftly from good humor to the
+sternness of a taskmaster.
+
+"The Duke is impatient," he asserted, "of delays and misunderstandings
+on the part of his servants. His Grace believed that your memory had
+been well schooled. Louis, the King, may prove forgetful of those who
+are forgetful of Louis, the Duke."
+
+Lapas still stood silent, pitiably unnerved. If the man was Karyl's spy
+an incautious reply might cost him his life. If he was genuinely a
+messenger from the Pretender any hesitation might prove equally fatal.
+
+Time was important. Blanco drew from his pocket a gold seal ring which
+until last night had adorned the finger of the Countess Astaride. Upon
+its shield was the crest of the House of Delgado. At the sight of the
+familiar quarterings, the officer's face became contrite, apologetic,
+but above all immeasurably relieved.
+
+"Caution is so necessary," he explained. "One cannot be too careful. It
+is not for myself alone, but for the Duke also that I must have a care."
+
+Blanco accepted the explanation with a bow, then he spoke energetically
+and rapidly, pressing his advantage before the other's weakness should
+lead him into fresh vacillation.
+
+"The Duke feared that there might be some misunderstanding as to the
+signal and the programme. He wished me to make it clear to you."
+
+Lapas nodded and, turning, led the way through the pine trees to a small
+kiosk that was something between a sentinel box and a signal station
+built against the walls of the old observatory.
+
+"I think I understand," said Lapas, "but I shall be glad to have you
+repeat the Duke's commands and inform me if any changes have been made."
+
+"No, the arrangements stand unaltered," replied the Spaniard. "My
+directions were that you should repeat to me the order of your
+instructions and that I should judge for His Grace whether or not your
+memory is retentive. There must be no hitch."
+
+"I don't know you," demurred Lapas.
+
+"His Grace knows me--and trusts me. That should be sufficient," retorted
+Blanco. "I bring you credentials which you will refuse to recognize at
+your own risk. Unless I were in the confidence of the Duke, I could
+scarcely be here with a knowledge of your plans."
+
+Blanco's eyes blazed in sudden and well simulated wrath. "I have no time
+to waste in argument. Choose quickly. Shall I return to Louis and inform
+him that you refuse to trust those he selects to bear his orders?"
+
+For an instant the Spaniard stood contemptuously regarding the other's
+terror, then with a disgusted exclamation he turned on his heel and
+started to the door of the kiosk. But Lapas was in a moment catching at
+his elbow and protesting himself convinced. He led Blanco back to a
+seat.
+
+"Listen." The Lieutenant sat at the crude table in the center of the
+small room and talked rapidly, as one rehearsing a well-learned lesson.
+
+"The Fortress _do Freres_ is stocked with explosives. Karyl goes there
+with Von Ritz and others of his suite to inspect the place with the view
+of turning it into a prison. The Grand Duke, waiting at his hunting
+lodge, is to receive by wireless the message from Jusseret and
+Borttorff, who convey the verdict of Europe, as to whether or not it is
+decided to recognize his Government. If their message be favorable, he
+will raise the Galavian flag on the west tower of the hunting lodge, and
+I shall relay the message here with the flag at Look-out Point. This
+flag-pole will be the signal to those in the city whose fingers are on
+the key, and whose key will explode the powder in _do Freres_. If the
+flag which now flies from the flag-staff here is still flying when the
+King enters the fortress, the cap will explode. If the flag-staff is
+empty, the King's visit will be uneventful. It will require fifteen
+minutes for the King to go from the Palace to the Fortress. I must not
+remain here--I must be where I can see."
+
+Lapas rose and consulted his watch with nervous haste. "You will excuse
+me?" he added. "I must be at my post. Are you satisfied?"
+
+Blanco also rose, bowing as he drew back the heavy chair he had
+occupied. "I am quite satisfied," he approved. His hands were gripping
+the chairback and when Lapas had taken two paces to the front, and
+Blanco had appraised the distance between, the chair left the floor.
+With the same lightning swiftness of motion that had brought salvos of
+applause from the bull-rings of Cadiz and Seville, he swung it above his
+head and brought down its cumbersome weight in an arc.
+
+Lapas, his eyes fixed on the door, had no hint. A picture of serene sky
+and steady mountains was blotted from his brain. There was blackness
+instead--and unconsciousness.
+
+A bleeding scalp told the _toreador_ that the blow had only cut and
+stunned.
+
+Rapidly he bound and gagged his captive. Dragging him back through the
+narrow room he made certainty doubly sure by tying him to the base of
+the neglected telescope in the abandoned observatory.
+
+A hundred yards below the rock, tucked out of sight of the man at the
+flag-pole, stretched a ledge-like strip of level ground, backed by the
+thick tangle of growth which masked the slope. Beyond its edge of
+roughly blocked and crevassed stone, the gorge fell away a dizzy
+thousand feet. Out of the pines struggled the half-overgrown path where
+once a road had led from the castle. This way the earlier Lords of
+Galavia had come to look across the backbone of the peninsula, to the
+east.
+
+As Benton paced the ledge impatiently, awaiting the outcome of Blanco's
+reconnoiter, he noticed with a nauseating sense of onrushing peril how
+the purpled shadows of the mountains were lengthening across the valley
+and beginning to creep up the other side.
+
+Each time his pacing brought him to the edge of the clearing he paused
+to look down at the sullen walls of Karyl's castle.
+
+A woman, flushed and breathless from the climb, pushed through the scrub
+pines at the path's end and stopped suddenly at the marge of the
+clearing. Her slender girlish figure, clad in corduroy skirt and blue
+jersey, was poised with lance-like straightness, and a grace as free as
+a boy's. Her hands, cased in battered gauntlets, went suddenly to her
+breast, as though she would muffle the palpitant heart beneath the
+jersey. She stood for a moment looking at the man and the ultramarine of
+her eyes clouded slowly into gray. The pink flush of exercise died
+instantly to pallor in her cheeks.
+
+Then the lips overcame an impulse to quiver and spoke slowly in an
+undertone and with marked effort. "This is twice that I have seen you,"
+she whispered, "although you are three thousand miles away."
+
+The man wheeled, not suddenly, but heavily and slowly. "I am real," he
+answered simply.
+
+Cara put out one hand like a sleep-walker, and came forward, still
+incredulous.
+
+"Cara, dearest one!" he said impetuously. "You must have known that I
+would be near you--that I would be standing by, even though I couldn't
+help!"
+
+She shook her head. "I have been having these hallucinations, you know,
+of late." She explained as though to herself. "I guess it's--it's just
+missing people so that does it."
+
+She was close to him now, close, too, to the sheer drop of the cliff,
+walking forward with eyes wide and fixed on his face. He took a quick
+step forward and swept her to him, crushing her against his breast.
+
+She gave a glad exclamation of realization, and her own arms closed
+impulsively around his neck.
+
+"You are real! You are real!" she whispered, looking into his eyes, her
+gauntleted hands holding his face between them.
+
+"Cara," he begged, "listen to me. It's my last plea. You said in the
+letter I have in my pocket--there where your heart is beating--that you
+could not refuse me if I came again. Dear, this is 'again.' The _Isis_
+is a speck out there at sea awaiting a signal. Will you go? I have no
+throne to offer, but--"
+
+"Don't," she cried, holding a hand over his lips. "For a minute--just
+for a little golden minute--let us forget thrones." Then as the furrow
+came back between her brows: "Oh, boy, it's my destiny to be always
+strong enough to resist happiness when I might have it by being less
+strong, and always too weak to bear bravely what must be borne--when it
+can't be helped."
+
+He stood silent.
+
+After a moment she went on. "And I love you. Ah, you know that well
+enough, but up there beyond your head which I love, I see the green and
+white and blue flag of Galavia which I hate, and destiny commands me to
+be disloyal to you for loyalty to it. On the eve of life imprisonment,"
+she went on, clinging to him, "I have stolen away to play truant perhaps
+for the last time--still craving freedom, longing for you; and now I
+find freedom, and you, just to lose you again! I can't--I can't--yes--I
+can--I will!"
+
+Suddenly he held her off at arms' length and looked at her with a
+strange wide-eyed expression of discovery.
+
+"But," he cried with the vehemence of a sudden thought, "you are up
+here--safe! Safe, whatever happens down there! Nothing that occurs there
+can affect you!"
+
+"Safe, of course," she spoke wonderingly. "What danger is there?"
+
+The man turned. "For God's sake--let me think a moment!" He dropped on
+the pine needles and sat with his hands covering his face and his
+fingers pressed into his temples. She came over.
+
+"Does that prevent your thinking?" she softly asked, dropping on her
+knees at his side and letting one hand rest on his shoulder.
+
+For moments, lengthening into minutes, he sat immovable, fighting back
+the agonized and torrential flood of thought which burst upon him with
+unwarned temptation. The danger was not after all a danger to the woman
+he loved, but a menace to his enemy. She was safe three thousand feet
+above the threatening city. He had only to hold his hand, perhaps, for a
+half-hour; had only to keep her here and let matters follow their
+course.
+
+He was not entertaining the thought, except to assure himself that he
+could not entertain it, but it was racking him with its suddenness. The
+King was there--in peril. She was here--safe. Insistently these two
+facts assaulted his brain.
+
+"Pardon, _Senor_." Blanco broke noisily down through the pines and
+halted where the path emerged. For an instant he stood in bewildered
+surprise.
+
+"Pardon, Your Highness--" he exclaimed, bending low; then, quenching the
+recognition in his eyes and assuming mistake, he laughed. "Ah, I ask
+forgiveness, _Senorita_. I mistook you for the Princess. The resemblance
+is strong. I see my error."
+
+"Manuel!" Benton rose unsteadily and stared at the _toreador_ with a
+face pallid as chalk. He spoke wildly, "Quick, Manuel--have you learned
+anything?"
+
+The Spaniard glanced inquiringly at the girl, and as Benton nodded
+reassurance went on in a lowered voice. Only fragments of his speech
+reached Cara's ears. Her own thoughts left her too apathetic to listen.
+
+"The plan is this. It is to happen at the Fortress _do Freres_ this
+afternoon while the King inspects the arsenal. Now, in fifteen minutes!"
+He pointed down toward the city. "See, the cortege leaves the Palace!
+Lapas was to be here at the rock--the blessed Saints help him! He is
+hobbled to his telescope." Swiftly he rehearsed the story as it had come
+from the lips of Lapas.
+
+Benton was studying the Duke's lodge with his glasses. "There is a flag
+flying on the west tower," he muttered.
+
+He turned slowly toward the Princess. Outstanding veins were tracing
+cordlike lines on his temples. His fingers trembled as he focused the
+glasses.
+
+Blanco looked slowly from one to the other. Suddenly he threw back both
+shoulders and his eyes grew bright in full comprehension of the
+situation he had discovered.
+
+"_Senor!_" he whispered.
+
+"Yes?" echoed the American in a dull voice.
+
+"_Senor_--suppose--suppose I have confused the signals?" The tone was
+insinuating.
+
+Benton's mind flashed back to a Sunday School class of his childhood and
+his infantile horror for the tale of a tempter on a high mountain
+offering the possession of all the world if only--if only--
+
+He took a step forward. Speech seemed to choke him.
+
+"In God's name!" he cried, "you have not forgotten?"
+
+The Spaniard slowly shook his head and smiled. The expression gave to
+his face a touch of the sinister. "No--but it is yet possible to forget,
+_Senor_. I serve no King, I serve you. Sometimes a mistake is the truest
+accuracy. _Quien sabe?_"
+
+The Andalusian looked at the girl who stood puzzled and waiting.
+"Sometimes in the _Plaza de Toros, Senor_," he went on, speaking rapidly
+and tensely, "the throngs cry, '_Bravo, matador_!' and toss coins into
+the ring. Yet in a moment the same throngs may shout until their
+throats are hoarse: '_Bravo, toro_!' A King is like a bull in the ring,
+_Senor_--he has a fickle fate. To me he is nothing--if it pleases
+them--it is their King--let them do as they wish." He shrugged his
+shoulders.
+
+Benton straightened. "Manuel," he said with a strained tone, "the flag
+comes down."
+
+The Andalusian smiled regretfully, and once more shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"As you say, _Senor_, but are you sure you wish it so?"
+
+"Manuel, I mean that!" said the American with a steadied voice. "And for
+God's sake, Manuel," he added wildly, "throw the rope over the gorge
+when you have done it!"
+
+For a moment Benton stood rigid, his hands clenched together at his back
+as he watched the quick step of the Andalusian climbing to the
+flag-staff. At last he turned dully and looked down where he could see
+the royal cortege, not yet half-way along the road to the fortress, then
+he went over to the girl's side.
+
+"Cara," he said, "I have earned the right to kiss you good-by."
+
+"It's yours without the earning, but good-by--!" She shuddered. "What
+does it all mean?" she asked in bewilderment. "What was it you
+discussed?"
+
+"Listen," he commanded. "Tell Von Ritz or Karyl that Lapas is a traitor
+and a prisoner in the observatory; that Louis is at his lodge and that
+the Countess Astaride is a conspirator in a plot to assassinate the
+King. Tell them that a percussion cap and key connect the magazines of
+_do Freres_ with the city."
+
+The Princess looked at him with eyes that slowly widened in amazed
+comprehension. "I understand," she whispered. "And the flag--see, it is
+coming down--that means?"
+
+He dropped on one knee and lifted her fingers to his lips. "It means
+that you are to be crowned Queen in Galavia to-morrow," he answered with
+a groan. "Long live the Queen!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+CONCERNING FAREWELLS AND WARNINGS
+
+
+"To-morrow!" repeated the girl with a shudder.
+
+Both stood silent under such a strain as cannot be long sustained. At
+the crunch of branch underfoot and the returning Blanco's, "_Senor!
+Senor!_" both started violently.
+
+"Look, _Senor_," exclaimed the Spaniard. "The King has entered the
+fortress." Then, seeing that the eyes of both man and girl turned at his
+words from an intent gaze, not on the town but the opposite hills, he
+added, half-apologetic: "I shall go, _Senor_, and look to my prisoner.
+If you need me, I shall be there."
+
+With the same stricken misery in her eyes that they had worn as she
+passed in her carriage, Cara remained motionless and silent.
+
+The bottom of the valley grew cloudy with shadow. The sun was kissing
+into rosy pink the snow caps of the western ridge. A cavalcade of
+horsemen emerged at last from _do Freres_ and started at a smart trot
+for the Palace. Cara pointed downward with one tremulous finger. Benton
+nodded.
+
+"Safe," he said, but without enthusiasm.
+
+"I must go." Cara started down the path and the man walked beside her as
+far as the battered gate which hung awry from its broken columns. Over
+it now clambered masses of vine richly purple with bougonvillea. She
+broke off a branch and handed it to him. "Purple," she said again, "is
+the color of mourning and royalty."
+
+Blanco noted the coming of evening and realized that it would be well to
+reach the level of the city before dark. He knew that if Lapas was to be
+turned over to Karyl's authorities, steps to that end should be taken
+before he was discovered and released by those of his own faction. He
+accordingly made his way back to the gate.
+
+Benton was still standing, looking down the alley-way which ran between
+the half ruined lines of masonry. His shoulders unconsciously sagged.
+
+The Spaniard approached quietly and stood for a moment unwilling to
+interrupt, then in a low voice touched with that affectionate note which
+men are not ashamed to show even to other men in the Latin countries, he
+said: "_Senor_ Benton!"
+
+The American turned and put out his hand, grasping that of the
+_toreador_. His grip said what his lips left unworded.
+
+"_Dios mio!_" exclaimed Blanco with a black scowl. "We saved the King,
+but we bought his life and his throne too high! He cost too dear!"
+
+"Blanco," Benton spoke with difficulty, "I have brought you with me and
+you have asked no questions. The story is not mine to tell."
+
+The Andalusian raised a hand in protestation.
+
+"It is not necessary that you tell me anything, _Senor_. I have seen
+enough. And I know the King was not worth the price."
+
+Benton shook his head. "Are you going on with me, now that you know what
+you know?"
+
+"_Senor_, it grieves me that you should ask. I told you I was at your
+disposition." The Spaniard went on talking rapidly, talking with lips
+and eyes and gesture. "When you came to Cadiz and took me with you on
+the small steamer, I did not ask why. I thought it was as Americans are
+interested in all things--or perhaps because the many million _pesetas_
+of the _Senor's_ fortune might be affected by changing the map of
+Europe. No matter. You were interested. It was enough."
+
+He swept both hands apart.
+
+"But had I known then what to-day has taught me, I should have held my
+tongue that evening when the Pretender plotted in the cafe."
+
+"To-morrow," said Benton slowly, "there will be festivity. I can't be
+here then. I must leave to-night--but you, _amigo mio_, you must stay
+and watch. If Lapas is taken prisoner and silenced there will be no one
+in Puntal who will suspect you. No one knew me and if I leave at once,
+the Countess will hardly learn who was the mysterious man to whom she
+gave a ring."
+
+"But, _Senor_,"--Blanco was dubious--"would it not be better that I
+should be with you?"
+
+"You can serve me better by remaining here. I would rather have you near
+Her."
+
+The man from Cadiz nodded and crossed himself.
+
+"I am pledged, _Senor_," he asserted.
+
+"Then," continued the American, "for a time we must separate. The _Isis_
+will sail to-night."
+
+The men walked together to the terminal station of the small ratchet
+railway. When they parted the Spaniard and the yachtsman had arranged a
+telegraph code which might be used by the small but complete wireless
+equipment of the _Isis_. An hour later the launch from the yacht took
+him aboard at the ancient stone jetty, where the fruit-venders and
+wine-sellers shouted their jargon, and the seaweed clung to the landing
+stage.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When Karyl had returned to the Palace after the inspection of the
+Fortress _do Freres_, he had sent word at once to that part of the
+Palace where Cara had her suite. She was accompanied by her aunt, the
+Duchess of Apsberg, and her English cousin, Lilian Carrowes, who also
+knew something of the life in America with the Bristows.
+
+The King craved an interview. He had not seen her since morning and his
+request conveyed the desolation occasioned by the long interval of empty
+time.
+
+The girl, who in the more informal phases had consistently defied the
+Court etiquette, sent an affirmative reply, and Karyl, still in uniform
+and dust-stained, came at once to the rooms where she was to receive
+him.
+
+There was much to talk of, and the King came forward eagerly, but the
+girl halted his protestations and rapidly sketched for him the summary
+of all she had learned that afternoon.
+
+With growing astonishment Karyl listened, then slowly his brows came
+together in a frown.
+
+It was distasteful to him beyond expression to feel that he owed his
+life and throne to Benton, but of that he said nothing. Lapas had been,
+in the days of his childhood, his playmate. He had been the recipient of
+every possible favor, and Karyl, himself ingenuous and loyal to his
+friends, felt with double bitterness that not only had his enemy saved
+him, but, too, his friend had betrayed him.
+
+Then came a hurried message from Von Ritz, who begged to see the King at
+once. The soldier must have been only a step behind his messenger, for
+hardly had his admittance been ordered when he appeared.
+
+The officer looked from the King to the Princess, and his eyes
+telegraphed a request for a moment of private audience.
+
+"You may as well speak here," said Karyl dryly. "Her Highness knows what
+you are about to say."
+
+"Lieutenant Lapas," began Von Ritz imperturbably, "has not been seen at
+the Palace to-day. His duties required his presence this evening. He was
+to be near Your Majesty at the coronation to-morrow."
+
+"Where is he?" demanded the King.
+
+"That is what I should like to know," replied Von Ritz. "I learn that
+last night the Count Borttorff was in Puntal and that Lapas was with
+him. To-day the Countess Astaride left Puntal, greatly agitated. I am
+informed that from her window she watched _do Freres_ with glasses
+during Your Majesty's visit there, and that when you left she swooned.
+Within ten minutes she was on her way to the quay and boarded the
+out-going steamer for Villefranche. These things may spell grave
+danger."
+
+So rarely had Karyl been able to anticipate Von Ritz in even the
+smallest matter that now, despite his own chagrin, he could not repress
+a cynical smile as he inquired: "What do you make of it?"
+
+Von Ritz shook his head. "I shall report to Your Majesty within an
+hour," he responded.
+
+"That is not necessary," Karyl spoke coolly. "You will, I am informed,
+find Lieutenant Lapas bound to a telescope at the Rock. You will find
+the explosives at _do Freres_ connected with a percussion cap which was
+to have been touched while we were there this afternoon. The Countess
+was disappointed because the percussion cap was not exploded. Sometimes,
+when ladies are bitterly grieved, they swoon."
+
+For a moment the older man studied the younger with an expression of
+surprise, then the sphinx-like gravity returned to his face.
+
+"Your Majesty, may I inquire why the cap failed to explode?" he asked,
+with pardonable curiosity.
+
+"Because"--Karyl's cheeks flushed hotly--"an American gentleman, who had
+been here a few hours, intercepted the signal--and reversed it."
+
+For an instant Von Ritz looked fixedly into the face of the King, then
+he bowed.
+
+"In that case," he commented, "there are various things to be done."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+COUNTESS AND CABINET NOIR JOIN FORCES
+
+
+When Monsieur Francois Jusseret, the cleverest unattached ambassador of
+France's _Cabinet Noir_, had first met the Countess Astaride, his
+sardonic eyes had twinkled dry appreciation.
+
+This meeting had seemed to be the result of a chance introduction. It
+had in reality been carefully designed by the French manipulator of
+underground wires. Louis Delgado he already knew, and held in contempt,
+yet Louis was the only possible instrument for use in converting certain
+vague possibilities into definite realities. Changing the nebulous into
+the concrete; shifting the dotted line of a frontier from here to there
+on a map; changing the likeness that adorned a coin or postage-stamp:
+these were things to which Monsieur Jusseret lent himself with the same
+zest that actuates the hunting dog and makes his work also his passion.
+
+If the vacillation of Louis Delgado could be complemented by the strong
+ambition of a woman, perhaps he might be almost as serviceable as though
+the strength were inherent. And Paris knew that Louis worshiped at the
+shrine of the Countess Astaride. The Countess was therefore worth
+inspecting.
+
+The presentation occurred in Paris, when the Duke took his acquaintance
+to the charming apartments overlooking the Arc de Triomphe, where the
+lady poured tea for a small _salon_ enlisted from that colony of
+ambitious and broken-hearted men and women who hold fanatically to the
+faith that some throne, occupied by another, should be their own. Here
+with ceremony and stately etiquette foregathered Carlists and
+Bonapartists and exiled Dictators from South America. Here one heard the
+gossip of large conspiracies that come to nothing; of revolutions that
+go no farther than talk.
+
+In Paris the Duke Louis Delgado was nursing, with lukewarm indignation,
+wrath against his royal uncle of Galavia who had fixed upon him a sort
+of modified exile.
+
+Louis had only a languid interest in the feud between his arm of the
+family and the reigning branch. He would willingly enough have taken a
+scepter from the hand of any King-maker who proffered it, but he would
+certainly never, of his own incentive, have struck a blow for a throne.
+
+Sometimes, indeed, as he sat at a cafe table on the _Champs Elysees_
+when awakening dreams of Spring were in the air and a military band was
+playing in the distance, dormant ambitions awoke. Sometimes when he
+watched the opalescent gleam in his glass as the garcon carefully
+dripped water over absinthe, he would picture himself wresting from the
+incumbent, the Crown of Galavia, and would hear throngs shouting "Long
+live King Louis!" At such moments his stimulated spirit would indulge in
+large visions, and his half-degenerate face would smile through its
+gentle but dissipated languor.
+
+Louis Delgado was a man of inaction. He had that quality of personal
+daring which is not akin to moral resoluteness. He was ready enough at a
+fancied insult to exchange cards and meet his adversary on the field,
+but a throne against which he plotted was as safe, unless threatened by
+outside influences, as a throne may ever be.
+
+When Louis presented Jusseret to the Countess Astaride there flashed
+between the woman of audacious imagination and the master of intrigue a
+message of kinship. The Frenchman bent low over her hand.
+
+"That hand, Madame," he had whispered, "was made to wield a scepter."
+
+The Countess had laughed with the melodious zylophone note that caressed
+the ear, and had flashed on Jusseret her smile which was a magic thing
+of ivory and flesh and sudden sunshine. She had held up the slender
+fingers of the hand he had flattered, possibly a trace pleased with the
+effect of the Duke's latest gift, a huge emerald set about with small
+but remarkably pure brilliants. She had contemplated it, critically, and
+after a brief silence had let her eyes wander from its jewels to the
+Frenchman's face.
+
+"Wielding a scepter, Monsieur," she had suggested smilingly, "is less
+difficult than seizing a scepter. I fear I should need a stronger hand."
+
+"Ah, but Madame," the Frenchman had hastened to protest, "these are the
+days of the deft finger and the deft brain. Even crowns to-day are not
+won in tug-of-war."
+
+The woman had looked at him half-seriously, half-challengingly.
+
+"I am told, Monsieur Jusseret," she said, "that no government in Europe
+has a secret which you do not know. I am told that you have changed a
+crown or two from head to head in your career. Let me see _your_ hand."
+
+Instantly he had held it out. The fastidiously manicured fingers were as
+tapering and white as her own.
+
+"Madame," he observed gravely, "you flatter me. My hand has done
+nothing. But I do not attribute its failure to its lack of brawn."
+
+"Some day," murmured Delgado, from his inert posture in the deep
+cushions of a divan, "when the time is ripe, I shall strike a decisive
+blow for the Throne of Galavia."
+
+Jusseret's lip had half-curled, then swiftly he had turned and flashed a
+look of inquiry upon the woman. Her eyes had been on Louis and she had
+not caught the quick glint that came into the Frenchman's pupils, or the
+thoughtful regard with which he studied her and the Duke across the edge
+of his teacup. Later, when he rose to make his adieux, she noted the
+thoughtful expression on his face.
+
+"Sometimes," he had said enigmatically, and had paused to allow his
+meaning to sink in, "sometimes a scepter stays where it is, not because
+the hand that holds it is strong, but because the outstretched hand is
+weak or inept. Your hand is suited."
+
+She had searched his eyes with her own just long enough to make him feel
+that in the give-and-take of glances hers did not drop or evade, and he,
+trained in the niceties of diplomatic warfare, had caught the message.
+
+So the Countess had been fired with ardent dreams and later, when the
+time seemed ripe, it was to her that Jusseret went, and with her that he
+made his secret alliance.
+
+The ambitions cherished by Marie Astaride to become Louis' queen were
+secondary to a sincere devotion for Louis himself.
+
+When at the last he had weakened and threatened to crumple, it was she
+who goaded him back to resolution. When the Duke had gone half-heartedly
+to his lodge to await the decision of the European Powers, it was she
+who went to Puntal to direct the conspirators and watch, from the
+windows of her hotel suite, the fortress on the jetty.
+
+Her one deplorable error had been in mistaking Benton for Martin. This
+had been natural enough. Though she had never met the "English Jackal,"
+she had once or twice seen him at a distance, and she had been misled by
+a strong resemblance and an excessive eagerness.
+
+The afternoon she had spent on the balcony of her suite, her eyes fixed
+on the Fortress _do Freres_.
+
+At last, with a wildly beating heart she had seen the King, Von Ritz and
+the escort ride up to the entrance and disappear. She had
+waited--waited--waited, her nerves set for the climax, until the
+continued silence seemed an unendurable shock.
+
+Then the King and escort emerged. She, sitting pale and rigid, saw them
+mount and turn back unharmed toward the city. Her ears, eagerly set for
+the detonation which should shake the town and reverberate along the
+mountain sides, ached with the emptiness of silence.
+
+Across the street a soldier, off duty and in civilian clothes, sat on
+the sea-wall and whittled. Incidentally he noticed that Madame the
+Countess was interested beyond the usual in some matter. He was there to
+notice Madame the Countess. His instructions from Von Ritz had been to
+keep a record of her goings and comings, and who came to see her or went
+away.
+
+Therefore, when the King and his small retinue had trotted past the
+window and when Madame the Countess rose to go in, and when just as she
+crossed the low sill of the window she suddenly caught up both hands to
+her throat and fell heavily to the floor, the soldier, whittling a small
+crucifix, made a record of that also. When a moment later a gentleman
+whom he had not seen in Puntal for months, but whom he knew as the Count
+Borttorff, because that gentleman had formerly been Major of his
+battalion, hurriedly left a closed carriage and entered the place, the
+incident was noted. When still later both Borttorff and the Countess
+emerged and reentered the conveyance, driving rapidly away, he likewise
+noted these things. Going from the pier whither he had followed the
+closed carriage, he reported his observations with soldierly dispatch to
+Colonel Von Ritz.
+
+The Grand Duke Louis meanwhile, waiting in great anxiety, had received
+the message which had come by the wireless mast. The words were in code,
+and being translated they read: "France, Italy, Spain, Portugal will
+recognize. Strike." The signature was "Jt.," which Delgado knew for
+Jusseret. The Duke had been greatly excited. He paced the room in a
+nervous tremor. It was arranged that a small steamer, which had stood a
+short distance offshore since yesterday to relay the wireless message
+and make it doubly sure, should pick the Duke up as soon as Lapas
+signaled by a triple dip of the flag that the fortress had been
+destroyed. The steamer was then to rush the Grand Duke around the cape
+to Puntal, bringing him in as though he had come from Spain. Those
+conspirators who were in the capital, strengthened by those who would
+declare for Louis, with Karyl dead and no other heir existent, would
+proclaim him King. Lapas would see that the royal salute was fired as
+the steamer entered the harbor, and the Countess would either meet him
+and explain all the details or would speak with him by Marconi if she
+had left the town.
+
+Louis spent the forenoon in an agony of anxiety and impatience. All
+afternoon he watched through binoculars the white and blue and green
+flag on the rock above him. He was waiting for the triple dip that
+should tell him the fortress had been scattered in debris and with it
+the government. Evidently the King was late going to the arsenal.
+
+He had imagined it would be earlier. The hours dragged interminably.
+Louis walked the stone buttress where the flag which he had raised in
+signal to Lapas flapped and whipped against its staff. At last his
+binoculars, fixed on the rock, caught the dip of the colors there. With
+a great sigh of relief the Duke watched to see them rise and dip, rise
+and dip again. The flag came down the length of the pole--and did not go
+up.
+
+Panic seized the Pretender. There was no way of talking with the ridge
+three thousand feet above. It was a climb of an hour and a half by the
+pass. Evidently there had been a miscarriage. In the prearranged code of
+flag signals the only provision for the drooping of the colors on the
+hill was in the event that it should be wished to stop the explosion.
+That would be only in the event of refusal by the governments to
+recognize; the governments had not refused! Possibly Lapas had turned
+traitor!
+
+There had also been some unexplained delay seaward. The little steamer,
+which should have remained near by, was a speck on the horizon, and
+without her there was no possibility of escape. Wildly Louis, the
+Dreamer, hurried to his improvised Marconi station and called the ship.
+Finally toward evening came a response and with it a message from
+somewhere out at sea, relayed from ship to ship around the peninsula.
+
+The message said simply in code: "Failure. Make your escape." It was
+signed "M. A."--Marie Astaride.
+
+Louis rushed, panic-stricken, down to the shore. He and the few men with
+him paced the beach in the settling twilight with desperate anxiety. The
+steamer seemed to creep in, snail-like, over the smooth water. Meanwhile
+binoculars fixed on the pass showed a number of small specks sifting
+like ants through the lofty opening. Troops were advancing. It was now
+the life-and-death question of which would arrive first, the boats from
+the ship that had stood off at sea a bit too long, or the soldiers
+coming across the broken backbone of the mountains.
+
+At last the ship had drawn near, and circled under full steam far enough
+out to get away to a flying start as soon as the Ducal party had been
+taken on board. Small boats were rushed toward the beach and Louis, the
+Dreamer, with his party waded knee-deep into the water to meet the
+rescuers.
+
+At the same moment a bugle call announced the coming of Karyl's
+soldiery.
+
+As Louis Delgado went over the side, he turned quickly back and, leaning
+over the rail, gazed through the settling darkness toward shore.
+
+"Do we make for Puntal, Your Majesty?" inquired the captain, saluting.
+
+Louis turned coldly. "No."
+
+The officer looked at the Duke for a moment and read defeat in his eyes.
+
+"Where then--Your Grace?" he inquired.
+
+Louis winced under the quick amendment of title. "Anywhere," he said
+shortly; "anywhere--except Puntal."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+THE TOREADOR BECOMES AMBASSADOR
+
+
+Manuel Blanco was ubiquitous during the first days following the
+coronation. He listened to the fragments of talk that drifted along the
+streets. He frequented the band concerts in the Public Gardens and drank
+native vintages in the wine-shops. He elbowed his way naively into
+chattering groups with his ears primed for a careless word. Nowhere did
+he catch a note hinting of intrigue or danger. It seemed a sound
+conclusion that if the plotters had not entirely surrendered their
+project for switching Kings in Galavia, their conspiracies were being
+once more fomented on foreign soil, just as the first plan had been
+incubated in Cadiz.
+
+One evening shortly after the dual celebration, a steamer laden with
+tourists lay at anchor in the bay, outlined in points of light like a
+set-piece of fireworks. Hundreds of new sight-seeing faces swarmed along
+the narrow, cobbled streets. This would be a great night in the
+Strangers' Club and Blanco decided to spend an hour there.
+
+In evening dress he moved through the gardens and pavilions of the
+casino on the rock, where with the coming of darkness the gayety of the
+town began to focus and sparkle.
+
+The coronation of Karyl had brought to an end official mourning for the
+late King, and the crepe which had palled the national insignia on all
+public buildings had been cleared away. With this restoration of public
+gayety came a liberal sprinkling of uniforms to the throngs that crowded
+the ball-rooms, tea-gardens and gambling halls.
+
+Blanco was standing apart, looking on, when he felt a light touch on his
+shoulder and turned to find a young officer at his back who smilingly
+begged him for a moment in the gardens. The Spaniard noticed that the
+man who addressed him wore the epaulettes of a Captain of Infantry and
+the added stripe and crown of gold lace at the cuff which designated
+service in the household of the reigning family.
+
+He turned and accompanied the officer through the wide door into the
+lantern-hung grounds, passing between the groups which clustered
+everywhere about small wicker tea-tables. There were no quiet or
+secluded spots in the gardens of the Strangers' Club to-night, but after
+a brief glance right and left the Captain led the way to a table in a
+shadowed niche between two doors. The light there was more shadowed and
+the tides of promenaders did not crowd so close upon it as elsewhere. As
+the two came up a third man rose from this table and Manuel found
+himself looking into the flinty eyes of Colonel Von Ritz.
+
+Von Ritz spoke briefly. If _Senor_ Blanco could spare the time, His
+Majesty wished to speak with him.
+
+The younger officer turned back into the casino and Von Ritz led the
+_toreador_ through the front gardens, where the tennis courts lay bare
+between the palms. The acacias and sycamores were soft, dark spots
+against the far-flung procession of the stars.
+
+The street outside was crowded with fiacres and cabs. Von Ritz signaled
+to a footman and in a moment more Blanco and his escort had stepped into
+a closed carriage and were being driven toward the Palace. They entered
+by a side passage and the Colonel conducted him through several halls
+and chambers filled with uniformed officers, and finally into a more
+remote part of the building where they met only an occasional servant.
+At last they came into a great room entirely empty but for themselves.
+About the walls hung ripened portraits. The decorations were of
+Arabesque mosaics with fantastic panels of Moorish tiling. It might have
+been a grandee's house in Seville, patterned on the Alcazar. Evidently
+this was part of a private suite. Heavy portieres were only partly drawn
+across a wide window with the sill at the floor level, and through them
+Blanco dimly saw a balcony giving out over a small garden, and
+commanding more distantly the harbor and town lights below. From
+somewhere in the garden came the splashing of a small fountain.
+
+Here Von Ritz left his charge to himself, silently departing with a bow.
+For a while the Spaniard remained alone. The room was not so brightly
+illuminated as many through which he had come on his way across the
+Palace. Light filtered through swinging lamps of wrought metal encrusted
+with prisms of green and amber and garnet. The Moorish scheme depends in
+part upon its shadows. Finally a gentleman entered from a balcony. He
+was neither in uniform nor in evening dress. His face was smooth-shaven
+and pleasing.
+
+Blanco fancied this was a secretary or attendant of some sort, and was
+conscious of slight surprise that as he entered the place he smoked a
+cigarette with a freedom scarcely fitting the King's personal chambers.
+At the window the gentleman halted and looked Blanco over with a frank
+but not offensive curiosity. Manuel returned the gaze, wondering where
+he had seen the face before, yet unable to identify it. Then the
+newcomer crossed and proffered the Spaniard a cigarette from a gold
+case, which the _toreador_ declined with a shake of his head.
+
+"_Gracias, Senor_," he said, "but I am waiting for the King."
+
+The other smiled, and the visitor noticed that even in smiling his lips
+fell into lines of sadness.
+
+"None the less," he said pleasantly, "a man may as well have the solace
+of tobacco while he waits--even though he awaits a King."
+
+The Andalusian once more shook his head, and the other continued to
+study him with that undisguised interest which his eyes had worn from
+the first.
+
+"So you are one of the two men," he said, "who learned what all the
+secret agents of the Throne failed to unearth. Incidentally it is to you
+that the present King owes not only his Crown, but his life as well." He
+paused.
+
+"After all," he went on, "it is neither your fault nor Mr. Benton's that
+the King could have done very well without either the Crown or his life.
+You restored something which perhaps he held worthless.... But that is
+his own misfortune."
+
+Blanco's expressive face mirrored a shade of resentment. He had come on
+summons from the King and found himself listening to the familiar, even
+disrespectful, chatter of some underling who laughed at his Monarch and
+lightly appraised the value of his life while he smoked cigarettes in
+the Royal apartments. The Spaniard bowed stiffly.
+
+"I observe you are in the confidence of the King," he said, in a tone
+not untouched with disapproval.
+
+The other man's lips curled in amusement. After a moment he replied with
+simple gravity.
+
+"I am the King."
+
+Blanco stood gazing in astonishment. "You--the King!" Then, recognizing
+that the shaving of a mustache and the change into civilian clothes had
+made the difference in a face and figure he had seen only on the streets
+and through shifting crowds, he bowed with belated deference.
+
+Karyl once more held out his case. "Now perhaps you will have a
+cigarette?"
+
+The _toreador_ took one and lighted it slowly. The King went on.
+
+"My sole pleasure is pretending that I am not a Monarch. Between
+ourselves, I should prefer other employment. You, for example, I am told
+have won fame in the bull ring--and it was fame you earned for
+yourself."
+
+Blanco flushed, then, bethinking himself of the fact that he had been
+brought here presumably with a purpose, he ventured to suggest: "Your
+Majesty wished to see me about some matter?"
+
+The other shook his head.
+
+"No," he said slowly, "it was not really I who sent for you. It was Her
+Majesty, the Queen."
+
+Before he had time for response the _toreador_ caught the sound of a
+shaken curtain behind him, but since he stood facing the King he did not
+turn.
+
+Karyl, however, looked up, and then swiftly crossed the room. As he
+passed, Blanco wheeled to face him and was in time to see him holding
+back the portieres of a door for the Queen to enter.
+
+She was gowned in black with the sparkle of passementerie and jet, and
+at her breast she wore a single red rose. As she stood for a moment on
+the threshold, despite the majesty of her slender poise it appeared to
+Blanco that her grace was rather that of something wild and free and
+that the Palace seemed to cage her. But that may have been because, as
+she paused, her hands went to her breast and a furrow came between her
+brows, while the corners of her lips drooped wistfully like a child's.
+
+The King stooped to kiss her hand, and she turned toward him with a
+smile which was pallid and which did not dissipate the unhappiness of
+her face. Then Karyl straightened and said to Blanco, who felt himself
+suddenly grow awkward as a muleteer: "The Queen."
+
+Manuel dropped on one knee. At a gesture from Cara he rose and waited
+for her to speak. Karyl himself halted at the door for a moment, then
+came slowly back into the room. He picked up from a tabouret a
+decoration of the Star of Galavia, and, crossing over, pinned it to the
+Spaniard's lapel.
+
+"There!" he said, with a good-humored laugh. "You made me a somewhat
+valueless present a few days back. You will find that equally useless,
+Sir Manuel. You may tell Mr. Benton that I envy him such an ally."
+
+With a bow to the Queen, the King left the apartment.
+
+For a moment the girl stood at the door, with the same expression and
+the same silence, unbroken by her since her entrance, then she turned to
+the Spaniard and spoke directly. Her voice held a tremor.
+
+"How is he?"
+
+"I have not seen him since the day on the mountain," returned Manuel.
+
+"He has, in you, a very true friend."
+
+"Your Majesty, I am his servant," deprecated the toreador.
+
+"If I had friends like you," she smiled, "it would matter little what
+they called themselves. And yet, if there is but one like you, I had
+rather that that one be with him. I want you to go to him now and remain
+with him."
+
+"Your Majesty, _Senor_ Benton left me here to watch for recurring
+dangers. I am now satisfied that nothing threatens, at least for the
+present. I might, as Your Majesty suggests, better be with him."
+
+"Yes--yes--with him!" she eagerly agreed; then her voice took on the
+timbre of anxiety. "I am afraid. Sometimes I am afraid for him. He is
+not a coward, but there are times when we all become weak. I appoint
+you, Sir Manuel--" the girl smiled wanly--"I appoint you my Ambassador
+to be with him and watch after him--and, Sir Manuel--" her voice shook a
+little with very deep feeling--"I am giving you the office I had rather
+have than all the thrones in Christendom! Will you accept it?"
+
+She held out her hand, and taking it reverently in his own, the
+Andalusian bowed low over it. He did not kneel, for now he was the
+Ambassador in the presence of his Sovereign. "With all the Saints for my
+witnesses," he declared fervently, "I swear it to Your Majesty."
+
+There was gratitude in her eyes as they met the whole-heartedness of the
+pledge in his. For a moment she seemed unable to speak, though there was
+no dimness of tear-mist in her pupils. She stood very upright and
+silent, and her breathing was deep. Then slowly her hands came up and
+loosened the flower at her breast.
+
+"The King has decorated you, Sir Manuel," she said. "I don't think Mr.
+Benton would care for knighthood--and I could not confer it--but
+sometime--not now--some day after you have both departed from Galavia,
+give him this. Tell him it may have a message which I may not put in
+words. If he can read the heart of a rose deeply enough, perhaps he can
+find it there."
+
+When Blanco had carefully folded the emblem of his embassy in paper and
+deposited it in his breast pocket, she gave him her hand again, and,
+turning, went out through the same door that she had entered.
+
+Back in the town, Blanco had certain investigations to make. He knew Von
+Ritz's men had been too late to capture the Duke, and that the Countess
+Astaride had sailed by the steamer leaving for French and Italian ports.
+Wherever these two conspirators should meet would become the next point
+to watch.
+
+Blanco felt sure that Louis would be willing to drop back into the
+routine of his life in Paris, freshly stocked with pessimistic memories
+of how a crown had slipped through his fingers. It would take driving to
+prevent him lagging into the inertia of sentimental brooding. On the
+other hand, he knew that the Countess Astaride, having gone so far,
+would never again relinquish her ambitions. He knew the temper of the
+Countess's mind from various bits of gossip he had heard and now also
+from what he had seen. He knew that, while she was entirely willing to
+participate in a murder plot to further her designs, she was not fired
+solely by a lust for power. More deeply she was actuated by her wish to
+make Louis Delgado a man of potentiality because she loved Louis
+Delgado.
+
+That love might evidence itself in savagery toward men who obstructed
+the road which her lover must travel to a crown, but it was a ferocity
+born of love for the Pretender.
+
+Since this was true it was not probable that she would allow the matter
+to end where it stood. Even if she were willing, it was more than
+certain that Jusseret had not entered into the undertaking without some
+sufficient end in view. Having entered it, he would not relinquish it
+because the first attempt had been bungled.
+
+That same night Manuel sent a message to the _Isis_, saying that he was
+sailing the following morning by the Genoa steamer and asking that the
+yacht meet the ship and take him on board. Having done that much, he
+went to the hotel where the Countess had stopped and told the clerk that
+he had news of importance to communicate to Madame the Countess, and
+that he wished to learn her present address. The clerk, like all Puntal,
+was ignorant of what important matters had just missed happening, but he
+had instructions from this lady to assume ignorance as to her
+destination. Blanco, however, showed the seal ring which she had said
+would prove a passport to her presence and which Benton had left with
+him. He was promptly informed that she had taken passage for
+Villefranche, and had ordered her mail forwarded there in care of the
+steamship agency.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+THE AMBASSADOR BECOMES ADMIRAL
+
+
+More suggestive of a stowaway than a millionaire, thought Blanco the
+following afternoon, when he had come over the side of the _Isis_ and
+sought out the owner of the yacht. Benton had turned hermit and
+withdrawn to the most isolated space the vessel provided. It was really
+not a deck at all--only a space between engine-room grating and
+tarpaulined lifeboats on what was properly the cabin roof. Here, removed
+from the burnished and ship-shape perfection of the yacht's appointment,
+he lay carelessly shaven and more carelessly dressed.
+
+The lazily undulating Mediterranean stretched unbroken save for the
+yacht's stack, funnels and stanchions, in a sight-wide radius of blue.
+Overhead the sky was serene. Here and there, in fitful humors, the sea
+flowed in rifts of a different hue.
+
+The sun was mellow and the breeze which purred softly in the cables
+overhead came with the caressing breath that blows off the orange groves
+of Southern Spain. Ahead lay all the invitation of the south of France;
+of the Riviera's white cities and vivid countryside; of Monte Carlo's
+casinos and Italy's villas. Beyond further horizons, waited the charm of
+Greece, but the man lay on an old army blanket, clad in bagging flannels
+and a blue army shirt open at the throat. His arms were crossed above
+his eyes, and he was motionless, except that the fingers which gripped
+his elbows sometimes clenched themselves and the bare throat above the
+open collar occasionally worked spasmodically.
+
+Blanco had come quietly, and his canvas shoes had made no sound. For a
+time he did not announce himself. He was not sure that Benton was awake,
+so he dropped noiselessly to the deck and sat with his hands clasped
+about his knees, his eyes moodily measuring the rise and fall of the
+glaringly white stanchions above and below the sky-line. At frequent
+intervals they swept back to the other man, who still lay motionless. It
+was late afternoon and the smoke-stack shadows pointed off in attenuated
+lines to the bow while the sky, off behind the wake, brightened into the
+colors of sunset. Finally Benton rose. The unexpected sight of Blanco
+brought a start and an immediate masking of his face, but in the first
+momentary glimpse the Andalusian caught a haggard distress which
+frightened him.
+
+"I didn't know you had come," said Benton quietly. "How long have you
+been here?"
+
+"I should say a half-hour, _Senor_," replied Manuel, casually rolling a
+cigarette.
+
+"Why didn't you rouse me? I'm not very amusing, but even I could have
+relieved the dullness of sitting there like a marooned man on a
+derelict."
+
+"Dullness?" inquired the _toreador_ with a lazy lift of the brows. "It
+is ease, _Senor_, and ease is desirable--at sea."
+
+The American sat cross-legged on the deck and held out his hand for a
+cigarette. When he asked a question he spoke in matter-of-fact tones. He
+even laughed, and the Andalusian chatted on in kind, but secretly and
+narrowly he was watching the other, and when he had finished his
+scrutiny he told himself that Benton had been indulging in the dangerous
+pastime of brooding.
+
+"Tell me--everything," urged the yacht-owner. "What are the
+revolutionists doing and how is--how are things?" Carefully he avoided
+directing any question to the point on which his eagerness for news was
+poignant hunger.
+
+When Blanco told how Louis had left Galavia just before the soldiers
+reached the lodge, Benton's face darkened. "That was fatal blundering,"
+he complained. "So long as Delgado is at large the Palace is menaced.
+If they had taken him, and held him under surveillance, the _Cabinet
+Noir_ would be disarmed. Now they will try again."
+
+Blanco nodded.
+
+"There is no charge they can make against him," he mused. "They cannot
+bring him back because the government cannot admit its peril. Outwardly
+his bill of health is clean. Assuredly when they let him slip, _Senor_,
+they committed a grave error."
+
+Benton rose and paced the deck in deep reflection. At last he halted and
+spread his hands in a gesture half-despairing.
+
+"My God!" he said in a low voice. "The anxiety will drive me mad! You
+saw their methods. An entire cortege was to be blown into the air--just
+to kill Karyl. Next time, what will they attempt?" He broke off with a
+shudder.
+
+"I have seen the Queen," said Blanco slowly.
+
+Benton wheeled. For an instant his face lighted, then he leaned forward.
+He said nothing, but his whole attitude was a question.
+
+"You behold in me, Sir Manuel Blanco," began the Andalusian grandly.
+Then, slipping his arm through that of the other man, he began leading
+him around the deck. When he had finished his narrative, he said: "I
+begin my office as Ambassador by delivering this packet." From his
+pocket he produced the paper-wrapped rose. "I was instructed to give it
+to you at some future time. Possibly, _Senor_, I am over-prompt. Lawyers
+and diplomats should be deliberate."
+
+The Mediterranean day had died slowly from east to west while the men
+had talked, and the last shred of glowing sky was darkening into the sea
+at the edge of the world astern, when Benton greedily thrust out his
+hand for the packet.
+
+"_Gracias_," he said bluntly, and turning away went precipitously to his
+cabin.
+
+After dinner, when the Captain had betaken himself to the bridge and the
+smoke from the Spaniard's cigarettes and Benton's pipe had begun to
+wreathe clouds against the ceiling-beams, Blanco broached his diplomacy.
+
+In the dulled expressionlessness of the face opposite him and the stoop
+of the shoulders, Manuel read a need for an active antidote against the
+corrosive poison of despair.
+
+"Where are we going now, _Senor_?"
+
+Benton shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"'_Quien sabe!_' as you say in Spain. We are simply cruising, drifting,
+keeping out of sight of land."
+
+"And drifting is the precise thing, _Senor_, which we must not do. I
+have hitherto done without question what you have said. Now I hold a
+new dignity." There was a momentary flash of teeth as he smiled. "As
+Ambassador, I make a request. May I be permitted to take entire control
+of affairs for a brief time? Also, will you for a few days obey _my_
+instructions, without question?"
+
+Benton looked across the table at the dark face half-obscured behind a
+blue fog of cigarette smoke. After a moment he smiled.
+
+"Admiral," he said, "issue your orders."
+
+"You will instruct the Captain," said Manuel promptly, "to head at once
+for Villefranche. There you, _Senor_, will leave the yacht, and I will
+go with it to Monte Carlo. I wish to be as soon as possible in the
+casino where the drone of the _croupier_ and the clink of outflowing
+_louis d'or_ constitute the national refrain."
+
+Benton's eyes narrowed in perplexity. On his face was written curiosity,
+but he had agreed to ask no questions. He unhesitatingly put his finger
+on the electric bell.
+
+"Ask the Captain to come here as soon as he is at leisure," he directed
+when the steward had responded to the call.
+
+"Good," commended Blanco. Then with a sorrowful shake of his head he
+commiserated: "I am sorry that you are to be denied the excitement of
+the _rouge et noir_ and the _trente et quarente_ of the gold table,
+_Senor_, but if the Countess Astaride and Louis should meet there, the
+lady would know you. I fancy that she will not again mistake you for
+someone else. As for myself, neither of them yet knows me."
+
+"Are they at Monte Carlo?" Benton sat suddenly upright, and Blanco had
+the first reward of his diplomacy, as he noted the quickening interest
+in the questioning eyes.
+
+"I am only guessing, _Senor_. If the guess is good, I may learn
+something. What is in my mind, may fail. If you are willing to trust me
+I would rather not reveal it now."
+
+"And I?" questioned Benton. "Have I any part to play in this, or do you
+go it alone?"
+
+Blanco leaned forward.
+
+"It may be necessary to have someone near enough to the Palace in Puntal
+to insure immediate action--action to be taken on the instant.... You
+must return to the city, _Senor_.... It will be for only a few days. The
+Grand Palace Hotel is above the town in large gardens.... If you choose
+you can remain there with your presence absolutely unknown, so far as
+the city proper is concerned. Also, the Marconi office has a station in
+the hotel grounds. With a code which we have yet to arrange, I can keep
+in touch with you...."
+
+The next day Benton was a passenger by steamer from Villefranche to
+Puntal.
+
+The Grand Palace Hotel, dominating its own acres of subtropical gardens,
+looks down on the city as one seated on an eminence commands the common
+things at his feet. Between its grounds and the scalloped bay, run the
+huddled habitations of the town's water-front, with its delicately
+tinted walls and riotously colored gardens invading every crevice.
+
+Following the semicircle of the bay, the eye commands that other
+eminence where the King's Palace shuts itself in austerely at the very
+center of the arc. Through the clustered, tea-sipping loungers on the
+galleries and terraces Benton made his way several days later, wearing
+the studiously affected unconcern of the tourist; an unconcern which he
+found it desperately difficult to assume in Puntal.
+
+Driven by a growing and intense desire to put distance between himself
+and all alien humanity, he turned into a narrow, steeply climbing street
+which ran twisting between toy-houses and vine-cumbered garden-walls,
+until at last it lost its right to be called a street and became merely
+a narrow, trail-like path up the mountain-side. The wanderer climbed
+interminably. He took no thought of destination and satisfied himself
+with the physical exertion of the laborious going.
+
+His heart pounded faster as he attained the altitude of the pine woods
+where he seemed to have left humanity behind him. Once or twice he saw a
+shy, half-wild child who fled from its task of gathering fagots at his
+approach, to gaze at him out of startled eyes from a safe distance.
+
+Occasionally he would stop to look down, from some coign of vantage, at
+cascading threads of water tumbling into the gorge below, or at a
+chalet-like house perched far beneath in its trim patch of agriculture.
+Finally he stretched himself indolently on a carpet of pine needles at
+the brink of a drop to the valley. Then, with a sense of recognition, he
+saw the tumbled-down gate of the King's driveway below him to the left,
+and his face became set and miserable as memory began its work of
+tearing open wounds not yet old.
+
+Suddenly there drifted up a chorus of children's laughter. He sat up
+suddenly and looked about, but no one was in sight. Again he heard an
+unmistakable peal of shrill, childish merriment, seemingly close at
+hand. He lay flat and looked over the ledge, holding on to a root of a
+gnarled pine that grew far out at the marge.
+
+Under him, not more than twenty yards below, on a similar natural
+platform, sat a circle of peasant children, their eyes large with
+wonderment and interest. In their center, also seated on the earth, was
+the Queen of Galavia. She was dressed in a short walking skirt and a
+blue jersey, and as the man gripped the pine root to which he held, and
+gazed over, she lifted an outstretched finger of a gauntleted hand in
+illustration of some particularly wonderful point of what was palpably a
+particularly wonderful fairy story. A third burst of delight came from
+the listening and responsive auditors, who had no idea by whom they were
+being entertained.
+
+The peasants of Galavia speak Portuguese. As Benton shifted his position
+so that he could eavesdrop without being discovered, he found that he
+could catch some of the words.
+
+"Tell us another story--" piped a high treble voice, "--a story about
+the beautiful Princess who married the King." The demand was seconded by
+an immediate clamor of eager voices.
+
+The girl rose unsteadily and shook her head. For a moment she stood
+looking off over the miles of sea with her hands at her breast and her
+eyes clouded, oblivious of the small companions of her truancy. She
+stretched out both strong young arms toward the Mediterranean.
+
+Then she heeded the children's clamor again and, turning to them, she
+laughed.
+
+"No, no!" she teasingly answered, and the man above realized for the
+first time that Portuguese is a tongue of liquid music. "These are fairy
+stories without Princesses. These are perfectly good fairy stories, you
+know." Then with a sudden burst of confidence, "In really-truly life,
+Princesses are not much good. Don't any of you ever be a Princess if you
+can help it!" After planting this seed of treasonable ideas she turned
+away, adding: "No, no, no! I've run away and I must go back. To-morrow
+we will have a wonderful story--but no more to-day."
+
+Slowly she made her way down to the old gate, stopping twice to look out
+to the sea, and above her, choking off the shout that clamored at his
+lips, the man sat motionless and gave no intimation of his presence.
+
+Finally he rose and made his way unsteadily back to the city. He walked
+slowly down between the wine-shops, noisy with laughter, to the road
+along the bay. Immersed in reflection and forgetful of his resolution to
+keep as much as possible out of sight, he went openly and conspicuously
+along the street that overhangs the water, where at sunset all Puntal
+promenades. It was only when a detachment of soldiers in the familiar
+opera-bouffe uniform went clanking by to change the guard at the Palace
+gates that he remembered he was to have remained inconspicuous. With a
+sense of chagrin for his indiscretion, he turned into a side street
+which sloped upward toward his hotel. This street was so little used
+that between its cobble stones tender sprigs of grass made the way as
+green as a turf course.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+BENTON CALLS ON THE KING
+
+
+There were several things to harrow Benton's thoughts aside from the
+ingenious tortures of memory. Blanco should have arrived at Monte Carlo
+on the day of their separation. Benton himself had proceeded slowly to
+Puntal and had now been an isolated guest at the Grand Palace Hotel for
+two days, yet he had heard nothing from Manuel. Still the man from Cadiz
+had not been idly cruising. The _Isis_ had duly dropped her anchor in
+the ultramarine waters where the rock of Monaco juts out like a
+beckoning finger, and Monte Carlo spreads the marble display of its
+rococo facades at the feet of the Maritime Alps.
+
+That night, in the most detailed perfection of evening dress, he
+wandered good-humoredly, yet aloof, through the crowds. He haunted the
+groups that swarmed about the busy wheels in the casino. He mingled with
+the diners upon the terraces of the principal hotels. He brushed elbows
+with the strollers along the promenade and about the _Cercle des
+Etrangers_, and all the while his studiously alert eyes wandered with
+seeming vacancy of expression over the faces of the men and women whom
+he passed.
+
+Safe in the surety of being himself unknown, he trained his countenance
+into the ennui of one who has no object beyond killing the hour and
+contributing his quota to the income of the syndicate.
+
+The evening was wasted, together with a few _louis_, and the next
+morning found the Spaniard scrutinizing every face along the _Promenade
+des Anglais_ at Nice. Then he searched Cannes and Mentone, but by
+evening he was back again in the sacred City of Black and Red.
+
+As he disembarked from the yacht's launch and came up the white stairs
+to the landing-stage, his eyes were still indolently wandering, but
+before he reached the level of the _Boulevard de la Condamine_, the
+expression changed with the suddenness of discovery into a glint almost
+triumphant. It was only with strong effort that he banished the
+satisfied light from his pupils and forced them to wander absently
+again, along the glitter and color of the palm-lined promenade.
+
+For Manuel had seen a slender, well-groomed figure leaning on the coping
+of the sea-wall and gazing out with obvious amusement on the life of the
+harbor. Although the Spaniard did not allow himself a second glance, he
+knew that his search was ended. The attention of the man above was
+dreamily fixed on the bay where a dozen darting motor-boats cut swift
+courses hither and thither. His attitude was graceful. His bearing might
+have been almost noble except for a deplorable lack of frankness which
+spoiled otherwise fine eyes, and a self-indulgent weakness which marred
+the angle of the chin.
+
+The Bay at Monte Carlo is a haven for luxurious craft. Now the Prince of
+Monaco's yacht lay at anchor and several others, hardly less handsome,
+rode snugly offshore, but with the enthusiasm of a connoisseur the tall
+gentleman disregarded all the rest and let his admiring gaze dwell on
+the _Isis_.
+
+The face was studiously altered. Where there had been a full mustache
+there was now only a thinly clipped line, waxed and uptilting in needle
+points. It had been dark brown. Now it was black. The hair formerly
+brushed straight back from the forehead now showed beneath the hat-band.
+The Van Dyke which had masked the receding tendency of the chin was
+shaven away. Evidently the gentleman wished to present a changed
+appearance to the world, but the visionary eyes were unmistakably those
+of Louis, the Dreamer, and in lapses of thought the fingers of the right
+hand nervously twisted and untwisted, after the manner of an old
+personal trick.
+
+As Blanco came up the stairs he brushed clumsily against the stranger
+and paused to apologize.
+
+"I am inexcusably awkward," he avowed with engaging contriteness.
+
+The Duke protested that it was not worth mention, and added with a
+smile, "I noticed that you came from that yacht. I think she is one of
+the most beautiful little vessels I have ever seen."
+
+"Thank you, Monsieur." Blanco was apparently much flattered. "She is
+American built, and has some appointments which I have not seen
+elsewhere." Then smilingly, but in hot haste, he rushed away.
+
+During the course of the evening the Andalusian contrived to throw
+himself repeatedly across the Duke's path. On each occasion he appeared
+to be in great haste and under the necessity of immediate departure,
+though he never left without a cordial word of recognition. He played
+his game so adroitly that at the end of the evening the Duke felt as
+though he and the stranger from the American-built yacht were old and
+pleasant acquaintances.
+
+It was as they stood watching the stiffer gambling of the elect in the
+upper room of the Casino, after the wheels below had ceased to spin,
+that the tall gentleman turned to Blanco.
+
+"How do you say? Would a cup of coffee or a glass of wine go amiss?"
+
+Without a trace of eagerness, the Andalusian assented and a few minutes
+later he found himself across a cafe table at the Nouvel Hotel de
+Paris; listening to Louis, the Dreamer's soft voice, and watching the
+slender fingers which nervously toyed with a Sevres cup.
+
+"She is extremely beautiful in her lines," Louis was declaring. "I am
+fond of yachts that are properly built. I am planning one myself, and
+each new vessel holds for me a fresh interest."
+
+"Ah, indeed!" The Spaniard was delighted. "Then we have fallen upon a
+common enthusiasm. I am never so happy as when talking to a keen
+yachtsman." Yet so long as the conversation threatened those nautical
+technicalities in which he was utterly deficient, he managed to let the
+other do the talking.
+
+Manuel at last set down his cup and, looking up with a flash, as of
+sudden inspiration, suggested: "But doubtless you will be stopping in
+Monte Carlo a day or two? Possibly you will do me the honor of
+inspecting the boat?"
+
+The other protested that his friend was too good. He regarded himself
+highly honored. He would be most charmed. But apparently the idea was
+developing and Blanco was conceiving even more extended notions of
+hospitality.
+
+"Stay!" he suddenly exclaimed. "Why not breakfast with me, on board,
+to-morrow at twelve? The launch will be at the landing at eleven
+forty-five. I could take you cruising for a few knots, and let you test
+her sailing qualities, returning in abundant time for dinner and the
+amusements of the evening."
+
+Louis gave the matter a moment's reflection, then declared that the
+programme was delightful. He would not be engaged until the evening.
+
+Blanco laughed uproariously. "It is most amusing," he declared. "I have
+had supper with you--you are to breakfast with me, and I have not yet
+told you my name!" He was searching for a card-case, which seemingly he
+had misplaced. "I cannot find a card. No matter, my name is Sir Manuel
+Blanco."
+
+The Duke smiled as he rose from the table and took up hat and cane. "I
+was equally forgetful," he said. "My name is Monsieur Breuillard."
+
+The following day had advanced well into the afternoon, and Monsieur
+Breuillard had punctuated with graceful compliment each point of
+excellence in the equipment of the _Isis_, when Blanco led the way into
+the small smoking saloon.
+
+"Sailing qualities may not have been fairly tested," admitted Sir
+Manuel, "since the sea was serene, the sky brilliant, and the breeze
+insufficient to ruffle the water."
+
+"The more charming, Monsieur!" exclaimed the guest, whose mood after a
+pleasing day was mellow and complacent.
+
+Blanco waved Monsieur Breuillard to an easy chair and pointed out
+cigars. As chance would have it, he stood before the door, which he had
+just closed.
+
+"By the way--Your Grace--" He broke off abruptly to mark the effect of
+the title on the other man. Evidently he found it highly pleasing for he
+smiled as the Dreamer winced and came violently to his feet, pale and
+rigid, but as yet too astounded for speech.
+
+"I did not tell you, did I," went on the Spaniard, "that I have been Sir
+Manuel Blanco only a few days, and that the title was conferred on me by
+your royal kinsman, Karyl of Galavia, for a trifling service in
+confounding his enemies? Before that I was a _matador_ in Andalusia."
+
+Delgado stood petrified, his features livid and his eyes blazing with
+rage. An instinct warned him that to surrender to passion would be only
+to trap himself more deeply. The man blocking the door filled its
+breadth with his strong shoulders. Louis turned his head and his eyes
+caught through the open porthole a glimpse of the receding shore-line of
+the Riviera. Blanco followed the glance and smiled.
+
+"We shall be losing shore in a short time," he calmly announced. "May I
+have the honor of showing Your Grace to your stateroom?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the next evening Benton emerged from his rooms at the Grand Palace
+Hotel in Puntal, and threading his way through the loungers on the
+galleries, sought out a remote corner of the garden, where, under a
+blossom-freighted vine, he could hear the surge of the sea, and, in a
+tempered softness, the Viennese waltz of the hotel band. Under him the
+harbor mirrored lights along the shore and those of ships at anchor. At
+a distance the windows of the Palace could be seen.
+
+"I beg your pardon--"
+
+Benton recognized the coldly modulated voice before he glanced up at the
+cloaked figure.
+
+"Colonel Von Ritz," he said, "I am honored."
+
+Von Ritz bowed.
+
+"His Majesty requests that you will do him the honor of coming to the
+Palace with me--now."
+
+Despite the form of request in which the summons was couched, Von Ritz
+clothed it in a coldness that brought to Benton's mind the implacable
+politeness of an arrest. At the hint he stiffened.
+
+"If His Majesty requests my presence," he replied with some shortness,
+"it will be a pleasure to present myself at once. If--" he paused and
+looked at the stiffly erect figure before him, "if the peremptory tone
+you assume is a part of your instruction, I must remind you that I am an
+American citizen, entirely free to accept or decline invitations--even
+when they come from the Palace."
+
+Von Ritz replied with unruffled gravity.
+
+"If it will add to your sense of security, Mr. Benton, I shall be
+pleased to drive you to your Legation and to have your government's
+representative accompany us."
+
+Benton flushed. "I was not speaking from any sense of personal
+insecurity," he explained. "But I wished you to understand the manner in
+which I prefer to be approached."
+
+The Colonel waited with perfect courtesy for the American to finish,
+then he went on in the same distantly polite tone and manner. "I had not
+quite finished delivering my message when you--when you began to speak.
+His Majesty instructs me to say that if you will accompany me to the
+Palace he will regard it as a courtesy and will be grateful. He commands
+me to add that he does not send this message officially or as coming
+from the Court. It is simply that the Count Pagratide wishes to see you
+and that it is obviously impossible for His Majesty--for the Count
+Pagratide--to call on you here."
+
+Benton was irritated with himself for his display of temper, and more
+irritated with Von Ritz for his calm superiority of manner. His murmured
+apology was offered with no very good grace as he turned to follow the
+other's lead. Opposite the hotel entrance he stopped.
+
+"Colonel," he said, "I have been awaiting news from Manuel Blanco. He
+may send a message or come himself, and if so it may be vital for him to
+establish instant communication with me."
+
+"Certainly," agreed Von Ritz. "I would suggest that you introduce my
+aide, who may be trusted, at the hotel and that he be instructed to
+bring you any message. By that means, _Senor_ Blanco, or his news, can
+follow you directly to the Palace--and it does not become necessary to
+take others into your confidence."
+
+The same young Captain who had summoned Blanco in the Casino was left to
+act as messenger and Benton, following the officer through a side gate
+and into a side street, stepped into a closed carriage.
+
+"I had not supposed that the Palace knew of my presence in Puntal,"
+commented the American as he took his seat opposite the Colonel of
+Cavalry.
+
+"You were seen on the promenade. It was reported from several sources,"
+Von Ritz made answer. "Also," he added as an afterthought, "we knew of
+your arrival two hours after you reached Puntal. You registered at the
+hotel under your own name."
+
+"Does the Queen also know of my presence?" asked Benton.
+
+"No," was the brief reply.
+
+For the remainder of the drive conversation died. The two men sat mutely
+opposite each other as the carriage jolted over the cobble-stoned
+streets, until the driver turned into the castle gates.
+
+Then Von Ritz again leaned forward.
+
+"Mr. Benton," he explained, "it happens that this evening a ball is
+being given at the Palace for the members of the Diplomatic Corps. His
+Majesty, supposing that you would desire a quiet reception, instructed
+me to take you to the gardens of his private suite where he will shortly
+join you; unless," added Von Ritz courteously, "you prefer the
+Throne-room and dancing _salles_?"
+
+Benton's reply was prompt.
+
+"I believe I am to see the Count Pagratide," he answered. "I am grateful
+to the Count for arranging that I might be secluded."
+
+Blanco had gone into some detail in describing the chamber where he had
+met the King, and later the Queen. Benton now recognized the place to
+which he was conducted, from that description. As before, the room was
+empty and the portieres of the wide windows were partly drawn. Through
+the opening he could see the small area perching on a space redeemed
+from the solid rock. Dark masses against the sky marked the palms of the
+garden, and through the window drifted the splashing of a fountain
+mingled with the distant strains of the same Viennese waltz that the
+hotel band had been playing. That year you might have heard it from the
+Golden Gate to Suez and back again from Suez to the Golden Gate.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+IN WHICH THE SPHINX BREAKS SILENCE
+
+
+Left alone, Benton spent ten minutes in the room, then passed through
+the window to the balcony and went down into the miniature garden. His
+face was hot and his pulses heightened. The garden was gratefully cool
+and quiet.
+
+From the window, through which he had come, a broad shaft of tempered
+luminance fell across the fountain and laid a zone of soft light athwart
+the low stone benches surrounding it. Then it caught, and faintly edged
+with its glow, the granite balustrade at the shoulder of the cliff.
+Elsewhere the little garden was enveloped in the velvet blackness of the
+night, against which the points of town and harbor lights, far below,
+were splinters of emerald and ruby. The moon would not rise until late.
+
+The American strolled over to the shaded margin which was unspoiled by
+the light. He brushed back the hair from his forehead and let the sea
+breeze play on his face.
+
+Finally a light sound behind him called his attention inward. The King
+and Von Ritz stood together in the doorway. Both were in dress uniform.
+Karyl, even at the side of the soldierly Von Ritz, was striking in the
+white and silver of Galavia's commanding general. Across his breast
+glinted the decorations of all the orders to which Royalty entitled him.
+
+The King, with a deep breath not unlike a sigh, came forward to the
+fountain. There he halted with one booted foot on the margin of the
+basin and his white-gauntleted hands clasped at his back. He had not yet
+seen Benton, who now stepped out of the shadow to present himself. As he
+came into view Karyl raised his eyes and nodded with a smile.
+
+"Ah, Benton," he said, "so you came! Thank you."
+
+The American bowed. He wished to observe every proper amenity of Court
+etiquette. He was still chagrined by the memory of his rudeness to Von
+Ritz, yet he was determined that if Karyl had sent for him as the Count
+Pagratide, he must receive him on equal terms and without ceremony.
+
+"Certainly," he replied. Then with a short laugh he added: "I have never
+before been received by a crowned head. If my etiquette proves faulty,
+you must score it against my ignorance--not my intention."
+
+"I sent for you," said Karyl slowly, as the eyes of the two men met in
+full directness, "and you were good enough to come. I am a crowned
+head--yes--that is my damned ill-fortune. Let us, for God's sake, in so
+far as we may, forget that! Benton, back there--" his voice suddenly
+rose and took on a passionate tremor as he lifted one gauntleted hand in
+a sweep toward the west--"back there in your country, where you were a
+grandee of finance and I an impecunious foreigner, there was no ceremony
+between us. If we can forget this livery"--Karyl savagely struck his
+breast--"if you will try to forget that you are looking at a toy King,
+fancifully trimmed from head to heel in braid and medals--then perhaps
+we can talk!"
+
+"Your Majesty--" demurred Von Ritz in a tone of deep protest.
+
+The King swept his arm back as one who brushes an unimportant intruder
+into the background.
+
+"And we must talk," went on Karyl vehemently, "as two men, not as one
+man and a puppet."
+
+The American stood looking on at the violence of the King's outburst
+with a sense of deep sympathy. Again the Colonel stepped forward with an
+interposed objection.
+
+"If I may suggest--" he began in an emotionless inflection which fell in
+startling contrast with the surcharged vehemence of the other. Then he
+halted in the midst of his sentence as Karyl wheeled passionately to
+face him.
+
+"My God, Colonel!" cried the King. "There is not a debt of gratitude in
+life that I do not owe to you--I and my house! I am crushed under my
+obligations to you. You have been our strength, our one loyal support,
+and yet there are times when you madden me!" The officer stood waiting,
+respectful, impersonal, until the flood of words should subside, but for
+a while Karyl swept agitatedly on.
+
+"You wear a sword, Von Ritz, which any monarch in Europe would hire at
+your own price. Any government would let you name what titles and honors
+you wished in payment--"
+
+"Your Majesty!"
+
+"Forgive me, I know your sword is not for sale. I mean no such
+intimation. I mean only that it has a value. I mean you are a man, and
+the game to you is the large one of statecraft. It is really you who
+rule this Kingdom. Ah, yes, you remonstrate, but I tell you it is true,
+and the damnable shame is that it is not a Kingdom worthy of your
+genius! You, Von Ritz, are the engine, the motive force--but I--in God's
+holy name, what am I?"
+
+He raised his hands questioningly, appealingly.
+
+"You," replied the older soldier calmly, "are the King."
+
+"Yes," Karyl caught up the words almost before they had fallen from the
+lips of the other. "Yes, I am the King. I am the miserable, gilded
+figurehead out on the prow, which serves no end and no purpose. I am
+the ornamental symbol of a system which the world is discarding! I am a
+medieval lay figure upon which to hang these tinsel decorations, these
+ribbons!"
+
+"Your Majesty is excited."
+
+"No, by God, I am only heartbroken--and I am through!" The King's hands
+dropped at his sides. The passion died out of his voice and eyes,
+leaving them those of a man who is very tired. For a moment there was
+silence. It was broken by the American.
+
+"Pagratide," he asked, "why did you send for me?"
+
+The King stood rigid with the illuminating shaft from the door touching
+into high-lights the polish of his boots and the burnish of his
+accouterments. Finally he turned and in a voice now deadly quiet
+countered with another question.
+
+"Benton, why did you save me?"
+
+The American answered with quiet candor.
+
+"I went into it," he said, "because I feared the danger might threaten
+Cara. Once in, only a murderer could have turned back."
+
+"So I thought." Karyl nodded his head, then he turned and paced
+restively up and down the path between the fountain and the balcony. At
+last he halted fronting the American.
+
+"I wish to God, Benton, you had let that traitor Lapas and his
+constituents touch their damned button. I wish to God you had let them
+lift me, amid the stones of _do Freres_, into eternity! But that wish is
+uncharitable to Von Ritz and the others who must have gone with me." The
+King broke off with a short laugh. "After all," he added, "of course, as
+you say, you couldn't do it."
+
+Benton shook his head. "No," he said, "I couldn't do it."
+
+Again Karyl paced back and forth, and again he stopped, facing the
+American.
+
+"Benton, it is hard for two men to talk in this fashion. Perhaps no two
+other men ever did. I find myself a jailer to the woman I love--Oh, yes,
+I am also imprisoned by Royalty but that does not alter matters." The
+voice shook. The gauntleted hands were tightly gripped, but the speaker
+went steadily on. "And you love her!"
+
+For an instant Benton looked at the other, hesitant. Then realizing the
+unquestionable sincerity with which the King spoke, he answered with
+equal frankness.
+
+"Pagratide--over there--I thought I could enter Paradise. I did look
+into Paradise. Then I had to set my face back again to the desert--and
+in the desert one has only memory and hunger and thirst."
+
+"Yours is hunger and thirst--yes!" exclaimed the King of Galavia. "But
+mine is the hunger and thirst of Tantalus."
+
+There was a low pained exclamation from the balcony and both men wheeled
+in recognition of the voice and the shadow that divided the band of
+light in the doorway.
+
+The Queen stood on the low sill and though her head and figure were only
+sketched in shade against the tempered luminance at her back her
+exclamation told them that she had heard. She stood in the unbroken
+sweep of her Court gown. Her slim hands gripped the ermine which fell
+from her shoulders to the floor and slowly crushed it between clenched
+fingers. About her head the light touched her hair into a soft nimbus.
+
+Karyl stepped impetuously forward and held out his hand to lead her into
+the garden. Benton, who had involuntarily started toward the balcony at
+the first sight of her, caught his lip in his teeth and halted where he
+stood.
+
+The girl remained for a moment, astonished at the sight of the two men,
+incredulous of what she had heard.
+
+She had slipped away for a moment of respite from the fatiguing
+requirements of the ball-room. She had come here because she had felt
+sure that here she could be alone. She had come, driven by the prompting
+of her heart, to look out to the Mediterranean and wonder where, between
+its gates at Gibraltar and Suez, Benton might at that moment be. And
+from the balcony she had seen him in the garden and had heard a part of
+this talk before the spell of her astounded muteness broke into
+exclamation.
+
+"You heard what we were saying." Karyl spoke gently, deferentially. "And
+it seemed to you incredible that we should be confidential on such a
+subject. It would be so, except that we are both seeking the same
+end--your service--" he paused, then added miserably--"and your
+happiness."
+
+She listened in wonderment as she held out her hand to Benton and
+watched trance-like his lowered head as he bent his lips to her fingers.
+
+"Cara!" Karyl had stepped back and was leaning over, his elbows resting
+on the stone back of one of the low benches. His fingers tightly grasped
+the carved ornaments at its top. His words were carefully chosen and
+measuredly spoken. He knew that if he permitted one expression to escape
+him unguardedly, with it would slip away the command by which he was
+curbing mutinous emotions.
+
+"Cara, I happened to be born a Prince, who should one day develop into a
+King. It chanced that Nature had a sense of humor--so Nature paid me a
+droll compliment. She gave me a futile ambition to be a man--me, whom
+she had decided was to be only a King!"
+
+The group stood silent and attentive in a strained tableau, except for
+Von Ritz, who paced back and forth just beyond the fountain, as though
+respectfully repudiating the whole unseemly episode.
+
+"Then I fell in love with you," went on the King of Galavia. "You
+married me--because State reasons demanded it. I could not win your
+love--he did!" He turned toward Benton, and his voice, though it held
+its slow control, was bitter.
+
+"Benton, do you fancy this puny game amuses me? Do I not know that you
+could buy a principality like this for a souvenir of Europe if it
+happened to please you? The one time I have been allowed to feel a man
+was in your country, where we met as equal rivals.... No, not equal even
+then, because you were the winner, I the loser."
+
+"Karyl," the Queen spoke in a low voice, "I can give you loyalty,
+admiration, respect and my life to use as you see fit to use it. I give
+as freely as I can. My love I do not refuse--it is just ... just that it
+is not mine to give." She spoke with unutterable weariness. "I seem to
+bring only sorrow to those who love me."
+
+"You can give me all but love," Karyl repeated very softly, leaning
+forward toward her, "and love is all there is! Without it I take all
+else you give me as a thief takes, without right. If being a King means
+being your jailer, then I am done with being a King!"
+
+"Your Majesty," cut in Von Ritz sharply, "it is time to terminate this
+talk. It has no end. It is aimless argument which comes only back to the
+starting point."
+
+The King wheeled and met the eyes of his adviser. The studied
+self-control he had maintained since Cara's arrival slipped from him and
+his voice broke out explosively.
+
+"It has an end!" he cried. "I will show you the end. If I cannot build
+empire I can do something else, I can throw this damnable little Kingdom
+down into the chaos it deserves!... I can abdicate to my cousin, Louis
+Delgado, who wants the throne I don't want!... I can stamp on this
+tinseled trumpery.... I can break jail!" He turned with an impassioned
+out-sweeping of his hands. Coming swiftly from behind the bench, he
+halted tensely before Benton and leaned defiantly forward. "Then I can
+free her--and by God I shall fight you for her on equal terms, inch by
+inch, not holding her in duress, but fighting for her free consent. She
+has been trapped by Fate into marrying me and at heart she rebels. I
+shall set her free and then by God I will win her back!"
+
+Von Ritz had stood by as the King rushed on in climax after climax of
+heated words. Now he took one swift stride forward. From his quiet face
+had fallen every trace of impassiveness. When he spoke his voice
+trembled with the irresistible eloquence of power and fire.
+
+"My God, boy!" He seized Karyl by his shoulders and wheeled him so that
+they stood face to face. There was in his manner nothing of deference,
+nothing of the subordinate. Now he stood transformed, the man of action;
+the dominant, compelling force before whom littler men must wither. This
+was no longer Von Ritz the emotionless. It was Von Ritz the King-maker,
+burning with vitalizing passion.
+
+"My God, boy, are you mad? Do you think other men have never loved and
+sacrificed themselves for duty--kept unuttered, locked in their hearts,
+things they were hungry to say?... Do you think that your hard task of
+Kingship is yours to play with--to desert?... Why, boy, I've taught you
+your manual of arms, I've drilled you, trained you, watched you grow
+from childhood. My heart has beaten with joy because you were free of
+every degenerate trace that has marked and scarred Europe's cancerous
+Royalty! I've seen you come clean-hearted, straight-minded into
+man-hood; prepared you to show the world what a Kingdom can be with a
+clean King--a strong King! I've fitted you to bear a burden which only a
+man could bear--to remind the world that 'King' means the Man Who
+Can--and I thought you could do it!" He paused only to draw a long
+breath, then hastened on again. "Yes, your task is thankless. Your
+Principality is small, but it is a keystone in Europe's arch. It is such
+Princelings as you who must send clean blood down to the thrones of
+to-morrow.... Is that not enough?... Have I built a King, day by day,
+year by year, idea by idea, only to see him wither and crumple under the
+first blast? Go on with your task, in God's name! Probably they will
+murder you ... assassination may at the end be your reward, but only the
+coward fears the outcome! For God's sake, Karyl, don't desert me under
+fire!"
+
+He paused with a gesture eloquent of appeal. When next he spoke his
+voice was slow, deliberate.
+
+"And the other picture! The cafe tables of Paris are crowded with
+Royalty that has been; with the miserable children of conquered and
+abdicated Kings!"
+
+The King dropped exhaustedly to the bench, his fore-arms on his knees,
+his gloved fingers hanging limp. After a moment he rose again and went
+to Cara.
+
+"I want to fight for you," he said simply. "I want to free you
+first--then fight for you."
+
+"Karyl," she answered gently, "if you do _this_, you will enslave my
+soul, and my imprisonment will be only harder. You will make me a
+wrecker of governments--a traitor to my duty."
+
+The King turned and looked out to sea.
+
+"I must think," he said in a tired voice. "Perhaps it is only a matter
+of time. Delgado is free. Perhaps I shall not have to present him with
+my throne. Conceivably he may come and take it."
+
+Von Ritz approached again and took Karyl's hand. To him a King was, at
+last analysis, only the best product of the King-maker's craft. He was a
+King-maker--before him stood a tired boy whom he loved.
+
+"You will fight," he said, "and you will fight with hell's fury. The
+first step will be to recapture this Pretender. With him in hand--"
+
+"Which is in itself impossible," retorted Karyl.
+
+At the window appeared the young Captain who had been left at the hotel.
+His hand was at his forehead in salute. Von Ritz went to meet him and in
+a moment returned for Benton. Together the two men went out. Five
+minutes later they had come again into the garden. With them came Manuel
+Blanco.
+
+The bull fighter paused to bow low to the Queen, then to the King. At
+last he spoke with some diffidence.
+
+"I have taken the very great liberty," he said, "of making the Duke
+Louis Delgado an enforced guest on the yacht--where he awaits Your
+Majesty's pleasure."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+THE JACKAL TAKES THE TRAIL
+
+
+"When the Duke avowed himself to be kidnaped, he committed an error so
+grave that it can hardly be--overestimated." The speaker used the last
+word as an afterthought. His first inclination was to say, forgiven.
+
+Monsieur Jusseret sat upright in the brougham, scorning the supporting
+cushions at his back. His small, shrewd eyes frowned his deep
+disapproval over the roofs of Algiers outspread below him. He scowled on
+the gaudy and tatterdemalion color of the native city. He scowled on the
+smart brilliancy of the French quarter basking along the _Place du
+Government_ and the _Boulevard de la Republique_.
+
+The Countess Astaride leaned back and smiled from the depths of the
+cushions.
+
+"It is usually a mistake to be made a prisoner," she smiled.
+
+"But such a foolish mistake," quarreled Jusseret. "To permit oneself to
+be lured into so palpable a trap. It is most absurd."
+
+"Now that it is done," inquired the woman, "is it not almost as absurd
+to waste time deploring the spilled milk? We must find a way to set him
+free."
+
+"I have done all that could be done. I have stationed men whom I can
+trust throughout Puntal and Galavia. They are men Karyl likewise thinks
+he can trust. The distinction is that I know--where he merely thinks."
+
+"And these men--what have they done?" The Countess laid one gloved hand
+eagerly on the Frenchman's coat-sleeve.
+
+"These men have gradually and quietly reorganized the army, the
+bureaucracy, the very palace Guard. We have undermined the government's
+power, until when the word is passed to strike the blow, a honey-combed
+system will crumble under its own weight. When Karyl calls on his
+troops, not one man will respond. Well--" Jusseret smiled
+dryly--"perhaps I overstate the case. Possibly one man will. I think we
+will hardly convert Von Ritz."
+
+"Ah, that is good news, Monsieur." The Countess breathed the words with
+a tremor of enthusiasm.
+
+"It is, however, all useless, Madame--since His Grace is unavailable. In
+captivity he is absolutely valueless."
+
+"In captivity he has a stronger claim upon our loyalty than in power!"
+
+The dark-room diplomat regarded her with a disappointed smile.
+
+"For a clever woman, _Comptesse_, who has heretofore played the game so
+brilliantly, you have grown singularly unobservant. I am not a crusader,
+liberating captive Christian knights. I am France's servant, playing a
+somewhat guileful game which is as ancient as Ulysses, and subject to
+certain definite rules."
+
+"Yes, but--"
+
+"But, my dear lady, this revolution I have planted--nourished and
+cultivated to ripeness--I cannot harvest it. Outside Europe must not
+appear interested in this matter. If the Galavian people led by a member
+of the Galavian Royal House revolts! _Bien!_ More than
+_bien_--excellent!" Jusseret spread his palms. "But unless there is a
+leader, there can be no revolution. No, no, Louis should have kept out
+of custody."
+
+The Countess leaned forward with sudden eagerness.
+
+"And if I free him? If I devise a way?"
+
+The Frenchman turned quickly from contemplation of the landscape to her
+face.
+
+"Ah!" he exclaimed. "Once more you are yourself; the cleverest woman in
+Europe, as, always, you are the most charming!"
+
+"Do you know where Monsieur Martin may be found?"
+
+Jusseret looked at her in surprise.
+
+"I supposed he was here, consulting with you. I sent him to you with a
+letter--recommending him as a useful instrument."
+
+"He was in Algiers, but I sent him away." The Countess laughed. "He
+wanted money, always money, until I wearied of furnishing his purse."
+
+"Even if he were available he could hardly go to Puntal, Madame,"
+demurred Jusseret. "Von Ritz knows him."
+
+"True." The Countess sat for a time in deep thought.
+
+"There is one man in Puntal," said Jusseret with sudden thought, "who
+might possibly be of assistance to you. He is not legally a citizen of
+Galavia. He even has a certain official connection with another
+government. He is a man I cannot myself approach." Jusseret had been
+talking in a low tone, too low to endanger being overheard by the
+_cocher_, but now with excess of caution he leaned forward and whispered
+a name. The name was Jose Reebeler.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was June. Three months had passed since the Grand Duke had steamed
+into Puntal Harbor as Blanco's prisoner of war. The Duke had since that
+day been a guest of the King. His goings and comings were, however,
+guarded with strict solicitude. One day he went after his custom for a
+stroll in the Palace garden. He was accompanied by two officers of the
+Palace Guard especially selected by Von Ritz for known fidelity. At the
+garden gates stood picked sentinels. That evening a fisherman's boat
+stole out of the harbor. Neither Louis Delgado nor his guard returned.
+The sentinels failed to respond at roll-call.
+
+As the King and the Colonel listened to the report of the escape,
+Karyl's face paled a little and the features of Von Ritz hardened.
+Orders were given for an instant dispatch in cipher, demanding from a
+secret agent in Algiers all information obtainable as to the movements
+of the Countess Astaride. The reply brought the statement that the
+Countess had, several days before, sailed for Alexandria and Cairo.
+
+Von Ritz became preternaturally active, masking every movement under his
+accustomed seeming of imperturbable calm. At last he brought his report
+to the King. "It signifies one thing which I had not suspected. Among
+the men whom I thought I could most implicitly trust, there is treason.
+How deep that cancer goes is a matter as to which we can only make
+guesses."
+
+Karyl took a few turns across the floor.
+
+"And by that you mean that we are over a volcano which may break into
+eruption at any moment?"
+
+Von Ritz nodded.
+
+"And the Queen--" began Karyl.
+
+"I have been thinking of Her Majesty," said the Colonel. "She should
+leave Puntal, but she will not go, if it occurs to her that she is being
+sent away to escape danger. Her Majesty's courage might almost be called
+stubborn."
+
+The King made no immediate response. He was standing at a window,
+looking out at the serenity of sea and sky. His forehead was drawn in
+thought. He knew that Von Ritz was right. Had Cara hated him, instead of
+merely finding herself unable to love him, he knew that the first threat
+of danger would arouse the ally in her, and that the suggestion of
+flight would throw her into the attitude of determined resistance. She
+was like the captain who goes down with his ship, not because he loves
+the ship, but because his place is on the bridge.
+
+Von Ritz went on quietly.
+
+"God grant that Your Majesty may be in no actual danger. But we must
+face the situation open-eyed. Your place is here. If by mischance you
+should fall, there is no reason why--" he hesitated, then added--"why
+the dynasty should end with you. In Galavia there is no Salic law. Her
+Majesty could reign. Undoubtedly the Queen should be in some safer
+place."
+
+The King dropped into a chair and sat for some minutes with his eyes
+thoughtfully on the floor. Abstractedly he puffed a cigarette. At last
+he raised his face. It was pale, but stamped with determination.
+
+"There is only one thing to do, Von Ritz. There is one available
+refuge."
+
+The soldier read the reluctant eyes of the other, and spared him the
+necessary explanation with a question. "Mr. Benton's yacht?" he
+inquired.
+
+Karyl nodded. "The yacht."
+
+"I, too, had thought of that, but how can you arrange it, Your Majesty?"
+
+"We must persuade her that she requires a change of scene and that this
+is the one way she can have it without conspicuousness. It can be given
+out that she has gone to Maritzburg, and I shall tell her"--Karyl smiled
+with a cynical humor--"that I am over-weary with this task of Kingship,
+and that I shall join her within a few days for a brief truancy from the
+cares of state."
+
+"It may be the safest thing," reflected the officer. "It at least frees
+our minds of a burdensome anxiety."
+
+"I shall persuade her," declared Karyl. "She can take several
+ladies-in-waiting and you can accompany her to the yacht and explain to
+Benton. Direct him to cruise within wireless call and to avoid cities
+where the Queen might be in danger of recognition. She must remain until
+we gain some hint as to when and where the crater is apt to break into
+eruption."
+
+Jusseret was busy. His agencies were at work over the peninsula. It was
+the sort of conspiracy in which the Frenchman took the keenest
+delight--purely a military revolution.
+
+The peasant on the mountains, the agriculturist in his buttressed and
+terraced farm, the grape-grower in his vineyard and the artisan and
+laborer in Puntal did not know that there was dissatisfaction with the
+government.
+
+But in the small army and the smaller bureaucracy there was plotting and
+undermining. Subtle and devious temptations were employed. Captains saw
+before them the shoulder straps of the major, lieutenants the insignia
+of the captain, privates the chevrons of the sergeant.
+
+Meanwhile, from a town in southerly Europe, near the Galavian frontier,
+Monsieur Jusseret in person was alertly watching.
+
+Martin, the "English Jackal," much depleted in fortune, drifting before
+vagabond winds and hailing last from Malta, learned of the Frenchman's
+seemingly empty programme. Since his dismissal by the Countess, there
+had been no employer for his unscrupulous talents. Now he needed funds.
+Where Jusseret operated there might be work in his particular line. He
+knew that when this man seemed most idle he was often most busy. Martin
+had come to a near-by point by chance. He went on to Jusseret's town,
+and then to his hotel, with the same surety and motive that directs the
+vulture to its carrion. The Jackal was ushered into the Frenchman's
+room in the tattered and somewhat disheveled condition to which his
+recent weeks of vagabondage had subjected him.
+
+Jusseret looked his former ally over with scarcely concealed contempt.
+Martin sustained the stare and returned it with one coolly audacious.
+
+"I daresay," he began, with something of insolence in his drawl, "it's
+hardly necessary to explain why I'm here. I'm looking for something to
+do, and in my condition"--he glanced deprecatingly down at his faded
+tweeds--"one can't be over nice in selecting one's business associates."
+
+Jusseret was secretly pleased. He divined that before the end came there
+might be use for Martin, though no immediate need of him suggested
+itself. There were so few men obtainable who would, without question,
+undertake and execute intrigue or homicide equally well. It might be
+expedient to hold this one in reserve.
+
+"We will not quarrel, Monsieur Martin," he said almost with a purr. "It
+is not even necessary to return the compliment. It is so well
+understood, why one employs your capable services."
+
+The Englishman flushed. To defend his reputation would be a waste of
+time.
+
+"_Madame la Comptesse_ d'Astaride," explained Jusseret, "has gone to
+Cairo. She may require your wits as well as her own before the game is
+played out. Join her there and take your instructions from her." As he
+spoke the map-reviser began counting bills from his well-supplied purse.
+Martin looked at them avidly, then objected with a surly frown.
+
+"She sent me away once, and I don't particularly care for the Cairo
+idea."
+
+"This time she will not send you away." Jusseret glanced up with a bland
+smile. "And it seems I remember a season, not so many years gone, when
+you were a rather prominent personage upon the terrace of Shephard's.
+You were quite an engaging figure of a man, Monsieur Martin, in flannels
+and Panama hat, quite a smart figure!"
+
+The Englishman scowled. "You delight, Monsieur, in touching the raw
+spots--However, I daresay matters will go rippingly." He took the bills
+and counted them into his own purse. "A chap can't afford to be too
+sentimental or thin-skinned." He was thinking of a couple of clubs in
+Cairo from which he had been asked to resign. Then he laughed callously
+as he added aloud: "You see there's a regiment stationed there, just
+now, which I'd rather not meet. I used to belong to its mess--once upon
+a time."
+
+Jusseret looked up at the renegade, then with a cynical laugh he rose.
+
+"These little matters _are_ inconvenient," he admitted, "but
+embarrassments beset one everywhere. If one turns aside to avoid his
+old regiment, who knows but he may meet his tailor insistent upon
+payment--or the lady who was once his wife?"
+
+He lighted a cigarette, then with the refined cruelty that enjoyed
+torturing a victim who could not afford to resent his brutality, he
+added:
+
+"But these army regulations are extremely annoying, I daresay--these
+rules which proclaim it infamous to recognize one who--who has, under
+certain circumstances, ceased to be a brother-officer."
+
+The Englishman was leaning across the table, his cheek-bones red and his
+eyes dangerous.
+
+"By God, Jusseret, don't go too far!" he cautioned.
+
+The Frenchman raised his hands in an apologetic gesture, but his eyes
+still held a trace of the malevolent smile.
+
+"A thousand pardons, my dear Martin," he begged. "I meant only to be
+sympathetic."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+THE DEATH Of ROMANCE IS DEPLORED
+
+
+"And yet," declared young Harcourt, "if there still survives, anywhere
+in the world, a vestige of Romance, this should be her refuge; her last
+stand against the encroachments of the commonplace."
+
+He spoke animatedly, with the double eagerness of a boy and an artist,
+sweeping one hand outward in an argumentative gesture. It was a gesture
+which seemed to submit in evidence all the palpitating colors of Capri
+sunning herself among her rocks: all the sparkle and glitter of the Bay
+of Naples spreading away to the nebulous line where Ischia bulked
+herself in mist against the horizon: all the majesty of the cone where
+the fires of Vesuvius lay sleeping.
+
+Across the table Sir Manuel Blanco shrugged his broad shoulders.
+
+Benton lighted a cigarette, and a smile, scarcely indicative of frank
+amusement, flickered in his eyes.
+
+"Do you hold that Romance is on the run?" he queried.
+
+"Where do you find it nowadays?" demanded the boy in flannels. "There!"
+With the violence of disgust he slammed a Baedeker of Southern Italy
+down upon the table. "That is the way we see the world in these days! We
+go back with souvenir postcards instead of experiences, and when we get
+home we have just been to a lot of tramped-over places. I'll wager that
+a handful of this copper junk they call money over here, would buy in a
+bull market all the real adventure any of us will ever know."
+
+The three had been lunching out-doors in a Capri hotel with flagstones
+for a floor and overhanging vine-trellises for a roof. Chance had thrown
+this young stranger across their path, and luncheon had cemented an
+acquaintanceship.
+
+"Who can say?" suggested Benton. "Why hunt Trouble under the alias of
+Romance? Vesuvius, across there, is as vague and noiseless to-day as a
+wraith, but to-morrow his demon may run amuck over all this end of
+Italy! And then--" His laugh finished the speculation.
+
+"And yet," went on the boy, after a moment's pause, "I was just thinking
+of a chap I met in Algiers a while back and later on the boat to Malta.
+I ran across him in one of those vile little twisting alleys in the
+Kasbah quarter where dirty natives sit cross-legged on shabby rugs and
+eye the 'Infidel dogs' just as spiders watch flies from loathsome
+webs--ugh, you know the sort of place!" He paused with a slight shudder
+of reminiscent disgust. "I fancy he has had adventures. We had a glass
+of wine later down at one of the sidewalk cafes in the _Boulevard de la
+Republique_. He showed me lots of things that a regular guide would have
+omitted. The fellow was on his uppers, yet he had been something else,
+and still knew genteel people. Up on the driveway by the villas, where
+fashion parades, he excused himself to speak with a magnificently
+dressed woman in a brougham, and she chatted with him in a manner almost
+confidential. He told me later she might some day occupy a throne; I
+think her name was the Countess Astaride."
+
+Benton looked up quickly and his eyes met those of the Spaniard with a
+swiftly flashed message which excluded Harcourt.
+
+"This fellow and I were on the same boat coming over to Valetta,"
+continued the young tourist. "One night in the smoke-room, the steward
+was filling the glasses pretty frequently. At last he became
+confidential."
+
+"Yes?" prompted Benton.
+
+"Well, he told me he had once held a commission in the British Army and
+had seen service in diplomacy as military attache. Then he got
+cashiered. He didn't go into particulars, and of course I didn't
+cross-question. He recited some weird experiences. He had been a cattle
+man in Australia and a horse-trader in Syria and had served the Sultan
+in Turkey. There were lots of things that would have made a good book."
+The boy's voice took on a note of young ardor. "But the great story was
+the one he told last. He had stood to win a title of nobility in this
+two-by-four Kingdom of Galavia, but it had slipped away from him just on
+the verge of attainment."
+
+Harcourt slowly drained his thin Capri wine and set down the goblet.
+
+"I must watch the time," he remembered at last, drawing out his watch.
+"I do the Blue Grotto this afternoon.... Well, to continue: This chap
+gave the name Browne (he insisted that it be Browne with an e), though
+while he was drunk he called himself Martin.
+
+"He told a long and complicated story of plans in which a King was to
+lose his life and throne. He said that the secret cabinets of several of
+the major European governments were interested, and that just as
+carefully prepared plans were about to be consummated something
+happened--something mysterious which none of the cleverest agents of the
+governments had been able to solve. In some unfathomable way someone had
+discovered everything and stepped between and disarranged. No upheaval
+followed and of course Browne never won his title. They have never yet
+learned who saved that throne. Someone is working magic and getting
+away with it under the eyes of Europe's cleverest detectives."
+
+The boy stopped and looked about to see if his recital had aroused the
+proper wonderment. Both men gave expression of deep interest. Flattered
+by the impression he had made, Harcourt went on. "Now you fellows are
+old travelers--men of the world--I am a kid compared to you. Yet has
+either of you stumbled on such a story as that? So you see wonderful
+things do sometimes happen under the surface of affairs with never a
+ripple at the top of the water. Browne--or Martin--said that the Duke
+would reign yet--oh, yes, he said the Powers would see to that!"
+
+"_Senor_, what became of your friend?" inquired Blanco.
+
+"Oh!" the boy hesitated for a moment, then broke into a laugh. "I'm
+afraid that's an anti-climax. They found that he was simply a nervy
+stowaway. He had not booked his passage and so--"
+
+"They put him off?"
+
+"Yes, at Malta. Meantime he was stripped to the waist and armed with a
+shovel in the stoke-hold."
+
+Benton laughed.
+
+"There was another phase to it, though--" began the boy afresh.
+
+At that moment the whistle of the small excursion steamer below broke
+out in a shrill scream. Young Harcourt hurriedly pushed back his chair
+and grabbed for his Panama hat. "Caesar!" he cried, "there's the whistle.
+I shall miss my boat for the Grotto." And he hastened off with a shout
+of summons to a crazy victoria that was clattering by empty.
+
+During a long silence Blanco studied the cone of Vesuvius.
+
+"Blanco!" Benton leaned across the table with an anxious frown and
+stretched out a hand which over-turned the wine glasses. "There was one
+thing he said that stuck in my memory. He said the Powers would see that
+in the end Louis had his throne."
+
+The Spaniard shook his head dubiously.
+
+"The Powers have lost their instrument! You forget, _Senor_, that this
+is underground diplomacy. It must appear to work itself out and the new
+King must be logical. With Louis a prisoner their meddling hands are
+bound."
+
+Benton rose and pushed back his chair. His companion joined him and
+together they passed out through the stone-flagged court and into the
+road. For fifteen minutes they walked morosely and in silence through
+the steep streets where the shops are tourist-traps, alluringly baited
+with corals and trinkets. Finally they came out on the beach where many
+fishing boats were dragged up on the sand, and nets stretched, drying in
+the sun.
+
+Then Benton spoke.
+
+"In God's name, Manuel, what do I care who occupies the throne of
+Galavia? No other man could so block my path as Karyl." Then as one in
+the confessional he declared shamefacedly: "I have never said it to any
+man because it is too much like murder, but--sometimes I wish I had
+reached Cadiz one day later than I did." He drew his handkerchief and
+wiped the moisture from his forehead.
+
+The Spaniard skillfully kindled a cigarette in the spurt of a match,
+which the gusty sea-breeze made short-lived.
+
+"And now," he calmly suggested, "it is still possible to let Europe play
+out her game alone. After all, _Senor_, we are as the young _touristo_
+indicated--only amateurs."
+
+"And yet, Manuel," the American smiled half-quizzically, "yet we seem
+foreordained to play bodyguard to Karyl. Fate throws him on our hands."
+
+"We might decline in future to accept the charge."
+
+Benton halted so close to the water's edge that a bit of sea-weed was
+washed up close to his feet. "Any threat to the throne of Galavia now is
+also a threat to Her. We must learn what these Powers purpose doing."
+He threw back his shoulders and his step quickened with the resolution
+of fresh action.
+
+"Besides," he supplemented, "Delgado is a dreaming degenerate! We must
+get back into the game."
+
+The Spaniard laughed. "As you say, _Senor_. After all, this mere
+cruising grows monotonous. Playing the game is better."
+
+When, at twilight that evening, the launch came chugging back to the
+yacht with the mail from Naples, Benton caught sight of a blue envelope
+in which he recognized the form of the Italian telegraph. He tore it
+open and his brows contracted in incredulous wonderment as he read the
+message.
+
+"Miss Carstow and two other ladies arrive Parker's Hotel Naples Tuesday
+afternoon. Rely on your meeting her with yacht. She will explain. Be
+ready to sail immediately on arrival. Address reply Pagratide, care
+Grand Palace Hotel."
+
+Benton smiled almost happily as he scrawled, in reply, "_Isis_ and self
+at Miss Carstow's service. Waiting under steam. Benton."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+NAPLES ASSUMES NEW BEAUTY
+
+
+The following day was Tuesday. It found Benton nearer cheerfulness than
+he had been since the _Isis_ had in February pointed her bow eastward
+for the run across the Atlantic, under sealed orders.
+
+To Blanco the yachtsman announced that he would lunch at Parker's, and
+evasively asked the Spaniard if he would mind being left alone for the
+day.
+
+As the coachman, hailed at random from the mob of brigands by the
+Custom-house entrance, cracked his whip over the bony stallion in the
+fiacre shafts, Benton began to notice that Naples was altogether
+charming. He found no refusals for the tatterdemalion vagabonds who
+pattered alongside to thrust their violets over the carriage door.
+
+At last, as he paced one of the main parlors of the hotel, his eyes
+riveted on the street entrance, he heard a laugh behind him; a laugh
+tempered with a vibrant mellowness which was of a sort with no other
+laugh, and which set him vibrating in turn, as promptly as a tuning-fork
+answers to its note.
+
+The sound brought him round in such electric haste as almost resulted in
+collision with the girl behind him.
+
+He was prepared, of course, to find in her incognita no suggestion of
+Royalty, yet now when he met her standing alone, and could take the hand
+she held out to him with her heart-breaking, heart-recompensating smile,
+he felt a distinct sense of astonishment.
+
+"I'm having a holiday," she declared. "It's to be the Queen's day off
+and you are being allowed to play host with the _Isis_. Do you approve?"
+
+With abandonment to the delight of mere propinquity, he laid away sorrow
+against the returning time of her absence, as one lays away an umbrella
+until the next shower.
+
+"Approve?" he mocked. "It's like asking the drowning man if he approves
+of being picked up."
+
+For a moment her eyes clouded and a droop threatened her lips.
+
+"But," she said in a softer tone, "what if you've got to be thrown back
+into the sea again?" Then she added, "And, you see, I have. Probably I'm
+very foolish to come. The prison will only be blacker, but I couldn't
+stand it. I wanted--" She looked at him with the frankness which has
+nothing to conceal--"I wanted to forget it all for a little time."
+
+With a frigid salutation, Colonel Von Ritz arrived. As he addressed the
+American, despite his flawless courtesy, his voice still carried the
+undercurrent of antagonism which no word of his had ever failed to
+convey to Benton, since their first meeting in America.
+
+"If Miss Carstow"--he uttered the assumed name with distaste--"will
+excuse you," he suggested, "I should like a word."
+
+Von Ritz led the way out of doors and between the tables and trellises
+of the garden until he came upon a spot which seemed to promise the
+greatest possible degree of privacy. There he stopped and stood looking
+straight ahead of him.
+
+"All that I now tell you, Mr. Benton"--his voice was even and polite to
+a nicety, yet distinctly icy--"is of course a message from the King."
+
+"Meaning," Benton smiled with polite indifference, "that your personal
+communications with me would be few?"
+
+"Meaning," corrected Von Ritz gravely, "that in His Majesty's affairs, I
+speak only on His Majesty's authority."
+
+"Colonel, I am at your service."
+
+"In the first place," began the Galavian at last, "His Majesty wished me
+to explain why he has presumed on your further assistance. You are the
+only man outside Galavia who understands--and whom the King may
+implicitly trust, trust even with the safety of Her Majesty, the
+Queen."
+
+"You will convey to the King my appreciation of his confidence."
+Somehow, between the American and this emissary of Karyl, there could
+never be any attitude other than that of the utmost formality.
+
+Von Ritz sketched the situation.
+
+"It is important that the world should not know of Her Majesty's
+departure. It would be an admission to the conspirators that the King
+feels his weakness, and would invite attack. For this reason she could
+not leave in the ordinary way. Fortunately, it is not difficult for Her
+Majesty to escape recognition. She is perhaps the one Queen in Europe
+whose published portraits would not make it impossible for her to go
+unknown through the cities of the Continent. Her prejudice against
+photographs has given her that immunity. She might walk through Paris
+unrecognized."
+
+Benton looked narrowly at Von Ritz. "How much does she know of the
+truth?"
+
+"Absolutely nothing. She has been persuaded to regard the truancy as a
+break in the routine of Court life, which--" Von Ritz hesitated, then
+went on doggedly--"which she finds distasteful. She does not even know
+that the Duke is free. That is as closely guarded a secret as the fact
+that he was being held under duress."
+
+The soldier paused, then went on. "The King has told Her Majesty that he
+hopes to join her on your yacht within a few days. You will please
+encourage that fiction. In point of fact," with a gesture of despair,
+"if His Majesty were to leave now he would never return, and if he
+remains now he may never again leave. I must myself hasten back."
+
+The two men went at some length over the details of the situation. It
+was agreed that the simple name of a town received by wireless should be
+a signal upon which the _Isis_ would proceed with all possible haste to
+the place designated. If the necessity should arise for Karyl's leaving
+Galavia, he might in this way take refuge on the yacht. This, explained
+Von Ritz, was only the final precaution of preparing for every exigency.
+His Majesty was determined not to leave his city alive, until he could
+leave it in the full security of his established government.
+
+The King also made another request. If Blanco could be spared and would
+consent to come to Puntal, his proven ability, together with his
+understanding of the language and the fact that he was not generally
+known in Puntal, would give him untold value. All the government's
+secret agents were either under suspicion of treason or too well known
+to the conspirators to be of great avail. If Blanco agreed to come, he
+might return with Von Ritz, or follow him at once and await instructions
+at his hotel, using care to avoid the semblance of open communication
+with the Palace.
+
+On his return to the parlors, Cara presented Benton to her
+ladies-in-waiting, the Countess Fernandez and the Countess Jaurez, who
+were to travel as Miss Carstow's aunts.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When there is a three-quarter moon and an atmosphere as subtle as
+perfume; when the walls of the city lose their ragged lines and melt
+into soft shadow shapes, relieved here and there by lights which the
+waters mirror, night and the Bay of Naples are not bad. Then the small
+boats which bob alongside are filled with picturesque beggars raising
+huge bunches of violets on bamboo poles to the deck rails, and the
+mingling of singing voices with guitars sets it all to music.
+
+On the forward deck Benton stood leaning on the rail and looking toward
+the city. At his side was Cara Carstow. She was silent, but she shook
+her head, and the man's solicitous scrutiny caught the deepening
+thought-furrow between her eyes, and the twitching of her fingers.
+
+He bent forward and spoke softly. "Cara, what is it?" She looked up and
+smiled. "I was remembering that I stood just here, once before," she
+said.
+
+"Do you think," he asked quietly, "that there has been a moment since
+then that I have not remembered it? That night you belonged to me and I
+to you."
+
+"I guess," she said rather wearily, "we don't any of us belong to
+ourselves or to those we love most. We just belong to Fate."
+
+"Cara!" He gripped the rail tightly and his words fell evenly. "Over
+there in America, you admitted to me that you loved me. That was when
+you were not yet Queen of Galavia." He brought himself up with a sudden
+halt. She looked up as frankly as a child.
+
+"I didn't admit it," she said. "We only admit things against our will,
+don't we? I told you gladly."
+
+"And now--!" He held his breath as he looked into her eyes.
+
+"Now I am the Queen of a hideous little Kingdom," she shuddered. "It
+wouldn't do for me to say it now, would it?"
+
+"Oh!" The man leaned again heavily on the rail. The monosyllable was
+eloquent. Impulsively she bent toward him, then caught herself. For a
+moment she looked out at the water undulating under the moon like
+mother-of-pearl on a waving fan. "But it was all right to say I loved
+you then," she went on reflectively, after a pause. "I had a perfect
+right then to tell you that I loved you better than all the small total
+of the world beside, and--" her voice faltered for a moment--"and," with
+a musical laugh, she illogically added, "I have nothing to take back of
+what I then said, though of course I can't ever say it again."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+THE SENTRY BOX ANSWERS THE KING'S QUERY
+
+
+Several days later, Blanco arrived in Puntal shortly after the lazy noon
+hour.
+
+Out of disconnected fragments of fact and memory he had evolved a
+theory. It was a theory as yet immature and half-baked, but one upon
+which he resolved to act, trusting to the lucky outcome of subsequent
+events for the filling in of many gaps, and the making good of many
+deficiencies.
+
+Among the shreds of fragmentary information which Manuel had previously
+stored away in his memory was the fact that one Jose Reebeler was a
+capitalist. This was not exclusive information. Every guide and casual
+acquaintance hastened to sing for the newcomer the saga of Reebeler's
+importance. One was informed that this magnate owned the three tourist
+hotels and their acres of vine-covered gardens; that he controlled the
+half-humorous pretense of a street-railway company and that even the
+huge, dominating rock upon which perched the pavilions and casino of the
+Strangers' Club was his property. Still more significant, to Blanco's
+reasoning, was the fact that Reebeler, though Puntal-born, was of
+British parentage and that over his house, in the _Ruo do Consilhiero_,
+floated both British and American flags, while the double coat-of-arms
+above his balcony proclaimed him the consular agent of both governments.
+Here, reasoned Blanco, was a man shielded behind the devices of two
+nations, neither of which was engaged in petty Mediterranean intrigue.
+He would be the last man in Puntal to challenge a suspicious glance from
+the Palace, yet as a man of moneyed enterprise his wish for concessions
+might well give a political coloring to his thoughts. Somewhere he had
+heard that the Strangers' Club aspired to the establishment of a
+gambling Mecca which should rival Monte Carlo in magnitude and that the
+present impediment was the frown of the government upon such a wholesale
+gambling enterprise. It was quite unlikely that the Delgado government
+would discourage a syndicate which could turn a munificent revenue into
+its taxing coffers.
+
+Through a shaded courtyard where a small fountain tinkled, Blanco
+strolled to the Consular office and rapped on the door. He was conducted
+by a native servant to an inner room. Here, while a great blue-bottle
+fly droned and thumped, Reebeler, a heavy Briton with mild eyes,
+sprawled his length in a wicker chair and poured brandy and soda. First
+Blanco represented himself as an adoptive American, touring the world
+and interested in natural resources. When his host had exhausted the
+subject of the wine-grower's battle against the ravages of "_oidium
+Tuckeri_" and "_phyloxera_," Blanco picked up a stick of sealing-wax
+from the table and commenced toying with it in a manner of aimlessness.
+He struck match after match and melted pellet after pellet of wax, then
+absently he took from his pocket a gold seal-ring and made, with its
+shield, several impressions on the wax. Reebeler's eyes were half-closed
+as he gazed vacantly at the pigeons cooing and strutting in his
+courtyard.
+
+"See, I have at last got a good impression." The Spaniard idly tossed
+over the scrap of paper upon which he had stamped a half-dozen of Louis
+Delgado's crests from the die of the Comptessa Astaride's ring.
+
+The Consul took the fragment of paper with the manner of one forced by
+politeness to assume an interest in trivialities which bore him.
+
+"See how clearly the device of His Grace stands out in the last
+impression," casually suggested Blanco, then with eyes narrowly bent on
+the other he saw the astonished start as his vis-a-vis realized what
+device had been imprinted on the paper. It was the sign for which he had
+played. When Reebeler's eyes came up questioningly to his own, he, too,
+was looking off through the raised window where the limp curtain barely
+trembled in the light breeze.
+
+"The ring is interesting," suggested the Consul.
+
+"The arms seem to be those of a family of Galavia which is connected
+with Royalty. Did you pick it up in a curio shop? If so, some servant
+must have stolen it."
+
+Blanco stood up. "We waste time fencing, _Senor_ Reebeler," he said,
+"His Grace, Louis Delgado, was held captive by the King until several
+days ago. He then escaped. That escape has been kept secret by the King.
+Only men in the Duke's confidence know of it. I am in the service of His
+Grace and I report to you. In these times we do not carry signed letters
+of introduction--those of us at least who are not protected behind the
+insignia of Consular office."
+
+There was a long silence. Reebeler, under the influence of brandy and
+perplexity, breathed heavily. Blanco poured from a squat bottle and
+watched the soda bubble in the glass.
+
+Finally the Consul inquired with a show of indifference: "Why do you
+assume that I know anything of this matter?"
+
+Blanco laughed. "I have already told you that I come from His Grace.
+Naturally His Grace knew to whom to commend me. I have frankly given
+myself into your hands by declaring my sentiments. On the other hand,
+you decline a similar confidence. You are discreet." He waved his hand.
+"_Adios_."
+
+"Wait." The Consul stopped him at the door. He paused, cleared his
+throat and then abruptly suggested: "Suppose you return to-morrow at
+six."
+
+The Spaniard bowed. "I only wish you to test me, _Senor_."
+
+That evening Blanco knew that he was being shadowed. The next day he had
+the same sense of being incessantly watched. This was a thing which he
+had expected and for which he was prepared. Promptly at six o'clock he
+returned to the _Rue do Consilhiero_.
+
+He knew that his greatest danger lay in the possibility of communication
+by the conspirators with the Duke or the Countess, but he had been
+assured that Marie Astaride was in Cairo and it could safely be assumed
+that Delgado would return to Galavia only at the psychological moment.
+If either of these assumptions were false Louis would, of course,
+recognize the description of his kidnapper. The Countess would connect
+the episode of the ring with the former checkmating of her plans. At all
+events, he must chance those possibilities.
+
+This time the Consulate was discreetly shut in by drawn jealousies.
+Within, beside Reebeler himself, were a number of men, all of whom
+narrowly scrutinized the newcomer. Those who were not in uniform
+carried themselves with a cocky smartness that belied their civilian
+clothes. The man from Cadiz returned their gaze with the same
+imperturbable steadiness and the same concealed wariness which he had
+employed when, in the _Plaza de Toros_, he awaited the charge of the
+bull.
+
+For a time they allowed him to stand in silence under the embarrassing
+batteries of their eyes, then an elderly officer assumed the position of
+spokesman.
+
+"If you are a spy your experience will be brief," he announced.
+
+Blanco smiled.
+
+"That is as it should be, _Senor_. Spies are not entitled to an old
+age."
+
+"We are going to test you," continued the officer. "We have need of men
+of courage. If, as you claim, the Duke sent you, he must have done so
+because he regarded you as available. If you prove trustworthy, all
+right. If not, it is your misfortune, because in the place where we mean
+to use you you will have no opportunity to betray us, and a very
+excellent opportunity of meeting death. We cannot now communicate with
+His Grace for corroboration, so we shall let you prove yourself. You
+seem to bear no message from the Duke. That has the smell of suspicion."
+
+"On the contrary," retorted the Spaniard, "the Duke believed that a man
+who was a stranger might prove of value. I was to take my instructions
+from you."
+
+Blanco wondered vaguely what the future held for him. Evidently their
+acceptance of his services was to bear a close resemblance to
+imprisonment. He could see in the programme small opportunity to serve
+the King. His instructions had been to win into their confidence and do
+what he could.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Two weeks later, in the small garden giving off from the King's private
+apartments, and perched half-way up the buttressed side of the rock on
+which sat the Palace, Karyl impatiently awaited the coming of Colonel
+Von Ritz. Below he could hear a brass band in the Botanical Gardens and
+out in the bay a German war-ship, decorated for a dance, blazed like a
+set piece in a pyrotechnic display.
+
+There was peace, summer, perfume, in the moonlit air and Karyl smiled
+ironically as he reflected that even the bodyguard so carefully selected
+by Von Ritz might at any moment enter the place and raise the shout of
+"Long live King Louis!"
+
+Leaning over the parapet, he could see one of his fantastically
+uniformed soldiery pacing back and forth before a sentry-box, his musket
+jauntily shouldered, and a bayonet glinting at his belt. Karyl stood
+looking, and his lips curled skeptically as he wondered whether the man
+would repel or admit assassins.
+
+Somewhat wearily the King turned and leaned on the stone coping of the
+outer wall. He was at one end where a shadow cloaked him, but he lighted
+a cigarette and the match that flared up threw an orange-red light on
+his face, showing eyes which were lusterless. For a few moments he held
+the match in his hollowed palms, coaxing its blaze in the breeze. Before
+it had burned out there came a sharp report and Karyl heard the spat of
+flattening lead on the masonry at his back. The echo rattled along the
+rocky side of the hill. One of the sentry-boxes had answered his unasked
+question of loyalty.
+
+He waited. There was no rush of feet. No medley of anxiously inquiring
+voices. Others had heard the report, of course, yet no one hastened to
+inquire and investigate. The King, pacing farther back where his
+silhouette was less clearly defined, laughed again, very bitterly.
+
+Finally Von Ritz came. "It seems that we can rely on no one," he said.
+"The Palace Guard had been picked from the few in whom I still believed.
+I had hoped there was a trustworthy remnant."
+
+"One of them has just tried a shot at me with one of my own muskets."
+The King spoke impersonally as though the matter bore only on the
+psychic question of trusting men. "The spot is there on the wall." Then
+he added with bitter whimsicality: "It seems to me, Colonel, that we
+have either very poor marksmen in our service, or else we supply them
+with very poor rifles."
+
+For a moment Von Ritz almost smiled. "I was passing the point as he
+touched the trigger, Your Majesty," he replied with calmness. "I will
+personally vouch for his future harmlessness."
+
+The lighted door, at the same moment, framed the figure of an aide.
+"Your Majesty," he said with a bow, "Monsieur Jusseret prays a brief
+audience."
+
+Karyl turned to Von Ritz, his brows arching interrogation. In answer the
+Colonel wheeled and addressed the officer, who waited statuesquely: "His
+Majesty will not receive Monsieur Jusseret. Any matters of interest to
+France will receive His Majesty's attention when they reach him through
+France's properly accredited ambassador."
+
+Yet five minutes later, Jusseret, escorted by several officers in the
+Galavian uniform, entered the garden through the door of the King's
+private suite. At the monstrous insolence of this forbidden invasion of
+Karyl's privacy, Von Ritz stepped forward. His voice was even colder
+than usual with the chill of mortal fury.
+
+"You have evidently misunderstood. The King declined to receive you--"
+he began.
+
+Karyl turned his head and looked curiously on. The keen, dissipated eyes
+of the sub-rosa diplomat twinkled humorously. For a moment the thin lips
+twisted into a wry smile.
+
+"The King is hardly in a position that warrants declining to receive
+me," he announced with an ironically ceremonious bow to Karyl. He was
+imperturbable and impeccable from his patent-leather pumps to the Legion
+of Honor ribbon in his lapel.
+
+"I offer the King an opportunity to abdicate his throne--and retain his
+liberty. Not only do I offer him his liberty, but also such an income as
+will make the cafes of Paris possible, and the society of other
+gentlemen who are also--well, let us say retired Royalties. I do this in
+the capacity of a private friend of the Grand Duke Louis Delgado." His
+smile was bland, suave, undisturbed.
+
+Von Ritz took a step forward.
+
+"Escort Monsieur Jusseret to the Palace gates!" he commanded, his eyes
+blazing on the Galavian officers. "The persons of even secret
+Ambassadors are sacred--otherwise--" His voice failed him.
+
+The officers cringed back under his glance, but stood supine and
+inactive.
+
+Karyl waited with a cold smile on his lips. His face was pale but there
+was no touch of fear in the expression. For a brief psychological moment
+there was absolute silence, then the Frenchman spoke again. "Gentlemen,
+you are my prisoners." Turning to the Colonel, he added: "You have clung
+to the waning dynasty, Von Ritz, until it fell, but your sword may still
+find service in Galavia. I offer you the opportunity. We have often
+crossed wits. Now, for the first time, I win--and offer amnesty."
+
+For a moment Von Ritz stood white and trembling with rage, then with his
+open hand he struck the smiling face that seemed to float tauntingly
+before his eyes, and drawing his sword, stepped between the King and the
+suddenly concentrated group of officers who moved frontward with a
+single accord, hands on swords. They spread from a group into a line,
+and the line quickly closed in a circle around the King and the one man
+who remained loyal.
+
+Karyl was himself unarmed. He raised a restraining hand to Von Ritz's
+shoulder, but before he could speak his head sagged forward under the
+impact of some sudden shock--some blow from behind--and things went dark
+about him as he crumpled to his knees and fell.
+
+Von Ritz, struggling desperately with a broken blade in his hand was
+slowly overwhelmed by seeming swarms of men. Like a tiger caught in a
+net, his ferocity gradually waned until, bleeding from scratch-wounds
+in a half-dozen places, he felt himself sinking into a haze. His useless
+sword-hilt fell with a clatter to the tiles. As his arms were pinioned
+by several of his captors, he was dreamily aware that music still
+floated up from the Botanical Gardens and the German man-of-war. Nearer
+at hand, Von Ritz heard--or perhaps dreamed through his stupor that he
+heard--a voice exclaiming: "Long live King Louis!"
+
+There had been no noise which could have penetrated beyond the King's
+suite. Less than ten minutes had elapsed since the sentinel had been
+pacing below. Jusseret, passing unostentatiously out through the Palace
+gate, glanced at his watch and smiled. It had been excellently managed.
+
+Later, Karyl recovered consciousness to find things little changed. He
+was lying on a leather couch in his own rooms. The windows on the small
+garden still stood open and the moon, riding farther down the west,
+bathed the outer world in shimmer of silver, but at each door stood a
+sentinel.
+
+Karyl remembered that during Louis Delgado's recent captivity he had
+fared in precisely the same manner, neither better nor worse.
+
+The King rose, still a trifle unsteady from the blow he had received,
+and went out into the garden. There was no effort on the part of the
+saluting soldier to halt him, and once outside he realized why this
+latitude was allowed him. In addition to the man at the door, a second
+walked back and forth by the outer wall. As Karyl stepped into the
+moonlight this man, himself in the shadow, saluted as his fellow had
+done.
+
+"I have the honor to command the guard, Your Grace," said the man in a
+respectful voice. "It is by the order of His Majesty, King Louis."
+Something in the enunciation puzzled Karyl with a hint of the familiar.
+
+"Why do you remain outside?" he asked.
+
+"Over this wall, any comparatively agile man might make his way to the
+beach, if he succeeded in passing the muskets of the sentry-boxes--and
+there are boats at the water's edge," explained the soldier with a short
+laugh. "I am responsible for the guard, so I keep this post myself. I
+believe myself incorruptible and men with thrones at stake might make
+tempting offers."
+
+Karyl smiled. "What would you regard as a tempting offer?" he suggested.
+
+For answer the man came into the light and lifted his cap. The King
+looked into the dark eyes of Manuel Blanco. "I won into their confidence
+by the hardest," he explained in a lowered tone, "but after that, I had
+no opportunity to leave them or communicate with you. This was all I
+could do. As it is, I shall be recognized as soon as the Duke arrives."
+
+Blanco raised his voice again in casual conversation and beckoned to the
+sentinel at the door. When the man approached the Spaniard pointed over
+the wall. "Do you see that rock? Is that a figure crouching behind its
+shelter?" he demanded. As the man leaned forward, Manuel suddenly struck
+him heavily at the back of the neck with a loose stone caught up from
+the masonry's coping. The soldier dropped without a sound.
+
+"Now, Your Majesty, we must risk it down the rock," prompted the man
+from Cadiz, in hurried, low-pitched words. "Moments are invaluable....
+It is only while I command the guard that there is a chance of your
+escape.... An officer may come at any instant on a round of
+inspection--my discovery as the Duke's kidnapper is a matter of
+minutes.... I have been watched and tested in a hundred ways; it was
+only to-day that I convinced them of my fanatic zeal."
+
+Blanco hurriedly gave his cap and cape to the King, donning himself the
+blouse of Karyl's undress uniform. Then the two crept cautiously down
+the rifted face of the cliff, holding the shadow of the crevices. One
+sentry-box they passed safely, and finally they edged by the second
+unnoticed. They had negotiated the hundred feet of descent and stood
+pressed against the bottom, hugging the black shadow. They were waiting
+an opportunity to slip across a narrow sliver of intervening moonlight
+to the beach and the boat which lay at the water's edge.
+
+Occasional lazy clouds drifted across the sky. The two refugees, goaded
+by the realization that every wasted second cut their desperate hope
+more and more to a vanishing point, watched the fleecy scraps of mist
+skim by the moon afar off without veiling its face. Then for a short
+moment a shred of silver-tipped cloud cut off the radiance. Blanco
+seized the King's arm in a wordless signal. Karyl and the bull-fighter
+raced across to the boat that lay at the water's edge. In a moment more
+it was afloat and they were at the oars. The moon emerged and at the
+same instant an outcry came from above. The musket of the man in the
+lower sentry-box barked with a blatant reverberation. One of the figures
+in the boat drooped forward and sagged limply over his oars. The other
+only redoubled his efforts. And then again, like the curtain of a
+theater, a cloud dropped downward and quenched the moon and the sea and
+the rock in impartial obscurity.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+"SCARABS OF A DEAD DYNASTY"
+
+
+Since the anchor had been weighed at Naples, the days had passed
+uneventfully for the indolently cruising _Isis_ with no word from
+Galavia. But at last the operator caught his call and made ready to
+receive. The message consisted of one word, and the word was "Cairo."
+
+Cara, with no suspicion of what was transpiring in Puntal, beguiled by
+the spell of smooth seas and _dolce-far-niente_ softness of sky, was
+once more the frank and charming companion of the American days.
+
+The single word of the Marconigram had left the American in perplexity.
+Evidently either Karyl or Von Ritz was to meet them at Cairo. Probably
+Cairo instead of Alexandria had been designated because the King had
+taken into consideration the possible danger from the plague at the
+seaport. He told Cara only that Karyl would join the vacation party
+there and kept to himself the reservation that his coming probably meant
+disaster. Yet when they reached Cairo there was no news awaiting them.
+
+It was the night of a confetti fete at Shephard's Hotel. Among the trees
+of the gardens were ropes of lights and the soft color-spots of Chinese
+lanterns. Branches glittered with incandescent fruit of brilliant
+colors. Flags hung between the fronds of the palms and the plumes of the
+acacias, and among the pleasure-seekers from East and West of Suez fell
+pelting showers of confetti.
+
+After dinner Cara and the ladies of her party had withdrawn to their
+rooms to prepare for the gay warfare of the gardens. Benton, awaiting
+them in the rotunda, lounged on one of the low divans which circle the
+walls of the octagonal chamber, beneath carved lattices and Moorish
+panels; a cigarette between his fingers and a small cup of black coffee
+on the low tabouret at his elbow.
+
+The place invited lazy ease, and Benton was as indolent among his
+cushions as the spirit of brooding Egypt, but his eyes, watching the
+stairs down which she would come, remained alert.
+
+Hearing his name called in a voice which rang familiarly, he glanced up
+to recognize the smiling face of young Harcourt, his chance acquaintance
+of Capri. He set down the small Turkish cup and rose.
+
+"Come back to the bar and fortify yourself against the thin red line of
+British soldiery out there in the gardens. You can get a ripping
+highball for eight _piastres_," laughed the newcomer. But Benton
+declined.
+
+"I am waiting for ladies," he explained. "I'll see you again."
+
+"Sure you will." Harcourt paused. "I dash up the Nile in the morning,
+going to do Karnak and Luxor--you know, the usual stunt. Been busy all
+day buying scarabs and mummied cats, but I want to see you sometime
+to-night. By the way, I've heard something--"
+
+"All right. See you later." Benton spoke hurriedly, for he had caught
+the flash of a slender figure in white on the stairs.
+
+In the war of the confetti, man makes war on woman and woman on man,
+while over the field reigns a universal and democratic acquaintanceship.
+
+Cara was on vacation, and a child--bent on forgetting that to-morrow
+must come. It was characteristic of her that she should enter into the
+spirit of the occasion with all the abandon it suggested.
+
+Benton stood by as she gradually gave ground before the attacks of a
+stout, gray-templed Briton, a General of the Army of Occupation. She
+fought gallantly, but he stood doggedly before her handfuls of confetti,
+shaking the paper chips out of his eyes and mustache like some
+invincible old St. Bernard, and her slender Mandarin-coated figure
+retreated slowly before his red and medal-decked jacket.
+
+"Watch out!" cried Benton, who followed her retreat, forbidden by the
+rules of warfare from giving aid, other than counsel, "The British Army
+is putting you in a bad strategic position."
+
+She had retreated across the flower-beds and stood with her back to the
+rim of the fountain. Her box of confetti was empty and Benton also was
+without ordnance supplies.
+
+Young Harcourt suddenly stepped forward from the crowd.
+
+"Here!" he cried with a smile of frank worship, as he tendered a fresh
+box of confetti. "Take this and remember Bunker Hill!"
+
+The British officer bowed.
+
+"I surrender," he said, "because you violate the rules of war. Your
+confetti is not deadly and your tactics are mediocre, but your eyes use
+lyddite."
+
+Inside Cara went to her room to wrestle with the tiny chips of
+multi-colored paper that covered her and filled her hair. In the hall,
+Harcourt came again to Benton.
+
+"By Jove, she is a wonder," he said. Then he slipped his arm through
+Benton's and led him aside. The American followed supinely.
+
+"Benton, do you remember the talk we had about Romance?"
+
+Benton looked quickly up to forestall any possible personality to which
+he might object, but Harcourt continued.
+
+"Do you know that chap, Martin--he doesn't call himself Browne now--has
+turned up again? He's been here. Not ragged this time, but well groomed
+and in high feather. To-day he left to go back to Galavia."
+
+"Back to Galavia?" Benton repeated the words in astonishment. "What do
+you mean?"
+
+Harcourt laughed. "The scales have turned and his Grand Duke is to be
+King after all."
+
+Benton seized the boy by the elbow and steered him into one of the empty
+writing-rooms.
+
+"Now, for God's sake, what do you mean?" he demanded.
+
+"That's all," replied the young tourist. "They've switched Kings. Oh, it
+was so quietly done that the people of the city of Puntal don't know yet
+it's happened. The King died suddenly and Louis will ascend his throne."
+
+"The King died suddenly!" Benton echoed the words blankly. "I don't
+understand."
+
+"Neither do I. But Martin said the King was taken prisoner and tried to
+escape. He was shot."
+
+"How did Martin know?" asked Benton slowly, trying to realize the full
+import of the boy's chatter.
+
+"The news hasn't reached here, generally speaking. He said that the
+King's death has not even been made public there, but the Countess
+Astaride has been stopping here. Martin himself was in her party and he
+helped her to decipher the news from the Duke's code-telegram." He
+paused. "However," he added, "that may not interest you. The story
+probably bored you at first, but having told you the original tale, I
+had to add the sequel. What I really wanted to ask you, is to present me
+to the wonderful American girl. You will, won't you?"
+
+Benton's back was turned to the window. He wiped his forehead with his
+handkerchief and stared at nothing.
+
+"You will, won't you?" repeated the boy.
+
+"Oh, yes, of course," Benton replied mechanically. "I shall ask
+permission to do so."
+
+Outside on the terraced veranda, where one sips tea and overlooks one of
+the most varied human tides that flows through any street of the world,
+Benton and Cara sat at a table near the edge--the man wondering how he
+could tell her. Fakirs with spangled shawls from Assouit, bead
+necklaces, ebony walking-sticks, scarabs and souvenir postcards jostled
+on the sidewalk to pass their wares over the railing. Fat Arab guides
+with red fezes and the noisy jargon of half-mastered French and English
+discussed to-morrow's journeys with industrious globe-trotters.
+
+On the tiles squatted a juggler from India. Under his white turban his
+glittering, beady eyes appraised the generosity of his audience as he
+arranged his flat baskets, his live rabbits and his hooded cobras for an
+exhibition of mercenary magic.
+
+Along the street, heralded with tom-toms, came a procession of lurching
+camels, jogging donkeys, rattling carriages, acrobats leading dog-faced
+apes and trailing Arabs in fezes--the pomp and pageantry of a pilgrim
+returning from Mecca. Motors, victorias, detachments of cavalry swept by
+in unbroken and spectacular show.
+
+Benton sat stiffly with his jaw muscles tightly drawn and his eyes
+dazed, looking at the girl across the table.
+
+She turned from the street, eyes still sparkling with the reflected
+variety of the picture that hodge-podged Occident and Orient,
+telescoping the dead ages with to-day.
+
+"Oh, I love things so," she laughed. "I'm as foolish as a child about
+things that are new."
+
+With another glance at the shifting tide, she added seriously: "And
+every silly Oriental of them all is free to go where he pleases--to do
+what he pleases. I would give everything for freedom, and they have
+it--and don't value it!"
+
+Then she saw the hard strain of his face. Slowly her own eyes lost the
+glow of pleasurable interest and saddened with the realization of being
+barred back from life.
+
+The man bent forward. His fingers tightened on the edge of the table
+with a clutch which drove the blood back under his nails. It was a hard
+fight to retain his self-control. His question broke from him in a low,
+almost savage voice.
+
+"Cara!" he demanded. "Cara, is there any price too high to pay for
+happiness?"
+
+"What do you mean?" The intensity of his eyes held hers, and for a
+moment she feared for his reason. Her own question was low and
+steadying, but he answered in an unnatural voice.
+
+"I hardly know--perhaps I have less right to speak now than
+ever--perhaps more. I don't know, I only know that I love you--and that
+the world seems reeling."
+
+Something caught in his throat.
+
+"I'm a cur to talk of it now. I want to think of--of--something else. I
+ought to think only what a splendid sort he was--but I can realize only
+one thing--I love you."
+
+"Only one thing," she repeated softly. Then as she looked again into the
+feverishly bright eyes under his scowl, the meaning which lay back of
+his words broke suddenly upon her.
+
+"_Was_!" she echoed in startled comprehension. "_Was_!--did you say
+was?"
+
+The man remained silent.
+
+"You mean that--?" she said the three words very slowly and stopped,
+unable to go on.
+
+"You mean--that--he--?" With a strong effort she added the one word,
+then gave up the effort to shape the question. Her hand closed
+convulsively.
+
+Benton slowly nodded his head. The girl leaned forward toward him. Her
+lips parted, her eyes widened.
+
+The next instant they were misty with tears. Not hypocritical tears for
+an unloved husband, but sincere tears for a generous friend.
+
+"Delgado escaped," he explained simply. "Karyl was captured." Again he
+spoke in few words. It seemed that he could not manage long sentences.
+"Then he tried to escape," he added.
+
+She pressed her fingers to her temples, and leaned forward, speaking
+rapidly in a half-whisper that sometimes broke.
+
+"Oh, it's not fair! It's not fair! I want to think only how splendid he
+was--how unselfish--how brave! I want to think of him always as he
+deserves, lovingly, fondly--and I've got to remember forever how little
+I could give him in return!"
+
+"Yes, I guess he was the whitest man--" Benton stopped, then blurted out
+like a boy. "Oh, what's the use of my sitting here eulogizing him. I
+guess he doesn't need my praises. I guess he can stand on his own
+record."
+
+"It's monstrous!" she said, and then she, too, fell back on silence.
+
+Suddenly she rose to her feet, carried one hand to her heart and swayed
+uncertainly for a moment, steadying herself with one hand on the table.
+
+The man turned, following her half-hypnotic gaze, in time to see Colonel
+Von Ritz bending over her hand. With recognition, Benton started up,
+then his jaw dropped and, doubting his own sanity, he fell back into his
+chair and sat gazing with blank eyes.
+
+At Von Ritz's elbow stood Pagratide.
+
+Slowly Benton came to his feet, his ears ringing. Then as Karyl turned
+from the girl and held out his hand to him, the American heard, as one
+listening through the roaring of a fever, some question about affairs in
+Galavia.
+
+He heard Karyl answer, and though the words seemed to come from
+somewhere beyond Port Said, he recognized that the former King tried to
+speak in a matter-of-fact voice.
+
+"I have no Kingdom. Louis took it."
+
+Karyl had held out his left hand. The right was bound down in a sling.
+But these things were all vague to Benton because it seemed that the
+pilgrim's tom-toms were beating inside his brain, and beating out of
+time. He could see that Karyl's eyes also were weary and lusterless.
+
+Turning with an excuse for travel-stain to be removed, Karyl halted.
+
+"Benton," he said. There he fell silent. "Benton," he said again,
+forcing himself to speak in a voice not far from the breaking point,
+"Blanco--Blanco is dead."
+
+He turned on his heel and went into the hotel.
+
+Blanco dead! For a moment Benton felt an insane desire to rush after
+Karyl and demand his life for Blanco's. Some delirious accusation that
+this man cost him every dear thing in life seemed fighting for
+expression and reprisal, then he realized that the _toreador_ had won
+his way into Pagratide's affection as well as his own. Tears came to his
+eyes for an instant. He focused his gaze on a cigarette-shop across the
+street.
+
+"Lady!"
+
+A grinning Egyptian face, surmounted by a red fez, showed itself over
+the railing. The girl started violently and seemed for a moment on the
+edge of hysteria. She laughed unnaturally. Thus encouraged, the
+Bedouin's grin broadened until it radiated good-humor across the swarthy
+visage from cheek-bone to cheek-bone.
+
+"Nice scarabs, lady! Only five _piastres_--only one shilling," he
+spieled. "Scarabs of a dead dynasty. _Tres antique_."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+IN WHICH KINGS AND COMMONERS DISCUSS LOVE
+
+
+In the gardens of the hotel, the paths lay ankle-deep in scattered
+confetti. Already the scores of lights were going out and those that
+remained shone on the wreckage of an entertainment ended.
+
+Cara had gone to her rooms. In his own, at a window commanding the
+garden, Benton sat in an attitude of lethargic dejection, staring down
+on the lingering illuminations. His brain still swirled. A dozen times
+he told himself that matters were precisely as they had been; that the
+developments of the evening had brought no change, save a momentary
+belief in a mistaken rumor and a few wild dreams. When he had waited in
+the rotunda for Cara, he had known Karyl to be living. He knew it now,
+yet it seemed as though his life-rival had died and come again to life.
+It seemed, too, as though his own prison doors had swung open, and while
+he stood on the free threshold had slammed inward upon him, sweeping him
+back, broken and bruised with their clanging momentum.
+
+To-morrow he must go away.
+
+Benton looked at his watch. It was after four o'clock.
+
+Then a knock came on the door. Benton did not respond. He feared that
+young Harcourt, belated and flushed with brandy-acid-soda, might have
+seen the light of his transom and paused for gossip. The thought he
+could not endure. Again he heard and ignored the knock, then the door
+opened slowly, and turning his head, he recognized Karyl on his
+threshold.
+
+Just at that moment the American could not have spoken. He had come to a
+point of pent-up emotion which can move only by breaking dams. He
+pointed to a chair, but Karyl shook his head.
+
+For a while neither spoke. Karyl's hair was rumpled; his eyes darkly
+ringed, and the line of his lips close set. Benton glanced out of his
+window. Across the gardens the wall was growing blanker, as lighted
+panes fell dark. One window, which he knew was Cara's, still showed a
+parallelogram of light behind its drawn shade. Karyl in passing followed
+the glance. He, too, recognized the window.
+
+At last the Galavian spoke.
+
+"Can you spare me a half-hour?"
+
+Benton nodded. He would have preferred any other time. He needed
+opportunity for self-collection.
+
+Again Karyl spoke.
+
+"Benton, I might as well be brief. There are two of us. In this world
+there is room for only one. One of us is an interloper."
+
+The American felt the blood rush to his face; he felt it pound at the
+back of his eyeballs, at the base of his brain. An instinct of fury,
+which was only half-sane, flooded him. Red spots danced before his eyes.
+The other had spoken slowly, almost gently, yet he could read only
+challenge in the words, and the challenge was one he hungered to accept.
+
+He made a tremendous effort for self-mastery and rose slowly, turning a
+white face on his visitor.
+
+"You told me," he said, enunciating each word with distinct
+deliberateness, "that you would fight me, when your throne freed you.
+You begin promptly. I am here, but--"
+
+"I think you misunderstand me," interrupted Karyl.
+
+"But," went on Benton, ignoring the interruption, "neither of us is free
+to fight. If we were, Pagratide, you may guess how gladly I'd put it to
+the issue. Good God, man, what could I lose?"
+
+"Wait," said the late King of Galavia. "I have come here to talk with
+you, Benton, in a way which is unspeakably hard. Can you not make the
+same effort to lay aside passion that I am making?"
+
+The American turned and paced the floor.
+
+For a moment more there was the same embarrassed silence between them,
+then the Galavian continued, measuring his words, speaking with
+desperately studied effort to eliminate the feeling that struggled to
+the surface.
+
+"You love my wife."
+
+"And shall," replied the American in the same calculated, colorless
+voice, "while I live."
+
+"I, too," said Pagratide. "Therefore we must talk."
+
+"Wait." Benton raised a hand. "If we are to talk at all along these
+lines, Pagratide, there is only one way in which it can be done."
+
+"And that is what?"
+
+"That each of us, throughout, talks with only one thought in mind: her
+happiness; that one strip aside all conventions and talk as two utterly
+naked souls might talk."
+
+"Of course," said Karyl simply. "Otherwise I should not have suggested
+it."
+
+"Then," began Benton, "up to this point we are agreed."
+
+The King, despite his pallor, smiled.
+
+"I'm afraid you still don't understand me. I haven't come to murder you,
+or to invite murder, Benton. It would not help."
+
+"You have just said that one of us is an interloper. Presumably you have
+come to decide which one it is."
+
+Karyl shook his head.
+
+"Benton, that point has been decided. Not by you or me, but it is
+decided."
+
+"I don't understand you," admitted the American.
+
+His visitor studied the few remaining lights in the garden beneath.
+
+"I am no longer a King. I am an outcast. If I ever had a claim before
+God, it passed with my Crown. I could hold her now only by brutality. I
+told you I would free her and fight for her, but I saw her eyes
+to-night.... Benton, it is I who am the interloper!"
+
+No answer came to Benton's tongue. Pagratide did not seem to expect one.
+After a moment he went on, with the manner of one who had thought out
+what he was to say, and who compels himself to go through with the
+prepared recital.
+
+"If there is no throne, I must eliminate myself.... But for the time
+being I have given Von Ritz my parole.... The game is not yet quite
+played out.... He and Cara agree that I must play it to the end. After
+that there will be time to remedy mistakes." He paused.
+
+"Pagratide," said the American slowly, "you are talking wildly. At all
+events, while everything impossible has happened to us, I think we can,
+after all shake hands."
+
+Karyl extended his own.
+
+"I have spoken as I have," he went on, "because it was necessary to be
+frank. Meanwhile I must ask you to place me under yet another
+obligation. There is one safe place for her. Will you take us with you
+on the yacht, and cruise in unfrequented ports, until Von Ritz reports
+to me?"
+
+"Where is Von Ritz?"
+
+"Gone back to Alexandria. He still cherishes hopes of a restoration. He
+wishes to return to Galavia."
+
+"Can he return safely?"
+
+Karyl shrugged his shoulders. "His conduct can hardly be construed as a
+political offense. He will be under suspicion, but all Europe would
+resent any injury to Von Ritz."
+
+"The _Isis_ is, of course, at your command."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+In the same rooms where Karyl and his father had often consulted with
+Von Ritz on affairs of state, Louis Delgado sat in conference with a
+foreigner, who had no acknowledged position in the councils of any
+government, yet whose mind and execution had affected many. The
+foreigner was Monsieur Jusseret.
+
+"Why," began the new Monarch testily, "do you believe that there should
+be delay in proclaiming myself? I shall feel safer with the Crown
+actually upon my head."
+
+The Frenchman sat reflectively silent, his slim fingers spread, tip to
+tip, his elbows on the arms of the chair in which he lounged.
+
+"Your Majesty is not a fisherman?" he suavely inquired. Louis rose
+impatiently.
+
+"You know that I have no interest in such sports. Why do you ask?"
+
+"It is unfortunate," mused the Master Intriguer, "since if Your Majesty
+were, you would realize the inadvisability of an effort to land the game
+fish too abruptly when he takes the hook. Your Majesty, however,
+realizes that it is wiser to eat ripe fruit than green fruit."
+
+The King poured himself a glass of wine, which he gulped down nervously.
+
+"You speak in riddles--always in riddles. What is unripe? The blow is
+struck, I am in possession. What is to be gained by waiting?"
+
+Jusseret raised his brows.
+
+"What blow is struck, Your Majesty? You know and I know that you occupy
+the Palace. Europe in general supposes that you have been here for some
+time as the guest of Karyl. Europe does not yet officially know that
+Karyl has vacated the throne. The governments agreed to recognize you,
+but the governments relied upon your adequately disposing of your royal
+kinsman. Yet he is now at large."
+
+The Pretender wheeled suddenly on the calm gentleman sitting indolently
+in his chair. The Pretender's face paled.
+
+"Do you mean, Monsieur Jusseret, that after enticing me into this mad
+enterprise you now purpose to abandon me?" The coward's terror added
+excitement to the questioning voice.
+
+Jusseret smiled.
+
+"By no means," he assured. "But Your Majesty must now play your part. I
+merely counsel holding the reins of government lightly--as Regent--until
+it is logically advisable to grasp them tightly as King. Karyl escaped.
+The man shot proves to be an unknown who had changed coats with the
+King. Ostensibly, His late Majesty is traveling. You are his
+representative. Now, if His Majesty and the Queen should fail to return
+from their journeyings, your position would be stronger."
+
+Louis sank into a chair, deeply agitated. "I fear this man Von Ritz more
+deeply than Karyl."
+
+"Naturally," was Jusseret's dry comment. "But Your Majesty will leave
+Von Ritz alone. I also, should like to see him disposed of--but leave
+him alone, or you will incur Europe's displeasure."
+
+"What shall I do?" The question came in a note of plaintive
+helplessness.
+
+The Frenchman shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"If you ask my counsel, I should say send for one Martin. He has been
+of some service. He is a man of action. He is called the English Jackal.
+I should suggest--" He paused.
+
+"Yes, yes--you would suggest what?" eagerly prompted the new King.
+
+"Really, Your Majesty, you should act more promptly on hints. Diplomats
+cannot diagram their suggestions. I should suggest that the English
+Jackal also travel, with the understanding that if he should return to
+Galavia after the death of the late King and Queen--and that shortly--he
+may expect certain titles and recognition at Court, but if he returns
+before their death, he need expect nothing." Jusseret lighted a
+cigarette.
+
+The Pretender sat silent, frightened, vacillating.
+
+"And," went on Jusseret calmly, "there was one other suggestion which I
+shall make, if Your Majesty will permit me the liberty."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Touching Your Majesty's marriage--"
+
+"Yes--Marie is also in some hurry about that. What is the devilish
+haste? One can be married at any time."
+
+Monsieur Jusseret rose and began drawing on his gloves.
+
+"Of course if Your Majesty sees fit, a morganatic marriage with the
+Countess Astaride would be entirely advisable--but for the Queen of
+Galavia, Europe will insist on a stronger alliance; on a union with more
+royal blood."
+
+Louis came to his feet in astonishment.
+
+"You dare suggest that?" he exclaimed. "You, who have been her ally and
+used her aid!"
+
+"Pardon me--I suggest nothing. I repeat to Your Majesty, as the very
+humble mouthpiece of France, the sentiment of the governments, without
+whose recognition your dynasty can hardly stand."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+ABDUL SAID BEY EFFECTS A RESCUE
+
+
+Martin, tall and aggressively British, from the black silk tassel on his
+red fez to the battered puttees and brown boots that had once come out
+of Bond Street, stood watching the _Isis_ outlined against the opposite
+walls of the Yildiz Kiosk.
+
+Few pleasure-craft call at Constantinople.
+
+"If you had not, as usual, been so damned late"--he turned with a
+gesture of raw impatience to the heavy-faced _Osmanli_ at his side--"I
+could have pointed them out to you on Galata Bridge. As it is, they have
+returned to the yacht."
+
+"May Heaven never again thwart your wish with delay, Martin _Effendi_."
+The Turk spoke placidly, his oily voice soft as a benediction, "I was
+delayed by pigs, and sons of pigs! Your annoyance is my desolating
+sorrow, yet"--he waved his hand with a bland gesture--"I am but the
+servant of His Majesty, the Sultan--whom Allah preserve--and the
+official is frequently detained."
+
+"What is done, is done. _Bismillah_--no matter!" The Englishman curbed
+his annoyance and spoke as one resigned. "What now remains is this: We
+must see them, and you must learn to recognize them. You understand?"
+
+The other bowed in unperturbed assent.
+
+"All Europeans," he suggested, "dine at the Pera Palace Hotel--it is the
+Mecca of their hunger."
+
+To the white man's voice returned the ring of asperity. "And at the Pera
+Palace, we shall not only see, but be seen. Likewise unless we have a
+care in this enterprise, we shall not only eat, but be eaten. A man may
+stare at whom he chooses on Galata Bridge."
+
+"When I dine in a public place"--the _Osmanli_ smiled cunningly from the
+depths of small pig-like eyes--"I shield myself behind a screen. Thus
+may I observe unobserved."
+
+The sun had set, but the yellow after-glow still lingered in the sky
+behind Stamboul as the two men stood looking toward Galata Bridge, where
+their quarry had escaped them, and across the Golden Horn.
+
+A pyramid of domes, flanked by a pair of slender minarets, daintily
+proclaimed the Mosque Yeni-Djami against the fading amber. On Galata
+Bridge itself, the day-long tide of medleyed life was thinning. Where
+there had been an eddying current of turbans and _tarbooshes_,
+bespeaking all the tribes and styles which foregather at the meeting
+place of two Continents and two seas, there were now only the belated
+few.
+
+To the jaded imagination of Martin _Effendi_ and his companion, Abdul
+Said _Bey_, the falling of night over the quadruple city, smothering
+more than a million souls under a single blanket of blackness, made no
+appeal. They were watching a yacht.
+
+Over the Pera roofs swept flocks of crows to roost in their garden
+rookeries at the center of the town. Across the harbor water, now too
+gloomy to reveal its thousands of jelly-fish, drifted the complaining
+cries of the loons. Then as the occasional city lamps began to twinkle,
+making the darkness murkier by their inadequacy, there arose from the
+twisting ways of Pera, Galata and Stamboul the night howling of thirty
+thousand dogs.
+
+At length Martin held up the dial of his watch to the uncertain light.
+
+"I must be off," he announced. "Jusseret is waiting at the Pera Palace.
+Don't fail us at seven-thirty."
+
+The tireless features of Abdul Said _Bey_ once more shaped themselves
+into a deliberate smile. "Of a surety, _Effendi_. May your virtues ever
+find favor in the sight of Allah."
+
+For a moment the pig-like eyes followed the well-knit figure of the
+Englishman as it went swinging along the street. Then the Turk turned
+and lost himself in the darkness.
+
+The Pera Palace Hotel stands in the European quarter of the town. To its
+doors your steps are guided by a trail of shop signs in English, French,
+German and Greek, among which appear only occasional characters in the
+native Arabic.
+
+Almost immediately after Cara, Pagratide and Benton had seated
+themselves in the dining-room that evening, Arab servants secluded a
+corner table, close to their own, behind _mushrabieh_ screens. The party
+for whom this distinguished aloofness had been arranged made its
+entrance through an unseen door, but the voices indicated that several
+were at table there. The waiter who served this table apart might have
+testified that one was an Englishman, wearing in addition to European
+evening dress the native _tarboosh_, or fez. Also, that against his
+white shirt-front glittered the Star of Galavia. The second diner wore
+one of the many elaborate uniforms that signify Ottoman officialdom. His
+eyes were small and pig-like, and as he talked no feature or gesture at
+the table beyond escaped his appraising scrutiny.
+
+There was one other behind the _mushrabieh_ screens. The niceties of his
+dress were Parisian, punctilious, perfect. In his right lapel was the
+unostentatious button of the _Legion d'Honneur_.
+
+The Englishman spoke. "Much of your story, _Monsieur_ Jusseret, is
+familiar to me. It will, however, prove interesting _in toto_, I
+daresay, to our friend Abdul Said _Bey_, whom Allah preserve."
+
+There was a murmur of compliment from the Turk, adding his assurance of
+interest, and the Frenchman took up the thread of his narrative.
+
+"We supposed that Karyl was dead--the Throne of Galavia clear for
+Delgado. Alas, we were in error!" The speaker shook his head in deep
+regret, as, turning to Martin, he added:
+
+"It was a pardonable mistake. Let us hope the announcement was merely
+premature." He lifted his wine-glass with the air of one proposing a
+toast. "It becomes our duty to make that statement true. _Messieurs_,
+our success!"
+
+When the three glasses had been set down, the Englishman questioned:
+"How did it occur?"
+
+In the smooth manner of an after-dinner narrative, Jusseret explained
+the occurrences of the night when he had brought his plans to an almost
+successful termination. He told his story with charm of recital, verve
+and humor, and gave it withal a touch of vivid realism, so that even his
+auditors, long since graduated from the stage where a tale of
+adventurous undertaking thrilled them, yet listened with profound
+interest.
+
+With the salad Jusseret sighed regretfully.
+
+"I rather plume myself on one quality of my work, _Monsieur_ Martin. I
+rarely overlook an integral detail. I, however, find myself growing
+alarmingly faulty of judgment."
+
+"Indeed!" The Englishman was not greatly engrossed in the
+autobiographical phases of Jusseret's diplomatic felonies.
+
+"I regret to acknowledge it, but it is, alas, true. I reflected that the
+world would resent harsh treatment of a man like Von Ritz. He had
+committed no crime. We could not charge treason against a government not
+yet born. I opposed even exile. He immediately rejoined his fleeing
+King--and has since returned to Puntal, where one can only surmise what
+mischief he agitates. It may be as well to consider his future."
+
+"And now," callously supplemented the Englishman, "our new King feels an
+uncertainty of tenure so long as the old King lives, and I am rushed
+after this refugee Monarch with brief instructions to dispose of him."
+
+There was a certain eloquence in the shrug of Jusseret's shoulders.
+"_Messieurs_, we have wrecked Karyl's dynasty, but it still devolves
+upon us in workmanlike fashion to clear away the debris."
+
+Martin leaned forward and put his query like an attorney cross-examining
+a witness.
+
+"Where was this Queen when the King was taken?"
+
+"That," replied Jusseret, "is a question to be put to Von Ritz or
+Karyl. It would appear that Von Ritz suspected the end and, wise as he
+is in the cards of diplomacy, resolved that should his King be taken, he
+would still hold his Queen in reserve. That Kingdom does not hold to the
+Salic Law--a Queen may reign! And so you see, my colleagues," he
+summarized, "we, representing the plans of Europe, find ourselves
+confronted with questions unanswered, and with matters yet to do."
+
+Martin's voice was matter-of-fact. "After all," he observed, "what are
+the odds, where the King was or where the Queen was at a given time in
+the past, so long as we jolly well know where they are to-night?"
+Turning to the Sultan's officer, he spoke rapidly. "You understand what
+is expected?" He pointed one hand to the party from the yacht. "The man
+nearest us is the King who failed to remain dead. That failure is
+curable if you play your game." He paused. "The lady," he added, "has
+the misfortune to have been the Queen of Galavia. You understand, my
+brother?"
+
+The Turk rose, pushing back his chair.
+
+"Your words are illuminating." He spoke with a profound bow. "In serving
+you, I shall bring honor to my children, and my children's children."
+With the Turkish gesture of farewell, his fingers touching heart, lips
+and forehead, he betook himself backward to the door.
+
+Two hours later, alighting from a rickety victoria by the landing-stage,
+Cara made her way between the two men, toward the waiting launch from
+the _Isis_. Filthy looking Arabs, to the number of a dozen, rose out of
+the shadows and crowded about the trio, pleading piteously for
+_backshish_ in the name of Allah. The party found itself forced back
+towards the carriage, and Benton fingered the grip of the revolver in
+his pocket as the other hand held the girl's arm. At the same moment
+there was a sudden clamor of shouting and the patter of running feet.
+Then the throng of beggars dropped back under the pelting blows from
+heavy _naboots_ in the hands of _kavasses_.
+
+An instant later a stout Turk in official uniform broke through the
+confusion, shouting imprecations.
+
+"Back, you children of swine!" he declaimed. "Back to your mires, you
+pigs! Do you dare to affront the great _Pashas_?" Then, turning
+obsequiously, he bowed with profound apology. "It is a bitter sorrow
+that you should be annoyed," he assured them, "but it is over."
+
+"To whom have we the honor of expressing our thanks?" smiled Pagratide.
+
+The _Osmanli_ responded with a deprecating gesture of self-effacement.
+
+"To one of the least of men," he said. "I am called Abdul Said _Bey_. I
+am the humble servant of His Majesty, the Sultan--whom Allah preserve."
+
+As the launch put off, the elliptical figure of Abdul Said _Bey_, on the
+lowest step of the landing, speeded its departure with a gesture of
+ceremonious farewell--fingers sweeping heart, lips and forehead. "If you
+go to shop in Stamboul," he shouted after them, "have a care. The pigs
+will cheat you--all save Mohammed Abbas."
+
+When the reflected lights of the launch shimmered in vague downward
+shafts at a distance, he turned and the scattered throng of beggars
+regathered to group themselves about him with no trace of fear.
+
+"You will know them when you see them in the bazaars?" he demanded. "You
+shall be taught in time what is expected--likewise _bastinadoed_ upon
+your bare soles if you fail. Now you have only to remember the faces of
+the Infidels. Go!" He swept out his hand and the Bedouins scattered like
+rats into a dozen dark places.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+If the panorama of Constantinople fades from a lurid silhouette to a
+sooty monotone by night, it at least makes amends by day. Then the sun,
+shining out of a sky of intense blue, on water vividly green, catches
+the tiled color-chips of the sprawling town; glints on dome and
+minaret, and makes such a city as might be seen in a kaleidoscope.
+
+Her insatiable appetite for beauty had brought Cara on deck early. The
+early shore-wind tossed unruly brown curls into her eyes and across the
+delicate pink of her cheeks.
+
+When the yachtsman joined her, she read in his eyes that he had been
+long awake and was deeply troubled. In the shadow of the after-cabin she
+stopped him with a light touch on his arm.
+
+"Now tell me," she demanded, "what is the matter?"
+
+His voice was quiet. "There is nothing in my thoughts that you cannot
+read--so--" He lifted the eyes in question, half-despairing despite the
+smile he had schooled into them. "Why rehearse it all again?"
+
+Her face clouded.
+
+He turned his gaze on the single dome and four minarets of the Mosque of
+Suleyman.
+
+"Besides," he added at length, speaking in a steady monotone, "I
+couldn't tell it without saying things that are forbidden."
+
+When she spoke the dominant note in her voice was weariness.
+
+"My life," she said, "is a miserable serial of calling on you and
+sending you away. Back there"--she waved her hand to the vague west--"it
+is summer--wonderful American summer! The woods are thick and green....
+The big rocks by the creek are splotched yellow with the sun, and green
+with the moss.... I wonder who rides Spartan now, when the hounds are
+out!" She broke off suddenly, with a sobbing catch in her throat, then
+she shook her head sadly. "You see, you must go!" she added. "You will
+take my heart with you--but that is better than this."
+
+She turned and led the way forward and for the length of the deck he
+walked at her side in silence.
+
+As they halted he demanded, very low; "And you--?"
+
+Her answering smile was pallid as she quoted, "'More than a little
+lonely'--" then, reverting to her old name for him, she laughed with
+counterfeited gayety--"as, Sir Gray Eyes, people must be--who try to be
+good."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+IN A CURIO SHOP IN STAMBOUL.
+
+
+The _muezzin_ had called the devout to their prayer-rugs for the third
+time that day, when the girl and the two men turned from the Stamboul
+end of Galata Bridge into the tawdry confusion of buildings which
+cluster about the Mosque Yeni-Djami. They were bound for the bazaars.
+
+Along the twisting ways stretched the booths of native merchants stocked
+with the thousand fascinating trifles that the City of the Sultan
+markets to the journeying world. Everywhere the crowd surged and
+jostled.
+
+On the side street where the shops are a trifle larger than their
+neighbors, one Mohammed Abbas keeps his curio bazaar. In such flowery
+Orientalism of appeal did he couch his plea for an inspection of his
+wares, that Cara was persuaded and turned into the shop. Cut off by
+pressure of the crowd, Pagratide, who was following, some paces back,
+caught a glimpse of her figure in the door and fought his way to her
+side, but Benton, having stopped to price a bracelet of antique silver
+set with turquoises, lost sight of them. The girl had become interested
+in a quaint, curved dagger thickly studded with semi-precious stones.
+
+Mohammed Abbas urged her to see the rarer and choicer articles which he
+kept in an upper room. As they tailed, a half-dozen natives, swarthy and
+villainous of face, drifted into the shop to be promptly ordered out by
+the proprietor, who used for that purpose a vocabulary of scope and
+vividness. The ruffians retreated after a brief conversation in guttural
+Arabic, but not by the street door through which they had come. Instead,
+they left by a low-arched exit to the rear, concealed from view by the
+angle of the screening stairway. Abbas led his customers to an upper
+room which they found dark except where he lighted it as he went with
+hanging lamps. Its space was generous, broken here and there by piles of
+ebony furniture, inlaid with pearl; pieces of Saracenic armor,
+Damascened bucklers, and all the gear too large for the narrow confines
+below.
+
+Half an hour's searching through the chaos of wares failed to reveal the
+choice daggers which Mohammed wished them to see, and with many
+apologies for added annoyance he begged _Monsieur_ and _Madame_ to mount
+yet another flight, and visit yet another store-room. At the head of
+these stairs they encountered absolute darkness and the shopman, with
+his ever-ready apologies, paused again to light lamps.
+
+As Pagratide's pupils accustomed themselves to the murk he realized that
+this last room was bare except for tapestries hung flat against the
+wall, and that at its farther side narrow slits of light showed along
+the sills of two doors. Turning, he noted the darker shadow of some
+recess in the wall, immediately to his left.
+
+Suddenly Mohammed Abbas closed the door upon the stairs, and sharply
+clapped his hands. In all lands where Allah is worshiped, clapping of
+the hands is a signal of summons. Thrusting his hand into the pocket
+where he had stored an automatic pistol, Karyl found it empty, and
+remembered that on the stairway the merchant had apologized for jostling
+him. Then simultaneously the two opposite doors opened and framed
+against their light a momentary picture of crowding Arabs.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Outside, Benton had been searching. First he had felt only annoyance for
+a chance separation, but when ten minutes of futile wandering had
+lengthened to fifteen, annoyance gave way to fear, and fear to panic. A
+dozen tragic stories of mysterious disappearances in Stamboul crowded
+like nightmares upon his memory. At last, standing bewildered in the
+street, he caught sight of a familiar figure; a figure that filled him
+with astonishment and delight.
+
+Colonel Von Ritz had left Cairo to return to Puntal. Now here he was in
+a crooked Stamboul street, appearing without warning, but with his
+almost uncanny faculty for being at the right spot when needed. He
+shouldered his way to the side of the officer.
+
+Though the two men had parted several weeks before, the Galavian greeted
+the other only with a formal bow, and an abrupt question. "Where are
+they?"
+
+"I have lost them," replied Benton. He rapidly sketched the events of
+the last half-hour, and confessed his own apprehensions.
+
+With evidence of neither anxiety nor interest, Von Ritz listened, and
+replied with a second question. "Have you seen Martin?"
+
+Benton gave a palpable start. "Martin!" he ejaculated. "Is Martin in
+Constantinople?"
+
+For reply Von Ritz permitted himself the rare indulgence of a smile.
+
+"Martin is here," he said briefly.
+
+"And you--?"
+
+As he spoke the figure of Martin himself emerged from a shop a few paces
+ahead, and without a backward glance cut diagonally across the narrow
+street to disappear into the doorway of the curio shop which is kept by
+Mohammed Abbas.
+
+When, after being cut off and delayed for some minutes by a passing
+donkey train, Von Ritz and Benton entered the place, they found it empty
+except for a native salesman, but as the Galavian paused to make a
+trivial purchase his listening ear caught a sound above. Without
+hesitation, he wheeled and mounted the stairs with Benton close at his
+heels. Behind him the shop-clerk stood irresolute--taken aback, with a
+vague consciousness that he should have devised a way to stop this
+gigantic Infidel. Assuredly the master would be angry. Orders had been
+explicitly given to allow no one to climb those steps to-day without
+permission.
+
+While Cara and Karyl had been on the second floor, a heavy _Osmanli_,
+wearing the Sultan's uniform, had stood in the center of the room above,
+looking about with keen, pig-like eyes, as he gave rapid commands to a
+half dozen Arabs of villainous visage.
+
+"You, Sayed Ayoub," he ordered, "take your pig of a self and others like
+unto you into that doorway by the stairs. Remain until you hear men
+enter from these two doors, facing the Infidel dogs. Then come upon them
+from behind. The man is to be bound, and when evening comes--but that is
+later! Still, if he resists too much--" The speaker shrugged his heavy
+shoulders and made a certain gesture.
+
+"And the woman? What of her?" The question came from a gigantic Bedouin
+whose evil countenance was made the more sinister by one closed and
+empty eye-socket.
+
+Abdul Said _Bey_ nodded. "She is to be tenderly handled," he enjoined.
+"She, also, must disappear, but that shall be my care. My harem is as
+silent as the Bosphorus."
+
+There were steps on the stairs, and instantaneously the room emptied
+itself and became silently dark.
+
+When Karyl heard the hand-clapping of the decoy shopman, and saw the
+responding ruffians in the opposite doors, he swiftly thrust the girl
+into the spot of blacker shadow at his back, and seized the wrist of
+Mohammed Abbas with a force and suddenness that wrung from him a piteous
+wail.
+
+Keeping the Turk before him, he backed toward the shadowed recess, with
+the one idea of shielding Cara. But the darker spot was the door behind
+which Sayed Ayoub lay in ambuscade, and as Karyl reached it, it swung
+open, showing them against a background as bright as though they were
+painted on yellow canvas.
+
+With his free arm he swept Cara into the doorway, wheeling quickly in
+front of her, and sent Mohammed Abbas lurching forward into the faces of
+the assailants led by Sayed Ayoub. Instantly, however, his arms were
+pinioned from behind by the reenforcements, and as he frantically
+struggled to turn his face, in an effort to see the girl, some thick
+fabric fell over his head, covering mouth and eyes, and he went down
+stifled and garroted into insensibility.
+
+Seeing the man overwhelmed and dragged through the door, Cara stood
+rigidly upright, white in the intensity of voiceless outrage, until the
+gigantic brute with one sightless eye and a greasy _tarboosh_ reached
+out his grimy hand and seized her. Then she sickened at the profaning
+shock of his touch, and fell unconscious.
+
+A few moments later the "English Jackal" stood nonchalantly looking down
+at the bound figure of the former King lying on the floor, shoulders
+propped against the wall, head wrapped in a richly embroidered shawl
+from Persia. Lamps had been kindled. The head wrappings had already been
+somewhat loosened and Karyl was stirring with the indication of
+returning consciousness.
+
+"Oh, damn it!" remarked Martin in disgust. "He doesn't need to be both
+trussed up and gagged, you know. He's quite safe. Take off the head
+cloths."
+
+He stuffed tobacco into his blunt bull-dog pipe as he supervised the
+undoing of the smothering fabric and complacently looked at his
+prisoner.
+
+Freed from the bandage, and drinking in again reviving breaths, Karyl
+awoke to the sense of his surroundings. His eyes at once swept the place
+for Cara, but he saw only the closed door of the room where she was
+detained.
+
+Martin looked down and as their eyes met he casually nodded.
+
+"Sorry to inconvenience you," he commented affably, "but this is
+politics, you know. I happen to work for the other chap, King Louis." As
+an afterthought he added: "And the other chap thinks that you are, to
+put it quite civilly, unnecessary."
+
+He smoked meditatively, while Karyl, without reply, scowled up into his
+face. The sense of futility left Pagratide silent. He lay insanely
+furious like a trapped wolf, able only to glare.
+
+Suddenly the complacency deserted the Englishman's features, for a
+startled expression. With a violent malediction he bent forward
+listening.
+
+Karyl's ears also caught the sound of feet on the stairs, immediately
+followed by a crash upon the door.
+
+Martin drew a heavy revolver from a holster under his coat, and his
+voice ripped out orders with the sharp decision which had survived the
+days when he wore a British uniform. "Here, you beggars," he shouted,
+"to that door!"
+
+As the Bedouins swarmed forward there came a second crash under which
+the panels fell in, precipitating Von Ritz and Benton into a fierce
+swarm of human hornets.
+
+Falling desperately upon the newcomers with swords, knives and
+_naboots_, the bravos afforded them no time to take breath after their
+climb of the stairs.
+
+Martin, standing with his pipe clamped between his teeth, took no part
+in the onslaught. He cast a glance at the turmoil, then deliberately
+cocked his weapon and leveled it at the breast of his captive.
+
+Karyl realized that the Jackal was not to be led away from his single
+purpose: that of execution. If he himself were to speak to his rescuers,
+he must do it quickly. He raised his voice.
+
+"Von Ritz! To that door!" he shouted loudly, but the Galavian and his
+companion, fighting desperately to hold their own, with the shouts and
+clamor of the struggling Moslems in their ears, did not hear, and the
+Englishman only smiled.
+
+"They are quite busy, you know," he drawled in a half-apologetic tone.
+"Give them a bit of time."
+
+Von Ritz was fighting with the blade of his sword-cane, while Benton,
+too closely pressed to make use of his pistol, was relying upon his
+fists. Indeed, the two white men owed their lives to the crowding which
+made effective fighting impossible on either side.
+
+At last the Turks gave back a few steps for a fresh rush and Benton,
+taking instant advantage of the widened space, fired into the crowd.
+They turned in terror at the first report and went stampeding to the
+several doors. Then for the first time the rescuers caught sight of the
+Englishman standing guard over the bound figure on the floor.
+
+With the grim smile of one who, recognizing the end, neither flinches
+nor dallies, Martin fired two shots from his leveled revolver.
+
+A half-second too late Benton's magazine pistol ripped out in a frenzied
+series of spats. The Englishman swayed slightly, his face crimson with
+blood, then, propping himself weakly against the wall, he fired one
+ineffectual shot in reply. Slowly wilting at waist and knees, his figure
+slipped to the floor and lay shapelessly huddled near that of Karyl. The
+stench of powder filled the room. Twisting spirals of smoke curled
+ceilingward.
+
+Von Ritz and Benton, kneeling at the King's side, raised him from the
+floor. The wounded man attempted to speak. His eyes turned inquiringly
+toward the door of the other room. Benton caught the questioning look
+and nodded his head. Then Karyl settled back against the officer's
+supporting shoulder after the fashion of a reassured child.
+
+"The King is dead," said Colonel Von Ritz quietly. There was something
+very pathetic in the steady despair of his voice.
+
+A door opened, and several Bedouins retreated shame-faced and cowed
+before a heavy Turk who wore the Sultan's uniform. His small, pig-like
+eyes blazed with terrifying wrath. Looking about the room for a moment,
+he volcanically reviled them.
+
+"You dogs! You pigs! You serpents!" he shrieked. "Your hearts shall be
+thrown to the buzzards! Your children dishonored! You have dared to
+attack the foreign _Pashas_, and you--Mohammed Abbas--!" The shopkeeper
+fell trembling to his knees. "Your filthy shop shall be pulled down
+about your ears. You make it a trap--your feet shall be _bastinadoed_
+until you are a cripple for life!" Then his rage choked him, and,
+wheeling, he walked over to Benton, contemptuously kicking the prostrate
+body of Martin _Effendi_ as he went.
+
+From every pore Abdul Said _Bey_ exuded sympathy and commiseration.
+Scenting liberal _backshish_, he promised absolute secrecy for the
+affair, coupled with soothing assurances of private vengeance upon the
+surviving miscreants. Also, he bewailed the disgrace which had fallen
+upon the Empire by reason of such infamy. He presumed that the foreign
+gentlemen preferred secret punishment of the malefactors to a public
+sensation. It should be so.
+
+In his anxiety for Cara, Benton left Von Ritz to adjust matters with the
+Turk, who with profound courtesy and amazing promptness had closed
+carriages at a rear door, and caused his _kavasses_ to clear the
+alley-way of prying eyes.
+
+When the American reached the room where Cara had been left it was
+deserted by the assassin's guards. With a sudden stopping of his heart,
+he saw her lying apparently lifeless on a stacked-up pile of rugs. In a
+terror that he scarcely dared to investigate, he laid his ear hesitantly
+to her breast, then, reassured, he gave thanks for the anesthetic of
+unconsciousness with which nature had blinded her to the tragedy beyond
+the closed door.
+
+Two curtained carriages drove across Galata Bridge and in the mysterious
+quiet of Stamboul there was no ripple on the surface of affairs as other
+tourists haggled over a few _piastres_ in the curio shops of the
+bazaar.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+BENTON SAYS GOOD-BY
+
+
+Louis Delgado awaited Jusseret in an agony of doubt and fear.
+
+The Frenchman was late. A dispatch from the frontier had announced his
+coming, but to the anxiety of Delgado delays seemed numberless and
+interminable.
+
+At last an aide ushered him into the apartment where the new Monarch
+waited, his inevitable glass of Pernod and anisette twisting in his
+fingers. Jusseret bowed.
+
+"Where is Martin?" inquired the King.
+
+"Dead," said the newcomer briefly. The Pretender paled palpably.
+Evidently the plan had gone awry. Fear always stood near the fore, ready
+to rush out upon Delgado's timid spirit.
+
+"And being dead," resumed the Frenchman, "he is much safer."
+
+Louis gave a half-shuddering sigh of relief. He had none of that
+righteous horror of crime which makes the face of murder hideous, but in
+its place he had all the terrors of the weak, and playing with life and
+death gave him over to panic.
+
+"I should suggest an announcement that King Karyl had fled for a time
+from the cares of State and was traveling as a private gentleman in
+strictest incognito, when sudden death overtook him. There need be no
+hint of violence. There must be a State funeral."
+
+"Where is the body?" objected Louis.
+
+Jusseret shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"That I cannot say. I can, however, assure you that it is quite
+lifeless. Since the death occurred some days ago the lying in State may
+be dispensed with. A closed casket is sufficient."
+
+"And his Queen?"
+
+"That point is left unguarded, but from intimations I have received, I
+believe the Queen will be satisfied with private life. If you announce
+her abdication, she will hardly contradict you."
+
+"And Von Ritz?" persisted Louis, with the manner of one who wishes all
+the ghosts which terrify him laid by someone stronger and less afraid of
+ghosts than himself.
+
+"Leave Von Ritz to me. He is no fool. Von Ritz knows who instigated the
+murder of the King, but he is without proof. The thing happened far
+beyond the borders of Galavia."
+
+Louis rose unsteadily from his chair.
+
+"Jusseret," he began, "this interview with Marie still confronts me and
+I dread it. Would it not be better for you to explain to her? You could
+persuade her that Kings are not free in these matters, that crowned
+heads from antiquity to Napoleon have been compelled to obey the
+dictates of State."
+
+The Frenchman stiffened.
+
+"Your Majesty," he observed, "it is impossible. Your attachment for the
+Countess Astaride is a personal matter. I am concerned only in affairs
+of State. I must even require of you, in respect to that confidence
+which obtains between gentlemen, that you shall in no wise intimate that
+this suggestion came from me."
+
+The new incumbent, who had brought to the Throne of Galavia all the
+libertine's irresoluteness, paced the floor in perplexed distress. He
+feared Jusseret. He dared not anger or disobey him. It appeared that
+being a King was not what he had conceived it, as he sat under the
+chestnut trees of the Paris boulevards and listened to the band.
+
+When Jusseret had left him to his thoughts he paused three times with a
+tremulous finger on the call-bell, unable to command the courage
+required to send a message to the Countess Astaride. Finally he
+succeeded and five minutes later stood shamefacedly in the presence of
+the woman who had made him King. She was more than usually beautiful,
+and as always her beauty and personality dominated him, swayed his
+senses like music. It was so easy to slip into the impetuous attitude
+of the lover; so difficult to maintain the austere one of the Monarch.
+
+Delgado nerved himself and began.
+
+How he said it or what he said, he did not himself know when the words
+had been spoken. He rushed through the speech he had prepared like a
+frightened child at recitation and waited for the outburst of her anger.
+He waited in vain.
+
+Marie Astaride had plotted, had consented to every infamy which had been
+suggested as necessary to bring the man she loved to the Crown.
+
+Now she was silent.
+
+The man looked up when he had waited a seeming century for the expected
+torrent of reproach.
+
+She was standing supporting herself upon her downward stretched arms,
+her hands resting on the table. Her face was pallid and her magnificent
+figure rigid. The scarlet fullness of her lips had gone bloodless. Her
+eyes were stupefied.
+
+At length she straightened herself, let go her support upon the table
+and went slowly like a sleep-walker from the room. She had not spoken.
+She had not said good-by, but Louis Delgado knew that she had walked out
+of his life.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+That evening Monsieur Jusseret of the French _Cabinet Noir_ met, as if
+by chance, young Lieutenant Lapas, who was now high in the favor of the
+new government. Jusseret knew that the lure which had drawn young Lapas
+away from the confidence of Karyl to the uncertain standard of Delgado
+had been the influence of the Countess Astaride. He knew that Lapas
+loved her hopelessly, willing even in her name to serve the greater man
+who loved her more successfully. His attachment was that of the boy for
+the woman who is mistress of all the mature arts of charm. This love
+could be turned into the fanatic's zeal; this boy could be led to the
+extreme of martyrdom, if the strings of his characterless nature were
+played upon with a skill sufficiently consummate. Jusseret knew also a
+number of other things. He knew that whereas he had, to all seeming,
+brought a difficult task to completion, he was in reality not yet half
+through. His own vision went farther into the future, and recognized in
+the present only a mile-post far from the ultimate.
+
+He led Lapas to his own rooms. He was leaving for Paris the following
+morning, he explained, and wished a brief conference.
+
+Jusseret could, when occasion demanded, be not only calm and
+self-sufficient, but also emotional. Now he was emotional.
+
+"Rarely, indeed," he began, "do I permit personal indignation to excite
+me. But this is so unspeakable that I wished to talk to you. You enjoy
+the confidence of the Countess Astaride?"
+
+"Only in a humble way," confessed young Lapas.
+
+"But you are her friend? If she were wronged and had no other defender,
+you would assume her cause?"
+
+"With my life," protested the officer, fervently.
+
+"This matter," said Jusseret dubiously, "might cost you your life.
+Possibly I should not tell you. As a politician I can have nothing to do
+with it, but as a man, I wish I were myself free to act."
+
+"Who has offended the Countess?" demanded Lapas hotly.
+
+"Offended, my young friend! This is not an offense. It is the gravest
+indignity that can be shown a woman. It is an insult to which a man must
+either blind himself--or punish with such means as can ignore personal
+peril."
+
+"For God's sake," insisted the other, "explain yourself."
+
+"Louis Delgado," began Jusseret quietly, "accepted this woman's love:
+enjoyed it to the full. He sat and dreamed over his absinthe futile
+dreams of power. He was too weak to strike a blow--too weak to raise a
+hand. Then she took up his cause; intrigued, enlisted our interests,
+raised his supine and powerless ambitions to a throne. There he abandons
+her at the foot of the stairs by which he mounted; and refuses her his
+Crown. He talks now of a more Royal alliance." Jusseret spread his hands
+in a gesture of disgust.
+
+Lapas rose tensely from his chair. The veins on his temples stood out
+corded and deep-lined.
+
+"This cannot be true, sir," he argued. "There must be some error. You
+wrong the King."
+
+"Am I the man to wrong Louis?" questioned the Frenchman. "You have only
+to wait and see for yourself. The matter rests with you. She and I have
+put Louis on the throne. So much I did as the servant of my government.
+What I say to you I say as a man, and I had rather behold all my work
+undone than to stand by and see it bear such fruit. Adieu."
+
+He rose slowly and took his departure. Outside, he smiled.
+
+"I fancy," he told himself, "he will go to the Countess. I fancy she
+will corroborate me--and then--!" He dismissed the matter with his
+habitual shrug.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Two weeks had passed since the tragedy in Stamboul, and the _Isis_
+cruised aimlessly westward. The Mediterranean stretched to the horizon,
+so placid that the froth from the wake washed languidly, almost
+lifelessly, on the surface, and a single cloud hung stationary in the
+softer blue of the sky. Wrapped in a steamer rug, her figure, more
+slender in the simple lines of her black gown, Cara sat gazing toward
+the receding coast-line of Malta. So she had spent most of the hours
+since they had weighed anchor at Constantinople. On the deck at her feet
+sat Benton.
+
+At Piraeus Von Ritz had secured a copy of the _Figaro_ several days old,
+and the men had read its report of the Regency of Louis in Puntal. Then
+the yacht had called at Malta where the gray fortresses of Valetta frown
+out to sea, and Von Ritz had once more gone in quest of news.
+
+That had been yesterday. By common consent the two men refrained from
+allusions to State matters in the girl's presence. Now the former
+adviser of the King uneasily paced the deck. Over his usually
+sphinx-like face brooded the troubled expression of one who confronts an
+unwelcome necessity. Suddenly he halted before the girl's deck-chair,
+and, schooling his voice with an apparent effort, spoke in his old-time
+even modulation, but for once he found it difficult to meet the eyes of
+the person he addressed.
+
+"We have heretofore not spoken of things which we would all give many
+years of life to forget," he began. Then he added with feeling: "Only
+the sternest necessity could force me to do so now."
+
+As he paused for permission to continue, the girl raised her eyes with a
+sad smile that had grown habitual.
+
+"I have come," said Von Ritz, "to stand for an implacable Nemesis to
+you, and yet I should wish to be identified only with happiness in your
+thoughts. To me one thing always comes first. The House of Galavia is my
+gospel; has been my gospel since Karyl's father mounted its throne." He
+paused and added gravely: "Louis Delgado has reaped his reward--he is
+dead."
+
+Benton's voice broke out in an explosive "Thank God!"
+
+Von Ritz stood a moment silent, then, dropping to one knee, he took the
+fingers which fell listlessly over the arm of Cara's steamer-chair and
+raised them to his lips.
+
+"Your Majesty is Queen of Galavia."
+
+The American came to his feet, his hands clenched, but with quick
+self-mastery he stood back, breathing heavily.
+
+Cara sat for a moment only half-comprehending, then with a low moan she
+leaned forward and covered her face with both hands.
+
+"Forgive me," said Von Ritz. "I _am_ your Nemesis."
+
+Benton moved over silently and knelt beside her chair. Neither spoke,
+but at last she raised her face and sat looking out at the water, then
+slowly one hand came out gropingly toward the American and both of his
+own closed over it. Von Ritz stood waiting.
+
+When finally she spoke, her voice was almost childlike, full of
+pleading.
+
+"I thought," she said, "that all that was over. I had thought that
+whatever is left of life belonged just to me--for my very own. I thought
+I could take it away and try to mend it."
+
+Von Ritz turned his head and his eyes traveled northward and westward,
+where, somewhere beyond the horizon, lay his country.
+
+"Galavia needs you," he said with grave simplicity. "Unless you come to
+her aid there must be ruin and dismemberment. You will save your
+country."
+
+But his words appeared to convert all her crushed and pathetic misery
+into anger. "It is not my country!" she replied almost fiercely. "To me
+it means only--"
+
+Von Ritz raised his hand supplicatingly. "It is my country," he said
+sadly, "and--your duty. Its fate is in your hands."
+
+The girl rose, swayed slightly, and putting out one hand for support,
+stood with her black-gowned figure sketched slenderly against the white
+of the cabin wall, her eyes irresolute and distressed.
+
+"I must have time to think," she begged. "Will you leave me?" Von Ritz
+bowed and retired.
+
+She dropped exhaustedly into the chair again and for a long while sat
+silent. Finally she turned toward the man who, kneeling by her side,
+waited for her decision through what seemed decades of suspense, and her
+hands went out gropingly again toward him.
+
+"Dear," she said in a voice hardly more than a whisper, "whatever I
+do--whatever I decide--always and always I love you!" Impulsively her
+fingers clutched at his, which rested clenched on her arm-chair.
+
+"You must go!" she said, after a long while. "With you here there is
+nothing else in the world. I can see only you." With a catch in her
+voice she rushed on. "You must not only go, but I must not know where
+you go. I must not be able to call you back. You must give me your word
+of honor."
+
+He attempted to speak, but she tightened her hold on his hands and her
+hurried utterance checked his words.
+
+"No!" she said. "Listen! This time I decide forever. I must decide
+alone. You must not only be out of my sight, but beyond recall. Three
+months from to-day I shall write to you, but until then I must not know
+your address. Three months from to-day you may be at 'Idle Times,' where
+I first told you I loved you ... where we told each other ... if you
+still wish to be. Then, if I decide that I am free, you will find my
+letter there. If I'm not free, I had better not even write. I couldn't
+write without calling you back. If I have to decide that way--" She
+broke off with a shudder. "Oh, you must go--Dear!--you must go
+quickly--! It is the only way you can help me."
+
+A half-hour later, Benton turned to the approaching Von Ritz.
+
+"Colonel," he said steadily, "I sail for San Francisco by way of Suez
+from the first port we reach. You will favor me by accepting the _Isis_
+as long as Her Majesty can use it."
+
+Von Ritz met his eyes in silence and held out his hand.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+JUSSERET MAKES A REPORT
+
+
+In Paris a small party of gentlemen, among whom were represented all the
+national types of Southern Europe, were engaged in an informal
+discussion of very formal affairs. They occupied a private suite in the
+Hotel Ritz overlooking the column of the _Place Vendome_. Upon a table
+swept clean of draperies and bric-a-brac lay an outstretched map of the
+Mediterranean littoral, whereon a small peninsula had been marked with
+certain experimental and revised boundaries in red and blue and black.
+The atmosphere was thick with the smoke from cigars and cigarettes, and
+through the veneering amenities of much courtesy the gentlemen of
+Europe's _Cabinets Noirs_ wrangled with insistence. Finally Monsieur
+Jusseret took the floor, and the others dropped respectfully into an
+attitude of listening.
+
+"It is hardly necessary," he began, "to discuss what has been done in
+Galavia. That is long since a stale story. Our governments, acting in
+concert, made it possible to remove Karyl and crown Louis." He smiled
+quietly. "You know how short a reign Louis enjoyed before death claimed
+him. Perhaps you do not know that his death was not unforeseen by me."
+
+There was an outburst of exclamations under which France's
+representative remained unmoved.
+
+"Our object," he explained coldly, "was the disruption of Galavia's
+integrity. In reducing this Kingdom to a province, the supplanting of
+Karyl with Louis was essential only as an initial step. The instability
+of that government had to be demonstrated to the world by more
+continuous disorders. It was necessary to show that the Kingdom had
+become incapable of self-rule. It followed that the removal of Louis was
+equally natural--and imperative."
+
+Don Alphonso Rodriguez, bearing the secret credentials of Spain, came to
+his feet with the hauteur of offended dignity.
+
+"My government" he said, with austere deliberation, "had the right to
+know what matters were being transacted. France appears to have assumed
+exclusive control. Is it too late to inquire of France"--he bent a
+chilling frown upon the smiling Jusseret--"what she now purposes? It
+appears that Spain knew no more than the newspapers. Spain also believed
+that Louis died by his own hand, and artlessly assumed the motive of
+disappointment in his love for Marie Astaride. We believed we were being
+frankly informed."
+
+The more accomplished diplomat lifted brows and hands in a deprecating
+gesture. "_Mon ami_," he responded with suavity, "you flatter me. What I
+have done is nothing. I have only paved the way. Quite possibly Louis
+did kill himself. If so it was a meritorious act, but whether he did so
+or whether some mad young officer, infatuated and jealous, was the real
+author of the result, the result stands--and meets our requirements.
+France does not care what flag flies over the Governor-General's Palace
+in Puntal, provided it be the flag of a nation in concert with France.
+France suggests that the Governor-General should be a Galavian, and
+points to the one man conspicuously capable--who happens to be," he
+added with an amused laugh, "my particular enemy."
+
+"You mean Von Ritz?" The question came from Italy's delegate.
+
+Jusseret bowed his head. "Von Ritz," he affirmed.
+
+Don Alphonso Rodriguez laughed with a note of incredulity. "And how do
+you propose," he demanded, "to persuade this loyal adviser of Karyl to
+accept a deputyship at the hands of Karyl's enemies?"
+
+Again Jusseret smiled. "It will be Von Ritz or a foreigner," he
+explained. "We must convince him that his beloved Kingdom can henceforth
+be only a province in any event--that it may prosper under his guidance
+or suffer under a more oppressive hand. That done, his patriotism will
+prove our ally. We have only to convince him that no member of Karyl's
+house can reign and live--and that it must be himself or an alien."
+
+"It would have been as easy," demurred the Portuguese delegate, "to have
+persuaded Von Ritz that Karyl himself should abdicate."
+
+Jusseret felt the hostility of the other members. In spite of the
+realization, or perhaps because of it, he glanced from face to face with
+unruffled urbanity.
+
+"_Messieurs_," he suggested, "you overlook the hypotheses--and in
+reaching conclusions hypotheses are serviceable. You, gentlemen," he
+continued blandly, "regarded the initial steps as impracticable. What I
+volunteered to do, I have so far done. We have one object. The insatiate
+ambition of that nation, which we need not name, must not gain
+additional Mediterranean foothold. Spain or Portugal, it is one to us,
+may decide the matter of suzerainty between themselves."
+
+"How do you mean to persuade Von Ritz?" insisted Don Alphonso.
+
+"In the young Queen, who is the sole eligible candidate for the Throne,
+we have at heart an unwilling heir. Von Ritz distrusts France. Let the
+suggestion come from Portugal, a friend who can speak persuasively--and
+convincingly. Let him see the inevitable result unless he consents. Let
+all which we have done be denounced. Lead him to believe that he holds
+as steward"--Jusseret raised his hands as he concluded--"for Karyl's
+heir, if there should be one. These things are mere details."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Benton worked his way slowly to San Francisco through the Far East. It
+is not difficult to avoid newspapers between Ismailia and Manila, and
+with the dogged determination to let the day set by Cara answer all
+questions of his future, he had neither sought nor received tidings from
+Galavia.
+
+He had not permitted himself great indulgence in hope. The past months
+had brought too many disappointments, and he knew that they had all been
+but episodes leading up to the climax which must come with the day when
+he inquired for a letter at "Idle Times."
+
+He dreaded a return to "Idle Times" before the day set for his inquiry.
+Bristow's place stood for too much of memory, and the inevitable
+questions of his friend loomed before him, as the trifle which a man who
+has stood much more than trifles cannot bring himself to face. Yet there
+was no danger of his being late. That time was the one fixed point on
+the calendar of his future. One day before his three months had come to
+an end, he arrived, but he did not go to Van Bristow's house. He did
+not announce his coming. He went by the less frequented streets of the
+near-by village to its inadequate hotel, where he found only a drummer
+for a New York shoe house and a gentleman traveling "out of Chicago"
+with samples of ready-made clothing.
+
+For a time he sat in the dingy parlor of the place and listened to the
+jarring talk of the commercial travelers. Already Galavia and the months
+which had been, seemed receding into an improbable dream, but the misery
+of their bequeathing was poignantly real.
+
+He rose impatiently and made his way to the livery-stable, where he
+hired a saddle horse. His idea was merely to be alone. The reins hung on
+the neck of his spiritless mount and the roads he went were the roads it
+took of its own unguided selection.
+
+Suddenly Benton looked up. He was in a lane between overarching trees; a
+lane which he remembered. Off to the side were the hills bristling with
+pines, raised against the sky like the lances of marching troops. It was
+the road he had ridden with her on that day when her horse fell at the
+fence--and there, on the side of the hill, stood a dilapidated cabin:
+the cabin upon whose porch he had poured water over her hands from a
+gourd dipper.
+
+It was only the end of September, but an early frost had flushed the
+woods and hillsides into a hint of the crimson and gold they were soon
+to wear in more profligate splendor. The fragrant, blue mist of wood
+smoke drifted over the fields at the foot of the knobs. The hills were
+seen through a wash of purple. From somewhere to the far left drifted
+the mellowed music of fox-hounds. Riding slowly, the man came at length
+to the cabin gate.
+
+The same farmer sat as indolently now as then, on the top step. The
+setter dog started up to growl as the horseman dismounted.
+
+The man did not recognize him, but the proffer of Benton's cigar-case
+proved a sufficient credential, and a discussion of the weather appeared
+a satisfactory reason for remaining. It was only a verbal and logical
+step from weather to crops, and in ten minutes the visitor was being
+shown over the place. When the round of cribs and stables was completed
+it was time for the host to feed his stock, and, saying good-by at the
+barn, he left Benton to make his way alone to the cabin. Passing through
+the house from the back, the man halted suddenly and with abrupt
+wonderment at the front door.
+
+For upright and slim, with a small gauntleted hand resting on one of the
+rude posts of the porch, gazing off intently into the coloring west,
+stood an unmistakable figure in a black riding habit. Incredulous,
+suddenly stunned under the cumulative suspense of the past three
+months, he stood hesitant. Then the figure slowly turned and, as the old
+heart-breaking, heart-recompensing smile came to her lips and eyes, the
+girl silently held out both arms to him.
+
+Finally he found time to ask: "How long have you been here?"
+
+"Six weeks," she answered. "And it's been lonesome."
+
+"Your answer, Cara," he whispered. "What is your answer?"
+
+"I am here," she said. "Don't you see me? I'm the answer."
+
+
+                          THE END
+
+             *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+                        BIOGRAPHIES
+
+
+             *       *       *       *       *
+
+                    TWO POPULAR AUTHORS
+
+                             &
+
+                    SOMETHING ABOUT THEM
+
+             *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+[Illustration: Charles Neville Buck]
+
+
+
+
+CHARLES NEVILLE BUCK
+
+
+Though still a young man--he has only just passed his thirtieth
+year--Charles Neville Buck, the author of "The Lighted Match," has
+travelled far and done much. Although it was as late as January, 1909,
+that he first settled down to write for the magazines, he has made
+already an established reputation as a short story writer, and promises
+to make an even greater name as a novelist. His first novel, "The Key to
+Yesterday," was one of the successes of the last publishing season, and
+we shall be greatly surprised if "The Lighted Match" does not prove
+still more popular.
+
+Born in Louisville, Ky., he visited South America with his father, the
+Hon. C. W. Buck, United States Minister to Peru. Since then he has
+travelled in Europe, covering the ground where he places the scenes in
+"The Key to Yesterday" and "The Lighted Match."
+
+After graduation, Mr. Buck studied art, and for a year was the chief
+cartoonist on Louisville's leading daily paper. He then turned to
+editorial and reportorial work, which brought him into close contact
+with Kentucky politics and the mountain feuds. In 1902, while still a
+reporter, he was admitted to the Bar, but never practised.
+
+Successful as he is at the short story, it is in the novel that Mr. Buck
+does his finest work. The novel rather than the short story gives scope
+for those little touches which make for style and atmosphere, and it is
+at these that Mr. Buck peculiarly excels. The vivid interest of his
+plots is apt to blind the reader to this merit, for Mr. Buck's novels
+have what some consider the only virtue of a novel, that they can be
+read for the story alone; but it is there, nevertheless, and for some
+constitutes the greatest charm of his work. In "The Lighted Match," even
+more than in "The Key to Yesterday," is this artistic finish noticeable.
+"The Lighted Match" is not only a bully good story, it is literature as
+well.
+
+
+[Illustration: P. G. Wodehouse]
+
+
+
+
+PELHAM GRANVILLE WODEHOUSE
+
+
+During the past year a phrase has been frequently heard among magazine
+and book men in New York when the name of Pelham Granville Wodehouse has
+been mentioned. This phrase is "the logical successor to O. Henry"--and
+it is misleading. Any humorist who tried to follow in the tracks of O.
+Henry would be merely an imitator and the task would be as unwise as
+though O. Henry had cramped his own freedom in an effort to walk in the
+footprints of Mark Twain or any other predecessor in the field of humor.
+
+Wodehouse suggests O. Henry only in that he has suddenly come into
+universal recognition as a remarkable humorist. He wields a pen which
+commands an uncommon power of satire, without the suggestion of vitriol
+or bitterness. His humor has a sparkle, effervescence and spontaneity
+which has put him in an incredibly short time in the front rank of
+writers, and since the materialistic barometer at least records the
+opinion of the editors and since the editors are supposed to know, has
+brought him into that envied coterie whose rate per word in the
+magazines has soared skyward.
+
+P. G. Wodehouse was born in Guildford, England, in 1881, and while still
+an infant he accompanied his parents to Hong Kong, where the elder
+Wodehouse was a judge. He is a cousin of the Earl of Kimberley. In his
+school days he went in for cricket, football and boxing, and made for
+himself a reputation in athletics.
+
+For two years Mr. Wodehouse went into a London bank and observed the
+passing parade from a high stool, but this was not quite in keeping with
+his tastes, and we find him next publishing a column of humorous
+paragraphs in the _London Globe_, under the head of "By the Way." Later
+he assumed the editorship of this department, and many of his paragraphs
+lived longer than the few hours' existence of most newspaper humor. Also
+since all writers experimentally venture into the dramatic, he wrote
+several vaudeville sketches which have had popular English productions.
+
+Three years ago P. G. Wodehouse came to New York. He liked the American
+field and wanted to see whether his humor would strike the American
+fancy. It struck. Mr. Wodehouse had tried his wings here only a few
+months when magazine editors were bidding for his manuscripts. His
+short stories have appeared generally in the magazines, and while one
+often finds the delightful touch of pathos, there is always an abundance
+of laughter. In _Cosmopolitan, Collier's Weekly, Ainslee's_, and many
+other publications these stories appear as often as Mr. Wodehouse will
+contribute.
+
+His novel, "The Intrusion of Jimmy," last year was a decided success. In
+it Mr. Wodehouse demonstrated his ability to hold his sprinting speed
+over a Marathon distance. The book, after giving the flattering returns
+of a large sale, found its second production on the stage. In its
+dramatized version with the title, "A Gentleman of Leisure," it has had
+its tryout on the road and has proven a success. With Douglas Fairbanks
+in the leading role, it will be one of next Fall's elaborate productions
+on Broadway.
+
+In personality Mr. Wodehouse is quite as interesting as one might gather
+from his writings. Physically a man of splendid proportions and mentally
+a fountain of spirited humor, he is, nevertheless, modest to the point
+usually termed "retiring," and is well known only after long
+acquaintanceship. He is fond of all sports, and on reaching America
+became truly the native in his enthusiasm for baseball. Mr. Wodehouse
+says that one epoch of his literary career dates from his purchase of an
+automobile in 1907. The purchase was an investment of considerable
+gravity to a young writer just commencing to command an entree. The
+automobile lasted some two weeks and came to a violent end against a
+telephone pole. Mr. Wodehouse thought out the major problems of life
+sitting on the turf near the pole from a more or less lacerated point of
+view. He decided, among other things, that his _forte_ was rather
+writing about motors than riding about _in_ motors.
+
+Mr. Wodehouse's second novel will be an even greater success than "The
+Intrusion of Jimmy." Mr. Wodehouse spent last winter on the Riviera
+writing this book, and his friends who have read the advance pages,
+agree with the publishers that it will deserve and receive even greater
+cordiality than the first. The title will be "The Prince and Betty," and
+it will be something for novel readers to look forward to.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Lighted Match, by Charles Neville Buck
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIGHTED MATCH ***
+
+***** This file should be named 18336.txt or 18336.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/3/3/18336/
+
+Produced by David Garcia, Martin Pettit and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Kentuckiana Digital Library)
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/18336.zip b/18336.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4287cb7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/18336.zip
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0b9263a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #18336 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/18336)