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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Puppet Crown, by Harold MacGrath
+
+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 Puppet Crown
+
+Author: Harold MacGrath
+
+Posting Date: February 21, 2009 [EBook #3239]
+Release Date: May, 2002
+Last Updated: March 16, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PUPPET CROWN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Franks and the Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+
+
+THE PUPPET CROWN
+
+by Harold MacGrath
+
+
+
+
+     TO THE MEMORY OF THAT GOOD FRIEND
+                    AND
+            COMRADE OF MY YOUTH
+                 MY FATHER
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+     I. THE SCEPTER WHICH WAS A STICK
+    II. THE COUP D'ETAT OF COUSIN JOSEF
+   III. AN EPISODE TEN YEARS AFTER
+    IV. AN ADVENTURE WITH ROYALTY
+     V. BEHIND THE PUPPET BOOTH
+    VI. MADEMOISELLE OF THE VEIL
+   VII. SOME DIALOGUE, AN SPRAINED ANKLE, AND SOME SOLDIERS
+  VIII. THE RED CHATEAU
+    IX. NOTHING MORE SERIOUS THAN A HOUSE PARTY
+     X. BEING OF LONG RIDES, MAIDS, KISSES AND MESSAGES
+    XI. THE DENOUEMENT
+   XII. WHOM THE GODS DESTROY AND A FEW OTHERS
+  XIII. BEING OF COMPLICATIONS NOT RECKONED ON
+   XIV. QUI M'AIME, AIME MON CHIEN
+    XV. IN WHICH FORTUNE BECOMES CARELESS AND PRODIGAL
+   XVI. WHAT HAPPENED AT THE ARCHBISHOP'S PLACE AND AFTER
+  XVII. SOME PASSAGES AT ARMS
+ XVIII. A MINOR CHORD AND A CHANGE OF MOVEMENT
+   XIX. A CHANCE RIDE IN THE NIGHT
+    XX. THE LAST STAND OF A BAD SERVANT
+   XXI. A COURT FETE AT THE RED CHATEAU
+  XXII. IN WHICH MAURICE RECURS TO OFFENBACH
+ XXIII. A GAME OF POKER AND THE STAKES
+  XXIV. THE PRISONER OF THE RED CHATEAU
+   XXV. THE FORTUNES OF WAR
+  XXVI. A PAGE FORM TASSO
+ XXVII. WORMWOOD AND LEES
+XXVIII. INTO THE HANDS OF AUSTRIA  XXIX. INTO STILL WATERS AND SILENCE
+
+
+
+     Ah Love! Could you and I with Him conspire
+     To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire
+       Would not we shatter it to bits--and then
+     Re-mold it nearer to the Heart's desire!
+
+                    --Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. THE SCEPTER WHICH WAS A STICK
+
+The king sat in his private garden in the shade of a potted orange tree,
+the leaves of which were splashed with brilliant yellow. It was high
+noon of one of those last warm sighs of passing summer which now and
+then lovingly steal in between the chill breaths of September. The
+velvet hush of the mid-day hour had fallen.
+
+There was an endless horizon of turquoise blue, a zenith pellucid as
+glass. The trees stood motionless; not a shadow stirred, save that which
+was cast by the tremulous wings of a black and purple butterfly, which,
+near to his Majesty, fell, rose and sank again. From a drove of wild
+bees, swimming hither and thither in quest of the final sweets of the
+year, came a low murmurous hum, such as a man sometimes fancies he hears
+while standing alone in the vast auditorium of a cathedral.
+
+The king, from where he sat, could see the ivy-clad towers of the
+archbishop's palace, where, in and about the narrow windows, gray and
+white doves fluttered and plumed themselves. The garden sloped gently
+downward till it merged into a beautiful lake called the Werter See,
+which, stretching out several miles to the west, in the heart of the
+thick-wooded hills, trembled like a thin sheet of silver.
+
+Toward the south, far away, lay the dim, uneven blue line of the Thalian
+Alps, which separated the kingdom that was from the duchy that is, and
+the duke from his desires. More than once the king leveled his gaze
+in that direction, as if to fathom what lay behind those lordly rugged
+hills.
+
+There was in the air the delicate odor of the deciduous leaves which,
+every little while, the king inhaled, his eyes half-closed and his
+nostrils distended. Save for these brief moments, however, there rested
+on his countenance an expression of disenchantment which came of
+the knowledge of a part ill-played, an expression which described a
+consciousness of his unfitness and inutility, of lethargy and weariness
+and distaste.
+
+To be weary is the lot of kings, it is a part of their royal
+prerogative; but it is only a great king who can be weary gracefully.
+And Leopold was not a great king; indeed, he was many inches short of
+the ideal; but he was philosophical, and by the process of reason he
+escaped the pitfalls which lurk in the path of peevishness.
+
+To know the smallness of the human atom, the limit of desire, the
+existence of other lives as precious as their own, is not the philosophy
+which makes great kings. Philosophy engenders pity; and one who
+possesses that can not ride roughshod over men, and that is the business
+of kings.
+
+As for Leopold, he would rather have wandered the byways of Kant than
+studied royal etiquette. A crown had been thrust on his head and a
+scepter into his hand, and, willy-nilly, he must wear the one and wield
+the other. The confederation had determined the matter shortly before
+the Franco-Prussian war.
+
+The kingdom that was, an admixture of old France and newer Austria, was
+a gateway which opened the road to the Orient, and a gateman must be
+placed there who would be obedient to the will of the great travelers,
+were they minded to pass that way. That is to say, the confederation
+wanted a puppet, and in Leopold they found a dreamer, which served as
+well. That glittering bait, a crown, had lured him from his peaceful
+Osian hills and valleys, and now he found that his crown was of straw
+and his scepter a stick.
+
+He longed to turn back, for his heart lay in a tomb close to his castle
+keep, but the way back was closed. He had sold his birthright. So he
+permitted his ministers to rule his kingdom how they would, and gave
+himself up to dreams. He had been but a cousin of the late king, whereas
+the duke of the duchy that is had been a brother. But cousin Josef
+was possessed of red hair and a temper which was redder still, and,
+moreover, a superlative will, bending to none, and laughing at those who
+tried to bend him.
+
+He would have been a king to the tip of his fiery hair; and it was for
+this very reason that his subsequent appeals for justice and his rights
+fell on unheeding ears. The confederation feared Josef; therefore they
+dispossessed him. Thus Leopold sat on the throne, while his Highness bit
+his nails and swore, impotent to all appearances.
+
+Leopold leaned forward from his seat. In his hand he held a riding stick
+with which he drew shapeless pictures in the yellow gravel of the path.
+His brows were drawn over contemplative eyes, and the hint of a sour
+smile lifted the corners of his lips. Presently the brows relaxed, and
+his gaze traveled to the opposite side of the path, where the British
+minister sat in the full glare of the sun.
+
+In the middle of the path, as rigid as a block of white marble, reposed
+a young bulldog, his moist black nose quivering under the repeated
+attacks of a persistent insect. It occurred to the king that there was
+a resemblance between the dog and his master, the Englishman. The same
+heavy jaws were there, the same fearless eyes, the same indomitable
+courage for the prosecution of a purpose.
+
+A momentary regret passed through him that he had not been turned from
+a like mold. Next his gaze shifted to the end of the path, where a
+young Lieutenant stood idly kicking pebbles, his cuirass flaming in the
+dazzling sunshine. Soon the drawing in the gravel was resumed.
+
+The British minister made little of the three-score years which were
+closing in on him, after the manner of an army besieging a citadel. He
+was full of animal exuberance, and his eyes, a trifle faded, it must
+be admitted, were still keenly alive and observant. He was big of
+bone, florid of skin, and his hair--what remained of it--was wiry and
+bleached. His clothes, possibly cut from an old measure, hung loosely
+about the girth--a sign that time had taken its tithe. For thirty-five
+years he had served his country by cunning speeches and bursts of fine
+oratory; he had wandered over the globe, lulling suspicions here and
+arousing them there, a prince of the art of diplomacy.
+
+He had not been sent here to watch this kingdom. He was touching a
+deeper undercurrent, which began at St. Petersburg and moved toward
+Central Asia, Turkey and India, sullenly and irresistibly. And now his
+task was done, and another was to take his place, to be a puppet among
+puppets. He feared no man save his valet, who knew his one weakness, the
+love of a son on whom he had shut his door, which pride forbade him to
+open. This son had chosen the army, when a fine diplomatic career had
+been planned--a small thing, but it sufficed. Even now a word from an
+humbled pride would have reunited father and son, but both refused to
+speak this word.
+
+The diplomat in turn watched the king as he engaged in the aimless
+drawing. His meditation grew retrospective, and his thoughts ran back
+to the days when he first befriended this lonely prince, who had come to
+England to learn the language and manners of the chill islanders. He had
+been handsome enough in those days, this Leopold of Osia, gay and eager,
+possessing an indefinable charm which endeared him to women and made him
+respected of men. To have known him then, the wildest stretch of
+fancy would never have placed him on this puppet throne, surrounded
+by enemies, menaced by his adopted people, rudderless and ignorant of
+statecraft.
+
+“Fate is the cup,” the diplomat mused, “and the human life the ball,
+and it's toss, toss, toss, till the ball slips and falls into eternity.”
+ Aloud he said, “Your Majesty seems to be well occupied.”
+
+“Yes,” replied the king, smiling. “I am making crowns and scratching
+them out again--usurping the gentle pastime of their most Christian
+Majesties, the confederation. A pretty bauble is a crown, indeed--at a
+distance. It is a fine thing to wear one--in a dream. But to possess one
+in the real, and to wear it day by day with the eternal fear of laying
+it down and forgetting where you put it, or that others plot to steal
+it, or that you wear it dishonestly--Well, well, there are worse things
+than a beggar's crust.”
+
+“No one is honest in this world, save the brute,” said the diplomat,
+touching the dog with his foot. “Honesty is instinctive with him, for
+he knows no written laws. The gold we use is stamped with dishonesty,
+notwithstanding the beautiful mottoes; and so long as we barter and
+sell for it, just so long we remain dishonest. Yes, you wear your crown
+dishonestly but lawfully, which is a nice distinction. But is any crown
+worn honestly? If it is not bought with gold, it is bought with lies
+and blood. Sire, your great fault, if I may speak, is that you haven't
+continued to be dishonest. You should have filled your private coffers,
+but you have not done so, which is a strange precedent to establish. You
+should have increased taxation, but you have diminished it; you should
+have forced your enemy's hand four years ago, when you ascended the
+throne, but you did not; and now, for all you know, his hand may be
+too strong. Poor, dishonest king! When you accepted this throne, which
+belongs to another, you fell as far as possible from moral ethics.
+And now you would be honest and be called dull, and dream, while your
+ministers profit and smile behind your back. I beg your Majesty's
+pardon, but you have always requested that I should speak plainly.”
+
+The king laughed; he enjoyed this frank friend. There was an essence of
+truth and sincerity in all he said that encouraged confidence.
+
+“Indeed, I shall be sorry to have you go tomorrow,” he said, “for I
+believe if you stayed here long enough you would truly make a king of
+me. Be frank, my friend, be always frank; for it is only on the base of
+frankness that true friendship can rear itself.”
+
+“You are only forty-eight,” said the Englishman; “you are young.”
+
+“Ah, my friend,” replied the king with a tinge of sadness, “it is not
+the years that age us; it is how we live them. In the last four years I
+have lived ten. To-day I feel so very old! I am weary of being a king.
+I am weary of being weary, and for such there is no remedy. Truly I was
+not cut from the pattern of kings; no, no. I am handier with a book than
+with a scepter; I'd liever be a man than a puppet, and a puppet I am--a
+figurehead on the prow of the ship, but I do not guide it. Who care for
+me save those who have their ends to gain? None, save the archbishop,
+who yet dreams of making a king of me. And these are not my people who
+surround me; when I die, small care. I shall have left in the passing
+scarce a finger mark in the dust of time.”
+
+“Ah, Sire, if only you would be cold, unfriendly, avaricious. Be stone
+and rule with a rod of iron. Make the people fear you, since they refuse
+to love you; be stone.”
+
+“You can mold lead, but you can not sculpture it; and I am lead.”
+
+“Yes; not only the metal, but the verb intransitive. Ah, could the fires
+of ambition light your soul!”
+
+“My soul is a blackened grate of burnt-out fires, of which only a coal
+remains.”
+
+And the king turned in his seat and looked across the crisp green
+lawns to the beds of flowers, where, followed by a maid at a respectful
+distance, a slim young girl in white was cutting the hardy geraniums,
+dahlias and seed poppies.
+
+“God knows what her legacy will be!”
+
+“It is for you to make it, Sire.”
+
+Both men continued to remark the girl. At length she came toward
+them, her arms laden with flowers. She was at the age of ten, with a
+beautiful, serious face, which some might have called prophetic.
+Her hair was dark, shining like coal and purple, and gossamer in its
+fineness; her skin had the blue-whiteness of milk; while from under long
+black lashes two luminous brown eyes looked thoughtfully at the world.
+She smiled at the king, who eyed her fondly, and gave her unengaged hand
+to the Englishman, who kissed it.
+
+“And how is your Royal Highness this fine day? he asked, patting the
+hand before letting it go.
+
+“Will you have a dahlia, Monsieur?” With a grave air she selected a
+flower and slipped it through his button-hole.
+
+“Does your Highness know the language of the flowers?” the Englishman
+asked.
+
+“Dahlias signify dignity and elegance; you are dignified, Monsieur, and
+dignity is elegance.”
+
+“Well!” cried the Englishman, smiling with pleasure; “that is turned as
+adroitly as a woman of thirty.”
+
+“And am I not to have one?” asked the king, his eyes full of paternal
+love and pride.
+
+“They are for your Majesty's table,” she answered.
+
+“Your Majesty!” cried the king in mimic despair. “Was ever a father
+treated thus? Your Majesty! Do you not know, my dear, that to me
+'father' is the grandest title in the world?”
+
+Suddenly she crossed over and kissed the king on the cheek, and he held
+her to him for a moment.
+
+The bulldog had risen, and was wagging his tail the best he knew how. If
+there was any young woman who could claim his unreserved admiration,
+it was the Princess Alexia. She never talked nonsense to him in their
+rambles together, but treated him as he should be treated, as an animal
+of enlightenment.
+
+“And here is Bull,” said the princess, tickling the dog's nose with a
+scarlet geranium.
+
+“Your Highness thinks a deal of Bull?” said the dog's master.
+
+“Yes, Monsieur, he doesn't bark, and he seems to understand all I say to
+him.”
+
+The dog looked up at his master as if to say: “There now, what do you
+think of that?”
+
+“To-morrow I am going away,” said the diplomat, “and as I can not very
+well take Bull with me, I give him to you.”
+
+The girl's eyes sparkled. “Thank you, Monsieur, shall I take him now?”
+
+“No, but when I leave your father. You see, he was sent to me by my son
+who is in India. I wish to keep him near me as long as possible. My son,
+your Highness, was a bad fellow. He ran away and joined the army against
+my wishes, and somehow we have never got together again. Still, I've
+a sneaking regard for him, and I believe he hasn't lost all his filial
+devotion. Bull is, in a way, a connecting link.”
+
+The king turned again to the gravel pictures. These Englishmen were
+beyond him in the matter of analysis. Her Royal Highness smiled vaguely,
+and wondered what this son was like. Once more she smiled, then moved
+away toward the palace. The dog, seeing that she did not beckon, lay
+down again. An interval of silence followed her departure. The thought
+of the Englishman had traveled to India, the thought of the king to
+Osia, where the girl's mother slept. The former was first to rouse.
+
+“Well, Sire, let us come to the business at hand, the subject of my last
+informal audience. It is true, then, that the consols for the loan
+of five millions of crowns are issued to-day, or have been, since the
+morning is passed?”
+
+“Yes, it is true. I am well pleased. Jacobi and Brother have agreed to
+place them at face value. I intend to lay out a park for the public at
+the foot of the lake. That will demolish two millions and a half. The
+remainder is to be used in city improvements and the reconstruction of
+the apartments in the palace, which are too small. If only you knew what
+a pleasure this affords me! I wish to make my good city of Bleiberg a
+thing of beauty--parks, fountains, broad and well paved streets.”
+
+“The Diet was unanimous in regard to this loan?”
+
+“In fact they suggested it, and I was much in favor.”
+
+“You have many friends there, then?”
+
+“Friends?” The king's face grew puzzled, and its animation faded away.
+“None that I know. This is positively the first time we ever agreed
+about anything.”
+
+“And did not that strike you as rather singular?”
+
+“Why, no.”
+
+“Of course, the people are enthusiastic, considering the old rate of
+taxation will be renewed?” The diplomat reached over and pulled the
+dog's ears.
+
+“So far as I can see,” answered the king, who could make nothing of this
+interrogatory.
+
+“Which, if your Majesty will pardon me, is not very far beyond your
+books.”
+
+“I have ministers.”
+
+“Who can see farther than your Majesty has any idea.”
+
+“Come, come, my friend,” cried the king good-naturedly; “but a moment
+gone you were chiding me because I did nothing. I may not fill my
+coffers as you suggested, but I shall please my eye, which is something.
+Come; you have something to tell me.”
+
+“Will your Majesty listen?”
+
+“I promise.”
+
+“And to hear?”
+
+“I promise not only to listen, but to hear,” laughing; “not only to
+hear, but to think. Is that sufficient?”
+
+“For three years,” began the Englishman, “I have been England's
+representative here. As a representative I could not meddle with
+your affairs, though it was possible to observe them. To-day I am an
+unfettered agent of self, and with your permission I shall talk to you
+as I have never talked before and never shall again.”
+
+The diplomat rose from his seat and walked up and down the path, his
+hands clasped behind his back, his chin in his collar. The bulldog
+yawned, stretched himself, and followed his master, soberly and
+thoughtfully. After a while the Englishman returned to his chair and sat
+down. The dog gravely imitated him. He understood, perhaps better than
+the king, his master's mood. This pacing backward and forward was always
+the forerunner of something of great importance.
+
+During the past year he had been the repository of many a secret. Well,
+he knew how to keep one. Did not he carry a secret which his master
+would have given much to know? Some one in far away India, after putting
+him into the ship steward's care, had whispered: “You tell the governor
+that I think just as much of him as ever.” He had made a desperate
+effort to tell it the moment he was liberated from the box, but he
+had not yet mastered that particular language which characterized his
+master's race.
+
+“To begin with,” said the diplomat, “what would your Majesty say if I
+should ask permission to purchase the entire loan?”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. THE COUP D'ETAT OF COUSIN JOSEF
+
+The king, who had been leaning forward, fell back heavily in his seat,
+his eyes full wide and his mouth agape. Then, to express his utter
+bewilderment, he raised his hands above his head and limply dropped
+them.
+
+“Five millions of crowns?” he gasped.
+
+“Yes; what would your Majesty say to such a proposition?” complacently.
+
+“I should say,” answered the king, with a nervous laugh, “that my friend
+had lost his senses, completely and totally.”
+
+“The fact is,” the Englishman declared, “they were never keener nor more
+lucid than at this present moment.”
+
+“But five millions!”
+
+“Five millions; a bagatelle,” smiling.
+
+“Certainly you can not be serious, and if you were, it is out of the
+question. Death of my life! The kingdom would be at my ears. The people
+would shout that I was selling out to the English, that I was putting
+them into the mill to grind for English sacks.”
+
+“Your Majesty will recollect that the measure authorizing this loan
+was rather a peculiar one. Five millions were to be borrowed
+indiscriminately, of any man or body of men willing to advance the money
+on the securities offered. First come, first served, was not written,
+but it was implied. It was this which roused my curiosity, or cupidity,
+if you will.”
+
+“I can not recollect that the bill was as you say,” said the king,
+frowning.
+
+“I believe you. When the bill came to you, you were not expected to
+recollect anything but the royal signature. Have you read half of what
+you have signed and made law? No. I am serious. What is it to you or to
+the people, who secures this public mortgage, so long as the money
+is forthcoming? I desire to purchase at face value the twenty
+certificates.”
+
+“As a representative of England?”
+
+The diplomat smiled. The king's political ignorance was well known. “As
+a representative of England, Sire, I could not purchase the stubs from
+which these certificates are cut. And then, as I remarked, I am an
+unfettered agent of self. The interest at two per cent. will be a
+fine income on a lump of stagnant money. Even in my own country, where
+millionaires are so numerous as to be termed common, I am considered a
+rich man. My personal property, aside from my estates, is five times the
+amount of the loan. A mere bagatelle, if I may use that pleasantry.”
+
+“Impossible, impossible!” cried the king, starting to his feet, while
+a line of worry ran across his forehead. He strode about impatiently
+slapping his boots with the riding stick. “It is impossible.”
+
+“Why do you say impossible, Sire?”
+
+“I can not permit you to put in jeopardy a quarter of a million pounds,”
+ forgetting for the moment that he was powerless.
+
+“Aha!” the diplomat cried briskly. “There is, then, beneath your
+weariness and philosophy, a fear?”
+
+“A fear?” With an effort the king smoothed the line from his forehead.
+“Why should there be fear?”
+
+“Why indeed, when our cousin Josef--” He stopped and looked toward the
+mountains.
+
+“Well?” abruptly.
+
+“I was thinking what a fine coup de maitre it would be for his Highness
+to gather in all these pretty slips of parchment given under the hand of
+Leopold.”
+
+“Small matter if he should. I should pay him.” The king sat down. “And
+it is news to me that Josef can get together five millions.”
+
+“He has friends, rich and powerful friends.”
+
+“No matter, I should pay him.”
+
+“Are you quite sure?”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“The face of the world changes in the course of ten years. Will there be
+five millions in your treasury ten years hence?”
+
+“The wealth of my kingdom is not to be questioned,” proudly, “nor its
+resources.”
+
+“But in ten years, with the ministers you have?” The Englishman shrugged
+doubtfully. “Why have you not formed a new cabinet of younger men?
+Why have you retained those of your predecessor, who are your natural
+enemies? You have tried and failed.”
+
+The expression of weariness returned to the king's face. He knew that
+all this was but a preamble to something of deeper significance. He
+anticipated what was forming in the other's mind, but he wished to
+avoid a verbal declaration. O, he knew that there was a net of intrigue
+enmeshing him, but it was so very fine that he could not pick up the
+smallest thread whereby to unravel it. Down in his soul he felt the
+shame of the knowledge that he dared not. A dreamer, rushing toward the
+precipice, would rather fall dreaming than waken and struggle futilely.
+
+“My friend,” he said, finally, sighing, “proceed. I am all attention.”
+
+“I never doubted your Majesty's perspicacity. You do not know, but you
+suspect, what I am about to disclose to you. My hope is that, when I am
+done, your Majesty will throw Kant and the rest of your philosophers out
+of the window. The people are sullen at the mention of your name,
+while they cheer another. There is an astonishing looseness about
+your revenues. The reds and the socialists plot for revolution and
+a republic, which is a thin disguise for a certain restoration. Your
+cousin the duke visits you publicly twice each year. He has been in the
+city a week at a time incognito, yet your minister of police seems
+to know nothing.” The speaker ceased, and fondled the dahlia in his
+button-hole.
+
+The king, noting the action, construed it as the subtle old diplomat
+intended he should. “Yes, yes! I am a king only for her sake. Go on.
+Tell me all.”
+
+“The archbishop and the chancellor are the only friends you possess.
+The Marshal, from personal considerations merely, remains neutral. Your
+army, excepting the cuirassiers, are traitors to your house. The wisest
+thing you have done was to surround yourself with this mercenary body,
+whom you call the royal cuirassiers, only, instead of three hundred, you
+should have two thousand. Self-interest will make them true to you.
+You might find some means to pay them, for they would be a good buffer
+between you and your enemies. The president of the Diet and the members
+are passing bills which will eventually undermine you. How long it will
+take I can not say. But this last folly, the loan, which you could have
+got on without, caps the climax. The duke was in the city last week
+unknown to you. Your minister of finance is his intimate. This loan
+was a connivance of them all. Why ten years, when it could easily be
+liquidated in five? I shall tell you. The duke expects to force you into
+bankruptcy within that time, and when the creditor demands and you can
+not pay, you will be driven from here in disgrace.
+
+“And where will you go? Certainly not to Osia, since you traded it for
+this throne. It was understood, when you assumed the reign, that the
+finances of the kingdom would remain unimpeachable. Bankrupt, the
+confederation will be forced to disavow you. They will be compelled to
+restore the throne to your enemy, who, believe me, is most anxious to
+become your creditor.
+
+“This is an independent state,--conditionally. The confederation have
+formed themselves into a protectorate. Why? I can only guess. One or
+more of them covet these beautiful lands. What are ten years to Josef,
+when a crown is the goal? Your revenues are slowly to decline, there
+will be internal troubles to eat up what money you have in the treasury.
+O, it is a plot so fine, so swiftly conceived, so cunningly devised that
+I would I were twenty years younger, to fight it with you! But I am
+old. My days for acting are past. I can only advise. He was sure of his
+quarry, this Josef whose hair is of many colors. Had you applied to the
+money syndicates of Europe, the banks of England, France, Germany, or
+Austria, your true sponsor, the result would always be the same: your
+ruin. Covertly I warned you not to sign; you laughed and signed. A trap
+was there, your own hand opened it. How they must have laughed at
+you! If you attempt to repudiate your signature the Diet has power to
+overrule you.
+
+“Truly, the shade of Macchiavelli masks in the garb of your cousin. I
+admire the man's genius. This is his throne by right of inheritance. I
+do not blame him. Only, I wish to save you. If you were alone, why, I
+do not say that I should trouble myself, for you yourself would not be
+troubled. But I have grown to love that child of yours. It is all for
+her. Do you now understand why I make the request? It appears Quixotic?
+Not at all. Put my money in jeopardy? Not while the kingdom exists. If
+you can not pay back, your kingdom will. Perhaps you ask what is the
+difference, whether I or the duke becomes your creditor? This: in ten
+years I shall be happy to renew the loan. In ten years, if I am gone,
+there will be my son. You wonder why I do this. I repeat it is for your
+daughter. And perhaps,” with a dry smile, “it is because I have no love
+for Josef.”
+
+“I will defeat him!” cried the king, a fire at last shining in his eyes.
+
+“You will not.”
+
+“I will appeal to the confederation and inform them of the plot.”
+
+“The resource of a child! They would laugh at you for your pains.
+For they are too proud of their prowess in statecraft to tolerate
+a suspicion that your cousin is a cleverer man than all of them put
+together. There remains only one thing for you to do.”
+
+“And what is that?” wearily.
+
+“Accept my friendship at its true value.”
+
+The king made no reply. He set his elbows on the arms of the rustic
+seat, interlaced his fingers and rested his chin on them, while his
+booted legs slid out before him. His meditation lengthened into several
+minutes. The diplomat evinced no sign of impatience.
+
+“Come with me,” said the king, rising quickly. “I will no longer dream.
+I will act. Come.”
+
+The diplomat nodded approvingly; and together they marched toward the
+palace. The bulldog trotted on behind, his pink tongue lolling out
+of his black mouth, a white tusk or two gleaming on each side. The
+Lieutenant of the cuirassiers saluted as they passed him, and, when they
+had gone some distance, swung in behind. He observed with some concern
+that his Majesty was much agitated.
+
+The business of the kingdom, save that performed in the Diet, was
+accomplished in the east wing of the palace; the king's apartments,
+aside from the state rooms, occupied the west wing. It was to the
+business section that the king conducted the diplomat. In the chamber of
+finance its minister was found busy at his desk. He glanced up casually,
+but gave an ejaculation of surprise when he perceived who his visitors
+were.
+
+“O, your Majesty!” he cried, bobbing up and running out his chair.
+“Good afternoon, your Excellency,” to the Englishman, adjusting his
+gold-rimmed glasses, through which his eyes shone pale and cold.
+
+The diplomat bowed. The little man reminded him of M. Thiers, that
+effervescence of soda tinctured with the bitterness of iron. He
+understood the distrust which Count von Wallenstein entertained for him,
+but he was not distrustful of the count. Distrust implies uncertainty,
+and the Englishman was not the least uncertain as to his conception of
+this gentleman of finance.
+
+There were few men whom the count could not interpret; one stood before
+him. He could not comprehend why England had sent so astute a diplomat
+and politician to a third-rate kingdom. Of that which we can not
+understand we are suspicious, and the guilty are distrustful. Neither
+the minister of police nor his subordinates could fathom the purpose of
+this calm, dignified old man with the difficult English name.
+
+“Count,” began the king, pleasantly, “his Excellency here has made a
+peculiar request.”
+
+“And what might that be, Sire?”
+
+“He offers to purchase the entire number of certificates issued to-day
+for our loan.”
+
+“Five millions of crowns?” The minister's astonishment was so genuine
+that in jerking back his head his glasses slipped from his nose and
+dangled on the string.
+
+The Englishman bowed again, the wrinkle of a smile on his face.
+
+“I would not believe him serious at first, count,” said the king,
+laughing easily, “but he assured me that he is. What can be done about
+it?”
+
+“O, your Majesty,” cried the minister, excitedly, “it would not be
+politic. And then the measure--”
+
+“Is it possible that I have misconstrued its import?” the diplomat
+interposed with a fine air of surprise.
+
+“You are familiar--” began the count, hesitatingly.
+
+“Perfectly; that is, I believe so.”
+
+“But England--”
+
+“Has nothing whatever to do with the matter. Something greater, which
+goes by the name of self-interest.”
+
+“Ah,” said the count, his wrinkles relaxing; “then it is on your own
+responsibility?”
+
+“Precisely.”
+
+“But five millions of crowns--two hundred and fifty thousand pounds!”
+ The minister could not compose himself. “This is a vast sum of money. We
+expected not an individual, but a syndicate, to accept our securities,
+to become debtors to the various banks on the continent. But a personal
+affair! Five millions of crowns! The possibilities of your wealth
+overwhelm me.”
+
+The Englishman smiled. “I dare say I have more than my share of this
+world's goods. I can give you a check for the amount on the bank of
+England.”
+
+“Your Majesty's lamented predecessor--”
+
+“Is dead,” said the king gently. He had no desire to hear the minister
+recount that ruler's virtues. “Peace to his ashes.”
+
+“Five millions of crowns!” The minister had lost his equipoise in the
+face of the Englishman's great riches, of which hitherto he had held
+some doubts. Suddenly a vivid thought entered his confused brain. The
+paper cutter in his hand trembled. In the breathing space allowed him
+he began to calculate rapidly. The king and the diplomat had been in the
+garden; something had passed between them. What? The paper cutter slowly
+ceased its uneven movements. The count calmly placed it behind the
+inkwells. .... The Englishman knew. The glitter of gold gave way to
+the thought of the peril. A chasm yawned at his feet. But he was an old
+soldier in the game of words and cross-purposes.
+
+“We should be happy to accord you the privilege of becoming the
+kingdom's creditor,” he said, smiling at the diplomat, whom nothing had
+escaped. “I am afraid, however, that your request has been submitted too
+late. At ten o'clock this morning the transfer of the certificates would
+have been a simple matter. There are twenty in all; it may not be too
+late to secure some of them.” He looked tranquilly from the Englishman
+to the king.
+
+The smiling mask fell from the king's face; he felt that he was lost. He
+tried to catch his friend's eye, but the diplomat was deeply interested
+in the console of the fireplace.
+
+“They seem to be at a premium,” the Englishman said, “which speaks well
+for the prosperity of the country. I am sorry to have troubled you.”
+
+“It would have been a pleasure indeed,” replied the count. He stood
+secure within his fortress, so secure that he would have liked to laugh.
+
+“It is too bad,” said the king, pulling his thoughts together.
+
+“Your Majesty is giving the matter too much importance,” said the
+diplomat. “It was merely a whim. I shall have the pleasure and honor of
+presenting my successor this evening.”
+
+The count bent low, while the king nodded absently. He was thinking that
+a penful of ink, carelessly trailed over a sheet of paper, had lost him
+his throne. He was about to draw the arm of the diplomat through his
+own, when his step was arrested by the entrance of a messenger who
+presented a letter to the minister of finance.
+
+“With your Majesty's permission,” he said, tearing open the envelope.
+As he read the contents, his shoulders sank to their habitual stoop and
+benignity once more shone in the place of alertness. “Decidedly, fate is
+not with your Excellency to-day. M. Jacobi writes me that four millions
+have already been disposed of to M. Everard & Co., English bankers in
+the Konigstrasse, who are representing a French firm in this particular
+instance. I am very sorry.”
+
+“It is of no moment now,” replied the Englishman indifferently.
+
+The adverb which concluded this declaration caught the keen ear of the
+minister, who grew tall again. What would he not have given to read
+the subtle brain of his opponent, for opponent he knew him to be! His
+intense scrutiny was blocked by a pair of most innocent eyes.
+
+“Well,” said the king impatiently, “let us be gone, my friend. The talk
+of money always leaves a copperish taste on my tongue.”
+
+Arm in arm they passed from the chamber. When the door closed behind
+them, the minister of finance drew his handkerchief across his brow.
+
+“Everard & Co.,” mused the Englishman aloud. “Was it not indeed a stroke
+for your cousin to select them as his agents? You will in truth be
+accused of selling out to the English. But there is a coincidence in all
+this.”
+
+“I am lost!” said the king.
+
+“On the contrary, you are saved. Everard & Co. are my bankers and
+attorneys; in fact, I own an interest in the firm.”
+
+“What is this you tell me?” cried the king.
+
+“Sire, we English have a peculiar trait; it is asking for something
+after we have taken it. The human countenance is a fine picture book.
+I should like to read that belonging to your cousin Josef, providing I
+could read unobserved.”
+
+“My friend!” said the king.
+
+“Say nothing. Here is the bulldog; take him to her Royal Highness with
+my compliments. There is no truer friend than an animal of his breed.
+He is steadfast in his love, for he makes but few friends; he is a good
+companion, for he is undemonstrative; he can read and draw inferences,
+and your enemies will be his. I shall bid you good afternoon. God be
+with your Majesty.”
+
+“Ah, to lose you now!” said, the king, a heaviness in his heart such as
+presentiment brings.
+
+The diplomat turned and went down the grand corridor. The bulldog tugged
+at his chain. Animals are gifted with prescience. He knew that his
+master had passed forever out of his life. Presently he heard the
+voice of the princess calling; and the glamour of royalty encompassed
+him,--something a human finds hard to resist, and he was only a dog.
+
+Meanwhile another messenger had entered the chamber of finance and had
+gone. On the minister's desk lay a crumpled sheet of paper on which was
+written:
+
+“Treason and treachery! It has at this moment been ascertained that,
+while pretending to be our agents in securing the consols, M. Everard &
+Co. now refuse to deliver them into the custody of Baron von Rumpf, as
+agreed, and further, that M. Everard & Co. are bankers and attorneys to
+his Excellency the British minister. He must not leave this city with
+those consols.”
+
+With his eyes riveted on these words, the minister of finance, huddled
+in his chair, had fallen into a profound study.
+
+There were terrible times in the house of Josef that night.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. AN EPISODE TEN YEARS AFTER
+
+One fine September morning in a year the date of which is of no
+particular importance, a man stepped out of a second-class carriage
+on to the canopied platform of the railway terminus in the ancient and
+picturesque city of Bleiberg. He yawned, shook himself, and stretched
+his arms and legs, relieved to find that the tedious journey from Vienna
+had not cramped those appendages beyond recovery.
+
+He stood some inches above the average height, and was built up in
+a manner that suggested the handiwork of a British drill-master, his
+figure being both muscular and symmetrical. Besides, there was on his
+skin that rich brown shadow which is the result only of the forces
+of the sun and wind, a life in the open air. This color gave peculiar
+emphasis to the yellow hair and mustache. His face was not handsome,
+if one accept the Greek profile as a model of manly beauty, but it
+was cleanly and boldly cut, healthful, strong and purposeful, based on
+determined jaws and a chin which would have been obstinate but for the
+presence of a kindly mouth.
+
+A guard deposited at his feet a new hatbox, a battered traveling bag and
+two gun cases which also gave evidence of rough usage. The luggage was
+literally covered with mutilated square and oblong slips of paper of
+many colors, on which were printed the advertisements of far-sighted
+hotel keepers all the way from Bombay to London and half-way back across
+the continent.
+
+There was nothing to be seen, however, indicative of the traveler's
+name. He surveyed his surroundings with lively interest shining in his
+gray eyes, one of which peered through a monocle encircled by a thin rim
+of tortoise shell. He watched the fussy customs officials, who, by
+some strange mischance, overlooked his belongings. Finally he made an
+impatient gesture.
+
+“Find me a cab,” he said to the attentive guard, who, with an eye to
+the main chance, had waved off the approach of a station porter. “If the
+inspectors are in no hurry, I am.”
+
+“At once, my lord;” and the guard, as he stooped and lifted the luggage,
+did not see the start which this appellation caused the stranger to
+make, but who, after a moment, was convinced that the guard had given
+him the title merely out of politeness. The guard placed the traps
+inside of one of the many vehicles stationed at the street exit of the
+terminus. He was an intelligent and deductive servant.
+
+The traveler was some noted English lord who had come to Bleiberg
+to shoot the famed golden pheasant, and had secured a second-class
+compartment in order to demonstrate his incognito. Persons who traveled
+second-class usually did so to save money; yet this tall Englishman,
+since the train departed from Vienna, had almost doubled in gratuities
+the sum paid for his ticket. The guard stood respectfully at the door
+of the cab, doffed his cap, into which a memento was dropped, and went
+along about his business.
+
+The Englishman slammed the door, the jehu cracked his whip, and a moment
+later the hoarse breathings of the motionless engines became lost in the
+sharper noises of the city carts. The unknown leaned against the faded
+cushions, curled his mustache, and smiled as if well satisfied with
+events. It is quite certain that his sense of ease and security would
+have been somewhat disturbed had he known that another cab was close
+on the track of his, and that its occupant, an officer of the city
+gendarmerie, alternately smiled and frowned as one does who floats
+between conviction and uncertainty. At length the two vehicles turned
+into the Konigstrasse, the principal thoroughfare of the capital, and
+here the Englishman's cab came to a stand. The jehu climbed down and
+opened the door.
+
+“Did Herr say the Continental?” he asked.
+
+“No; the Grand.”
+
+The driver shrugged, remounted his box, and drove on. The Grand Hotel
+was clean enough and respectable, but that was all that could be said
+in its favor. He wondered if the Englishman would haggle over the fare.
+Englishmen generally did. He was agreeably disappointed, however, when,
+on arriving at the mean hostelry, his passenger plunged a hand into a
+pocket and produced three Franz-Josef florins.
+
+“You may have these,” he said, “for the trouble of having them exchanged
+into crowns.”
+
+As he whipped up, the philosophical cabman mused that these tourists
+were beyond the pale of his understanding. With a pocket full of money,
+and to put up at the Grand! Why not the Continental, which lay close to
+the Werter See, the palaces, the royal and public gardens? It was at
+the Continental that the fine ladies and gentlemen from Vienna, and
+Innsbruck, and Munich, and Belgrade, resided during the autumn months.
+But the Grand--ach! it was in the heart of the shops and markets, and
+within a stone's throw of that gloomy pile of granite designated in the
+various guide books as the University of Bleiberg.
+
+The Englishman had some difficulty in finding a pen that would write,
+and the ink was oily, and the guest-book was not at the proper angle.
+At last he managed to form the letters of his name, which was John
+Hamilton. After some deliberation, he followed this with “England.” The
+proprietor, who acted as his own clerk, drew the book toward him, and
+after some time, deciphered the cabalistic signs.
+
+“Ah, Herr John Hamilton of England; is that right?”
+
+“Yes; I am here for a few days' shooting. Can you find me a man to act
+as guide?”
+
+“This very morning, Herr.”
+
+“Thanks.”
+
+Then he proceeded up the stairs to the room assigned to him. The smell
+of garlic which pervaded the air caused him to make a grimace. Once
+alone in the room, he looked about. There was neither soap nor towel,
+but there was a card which stated that the same could be purchased at
+the office. He laughed. A pitcher of water and a bowl stood on a small
+table, which, by the presence of a mirror (that could not in truth
+reflect anything but light and darkness), served as a dresser. These
+he used to good advantage, drying his face and hands on the white
+counterpane of the bed, and laughing quietly as he did so. Next he lit
+a pipe, whose capacity for tobacco was rather less than that of a lady's
+thimble, sat in a chair by the window, smoked quietly, and gazed down on
+the busy street.
+
+It was yet early in the morning; sellers of vegetables, men and women
+peasants, with bare legs and wooden shoes, driving shaggy Servian ponies
+attached to low, cumbersome carts, passed and repassed, to and from the
+markets. A gendarme, leaning the weight of his shoulder on the guard of
+a police saber, rested against the corner of a wine shop across the way.
+Students, wearing squat caps with vizors, sauntered indolently along,
+twirling canes and ogling all who wore petticoats. Occasionally the
+bright uniform of a royal cuirassier flashed by; and the Englishman
+would lean over the sill and gaze after him, nodding his head in
+approval whenever the cuirassier sat his horse well.
+
+In the meantime the gendarme, who followed him from the station, had
+entered the hotel, hastily glanced at the freshly written name, and made
+off toward the palace.
+
+“Well, here we are,” mused the Englishman, pressing his thumb into the
+bowl of his pipe. “The affair promises some excitement. To-morrow will
+be the sixth; on the twentieth it will be a closed incident, as the
+diplomats would say. I don't know what brought me here so far ahead of
+time. I suppose I must look out for a crack on the head from some one
+I don't know, but who knows me so deuced well that he has hunted me
+in India and England, first with fine bribes, then with threats.” He
+glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the gun cases. “It was a
+capital idea, otherwise a certain ubiquitous customs official, who lies
+in wait for the unwary at the frontier, would now be an inmate of
+a hospital. To have lived thirty-five years, and to have ground out
+thirteen of them in her Majesty's, is to have acquired a certain disdain
+for danger, even when it is masked. I am curious to see how far these
+threats will go. It will take a clever man to trap me. The incognito is
+a fort. By the way, I wonder how the inspectors at the station came to
+overlook my traps? Strange, considering what I have gone through.”
+
+At this moment the knuckles of a hand beat against the door.
+
+“Come in!” answered the Englishman, wheeling his chair, but making no
+effort to rise. “Come in!”
+
+The door swung in, and there entered a short, spectacled man in dark
+gray clothes which fairly bristled with brass buttons. He was the chief
+inspector of customs. He bowed.
+
+The Englishman, consternation widening his eyes, lowered his pipe.
+
+“Monsieur Hamilton's pardon,” the inspector began, speaking in French,
+“but with your permission I shall inspect your luggage and glance at
+your passports.” He bowed again.
+
+“Now do you know, mon ami,” replied the Englishman, “that Monsieur
+Hamilton will not permit you to gaze even into yonder washbowl?” He rose
+lazily.
+
+“But, Monsieur,” cried the astonished official, to whom non-complaisance
+in the matter of inspection was unprecedented, “you certainly will not
+put any obstacle in the path of my duty!”
+
+“Your duty, Monsieur the Spectacles, is to inspect at the station.
+There your assistants refused to award me their attention. You are
+trespassing.”
+
+“Monsieur forgets,” sternly; “it is the law. Is it possible that I shall
+be forced to call in the gendarmes to assist me? This is extraordinary!”
+
+“I dare say it is, on your part,” admitted the Englishman, polishing the
+bowl of his pipe against the side of his nose. “You had best go at once.
+If you do not, I shall take you by the nape of your Bleibergian neck and
+kick you down the stairs. I have every assurance of my privileges.
+The law here, unless it has changed within the past hour, requires
+inspection at the frontier, and at the capital; but your jurisdiction
+does not extend beyond the stations. Bon jour, Monsieur the Spectacles;
+bon jour!”
+
+“O, Monsieur!”
+
+“Good day!”
+
+“Monsieur, it is my duty; I must!”
+
+“Good day! How will you go, by the stairs or by the window? I--but
+wait!” an idea coming to him which caused him to reflect on the possible
+outcome of violence done to a government official, who, perhaps, was
+discharging his peculiar duty at the orders of superiors. He walked
+swiftly to the door and slid the bolt, to the terror of the inspector,
+on whose brow drops of perspiration began to gather. “Now,” opening the
+hat box and taking out a silk hat, “this is a hat, purchased in Paris
+at Cook's. There is nothing in the lining but felt. Look into the
+box; nothing. Take out your book and follow me closely,” he continued,
+dividing the traveling bag into halves, and he began to enumerate the
+contents.
+
+“But, Monsieur!” remonstrated the inspector, who did not enjoy this
+infringement of his prerogatives; his was the part to overhaul. “This
+is--”
+
+“Be still and follow me,” and the Englishman went on with the
+inventory. “There!” when he had done, “not a dutiable thing except this
+German-Scotch whisky, and that is so bad that I give it to you rather
+than pay duty. What next? My passports? Here they are, absolutely
+flawless, vised by the authorities in Vienna.”
+
+The slips crackled in the fluttering fingers of the inspector. “They
+are as you say, Monsieur,” he said, returning the permits. Then he added
+timidly, “And the gun cases?”
+
+“The gun cases!” The pipe spilled its coal to the floor. “The gun
+cases!”
+
+“Yes, Monsieur.”
+
+“And why do you wish to look into them?” with agitation.
+
+“Smugglers sometimes fill them with cigars.”
+
+“Ah!” The Englishman selected two loaded shells, drew a gun from the
+case, threw up the breech and rammed in the shells. Then he extended
+the weapon to within an inch of the terrified inspector's nose. “Now,
+Monsieur the Spectacles, look in there and tell me what you see.”
+
+The fellow sank half-fainting into a chair. “Mon Dieu, Monsieur, would
+you kill me who have a family?”
+
+“What's a customs inspector, more or less?” asked the terrible islander,
+laughing. “I advise you not to ask me to let you look into the other
+gun, out of consideration for your family. It has hair triggers, and my
+fingers tremble.”
+
+“Monsieur, Monsieur, you do wrong to trifle with the law. I shall be
+obliged to report you. You will be arrested.”
+
+“Nothing of the kind,” was the retort. “I have only to inform the
+British minister how remiss you were in your obligations. I should go
+free, whereas you would be discharged. But what I demand to know is,
+what the devil is the meaning of this farce.”
+
+“I am simply obeying orders,” answered the inspector, wiping his
+forehead. “It is not a farce, as Monsieur will find.” Then, as if to
+excuse this implied threat: “Will Monsieur please point the gun the
+other way?”
+
+The Englishman unloaded the gun and tossed it on the bed.
+
+“Thanks. In coming here I simply obeyed the orders of the minister of
+police.”
+
+“And what in the world did you expect to find?”
+
+“We are looking--that is, they are looking--O, Monsieur, it is
+impossible for me to disclose to you my government's purposes.”
+
+“What and whom were you expecting?” demanded the Englishman. “You
+shall not leave this room till you have fully explained this remarkable
+intrusion.”
+
+“We were expecting the Lord and Baronet Fitzgerald.”
+
+“The lord!” laughing. “Does the lord visit Bleiberg often, then, that
+you prepare this sort of a reception? And the Baronet Fitzgerald?”
+
+“They are the same and the one person.”
+
+“And who the deuce is he; a spy, a smuggler, a villain, or what?”
+
+“As to that, Monsieur,” with a wonder why this man laughed, “I know no
+more than you. But I do know that for the past month every Englishman
+has been subjected to this surveillance, and has submitted with more
+grace than you,” with an oblique glance.
+
+“What! Examined his luggage at the hotel?”
+
+“Yes, Monsieur. It is the order of the minister of police. I know not
+why.” The natural color was returning to his cheeks.
+
+“This is a fine country, I must say. At least the king should acquaint
+his visitors with the true cause of this treatment.” In his turn the
+Englishman resorted to oblique glances.
+
+“The king?” The inspector raised a shoulder and spread his hands. “The
+king is a paralytic, Monsieur, and has little to say these days.”
+
+“A paralytic? I thought he was called `the handsome monarch'?”
+
+“That was years ago, Monsieur. For three years he has been helpless and
+bedridden. The archbishop is the real king nowadays. But he meddles not
+with the police.”
+
+“This is very sad. I suppose it would be impossible for strangers to see
+him now.”
+
+“An audience?” a sparkle behind the spectacles. “Is your business with
+the king, Monsieur?”
+
+“My business is mine,” shortly. “I am only a tourist, and should have
+liked to see the king from mere curiosity. However, had you explained
+all this to me, I should not have caused you so many gray hairs.”
+
+“Monsieur did not give me the chance,” simply.
+
+“True,” the Englishman replied soberly. He began to think that he had
+been over hasty in asserting his privileges. “But all this has nothing
+to do with me. My name is John Hamilton. See, it is engraved on the
+stock of the gun,” catching it up and holding it under the spectacled
+eyes, which still observed it with some trepidation. “That is the name
+in my passports, in the book down stairs, in the lining of my hat. I am
+sorry, since you were only obeying orders, that my rough play has caused
+you alarm.” He unbolted the door. “Good morning.”
+
+The inspector left the room as swiftly as his short legs could carry
+him, ignoring the ethics of common politeness. As he stumbled down the
+stairs he cursed the minister of police for requiring this spy work of
+him, and not informing him why it was done. Ah, these cursed Anglais
+from Angleterre! They were all alike, and this one was the worst he had
+ever encountered. And those ugly black orifices in the gun! Peste! He
+would resign! Yes, certainly he would resign.
+
+As to the Englishman, he stood in the center of the room and scratched
+his head. “Hang it, I've made an ass of myself. That blockhead will have
+the gendarmes about my ears. If they arrest me there will be the devil
+to pay. The Lord and the Baronet Fitzgerald!” he repeated. He sat down
+on the edge of the bed, and fell to laughing again. “Confound these
+picture-book kingdoms! They always take themselves so seriously. Well,
+if the gendarmes call this afternoon I'll not be at home. No, thank you.
+I shall be hunting pheasants.”
+
+And thereat he set to work cleaning the gun which had all but prostrated
+the inspector. Soon the room smelled of oiled rags and tobacco.
+Some-times the worker whistled softly. Sometimes he let the gun fall
+against his knee, and stared dreamily through the window at the flight
+of the ragged clouds. Again, he would shake his head, as if there were
+something which he failed to understand. Half an hour passed, when again
+some one knocked on the door.
+
+“Come in!” Under his breath he added: “The gendarmes, likely.”
+
+But it was only the proprietor of the hotel. “Asking Herr's pardon,” he
+said, “for this intrusion, but I have secured a man for you. I have the
+honor to recommend Johann Kopf as a good guide and hunter.”
+
+“Send him up. If he pleases me, I'll use him.”
+
+The proprietor withdrew.
+
+Johann Kopf proved to be a young German with a round, ruddy face,
+which was so innocent of guile as to be out of harmony with the
+shrewd, piercing black eyes looking out of it. The Englishman eyed him
+inquisitively, even suspiciously.
+
+“Are you a good hunter?” he asked.
+
+“There is none better hereabout,” answered Johann, twirling his cap with
+noticeably white fingers. It was only in after days that the Englishman
+appreciated the full significance of this answer.
+
+“Speak English?”
+
+“No. Herr's German is excellent, however.”
+
+“Humph!” The Englishman gave a final glance into the shining tubes of
+the gun, snapped the breach, and slipped it into the case. “You'll do.
+Return to the office; I'll be down presently.”
+
+“Will Herr hunt this morning?”
+
+“No; what I wish this morning is to see the city of Bleiberg.”
+
+“That is simple,” said Johann. The fleeting, imperceptible smile did not
+convict his eyes of false keenness.
+
+He bowed out. When the door closed the Englishman waited until the sound
+of retreating steps failed. Then he took the gun case which he had not
+yet opened, and thrust it under the mattress of the bed.
+
+“Johann,” he said, as he put on a soft hat and drew a cane from the
+straps of the traveling bag, “you will certainly precede me in our
+hunting expeditions. I do not like your eyes; they are not at home in
+your boyish face. Humph! what a country. Every one speaks a different
+tongue.”
+
+The city of Bleiberg lay on a hill and in the valleys which fell away
+to the east and west. It was divided into two towns, the upper and
+the lower. The upper town and that part which lay on the shores of the
+Werter See was the modern and fashionable district. It was here that the
+king and the archbishop had their palaces and the wealthy their brick
+and stone. The public park skirted the lake, and was patterned after
+those fine gardens which add so much to the picturesqueness of Vienna
+and Berlin. There were wide gravel paths and long avenues of lofty
+chestnuts and lindens, iron benches, fountains and winding flower beds.
+The park, the palaces, and the Continental Hotel enclosed a public
+square, paved with asphalt, called the Hohenstaufenplatz, in the center
+of which rose a large marble fountain of several streams, guarded by
+huge bronze wolves. Here, too, were iron benches which were, for the
+most part, the meeting-place of the nursemaids. Carriages were allowed
+to make the circuit, but not to obstruct the way.
+
+The Konigstrasse began at the Platz, divided the city, and wound away
+southward, merging into the highway which continued to the Thalian Alps,
+some thirty miles distant. The palaces were at the southeast corner of
+the Platz, first the king's, then the archbishop's. The private gardens
+of each ran into the lake. Directly across from the palaces stood the
+cathedral, a relic of five centuries gone. On the northwest corner stood
+the Continental Hotel, with terrace and parapet at the water's edge, and
+a delightful open-air cafe facing the Platz. September and October were
+prosperous months in Bleiberg. Fashionable people who desired quiet made
+Bleiberg an objective point. The pheasants were plump, there were boars,
+gray wolves, and not infrequently Monsieur Fourpaws of the shaggy coat
+wandered across from the Carpathians.
+
+As to the lower town, it was given over to the shops and markets, the
+barracks, the university, and the Rathhaus, which served as the house of
+the Diet. It was full of narrow streets and quaint dwellings.
+
+Up the Konigstrasse the guide led the Englishman, who nodded whenever
+the voluble chatter of the German pleased him. When they began the
+descent of the hill, the vista which opened before them drew from the
+Englishman an ejaculation of delight. There lay the lake, like a bright
+new coin in a green purse; the light of the sun broke on the white
+buildings and flashed from the windows; and the lawns twinkled like
+emeralds.
+
+“It makes Vienna look to her laurels, eh, Herr?” said Johann.
+
+“But it must have cost a pretty penny.”
+
+“Aye, that it did; and the king is being impressed with that fact every
+day. There are few such fine palaces outside of first-class kingdoms.
+The cathedral there was erected at the desire of a pope, born five
+hundred years ago. It is full of romance. There is to be a grand wedding
+there on the twentieth of this month. That is why there are so many
+fashionable people at the hotels. The crown prince of Carnavia, which
+is the large kingdom just east of us, is to wed the Princess Alexia, the
+daughter of the king.”
+
+“On the twentieth? That is strange.”
+
+“Strange?”
+
+“I meant nothing,” said the Englishman, jerking back his shoulders;
+“I had in mind another affair.”
+
+There was a flash in Johann's eyes, but he subdued it before the
+Englishman was aware of its presence. “However,” said Johann, “there is
+something strange. The prince was to have arrived a week ago to complete
+the final arrangements for the wedding. His suite has been here a week,
+but no sign of his Highness. He stopped over a train at Ehrenstein
+to visit for a few hours a friend of the king, his father. Since then
+nothing has been heard from him. The king, it is said, fears that some
+accident has happened to him. Carnavia is also disturbed over this
+disappearance. Some whisper of a beautiful peasant girl. Who can say?”
+
+“Any political significance in this marriage?”
+
+“Leopold expects to strengthen his throne by the alliance. But--”
+ Johann's mouth closed and his tongue pushed out his cheek. “There will
+be some fine doings in the good city of Bleiberg before the month is
+gone. The minister from the duchy has been given his passports. Every
+one concedes that trouble is likely to ensue. Baron von Rumpf--”
+
+“Baron von Rumpf,” repeated the Englishman thoughtfully.
+
+“Yes; he is not a man to submit to accusations without making a
+disagreeable defense.”
+
+“What does the duke say?”
+
+“The duke?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“His Highness has been dead these four years.”
+
+“Dead four years? So much for man and his futile dreams. Dead four
+years,” absently.
+
+“What did you say, Herr?”
+
+“I? Nothing. How did he die?”
+
+“He was thrown from his horse and killed. But the duchess lives, and she
+is worthy of her sire. Eh, Herr, there is a woman for you! She should
+sit on this throne; it is hers by right. These Osians are aliens and
+were forced on us.”
+
+“It seems to me, young man, that you are talking treason.”
+
+“That is my business, Herr.” Johann laughed. “I am a socialist, and
+occasionally harangue for the reds. And sometimes, when I am in need of
+money, I find myself in the employ of the police.”
+
+The muscles of the Englishman's jaws hardened, then they relaxed. The
+expression on the face of his guide was free from anything but bonhomie.
+
+“One must live,” Johann added deprecatingly.
+
+“Yes, one must live,” replied the Englishman.
+
+“O! but I could sell some fine secrets to the Osians had they money to
+pay. Ach! but what is the use? The king has no money; he is on the verge
+of bankruptcy, and this pretty bit of scenery is the cause of it.”
+
+“So you are a socialist?” said the Englishman, passing over Johann's
+declamatory confidences.
+
+“Yes, Herr. All men are brothers.”
+
+“Go to!” laughed the Englishman, “you aren't even a second cousin to me.
+But stay, what place is this we are passing?” indicating with his cane a
+red-brick mansion which was fronted by broad English lawns and protected
+from intrusion by a high iron fence.
+
+
+“That is the British legation, Herr.”
+
+The Englishman stopped and stared, unconscious of the close scrutiny of
+the guide. His eyes traveled up the wide flags leading to the veranda,
+and he drew a picture of a square-shouldered old man tramping backward
+and forward, the wind tangling his thin white hair, his hands behind his
+back, his chin in his collar and at his heels a white bulldog. Rapidly
+another picture came. It was an English scene. And the echo of a voice
+fell on his ears. “My way and the freedom of the house and the key to
+the purse; your way and a closed door while I live. You can go, but you
+can not come back. You have decided? Yes? Then good morning.” Thirteen
+years, thirteen years! He had sacrificed the freedom of the house and
+the key to the purse, the kind eyes and the warm pressure of that old
+hand. And for what? Starvation in the deserts, plenty of scars and
+little of thanks, ingratitude and forgetfulness.
+
+And now the kind eyes were closed and the warm hand cold. O, to recall
+the vanished face, the silent voice, the misspent years, the April days
+and their illusions! The Englishman took the monocle from his eye and
+looked at it, wondering what had caused the sudden blur.
+
+“There was a fine old man there in the bygone days,” said Johann.
+
+“And who was he?”
+
+“Lord Fitzgerald, the British minister. He and Leopold were close
+friends.” Johann's investigating gaze went unrewarded. The Englishman's
+face had resumed its expression of mild curiosity.
+
+“Ah; a compatriot of mine,” he said. Inwardly he mused: “This guide is
+watching me; let him catch me if he can. His duchess? I know far too
+much of her!”
+
+“He was a millionaire, too,” went on Johann.
+
+“Well, we can't all be rich. Come.”
+
+They crossed the Strasse and traversed the walk at the side of the
+palace enclosures. The Englishman aimlessly trailed his cane along the
+green pickets of the fence till they ended in a stone arch which rose
+high over the driveway. The gates were open, and coming toward the two
+wanderers as they stood at the curb rolled the royal barouche, on
+each side of which rode a mounted cuirassier, sashed and helmeted. The
+Englishman, however, had observed nothing; he was lost in some dream.
+
+“Look, Herr!” cried Johann, rousing the other by a pull at the sleeve.
+“Look!” Socialist though he claimed to be, Johann touched his cap.
+
+In the barouche, leaning back among the black velvet cushions, her face
+mellowed by the shade of a small parasol, was a young woman of nineteen
+or twenty, as beautiful as a da Vinci freshly conceived. The Englishman
+saw a pair of grave dark eyes which, in the passing, met his and held
+them. He caught his breath.
+
+“Who is that?” he asked.
+
+“That is her Royal Highness the Crown Princess Alexia.”
+
+Afterward the Englishman remembered seeing a white dog lying on the
+opposite seat.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. AN ADVENTURE WITH ROYALTY
+
+Maurice Carewe, attached to the American legation in Vienna, leaned
+against the stone parapet which separated the terraced promenade of the
+Continental Hotel from the Werter See, and wondered what had induced him
+to come to Bleiberg.
+
+He had left behind him the glory of September in Vienna, a city second
+only to Paris in fashion and gaiety; Vienna, with its inimitable bands,
+its incomparable gardens, its military maneuvers, its salons, its
+charming women; and all for a fool's errand. His Excellency was to
+blame. He had casually dropped the remark that the duchy's minister,
+Baron von Rumpf, had been given his passports as a persona non grata by
+the chancellor of the kingdom, and that a declaration of war was likely
+to follow. Maurice's dormant love of journalistic inquiry had become
+aroused, and he had asked permission to investigate the affair, a favor
+readily granted to him.
+
+But here he was, on the scene, and nobody knew anything, and nobody
+could tell anything. The duchess had remained silent. Not unnaturally he
+wished himself back in Vienna. There were no court fetes in the city
+of Bleiberg. The king's condition was too grave to permit them. And,
+besides, there had been no real court in Bleiberg for the space of ten
+years, so he was told. Those solemn affairs of the archbishop's, given
+once the week for the benefit of the corps diplomatique, were dull and
+spiritless. Her Royal Highness was seldom seen, save when she drove
+through the streets. Persons who remembered the reign before told what a
+mad, gay court it had been. Now it was funereal. The youth and beauty of
+Bleiberg held a court of its own. Royalty was not included, nor did it
+ask to be.
+
+A strange capital, indeed, Maurice reflected, as he gazed down into the
+cool, brown water. He regretted his caprice. There were pretty women in
+Vienna. Some of them belonged to the American colony. They danced well,
+they sang and played and rode. He had taught some of them how to fence,
+and he could not remember the times he had been “buttoned” while paying
+too much attention to their lips and eyes. For Maurice loved a thing
+of beauty, were it a woman, a horse or a Mediterranean sunset. What a
+difference between these two years in Vienna and that year in Calcutta!
+He never would forget the dingy office, with its tarnished sign, “U. S.
+Consul,” tacked insecurely on the door, and the utter loneliness.
+
+He cast a pebble into the lake, and watched the ripples roll away and
+disappear, and ruminated on a life full of color and vicissitude. He
+remembered the Arizona days, the endless burning sand, the dull routine
+of a cavalry trooper, the lithe brown bodies of the Apaches, the first
+skirmish and the last. From a soldier he had turned journalist, tramped
+the streets of Washington in rain and shine, living as a man lived who
+must.
+
+One day his star had shot up from the nadir of obscurity, not very far,
+but enough to bring his versatility under the notice of the discerning
+Secretary of State, who, having been a friend of the father, offered
+the son a berth in the diplomatic corps. A consulate in a South American
+republic, during a revolutionary crisis, where he had shown consummate
+skill in avoiding political complications (and where, by a shrewd
+speculation in gold, he had feathered his nest for his declining years),
+proved that the continual incertitude of a journalistic career is a fine
+basis for diplomatic work. From South America he had gone to Calcutta,
+thence to Austria.
+
+He was only twenty-nine, which age in some is youth. He possessed an old
+man's wisdom and a boy's exuberance of spirits. He laughed whenever he
+could; to him life was a panorama of vivid pictures, the world a
+vast theater to which somehow he had gained admission. His beardless
+countenance had deceived more than one finished diplomat, for it was
+difficult to believe that behind it lay an earnest purpose and a daring
+courage. If he bragged a little, quizzed graybeards, sought strange
+places, sported with convention, and eluded women, it was due to his
+restlessness. Yet, he had the secretiveness of sand; he absorbed, but
+he revealed nothing. He knew his friends; they thought they knew him. It
+was his delight to have women think him a butterfly, men write him down
+a fool; it covered up his real desires and left him free.
+
+What cynicism he had was mellowed by a fanciful humor. Whether with
+steel or with words, he was a master of fence; and if at times some one
+got under his guard, that some one knew it not. To let your enemy see
+that he has hit you is to give him confidence. He saw humor where no one
+else saw it, and tragedy where it was not suspected. He was one of those
+rare individuals who, when the opportunity of chance refuses to come,
+makes one.
+
+“Germany and Austria are great countries,” he mused, lighting a cigar.
+“Every hundredth man is a king, one in fifty is a duke, every tenth man
+is a prince, and one can not take a corner without bumping into a
+count or a baron. Even the hotel waiters are disquieting; there is that
+embarrassing atmosphere about them which suggests nobility in durance
+vile. As for me, I prefer Kentucky, where every man is a colonel, and
+you never make a mistake. And these kingdoms!” He indulged in subdued
+laughter. “They are always like comic operas. I find myself looking
+around every moment for the merry villagers so happy and so gay (at
+fifteen dollars the week), the eternal innkeeper and the perennial
+soubrette his daughter, the low comedian and the self-conscious tenor.
+Heigho! and not a soul in Bleiberg knows me, nor cares.
+
+“I'd rather talk five minutes to a pretty woman than eat stuffed
+pheasants the year around, and the stuffed pheasant is about all
+Bleiberg can boast of. Well, here goes for a voyage of discovery;” and
+he passed down the stone steps to the pier, quite unconscious of the
+admiring glances of the women who fluttered back and forth on the wide
+balconies above.
+
+It was four o'clock in the afternoon; a fresh wind redolent of pine and
+resin blew across the lake. Maurice climbed into a boat and pulled away
+with a strong, swift stroke, enjoying the liberation of his muscles. A
+quarter of a mile out he let the oars drift and took his bearings. He
+saw the private gardens of the king and the archbishop, and, convinced
+that a closer view would afford him entertainment, he caught up the oars
+again and moved inland.
+
+The royal gardens ran directly into the water, while those of the
+archbishop were protected by a wall of brick five or six feet in height,
+in the center of which was a gate opening on the water. Behind the gate
+was a small boat dock. Maurice plied the oars vigorously. He skirted the
+royal gardens, and the smell of newly mown lawns filled the air. Soon he
+was gliding along the sides of the moss-grown walls. A bird chirped in
+the overhanging boughs. He was about to cast loose the oars again, when
+the boat was brought to a violent stop. A few yards waterward from the
+gate there lay, hidden in the shadowed water, a sunken pier. On one of
+the iron piles the boat had become impaled.
+
+Maurice was tumbled into the bow of the boat, which began rapidly to
+fill. First he swore, then he laughed, for he was possessed of infinite
+good humor. The only thing left for him to do was to swim for the gate.
+With a rueful glance at his thin clothes, he dropped himself over the
+side of the wreck and struck out toward the gate. The water, having its
+source from the snowclad mountains, was icy. He was glad enough to grasp
+the lower bars of the gate and draw himself up. He was on the point of
+climbing over, when a picture presented itself to his streaming eyes.
+
+Seated on a bench made of twisted vine was a young girl. She held in her
+hand a book, but she was not reading it. She was scanning the unwritten
+pages of some reverie; her eyes, dark, large and wistful, were holding
+communion with the god of dreams. A wisp of hair, glossy as coal,
+trembled against a cheek white as the gown she wore.
+
+At her side, blinking in the last rays of the warm sun, sat a bulldog,
+toothless and old. Now and then a sear leaf, falling in a zig-zag
+course, rustled past his ears, and he would shake his head as if he,
+too, were dreaming and the leaves disturbed him. All at once he sniffed,
+his ears stood forward, and a low growl broke the enchantment. The
+girl, on discovering Maurice, closed the book and rose. The dog, still
+growling, jumped down and trotted to the gate. Maurice thought that it
+was time to speak.
+
+“Mademoiselle,” he said, “pardon this intrusion, but my boat has met
+with an accident.”
+
+The girl came to the gate. “Why, Monsieur,” she exclaimed, “you are
+wet!”
+
+“That is true,” replied Maurice, his teeth beginning to knock together.
+“I was forced to swim. If you will kindly open the gate and guide me to
+the street, I shall be much obliged to you.”
+
+The gate swung outward, and in a moment Maurice was on dry land, or the
+next thing to it, which was the boat-dock.
+
+“Thank you,” he said.
+
+“O! And you might have been drowned,” compassion lighting her beautiful
+eyes. “Sit down on the bench, Monsieur, for you must be weak. And it was
+that sunken pier? I shall speak to Monseigneur; he must have it
+removed. Bull, stop growling; you are very impolite; the gentleman is in
+distress.”
+
+Maurice sat down, not because he was weak, but because the desire to
+gain the street had suddenly subsided. Who was this girl who could say
+“must” to the formidable prelate? His quick eye noticed that she showed
+no sign of embarrassment. Indeed, she impressed him as one who was
+superior to that petty disturbance of collected thought. Somehow it
+seemed to him, as she stood there looking down at him, that he, too,
+should be standing. But she put forth a hand with gentle insistence when
+he made as though to rise. What an exquisite face, he thought. Against
+the whiteness of her skin her lips burned like poppy petals. Innocent,
+inquisitive eyes smiled gently, eyes in whose tranquil depths lay the
+glory of the world, asleep. Presently a color, faint and fugitive,
+dimmed the whiteness of her cheeks. Maurice, conscious of his rudeness
+and of a warmth in his own cheeks, instinctively lowered his gaze.
+
+“Pardon my rudeness,” he said.
+
+“What is your name, Monsieur,” she asked calmly.
+
+“It is Maurice Carewe. I am living in Vienna. I came to Bleiberg for
+pleasure, but the first day has not been propitious,” with an apologetic
+glance at his dripping clothes.
+
+“Maurice Carewe,” slowly repeating the full name as if to imprint it on
+her memory. “You are English?”
+
+He said: “No; I am one of those dreadful Yankees you have possibly read
+about.”
+
+Her teeth gleamed. “Yes, I have heard of them. But you do not appear so
+very dreadful; though at present you are truly not at your best. What is
+this--this Yankeeland like?”
+
+“It would take me ever so long to tell you about it, it is such a great
+country.”
+
+“You are a patriot!” clapping her hands. “No other country is so
+fine and large and great as your own. But tell me, is it as large as
+Austria?”
+
+“Austria? You will not be offended if I tell you?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Well,” with fun in his eyes, “it is my opinion that I could hide
+Austria in my country so thoroughly that nobody would ever be able to
+find it again.” He wondered how she would accept this statement.
+
+She lifted her chin and laughed, and the bulldog wagged his tail, as
+he always did when mirth touched her. He jumped up beside Maurice and
+looked into his face. Maurice patted his broad head, and he submitted.
+The girl looked rather surprised.
+
+“Are you a magician?” she asked.
+
+“Why?”
+
+“Bull never makes friends.”
+
+“But I do,” said Maurice; “perhaps he understands that, and comes
+half-way. But it is rather strange to see a bulldog in this part of the
+country.”
+
+“He was given to me, years ago, by an Englishman.”
+
+“That accounts for it.” He was experiencing a deal of cold, but he dared
+not mention it. “And may I ask your name?”
+
+“Ah, Monsieur,” shyly, “to tell you my name would be to frighten you
+away.”
+
+“I am sure nothing could do that,” he declared earnestly. Had he been
+thinking of aught but her eyes he might have caught the significance of
+her words. But, then, the cold was numbing.
+
+She surveyed him with critical eyes. She saw a clean-shaven face, brown,
+handsome and eager, merry blue eyes, a chin firm and aggressive, a
+mischievous mouth, a forehead which showed the man of thought, a slim
+athletic form which showed the man of action--all of which combined to
+produce that indescribable air which attaches itself to the gentleman.
+
+“It is Alexia,” she said, after some hesitation, watching him closely to
+observe the effect.
+
+But he was as far away as ever. “Alexia what?”
+
+“Only Alexia,” a faint coquetry stealing into her glance.
+
+“O, then you are probably a maid?”
+
+“Y--es. But you are disappointed?”
+
+“No, indeed. You have put me more at ease. I suppose you serve the
+princess?”
+
+“Whenever I can,” demurely.
+
+He could not keep his eyes from hers. “They say that she is a very
+lonely princess.”
+
+“So lonely.” And the coquetry faded from her eyes as her glance wandered
+waterward and became fixed on some object invisible and far away. “Poor
+lonely princess!”
+
+Maurice was growing colder and colder, but he did not mind. He had
+wished for some woman to talk to; his wish had been granted. “I feel
+sorry for her, if what they say is true,” having no other words.
+
+“And what do they say, Monsieur?”
+
+“That she and her father have been socially ostracized. I should be
+proud to be her friend.” Once the words were gone from him, he saw
+their silliness. “A presumptuous statement,” he added; “I am an obscure
+foreigner.”
+
+“Friendship, Monsieur, is a thing we all should prize, all the more so
+when it is disinterested.”
+
+He said rapidly, for fear she might hear his teeth chatter: “They say
+she is very beautiful. Tell me what she is like.”
+
+“I am no judge of what men call beauty. As to her character, I believe I
+may recommend that. She is good.”
+
+He was sure that merriment twitched the corners of her lips, and he grew
+thoughtful. “Alexia. Is that not her Highness's name also?”
+
+“Yes, Monsieur; we have the same names.” Her eyes fell, and she began to
+finger the pages of the book.
+
+“I am rested now,” he said, with a sudden distrust. “I thank you.”
+
+“Come, then, and I will show you the way to the gate.”
+
+“I am sorry to have troubled you,” he said.
+
+She did not reply, and together they walked up the path. The plants
+were dying, and the odor of decay hovered about them. Splashes of rich
+vermilion crowned the treetops, leaves of gold, russet and faded green
+rustled on the ground. The sun was gone behind the hills, the lake was
+tinted with salmon and dun, and Maurice (who honestly would have liked
+to run) was turning purple, not from atmospheric effect, but from the
+partly congealed state of his blood. Already he was thinking that his
+adventure had turned out rather well. It was but a simple task for a man
+of his imagination to construct a pretty romance, with a kingdom for a
+background. A maid of honor, perhaps; no matter, he would find means for
+future communication. A glamour had fallen upon him.
+
+As to the girl, who had scarce spoken to a dozen young men in her life,
+she was comparing four faces; one of a visionary character of which she
+had dreamed for ten years, and three which had recently entered into the
+small circle of her affairs. It was little pleasure to her to talk to
+those bald diplomats, who were always saying what they did not mean,
+and meaning what they did not say. And the young officers in the palace
+never presumed to address her unless spoken to.
+
+What a monotonous life it was! She was like a bird in a cage, ever
+longing for freedom, not of the air, but of impulse. To be permitted to
+yield to the impulses of the heart! What a delightful thought that was!
+But she, she seemed apart from all which was desirable to youth. Women
+courtesied to her, men touched their hats; but homage was not what she
+wanted. To be free, that was all; to come and go at will; to laugh and
+to sing. But ever the specter of royal dignity walked beside her and
+held her captive.
+
+She was to wed a man on whom she looked with indifference, but wed him
+she must; it was written. A toy of ambition, she was neither more nor
+less. Ah, to be as her maids, not royal, but free. Of the three new
+faces one belonged to the man whom she was to wed; another was a tall,
+light-haired man whom she had seen from her carriage; the last walked by
+her side. And somehow, the visionary face, the faces of the man whom
+she was to wed and the light-haired man suddenly grew indistinct. She
+glanced from the corner of her eyes at Maurice, but meeting his glance,
+in which lay something that caused her uneasiness, her gaze dropped to
+the path.
+
+“I shall be pleased to tell her Highness that a stranger, who has not
+met her, who does not even suspect her rebel spirit, desires to be her
+friend.”
+
+“O, Mademoiselle,” he cried in alarm, “that desire was expressed in
+confidence.”
+
+“I know it. It is for that very reason I wish her to know. Have no fear,
+Monsieur;” and she laughed without mirth. “Her Highness will not send
+you to prison.”
+
+Close at hand Maurice discovered a cuirassier, who, on seeing them,
+saluted and stood attention. Maurice was puzzled.
+
+“Lieutenant,” said the girl, “Monsieur--Carewe?” turning to Maurice.
+
+“Yes, that is the name.”
+
+“Well, then, Monsieur Carewe has met with an accident; please escort
+him to the gate. I trust you will not suffer any inconvenience from the
+cold. Good evening, Monsieur Carewe.”
+
+She retraced her steps down the path. The bulldog followed. Once he
+looked back at Maurice, and stopped as if undecided, then went on.
+Maurice stared at the figure of the girl until it vanished behind a
+clump of rose bushes.
+
+“Well, Monsieur Carewe!” said the Lieutenant, a broad smile under his
+mustache.
+
+“I beg your pardon, Lieutenant. May I ask you who she is?”
+
+“What! You do not know?”
+
+Maurice suddenly saw light. “Her Royal Highness?” blankly.
+
+“Her Royal Highness, God bless her!” cried the Lieutenant heartily.
+
+“Amen to that,” replied Maurice, his agitation visible even to the
+officer.
+
+They arrived at the gate in silence. The cuirassier raised the bar,
+touched his helmet, and said, with something like an amused twinkle in
+his eyes: “Would Monsieur like to borrow my helmet for a space?”
+
+Maurice put up a hand to his water-soaked hair, and gave an ejaculation
+of dismay. He had forgotten all about his hat, which was by now, in-all
+probabilities, at the bottom of the lake.
+
+“Curse the luck!” he said, in English.
+
+“Curse the want of it, I should say!” was the merry rejoinder, also in
+English.
+
+Maurice threw back his head and laughed, and the cuirassier caught the
+infection.
+
+“However, there is some compensation for the hat,” said the cuirassier,
+straightening his helmet. “You are the first stranger who has spoken
+to her Highness this many a day. Did the dog take to your calves? Well,
+never mind; he has no teeth. It was only day before yesterday that the
+Marshal swore he'd have the dog shot. Poor dog! He is growing blind,
+too, or he'd never have risked his gums on the Marshal, who is all
+shins. If you will wait I will fetch you one of the archbishop's skull
+caps.”
+
+“Don't trouble yourself,” laughed Maurice. “What I need is not a hat,
+but a towel, and I'll get that at the hotel. George! I feel so like an
+ass. What is your name, Lieutenant?”
+
+“Von Mitter, Carl von Mitter, at your service. And you are Monsieur
+Carewe.”
+
+“Of the American legation in Vienna. Thanks for your trouble.”
+
+“None at all. You had better hurry along; your nails are growing black.”
+
+Maurice passed into the street. “Her Royal Highness!” he muttered.
+“The crown princess, and I never suspected. Her name is Alexia, and she
+serves the princess whenever she can! Maurice, you are an ass!”
+
+Having arrived at this conclusion, and brushing the dank hair from his
+eyes, he thrust his hands into his oozing pockets, and proceeded
+across the square toward the Continental, wondering if there was a rear
+entrance. Happily the adventure absorbed all his thoughts. He was quite
+unobservant of the marked attention bestowed on him. Carriages filled
+the Strasse, and many persons moved along the walks. It was the
+promenade hour. The water, which still dripped from his clothes and
+trickled from his shoes, left a conspicuous trail behind; and this
+alone, without the absence of a hat, would have made him the object of
+amused and wondering smiles.
+
+A gendarme stared at him, but seeing that he walked straight, said
+nothing. Maurice, however, was serenely unaware of what was passing
+around him. He did not notice even the tall, broad-shouldered man who,
+with a gun under his arm, brushed past him, followed by a round-faced
+German over whose back was slung a game-bag. The man with the gun was
+also oblivious of his surroundings. He bumped into several persons,
+who scowled at him, but offered no remonstrance after having taken his
+measure. The German put his pipe into his pocket and advanced a step.
+
+“The other gun, Herr,” he said, “would have meant the boar.”
+
+“So it would, perhaps,” was the reply.
+
+“We've done pretty good work these two days,” went on the German; but
+as the other appeared not to have heard he fell to the rear again, a
+sardonic smile flitting over his oily face.
+
+When Maurice reached the hotel cafe he left an order for a cognac to
+be sent to his room, whither he repaired at once. As he got into dry
+clothes he mused.
+
+“I wonder what sort of a man that crown prince is? Now, if I were he,
+an army could not keep me away from Bleiberg. Either he is no judge
+of beauty, or the peasant girls hereabout are something extraordinary.
+Pshaw! a man always makes an ass of himself on his wedding eve; the
+crown prince is simply starting in early. I believe I'll hang on here
+till the wedding day; a royal marriage is one of those things which I
+have yet to see. I have a fortnight or more to knock around in. I should
+like to know what the duchess will eventually do.”
+
+He sipped the last drop of the cognac and went down the stairs.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. BEHIND THE PUPPET BOOTH
+
+While the absent-minded hunter strode down toward the lower town, and
+Maurice sipped his cognac, the king lay in his bed in the palace and
+aimlessly fingered the counterpane. There was now no beauty in his face.
+It was furrowed and pale, and an endless fever burned in the sunken
+eyes--eyes like coals, which suddenly flare before they turn to ash.
+
+The archbishop nor the chancellor could see anything in the dim corners
+of the royal bed chamber, but he could. It was the mocking finger of
+death, and it was leveled at him. Spring had come, and summer and autumn
+and winter, and spring again, but he had not wandered through the green
+fields, except in dreams, and the byways he loved knew him no more. Ah,
+to sit still like a spectator and to see the world pass by! To be a part
+of it, and yet not of it! To see the glory of strength and vigor just
+beyond one's grasp, the staffs to lean on crumble to the touch, and the
+stars of hope fade away one by one from the firmament of one's dreams!
+Here was weariness for which there was no remedy.
+
+Day by day time pressed him on toward the inevitable. No human hand
+could stay him. He could think, but he could not act. He could move, but
+he could not stand nor walk. And that philosophy which had in other days
+sustained him was shattered and threadbare. He was dead, yet he lived.
+Fate has so many delicate ironies.
+
+He had tried to make his people love him, only to acquire their hate.
+He had reduced taxation, only to be scorned. He had made the city
+beautiful, only to be cursed. A paralytic, the theme of ribald verse,
+the butt of wineroom wits, the object of contumely to his people, his
+beneficiaries!
+
+The ingratitude of kings bites not half so deep as the ingratitude of
+the people. Tears filled his eyes, and he fumbled his lips. There were
+only two bright spots in his futile life. The first was his daughter,
+who read to him, who was the first in the morning to greet him and
+last at night to leave him. The second was the evening hour when the
+archbishop and the chancellor came in to discuss the affairs of state.
+
+“And Prince Frederick has not yet been heard from?” was his first
+inquiry.
+
+“No, Sire,” answered the chancellor. “The matter is altogether
+mysterious. The police can find no trace of him. He left Carnavia for
+Bleiberg; he stopped at Ehrenstein, directed his suite to proceed;
+there, all ends. The ambassador from Carnavia approached me to-day. He
+scouts the idea of a peasant girl, and hinted at other things.”
+
+“Yes,” said the king, “there is something behind all this. Frederick is
+not a youth of peccadilloes. Something has happened to him. But God send
+him safe and sound to us, so much depends on him. And Alexia?”
+
+“Says nothing,” the archbishop answered, “a way with her when troubled.”
+
+“And my old friend, Lord Fitzgerald?”
+
+The prelate shook his head sadly. “We have just been made acquainted
+with his death. God rest his kindly soul.”
+
+The king sank deeper into his pillows.
+
+“But we shall hear from his son within a few days,” continued the
+prelate, taking the king's hand in his own. “My son, cease to worry.
+Alexia's future is in good hands. I have confidence that the public debt
+will be liquidated on the twentieth.”
+
+“Or renewed,” said the chancellor. “Your Majesty must not forget that
+Prince Frederick sacrifices his own private fortune to adjust our
+indebtedness. That is the wedding gift which he offers to her Highness.
+One way or the other, we have nothing to fear.”
+
+
+“O!” cried the king, “I had forgotten that magnanimity. His
+disappearance is no longer a mystery. He is dead.”
+
+His auditors could not repress the start which this declaration caused
+them to make.
+
+“Sire,” said the chancellor, quietly, “princes are not assassinated
+these days. Our worry is perhaps all needless. The prince is young, and
+sometimes youth flings off the bridle and runs away. But he loves her
+Highness, and the Carnavians are not fickle.”
+
+The prelate and the statesman had different ideas in regard to the
+peasant girl. To the prelate a woman was an unknown quantity, and he
+frowned. The statesman, who had once been young, knew a deal about
+woman, and he smiled.
+
+“Sometimes, my friends,” said the king, “I can see beyond the human
+glance. I hear the crumbling of walls. But for that lonely child I could
+die in peace. The crown I wear is of lead; God hasten the day that lifts
+it from my brow.” When the king spoke again, he said: “And that insolent
+Von Rumpf is gone at last? I am easier. He should have been sent about
+his business ten years ago. What does Madame the duchess say?”
+
+“So little,” answered the chancellor, “that I begin to distrust her
+silence. But she is a wise woman, though her years are but five and
+twenty, and she will not make any foolish declaration of war which would
+only redound to her chagrin.”
+
+“What is the fascination in these crowns of straw?” said the king to the
+prelate. “Ah, my father, you strive for the crown to come; and yet your
+earnest but misguided efforts placed this earthly one on my head. You
+were ambitious for me.”
+
+“Nay,” and the prelate bent his head. “It was self that spoke, worldly
+aggrandizement. I wished--God forgive me!--to administer not to the
+prince but to the king. I am punished. The crown has broken your life.
+It was the passing glory of the world; and I fell.”
+
+“And were not my eyes as dazzled by the crown as yours were by the
+robes? Why did we leave the green hills of Osia? What destiny writes,
+fate must unfold. And oh, the dreams I had of being great! I am
+fifty-eight and you are seventy. And look; I am a broken twig, and you
+tower above me like an ancient oak, and as strong.” To the chancellor he
+said: “And what is the budget?”
+
+“Sire, it is fairly quiet in the lower town. The native troops have been
+paid, and all signs of discontent abated. The duchess can do nothing but
+replace von Rumpf. The Marshal is a straw in the wind; von Wallenstein
+and Mollendorf, I hold a sword above their necks. Nearly half the
+Diet is with us. There has been some strange meddling in the customs.
+Englishmen have brought me complaints, through the British legation,
+regarding such inspections as were never before heard of in a country
+at peace. I consulted the chief inspector and he affirmed the matter.
+He was under orders of the minister of police. It appears to me that
+a certain Englishman is to be kept out of the country for reasons well
+known to us. I have suspended police power over the customs. Ah, Sire,
+if you would but agree with Monseigneur to dismiss the cabinet.”
+
+“It is too late,” said the king.
+
+“There is only one flaw,” continued the chancellor. “This flaw is
+Colonel Beauvais, chief in command of the cuirassiers, who in authority
+stands between the Marshal and General Kronau. I fear him. Why?
+Instinct. He is too well informed of my projects for one thing; he
+laughs when I suggest in military affairs. Who is he? A Frenchman, if
+one may trust to a name; an Austrian, if one may trust from whence he
+came, recommended by the premier himself. He entered the cuirassiers as
+a Captain. You yourself, Sire, made him what he is--the real military
+adviser of the kingdom. But what of his past? No one knows, unless it be
+von Wallenstein, his intimate. I, for one, while I may be wrong, trust
+only those whose past I know, and even then only at intervals.”
+
+“Colonel Beauvais?” murmured the king. “I am sure that you are unjustly
+suspicious. How many times have I leaned on his stout arm! He taught
+Alexia a thousand tricks of horse, so that to-day she rides as no other
+woman in the kingdom rides. Would that I stood half so straight and
+looked at the world half so fearlessly. He is the first soldier in the
+kingdom.”
+
+“All men are honest in your Majesty's eyes,” said the archbishop.
+
+“All save the man within me,” replied the king.
+
+At this juncture the king's old valet came in with the evening meal; and
+soon after the prelate and the chancellor withdrew from the chamber.
+
+“How long will he live?” asked the latter.
+
+“A year; perhaps only till to-morrow. Ah, had he but listened to me
+several years ago, all this would not have come to pass. He would
+see nothing; he persisted in dreams. With the death of Josef he was
+convinced that his enemies had ceased to be. Had he listened, I should
+have dismissed the cabinet, and found enough young blood to answer
+my purposes; I should have surrounded him with a mercenary army two
+thousand strong; by now he should have stood strongly entrenched.
+
+“They have robbed him, but you and I were permitted to do nothing. Where
+is the prosperity of which we formerly boasted? I, too, hear crumbling
+walls. Yet, the son of this Englishman, whose strange freak is still
+unaccountable, will come at the appointed time; I know the race. He will
+renew the loan for another ten years. What a fancy! Lord Fitzgerald was
+an eccentric man. Given a purpose, he pursued it to the end, neither
+love nor friendship, nor fear swerved him. Do you know that he made
+a vow that Duke Josef should never sit on this throne, nor his
+descendants? What were five millions to him, if in giving them he
+realized the end? The king would never explain the true cause of this
+Englishman's folly, but I know that it was based on revenge, the cause
+of which also is a mystery. If only the prince were here!”
+
+“He will come; youth will be youth.”
+
+“Perhaps.”
+
+“You have never been young.”
+
+“Not in that particular sense to which you refer,” dryly.
+
+* * * * * *
+
+In the chamber of finance Colonel Beauvais leaned over the desk and
+perused the writing on a slip of paper which the minister had given him.
+Enough daylight remained to permit the letters to stand out legibly.
+When he had done the Colonel tossed back the missive, and the minister
+tore it into shreds and dropped them into the waste basket.
+
+“So much for your pains,” said Beauvais. “The spy, who has eaten up ten
+thousand crowns, is not worth his salt. He has watched this man Hamilton
+for two days, been his guide in the hills, and yet learns nothing. And
+the rigor of the customs is a farce.”
+
+“This day,” replied the minister, “the police lost its jurisdiction over
+the customs. Complaints have been entered at the British legation, which
+forwarded them to the chancellor.”
+
+“O ho!” The Colonel pulled his mustache.
+
+“I warned you against this. The chancellor is a man to be respected,
+whatever his beliefs. I warned you and Mollendorf of the police what the
+result would be. The chancellor has a hard hand when it falls. He was
+always bold; now he is more so since he practically stands alone. In
+games of chance one always should play close. You are in a hurry.”
+
+“I have waited six years.”
+
+“And I have waited fourteen.”
+
+“Well, then, I shall pass into the active. I shall watch this Englishman
+myself. He is likely to prove the agent. Count, the time for waiting
+is gone. If the debt is liquidated or renewed--and there is Prince
+Frederick to keep in mind--we shall have played and lost. Disgrace for
+you; for me--well, perhaps there is a power behind me too strong.
+The chancellor? Pouf! I have no fear of him. But you who laugh at the
+archbishop--”
+
+“He is too old.”
+
+“So you say. But he has dreams unknown to us. He has ceased to act;
+why? He is waiting for the curtain to rise. Nothing escapes him; he is
+letting us go to what end we will, only, if we do not act at once,
+to draw us to a sudden halt. Now to this meddling Englishman: we have
+offered him a million--five millions for four. He laughs. He is a
+millionaire. With characteristic bombast he declares that money has no
+charms. For six months, since his father's death, we have hounded him,
+in vain. It is something I can not understand. What is Leopold to these
+Englishmen that they risk a princely fortune to secure him his throne?
+Friendship? Bah, there is none.”
+
+“Not in France nor in Austria. But this man was an Englishman; they
+leave legacies of friendship.”
+
+The Colonel walked to the window and looked down into the gardens. He
+remained there for a time. Von Wallenstein eyed him curiously. Presently
+the soldier returned to his seat.
+
+“We are crossing a chasm; a man stands in our way; as we can not go
+around him, we, being the stronger, push him aside. Eh?”
+
+“You would not kill--” began the minister.
+
+“Let us use the French meaning of the word `suppress.' And why not?
+Ambition, wherever it goes, leaves a trail of blood. What is a human
+life in this game we play? A leaf, a grain of sand.”
+
+“But, since the prince promises to liquidate the debt, what matters it
+if the Englishman comes? It is all one and the same.”
+
+“Within twenty, nay, within fifteen days, what may not happen?”
+
+“You are ambitious,” said von Wallenstein, slyly.
+
+“And who is not?”
+
+“Is a Marshal's baton so much, then, above your present position? You
+are practically the head of the army.”
+
+“A valiant army!” laughing; “five thousand men. Why, Madame the duchess
+has six thousand and three batteries.”
+
+“Her army of six thousand is an expedient; you can raise volunteers to
+the amount of ten thousand.”
+
+“To be sure I could; but supposing I did not want to?”
+
+The minister dropped his gaze and began fingering the paper cutter. The
+Colonel's real purpose was still an enigma to him. “Come, you have the
+confidence of the king, the friendship of her Royal Highness. What do
+you gain in serving us? The baton?”
+
+“You embarrass me. Questions? I should not like to lie to you. Batons
+were fine things when Louises and Napoleons conferred them. I have
+thrown my dice into the common cup; let that be sufficient.”
+
+“A man who comes from a noble house such as you come from--”
+
+“Ah, count, that was never to be referred to. Be content with my brain
+and sword. And then, there is the old saying, Give a man an ell, and
+look to your rod. We are all either jackals or lions, puppets or men
+behind the booth. I am a lion.” He rose, drew his saber half-way from
+the scabbard, and sent it slithering back. “In a fortnight we put it
+to the touch to win or lose it all, as the poet says. Every man for
+himself, and let the strongest win, say I.”
+
+“You are playing two games,” coldly.
+
+“And you? Is it for pure love of Madame the duchess that you risk your
+head? Come, as you say; admit that you wish to see my hand without
+showing yours. A baton is not much for me, as you have hinted, but it is
+all that was promised me. And you, if we win, will still be minister of
+finances? What is that maggot I see behind your eyes? Is it not spelled
+`chancellor'? But, remember, Madame has friends to take care of in
+the event of our success. We can not have all the spoils. To join the
+kingdom and the duchy will create new offices, to be sure, but we can
+have only part of them. As to games, I shall, out of the kindness in my
+heart, tell you that I am not playing two, but three. Guess them if you
+can. Next to the chancellorship is the embassy to Vienna, and an embassy
+to Paris is to be created. Madame is a superior woman. Who knows?” with
+a smile that caused the other to pale.
+
+“You are mad to dream of that.”
+
+“As you say, I come of a noble house,” carelessly.
+
+“You are mad.”
+
+“No, count,” the soldier replied. “I have what Balzac calls a thirst for
+a full life in a short space.”
+
+“I would give a deal to read what is going on in that head of yours.”
+
+“Doubtless. But what is to become of our friends the Marshal and
+Mollendorf? What will be left for them? Perhaps there will be a chamber
+of war, a chamber of the navy. As a naval minister the Marshal would
+be nicely placed. There would be no expense of building ships or paying
+sailors, which would speak well for the economy of the new government.
+The Marshal is old; we shall send him to Servia. At least the office
+will pay both his vanity and purse to an extent equal to that of his
+present office. By the way, nothing has yet been heard from Prince
+Frederick. Ah, these young men, these plump peasant girls!”
+
+Both laughed.
+
+“Till this evening, then;” and the Colonel went from the room.
+
+The minister of finance applied a match to the tapers. He held the
+burning match aloft and contemplated the door through which the soldier
+had gone. The sting of the incipient flame aroused him.
+
+“What,” he mused aloud, as he arranged the papers on his desk, “is his
+third game?”
+
+“It appears to me,” said a voice from the wall behind, “that the same
+question arises in both our minds.”
+
+The minister wheeled his chair, his mouth and brows puckered in dismay.
+From a secret panel in the wall there stepped forth a tall, thin,
+sour-visaged old man of military presence. He calmly sat down in the
+chair which Beauvais had vacated.
+
+“I had forgotten all about you, Marshal!” exclaimed the count, smiling
+uneasily.
+
+“A statement which I am most ready to believe,” replied old Marshal
+Kampf, with a glance which caused the minister yet more uneasiness.
+“What impressed me among other things was, `But what is to become of our
+friends the Marshal and Mollendorf?' I am Marshal; I am about to risk
+all for nothing. Why should I not remain Marshal for the remainder of
+my days? It is a pleasant thing to go to Vienna once the year and to
+witness the maneuvers, with an honorary position on the emperor's staff.
+To be Marshal here is to hold a sinecure, yet it has its compensations.
+The uniforms, gray and gold, are handsome; it is an ostrich plume that I
+wear in my chapeau de bras; the medals are of gold. My friend, it is the
+vanity of old age which forgives not.” And the Marshal, the bitterest
+tongue in all Bleiberg, reached over and picked up the cigar which lay
+by the inkwells. He lit it at one of the tapers, and sank again into the
+chair. “Count, how many games are you playing?”
+
+“My dear Marshal, it was not I who spoke of games. I am playing no game,
+save for the legitimate sovereign of this kingdom. I ask for no reward.”
+
+“Disinterested man! The inference is, however, that, since you have not
+asked for anything, you have been promised something. Confess it, and
+have done.”
+
+“Marshal!”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“Is it possible that you suspect me?” The cold eyes grew colder, and the
+thin lips almost disappeared.
+
+“When three men watch each other as do Beauvais, Mollendorf and you, it
+is because each suspects the other of treachery. You haven't watched
+me because I am old, but because I am old I have been watching
+you. Mollendorf aspires to greatness, you have your gaze on the
+chancellorship, and curse me if the Colonel isn't looking after my old
+shoes! Am I to give up my uniform, my medals and my plume--for nothing?
+And who the devil is this man Beauvais, since that is not his name? Is
+he a fine bird whose feathers have been plucked?”
+
+The minister did not respond to the question; he began instead to fidget
+in his chair.
+
+“When I gave my word to his Highness the duke, it was without
+conditions. I asked no favors; I considered it my duty. Let us come to
+an understanding. Material comfort is necessary to a man of my age.
+Fine phrases and a medal or two more do not count. I am, then, to go to
+Servia. You were very kind to hide me in your cabinet.”
+
+“It was to show you that I had no secrets from you,” quickly.
+
+“Let us pass on. Mollendorf is to go to Paris, where he will be a
+nonentity, while in his present office he is a power in the land--Devil
+take me, but it seems to me that we are all a pack of asses! Our gains
+will not be commensurate with our losses. The navy? Well, we'll let that
+pass; the Colonel, I see, loves a joke.”
+
+“You forget our patriotism for the true house.”
+
+“Why not give it its true name--self-interest?”
+
+“Marshal, in heaven's name, what has stirred your bile?” The minister
+was losing his patience, a bad thing for him to do in the presence of
+the old warrior.
+
+“It is something I've been swallowing this past year.” The Marshal
+tipped the ash of his cigar into the waste basket.
+
+“Marshal, will you take the word not of the minister, but of the von
+Wallenstein, that whatever my reward shall be for my humble services,
+yours shall not be less?”
+
+“Thanks, but I have asked for no reward. If I accepted gain for what I
+do, I should not be too old to blush.”
+
+“I do not understand.”
+
+“Self-interest blinds us. I have nothing but pity for this king whose
+only crime is an archbishop; and I can not accept gain at his expense; I
+should blush for shame. Had I my way, he should die in peace. He has
+not long to live. The archbishop--well, we can not make kings, they are
+born. But there is one thing more: Over all your schemes is the shadow
+of Austria.”
+
+“Austria?”
+
+“Yes. The Colonel speaks of a power behind him. Bismarck looks
+hungrily toward Schleswig-Holstein. Austria casts amorous eyes at us.
+A protectorate? We did not need it. It was forced on us. When Austria
+assumed to dictate to us as to who should be king, she also robbed us of
+our true independence. Twenty years ago there was no duchy; it was all
+one kingdom. Who created this duchy when Albrecht came on the throne?
+Austria. Why? If we live we shall read.” He rose, shook his lean legs.
+“I have been for the most part neutral. I shall remain neutral. There is
+an undercurrent on which you have failed to reckon. Austria, mistress
+of the confederation. There are two men whom you must watch. One is the
+archbishop.”
+
+“The archbishop?” The minister was surprised that the Marshal should
+concur with the Colonel. “And the other?”
+
+“Your friend the Colonel,” starting for the door.
+
+The minister smiled. “Will you not dine with me?” he asked.
+
+“Thanks. But I have the Servian minister on my hands to-night. A propos,
+tell the Colonel that I decline Belgrade. I prefer to die at home.” And
+he vanished.
+
+Von Wallenstein reviewed the statements of both his visitors.
+
+“I shall watch Monseigneur the archbishop.” Then he added, with a
+half-smile: “God save us if the Marshal's sword were half so sharp as
+his tongue! It was careless of me to forget that I had shut him up in
+the cabinet.”
+
+Meanwhile Beauvais walked slowly toward his quarters, with his saber
+caught up under his arm. Once he turned and gazed at the palace, whose
+windows began to flash with light.
+
+“Yes, they are puppets and jackals, and I am the lion. For all there
+shall serve my ends. I shall win, and when I do--” He laughed silently.
+“Well, I am a comely man, and Madame the duchess shall be my wife.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. MADEMOISELLE OF THE VEIL
+
+The public park at night was a revelation to Maurice, who, lonely and
+restless, strolled over from the hotel in quest of innocent amusement.
+He was none the worse for his unintended bath; indeed, if anything,
+he was much the better for it. His imagination was excited. It was not
+every day that a man could, at one and the same time, fall out of a boat
+and into the presence of a princess of royal blood.
+
+He tried to remember all he had said to her, but only two utterances
+recurred to him; yet these caused him an exhilaration like the bouquet
+of old wine. He had told her that she was beautiful, indirectly, it was
+true; she had accepted his friendship, also indirectly, it was true. Now
+the logical sequence of all this was--but he broke into a light laugh.
+What little vanity he possessed was without conceit. Princesses of royal
+blood were beyond the reach of logical sequence; and besides, she was to
+be married on the twentieth of the month.
+
+He followed one of the paths which led to the pavilion. It was a
+charming scene, radiant with gas lamps, the vivid kaleidoscope of gowns
+and uniforms. Beautiful faces flashed past him. There were in the air
+the vague essences of violet, rose and heliotrope. Sometimes he caught
+the echo of low laughter or the snatch of a gay song. The light of
+the lamps shot out on the crinkled surface of the lake in tongues of
+quivering flame, which danced a brave gavot with the phantom stars; and
+afar twinkled the dipping oars. The brilliant pavilion, which rested
+partly over land and partly over water, was thronged.
+
+The band was playing airs from the operas of the day, and Maurice
+yielded to the spell of the romantic music. He leaned over the pavilion
+rail, and out of the blackness below he endeavored to conjure up the
+face of Nell (or was it Kate?) who had danced with him at the embassies
+in Vienna, fenced and ridden with him, till--till--with a gesture of
+impatience he flung away the end of his cigar.
+
+Memory was altogether too elusive. It was neither Nell nor Kate he
+saw smiling up at him, nor anybody else in the world but the Princess
+Alexia, whose eyes were like wine in a sunset, whose lips were as red
+as the rose of Tours in France, and whose voice was sweeter than that
+throbbing up from the 'cello. If he thought much more of her, there
+would be a logical sequence on his side. He laughed again--with an
+effort--and settled back in his chair to renew his interest in the
+panorama revolving around him.
+
+“They certainly know how to live in these countries,” he thought,
+“for all their comic operas. All I need, to have this fairy scene made
+complete, is a woman to talk to. By George, what's to hinder me from
+finding one?” he added, seized by the spirit of mischief. He turned
+his head this way and that. “Ah! doubtless there is the one I'm looking
+for.”
+
+Seated alone at a table behind him was a woman dressed in gray. Her
+back was toward him, but he lost none of the beautiful contours of her
+figure. She wore a gray alpine hat, below the rim of which rebellious
+little curls escaped, curls of a fine red-brown, which, as they trailed
+to the nape of the firm white neck, lightened into a ruddy gold. Her
+delicate head was turned aside, and to all appearances her gaze was
+directed to the entrance to the pavilion. A heavy blue veil completely
+obscured her features; though Maurice could see a rose-tinted ear and
+the shadow of a curving chin and throat, which promised much. To a man
+there is always a mystery lurking behind a veil. So he rose, walked past
+her, returned and deliberately sat down in the chair opposite to hers.
+The fact that gendarmes moved among the crowd did not disturb him.
+
+“Good evening, Mademoiselle,” he said, politely lifting his hat.
+
+She straightened haughtily. “Monsieur,” she said, resentment,
+consternation and indignation struggling to predominate in her tones, “I
+did not give you permission to sit down. You are impertinent!”
+
+“O, no,” Maurice declared. “I am not impertinent. I am lonesome. In all
+Bleiberg I haven't a soul to talk to, excepting the hotel waiters, and
+they are uninteresting. Grant me the privilege of conversing with you
+for a moment. We shall never meet again; and I should not know you if we
+did. Whether you are old or young, plain or beautiful, it matters not.
+My only wish is to talk to a woman, to hear a woman's voice.”
+
+“Shall I call a gendarme, Monsieur, and have him search for your nurse?”
+ The attitude which accompanied these words was anything but assuring.
+
+He, however, evinced no alarm. He even laughed. “That was good! We shall
+get along finely, I am sure.”
+
+“Monsieur,” she said, rising, “I repeat that I do not desire your
+company, nor to remain in the presence of your unspeakable effrontery.”
+
+“I beseech you!” implored Maurice, also rising. “I am a foreigner,
+lonesome, unhappy, thousands of miles from home--”
+
+“You are English?” suddenly. She stood with the knuckle of her
+forefinger on her lips as if meditating. She sat down.
+
+Maurice, greatly surprised, also sat down.
+
+“English?” he repeated. His thought was: “What the deuce! This is the
+third time I have been asked that. Who is this gay Lothario the women
+seem to be expecting?” To her he continued: “And why do you ask me
+that?”
+
+“Perhaps it is your accent. And what do you wish to say to me,
+Monsieur?” It was a voice of quality; all the anger had gone from it.
+She leaned on her elbows, her chin in her palms, and through the veil
+he caught the sparkle of a pair of wonderful eyes. “Let us converse in
+English,” she added. “It is so long since I have had occasion to speak
+in that tongue.” She repeated her question.
+
+“O, I had no definite plan outlined,” he answered; “just generalities,
+with the salt of repartee to season.” He pondered over this sudden
+transition from wrath to mildness. An Englishman? Very well; it might
+grow interesting.
+
+“Is it customary among the English to request to speak to strangers
+without the usual formalities of an introduction?”
+
+“I can not say that it is,” he answered truthfully enough; “but the
+procedure is never without a certain charm and excitement.”
+
+“Ah; then you were led to address me merely by the love of adventure?”
+
+“That is it; the love of adventure. I should not have spoken to you had
+you not worn the veil.” He remarked that her English was excellent.
+
+“You differ from the average Englishman, who is usually wrapt up
+in himself and has no desire to talk to strangers. You have been a
+soldier.”
+
+The evolutions of his cane ceased. “How in the world did you guess
+that?” surprised beyond measure.
+
+“Perhaps there is something suggestive in your shoulders.”
+
+He tried to peer behind the veil, but in vain. “Am I speaking to one I
+have met before?”
+
+“I believe not; indeed, sir, I am positive.”
+
+“I have been a soldier, but my shoulders did not tell you that.”
+
+“Perhaps I have the gift of clairvoyance,” gazing again toward the
+entrance.
+
+“Or perhaps you have been to Vienna.”
+
+“Who knows? Most Englishmen are, or have been, soldiers.”
+
+“That is true.” Inwardly, “There's my friend the Englishman again. She's
+guessing closer than she knows. Curious; she has mistaken me for some
+one she does not know, if that is possible.” He was somewhat in a
+haze. “Well, you have remarkable eyes. However, let us talk of a more
+interesting subject; for instance, yourself. You, too, love adventure,
+that is, if I interpret the veil rightly.”
+
+“Yes; I like to see without being seen. But, of course, behind this love
+of adventure which you possess, there is an important mission.”
+
+“Ah!” he thought; “you are not quite sure of me.” Aloud, “Yes, I came
+here to witness the comic opera.”
+
+“The comic opera? I do not understand?”
+
+“I believed there was going to be trouble between the duchy and the
+kingdom, but unfortunately the prima donna has refused the part.”
+
+“The prima donna!” in a muffled voice. “Whom do you mean?”
+
+“Son Altesse la Grande Duchesse! 'Voici le sabre de mon pere!'” And he
+whistled a bar from Offenbach, his eyes dancing.
+
+“Sir!--I!--you do wrong to laugh at us!” a flash from the half-hidden
+eyes.
+
+“Forgive me if I have offended you, but I--”
+
+“Ah, sir, but you who live in a powerful country think we little folk
+have no hearts, that we have no wrongs to redress, no dreams of conquest
+and of power. You are wrong.”
+
+“And whose side do you defend?”
+
+“I am a woman,” was the equivocal answer.
+
+“Which means that you are uncertain.”
+
+“I have long ago made up my mind.”
+
+“Wonderful! I always thought a woman's mind was like a time-table,
+subject to change without notice. So you have made up your mind?”
+
+“I was born with its purpose defined,” coldly.
+
+“Ah, now I begin to doubt.”
+
+“What?” with a still lower degree of warmth.
+
+“That you are a woman. Only goddesses do not change their
+minds--sometimes. Well, then you are on the weaker side.”
+
+“Or the stronger, since there are two sides.”
+
+“And the stronger?” persistently.
+
+“The side which is not the weaker. But the subject is what you English
+call 'taboo.' It is treading on delicate ground to talk politics in the
+open--especially in Bleiberg.”
+
+“What a diplomat you would make!” he cried with enthusiasm. Certainly
+this was a red-letter day in his calendar. This adventure almost
+equalled the other, and, besides, in this instance, his skin was dry; he
+could enjoy it more thoroughly. Who could this unknown be? “If only you
+understood the mystery with which you have enshrouded yourself!”
+
+“I do.” She drew the veil more firmly about her chin.
+
+“Grant me a favor.”
+
+“I am talking to you, sir.”
+
+This candor did not disturb him. “The favor I ask is that you will lift
+the corner of your veil; otherwise you will haunt me.”
+
+“I am doomed to haunt you, then. If I should lift the corner of my veil
+something terrible would happen.”
+
+“What! Are you as beautiful as that?”
+
+There was a flash of teeth behind the veil, followed by the ripple of
+soft laughter. “It is difficult to believe you to be English. You are
+more like one of those absurd Americans.”
+
+Maurice did not like the adjective. “I am one of them,” wondering what
+the effect of this admission would be. “I am not English, but of the
+brother race. Forgive me if I have imposed on you, but it was your
+fault. You said that I was English, and I was too lonesome to enlighten
+you.”
+
+“You are an American?” She began to tap her gloved fingers against the
+table.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+Then, to his astonishment, she gave way to laughter, honest and hearty.
+“How dense of me not to have known the moment you addressed me! Who
+but the American holds in scorn custom's formalities and usages? Your
+grammar is good, so good that my mistake is pardonable. The American is
+always like the terrible infant; and you are a choice example.”
+
+Maurice was not so pleased as he might have been. His ears burned.
+Still, he went forward bravely. “A man never pretends to be an
+Englishman without getting into trouble.”
+
+“I did not ask to speak to you. No one ever pretends to be an American.
+Why is it you are always ashamed of your country?” with malice
+aforethought.
+
+Maurice experienced the sting of many bees. “I see that your experience
+is limited to impostors. I, Mademoiselle, am proud of my country, the
+great, free land which stands aside from the turmoil and laughs at your
+petty squabbles, your kings, your princes. Laugh at me; I deserve it for
+not minding my own business, but do not laugh at my country.” His face
+was flushed; he was almost angry. It was not her words; it was the
+contempt with which she had invested them. But immediately he was
+ashamed of his outburst. “Ah, Mademoiselle, you have tricked me; you
+have found the vulnerable part in my armor. I have spoken like a child.
+Permit me to apologize for my apparent lack of breeding.” He rose,
+bowed, and made as though to depart.
+
+“Sit down, Monsieur,” she said, picking up her French again. “I forgive
+you. I do more; I admire. I see that your freak had nothing behind it
+but mischief. No woman need fear a man who colors when his country is
+made the subject of a jest.”
+
+All his anger evaporated. This was an invitation, and he accepted it. He
+resumed his seat.
+
+“The truth is, as I remarked, I was lonesome. I know that I have
+committed a transgression, but the veil tempted me.”
+
+“It is of no matter. A few moments, and you will be gone. I am waiting
+for some one. You may talk till that person comes.” Her voice was now
+in its natural tone; and he was convinced that if her face were half
+as sweet, she must possess rare beauty. “Hush!” as the band began to
+breathe forth Chopin's polonaise. They listened until the music ceased.
+
+“Ah!” said he rapturously, “the polonaise! When you hear it, does there
+not recur to you some dream of bygone happy hours, the sibilant murmur
+of fragrant night winds through the crisp foliage, the faint call
+of Diana's horn from the woodlands, moon-fairies dancing on the
+spider-webs, the glint of the dew on the roses, the far-off music of the
+surges tossing impotently on the sands, the forgetfulness of time and
+place and care, and not a cloud 'twixt you and the heavens? Ah, the
+polonaise!”
+
+“Surely you must be a poet!” declared the Veil, when this panegyric was
+done.
+
+“No,” said he modestly, “I never was quite poor enough for that exalted
+position.” He had recovered his good humor.
+
+“Indeed, you begin to interest me. What is your occupation when not in
+search of--comic operas?”
+
+“I serve Ananias.”
+
+“Ananias?” A pause. “Ah, you are a diplomat?”
+
+“How clever of you to guess.”
+
+“Yours is a careless country,” observed the Veil.
+
+“Careless?” mystified.
+
+“Yes, to send forth her green and salad youth. Eh, bien! There are
+hopes for you. If you live you will grow old; you will become bald and
+reserved; you will not speak to strangers, to while away an idle hour;
+for permit me, Monsieur, who am wise, to tell you that it is a dangerous
+practice.”
+
+“And do I look so very young?”
+
+“Your beard is that of a boy.”
+
+“David slew Goliath.”
+
+“At least you have a ready tongue,” laughing.
+
+“And you told me that I had been a soldier.”
+
+But to this she had nothing to say.
+
+“I am older than you think, Mademoiselle of the Veil. I have been a
+soldier; I have seen hard service, too. Mine is no cushion sword. Youth?
+'Tis a virtue, not a crime; and, besides, it is an excellent disguise.”
+
+For some time she remained pensive.
+
+“You are thinking of something, Mademoiselle.”
+
+“Do you like adventure?”
+
+“I subsist on it.”
+
+“You have been a soldier; you are, then, familiar with the use of arms?”
+
+“They tell me so,” modestly. What was coming?
+
+“I have some influence. May I trust you?”
+
+“On my honor,” puzzled, yet eager.
+
+“There may be a comic opera, as you call it. War is not so impossible as
+to be laughed at. The dove may fly away and the ravens come.”
+
+“Who in thunder might this woman be?” he thought.
+
+“And,” went on the Veil, “an extra saber might be used. Give me your
+address, in case I should find it necessary to send for you.”
+
+Now Maurice was a wary youth. Under ordinary circumstances he would have
+given a fictitious address to this strange sybil with the prophecy of
+war; for he had accosted her only in the spirit of fun. But here was the
+key which he had been seeking, the key to all that had brought him to
+Bleiberg. Intrigue, adventure, or whatever it was, and to whatever end,
+he plunged into it. He drew out a card case, selected a card on which he
+wrote “Room 12, Continental,” and passed it over the table. She read it,
+and slipped it into her purse.
+
+Maurice thought: “Who wouldn't join the army with such recruiting
+officers?”
+
+While the pantomime took place, a man pushed by Maurice's chair and
+crossed over to the table recently occupied by him. He sat down, lit
+a short pipe, rested his feet on the lowest rung of the ladder-like
+railing, and contemplated the western hills, which by now were enveloped
+in moon mists. Neither Maurice nor his mysterious vis-a-vis remarked
+him. Indeed, his broad back afforded but small attraction. And if he
+puffed his pipe fiercely, nobody cared, since the breeze carried the
+smoke waterward.
+
+After putting the card into her purse, Mademoiselle of the Veil's gaze
+once more wandered toward the entrance, and this time it grew fixed.
+Maurice naturally followed it, and he saw a tall soldier in fatigue
+dress elbowing his way through the crush. Many moved aside for him;
+those in uniform saluted.
+
+“Monsieur,” came from behind the veil, “you may go now. I dismiss you.
+If I have need of you I promise to send for you.”
+
+He stood up. “I thank you for the entertainment and the promise you
+extend. I shall be easily found,” committing himself to nothing. “I
+suppose you are a person of importance in affairs.”
+
+“It is not unlikely. I see that you love adventure for its own sake,
+for you have not asked me if it be the duchy or the kingdom. Adieu,
+Monsieur,” with a careless wave of the gray-gloved hand. “Adieu!”
+
+He took his dismissal heroically and shot a final glance at the
+approaching soldier. His brows came together.
+
+“Where,” he murmured, “have I seen that picturesque countenance before?
+Not in Europe; but where?” He caught the arm of a passing gendarme. “Who
+is that gentleman in fatigue uniform, coming this way?”
+
+“That, Monsieur,” answered the gendarme in tones not unmixed with awe,
+“is Colonel Beauvais of the royal cuirassiers.”
+
+“Thanks.... Beauvais; I do not remember the name. Truly I have had
+experiences to-day. And for what house is Mademoiselle of the Veil?
+Ravens? War? `Voici le sabre de mon pyre!'” and with a gay laugh he went
+his way.
+
+Meanwhile Colonel Beauvais arrived at the table, tipped his hat to the
+Veil, who rose and laid a hand on his arm. He guided her through the
+pressing crowds.
+
+“Ah, Madame,” he said, “you are very brave to choose such a rendezvous.”
+
+“Danger is a tonic to the ill-spirited,” was the reply.
+
+“If aught should happen to you--”
+
+“It was in accord with her wishes that I am here. She suffers from
+impatience; and I would risk much to satisfy her whims.”
+
+“So would I, Madame; even life.” There was a tremor of passion in his
+voice, but she appeared not to notice it. “Here is a nook out of the
+lights; we may talk here with safety.”
+
+“And what is the news?” she asked.
+
+“This: The man remains still in obscurity. But he shall be found.
+Listen,” and his voice fell into a whisper.
+
+“Austria?” Mademoiselle of the Veil pressed her hands together in
+excitement. “Is it true?”
+
+“Did I not promise you? It is so true that the end is in sight.
+Conspiracy is talked openly in the streets, in the cafes, everywhere.
+The Osians will be sand in the face of a tidal wave. A word from me,
+and Kronau follows it. It all would be so easy were it not for the
+archbishop.”
+
+“The archbishop?” contemptuously.
+
+“Ay, Madame; he is a man so deep, with a mind so abyssmal, that I would
+give ten years of my life for a flash of his thoughts. He has some
+project; apparently he gives his whole time to the king. He loves this
+weak man Leopold; he has sacrificed the red hat for him, for the
+hat would have taken him to Italy, as we who procured it intended it
+should.”
+
+“The archbishop? Trust me; one month from now he will be recalled. That
+is the news I have for you.”
+
+“You have taken a weight from my mind. What do you think in regard to
+the rumor of the prince and the peasant girl?”
+
+“It afforded me much amusement. You are a man of fine inventions.”
+
+“Gaze toward the upper end of the pavilion, the end which we have
+just left. Yes--there. I am having the owner of those broad shoulders
+watched. That gendarme leaning against the pillar follows him wherever
+he goes.”
+
+“Who is he?”
+
+“That I am trying to ascertain. This much--he is an Englishman.”
+
+Mademoiselle of the Veil laughed. “Pardon my irrelevancy, but the
+remembrance of a recent adventure of mine was too strong.”
+
+
+
+Maurice could not regain his interest in the scene. He strolled in and
+out of the moving groups, but no bright eyes or winning smiles allured
+him. Impelled by curiosity, he began to draw near the shadowed nook.
+Curiosity in a journalist is innate, and time nor change can efface
+it. Curiosity in those things which do not concern us is wrong. Ethics
+disavows the practice, though philosophy sustains it. Perhaps in this
+instance Maurice was philosophical, not ethical. Perhaps he wanted
+to hear the woman's voice again, which was excusable. Perhaps it was
+neither the one nor the other, but fate, which directed his footsteps.
+Certain it is that the subsequent adventures would never have happened
+had he gone about his business, as he should have done.
+
+“Who is this who stares at us?” asked Beauvais, with a piercing glance
+and a startled movement of his shoulders.
+
+“A disciple of Pallas and a pupil of Mars,” was the answer. “I have been
+recruiting, Colonel. There is sharpness sometimes in new blades. Do not
+draw him with your eyes.”
+
+The Colonel continued his scrutiny, however, and there was an ugly
+droop at the corners of his mouth, though it was partly hidden under his
+mustache.
+
+Maurice, aware that he was not wanted, passed along, having in mind to
+regain his former seat by the railing.
+
+“Colonel,” he mused, “your face grows more familiar every moment. It was
+not associated with agreeable things. But, what were they? Hang it! you
+shall have a place in my thoughts till I have successfully labeled you.
+Humph! Some one seems to have appropriated my seat.”
+
+He viewed with indecision the broad back of the interloper, who at that
+moment turned his head. At the sight of that bronzed profile Maurice
+gave an exclamation of surprise and delight. He stepped forward and
+dropped his hand on the stranger's shoulder.
+
+“John Fitzgerald, or henceforth garlic shall be my salad!” he cried in
+loud, exultant tones.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. SOME DIALOGUE, A SPRAINED ANKLE, AND SOME SOLDIERS
+
+The stranger returned Maurice's salute with open-mouthed dismay; the
+monocle fell from his eye, he grasped the table with one hand and
+pushed back the chair with the other, while Maurice heard the name of an
+exceedingly warm place.
+
+The gendarme, who was leaning against the pillar, straightened, opened
+his jaws, snapped them, and hurried off.
+
+“Maurice--Maurice Carewe?” said the bewildered Englishman.
+
+“No one else, though I must say you do not seem very glad to see me,”
+ Maurice answered, conscious that he was all things but welcome.
+
+“Hang you, I'm not!” incogitantly.
+
+“Go to the devil, then!” cried Maurice, hotly.
+
+“Gently,” said Fitzgerald, catching Maurice by the coat and pulling him
+down into a chair. “Confound you, could you not have made yourself known
+to me without yelling my name at the top of your voice?”
+
+“Are you ashamed of it?” asked Maurice, loosing his coat from
+Fitzgerald's grip.
+
+“I'm afraid of it,” the Englishman admitted, in a lowered voice. “And
+your manly, resonant tones have cast it abroad. I am here incognito.”
+
+“Who the deuce are you?”
+
+“I am Don Jahpet of Armenia; that is to say that I am a marked man. And
+now, as you would inelegantly express it, you have put a tag on me. When
+I left you in Vienna the other day I lied to you. I am sorry. I should
+have trusted you, only I did not wish you to risk your life. You would
+have insisted on coming along.”
+
+“Risked my life?” echoed Maurice. “How many times have I not risked
+it? By the way,” impressed by a sudden thought, “are you the Englishman
+every one seems to be expecting?”
+
+“Yes.” Fitzgerald knocked his pipe against the railing. “I am the man.
+Worse luck! Was any one near when you called me by name?”
+
+“Only one of those wooden gendarmes.”
+
+“Only one of those wooden gendarmes!” ironically. “Only one of those
+dogs who have been at my heels ever since I arrived. And he, having
+heard, has gone back to his master. Well, since you have started the
+ball rolling, it is no more than fair that you should see the game to
+its end.”
+
+“What's it all about?” asked Maurice, his astonishment growing and
+growing.
+
+“Where are your rooms?”
+
+“You have something important to tell me?”
+
+“Perhaps you may think so. At the Continental? Come along.”
+
+They passed out of the pavilion, along the path to the square, thence to
+the terrace of the Continental, which they mounted. Not a word was said,
+but Maurice was visibly excited, and by constant gnawing ruined his
+cigar. He conducted his friend to the room on the second floor, the
+window of which opened on a private balcony. Here he placed two chairs
+and a small table; and with a bottle of tokayer between them they seated
+themselves.
+
+“What's it all about?”
+
+“O, only a crown and a few millions in money.”
+
+“Only a crown and a few millions in money,” repeated Maurice very
+slowly, for his mind could scarcely accept Fitzgerald and these two
+greatest treasures on earth.
+
+A gendarme had leisurely followed them from the park. He took aside a
+porter and quietly plied him with questions. Evidently the answers were
+satisfactory, for he at once departed.
+
+Maurice stared at the Englishman.
+
+“Knocks you up a bit, eh?” said Fitzgerald. “Well, I am rather surprised
+myself; that is to say, I was.”
+
+“Fire away,” said Maurice.
+
+“To begin with, if I do not see the king to-morrow, it is not likely
+that I ever shall.”
+
+“The king?”
+
+“My business here is with his Majesty.”
+
+Maurice filled the glasses and pushed one across the table.
+
+“Here's!” said he, and gulped.
+
+Fitzgerald drank slowly, however, as if arranging in his mind the
+salient points in his forthcoming narrative.
+
+“I have never been an extraordinarily communicative man; what I shall
+tell you is known only to my former Colonel and myself. At Calcutta,
+where you and I first met, I was but a Lieutenant in her Majesty's.
+To-day I am burdened with riches such as I know not how to use, and
+possessor of a title which sounds strange in my ears.”
+
+The dim light from the gas-jet in the room flickered over his face, and
+Maurice saw that it was slightly contorted, as if by pain.
+
+“My father was Lord Fitzgerald.”
+
+“What!” cried Maurice, “the diplomat, the historian, the millionaire?”
+
+“The same. Thirteen years ago we parted--a misunderstanding. I never saw
+him again. Six months ago he died and left me a fortune, a title and a
+strange legacy; and it is this legacy which brings me to Bleiberg. Do
+you know the history of Leopold?”
+
+“I do. This throne belongs to the house of Auersperg, and the Osian
+usurps. The fact that the minister of the duchess has been discredited
+was what brought me here. Continue.”
+
+And Fitzgerald proceeded briefly to acquaint the other with the strange
+caprice of his father; how, when he left Bleiberg, he had been waylaid
+and the certificates demanded; how he had entrusted them to his valet,
+who had gone by another route; how the duke had sought him in Vienna and
+made offers, bribes and threats; how he had laughed at all, and sworn
+that Duke Josef should never be a king.
+
+“My father wished to save Leopold in spite of himself; and then, he had
+no love for Josef. At a dinner given at the legation, there was among
+others a toast to her Majesty. The duke laughed and tossed the wine
+to the floor. It lost him his crown, for my father never forgave
+the insult. When the duke died, his daughter took up the work with
+surprising vigor. It was all useless; father was a rock, and would
+listen neither to bribes nor threats. Now they are after me. They have
+hunted me in India, London, and Vienna. I am an obscure soldier, with
+all my titles and riches; they threaten me with death. But I am here,
+and my father's wishes shall be carried out. That is all. I am glad that
+we have come together; you have more invention than I have.”
+
+“But why did you come yourself? You could have sent an agent. That would
+have been simple.”
+
+“An agent might be bought. It was necessary for me to come. However,
+I might have waited till the twentieth. I should have come openly and
+informed the British minister of my mission. As to the pheasants, they
+could have waited. Perhaps my fears are without foundation, unless you
+have been the unconscious cause of my true name being known. Every one
+has heard the story. It is known as 'Fitzgerald's folly,' and has gone
+the rounds of the diplomatic circles for ten years. I shall ask for an
+audience to-morrow morning.”
+
+“And these certificates fall due the same day that the princess is to be
+married,” mused his auditor. “What a yarn for the papers!” his love of
+sensation being always close to the surface. “Your father, you say, took
+four million crowns; what became of the fifth?”
+
+“The duke was permitted to secure that.”
+
+“A kind of court plaster for his wounds, eh? Why don't you get that
+other million and run the kingdom yourself? It's a great opportunity.”
+ Maurice laughed.
+
+“Her Royal Highness must not be forgotten. My father thought much of
+her.”
+
+“But really I do not see why you are putting yourself to all this
+trouble. The king will pay off the indebtedness; the kingdom is said to
+be rich, or Austria wouldn't meddle with it.”
+
+“The king, on the twentieth of this month, will be some three millions
+short.”
+
+“And since he can not pay he is bankrupt. Ah, I see the plan. The duke
+knew that he wouldn't be able to pay.”
+
+“You have hit it squarely.”
+
+“But Austria, having placed Leopold here, is his sponsor.”
+
+“Austria has too many debts of her own; she will have to disavow her
+protege, which is a fact not unthought of by the house of Auersperg.
+By constant machination and intrigue the king's revenues have been so
+depleted that ordinary debts are troublesome. The archbishop, to stave
+off the probable end, brought about the alliance between the houses
+of Carnavia and Osia. My business here is to arrange for a ten years'
+renewal of the loan, and that is what the duchess wishes to prevent, mon
+ami. What's to become of the king and his daughter if aught in the way
+of mishap should befall me? I have not seen the king, but I have seen
+her Royal Highness.”
+
+“What is she like?” Maurice asked, innocently. He saw no reason why he
+should confide to the Englishman his own adventure.
+
+“I'm not much of a judge,” said Fitzgerald cautiously. “I have lived
+most of my life in cantonments where women were old and ran mostly to
+tongue. I should say that she is beautiful.” A short sigh followed this
+admission.
+
+“Ah!” said Maurice with a loud laugh to cover the sudden pang of
+jealousy which seized him; “in gratitude for saving her father's throne
+the daughter will fall in love with you. It is what the dramatist calls
+logical sequence.”
+
+“Why don't you write novels? Your imagination has no bounds.”
+
+“Writing novels is too much like work. But I'm serious. Your position in
+the world to-day is nearly equal to hers, and certainly more secure. Ah,
+yes; I must not forget that prince. He's a lucky dog--and so are you,
+for that matter. Millions and titles! And I have slapped you cavalierly
+on the back, smoked your cigars, drunk your whisky, and beaten you at
+poker!” comically.
+
+“Ah, Maurice, it is neither wealth nor titles; it is freedom. I am like
+a boy out of school for good and all. Women, the society of women, who
+are the salt of earth; that is what I want. I have knocked out thirteen
+years of my life in furnace holes, and have not met nor spoken to a
+dozen young women in all that time. How I envy you! You know every
+one; you have seen the world; you are at home in Paris, or London, or
+Vienna; you have enjoyed all I wish to enjoy.”
+
+“Why did you ever get into the army?”
+
+“You ought to know.”
+
+“But it was bread and butter to me.”
+
+“Well, I was young; I saw fame and glory. If the matter under hand is
+closed to-morrow, what do you say to the Carpathians and bears? I shall
+not remain here; some one will be looking for blood. What do you say?”
+
+“I don't know,” said Maurice, thoughtfully. He was thinking of
+Mademoiselle of the Veil and her prophecy of ravens. “I don't know that
+I shall be able. It is my opinion that your part in the affair is only
+a curtain-raiser to graver things. Every one of importance in town goes
+about with an air of expectancy. I never saw anything like it. It is the
+king, the archbishop and the chancellor against two hundred thousand.
+You're a soldier; can't you smell powder?”
+
+“Powder! You do not believe the duchess mad enough to wage war?”
+
+“Trust a woman to do what no one dreams she will.”
+
+“But Austria would be about her ears in a minute!”
+
+“Maybe. Have you seen this Colonel Beauvais of the royal cuirassiers,
+the actual head of the army here?”
+
+“A fine soldier,” said the Englishman, heartily. “Rides like a centaur
+and wields a saber as if it were a piece of straw.”
+
+“I can hold a pretty good blade myself; I've an idea that I can lick him
+at both games.”
+
+Fitzgerald laughed good-naturedly. “There is the one flaw in your
+make-up. I admit your horsemanship; but the saber! Believe me, it is
+only the constant practice and a wrist of iron which make the saber
+formidable. You are more familiar with the pen; I dare say you could
+best him at that.”
+
+“What makes you think I can not lick him?”
+
+“Since when have the saber and the civilian been on terms? And these
+continental sabers are matchless, the finest in the world. I trust you
+will steer clear of the Colonel; if you have any challenge in mind,
+spring it on me, and I'll let you down easy.” Then: “Why the devil do
+you want to lick him, anyway?”
+
+“I don't know,” said Maurice. “I had a close range to-night, and somehow
+the man went against the grain. Well, Jack, I'll stay with you in this
+affair, though, as the county judge at home would say, it's out of my
+circuit.”
+
+They shook hands across the table.
+
+“Come,” said Fitzgerald; “a toast, for I must be off.”
+
+“What do you say to her Royal Highness?”
+
+“Let us make it general: to all women!”
+
+They set down the glasses and shook hands again.
+
+“It seemed good to run across you in Vienna, Maurice. You were one of
+the bright spots in the old days.”
+
+“Do you want me to walk with you to the Grand? It's a fine night,” said
+Maurice, waving his hand toward the moon. “By George, what a beautiful
+place this end of Bleiberg is! I do not wonder that the duchess covets
+it.”
+
+“No, I'll go alone. All I have to do is to march straight up the
+Strasse.”
+
+“Well, good-night and good luck to you,” said Maurice, as he led the
+Englishman into the hallway. “Look me up when you have settled the
+business. I say, but it gets me; it's the strangest thing I ever heard.”
+ And he waited till the soldierly form disappeared below the landing.
+
+Then he went back to his chair on the balcony to think it over. At four
+o'clock that afternoon he had grumbled of dullness. He lit a pipe,
+and contemplated the soft and delicate blues of earth and heaven, the
+silvery flashes on the lake, and the slim violet threads of smoke
+which wavered about his head. It was late. Now and then the sound of a
+galloping horse was borne up by the breeze, and presently Maurice
+heard the midnight bell boom forth from the sleepy spires of the
+cathedral--where the princess was to be married.
+
+One by one the lamps of the park went out, but the moon shone on,
+lustrous and splendid. First he reviewed his odd adventure in the
+archbishop's gardens. He had spoken to princesses before, but they were
+women of the world, hothouse roses that bloom and wither in a short
+space. The atmosphere which surrounded this princess was idyllic,
+pastoral. She had seen nothing of the world, its sports and pastimes,
+and the art of playing at love was unknown to her. Again he could see
+her serious eyes, the delicate chin and mouth, the oval cheeks, and the
+dog that followed in her steps. Here was an indelible picture which time
+could never efface. Something stirred in his heart, and he sighed.
+
+And ah, the woman in the veil! Who could she be? The more he thought of
+her the more convinced he was that she stood high in the service of
+any one but Leopold of Osia. And Fitzgerald! That sober old soldier
+concerned with crowns and millions! It was incredible; it was almost
+laughable. They had met up-country in India, and had hunted, and Maurice
+had saved the Englishman's life. Occasionally they had corresponded.
+
+“Well, to bed,” said the young diplomat. “This has been a full day.”
+ And, like the true newspaper man he was, for all his diplomacy, he
+emptied the bottle and entered the room. He was about to disrobe, when
+some one rapped on the door. He opened it, and beheld a man in the
+livery of the Grand Hotel. He was breathing hard.
+
+“Herr Carewe?”
+
+“Yes. What's wanted?”
+
+“Herr Hamilton--”
+
+“Hamilton? O, yes. Go on.”
+
+“Herr Hamilton bade me to tell your Excellency that in returning to the
+hotel he sprained his ankle, and wishes to know if Herr would not be so
+kind as to spend the night with him.”
+
+“Certainly. Run down to the office, and I shall be with you shortly.”
+ Again alone, Maurice opened his trunk. He brought forth a pint flask
+of brandy, some old handkerchiefs to be used as bandages, and a box of
+salve he used for bruises when on hunting expeditions. In turning over
+his clothes his hand came into contact with his old army revolver. He
+scratched his head. “No, it's too much like a cannon, and there's no
+room for it in my pockets.” He pushed it aside, rose and slammed the lid
+of the trunk. “Sprained his ankle? He wasn't gone more than an hour. How
+the deuce is he to see the king to-morrow? Probably wishes to appoint me
+his agent. That's it. Very well.” He proceeded to the office, where he
+found the messenger waiting for him. “Come on, and put life into your
+steps.”
+
+Together they traversed the moonlit thoroughfare. Few persons were
+astir. Once the night patrol clattered by. They passed through the
+markets, and not far ahead they could see the university. It looked like
+a city prison.
+
+“This is the hotel, Herr,” said the messenger.
+
+They entered. Maurice approached the proprietor, who was pale and
+flurried; but as Maurice had never seen the natural repose of his
+countenance, he thought nothing of it.
+
+“My friend, Herr Hamilton, has met with an accident. Where is his room?”
+
+“Number nine; Johann will show you.” He acted as if he had something
+more to say, but a glance from the round-faced porter silenced him.
+Maurice lost much by not seeing this glance. He followed the messenger
+up the stairs.
+
+There were no transoms. The corridor was devoid of illumination. The
+porter struck a match and held it close to the panel of a door under
+which a thread of light streamed.
+
+“This is it, Herr,” he bawled, so loudly that Maurice started.
+
+“There was no need of waking the dead to tell me,” he growled.
+
+The door opened, and before Maurice could brace himself--for the
+interior of the room made all plain to him--he was violently pushed over
+the threshold on to his knees. He was up in an instant. The room was
+filled with soldiers, foot soldiers of the king, so it seemed.
+
+“What the devil is this?” he demanded, brushing his knees and cursing
+himself because he had not brought his Colt when fate had put it almost
+in his hand.
+
+“It is a banquet, young man. We were waiting for the guest of honor.”
+
+Maurice turned to the speaker, and saw a medium-sized man with gray
+hair and a frosty stubble of a mustache. He wore no insignia of office.
+Indeed, as Maurice gazed from one man to the next he saw that there
+were no officers; and it came to him that these were not soldiers of the
+king. He was in a trap. He thought quickly. Fitzgerald was in trouble,
+perhaps on his account. Where was he?
+
+“I do not see my friend who sprained his ankle,” he said coolly.
+
+This declaration was greeted with laughter.
+
+“Evidently I have entered the wrong room,” he continued imperturbably.
+He stepped toward the door, but a burly individual placed his back to
+it.
+
+“Am I a prisoner, or the victim of a practical joke?”
+
+“Either way,” said the man with the frosty mustache.
+
+“Why?”
+
+“You have recently formed a dangerous acquaintance, and we desire to aid
+you in breaking it.”
+
+“Are you aware, gentlemen--no, I don't mean gentlemen--that I am
+attached to the American legation in Vienna, and that my person is
+inviolable?”
+
+Everybody laughed again--everybody but Maurice.
+
+“Allow me to correct you,” put in the elderly man, who evidently was
+the leader in the affair. “You are not attached; you are detached.
+Gentlemen, permit me, M. Carewe, detache of the American legation in
+Vienna, who wishes he had stayed there.”
+
+Maurice saw a brace of revolvers on the mantel. The table stood between.
+
+“Well,” he said, banteringly, “bring on your banquet; the hour is late.”
+
+“That's the way; don't lose your temper, and no harm will come to you.”
+
+“What do you wish of me?”
+
+“Merely the pleasure of your company. Lieutenant, bring out the
+treasure.”
+
+One of the soldiers entered the next room and soon returned pushing
+Fitzgerald before him. The Englishman was bound and gagged.
+
+“How will you have the pheasant served?” asked the leader.
+
+“Like a gentleman!” cried Maurice, letting out a little of his anger.
+“Take out the gag; he will not cry.”
+
+The leader nodded, and Fitzgerald's mouth was relieved. He spat some
+blood on the carpet, then looked at his captors, the devil in his eyes.
+
+“Proceed to kill me and have done,” he said.
+
+“Kill you? No, no!”
+
+“I advise you to, for if you do not kill me, some day I shall be free
+again, and then God help some of you.”
+
+Maurice gazed at the candles on the table, and smiled.
+
+“I'm sorry they dragged you into it, Maurice,” said Fitzgerald.
+
+“I'm glad they did. What you want is company.” There was a glance, swift
+as light. It went to the mantel, then passed to the captive. “Well,”
+ said Maurice, “what is next on your damned program?”
+
+“The other side of the frontier.”
+
+“Maybe,” said Maurice.
+
+With an unexpected movement he sent the table over, the lights went
+out; and he had judged the distance so accurately that he felt his hands
+close over the revolvers.
+
+“The door! the door!” a voice bawled. “Knock down any one who attempts
+to pass.”
+
+This was precisely what Maurice desired. With the soldiers massed about
+the door, he would be free to liberate Fitzgerald; which he did. He
+had scarcely completed the task, when a flame spurted up. The leader
+fearlessly lit a candle and righted the table. He saw both his
+prisoners, one of them with extended arms, at the ends of which
+glistened revolver barrels.
+
+“The devil!” he said.
+
+“Maybe it is,” replied Maurice. “Now, my gay banqueteers, open the door;
+and the first man who makes a suspicious movement will find that I'm a
+tolerable shot.”
+
+“Seize him, your Excellency!” shouted one of the troopers. “Those are my
+revolvers he has, and they are not loaded.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. THE RED CHATEAU
+
+Two o'clock in the morning, on the king's highway, and a small body of
+horse making progress. The moon was beginning to roll away toward the
+west, but the world was still frost-white, and the broad road stretched
+out like a silver ribbon before the horsemen, until it was lost in the
+blue mist of the forests.
+
+The troop consisted of ten men, two of whom rode with their hands tied
+behind their backs and their feet fastened under the bellies of the
+horses. The troop was not conspicuous for this alone. Three others had
+their heads done up in handkerchiefs, and a fourth carried his arm in a
+sling.
+
+Five miles to the rear lay the sleeping city of Bleiberg, twenty miles
+beyond rose the formidable heights of the Thalians. At times the horses
+went forward at a gallop, but more often they walked; when they galloped
+the man with his arm in the sling complained. Whenever the horses
+dropped into a walk, the leader talked to one of the prisoners.
+
+“You fight like the very devil, my friend,” he said; “but we were
+too many by six. Mind, I think none the less of you for your attempt;
+freedom is always worth fighting for. As I said before, no harm is meant
+to you, physically; as to the moral side, that doesn't concern me. You
+have disabled four of my men, and have scarcely a dozen scratches to
+show for it. I wanted to take only four men with me; I was ordered to
+take eight. The hand of providence is in it.”
+
+“You wouldn't be so polite, Colonel,” spoke up the trooper whose arm was
+in the sling, “if you had got this crack.”
+
+“Baron, who told you to call me Colonel?” the leader demanded.
+
+“Why, we are out of the city; there's no harm now that I can see.”
+
+“Is it possible,” said Maurice ironically, “that I have had the honor of
+hitting a baron on the head and breaking his arm?”
+
+The baron muttered a curse and fell back.
+
+“And you,” went on Maurice, addressing the leader, “are a Colonel?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“For the duchess?”
+
+“For the duchess.”
+
+“A black business for you, Colonel; take my word for it.”
+
+“A black business it is; but orders are orders. Have you ever been a
+soldier?”
+
+“I have.”
+
+“Well, there's nothing more to be said.”
+
+“America--” Maurice began.
+
+“Is several thousand miles away.”
+
+“Not if you reckon from Vienna.”
+
+“I'd rather not reckon, if it's all the same to you. Your friend--I
+might say, your very valuable friend--takes the matter too much to
+heart.”
+
+“He's not a talkative man.”
+
+Fitzgerald looked straight ahead, stern and impassive.
+
+“But now that we are talking,” said Maurice, “I should like to know how
+the deuce you got hold of my name and dragged me into this affair?”
+
+“Simple enough. A card of yours was given to me; on it was your name and
+address. The rest was easy.”
+
+Maurice grew limp in the saddle.
+
+“By George! I had forgotten! The woman is at the bottom of it.”
+
+“Quite likely. I thought you'd come to that conclusion. Sometimes when
+we play with foxes they lead us into bear traps. Young man, witness
+these gray hairs; never speak to strange women, especially when they
+wear veils.”
+
+Fitzgerald was now attending the conversation.
+
+“And who is this woman?” asked Maurice.
+
+“Mademoiselle of the Veil, according to your picturesque imagination; to
+me she is the intimate friend and adviser of her Highness Stephonia.” He
+wheeled to the troopers with a laugh: “Hoch, you beggars, hoch!”
+
+Maurice indulged in some uncomplimentary remarks, among which was: “I'm
+an ass!”
+
+“Every man improves on making that discovery; the Darwinian theory is
+wrong.”
+
+After a pause Maurice said: “How did you get on the ground so quickly?”
+
+“We arrived yesterday afternoon as the escort of your charmer. A pretty
+woman finds it troublesome to travel alone in these parts. When you
+slapped your friend on the back and bawled out his name--a name known
+from one end of the kingdom to the other--the plan of action was
+immediately formed. You were necessary, for it was taken for granted
+that you knew too much. You had also promised your sword,” with a
+chuckle.
+
+“I made no promise,” said Maurice. “I only said that I should easily be
+found when wanted.”
+
+“Well, so you were; there's no gainsaying that.”
+
+Maurice said some more uncomplimentary things.
+
+“It was neatly done, you will admit. Life is a game of cards; he wins
+who plays first.”
+
+“Or he doesn't. Colonel, a game is won only when it is played'.”
+
+“That's true enough.”
+
+“Kings are a tolerable bother on earth,” Maurice declared, trying to
+ease his wrists by holding them higher against his back.
+
+“What do you know about them?”
+
+“When I was in the army I often fell in with three or four of a night.”
+
+“Eh?--kings?”
+
+“Yes; but usually I was up against aces or straight flushes.”
+
+“Cards! Well, well; when you get down to the truth of the matter, real
+kings differ but little from the kings in pasteboard; right side up, or
+wrong side up, they serve the purpose of those who play them. There's a
+poor, harmless devil back there,” with a nod toward Bleiberg. “He never
+injured a soul. Perhaps that's it; had he been cruel, avaricious, sly,
+all of them would be cringing at his feet. Devil take me--but I'm a
+soldier,” he broke off abruptly; “it's none of my business.”
+
+“Have you any titles?” Maurice asked presently.
+
+“Titles?” The Colonel jerked around on his horse. “Why?”
+
+“O,” said Maurice carelessly, “I thought it not unlikely that you might
+have a few lying around loose.”
+
+The Colonel roared. “You Americans beat the very devil with your
+questions. Well, I am politely known as Count Mollendorf, if that will
+gratify you.”
+
+“What! brother of Mollendorf of the king's police?”
+
+“God save the mark! No; I am an honest man--some of the time.”
+
+Maurice laughed; the old fellow was amusing, and besides, this
+conversation helped to pass away the time.
+
+“Wake up, Jack; here's entertainment,” he said.
+
+A scowl added itself to the stern expression on Fitzgerald's face.
+
+“I trust that none of your teeth are loose,” ventured the Colonel.
+
+“If they are, they'll be tight enough ere many days have passed,” was
+the threatening reply.
+
+“Beware the dog!” cried the Colonel, and he resumed his place at the
+head of the little troop.
+
+Maurice took this opportunity to bend toward Fitzgerald. “Have you
+anything of importance about you?” he whispered significantly.
+
+“Nothing. But God send that no chambermaid change the sheet in my bed at
+the hotel.”
+
+“Are they--”
+
+“Silence.” Fitzgerald saw the trooper next with his hand to his ear.
+
+After a time the Colonel sang out: “Fifteen miles more, with three on
+the other side, men; we must put more life into us. A trot for a few
+miles. The quicker the ride is done, baron, the quicker the surgeon will
+look to your arm.”
+
+And silence fell upon the troop. Occasionally a stray horse in the
+fields whinneyed, and was answered from the road; sometimes the howl of
+a dog broke the monotony. On and on they rode; hour and mile were left
+behind them. The moon fell lower and lower, and the mountains rose
+higher and higher, and the wind which had risen had a frosty sting to
+it. Maurice now began to show the true state of his temper by cursing
+his horse whenever it rubbed against one of its fellows. His back was
+lame, and there was a dull pain in one of his shoulders. When he had
+made the rush for the door, clubbing right and left with the empty
+revolvers, he had finally been thrown on an overturned chair.
+
+“Here, hang you!” he said to the trooper who held the bridle of his
+horse, “I'm cold; you might at least turn up my collar about my throat.”
+
+“You are welcome to my cloak,” said the trooper, disengaging that
+article from his shoulders.
+
+“Thank you,” said Maurice, somewhat abashed by the respectful tone.
+
+The trooper offered his blanket to Fitzgerald.
+
+“I wish no favors,” said the Englishman, thanklessly.
+
+The trooper shrugged, and caught up Maurice's bridle.
+
+At length the troop arrived at the frontier. There was no sign of life
+at the barrack. They passed unchallenged.
+
+“What!” exclaimed Maurice, “do they sleep here at night, then? A fine
+frontier barrack.” He had lived in hopes of more disturbance and a
+possible chance for liberty.
+
+“They will wake up to-day,” answered the Colonel; “that is, if the wine
+we gave them was not too strong. Poor devils; they must be good and cold
+by this time, since we have their clothes. What do you think of a king
+whose soldiers drink with any strangers who chance along?”
+
+Maurice became resigned. To him the present dynasty was as fragile as
+glass, and it needed but one strong blow to shatter it into atoms. And
+the one hope rode at his side, sullen and wrathful, but impotent; the
+one hope the king had to save his throne. He had come to Bleiberg in
+search of excitement, but this was altogether more than he had bargained
+for.
+
+The horses began to lift and were soon winding in and out of the narrow
+mountain pass. The chill of the overhanging snows fell upon them.
+
+“It wouldn't have hurt you to accept the blanket,” said Maurice to
+Fitzgerald.
+
+“Curse it! I want nothing but two minutes freedom. It would be warm
+enough then.”
+
+“No confidences, gentlemen,” warned the Colonel; “I understand English
+tolerably well.”
+
+“Go to the devil, then, if you do!” said Fitzgerald discourteously.
+
+“When the time comes,” tranquilly. “Of the two I like your friend
+the better. To be resigned to the inevitable is a sign of good mental
+balance.”
+
+“I am not used to words,” replied the Englishman.
+
+“You are used to orders. I am simply obeying mine. If I took you off
+your guard it was because I had to, and not because I liked that method
+best. Look alive, men; it's down hill from now on.”
+
+A quarter of an hour later the troop arrived at the duchy's frontier
+post. There was no sleep here. The Colonel flung himself from his horse
+and exercised his legs.
+
+“Sergeant,” he said, “how far behind the others?”
+
+“They passed two hours ago, Excellency. And all is well?” deferentially.
+
+“All is indeed well,” with a gesture toward the prisoners.
+
+“I've a flask of brandy in my hip pocket,” said Maurice. “Will you help
+me to a nip, Colonel?”
+
+“Pardon me, gentlemen; I had forgotten that your hands were still in
+cords. Corporal,” to a trooper, “relieve their hands.”
+
+The prisoners rubbed their wrists and hands, which were numb and cold.
+Maurice produced his flask.
+
+“I was bringing it along for your sprained ankle,” he said, as he
+extended the flask to Fitzgerald, who drank a third of it. “I'd offer
+you some, Colonel, only it would be like heaping coals of fire on your
+head; and, besides, I want it all myself.” He returned the emptied flask
+to his pocket, feeling a moderate warmth inside.
+
+“Drink away, my son,” said the Colonel, climbing into the saddle;
+“there'll be plenty for me for this night's work. Forward!”
+
+The troop took up the march again, through a splendid forest kept clear
+of dead wood by the peasants. It abounded with game. The shrill cry of
+the pheasants, the rustle of the partridges in the underbrush, the bark
+of the fox, all rose to the ears of the trespassers. The smell of warm
+earth permeated the air, and the sky was merging from silver into gold.
+
+When Napoleon humiliated Austria for the second time, one of his
+mushroom nobles, who placed too much faith in the man of destiny,
+selected this wooded paradise as a residence. He built him a fine castle
+of red brick, full of wide halls and drawing rooms and chambers of
+state, and filled it with fabulous paintings, Gobelin tapestries, and
+black walnut wainscot. He kept a small garrison of French soldiers
+by converting the huge stables partly into a barrack. One night the
+peasantry rose. There was a conflict, as the walls still show; and the
+prince by patent fled, no one knew where. After its baptism in blood
+it became known far and wide as the Red Chateau. Whenever children were
+unruly, they were made docile by threats of the dark dungeons of the Red
+Chateau, or the ghosts of the French and German peasants who died there.
+As it now stood, it was one of the summer residences of her Highness.
+
+It was here that the long night's journey came to an end.
+
+“Gentlemen,” said the Colonel, dismounting, “permit me, in the name of
+her Highness, to offer you the hospitality of Red Chateau. Consider;
+will you lighten my task by giving me your word of honor to make no
+attempt to escape? Escape is possible, but not probable. There are
+twenty fresh men and horses in the stables. Come, be reasonable. It will
+be pleasanter on both sides.”
+
+“So far as I'm concerned,” said Maurice, who needed liberty not half so
+much as sleep, “I pass my word.”
+
+“And you, sir?” to Fitzgerald.
+
+Fitzgerald gazed about him. “Very well,” he said, as he saw the futility
+of a struggle.
+
+“Your humble servant, Messieurs,” touching his cap. “Take the ropes off
+their ankles, men.”
+
+When Maurice was lifted from his horse and placed on the ground, his
+legs suddenly bent under him, and he went sprawling to the grass. A
+trooper sprang to his assistance.
+
+“My legs have gone to sleep!”
+
+The Englishman was affected likewise, and it was some moments before
+either could walk. They were conducted to a chamber high up in the left
+wing, which overlooked the forest and the mountains. It was a large airy
+room, but the windows were barred and there were double locks on the
+doors. The Colonel followed them into the room and pointed to the table.
+
+“Breakfast, Messieurs, and a good sleep for you till this noon. As for
+the rest, let that take care of itself.” And he left them.
+
+Maurice, after having tried all the bars and locks in answer to his
+conscience, gave his attention to the breakfast. On lifting the covers
+he found fish, eggs, toast and coffee.
+
+“Here's luck!” he cried. “We were expected.”
+
+“Curse it, Maurice!” Fitzgerald began pacing the room.
+
+“No, no,” said Maurice; “let us eat it; that's what it's here for,” and
+he fell to with that vigor known only to healthy blood.
+
+“But what's to be done?”
+
+“Follow Solomon's advice, and wait.”
+
+“You're taking it cursed cool.”
+
+“Force of habit,” breaking the toast. “What's the use of wasting powder?
+Because I have shown only the exterior, our friend the Colonel has
+already formed an opinion of me. I am brave if need be, but young and
+careless. In a day or so--for I suppose we are not to be liberated at
+once--he'll forget to use proper caution in respect to me. And then,
+'who can say?' as the Portuguese says when he hasn't anything else to
+say. They'll keep a strict watch over you, my friend, because you've
+played the lion too much. Just before I left the States, as you call
+them, a new slang phrase was going the rounds;--'it is better to play
+the fox some of the time than to roar all of the time.' Ergo, be foxy.
+Take it cool. So long as you haven't got that mint packed about your
+person, the game breaks even.”
+
+“But the king!”
+
+“Is as secure on his throne as he ever was. If you do not present those
+consols, either for renewal or collection, on the twentieth, he loses
+nothing. As you said, let us hope that the chambermaid is a shifty,
+careless lass, who will not touch your room till you return.” Maurice
+broke an egg and dropped a lump of sugar into his cup.
+
+“Is this the way you fight Indians?”
+
+“Indians? What the deuce has fighting Indians to do with this? As to
+Indians, shoot them in the back if you can. Here, everything depends not
+on fighting but the right use of words. A man may be a diplomat and
+not render his country any large benefit; still, it's a fine individual
+training. Thrones stand on precipices and are pushed back to safety by
+the trick of a few words. Have an egg; they're fresh.”
+
+Fitzgerald sat down and gulped his coffee. “They broke my monocle in the
+struggle.”
+
+Maurice choked in his cup.
+
+“I've worn it twelve years, too,” went on Fitzgerald.
+
+“Everything is for the best,” said Maurice. “You will be able to see out
+of both eyes.”
+
+“Confound you!” cried Fitzgerald, smiling in spite of himself; “nothing
+will disturb you.”
+
+“You mean, nothing shall. Now, there's the bed and there's the lounge.
+Since you are the principal, that is to say, the constituent part of
+this affair, and also the principal actor in this extravaganza, suppose
+you take the bed and leave me the lounge? And the deuce take the
+duchess, who is probably a woman with a high forehead and a pair of
+narrow eyes!” He threw down his napkin and made for the lounge, without
+giving any particular attention to the smile and frown which were
+struggling in the Englishman's eyes. In less than a minute Maurice was
+dozing.
+
+Fitzgerald thought that the best thing he could do was to follow the
+philosophical example of his friend. “These Americans,” he mused, as he
+arranged the pillow under his ear, “are `fifteen puzzles'; you can move
+them, or you can't.”
+
+As for Maurice, he was already dreaming; he was too tired to sleep.
+Presently he thought he was on a horse again, and was galloping,
+galloping. He was heading his old company to the very fringe of the
+alkali. The Apaches had robbed the pay train and killed six men, and
+the very deuce was to pay all around.... Again he was swimming, and a
+beautiful girl reached out a hand and saved him. Ah! how beautiful she
+was, how soft and rich the deep brown of her eyes!... The scene shifted.
+The president of the South American republic had accepted his sword
+(unbeknown to the United States authorities), and he was aiding to quell
+the insurrection. And just then some one whispered to him that gold
+would rise fifty points. And as he put out his hands to gather in the
+glittering coins which were raining down, the face of Colonel Beauvais
+loomed up, scowling and furious.... And yet again came the beautiful
+girl. He was holding her hand and the archbishop had his spread out in
+benediction over their heads.... A hand, which was not of dreamland,
+shook him by the arm. He opened his eyes. Fitzgerald was standing over
+him. The light of the sun spangled the walls opposite the windows. The
+clock marked the eleventh hour of day.
+
+“Hang you!” he said, with blinking eyes; “why didn't you let me be?
+I was just marrying the princess, and you've spoiled it all. I--” He
+jumped to his feet and rubbed his eyes, and, forgetful of all save his
+astonishment, pursed his lips into a low whistle.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. NOTHING MORE SERIOUS THAN A HOUSE PARTY
+
+Standing just within the door, smiling and rubbing the gray bristles
+on his lip, was the Colonel. In the center of the room stood a
+woman dressed in gray. Maurice recognized the dress; it belonged to
+Mademoiselle of the Veil, who was now sans veil, sans hat. A marvelous
+face was revealed to Maurice, a face of that peculiar beauty which poets
+and artists are often minded to deny, but for the love of which men die,
+become great or terrible, overturn empires and change the map of the
+world.
+
+Her luxuriant hair, which lay in careless masses about the shapely head
+and intelligent brow, was a mixture of red and brown and gold, a variety
+which never ceases to charm; skin the pallor of ancient marble, with
+the shadow of rose lying below the eyes, the large, gray chatoyant
+eyes, which answered every impulse of the brain which ruled them. The
+irregularity of her features was never noticeable after a glance into
+those eyes. At this moment both eyes and lips expressed a shade of
+amusement.
+
+Maurice, who was astonished never more than a minute at a time,
+immediately recovered. His toilet was somewhat disarranged, and the back
+of his head a crow's nest, but, nevertheless, he placed a hand over his
+heart and offered a low obeisance.
+
+“Good morning, gentlemen,” she said, in a voice which Maurice would
+have known anywhere. “I hope the journey has caused you no particular
+annoyance.”
+
+“The annoyance was not so particular, Madame,” said Fitzgerald stiffly,
+“as it was general.”
+
+“And four of my troopers will take oath to that!” interjected the
+Colonel.
+
+“Will Madame permit me to ask when will the opera begin?” asked Maurice.
+
+“I am glad,” said she, “that you have lost none of your freshness.”
+
+Maurice was struck for a moment, but soon saw that the remark was
+innocent of any inelegance of speech. Fitzgerald was gnawing his
+mustache and looking out of the corner of his eyes--into hers.
+
+“My task, I confess, is a most disagreeable one,” she resumed, lightly
+beating her gauntlets together; “but when one serves high personages one
+is supposed not to have any sentiments.” To Fitzgerald she said: “You
+are the son of the late Lord Fitzgerald.”
+
+“For your sake, I regret to say that I am.”
+
+“For my sake? Worry yourself none on that point. As the agent of her
+Highness I am inconsiderable.”
+
+“Madame,” said Maurice, “will you do us the honor to inform us to whom
+we are indebted for this partiality to our distinguished persons?”
+
+“I am Sylvia Amerbach,” quietly.
+
+“Amerbach?” said Maurice, who was familiar with the great names of the
+continent. “Pardon me, but that was once a famous name in Prussia.”
+
+“I am distantly related to that house of princes,” looking at her
+gauntlets.
+
+“Well, Madame, since your business doubtless concerns me, pray, begin;”
+ and Fitzgerald leaned against the mantelpiece and fumbled with the rim
+of his monocle.
+
+Maurice walked to one of the windows and perched himself on the broad
+sill. He began to whistle softly:
+
+Voici le sabre de mon pere! Tu vas le mettre a ton cote....
+
+Beyond the window, at the edge of the forest, he saw a sentinel pacing
+backward and forward. Indeed, no matter which way he looked, the
+autumnal scenery had this accessory. Again, he inspected the bars. These
+were comparatively new. It was about thirty feet to the court below. On
+the whole, the outlook was discouraging.
+
+“Count,” said the distant relative of the house of Amerbach, “how shall
+I begin?”
+
+“I am not a diplomat, Madame,” answered the Colonel. “If, however, you
+wish the advice of a soldier, I should begin by asking if my lord the
+Englishman has those consols about his person.”
+
+“Fie, count!” she cried, laughing; “one would say that was a prelude to
+robbery.”
+
+“So they would. As for myself, I prefer violence to words. If we take
+these pretty papers by violence, we shall still have left our friend
+the Englishman his self-respect. And as for words, while my acquaintance
+with our friend is slight, I should say that they would only be wasted
+here.”
+
+The whistle from the window still rose and fell.
+
+“Monsieur, I have it in my power to make you rich.”
+
+“I am rich,” replied Fitzgerald.
+
+“In honors?”
+
+“Madame, the title I have is already a burden to me.” Fitzgerald
+laughed, which announced that the cause of the duchess was not getting
+on very well. Once or twice he raised the tortoiseshell rim to his eye,
+but dropped it; force of habit was difficult to overcome.
+
+“Your father nourished a particular rancor against the late duke.”
+
+“And justly, you will admit.”
+
+“Her Highness has offered you five millions for slips of paper worth no
+more than the ink which decorates them.”
+
+“And I have refused. Why? Simply because the matter does not rest with
+me. You have proceeded with a high hand, Madame, or rather your duchess
+has. Nothing will come of it. Had there been any possibility of my
+considering your proposals, this kidnaping would have destroyed it.”
+
+She smiled. Maurice saw the smile and stopped whistling long enough to
+scratch his chin, which was somewhat in need of a razor. He had
+seen many women smile that way. He had learned to read it. It was an
+inarticulate “perhaps.”
+
+“The rightful successor to the throne--”
+
+“Is Madame the duchess,” Fitzgerald completed. “I haven't the slightest
+doubt of that. One way or the other, it does not concern me. I came here
+simply to fulfill the wishes of my father; and my word, Madame, fulfill
+them I shall. You are holding me a prisoner, but uselessly. On the
+twentieth the certificates fall due against the government. If they are
+not presented either for renewal or collection, the bankruptcy scheme of
+your duchess will fall through just the same. I will tell you the
+truth, Madame. My father never expected to collect the moneys so long as
+Leopold sat on the throne.”
+
+The whistle grew shrill.
+
+“This officer here,” continued Fitzgerald, while the Colonel made a
+comical grimace, “suggests violence. I shall save him the trouble. I
+have seen much of the world, Madame--the hard side of it--and, knowing
+it as I do, it is scarcely probable that I should carry about my person
+the equivalent of four millions of crowns.”
+
+“Well, Madame,” said the Colonel, pushing his belt closer about his
+hips, as a soldier always does when he is on the point of departure,
+“what he says is true, every word of it. I see nothing more to do at
+present.”
+
+Mademoiselle of the Veil was paying not so much attention to the
+Colonel's words as she was to Maurice's whistle.
+
+“Monsieur,” she said, coldly, “have you no other tune in your
+repertory?”
+
+“Pardon me!” exclaimed Maurice. “I did not intend to annoy you.” He
+stepped down out of the window.
+
+“You do not annoy me; only the tune grows rather monotonous.”
+
+“I will whistle anything you may suggest,” he volunteered.
+
+She did not respond to this flippancy, though the pupils of her gray
+eyes grew large with anger. She walked the length of the room and back.
+
+“Count, what do you think would be most satisfactory to her Highness,
+under the circumstances?”
+
+“I have yet to hear of her Highness' disapproval of anything you
+undertake.”
+
+“Messieurs, your parole d'honneur, and the freedom of the chateau is
+yours--within the sentry lines. I wish to make your recollections of the
+Red Chateau rather pleasant than otherwise. I shall be most happy if you
+will honor my table with your presence.”
+
+The Colonel coughed, Maurice smoothed the back of his head, and
+Fitzgerald caught up his monocle.
+
+“My word, Madame,” said Maurice, “is not worth much, being that of
+a diplomat, but such as it is it is yours. However, my clothes are
+scarcely presentable,” which was true enough. Several buttons were
+missing, and the collar hung by a thread.
+
+“That can be easily remedied,” said she. “There are several new hussar
+uniforms in the armory.”
+
+“O, Madame, and you will permit me to wear one of those gay uniforms of
+light blue and silver lace?”
+
+The Colonel looked thoughtfully at Maurice. He was too much a banterer
+himself to miss the undercurrent of raillery. He eyed Madame discreetly;
+he saw that she had accepted merely the surface tones.
+
+“And you will wear one, too, Jack?” said Maurice.
+
+“No, thank you. I pass my word, Madame; I do not like confinement.”
+
+“Well, then, the count will shortly return and establish you in better
+quarters. Let us suppose you are my guests for a--a fortnight. Since
+both of us are right, since neither your cause nor mine is wrong,
+an armistice! Ah! I forgot. The east corridor on the third floor is
+forbidden you. Should you mistake and go that way, a guard will direct
+you properly. Messieurs, till dinner!” and with a smile which illumined
+her face as a sudden burst of sunshine flashes across a hillside, she
+passed out of the room, followed by her henchman, who had not yet put
+aside the thoughtful repose of his countenance.
+
+“A house party,” said Maurice, when he could no longer hear their
+footsteps. “And what the deuce have they got so valuable in the east
+corridor on the third floor?”
+
+“It's small matter to me,” said Fitzgerald tranquilly. “The main fact is
+that she has given up her game.”
+
+Said Maurice, his face expressing both pity and astonishment: “My dear,
+dear John! Didn't you see that woman's eyes, her hair, her chin, her
+nose?”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“True; you haven't had any experience with petticoats. This woman will
+rend heaven and earth rather than relinquish her projects, or rather
+those of her mistress. I should like to see this duchess, who shows a
+fine discernment in the selection of her assistants. Beware of the
+woman who is frankly your enemy. If she is frank, it is because she is
+confident of the end; if not, she is frank in order to disarm us of the
+suspicion of cunning. I would give much to know the true meaning of this
+house party.”
+
+“Hang me if I can see what difference it makes. She can not do anything
+either by frankness or by cunning.”
+
+“She gathered us in neatly, this red-haired Amazon.”
+
+“Red-haired!” in a kind of protest.
+
+“Why, yes; that's the color, isn't it?” innocently.
+
+“I thought it a red-brown. It's too bad that such a woman should be
+mixed up in an affair like this.”
+
+“Woman will sacrifice to ambition what she never will sacrifice to love.
+Hush; I hear the Colonel returning.”
+
+They were conducted to the opposite wing of the chateau, to a room on
+the second floor. Its windows afforded an excellent view of the land
+which lay south. Hills rolled away like waves of gold, dotted here and
+there with vineyards. Through the avenue of trees they could see the
+highway, and beyond, the river, which had its source in the mountains
+ten miles eastward.
+
+The room itself was in red, evidently a state chamber, for it contained
+two canopied beds. Several fine paintings hung from the walls, and
+between the two windows rose one of those pier glasses which owe their
+existence to the first empire of France. On one of the beds Maurice saw
+the hussar uniform. On the dresser were razors and mugs and a pitcher of
+hot water.
+
+“Ah,” he said, with satisfaction.
+
+“The boots may not fit you,” said the Colonel, “but if they do not we
+will manage some way.”
+
+“I shall not mind the fortnight,” said Maurice. “By the way, Colonel, I
+notice that French seems to prevail instead of German. Why is that?”
+
+“It is the common language of politeness, and servants do not understand
+it. As for myself, I naturally prefer the German tongue; it is blunt
+and honest and lacks the finesse of the French, which is full of evasive
+words and meanings. However, French predominates at court. Besides,
+heaven help the foreigner who tries to learn all the German tongues to
+be found in the empires of the Hohenzollern and Hapsburg. Luncheon will
+be served to you in the dining hall; the first door to the right at
+the foot of the grand staircase. I shall send you a trooper to act as
+valet.”
+
+“Spare me, Colonel,” said Maurice, who did not want any one between him
+and the Englishman when they were alone.
+
+“I have never had a valet,” said Fitzgerald; “he would embarrass me.”
+
+“As you please,” said the Colonel, a shade of disappointment in his
+tones. “After all, you are soldiers, where every man is for himself.
+Make yourselves at home;” and he withdrew.
+
+Maurice at once applied lather and razor, and put on the handsome
+uniform, which fitted him snugly. The coat was tailless, with rows of
+silver buttons running from collar to waist. The breast and shoulders
+and sleeves were covered with silver lace, and Maurice concluded that it
+must be nothing less than a captain's uniform. The trousers were tight
+fitting, with broad stripes of silver; and the half boots were of patent
+leather. He walked backward and forward before the pier-glass.
+
+“I say, Fitz, what do you think of it?”
+
+“You're a handsome rascal, Maurice,” answered the Englishman, who had
+watched his young friend, amusement in his sober eyes. “Happily, there
+are no young women present.”
+
+“Go to! I'll lay odds that our hostess is under twenty-five.”
+
+“I meant young women of sixteen or seventeen. Women such as Madame have
+long since passed the uniform fever.”
+
+“Not when it has lace, my friend, court lace. Well, forward to the
+dining hall.”
+
+Both were rather disappointed to find that Madame would be absent until
+dinner. Fitzgerald could not tell exactly why he was disappointed, and
+he was angry with himself for the vague regret. Maurice, however, found
+consolation in the demure French maid who served them. Every time he
+smiled she made a courtesy, and every time she left the room Maurice
+nudged Fitzgerald.
+
+“Smile, confound you, smile!” he whispered. “There's never a maid but
+has her store of gossip, and gossip is information.”
+
+“Pshaw!” said Fitzgerald, helping himself to cold ham and chicken.
+
+“Wine, Messieurs?” asked the maid.
+
+“Ah, then Madame offers the cellars?” said Maurice.
+
+“Yes, Messieurs. There is chambertin, champagne, chablis, tokayer and
+sherry.”
+
+“Bring us some chambertin, then.”
+
+“Oui, Messieurs.”
+
+“Hurry along, my Hebe,” said Maurice.
+
+The maid was not on familiar terms with the classics, but she told the
+butler in the pantry that the smooth-faced one made a charming Captain.
+
+“Keep your eyes open,” grumbled the butler; “he'll be kissing you next.”
+
+“He might do worse,” was the retort. Even maids have their mirrors, and
+hers told a pretty story. When she returned with the wine she asked:
+“And shall I pour it, Messieurs?”
+
+“No one else shall,” declared Maurice. “When is the duchess to arrive?”
+
+“I do not know, Monsieur,” stepping in between the chairs and filling
+the glasses with the ruby liquid.
+
+“Who is Madame Sylvia Amerbach?”
+
+“Madame Sylvia Amerbach,” placing the bottle on the table and going to
+the sideboard. She returned with a box of “Khedives.”
+
+Fitzgerald laughed at Maurice's disconcertion.
+
+“Where has Madame gone?”
+
+“To the summer home of Countess Herzberg, who is to return with Madame.”
+
+“Oho!” cried Maurice, in English. “A countess! What do you say to that,
+my Englishman?”
+
+“She is probably old and plain. Madame desires a chaperon.”
+
+“You forget that Madame desires nothing but those certificates. And the
+chaperon does not live who could keep an eye on Madame Sylvia Amerbach.”
+
+The mention of the certificates brought back all the Englishman's
+discomfort, and he emptied his glass of wine not as a lover of good wine
+should. Soon they rose from the table. The maid ran to the door and held
+it open. Fitzgerald hurried through, but Maurice lingered a moment. He
+put his hand under the porcelain chin and looked into the china-blue
+eyes. Fitzgerald turned.
+
+“What was that noise?” he asked, as Maurice shouldered him along the
+hall.
+
+“What noise?”
+
+Madame came back to the chateau at five, and dinner was announced at
+eight. The Countess Herzberg was young and pretty, the possessor of a
+beautiful mouth and a charming smile. The Colonel did the honors at
+the table. Maurice almost fancied himself in Vienna, the setting of the
+dining room was so perfect. The entire room was paneled in walnut. On
+the mantel over the great fireplace stood silver candlesticks with
+wax tapers. The candlestick in the center of the table was composed of
+twelve branches. The cuisine was delectable, the wines delicious. Madame
+and the countess were in evening dress. The Colonel was brimming with
+anecdote, the countess was witty, Madame was a sister to Aspasia.
+
+Maurice, while he enjoyed this strange feast, was puzzled. It was very
+irregular, and the Colonel's gray hairs did not serve to alter this
+fact. What was the meaning of it? What lay underneath?
+
+Sometimes he caught Fitzgerald in the act of staring at Madame when her
+attention was otherwise engaged; at other times he saw that Madame was
+returning this cursory investigation. There was, however, altogether a
+different meaning in these surreptitious glances. In the one there were
+interest, doubt, admiration; in the other, cold calculation. At no time
+did the conversation touch politics, and the crown was a thousand miles
+away--if surface indications went for aught.
+
+Finally the Colonel rose. “A toast--to Madame the duchess, since this is
+her very best wine!”
+
+Maurice emptied his glass fast enough; but Fitzgerald lowered his eyes
+and made no movement to raise his glass. The pupils in Madame's eyes
+grew small.
+
+“That is scarcely polite, Monsieur,” she said.
+
+“Madame,” he replied gently, “my parole did not include toasts to her
+Highness. My friend loves wine for its own sake, and seldom bothers his
+head about the toast as long as the wine is good. Permit me to withdraw
+the duchess and substitute yourself.”
+
+“Do so, if it will please you. In truth, it was bad taste in you, count,
+to suggest it.”
+
+“It's all the same to me;” and the Colonel refilled his glass and
+nodded.
+
+The countess smiled behind her fan, while Maurice felt the edge of the
+mild reproach which had been administered to him.
+
+“I plead guilty to the impeachment. It was very wrong. Far from it that
+I should drink to the health of the Philistines. Madame the countess was
+beating me down with her eyes, and I did not think.”
+
+“I was not even looking at you!” declared the countess, blushing.
+
+The incident was soon forgotten; and at length Madame and the countess
+rose.
+
+Said the first: “We will leave you gentlemen to your cigars; and when
+they have ceased to interest you, you will find us in the music room.”
+
+“And you will sing?” said Maurice to the countess.
+
+“If you wish.” She was almost beautiful when she smiled, and she smiled
+on Maurice.
+
+“I confess,” said he, “that being a prisoner, under certain
+circumstances, is a fine life.”
+
+“What wicked eyes he has,” said the countess, as she and Madame entered
+the music room.
+
+“Do not look into them too often, my dear,” was the rejoinder. “I have
+asked not other sacrifice than that you should occupy his attention and
+make him fall in love with you.”
+
+“Ah, Madame, that will be easy enough. But what is to prevent me from
+falling in love with him? He is very handsome.”
+
+“You are laughing!”
+
+“Yes, I am laughing. It will be such an amusing adventure, a souvenir
+for my old age--and may my old age forget me.”
+
+The men lit their cigars and smoked in silence.
+
+“Colonel,” said Maurice at last, “will you kindly tell me what all this
+means?”
+
+“Never ask your host how old his wine is. If he is proud of it, he will
+tell you.” He blew the smoke under the candle shades and watched it as
+it darted upward. “Don't you find it comfortable? I should.”
+
+“Conscience will not lie down at one's bidding.”
+
+“I understood that you were a diplomat?” The Colonel turned to
+Fitzgerald. “I hope that, when you are liberated, you will forget the
+manner in which you were brought here.”
+
+“I shall forget nothing,” curtly.
+
+“The devil! I can not fight you; I am too old.”
+
+Fitzgerald said nothing, and continued to play with his emptied
+wine-glass.
+
+“The Princess Alexia,” went on the Colonel, “has a bulldog. I have
+always wondered till now what the nationality of the dog was. The
+bulldog neither forsakes nor forgives; he is an Englishman.”
+
+This declaration was succeeded by another interval of silence. The
+Englishman was thinking of his father; the thoughts of Maurice were
+anywhere but at the chateau; the Colonel was contemplating them both,
+shrewdly.
+
+“Well, to the ladies, gentlemen; it is half after nine.”
+
+The countess was seated at the piano, improvising. Madame stood before
+the fireplace, arranging the pieces on a chess board. In the center
+of the room was a table littered with books, magazines and illustrated
+weeklies.
+
+“Do you play chess, Monsieur?” said Madame to Fitzgerald.
+
+“I do not.”
+
+“Well, Colonel, we will play a game and show him how it is done.”
+
+Fitzgerald drew up a chair and sat down at Madame's elbow. He followed
+every move she made because he had never seen till now so round and
+shapely an arm, hands so small and white, tipped with pink filbert
+nails. He did not learn the game so quickly as might be. He, like
+Maurice, was pondering over the unusual position in which he found
+himself; but analysis of any sort was not his forte; so he soon forgot
+all save the delicate curve of Madame's chin and throat, the soft ripple
+of her laughter, the abysmal gray of her eyes.
+
+“Monsieur le Capitaine,” said the countess, “what shall I sing to you?”
+
+“To me?” said Maurice. “Something from Abt.”
+
+Her fingers ran lightly over the keys, and presently her voice rose in
+song, a song low, sweet, and sad. Maurice peered out of the window
+into the shades of night. Visions passed and repassed the curtain of
+darkness. Once or twice the countess turned her head and looked at him.
+It was not only a handsome face she saw, but one that carried the mark
+of refinement.... Maurice was thinking of the lonely princess and her
+grave dark eyes. He possessed none of that power from which princes
+derive benefits; what could he do? And why should he interest himself in
+a woman who, in any event, could never be anything to him, scarcely even
+a friend? He smiled.
+
+If Fitzgerald was not adept at analysis, he was. Nothing ever entered
+his mind or heart that he could not separate and define. It was strange;
+it was almost laughable; to have fenced as long and adroitly as he had
+fenced, and then to be disarmed by one who did not even understand the
+foils! Surrender? Why not?... By and by his gaze traveled to the chess
+players. There was another game than chess being played there, though
+kings and queens and knights and bishops were still the sum of it.
+
+“Are you so very far away, then?” The song had ceased; the countess was
+looking at him curiously.
+
+“Thank you,” he said; “indeed, you had taken me out of myself.”
+
+“Do you like chestnuts?” she asked suddenly.
+
+“I am very fond of them.”
+
+“Then I shall fetch some.” It occurred to her that the room was very
+warm; she wanted a breath of air--alone.
+
+“Checkmate!” cried the Colonel, joyfully.
+
+“Do you begin to understand?” asked Madame.
+
+“A little,” admitted Fitzgerald, who did not wish to learn too quickly.
+“I like to watch the game.”
+
+“So do I,” said Maurice, who had approached the table. “I should like to
+know what the game is, too.”
+
+Both Madame and the Colonel appeared to accept the statement and not the
+innuendo. Madame placed the figures on the board.
+
+Maurice strolled over to the table and aimlessly glanced through the
+Vienna illustrated weeklies. He saw Franz Josef in characteristic poses,
+full-page engravings of the military maneuvers and reproductions of the
+notable paintings. He picked up an issue dated June. A portrait of the
+new Austrian ambassador to France attracted his attention. He turned the
+leaf. What he saw on the following page caused him to widen his eyes and
+let slip an ejaculation loud enough to be heard by the chess players.
+Madame seemed on the point of rising. Maurice did not lower his eyes nor
+Madame hers.
+
+“Checkmate in three moves, Madame!” exclaimed the Colonel; “it is
+wonderful.”
+
+“What's the matter, Maurice?” asked Fitzgerald.
+
+“Jack, I am a ruined man.”
+
+“How? What?” nearly upsetting the board.
+
+“I just this moment remember that I left my gas burning at the hotel,
+and it is extra.”
+
+The Colonel and Fitzgerald lay back in their chairs and roared with
+laughter.
+
+But Madame did not even smile.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. BEING OF LONG RIDES, MAIDS, KISSES AND MESSAGES
+
+Fitzgerald was first into bed that night.
+
+“I want to finish this cigar, Jack,” said Maurice, who wished to be
+alone with his thoughts. He sat in the chair by the window and lifted
+his feet to the sill. The night wind was warm and odorous. He had
+found a clue, but through what labyrinth would it lead him? A strange
+adventure, indeed; so strange that he was of half a mind that he
+dreamed. Prisoners.... Why? And these two women alone in this old
+chateau, a house party. There lay below all this some deep design.
+
+Should he warn his friend? Indeed, as yet, of what had he to warn him?
+To discover Madame to Fitzgerald would be to close the entrance to this
+labyrinth which he desired to explore. How would Madame act, now that
+she knew he possessed her secret? Into many channels he passed, but
+all these were blind, and led him to no end. Madame had a purpose; to
+discover what this purpose was Fitzgerald must remain in ignorance. What
+a woman! She resembled one of those fabulous creatures of medieval days.
+And why was the countess on the scene, and what was her part in this
+invisible game?
+
+He finished his cigar and lit another; but the second cigar solved no
+more than the first. Mademoiselle of the Veil! He knew now what she
+meant; having asked her to lift her veil, she had said, “Something
+terrible would happen.” At last he, too, sought bed, but he did not
+sleep so soundly as did Fitzgerald.
+
+Ten days of this charming captivity passed; there was a thicker carpet
+of leaves on the ground, and new distances began to show mistily through
+the dismantling forest. But there were no changes at the Red Chateau--no
+outward changes. It might, in truth, have been a house party but for
+the prowling troopers and the continual grumbling of the Englishman when
+alone with Maurice.
+
+During the day they hunted or took long rides into the interior of the
+duchy. Both women possessed a fine skill in the saddle. In the evenings
+there were tourneys at chess, games and music.
+
+Each night Fitzgerald learned a little more about chess and a little
+less about woman. The countess, airy and delicate as a verse of
+Voiture's, bent all her powers (and these were not inconsiderable)
+toward the subjugation of Maurice. She laughed, she sang, she
+fascinated. She had the ability to amuse hour after hour. She offered
+vague promises with her eyes, and refused them with her lips. Maurice,
+who was never impregnable under the fire of feminine artillery, was
+at times half in love with her; but his suspicions, always near the
+surface, saved him.
+
+Sometimes he caught her hand and retained it over long; and once, when
+he kissed it, there was no rebuke. Again, when she sang, he would lean
+so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek, and her fingers
+would stumble into discords. Often she would suddenly rise from the
+piano and walk swiftly from the room, through the halls, into the park,
+where, though he followed, he never could find her. One day she and
+Madame returned from a walk in the forest, the one with high color and
+brilliant eyes, the other impassive as ice. Now, all these things
+did not escape Maurice, but he could not piece them together with any
+result.
+
+On the morning of the tenth day the two prisoners came down to
+breakfast, wondering how much longer this house party was going to last.
+
+“George! I wish I had a pipe,” said Maurice.
+
+“So do I,” Fitzgerald echoed glumly. “I am tired of cigars and weary
+of those eternal cigarettes. How the deuce are we going to get out of
+this?”
+
+“What's your hurry? We're having a good time.”
+
+“That's the trouble. Hang the duchess!”
+
+“Hang her and welcome. But why do you complain to me and not to Madame?
+Are you afraid of her? Does she possess, then, what is called tamer's
+magnetism? O, my lion, if only you would roar a bit more at her and less
+at me!”
+
+“I don't know what she possesses; but I do know that I'd give a deal to
+be out of this.”
+
+“Is the chambermaid idea bothering you?”
+
+“No, Maurice, it is not the chambermaid. I feel oppressed by something
+which I can not define.”
+
+“Maybe you are not used to tokay forty years old?”
+
+“Wine has nothing to do with it.”
+
+He was so serious that Maurice dropped his jesting tone. “By the way,”
+ he said, “do you sleep soundly?”
+
+“No. Every night I am awakened by the noise of a horse entering the
+court-yard.”
+
+“So am I. Moreover, Madame seems to be troubled with the same
+sleeplessness.
+
+“Madame?”
+
+“Yes. She is so troubled with sleeplessness that nothing will quiet her
+but the sight of the man who rides the horse: all of which is to say
+that a courier arrives each night with dispatches from Bleiberg. Now, to
+tell the truth, the courier does not keep me awake half so much as
+the thought of who is eating three meals a day at the end of the east
+corridor on the third floor. But there are Madame and the countess; we
+have kept them waiting.”
+
+“Good morning,” said Madame, smiling as they came up. “And how have you
+slept?”
+
+“Nothing wakes me but the roll of the drum or thunder,” answered
+Fitzgerald diffidently.
+
+“I dream of horses,” said Maurice carelessly.
+
+“Bon jour, M. le Capitaine!” cried the countess. Then she added with
+a light laugh: “Come, let me try you. Portons armes! Presentons
+armes!--How beautifully you do it!--Par le flanc gauche! En
+avant--marche!”
+
+Maurice swung, clicked his heels and, with a covert glance at Madame,
+led the way into the dining hall, whistling, “Behold the saber of my
+father!”
+
+“Ah, I do not see the Colonel,” said Maurice; for night and day the old
+soldier had been with them.
+
+“He has gone to Brunnstadt,” said Madame, “but will return this
+evening.”
+
+The breakfast was short and merry. Words passed across the table that
+were as crisp as the toast. Maurice remarked the advent of two liveried
+servants, stolid Germans by the way, who, as he afterward found, did not
+understand French.
+
+“So the Colonel has gone to Brunnstadt?” said Maurice; which was a long
+way of asking why the Colonel had gone to Brunnstadt.
+
+“Yes,” said Madame; “he has gone to consult Madame the duchess to see
+what shall be done to you, Monsieur.”
+
+“To be done to me?” ignoring the challenge in her eyes.
+
+“Yes. You must not forget that you promised me your sword, and I have
+taken the liberty of presenting it to her Highness.”
+
+“I remember nothing about promising my sword,” said Maurice, gazing
+ceiling-ward.
+
+“What! There was a mental reservation?”
+
+“No, Madame. I remember my words only too well. I said that I loved
+adventure, thoughtless youth that I was, and that I was easy to be
+found. Which is all true, and part proved, since I am here.”
+
+“Still, the uniform fits you exceedingly well. The hussars hold a high
+place at court.”
+
+“Madame,” replied he pleasantly, “I appreciate the honor, but at present
+my sword and fealty are sworn to my own country. And besides, I have no
+desire to take part in the petty squabble between this country and the
+kingdom.”
+
+The forecast of a storm lay in Madame's gray eyes.
+
+“Eh? You wish to placate me, Madame?” thought Maurice.
+
+“He is right, Madame,” interposed the countess. “But away with politics!
+It spoils all it touches.”
+
+“And away with the duchess, too,” put in Fitzgerald, reaching for a
+bunch of yellow grapes. “With all due respect to your cause and beliefs,
+Madame the duchess, your mistress, is a bugbear to me. The very sound of
+the title arouses in my heart all that is antagonistic.”
+
+“You have not seen her Highness, Monsieur,” said Madame, quietly.
+“Perhaps she is all that is desirable. She is known to be rich, her
+will is paramount to all others. When she sets her heart on a thing she
+leaves no stone unturned until she procures it. And, countess, do
+they not say of her that she possesses something--an attribute--more
+dangerous than beauty--fascination?”
+
+“Yes, Madame.”
+
+“Madame the duchess,” said Maurice dryly, “has a stanch advocate in you,
+Madame.”
+
+“It is not unnatural.”
+
+“Be that as it may,” said Fitzgerald, “she is mine enemy.”
+
+“Love your enemies, says the Book,” was the interposition of the
+countess, who stole a sly glance at Maurice which he did not see.
+
+“That would not be difficult--in some cases,” replied the Englishman.
+
+“Ah, come,” thought Maurice, “my friend is beginning to pick up his
+lines.” Aloud he said: “Madame, will you confer a favor on me by
+permitting me to inform my superior in Vienna of my whereabouts?”
+
+“No, Monsieur; prisoners are not allowed to communicate with the outside
+world. Are you not enjoying yourself? Is not everything being done for
+your material comfort? What complaint have you to offer?”
+
+“A gilded cage is no less a cage.”
+
+“It is but temporary. The duchess has commanded that you be held until
+it is her pleasure to come to the chateau. O, Monsieur, where is your
+gallantry? Here the countess and I have done so much to amuse you, and
+you speak of a gilded cage!”
+
+“Pretty bird! pretty bird!” said Maurice, in a piping voice, “will it
+have some caraway?”
+
+Madame laughed. “Well, I hear the grooms leading the horses under the
+porte cochere. Go, then, for the morning ride. I am sorry that I can not
+accompany you. I have some letters to write.”
+
+Fitzgerald curled his mustache. “I'll forswear the ride myself. I
+was reading a good book last night; I'll finish it, and keep Madame
+company.”
+
+Madame trifled with the toast crumbs. Fitzgerald's profound
+dissimulation caused a smile to cross Maurice's lips.
+
+“Come, countess,” said Maurice, gaily; “we'll take the ride together,
+since Madame has to write and my lord to read.”
+
+“Five minutes until I dress,” replied the countess, and she sped away.
+
+“What a beautiful girl!” said Madame, fondly. “Poor dear! Her life has
+not been a bed of roses.”
+
+“No?” said Maurice, while Fitzgerald raised his eyebrows inquiringly.
+
+“No. She was formerly a maid of honor to her Highness. She made an
+unhappy marriage.”
+
+“And where is the count?” asked Fitzgerald in surprise. He shot a glance
+of dismay at Maurice, who, translating it, smiled.
+
+“He is dead.”
+
+Fitzgerald looked relieved.
+
+“What a fine thing it is,” said Maurice, rising, “to be a man and wed
+where and how you will!” He withdrew to the main hall to don his cap
+and spurs. As he stooped to strap the latter, he saw a sheet of paper,
+crinkled by recent dampness, lying on the floor. He picked it up--and
+read it.
+
+     “The plan you suggest is worthy of you, Madame. The
+     Englishman is fair game, being a common enemy. Let
+     us gain our ends through the heart, since his purse
+     is impregnable to assaults. But the countess? Why not
+     the pantry maid, since the other is an American? They
+     lack discrimination. The king grows weaker every
+     day. Nothing was found in the Englishman's rooms. I
+     fear that the consols are in the safe at the British
+     legation. As usual, a courier will arrive each night.
+                           B.”
+
+
+
+“Why--not--the--pantry maid?” Maurice drawled. “That is flippant.” He
+read the message again. “What plan?” Suddenly he struck his thigh. “By
+George, so that is it, eh, Madame? So that is why we are so comfortably
+lodged here? I am in the way, and you bait the hook with a countess!
+Since the purse will not lead the way, the heart, eh? Certainly I shall
+tell my lord the Englishman all about his hostess when I return from the
+ride. Decidedly you are clever. O, how careless! Not even in cipher, so
+that he who reads may run. And who is B.?--Beauvais! Something told me
+that this man had a hand in the affair. I remember the look he gave me.
+A traitor, too.
+
+“Hang my memory, which seems always to forget what I wish to remember
+and remember what I wish to forget! Where have I met this man Beauvais
+before? Ah, the countess!” He thrust the message into his breast.
+“Evidently Madame thinks I am worth consideration; uncommonly pretty
+bait. Shall I let the play run on, or shall I tell her? Ah! you have
+two minutes to spare,” he said, as she approached. “But you do not need
+them,” throwing a deal of admiration into his glance.
+
+“It does not take me long to dress--on occasions.”
+
+“A compliment to me?” he said.
+
+“If you will accept it.”
+
+It was an exhilarating morning, full of forest perfumes. Through the
+haze the mountains glittered like huge emeralds and amethysts.
+
+“What a day!” said the countess, as they galloped away.
+
+“Aye, for plots and war and love!”
+
+“For plots and war?” demurely. Her cheeks were rosy and her hair as
+yellow as the silk of corn.
+
+“Well, then, for love.” He shortened his rein. “A propos, have you ever
+been in love, countess?”
+
+“I? What a question!”
+
+“Have you?”
+
+“N--no! Let us talk of plots and war,” gazing across the valley.
+
+“No; let us talk of love. I am in love, and one afflicted that way
+wishes a confidant. I appoint you mine.”
+
+“Some rosy-cheeked peasant girl?” laughing.
+
+“Perhaps. Perhaps it's only a--a pantry maid,” with a sly look from the
+corner of his eyes. Evidently she had not heard. She was still laughing.
+“I have heard of hermits falling in love with stars, and have laughed.
+Now I am in the same predicament. I love a star--”
+
+“Operatic? To be sure! Mademoiselle Lenormand of the Royal Vienna is in
+Bleiberg. How she keeps her age!”
+
+It was Maurice's turn to laugh.
+
+“And that is why you came to Bleiberg! Ah, these opera singers, had I my
+way, they should all be aged and homely.”
+
+“Countess, you are pulling the bit too hard,” said he. “I noticed
+yesterday that your horse has a very tender mouth.”
+
+“Thank you.” She slacked the rein. “He was going too close to the ditch.
+You were saying--”
+
+“No, it was you who were saying that all actresses should be aged and
+homely. But it is not Mademoiselle Lenormand, it is not the peasant, nor
+the pantry maid.”
+
+This time she looked up quickly.
+
+“The woman I love is too far away, so I am going to give up thinking of
+her. Countess, I made a peculiar discovery this morning.”
+
+“A discovery, Monsieur? What is it?”
+
+“Do you see that fork in the road, a mile away? When we reach it and
+turn I'll tell you what it is. If I told you now it might spoil the
+ride. What a day, truly! How clear everything is! And the air is like
+wine.” He drew in deep breaths.
+
+“Let us hurry and reach the fork in the road; my curiosity is stifling
+me.”
+
+Maurice did not laugh as she expected he would. As she observed the
+thoughtful frown between his brows, a shiver of dread ran through her.
+It did not take long to cover the intervening mile. They turned, and the
+horses fell into a quick step.
+
+“Now, Monsieur; please!”
+
+After all... But he quelled the gentle tremor in his heart. A month
+ago, had he known her, he might now have told her altogether a different
+story. He could see that she had not an inkling of what was to come (for
+he had determined to tell her); and he vaguely wondered if he should
+bring humiliation to the dainty creature. It would be like nicking
+a porcelain cup. Her brows were arched inquisitively and her lips
+puckered....He had had a narrow escape.
+
+He drew the message from his breast, leaned across and handed it to her.
+
+“Why, what is this, Monsieur?”
+
+“Read it and see.” And he busied himself with the tangled mane of his
+horse. When they had ridden several yards, he heard her voice.
+
+“Here, Monsieur.” The hand was extended, but the face was averted.
+
+“Countess, you are too charming a woman to lend yourself to such
+schemes.”
+
+There was no reply.
+
+“Did you not volunteer to make me fall in love with you to keep me from
+interfering with Madame's plans?” It was brutal, but he was compelled to
+say it.
+
+Silence.
+
+“Did you not?” he persisted. “When one writes such messages as these,
+one should use an intricate cipher. Had I been other than a prisoner,
+what I have done would not be the act of a gentleman. But I am a
+prisoner; I must defend myself. To rob a man through his love! And
+such a man! He is a very infant in the hands of a woman. He has been a
+soldier all his life. All women to him are little less than angels; he
+knows nothing of their treachery, their deceit, their false smiles. It
+will be an easy victory, or rather it would have been, for I shall do my
+best to prevent it. Madame is not unknown to me; I have been waiting to
+see what meant this peculiar house party.
+
+“Perhaps I am now too late. Madame distrusts me. I dare say she has her
+reasons. She went to you. You were to occupy me. I was young, I liked
+the society of women, I was gay and careless. She has decked me out as
+one would deck a monkey (and doubtless she calls me one behind my back),
+and has offered me a sword to play with.
+
+“In America, when a man puts a sword in his hand, it is to kill
+somebody. Here--aye, all over the continent, for that matter--swords are
+baubles for young nobles, used to slash each other in love affairs. I
+respect and admire you; had I not done so, I should not have spoken.
+Countess, be frank with me, as frank as I have been with you; have I not
+guessed rightly?”
+
+“Yes, Monsieur,” her head bowed and her cheeks white. “Yes, yes! it was
+a miserable game. But I love Madame; I would sacrifice my pride and my
+heart for her, if need be.”
+
+“I can believe that.”
+
+“And believe me when I say that the moment I saw you, I knew that my
+conduct was going to be detestable. But I had given my promise. A woman
+has but little to offer to her country; I have offered my pride, and I
+am a proud woman, Monsieur. I am ashamed. I am glad that you spoke, for
+it was becoming unbearable to throw myself at a man whose heart I knew
+intuitively to be elsewhere.” She raised her eyes, which were filled
+with a strange luster. “Will you forgive me, Monsieur?”
+
+“With all my heart. For now I know that we shall be friends. You will
+be relieved of an odious part; for you are too handsome not to have in
+keeping some other heart besides your own.”
+
+He then began gaily to describe some of his humorous adventures, and
+continued in this vein till they arrived once more at the chateau.
+Sometimes the countess laughed, but he could see that her sprightliness
+was gone. When they came under the porte cochere he sprang from his
+horse and assisted her to dismount; and he did not relinquish her hand
+till he had given it a friendly pressure. She stood motionless on the
+steps, centered a look on him which he failed to interpret, then ran
+swiftly into the hall, thence to her room, the door of which she bolted.
+
+“It would not be difficult,” he mused, communing with the thought which
+had come to him. “It would be something real, and not a chimera.”
+
+He turned over the horses to the grooms, and went in search of
+Fitzgerald to inform him of his discovery; but the Englishman was
+nowhere to be found. Neither was Madame. Being thirsty, he proceeded to
+the dining hall. Fadette, the maid, was laying the silver.
+
+“Ah, the `pantry maid,'” he thought. “Good day, Fadette.”
+
+“Does Monsieur wish for something?”
+
+“A glass of water. Thanks!”
+
+She retreated and kept her eyes lowered.
+
+“Fadette, you are charming. Has any one ever told you that?”
+
+“O, Monsieur!” blushing.
+
+“Have they?” lessening the distance between them.
+
+“Sometimes,” faintly. She could not withstand his glance, so she retired
+a few more steps, only to find herself up with the wall.
+
+With a laugh he sprang forward and caught her face between his hands and
+imprinted a kiss on her left cheek. Suddenly she wrenched herself loose,
+uttered a frightened cry and fled down the pantryway.
+
+“What's the matter with the girl?” he muttered aloud. “I wanted to ask
+her some questions.”
+
+“Ask them of me, Monsieur,” said a voice from the doorway.
+
+Maurice wheeled. It was Madame, but her face expressed nothing. He saw
+that he had been caught. The humor of the situation got the better of
+him, and he laughed. Madame ignored this unseemly hilarity.
+
+“Monsieur, is this the way you return my kindness?”
+
+“Permit me to apologize. As to your kindness, I have just discovered
+that it is of a most dangerous quality.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“I mean that I could not kiss Madame the countess with the same sense of
+security as I could the--pantry maid,” bowing.
+
+Just now Madame's face expressed a good deal. “Of what are you talking?”
+ advancing a step.
+
+“I had in mind what our friend, Colonel Beauvais, remarked in his recent
+dispatch: I know no discrimination. The fact is, I do. I found the
+dispatch on the floor this morning. Allow me to return it to you. I have
+kept silent, Madame, because I did not know how to act.”
+
+“You have dared--?” her lips pressed and her eyes thunderous.
+
+“To read it? Aye. I am a prisoner; it was in self-defense. Madame, you
+do me great honor. A countess! What consideration to the indiscriminate!
+Au revoir, then, till luncheon;” and he left the room, whistling--
+
+Voici le sabre de mon pere!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. THE DENOUEMENT
+
+At no time during the afternoon did Maurice find the opportunity to
+speak privately to Fitzgerald. Madame hovered about, chatting, smiling
+and humming snatches of song. She seemed to have formed a sudden
+attachment for Maurice; that is to say, she could not bear to lose sight
+of him, not for the briefest moment.
+
+He swallowed his chagrin, for he could but confess that it was
+sugar-coated. Madame had at last considered his case, and had labeled
+him dangerous. Somehow a man always likes to be properly valued. It
+re-establishes his good opinion of himself.
+
+Well, well; however affectionate Madame might be, she could scarcely
+carry it beyond the threshold of his chamber, and he was determined to
+retire at an early hour. But he had many things to learn.
+
+Fitzgerald was abandoned to the countess, who had still much color to
+regain. From time to time the Englishman looked over his shoulder to see
+what was going on between Madame and his friend, and so missed half of
+what the countess said.
+
+“Come,” thought Maurice, “it is time I made a play.”
+
+The blackberries were ripe along the stone walls which surrounded the
+chateau. Maurice wandered here and there, plucking what fruit he could
+find. Now and then he would offer a branch to Madame. At length, as
+though by previous arrangement with Madame, the countess led Fitzgerald
+around to the other side of the chateau, so that Madame and Maurice were
+alone. Immediately the smile, which had rested on her lips, vanished.
+Her companion was gazing mountainward, and cogitating. How fared those
+in Bleiberg?
+
+“What a beautiful world it is!” said a low, soft voice close to his ear.
+
+Maurice resumed his berry picking.
+
+“What exquisite tints in the skies!” went on the voice; “what matchless
+color in the forests!”
+
+Maurice plucked a berry, ate it, and smacked his lips. It was a good
+berry.
+
+“But what a terrible thing it would be if one should die suddenly, or
+be thrown into a windowless dungeon, shut out from all these splendid
+reaches?”
+
+Maurice plucked another berry, but he did not eat it. Instinctively he
+turned--and met a pair of eyes as hard and cold and gray as new steel.
+
+“That,” said he, “sounds like a threat.”
+
+“And if it were, Monsieur, and if it were?”
+
+“If it were, I should say that you had discovered that I know too much.
+I suspected from the first; the picture merely confirmed my suspicions.
+I see now that it was thoughtless in me not to have told my friend; but
+it is not too late.”
+
+“And why, I ask, have I not suppressed you before this?”
+
+“Till to-day, Madame, you had not given me your particular
+consideration.” Then, as if the conversation was not interesting him, he
+returned to the berries. “There's a fine one there. It's a little high;
+but then!” He tiptoed, drew the branch from the wall, and snatched the
+luscious fruit. “Ah!”
+
+“Monsieur, attend to me; the berries can wait.”
+
+“Madame, the life of a good blackberry is short.”
+
+“To begin with, you say that I did not show you consideration. Few
+princes have been shown like consideration.”
+
+“I was wrong. It is not every man that has a countess--and a pretty one,
+too!--thrown at his head.”
+
+Madame was temporarily silenced by this retort; it upset her
+calculations. She scrutinized the clean, smooth face, and she saw lines
+which had hitherto escaped her notice. She was at last convinced that
+she had to contend with a man, a man who had dealt with both men and
+women. How deep was he? Could honors, such as she could give, and
+money plumb the depths?... He was an American. She smiled the smile of
+duplicity.
+
+“Monsieur,” she said, “do you lack wealth?”
+
+“Yes, I lack it; but that is not to say that I desire it.”
+
+“Perhaps it is honors you desire?”
+
+“Honors? To what greater honor may I aspire than that which is written
+in my passports?”
+
+“What is written in your passports?”
+
+“That I am a citizen of the United States of America. It would not be
+good taste in me to accept honors save those that my country may choose
+to confer.”
+
+Again Madame found her foil turned aside. She began to lose patience.
+Her boot patted the sod. “Monsieur, since the countess is not high
+enough, since gold and honors have no charm, listen.”
+
+“I am listening, Madame.”
+
+“I permit you to witness the comic opera, but I shall allow no prompting
+from outsiders.”
+
+“Madame, do you expect me to sit calmly by and see my friend made a
+fool?” He spoke warmly and his eyes remained steadfast.
+
+“Certainly that is what you shall do,” coldly.
+
+“Madame, you are a beautiful woman; heaven has endowed you with
+something more than beauty. Is it possible that the gods forgot to mix
+conscience in the mold?”
+
+“Conscience? Royalty knows none.”
+
+“Ah, Madame, wait till you are royal.”
+
+“Take care. You have not felt my anger.”
+
+“I would rather that than your love.”
+
+She marveled at her patience.
+
+“If you have no conscience, Madame, I have. I shall warn him. You shall
+not dishonor him if I can prevent it. You wish to win his love, and you
+have gauged the possibilities of it so accurately that you know you will
+have but to ask, be it his honor or his life. A far finer thing it would
+be for you to win your crown at the point of the sword. There would be
+a little glory in it then. But even then, the world would laugh at you.
+For you would be waging war against a lonely woman, a paralytic king, a
+prelate who is a man of peace. What resistance could these three offer?
+
+“But to gain your ends by treachery and deceit, to rob a man of his
+brains and heart, laughing the while in your sleeve; to break his life
+and make him curse all women, from Eve to you and the mother who bore
+him! Ah, Madame, let me plead with you. Give him his liberty. Let him
+go back and complete the task imposed on him. Do not break his life,
+for life is more than a crown; do not compel him to sully his honor, for
+honor is more than life.
+
+“Your cause is just, I will admit, but do not tarnish it by such
+detestable means. 'Tis true that a crown to me signifies nothing, but
+life and honor are common to us both. With all his strength and courage,
+my friend is helpless. All his life he has been without the society of
+women. If he should love you--God help him! His love would be without
+calculation, without reason, blind and furious. Madame, do not destroy
+him.”
+
+Sometimes, in the passing, we are stopped by the sound of a voice. It
+is not the words it utters, nor the range nor tone. It is something
+indefinable, and, though we can not analyze it, we are willing to follow
+wherever it leads. Such a voice Maurice possessed, though he was totally
+ignorant of its power. But Madame, as she listened, felt its magic
+influence, and for a moment the spell rendered her mute.
+
+“Monsieur, you have missed your vocation; you plead well, indeed.
+Unfortunately, I can not hear; my ears are of wax. No, no! I have
+nourished these projects too long; they are a part of me. Laughed at,
+you say? Have I not been laughed at from one end of the continent to
+the other?” passionately. “It is my turn now, and woe to those who have
+dared to laugh. I shall sweep all obstacles away; nothing shall stop me.
+Mine the crown is, and mine it shall be. I am a woman, and I wished to
+avoid bloodshed. But not even that shall stay me; not even love!” Her
+bosom heaved, her hands were clenched, and her gray eyes flashed like
+troubled waters in the sunlight.
+
+“Madame, if you love him--”
+
+“Well?” proudly.
+
+“No, I am wrong. If you loved him you would prize above all else this
+honor of which you intend to rob him.”
+
+“I brought you here not to discuss whether I am right or wrong. Look
+about you.”
+
+Maurice was somewhat troubled to discover several troopers lounging
+about just out of earshot. They were so arranged as to prevent egress
+from the park. He looked thoughtfully at the wall. It was eight feet in
+height.
+
+Madame saw the look, and said, “Corporal!”
+
+There was a noise on the other side of the wall, and presently a head
+bobbed up.
+
+“Madame?” inquired the head.
+
+“Nothing. I wished to know if you were at your post.” She turned
+to Maurice, who was puzzled to know what all this was preamble to.
+“Monsieur Carewe, I never forget details. I had an idea that when
+I submitted my proposals to you, you might be tempted to break your
+parole.”
+
+Maurice gnawed his lip. “Proceed, Madame.”
+
+“There are only two. If you do not promise here and now in no way to
+interfere with my plans, these troopers will convey you to Brunnstadt,
+where you will be kept in confinement until the succession to the
+throne is decided one way or the other. The other proposal is, if you
+promise--and I have faith in your word--the situation will continue the
+same as at present. Choose, Monsieur. Which is it to be?”
+
+The devil gleamed in his eyes. He remained silent.
+
+“Well! Well!” impatiently.
+
+“I accept the alternative,” with bad grace. “If I made a dash--”
+
+“You would be shot; those were my orders.”
+
+“And if I went to prison--”
+
+“You would miss what you call the comic opera, but which to me is all
+there is in life. You say that I have read your friend well. That is
+true. Do you think that it is easy for me to lessen myself in my own
+eyes? No woman lives who is prouder than I. Remember, you are not to
+hint at what I propose to do, nor who I am. See! It is all because you
+read something which was not intended for your eyes. Be my friend, or be
+my enemy, it is a matter of indifference to me. You have only yourself
+to blame. Had you gone about your business and not intruded where
+you were not wanted, neither you nor your friend would be here. No
+interference from you, Monsieur; that is the understanding.” She raised
+her hand and made a sign, and the troopers took themselves off. “Now you
+may go--to the countess, if you wish; though I dare say that she will
+not find you in the best of tempers.”
+
+“I dare say she won't,” said Maurice.
+
+
+
+Fitzgerald sat by a window in the music room. He had resurrected from no
+one knew where a clay with a broken stem. There was a thoughtful cast
+to his countenance, and he puffed away, blissfully unconscious of, or
+indifferent to, the close proximity of the velvet curtains. A thrifty
+housewife, could she have seen the smoke rise and curl and lose itself
+in the folds above, would have experienced the ecstasy of anxiety and
+perturbation. But there was no thrifty housewife at the Red Chateau,
+nothing but dreams of conquest and revenge.
+
+Twilight was gathering about, soft-footed and shadowful. Long reaches
+of violet and vermilion clouds pressed thickly on the western line of
+hills. The mists began to rise, changing from opal to sapphire. The
+fantastic melodies of wandering gypsy songs went throbbing through the
+room; rollicking gavots, Hungarian dances, low and slumbrous nocturnes.
+As the music grew sadder and dreamier, the smoker moved uneasily.
+
+Somehow, it gripped his heart; and the long years of loneliness returned
+and overwhelmed him. They marshaled past, thirteen in all; and there
+were glimpses of deserts, snowcapped mountains, men moving in the blur
+of smoke, long watches in the night. Thirteen years in God-forsaken
+outposts, with never a sight of a woman's face, the sound of her voice,
+the swish of her gown, nor a touch of the spell which radiates from her
+presence.
+
+He had never made friends. Others had come up to him and passed him, and
+had gone to the cities, leaving him to bear the brunt of the cold,
+the heat, the watchfulness. He had made his bed; he was too much his
+father's son to whine because it was hard. Often he used to think how a
+few words, from a pride humbled, would have removed the barrier. But the
+words never came, nor was the pride ever humbled.
+
+Out of all the thirteen years he could remember only six months of
+pleasure. He had been transferred temporarily to Calcutta, where his
+Colonel, who had received secret information concerning him, had treated
+him like a gentleman, and had employed him as regimental interpreter,
+for he spoke French and German and a smattering of Indian tongues.
+During his lonely hours he had studied, for he knew that some day he
+would be called upon to administer a vast fortune.... He laid the pipe
+on the sill, rested his elbows beside it, and dropped his chin in his
+hands. What a fool he had been to waste the best years of his life! His
+father would have opened to him a boundless career; he would have seen
+the world under the guidance of a master hand. And here he was to-day,
+the possessor of millions, a beggar in friends, no niche to fill, a
+wanderer from place to place.
+
+The old pile in England, he never wished to see it again; the memories
+which it would arouse would be too bitter.... The shade of Beethoven
+touched him as it passed; Mozart, Mendelssohn, Chopin. But he was
+thinking only of his loneliness, and the marvelous touch of the hands
+which evoked the great spirits was lost upon him.
+
+Maurice was seated in one of the gloomy corners. He had still much good
+humor to recover. He pulled at his lips, and wondered from time to time
+what was going on in Fitzgerald's head. Poor devil! he thought; could
+he resist this woman whose accomplishments were so varied that at one
+moment she could overthrow a throne and at the next play Phyllis to some
+strolling Corydon? Since he himself, who knew her, could entertain for
+her nothing but admiration, what hope was there for the Englishman? What
+a woman! She savored of three hundred years off. To plan by herself, to
+arrange the minutest detail, and above all to wait patiently! Patience
+has never been the attribute of a woman of power; Madame possessed both
+patience and power.
+
+The countess was seated in another dark corner. Suddenly she arose and
+said, in a voice blended with great trouble and impatience: “For pity's
+sake, Madame, cease those dirges! Play something lively; I am sad.”
+
+The music stopped, but presently began again. Maurice leaned forward.
+Madame was playing Chopin's polonaise. He laughed silently. He was in
+Madame's thoughts. It struck him, however, that the notes had a defiant
+ring.
+
+“Lights!” called Madame, rising from the stool.
+
+Immediately a servant entered with candles and retired. Maurice, when
+his eyes had grown accustomed to the lights, scanned the three faces.
+Madame's was radiant. Fitzgerald's was a mixture--a comical mixture--of
+content and enjoyment, but the countess's was as colorless as the wax
+in the candlesticks. He asked himself what other task she had to perform
+that she should take so long to recover her roses. Had the knowledge of
+her recent humiliation been too much for her?
+
+She was speaking to him. “Monsieur, will you walk with me in the park? I
+am faint.”
+
+“Are you ill, countess?” asked Madame, coming up and placing her hand
+under the soft round chin of the other and striving to read her eyes.
+
+“Not so ill, Madame, that a breath of fresh air will not revive me.”
+ When they had gained the park, the countess said to Maurice: “Monsieur,
+I have brought you here to tell you something. I fear that your friend
+is lost, for you can do nothing.”
+
+“Not even if I break my word?” he asked.
+
+“It would do no good.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“It is too late,” lowly. “I have been Madame's understudy too long not
+to read. Forgive me. I was to keep you apart; I have done so. The
+evil can not now be repaired. Your hope is that Madame has not fully
+considered his pride.”
+
+“Has she any regard for him?”
+
+“Sentiment?--love?” She uttered a short, incredulous laugh. “Madame has
+brain, not heart. Could a woman with a heart plan as she plans?”
+
+“Well, let us not talk of plots and plans; let us talk of--”
+
+“Monsieur, do not be unkind. I have asked your forgiveness. Let us not
+talk; let us be silent and listen to the night;” and she leaned over the
+terrace balustrade.
+
+Maurice floated. As he leaned beside her a strand of perfumed hair blew
+across his nostrils. ... The princess was at best a dream. It was not
+likely that he ever would speak to her again. The princess was a poem,
+unlettered and unrhymed. But here, close to him, was a bit of beautiful
+material prose. The hair again blew out toward him and he moved his
+lips. She heard the vague sound and lifted her head.
+
+Far away came the call of the sentry; a horse whinneyed in the stables.
+There was in the air the odor of an approaching storm.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. WHOM THE GODS DESTROY AND A FEW OTHERS
+
+Some time passed before Fitzgerald became aware of Maurice's departure.
+When he saw that he and Madame were alone, he said nothing, but pulled
+all the quicker at his clay. He wondered at the desire which suddenly
+manifested itself. Fly? Why should he fly? The beat of his pulse
+answered him.... What a fine thing it was to feel the presence of a
+woman--a woman like this! What a fine thing always to experience the
+content derived from her nearness!
+
+He looked into his heart; there was no animosity; there was nothing at
+all but a sense of gratefulness. In the dreary picture of his life there
+was now an illumined corner. He had ceased to blame her; she was doing
+for her country what he, did necessity so will, would do for his. And
+after all, he could not war against a woman--a woman like this. His
+innate chivalry was too deep-rooted.
+
+How soft her voice was! The color of her hair and eyes followed him
+night and day. Once he had been on the verge of sounding Maurice in
+regard to Madame, Maurice was so learned in femininities; but this
+would have been an acknowledgment of his ignorance, and pride closed
+his mouth. It was all impossible, but then, why should he return to his
+loneliness without attempting to find some one to share it with him? The
+king was safe; his duty was as good as done; his conscience was at
+ease in that direction. He needed not love, he thought, so much as
+sympathy.... Sympathy. He turned over the word in his mind as a gem
+merchant turns over in his hand a precious jewel. Sympathy; it was the
+key to all he desired--woman's sympathy. There was nothing but ash in
+the bowl of his pipe, but he continued to puff.
+
+Madame was seated at the piano again, idly thrumming soft minor chords.
+She was waiting for him to speak; she wanted to test his voice, to know
+and measure its emotion. At times she turned her head and shot a sly
+glance at him as he sat there musing. There was a wrinkle of contempt
+and amusement lurking at the corners of her eyes. Had Maurice been there
+he would have seen it. Fitzgerald might have gazed into those eyes until
+doomsday, and never have seen else than their gray fathoms. Minute after
+minute passed, still he did not speak; and Madame was forced to break
+the monotony. She was not sure that the countess could hold Maurice very
+long.
+
+“Of what are you thinking, Monsieur?” she asked, in a soft key.
+
+He started, looked up and laid the pipe on the sill. “Frankly, I was
+thinking that nothing can be gained by keeping us prisoners here.” He
+told the lie rather diffidently.
+
+“Not even forgiveness?” The lids of the gray eyes drooped and the music
+ceased.
+
+“Forgiveness? O, there is nothing to forgive you; it is only your
+mistress I can not forgive. On the contrary, there is much to thank you
+for.”
+
+“Still, whatever I do or have done is merely in accordance with her
+Highness's wishes.”
+
+He moved uneasily. “It is her will, not yours.”
+
+“Yes; the heart of Madame Amerbach is supine to the brain of Madame the
+duchess.” She rose and moved silently to the window and peered out. He
+thought her to be star-gazing; but she was not. She was endeavoring to
+see where Maurice and the countess were.
+
+“Madame, shall I tell you a secret?”
+
+“A secret? Tell me,” sitting in the chair next to his.
+
+“This has been the pleasantest week I have known in thirteen years.”
+
+“Then you forgive me!” Madame was not only mistress of music but of
+tones.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+And then, out of the fullness of his lonely heart, he told her all about
+his life, its emptiness, its deserts, its longings. Each sentence was a
+knife placed in her hands; and as she contemplated his honest face which
+could conceal nothing, his earnest eyes which could hide nothing, Madame
+was conscious of a vague distrust of herself. If only he had offered to
+fight, she thought. But he had not; instead, he was giving to her all
+his weapons of defense.
+
+“Ah, Monsieur, you do wrong to forgive me!” impulsively.
+
+He smiled.
+
+“Why should you be friendly to me when I represent all that is
+antagonistic to you?”
+
+“To me you represent only a beautiful woman.”
+
+“Ah; you have been taking lessons of your friend.”
+
+“He is a good teacher. He is one of those men whom I admire. Women have
+never mastered him. He knows so much about them.”
+
+“Yes?” a flicker in her eyes.
+
+“Beneath all his banter there is a brave heart. He is a rare man who,
+having brain and heart to guide, follows the heart.” He picked up the
+pipe and began to play a tattoo on the sill. “As for me, I know nothing
+of women, save what I have read in books, and save that I have been too
+long without them.”
+
+“And you have gone all these years without knowing what it is to love?”
+ To a man less guileless, this question would not have been in good
+taste.
+
+Fitzgerald was silent; he dared not venture another lie.
+
+“What! you are silent? Is there, after all, a woman somewhere in your
+life?”
+
+“Yes.” He continued to tap the pipe. His gaze wandered to the candles,
+strayed back to the window, then met hers steadfastly, so steadfastly,
+that she could not resist. She was annoyed.
+
+“Tell me about her.”
+
+“My vocabulary is too limited. You would laugh at me.”
+
+“I? No; love is sacred.” She had boasted to Maurice that she was without
+conscience; she had only smothered it. “Come; is she beautiful?”
+
+“Yes.” These questions disturbed him.
+
+“Certainly she must be worthy or you would not love her. She is rich?”
+
+“That does not matter; I am.” He was wishing that Maurice would hurry
+back; the desire to fly was returning.
+
+“And she rejected you and sent you to the army?”
+
+“She has not rejected me, though I dare say she would, had I the
+presumption to ask her.”
+
+“A faint heart, they say--”
+
+“My heart is not faint; it is my tongue.” He rose and wandered about the
+room. Her breath was like orris, and went to his head like wine.
+
+“Monsieur,” she said, “is it possible that you have succumbed to the
+charms of Madame the countess?”
+
+He laughed. “One may admire exquisite bric-a-brac without loving it.”
+
+“Bric-a-brac! Poor Elsa!” and Madame laughed. “If it were the countess I
+could aid you.”
+
+“Love is not merchandise, to traffic with.”
+
+Madame's cheeks grew warm. Sometimes the trick of fence is beaten down
+by a tyro's stroke.
+
+“Eh, bien, since it is not the countess--”
+
+He came toward her so swiftly that instinctively she rose and moved
+to the opposite side of her chair. Something in his face caused her to
+shiver. She had no time to analyze its meaning, but she knew that the
+shiver was not unmixed with fear.
+
+“Madame, in God's name, do not play with me!” he cried.
+
+“Monsieur, you forget yourself,” for the moment forgetting her part.
+
+“Yes, there is no self in my thoughts since they are all of you! You
+know that I love you. Who could resist you? Thirteen years? They are
+well wasted, in the end to love a woman like you.”
+
+Before she could withdraw her hands from the top of the chair he had
+seized them.
+
+“Monsieur, release me.” She struggled futilely.
+
+“I love you.” He began to draw her from behind the chair.
+
+“Monsieur, Monsieur!” she, cried, genuinely alarmed; “do not forget that
+you are a gentleman.”
+
+“I am not a gentleman now; I am a man who loves.”
+
+Madame was now aware that what she had aroused could not be subdued by
+angry words.
+
+“Monsieur, you say that you love me; do not degrade me by forcing me
+into your arms. I am a woman, and weak, and you are hurting me.”
+
+He let go her hands, and they stood there, breathing deeply and quickly.
+But for her it was a respite. She had been too precipitate. She brought
+together the subtle forces of her mind. She could gain nothing by force;
+she must use cunning. To hold him at arm's length, and yet to hold him,
+was her desire. She had reckoned on wax; a man stood before her. All at
+once the flutter of admiration stirred in her heart. She was a soldier's
+daughter, the daughter of a man who loved strong men. And this man was
+doubly strong because he was fearless and honest. She read in his eyes
+that a moment more and he had kissed her, a thing no man save her father
+had ever done.
+
+“O, Monsieur,” she said lightly, “you soldiers are such forward lovers!
+You have not even asked me if I love you.” He made a move to regain her
+hands. “No, no!” darting behind the chair. “You must not take my hands;
+you do not realize how strong you are. I am not sure that my heart
+responds to yours.”
+
+“Tell me, what must I do?” leaning across the chair.
+
+“You must have patience. A woman must be wooed her own way, or not at
+all. What a whirlwind you are!”
+
+“I would to heaven,” with a gesture indicative of despair, “that you
+had kept me behind bars and closed doors.” He dropped his hands from the
+chair and sought the window, leaning his arms against the central frame.
+
+Madame had fully recovered her composure. She saw her way to the end.
+
+“It is true,” she said, “that I do not love you, but it is also true
+that I am not indifferent to you. What proof have I that you really love
+me? None, save your declaration; and that is not sufficient for a woman
+such as I am. Shall I place my life in your hands for better or for
+worse, simply because you say you love me?”
+
+“My love does not reason, Madame.”
+
+She passed over this stroke. “I do not know you; it is not less than
+natural for me to doubt you. What proof have I that your declaration
+of love is not a scheme to while away your captivity at my expense?
+My heart is not one to be taken by storm. There is only one road to my
+affections; it is narrow. Other men have made love to me, but they have
+hesitated to enter upon this self-same road.”
+
+“Love that demands conditions? I have asked none.”
+
+Madame blushed. “A man offers love; a woman confers it.”
+
+“And what is this narrow road called which leads to your affections? Is
+your heart a citadel?”
+
+“It is called sacrifice. Those who dwell in my heart, which you call a
+citadel, enter by that road.”
+
+“Sacrifice?” Fervor lighted his face again. “Do you wish my fortune? It
+is yours. My life? It is yours. Do you wish me to lead the army of the
+duchess into Bleiberg? It shall be done. Sacrifice? I have sacrificed
+the best years of youth for nothing; my life has been made up of
+sacrifices.”
+
+“Monsieur, if I promised to listen to you here-after, if I promised a
+heart that has never known the love of man, if I promised lips that have
+never known the lips of any man save my father--” She moved away from
+the chair, within an arm's length of him. “If I promised all these
+without reservation, would you aid me to give back to the duchess her
+own?”
+
+Instantly her arms were pinioned to her sides, and he had drawn her so
+close that she could feel his heart beat against her own.
+
+“Have no fear,” he said. The voice was unfamiliar to her ears. “I shall
+not kiss you. Let me look into your eyes, Madame, your eyes, and read
+the lie which is written there. My fortune and my life are not enough.
+Keep your love, Madame; I have no wish to purchase it. What! if I
+surrender my honor it is agreed that you surrender yours? A love such as
+mine requires a wife. You would have me break my word to the dead and
+to the living, and you expect me to believe in your promises! Faugh!” He
+pushed her from him, and resumed his stand by the window.
+
+The hate of a thousand ancestors surged into her heart, and she would
+have liked to kill him. Mistress! He had dared. He had dared to speak to
+her as no other man living or dead had dared. And he lived. All that
+was tigerish in her soul rose to the surface; only the thought of the
+glittering goal stayed the outburst. She had yet one weapon. A minute
+went by, still another; silence. A hand was laid tremblingly on his arm.
+
+“Forgive me! I was wrong. Love me, love me, if you must. Keep your
+honor; love me without conditions. I--” She stumbled into the chair,
+covered her eyes and fell to weeping.
+
+Fitzgerald, dumfounded and dismayed, looked down at the beautiful head.
+He could fight angry words, tempests of wrath--but tears, a woman's
+tears, the tears of the woman he loved!
+
+“Madame,” he said gently, “do you love me?”
+
+No answer.
+
+“Madame, for God's sake, do not weep! Do you love me? If you love me--if
+you love me--”
+
+She sprang to her feet. Once again she experienced that shiver; again
+her conscience stirred.
+
+“I do not know,” she said. “But this I may say: your honor, which you
+hold above the price of a woman's love, will be the cause of bloodshed.
+Mothers and wives and sisters will execrate your name, brave men will be
+sacrificed needlessly. What are the Osians to you? They are strangers.
+You will do for them, and uselessly, what you refuse to do for the woman
+you profess to love. I abhor bloodshed. Your honor is the offspring of
+pride and egotism. Can you not see the inevitable? War will be declared.
+You can not help Leopold; but you can save him the degradation of being
+expelled from his throne by force of arms. The army of the duchess is
+true to its humblest sword. Can you say that for the army of the king?
+Would you witness the devastation of a beautiful city, by flame and
+sword?
+
+“Monsieur, Austria is with us, and she will abide with us whichever
+way we move. Austria, Monsieur, which is Leopold's sponsor. And this
+Leopold, is he a man to sit upon a throne? Is he a king in any sense of
+the word? Would a king submit to such ignominy as he submits to without
+striking a blow? Would he permit his ministers to override him? Would he
+permit his army to murmur, his agents to plunder, his people to laugh
+at him, if he possessed one kingly attribute? No, no! If you were king,
+would you allow these things? No! You would silence all murmurs, you
+would disgorge your agents, you would throttle those who dared to laugh.
+
+“Put yourself in the duchess's place. All these beautiful lands are hers
+by right of succession; is she wrong to desire them? What does she wish
+to accomplish? She wishes to join the kingdom and the duchy, and to make
+a great kingdom, as it formerly was. Do you know why Leopold was seated
+upon the throne?
+
+“Some day the confederation will decide to divide all these lands into
+tidbits, and there will be no one to oppose them. Madame the duchess
+wishes to be strong enough to prevent it. And you, Monsieur, are the
+grain of sand which stops all this, you and your pride. Not even a
+woman's love--There, I have said it!--not even a woman's love--will move
+your sense of justice. Go! leave me. Since my love is nothing, since
+the sacrifice I make is useless, go; you are free!” The tears which came
+into her eyes this time were genuine; tears of chagrin, vexation, and of
+a third sensation which still remained a mystery to her.
+
+To him, as she spoke, with her wonderful eyes flashing, a rich color
+suffusing her cheeks and throat and temples, the dim candle light
+breaking against the ruddy hair; honor or pride, whichever it was, was
+well worth the losing. He was a man; it is only the pope who is said to
+be infallible. His honor could not save the king. All she had said was
+true. If he held to his word there would be war and bloodshed.
+
+On the other hand, if he surrendered, less harm would befall the king,
+and the loss of his honor--was it honor?--would be well recompensed for
+the remainder of his days by the love of this woman. His long years of
+loneliness came back; he wavered. He glanced first at her, then at the
+door; one represented all that was desirable in the world, the other
+more loneliness, coupled with unutterable regret. Still he wavered, and
+finally he fell.
+
+“Madame, will you be my wife?”
+
+“Yes.” And it seemed to her that the word, came to her lips by no
+volition of hers. As she had grown red but a moment gone, she now grew
+correspondingly pale, and her limbs shook. She had irrevocably committed
+herself. “No, no!” as she saw him start forward with outstretched arms,
+“not my lips till I am your wife! Not my lips; only my hands!”
+
+He covered them with kisses.
+
+“Hush!” as she stepped back.
+
+It was time. Maurice and the countess entered the room. Maurice
+glanced from Madame to Fitzgerald and back to Madame; he frowned. The
+Englishman, who had never before had cause to dissemble, caught up his
+pipe and fumbled it. This act merely discovered his embarrassment to the
+keen eyes of his friend. He had forgotten all about Maurice. What would
+he say? Maurice was something like a conscience to him, and his heart
+grew troubled.
+
+“Madame,” Maurice whispered to the countess, “I have lost all faith in
+you; you have kept me too long under the stars.”
+
+“Confidences?” said Madame, with a swift inquiring glance at the
+countess.
+
+“O, no,” said Maurice. “I simply complained that Madame the countess
+had kept me too long under the stars. But here is Colonel Mollendorf,
+freshly returned from Brunnstadt to inform you that the army is fully
+prepared for any emergency. Is not that true, Colonel?” as he beheld
+that individual standing in the doorway.
+
+“Yes; but how the deuce--your pardon, ladies!--did you find that out?”
+ demanded the Colonel.
+
+“I guessed it,” was the answer. “But there will be no need of an army
+now. Come, John, the Colonel, who is no relative of the king's minister
+of police, has not the trick of concealing his impatience. He has
+something important to say to Madame, and we are in the way. Come along,
+AEneas, follow your faithful Achates; Thalia has a rehearsal.”
+
+Fitzgerald thrust his pipe into a pocket. “Good night, Madame,” he said
+diffidently; “and you, countess.”
+
+“Good night, Colonel,” sang out Maurice over his shoulder, and together
+the pair climbed the stairs.
+
+Fitzgerald was at a loss how to begin, for something told him that
+Maurice would demand an explanation, though the affair was none of
+his concern. He filled his pipe, fired it and tramped about the room.
+Sometimes he picked up the end of a window curtain and felt of it;
+sometimes he posed before one of the landscape oils.
+
+“You have something on your mind,” said Maurice, pulling off his hussar
+jacket and kicking it across the room.
+
+“Madame has promised to be my wife.”
+
+“And the conditions?” curtly.
+
+Fitzgerald pondered over the other's lack of surprise. “What would you
+do if you loved a woman and she promised to be your wife?”
+
+“I'd marry her,” sitting down at the table.
+
+“What would you do in my place, and Madame had promised to marry you?”
+ puffing quickly.
+
+“I'd marry her,” answered Maurice, banging his fist on the table, “even
+if all the kings and queens of Europe rose up against me. I would marry
+her, if I had to bind her hands and feet and carry her to the altar and
+force the priest at the point of a pistol, which, in all probability, is
+what you will have to do.”
+
+“I love her,” sullenly.
+
+“Do you know who she is?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Would it make any difference?”
+
+“No. Who is she?”
+
+“She is a woman without conscience; she is a woman who, to gain her
+miserable ends, will stop neither at falsehood, deceit nor bloodshed. Do
+you want me to tell you more? She is--”
+
+“Maurice, tell me nothing which will cause me to regret your friendship.
+I love her; she has promised to be my wife.”
+
+“She will ruin you.”
+
+“She has already done that,” laconically.
+
+“Do you mean to tell me--”
+
+“Yes! For the promise of her love I am dishonored. For the privilege
+of kissing her lips I have sold my honor. To call her mine, I would go
+through hell. God! do you know what it is to be lonely, to starve in
+God-forsaken lands, to dream of women, to long for them?”
+
+“And the poor paralytic king?”
+
+“What is he to me?”
+
+“And your father?”
+
+“What are my dead father's wishes? Maurice, I am mad!”
+
+“You are a very sick man,” Maurice replied crossly. “What's to become of
+all these vows--”
+
+“You are wasting your breath! Do you remember what Rochefoucauld said
+of Madame de Longueville?--`To win her heart, to delight her beautiful
+eyes, I have taken up arms against the king; I would have done the same
+against the gods!' Is she not worth it all?” with a gesture of his arms
+which sent the live coals of his pipe comet-like across the intervening
+space. “Is she not worth it all?”
+
+“Who?--Madame de Longueville? I thought she was dead these two hundred
+years!”
+
+“Damn it, Maurice!”
+
+“I will, if you say so. The situation is equal to a good deal of plain,
+honest damning.” Maurice banged his fist again. “John, sit down and
+listen to me. I'll not sit still and see you made a fool. Promises?
+This woman will keep none. When she has wrung you dry she will fling
+you aside. At this moment she is probably laughing behind your back.
+You were brought here for this purpose. Threats and bribes were without
+effect. Love might accomplish what the other two had failed to do. You
+know little of the ways of the world. Do you know that this house party
+is scandalous, for all its innocence? Do you know that Madame's name
+would be a byword were it known that we have been here more than two
+weeks, alone with two women? Who but a woman that feels herself above
+convention would dare offer this affront to society? Do you know why
+Madame the countess came? Company for Madame? No; she was to play make
+love to me to keep me out of the way. Ass that I was, I never suspected
+till too late! Madame's name is not Sylvia Amerbach; it is--”
+
+The door opened unceremoniously and in walked the Colonel.
+
+“Your voices are rather high, gentlemen,” he said calmly, and sat down
+in an easy chair.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. BEING OF COMPLICATIONS NOT RECKONED ON
+
+Maurice leaped to his feet, a menace in his eyes. The Colonel crossed
+his legs, rested his hands on the hilt of his saber, and smiled.
+
+“I could not resist the desire to have a friendly chat with you.”
+
+“You have come cursed inopportune,” snarled Maurice. “What do you want?”
+
+“I want to give you the countersigns, so that when you start for
+Bleiberg to-morrow morning you'll have no trouble.”
+
+“Bleiberg!” exclaimed Maurice.
+
+“Bleiberg. Madame desires me to say to you that you are to start for
+that city in the morning, to fetch those slips of parchment which have
+caused us all these years of worry. Ah, my friend,” to Fitzgerald,
+“Madame would be cheap at twenty millions! You sly dog! And I never
+suspected it.”
+
+Fitzgerald sent him a scowl. “You are damned impertinent, sir.”
+
+“Impertinent?” The Colonel uncrossed his legs and brought his knees
+together. “Madame has been under my care since she was a child,
+Monsieur; I have a fatherly interest in her. At any rate, I am glad that
+the affair is at an end. It was very noble in you. If I had had my way,
+though, it would have been war, pure and simple. I left the duchess in
+Brunnstadt this morning; she will be delighted to attend the wedding.”
+
+“She will attend it,” said Maurice, grimly; “but I would not lay odds on
+her delight. Colonel, the devil take me if I go to Bleiberg on any such
+errand.” He went to the window seat.
+
+The Colonel rose and followed him. “Pardon me,” he said to Fitzgerald,
+who did not feel at all complimented by Madame's haste; “a few words in
+Monsieur Carewe's ear. He will go to Bleiberg; he will be glad to go.”
+ He bent towards Maurice. “Go to Bleiberg, my son. A word to him about
+Madame, and off you go to Brunnstadt. Will you be of any use there?
+I think not. The little countess would cry out her pretty eyes if she
+heard that you were languishing in the city prison at Brunnstadt, where
+only the lowest criminals are confined. Submit gracefully, that is to
+say, like a soldier against whom the fortunes of war have gone. Go to
+Bleiberg.”
+
+“I'll go. I give up.” It was not the threat which brought him to this
+decision. It was a vision of a madonna-like face. “I'll go, John. Where
+are the certificates?”
+
+“Between the mattresses and the slats of my bed you will find a gun in
+a case. The certificates are in the barrels.” His countenance did not
+express any particular happiness; the lines about his mouth were sharper
+than usual.
+
+“The devil!” cried the Colonel; “if only I had known that!” He laughed.
+“Well, I'll leave you. Six o'clock--what's this?” as he stooped and
+picked up Maurice's cast-off hussar jacket.
+
+“I was about to use it as a door mat,” said Maurice, who was in a nasty
+humor. That Fitzgerald had surrendered did not irritate him half so
+much as the thought that he was the real puppet. His hands were tied, he
+could not act, and he was one that loved his share in games.
+
+The Colonel reddened under his tan. “No; I'll not lose my temper,
+though this is cause enough. Curse me, but you lack courtesy. This is my
+uniform, and whatever it may be to you it is sacred to me. You were not
+forced into it; you were not compelled to wear it. What would you do if
+a man wore your uniform and flung it around in this manner?”
+
+“I'd knock him down,” Maurice admitted. “I apologize, Colonel; it was
+not manly. But you must make allowances; my good nature has suffered a
+severe strain. I'll get into my own clothes to-morrow if you will have
+a servant sew on some buttons and mend the collar. By the way, who is
+eating three meals a day in the east corridor on the third floor?”
+
+Their glances fenced. The Colonel rubbed his mustache.
+
+“I like you,” he said; “hang me if I don't. But as well as I like you,
+I would not give a denier for your life if you were found in that
+self-same corridor. The sentinel has orders to shoot; but don't let that
+disturb you; you will know sooner or later. It is better to wait than be
+shot. A horse will be saddled at six. You will find it in the court. The
+countersigns are Weixel and Arnoldt. Good luck to you.”
+
+“The same to you,” rejoined Maurice, “only worse.”
+
+The Colonel's departure was followed by a period of temporary
+speechlessness. Maurice smoked several “Khedives,” while Fitzgerald
+emptied two or three pipe-bowls.
+
+“You seem to be in bad odor, Maurice,” the latter ventured.
+
+“In more ways than one. Where, in heaven's name, did you resurrect that
+pipe?”
+
+“In the stables. It isn't the pipe, it's the tobacco. I had to break up
+some cigars.”
+
+Then came another period in the conversation. It occurred to both that
+something yawned between them--a kind of abyss. Out of this abyss one
+saw his guilt arise.... A woman stood at his side. He had an accomplice.
+He had thrown the die, and he would stand stubbornly to it. His pride
+built yet another wall around him, impregnable either to protests or to
+sneers. He loved--that was recompense enough. A man will forgive himself
+of grave sins when these are debtors to his love.
+
+As for the other, he beheld a trust betrayed, and he was powerless to
+prevent it. Besides, his self-love smarted, chagrin made eyes at him;
+and, more than all else, he recognized his own share in the Englishman's
+fall from grace. It had been innocent mischief on his part, true, but
+nevertheless he stood culpable. He had no business to talk to a woman he
+did not know. The more he studied the aspects of the situation the more
+whimsical it grew. He was the prime cause of a king losing his throne,
+of a man losing his honor, of a princess becoming an outcast.
+
+“Your bride-elect,” he said, “seems somewhat over-hasty. Well, I'm off
+to bed.”
+
+“Maurice, can you blame me?”
+
+“No, John; whom the gods destroy they first make mad. You will come to
+your senses when it is too late.”
+
+“For God's sake, Maurice, who is she?”
+
+“What will you do if she breaks her promise?” adroitly evading the
+question.
+
+“What shall I do?” He emptied the ashes from his pipe, and rose; all
+that was aggressive came into his face. “I will bind her hands and feet
+and carry her to the altar, and shoot the priest that refuses to marry
+us. O Maurice, rest easy; no woman lives who will make a fool of me, and
+laugh.”
+
+“That's comfort;” and Maurice turned in.
+
+This night it was the Englishman who sat up till the morning hours.
+Sylvia Amerbach.... A fear possessed him. If it should be, he thought;
+if it should be, what then?
+
+
+
+Midnight in Madame's boudoir; no light save that which streamed rosily
+from the coals in the grate. The countess sat with her slippered feet
+upon the fender. She held in her hand a screen, and if any thoughts
+marked her face, they remained in blurred obscurity.
+
+“Heu!” said Madame from the opposite side; “it is all over. It was
+detestable. I, to suffer this humiliation! Do you know what I have done?
+I have promised to be his wife! His wife, I! Is it not droll?” There was
+a surprising absence of mirth in the low laugh which followed.
+
+“I trust Madame will find it droll.”
+
+“And you?”
+
+“And I, Madame?”
+
+“Yes; did you not bring the clown to your feet?”
+
+“No, Madame.”
+
+“How? You did not have the joy denied me--of laughing in his face?”
+
+“No, Madame.” With each answer the voice grew lower.
+
+“Since when have I been Madame to you?”
+
+“Since to-day.”
+
+Madame reached out a hand and pressed down the screen. “Elsa, what is
+it?”
+
+“What is what, Madame?”
+
+“This strange mood of yours.”
+
+Silence.
+
+“You were gay enough this morning. Tell me.”
+
+“There is nothing to tell, Madame, save that my sacrifices are at an
+end. I have nothing left.”
+
+“What! You forsake me when the end is won?” in astonishment.
+
+“I did not say that I should desert you; I said that I had no more
+sacrifices to make.” The Countess rose. “For your sake, Madame, because
+you have always been kind to me, and because it is impossible not to
+love you, I have degraded myself. I have pretended to love a man who saw
+through the artifice and told me so, to save me further shame. O Madame,
+it is all execrable!
+
+“And you will use this love which you have gained--this first love of
+a man who has known no other and will know no other while he lives!--to
+bring about his ruin? This other, at whose head you threw me--beware of
+him. He is light-hearted and gay, perhaps. You call him a clown; he
+is cunning and brave; and unless you judge him at his true value, your
+fabric of schemes will fall ere it reaches its culmination. Could even
+you trick him with words? No. You were compelled to use force. Is he not
+handsome, Madame?” with a feverish gaiety. “Is there a gentleman at your
+court who is a more perfect cavalier? Why, he blushes like a woman! Is
+there in your court--” But her sentence broke, and she could not go on.
+
+“Elsa, are you mad?”
+
+“Yes, Madame, yes; they call it a species of madness.” Then, with a
+sudden gust of wrath: “Why did you not leave me in peace? You have
+destroyed me! O, the shame of it!” and she fled into her own room.
+
+Madame sat motionless. This, among other things, she had not reckoned
+on.
+
+Only the troopers and the servants slept in peace that night.
+
+Maurice was up betimes next morning. The hills and valleys lay under a
+mantle of sparkling rime, and the very air, keen of edge and whistling,
+glistened in the sunlight. The iron shoes of the horses beat sharply
+on the stone flooring of the court yard. Maurice examined his riding
+furniture; pulled at the saddle, tugged at the rein buckles, lifted the
+leather flaps and tried the stirrup straps. It was not that he doubted
+the ability of the groom; it was because this particular care was second
+nature to him.
+
+Fitzgerald watched him, and meditated. Some of his thoughts were not
+pleasant. His eyes were heavy. At times he would lift his shoulders and
+permit half a smile to flicker over his lips; a certain thought caused
+this. The Colonel sat astride a broad-chested cavalry horse, spotless
+white. He was going to accompany Maurice to the frontier. He had imbibed
+the exhilarating tonic of the morning, and his spirits ran high. At
+length Maurice leaped into the saddle, caught the stirrups well, and
+signaled to the Colonel that he was ready.
+
+“You understand, Maurice?” Fitzgerald asked.
+
+“Yes, John; all the world loves a lover. Besides, it is a glorious
+morning for a ride. Up, portcullis, down drawbridge!” waving his hand to
+the Colonel.
+
+And away they went through the gateway, into the frosted road. Maurice
+felt the spirit of some medieval ancestor creep into his veins and he
+longed for an hour of the feudal days, to rescue a princess from some
+dungeon-keep and to harry an over-lord. After all, she was a wonderful
+woman, and Fitzgerald was only a man. To give up all for the love of
+woman is the only sacrifice a man can make.
+
+“En avant!” cried the Colonel. “A fine day, a fine day for the house of
+Auersperg!”
+
+“And a devilish bad one for the houses of Fitzgerald and Carewe. Woman's
+ambition, coupled with her deceit, is the root of all evil; money is
+simply an invention of man to protect himself from her encroachments.
+Eve was ambitious and deceitful; all women are her daughters. When the
+pages of history grow dull--”
+
+“Time puts a maggot in my lady's brain,” supplemented the Colonel. “It
+is like a row of dominoes. The power behind the throne, the woman behind
+the power; an impulse moves the woman, and lo! how they clatter down.
+But without woman, history would be poor reading. The greatest battles
+in the world, could we but see behind, were fought for women. Men are
+but footnotes, and unfortunately history is made up of footnotes. But it
+is a fine thing to be a footnote; that is my ambition.
+
+“Ah, if you but knew what a pleasure it is for an old man like me to
+have a finger in the game time plays! To meddle with affairs, directly
+or indirectly! Kingdoms are but judy shows, kings and queens but
+puppets; but we who pull the strings--Ah, that is it! To play a game of
+chess with crowns!”
+
+“There are exceptions; Madame seems to hold the strings in this
+instance.”
+
+“Madame follows my advice in all she does.”
+
+Maurice opened his eyes at this statement.
+
+“Would you believe an old man like me could lay such a train? All this
+was my idea. It was difficult to get Madame to agree with my views.
+War? I am not afraid of it; I am suspicious of it. One day your friend
+returned a personal letter of Madame's having written across it, `I
+laugh at you.' It was very foolish. No man laughs at Madame more than
+once. She will, one day, return this letter to him. A crown, a fine
+revenge, in one fell swoop.”
+
+“She will ruin him utterly?”
+
+“Utterly.”
+
+“Have you any idea what sort of man my friend is?”
+
+“He lacks the polish of a man of affairs, and he surrenders too easily.”
+
+“He will never surrender--Madame.”
+
+“How?”
+
+“You remember his father; he will prove his father's son, every inch of
+him. O, my Colonel, the curtain has only risen. One fine morning your
+duchy will wake up without a duchess.”
+
+“What do you imply--an abduction?” The Colonel laughed.
+
+“That is my secret.”
+
+“And the pretty countess?” banteringly.
+
+“It was rather bad taste in Madame. It was putting love and patriotism
+to questionable purposes. I am a gentleman.”
+
+“It was out of consideration for you; Madame was not quite sure about
+you. But you are right; all of it has rather a dark shade. You may rob
+a man of his valuables and give them back; a broken word is not to be
+mended. Why did you keep the hiding place so secret? I could have got
+those consols, and all this would have been avoided.”
+
+“How should I know where they were? It was none of my affair.”
+
+“We are trusting you; I might have gone myself. You will return with the
+treasure. Why have I not asked your word? Curiosity will bring you back;
+curiosity. Besides this, you have an idea that with your presence about,
+a flaw in the glass may be found. Yes, you will be back. History is to
+be made; when you are old you will glance at the page and say: `Look
+there; rather a pretty bit, eh? Well, I helped to make it; indeed, had
+it not been for me and my curiosity it would not have been made at all.'
+Above all things, do not stop to talk to veiled women.”
+
+There was a chuckling sound. “I say, your Englishman is clever now and
+then. In the gun barrels! Who would have looked for them there? But why
+did he come himself? Why did he not trust to his bankers? Why did he not
+turn over the affair to his representative, the British minister? There
+were a hundred ways of averting the catastrophe. Why did he not use
+a little fore-thought when he knew how anxious we were for his
+distinguished person?”
+
+“Why does the moon rise at night and the sun at dawn? I am no Cumaean
+Sybil. Perhaps it is the impulse which moves the woman behind the power
+behind the throne; they call it fate. Had I been in his place I dare say
+I should have followed his footsteps.”
+
+Not long after they arrived at the frontier where they were to separate,
+to meet again under conditions disagreeable to both. The Colonel gave
+him additional instructions.
+
+“Go; return as quickly as possible.”
+
+“Never fear; I should not like to miss the finale to this opera bouffe.”
+
+“Rail on, my son; call it by any name you please, only do not interrupt
+the prompter;” and with this the Colonel waved him an adieu.
+
+Maurice began the journey through the mountain pass, thinking and
+planning and scheming. However he looked at the situation, the end
+was the same: the Osians were doomed. If he himself played false
+and retained the certificates until too late to be of benefit to the
+duchess, war would follow; and the kingdom would be soundly beaten....
+Would Prince Frederick still hold to his agreement and marry her Royal
+Highness, however ill the fortunes of war fared? There was a swift
+current of blood to his heart. The Voiture-verse of a countess faded
+away.... Supposing Prince Frederick withdrew his claims? Some day her
+Highness would be free; free, without title or money or shelter. It was
+a wild dream. Was there not, when all was said, a faint hope for his own
+affairs in the fall of Fitzgerald?
+
+She was lonely, friendless, personally known to few. Still, she would be
+an Osian princess for all her misfortunes. But an Osian princess was not
+so great that love might not possess her. Without royalty she would be
+only a woman. What would Austria do; what would Austria say? If Austria
+had placed Leopold on the throne, certainly it was to shut out the house
+of Auersperg.
+
+And who was this man Beauvais, who served one house openly and another
+under the rose? Where had he met him before, and why did the thought
+of him cause unrest? To rescue her somehow, to win her love, to see the
+glory of the world light the heavens in her eyes! If the dream was mad,
+it was no less pleasant.
+
+He was a commoner; he had nothing in the world but his brain and his
+arm. Fitzgerald, now, possessed a famous title and an ancient name.
+These kings and princes hereabout could boast of but little more than
+he; and there were millions to back him. He could dream of princesses
+and still be sane. Maurice did not envy the Englishman's riches, but he
+coveted his right of way.
+
+How often had he indulged in vain but pleasant dreams! Even in the old
+days he was always succoring some proud beauty in distress. Sometimes
+it was at sea, sometimes in railroad wrecks, sometimes in the heart of
+flames; but he was ever there, like a guardian angel. It was never the
+same heroine, but that did not matter; she was always beautiful and
+rich, high placed and lovable, and he never failed to brush aside all
+obstacles that beset the path to the church door. He had dreamed of
+paladins, and here at last was his long-sought opportunity--but he could
+do nothing! He laughed. How many such romances lay beneath the banter
+and jest of those bald bachelor diplomat friends of his? Had fate
+reserved him for one of these?
+
+It was noon when he entered the city of Bleiberg. He went directly to
+his hotel, where a bath and a change of clothes took the stiffness from
+his limbs. He was in no great hurry to go to the Grand Hotel; there was
+plenty of time. Happily there was no mail for him; he was not needed in
+Vienna.
+
+At two o'clock he set out for the lower town. On the way he picked up
+odd ends of news. The king was rapidly sinking; he had suffered another
+stroke, and was now without voice. There was unusual activity in
+the barracks. The students of the university were committing mild
+depredations, such as building bonfires, holding flambeau processions,
+and breaking windows which contained the photographs of Prince Frederick
+of Carnavia, who, strangely enough, was still wrapt in obscurity. When
+Maurice entered the Grand Hotel he looked casually among the porters,
+but the round-faced one was missing. He approached the desk. The
+proprietor did not recognize him.
+
+“No, my friend,” said Maurice, affably, as a visitors' book was pushed
+forward, “I am not going to sign. Instead, I wish to ask a favor. A week
+ago a party of the king's troopers met upstairs.”
+
+The proprietor showed signs of returning memory, together with a strange
+agitation.
+
+“There was a slight disturbance,” went on Maurice, still using the
+affable tone. “Herr--ah--Hamilton, I believe--”
+
+The proprietor grew limp and yellow. “I--I do not know where he is.”
+
+“I do,” replied Maurice. “Don't you recognize me? Have I changed so
+since I came here to doctor a sprained ankle?”
+
+“You?--Before God, Herr, I was helpless; I had nothing to do with it!”
+ terrified at the peculiar smile of the victim.
+
+“The key to this gentleman's room,” was the demand.
+
+“I--”
+
+“The key, and be quick about it.”
+
+The key came forth. “You will say nothing, Herr; it would ruin my
+business. It was a police affair.”
+
+“Has any one been in this room since?”
+
+“No, Herr; the key has been in my pocket.”
+
+“Where is the porter who brought me here?”
+
+“He was not a porter; he was with the police.”
+
+Maurice passed up the stairs. He found the room in disorder, but a
+disorder rather familiar to his eyes. He had been the cause of most of
+it. Here was where he broke the baron's arm and thumped three others on
+the head. It had been a good fight. Here was a hole in the wall where
+one of the empty revolvers had gone--missing the Colonel's head by an
+inch.
+
+There was a smudge on the carpet made by the falling candles. He saw
+Fitzgerald's pipe and picked it up. No; the chamber maid had not yet
+been there. He went over to the bed, stared at it and shrugged. He
+raised the mattress. There was the gun case. He drew it forth and took
+out the gun, not, however, without a twist of his nerves.
+
+Four millions of crowns, a woman's love, the fall of one dynasty and the
+rise of another, all wadded in those innocent looking gun barrels!
+He hesitated for a space, then unlocked the breech and held the tubes
+toward the window. There was nothing in the barrels, nothing but the
+golden sunlight, which glinted along the polished steel.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. QUI M'AIME, AIME MON CHIEN
+
+On making this discovery Maurice was inclined to declaim in that
+vigorous vocabulary which is taboo. He had been tricked. He was no
+longer needed at the Red Chateau. Four millions in a gun barrel; hoax
+was written all over the face of it, and yet he had been as unsuspicious
+as a Highland gillie. Madame had tricked him; the countess had tricked
+him, the Colonel and Fitzgerald.
+
+That Madame had tricked him created no surprise; what irritated him most
+was the conviction that Fitzgerald was laughing in his sleeve, and that
+he had misjudged the Englishman's capacity for dissimulation. Very well.
+He threw the gun on the bed; he took Fitzgerald's pipe from his pocket
+and cast it after the gun, and with a gesture which placed all the
+contents of the room under the ban of his anathema, he strode out into
+the corridor, thence to the office.
+
+Here the message to Madame from Beauvais flashed back. The Colonel of
+the royal cuirassiers had lied; he had found the certificates. But still
+there was a cloud of mystery; to what use could Beauvais put them? He
+threw the key to the landlord.
+
+“You lied to me when you said that no one had entered that room,” he
+said.
+
+“O, Herr, I told you that no one but the police had been in the room
+since your departure. They made a search the next morning. Herr Hamilton
+was suspected of being a spy of the duchy's. I could not interfere with
+the police.”
+
+Maurice saw that there was nothing to be got from the landlord, who was
+as much in the dark as he. He passed into the street and walked without
+any particular end in view. O, he would return to the Red Chateau, if
+only to deliver himself of the picturesque and opinionated address on
+Madame. Once he saw his reflection in a window glass, and he stopped and
+muttered at it.
+
+“Eh, bien, as Madame herself says, we develop with crises, and certainly
+there is one not far distant. I never could write what I wish to say to
+Madame; I'll go back to-morrow morning.”
+
+Situated between the university and the Grand Hotel on the left hand
+side of the Konigstrasse, east, stood an historical relic of the days
+when Austria, together with the small independent states, strove to
+shake off the Napoleonic yoke. In those days students formed secret
+societies; societies full of strange ritual, which pushed devotion
+to fanaticism, which stopped at nothing, not even assassination. To
+exterminate the French, to regain their ancestral privileges, to rescue
+their country from its prostrate humiliation, many sacrificed their
+lives and their fortunes.
+
+Napoleon found no means of reaching these patriots, for they could not
+be purchased. This convinced Napoleon of their earnestness, for he could
+buy kings and princes. The students were invisible, implacable, and many
+a brilliant officer of the imperial guard disappeared, never to return.
+
+This historic relic of the Konigstrasse had been the headquarters of one
+of the branches of these numerous societies; and the students still held
+to those ancient traditions. But men and epochs pass swiftly; only the
+inanimate remain. This temple of patriotism is simply an inn to-day,
+owned by one Stuler, and is designated by those who patronize it as “Old
+Stuler's.” It is the gathering place of the students. It consists of a
+hall and a garden, the one facing the street, the other walled in at the
+rear.
+
+The hall is made of common stone, bald and unadorned save by four dingy
+windows and a tarnished sign, “Garten,” which hangs obliquely over the
+entrance. At the curb stands a post with three lamps pendant; but these
+are never lit because Old Stuler can keep neither wicks nor glass beyond
+the reach of canes.
+
+Old Stuler was well versed in the peculiarities of students. In America
+they paint statues; in Austria they create darkness. On warm, clear
+nights the students rioted in the garden; when it rained, chairs and
+tables were carried into the hall, which contained a small stage and a
+square gallery. Never a night passed without its animated scene.
+
+Here it was that the evils of monarchical systems were discussed, the
+army service, the lack of proper amusement, the restrictions at the
+stage entrance to the opera; here it was that they concocted their
+exploits, fought their duels, and planned means of outwitting Old
+Stuler's slate.
+
+Stuler was a good general; he could keep the students in order, watch
+his assistants draw beer, the Rhine wine, and the scum (dregs of the
+cask, muddy and strong), and eye the accumulating accounts on the
+slate. This slate was wiped out once the month; that is to say, when
+remittances came from home. The night following remittances was a
+glorious one both to Stuler and the students. There were new scars, new
+subjects for debate, and Stuler got rid of some of his prime tokayer.
+The politics of the students was socialism, which is to say they were
+always dissatisfied. Tourists seldom repeated their visits to Stuler's.
+There was too much spilling of beer in laps, dumping of pipe ash into
+uncovered steins, and knocking off of stiff hats.
+
+It was in front of Old Stuler's that Maurice came to a pause. He had
+heard of the place and the praise of its Hofbrau and Munich beers. He
+entered. He found the interior dark and gloomy, though outside the sun
+shone brilliantly. He ordered a stein of Hofbrau, and carried it into
+the main hall, which was just off the bar-room. It was much lighter
+here, though the hall had the tawdry appearance of a theater in the
+day-time; and the motes swam thickly in the beams of sunshine which
+entered through the half-closed shutters. It was only at night that
+Stuler's was presentable.
+
+Scarcely a dozen men sat at the tables. In one corner Maurice saw what
+appeared to be a man asleep on his arms, which were extended the width
+of the table. It was the cosiest corner in the hall, and Maurice decided
+to establish himself at the other side of the table, despite the present
+incumbent. Noiselessly he crossed the floor and sat down. The light was
+at his back, leaving his face in the shadow, but shone squarely on the
+sleeper's head.
+
+“I do not envy his headache when he wakes up,” thought Maurice. He had
+detected the vinous odor of the sleeper's breath. “These headaches,
+while they last, are bad things. I know; I've had 'em. I wonder,”
+ lifting the stein and draining it, “who the duffer was who said that
+getting drunk was fun? His name has slipped my memory; no matter.” He
+set down the stein and banged the lid.
+
+The sleeper stirred. “Rich,” he murmured; “rich, rich! I'm rich! A
+hundred thousand crowns!”
+
+“My friend, I'm not in the position to dispute with you on that
+subject,” said Maurice, smiling. He rapped the stein again.
+
+The sleeper raised his head and stared stupidly,
+
+“Rich, aye, rich!” He was still in half a dream. “Rich, I say!”
+
+“Hang it, I'm not arguing on that,” Maurice laughed.
+
+The other swung upright at this, his round, oily face sodden, his black
+eyes blinking. He threw off the stupor when he saw that it was a man and
+not the shadow of one.
+
+“Who the devil are you?” he asked, thickly.
+
+Maurice seldom forgot a face. He recognized this one. “Oho!” he said,
+“so it's you, eh? I did not expect to meet you. Happily I had you in
+mind. You are not employed at present as a porter at the Grand Hotel? So
+it is you, my messenger!”
+
+“Who are you and what are you talking about? I don't know you.”
+
+“Wait a moment and I'll refresh your memory.” Maurice theatrically
+thrust a cigar between his teeth and struck a match. As the flame
+illumined his features the questioner started. “So you do not recognize
+me, eh? You haven't the slightest remembrance of Herr Hamilton and his
+sprained ankle, eh? Sit down or I'll break your head with this stein,
+you police spy!” dropping the bantering tone.
+
+The other sat down, but he whistled sharply; and Maurice saw the dozen
+or so rise from the other tables and come hurriedly in his direction. He
+pushed back his chair and rose, his teeth firmly embedded in the cigar,
+and waited.
+
+“What's the trouble, Kopf?” demanded the newcomers.
+
+“This fellow accuses me of being a spy and threatens to break my head.”
+
+“O! break your head, is it? Let us see. Come, brothers; out with this
+fellow.”
+
+Maurice saw that they were about to charge him, and his hand went to his
+hip pocket and rested on the butt of the revolver which the Colonel had
+given him. “Gentlemen,” he said, quietly, “I have no discussion with
+you. I have a pistol in my pocket, and I'm rather handy with it. I
+desire to talk to this man, and talk to him I will. Return to your
+tables; the affair doesn't concern you.”
+
+The intended assault did not materialize. They scowled, but retired a
+few paces. They saw the movement toward the hip pocket, and they noted
+the foreign twist of the tongue. Moreover, they did not like the angle
+of the speaker's jaws. They shuffled, looked questioningly at one
+another, and, as if all of a single mind, went slowly back to their
+chairs. Kopf grew pale. Indeed, his pallor was out of all proportion
+with the affair, which Maurice took to be no more than a comedy.
+
+“Brothers,” he said, huskily, “he will not dare.”
+
+“Don't you doubt it for a moment,” interrupted Maurice, taking out the
+revolver and fondling it. “Any interference will mean one or more cases
+for the hospital. Come, I'm not the police,” to Kopf. “I am not going
+to hurt you. I wish only to ask you a few questions, which is my right
+after what has passed between us. We'll go to my hotel, where we shan't
+be disturbed.”
+
+Together they left the hall. As they passed through the bar-room Stuler
+looked questions, but refrained from asking them. Maurice put away the
+revolver. As they went out into the street he drew Kopf's arm within his
+own.
+
+“What do you want?” asked Johann, savagely.
+
+“First. What is your place in this affair?”
+
+“What affair?”
+
+“The abduction.”
+
+“I had nothing to do with it, Herr, on my honor. I was only a porter,
+and I supposed my errand was in good faith.”
+
+“How about the gentle push you gave me when the door opened? My friend,
+I'm no infant. Lies will do you no good. I know everything, and wish
+only to verify. You are a police spy, in the employ of the duchess.”
+ Maurice felt the arm draw, and bore down on it.
+
+“If I was, do you suppose I'd fool my time on this side of the
+Thalians?” Johann shrugged.
+
+“I'm not sure about that,” said Maurice, puffing into Johann's face.
+“When cabinet ministers play spy, small fry like you will not cavil at
+the occupation. And you are not in their pay?” Johann glared. “I want
+to know,” Maurice went on, “what you know; what you know of Colonel
+Beauvais, his plans, his messengers to the duchy, what is taking place
+underneath.”
+
+Johann's face cleared and a cunning light brightened his eyes. “If that
+is all you are after, I'll tell you. I'm a spy no longer; they have no
+more use for me, despite their promises. I'll play them off for quits.”
+
+“If that's all,” repeated Maurice, “what did you think I wanted to ask
+you?”
+
+Johann bit his lip. “I'm wanted badly by the chancellor, curse you, if
+you must know. I thought he might be behind you.”
+
+“Don't worry about that,” said Maurice, to whom this declaration seemed
+plausible. “We'll talk as we go along.”
+
+And Johann loosened his tongue and poured into Maurice's ear a tale
+which, being half a truth, had all the semblance of straightforwardness.
+What he played for was time; to gain time and to lull his captor's
+suspicions. Maurice was not familiar with the lower town; Johann was.
+A few yards ahead there was an alley he knew, and once in it he could
+laugh at all pursuit. It might be added that if Maurice knew but little
+of the lower town, he knew still less about Johann.
+
+Suddenly, in the midst of his narrative, Johann put his leg stiffly
+between his enemy's and gave a mighty jerk with his arm, with the result
+that Maurice, wholly unprepared, went sprawling to the pavement. He was
+on his feet in an instant, but Johann was free and flying up the alley.
+Maurice gave chase, but uselessly. Johann had disappeared. The alley was
+a cul de sac, but was lined with doors; and these Maurice hammered to
+ease his conscience. No one answered. Deeply disgusted with his lack of
+caution, Maurice regained the street, where he brushed the dust from his
+knees.
+
+“I'll take it out of his hide the next time we meet. He wasn't worth the
+trouble, anyway.”
+
+A sybil might have whispered in his ear that a very large fish had
+escaped his net, but Maurice continued, conscious of nothing save
+chagrin and a bruised knee. He resumed the piecing together of events,
+or rather he attempted to; very few pieces could be brought together. If
+Beauvais had the certificates, what was his object in lying to Madame?
+What benefit would accrue to him? After all, it was a labyrinth of paths
+which always brought him up to the beginning. He drooped his shoulders
+dejectedly. There was nothing left for him to do but return to the Red
+Chateau and inform them of the fruitlessness of his errand. He would
+start on the morrow. Tonight he wanted once more to hear the band,
+to wander about the park, to row around the rear of the archbishop's
+garden.
+
+“A fine thing to be born in purple--sometimes,” he mused. “I never knew
+till now the inconveniences of the common mold.”
+
+He tramped on, building chateaux en Espagne. That they tumbled down did
+not matter; he could rebuild in the space of a second, and each castle
+an improvement on its predecessor.
+
+His attention was suddenly drawn away from this idle but pleasant
+pursuit. In a side street he saw twenty or thirty students surging back
+and forth, laughing and shouting and jostling. In the center of this
+swaying mass canes rose and fell. It was a fight, and as he loved a
+fight, Maurice pressed his hat firmly on his head and veered into
+the side street. He looked around guiltily, and was thankful that no
+feminine eyes were near to offer him their reproaches. He jostled among
+the outer circle, but could see nothing. He stooped. Something white
+flashed this way and that, accompanied by the sound of low growls. A dog
+fight was his first impression, and he was on the point of leaving, for,
+while he secretly enjoyed the sight of two physically perfect men waging
+battle, he had not the heart to see two brutes pitted against each
+other, goaded on by brutes of a lower caste. But even as he turned the
+crowd opened and closed, and the brief picture was enough for him.
+
+Her dog! And the students were beating it because they knew it to be
+defenseless. Her dog! toothless and old, who could not hold when his
+jaws closed on an arm or leg, but who, with that indomitable courage of
+his race, fought on and on, hopelessly and stubbornly.
+
+He was covered with blood, one of his legs was hurt, but still the
+spirit burned. It was cowardly. Maurice's jaws assumed a particularly
+ferocious angle. Her dog! Rage choked him. With an oath he flung this
+student aside and that, fought his way to the center. A burly student,
+armed with a stout cane, was the principal aggressor.
+
+Maurice doubled his fist and swung a blow which had one hundred and
+sixty pounds behind it, and it landed squarely on the cheek of the
+student, who dropped face downward and lay still. This onslaught was so
+sudden and unexpected that the students were confounded. But Maurice,
+whose plans crystallized in moments like these, picked up the cane and
+laid it about him.
+
+The students swore and yelled and stumbled over one another in their
+wild efforts to dodge the vindictive cane. Maurice cleared a wide
+circle. The dog, half blinded by his blood and not fully comprehending
+this new phase in the tide of events, lunged at Maurice, who nimbly
+eluded him. Finally the opportunity came. He flung the cane into the
+yelling pack, with his left arm caught the dog about the middle, and
+leaped back into the nearest doorway. The muscles of his left arm were
+sorely tried; the dog considered his part in the fray by no means ended,
+and he tugged and yelped huskily. With his right hand Maurice sought his
+revolver, cocked and leveled it. There came a respite. The students
+had not fully recovered from their surprise, and the yells sank into
+murmurs.
+
+“You curs!” said Maurice, panting. “Shame on you! and an old dog that
+can't defend himself! You knew he had no teeth.”
+
+“God save your Excellency!” laughed a student in the rear, who had not
+tasted the cane; “you may be sure we knew he had no teeth or we wouldn't
+have risked our precious calves. Don't let him scare you with the
+popgun, comrades. At him, my brave ones; he will be more sport than the
+dog! Down with the Osians, dogs, followers and all!”
+
+“Come on, then,” said Maurice, whose fighting blood was at heat. “Come
+on, if you think it isn't over. There are six bullets in this popgun,
+and I don't give a particular damn where they go. Come on!”
+
+Whether or not this challenge would have been accepted remains
+unwritten. There now came on the air the welcome sound of galloping
+hoofs, and presently two cuirassiers wheeled into the street. What
+Maurice had left undone with the cane the cuirassiers completed with the
+flat of their sabers. They had had a brush with the students the night
+before, and they went at them as if determined to take both interest and
+principal. The students dispersed like leaves in the wind--all save one.
+He rose to his feet, his hands covering his jaw and a dazed expression
+in his eyes. He saw Maurice with the revolver, the cuirassiers with
+their sabers, and the remnant of his army flying to cover, and he
+decided to follow their example. The scene had changed somewhat since he
+last saw it. He slunk off at a zigzag trot.
+
+One of the cuirassiers dismounted, his face red from his exertions.
+
+“Eh?” closely scanning Maurice's white face. “Well, well! is it you,
+Monsieur Carewe?”
+
+“Lieutenant von Mitter?” cried Maurice, dropping the dog, who by now had
+grasped the meaning of it all. “You came just in time!”
+
+They shook hands.
+
+“I'll lay odds that you put up a good fight,” the Lieutenant said,
+pleasantly. “Curse these students! If I had my way I'd coop them all up
+in their pest-hole of a university and blow them into eternity.”
+
+“And how did the dog come in this part of the town?” asked Maurice,
+picking up his hat.
+
+“He was with her Royal Highness. This is charity afternoon. She drives
+about giving alms to the poor, and when she enters a house the dog
+stands at the entrance to await her return. She came out of another door
+and forgot the dog. Max there remembered him only when we were several
+blocks away. A dozen or so of those rascally students stood opposite us
+when we stopped here. It flashed on me in a minute why the dog did not
+follow us. And we came back at a cut, leaving her Highness with no one
+but the groom. Max, take the dog to her Highness, and tell her that it
+is Monsieur Carewe who is to be thanked.”
+
+Maurice blushed. “Say nothing of my part in the fracas. It was nothing
+at all.”
+
+“Don't be modest, my friend,” said the cuirassier, laughing, while his
+comrade dismounted, took the dog under his arm, and made off. “This is
+one chance in a lifetime. Her Royal Highness will insist on thanking
+you personally. O, I know Mademoiselle's caprices. And there's your
+hat, crushed all out of shape. Truly, you are unfortunate with your
+headgear.”
+
+“It's felt,” said Maurice, slapping it against his leg. “No harm done to
+the hat. Well, good day to you, Lieutenant, and thanks. I must be off.”
+
+“Nay, nay!” cried the Lieutenant. “Wait a moment. `There is a tide in
+the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood--' How does that line go?
+I was educated in England and speak English as I do my mother tongue--”
+
+“Won't you let me go?” asked Maurice. “Look at my clothes.”
+
+“You ought to be thankful that they are dry this time. Come; you'll have
+a good story to carry back to Vienna. Princesses do not eat people.”
+
+“No,” said Maurice.
+
+“Ye gods, listen to that! One would think by the tone of your voice that
+you wished they did!”
+
+There was no resisting this good humor; and Maurice wanted only an
+excuse to wait. He sat down on the steps, sucked the knuckles of his
+hand, and contemplated the grin on the cuirassier's face.
+
+“I like you,” said the Lieutenant; “I like your sangfroid. The palace is
+a devil of a dull place, and a new face is a positive relief. I suppose
+you know that affairs here are bad; no honesty anywhere. Everybody has
+his hands tied. The students know this, and do as they please. Think of
+two hundred gendarmes in the city, and an affair like this takes place
+without one of them turning up!
+
+“I tell you frankly that it is all I can do to withhold the edge of my
+saber when I meet those students. Last night they held a noisy flambeau
+procession around the Hohenstaufenplatz, knowing full well that the king
+had had another stroke and quiet was necessary. They would have waked
+the dead. I have an idea that I forgot to use the flat of my sword; at
+least, the hospital report confirms my suspicions. Ah, here comes Max.”
+
+“Her Royal Highness desires to thank Monsieur Carewe, and commands that
+he be brought to her carriage.”
+
+Lieutenant von Mitter smiled, and Maurice stood up and brushed himself.
+The troopers sprang into the saddle and started on a walk, with Maurice
+bringing up behind on foot. The thought of meeting the princess,
+together with his recent exertions, created havoc with his nerves. When
+he arrived at the royal carriage, his usual coolness forsook him. He
+fumbled with his hat, tongue-tied. He stood in the Presence.
+
+“Monsieur,” said the Voice, “I thank you with all my heart for your
+gallant service. Poor, poor dog!”
+
+“It was nothing, your Highness; any man would have done the same thing.”
+ The red in the wheel-spokes bothered his eyes.
+
+“No, no! you must not belittle it.”
+
+“If it had not been for Lieutenant von Mitter--”
+
+“Whither were you going, Monsieur?” interrupted the Voice.
+
+“Nowhere; that is, I was going toward my hotel.”
+
+“The Continental?”
+
+“Yes, your Highness.”
+
+“Step into the carriage, Monsieur;” the Voice had the ring of command.
+“I will put you down there. It is the least that I can do to show my
+gratitude.”
+
+“I--I to ride with your Highness?” he stammered. “O, no! I--that is--it
+would scarcely be--”
+
+“You are not afraid of me, Monsieur?” with a smile which, though it had
+a bit of the rogue in it, was rather sad. She moved to the other side of
+the seat and put the dog on the rug at her feet. “Perhaps you are proud?
+Well, Monsieur, I too am proud; so proud that I promise never to forgive
+you if you refuse to gratify my wish.”
+
+“I was not thinking of myself, your Highness, or rather I was. I am not
+presentable. Look at me; my hat is out of shape, my clothes dusty, and I
+dare say that my face needs washing.”
+
+The Presence replied to this remarkable defense with laughter, laughter
+in which Maurice detected an undercurrent of bitterness.
+
+“Monsieur Carewe, you are not acquainted with affairs in Bleiberg, or
+you would know that I am a nobody. When I pass through the streets I
+attract little attention, I receive no homage. Enter: I command it.”
+
+“If your Highness commands--”
+
+“I do command it,” imperiously. “And you would have pleased me more
+fully if you had accepted the invitation and not obeyed the command.”
+
+“I withdraw all objections,” he said hastily, “and accept the
+invitation.”
+
+“That is better,” the Voice said.
+
+Maurice, still uncovered, sat down on the front seat.
+
+“Not there, Monsieur; beside me. Etiquette does not permit you to ride
+in front of me.”
+
+As he took the vacant place beside her he felt a fire in his cheeks. The
+Voice and Presence were disquieting. As the groom touched the horses,
+Maurice was sensible of her sleeve against his, and he drew away. The
+Presence appeared unmindful.
+
+“And you recognize me?” she asked.
+
+“Yes, your Highness.” He tried to remember what he had said to her that
+day in the archbishop's garden. Two or three things came back and the
+color remounted his cheeks.
+
+“Have you forgotten what you said to me?”
+
+“I dare say I was impertinent,” vaguely.
+
+“Ah, you have forgotten, then!”
+
+In all his life he never felt so ill at ease. To what did she refer?
+That he would be proud to be her friend? That if the princess was as
+beautiful as the maid he could pass judgment?
+
+“Yes, you have forgotten. Do you not remember that you offered to be
+my friend?” She read him through and through, his embarrassment, the
+tell-tale color in his cheeks. She laughed, and there was nothing but
+youth in the laughter. “Certainly you are afraid of me.”
+
+“I confess I am,” he said. “I can not remember all I said to you.”
+
+Suddenly she, too, remembered something, and it caused the red of the
+rose to ripple from her throat to her eyes. “Poor dog! Not that they
+hated him, but because I love him!” Tears started to her eyes. “See,
+Monsieur Carewe; princesses are human, they weep and they love. Poor
+dog! My playmate and my friend. But for you they might have killed him.
+Tell me how it happened.” She knew, but she wanted to hear the story
+from his own lips.
+
+His narrative was rather disjointed, and he slipped in von Mitter as
+many times as possible, thinking to do that individual a good turn.
+Perhaps she noticed it, for at intervals she smiled. During the telling
+he took out his handkerchief, wiped the dog's head with it, and wound it
+tightly about the injured leg. The dog knew; he wagged his tail.
+
+How handsome and brave, she thought, as she observed the face in
+profile. Not a day had passed during the fortnight gone that she had not
+conjured up some feature of that intelligent countenance; sometimes it
+had been the eyes, sometimes the chin and mouth, sometimes the shapely
+head. It was wrong; but this little sin was so sweet. She had never
+expected to see him again. He had come and gone, and she had thought
+that the beginning and the end. Ah, if only she were not a princess! If
+only some hand would sweep aside those insurmountable barriers called
+birth and policy! To be free, to be the mistress of one's heart, one's
+dreams, one's desires!
+
+“And you did it all alone,” she said, softly; “all alone.”
+
+“O, I had the advantage; I was not expected. It was all over before they
+knew what had happened.”
+
+“And you had the courage to take a poor dog's part? Did you know whose
+dog it was?”
+
+“Yes, your Highness, I recognized him.”
+
+A secret gladness stole into her heart, and to cover the flame which
+again rose to her cheeks, she bent and smoothed the dog's head. This
+gave Maurice an opportunity to look at her. What a beautiful being
+she was! He was actually sitting beside her, breathing the same
+air, listening to her voice. She exhaled a delicate perfume such as
+incorporates itself in persons of high degree and becomes a natural
+emanation, an incense vague and indescribable. He felt that he was
+gazing on the culmination of youth, beauty, and elegance... Yes,
+Fitzgerald was right. To beggar one's self for love; honor and life, and
+all to the winds if only love remained.
+
+Presently she straightened, and he centered his gaze on the back of the
+groom.
+
+“Monsieur, place your hat upon your head,” smiling. “We have entered the
+Strasse, and I should not like to embarrass you with the attention of
+the citizens.”
+
+He put on his hat. The impulse came to tell her all that he knew in
+regard to the kingdom's affairs; but his voice refused its offices.
+Besides, it was too late; the carriage was rolling into the Platz, and
+in a moment more it drew up before the terrace of the Continental Hotel.
+Maurice stepped out and bared his head.
+
+“This evening, Monsieur, at nine, I shall expect to see you at the
+archbishop's reception to the corps diplomatique.” A hand was extended
+toward him. He did not know what to do about it. “I am offering you my
+hand to kiss, Monsieur Carewe; it is a privilege which I do not extend
+to all.”
+
+As he touched it to his lips, he was sure that a thousand pairs of eyes
+were centered on him. The truth is, there were less than one hundred.
+It was the first time in many months that the Crown Princess had stopped
+before the Continental Hotel. To the guests it was an event; and some
+even went as far as to whisper that the handsome young man was Prince
+Frederick, incognito.
+
+“God save your Royal Highness,” said Maurice, at loss for other words.
+He released her hand and stepped back.
+
+“Until this evening, then, Monsieur;” and the royal barouche rolled
+away.
+
+“Who loves me, loves my dog,” said Maurice, as he sped to his room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. IN WHICH FORTUNE BECOMES CARELESS AND PRODIGAL
+
+On the night prior to the arrival of Maurice in Bleiberg, there happened
+various things of moment.
+
+At midnight the chancellor left the palace, after having witnessed from
+a window the meeting of the cuirassiers and the students, and sought
+his bed; but his sleep was burdened with troubled dreams. The clouds,
+lowering over his administration, thickened and darkened. How many times
+had he contemplated resigning his office, only to put aside the thought
+and toil on?
+
+Defeat in the end was to be expected, but still there was ever that star
+of hope, a possible turn in affairs which would carry him on to victory.
+Victory is all the sweeter when it seems impossible. Prince Frederick
+had disappeared, no one knew where, the peasant girl theory could
+no longer be harbored, and the wedding was but three days hence. The
+Englishman had not stepped above the horizon, and the telegrams to the
+four ends of the world returned unanswered. Thus, the chancellor stood
+alone; the two main props were gone from under. As he tossed on his
+pillows he pondered over the apparent reticence and indifference of the
+archbishop.
+
+All was still in the vicinity of the palaces. Sentinels paced
+noiselessly within the enclosures. In the royal bedchamber the king was
+resting quietly, and near by, on a lounge, the state physician dozed.
+The Captain of the household troop of cuirassiers nodded in the
+ante-room.
+
+Only the archbishop remained awake. He sat in his chamber and wrote. Now
+and then he would moisten his lips with watered wine. Sometimes he held
+the pen in midair, and peered into the shapeless shadows cast by the
+tapers, his broad forehead shining and deep furrows between his eyes.
+On, on he wrote. Perhaps the archbishop was composing additional
+pages to his memoirs, for occasionally his thin lips relaxed into an
+impenetrable smile.
+
+There was little quiet in the lower town, especially in the locality of
+the university. Old Stuler's was filled with smoke, students and tumult.
+Ill feeling ran high. There were many damaged heads, for the cuirassiers
+had not been niggard with their sabers.
+
+A student walked backward and forward on the stage, waving wildly with
+his hands to command attention. It was some time before he succeeded.
+
+“Fellow-students, brothers of freedom and comrades,” he began. “All
+this must come to an end, and that at once. Our personal liberty
+is endangered. Our rights are being trodden under foot. Our ancient
+privileges are being laughed at. It must end.” This declaration was
+greeted by shouts, sundry clattering of pewter lids and noisy rappings
+of earthenware on the tables. “Have we no rights as students? Must we
+give way to a handful of beggarly mercenaries? Must we submit to the
+outlawing of our customs and observances? What! We must not parade
+because the king does not like to be disturbed? And who are the
+cuirassiers?” Nobody answered. Nobody was expected to answer. “They are
+Frenchmen of hated memory--Swiss, Prussians, with Austrian officers. Are
+we or are we not an independent state? If independent, shall we stand by
+and see our personal liberties restricted? No! I say no!
+
+“Let us petition to oust these vampires, who not only rob us of our
+innocent amusements, but who are fed by our taxes. What right had
+Austria to dictate our politics? What right had she to disavow the blood
+and give us these Osians? O, my brothers, where are the days of Albrecht
+III of glorious memory? He acknowledged our rights. He was our lawful
+sovereign. He understood and loved us.” This burst of sentiment was
+slightly exaggerative, if the history of that monarch is to be relied
+on; but the audience was mightily pleased with this recollection. It
+served to add to their distemper and wrath against the Osian puppet.
+“And where are our own soldiers, the soldiers of the kingdom? Moldering
+away in the barracks, unnoticed and forgotten. For the first time in the
+history of the country foreigners patrol the palaces. Our soldiers are
+nobodies. They hold no office at court save that of Marshal, and his
+voice is naught. Yet the brunt of the soldier's life falls on them. They
+watch at the frontiers, tireless and vigilant, while the mercenaries
+riot and play. Brothers, the time has come for us to act. The army is
+with us, and so are the citizens. Let ours be the glory of touching the
+match. We are brave and competent. We are drilled. We lack not courage.
+Let us secretly arm and watch for the opportunity to strike a blow for
+our rights. Confusion to the Osians, and may the duchess soon come into
+her own!”
+
+He jumped from the stage, and another took his place; the haranguing
+went on. The orators were serious and earnest; they believed themselves
+to be patriots, pure and simple, when in truth they were experiencing
+the same spirit of revolt as the boy whose mother had whipped him for
+making an unnecessary noise, or stealing into the buttery.
+
+While the excitement was at its height, a man, somewhat older than the
+majority of the students, entered the bar-room from the street, and
+lounged heavily against the railing. His clothes were soiled and
+wrinkled, blue circles shadowed his eyes, which were of dull jet, the
+corners of his mouth drooped dejectedly, and his oily face, covered with
+red stubble, gave evidences of a prolonged debauch.
+
+“Wine, Stuler, wine!” he called, laying down a coin, which gleamed dimly
+yellow in the opalescent light. “And none of your devilish vinegars and
+scums.”
+
+Stuler pounced on the coin and rubbed it between his palms. “Gold,
+Johann, gold?”
+
+“Aye, gold; and the last of a pocketful, curse it! What's this noise
+about?” with a gesture, toward the hall.
+
+“The boys were in the Platz and had a brush with those damned
+cuirassiers. They'll play a harder game yet.” Stuler always took sides
+with the students, on business principles; they constituted his purse.
+“Tokayer?”
+
+“No; champagne. Aye, these damned cuirassiers shall play a hard game ere
+the week is done, or my name is not Johann Kopf. They kicked me out of
+the palace grounds yesterday; me, me, me!” hammering the oak with his
+fist.
+
+“Who?”
+
+“Von Mitter, the English-bred dog! I'll kill him one of these days. Is
+it play to-night, or are they serious?” nodding again toward the hall.
+
+“Go in,” said Stuler, “and look at some of those heads; a look will
+answer the purpose.”
+
+Johann followed this advice. The picture he saw was one which agreed
+with the idea that had come into his mind. He returned to the bar-room.
+and drank his wine thirstily, refilled the glass and emptied it. Stuler
+shook his head. Johann was in a bad way when he gulped wine instead of
+sipping it. Yet it was always so after a carouse.
+
+“Where have you been keeping yourself the past week?” he asked. If the
+students were his purse, Johann was his budget of news.
+
+“You ask that?” surlily. “You knew I had money; you knew that I was off
+somewhere spending it--God knows where, I don't. Another bottle of wine.
+There's enough left from the gold to pay for it.”
+
+Stuler complied. Johann's thirst seemed in no way assuaged; but soon the
+sullen expression, the aftermath of his spree, was replaced by one of
+reckless jollity. His eyes began to sparkle.
+
+“A great game, Stuler; they're playing a great game, and you and I will
+be in at the reaping. The town is quiet, you say? The troops have
+ceased murmuring, eh? A lull that comes before the storm. And when it
+breaks--and break it will!--gay times for you and me. There will be
+sacking. I have the list of those who lean toward the Osians. There will
+be loot, old war dog!”
+
+Stuler smiled indulgently; Johann was beginning to feel the wine.
+Perhaps he was to learn something. “Yes, 'twill be a glorious day.”
+
+“A week hence, and the king goes forth a bankrupt.”
+
+“If he lives,” judiciously.
+
+“Dead or alive, it matters not which; he goes.”
+
+“And the wedding? What is it I hear about Prince Frederick and the
+peasant girl?”
+
+Johann laughed. “There will be no wedding.”
+
+“And the princess?”
+
+“A pretty morsel, a tidbit for the king that is to be.”
+
+“The king that--eh, Johann, are you getting drunk so soon?” Stuler
+exclaimed. “I know of no king--”
+
+Johann reached over and caught the innkeeper's wrist. The grasp was no
+gentle one. “Listen, that was a slip of the tongue. Repeat it, and that
+for your life! Do you understand, my friend?”
+
+“Gott in--”
+
+“Do you understand?” fiercely.
+
+“Yes, yes!” Stuler wiped his face with his apron.
+
+“Good, if you understand. It was naught but a slip of the tongue,”
+ nonchalantly. “In a little week, my friend, your till will have no
+vulgar silver in it; gold, yellow gold.”
+
+“And the duchess?” with hesitance. The budget of news to-night was not
+of the usual kind.
+
+Johann did not answer, save by a shrug.
+
+The perturbation of the old man was so manifestly beyond control that he
+could not trust his legs. He dropped on the stool, giving his grizzled
+head a negative shake. “I would that you had made no slip of the tongue,
+Johann,” he murmured. “Gott, what is going on? The princess was not to
+wed, to be sure, but the duchess passed--a king besides--”
+
+“Silence!” enjoined Johann. “Stuler, I am about to venture on a daring
+enterprise, which, if successful, will mean plenty of gold. Come with
+me into your private office, where we shall not be interrupted nor
+overheard.” He vaulted the bar. Stuler looked undecided. “Come!”
+ commanded Johann. With another shake of his head Stuler took down the
+tallow dip, unlocked the door, and bade Johann pass in. He caught up
+another bottle and glass and followed. Without a word he filled the
+glass and set it down before Johann, who raised it and drank, his beady
+eyes flashing over the rim of the glass and compelling the innkeeper to
+withdraw his gaze.
+
+“Well?” said Stuler, uneasily.
+
+“I need you.” Johann finished his glass with moderate slowness. “Your
+storehouse on the lake is empty?”
+
+“Yes, but--”
+
+“I shall want it, two nights from this, in case Madame the duchess does
+not conquer the Englishman. I shall want two fellows who will ask no
+questions, but who will follow my instructions to the letter. It is an
+abduction.”
+
+“A nasty business,” was Stuler's comment. “You have women to thank for
+your present occupation, Johann.”
+
+“Stuler, you are a fool. It is not a woman; it is a crown.”
+
+“Eh?” Stuler's eyes bulged.
+
+“A crown. The duchess may remain a duchess. Who is master in Bleiberg
+to-day? At whose word the army moves or stands? At whose word the Osians
+fall or reign? On whom does the duchess rely? Who is king in deed,
+if not in fact? Who will find means to liquidate the kingdom's
+indebtedness, whoever may be the creditor? Pah! the princess may marry,
+but the groom will not be Prince Frederick. The man she will marry
+will be the husband of a queen, and he will be a king behind a woman's
+skirts. It is what the French call a coup d'etat. She will be glad to
+marry; there is no alternative. She will submit, if only that her father
+may die in peace.”
+
+“And this king?” in a whisper.
+
+“You are old, Stuler; you remember many things of the past. Do you
+recollect a prince of a noble Austrian house by the name of Walmoden,
+once an aide to the emperor, who was cashiered from the army and exiled
+for corresponding with France?”
+
+Stuler's hand shook as he brushed his forehead. “Yes, I recollect.
+He fought against the Prussians in the Franco-Prussian war, then
+disappeared, to be heard of again as living in a South American
+republic. But what has he to do with all this? Ah, Johann, this is deep
+water.”
+
+“For those who have not learned to swim. You will aid me? A thousand
+crowns--two hundred pieces of gold like that which has just passed from
+my pocket into yours. It is politics.”
+
+“But the sacking of the town?”
+
+“A jest. If Madame the duchess conquers the Englishman, the king that is
+to be will pay her. Then, if she wages war Austria can say nothing for
+defending ourselves.”
+
+“And Walmoden?” Stuler struck his forehead with his fist as if to pound
+it into a state of lucidity. “Where is he? It is a stone wall; I can see
+nothing.”
+
+“Beauvais.”
+
+“Beauvais!” Stuler half rose from his chair, but sank again.
+
+“Exactly. This play, for some reason unexplained, is the price of his
+reestablishment into the graces of the noble Hapsburgs. Between us,
+I think the prince is playing a game for himself. But who shall blame
+him?”
+
+“The devil! I thought Austria was very favorable to the Osian house.”
+
+“Favorable or not, it is nothing to us.”
+
+“Well, well, it's a thousand crowns,” philosophically.
+
+“That's the sentiment,” laughed Johann. “It is not high treason, it
+is not lese majeste; it is not a crime; it is a thousand crowns. Votre
+sante, as the damned French say!” swallowing what was left of the wine.
+“And then, it is purely patriotic in us,” with a deceitful smile.
+
+“The storehouse is yours, and the men. Now tell me how 'tis to be
+played.”
+
+“Where does her Royal Highness go each Thursday evening, accompanied by
+her eternal cuirassiers, von Mitter and Scharfenstein?”
+
+“Where but to see her old nurse Elizabeth? But two men will not be
+enough. Von Mitter and Scharfenstein--”
+
+“Will as usual remain at the carriage. But what's to prevent the men
+from gaining entrance by the rear?--carrying off her Highness that way,
+passing through the alley and making off, to be a mile away before the
+cuirassiers even dream of the attempt?”
+
+“After all, I'd rather the duchess.”
+
+“We can not all be kings and queens.” Johann got up and slapped Stuler
+familiarly on the shoulder. “Forget not the gold, the yellow gold;
+little heaps of it to finger, to count, and to spend.”
+
+Stuler's eyes gleamed phosphorescently. There was the strain of the
+ancient marauder in his veins; gold easily gotten. He opened the door,
+and Johann passed out, swaying. The wine was taking hold of him. He
+turned into the hall, while Stuler busied himself with the spigots.
+Some one discovered the spy, and called him by name; it was caught up by
+others, and there were numerous calls for a speech.
+
+As a socialist Johann was well known about the lower town. Besides, five
+years gone, he himself had been a student and a brother of freedom. He
+had fought a dozen successful duels, and finally had been expelled from
+the university for beating a professor who had objected to his conduct
+in the presence of ladies. Other ill reports added to his popularity.
+To be popular in this whimsical world of ours, one has either to be very
+good or very bad. Johann was not unwilling to speak. Stuler had given
+him the cue; the cuirassiers. His advice was secretly to arm and hold
+in readiness. As this was the substance of the other speeches, Johann
+received his meed of applause.
+
+“And let us not forget the bulldog; let us kill him, too,” cried one
+of the auditors; “the prodigal bulldog, who has lived on our fatted
+calves.”
+
+This was unanimously adopted. The bulldog was not understood; and he
+smacked of the English. Then, too, the bulldog roamed too freely in the
+royal enclosures; and, until late years, trespassers fared badly. The
+students considered that their privileges extended everywhere; the dog,
+not being conversant with these privileges, took that side which in law
+is called the benefit of a doubt.
+
+After his speech Johann retired to the bar-room. What he desired most of
+all was a replenished purse. Popular he was; but the students knew his
+failings, among which stood prominently that of a forgetful borrower.
+They would buy him drinks, clothes and food, if need be, but they would
+not lend him a stiver. And he could not borrow from Stuler, whose law
+was only to trust. Johann gambled, and wine always brought back the
+mad fever for play. The night before he had lost rather heavily, and he
+wanted to recover his losses. Rouge-et-noir had pinched him; he would be
+revenged on the roulette. All day long combinations and numbers danced
+before his eyes. He had devised several plans by which to raise money,
+but these had fallen through. Suddenly he smiled, and beckoned to
+Stuler.
+
+“Stuler, how much will you advance me,” he asked, “on a shotgun worth
+one hundred crowns?”
+
+“A shotgun worth one hundred crowns? Ten.”
+
+Johann made a negative gesture. “Fifty or none. You can sell it
+for seventy-five in the morning. So could I, only I want the money
+to-night.”
+
+“If you want wine--” began Stuler.
+
+“I want money.”
+
+Stuler scratched his nose. “Bring the gun to me. If it is worth what you
+say, I'll see what I can do.”
+
+“In an hour;” and Johann went out. A cold thin rain was falling, and a
+dash of it in the face had a cooling effect. Somehow, the exhilaration
+of the wine was gone, and his mood took a sullen turn. Money! he was
+ever in need of money. He cursed his ill luck. He cursed the cause
+of it--drink. But for drink he would not have been plain Johann Kopf,
+brawler, outcast, spy, disowned by his family and all save those who
+could use him. He remained standing in the doorway, brooding.
+
+At last he drew his collar about his throat and struck off, a black
+shadow in a bank of gray. When he reached that part of the street
+opposite the Grand Hotel, he stopped and sought shelter under an awning.
+The night patrol came clattering down the street. It passed quickly, and
+soon all was still again. Johann stepped out and peered up and down. The
+street was deserted. All the hotel windows were in gloom, save a feeble
+light which beamed from the office windows.
+
+Would it be robbery? He had not yet stooped to that. But he could hear
+the ivory ball clatter as it fell into the lucky numbers. He had a
+premonition that he would win if he stuck to a single combination. He
+would redeem the gun, replace it, and no one would be any the wiser.
+If his numbers failed him..... No matter. He determined to cross the
+Rubicon. He traversed the street and disappeared into the cavernous
+alley, shortly to loom up in the deserted courtyard of the hotel. He
+counted the windows on the first floor and stopped at the fourth. That
+was the window he must enter. Noiselessly he crept along the walls,
+stopping now and then to listen. There was no sound except the
+monotonous dripping of the rain, which was growing thinner and colder.
+
+Presently he came across the ladder he was seeking. He raised it to the
+required height, and once more placed his hand to his ear. Silence. He
+mounted the rounds to the window, which he found unfastened. In another
+moment he was in the room. Not an object could he see, so deep was the
+darkness. If he moved without light he was likely to stumble, and heydey
+to his fifty crowns, not to say his liberty for many days to come. He
+carefully drew the blinds and struck a match. The first object which
+met his gaze was a fallen candle. This he lit and when the glare of the
+flame softened, all the corners of the room stood out. Nowhere was there
+any sign of a gun. He gave vent to a half-muttered curse. Some one had
+pilfered the gun, or the proprietor was keeping it until the Englishman
+returned from the duchy. But he remembered that there were two guns, one
+of which the Englishman did not use in the hunting expeditions.
+
+So he began a thorough search. It meant fifty crowns, green baize and
+the whims of fortune. Cautiously he moved between the fallen chairs. He
+looked behind the bed, under the dresser, but without success. His hand
+closed savagely around the candle, and he swore inaudibly. He threw back
+the bed coverings, not that he expected to find anything, but because
+he could vent his rage on these silent, noiseless things. When he lifted
+the mattress it was then he took a deep breath and smiled. What he saw
+was a gun case. He drew it from under. It was heavy; his fifty crowns
+were inside. Next he picked up a candlestick and stuffed the candle into
+it, and laid a quilt against the threshold of the door so that no light
+would pierce the corridor.
+
+“This is the gun the Englishman did not use in the hunting expeditions,”
+ he thought. “If it is out of repair, as he said it was, my fifty crowns
+are not so many pfennige. The devil! it must be a valuable piece of
+gunsmithing, to hide it under the bedclothes. Let me see if my crowns
+are for the picking.”
+
+He investigated forthwith. The hammers and the triggers worked smoothly.
+He unlocked the breech and held the nozzles toward the candle light--and
+again cursed. The barrels were clogged up. Notwithstanding, he plucked
+forth the cleaning-rod and forced it into one of the tubes. There was
+a slight resistance, and something fluttered to the floor and rolled
+about. The second tube was treated likewise, with the same result.
+Johann laughed silently. The fifty crowns were tangible; he could hear
+them jingling in his pocket, and a pretty music they made. He returned
+the leather case to its original place and devoted his attention to the
+cylinder-shaped papers on the floor.
+
+For a quarter of an hour Johann remained seated on the floor, in the
+wavering candle light, forgetful of all save the delicate tracings of
+steel engraving, the red and green inks, the great golden seal, the
+signatures, the immensity of the ciphers which trailed halfway across
+each crackling parchment. He counted sixteen of them in all. Four
+millions of crowns.... He was rich, rich beyond all his wildest dreams.
+
+He rose, and restored the gun to its case. Fifty crowns? No, no! A
+hundred thousand, not a crown less; a hundred thousand! all thoughts of
+the green baize and the rattle of the roulette ball passed away. There
+was no need to seek fortune; she had come to him of her own free will.
+Wine, Gertrude of the opera, Paris and a life of ease; all these were
+his. A hundred thousand crowns, a hundred thousand florins, two hundred
+thousand francs, two hundred thousand marks! He computed in all monetary
+denominations; in all countries it was wealth.
+
+Something rose and swelled in his throat, and he choked hysterically. A
+voice whispered “No, not a hundred thousand; four millions!” But reason,
+though it tottered, regained its balance, and he saw the utter futility
+of attempting to dispose of the orders on the government independently.
+His hands trembled; he could scarcely hold this vast treasure. Twice,
+in his haste to pocket the certificates, they slipped from his grasp
+and scattered. How those six syllables frolicked in his mind! A hundred
+thousand crowns!
+
+He extinguished the candle and laid it on the floor, put the quilt
+on the bed, then climbed through the window, which he closed without
+mishap. He descended the ladder. As he reached the bottom round his
+heart gave a great leap. From the alley came the sound of approaching
+steps. Nearer and nearer they came; a shadow entered the courtyard and
+made straight for the door, which was but a few feet from the reclining
+ladder. The kitchen door opened and the burst of light revealed a
+belated serving maid. A moment passed, and all became dark again. But
+Johann felt a strange weakness in his knees, and a peculiar thrill at
+the roots of his hair. He dared not move for three or four minutes. But
+he waited in vain for other steps. He cursed the serving maid for the
+fright, disposed of the ladder, and sought the street. He directed his
+steps toward Stuler's.
+
+“The pig of an Englishman was deeper than I thought. In the gun barrels,
+the gun barrels! If I had not wanted to play they would have been there
+yet! A hundred thousand crowns!”
+
+It had ceased to rain, and a frost was congealing the moisture under
+foot. On the way back to Stuler's Johann slipped and fell several times;
+but he was impervious to pain, bruises were nothing. He was rich! He
+laughed; and from time to time thrust his hand into his vest to convince
+himself that he was not dreaming. To whom should he sell? To the Osians?
+To the duchess? To the king that was to be? Who would pay quickest the
+hundred thousand crowns? He knew. Aye, two hundred thousand would not be
+too much. The Englishman would send for the certificates, but his agent
+would not find them. The abduction? He would carry it through as he
+had promised. It was five thousand crowns in addition to his hundred
+thousand. He was rich! He shook his hand toward the inky sky, toward
+the palace, toward all that signified the past..... A hundred thousand
+crowns!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. WHAT HAPPENED AT THE ARCHBISHOP'S PALACE AND AFTER
+
+Maurice, as he labored before his mirror, wondered why in the world it
+took him so long to dress. An hour had passed since he began his evening
+toilet; yet here he was, still tinkering, so to speak, over the last
+of a dozen cravats. The eleven others lay strewn about, hopelessly
+crumpled; mute witnesses of angry fingers and impassioned mutterings.
+Usually he could slip into his evening clothes in less than thirty
+minutes. Something was wrong. But perhaps this occasion was not usual.
+
+First, the hems of his trousers were insurgent; they persisted in
+hitching on the tops of his button shoes. Laces were substituted. Then
+came a desultory period, during which gold buttons were exchanged for
+pearl and pearl for gold, and two-button shirts for three-button. For
+Maurice was something of a dandy. He could not imagine what was the
+matter with his neck, all the collars seemed so small. For once his
+mishaps did not appeal to his humor. The ascent from his shoes to his
+collar was as tortuous as that of the alpine Jungfrau.
+
+Ah, Madam, you may smile as much as you please, but it is a terrible
+thing for a man to dress and at the same time think kindly of his
+fellow-beings. You set aside three hours for your toilet, and devote two
+hours to the little curl which droops over the tip of your dainty ear;
+but with a man who has no curl, who knows nothing of the practice of
+smiles and side glances, the studied carelessness of a pose, it is a
+dismal, serious business up to the last moment.
+
+With a final glance into the mirror, and convinced that if he touched
+himself it would be only to disarrange the perfection which he had
+striven so hard to attain, Maurice went down stairs. He had still an
+hour to while away before presenting himself at the archbishop's palace.
+So he roamed about the verandas, twirled his cane, and smoked like a
+captain who expects to see his men in active engagement the very next
+moment. This, together with the bad hour in his room, was an indication
+that his nerves were finely strung.
+
+He was nervous, not because he was to see strange faces, not because his
+interest in the kingdom's affairs was both comic and tragic, nor because
+he was to present himself at the archbishop's in a peculiar capacity,
+that of a prisoner on parole. No, it was due to none of these. His
+pulse did not stir at the prospect of meeting the true king. Diplomatic
+functions were every-day events with him. He had passed several years of
+his life in the vicinity of emperors, kings, viceroys, and presidents,
+and their greatness had long ago ceased to interest or even to amuse
+him. He was conscious only of an agitation which had already passed
+through the process of analysis. He loved, he loved the impossible
+and the unattainable, and it was the exhilaration of this thought that
+agitated him. He never would be the same again--he would be better.
+Neither did he regret this love.
+
+Even now he could see himself back in his rooms in Vienna, smoking
+before the fire, and building castles that tumbled down. It was worth
+while, if only to have something to dream about. He did not regret the
+love, he regretted its futility. How could he serve her? What could he
+do against all these unseen forces which were crumbling her father's
+throne? So she remembered what he had said to her in the archbishop's
+garden? He looked at his watch. It was nine.
+
+“Let us be off,” he said. He started for the Platz. “How uncertain life
+is. It seems that I did not come to Bleiberg carelessly in the way of
+amusement, but to work out a part of my destiny.” He arrested his steps
+at the fountain and listened to the low, musical plash of the water,
+each drop of which fell with the light of a dazzling jewel. The cold
+stars shone from above. They were not farther away than she. A princess,
+a lonely and forlorn princess, hemmed in by the fabric of royal laws; a
+princess yet possessing less liberty than the meanest of her peasants.
+Nothing belonged to her, not even her heart, which was merchandise, a
+commodity of exchange, turned over to the highest bidder. “Royalty,” he
+mused, “is a political slave-dealer; the slaves are those who wear the
+crowns.”
+
+Once inside the palace, he became a man of the world, polished,
+nonchalant, handsome, and mildly curious. Immediately after the usher
+announced his name, he crossed the chamber and presented his respects to
+the prelate, who, he reasoned not unwisely, expected him. The friendly
+greeting of the archbishop confirmed this reasoning.
+
+“I am delighted to see you, Monsieur,” he said, showing his remarkably
+well preserved teeth in the smile that followed his words. “A service
+to her Royal Highness is a service to me. Amuse yourself; you will find
+some fine paintings in the west gallery.”
+
+“I trust her Royal Highness is none the worse for the fright,” Maurice
+replied. He also remarked (mentally) that he did not see her Highness
+anywhere. Several introductions followed, and he found himself chatting
+with the British minister.
+
+“Carewe?” the Englishman repeated thoughtfully. “Are you not Maurice
+Carewe, of the American Legation in Vienna?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“May I ask you a few questions?”
+
+“A thousand.”
+
+“A fellow-countryman of mine has mysteriously disappeared. He left
+Vienna for Bleiberg, saying that if nothing was heard of him within a
+week's time, to make inquiries about him. This request was left with
+the British ambassador, who has just written me, adding that a personal
+friend of the gentleman in question was in Bleiberg, and that this
+friend was Maurice Carewe, attache to the American Legation. Are you
+acquainted with Lord Fitzgerald, son of my late predecessor?”
+
+“I am indeed. I saw him in Vienna,” said Maurice; “but he said nothing
+to me about coming here,” which was true enough. “Is there any cause for
+apprehension?”
+
+“Only his request to be looked up within a certain time. The truth is,
+he was to have come here on a peculiar errand,” with lowered voice. “Did
+you ever hear of what is called 'Fitzgerald's folly?'”
+
+“Yes; few haven't heard of it.” Maurice could never understand why he
+resisted the impulse to tell the whole affair. A dozen words to the man
+at his side, and the catastrophes, even embryonic, would be averted.
+“You must tell me who most of these people are,” he said, in order to
+get around a disagreeable subject. “I am a total stranger.”
+
+“With pleasure. That tall, angular old man, in the long, gray frock,
+with decorations, is Marshal Kampf. You must meet him; he is the
+wittiest man in Bleiberg. The gentleman with the red beard is Mollendorf
+of the police. And beside him--yes, the little man with glasses and a
+loose cravat--is Count von Wallenstein, the minister of finance. That
+is the chancellor talking to the archbishop. Ah, Mr. Carewe, these
+receptions are fine comedies. The Marshal, the count and Mollendorf
+represent what is called the Auersperg faction under the rose. It is a
+continual battle of eyes and tongues. One smiles at his enemy, knows him
+to be an enemy, yet dares not touch him.
+
+“Confidentially, this play has never had the like. To convict his
+enemies of treason has been for ten years the labor of the chancellor;
+yet, though he knows them to be in correspondence with the duchess,
+he can find nothing on the strength of which to accuse openly. It is a
+conspiracy which has no papers. One can not take out a man's brains and
+say, `Here is proof!' They talk, they walk on thin ice; but so fine
+is their craft that no incautious word ever falls, nor does any one go
+through the ice.
+
+“I have watched the play for ten years. I should not speak to you about
+it, only it is one of those things known to all here. Those gentlemen
+talking to the chancellor's wife are the ministers from Austria,
+Prussia, France, and Servia. You will not find it as lively here as it
+is in Vienna. We meet merely to watch each other,” with a short laugh.
+“Good. The Marshal is approaching.”
+
+They waited.
+
+“Marshal,” said the minister, “this is Monsieur Carewe, who rescued her
+Highness's dog from the students.”
+
+“Ah!” replied the Marshal, grimly. “Do not expect me to thank you,
+Monsieur; only day before yesterday the dog snapped at my legs. I am
+living out of pure spite, to see that dog die before I do. Peace to his
+ashes--the sooner the better.”
+
+The minister turned to Maurice and laughed.
+
+“Eh!” said the Marshal.
+
+“I prophesied that you would speak disparagingly of the dog.”
+
+“What a reputation!” cried the old soldier. “I dare say that you have
+been telling Monsieur Carewe that I am a wit. Monsieur, never attempt
+to be witty; they will put you down for a wit, and laugh at anything you
+say, even when you put yourself out to speak the truth. If I possess any
+wit it is like young grapes--sour. You are connected in Vienna?”
+
+“With the American Legation.”
+
+“Happy is the country,” said the Marshal, “which is so far away that
+Europe can find no excuse to meddle with it.”
+
+“And even then Europe would not dare,” Maurice replied, with
+impertinence aforethought.
+
+“That is not a diplomatic speech.”
+
+“It is true.”
+
+“I like your frankness.”
+
+“Let that go toward making amends for saving the dog.”
+
+“Are all American diplomats so frank?” inquired the Marshal, with an air
+of feigned wonder.
+
+“Indeed, no,” answered Maurice. “Just at present I am not in a
+diplomatic capacity; I need not look askance at truth. And there is no
+reason why we should not always be truthful.”
+
+“You are wrong. It's truth's infrequency which makes her so charming and
+refreshing. However, I thank you for your services to her Highness; your
+services to her dog I shall try to forget.” And with this the Marshal
+moved away, shaking his head as if he had inadvertently stumbled on an
+intricate problem.
+
+Not long after, Maurice was left to his own devices. He viewed the
+scene, silent and curious. Conversation was carried on in low tones,
+and laughter was infrequent and subdued. The women dressed without
+ostentation. There were no fair arms and necks. Indeed, these belong
+wholly to youth, and youth was not a factor at the archbishop's
+receptions. Most of the men were old and bald, and only the wives of the
+French and British ministers were pretty or young. How different from
+Vienna, where youth and beauty abound! There were no music, no long
+tables of refreshments, no sparkling wines, no smoking-room, good
+stories and better fellowship. There was an absence of the flash of
+jewels and color which make court life attractive.
+
+There seemed to be hanging in the air some invisible power, the forecast
+of a tragedy, the beginning of an unknown end. And yet the prelate
+smiled on enemies and friends alike. As Maurice observed that smile he
+grew perplexed. It was a smile such as he had seen on the faces of men
+who, about to die, felt the grim satisfaction of having an enemy for
+company. The king lay on his death bed, in all probabilities the throne
+tottered; yet the archbishop smiled.
+
+The princess did not know that her father was dying; this was a secret
+which had not yet been divulged to her. And this was the only society
+she knew. Small wonder that she was sad and lonely. To be young, and to
+find one's self surrounded by the relics of youth; what an existence!
+She had never known the beauty of a glittering ballroom, felt the music
+of a waltz mingle with the quick throbs of the heart, the pleasure
+of bestowing pleasure. She had never read the mute yet intelligent
+admiration in a young man's eyes. And what young woman does not yearn
+for the honest adoration of an honest man? Poor, lonely princess indeed.
+For, loving the world as he himself did, Maurice understood what was
+slipping past her. Every moment the roots of love were sinking deeper
+into his heart and twining firmly about, as a vine to a trellis.
+
+Is there a mental telegraphy, an indefinable substance which is affected
+by the close proximity of a presence, which, while we do not see,
+we feel? Perhaps; at any rate, Maurice suddenly became aware of that
+peculiar yet now familiar agitation of his nerves. Instinctively he
+turned his head. In the doorway which separated the chamber from the
+conservatory stood her Royal Highness. She was dressed entirely in
+black, which accentuated the whiteness--the Carrara marble whiteness--of
+her exquisite skin. In the dark, shining coils swept back from her brow
+lay the subtle snare of a red rose. There was no other color except on
+the full lips. She saw Maurice, but she was so far away that the faint
+reflection of the rose on her cheeks was gone before he reached her
+side.
+
+“I was afraid,” she said, lowering her eyes as she uttered the fib,
+“that you would not come after all.”
+
+“It would have been impossible for me to stay away,” he replied, his
+eyes ardent. The princess looked away. “And may I ask after the health
+of the dog?”
+
+“Thanks to you, Monsieur; he is getting along finely. Poor dog; he
+will always limp. What is it that makes men inflict injuries on dumb
+creatures?”
+
+“It is the beast that is envious of the brute.”
+
+“And your hand?” with a glance sympathetic and inquiring.
+
+“My hand?”
+
+“Yes; did you not injure it?”
+
+“O!” He laughed and held out two gloved hands for her inspection. “That
+was only a scratch. In fact, I do not remember which hand it was.”
+
+“You are very modest. I should have made much of it.”
+
+He could not translate this; so he said: “There was nothing injured but
+my hat. I seem unfortunate in that direction.”
+
+She smiled, recalling the incident in the archbishop's garden.
+
+“I shall keep the hat, however,” he said, “as a souvenir.”
+
+“Souvenirs, Monsieur,” she replied carelessly, “and old age are
+synonymous. You and I ought not to have any souvenirs. Have you seen
+the picture gallery? No? Then I shall have the pleasure of showing it
+to you. Monseigneur is very proud of his gallery. He has a Leonardo, a
+Botticelli, a Murillo, and a Rembrandt. And they really show better in
+artificial light, which softens the effect of time.”
+
+Half an hour was passed in the gallery. It was very pleasant to
+listen to her voice as she described this and that painting, and the
+archbishop's adventures in securing them. It did not seem possible to
+him that she was a princess, perhaps destined to become a queen, so free
+was she from the attributes of royalty, so natural and ingenuous. He
+caught each movement of her delicate head, each gesture of her hand, the
+countless inflections of her voice, the lights which burned or died away
+in the dark wine of her eyes.
+
+Poor devil! he mused, himself in mind; poor fool! He forgot the world,
+he forgot that he was a prisoner on parole, he forgot the strife between
+the kingdom and the duchy, he forgot everything but the wild impossible
+love which filled his senses. He forgot even Prince Frederick of
+Carnavia.
+
+In truth, the world was “a sorry scheme of things.” It was grotesque
+with inequalities. He had no right to love her; it was wrong to give
+in to the impulses of the heart, the natural, human impulses. A man can
+beat down the stone walls of a fort, scale the impregnable heights of
+a citadel, master the earth and the seas, but he can not surmount
+the invisible barriers which he himself erected in the past ages--the
+quality of birth. Ah! if only she had been a peasant, unlettered and
+unknown, and free to be won! The tasks of Hercules were then but play to
+him!
+
+Next she led him through the aisles of potted plants in the
+conservatory. She was very learned. She explained the origin of each
+flower, its native soil, the time and manner of its transportation.
+Perhaps she was surprised at his lack of botanical knowledge, he asked
+so many questions. But it was not the flowers, it was her voice, which
+urged him to these interrogations.
+
+They were on the point of re-entering the reception chamber, when the
+jingle of a spur on the mosaic floor caused them to turn. Maurice could
+not control the start; he had forgotten all about Beauvais. The soldier
+wore the regulation full dress of the cuirassiers, white trousers,
+tucked into patent leather half-boots, a gray jacket with gold lace and
+decorations, red saber straps and a gray pelisse hanging from the left
+shoulder. A splendid soldier, Maurice grudgingly admitted. What would
+the Colonel say? The situation was humorous rather than otherwise, and
+Maurice smiled.
+
+“I was looking for your Highness,” said Beauvais, as he came up, “to
+pay my respects. I am leaving.” His glance at Maurice was one of polite
+curiosity.
+
+“Colonel Beauvais,” said the princess, coldly, “Monsieur Carewe, of the
+American Legation in Vienna.”
+
+She was not looking at the Colonel, but Maurice was, and the Colonel's
+total lack of surprise astonished him. The gaze of the two men plunged
+into each other's eyes like flashes of lightning, but that was all.
+
+“I am charmed,” said the Colonel, a half-ironical smile under his
+mustache. “Your name is not unfamiliar to me.”
+
+“No?” said Maurice, with studied politeness.
+
+“No. It is connected with an exploit. Was it not you who faced the
+students this afternoon and rescued her Highness's dog?”
+
+“Ah!” said Maurice, in a tone which implied that exploits were every
+day events with him; “it was but a simple thing to do. The students were
+like so many sheep.”
+
+The princess elevated her brows; she felt an undercurrent of something
+which she did not understand. Indeed, she did not like the manner in
+which the two men eyed each other. Her glance passed from the stalwart
+soldier to the slim, athletic form of the civilian.
+
+Conversation drifted aimlessly. Maurice had the malice to cast the brunt
+of it on the Colonel's shoulders. The princess, like a rose coming in
+contact with a chill air, drew within herself. She was cold, brief, and
+serenely indifferent. It was evident to Maurice that she had resumed her
+royal mantle, and that she had shown him unusual consideration.
+
+Presently she raised her hand to her head, as sometimes one will do
+unconsciously, and the rose slipped from her hair and dropped to the
+floor. Both men stooped. Maurice was quickest. With a bow he offered to
+return it.
+
+“You may keep it, Monsieur;” and she laughed.
+
+They joined her. Maurice knew why the Colonel laughed, and the Colonel
+knew why Maurice laughed; but neither could account for the laughter of
+the princess. That was her secret.
+
+All things come to an end, even diplomatic receptions. Soon the guests
+began to leave.
+
+Said the princess to Maurice: “Your invitation is a standing one,
+Monsieur. To our friends there are no formalities. Good night; ah, yes,
+the English fashion,” extending her hand, which Maurice barely touched.
+“Good night, Monsieur,” to Beauvais, with one of those nods which wither
+as effectually as frost.
+
+The Colonel bent gracefully.
+
+“Decidedly the Colonel is not in high favor tonight,” thought Maurice;
+“a fact which is eminently satisfactory to me. Ah; he looks as if he had
+something to say to me. Let us wait.”
+
+“Monsieur, have you any other engagement this evening?” asked Beauvais,
+swinging his pelisse over both shoulders. “If not, my rooms are quite
+handy. I have capital cigars and cognacs. Will you do me the honor? I
+should like to have you regale me with some Vienna gossip; it is so long
+since I was there.”
+
+“Thanks,” said Maurice. “I shall be happy to smoke your cigars and drink
+your cognacs.” He was in the mood for any adventure, comic or serious.
+He had an idea what the Colonel wanted to say to him, and he was not
+unwilling to listen. Besides, he had no fear; he now wore an amulet
+close to his heart.
+
+“Come, then,” said Beauvais, gaily; and the two made off. “It is a
+wonderful game of chess, this world of ours.”
+
+“Yes,” said Maurice, “we do keep moving.”
+
+“And every now and then one or the other of us steps out into the dark.”
+
+“So we do.” Maurice glanced from the corner of his eye and calculated
+his chances in a physical contest with the Colonel. The soldier was
+taller and broader, but it was possible for him to make good this
+deficiency with quickness. But, above all, where and under what
+circumstances had he met this man before?
+
+“Here we are!” cried the Colonel, presently.
+
+He led Maurice into one of the handsome dwellings which faced the palace
+confines from the east. They passed up the stairs into a large room,
+Oriental in its appointments, and evidently the living room. The walls
+were hung with the paraphernalia of a soldier, together with portraits
+of opera singers, horses and celebrities of all classes. On the mantel
+Maurice saw, among other things, the glint of a revolver barrel. He
+thought nothing of it then. It occurred to him as singular, however,
+that the room was free from central obstruction. Had the Colonel
+expected to meet him at the archbishop's and anticipated his acceptance
+of a possible invitation?
+
+Two chairs stood on either side of the grate. Between them was an
+octagon on which were cigars, glasses and two cognac bottles. The
+Colonel's valet came in and lit the tapers in the chandelier and woke
+up the fire.... Maurice was convinced that the Colonel had arranged the
+room thus for his especial benefit, and he regretted his eagerness for
+adventure.
+
+“Francois,” said Beauvais, throwing his shako and pelisse on the lounge
+and motioning to Maurice to do likewise, “let no one disturb us.”
+
+The valet bowed and noiselessly retired. The two men sat down without
+speaking. Beauvais passed the cigars. Maurice selected one, lit it, and
+blew rings at the Chinese mandarin which leered down at him from the
+mantel.
+
+Several minutes marched into the past.
+
+“Maurice Carewe,” said the Colonel, as one who mused.
+
+“It is very droll,” said Maurice.
+
+“I can not say that it strikes me as droll, though I am not deficient in
+the sense of humor.”
+
+“'Twould be a pity if you were; you would miss so much. Through humor
+philosophy reaches its culmination; humor is the foundation upon which
+the palace of reason erects itself. The two are inseparable.”
+
+“How came you to be mixed up in this affair, which is no concern of
+yours?”
+
+“That question is respectfully referred to Madame the duchess. I was
+thrown into it, head foremost, bound hand and foot. It was a clever
+stroke, though eventually it will embarrass her.”
+
+“You may give me the certificates,” said Beauvais.
+
+Maurice contemplated him serenely. “Impossible,” with a fillip at the
+end of his cigar.
+
+“You refuse?” coldly.
+
+“I do not refuse. Simply, I haven't got them.”
+
+“What!” The Colonel half sprang from his chair.
+
+His astonishment was genuine; Maurice saw that it was, and he reflected.
+Madame nor Fitzgerald had been dishonest with him.
+
+“No. Some one has forestalled me.”
+
+“Are you lying to me?” menacingly.
+
+“And if I were?” coolly.
+
+Beauvais measured his antagonist, his eyes hard and contemptuous.
+
+“I repeat,” said Maurice, “the situation is exceedingly droll. I am not
+afraid of you, not a bit. I am not a man to be intimidated. You might
+have inferred as much by my willingness to accompany you here. I am
+alone with you.”
+
+“It is true that you are alone with me,” in a voice, which, though it
+did not alarm Maurice, caused him to rest less comfortably in his chair.
+“In the first place, you know too much.”
+
+“The knowledge was not of my own seeking. You will agree with me in
+that.” He took a swallow of the cognac. “However, since I am in the
+affair--”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“I'll see it to its end.”
+
+“Perhaps. We shall not cross purposes. When men plot as I do, they stop
+at nothing, not even at that infinitesimal minutiae called the spark of
+life. It becomes a matter of self-preservation. I am in too deep water;
+I must keep on. I can not now turn back; the first shore is too far
+away.”
+
+“Even villainy has its inconveniences,” Maurice observed.
+
+“What do you call villainy?”
+
+“An act in which a man accepts pay from one to ruin him for another.
+That is villainy, without a single saving grace, for you are a native
+neither of the kingdom nor the duchy.”
+
+“That is plain language. You do not take into consideration the
+villain's motives. There may be certain ends necessary as his life's
+blood, which may be gained only by villainy, which, after all, is a hard
+name for political conspiracy.”
+
+“Oh, I do not suppose you are worse than the majority. But it appeals
+to me as rather a small, unmanly game when your victims are a man who is
+dying and a girl who knows nothing of the world nor its treachery.”
+
+An almost imperceptible smile passed over Beauvais's countenance. “So
+her Highness has captured your sympathies?” with a shade of banter.
+
+“I admit that; she would capture the sympathies of any man who has a
+good pair of eyes in his head. But you do not seem to be in favor just
+at present,” banter for banter.
+
+The Colonel studied the end of his cigar. “What is to be your stand in
+this affair?”
+
+“Neutral as possible, for the simple reason that I have passed my word
+to Madame; compulsorily, it is true; I shall abide by it. That is not
+to say that my sympathies are not wholly with the Osians. Madame is a
+brilliant woman, resourceful, initiative; she has as many sides as a cut
+diamond; moreover, her cause is just. But I do not like the way she has
+gone about the recovery of her throne. She has broken, or will break, a
+fine honest heart; she tried to break another, but, not being above
+the pantry maid, the subject of her attention failed to appreciate the
+consideration.”
+
+Beauvais laughed at this. “You are very good company. Let me advise you
+to remain neutral. I wish you no harm. But if you change your mind and
+stand in my path--”
+
+“Well, and if I stood in your path?”
+
+“Pouf! you would vanish. O, I should not stoop to murder; that is a
+vulgar word and practice. I should place a sword in your hand and give
+you the preference of a gentleman's death. I see nothing to prevent me
+from carrying out that this very night,” with a nod toward the rapiers
+which hung from the opposite wall.
+
+“You might be surprised at the result,” said Maurice, stretching his
+legs. “But at present I have no desire to quarrel with you, or to put
+your skill to a test. Once Madame gives me back my word, why, I do not
+say.” He dipped his hand toward the ash-pan. “Human nature is full of
+freaks. A man will commit all sorts of crimes, yet stand by his word.
+Not that I have committed any crimes against the ten commandments.”
+
+And so they fenced.
+
+“You picked up a rose to-night,” said the Colonel.
+
+“So I did.” Maurice blew a puff of smoke into the chimneyplace and
+watched it sail upward and vanish. “Moreover, I propose to keep it. Have
+you any objections?”
+
+“Only this: her Highness intended the rose for me.”
+
+“No, no, my friend,” easily. “She would not have laughed had you picked
+it up.”
+
+“That is to say I lie?”
+
+“It is,” laconically.
+
+There was no eluding a statement so bald as this. Beauvais sat upright.
+“To call me a liar is a privilege which I extend to no man.”
+
+“I did not call you a liar,” undisturbed. “You wrote it down yourself,
+and I simply agreed to it. A duel? Well, I shall not fight you. Dueling
+is obsolete, and it never demonstrated the right or wrong of a cause.
+Since my part in this affair is one of neutrality, and since to gain
+that knowledge was the object of your invitation, I will take my leave
+of you.”
+
+He rose and looked at the porcelain clock. As he did so his gaze rested
+on a small photograph standing at the side of it. He scanned it eagerly.
+It was a face of dark Castilian beauty. He turned and looked at Beauvais
+long and earnestly. There was an answering gaze, an immobility of
+countenance. Maurice experienced a slight shock. The haze over his
+memory was dispersed. The whole scene, in which this man loomed in the
+foreground, came back vividly.
+
+“Your stare, Monsieur, is annoying.”
+
+“I shouldn't wonder,” replied Maurice, leaning against the mantel.
+
+“Do me the honor to explain it.”
+
+Maurice, never dreaming of the trap, fell head foremost into it. “I have
+traveled a good deal,” he began. “I have been--even to South America.”
+
+“Ah!” This ejaculation expressed nothing. In fact, Beavais was smiling.
+There was a sinister something behind that smile, but Maurice was
+unobservant.
+
+He went on. “Yes, to South America. I was there in a diplomatic
+capacity, during one of the many revolutions. This country was the
+paradise of adventurers, the riff-raff of continental social outcasts.
+I distinctly remember the leader of this revolution. Up to the very last
+day, Captain Urquijo was the confidential friend of the president whom
+he was about to ruin. Through the president's beautiful daughter Urquijo
+picked up his threads and laid his powder train. The woman loved him as
+women sometimes love rascals. The president was to be assassinated
+and his rival installed. Captain Urquijo was to be made General of the
+armies.
+
+“One fine day the troops lined both sides of the plaza, the square
+also about which lay the government buildings. It was the event of some
+celebration; I believe the throwing off of the yoke of Spain. The
+city flocked into the plaza. Strangely enough, those who were
+disaffected--the soldiers under Urquijo--faced the loyal troops. By
+a preconceived plan, the artillery was under the command of Urquijo.
+Suddenly this Captain's murderous and traitorous guns swept the plaza,
+mangling women and children. There was a flaw, however, in the stroke.
+Urquijo fled, a reward posted for his head--mind you, his head; they did
+not want him alive.
+
+“The daughter expiates her foolish love in a convent. Her disgraces
+proved too much for her father, who blew out his brains. The successor
+secured extradition papers in all the leading capitals of the world. The
+story was the sensation of the day; the newspapers made much of it. All
+governments offered to assist the republic in hounding down this rascal.
+To whatever country he belonged, that country promised to disown him.”
+
+Maurice took the photograph and cast it into Beauvais's lap. “Do
+you recognize that face? Is it not a mute accusation to your warped
+conscience?” The voice, changing from the monotone of narrative, grew
+strong and contemptuous. “I know you. I recognized you the moment I laid
+eyes on you, only I could not place you. Perhaps it was because it
+did not seem possible that you would dare show your face to civilized
+people. That photograph has done its work. By the Lord, but you're a
+fine rascal! Not a bit changed. Have you forgotten your Spanish? As God
+hears me, I shall hold you up.”
+
+“You are a very young man,” said Beauvais, rising. He was still smiling.
+“Do you know why I asked you here? For this very reason. Madame divined
+you well. She said that you had a dash of what romanticists call valor,
+but that you never saw an inch before your nose. I knew that you would
+be at the archbishop's; I knew that you would follow me to this room.
+Indeed, you might have suspected as much by the unusual arrangement of
+the fixtures of the room. I placed that photograph there, trusting to
+your rather acute eyesight.
+
+“My memory seems to be better than yours. I knew you the first time
+I saw you in Bleiborg. I was waiting only to see how much you had
+remembered. I am not Colonel Beauvais; I am not Urquijo; I am the last
+of a noble Austrian house, in exile, but on the eve of recall. Your
+knowledge would, of course, be disastrous to my ambitions. That is why
+I wanted to find out how much you know. You know too much, too much by
+half; and since you have walked into the lion's den, you shall never
+leave it alive.” With this he sprang to the wall and tore down the
+rapiers, one of which he flung at Maurice's feet.
+
+Maurice felt the hand of paralysis on his nerves. He looked at the
+rapier, then at Beauvais, dazed and incapable of movement. It had been
+so sudden.
+
+“And when they find you in some alley in the lower town they will put
+it down to thieves. You are young and thoughtless,” Beauvais went on
+banteringly. “A little discretion and you might have gone with a whole
+skin. We never forget a woman's face, and I knew that you would not
+forget hers. Don't trouble yourself about leaping through the windows;
+the fall will kill you less effectually than I shall.”
+
+Maurice pulled himself together. The prospect of death brought back
+lucidity of mind. He at once saw the hopelessness of his position. He
+cursed his lack of forethought. He became pale and furious, but his
+head cleared. His life hung in the balance. He now translated Beauvais's
+smile.
+
+“So you wish to add another to the list?” he said.
+
+“To shield one crime, a man must commit many others. O, this will not be
+murder. It will be a duel, in which you will have no chance. Pick up the
+sword, if only for form's sake.” Beauvais caught the wrist thong of the
+rapier between his teeth and rapidly divested himself of his jacket and
+saber straps. With his back toward the door, he rolled up his sleeve and
+discovered a formidable forearm. He tried the blade and thrust several
+times into the air.
+
+“What promise have I,” said Maurice, “that you will not run me through
+when I stoop for the sword?” This question did not serve.
+
+Beauvais laughed. “I never get angry in moments like these. I am giving
+you a sword to ease my conscience. I do not assassinate boys.”
+
+“But supposing I should kill you by chance?”
+
+Beauvais laughed again. “That is not possible.”
+
+Maurice had faced death before, but with more confidence. The thought
+that he had poked his head into a trap stirred him disagreeably. He saw
+that Beauvais possessed a superabundance of confidence, and confidence
+is half of any battle. He picked up the sword and held it between his
+knees, while he threw off his coat and vest, and unbuttoned his collar
+and cuffs. What he had to sell would be sold as dearly as possible. He
+tested the blade, took in a deep breath, fell easily into position--and
+waited.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. SOME PASSAGES AT ARMS
+
+There comes a moment to every man, who faces an imminent danger, when
+the mental vision expands and he sees beyond. By this transient gift of
+prescience he knows what the end will be, whether he is to live or die.
+As Maurice looked into the merciless eyes of his enemy, a dim knowledge
+came to him that this was to be an event and not a catastrophe, a
+fragment of a picture yet to be fully drawn. His confidence and courage
+returned. He thanked God, however, that the light above equalized their
+positions, and that the shadows were behind them.
+
+The swords came together with a click light but ominous. Immediately
+Beauvais stepped back, suddenly threw forward his body, and delivered
+three rapid thrusts. Maurice met them firmly, giving none.
+
+“Ah!” cried Beauvais; “that is good. You know a little. There will be
+sport, besides.”
+
+Maurice shut his lips the tighter, and worked purely on the defensive.
+His fencing master had taught him two things, silence and watchfulness.
+While Beauvais made use of his forearm, Maurice as yet depended solely
+on his wrist. Once they came together, guard to guard, neither daring
+to break away until by mutual agreement, spoken only by the eyes, both
+leaped backward out of reach. There was no sound save the quick light
+stamp of feet and the angry murmur of steel scraping against steel.
+Sometimes they moved circlewise, with free blades, waiting and watching.
+Up to now Beauvais's play had been by the book, so to speak, and he
+began to see that his opponent was well read.
+
+“Which side is the pretty rose?” seeking to distract Maurice. “Tell me,
+and I will pin it to you.”
+
+Not a muscle moved in Maurice's face.
+
+“It is too, bad,” went on Beauvais, “that her Highness finds a lover
+only to lose him. You fool! I read your eyes when you picked up that
+rose. Princesses are not for such as you. I will find her a lover, it
+will be neither you nor Prince Frederick--ah! you caught that nicely.
+But you depend too much on the wrist. Presently it will tire; and
+then--pouf!”
+
+Now and then a a flame, darting from the grate, sparkled on the polished
+steel, and from the steel it shot into the watchful eyes. A quarter
+of an hour passed; still Maurice remained on the defensive. At first
+Beauvais misunderstood the reason, and thought Maurice did not dare run
+the risk of passing from defensive to offensive. But by and by the froth
+of impatience crept into his veins. He could not penetrate above or
+below that defense. The man before him was of marble, with a wrist of
+iron; he neither smiled nor spoke, there was no sign of life at all,
+except in the agile legs, the wrist, and eyes. The Colonel decided to
+change his tactics.
+
+“When I have killed you,” he said, “I shall search your pockets, for
+I know that you lie when you say that you have not those certificates.
+Madame was a fool to send you. No man lives who may be trusted. And what
+is your game? Save the Osians? Small good it will do you. Her Highness
+will wed Prince Frederick--mayhap--and all you will get is cold thanks.
+And in such an event, have you reckoned on Madame the duchess? War! And
+who will win? Madame; for she has not only her own army, but mine. Come,
+come! Speak, for when you leave this room your voice will be silent.
+Make use of the gift, since it is about to leave you.”
+
+The reply was a sudden straightening of the arm. The blade slipped in
+between the Colonel's forearm and body, and was out again before the
+soldier fully comprehended what had happened. Maurice permitted a cold
+smile to soften the rigidity of his face. Beauvais saw the smile, and
+read it. The thrust had been rendered harmless intentionally. An inch
+nearer, and he had been a dead man. To accomplish such a delicate piece
+of sword play required nothing short of mastery. Beauvais experienced a
+disagreeable chill, which was not unmixed with chagrin. The boy had held
+his life in his hand, and had spared it. He set his teeth, and let loose
+with a fury before which nothing could stand; and Maurice was forced
+back step by step until he was almost up with the wall.
+
+“You damned fool!” the Colonel snarled, “you'll never get that chance
+again.”
+
+For the next few minutes it took all the splendid defense Maurice
+possessed to keep the spark in his body. The Colonel's sword was no
+longer a sword, it was a flame; which circled, darted, hissed and
+writhed. Twice Maurice felt the bite of it, once in the arm and again in
+the thigh. These were not deep, but they told him that the end was but
+a short way off. He had no match for this brilliant assault. Something
+must be done, and that at once. He did not desire the Colonel's death,
+and the possibility of accomplishing this was now extremely doubtful.
+But he wanted to live. Life was just beginning--the rough road had
+been left behind. He was choosing between his life and the Colonel's.
+Beauvais, after the fashion of the old masters, was playing for the
+throat. This upward thrusting, when continuous, is difficult to meet,
+and Maurice saw that sooner or later the blade would reach home. If not
+sudden death, it meant speechlessness, and death as a finality. Then the
+voice of his guardian angel spoke.
+
+“I do not wish your life,” he said, breaking the silence, “but at the
+same time I wish to live--ah!” Maurice leaped back just in time. As it
+was, the point of his enemy's blade scratched his chin.
+
+They broke and circled. The Colonel feinted. Maurice, with his elbow
+against his side and his forearm extended, waited. Again the Colonel
+lunged for the throat. This time, instead of meeting it in tierce,
+Maurice threw his whole force forward in such a manner as to bring
+the steel guard of his rapier full on the Colonel's point. There was a
+ringing sound of snapping steel, and the Colonel stood with nothing but
+a stump in his grasp.
+
+“There you are,” said Maurice, a heat-flash passing over him. Had he
+swerved a hair's breadth from the line, time would have tacked finis to
+the tale. “Now, I am perfectly willing to talk,” putting his point to
+the Colonel's breast. “It would inconvenience me to kill you, but do not
+count too much on that.”
+
+“Damn you!” cried the Colonel, giving way, his face yellow with rage,
+chagrin and fear. “Kill me, for I swear to God that one or the other of
+us must die! Damn you and your meddling nose!”
+
+“Damn away, chevalier d'industrie; damn away. But live, live, live! That
+will be the keenest punishment. Live! O, my brave killer of boys,
+you thought to play with me as a cat with a mouse, eh? Eh, Captain
+Urquijo-Beauvais-and-What-is-your-name?” He pressed the point here,
+there, everywhere. “You were too confident. Pardon me if I appear to
+brag, but I have taken lessons of the best fencing masters in Europe,
+and three times, while you devoted your talents to monologues, I could
+have pinned you like one of those butterflies on the wall there. Have
+you ever heard of the sword of Damocles? Well, well; it hangs over many
+a head to-day. I will be yours. I give you forty-eight hours to arrange
+your personal affairs. If after that time you are still in this part
+of the country, I shall inform the proper authorities in Vienna. The
+republic has representation there. Of a noble Austrian house, on the eve
+of recall? I think not.”
+
+Beauvais made a desperate attempt to clutch the blade in his hands.
+
+“No, no!” laughed Maurice, making rapid prods which caused Beauvais to
+wince. “Now, back; farther, farther. I do not like the idea of having my
+back to the door.”
+
+Beauvais suddenly wheeled and dashed for the mantel. But as he
+endeavored to lay hand on the revolver Maurice brought down the blade on
+the Colonel's knuckles, leaving a livid welt. Maurice took possession
+of the weapon, while a grimace of agony shot over the Colonel's face.
+Seeing that the chambers were loaded, Maurice threw down the sword.
+
+“Well, well!” he said, cocking the weapon. “And I saw it when I entered
+the room. It would have saved a good deal of trouble.” Beauvais grew
+white. “O,” Maurice continued, “I am not going to shoot you. I wish
+merely to call your valet.” He aimed at the grate and pressed the
+trigger, and the report, vibrating within the four walls, was deafening.
+
+A moment passed, and the valet, with bulging eyes and blanched face,
+peered in. Seeing how matters stood, he made as though to retreat.
+
+Maurice leveled the smoking revolver. “Come in, Francois; your master
+will have need of you.”
+
+Francois complied, vertigo in his limbs. “My God!” he cried, wringing
+his hands.
+
+“Your master tried to murder me,” said Maurice. Francois had heard
+voices like this before, and it conveyed to him that a fine quality of
+anger lay close to the surface. “Take down yonder window curtain cord.”
+ Francois did so. “Now bind your master's hands with it.”
+
+“Francois,” cried the Colonel, “if you so much as lay a finger on me,
+I'll kill you.”
+
+“Francois, I will kill you if you don't,” said Maurice.
+
+“My God!” wailed the valet at loss which to obey when to obey either
+meant death. His teeth chattered.
+
+“You may have all the time you want, Francois, to wring your hands when
+I am gone. Come; to work. Colonel, submit. I'm in a hurry and have no
+time to spare. While I do not desire to kill you, self-preservation will
+force me to put a bullet into your hide, which will make you an inmate
+of the city hospital. Bind his hands behind his back, and no more
+nonsense.”
+
+“Monsieur,” appealingly to Beauvais, “my God, I am forced. He will kill
+me!”
+
+“So will I,” grimly; “by God, I will!” Beauvais had a plan. If he could
+keep Maurice long enough, help might arrive. And he had an excellent
+story to tell. Still Francois doddered. With his eye on the Colonel and
+the revolver sighted, Maurice picked up the sword. He gave Francois a
+vigorous prod. Francois needed no further inducement. He started forward
+with alacrity. In the wink of an eye he threw the cord around Beauvais's
+arms and pinned them to his sides. Beauvais swore, but the valet was
+strong in his fright. He struggled and wound and knotted and tied,
+murmuring his pitiful “Mon Dieu!” the while, till the Colonel was the
+central figure of a Gordian knot.
+
+“That will do,” said Maurice. “Now, Francois, good and faithful servant,
+take your master over to the lounge, and sit down beside him until I get
+into my clothes. Yes; that's it.” He shoved his collar and tie into
+a pocket, slipped on his vest and coat, put on his hat and slung his
+topcoat over his arm. During these maneuvers the revolver remained
+conspicuously in sight. “Now, Francois, lead the way to the street door.
+By the time you return to your illustrious master, who is the prince or
+duke of something or other, pursuit will be out of the question. Now, as
+for you,” turning to Beauvais, “the forty-eight hours hold good. During
+that time I shall go armed. Forty-eight hours from now I shall inform
+the authorities at the nearest consulate. If they catch you, that's your
+affair. Off we go, Francois.”
+
+“By God!--” began Beauvais, struggling to his feet.
+
+“Come so far as this door,” warned Maurice, “and, bound or not, I'll
+knock you down. Hang you! Do you think my temper will improve in your
+immediate vicinity? Do you think for a moment that I do not lust for
+your blood as heartily as you lust for mine? Go to the devil your own
+way; you'll go fast enough!” He caught Francois by the shoulders and
+pushed him into the hall, followed, and closed the door. Francois had
+been graduated from the stables, therefore his courage never rose to
+sublime heights. All the way down the stairs he lamented; and each time
+he turned his head and saw the glitter of the revolver barrel he choked
+with terror.
+
+“If you do not kill me, Monsieur, he will; he will, I know he will!
+My God, how did it happen? He will kill me!” and the voice sank into a
+muffled sob.
+
+Despite the gravity of the situation, Maurice could not repress his
+laughter. “He will not harm you; he threatened you merely to delay me.
+Open the door.” He stepped out into the refreshing air. “By the way,
+tell your master not to go to the trouble of having me arrested, for the
+first thing in the morning I shall place a sealed packet in the hands
+of the British minister, to be opened if I do not call for it within
+twenty-four hours. And say to your master that I shall keep the rose.”
+
+“Mon Dieu! A woman! I might have known!” ejaculated Francois, as the
+door banged in his face.
+
+Maurice, on reaching the pavement, took to his legs, for he saw three
+men rapidly approaching. Perhaps they had heard the pistol shot. He
+concluded not to wait to learn. He continued his rush till he gained his
+room. It was two o'clock. He had been in the Colonel's room nearly three
+hours. It seemed only so many minutes. He hunted for his brandy, found
+it and swallowed several mouthfuls. Then he dropped into a chair from
+sheer exhaustion. Reaction laid hold of him. His hands shook, his legs
+trembled, and perspiration rolled down his cheek.
+
+“By George!” This exclamation stood alone, but it was an Odyssey. He
+remained stupefied, staring at his shoes, over which his stockings had
+fallen. His shirt buttons were gone, and the bosom was guiltless of its
+former immaculateness. After a time he became conscious of a burning
+pain in the elbow of his right arm. He glanced down at his hand, to find
+it covered with drying blood. He jumped up and cast about his clothes.
+One leg of his trousers was soaked, and the dull ache in his thigh
+told the cause. He salved the wounds and bound them in strips of
+handkerchiefs, which he held in place by using some of the cast-off
+cravats.
+
+“That was about as close to death as a man can get and pull out. I
+feel as if I had swallowed that cursed blade of his. I am an ass, sure
+enough. I've always a bad cold when there's a rat about; can't smell
+him. And the rascal remembered me! Will he stay in spite of my threat?
+I'll hang on here till to-morrow. If he stays--I won't. He has the
+devil's own of a sword. Hang it, my nerves are all gone to smash.”
+
+Soon some gentler thought took hold, and he smiled tenderly. He brought
+forth the rose, turned it this way and that, studied it, stroked it,
+held it to his lips as a lover holds the hand of the woman he loves. Her
+rose; somehow his heart told him that she had laughed because Beauvais
+had stooped in vain.
+
+“Ah, Maurice,” he said, “you are growing over fond. But why not? Who
+will know? To have loved is something.”
+
+He crept into bed; but sleep refused him its offices, and he tossed
+about in troubled dreams. He fought all kinds of duels with all sorts
+of weapons. He was killed a half dozen times, but the archbishop
+always gave him something which rekindled the vital spark. A thousand
+Beauvaises raged at him. A thousand princesses were ever in the
+background, waiting to be saved. He swore to kill these Beauvaises, and
+after many fruitless endeavors, he succeeded in smothering them in their
+gray pelisses. Then he woke, as dreamers always wake when they pass some
+great dream-crisis, and found himself in a deadly struggle with a pillow
+and a bed-post. He laughed and sprang out of bed.
+
+“It's no use, I can't sleep. I am an old woman.”
+
+So he lit his pipe and sat dreaming with his eyes open, smoking and
+smoking, until the sickly pallor of dawn appeared in the sky, and he
+knew that day had come.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. A MINOR CHORD AND A CHANGE OF MOVEMENT
+
+Marshal Kampf, wrapt in his military cloak, with the peak of his
+cap drawn over his eyes, sat on one of the rustic benches in the
+archbishop's gardens and reflected. The archbishop had announced an
+informal levee, the first since the king's illness. He had impressed the
+Marshal with the fact that his presence was both urgent and necessary.
+Disturbed as he was by the unusual command, the Marshal had arrived an
+hour too early. Since the prelate would not rise until nine, the Marshal
+told the valet that he would wait in the gardens.
+
+An informal levee, he mused. What was the meaning of it? Had that master
+of craft and silence found a breach in the enemy's fortifications? He
+rubbed the chill from his nose, crossed and re-crossed his legs and
+teetered till the spurs on his boots set up a tuneful jingle.
+
+So far as he himself was concerned, he was not worried. The prelate knew
+his views and knew that he would stand or fall with them. He had never
+looked for benefits, as did those around him. He had offered what he
+had without hope of reward, because he had considered it his duty. And,
+after all, what had the Osian done that he should be driven to this
+ignominious end? His motives never could be questioned; each act had
+been in some way for the country's good. Every king is a usurper to
+those who oppose him.
+
+Would the kingdom be bettered in having a queen against whom the
+confederation itself was opposed? Would it not be adding a twofold
+burden to the one? The kingdom was at peace with those countries
+from which it had most to fear. Was it wise to antagonize them? Small
+independent states were independent only by courtesy. Again, why had
+Austria contrived to place an alien on the throne, in face of popular
+sentiment? Would Austria's interests have been less safe in the advent
+of rightful succession? Up to now, what had Austria gained by ignoring
+the true house? Outwardly nothing, but below the surface? Who could
+answer?
+
+For eleven years he had tried to discover the secret purpose of Austria,
+but, like others, he had failed; and the Austrian minister was less
+decipherable than the “Chinese puzzle.” He was positive that none of
+the arch-conspirators knew; they were blinded by self-interest. And the
+archbishop? The Marshal rubbed his nose again, not, however, because
+it was cold. Did any one know what was going on behind the smiling mask
+which the reticent prelate showed to the world? The Marshal poked his
+chin above his collar, and the wrinkles fell away from his gray eyes.
+
+The sky was clear and brilliant, and a tonic from the forests sweetened
+the rushing air. The lake was ruffled out of its usual calm, and rolled
+and galloped along the distant shores and flashed on the golden sands.
+Above the patches of red and brown and yellow the hills and mountains
+stood out in bold, decided lines.
+
+Water fowl swept along the marshes. The doves in twos and threes
+fluttered down to the path, strutted about in their peculiarly awkward
+fashion, and doubtfully eyed the silent gray figure on the bench, as
+if to question his right to be there this time of the morning, their
+trysting hour. Presently the whole flock came down, and began cooing and
+waltzing at the Marshal's feet. He soon discovered the cause.
+
+Her Royal Highness was coming through the opening in the hedgerow which
+separated the two confines. She carried a basket on her arm, and the
+bulldog followed at her heels, holding his injured leg in the air, and
+limping on the remaining three. At the sight of her the doves rose and
+circled above her head. She smiled and threw into the air handful after
+handful of cake and bread crumbs. In their eagerness the doves alighted
+on her shoulders, on the rim of the basket, and even on the broad
+back of the dog, who was too sober to give attention to this seeming
+indignity. He kept his eye on his mistress's skirts, moved when she
+moved, and stopped when she stopped. A gray-white cloud enveloped them.
+
+The Marshal, with a curious sensation in his heart, observed this
+exquisite, living picture. He was childless; and though he was by
+nature undemonstrative, he was very fond of this youth. Her cheeks were
+scarlet, her rosy lips were parted in excitement, and her eyes glistened
+with pleasure. With all her twenty years, she was but ten in fancy;
+a woman, yet a child, unlettered in worldly wit, wise in her love of
+nature. Not until she had thrown away the last of the crumbs did she
+notice the Marshal. He rose and bowed.
+
+“Good morning, your Highness. I am very much interested in your court.
+And do you hold it every morning?”
+
+“Even when it rains,” she said, smiling. “I am so glad to see you; I
+wanted to talk to you last night, but I could not find the opportunity.
+Let me share the bench with you.”
+
+And youth and age sat down together. The bulldog planted himself in the
+middle of the path and blinked at his sworn enemy. The Marshal had no
+love for him, and he was well aware of it; at present, an armistice.
+
+The princess gazed at the rollicking waters, at her doves, thence into
+the inquiring gray eyes of the old soldier.
+
+“Do you remember,” she said, “how I used to climb on your knees, ever so
+long ago, and listen to your fairy stories?”
+
+“Eh! And is it possible that your Highness remembers?” wrinkles of
+delight gathering in his cheeks. “But why `ever so long ago'? It was but
+yesterday. And your Highness remembers!”
+
+“I am like my father; I never forget!” She looked toward the waters
+again. “I can recall only one story. It was about a princess who lost
+all her friends through the offices of a wicked fairy. I remember it
+because it was the only story you told me that had a sad ending. It was
+one of Andersen's. Her father and mother died, and the moment she was
+left alone her enemies set to work and toppled over her throne. She was
+cast out into the world, having no friend but a dog; but the dog always
+found something to eat, and protected her from giants and robbers and
+wolves.
+
+“Many a time I thought of her, and cried because she was so unhappy.
+Well, she traveled from place to place, footsore and weary, but in her
+own country no one dared aid her, for fear of displeasing the wicked
+fairy, who at this time was all powerful. So she entered a strange land,
+where some peasants took her in, clothed and fed her, and gave her a
+staff and a flock of geese to tend. And day after day she guarded the
+flock, telling her sorrows to the dog, how she missed the dear ones and
+the home of her childhood.
+
+“One day the reigning prince of this strange land passed by while
+hunting, and he saw the princess tending her geese. He made inquiries,
+and when he found that the beautiful goose-girl was a princess, he
+offered to marry her. She consented to become his wife, because she was
+too delicate to drudge. So she and her dog went to live at the palace.
+Once she was married the dog behaved strangely, whining softly, and
+refusing to be consoled. The prince was very kind to them both.
+
+“Alas! It seems that when she left her own country the good fairy had
+lost all track of her, to find her when it was too late. The dog was a
+prince under a wicked spell, and when the spell fell away the princess
+knew that she loved him, and not her husband. She pined away and
+died. How many times I have thought of her, poor, lonely, fairy-tale
+princess!”
+
+The old soldier blinked at the doves, and there was a furrow between his
+eyes. Yes; how well he remembered telling her that story. But, as she
+repeated it, it was clothed with a strange significance. Somehow, he
+found himself voiceless; he knew not how to reply.
+
+“Monsieur,” she said suddenly, “tell me, what has my poor father done
+that these people should hate him and desire his ruin?”
+
+“He has been kind to them, my child,” his gaze still riveted on the
+doves; “that is all. He has given them beautiful parks, he has made them
+a beautiful city. A king who thinks of his people's welfare is never
+understood. And ignorant and ungrateful people always hate those to whom
+they are under obligations. It is the way of the world.”
+
+“And--and you, Marshal?” timidly.
+
+“And I?”
+
+“Yes. They whisper that--that--O, Marshal, is it you who will forsake
+us in our need? I have heard many things of late which were not intended
+for my ears. My father and I, we are so alone. I have never known the
+comradeship of young people; I have never had that which youth longs
+for--a confidant of my own age. The young people I know serve me simply
+for their own ends, and not because they love me.
+
+“I have never spoken thus before to-day, save to this dog. He has been
+my confidant; but he can not speak except with his kind old eyes, and he
+can not understand as I would have him. And they hate even him because
+they know that I love him. Poor dog!
+
+“What my father has done has always been wrong in his own eyes, but he
+sinned for my sake, and God will forgive him. He gave up the home he
+loved for my sake. O, that I had known and understood! I was only six.
+We are so alone; we have no place to go, no friends save two, and they
+are helpless. And now I am to make a sacrifice for him to repay him for
+all he has done for me. I have promised my hand to one I do not love;
+even he forsakes me. But love is not the portion of princesses. Love to
+them is a fairy story. To secure my father's throne I have sacrificed my
+girlhood dreams. Ah! and they were so sweet and dear.”
+
+She put a hand to her throat as if something had tightened there.
+“Marshal, I beg of you to tell me the truth, the truth! Is my father
+dying? Is he? He--they will not tell me the truth. And I. .. never to
+hear his voice again! The truth, for pity's sake!” She caught at his
+hands and strove to read his eyes. “For pity's sake!”
+
+He drew his breath deeply. He dared not look into her eyes for fear she
+might see the tears in his; so he bent hastily and pressed her hands to
+his lips. But in his heart he knew that his promise to the dead was gone
+with the winds, and that he would shed the last drop of blood in his
+withered veins for the sake of this sad, lonely child.
+
+“Your father, my child, will never stand up straight again,” he said.
+“As for the rest, that is in the hands of God. But I swear to you that
+this dried-up old heart beats only for you. I will stand or fall with
+you, in good times or bad.” And he rubbed his nose more fiercely than
+ever. “Had I a daughter--But there! I have none.”
+
+“My heart is breaking,” she said, with a little sob. She sank back, her
+head drooped to the arm of the bench, and she made no effort to stem the
+flood of tears. “I have no mother, and now my father is to leave me.
+And I love him so, I love him so! He has sacrificed all his happiness to
+secure mine--in vain. I laugh and smile because he asks me to, and all
+the while my heart is breaking, breaking.”
+
+At this juncture the doves rose hurriedly. The Marshal discovered the
+archbishop's valet making toward him.
+
+“Monsieur the Marshal, Monseigneur breakfasts and requests you to join
+him.”
+
+“Immediately;” and the Marshal rose. He placed his hand on the dark
+head. “Keep up your heart, my child,” he said, “and we shall see if I
+have grown too old for service.” He squared his shoulders and followed
+the valet, who viewed the scene with a valet's usual nonchalance. When
+the Marshal reached the steps to the side entrance, he looked back. The
+dog had taken his place, and the girl had buried her face in his neck. A
+moment later the old soldier was ushered into the archbishop's presence,
+but neither with fear nor uneasiness in his heart.
+
+“Ah! Good morning, Marshal,” said the prelate. “Be seated. Did you not
+find it chilly in the gardens?”
+
+“Not the least. It is a fine day. I have just left her Royal Highness.”
+
+The prelate arched his eyebrows, and an interrogation shot out from
+under them.
+
+“Yes,” answered the observant soldier. “My heart has ever been hers;
+this time it is my hand and brain.”
+
+The prelate's egg spoon remained poised in mid-air; then it dropped with
+a clatter into the cup! But a moment gone he had held a sword in his
+hand; he was disarmed.
+
+“I have promised to stand and fall with her.”
+
+“Stand and fall? Why not 'or'?” with a long, steadfast gaze.
+
+“Did I say 'and'? Well, then,” stolidly, “perhaps that is the word I
+meant to use. If I do the one I shall certainly do the other.”
+
+The archbishop absently stirred his eggs.
+
+“God is witness,” said the Marshal, “I have always been honest.”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“And neutral.”
+
+“Yes; honest and neutral.”
+
+“But a man, a lonely man like myself, can not always master the impulses
+of the heart; and I have surrendered to mine.”
+
+The listener turned to some documents which lay beside the cup, and
+idly fingered them. “I am glad; I am very glad. I have always
+secretly admired you; and to tell the truth, I have feared you most of
+all--because you are honest.”
+
+The Marshal shifted his saber around and drew his knees together.
+“I return the compliment,” frankly. “I have never feared you; I have
+distrusted you.”
+
+“And why distrusted?”
+
+“Because Leopold of Osia would never have forsaken his birthright, nor
+looked toward a throne, had you not pointed the way and coveted the
+archbishopric.”
+
+“I wished only to make him great;” but the prelate lowered his eyes.
+
+“And share his greatness,” was the shrewd rejoinder. “I am an old
+man, and frankness in old age is pardonable. There are numbers of
+disinterested men in the world, but unfortunately they happen to be
+dead. O, I do not blame you; there is human nature in most of us. But
+the days of Richelieus and Mazarins are past. The Church is simply the
+church, and is no longer the power behind the throne. I have served the
+house of Auersperg for fifty years, that is to say, since I was sixteen;
+I had hoped to die in the service. Perhaps my own reason for distrusting
+you has not been disinterested.”
+
+“Perhaps not.”
+
+“And as I now stand I shall die neither in the service of the house of
+Auersperg nor of Osia. It is not the princess; it is the lonely girl.”
+
+“I need not tell you,” said the prelate quietly, “that I am in Bleiberg
+only for that purpose. And since we are together, I will tell you
+this: Madame the duchess will never sit upon this throne. To-day I am
+practically regent, with full powers from his Majesty. I have summoned
+von Wallenstein and Mollendorf for a purpose which I shall make known to
+you.” He held up two documents, and gently waving them: “These contain
+the dismissal of both gentlemen, together with my reasons. There were
+three; one I shall now destroy because it has suddenly become void.” He
+tore it up, turned, and flung the pieces into the grate.
+
+The Marshal glanced instinctively at his shoulder straps, and saw that
+they had come very near to oblivion.
+
+“There is nothing more, Marshal,” went on the prelate. “What I had to
+say to you has slipped my mind. Under the change of circumstances, it
+might embarrass you to meet von Wallenstein and Mollendorf. You have
+spoken frankly, and in justice to you I will return in kind. Yes, in the
+old days I was ambitious; but God has punished me through those I love.
+I shall leave to you the selection of a new Colonel of the cuirassiers.”
+
+“What! and Beauvais, too?” exclaimed the Marshal.
+
+“Yes. My plans require it. I have formed a new cabinet, which will meet
+to-night at eight. I shall expect you to be present.”
+
+The two old men rose. Suddenly, a kindly smile broke through the
+austereness of the prelate's countenance, and he thrust out his hand;
+the old soldier met it.
+
+“Providence always watches over the innocent,” said the prelate, “else
+we would have been still at war. Good morning.”
+
+The Marshal returned home, thoughtful and taciturn. What would be the
+end?
+
+Ten minutes after the Marshal's departure, von Wallenstein and
+Mollendorf entered the prelate's breakfast room.
+
+“Good morning, Messieurs,” said the churchman, the expression on his
+face losing its softness, and the glint of triumph stealing into
+his keen eyes. “I am acting on behalf of his Majesty this morning,”
+ presenting a document to each. “Observe them carefully.” He turned and
+left the room. The archbishop had not only eaten a breakfast, he had
+devoured a cabinet.
+
+Count von Wallenstein watched the retreating figure of the prelate till
+the door closed behind it; then he smiled at Mollendorf, who had not the
+courage to return it, and who stared at the parchment in his hand as if
+it were possessed of basilisk eyes.
+
+“Monseigneur,” said the count, as he glanced through the contents of
+the document, “has forestalled me. Well, well; I do not begrudge him his
+last card. He has played it; let us go.”
+
+“Perhaps,” faltered Mollendorf, “he has played his first card. What are
+you going to do?”
+
+“Remain at home and wait. And I shall not have long to wait. The end is
+near.”
+
+“Count, I tell you that the archbishop is not a man to play thus unless
+something strong were behind him. You do wrong not to fear him.”
+
+Von Wallenstein recalled the warning of the Colonel of the cuirassiers.
+“Nevertheless, we are too strong to fear him.”
+
+“Monseigneur is in correspondence with Austria,” said the minister of
+police, quietly.
+
+“You said nothing of this before,” was the surprised reply.
+
+“It was only this morning that I learned it.”
+
+The count's gaze roamed about the room, and finally rested on the
+charred slips of paper in the grate. He shrugged.
+
+“If he corresponds with Austria it is too late,” he said. “Come, let us
+go.” He snapped his fingers in the air, and Mollendorf followed him from
+the room.
+
+
+* * * * * *
+
+
+The princess still remained on the rustic bench; her head was bowed, but
+her tears were dried.
+
+“O, Bull,” she whispered, “and you and I shall soon be all alone!”
+
+A few doves fluttered about her; the hills flamed beneath the chill
+September sky, the waters sang and laughed, but she saw not nor heard.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. A CHANCE RIDE IN THE NIGHT
+
+Maurice, who had wisely slept the larger part of the day, and amused
+himself at solitary billiards until dinner, came out on the terrace
+to smoke his after-dinner cigar. He watched the sun as, like a ball of
+rusted brass, it slid down behind the hills, leaving the glowing embers
+of a smoldering day on the hilltops. The vermilion deepened into charred
+umber, and soon the west was a blackened grate; another day vanished in
+ashes. The filmy golden pallor of twilight now blurred the landscape;
+the wind increased with a gayer, madder, keener touch; the lake went
+billowing in shadows of gray and black, and one by one the lamps of the
+city sprang up, vivid as sparks from an anvil. Now and again the thin,
+clear music of the band drifted across from the park. The fountain
+glimmered in the Platz, the cafes began to glitter, carriages rolled
+hither and thither. The city had taken on its colorful night.
+
+“Well, here's another day gone,” he mused, rubbing his elbow, which
+was yet stiff. “I am anxious to know what that sinner is doing. Has
+he pulled up stakes or has he stayed to get a whack at me? I hope he's
+gone; he's a bad Indian, and if anything, he'll want my scalp in his
+belt before he goes. Hang it! It seems that I have poked my head into
+every bear trap in the kingdom. I may not get out of the next one. How
+clever I was, to be sure! It all comes from loving the dramatic. I am a
+diplomat, but nobody would guess it at first sight. To talk to a man as
+I talked to him, and to threaten! He said I was young; I was, but I grow
+older every day. And the wise word now is, don't imitate the bull of
+the trestle,” as he recalled an American cartoon which at that day was
+having vogue in the American colony in Vienna.
+
+“I like adventure, I know, but I'm going to give the Colonel a wide
+berth. If he sees me first, off the board I go. Where will he go--to the
+duchy? I trust not; we both can not settle in that territory; it's too
+small. And yet I am bound to go back; it is not my promise so much as
+it is my cursed curiosity. By George!” rubbing his elbow gently. “And to
+think, Maurice, that you might not have witnessed this sunset but for
+a bit of fencing trickery. What a turn that picture of Inez gave me! I
+knew him in a second--and like the ass I was, I told him so. And to meet
+him here, almost a left-handed king; no wonder I did not recognize him.
+
+“I should like to come in on Fitzgerald to-night. His father must have
+had a crazy streak in him somewhere. Four millions to throw away;
+humph! And who the deuce has those certificates?” He lolled against
+the parapet. “If I had four millions, and if Prince Frederick had
+disappeared for good.... Why are things so jumbled up, at sixes and
+sevens? We are all human beings; why should some be placed higher than
+others? A prince is no better than I am, and may be not half so good.
+
+“Sometimes I like to get up high somewhere and look down on every one
+else; every one else looks so small that it's comforting. The true
+philosopher has no desire; he sits down and views the world as if he
+were not a part of it. Perhaps it is best so. Yes, I would like four
+millions and a principality.... Heigho! how bracing the air is, and what
+a night for a ride! I've a mind to exercise Madame's horse. A long lone
+ride on the opposite side of the lake, on the road to Italy; come, let's
+try it. Better that than mope.”
+
+He mounted to the veranda, and for the first time he noticed the
+suppressed excitement which lit the faces of those around him. Groups
+were gathered here and there, talking, gesticulating, and flourishing
+the evening papers. He moved toward the nearest group.
+
+“The archbishop has dismissed the cabinet... crisis imminent.”
+
+“The Austrian minister has recalled his invitations to the embassy
+ball.”
+
+“The archbishop will not be able to form another cabinet.”
+
+“Count von Wallenstein...”
+
+“Mollendorf and Beauvais, too--”
+
+“The king is dying... The archbishop has been given full powers.”
+
+“The army will revolt unless Beauvais is recalled.”
+
+“And the Marshal says here...”
+
+Maurice waited to hear no more, but climbed through the window into the
+office.
+
+“By George, something has happened since last night. I must have an
+evening paper.” He found one, and read an elaborate account of what had
+taken place during the day. Von Wallenstein had been relieved of the
+finance. Mollendorf of the police, Erzberg of foreign affairs, and
+Beauvais of his epaulettes. There remained only the archbishop, the
+chancellor and the Marshal. The editorial was virulent in its attack on
+the archbishop, blustered and threatened, and predicted that the fall
+of the dynasty was but a matter of a few hours. For it asserted that
+the prelate could not form another cabinet, and without a cabinet
+there could be no government. It was not possible for the archbishop to
+shoulder the burden alone; he must reinstate the ministry or fall.
+
+“And this is the beginning of the end,” said Maurice, throwing aside the
+paper. “What will happen next? The old prelate is not a man to play to
+the gallery. Has he found out the double dealing of Beauvais? That takes
+a burden off my shoulders--unless he goes at once to the duchy. But why
+wasn't the cabinet dismissed ages ago? It is now too late. And where is
+Prince Frederick to the rescue? There is something going on, and what it
+is only the archbishop knows. That smile of his! How will it end? I'd
+like to see von Mitter, who seems to be a good gossip. And that poor,
+friendless, paralytic king! I say, but it makes the blood grow warm.”
+
+He left the chair and paced the office confines. Only one thing went
+echoing through his brain, and that was he could do nothing. The sooner
+he settled down in the attitude of a spectator the better for him.
+Besides, he was an official in the employ of a foreign country, and
+it would be the height of indiscretion to meddle, even in a private
+capacity. It would be to jeopardize his diplomatic career, and that
+would be ridiculous.
+
+A porter touched him on the shoulder.
+
+“A letter for your Excellency.”
+
+It was from the American minister in Vienna.
+
+“My dear Carewe: I have a service to ask of you. The British minister is
+worried over the disappearance of a fellow-countryman, Lord Fitzgerald.
+He set out for Bleiberg, leaving instructions to look him up if nothing
+was heard of him within a week. Two weeks have gone. Knowing you to
+be in Bleiberg, I believed you might take the trouble to look into the
+affair. The British ambassador hints at strange things, as if he feared
+foul play. I shall have urgent need of you by the first of October; our
+charge d'affaires is to return home on account of ill-health, and your
+appointment to that office is a matter of a few days.”
+
+Maurice whistled. “That is good news; not Haine's illness, but that I
+have an excuse to meddle here. I'll telegraph at once. And I'll take
+the ride besides.” He went to his room and buckled on his spurs, and
+thoughtfully slipped his revolver into a pocket. “I am not going to take
+any chances, even in the dark.” Once again in the office, he stepped
+up to the desk and ordered his horse to be brought around to the cafe
+entrance.
+
+“Certainly,” said the clerk. Then in low tones “There has been a curious
+exchange in saddles, Monsieur.”
+
+“Saddles?”
+
+“Yes. The saddle in your stall is, curiously enough, stamped with the
+arms of the house of Auersperg. How that military saddle came into the
+stables is more than the grooms can solve.”
+
+“O,” said Maurice, with an assumption of carelessness; “that is all
+right. It's the saddle I arrived on. The horse and saddle belong to
+Madame the duchess. I have been visiting at the Red Chateau. I shall
+return in the morning.”
+
+“Ah,” said the clerk, with a furtive smile which Maurice lost; “that
+accounts for the mystery.”
+
+“Here are two letters that must get in to-night's mails,” Maurice said;
+“and also this telegram should be sent at once.”
+
+“As Monsieur desires. Ah, I came near forgetting. There is a note for
+Monsieur, which came this afternoon while Monsieur was asleep.”
+
+The envelope was unstamped, and the scrawl was unfamiliar to Maurice.
+On opening it he was surprised to find a hurriedly written note from
+Fitzgerald. In all probability it had been brought by the midnight
+courier on his return from the duchy.
+
+     “In God's name, Maurice, why do you linger?
+     To-morrow morning those consols must be here
+     or they will be useless. Hasten; you know what
+     it means to me.
+                                 Fitzgerald.”
+
+Maurice perused it twice, and pulled at his lips. “Madame becomes
+impatient. Poor devil. Somebody is likely to become suddenly rich
+and somebody correspondingly poor. What will they say when I return
+empty-handed? Like as not Madame will accuse me--and Fitzgerald will
+believe her!... The archbishop! That accounts for this bold move. And
+how the deuce did he get hold of them? I give up.” And his shoulders
+settled in resignation.
+
+He passed down into the cafe, from there to his horse, which a groom was
+holding at the curb. He swung into the saddle and tossed a coin to the
+man, who touched his cap.
+
+The early moon lifted its silvery bulk above the ragged east, and the
+patches of clouds which swarmed over the face of that white world of
+silence resembled so many rooks. Far away, at the farthermost shore of
+the lake, whenever the moon went free from the clouds, Maurice could see
+the slim gray line of the road which stretched toward Italy.
+
+“It's a fine night,” he mused, glancing heavenward. The horse answered
+the touch of the spurs, and cantered away, glad enough to exchange
+the close air of the stables for this fresh gift of the night. Maurice
+guided him around the palaces into the avenue, which derived its name
+from the founder of the opera, in which most of the diplomatic families
+lived. Past the residence of Beauvais he went, and, gazing up at the
+lightless windows, a cold of short duration seized his spine. It bad
+been a hair's breadth betwixt him and death. “Your room, Colonel, is
+better than your company; and hereafter I shall endeavor to avoid both. I
+shall feel that cursed blade of yours for weeks to come.”
+
+Carriages rolled past him. A gay throng in evening dress was
+crowding into the opera. The huge placard announced, “Norma--Mlle.
+Lenormand--Royal Opera Troupe.” How he would have liked to hear it, with
+Lenormand in the title role. He laughed as he recalled the episodes in
+Vienna which were associated with this queen of song. He waved his
+hand as the opera house sank in the distance. “Au revoir, Celeste, ma
+charmante; adieu.” By and by he reached the deserted part of the city,
+and in less than a quarter of an hour branched off into the broad road
+bordering the lake. The horse quickened his gait as he felt the stone
+of the streets no longer beneath his feet, which now fell with muffled
+rhythm on the sound earth. Maurice shared with him the delight of the
+open country, and began to talk to the animal.
+
+“A fine night, eh, old boy? I've ridden many backs, but none easier than
+yours. This air is what gives the blood its color. Too bad; you ought
+not to belong to Madame. She will never think as much of you as I
+should.”
+
+The city was falling away behind, and a yellow vapor rose over it. The
+lake tumbled in moonshine. Maurice took to dreaming again--hope and a
+thousand stars, love and a thousand dreams.
+
+“God knows I love her; but what's the use? We can not all have what we
+want; let us make the best of what we have. Philosophy is a comfort only
+to old age. Why should youth bother to reason why? And I--I have not yet
+outgrown youth. I believed I had, but I have not. I did not dream she
+existed, and now she is more to me than anything else in the world.
+Why; I wonder why? I look into a pair of brown eyes, and am seized with
+madness. I hope. For what? O, Bucephalus! let us try to wake and leave
+the dream behind. The gratitude of a princess and a dog... and for this
+a rose. Well, it will prove the substance of many a pipe, many a kindly
+pipe. You miss a good deal, Bucephalus; smoking is an evil habit only to
+those who have not learned to smoke.”
+
+The animal replied with a low whinney, and Maurice, believing that
+the horse had given an ear to his monologue, laughed. But he flattered
+himself. The horse whinneyed because he inhaled the faint odor of his
+kind. He drew down on the rein and settled into a swinging trot, which
+to Maurice's surprise was faster and easier than the canter. They
+covered a mile this way, when Maurice's roving eye discovered moving
+shadows, perhaps half a mile in advance.
+
+“Hello! we're not the only ones jogging along. Eh, what's that?”
+ Something flashed brightly, like silver reflecting moonlight; then came
+a spark of flame, which died immediately, and later Maurice caught an
+echo which resembled the bursting of a leaf against the lips. “Come;
+that looks like a pistol shot.”
+
+Again the flash of silver, broader and clearer this time; and Maurice
+could now separate the shadow-shapes. A carriage of some sort rolled
+from side to side, and two smaller shadows followed its wild flight.
+One--two--three times Maurice saw the sparks and heard the faint
+reports. He became excited. Something extraordinary was taking place on
+the lonely road. Suddenly the top of the carriage replied with spiteful
+flashes of red. Then the moon came out from behind the clouds, and
+the picture was vividly outlined. Two continuous flashes of silver....
+Cuirassiers! Maurice loosened the rein, and the horse went forward as
+smoothly as a sail. The distance grew visibly less. The carriage opened
+fire again, and Maurice heard the sinister m-m-m of a bullet winging
+past him.
+
+“The wrong man may get hit, Bucephalus,” he said, bending to the neck
+of the horse; “which is not unusual. You're pulling them down, old boy;
+keep it up. There's trouble ahead, and since the cuirassiers are for the
+king, we'll stand by the cuirassiers.”
+
+On they flew, nearer and nearer, until the pistol shots were no longer
+echoes. Two other horsemen came into view, in advance of the carriage.
+Five minutes more of this exciting chase, and the faces took on lines
+and grew into features. Up, up crept the gallant little horse, his hoofs
+rattling against the road like snares on a drum. When within a dozen
+rods, Maurice saw one of the cuirassiers turn and level a revolver at
+him. Fortunately the horse swerved, and the ball went wide.
+
+“Don't shoot!” Maurice yelled; “don't shoot!”
+
+The face he saw was von Mitter's. His heart clogged in his throat, not
+at the danger which threatened him, but at the thought of what that
+carriage might contain.
+
+A short time passed, during which nothing was heard but the striking
+of galloping hoofs and the rumble of the carriage. Maurice soon drew
+abreast of von Mitter. There was a gash on the latter's cheek, and the
+blood from it dripped on his cuirass.
+
+“Close for you, my friend,” he gasped; when he recognized the new
+arrival. “Have you--God! my leg that time,” with a groan.
+
+For the fire of the carriage had spoken again, and true.
+
+Maurice shut his teeth, drew his revolver, cocked it and applied the
+spurs. With a bound he shot past von Mitter, who was cursing deeply and
+trying to reload. Maurice did not propose to waste powder on the driver,
+but was determined to bring down one of the carriage horses, which
+were marvelous brutes for speed. Scharfenstein kept popping away at the
+driver, but without apparent result. Finally Maurice secured the desired
+range. He raised the revolver, rested the barrel between the left thumb
+and forefinger and pressed the trigger. The nearest carriage horse
+lurched to his knees, a bullet in his brain, dragging his mate with him.
+The race had come to an end.
+
+At once the two horsemen in front separated; one continued toward the
+great forest, while the other took to the hills. Scharfenstein started
+in pursuit of the latter. As for the carriage, it came to an abrupt
+stand. The driver made a flying leap toward the lake, but stumbled and
+fell, and before he could regain his feet Maurice was off his horse and
+on his quarry. He caught the fellow by the throat and pressed him to the
+earth, kneeling on his chest.
+
+“Hold him!” cried von Mitter, coming up with a limp, “hold him till I
+knock in his head, damn him!”
+
+“No, no!” said Maurice, “you can't get information out of a dead man.”
+
+“It's all up with me,” groaned the Lieutenant. “I'll ask for my
+discharge. I could hit nothing, my hand trembled. I was afraid of
+shooting into the carriage.”
+
+Maurice turned his attention to the man beneath him. “Now, you devil,”
+ he cried, “a clean breast of it, or off the board you go. O!” suddenly
+peering down. “By the Lord, so it is you--you--you!” savagely bumping
+the fellow's head against the earth. “Spy!”
+
+“You are killing me!”
+
+“Small matter. Who is this fellow?” asked Maurice.
+
+“Johann Kopf, a spy, a police rat, and God knows what else,” answered
+von Mitter, limping toward the carriage. “Curse the leg!” He forced
+the door and peered inside. “Fainted! I thought as much.” He lifted the
+inanimate bundle which lay huddled in between the seats and carried it
+to the side of the road, where he tenderly laid it. He rubbed the girl's
+wrists, unmindful of the blood which fell from his face and left dark
+stains on her dress. “Thank God,” heartily, “that her Royal Highness was
+suffering from a headache. She would have died from fright.”
+
+Maurice felt the straining cords in the prisoner's neck grow limp. The
+rascal had fainted.
+
+“Not her Highness?” Maurice asked, the weight of dread lifting from his
+heart.
+
+“No. Her Royal Highness sent Camille, her maid of honor, veiled and
+dressed like herself, to play an innocent jest on her old nurse. Some
+one shall account for this; for they mistook Camille for her Highness.
+I'm going to wade out into the water,” von Mitter added, staggering to
+his feet.
+
+“You'll never get off your boot,” said Maurice.
+
+“I'll cut it off,” was the reply, “I shall faint if I do not cool off
+the leg. The ball is somewhere in the calf.” And he waded out into the
+water until it reached above his knees. Thus he stood for a moment, then
+returned to the maid, who, on opening her eyes, screamed. “It is all
+over, Camille,” said the Lieutenant, throwing an arm about her.
+
+“Your face is bleeding!” she cried, and sank back with her head against
+his broad breast.
+
+As Maurice gazed at the pair he sighed. There were no obstacles here.
+
+Soon Scharfenstein came loping down the hill alone.
+
+“I killed his horse,” he said, in response to queries, “but he fled
+into the woods where I could not follow. A bad night for us, Carl, a bad
+night,” swinging off his horse. “A boy would have done better work. Whom
+have we here?”
+
+“Kopf,” said Maurice, “and he has a ball somewhere inside,” holding up a
+bloody hand.
+
+“Kopf?” Scharfenstein cocked his revolver.
+
+The maid of honor placed her hands over her ears and screamed again. Max
+gazed at her, and, with a short, Homeric laugh, lowered the revolver.
+
+“Any time will do,” he said. “Ah, he opens his eyes.”
+
+The prisoner's eyes rolled wildly about. That frowning face above him...
+was it a vision? Who was it? What was he doing here?
+
+“Who put you up to this?” demanded Maurice.
+
+“You are choking me!”
+
+“Who, I say?”
+
+“Beauvais.”
+
+Scharfenstein and von Mitter looked at each other comprehensively.
+
+“Who is this Beauvais? Speak!”
+
+“I am dying, Herr... Your knees--”
+
+Maurice withdrew his knees. “Beauvais; who is he?”
+
+“Prince... Walmoden, formerly of the emperor's staff.”
+
+Johann's eyes closed again, and his head fell to one side.
+
+“He looks as if he were done for,” said Maurice, standing up. “Let us
+clear up the rubbish and hitch a horse to the carriage. The mate's all
+right.”
+
+Von Mitter assisted the maid into the carriage and seated her.
+
+“Go and stay with her,” said Maurice, brusquely; “you're half fainting.”
+
+“You are very handy, Carewe,” said von Mitter gratefully, and he climbed
+in beside the maid, who, her fright gone, gave way to womanly instincts.
+She took her kerchief and wiped the Lieutenant's cheek, pressing his
+hand in hers the while.
+
+Maurice and Scharfenstein worked away at the traces, and dragged the
+dead horse to the side of the road. Scharfenstein brought around von
+Mitter's horse, took oft the furnishings, and backed him into the pole.
+
+Meanwhile the man lying by the water's edge showed signs of returning
+life. He turned his head cautiously. His enemies were a dozen yards away
+from him. Slowly he rolled over on his stomach, thence to his knees.
+They were paying no attention to him....
+
+“Ho, there! the prisoner!” cried von Mitter, tumbling out of the
+carriage. He tried to stand up, but a numbness seized his legs, and he
+sank to a sitting posture.
+
+Maurice and Scharfenstein turned too late. Johann had mounted on
+Scharfenstein's horse, and was flying away down the road. Maurice coolly
+leveled his revolver and sent two bullets after him. The second one
+caused Johann to straighten stiffly, then to sink; but he hung on to the
+horse.
+
+“Hurry!” cried Maurice; “I've hit him and we'll find him along the road
+somewhere.”
+
+They lifted von Mitter into the carriage, wheeled it about, and
+Scharfenstein mounted the box. Maurice sprang into his saddle, and they
+clattered off toward the city.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. THE LAST STAND OF A BAD SERVANT
+
+The cuirassiers stationed in the guardroom of the royal palace walked
+gently on the tiling, when occasion required them to walk, and when they
+entered or left the room, they were particularly careful to avoid
+the chink of the spur or the clank of the saber. Although the royal
+bedchamber was many doors removed, the Captain had issued a warning
+against any unnecessary noise. A loud laugh, or the falling of a saber
+carelessly rested, drew upon the unlucky offender the scowling eyes of
+the commander, who reclined in front of the medieval fireplace, in
+which a solitary log burned, and brooded over past and present. The high
+revels in the guardroom were no more, the cuirassiers were no longer
+made up of the young nobles of the kingdom; they were now merely watch
+dogs.
+
+Twenty years ago the commander had come from Dresden as an instructor in
+arms, and after the first year had watched over the royal household, in
+the service of the late king and the king who lay dying. He had come of
+good family, but others had come off better, and had carried off court
+honors, though his post in early days had been envied by many. He was
+above all else a soldier, the embodiment of patience and integrity, and
+he scorned to murmur because fortune had passed over his head. As he
+sucked at his pipe, he recalled the days of Albrecht and his opera
+singers, the court scandals, and his own constant employment as
+messenger in the king's love intrigues.
+
+Albrecht had died a widower and childless, and with him had died the
+flower of court life. The courtiers and sycophants had flocked to the
+standard of the duke, and had remained there, primarily because Leopold
+of Osia promised a sedate and exemplary life. Sometimes the Captain
+shook his head, as if communing with some unpleasant thought. On each
+side of him sat a soldier, also smoking and ruminating.
+
+At the mess table a dozen or so whiled away the time at cards. The
+wavering lights of the candle and hearth cast warring shadows on the
+wall and floor, and the gun and saber racks twinkled. If the players
+spoke, it was in tones inaudible to the Captain's ears.
+
+“Our bread and butter,” said the Captain softly, “are likely to take
+unto themselves the proverbial wings and fly away.”
+
+No one replied. The Captain was a man who frequently spoke his thoughts
+aloud, and required no one to reply to his disjointed utterances.
+
+“A soldier of fortune,” he went on, “pins his faith and zeal to
+standards which to-day rise and to-morrow fall. Unfortunately, he takes
+it at flood tide, which immediately begins to ebb.”
+
+The men on either side of him nodded wisely.
+
+“The king can no longer speak. That is why the archbishop has dismissed
+the cabinet. While he could speak, his Majesty refused to listen to the
+downfall of his enemies. Why? Look to heaven; heaven only can answer.
+How many men of the native troops are quartered in these buildings? Not
+one--which is bad. Formerly they were in the majority. Extraordinary.
+His Majesty would have made friends with them, but the archbishop, an
+estimable man in his robes, practically ostracized them. Bad, very bad.
+Had we been comrades, there might be a different end.
+
+“Faugh! if one of us sticks his head into the city barracks a breath
+of ice is our reward. Kronau never attends the receptions. A little
+flattery, which costs nothing, and they would have been willing to die
+for his Majesty. Now--” He knocked his pipe on the firedog. “Now,
+they would not lift a finger. A soldier will forgive all things but
+premeditated neglect.
+
+“As for me, when the time comes I shall return to Dresden and die of old
+age. Maybe, though, I shan't. When his Majesty dies there is like to be
+a clash. The duchess is a clever woman, but she would make a balky wife;
+a capillary affection which runs in the family. Red hair in a man
+is useful; in a woman it is unmanageable.” He refilled his pipe and
+motioned toward the tongs. The soldier nearest caught up a brand and
+held it out. The Captain laid his pipe against it and drew. “It's
+a dreary watch I have from ten till daylight, in his Majesty's
+antechamber, but he will trust no other man at that post.” And with this
+he fell into silence.
+
+Some time passed. Twice the Captain pulled out his watch and looked at
+it. Shortly after nine o'clock the beat of hoofs came up the driveway,
+and the Captain turned his head toward the entrance and waited. A moment
+later the door opened and three men stood framed in the doorway. Two of
+them--one in civilian dress--were endeavoring to hold up a third between
+them. The central figure presented an alarming picture. His cuirass and
+white trousers were splashed with blood, and his head rolled from side
+to side, almost insensibly.
+
+“A thousand devils!” exclaimed the Captain at the sight of this
+unexpected tableau. He sprang up, toppling over his chair. “What's this?
+Von Mitter? Blood? Have those damned students--”
+
+“A brush on the lake road,” interrupted Sharfenstein, breathlessly.
+“Help him over to a chair, Monsieur Carewe. That's it.”
+
+“Have you a knife, Captain?” asked Maurice.
+
+The Captain whipped out his knife, locked it, and gave it to Maurice.
+“Riemer,” he called to one of the cuirassiers, who were rising from the
+mess table, “bring out your box of instruments; and you, Scharfenstein,
+a basin of cold water. Quick!”
+
+Maurice knelt and deftly cut away the Lieutenant's boot. A pool of blood
+collected on the floor.
+
+“God save us!” cried the Captain, “his boot is full of blood.” He
+turned to Scharfenstein, who was approaching with the basin. “What has
+happened, Max?”
+
+Scharfenstein briefly explained.
+
+“And Kopf?”
+
+“Got away, curse him!”
+
+“And the others?” with a lowering brow.
+
+“They all got away,” adding an oath under his breath. Max set the basin
+on the floor.
+
+“Bad, very bad. Why didn't you shoot?”
+
+“He was afraid of hitting Mademoiselle Bachelier,” Maurice interposed.
+
+Max threw him a grateful look.
+
+“Humph!” The Captain called his men around him. “Two of you--. But wait.
+Who's back of Kopf?”
+
+“Our distinguished Colonel,” snapped Max, “who was this day relieved of
+his straps. A case of revenge, probably.”
+
+“Beauvais! Ah, ah!” The Captain smiled grimly. He had always hated
+Beauvais, who had, for no obvious reason, passed him and grasped the
+coveted colonelcy, and because, curiously enough, the native troops had
+made an idol of him. “Beauvais? I am not surprised. An adventurer, with
+neither kith nor country.”
+
+“He is Prince Walmoden,” said Maurice, “and for some reason not known,
+the emperor has promised to recall him.”
+
+This information caused the Captain to step back, and he muttered the
+name several times. “Austria....” A gloom settled on his face. “No
+matter. Prince or no prince, or had he one thousand emperors behind him,
+no matter. Four of you seek him and arrest him. If he offers resistance,
+knock him on the head, but arrest him. A traitor is without name,
+country or respect. His purpose... Never mind.
+
+“Four of you seek for Kopf. Look into Stuler's, in at the opera, and
+follow Kopf's woman home. I'll take it upon myself to telegraph the
+frontier to allow no one to cross on the pain of being shot. Pass the
+word to the officers in the stables. Hurry away before the archbishop
+hears of the matter. Away with you, and quietly. And one of you seek
+that blockhead of a coachman, who did not know enough to come back here
+and inform us. Beauvais, make him a prisoner, you are not to know
+why. As for Kopf, dead or alive--alive will be less convenient for all
+concerned. Off with you!”
+
+The guardroom was at once emptied, and the cuirassiers turned off toward
+the stables, where the main body of the troops was stationed.
+
+Riemer, who was both surgeon and soldier, probed the wound in von
+Miner's leg and extracted the bullet, which had lodged in the fleshy
+part of the calf. He applied cold water, lints and bandages. All the
+while von Mitter sat in the chair, his eyes shut and his lips closed
+tightly.
+
+“There!” said the surgeon, standing up, “that's better. The loss of
+blood is the worst part of it.” Next he took a few stitches in the cut
+on the cheek and threw his cloak over the wounded man's knee. “He'll be
+all right in a day or so, though he'll limp. Carl?”
+
+“O, I'm sound enough,” answered von Mitter, opening his eyes. “A little
+weak in the knees, that's all. I shouldn't have given in, only Kopf got
+away when we had him fair and fast. We found his horse wandering about
+the Frohngarten, but no sign of Johann. He's got it, though, square in
+the back.”
+
+“I'm sure of it,” said Maurice, who leaned over the back of the
+speaker's chair.
+
+The Captain eyed him inquiringly.
+
+“Pardon me,” said Scharfenstein. “Captain, Monsieur Carewe, an American
+tourist, formerly of the United States cavalry. And a pretty shot, too,
+by the book! It would have gone badly with us but for him.”
+
+“My thanks,” said the Captain, with a jerky nod. “Max, come, give me the
+whole story.”
+
+And Scharfenstein dropped into a chair and recounted in picturesque
+diction the adventure; how they had remained by the royal carriage till
+the nurse, recovering from her faint, had rushed out and told them of
+the abduction; and the long race on the south shore. While he listened
+the Captain smoked thoughtfully; and when the story was done, he rose
+and wagged his head.
+
+“Call it revenge,” he said, “if it strikes you in that light. Monsieur
+Carewe, what is your opinion?”
+
+“It occurs to me,” answered Maurice, rubbing the scratch the late
+Colonel's sword had left on his chin, “it occurs to me that the man
+played his hand a few days too late.”
+
+“Which is to say?”
+
+“Well, I do not call it revenge,” Maurice admitted, unwilling to venture
+any theory.
+
+“No more do I;” and the Captain began drumming on the mantel. “What say,
+Max; how would the illustrious Colonel look with the shadow of a crown
+on his head? He comes from Austria, who, to my thinking, is cognizant of
+all he does and has done.”
+
+The answer was not spoken. The door, leading to the main palace through
+the kitchens, opened, and the Marshal, the princess, and the maid of
+honor came down the steps. The Captain, Max and the surgeon stood at
+salute. Maurice, however, drew back into the shadows at the side of
+the grate. The old soldier gazed down at the pale face of the young
+Lieutenant, and smiled kindly.
+
+“Even the best of soldiers make mistakes,” he said; “even the best. No,”
+ as von Mitter made an attempt to speak. “I've heard all about it, and
+from a most reliable source,” nodding toward the anxious maid of
+honor. “Colonel,” he addressed the Captain, whose eyes started at this
+appellation, “Colonel, you will report to me in the morning to assume
+your new duties. You have been a faithful Captain and a good soldier. I
+know your value, your name and your antecedents, which till now was more
+than I knew of your late predecessor. Von Mitter will take upon himself
+your duties as Captain of the household troop; and you, Scharfenstein,
+will hereafter take charge of her Royal Highness's carriage, and you may
+choose whom you will as your comrade.”
+
+“I have always tried to do my duty,” said von Mitter. He felt a small
+hand secretly press his.
+
+“And you have always succeeded, Captain,” said a voice which made
+Maurice's foolish heart leap. “See, I am the first to give you your new
+rank. How you must suffer!”
+
+“God bless your Royal Highness!” murmured the fellow, at once racked
+with pain and happiness. “But I am not the one you must thank for this
+night's work.”
+
+The Marshal peered at the silent figure beyond the fireplace. Maurice
+was compelled to stand forth. “Ah!” said the Marshal.
+
+“Yes,” went on von Mitter, “but for him no one knows what the end might
+have been. And I, thinking him one of the abducting party coming up from
+the rear, shot at him.”
+
+The princess took a step forward, anxiety widening her dark eyes; and
+the swift glance added to the fever in the recipient's veins.... How
+beautiful she was, and how far away! He laid his hand on the top of von
+Mitter's chair.
+
+“Monsieur Carewe,” said the Marshal, “seems to have plenty of leisure
+time on his hands--fortunately for us. You were not hit?”
+
+“O, no,” said Maurice, blushing. He had discerned an undercurrent of
+raillery in the Marshal's tones. “The ball came close to my ear, that
+was all. It is strange how that fellow got away. I am positive that I
+hit him.”
+
+“We shall find him,” said the Marshal, with a look at the
+newly-appointed Colonel which said: “Your straps hang in the balance.”
+ He rubbed his nose. “Well, is your Royal Highness satisfied that there
+is no danger?”
+
+“Yes, Marshal; but think, if he should have been killed! Ah, what does
+it all mean? What had this man against me, who have always been kind to
+him?”
+
+“We shall, with your Highness's permission,” said the Marshal, “leave
+all questions to the future. Let us return to the archbishop, who
+is doubtless awaiting the news. Take good care of yourself, Captain.
+To-morrow, Colonel; good evening to you, Monsieur Carewe;” and the terse
+old soldier proceeded to the door and held it open for the women.
+
+“Good night, Messieurs,” said her Highness. “I shall not forget. Thanks
+to you, Captain.” One more glance, and she was gone. But this glance
+blossomed in one heart into a flower of hope.
+
+The Marshal, having closed the door behind the women, returned to the
+group before the fireplace. They watched him interestedly.
+
+“Colonel,” he said, “make no effort to seek Beauvais. As for Kopf, that
+is different. But Beauvais--”
+
+“To let him go?” exclaimed the Colonel in dismay.
+
+“Aye, to let him go. We do not seek bears with birdshot, and that is all
+we have. He will leave the country.”
+
+“And go to the duchy!”
+
+“So much the better; when the time comes, our case against him will
+be so much the stronger. Mind you, this is not from sentiment. I have
+none,” glaring around to see if any dared refute this assertion. “It is
+policy, and Monseigneur concurs with me.”
+
+“But I have sent men after him!” cried the Colonel, in keen
+disappointment.
+
+“Send men after them to rescind the order.”
+
+“And if they should catch him?”
+
+“Let him go; that is my order. The servant will be sufficient for our
+needs. Monsieur Carewe, I rely on your discretion;” and the Marshal
+passed into the kitchens.
+
+The men looked at each other in silence. A moment later the Colonel
+dashed from the room, off to the stables.
+
+“Well, I'm off,” said Maurice. The desire to tell what he knew was
+beginning to master him. It was too late now, he saw that. Besides, they
+might take it into their heads to detain him. He put on his hat. “Good
+night; and good luck to your leg, Captain.”
+
+“Till to-morrow,” said von Mitter, who had taken a fancy to the
+smooth-faced young American, who seemed at home in all places.
+
+“I am going away to-morrow,” said Maurice, pressing the Lieutenant's
+hand. “I shall return in a day or so.”
+
+He led his horse to the hotel stables, lit a fresh cigar and promenaded
+the terrace. “Some day,” he mused, “perhaps I'll be able to do something
+for myself. To-morrow we'll take a look at Fitzgerald's affairs, like
+the good fairy we are. If the Colonel is there, so much the worse for
+one or the other of us.” He laughed contentedly. “Beauvais took my
+warning and lit out, or his henchman would never have made a botch of
+the abduction. It is my opinion that Madame wanted a hostage, for it
+is impossible to conceive that the man made the attempt on his own
+responsibility. I shall return to the duchy in a semi-official character
+as an envoy extraordinary to look into the whereabouts of one Lord
+Fitzgerald. Devil take me, but I did make a mess of it when I slapped
+him on the shoulder that night.” The princess had not addressed a word
+to him. Why?
+
+When the princess and her maid of honor had passed through the kitchens
+into the princess's boudoir, the maid suddenly caught her mistress's
+hand and imprinted a hasty kiss on it, to the latter's surprise and
+agitation. There was something in that kiss which came nearer to sincere
+affection than Mademoiselle Bachelier had ever shown before.
+
+“Camille?”
+
+“God bless your Highness!” whispered the girl, again pressing the cold
+hand to her lips. What had given rise to this new-born affection she
+herself could not say, but a sudden wave of pity rushed into her
+heart. Perhaps it was because she loved and was loved that caused this
+expansion of heart toward her mistress, who was likely never to love or
+beget love, who stood so lonely. Tears came into her eyes.
+
+“You are hysterical!” said the princess.
+
+“No; it is because--because--” She stopped and a blush suffused her face
+and temples.
+
+The princess took the face between her hands and gazed long and
+earnestly into it. “Have you discovered a belated pity in your heart
+for me? Or is it because you thought him wounded unto death, and he was
+not?”
+
+“It is both!” weeping.
+
+The princess put her arms around the maid. “And you weep for happiness?
+Let us weep together, then; only--I can not weep for happiness.”
+
+To return to the flight of Kopf. As he dashed down the road he heard two
+reports. At the second he experienced a terrible burning blow under
+the right shoulder-blade, and immediately his arm became paralyzed.
+He coughed. With a supreme effort he managed to recover his balance.
+Already his collar-bone had been cracked by a bullet either from von
+Mitter or from Scharfenstein.
+
+“God's curse on them all!” he sobbed, pushing his knees into his horse;
+“God's curse!” He bit his lips; and when he drew his breath the pain
+which followed almost robbed him of his senses. Behind him the sound of
+hoofs came no nearer; he had a chance. He could not look back to see if
+he gained, however, as his neck was stiffening.
+
+“Curse him and his damned gold! He never warned me as he said he would.”
+ On he rode. The moon became obscured, and when it flashed again he could
+see it but indistinctly.... To reach the city, to reach Gertrude's, to
+give the horse a cut and send him adrift, this was his endeavor. But
+would he reach the city--alive? Was he dying? He could not see... Yet
+again he shut his jaws and drew on his entire strength. He was keeping
+in the saddle by will power alone. If the horse faltered he was lost. To
+Gertrude; she could use them. And after all he loved her. If he died she
+would be provided for.
+
+The first of the city lamps. He sobbed. Into this street he turned,
+into that, expecting each moment to be challenged, for the white saddle
+blanket of the cuirassiers stood out conspicuously. At last he had but
+a corner to turn. He stopped, slid from the saddle and gave the animal
+a cut across the face. The horse reared, then plunged forward at a wild
+gallop. Johann staggered along the street, fumbling in his pockets for
+his keys.
+
+Gertrude of the opera company was usually in the ballet. To-night she
+had left the stage after the first dance. She had complained of a
+severe headache, and as the manager knew her worth he had permitted
+her withdrawal from the corps. She lived off the Frohngarten, in an
+apartment on the second floor, over a cheap restaurant. She was bathing
+her temples in perfumed ammonia water, when she heard footsteps in the
+corridor, and later the rasp of a key in the lock. As the door opened
+she beheld a spectacle which caused her to scream.
+
+“Hush! Gertrude, I am dying.... Brandy! I must talk to you! Silence!”
+ Johann tottered to a lounge and dropped on his side.
+
+The woman, still trembling with fright and terror, poured into her palm
+some of the pungent liquid with which she had been bathing her temples,
+and held it under his nose. It revived him. And in a few broken
+sentences he made known to her what had happened.
+
+“Gertrude, I am lost!” He breathed with difficulty. “I have lived like
+a rascal, and I die like one. But I have always loved you; I have always
+been true to you; I have never beaten nor robbed you.” His eyes closed.
+
+“O God,” she cried, “what shall I do? Johann, you must not die! We
+will leave the country together. Johann, you do not speak! Johann!”
+ She kissed him, pressed him in her arms, regardless of the stains which
+these frantic fondlings gathered from his breast. “Johann!”
+
+“Rich,” he said dreamily; “rich... and to die like a dog!”
+
+She left him and rushed to the sideboard, poured out a tumbler of
+brandy, and returned to his side. She raised his head, but he swallowed
+with effort.
+
+“In the lungs,” he said. “God! how it burns! Rich; we are rich,
+Gertrude; a hundred thousand crowns.... And I am dying!... What a
+failure! Curse them all; they never offered to lend a hand unless it led
+toward hell! Gertrude... I must tell you. Here; here, put your hand in
+this pocket; yes. Draw them out... A hundred thousand crowns!”
+
+The woman shuddered. Her hand and what it held were wet with blood.
+
+“Hide them!” And Johann fainted away for the second time. When he came
+to his senses, several minutes had passed. Quickly, with what remaining
+strength he had, he unfolded his plan.
+
+And her one idea was to save him. She drenched her handkerchief with the
+ammonia, and bade him hold it to his nose, while she fetched a basin of
+water and a sponge. Tenderly she drew back his coat and washed the blood
+from his throat and lips, and moistened his hair.
+
+“Listen!” he cried suddenly, rising on his elbow. “It is they! They
+have found me! Quick! to the roof!” He struggled to his feet, with that
+strength which imparts itself to dying men, super-human while it lasts.
+He threw one arm around her neck. “Help me!”
+
+And thus they gained the hall, mounted the flight to the roof, he
+groaning and urging, she sobbing, hysterical, and frenzied. She climbed
+the ladder with him, threw back the trap, and helped him on the roof.
+
+“Now leave me!” he said, kissing her hand.
+
+She gave him her lips, and went down to her rooms, and waited and
+waited. This agony of suspense lasted a quarter of an hour, when again
+came the clatter of hoofs. Would this, too, prove a false alarm? She
+held her hand to her ear. If he were dying... They had stopped; they
+were mounting the stairs; O God, they were beating on the door!
+
+“Open!” cried a voice without; “open in the king's name!”
+
+She gasped, but words would not come. She clenched her hands until the
+nails sank into the flesh.
+
+“Open, Madame, or down comes the door.”
+
+The actress in her came to the rescue. The calm of despair took
+possession of her.
+
+“In a moment, Messieurs,” she said. Her voice was without agitation. She
+opened the door and the cuirassiers pushed past her. “In heaven's name,
+Messieurs, what does this mean?”
+
+“We want Johann Kopf,” was the answer, “and we have it from good
+authority that he is here. Do not interfere with us; you are in no wise
+connected with the affair.”
+
+“He is not here,” she replied. She wondered at herself, her tones were
+so even, her mind was so clear.
+
+One of the cuirassiers caught up her gown. “What's this, Madame?” he
+demanded, pointing to the dark wet stains; “and this?” to her hands,
+“and this?” to the spots on the carpet, the basin and the sponge. “To
+the roof, men; he has gone by the roof! Up with you!”
+
+The ballet dancer held forth her hands in supplication; life forsook her
+limbs; she sank.
+
+The cuirassiers rushed to the roof.... When they came down it was slowly
+and carefully. What they had found on the roof was of no use to them.
+They laid the inanimate thing on the lounge, and frowned. One of the
+cuirassiers lifted the ballet dancer and carried her into her bed-room,
+and laid her on the bed. He had not the heart to revive her. Death
+softens all angers; even an enemy is no longer such when dead. And
+Johann Kopf was dead.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. A COURT FETE AT THE RED CHATEAU
+
+At eight o'clock of the following evening, that is to say, the
+nineteenth of September, Maurice mounted the Thalian pass and left the
+kingdom in the valley behind him. He was weary, dusty, lame and out of
+humor; besides, he had a new weight on his conscience. The night before
+he had taken the life of a man. True, this had happened before, but
+always in warfare. He had killed in a moment of rage and chagrin a
+poor devil who was at most only a puppet. There was small credit in the
+performance. However, the rascal would have suffered death in any event,
+his act being one of high treason.
+
+In the long ride he had made up his mind to lock away forever the silly
+dream, the tender, futile, silly dream. All men die with secrets locked
+in their hearts; thus he, too, would die. His fancy leaped across the
+chasm of intervening years to the day of his death, and the thought
+was a happy one! He smiled sadly, as young men smile when they pity
+themselves. He knew that he would never get over it--in a day. But
+to-morrow, or to-morrow's to-morrow..
+
+He took the pass's decline; the duchy spread away toward the south. A
+quarter of a mile below him he saw the barrack and the customs office
+which belonged to Madame the duchess. The corporal inspected him and
+his papers, spoke lowly to the customs inspector, who returned to his
+office.
+
+“It is all right, Monsieur Carewe,” said the corporal; “I ought to
+recognize the horse a mile away. You will arrive just in time.”
+
+“Just in time for what?”
+
+“Ah, true. Her Highness gives a grand ball at the chateau to-night. The
+court has arrived from Brunnstadt. Some will reside at the chateau, some
+at General Duckwitz's, others at the Countess Herzberg's.”
+
+“Has the duchess arrived at last, then?” was the cynical inquiry.
+
+“She will arrive this evening,” answered the corporal, grinning. “A
+pleasant journey to you.”
+
+Maurice proceeded. “And that blockhead of an Englishman has not tumbled
+yet! The court here? A grand ball? What else can it mean but that Madame
+is celebrating a victory to come? If the archbishop has those consols,
+she will wage war; and this is the prelude.” He jogged along. He had
+accomplished a third of the remaining distance, when he was challenged.
+The sentry came forward and scrutinized the rider.
+
+“O, it is Monsieur Carewe!” he cried in delighted tones. He touched his
+cap and fell back into the shadows.
+
+A mile farther, and the great chateau, scintillating with lights, loomed
+up against the yellow sky. He felt a thrill of excitement. Doubtless
+there would be some bright passages before the night drew to a close. He
+would make furious love to the pretty countess; it would be something in
+the way of relaxation. How would they greet him? What would be Madame's
+future plans in regard to Fitzgerald? How would she get him out of the
+way, now that he had served her purpose? He laughed.
+
+“The future promises much,” he said, half aloud. “I am really glad that
+I came back.”
+
+“Halt!”
+
+Maurice drew up. A sentry stepped out into the road.
+
+“O, it is Monsieur Carewe!” he cried. With a short laugh he disappeared.
+
+“Hang me,” grumbled Maurice as he went on, “these fellows have
+remarkable memories. I can't recollect any of them.” He was mystified.
+
+Shortly he came upon the patrol. The leader ordered him to dismount, an
+order be obeyed willingly, for he was longing to stand again. He shook
+his legs, while the leader struck a match.
+
+“Why, it is Monsieur Carewe!” he cried. “Good! We are coming out to meet
+you. This is a pleasure indeed.”
+
+Maurice gazed keenly into the speaker's face, and to his surprise beheld
+the baron whose arm he had broken a fortnight since. He climbed on his
+horse again.
+
+“I am glad you deem it a pleasure, baron,” he said dryly. “From what you
+imply, I should judge that you were expecting me.”
+
+“Nothing less! Your departure from Bleiberg was known to us as early as
+two o'clock this after-noon,” answered the baron. “Permit us to escort
+you to the chateau before the ladies see you. 'Tis a gala night; we are
+all in our best bib and tucker, as the English say. We believed at one
+time that you were not going to honor us with a second visit. Now
+to dress, both of us; at ten Madame the duchess arrives with General
+Duckwitz and Colonel Mollendorf, who is no relation to the late minister
+of police in Bleiberg.”
+
+Underneath all this Maurice discerned a shade of mockery, and it
+disturbed him.
+
+“First, I should like to know--” he began.
+
+“Later, later!” cried the baron. “The gates are but a dozen rods away.
+To your room first; the rest will follow.”
+
+“The only clothes I have with me are on my back,” said Maurice.
+
+“We shall arrange that. Your guard-hussar uniform has been reserved for
+you, at the suggestion of the Colonel.”
+
+And Maurice grew more and more disturbed.
+
+“Were they courteous to you on the road?”
+
+“Yes. But--”
+
+“Patience! Here we are at the rear gates.”
+
+Maurice found it impossible to draw back; three troopers blocked the
+rear, the baron and another rode at his sides, and four more were in
+advance. The rear gates swung open, and the little troop passed into
+the chateau confines. Maurice snatched a glimpse of the front lawns
+and terraces. The trees and walls were hung with Chinese lanterns;
+gay uniforms and shimmering gowns flitted across his vision. Somewhere
+within the chateau an orchestra was playing the overture from “Linda
+di Chamounix.” Indeed, with all these brave officers, old men in black
+bedecked with ribbons, handsome women in a brilliant sparkle of jewels,
+it had the semblance of a gay court. It was altogether a different scene
+from that which was called the court of Bleiberg. There was no restraint
+here; all was laughter, music, dancing, and wines. The women were young,
+the men were young; old age stood at one side and looked on. And the
+charming Voiture-verse of a countess, Maurice was determined to seek
+her first of all. He vaguely wondered how Fitzgerald would carry himself
+throughout the ordeal.
+
+The troopers dismounted in the courtyard.
+
+“I'm a trifle too stiff to dance,” Maurice innocently acknowledged.
+
+The baron laughed. “You will have to take luck with me in the
+stable-barrack; the chateau is filled. The armory has been turned into a
+ballroom, and the guard out of it.”
+
+“Lead on!” said Maurice.
+
+At the entrance to the guardroom, which occupied the left wing of the
+stables, stood a Lieutenant of the hussars.
+
+“This is Monsieur Carewe,” said the baron, “who will occupy a corner in
+the guardroom.”
+
+“Ah! Monsieur Carewe,” waving his hand cavalierly; “happy to see you
+again.”
+
+Maurice was growing weary of his name.
+
+“Enter,” said the baron, opening the door.
+
+Maurice entered, but not without suspicion. However, he was in a hurry
+to mingle with the gay assembly in the chateau. But that body was doomed
+to proceed without the honor or the knowledge of his distinguished
+presence. Several troopers were lounging about. At the sight of the
+baron they rose.
+
+“Messieurs,” he said, “this is Monsieur Carewe, who was expected.”
+
+“Glad to see you!” they sang out in chorus. They bowed ironically.
+
+Maurice gazed toward the door. As he did so four pairs of arms enveloped
+him, and before he could offer the slightest resistance, he was bound
+hand and foot, a scarf was tied over his mouth, and he was pushed most
+disrespectfully into a chair. The baron's mouth was twisted out of
+shape, and the troopers were smiling.
+
+“My faith! but this is the drollest affair I ever was in;” and the baron
+sat on the edge of the table and held his sides. “Monsieur Carewe! Ha!
+ha! You are a little too stiff to dance, eh? Shall I tender your excuses
+to the ladies? Ass! did you dream for a moment that such canaille as
+you, might show your countenance to any save the scullery maids? Too
+stiff to dance! Ye gods, but that was rich! And you had the audacity
+to return here! I must go; the thing is killing me.” He slipped off the
+table, red in the face and choking. “The telegraph has its uses; it came
+ahead of you. We trembled for fear you would not come! Men, guard him
+as your lives, while I report to Madame, I dare say she will make it
+droller in the telling.”
+
+He stepped to the door, turned, looking into the prisoner's glaring
+eyes; he doubled up again. “We are quits; I forgive you the broken
+arm; this laugh will repay me. How Madame the countess will laugh! And
+Duckwitz--the General will die of apoplexy! O, but you are a sorry ass;
+and how neatly we have clipped your ears!” And into the corridor he
+went, still laughing, heartily and joyously, as if what had taken place
+was one of the finest jests in the world.
+
+Maurice, white and furious, was positive that he never would laugh
+again. And the most painful thought was that his honesty had brought him
+to this pass--or, was it his curiosity?
+
+* * * * *
+
+Fitzgerald stood alone in the library. The music of a Strauss waltz came
+indistinctly to him. He was troubled, and the speech of it lay in his
+eyes. From time to time he drummed on the window sill, and followed with
+his gaze the shadowy forms on the lawns. He was not a part of this fairy
+scene. He was out of place. So many young and beautiful women eyeing him
+curiously confused him. In every glance he innocently read his disgrace.
+
+At Madame's request he had dressed himself in the uniform of a
+Lieutenant-Colonel, which showed how deeply he was in the toils.
+Though it emphasized the elegant proportions of his figure, it sat
+uncomfortably upon him. His vanity was not equal to his sense of guilt.
+The uniform was a livery of dishonor. He could not distort it into a
+virtue, try as he would. He lacked that cunning artifice which a man of
+the world possesses, that of winning over to the right a misdeed.
+
+And Carewe, on whose honesty he would have staked his life, Carewe had
+betrayed him. Why, he could not conceive. He saw how frail his house
+of love was. A breath and it was gone. What he had until to-day deemed
+special favors were favors common to all these military dandies. They,
+too, could kiss Madame's hand, and he could do no more. And yet she held
+him. Did she love him? He could not tell. All he knew was that it was
+impossible not to love her. And to-night he witnessed the culmination
+of the woman beautiful, and it dazzled him, filled him with fears and
+oppressions.... To bind her hand and foot, to carry her by force to the
+altar, if need; to call her his in spite of all.
+
+If she were playing with him, making a ball of his heart and her fancy
+a cup, she knew not of the slumbering lion within. He himself was but
+dimly conscious of it. Princess? That did not matter. Since that morning
+the veil had fallen from his eyes, but he had said nothing; he was
+waiting for her to speak. Would she laugh at him? No, no! The knowledge
+that had come to him had transformed wax into iron. Princess? She was
+the woman who had promised to be his wife.
+
+Only two candles burned on the mantel-piece. The library was a room
+apart from the festivities. A soft, rose-colored darkness pervaded the
+room. Presently a darker shadow tiptoed over the threshold. He turned,
+and the shadow approached. Madame's gray eyes, full of lambent fires,
+looked into his own.
+
+“I was seeking you,” she said. The jewels in her hair threw a kind of
+halo above her head.
+
+“Have I the happiness to be necessary to you?” he asked.
+
+“You have not been enjoying yourself.”
+
+“No, Madame; my conscience is, unhappily, too green.” He turned to the
+window again for fear he would lose control of himself.
+
+“I have a confession to make to you,” she said humbly. How broad his
+shoulders were, was her thought.
+
+“It can not concern me,” he replied.
+
+“How?”
+
+“There is only one confession which I care to hear. You made it once,
+though you are not willing to repeat it. But I have your word, Sylvia;
+I am content. Not all the world could make me believe that you would
+willingly retract that word.”
+
+Her name, for the first time coming from his lips, caused her to start.
+She sent him a penetrating glance, but it broke on a face immobile as
+marble.
+
+“I do not recollect granting you permission to use my given name,” she
+said.
+
+“O, that was before the world. But alone, alone as we are, you and I,
+it is different.” The smile which accompanied these words was frankness
+itself, but it did not deceive Madame, who read his eyes too well. “Ah,
+but the crumbs you give this love of mine are so few!” “You are the only
+man in the world permitted to avow love to me. You have kissed my hand.”
+
+“A privilege which seems extended to all.”
+
+Madame colored, but there was not light enough for him to perceive it.
+
+“The hand you kissed is the hand of the woman; others kiss it to pay
+homage. Monsieur, forgive me for having deceived you, you were so easy
+to deceive.” His eyes met hers steadily.
+
+“I am not Madame simply. I am Stephonia Sylvia Auersperg; the name I
+assumed was my mother's.” His lack of surprise alarmed her.
+
+“I am well aware of that,” he said. “You are the duchess.”
+
+Something in his tone warned her of a crisis, and she put forth her
+cunning to avert it. “And, you--you will not love me less?” her voice
+vibrant as the string of a viol. “I am a princess, but yet a woman. In
+me there are two, the woman and the princess. The princess is proud and
+ambitious; to gain her ends she stops at nothing. As a princess she may
+stoop to trickery and deceit, and step back untouched. But the woman-ah,
+well; for this fortnight I have been most of all the woman.”
+
+“And all this to me-is a preamble to my dismissal, since my promise
+remains unfulfilled? Madame, do not think that because fate has willed
+that my promise should become void, that my conscience acquits me of
+dishonor. For love of you I have thrown honor to the winds. But do I
+regret it? No. For I am mad, and being mad, I am not capable of reason.
+I have broken all those ties which bind a man's respect to himself.
+I have burned all bridges, but I laugh at that. It is only with the
+knowledge that your love is mine that I can hold high my head.
+
+“As the princess in you is proud, so is the man in me. A princess? That
+is nothing; I love you. Were you the empress of all the Russias, the
+most unapproachable woman in the world, I should not hesitate to profess
+my love, to find some means of declaring it to you. I love you. To what
+further depths can I fall to prove it?” Again he sought the window, and
+leaned heavily on the sill. He waited, as a man waits for an expected
+blow.
+
+As she listened a delicious sensation swept through her heart, a
+sensation elusive and intangible. She surrendered without question. At
+this moment the Eve in her evaded all questions. Here was a man. The
+mood which seized her was as novel as this love which asked nothing but
+love, and the willingness to pay any price; and the desire to test both
+mood and love to their full strength was irresistible. She was loved for
+herself alone; hitherto men had loved the woman less and the princess
+more. To surrender to both mood and love, if only for an hour or a day,
+to see to what length this man would go at a sign from her.
+
+He was almost her equal in birth; his house was nearly if not quite as
+old and honored as her own; in his world he stood as high as she stood
+in hers. She had never committed an indiscretion; passion had never
+swayed her; until now she had lived by calculation. As she looked at
+him, she knew that in all her wide demesne no soldier could stand before
+him and look straight into his eyes. So deep and honest a book it was,
+so easily readable, that she must turn to its final pages. Love him? No.
+Be his wife? No. She recognized that it was the feline instinct to play
+which dominated her. Consequences? Therein lay the charm of it.
+
+“Patience, Monsieur,” she said. “Did I promise to be your wife? Did
+I say that I loved you? _Eh, bien_, the woman, not the princess, made
+those vows. I am mistress not only of my duchy, but of my heart.” She
+ceased and regarded him with watchful eyes. He did not turn. “Look at
+me, John!” The voice was of such winning sweetness that St. Anthony
+himself, had he heard it, must have turned. “Look at me and see if I am
+more a princess than a woman.”
+
+He wheeled swiftly. She was leaning toward him, her face was upturned.
+No jewel in her hair was half so lustrous as her eyes. From the threaded
+ruddy ore of her hair rose a perfume like the fabulous myrrhs of
+Olympus. Her lips were a cup of wine, and her eyes bade him drink,
+and the taste of that wine haunted him as long as he lived. He made as
+though to drain the cup, but Madame pushed down his arms, uttered a low,
+puzzled laugh, and vanished from the room. He was lost! He knew it; yet
+he did not care. He threw out his arms, dropped them, and settled his
+shoulders. A smile, a warm, contented smile, came into his face and
+dwelt there. For another such kiss he would have bartered eternity.
+
+And Madame? Who can say?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. IN WHICH MAURICE RECURS TO OFFENBACH
+
+Midnight; the music had ceased, and the yellow and scarlet lanterns had
+been plucked from the autumnal hangings. The laughing, smiling, dancing
+women, like so many Cinderellas, had disappeared, and with them the
+sparkle of jewels; and the gallant officers had ridden away to the
+jingle of bit and spur. Throughout the courtly revel all faces had
+revealed, besides the happiness and lightness of spirit, a suppressed
+eagerness for something yet to come, an event surpassing any they had
+yet known.
+
+Promptly at midnight Madame herself had dropped the curtains on the gay
+scene because she had urgent need of all her military household at dawn,
+when a picture, far different from that which had just been painted, was
+to be limned on the broad canvas of her dreams. Darkness and quiet had
+fallen on the castle, and the gray moon film lay on terrace and turret
+and tile.
+
+In the guardroom, Maurice, his hands and feet still in pressing cords,
+dozed in his chair. He had ceased to combat drowsiness. He was worn out
+with his long ride, together with the chase of the night before; and
+since a trooper had relieved his mouth of the scarf so that he could
+breathe, he cared not what the future held, if only he might sleep.
+It took him a long time to arrive at the angle of comfort; this
+accomplished, he drifted into smooth waters. The troopers who
+constituted his guard played cards at a long table, in the center of
+which were stuck half a dozen bayonets, which served as candlesticks.
+They laughed loudly, thumped the board, and sometimes sang. No one
+bothered himself about the prisoner, who might have slept till the crack
+of doom, as far as they were concerned.
+
+Shortly before the new hour struck, the door opened and shut. A trooper
+shook the sleeper by the sleeve. Maurice awoke with a start and gazed
+about, blinking his eyes. Before him he discovered Madame the duchess,
+Fitzgerald and Mollendorf, behind whom stood the Voiture-verse of a
+countess. The languor forsook him and he pulled himself together and
+sat as upright as his bonds would permit him. Something interesting was
+about to take place.
+
+Madame made a gesture which the troopers comprehended, and they
+departed. Fitzgerald, with gloomy eyes, folded his arms across his
+breast, and with one hand curled and uncurled the drooping ends of his
+mustache; the Colonel frowned and rubbed the gray bristles on his upper
+lip; the countess twisted and untwisted her handkerchief; Madame alone
+evinced no agitation, unless the perpendicular line above her nose could
+have been a sign of such. This lengthened and deepened as her glance met
+the prisoner's.
+
+He eyed them all with an indifference which was tinctured with contempt
+and amusement.
+
+“Well, Monsieur Carewe,” said Madame, coldly, “what have you to say?”
+
+“A number of things, Madame,” he answered, in a tone which bordered the
+insolent; “only they would not be quite proper for you to hear.”
+
+The Colonel's hand slid from his lip over his mouth; he shuffled his
+feet and stared at the bayonets and the grease spots on the table.
+
+“Carewe,” said Fitzgerald, endeavoring to speak calmly, “you have broken
+your word to me as a gentleman and you have lied to me.”
+
+The reply was an expressive monosyllable, “O!”
+
+“Do you deny it?” demanded the Englishman.
+
+“Deny what?” asked Maurice.
+
+“The archbishop,” said Madame, “assumed the aggressive last night. To be
+aggressive one must possess strength. Monsieur, how much did he pay for
+those consols? Come, tell me; was he liberal? It is evident that you are
+not a man of business. I should have been willing to pay as much as
+a hundred thousand crowns. Come; acknowledge that you have made a bad
+stroke.” She bent her head to one side, and a derisive smile lifted the
+corners of her lips.
+
+A dull red flooded the prisoner's cheeks. “I do not understand you.”
+
+“You lie!” Fitzgerald stepped closer and his hands closed menacingly.
+
+“Thank you,” said Maurice, “thank you. But why not complete the
+melodrama by striking, since you have doubled your fists?”
+
+Fitzgerald glared at him.
+
+“Monsieur,” interposed the countess, “do not forget that you are a
+gentleman; Monsieur Carewe's hands are tied.”
+
+“Unfortunately,” observed Maurice.
+
+Madame looked curiously at the countess, while Fitzgerald drew back to
+the table and rested on it.
+
+“I can not comprehend how you dared return,” Madame resumed. “One who
+watches over my affairs has informed me of your dishonorable act.”
+
+“What do you call a dishonorable act?” Maurice inquired quietly.
+
+“One who breaks his sacred promise!” quickly.
+
+The prisoner laughed maliciously. Madame had answered the question as he
+hoped she would. “Chickens come home to roost. What do you say to that,
+my lord?” to the Englishman.
+
+This time it was not the prisoner's cheeks which reddened. Even Madame
+was forced to look away, for if this reply touched the Englishman it
+certainly touched her as deeply. Incidentally, she was asking herself
+why she had permitted the Englishman to possess her lips, hers, which no
+man save her father had ever possessed before. A kiss, that was all it
+had been, yet the memory of it was persistent, annoying, embarrassing.
+In the spirit of play--a spirit whose origin mystified her--she had
+given the man something which she never could regain, a particle of her
+pride.
+
+Besides, this was not all; she had in that moment given up her right to
+laugh at him when the time came; now she would not be able to laugh. She
+regretted the folly, and bit her lip at the thought of it. Consequences
+she had laughed at; now their possibilities disturbed her. She had
+been guilty of an indiscretion. The fact that the Englishman had ruined
+himself at her beck did not enter her mind. The hour for that had not
+yet arrived.
+
+Seeing that his neat barb had left them all without answer, Maurice
+said: “Doubtless the informant who watches over your interests and
+various other interests of which you have no inkling, was the late
+Colonel Beauvais? For my part, I wish it was the late Beauvais in the
+sense in which we refer to the departed ones. But let us give him
+his true name--Prince Konrad, the last of the Walmodens, a cashiered
+gamester.”
+
+Only Fitzgerald showed any surprise. Maurice once saw that the others
+were in the secret. They knew the Colonel. Did they know why he was
+in Bleiberg? Let them find it out for themselves. He would not lift a
+finger to aid them. He leaned back and yawned.
+
+“Pardon me,” he said, with mock politeness, “but my hands are tied, and
+the truth is, I am sleepy.”
+
+“Count,” said Madame, “release him. He will be too well guarded to fear
+his escaping.”
+
+The Colonel performed this service with alacrity. He honestly admired
+the young fellow who so seldom lost his temper. Besides, he had a
+sneaking idea that the lad was being unjustly accused.
+
+Maurice got up and stretched himself. He rubbed his wrists, then sat
+down and waited for the comedy to proceed.
+
+“So you confess,” said Madame, “that you sold the consols to the
+archbishop?”
+
+“I, confess?” Maurice screwed up his lips and began to whistle softly:
+
+“Voici le sabre de mon Pere.”
+
+“You deny, then?” Madame was fast losing patience, a grave mistake when
+one is dealing with a banterer.
+
+Maurice changed the tune:
+
+“J'aime les militaires, Leur uniforme coquet, Leur moustache et leur
+plumet--”
+
+“Answer!” with a stamp of the foot.
+
+“Je sais ce que je voudrais, Je voudrais etre cantiniere!”...
+
+“Monsieur,” said the pretty countess, after a furtive glance at Madame's
+stormy eyes, “do you deny?”
+
+The whistle ceased. “Madame, to you I shall say that I neither deny nor
+affirm. The affair is altogether too ridiculous to treat seriously. I
+have nothing to say.” The whistle picked up the thread again.
+
+Doubt began to stir in the eyes of the Englishman. He looked at Madame
+with a kind of indecision, to find that she was glancing covertly at
+him. His gaze finally rested on Maurice, who had crossed his legs and
+was keeping time to the music with his foot. Indeed, these were not the
+violent protestations of innocence he had looked for. This demeanor was
+not at all in accord with his expectations. Now that he had possessed
+Madame's lips (though she might never possess the consols), Maurice did
+not appear so guilty.
+
+“Carewe,” he said, “you have deceived me from the start.”
+
+“Ah! c'est un fameux regiment, Le regiment de la Grande Duchesse!”
+
+“You knew that Madame was her Highness,” went on the Englishman, “and
+yet you kept that a secret from me. Can you blame me if I doubt you in
+other respects?”
+
+“Sonnez donc la trompette, Et battez les tambours!”
+
+And the warbler nodded significantly at Madame, whose frown grew still
+darker.
+
+“Eh! Monsieur,” cried the Colonel, with a protesting hand, “you are out
+of tune!”
+
+“I should like to know why you returned here,” said Madame. “Either you
+have some plan, or your audacity has no bounds.”
+
+The whistle stopped again. “Madame, for once we agree. I, too, should
+like to know why I returned here.”
+
+“Carewe,” said Fitzgerald, “if you will give me your word--”
+
+“Do not waste your breath, Monsieur,” interrupted Madame.
+
+“Will you give me your word?” persisted Fitzgerald, refusing to see the
+warning in Madame's eyes.
+
+“I will give you nothing, my lord; nothing. I have said that I will
+answer neither one way nor the other. The accusation is too absurd. Now,
+Madame, what is your pleasure in regard to my disposition?”
+
+“You are to be locked up, Monsieur,” tartly. “You are too inquisitive to
+remain at large.”
+
+“My confinement will be of short duration,” confidently.
+
+“It rests with my pleasure alone.”
+
+“Pardon me if I contradict your Highness. I returned here incidentally
+as a representative of the British ambassador in Vienna; I volunteered
+this office at the request of my own minister.”
+
+A shade of consternation came into the faces of his audience.
+
+“If nothing is heard of me within two days, an investigation will ensue.
+It is very droll, but I am here to inquire into the whereabouts of one
+Lord Fitzgerald, who has disappeared. Telegrams to the four ends of
+the world have brought no news of his present residence. The archbishop
+instituted the latter inquiries, because it was urgent and necessary he
+should know.”
+
+Fitzgerald became enveloped in gloom.
+
+“And your credentials, Monsieur?” said the duchess. “You have them, I
+presume?”
+
+“I came as a private gentleman; a telegram to my minister in Vienna will
+bring indorsement.”
+
+“Ah! Then you shall be locked up. I can not accord you recognition;
+without the essential representations, I see nothing in you but
+an impertinent meddler. To-morrow evening you shall be conveyed to
+Brunnstadt, where you will reside for some time, I can assure you.
+Perhaps on your head will rest the blood of many gallant gentlemen; for
+within another twenty-four hours I shall declare war against Leopold.
+This will be the consequence of your disloyalty to your word.” And she
+moved toward the door, the others imitating her. Fitzgerald, more than
+any one else, desired to get away.
+
+And one by one they vanished. Once the countess turned and threw
+Maurice a glance which mystified him; it was half curtained with tears.
+Presently he was alone. His eye grasped every object. There was not a
+weapon in sight; only the bayonets on the table, and he could scarcely
+hope to escape by use of one of these. A carafe of water stood on the
+table. He went to it and half emptied it. His back was toward the door.
+Suddenly it opened. He wheeled, expecting to see the troopers. His
+surprise was great. Beauvais was leaning against the door, a half
+humorous smile on his lips. The tableau lasted several minutes.
+
+“Well,” said Beauvais, “you do not seem very glad to see me.”
+
+Maurice remained silent, and continued to gaze at his enemy over the
+tops of the upturned bayonets.
+
+“You are, as I said before, a very young man.”
+
+“I killed a puppet of yours last night,” replied Maurice, with a
+peculiar grimness.
+
+“Eh? So it was you? However, Kopf knew too much; he is dead, thanks to
+your service. After all, it was a stroke of war; the princess, whose
+little rose you have, was to have been a hostage.”
+
+“If she had refused to be a wife,” Maurice replied.
+
+Beauvais curled his mustache.
+
+“I know a good deal more than Kopf.”
+
+“You do, certainly; but you are at a convenient nearness. What you know
+will be of no use to you. Let us sit down.”
+
+“I prefer to stand. The honor you do me is too delicate.”
+
+“O, you may have no fear.”
+
+“I have none--so long as my back isn't turned toward you.”
+
+Beauvais passed over this. “You are a very good blade; you handle a
+sword well. That is a compliment, considering that I am held as the
+first blade in the kingdom. It was only to-day I learned that formerly
+you had been a cavalryman in America. You have the making of a soldier.”
+
+Maurice bowed, his hand resting near one of the bayonets.
+
+“You are also a soldier of fortune-like myself. You made a good stroke
+with the archbishop. You hoodwinked us all.”
+
+Maurice did not reply.
+
+“Very well; we shall not dwell on it. You are discreet.”
+
+Maurice saw that Beauvais was speaking in good faith.
+
+“You have something to say; come to it at once, for it is trying to
+watch you so closely.”
+
+“I will give you--” He hesitated and scratched his chin. “I will give you
+ten thousand crowns as the price of your silence in regard to the South
+American affair.”
+
+A sardonic laugh greeted this proposal. “I did not know that you were so
+cheap. But it is too late.”
+
+“Too late?”
+
+“Doubtless, since by this time the authorities are in possession of the
+interesting facts.”
+
+“I beg to differ from you.”
+
+“Do as you please,” said Maurice, triumphantly. “I sent an account of
+your former exploits both to my own government and to the one which you
+so treacherously betrayed. One or the other will not fail to reach.”
+
+“I am perfectly well aware of that,” Beauvais smiled. He reached into
+a pocket, and for a moment Maurice expected to see a pistol come forth.
+But he was needlessly alarmed. Beauvais extracted two envelopes from the
+pocket and sailed them through the intervening space. They fell on
+the table. “Put not your trust in hotel clerks,” was the sententious
+observation. “At least, till you have discovered that no one else
+employs them. I am well served. The clerk was told to intercept your
+outgoing post; and there is the evidence. Ten thousand crowns and a safe
+conduct.”
+
+Maurice picked up the letters mechanically. They were his; the stamps
+were not canceled, but the flaps were slit. He turned them this way and
+that, bewildered. He was convinced that he could in no way cope with
+this man of curious industries, this man who seemed to have a key for
+every lock, and whom nothing escaped. And the wise old Marshal had
+permitted him to leave the kingdom without let or hindrance. Perhaps the
+Marshal understood that Beauvais was a sort of powder train, and that
+the farther he was away from the mine the better for all concerned.
+
+“You are a great rascal,” Maurice said finally.
+
+“We will waive that point. The matter at present is, how much will it
+take to buy your silence for the future?”
+
+“And I am sorry I did not kill you when I had the chance,” continued
+Maurice, as if following a train of thought.
+
+“We never realize how great the opportunity is till it has passed beyond
+our reach. Well, how much?”
+
+“I am not in need of money.”
+
+“To be sure; I forgot. But the archbishop could not have given you a
+competence for life.”
+
+“I choked a few facts out of Kopf,” said Maurice. “You will wear no
+crown--that is, earthly.”
+
+“And your heavenly one is near at hand,” rejoined Beauvais.
+
+Maurice absently fingered a bayonet.
+
+“You refuse this conciliation on my part?” asked Beauvais.
+
+“Positively.”
+
+“Well, then, if anything happens to you, you will have only yourself to
+blame. I will leave you to digest that suggestion. Your life hangs in
+the balance. I will give you till to-morrow morning to make up your
+mind.”
+
+“Go to the devil!”
+
+“In that, I shall offer you the precedence.” And Beauvais backed out;
+backed out because Maurice had wrenched loose one of the bayonets.
+
+Maurice flung the bayonet across the room, went back to his chair, and
+tore his ill-fated letters into ribbons. When this was done he stared
+moodily at the impromptu candlesticks, and tried to conceive the manner
+in which Beauvais's threat would materialize.
+
+When the troops returned to their watch, they found the prisoner in a
+recumbent position, staring at the cracks in the floor, oblivious to
+all else save his thoughts, which were by no means charitable or humane.
+They resumed their game of cards. At length Maurice fell into a light
+slumber. The next time he opened his eyes it was because of a peculiar
+jar, which continued; a familiar, monotonous jar, such as the tread of
+feet on the earth creates. Tramp, tramp, tramp; it was a large body
+of men on the march. Soon this was followed by a lighter and
+noisier sound--cavalry. Finally, there came the rumbling of heavy
+metal--artillery. More than an hour passed before these varying sounds
+grew indistinct.
+
+Maurice was now fully awake. An army had passed the Red Chateau.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. A GAME OF POKER AND THE STAKES
+
+The next morning Beauvais came for his answer. It was not the answer he
+had expected.
+
+“So be it,” he replied. “Your government had better appoint your
+successor at once. Good morning.”
+
+“You will die suddenly some day,” said Maurice.
+
+Beauvais shrugged, and departed.
+
+It was a dreary long day for the prisoner, who saw no one but his
+jailers. He wondered what time they would start for Brunnstadt. He had
+never seen Brunnstadt. He hoped the city would interest him. Was he to
+be disposed of on the road? No, that would scarcely be; there were too
+many witnesses. In the city prison, then; that was possible. The outlook
+was not rose-colored. He set to work to challenge each of his jailers,
+but this did not serve. At five o'clock the bluff old Colonel Mollendorf
+came in. He dismissed the troopers, who were glad enough to be relieved.
+
+“I'll be responsible for the prisoner from now on,” he said. As soon
+as he and Maurice were alone he propped his chin and contemplated the
+sullen face of the prisoner. “Well, my son, I am positive that you have
+been accused somewhat hastily, but that's the way women have, jumping
+at conclusions before they read the preface. But you must give Madame
+credit for being honest in the matter, as well as the others. Beauvais
+is positive that the move of the archbishop is due to your selling out
+to him. Come, tell me the story. If you wish, I'll promise not to repeat
+it. Madame is determined to lock you up in any event.”
+
+There was something so likable about the old warrior that Maurice
+relented.
+
+“There was nothing in the gun-barrels,” he said. “Some one had entered
+that room before me. I thought at first that Beauvais had them; but he
+is the last man in the world to dispose of them to the prelate. But
+has the archbishop got them? I wish I knew. That's all there is to the
+story.”
+
+“And her Royal Highness's dog?” slyly.
+
+“What! Did you hear about that?” Maurice flushed.
+
+“There is little going on in Bleiberg that we don't hear about. The
+princess is charming. Poor girl!”
+
+“Madame's victory will have a strange odor. Can she not let the king die
+in peace?”
+
+“My son, she dares not. If that throne were vacant of a king--Let us not
+talk politics.”
+
+“Madame has no love for me,” said Maurice.
+
+“Madame has no love for any one, if that will give you any
+satisfaction.”
+
+“It does. My lord the Englishman came near striking me last night.”
+
+“I would not lay that up against him. Madame was the power behind the
+throne.”
+
+“And the impulse behind Madame?” smiling.
+
+“You are the only man who has ever crossed Madame's path; she can not
+forget it.”
+
+“And she has put me in a bad light, as far as Fitzgerald is concerned. A
+man will believe anything a woman says to him, if he loves her.”
+
+“Let us avoid dissertations.”
+
+“What do you want to talk about?”
+
+“Yourself; you are interesting, entertaining, and instructive,” the
+Colonel answered, laughing. “I never ran across an American who wasn't,
+and I have met a number. What have you done to Beauvais?”
+
+“It is not exactly what I've done; it is what I know.”
+
+“What do you know?”
+
+Maurice repeated the story.
+
+“And you bested him at the rapiers?” in astonishment.
+
+“Is there anything startling about it?” asked Maurice.
+
+“He has no match hereabout.” The Colonel looked across the table at the
+smooth-faced boy--he was scarcely else--and reflected. “Why did you give
+up the army?”
+
+“The army in America doesn't run to good clothes; the officers have to
+work harder than the privates, and, save in Washington, their social
+status is nil. Besides, there is too much fighting going on all the
+time. Here, an officer is always on dress parade.”
+
+“Still, we are always ready. In the past we show up pretty well in
+history. But to return to Beauvais, it is very embarrassing, very.”
+
+“It will be for him, if I live long enough.”
+
+“Eh?”
+
+“Beauvais has promised to push me off the board, to use his own words. I
+am wondering how he will do it.”
+
+“Don't let that disturb you; he will do nothing--now. Well, well; it is
+all a sorry game; and I find that making history has its disadvantages.
+But I have dandled Madame as a child on my knee, and her wish is law;
+wherever her fortunes lead, I must follow. She will win; she can not
+help winning. But I pity that poor devil of a king, who, they say, is
+now bereft of speech. Ah, had he been a man, I could have gone into this
+heart and soul.”
+
+“He is on his deathbed. And his daughter, God knows what is in store for
+her. Prince Frederick is dallying with his peasant girl. The day for
+the wedding has come and gone, unless he turned up to-day, which is not
+likely.”
+
+“Which is not likely indeed,” repeated the Colonel sadly. He pulled out
+his pipe, and smoked for a time. “But let us not judge harshly, says
+the Book. There may be circumstances over which Prince Frederick has no
+control. I suppose your sympathies are on the other side of the path.
+Youth is always quick and generous; it never stops to weigh causes or
+to reason why. And strange, its judgment is almost always unerring. I am
+going to share my dinner with you to-night. I'll try to brighten you up
+a bit.”
+
+“Thanks.”
+
+“Then after dinner we'll play poker until they come to take you to
+Brunnstadt.”
+
+“What sort of a city is it?”
+
+“You will not see much of it; so I will not take the trouble to tell you
+that it is slightly inferior to Bleiberg.”
+
+Sure enough, when the dark of evening fell, two servants entered with
+trays and baskets, and proceeded to lay the table. They put new candles
+in the bayonets.
+
+“Ha!” said the Colonel; “you have forgotten the wine, rascals!”
+
+“Bring a dozen bottles,” Maurice suggested, having an idea in mind.
+
+“Eh?”
+
+“Remember, Colonel, I've been a soldier and a journalist in a country
+where they only wash with water. In the summer we have whisky iced,
+in the winter we have it hot; an antidote for both heat and cold. Ah,
+Colonel, if you only might sniff a mint julep!”
+
+“A dozen bottles, then,” said the Colonel to the servants, who retired
+to execute the order.
+
+“How old will it be?” asked Maurice.
+
+“Twice your age, my son. But do not make any miscalculation about my
+capacity for tokayer.”
+
+“Any miscalculation?” Maurice echoed.
+
+“Yes; if you plan to get me drunk. There are no troopers about, and it
+would be easy enough for you to slip out if I should lose my head.”
+
+Maurice's laugh had a false ring to it. The Colonel had made a very
+shrewd guess.
+
+“Well!” said the Colonel, with a gesture toward the table.
+
+They sat down, and both made an excellent dinner. Maurice demolished
+a roasted pheasant, stuffed with chestnuts, while the Colonel
+disintegrated a duck. The wine came, and the servants ranged six bottles
+on the side of each plate. It was done so gravely that Maurice laughed
+heartily. The wine was the oldest in Madame's cellar, and Maurice
+wondered at the Colonel's temerity in selecting it. The bottles were of
+thick glass, fat-bottomed, and ungainly, and Maurice figured that there
+was more than a pint in each. It possessed a delicious bouquet. The
+Colonel emptied three bottles, with no more effect than if the wine had
+been water. Maurice did not appreciate this feat until he had himself
+emptied a bottle. It was then he saw that the boot was likely to be on
+the other foot.
+
+He looked at the Colonel enviously; the old soldier was a gulf. He
+had miscalculated, indeed. But he was fertile in plans, and a more
+reasonable one occurred to him. He drank another bottle and began to
+talk verbosely. Later he grew confidential. He told the Colonel a great
+many things which--had never happened, things impossible and improbable.
+The Colonel listened soberly, and nodded now and again. Dinner past,
+they pushed the remains aside and began to play poker, a game at which
+the Colonel proved to be no novice, much to Maurice's wonder.
+
+“Why, you know the game as thoroughly as an Arizona corporal.”
+
+“I generally spend a month of the winter in Vienna. One of your
+compatriots taught me the interesting game.” The Colonel shuffled the
+cards. “It is the great American game, so I am told.”
+
+“O, they play checkers in the New England states,” said Maurice,
+hiccoughing slightly. “But out west and in all the great cities poker
+has the way.”
+
+“What have you got?” asked the Colonel, answering a call.
+
+“Jacks full.”
+
+“Takes the pot;” and this Americanism came so naturally that Maurice
+roared.
+
+“Poker is a great preliminary study to diplomacy,” said the Colonel, as
+he scrutinized his hand. “You raise it?”
+
+“Yes. One card. Diplomacy? So it is. I played a game with the Chinese
+ambassador in Washington one night. I was teaching him how to play. I
+lost all the ready money I had with me. Next day I found out that he
+was the shrewdest player in the diplomatic circles. Let's make it a
+jackpot.”
+
+“All the same to me.”
+
+And the game went on. Presently Maurice threw aside his coat. He was
+feeling the warmth of the wine, but he opened another bottle.
+
+“Is there any truth,” said the Colonel, “about your shooting a man who
+is found cheating in your country?”
+
+“There is, if you can draw quicker than he.” Maurice glanced at his hand
+and threw it down.
+
+“What did you have?”
+
+“Nothing. I was trying to fill a straight.”
+
+“So was I,” said the Colonel, sweeping the board. “It's your deal.” He
+unbottoned his coat.
+
+Maurice felt a shiver of delight. Sticking out of the Colonel's belt was
+the ebony handle of a cavalry revolver, and he made up his mind to get
+it. There were no troopers around--the Colonel had admitted as much. He
+began talking rapidly, sometimes incoherently. In a corner of the room
+he saw the cords which had been around his wrists and ankles the night
+before.
+
+“Poker,” said the Colonel, “depends mostly on what you Americans call
+bluff. A bluff, as I understand it, is making the others think you have
+them when you haven't, or you haven't got them when you have. In one
+case you scare them, in the other you fish. You're getting flushed, my
+son; you'll have a headache to-night; and in an hour you start.”
+
+An hour! There was fever in Maurice's veins, but it was not caused
+wholly by the heat of the wine. How should he manage it? He must have
+that revolver.
+
+“Call? What have you got?” asked the Colonel.
+
+“Three kings--no, by George! only a pair. I thought a queen was a
+king. My head's beginning to get shaky. Colonel, I believe I am getting
+drunk.”
+
+“I am sure of it.”
+
+Maurice got up and rolled in an extraordinary fashion, but he was
+careful not to overdo it. He began to sing. The Colonel got up, too, and
+he was laughing. Maurice accidentally knocked over some empty bottles;
+he kicked them about.
+
+“Sh!” cried the Colonel, coming around the table; “you'll stampede the
+horses.”
+
+Maurice staggered toward him, and the Colonel caught him in his arms.
+Maurice suddenly drew back, and the Colonel found himself looking into
+the cavernous tube of his own revolver. Not a muscle in his face moved.
+
+“Take off your coat,” said Maurice, quietly.
+
+The Colonel complied. “You are not so very drunk just now.”
+
+“No. It was one of those bluffs when you make them think you haven't
+them when you have.”
+
+“What next?” asked the Colonel.
+
+“Those cords in the corner.”
+
+The Colonel picked them up, sat down and gravely tied one around
+his ankles. Maurice watched him curiously. The old fellow was rather
+agreeable, he thought.
+
+“Now,” the Colonel inquired calmly, “how are you going to tie my hands?
+Can you hold the revolver in one hand and tie with the other?”
+
+“Hang me!” exclaimed Maurice, finding himself brought to a halt.
+
+“My son,” said the Colonel, “you are clever. In fact, you are one of
+those fellows who grow to be great. You never miss an opportunity, and
+more often than not you invent opportunities, which is better still. The
+truth is, you have proceeded exactly on the lines I thought you would;
+and thereby you have saved me the trouble of lying or having it out with
+Madame. I am a victim, not an accomplice; I was forced at the point of a
+revolver; I had nothing to say. If I had really been careless you would
+have accomplished the feat just the same. For it was easily accomplished
+you will admit. 'Tis true I knew you were acting because I expected you
+to act. All this preamble puzzles you.”
+
+Certainly Maurice's countenance expressed nothing less than perplexity.
+He stepped back a few paces.
+
+“You have,” continued the Colonel, “perhaps three-quarters of an hour.
+You will be able to get out of here. You will have to depend on your
+resources to cross the frontier.”
+
+“Would you just as soon explain to me--”
+
+“It means that a certain young lady, like myself, believes in your
+innocence.”
+
+“The countess?” Maurice cried eagerly, remembering the look of the night
+before and the tears which were in it.
+
+“I will not mention any names. Suffice it to say that it was due to her
+pleading that I consented to play poker--and to let you fall into my
+arms. Come, to work,” holding out his hands.
+
+First Maurice clasped the hand and wrung it. “Colonel, I do not want you
+to get into trouble on my account--”
+
+“Go along with you! If you were really important,” in half a banter, “it
+would be altogether a different matter. As it is, you are more in the
+way than anything else, only Madame does not see it in that light. Come,
+at my wrists, and take your handkerchief and tie it over my mouth; make
+a complete job of it while you're at it.”
+
+“But they'll wonder how I tied you--”
+
+“By the book, the boy is quite willing to sit down and play poker with
+me till the escort comes! Don't trouble yourself about me; Madame has
+too much need of me to give me more than a slight rating. Hurry and be
+off, and remember that Beauvais has promised to push you off the board.
+Take the near path for the woods and strike northeast. If you run into
+any sentries it will be your own fault.”
+
+“And the army?”
+
+“The army? Who the devil has said anything about the army?”
+
+“I heard it go past last night.”
+
+“Humph! Keep to the right of the pass. Now, quick, before my conscience
+speaks above a whisper.”
+
+“I should like to see the countess.”
+
+“You will--if you reach Bleiberg by to-morrow night.”
+
+Maurice needed no further urging, and soon he had the Colonel securely
+bound and silenced. Next he put on the Colonel's hat and coat, and
+examined the revolver.
+
+“It was very kind of you to load it, Colonel.”
+
+The Colonel blinked his eyes.
+
+“Au revoir!” said Maurice, as he made for the door. “Vergis mein nicht!”
+ and he was gone.
+
+He crept down the stairs, cautiously entered the court, it was deserted.
+The moon was up and shining. The gate was locked, but he climbed it
+without mishap. Not a sentry was in sight. He followed the path, and
+swung off into the forest. He was free. Here he took a breathing spell.
+When he started onward he held the revolver ready. Woe to the sentry who
+blundered on him! For he was determined to cross the frontier if there
+was a breath of life in him. Moreover, he must be in Bleiberg within
+twenty hours.
+
+He was positive that Madame the duchess intended to steal a march, to
+declare war only when she was within gunshot of Bleiberg. It lay with
+him to prevent this move. His cup of wrath was full. From now on he was
+resolved to wage war against Madame on his own account. She had laughed
+in his face. He pushed on, examining trees, hollows and ditches.
+Sometimes he put his hand to his ear and listened. There was no sound in
+the great lonely forest, save for the low murmur of the wind through the
+sprawling boughs. Shadows danced on the forest floor. Once he turned and
+shook his clenched fist toward the spot which marked the location of the
+Red Chateau. He thanked Providence that he was never to see it again.
+What an adventure to tell at the clubs when he once more regained his
+Vienna! Would he regain it?
+
+Why did Madame keep Fitzgerald to her strings? He concluded not to
+bother himself with problems abstract; the main object was to cross
+the Thalians by a path of his own choosing. When he had covered what he
+thought to be a quarter of a mile, he mounted a lookout. The highway was
+about three hundred yards to the left. That was where it should be. He
+saw no sentries, so he slid down from the tree and resumed his journey.
+The chestnuts, oaks, and firs were growing thicker and denser. A dead
+branch cracked with a loud report beneath his feet. With his heart
+almost in his throat, he lay down and listened. A minute passed; he
+listened in vain for an answering noise. He got up and went on.
+
+Presently he came upon a cluster of trees which was capable of affording
+a hiding place for three or four men. He stood still and surveyed it.
+The moon cast moving shadows on either side of it, but these had no
+human shape. He laughed silently at his fear, and as he was about to
+pass the cluster a man stepped out from behind it, his eyes gleaming
+and his hand extended. He was rather a handsome fellow, but pale and
+emaciated. He wore a trooper's uniform, and Maurice, swearing softly,
+concluded that his dash for liberty had come to naught. He, too, held
+a revolver in his hand, but he dared not raise it. There was a certain
+expression on the trooper's face which precluded any arguing.
+
+“If you move,” the trooper said, in a mild voice; “if you utter a sound,
+I'll blow off the top of your cursed head!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. THE PRISONER OF THE RED CHATEAU
+
+There the two stood, mottled in the moonshine and shadow, with wild
+eyes and nostrils distended, the one triumphant, the other raging and
+impotent. Maurice was growing weary of fortune's discourtesies. He gazed
+alternately from his own revolver, lying at his feet, to the one in
+the hand of this unexpected visitant. Only two miles between him and
+freedom, yet he must turn back. The Colonel had reckoned without Madame,
+and therefore without reason. This man had probably got around in front
+of him when he climbed the tree. He turned sullenly and started to walk
+away, expecting to be followed.
+
+“Halt! Where the devil are you going?”
+
+“Why, back to your cursed chateau!” Maurice answered surlily.
+
+The strange trooper laughed discordantly. “Back to the chateau? I think
+not. Now, then, right about face--march! Aye, toward the frontier; and
+if I have to go on alone, so much the worse for you. I've knocked in one
+man's head; if necessary, I'll blow off the top of yours. You know the
+way back to Bleiberg, I don't; that is why I want your company. Now
+march.”
+
+But Maurice did not march; he was filled with curiosity. “Are you a
+trooper in Madame the duchess's household?” he asked.
+
+“No, curse you!”
+
+“Who are you, then?”
+
+“Come, come; this will not pass. No tricks; you have been following me
+these twenty minutes.”
+
+“The deuce I have!” exclaimed Maurice, bewildered. “To Bleiberg, is it?”
+
+“And without loss of time. When we cross the Thalians I shall be
+perfectly willing to parley with you.”
+
+“To Bleiberg, then,” said Maurice. “Since that is my destination, the
+devil I care how I get there.”
+
+“Do you mean to tell me that you are going to Bleiberg?” surprise
+mingling with his impatience.
+
+“No place else.”
+
+“Are you a spy?” menacingly.
+
+“No more than you.”
+
+“But that uniform!”
+
+“I fancy yours looks a good deal like it,” Maurice replied testily.
+
+“I confess I never saw you before, and your tongue has a foreign twist,”
+ with growing doubt.
+
+“I am sure I never saw you before, nor want to see you again.”
+
+“What are you doing in that uniform?”
+
+“You have the advantage of me; suppose you begin the introduction?”
+
+“Indeed I have the advantage of you, and propose to maintain it. Who are
+you and what are you doing here? Answer!”
+
+There was something in the young man's aspect which convinced Maurice
+that it would be folly to trifle. Besides, he gave to his words an
+air which distinguishes the man who commands from the man who serves.
+Maurice briefly acquainted the young man with his name and position.
+
+“And you?” he asked.
+
+“I?” The young man laughed again. It was an unpleasant laugh. “Never
+mind who I am. Let us go, we are losing time. What is the date?”
+ suddenly.
+
+“The twentieth of September,” answered Maurice.
+
+“My God, a day too late!” The young man had an attack of vertigo, and
+was obliged to lean against a tree for support. “Are you telling me the
+truth about yourself?”
+
+“I am. I myself was attempting to dispense with the questionable
+hospitality of the Red Chateau--good Lord!” striking his forehead.
+
+“What's the matter?”
+
+“Are you the mysterious prisoner of the chateau, the man they have been
+keeping at the end of the east corridor on the third floor?”
+
+“Yes. And woe to the woman who kept me there! How came you there?”
+
+Maurice, confident that something extraordinary was taking place,
+related in synopsis his adventures.
+
+“And this cursed Englishman?”
+
+“Will drain a bitter cup. Madame is playing with him.”
+
+“And the king; is he dead?”
+
+“He is dying.” Maurice's wonder grew. What part had this strange young
+man in this comedy, which was rapidly developing into a tragedy?
+
+“And her Highness--her Royal Highness?” eagerly clutching Maurice by the
+arm; “and she?”
+
+“She does not murmur, though both her pride and her heart are sore.
+She has scarcely a dozen friends. Her paralytic father is the theme of
+ribald jest; and now they laugh at her because the one man who perhaps
+could have saved the throne has deserted her like a coward. Hang him, I
+say!”
+
+“What do they say?” The tones were hollow.
+
+“They say he is enamoured of a peasant girl, and dallies with her,
+forgetting his sacred vows, his promised aid, and perhaps even this, his
+wedding day.”
+
+“God help him!” was the startling and despairing cry.... He was again
+seized with the vertigo, and swayed against the tree. For a moment he
+forgot Maurice, covered his face with his unengaged hand, and sobbed.
+
+Maurice was helpless; he could offer no consolation. This grief he could
+not understand. He stooped and picked up his revolver and waited.
+
+“I am weak,” said the other man, dashing his hand from his eyes; “I am
+weak and half starved. It would be better for all concerned if I blew
+out my brains. The twentieth, the twentieth!” he repeated, dully. “Curse
+her!” he burst forth; “as there's a God above us, I'll have revenge.
+Aye, I'll return to the chateau, Madame, that I will, but at the head of
+ten thousand men!... The twentieth! She will never forgive me; she will
+think I, too, deserted her!” He broke down again.
+
+“An army!” cried Maurice.
+
+“Aye, and ten thousand men! Come,” taking Maurice by the arm; “come,
+they may be seeking us. To the frontier. Every hour is precious. To
+a telegraph office! We shall see if I dally with peasant girls, if I
+forsake the woman I love!”
+
+“You?” Maurice retreated a step. The silver moonshine became tinged with
+red.
+
+“I am Prince Frederick, and I love her Highness. I would sacrifice a
+thousand kingdoms to spare her a moment's sorrow. I have always loved
+her.”
+
+“What a woman!” Maurice murmured, as the scheme of Madame's flashed
+through his mind. “What a woman! And she had the audacity to kidnap you,
+too!”
+
+“And by the most dishonorable device. I and my suite of gentlemen were
+coming to Bleiberg to make the final arrangements. At Ehrenstein I
+received a telegram which requested me to visit till the following train
+a baron who was formerly a comrade of my father. The telegram advised me
+of his sudden illness, and that he had something important to disclose
+to me. I bade my gentlemen, save one, proceed to Bleiberg. My aide and
+I entered the carriage which was to convey us to the castle. We never
+reached it. On the road we fell into an ambush, a contrivance of
+Madame's. I was brought to the chateau. Whatever happened to Hofer, my
+aide, I do not know. Doubtless he is dead. But Madame shall pay, both in
+pride and wealth. I will lay waste this duchy of hers, though in the end
+the emperor crush me. Let us be off.”
+
+They stumbled on through the forest. So confused was Maurice that he
+forgot his usual caution. The supreme confidence of this woman and
+the flawlessness of her schemes dazed him. So far she had stopped at
+nothing; where would she end? A Napoleon in petticoats, she was about to
+appall the confederation. She had suppressed a prince who was heir to
+a kingdom triple in power and size to the kingdom which she coveted.
+Madame the duchess was relying on some greater power, else her plans
+were madness.
+
+As for the prince, he had but one thought: to reach Bleiberg. The
+confinement, together with mental suffering, anxiety and forced
+inaction, began to tell on him. Twice he tripped and fell, and Maurice
+had to return to assist him to his feet. However could they cross
+the mountains, a feat which needed both courage and extreme physical
+endurance?
+
+“I am so weak,” said the prince, “so pitiably weak! I thought to
+frighten the woman by starving myself, poor fool that I was!”
+
+And they went on again. Maurice was beginning to feel the effect of his
+wine-bibbing; he had a splitting headache.
+
+“Silence!” he suddenly whispered, sinking and dragging the prince with
+him.
+
+A hundred yards in advance of them stood a sentinel, his body bent
+forward and a hand to his ear. Presently he, too, lay down. Five minutes
+passed. The sentinel rose, and convinced that his ears had tricked him,
+resumed his lonely patrol. He disappeared toward the west, while the
+fugitives made off in an easterly direction. Maurice was a soldier
+again. Every two or three hundred yards he knelt and pressed his ear to
+the cold, damp earth and waited for a familiar jar. The prince watched
+these movements with interest.
+
+“You have been a soldier?” he asked.
+
+“Yes. Perhaps we had better strike out for the mountains. The sentry
+line can not extend as far as this.”
+
+But now they could see the drab peaks of the mountains which loomed
+between the partly dismantled trees. Beyond lay the kingdom. Would they
+ever reach it? There was only one pass; this they dared not make. Yet
+if they attempted to cross the mountains in a deserted place, they
+might very easily get lost; for in some locations it was fully six miles
+across the range, and this, with the ups and downs and windings in
+and out, might lengthen into twenty miles. They struck out toward the
+mountains, and after half an hour they came upon an unforeseen obstacle.
+They sat down in despair. This obstacle was the river, not very, wide,
+but deep, turbulent and impassable.
+
+“We shall have to risk the pass,” said Maurice, gloomily; “though heaven
+knows how we are to get through it. We have ten shots between us.”
+
+They followed the river. The roar of it deadened all other sounds. For
+a mile they plodded on, silent, watchful and meditative. The prince
+thought of his love; Maurice tried to forget his. For him the romance
+had come to an end, its logical end; and it was now only a question of
+getting back to the world to which he belonged and remaining there. He
+recalled a line he had read somewhere: a deep love, gashes into the
+soul as a scar is hewn upon the body and remains there during the whole
+life...
+
+“Look!” cried the prince. He pointed toward the west.
+
+Maurice came out of his dream and looked. Some distance west of the
+pass, perhaps half a mile from where they stood, Maurice saw the twinkle
+of a hundred campfires. It was Madame's army in bivouac.
+
+“What does this mean?” asked the prince.
+
+“It means that the duchess is on the eve of striking a blow for her
+crown,” answered Maurice. “And how are we to make the pass, which is
+probably filled with soldiers? If only we could find a boat! Ah! what
+would your Highness call this?” He pointed to a thread-like line of bare
+earth which wended riverward.
+
+“A sheep or cattle path,” said the prince, after a close inspection.
+
+“Then the river is perhaps fordable here!” exclaimed Maurice jubilantly.
+“At any rate, we'll try it; if it gets too deep, we'll come back.”
+
+He walked to the water's edge, studied the black whirling mass,
+shrugged and stepped in. The prince came after him, unhesitatingly. Both
+shivered. The water was intensely cold. But the bed was shallow, and
+the river never mounted above the waist. However, in midstream it rushed
+strongly and wildly along, and all but carried them off their feet. They
+arrived in safety at the opposite shore, weak and cold in body, but warm
+in spirit. They lay on the grass for several moments, breathing heavily.
+They might now gain the pass by clambering up the mountain and picking
+their way down from the other side. It was not possible that Madame's
+troopers had entered into the kingdom.
+
+“I am giving out,” the prince confessed reluctantly. “Let us make as
+much headway as we can while I last.”
+
+They stood up. Now the moon fell upon them both; and they viewed each
+other with no little curiosity. What the prince saw pleased him, for he
+possessed a good eye. What Maurice saw was a frank, manly countenance,
+youthful, almost boyish. The prince did not look to be more than three
+and twenty, if that; but there was a man's determination in his jaw.
+This jaw pleased Maurice, for it confided to him that Madame had now
+something that would cause her worry.
+
+“I put myself in your care,” said the prince, offering his hand. “I am
+not equal to much. A man can not see his wedding day come and go without
+him, helpless to prevent it, and not have the desire to sit down and
+weep and curse. You will see nothing but the unfavorable side of me for
+the next dozen hours.”
+
+“I'm not altogether amiable myself,” replied Maurice with a short
+laugh. “Let us get out of the moonlight,” he added; “we are somewhat
+conspicuous, and besides, we should keep moving; this cold is
+paralyzing. Is your Highness equal to the climbing?”
+
+“Equal or not, lead the way. If I fall I'll call you.”
+
+And the weary march began again; over boulders, through tangles of tough
+shrubbery, up steep inclines, around precipices, sometimes enveloped in
+mists, yet still they kept on. Often the prince fell over ragged stones,
+but he picked himself up without assistance; though he swore some,
+Maurice thought none the less of him for that bit of human weakness. The
+cold was numbing, and neither felt the cuts and bruises.
+
+After two hours of this fatiguing labor they arrived upon a small
+plateau, about two thousand feet above the valley. The scene was solemn
+and imposing. The world seemed lying at their feet. The chateau, half
+hidden in the mist, sparkled like an opal. Maurice scowled at it. To the
+prince the vision was as reviving as a glass of wine. He threatened
+it with his fist, and plunged on with renewed vigor. There are few
+sensations so stimulating as the thought of a complete revenge. The
+angle of vision presently changed, and the historic pile vanished.
+Maurice never saw the Red Chateau again.
+
+Little more in the way of mishap befell them; and when the moon had
+wheeled half way down from the zenith, the kingdom lay below them.
+A descent of an hour's duration brought them into the pass. Maurice
+calculated that nearly five hours had passed since he left the chateau;
+for the blue was fading in the east. The phantom vitality of the prince
+now forsook him; his legs refused their offices, and he sank upon a
+boulder, his head in his hands. Maurice was not much better; but the
+prince had given him the burden of responsibility, and he was determined
+to hold up under it.
+
+“If your Highness will remain here,” he said, “I will fetch assistance,
+for the barrack can not be far off.”
+
+The prince nodded and Maurice tramped away. But the miniature barrack
+and the quaint stone customs house both were wrapt in gloom and
+darkness. Maurice investigated. Both buildings were deserted; there
+was no sign of life about. He broke a window, and entered the customs
+office. Remembering that Colonel Mollendorf smoked, he searched the
+inner pocket of his coat. He drew forth a box of wax matches, struck one
+and looked about. A struggle had taken place. Evidences were strewn on
+the floor. The telegraph operator's table had been smashed into bits,
+the instrument twisted out of shape, the jars broken and the wires cut.
+Like indications of a disturbance were also found in the barrack.
+
+Maurice began to comprehend. Madame's troopers had crossed the frontier,
+but they had returned again, taking with them the handful of troopers
+belonging to the king. It was plain that the object of this skirmish had
+been to destroy communications between Bleiberg and the frontier. Madame
+desired to effect a complete surprise, to swoop down on the capital
+before it could bring a large force into the field.
+
+There is an unwritten law that when one country intends to wage war
+against its neighbor a formal declaration shall be made. But again
+Madame had forsaken the beaten paths. More than three weeks had passed
+since the duchy's representative in Bleiberg had been discredited and
+given his passports. At once the duchess had retaliated by discrediting
+the king's representative in Brunnstadt. Ordinarily this would have been
+understood as a mutual declaration of war. Instead, both governments
+ignored each other, one suspiciously, the other intentionally. All of
+which is to say, the gage of war had been flung, but neither had stooped
+to pick it up.
+
+Perhaps Madame expected by this sudden aggressiveness to win her fight
+with as little loss of blood as possible, which in justice to her was to
+her credit. Again, a declaration of war openly made might have moved the
+confederation to veto it by coercion. To win without loss of life would
+leave the confederation powerless to act. Therefore it will be seen that
+Madame was not only a daring woman, but a general of no mean ability.
+
+This post was an isolated one; between it and Bleiberg there was not
+even a village. The main pass from the kingdom into the duchy was about
+thirty miles east. Here was a small but lively city named Coberg, a
+railway center, garrisoned by one thousand troops. At this pass Madame's
+contemplated stroke of war would have been impossible. The railway ran
+directly from Coberg to Brunnstadt, fifty miles south of the frontier.
+A branch of the railway ran from Brunnstadt to a small town seven
+miles south of the Red Chateau, which accounts for the ease with which
+Madame's troops had reached the isolated pass. It was now likely that
+Madame would arrive before Bleiberg ere her enemies dreamed of the
+stroke. Maurice could see how well the traitorous administration had
+played into Madame's hands. Here was the one weak spot, and they had
+allowed it to remain thus weak.
+
+“The kingdom is lost,” thought Maurice. “His Highness and I may as well
+return to the chateau, for all the good our escape will do us. Hang them
+all!”
+
+He began to forage, and discovered a bottle full of peach brandy. He
+drank half the contents, reserving the remainder for the prince. As he
+lowered the bottle there came a sound which caused him almost to lose
+hold of the vigorous tonic. The sound he heard was the shrill whinney
+of a horse. He pocketed the bottle and dashed out to the stables. To his
+joy several horses stamped restlessly in the stalls. The attacking party
+had without doubt come on foot. He led out two, saddled and bridled them
+and returned to the prince, who had fallen asleep. Maurice roused him.
+
+“To Bleiberg, your Highness,” he cried, at the same time offering the
+bottle, which the prince did not hesitate to empty.
+
+“Ha!” staggering to his feet. “Where are the men?”
+
+Maurice explained the cause of their absence. The prince swore, and
+climbed with difficulty into the saddle.
+
+“Thank God,” he said, as they galloped away, “we shall be there first.”
+
+“Adieu, Madame!” Maurice cried, airily. He was free.
+
+“To our next meeting, duchess!” The prince, too, was free, but he
+thirsted for a full revenge.
+
+They had been on the way but a short time when Maurice lifted his arm.
+
+“Look!”
+
+The prince raised his head. It was dawn, yellow and cold and pure.
+
+They fell into silence; sometimes Maurice caught himself counting the
+beat of the hoofs and the variation of sounds, as when they struck
+sand or slate, or crossed small wooden bridges. Here and there he saw
+peasants going into the fields to begin the long, long day of toil. The
+saddle on which he sat had been the property of a short man, for the
+stirrups were too high, and the prince's were too low. But neither
+desired to waste time to adjust them. And so they rode with dangling
+legs and bodies sunken in the saddles; mute, as if by agreement.
+
+They had gone perhaps ten miles when they perceived a horse flying
+toward them, half a mile away. The rider was not yet visible. They felt
+no alarm, but instinctively they drew together. Nearer and nearer came
+the lonely horseman, and as the distance lessened into some hundred
+yards they discerned the flutter of a gown.
+
+“A woman!” exclaimed Maurice. “And alone this time of morning!”
+
+“Eh?” cried the prince; “and heading for the duchy? Let us wait.”
+
+They drew up to the side of the highway. The woman came fearlessly on,
+her animal's head down and his tail flaring out behind. On, on; abreast
+of them; as she flew past there was a vision of a pale, determined face,
+a blond head bared to the chill wind. She heeded not their challenge;
+it was a question whether or not she heard it. They stood watching her
+until she and her horse dwindled into a mere moving speck, finally to
+become lost altogether in a crook of the road.
+
+“I should like to know what that means,” said Maurice.
+
+“It is very strange,” the prince said, musingly. “I have seen that woman
+before. She is one of the dancers at the opera.”
+
+“Mayhap she has a lover on the other side.”
+
+“Mayhap. Let us be on. There's the sun, and we are a good thirteen
+miles away!” and the prince slapped the neck of his horse, which bounded
+forward.
+
+This tiring pace they maintained until they mounted the hill from which
+they could see the glittering spires of the city, and the Werter See as
+it flashed back the sunlight.
+
+“Bleiberg!” Maurice waved his hand.
+
+“Thanks to you, that I look on it.”
+
+It was ten o'clock when they passed under the city gates.
+
+“Monsieur, will you go with me to the palace?” asked the prince.
+
+“If your Highness will excuse me,” said Maurice; “no, I should be in the
+way; and besides I am dead for want of sleep.”
+
+“I shall never sleep,” grumbled the prince, “till I have humbled that
+woman. And you? Have you no rankle in your heart? Have you no desire to
+witness that woman's humiliation?”
+
+“Your Highness, I belong to a foreign country.”
+
+“No matter; be my aide. Come; I offer you a complete revenge for the
+treatment you have received at Madame's hands. Your government shall
+never know.”
+
+Maurice studied the mane of his horse. Suddenly he made a gesture. This
+gesture consigned to the four winds his diplomatic career. “I accept,”
+ he said. “You will find me at the Continental. I confess that I have no
+love for this woman. She has robbed me of no little conceit.”
+
+“To the palace, then; to the palace! And this hour to-morrow we, you and
+I, will drink to her Royal Highness at the Red Chateau. To the palace!”
+
+Up the Strasse they raced, through the lower town to the upper, and down
+the broad asphalt to the palace gates. The prince rushed his horse to
+the very bars and shook them in his wild impatience.
+
+“Ho! open, open!” he called.
+
+Several cuirassiers lounged about. At the sight of these two hatless,
+bedraggled men storming the gates, they ran forward with drawn swords
+and angry cries. Lieutenant Scharfenstein was among them. At second
+glance he recognized Maurice, who hailed him.
+
+“Open, Lieutenant,” he cried; “it is his Highness, Prince Frederick!”
+
+The bars came down, the gates swung in.
+
+“Go and sleep,” said the prince to Maurice; “I will send an orderly for
+you when the time comes.” And with this he dashed up the driveway to the
+main entrance of the palace, leaped from his horse and disappeared.
+
+Maurice wheeled and drove leisurely to the Continental, leaving the
+amazed cuirassiers gaping after him. He experienced that exuberance of
+spirits which always comes with a delightful day dream. He forgot his
+weariness, his bruises. To mingle directly in the affairs of kings and
+princes, to be a factor among factors who surround and uphold thrones,
+seemed so at variance with his republican learning that he was not sure
+that all this was not one long dream--Fitzgerald and his consols, the
+meeting with the princess, the adventures at Madame's chateau, the
+duel with Beauvais, the last night's flight with the prince across the
+mountains! Yes; he had fallen asleep somewhere and had been whisked away
+into a kind of fairyland. Every one was in trouble just now, as they
+always are in certain chapters of fairy tales, but all would end
+happily, and then--he would wake.
+
+Meanwhile the prince entered the palace and was proceeding up the grand
+corridor, when a bared sword stayed his progress.
+
+“Monsieur,” said von Mitter, “you have lost your way. You can not enter
+here.”
+
+“I?” a haughty, threatening expression on his pale face. “Are you sure?”
+
+Von Mitter fell back against the wall and all but lost hold of his
+saber. “Your Highness?” he gasped, overcome.
+
+“Even so!” said the prince. “The archbishop! the Marshal! Lead me to
+them at once!”
+
+Von Mitter was too much the soldier not to master his surprise at once.
+He saluted, clicked his heels and limped toward the throne room.
+He stopped at the threshold, saluted again, and, in a voice full of
+quavers, announced:
+
+“His Highness Prince Frederick of Carnavia.”
+
+He stepped aside, and the prince pushed past him into the throne room.
+At this dramatic entrance there rose from the archbishop, the Marshal,
+the princess, the Carnavian ambassador, from all the court dignitaries,
+a cry of wonder and astonishment.
+
+“His Highness!”
+
+“Aye!” cried the prince, brokenly, for his joy at seeing the princess
+nigh overcame him. “I have been a prisoner of Madame's, who at this
+moment is marching on Bleiberg with an army four thousand strong!” And
+stumblingly he related his misadventures.
+
+The Marshal did not wait until he had done, nor did the new Colonel
+of the cuirassiers; both rushed from the room. The archbishop frowned;
+while the princess and the court stared at the prince with varying
+emotions. Before the final word had passed his lips, he approached her
+Highness, fell on his knee and raised her hand to his lips. He noticed
+not how cold it was.
+
+“Thank God, Mademoiselle,” he said, “that once more I look into your
+eyes. And if one wedding day is gone--well, there is yet time for
+another!” He, rose, and proudly before them all he drew her toward him
+and kissed her cheek. It was his right; she was, the light of all
+his dreams, at once his bride-to-be and lady-love. But in his joy and
+eagerness he did not see how pale she grew at the touch of his lips, nor
+how the lids of her eyes trembled and fell.
+
+Next the prince recounted Maurice's adventures, how he became connected
+with those at the chateau, even Fitzgerald's fall from grace. The
+indignation and surprise which was accorded this recital was unbounded.
+
+The brown eyes of the princess filled. In a moment she had traversed the
+space of ten years to a rare September noon, when a gray-haired old man
+had kissed her hand and praised her speech. A young dog stood beside
+her, ready for a romp in the park. Across the path sat her father, who
+was smiling, and who would never smile again. How many times had her
+girlish fancy pictured the son of that old man! How many times had she
+dreamed of him--aye, prayed for him! The room grew dark, and she pressed
+her hand over her heart. To her the future was empty indeed. There was
+nothing left but the vague perfume of the past, the faint incense of
+futile, childish dreams. To stand on the very threshold of life, and
+yet to see no joy beyond! She struggled against the sob which rose, and
+conquered it.
+
+“To arms, Messieurs, to arms!” cried the prince, feverishly. “To arms!”
+
+The archbishop stepped forward and took the prince's hand in his own.
+
+“God wills all things,” he said, sadly, “and perhaps he has willed that
+your Highness should come too late!” And that strange, habitual smile
+was gone--forever. No one could fathom the true significance of this
+peculiar speech.
+
+“But 'aux armes' was taken up, and spread throughout the city.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. THE FORTUNES OF WAR
+
+War! The whole city was in tumult. The guests were leaving the hotels,
+the timid were preparing to fly, and shopkeepers were putting up their
+blinds and hiding their valuables; the parks and cafes were deserted.
+The railway booking office was crowded, and a babel of tongues quarreled
+for precedence. The siege of Paris was but yesterday's news, and
+tourists did not propose to be walled in from the outer world. Some
+looked upon the scene as a comic opera; others saw the tragedy of men
+snarling at one another's throats.
+
+Two hundred gendarmes patrolled the streets; for in war time the dregs
+of a city float to the surface. Above the foreign legations flags rose,
+offering protection to all those who possessed the right to claim it.
+Less than four thousand troops had marched from the city that day, but
+these were the flower of the army, consisting of two thousand foot, six
+cannon and twelve hundred horse. Europe has always depended largely
+on the cavalry, which in the past has been a most formidable engine in
+warfare.
+
+With gay plumes and banners, glittering helmets and flashing cuirasses,
+they had gone forth to meet Madame and drive her back across the range.
+They had made a brave picture, especially the royal cuirassiers, who
+numbered three hundred strong, and who were to fight not only for glory,
+but for bread. Fifty of them had been left behind to guard the palaces.
+
+In the royal bedchamber the king lay, all unconscious of the fate
+impending. The brain had ceased to live; only a feeble pulse stirred
+irregularly. The state physician shook his head, and, from time to time,
+laid his fingers on the unfeeling wrist. To him it was a matter of a few
+hours.
+
+But to the girl, whose face lay hidden in the counterpane, close to one
+of those senseless hands, to her it was a matter of a breaking heart, of
+eyes which could be no longer urged to tears, the wells having dried up.
+Dear God, she thought, how cruel it was! Her tried and trusted friend,
+the one playmate of her childhood, was silently slipping out of her life
+forever. Ah, what to her were crowns and kingdoms, aye, and even war?
+Her father dead, what mattered it who reigned? How she prayed that he
+might live! They would go away together, and live in peace and quiet,
+undisturbed by the storms of intrigue.... It was not to be; he was
+dying. She would be the wife of no man; her father, hovering in spirit
+above her, would read her heart and understand. Dead, he would ask no
+sacrifice of her. Henceforth only God would be her king, and she would
+worship him in some sacred convent.
+
+The old valet, who had served his master from boyhood, stood in the
+anteroom and fumbled his lips, his faded eyes red with weeping. He was
+losing the only friend he had. Elsewhere the servants wandered about
+restlessly, waiting for news from the front, to learn if they, too, were
+to join in the mad flight from the city. Few servants love masters in
+adversity. Self-interest is the keynote to their existences.
+
+In the east wing three men were holding a whispered consultation. The
+faces of two were pale and deep-lined; the face of the third expressed
+a mixture of condolence and triumph. These three gentlemen were the
+archbishop, the chancellor and the Austrian ambassador. History has not
+taken into account what passed between these three men, but subsequent
+events proved that it signified disaster to one who dreamed of conquest
+and of power.
+
+Said the ambassador, rising: “After what has been said, his Imperial
+Majesty will, I can speak authoritatively, further discredit Walmoden;
+for I have this day received information from a reliable source which
+precludes any rehabilitation of that prince. My deepest sympathies are
+with her Highness; his Majesty highly honored her unfortunate father.
+Permit me to bid you good day, for you know that the matter under my
+hand needs my immediate attention.”
+
+When he had gone the prelate said: “My friend, our services to the
+kingdom are nearly over.”
+
+“We are lost!” replied the chancellor. “The king is happy, indeed.”
+
+“I find,” said the prelate, “that we have been lost for ten years. Had
+this Englishman proved true, it would not have mattered; had Prince
+Frederick arrived in time, still it would not have mattered. But above
+all, I was determined that Madame the duchess should not triumph. The
+end was written ten years ago. How invincible is fate! How incontestible
+its decrees!”
+
+In the lower town the students were preparing a riot, which was to take
+place that night. Old Stuler's was thronged. Stuler himself looked on
+indifferently, even listlessly. He had heard of Kopf's death.
+
+It was half after five of the afternoon. Six miles beyond the Althofen
+bridge, in all thirteen miles from Bleiberg, a long, low cloud of dust
+hung over the king's highway. This cloud of dust was caused by the
+hurried, rhythmic pad-pad of human feet, the striking of hoofs and
+the wheels of cannon. It marked the progress of an army. To the great
+surprise of the Marshal, the prince and the staff, they had pushed thus
+far during the afternoon without seeing a sign of the enemy. Was Madame
+asleep? Was she so confident her projects were unknown that she had
+chosen night as the time of her attack? Night, indeed, when the strength
+of her forces would be a matter of conjecture to the assaulted, who at
+the suddenness of her approach would succumb to panic! The prince was
+jubilant and hopeful. He had no doubt that they would arrive at the pass
+just as Madame was issuing forth. This meant an easy victory, for once
+the guns covered the narrow pass, though Madame's army were ten times as
+strong, its defeat was certain. A small force might hold it in check for
+hours.
+
+A squadron of cuirassiers had been sent forward to reconnoiter, and as
+yet none had returned with alarms. The road had many windings, and was
+billowed frequently with hills, and ran through small forests. Only the
+vast blue bulk of the mountains remained ever in view.
+
+“We shall drink at the Red Chateau to-night,” said the prince, gaily, to
+Maurice.
+
+“That we shall,” replied Maurice; “and the best in the cellars.”
+
+Only the Marshal said nothing; he knew what war was. In his youth he had
+served in Transylvania, and he was not minded to laugh and jest. Then,
+too, there was injustice on both sides. Poor devil! as his thoughts
+recurred to the king. Touched for the moment by the wings of ambition,
+which is at best a white vulture, he had usurped another's throne, and
+to this end! But he was less answerable than the archbishop, who had
+urged him.
+
+Occasionally he glanced back at the native troops, the foot, the horse,
+the artillery, and scowled. From these his glance wandered to the cold,
+impassive face of General Kronau, who rode at his side, and he rubbed
+his nose. Kronau had been a favorite of Albrecht's... How would he act?
+In truth, the Marshal's thoughts were not altogether pleasant. Some of
+these men surrounding him, exchanging persiflage, might never witness
+another sunset. For, while the world would look upon this encounter as
+one looks upon a comedy, for some it would serve as tragedy. Often he
+lent his ear to the gay banter of the young American, and watched the
+careless smile on his face. What was he doing here? Why was he risking
+his life for no cause whatever, an alien, in natural sympathy neither
+with the kingdom nor with the duchy? A sad, grim smile parted his lips.
+
+“O, the urbanity of the young and the brave!” he murmured.
+
+Maurice felt the old familiar exhilaration--the soldier's
+exhilaration--quicken the beat of his pulse. He did not ask himself
+why he was here; he knew why. A delightful flower had sprung up in his
+heart, and fate had nipped it. Whither this new adventure would lead
+him he cared not. From now on life for him must be renewed by continual
+change and excitement. Since no one depended on him, his life was his
+to dispose of as he willed. Friends? He laughed. He knew the world too
+well. He himself was his best friend, for he had always been true to
+himself.
+
+He might be shot, but he had faced that possibility before. Besides,
+to-day's experience would be new to him. He had never witnessed a battle
+in the open, man to man, in bright, resplendent uniforms. A ragged,
+dusty troop of brown-skinned men in faded blue, with free and easy
+hats, irregular of formation, no glory, no brilliancy, skirmishing
+with outlawed white men and cunning Indians, that was the extent of his
+knowledge by experience. True, these self-same men in dingy blue fought
+with a daring such as few soldiers living possessed; but they lacked the
+ideal picturesqueness which made this army so attractive.
+
+The sharp edges of his recent fatigue were not yet dulled, but his
+cuirass sat lightly upon him, the sound of the dangling saber at his
+side smote pleasantly his ear, and the black Mecklenberg under him
+was strong and active. To return to Madame's chateau in the guise of a
+conqueror was a most engaging thought. She had humbled his self-love,
+now to humble hers! He no longer bothered himself about Beauvais, whose
+case he had placed in the hands of the Austrian ambassador.
+
+Gay and debonair he rode that late September afternoon. No man around
+him had so clear an eye nor so constant a vivacity. Since he had nothing
+but his life to lose, he had no fear. Let the theater be full of light
+while the play lasted, and let the curtain fall to a round of huzzas!
+For a few short hours ago he had kissed a woman's hand and had looked
+into her sad brown eyes. “Why you do this I do not know, nor shall I
+ask. Monsieur, my prayers go with you.” Was not that an amulet? His
+diplomatic career! He fell to whistling.
+
+“Ah! que j'aime les militaires!”
+
+More than once the prince felt the sting of envy in his heart at the
+sight of this embodiment of supreme nonchalance. It spoke of a healthy
+salt in the veins, a salt such as kings themselves can not always boast
+of. A foreigner, a republican? No matter; a gallant man.
+
+“Monsieur,” he said impulsively, “you shall always possess my
+friendship, once we are well out of this.”
+
+“Thanks, your Highness,” replied Maurice, and laughing; “the
+after-thought is timely!”
+
+The sun lay close to the western rim of hills; an opal sky encompassed
+the earth; the air was balmy.
+
+“The French call this St. Martin's summer,” said Maurice. “In my country
+we call it Indian summer--ah!” lifting in his stirrups.
+
+The army was approaching a hill, when suddenly a whirlwind of dust
+rolled over the summit, and immediately a reconnoitering patrol came
+dashing into view, waving their sabers aloft.... The enemy was less than
+a mile away, and advancing rapidly.
+
+To anticipate. Madame the duchess had indeed contemplated striking the
+blow at night. That morning, like the brave Amazon she was, she had
+pitched her tent in the midst of her army, to marshal and direct its
+forces. It was her intention to be among the first to enter Bleiberg;
+for she was a soldier's daughter, and could master the inherent fears of
+her sex.
+
+That same morning a woman entered the lines and demanded an audience.
+What passed between her and Madame the duchess others never knew. She
+had also been apprised of the prisoners' escape, but, confident that
+they would not be able to make a crossing, she disdained pursuit. The
+prince had missed his wedding day; he was no longer of use to her. As to
+the American, he would become lost, and that would be the end of him.
+
+But the Englishman.... He was conscience eternally barking at her heels.
+The memory of that kiss still rankled in her mind, and not an hour went
+by in which she did not chide herself for the folly. How to get rid of
+him perplexed her. Here he was, in the uniform of a Lieutenant-Colonel,
+ready to go to any lengths at a sign from her. There was something in
+her heart which she had not yet analyzed. First of all, her crown; as to
+her heart, there was plenty of time in which to study that peculiar and
+unstable organ. The possibility of the prince's arriving in Bleiberg
+before her in no way disturbed her. Whenever her attack was made,
+failure would not attend it. She broke camp at two o'clock and took the
+road leisurely toward Bleiberg.
+
+Thus, the two armies faced each other comparatively in the open. A
+battle hung in the air.
+
+The king's forces came to an abrupt halt. Orderlies dashed to and fro.
+The artillery came rumbling and creaking to the front, wheeled, the guns
+unlimbered and ranged so as to enfilade the road. The infantry deployed
+to right and left while the cavalry swung into position on the flanks.
+All this was accomplished with the equanimity of dress parade. Maurice
+could not control his admiration. Madame, he thought, might win her
+crown, but at a pretty cost.
+
+The Marshal and the staff posted themselves on the right breast of the
+hill, from whence, by the aid of binoculars, they could see the enemy.
+From time to time General Kronau nervously smoothed his beard, formed
+his lips into words, but did not utter them, and glanced slyly from
+the corner of his eye at the Marshal, who was intent on the enemy's
+approach. Maurice was trying with naked eye to pierce the forest and the
+rolling ground beyond, and waiting for the roar of the guns.
+
+Orders had been issued for the gunners to get the range and commence
+firing; but as the gunners seemed over long in getting down to work,
+Maurice gazed around impatiently. The blood rushed into his heart. For
+this is what he saw: the infantry leaning indolently on their guns,
+their officers snipping the grasses with their swords; the cuirassiers
+hidden in the bulk of the native cavalry; artillerymen seated carelessly
+on the caissons, and the gunners smoking and leaning against the guns.
+All action was gone, as if by magic; nothing but a strange tableau
+remained! Moreover, a troop of native cavalry, which, for no apparent
+reason, had not joined the main body, had closed in on the general
+staff. Appalled by a sudden thought, Maurice touched the prince, who
+lowered his glasses and turned his head. Bewilderment widened his eyes,
+and the flush on his cheeks died away. He, too, saw.
+
+“Devil's name!” the Marshal burst forth, “why don't the blockheads
+shoot? The enemy--” He stopped, his chin fell, for, as he turned, a
+single glance explained all to him. The red on his face changed into
+a sickly purple, and the glasses slipped from his hands and broke into
+pieces on the stony ground.
+
+“Marshal,” began General Kronau, “I respect your age and valiant
+services. That is why we have come thirteen miles. You may keep your
+sword, and also Monsieur the prince. For the present you are prisoners.”
+
+For a moment the Marshal was stupefied. His secret fears had been
+realized. Suddenly a hoarse oath issued from his lips, he dragged his
+saber from the scabbard, raised it and made a terrible sweep at the
+General. But the stroke fell on a dozen intervening blades, and the
+Marshal's arms were held and forced to his sides.
+
+“Kronau... you?” he roared. “Betrayed! You despicable coward and
+traitor! You--” But speech forsook him, and he would have fallen from
+the horse but for those who held his arms.
+
+“Traitor?” echoed Kronau, coolly. “To what and to whom? I am serving my
+true and legitimate sovereign. I am also serving humanity, since this
+battle is to be bloodless. It is you who are the traitor. You swore
+allegiance to the duke, and that allegiance is the inheritance of the
+daughter. How have you kept your oath?”
+
+But the Marshal was incapable of answer. One looking at him would have
+said that he was suffering from a stroke of apoplexy.
+
+“I admit,” went on the General, not wholly unembarrassed, “that the
+part I play is not an agreeable one to me, but it is preferable to the
+needless loss of human life. The duchess was to have entered Bleiberg
+at night, to save us this present dishonor, if you persist in calling
+it such. But his Highness, who is young, and Monseigneur the archbishop,
+who dreams of Richelieu, made it impossible. No harm is intended to any
+one.”
+
+The prince, white and shivering as if with ague, broke his sword on the
+pommel of the saddle and hurled the pieces at Kronau, who permitted them
+to strike him.
+
+“God's witness,” the prince cried furiously, “but your victory shall
+be short-lived. I have an army, trusty to the last sword, and you shall
+feel the length of its arm within forty-eight hours.”
+
+“Perhaps,” said Kronau, shrugging.
+
+“It is already on the way.”
+
+“Your Highness forgets that Carnavia belongs to the confederation, and
+that the king, your father, dare not send you troops without the consent
+of the emperor, which, believe me, will never be given;” and he urged
+his horse down the slope.
+
+The army of the duchess had now gained the open. The advance was
+composed of cavalry, which came along the road with wings on either
+side, and with great dash and splendor.
+
+A noisy cheer arose, to be faintly echoed by the oncoming avalanche of
+white horses and dazzling blue uniforms.
+
+This was the incident upon which Madame the duchess relied.
+
+With rage and chagrin in his heart, Maurice viewed the scene. The knell
+of the Osians had been struck. He gazed forlornly at the cuirassiers;
+they at least had come to sell their lives honestly for their bread.
+Presently the two armies came together; all was confusion and cheers.
+Kronau approached the leader of the cavalry.... Maurice was greatly
+disturbed. He leaned toward the prince.
+
+“Your Highness,” he whispered, “I am going to make a dash for the road.”
+
+“Yes, yes!” replied the prince, intuitively. “My God, yes! Warn her to
+fly, so that she will not be compelled to witness this cursed woman's
+triumph. Save her that humiliation. Go, and God be with you, my friend!
+We are all dishonored. The Marshal looks as if he were dying.”
+
+The native troopers, in their eagerness to witness the meeting between
+Kronau and the former Colonel of the cuirassiers, had pushed forward. A
+dozen, however, had hemmed in the Marshal, the prince and Maurice. But
+these were standing in their stirrups. Maurice gradually brought his
+horse about so that presently he was facing north. Directly in front of
+him was an opening. He grasped his saber firmly and pressed the spurs.
+Quick as he was, two sabers barred his way, but he beat them aside, went
+diagonally down the hill, over the stone wall and into the road.
+
+While he was maneuvering for this dash, one man had been eying him with
+satisfaction. As the black horse suddenly sank from view behind the
+hill, Beauvais, to the astonishment of Kronau, drew his revolver.
+
+“There goes a man,” he cried, “who must not escape. He is so valuable
+that I shall permit no one but myself to bring him back!” And the
+splendid white animal under him bounded up the hill and down the other
+side.
+
+Beauvais had a well-defined purpose in following alone. He was
+determined that one Maurice Carewe should not bother anyone hereafter;
+he knew too much.
+
+The white horse and the black faded away in the blur of rising dust.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI. A PAGE FROM TASSO
+
+For a long time Maurice rode with his head almost touching the coal
+black mane of his gallant Mecklenberg. Twice he glanced back to see who
+followed, but the volume of dust which rolled after him obscured all
+behind. He could hear the far-off hammer of hoofs, but this, mingling
+with the noise of his own horse, confused him as to the number of
+pursuers. He reasoned that he was well out of range, for there came no
+report of firearms. The road presently described a semi-circle, passing
+through a meager orchard. Once beyond this he turned again in the
+saddle.
+
+“Only one; that is not so bad as it might be. It is one to one.” But a
+second glance told him who this solitary pursuer was. “The devil!” he
+laughed--as one of Tasso's heroes might have laughed!--“The devil! how
+that man loves me!” He was confident that the white horse would never
+overtake the black.
+
+On they flew, pursued and pursuer. At length Maurice bit his lip and
+frowned. The white horse was growing larger; the distance between was
+lessening, slowly but certainly.
+
+“Good boy!” he said encouragingly to the Mecklenberg. “Good boy!”
+
+Deserted farm houses swept past; hills rose and vanished, but still the
+white horse crept up, up, up. The distance ere another half mile had
+gone had diminished to four hundred yards; from four hundred it fell to
+three hundred, from three hundred to two hundred. The Mecklenburg was
+doing glorious work, but the marvelous stride of the animal in the
+rear was matchless. Suddenly Maurice saw a tuft of the red plume on his
+helmet spring out ahead of him and sail away, and a second later came
+the report. One, he counted; four more were to follow. Next a stream of
+fire gassed along his cheek, and something warm trickled down the side
+of his neck. Two, he counted, his face now pale and set. The third
+knocked his scabbard into the air.
+
+Quickly he shifted his saber to the left, dropped the reins and drew his
+own revolver. He understood. He was not to be taken prisoner. Beauvais
+intended to kill him offhand. Only the dead keep secrets. Maurice flung
+about and fired three consecutive times. The white horse reared, and the
+shako of his master fell into the dust, but there was no other result.
+As Maurice pressed the trigger for the fourth time the revolver was
+violently wrenched from his hand, and a thousand needles seemed to be
+quivering in the flesh of his arm and hand.
+
+“My God, what a shot!” he murmured. “I am lost!”
+
+Simultaneous with the fifth and last shot came sensation somewhat like
+that caused by a sound blow in the middle of the back. Strange, but
+he felt no pain, neither was there an accompanying numbness. Then he
+remembered his cuirass, which was of steel an eighth of an inch thick.
+It had saved his life. The needles began to leave his right hand and
+arm, and he knew that he had received no injury other than a shock. He
+passed the saber back to his right hand. He had no difficulty in holding
+it. Gradually his grip grew strong and steady.
+
+Beauvais was now within twenty yards of Maurice. Had he been less eager
+and held his fire up to this point, Maurice had been a dead man. The
+white horse gained every moment. A dull fury grew into life in Maurice's
+heart. Instead of continuing the race, he brought the Mecklenberg to his
+haunches and wheeled. He made straight for Beauvais, who was surprised
+at this change of tactics. In the rush they passed each other and the
+steel hummed spitefully through space. Both wheeled again.
+
+“Your life or mine!” snarled Maurice. His coolness, however, was
+proportionate to his rage. For the first time in his life the lust to
+kill seized him.
+
+“It shall be yours, damn you!” replied Beauvais.
+
+“The Austrian ambassador has your history; kill me or not, you are
+lost.” Maurice made a sweep at his enemy's head and missed.
+
+Beauvais replied in kind, and it flashed viciously off the point of
+Maurice's saber. He had only his life to lose, but it had suddenly
+become precious to him; Beauvais had not only his life, but all that
+made life worth living. His onslaught was terrible. Besides, he was
+fighting against odds; he wore no steel protector. Maurice wore his only
+a moment longer. A cut in the side severed the lacings, and the sagging
+of the cuirass greatly handicapped him. He pressed the spurs and dashed
+away, while Beauvais cursed him for a cowardly cur. Maurice, by this
+maneuver, gained sufficient time to rid himself of the cumbersome steel.
+What he lost in protection, he gained in lightness and freedom. Shortly
+Beauvais was at him again. The time for banter had passed; they fought
+grimly and silently. The end for one was death. Beauvais knew that if
+his antagonist escaped this time the life he longed for, the power and
+honor it promised, would never be his. On his side, Maurice was equally
+determined to live.
+
+The horses plunged and snorted, reared and swayed and bit. Sometimes
+they carried their masters several yards apart, only to come smashing
+together again.
+
+The sun was going down, and a clear, white light prevailed. Afar in
+the field a herd was grazing, but no one would call them to the sheds.
+Master and mistress had long since taken flight.
+
+The duel went on. Maurice was growing tired. By and by he began to rely
+solely on the defense. When they were close, Beauvais played for the
+point; the moment the space widened he took to the edge. He saw what
+Maurice felt--the weakening, and he indulged in a cruel smile. They
+came close; he made as though to give the point. Maurice, thinking
+to anticipate, reached. Quick as light Beauvais raised his blade and
+brought it down with crushing force, standing the while in the stirrups.
+The blow missed Maurice's head by an inch, but it sank so deeply in his
+left shoulder that it splintered the collar bone and stopped within a
+hair of the great artery that runs underneath.
+
+The world turned red, then black. When it grew light again Maurice
+beheld the dripping blade swinging aloft again. Suddenly the black horse
+snapped at the white, which veered. The stroke which would have split
+Maurice's skull in twain, fell on the rear of the saddle, and the blade
+was so firmly imbedded in the wooden molding that Beauvais could not
+withdraw it at once. Blinded by pain as he was, and fainting, yet
+Maurice saw his chance. He thrust with all his remaining strength at
+the brown throat so near him. And the blade went true. The other's body
+stiffened, his head flew back, his eyes started; he clutched wildly at
+the steel, but his hands had not the power to reach it. A bloody foam
+gushed between his lips; his mouth opened; he swayed, and finally
+tumbled into the road--dead.
+
+As Maurice gazed down at him, between the dead eyes and his own there
+passed a vision of a dark-skinned girl, who, if still living, dwelt in a
+lonely convent, thousands of miles away.
+
+Maurice was sensible of but little pain; a pleasant numbness began to
+steal over him. His sleeve was soaked, his left hand was red, and the
+blood dripped from his fingers and made round black spots in the dust of
+the road. A circle of this blackness was widening about the head of the
+fallen man. Maurice watched it, fascinated... He was dead, and the fact
+that he was a prince did not matter.
+
+It seemed to Maurice that his own body was transforming into lead, and
+he vaguely wondered how the horse could bear up such a weight. He was
+sleepy, too. Dimly it came to him that he also must be dying.... No;
+he would not die there, beside this man. He still gripped his saber.
+Indeed, his hand was as if soldered to the wire and leather windings on
+the hilt. Mollendorf had said that Beauvais was invincible.... Beauvais
+was dead. Was he, too, dying?... No; he would not die there. The
+Mecklenberg started forward at a walk; a spur had touched him.
+
+“No!” Maurice cried, throwing off the drowsiness. “My God, I will not
+die here!... Go, boy!” The Mecklenberg set off, loping easily.
+
+His recent enemy, the great white horse, stood motionless in the center
+of the road, and followed him with large, inquiring eyes. He turned
+and looked at the silent huddled mass in the dust at his feet, and
+whinneyed. But he did not move; a foot still remained in the stirrup.
+
+Soon Maurice remembered an episode of his school days, when, in the
+spirit of precocious research, he had applied carbolic acid to his arm.
+It occurred to him that he was now being bathed in that burning fluid.
+He was recovering from the shock. With returning sense came the increase
+of pain, pain so tormenting and exquisite that sobs rose in his throat
+and choked him. Perspiration matted his hair; every breath he took was
+a knife thrust, and the rise and fall of the horse, gentle as it was,
+caused the earth to reel and careen heavenward.
+
+Bleiberg; he was to reach Bleiberg. He repeated this thought over and
+over. Bleiberg, to warn her. Why should he go to Bleiberg to warn her?
+What was he doing here, he who loved life so well? What had led him into
+this?... There had been a battle, but neither army had been cognizant
+of it. He endeavored to move his injured arm, and found it bereft of
+locomotion. The tendons had been cut. And he could not loosen his grip
+on the saber which he held in his right hand. The bridle rein swung from
+side to side.
+
+Rivulets of fire began to run up and down his side; the cords in his
+neck were stiffening. Still the blood went drip, drip, drip, into the
+dust. Would he reach Bleiberg, or would he die on the way? God! for a
+drink of water, cold water. He set his teeth in his lips to neutralize
+the pain in his arm and shoulder. His lips were numb, and the pressure
+of his teeth was as nothing. From one moment to the next he expected
+to drop from the saddle, but somehow he hung on; the spark of life was
+tenacious. The saber dangled on one side, the scabbard on the other. The
+blood, drying in places, drew the skin as tight as a drumhead.
+
+On, on, on; up long inclines, down the steeps; he lost all track
+of time, and the darkness thickened and the stars stood out more
+clearly.... He could look back on a clean life; true, there were some
+small stains, but these were human. Strange fancies jostled one another;
+faces long forgot reappeared; scenes from boyhood rose before him. Home!
+He had none, save that which was the length and breadth of his native
+land. On, on, on; the low snuffle of the horse sometimes aroused him
+from the stupor.
+
+“Why you do this I do not know, nor shall I ask. Monsieur, my prayers
+go with you!”... She had said that to him, and had given him her hand to
+kiss; a princess, one of the chosen and the few. To live long enough to
+see her again; a final service--and adieu!... Ah, but it had been a good
+fight, a good fight. No fine phrases; nothing but the lust for blood;
+a life for a life; a game in which the winner was also like to lose. A
+gray patch in the white of the road attracted his attention--a bridge.
+
+“Water!” he murmured.
+
+Mottled with the silver of the stars, it ran along through the fields;
+a brook, shallow and narrow, but water. The perfume of the grasses was
+sweet; the horse sniffed joyously. He stopped of his own accord. Maurice
+had strength enough to dismount. The saber slid from his grasp. He
+staggered down to the water. In kneeling a faintness passed over him; he
+rolled into the brook and lay there until the water, almost clogging his
+throat and nostrils, revived him. He crawled to his knees, coughing
+and choking. The contact of the cold with the burning wound caused a
+delightful sensation.
+
+“Water!” he said, and splashed it in his face.
+
+The horse had come down from the road. He had not waited for an
+invitation. He drank thirstily at the side of his master. The water
+gurgled in his long, black throat.
+
+“Good boy!” Maurice called, and dashed water against his shoulder. “Good
+boy!” he remembered that the horse in biting the white one had saved his
+life.
+
+Each handful of the cold liquid caused him to gasp; but soon the fever
+and fire died out, leaving only the duller pain. When he rose from his
+knees, however, he found that the world had not yet ceased its wild
+reeling. He stooped to regain his saber, and fell into the dust; though
+to him it was not he who fell, but the earth which rose. He struggled to
+his feet, leaned panting on his saber, and tried to steady himself. He
+laughed hysterically. He had dismounted, but he knew that he could never
+climb to the back of the horse; and Bleiberg might yet be miles away. To
+walk the distance; was it possible? To reach Bleiberg before Madame....
+Madame the duchess and her army! He laughed again, but there was a wild
+strain in his laughter. Ah, God! what a farce it was! One man dead and
+another dying; the beginning and the end of the war. The comic opera!
+La Grande Duchesse! And the fool of an Englishman was playing Fritz! He
+started down the road, his body slouched forward, the saber trailing in
+the dust....
+
+“Voici le sabre de mon pere!”
+
+The hand of madness had touched him. The Mecklenberg followed at his
+heels as a dog would have followed his master.
+
+Less than a mile away a yellow haze wavered in the sky. It was the
+reflection of the city lights.
+
+Maurice passed under the town gates, the wild song on his lips, his eyes
+bloodshot, his hair dank about his brow, conscious of nothing but the
+mad, rollicking rhythm. Nobody molested him; those he met gave him the
+full width of the road. A strange picture they presented, the man and
+the troop horse. Some one recognized the trappings of the horse; half
+an hour later it was known throughout the city that the king's army
+had been defeated and that Madame was approaching. Students began
+their depredations. They built bonfires. They raided the office of the
+official paper, and destroyed the presses and type. Later they marched
+around the Hohenstaufenplatz, yelling and singing.
+
+Once a gendarme tried to stop Maurice and inquire into his business.
+The inquisition was abruptly ended by a cut from the madman's sword.
+The gendarme took to his legs. Maurice continued, and the Mecklenberg
+tramped on after him. Into the Konigstrasse they turned. At this time,
+before the news was known, the street was deserted. Up the center of
+it the man went, his saber scraping along the asphalt, the horse always
+following.
+
+
+
+Voici le sabre de mon pere! Tu vas le mettre a ton cote! Apres la
+victoire, j'espere Te revoir en bonne sante.....
+
+The street lamps swayed; sometimes a dozen revolved on one post, and
+Maurice would stop long enough to laugh. How easy it was to walk! All
+he had to do was to lift a foot, and the pavement would rise to meet it.
+The moon, standing high behind him, cast a long, weird shadow, and he
+staggered after it and cut at it with the saber. It was only when he saw
+the lights of the royal palace and the great globes on the gate posts
+that sanity returned. This sanity was of short duration.
+
+“To the palace!” he cried; “to the palace! To warn her!” And he stumbled
+against the gates, still calling, “To the palace! To the palace!”
+
+The cuirassiers who had been left behind to protect the inmates of the
+palace, were first aroused by the yelling and singing of the students.
+They rushed out of the guard room and came running to the gates, which
+they opened. The body of a man rolled inside. They stopped and examined
+him; the uniform was theirs. The face they looked into was that of the
+handsome young foreigner who, that day, had gone forth from the city, a
+gay and gallant figure, who sat his horse so well that he earned their
+admiration. What could this mean? And where were the others? Had there
+been a desperate battle?
+
+“Run back to the guard room, one of you, and fetch some brandy. He
+lives.” And Lieutenant Scharfenstein took his hand from the insensible
+man's heart. Pulsation was there, but weak and intermittent. “Sergeant,
+take ten men and clear the square. If they refuse to leave, kill! Madame
+is not yet queen by any means.”
+
+The men scattered. One soon returned with the brandy. Scharfenstein
+moistened the wounded man's lips and placed his palm under the nose.
+Shortly Maurice opened his eyes, his half-delirious eyes.
+
+“To the palace!” he said, “to the palace--Ah!” He saw the faces staring
+down at him. He struggled. Instinctively they all stood back. What
+seemed incredible to them, he got to his knees, from his knees to his
+feet, and propped himself against a gate post. “Your life or mine!”
+ he cried. “Come on; a man can die but once!” He lunged, and again they
+retreated. He laughed. “It was a good fight!” He reeled off toward the
+palace steps. They did not hinder him, but they followed, expecting
+each moment to see him fall. But, he fell not. One by one he mounted
+the steps, steadying himself with the saber. He gained the landing, once
+more steadied himself, and vanished into the palace.
+
+“He is out of his head!” cried Scharfenstein, rushing up the steps. “God
+knows what has happened!”
+
+He was in time to see Maurice lurch into the arms of Captain von Mitter,
+who had barred the way to the private apartments.
+
+“Carewe!... What has happened? God's name, you are soaked in blood!” Von
+Mitter held Maurice at arm's length. “A battle?”
+
+“Aye, a battle; one man is dead and another soon will be!” A transient
+lucidity beamed in Maurice's eyes. “We were betrayed by the native
+troops; they ran to meet Madame.... Marshal Kampf, Prince Frederick, and
+the cuirassiers are prisoners.... I escaped. Beauvais, gave chase....
+Wanted to kill me.... He gave me this. I ran him through the throat....
+Knew him in South America.... He's dead! Inform the archbishop and her
+Highness that Madame is nearing the city. The king--”
+
+“Hush!” said von Mitter, with a finger on his lip; “hush! The king died
+at six o'clock. God rest his soul!” He crossed himself. “A disgraceful
+day! Curse the scheming woman, could she not let us bury him in peace?
+Prince Frederick's father refused to send us aid.”
+
+“I am dying,” said Maurice with a sob. “Let me lie down somewhere; if I
+fall I am a dead man.” After a pause: “Take me into the throne room. I
+shall last till Madame comes. Let her find me there.... The brandy!”
+
+Scharfenstein held the flask to the sufferer's lips.
+
+“The throne room?” repeated von Mitter, surprised at this strange
+request. “Well, why not? For what is a throne when there is no king to
+sit on it? You will not die, my friend, though the cut is a nasty one.
+What is an arm? Life is worth a thousand of them! Quick! help me with
+him, Max!” for Maurice was reaching blindly toward him.
+
+The three troopers who had followed Scharfenstein came up, and the five
+of them managed to carry Maurice into the throne room, and deposit him
+on the cushions at the foot of the dais. There they left him.
+
+“Bad!” said von Mitter, as he came limping out into the corridor. “And
+he made such a brave show when he left here this afternoon. I have grown
+to love the fellow. A gallant man. I knew that the native troops were up
+to something. So did the Colonel. Ach! I would give a year of my life
+to have seen him and Beauvais. To kill Beauvais, the best saber in the
+kingdom--it must have been a fight worthy of the legends. A bad day!
+They will laugh at us. But, patience, the archbishop has something to
+say before the curtain falls. Poor young man! He will lose his arm, if
+not his life.”
+
+“But how comes he into all this?” asked Scharfenstein, perplexedly.
+
+“It is not for me or you to question, Max,” said von Mitter, looking
+down. He had his own opinion, but he was not minded to disclose it.
+
+“What are you going to do?”
+
+“Perform my duty until the end,” sourly. “Go you and help against the
+students, who have not manliness enough even to respect the dead. The
+cowardly servants are all gone; save the king's valet. There are only
+seven of us in all. I will seek the king's physician; the dead are dead,
+so let us concern ourselves with the living;” and he limped off toward
+the private apartments.
+
+Scharfenstein hurried away to the square.
+
+In the royal bedchamber a girl murmured over a cold hand. “God pity me;
+I am all, all alone!”
+
+The archbishop was kneeling at the foot of the bed. In his heart was the
+bitterness of loss and defeat. His dreams of greatness for this clay!
+The worldly pomp which was to have attended it! Life was but a warm
+breath on the mirror of eternity; for one the mirror was clear again.
+
+The square soon grew quiet; the students and the cuirassiers had met for
+the last time. In the throne room shadows and silence prevailed.
+Maurice lay upon the cushions, the hilt of the saber still in his hand.
+Consciousness had returned, a clear, penetrating consciousness. At the
+foot of the throne, he thought, and, mayhap, close to one not visible
+to the human eye! What a checkerboard he had moved upon, and now the
+checkmate! So long as the pain did not diminish, he was content; a
+sudden ease was what he dreaded. Life was struggling to retain its hold.
+He did not wish to die; he was young; there were long years to come; the
+world was beautiful, and to love was the glory over it all. He wondered
+if Beauvais still lay in the road where he had left him. Again he could
+see that red saber swinging high; and he shivered.
+
+Half an hour passed, then came the distant murmur of voices, which
+expanded into tumult. The victorious army, the brave and gallant army,
+had entered the city, and was streaming toward the palaces. Huzzas rose
+amid the blaring of bugles. The timorous came forth and added to the
+noise. The conquerors trooped into the palace, and Madame the duchess
+looked with shining eyes at the throne of her forefathers.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII. WORMWOOD AND LEES
+
+Madame, like a statue of expectancy, riveted her gaze on the throne.
+Hers at last! Her dreams were realized. She was no longer a duchess by
+patent; she was a queen by right of inheritance; she was now to be a
+power among the great. The kingdom of her forefathers was hers. She had
+reached the goal without bloodshed; she had been patient, and this was
+her reward. The blaze of her ambition dimmed all other stars. Her bosom
+heaved, triumph flashed in her beautiful eyes, and a smile parted
+her lips. Her first thought had been to establish headquarters in
+the parlors of the Continental Hotel, and from there to summon the
+archbishop, as a conqueror summons the chief of the vanquished. But no;
+she could not wait; above all things she desired the satisfaction of the
+eye. The throne of her forefathers!
+
+“Mine!” she murmured.
+
+Over her shoulders peered eager faces, in which greed and pleasure and
+impassibility were written. One face, however, had on it the dull red of
+shame. Not until now did the full force of his intended dishonesty
+come home to the Englishman; not until now did he realize the complete
+degradation to which his uniform had lowered him. His had been the hand
+to stay this misfortune, and he had not lifted it. This king had been
+his father's friend; and he had taken up arms against him. O, he had
+begun life badly; he was making the end still more dismal. Would this
+woman ever be his? Her promises were not worth the air that had carried
+them to his ear. He, the consort of a queen? A cold sweat dampened his
+forehead. How he loved her! And that kiss.... Queen or not, he would not
+be her dupe, his would not be a tame surrender.
+
+From the Platz and the Park, where the two armies had bivouacked, came
+an intermittent cheering. The flames of bonfires were reflected on the
+windows, throwing out in dull, yellow relief the faces of Madame and her
+staff.
+
+Between the private apartments of the king and the throne room was
+a wide sliding door. Suddenly this opened and closed. With his back
+against it, a pistol in one hand and a saber in the other, stood Captain
+von Mitter, his face cold and resolute. All eyes were instantly directed
+toward him.
+
+“Captain,” said Madame, imperiously, “summon to me Monseigneur the
+archbishop!”
+
+Her command fell on ears of stone. Von Mitter made no sign that he heard
+her.
+
+“Take care, Monsieur,” she warned; “I am mistress here. If you will not
+obey me, my officers will.”
+
+“Madame, I acknowledge no mistress save the daughter of the king. No one
+shall pass this door to announce your presence to Monseigneur.”
+
+This reply was greeted with sundry noises, such as sabers coming from
+scabbards, clicking of pistol locks, and the moving of feet. Madame
+put out her hand suggestively, and the noise ceased. Von Mitter smiled
+disdainfully, but did not stir.
+
+“I warn you, Madame,” he said, “that this is war. I accept all the
+responsibilities of my position. I know nothing of any surrender or
+victory. To me you are simply an enemy. I will kill any one who attempts
+to pass. I should be pleased if General Kronau would make the first step
+to question my sincerity.”
+
+Kronau's fingers twitched around his revolver, but Madame touched his
+arm. She could read faces. The young Captain was in earnest. She would
+temporize.
+
+“Captain, all here are prisoners of war,” she said. “Do not forget that
+soon there will be benefits for those who serve me.”
+
+He laughed rudely. “I ask no benefits from your hands, Madame. I would
+rather stand on the corner and beg.” He sent an insolent, contemptuous
+glance at Kronau, who could not support it. “And now that you have
+gratified your curiosity, I beg you to withdraw to the street. To-night
+this palace is a tomb, and woe to those who commit sacrilege.”
+
+“The king?” she said, struck by a thought which caused a red spot to
+appear on each cheek.
+
+“Is dead. Go and leave us in peace.”
+
+The wine which had tasted so sweet was full of lees, and the cup
+wormwood. Madame looked down, while her officers moved uneasily and
+glanced over their shoulders. Kronau brushed his forehead, to find it
+wet. Madame regretted the surrendering to the impulse. Her haste to
+triumph was lacking both in dignity and judgment. She had given the king
+so little place in her thoughts that the shock of his death confused
+her. And there was something in the calm, fearless contempt of the young
+soldier which embarrassed her.
+
+“In that case, Captain,” she said, her voice uncertain and constrained,
+“bid Monseigneur to wait on me at the Continental.”
+
+“Whenever that becomes convenient, Madame, Monseigneur will certainly
+confer with you and your rascally pack of officers.” He longed for some
+one to spring at him; he longed to strike a blow in earnest.
+
+As he leaned against the door he felt it move. He stepped aside.
+The door rolled back, and her Royal Highness, the archbishop and the
+chancellor passed in. The princess's eyes were like dim stars, but
+her fine nostrils palpitated, and her mouth was rigid in disdain. The
+chancellor looked haggard and dispirited, and he eyed all with the
+listlessness of a man who has given up hope. The prelate's face was as
+finely drawn as an ancient cameo, and as immobile. He gazed at Madame
+with one of those looks which penetrate like acid; and, brave as she
+was, she found it insupportable. There was a tableau of short duration.
+
+“Madame,” said her Royal Highness, with a noble scorn, “what would you
+say if one desecrated your father's tomb while you were kneeling beside
+it? What would you say? In yonder room my father lies dead, and your
+presence here, in whatever role, is an insult. Are you, indeed, a woman?
+Have you no respect for death and sorrow? Was the bauble so precious to
+your sight that you could not wait till the last rites were paid to
+the dead? Is your heart of stone, your mind devoid of pity and of
+conscience? Are you lacking in magnanimity, which is the disposition of
+great souls? Ah, Madame, you will never be great, for you have stooped
+to treachery and deceit. You, a princess! You have purchased with
+glittering promises that which in time would have been given to you.
+And you will not fulfill these promises, for honesty has no part in your
+affair. Shame on you, Madame. By dishonorable means you have gained this
+room. By dishonorable means you destroyed all those props on which my
+father leaned. You knew that he had not long to live. Had you come to
+me as a woman; had you opened your heart to me and confided your
+desires--Ah, Madame, how gladly would I have listened. Whatever it
+signifies to you, this throne is nothing to me. Had you come then--but,
+no! you must come to demand your rights when I am defenseless. You must
+come with a sword when there is none to defend. Is it possible that in
+our veins there runs a kindred blood? And yet, Madame, I forgive you.
+Rule here, if you will; but remember, between you and your crown
+there will always be the shadow of disgrace. Monsieur,” turning toward
+Fitzgerald, whose shame was so great that it engulfed him, “your father
+and mine were friends--I forgive you. Now, Madame, I pray you, go, and
+leave me with my dead.”
+
+The girlhood of Princess Alexia was gone forever.
+
+To Madame this rebuke was like hot iron on the flesh. It left her
+without answer. Her proud spirit writhed. Before those innocent eyes her
+soul lay bare, offering to the gaze an ineffaceable scar. For the
+first time she saw her schemes in their true light. Had any served her
+unselfishly? Aye, there was one. And strangely enough, the first thought
+which formed in her mind when chaos was passed, was of him.
+
+How would this rebuke affect her in his eyes? What was he to her that
+she cared for his respect, his opinion, good or bad? What was the
+meaning of the secret dread? How she hated him for his honesty to her;
+for now perforce she must look up to him. She had stepped down from
+the pinnacle of her pride to which she might never again ascend. He
+had kissed her. How she hated him! And yet... Ah, the wine was flat,
+tinctured with the bitterness of gall, and her own greed had forced the
+cup to her lips. She could not remain silent before this girl; she must
+reply; her shame was too deep to resolve itself into silence.
+
+“Mademoiselle,” she said, “I beg of you to accept my sympathies; but the
+fortunes of war--”
+
+“Ah, Madame,” interrupted the prelate, lifting his white, attenuated
+hand, “we will discuss the fortunes of war--later.”
+
+Madame choked back the sudden gust of rage. She glanced covertly at the
+Englishman. But he, with wide-astonished eyes, was staring at the foot
+of the throne, from which gradually rose a terrible figure, covered with
+blood and caked with drying clay. The figure leaned heavily on the hilt
+of a saber, and swayed unsteadily. He drew all eyes.
+
+“Ha!” he said, with a prolonged, sardonic intonation, “is that you,
+Madame the duchess? You are talking of war? What! and you, my lord the
+Englishman? Ha! and war? Look at me, Madame; I have been in a battle,
+the only one fought to-day. Look at me! Here is the mark of that friend
+who watched over your interests. But where is he? Eh? Where? Did you
+pick him up on the way?.... He is dead. For all that he was a rascal,
+he died like a man... .. as presently I shall die! Princes and kings and
+thrones; the one die and the other crumble, but truth lives on. And you,
+Madame, have learned the truth. Shame on your mean and little souls!
+There was only one honest man among you, and you dishonored him. The
+Marshal... I do not see him. An honest man dies but once, but a traitor
+dies a thousand deaths. Kronau... is that your name? It was an
+honest one once. And the paltry ends you gain!.... The grand duchess
+of Gerolstein!.... What a comic opera! Not even music to go by! Eh,
+you,--you Englishman, has Madame made you a Lieutenant?--a Captain?--a
+General? What a farce! Nobles, you? I laugh at you all for a pack of
+thieves, who are not content with the purse, but must add honor to the
+bag. A man is what he makes himself. Medals and clothes, medals and
+clothes; that is the sum of your nobility!” He laughed, but the laughter
+choked in his throat, and he staggered a few paces away from the throne.
+
+“Seize him!” cried Madame.
+
+When the men sprang forward to execute this command, Fitzgerald barred
+the way.
+
+“No,” he said doggedly; “you shall not touch him.”
+
+“Stand aside, Monsieur,” said Madame, determined to vent her rage on
+some one.
+
+“Madame,” said von Mitter, “I will shoot down the first man who lays a
+hand on Monsieur Carewe.”
+
+The princess, her heart beating wildly at the sudden knowledge that lay
+written on the inner vision, a faintness stealing away her sight, leaned
+back against the prelate.
+
+“He is dying,” she whispered; “he is dying for me!”
+
+Maurice was now in the grasp of the final delirium. “Come on!” he cried;
+“come on! I will show you how a brave man can die. Come on, Messieurs
+Medals and Clothes! Aye, who will go out with me?” He raised the saber,
+and it caught the flickering light as it trailed a circle above his
+head. He stumbled toward them, sweeping the air with the blade. Suddenly
+there came a change. He stopped. The wild expression faded from his
+face; a surprised look came instead. The saber slipped from his fingers
+and clanged on the floor. He turned and looked at the princess, and that
+glance conveyed to her the burden of his love. “Mademoiselle....” His
+knees doubled, he sank, rolled face downward, and a dark stain appeared
+and widened on the marble floor.
+
+“Go, Madame,” said the prelate. “This palace is indeed a tomb.” He felt
+the princess grow limp on his arm. “Go.”
+
+“Maurice!” cried Fitzgerald, springing to the side of the fallen man.
+“My God! Maurice!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII. INTO THE HANDS OF AUSTRIA
+
+Madame, surrounded by her staff and courtiers, sat in the main salon
+of the Continental Hotel, waiting for the archbishop. The false,
+self-seeking ministers of Leopold's reign crowded around her to pay
+their respects, to compliment and to flatter her. Already they saw a
+brilliant court; already they were speculating on their appointments.
+Offices were plenty; new embassies were to be created, old embassies to
+be filled anew.
+
+Madame listened to all coldly. There was a canker in her heart, and no
+one who saw that calm, beautiful face of hers dreamed how deeply the
+canker was eating. There were two men who held aloof from compliments
+and flattery. On the face of one rested a moody scowl; on the other,
+agony and remorse. These two men were Colonel Mollendorf and Lord
+Fitzgerald. The same thought occupied each mind; the scene in the throne
+room.
+
+Presently an orderly announced: “Monseigneur the archbishop.”
+
+Madame arose, and all looked expectantly, toward the door.
+
+The old prelate entered, his head high and his step firm. He appeared
+to see no one but Madame. But this time she met his glance without a
+tremor.
+
+“Monseigneur,” she began, “I have come into my own at last. But for you
+and your ambitious schemes, all this would not have come to pass. You
+robbed my father of his throne and set your puppet there instead. By
+trickery my father was robbed of his lawful inheritance. By trickery I
+was compelled to regain it. However, I do not wish to make an enemy of
+you, Monseigneur. I have here two letters. They come from Rome. In one
+is your recall, in the other a cardinal's hat. Which do you prefer?”
+
+“Surely not the cardinal's hat,” said the prelate. “Listen to me,
+Madame, for I have something to say to you which will cause you some
+reflection. If I had any ambitions, they are gone; if I had any dreams,
+they have vanished. Madame, some twenty years ago your duchy was
+created. It was not done to please Albrecht's younger brother, the duke,
+your father. Albrecht was childless. When your father was given the
+duchy it was done to exclude forever the house of Auersperg from
+reigning on this throne. You say that you were tricked; well, and so was
+I. Unhappily I touched the deeper current too late.
+
+“This poor king, who lies silent in the palace, was not my puppet.
+I wished to make him great, and bask in his greatness. But in that I
+failed; because Leopold was a poet and a philosopher, and the greatness
+of earthly things did not concern him. Leopold and I were dupes of
+Austria, as you are at this moment, Madame. So long as Leopold reigned
+peacefully he was not to be disturbed. Had you shown patience and
+resignation, doubtless to-day you would be a queen. You will never be
+more than a duchess.
+
+“Madame, you have done exactly as Austria intended you should. There
+is no longer any kingdom.” There was a subdued triumph in his eyes. “To
+you,” with a gesture toward the courtiers and office-seekers, “to you I
+shall say, your own blind self-interest has destroyed you. Madame, you
+are bearing arms not against this kingdom, but against Austria, since
+from to-day this land becomes the property of the imperial crown. If you
+struggle, it will be futilely. For, by this move of yours, Austria
+will declare that this kingdom is a menace to the tranquility of the
+confederation. Madame, there is no corner-stone to your edifice. This is
+what I wished to say to you. I have done. Permit me to withdraw.”
+
+For a moment his auditors were spellbound; then all the emotions of the
+mind and heart portrayed themselves on the circle of faces. Madame's
+face alone was inscrutable.
+
+“His Excellency, the Austrian ambassador!” announced the orderly.
+
+The archbishop bowed and left the apartment.
+
+“Your Highness,” began the Austrian, “his Imperial Majesty commands your
+immediate evacuation of Bleiberg, and that you delay not your departure
+to the frontier. This kingdom is a crown land. It shall remain so by the
+consent of the confederation. If you refuse to obey this injunction,
+an army will enforce the order. Believe me, Madame, this office is
+distasteful to me, but it was not avoidable. What disposition am I to
+submit to his Majesty?”
+
+“Monsieur,” she said, “I am without choice in the matter. To pit my
+forces against the emperor's would be neither politic nor sensible. I
+submit.” There was not a sign of any emotion, no hint of the terrible
+wrath which lay below the surface of those politely modulated tones. But
+it seemed to her as she stood there, the object of all eyes, that some
+part of her soul had died. Her pride surmounted the humiliation, the
+pride of a woman and a princess. She would show no weakness to the
+world.
+
+“Then, Madame,” said the ambassador, suppressing the admiration in his
+eyes at this evidence of royal nonchalance, “I shall inform his Majesty
+at once.”
+
+When he had gone, Madame turned coldly to her stricken followers.
+“Messieurs, the fortunes of war are not on our side. I thank you for
+your services. Now leave me; I wish to be alone.”
+
+One by one they filed out into the corridors. The orderly was the last
+to leave, and he closed the door behind him. Madame surveyed the room.
+All the curtains were drawn. She was alone. She stood idly fingering the
+papers which lay scattered on the table. Suddenly she lifted her hands
+above her head and clenched them in a burst of silent rage. A dupe!
+doubly a dupe! To-morrow the whole world would laugh at her, and she was
+without means of wreaking vengeance. Presently the woman rose above the
+princess. She sat down, laid her face on her arms and wept.
+
+Fitzgerald stepped from behind one of the curtains. He had taken refuge
+there during the archbishop's speech. He had not the strength to witness
+the final humiliation of the woman he loved. He was gazing out of the
+window at the troops in the Platz when the door closed.
+
+Madame heard the rustle of the curtain and looked up. She sprang to her
+feet, her eyes blazing.
+
+“You?” she cried. “You? You have dared to hide that you might witness my
+weakness and my tears? You....”
+
+“Madame!”
+
+“Go! I hate you!”
+
+“Ah, Madame, we always hate those whom we have wronged. Do not forget
+that I love you, with a love that passes convention.”
+
+“Monsieur, I am yet a princess. Did you not hear me bid you go?”
+
+“Why?” in a voice singularly free from agitation. “Because I am the only
+man who has served you unselfishly? Is that the reason, Madame? You have
+laughed at me. I love you. You have broken me. I love you. I can never
+look an honest man in the face again. I love you. Though the shade of
+my father should rise to accuse me, still would I say that I love you.
+Madame, will you find another love like mine, the first love of a man
+who will know no second? Forgive me if I rejoice in your despair, for
+your despair is my hope. As a queen you would be too far away; but in
+your misfortune you come so near! Madame, I shall follow you wherever
+you go to tell you that I love you. You will never be able to shut your
+ears to my voice; far or near, you will always hear me saying that I
+love you. Ambition soars but a little way; love has no fetters. Madame,
+your lips were given to me. Can you forget that?”
+
+“Monsieur, what do you wish?” subdued by the fervor of his tones.
+
+“You! nothing in the world but you.”
+
+“Princesses such as I am do not wed for love. What! you take advantage
+of my misfortune, the shattering of my dreams, to force your love upon
+me?”
+
+“Madame,” the pride of his race lighting his eyes, “confess to me that
+you did not win my love to play with it. If my heart was necessary to
+your happiness, which lay in these shattered dreams, tell me, and I will
+go. My love is so great that it does not lack generosity.”
+
+For reply she sorted the papers and extended a blood-stained packet
+toward him. “Here, Monsieur, are your consols.” But the moment his hand
+touched them, she made as though to take them back. On the top of
+the packet was the letter she had written to him, and on which he had
+written his scornful reply to her. She paled as she saw him unfold it.
+
+“So, Madame, my love was a pastime?” He came close to her, and his look
+was like an invisible hand bearing down on her. “Madame, I will go.”
+
+“No, no!” she cried, yielding to the impulse which suddenly laid hold
+of her. “Not you! You shall not misjudge me. No, not you! Those consols
+were given to me by the woman of your guide, Kopf, who found them no one
+knows how. They were given to me this morning. That letter..... I did
+not intend that you should see it. No, Monsieur; you shall not misjudge
+the woman, however you judge the princess. Forgive me, it was not the
+woman who sought your love; it was the princess who had need of it.
+
+“I thought it would be but a passing fancy. I did not dream of this end.
+To-morrow I shall be laughed at, and I cannot defend myself as a man
+can. I must submit; I must smile and cover my chagrin. O, Monsieur,
+do not speak to me of love; there is nothing in my heart but rage and
+bitterness. To stoop as I have stooped, and in vain! I am defeated; I
+must remain passive; like a whipped child I am driven away. Talk not of
+love to me. I am without illusion.” She fell to weeping, and to him she
+was lovelier in her tears than ever in her smiles. For would she have
+shown this weakness to any but himself, and was it not a sign that he
+was not wholly indifferent to her?
+
+“Madame, what is it?” he cried, on his knees before her. “What is it? Do
+you wish a crown? Find me a kingdom, and I will buy it for you. Be mine,
+and woe to those who dare to laugh! Ah, could I but convince you that
+love is above crowns and kingdoms, the only glimpse we have on earth
+of Paradise. There is no boundary to the dreams; no horizons; a vast,
+beautiful wilderness, and you and I together. There are no storms, no
+clouds. Ambition, the god of schemes, finds no entrance. Ah, how I love
+you! Your face is ever before me, waking or sleeping. All thoughts
+are merged into one, and that is of you. Self has dropped out of my
+existence. Forget that you are a princess; remember only that you are a
+woman, and that I love you.”
+
+Love has the key to eloquence. Madame forgot her vanished dreams; the
+bitterness in her heart subsided. That mysterious, indefinable thrill,
+which every woman experiences when a boundless love is laid at her feet,
+passed through her, leaving her sensible to a delicious languor. This
+man was strong in himself, yet weak before her, and from his weakness
+she gained a visible strength. Convention was nothing to him; that she
+was of royal blood was still less. What other man would have dared her
+wrath as he had done?
+
+Nobility, she thought, was based on the observance of certain laws.
+Around the central star were lesser stars, from which the central star
+drew its radiance. Whenever one of these stars deviates from its orbit,
+the glory of the central star is diminished. To accept the love of the
+Englishman would be a blow to the pride of Austria. She smiled.
+
+“Monsieur,” she said, in a hesitating voice, “Monsieur, I am indeed a
+woman. You ask me if I can forget that I offered you my lips? No. Nor do
+I wish to. Why did I permit you to kiss me? I do not know. I could not
+analyze the impulse if I tried. Monsieur, I am a woman who demands
+much from those who serve her. I am capricious; my moods vary; I am
+unfamiliar with sentiment; I hate oftener than I love. Listen. There is
+a canker in my heart, made there by vanity. When it heals--well--mayhap
+you will find the woman you desire. Mind you, I make no promises.
+Follow me, if you will, but have patience; love me if you must, but in
+silence;” and with a gesture which was not without a certain fondness,
+she laid her hand upon his head.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX. INTO STILL WATERS AND SILENCE
+
+Into the princess's own chamber they carried Maurice, and laid him on
+the white bed. Thus would she have it. No young man had ever before
+entered that sacred chapel of her maiden dreams. Beside the bed was
+a small prie-dieu; and she knelt upon the cushion and rested her brow
+against the crucifix. The archbishop covered his eyes, and the state
+physician bent his head. Chastity and innocence at the feet of God; yet,
+not even these can hold back the fleeting breath of life. She asked God
+to forgive her the bitterness in her heart; she prayed for strength
+to repel the weakness in her limbs. Presently she rose, an angelic
+sweetness on her face. She looked down at Maurice; there was no sign of
+life, save in the fitful drawing in of the nether lip. She dampened a
+cloth and wiped the sweat of agony from the marble brow.
+
+“O, if only he might live!” she cried. “And he will not?”
+
+“No, your Highness,” said the physician. “He has perhaps an hour.
+Extraordinary vitality alone is the cause of his living so long. He has
+lost nearly all the blood in his body. It was a frightful wound. He is
+dying, but he may return to consciousness before the end.”
+
+The archbishop, with somber eyes, contemplated the pale, handsome face,
+which lay motionless against the pillow. His thoughts flew back to his
+own youth, to the long years which had filled the gap between. Friends
+had come and gone, loved ones vanished; and still he stood, like an oak
+in the heart of a devastated forest, alone. Why had he been spared,
+and to what end? Ah, how old he was, how very old! To live beyond the
+allotted time, was not that a punishment for some transgression? His
+eyes shone through a mist of tears.
+
+The princess, too, contemplated the face of the dying man. How many
+times had that face accompanied her in her dreams! How familiar she was
+with every line of it, the lips, that turned inward when they smiled;
+the certain lock of hair that fell upon the forehead! And yet, she
+had seen the face in reality less than half a dozen times. Why had it
+entered so persistently into her dreams? Why had the flush risen to her
+cheeks at the thought? At another time she would have refused to listen
+to the voice which answered; but now, as the object of her thoughts
+lay dying on her pillow, her mind would not play truant to her heart.
+Sometimes the approach of love is so imperceptible that it does not
+provoke analysis. We wake suddenly to find it in our hearts, so strong
+and splendid that we submit without question.... All, all her dreams had
+vanished, the latest and the fairest. Across the azure of her youth
+had come and gone a vague, beautiful flash of love. The door of earthly
+paradise had opened and closed. That delicate string which vibrates with
+the joy of living seemed parted; her heart was broken, and her young
+breast a tomb. With straining eyes she continued to gaze. The invisible
+arms of her love clasped Maurice to her heart and held him there. Only
+that day he had stood before her, a delight to the eye; and she had
+given him her hand to kiss. How bravely he had gone forth from the city!
+She had followed him with her ardent gaze until he was no longer to be
+seen. And now he lay dying.... for her.
+
+“Monsieur,” she said, turning to the physician, “I have something to say
+to Monseigneur.”
+
+The physician bowed and passed into the boudoir, the door of which he
+closed.
+
+“Father,” she said to the prelate, “I have no secrets from you.” She
+pointed to Maurice. “I love him. I know not why. He comes from a foreign
+land; his language nor his people are mine, and yet the thought of him
+has filled my soul. I have talked to him but four different times; and
+yet I love him. Why? I can not tell. The mind has no power to rule the
+impulse of love. Were he to live, perhaps my love would be a sin. Is it
+not strange, father, that I love him? I have lost parental love; I am
+losing a love a woman holds priceless above all others. He is dying
+because of me. He loves me. I read it in his eyes just before he fell.
+Perhaps it is better for him and for me that he should die, for if he
+lived I could not live without him. Father, do I sin?”
+
+“No, my child,” and the prelate closed his eyes.
+
+“I have been so lonely,” she said, “so alone. I craved the love of the
+young. He was so different from any man I had met before. His bright,
+handsome face seemed constantly with me.”
+
+At this moment Maurice's breast rose and fell in a long sigh. Presently
+the lids of his eyes rolled upward. Consciousness had returned. His
+wandering gaze first encountered the sad, austere visage of the prelate.
+
+“Monseigneur?” he said, faintly.
+
+“Do you wish absolution, my son?”
+
+“I am dying...?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“I am dying.... God has my account and he will judge it. I am not a
+Catholic, Monseigneur.” He turned his head. “Your Highness?” He roved
+about the room with his eyes and discerned the feminine touch in all the
+appointments.
+
+“Where am I?”
+
+“You are in my room, Monsieur,” she said. Her voice broke, but she met
+his eyes with a brave smile. “Is there anything we can do for you?”
+
+“Nothing. I am alone. To die.... Well, one time or another. And yet, it
+is a beautiful world, when we but learn it, full of color and life and
+love. I am young; I do not wish to die. And now... even in the midst...
+to go... where? Monseigneur, I am dying; to me princes and kings signify
+nothing. That is not to say that they ever did. In the presence of death
+we are all equal. Living, I might not speak; dying... since I have but a
+little while to stay... I may speak?”
+
+“Yes, my son, speak. Her Highness will listen.”
+
+“It is to her Highness that I wish to speak.”
+
+Her lips quivered and she made no secret of her tears. “What is it you
+wish to say to me, Monsieur Carewe?” She smoothed his forehead, and the
+touch of her hand made him forget his pain.
+
+“Ah, I know not how to begin,” he said. “Forgive me if I offend your
+ears.... I have been foolish even to dream of it, but I could not help
+it.... When first I saw you in the garden.. the old dog was beside
+you.... Even then it came to me that my future was linked to the thought
+of you. I did not know you were so far beyond.... I was very cold, but
+I dared not let you know it, for fear you would lead me at once to the
+gate. That night wherever I looked I saw you. I strove to think of some
+way to serve you, but I could not. I was so obscure. I never thought
+that you would remember me again; but you did... That afternoon in the
+carriage... I wanted to tell you then. That rose you dropped... it is
+still on my heart. I loved you, and to this end. And I am glad to die,
+for in this short fortnight I have lived.... My mother used to call me
+Maurice ... to hear a woman repeat it again before I go.”
+
+“Maurice.” She took his hand timidly in hers, and looked at the
+archbishop.
+
+“Speak to him from your heart, my child,” said the prelate. “It will
+comfort you both.”
+
+Suddenly she drooped and the tears fell upon the hand in hers.
+“Maurice,” she whispered, “you have not loved in vain.” She could utter
+no more; but she raised her head and looked into his eyes, and he saw
+the glory of the world in hers.
+
+“Into still waters and silence,” he said softly. “No more pain, nor joy,
+nor love; silence.... You love me!... Alexia; how often have I repeated
+that name to myself.... I have not strength to lift your hand to my
+lips.”
+
+She kissed him on the lips. She felt as if she, too, were dying.
+
+“God guard your Highness,” he said. “It is dark.... I do not see you....”
+
+He tried to raise himself, but he could not. He sank back, settled
+deeply into the pillow, and smiled. After that he lay very still.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Puppet Crown, by Harold MacGrath
+
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+<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?>
+
+<!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" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <title>
+      The Puppet Crown, by Harold Macgrath
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+    body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify}
+    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
+    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
+    div.fig    { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+    div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; }
+    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+    .pagenum   {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal;
+               margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%;
+               text-align: right;}
+    pre        { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+
+</style>
+  </head>
+  <body>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Puppet Crown, by Harold MacGrath
+
+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 Puppet Crown
+
+Author: Harold MacGrath
+
+Release Date: February 21, 2009 [EBook #3239]
+Last Updated: March 16, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PUPPET CROWN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Franks, the Distributed Proofreading Team, and David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <h1>
+      THE PUPPET CROWN
+    </h1>
+    <p>
+      <br />
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      by Harold MacGrath
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <h4>
+      TO THE MEMORY OF THAT GOOD FRIEND<br /> AND<br /> COMRADE OF MY YOUTH<br />
+      MY FATHER
+    </h4>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <blockquote>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big>
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        <br /> <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE SCEPTER
+        WHICH WAS A STICK <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        COUP D'ETAT OF COUSIN JOSEF <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER
+        III. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;AN EPISODE TEN YEARS AFTER <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;AN ADVENTURE WITH
+        ROYALTY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;BEHIND
+        THE PUPPET BOOTH <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MADEMOISELLE
+        OF THE VEIL <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;SOME
+        DIALOGUE, A SPRAINED ANKLE, AND SOME SOLDIERS <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE RED CHATEAU
+        <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;NOTHING
+        MORE SERIOUS THAN A HOUSE PARTY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0010">
+        CHAPTER X. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;BEING OF LONG RIDES, MAIDS, KISSES AND
+        MESSAGES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        DENOUEMENT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;WHOM
+        THE GODS DESTROY AND A FEW OTHERS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0013">
+        CHAPTER XIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;BEING OF COMPLICATIONS NOT RECKONED ON
+        <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;QUI
+        M'AIME, AIME MON CHIEN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV.
+        </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;IN WHICH FORTUNE BECOMES CARELESS AND PRODIGAL <br /><br />
+        <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;WHAT HAPPENED AT
+        THE ARCHBISHOP'S PALACE AND AFTER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0017">
+        CHAPTER XVII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;SOME PASSAGES AT ARMS <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A MINOR CHORD AND A
+        CHANGE OF MOVEMENT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+        CHANCE RIDE IN THE NIGHT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX.
+        </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE LAST STAND OF A BAD SERVANT <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A COURT FETE AT THE
+        RED CHATEAU <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;IN
+        WHICH MAURICE RECURS TO OFFENBACH <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0023">
+        CHAPTER XXIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A GAME OF POKER AND THE STAKES <br /><br />
+        <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE PRISONER OF
+        THE RED CHATEAU <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        FORTUNES OF WAR <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+        PAGE FROM TASSO <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;WORMWOOD
+        AND LEES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;INTO
+        THE HANDS OF AUSTRIA <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX.
+        </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;INTO STILL WATERS AND SILENCE <br /><br />
+      </p>
+    </blockquote>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+             Ah Love! Could you and I with Him conspire
+             To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire
+               Would not we shatter it to bits&mdash;and then
+             Re-mold it nearer to the Heart's desire!
+
+                            &mdash;Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam
+        </pre>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER I. THE SCEPTER WHICH WAS A STICK
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The king sat in his private garden in the shade of a potted orange tree,
+      the leaves of which were splashed with brilliant yellow. It was high noon
+      of one of those last warm sighs of passing summer which now and then
+      lovingly steal in between the chill breaths of September. The velvet hush
+      of the mid-day hour had fallen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was an endless horizon of turquoise blue, a zenith pellucid as
+      glass. The trees stood motionless; not a shadow stirred, save that which
+      was cast by the tremulous wings of a black and purple butterfly, which,
+      near to his Majesty, fell, rose and sank again. From a drove of wild bees,
+      swimming hither and thither in quest of the final sweets of the year, came
+      a low murmurous hum, such as a man sometimes fancies he hears while
+      standing alone in the vast auditorium of a cathedral.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king, from where he sat, could see the ivy-clad towers of the
+      archbishop's palace, where, in and about the narrow windows, gray and
+      white doves fluttered and plumed themselves. The garden sloped gently
+      downward till it merged into a beautiful lake called the Werter See,
+      which, stretching out several miles to the west, in the heart of the
+      thick-wooded hills, trembled like a thin sheet of silver.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Toward the south, far away, lay the dim, uneven blue line of the Thalian
+      Alps, which separated the kingdom that was from the duchy that is, and the
+      duke from his desires. More than once the king leveled his gaze in that
+      direction, as if to fathom what lay behind those lordly rugged hills.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was in the air the delicate odor of the deciduous leaves which,
+      every little while, the king inhaled, his eyes half-closed and his
+      nostrils distended. Save for these brief moments, however, there rested on
+      his countenance an expression of disenchantment which came of the
+      knowledge of a part ill-played, an expression which described a
+      consciousness of his unfitness and inutility, of lethargy and weariness
+      and distaste.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To be weary is the lot of kings, it is a part of their royal prerogative;
+      but it is only a great king who can be weary gracefully. And Leopold was
+      not a great king; indeed, he was many inches short of the ideal; but he
+      was philosophical, and by the process of reason he escaped the pitfalls
+      which lurk in the path of peevishness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To know the smallness of the human atom, the limit of desire, the
+      existence of other lives as precious as their own, is not the philosophy
+      which makes great kings. Philosophy engenders pity; and one who possesses
+      that can not ride roughshod over men, and that is the business of kings.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As for Leopold, he would rather have wandered the byways of Kant than
+      studied royal etiquette. A crown had been thrust on his head and a scepter
+      into his hand, and, willy-nilly, he must wear the one and wield the other.
+      The confederation had determined the matter shortly before the
+      Franco-Prussian war.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The kingdom that was, an admixture of old France and newer Austria, was a
+      gateway which opened the road to the Orient, and a gateman must be placed
+      there who would be obedient to the will of the great travelers, were they
+      minded to pass that way. That is to say, the confederation wanted a
+      puppet, and in Leopold they found a dreamer, which served as well. That
+      glittering bait, a crown, had lured him from his peaceful Osian hills and
+      valleys, and now he found that his crown was of straw and his scepter a
+      stick.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He longed to turn back, for his heart lay in a tomb close to his castle
+      keep, but the way back was closed. He had sold his birthright. So he
+      permitted his ministers to rule his kingdom how they would, and gave
+      himself up to dreams. He had been but a cousin of the late king, whereas
+      the duke of the duchy that is had been a brother. But cousin Josef was
+      possessed of red hair and a temper which was redder still, and, moreover,
+      a superlative will, bending to none, and laughing at those who tried to
+      bend him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He would have been a king to the tip of his fiery hair; and it was for
+      this very reason that his subsequent appeals for justice and his rights
+      fell on unheeding ears. The confederation feared Josef; therefore they
+      dispossessed him. Thus Leopold sat on the throne, while his Highness bit
+      his nails and swore, impotent to all appearances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Leopold leaned forward from his seat. In his hand he held a riding stick
+      with which he drew shapeless pictures in the yellow gravel of the path.
+      His brows were drawn over contemplative eyes, and the hint of a sour smile
+      lifted the corners of his lips. Presently the brows relaxed, and his gaze
+      traveled to the opposite side of the path, where the British minister sat
+      in the full glare of the sun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the middle of the path, as rigid as a block of white marble, reposed a
+      young bulldog, his moist black nose quivering under the repeated attacks
+      of a persistent insect. It occurred to the king that there was a
+      resemblance between the dog and his master, the Englishman. The same heavy
+      jaws were there, the same fearless eyes, the same indomitable courage for
+      the prosecution of a purpose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A momentary regret passed through him that he had not been turned from a
+      like mold. Next his gaze shifted to the end of the path, where a young
+      Lieutenant stood idly kicking pebbles, his cuirass flaming in the dazzling
+      sunshine. Soon the drawing in the gravel was resumed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The British minister made little of the three-score years which were
+      closing in on him, after the manner of an army besieging a citadel. He was
+      full of animal exuberance, and his eyes, a trifle faded, it must be
+      admitted, were still keenly alive and observant. He was big of bone,
+      florid of skin, and his hair&mdash;what remained of it&mdash;was wiry and
+      bleached. His clothes, possibly cut from an old measure, hung loosely
+      about the girth&mdash;a sign that time had taken its tithe. For
+      thirty-five years he had served his country by cunning speeches and bursts
+      of fine oratory; he had wandered over the globe, lulling suspicions here
+      and arousing them there, a prince of the art of diplomacy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had not been sent here to watch this kingdom. He was touching a deeper
+      undercurrent, which began at St. Petersburg and moved toward Central Asia,
+      Turkey and India, sullenly and irresistibly. And now his task was done,
+      and another was to take his place, to be a puppet among puppets. He feared
+      no man save his valet, who knew his one weakness, the love of a son on
+      whom he had shut his door, which pride forbade him to open. This son had
+      chosen the army, when a fine diplomatic career had been planned&mdash;a
+      small thing, but it sufficed. Even now a word from an humbled pride would
+      have reunited father and son, but both refused to speak this word.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The diplomat in turn watched the king as he engaged in the aimless
+      drawing. His meditation grew retrospective, and his thoughts ran back to
+      the days when he first befriended this lonely prince, who had come to
+      England to learn the language and manners of the chill islanders. He had
+      been handsome enough in those days, this Leopold of Osia, gay and eager,
+      possessing an indefinable charm which endeared him to women and made him
+      respected of men. To have known him then, the wildest stretch of fancy
+      would never have placed him on this puppet throne, surrounded by enemies,
+      menaced by his adopted people, rudderless and ignorant of statecraft.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fate is the cup,&rdquo; the diplomat mused, &ldquo;and the human life the ball, and
+      it's toss, toss, toss, till the ball slips and falls into eternity.&rdquo; Aloud
+      he said, &ldquo;Your Majesty seems to be well occupied.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; replied the king, smiling. &ldquo;I am making crowns and scratching them
+      out again&mdash;usurping the gentle pastime of their most Christian
+      Majesties, the confederation. A pretty bauble is a crown, indeed&mdash;at
+      a distance. It is a fine thing to wear one&mdash;in a dream. But to
+      possess one in the real, and to wear it day by day with the eternal fear
+      of laying it down and forgetting where you put it, or that others plot to
+      steal it, or that you wear it dishonestly&mdash;Well, well, there are
+      worse things than a beggar's crust.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No one is honest in this world, save the brute,&rdquo; said the diplomat,
+      touching the dog with his foot. &ldquo;Honesty is instinctive with him, for he
+      knows no written laws. The gold we use is stamped with dishonesty,
+      notwithstanding the beautiful mottoes; and so long as we barter and sell
+      for it, just so long we remain dishonest. Yes, you wear your crown
+      dishonestly but lawfully, which is a nice distinction. But is any crown
+      worn honestly? If it is not bought with gold, it is bought with lies and
+      blood. Sire, your great fault, if I may speak, is that you haven't
+      continued to be dishonest. You should have filled your private coffers,
+      but you have not done so, which is a strange precedent to establish. You
+      should have increased taxation, but you have diminished it; you should
+      have forced your enemy's hand four years ago, when you ascended the
+      throne, but you did not; and now, for all you know, his hand may be too
+      strong. Poor, dishonest king! When you accepted this throne, which belongs
+      to another, you fell as far as possible from moral ethics. And now you
+      would be honest and be called dull, and dream, while your ministers profit
+      and smile behind your back. I beg your Majesty's pardon, but you have
+      always requested that I should speak plainly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king laughed; he enjoyed this frank friend. There was an essence of
+      truth and sincerity in all he said that encouraged confidence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed, I shall be sorry to have you go tomorrow,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;for I
+      believe if you stayed here long enough you would truly make a king of me.
+      Be frank, my friend, be always frank; for it is only on the base of
+      frankness that true friendship can rear itself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are only forty-eight,&rdquo; said the Englishman; &ldquo;you are young.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, my friend,&rdquo; replied the king with a tinge of sadness, &ldquo;it is not the
+      years that age us; it is how we live them. In the last four years I have
+      lived ten. To-day I feel so very old! I am weary of being a king. I am
+      weary of being weary, and for such there is no remedy. Truly I was not cut
+      from the pattern of kings; no, no. I am handier with a book than with a
+      scepter; I'd liever be a man than a puppet, and a puppet I am&mdash;a
+      figurehead on the prow of the ship, but I do not guide it. Who care for me
+      save those who have their ends to gain? None, save the archbishop, who yet
+      dreams of making a king of me. And these are not my people who surround
+      me; when I die, small care. I shall have left in the passing scarce a
+      finger mark in the dust of time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, Sire, if only you would be cold, unfriendly, avaricious. Be stone and
+      rule with a rod of iron. Make the people fear you, since they refuse to
+      love you; be stone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can mold lead, but you can not sculpture it; and I am lead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; not only the metal, but the verb intransitive. Ah, could the fires
+      of ambition light your soul!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My soul is a blackened grate of burnt-out fires, of which only a coal
+      remains.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And the king turned in his seat and looked across the crisp green lawns to
+      the beds of flowers, where, followed by a maid at a respectful distance, a
+      slim young girl in white was cutting the hardy geraniums, dahlias and seed
+      poppies.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God knows what her legacy will be!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is for you to make it, Sire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Both men continued to remark the girl. At length she came toward them, her
+      arms laden with flowers. She was at the age of ten, with a beautiful,
+      serious face, which some might have called prophetic. Her hair was dark,
+      shining like coal and purple, and gossamer in its fineness; her skin had
+      the blue-whiteness of milk; while from under long black lashes two
+      luminous brown eyes looked thoughtfully at the world. She smiled at the
+      king, who eyed her fondly, and gave her unengaged hand to the Englishman,
+      who kissed it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And how is your Royal Highness this fine day? he asked, patting the hand
+      before letting it go.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you have a dahlia, Monsieur?&rdquo; With a grave air she selected a flower
+      and slipped it through his button-hole.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does your Highness know the language of the flowers?&rdquo; the Englishman
+      asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dahlias signify dignity and elegance; you are dignified, Monsieur, and
+      dignity is elegance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well!&rdquo; cried the Englishman, smiling with pleasure; &ldquo;that is turned as
+      adroitly as a woman of thirty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And am I not to have one?&rdquo; asked the king, his eyes full of paternal love
+      and pride.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are for your Majesty's table,&rdquo; she answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Majesty!&rdquo; cried the king in mimic despair. &ldquo;Was ever a father
+      treated thus? Your Majesty! Do you not know, my dear, that to me 'father'
+      is the grandest title in the world?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly she crossed over and kissed the king on the cheek, and he held
+      her to him for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The bulldog had risen, and was wagging his tail the best he knew how. If
+      there was any young woman who could claim his unreserved admiration, it
+      was the Princess Alexia. She never talked nonsense to him in their rambles
+      together, but treated him as he should be treated, as an animal of
+      enlightenment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And here is Bull,&rdquo; said the princess, tickling the dog's nose with a
+      scarlet geranium.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Highness thinks a deal of Bull?&rdquo; said the dog's master.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Monsieur, he doesn't bark, and he seems to understand all I say to
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The dog looked up at his master as if to say: &ldquo;There now, what do you
+      think of that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-morrow I am going away,&rdquo; said the diplomat, &ldquo;and as I can not very
+      well take Bull with me, I give him to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The girl's eyes sparkled. &ldquo;Thank you, Monsieur, shall I take him now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, but when I leave your father. You see, he was sent to me by my son
+      who is in India. I wish to keep him near me as long as possible. My son,
+      your Highness, was a bad fellow. He ran away and joined the army against
+      my wishes, and somehow we have never got together again. Still, I've a
+      sneaking regard for him, and I believe he hasn't lost all his filial
+      devotion. Bull is, in a way, a connecting link.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king turned again to the gravel pictures. These Englishmen were beyond
+      him in the matter of analysis. Her Royal Highness smiled vaguely, and
+      wondered what this son was like. Once more she smiled, then moved away
+      toward the palace. The dog, seeing that she did not beckon, lay down
+      again. An interval of silence followed her departure. The thought of the
+      Englishman had traveled to India, the thought of the king to Osia, where
+      the girl's mother slept. The former was first to rouse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Sire, let us come to the business at hand, the subject of my last
+      informal audience. It is true, then, that the consols for the loan of five
+      millions of crowns are issued to-day, or have been, since the morning is
+      passed?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, it is true. I am well pleased. Jacobi and Brother have agreed to
+      place them at face value. I intend to lay out a park for the public at the
+      foot of the lake. That will demolish two millions and a half. The
+      remainder is to be used in city improvements and the reconstruction of the
+      apartments in the palace, which are too small. If only you knew what a
+      pleasure this affords me! I wish to make my good city of Bleiberg a thing
+      of beauty&mdash;parks, fountains, broad and well paved streets.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Diet was unanimous in regard to this loan?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In fact they suggested it, and I was much in favor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have many friends there, then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Friends?&rdquo; The king's face grew puzzled, and its animation faded away.
+      &ldquo;None that I know. This is positively the first time we ever agreed about
+      anything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And did not that strike you as rather singular?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, no.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course, the people are enthusiastic, considering the old rate of
+      taxation will be renewed?&rdquo; The diplomat reached over and pulled the dog's
+      ears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So far as I can see,&rdquo; answered the king, who could make nothing of this
+      interrogatory.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which, if your Majesty will pardon me, is not very far beyond your
+      books.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have ministers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who can see farther than your Majesty has any idea.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, come, my friend,&rdquo; cried the king good-naturedly; &ldquo;but a moment gone
+      you were chiding me because I did nothing. I may not fill my coffers as
+      you suggested, but I shall please my eye, which is something. Come; you
+      have something to tell me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will your Majesty listen?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I promise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And to hear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I promise not only to listen, but to hear,&rdquo; laughing; &ldquo;not only to hear,
+      but to think. Is that sufficient?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For three years,&rdquo; began the Englishman, &ldquo;I have been England's
+      representative here. As a representative I could not meddle with your
+      affairs, though it was possible to observe them. To-day I am an unfettered
+      agent of self, and with your permission I shall talk to you as I have
+      never talked before and never shall again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The diplomat rose from his seat and walked up and down the path, his hands
+      clasped behind his back, his chin in his collar. The bulldog yawned,
+      stretched himself, and followed his master, soberly and thoughtfully.
+      After a while the Englishman returned to his chair and sat down. The dog
+      gravely imitated him. He understood, perhaps better than the king, his
+      master's mood. This pacing backward and forward was always the forerunner
+      of something of great importance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      During the past year he had been the repository of many a secret. Well, he
+      knew how to keep one. Did not he carry a secret which his master would
+      have given much to know? Some one in far away India, after putting him
+      into the ship steward's care, had whispered: &ldquo;You tell the governor that I
+      think just as much of him as ever.&rdquo; He had made a desperate effort to tell
+      it the moment he was liberated from the box, but he had not yet mastered
+      that particular language which characterized his master's race.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To begin with,&rdquo; said the diplomat, &ldquo;what would your Majesty say if I
+      should ask permission to purchase the entire loan?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER II. THE COUP D'ETAT OF COUSIN JOSEF
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The king, who had been leaning forward, fell back heavily in his seat, his
+      eyes full wide and his mouth agape. Then, to express his utter
+      bewilderment, he raised his hands above his head and limply dropped them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Five millions of crowns?&rdquo; he gasped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; what would your Majesty say to such a proposition?&rdquo; complacently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should say,&rdquo; answered the king, with a nervous laugh, &ldquo;that my friend
+      had lost his senses, completely and totally.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The fact is,&rdquo; the Englishman declared, &ldquo;they were never keener nor more
+      lucid than at this present moment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But five millions!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Five millions; a bagatelle,&rdquo; smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly you can not be serious, and if you were, it is out of the
+      question. Death of my life! The kingdom would be at my ears. The people
+      would shout that I was selling out to the English, that I was putting them
+      into the mill to grind for English sacks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Majesty will recollect that the measure authorizing this loan was
+      rather a peculiar one. Five millions were to be borrowed indiscriminately,
+      of any man or body of men willing to advance the money on the securities
+      offered. First come, first served, was not written, but it was implied. It
+      was this which roused my curiosity, or cupidity, if you will.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can not recollect that the bill was as you say,&rdquo; said the king,
+      frowning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe you. When the bill came to you, you were not expected to
+      recollect anything but the royal signature. Have you read half of what you
+      have signed and made law? No. I am serious. What is it to you or to the
+      people, who secures this public mortgage, so long as the money is
+      forthcoming? I desire to purchase at face value the twenty certificates.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As a representative of England?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The diplomat smiled. The king's political ignorance was well known. &ldquo;As a
+      representative of England, Sire, I could not purchase the stubs from which
+      these certificates are cut. And then, as I remarked, I am an unfettered
+      agent of self. The interest at two per cent. will be a fine income on a
+      lump of stagnant money. Even in my own country, where millionaires are so
+      numerous as to be termed common, I am considered a rich man. My personal
+      property, aside from my estates, is five times the amount of the loan. A
+      mere bagatelle, if I may use that pleasantry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Impossible, impossible!&rdquo; cried the king, starting to his feet, while a
+      line of worry ran across his forehead. He strode about impatiently
+      slapping his boots with the riding stick. &ldquo;It is impossible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do you say impossible, Sire?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can not permit you to put in jeopardy a quarter of a million pounds,&rdquo;
+       forgetting for the moment that he was powerless.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aha!&rdquo; the diplomat cried briskly. &ldquo;There is, then, beneath your weariness
+      and philosophy, a fear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A fear?&rdquo; With an effort the king smoothed the line from his forehead.
+      &ldquo;Why should there be fear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why indeed, when our cousin Josef&mdash;&rdquo; He stopped and looked toward
+      the mountains.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was thinking what a fine coup de maitre it would be for his Highness to
+      gather in all these pretty slips of parchment given under the hand of
+      Leopold.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Small matter if he should. I should pay him.&rdquo; The king sat down. &ldquo;And it
+      is news to me that Josef can get together five millions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has friends, rich and powerful friends.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No matter, I should pay him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you quite sure?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The face of the world changes in the course of ten years. Will there be
+      five millions in your treasury ten years hence?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The wealth of my kingdom is not to be questioned,&rdquo; proudly, &ldquo;nor its
+      resources.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But in ten years, with the ministers you have?&rdquo; The Englishman shrugged
+      doubtfully. &ldquo;Why have you not formed a new cabinet of younger men? Why
+      have you retained those of your predecessor, who are your natural enemies?
+      You have tried and failed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The expression of weariness returned to the king's face. He knew that all
+      this was but a preamble to something of deeper significance. He
+      anticipated what was forming in the other's mind, but he wished to avoid a
+      verbal declaration. O, he knew that there was a net of intrigue enmeshing
+      him, but it was so very fine that he could not pick up the smallest thread
+      whereby to unravel it. Down in his soul he felt the shame of the knowledge
+      that he dared not. A dreamer, rushing toward the precipice, would rather
+      fall dreaming than waken and struggle futilely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My friend,&rdquo; he said, finally, sighing, &ldquo;proceed. I am all attention.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I never doubted your Majesty's perspicacity. You do not know, but you
+      suspect, what I am about to disclose to you. My hope is that, when I am
+      done, your Majesty will throw Kant and the rest of your philosophers out
+      of the window. The people are sullen at the mention of your name, while
+      they cheer another. There is an astonishing looseness about your revenues.
+      The reds and the socialists plot for revolution and a republic, which is a
+      thin disguise for a certain restoration. Your cousin the duke visits you
+      publicly twice each year. He has been in the city a week at a time
+      incognito, yet your minister of police seems to know nothing.&rdquo; The speaker
+      ceased, and fondled the dahlia in his button-hole.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king, noting the action, construed it as the subtle old diplomat
+      intended he should. &ldquo;Yes, yes! I am a king only for her sake. Go on. Tell
+      me all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The archbishop and the chancellor are the only friends you possess. The
+      Marshal, from personal considerations merely, remains neutral. Your army,
+      excepting the cuirassiers, are traitors to your house. The wisest thing
+      you have done was to surround yourself with this mercenary body, whom you
+      call the royal cuirassiers, only, instead of three hundred, you should
+      have two thousand. Self-interest will make them true to you. You might
+      find some means to pay them, for they would be a good buffer between you
+      and your enemies. The president of the Diet and the members are passing
+      bills which will eventually undermine you. How long it will take I can not
+      say. But this last folly, the loan, which you could have got on without,
+      caps the climax. The duke was in the city last week unknown to you. Your
+      minister of finance is his intimate. This loan was a connivance of them
+      all. Why ten years, when it could easily be liquidated in five? I shall
+      tell you. The duke expects to force you into bankruptcy within that time,
+      and when the creditor demands and you can not pay, you will be driven from
+      here in disgrace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And where will you go? Certainly not to Osia, since you traded it for
+      this throne. It was understood, when you assumed the reign, that the
+      finances of the kingdom would remain unimpeachable. Bankrupt, the
+      confederation will be forced to disavow you. They will be compelled to
+      restore the throne to your enemy, who, believe me, is most anxious to
+      become your creditor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is an independent state,&mdash;conditionally. The confederation have
+      formed themselves into a protectorate. Why? I can only guess. One or more
+      of them covet these beautiful lands. What are ten years to Josef, when a
+      crown is the goal? Your revenues are slowly to decline, there will be
+      internal troubles to eat up what money you have in the treasury. O, it is
+      a plot so fine, so swiftly conceived, so cunningly devised that I would I
+      were twenty years younger, to fight it with you! But I am old. My days for
+      acting are past. I can only advise. He was sure of his quarry, this Josef
+      whose hair is of many colors. Had you applied to the money syndicates of
+      Europe, the banks of England, France, Germany, or Austria, your true
+      sponsor, the result would always be the same: your ruin. Covertly I warned
+      you not to sign; you laughed and signed. A trap was there, your own hand
+      opened it. How they must have laughed at you! If you attempt to repudiate
+      your signature the Diet has power to overrule you.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Truly, the shade of Macchiavelli masks in the garb of your cousin. I
+      admire the man's genius. This is his throne by right of inheritance. I do
+      not blame him. Only, I wish to save you. If you were alone, why, I do not
+      say that I should trouble myself, for you yourself would not be troubled.
+      But I have grown to love that child of yours. It is all for her. Do you
+      now understand why I make the request? It appears Quixotic? Not at all.
+      Put my money in jeopardy? Not while the kingdom exists. If you can not pay
+      back, your kingdom will. Perhaps you ask what is the difference, whether I
+      or the duke becomes your creditor? This: in ten years I shall be happy to
+      renew the loan. In ten years, if I am gone, there will be my son. You
+      wonder why I do this. I repeat it is for your daughter. And perhaps,&rdquo; with
+      a dry smile, &ldquo;it is because I have no love for Josef.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will defeat him!&rdquo; cried the king, a fire at last shining in his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will appeal to the confederation and inform them of the plot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The resource of a child! They would laugh at you for your pains. For they
+      are too proud of their prowess in statecraft to tolerate a suspicion that
+      your cousin is a cleverer man than all of them put together. There remains
+      only one thing for you to do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what is that?&rdquo; wearily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Accept my friendship at its true value.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king made no reply. He set his elbows on the arms of the rustic seat,
+      interlaced his fingers and rested his chin on them, while his booted legs
+      slid out before him. His meditation lengthened into several minutes. The
+      diplomat evinced no sign of impatience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come with me,&rdquo; said the king, rising quickly. &ldquo;I will no longer dream. I
+      will act. Come.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The diplomat nodded approvingly; and together they marched toward the
+      palace. The bulldog trotted on behind, his pink tongue lolling out of his
+      black mouth, a white tusk or two gleaming on each side. The Lieutenant of
+      the cuirassiers saluted as they passed him, and, when they had gone some
+      distance, swung in behind. He observed with some concern that his Majesty
+      was much agitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The business of the kingdom, save that performed in the Diet, was
+      accomplished in the east wing of the palace; the king's apartments, aside
+      from the state rooms, occupied the west wing. It was to the business
+      section that the king conducted the diplomat. In the chamber of finance
+      its minister was found busy at his desk. He glanced up casually, but gave
+      an ejaculation of surprise when he perceived who his visitors were.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O, your Majesty!&rdquo; he cried, bobbing up and running out his chair. &ldquo;Good
+      afternoon, your Excellency,&rdquo; to the Englishman, adjusting his gold-rimmed
+      glasses, through which his eyes shone pale and cold.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The diplomat bowed. The little man reminded him of M. Thiers, that
+      effervescence of soda tinctured with the bitterness of iron. He understood
+      the distrust which Count von Wallenstein entertained for him, but he was
+      not distrustful of the count. Distrust implies uncertainty, and the
+      Englishman was not the least uncertain as to his conception of this
+      gentleman of finance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There were few men whom the count could not interpret; one stood before
+      him. He could not comprehend why England had sent so astute a diplomat and
+      politician to a third-rate kingdom. Of that which we can not understand we
+      are suspicious, and the guilty are distrustful. Neither the minister of
+      police nor his subordinates could fathom the purpose of this calm,
+      dignified old man with the difficult English name.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Count,&rdquo; began the king, pleasantly, &ldquo;his Excellency here has made a
+      peculiar request.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what might that be, Sire?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He offers to purchase the entire number of certificates issued to-day for
+      our loan.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Five millions of crowns?&rdquo; The minister's astonishment was so genuine that
+      in jerking back his head his glasses slipped from his nose and dangled on
+      the string.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Englishman bowed again, the wrinkle of a smile on his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I would not believe him serious at first, count,&rdquo; said the king, laughing
+      easily, &ldquo;but he assured me that he is. What can be done about it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O, your Majesty,&rdquo; cried the minister, excitedly, &ldquo;it would not be
+      politic. And then the measure&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it possible that I have misconstrued its import?&rdquo; the diplomat
+      interposed with a fine air of surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are familiar&mdash;&rdquo; began the count, hesitatingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perfectly; that is, I believe so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But England&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has nothing whatever to do with the matter. Something greater, which goes
+      by the name of self-interest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; said the count, his wrinkles relaxing; &ldquo;then it is on your own
+      responsibility?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Precisely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But five millions of crowns&mdash;two hundred and fifty thousand pounds!&rdquo;
+       The minister could not compose himself. &ldquo;This is a vast sum of money. We
+      expected not an individual, but a syndicate, to accept our securities, to
+      become debtors to the various banks on the continent. But a personal
+      affair! Five millions of crowns! The possibilities of your wealth
+      overwhelm me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Englishman smiled. &ldquo;I dare say I have more than my share of this
+      world's goods. I can give you a check for the amount on the bank of
+      England.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Majesty's lamented predecessor&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is dead,&rdquo; said the king gently. He had no desire to hear the minister
+      recount that ruler's virtues. &ldquo;Peace to his ashes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Five millions of crowns!&rdquo; The minister had lost his equipoise in the face
+      of the Englishman's great riches, of which hitherto he had held some
+      doubts. Suddenly a vivid thought entered his confused brain. The paper
+      cutter in his hand trembled. In the breathing space allowed him he began
+      to calculate rapidly. The king and the diplomat had been in the garden;
+      something had passed between them. What? The paper cutter slowly ceased
+      its uneven movements. The count calmly placed it behind the inkwells. ....
+      The Englishman knew. The glitter of gold gave way to the thought of the
+      peril. A chasm yawned at his feet. But he was an old soldier in the game
+      of words and cross-purposes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We should be happy to accord you the privilege of becoming the kingdom's
+      creditor,&rdquo; he said, smiling at the diplomat, whom nothing had escaped. &ldquo;I
+      am afraid, however, that your request has been submitted too late. At ten
+      o'clock this morning the transfer of the certificates would have been a
+      simple matter. There are twenty in all; it may not be too late to secure
+      some of them.&rdquo; He looked tranquilly from the Englishman to the king.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The smiling mask fell from the king's face; he felt that he was lost. He
+      tried to catch his friend's eye, but the diplomat was deeply interested in
+      the console of the fireplace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They seem to be at a premium,&rdquo; the Englishman said, &ldquo;which speaks well
+      for the prosperity of the country. I am sorry to have troubled you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It would have been a pleasure indeed,&rdquo; replied the count. He stood secure
+      within his fortress, so secure that he would have liked to laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is too bad,&rdquo; said the king, pulling his thoughts together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Majesty is giving the matter too much importance,&rdquo; said the
+      diplomat. &ldquo;It was merely a whim. I shall have the pleasure and honor of
+      presenting my successor this evening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The count bent low, while the king nodded absently. He was thinking that a
+      penful of ink, carelessly trailed over a sheet of paper, had lost him his
+      throne. He was about to draw the arm of the diplomat through his own, when
+      his step was arrested by the entrance of a messenger who presented a
+      letter to the minister of finance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With your Majesty's permission,&rdquo; he said, tearing open the envelope. As
+      he read the contents, his shoulders sank to their habitual stoop and
+      benignity once more shone in the place of alertness. &ldquo;Decidedly, fate is
+      not with your Excellency to-day. M. Jacobi writes me that four millions
+      have already been disposed of to M. Everard &amp; Co., English bankers in
+      the Konigstrasse, who are representing a French firm in this particular
+      instance. I am very sorry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is of no moment now,&rdquo; replied the Englishman indifferently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The adverb which concluded this declaration caught the keen ear of the
+      minister, who grew tall again. What would he not have given to read the
+      subtle brain of his opponent, for opponent he knew him to be! His intense
+      scrutiny was blocked by a pair of most innocent eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said the king impatiently, &ldquo;let us be gone, my friend. The talk of
+      money always leaves a copperish taste on my tongue.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Arm in arm they passed from the chamber. When the door closed behind them,
+      the minister of finance drew his handkerchief across his brow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Everard &amp; Co.,&rdquo; mused the Englishman aloud. &ldquo;Was it not indeed a
+      stroke for your cousin to select them as his agents? You will in truth be
+      accused of selling out to the English. But there is a coincidence in all
+      this.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am lost!&rdquo; said the king.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On the contrary, you are saved. Everard &amp; Co. are my bankers and
+      attorneys; in fact, I own an interest in the firm.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is this you tell me?&rdquo; cried the king.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, we English have a peculiar trait; it is asking for something after
+      we have taken it. The human countenance is a fine picture book. I should
+      like to read that belonging to your cousin Josef, providing I could read
+      unobserved.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My friend!&rdquo; said the king.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Say nothing. Here is the bulldog; take him to her Royal Highness with my
+      compliments. There is no truer friend than an animal of his breed. He is
+      steadfast in his love, for he makes but few friends; he is a good
+      companion, for he is undemonstrative; he can read and draw inferences, and
+      your enemies will be his. I shall bid you good afternoon. God be with your
+      Majesty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, to lose you now!&rdquo; said, the king, a heaviness in his heart such as
+      presentiment brings.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The diplomat turned and went down the grand corridor. The bulldog tugged
+      at his chain. Animals are gifted with prescience. He knew that his master
+      had passed forever out of his life. Presently he heard the voice of the
+      princess calling; and the glamour of royalty encompassed him,&mdash;something
+      a human finds hard to resist, and he was only a dog.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meanwhile another messenger had entered the chamber of finance and had
+      gone. On the minister's desk lay a crumpled sheet of paper on which was
+      written:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Treason and treachery! It has at this moment been ascertained that, while
+      pretending to be our agents in securing the consols, M. Everard &amp; Co.
+      now refuse to deliver them into the custody of Baron von Rumpf, as agreed,
+      and further, that M. Everard &amp; Co. are bankers and attorneys to his
+      Excellency the British minister. He must not leave this city with those
+      consols.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With his eyes riveted on these words, the minister of finance, huddled in
+      his chair, had fallen into a profound study.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There were terrible times in the house of Josef that night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER III. AN EPISODE TEN YEARS AFTER
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      One fine September morning in a year the date of which is of no particular
+      importance, a man stepped out of a second-class carriage on to the
+      canopied platform of the railway terminus in the ancient and picturesque
+      city of Bleiberg. He yawned, shook himself, and stretched his arms and
+      legs, relieved to find that the tedious journey from Vienna had not
+      cramped those appendages beyond recovery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He stood some inches above the average height, and was built up in a
+      manner that suggested the handiwork of a British drill-master, his figure
+      being both muscular and symmetrical. Besides, there was on his skin that
+      rich brown shadow which is the result only of the forces of the sun and
+      wind, a life in the open air. This color gave peculiar emphasis to the
+      yellow hair and mustache. His face was not handsome, if one accept the
+      Greek profile as a model of manly beauty, but it was cleanly and boldly
+      cut, healthful, strong and purposeful, based on determined jaws and a chin
+      which would have been obstinate but for the presence of a kindly mouth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A guard deposited at his feet a new hatbox, a battered traveling bag and
+      two gun cases which also gave evidence of rough usage. The luggage was
+      literally covered with mutilated square and oblong slips of paper of many
+      colors, on which were printed the advertisements of far-sighted hotel
+      keepers all the way from Bombay to London and half-way back across the
+      continent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was nothing to be seen, however, indicative of the traveler's name.
+      He surveyed his surroundings with lively interest shining in his gray
+      eyes, one of which peered through a monocle encircled by a thin rim of
+      tortoise shell. He watched the fussy customs officials, who, by some
+      strange mischance, overlooked his belongings. Finally he made an impatient
+      gesture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Find me a cab,&rdquo; he said to the attentive guard, who, with an eye to the
+      main chance, had waved off the approach of a station porter. &ldquo;If the
+      inspectors are in no hurry, I am.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At once, my lord;&rdquo; and the guard, as he stooped and lifted the luggage,
+      did not see the start which this appellation caused the stranger to make,
+      but who, after a moment, was convinced that the guard had given him the
+      title merely out of politeness. The guard placed the traps inside of one
+      of the many vehicles stationed at the street exit of the terminus. He was
+      an intelligent and deductive servant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The traveler was some noted English lord who had come to Bleiberg to shoot
+      the famed golden pheasant, and had secured a second-class compartment in
+      order to demonstrate his incognito. Persons who traveled second-class
+      usually did so to save money; yet this tall Englishman, since the train
+      departed from Vienna, had almost doubled in gratuities the sum paid for
+      his ticket. The guard stood respectfully at the door of the cab, doffed
+      his cap, into which a memento was dropped, and went along about his
+      business.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Englishman slammed the door, the jehu cracked his whip, and a moment
+      later the hoarse breathings of the motionless engines became lost in the
+      sharper noises of the city carts. The unknown leaned against the faded
+      cushions, curled his mustache, and smiled as if well satisfied with
+      events. It is quite certain that his sense of ease and security would have
+      been somewhat disturbed had he known that another cab was close on the
+      track of his, and that its occupant, an officer of the city gendarmerie,
+      alternately smiled and frowned as one does who floats between conviction
+      and uncertainty. At length the two vehicles turned into the Konigstrasse,
+      the principal thoroughfare of the capital, and here the Englishman's cab
+      came to a stand. The jehu climbed down and opened the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did Herr say the Continental?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; the Grand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The driver shrugged, remounted his box, and drove on. The Grand Hotel was
+      clean enough and respectable, but that was all that could be said in its
+      favor. He wondered if the Englishman would haggle over the fare.
+      Englishmen generally did. He was agreeably disappointed, however, when, on
+      arriving at the mean hostelry, his passenger plunged a hand into a pocket
+      and produced three Franz-Josef florins.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may have these,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;for the trouble of having them exchanged
+      into crowns.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As he whipped up, the philosophical cabman mused that these tourists were
+      beyond the pale of his understanding. With a pocket full of money, and to
+      put up at the Grand! Why not the Continental, which lay close to the
+      Werter See, the palaces, the royal and public gardens? It was at the
+      Continental that the fine ladies and gentlemen from Vienna, and Innsbruck,
+      and Munich, and Belgrade, resided during the autumn months. But the Grand&mdash;ach!
+      it was in the heart of the shops and markets, and within a stone's throw
+      of that gloomy pile of granite designated in the various guide books as
+      the University of Bleiberg.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Englishman had some difficulty in finding a pen that would write, and
+      the ink was oily, and the guest-book was not at the proper angle. At last
+      he managed to form the letters of his name, which was John Hamilton. After
+      some deliberation, he followed this with &ldquo;England.&rdquo; The proprietor, who
+      acted as his own clerk, drew the book toward him, and after some time,
+      deciphered the cabalistic signs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, Herr John Hamilton of England; is that right?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; I am here for a few days' shooting. Can you find me a man to act as
+      guide?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This very morning, Herr.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then he proceeded up the stairs to the room assigned to him. The smell of
+      garlic which pervaded the air caused him to make a grimace. Once alone in
+      the room, he looked about. There was neither soap nor towel, but there was
+      a card which stated that the same could be purchased at the office. He
+      laughed. A pitcher of water and a bowl stood on a small table, which, by
+      the presence of a mirror (that could not in truth reflect anything but
+      light and darkness), served as a dresser. These he used to good advantage,
+      drying his face and hands on the white counterpane of the bed, and
+      laughing quietly as he did so. Next he lit a pipe, whose capacity for
+      tobacco was rather less than that of a lady's thimble, sat in a chair by
+      the window, smoked quietly, and gazed down on the busy street.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was yet early in the morning; sellers of vegetables, men and women
+      peasants, with bare legs and wooden shoes, driving shaggy Servian ponies
+      attached to low, cumbersome carts, passed and repassed, to and from the
+      markets. A gendarme, leaning the weight of his shoulder on the guard of a
+      police saber, rested against the corner of a wine shop across the way.
+      Students, wearing squat caps with vizors, sauntered indolently along,
+      twirling canes and ogling all who wore petticoats. Occasionally the bright
+      uniform of a royal cuirassier flashed by; and the Englishman would lean
+      over the sill and gaze after him, nodding his head in approval whenever
+      the cuirassier sat his horse well.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the meantime the gendarme, who followed him from the station, had
+      entered the hotel, hastily glanced at the freshly written name, and made
+      off toward the palace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, here we are,&rdquo; mused the Englishman, pressing his thumb into the
+      bowl of his pipe. &ldquo;The affair promises some excitement. To-morrow will be
+      the sixth; on the twentieth it will be a closed incident, as the diplomats
+      would say. I don't know what brought me here so far ahead of time. I
+      suppose I must look out for a crack on the head from some one I don't
+      know, but who knows me so deuced well that he has hunted me in India and
+      England, first with fine bribes, then with threats.&rdquo; He glanced over his
+      shoulder in the direction of the gun cases. &ldquo;It was a capital idea,
+      otherwise a certain ubiquitous customs official, who lies in wait for the
+      unwary at the frontier, would now be an inmate of a hospital. To have
+      lived thirty-five years, and to have ground out thirteen of them in her
+      Majesty's, is to have acquired a certain disdain for danger, even when it
+      is masked. I am curious to see how far these threats will go. It will take
+      a clever man to trap me. The incognito is a fort. By the way, I wonder how
+      the inspectors at the station came to overlook my traps? Strange,
+      considering what I have gone through.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this moment the knuckles of a hand beat against the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come in!&rdquo; answered the Englishman, wheeling his chair, but making no
+      effort to rise. &ldquo;Come in!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The door swung in, and there entered a short, spectacled man in dark gray
+      clothes which fairly bristled with brass buttons. He was the chief
+      inspector of customs. He bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Englishman, consternation widening his eyes, lowered his pipe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur Hamilton's pardon,&rdquo; the inspector began, speaking in French,
+      &ldquo;but with your permission I shall inspect your luggage and glance at your
+      passports.&rdquo; He bowed again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now do you know, mon ami,&rdquo; replied the Englishman, &ldquo;that Monsieur
+      Hamilton will not permit you to gaze even into yonder washbowl?&rdquo; He rose
+      lazily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Monsieur,&rdquo; cried the astonished official, to whom non-complaisance
+      in the matter of inspection was unprecedented, &ldquo;you certainly will not put
+      any obstacle in the path of my duty!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your duty, Monsieur the Spectacles, is to inspect at the station. There
+      your assistants refused to award me their attention. You are trespassing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur forgets,&rdquo; sternly; &ldquo;it is the law. Is it possible that I shall
+      be forced to call in the gendarmes to assist me? This is extraordinary!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I dare say it is, on your part,&rdquo; admitted the Englishman, polishing the
+      bowl of his pipe against the side of his nose. &ldquo;You had best go at once.
+      If you do not, I shall take you by the nape of your Bleibergian neck and
+      kick you down the stairs. I have every assurance of my privileges. The law
+      here, unless it has changed within the past hour, requires inspection at
+      the frontier, and at the capital; but your jurisdiction does not extend
+      beyond the stations. Bon jour, Monsieur the Spectacles; bon jour!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O, Monsieur!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good day!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur, it is my duty; I must!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good day! How will you go, by the stairs or by the window? I&mdash;but
+      wait!&rdquo; an idea coming to him which caused him to reflect on the possible
+      outcome of violence done to a government official, who, perhaps, was
+      discharging his peculiar duty at the orders of superiors. He walked
+      swiftly to the door and slid the bolt, to the terror of the inspector, on
+      whose brow drops of perspiration began to gather. &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; opening the hat
+      box and taking out a silk hat, &ldquo;this is a hat, purchased in Paris at
+      Cook's. There is nothing in the lining but felt. Look into the box;
+      nothing. Take out your book and follow me closely,&rdquo; he continued, dividing
+      the traveling bag into halves, and he began to enumerate the contents.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Monsieur!&rdquo; remonstrated the inspector, who did not enjoy this
+      infringement of his prerogatives; his was the part to overhaul. &ldquo;This is&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be still and follow me,&rdquo; and the Englishman went on with the inventory.
+      &ldquo;There!&rdquo; when he had done, &ldquo;not a dutiable thing except this German-Scotch
+      whisky, and that is so bad that I give it to you rather than pay duty.
+      What next? My passports? Here they are, absolutely flawless, vised by the
+      authorities in Vienna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The slips crackled in the fluttering fingers of the inspector. &ldquo;They are
+      as you say, Monsieur,&rdquo; he said, returning the permits. Then he added
+      timidly, &ldquo;And the gun cases?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The gun cases!&rdquo; The pipe spilled its coal to the floor. &ldquo;The gun cases!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Monsieur.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why do you wish to look into them?&rdquo; with agitation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Smugglers sometimes fill them with cigars.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; The Englishman selected two loaded shells, drew a gun from the case,
+      threw up the breech and rammed in the shells. Then he extended the weapon
+      to within an inch of the terrified inspector's nose. &ldquo;Now, Monsieur the
+      Spectacles, look in there and tell me what you see.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The fellow sank half-fainting into a chair. &ldquo;Mon Dieu, Monsieur, would you
+      kill me who have a family?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's a customs inspector, more or less?&rdquo; asked the terrible islander,
+      laughing. &ldquo;I advise you not to ask me to let you look into the other gun,
+      out of consideration for your family. It has hair triggers, and my fingers
+      tremble.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur, Monsieur, you do wrong to trifle with the law. I shall be
+      obliged to report you. You will be arrested.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing of the kind,&rdquo; was the retort. &ldquo;I have only to inform the British
+      minister how remiss you were in your obligations. I should go free,
+      whereas you would be discharged. But what I demand to know is, what the
+      devil is the meaning of this farce.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am simply obeying orders,&rdquo; answered the inspector, wiping his forehead.
+      &ldquo;It is not a farce, as Monsieur will find.&rdquo; Then, as if to excuse this
+      implied threat: &ldquo;Will Monsieur please point the gun the other way?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Englishman unloaded the gun and tossed it on the bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks. In coming here I simply obeyed the orders of the minister of
+      police.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what in the world did you expect to find?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are looking&mdash;that is, they are looking&mdash;O, Monsieur, it is
+      impossible for me to disclose to you my government's purposes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What and whom were you expecting?&rdquo; demanded the Englishman. &ldquo;You shall
+      not leave this room till you have fully explained this remarkable
+      intrusion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We were expecting the Lord and Baronet Fitzgerald.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The lord!&rdquo; laughing. &ldquo;Does the lord visit Bleiberg often, then, that you
+      prepare this sort of a reception? And the Baronet Fitzgerald?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are the same and the one person.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And who the deuce is he; a spy, a smuggler, a villain, or what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As to that, Monsieur,&rdquo; with a wonder why this man laughed, &ldquo;I know no
+      more than you. But I do know that for the past month every Englishman has
+      been subjected to this surveillance, and has submitted with more grace
+      than you,&rdquo; with an oblique glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What! Examined his luggage at the hotel?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Monsieur. It is the order of the minister of police. I know not
+      why.&rdquo; The natural color was returning to his cheeks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is a fine country, I must say. At least the king should acquaint his
+      visitors with the true cause of this treatment.&rdquo; In his turn the
+      Englishman resorted to oblique glances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The king?&rdquo; The inspector raised a shoulder and spread his hands. &ldquo;The
+      king is a paralytic, Monsieur, and has little to say these days.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A paralytic? I thought he was called `the handsome monarch'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was years ago, Monsieur. For three years he has been helpless and
+      bedridden. The archbishop is the real king nowadays. But he meddles not
+      with the police.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is very sad. I suppose it would be impossible for strangers to see
+      him now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An audience?&rdquo; a sparkle behind the spectacles. &ldquo;Is your business with the
+      king, Monsieur?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My business is mine,&rdquo; shortly. &ldquo;I am only a tourist, and should have
+      liked to see the king from mere curiosity. However, had you explained all
+      this to me, I should not have caused you so many gray hairs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur did not give me the chance,&rdquo; simply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;True,&rdquo; the Englishman replied soberly. He began to think that he had been
+      over hasty in asserting his privileges. &ldquo;But all this has nothing to do
+      with me. My name is John Hamilton. See, it is engraved on the stock of the
+      gun,&rdquo; catching it up and holding it under the spectacled eyes, which still
+      observed it with some trepidation. &ldquo;That is the name in my passports, in
+      the book down stairs, in the lining of my hat. I am sorry, since you were
+      only obeying orders, that my rough play has caused you alarm.&rdquo; He unbolted
+      the door. &ldquo;Good morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The inspector left the room as swiftly as his short legs could carry him,
+      ignoring the ethics of common politeness. As he stumbled down the stairs
+      he cursed the minister of police for requiring this spy work of him, and
+      not informing him why it was done. Ah, these cursed Anglais from
+      Angleterre! They were all alike, and this one was the worst he had ever
+      encountered. And those ugly black orifices in the gun! Peste! He would
+      resign! Yes, certainly he would resign.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As to the Englishman, he stood in the center of the room and scratched his
+      head. &ldquo;Hang it, I've made an ass of myself. That blockhead will have the
+      gendarmes about my ears. If they arrest me there will be the devil to pay.
+      The Lord and the Baronet Fitzgerald!&rdquo; he repeated. He sat down on the edge
+      of the bed, and fell to laughing again. &ldquo;Confound these picture-book
+      kingdoms! They always take themselves so seriously. Well, if the gendarmes
+      call this afternoon I'll not be at home. No, thank you. I shall be hunting
+      pheasants.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And thereat he set to work cleaning the gun which had all but prostrated
+      the inspector. Soon the room smelled of oiled rags and tobacco. Some-times
+      the worker whistled softly. Sometimes he let the gun fall against his
+      knee, and stared dreamily through the window at the flight of the ragged
+      clouds. Again, he would shake his head, as if there were something which
+      he failed to understand. Half an hour passed, when again some one knocked
+      on the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come in!&rdquo; Under his breath he added: &ldquo;The gendarmes, likely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But it was only the proprietor of the hotel. &ldquo;Asking Herr's pardon,&rdquo; he
+      said, &ldquo;for this intrusion, but I have secured a man for you. I have the
+      honor to recommend Johann Kopf as a good guide and hunter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Send him up. If he pleases me, I'll use him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The proprietor withdrew.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Johann Kopf proved to be a young German with a round, ruddy face, which
+      was so innocent of guile as to be out of harmony with the shrewd, piercing
+      black eyes looking out of it. The Englishman eyed him inquisitively, even
+      suspiciously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you a good hunter?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is none better hereabout,&rdquo; answered Johann, twirling his cap with
+      noticeably white fingers. It was only in after days that the Englishman
+      appreciated the full significance of this answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Speak English?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. Herr's German is excellent, however.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; The Englishman gave a final glance into the shining tubes of the
+      gun, snapped the breach, and slipped it into the case. &ldquo;You'll do. Return
+      to the office; I'll be down presently.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will Herr hunt this morning?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; what I wish this morning is to see the city of Bleiberg.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is simple,&rdquo; said Johann. The fleeting, imperceptible smile did not
+      convict his eyes of false keenness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He bowed out. When the door closed the Englishman waited until the sound
+      of retreating steps failed. Then he took the gun case which he had not yet
+      opened, and thrust it under the mattress of the bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Johann,&rdquo; he said, as he put on a soft hat and drew a cane from the straps
+      of the traveling bag, &ldquo;you will certainly precede me in our hunting
+      expeditions. I do not like your eyes; they are not at home in your boyish
+      face. Humph! what a country. Every one speaks a different tongue.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The city of Bleiberg lay on a hill and in the valleys which fell away to
+      the east and west. It was divided into two towns, the upper and the lower.
+      The upper town and that part which lay on the shores of the Werter See was
+      the modern and fashionable district. It was here that the king and the
+      archbishop had their palaces and the wealthy their brick and stone. The
+      public park skirted the lake, and was patterned after those fine gardens
+      which add so much to the picturesqueness of Vienna and Berlin. There were
+      wide gravel paths and long avenues of lofty chestnuts and lindens, iron
+      benches, fountains and winding flower beds. The park, the palaces, and the
+      Continental Hotel enclosed a public square, paved with asphalt, called the
+      Hohenstaufenplatz, in the center of which rose a large marble fountain of
+      several streams, guarded by huge bronze wolves. Here, too, were iron
+      benches which were, for the most part, the meeting-place of the
+      nursemaids. Carriages were allowed to make the circuit, but not to
+      obstruct the way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Konigstrasse began at the Platz, divided the city, and wound away
+      southward, merging into the highway which continued to the Thalian Alps,
+      some thirty miles distant. The palaces were at the southeast corner of the
+      Platz, first the king's, then the archbishop's. The private gardens of
+      each ran into the lake. Directly across from the palaces stood the
+      cathedral, a relic of five centuries gone. On the northwest corner stood
+      the Continental Hotel, with terrace and parapet at the water's edge, and a
+      delightful open-air cafe facing the Platz. September and October were
+      prosperous months in Bleiberg. Fashionable people who desired quiet made
+      Bleiberg an objective point. The pheasants were plump, there were boars,
+      gray wolves, and not infrequently Monsieur Fourpaws of the shaggy coat
+      wandered across from the Carpathians.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As to the lower town, it was given over to the shops and markets, the
+      barracks, the university, and the Rathhaus, which served as the house of
+      the Diet. It was full of narrow streets and quaint dwellings.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Up the Konigstrasse the guide led the Englishman, who nodded whenever the
+      voluble chatter of the German pleased him. When they began the descent of
+      the hill, the vista which opened before them drew from the Englishman an
+      ejaculation of delight. There lay the lake, like a bright new coin in a
+      green purse; the light of the sun broke on the white buildings and flashed
+      from the windows; and the lawns twinkled like emeralds.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It makes Vienna look to her laurels, eh, Herr?&rdquo; said Johann.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it must have cost a pretty penny.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye, that it did; and the king is being impressed with that fact every
+      day. There are few such fine palaces outside of first-class kingdoms. The
+      cathedral there was erected at the desire of a pope, born five hundred
+      years ago. It is full of romance. There is to be a grand wedding there on
+      the twentieth of this month. That is why there are so many fashionable
+      people at the hotels. The crown prince of Carnavia, which is the large
+      kingdom just east of us, is to wed the Princess Alexia, the daughter of
+      the king.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On the twentieth? That is strange.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Strange?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I meant nothing,&rdquo; said the Englishman, jerking back his shoulders; &ldquo;I had
+      in mind another affair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a flash in Johann's eyes, but he subdued it before the
+      Englishman was aware of its presence. &ldquo;However,&rdquo; said Johann, &ldquo;there is
+      something strange. The prince was to have arrived a week ago to complete
+      the final arrangements for the wedding. His suite has been here a week,
+      but no sign of his Highness. He stopped over a train at Ehrenstein to
+      visit for a few hours a friend of the king, his father. Since then nothing
+      has been heard from him. The king, it is said, fears that some accident
+      has happened to him. Carnavia is also disturbed over this disappearance.
+      Some whisper of a beautiful peasant girl. Who can say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Any political significance in this marriage?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Leopold expects to strengthen his throne by the alliance. But&mdash;&rdquo;
+       Johann's mouth closed and his tongue pushed out his cheek. &ldquo;There will be
+      some fine doings in the good city of Bleiberg before the month is gone.
+      The minister from the duchy has been given his passports. Every one
+      concedes that trouble is likely to ensue. Baron von Rumpf&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Baron von Rumpf,&rdquo; repeated the Englishman thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; he is not a man to submit to accusations without making a
+      disagreeable defense.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does the duke say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The duke?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His Highness has been dead these four years.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dead four years? So much for man and his futile dreams. Dead four years,&rdquo;
+       absently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did you say, Herr?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I? Nothing. How did he die?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was thrown from his horse and killed. But the duchess lives, and she
+      is worthy of her sire. Eh, Herr, there is a woman for you! She should sit
+      on this throne; it is hers by right. These Osians are aliens and were
+      forced on us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems to me, young man, that you are talking treason.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is my business, Herr.&rdquo; Johann laughed. &ldquo;I am a socialist, and
+      occasionally harangue for the reds. And sometimes, when I am in need of
+      money, I find myself in the employ of the police.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The muscles of the Englishman's jaws hardened, then they relaxed. The
+      expression on the face of his guide was free from anything but bonhomie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One must live,&rdquo; Johann added deprecatingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, one must live,&rdquo; replied the Englishman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O! but I could sell some fine secrets to the Osians had they money to
+      pay. Ach! but what is the use? The king has no money; he is on the verge
+      of bankruptcy, and this pretty bit of scenery is the cause of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you are a socialist?&rdquo; said the Englishman, passing over Johann's
+      declamatory confidences.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Herr. All men are brothers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go to!&rdquo; laughed the Englishman, &ldquo;you aren't even a second cousin to me.
+      But stay, what place is this we are passing?&rdquo; indicating with his cane a
+      red-brick mansion which was fronted by broad English lawns and protected
+      from intrusion by a high iron fence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is the British legation, Herr.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Englishman stopped and stared, unconscious of the close scrutiny of
+      the guide. His eyes traveled up the wide flags leading to the veranda, and
+      he drew a picture of a square-shouldered old man tramping backward and
+      forward, the wind tangling his thin white hair, his hands behind his back,
+      his chin in his collar and at his heels a white bulldog. Rapidly another
+      picture came. It was an English scene. And the echo of a voice fell on his
+      ears. &ldquo;My way and the freedom of the house and the key to the purse; your
+      way and a closed door while I live. You can go, but you can not come back.
+      You have decided? Yes? Then good morning.&rdquo; Thirteen years, thirteen years!
+      He had sacrificed the freedom of the house and the key to the purse, the
+      kind eyes and the warm pressure of that old hand. And for what? Starvation
+      in the deserts, plenty of scars and little of thanks, ingratitude and
+      forgetfulness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now the kind eyes were closed and the warm hand cold. O, to recall the
+      vanished face, the silent voice, the misspent years, the April days and
+      their illusions! The Englishman took the monocle from his eye and looked
+      at it, wondering what had caused the sudden blur.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There was a fine old man there in the bygone days,&rdquo; said Johann.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And who was he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord Fitzgerald, the British minister. He and Leopold were close
+      friends.&rdquo; Johann's investigating gaze went unrewarded. The Englishman's
+      face had resumed its expression of mild curiosity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah; a compatriot of mine,&rdquo; he said. Inwardly he mused: &ldquo;This guide is
+      watching me; let him catch me if he can. His duchess? I know far too much
+      of her!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was a millionaire, too,&rdquo; went on Johann.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, we can't all be rich. Come.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They crossed the Strasse and traversed the walk at the side of the palace
+      enclosures. The Englishman aimlessly trailed his cane along the green
+      pickets of the fence till they ended in a stone arch which rose high over
+      the driveway. The gates were open, and coming toward the two wanderers as
+      they stood at the curb rolled the royal barouche, on each side of which
+      rode a mounted cuirassier, sashed and helmeted. The Englishman, however,
+      had observed nothing; he was lost in some dream.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look, Herr!&rdquo; cried Johann, rousing the other by a pull at the sleeve.
+      &ldquo;Look!&rdquo; Socialist though he claimed to be, Johann touched his cap.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the barouche, leaning back among the black velvet cushions, her face
+      mellowed by the shade of a small parasol, was a young woman of nineteen or
+      twenty, as beautiful as a da Vinci freshly conceived. The Englishman saw a
+      pair of grave dark eyes which, in the passing, met his and held them. He
+      caught his breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is that?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is her Royal Highness the Crown Princess Alexia.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Afterward the Englishman remembered seeing a white dog lying on the
+      opposite seat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IV. AN ADVENTURE WITH ROYALTY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Maurice Carewe, attached to the American legation in Vienna, leaned
+      against the stone parapet which separated the terraced promenade of the
+      Continental Hotel from the Werter See, and wondered what had induced him
+      to come to Bleiberg.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had left behind him the glory of September in Vienna, a city second
+      only to Paris in fashion and gaiety; Vienna, with its inimitable bands,
+      its incomparable gardens, its military maneuvers, its salons, its charming
+      women; and all for a fool's errand. His Excellency was to blame. He had
+      casually dropped the remark that the duchy's minister, Baron von Rumpf,
+      had been given his passports as a persona non grata by the chancellor of
+      the kingdom, and that a declaration of war was likely to follow. Maurice's
+      dormant love of journalistic inquiry had become aroused, and he had asked
+      permission to investigate the affair, a favor readily granted to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But here he was, on the scene, and nobody knew anything, and nobody could
+      tell anything. The duchess had remained silent. Not unnaturally he wished
+      himself back in Vienna. There were no court fetes in the city of Bleiberg.
+      The king's condition was too grave to permit them. And, besides, there had
+      been no real court in Bleiberg for the space of ten years, so he was told.
+      Those solemn affairs of the archbishop's, given once the week for the
+      benefit of the corps diplomatique, were dull and spiritless. Her Royal
+      Highness was seldom seen, save when she drove through the streets. Persons
+      who remembered the reign before told what a mad, gay court it had been.
+      Now it was funereal. The youth and beauty of Bleiberg held a court of its
+      own. Royalty was not included, nor did it ask to be.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A strange capital, indeed, Maurice reflected, as he gazed down into the
+      cool, brown water. He regretted his caprice. There were pretty women in
+      Vienna. Some of them belonged to the American colony. They danced well,
+      they sang and played and rode. He had taught some of them how to fence,
+      and he could not remember the times he had been &ldquo;buttoned&rdquo; while paying
+      too much attention to their lips and eyes. For Maurice loved a thing of
+      beauty, were it a woman, a horse or a Mediterranean sunset. What a
+      difference between these two years in Vienna and that year in Calcutta! He
+      never would forget the dingy office, with its tarnished sign, &ldquo;U. S.
+      Consul,&rdquo; tacked insecurely on the door, and the utter loneliness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He cast a pebble into the lake, and watched the ripples roll away and
+      disappear, and ruminated on a life full of color and vicissitude. He
+      remembered the Arizona days, the endless burning sand, the dull routine of
+      a cavalry trooper, the lithe brown bodies of the Apaches, the first
+      skirmish and the last. From a soldier he had turned journalist, tramped
+      the streets of Washington in rain and shine, living as a man lived who
+      must.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One day his star had shot up from the nadir of obscurity, not very far,
+      but enough to bring his versatility under the notice of the discerning
+      Secretary of State, who, having been a friend of the father, offered the
+      son a berth in the diplomatic corps. A consulate in a South American
+      republic, during a revolutionary crisis, where he had shown consummate
+      skill in avoiding political complications (and where, by a shrewd
+      speculation in gold, he had feathered his nest for his declining years),
+      proved that the continual incertitude of a journalistic career is a fine
+      basis for diplomatic work. From South America he had gone to Calcutta,
+      thence to Austria.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was only twenty-nine, which age in some is youth. He possessed an old
+      man's wisdom and a boy's exuberance of spirits. He laughed whenever he
+      could; to him life was a panorama of vivid pictures, the world a vast
+      theater to which somehow he had gained admission. His beardless
+      countenance had deceived more than one finished diplomat, for it was
+      difficult to believe that behind it lay an earnest purpose and a daring
+      courage. If he bragged a little, quizzed graybeards, sought strange
+      places, sported with convention, and eluded women, it was due to his
+      restlessness. Yet, he had the secretiveness of sand; he absorbed, but he
+      revealed nothing. He knew his friends; they thought they knew him. It was
+      his delight to have women think him a butterfly, men write him down a
+      fool; it covered up his real desires and left him free.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What cynicism he had was mellowed by a fanciful humor. Whether with steel
+      or with words, he was a master of fence; and if at times some one got
+      under his guard, that some one knew it not. To let your enemy see that he
+      has hit you is to give him confidence. He saw humor where no one else saw
+      it, and tragedy where it was not suspected. He was one of those rare
+      individuals who, when the opportunity of chance refuses to come, makes
+      one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Germany and Austria are great countries,&rdquo; he mused, lighting a cigar.
+      &ldquo;Every hundredth man is a king, one in fifty is a duke, every tenth man is
+      a prince, and one can not take a corner without bumping into a count or a
+      baron. Even the hotel waiters are disquieting; there is that embarrassing
+      atmosphere about them which suggests nobility in durance vile. As for me,
+      I prefer Kentucky, where every man is a colonel, and you never make a
+      mistake. And these kingdoms!&rdquo; He indulged in subdued laughter. &ldquo;They are
+      always like comic operas. I find myself looking around every moment for
+      the merry villagers so happy and so gay (at fifteen dollars the week), the
+      eternal innkeeper and the perennial soubrette his daughter, the low
+      comedian and the self-conscious tenor. Heigho! and not a soul in Bleiberg
+      knows me, nor cares.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd rather talk five minutes to a pretty woman than eat stuffed pheasants
+      the year around, and the stuffed pheasant is about all Bleiberg can boast
+      of. Well, here goes for a voyage of discovery;&rdquo; and he passed down the
+      stone steps to the pier, quite unconscious of the admiring glances of the
+      women who fluttered back and forth on the wide balconies above.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was four o'clock in the afternoon; a fresh wind redolent of pine and
+      resin blew across the lake. Maurice climbed into a boat and pulled away
+      with a strong, swift stroke, enjoying the liberation of his muscles. A
+      quarter of a mile out he let the oars drift and took his bearings. He saw
+      the private gardens of the king and the archbishop, and, convinced that a
+      closer view would afford him entertainment, he caught up the oars again
+      and moved inland.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The royal gardens ran directly into the water, while those of the
+      archbishop were protected by a wall of brick five or six feet in height,
+      in the center of which was a gate opening on the water. Behind the gate
+      was a small boat dock. Maurice plied the oars vigorously. He skirted the
+      royal gardens, and the smell of newly mown lawns filled the air. Soon he
+      was gliding along the sides of the moss-grown walls. A bird chirped in the
+      overhanging boughs. He was about to cast loose the oars again, when the
+      boat was brought to a violent stop. A few yards waterward from the gate
+      there lay, hidden in the shadowed water, a sunken pier. On one of the iron
+      piles the boat had become impaled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice was tumbled into the bow of the boat, which began rapidly to fill.
+      First he swore, then he laughed, for he was possessed of infinite good
+      humor. The only thing left for him to do was to swim for the gate. With a
+      rueful glance at his thin clothes, he dropped himself over the side of the
+      wreck and struck out toward the gate. The water, having its source from
+      the snowclad mountains, was icy. He was glad enough to grasp the lower
+      bars of the gate and draw himself up. He was on the point of climbing
+      over, when a picture presented itself to his streaming eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Seated on a bench made of twisted vine was a young girl. She held in her
+      hand a book, but she was not reading it. She was scanning the unwritten
+      pages of some reverie; her eyes, dark, large and wistful, were holding
+      communion with the god of dreams. A wisp of hair, glossy as coal, trembled
+      against a cheek white as the gown she wore.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At her side, blinking in the last rays of the warm sun, sat a bulldog,
+      toothless and old. Now and then a sear leaf, falling in a zig-zag course,
+      rustled past his ears, and he would shake his head as if he, too, were
+      dreaming and the leaves disturbed him. All at once he sniffed, his ears
+      stood forward, and a low growl broke the enchantment. The girl, on
+      discovering Maurice, closed the book and rose. The dog, still growling,
+      jumped down and trotted to the gate. Maurice thought that it was time to
+      speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mademoiselle,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;pardon this intrusion, but my boat has met with
+      an accident.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The girl came to the gate. &ldquo;Why, Monsieur,&rdquo; she exclaimed, &ldquo;you are wet!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is true,&rdquo; replied Maurice, his teeth beginning to knock together. &ldquo;I
+      was forced to swim. If you will kindly open the gate and guide me to the
+      street, I shall be much obliged to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The gate swung outward, and in a moment Maurice was on dry land, or the
+      next thing to it, which was the boat-dock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O! And you might have been drowned,&rdquo; compassion lighting her beautiful
+      eyes. &ldquo;Sit down on the bench, Monsieur, for you must be weak. And it was
+      that sunken pier? I shall speak to Monseigneur; he must have it removed.
+      Bull, stop growling; you are very impolite; the gentleman is in distress.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice sat down, not because he was weak, but because the desire to gain
+      the street had suddenly subsided. Who was this girl who could say &ldquo;must&rdquo;
+       to the formidable prelate? His quick eye noticed that she showed no sign
+      of embarrassment. Indeed, she impressed him as one who was superior to
+      that petty disturbance of collected thought. Somehow it seemed to him, as
+      she stood there looking down at him, that he, too, should be standing. But
+      she put forth a hand with gentle insistence when he made as though to
+      rise. What an exquisite face, he thought. Against the whiteness of her
+      skin her lips burned like poppy petals. Innocent, inquisitive eyes smiled
+      gently, eyes in whose tranquil depths lay the glory of the world, asleep.
+      Presently a color, faint and fugitive, dimmed the whiteness of her cheeks.
+      Maurice, conscious of his rudeness and of a warmth in his own cheeks,
+      instinctively lowered his gaze.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon my rudeness,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is your name, Monsieur,&rdquo; she asked calmly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is Maurice Carewe. I am living in Vienna. I came to Bleiberg for
+      pleasure, but the first day has not been propitious,&rdquo; with an apologetic
+      glance at his dripping clothes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maurice Carewe,&rdquo; slowly repeating the full name as if to imprint it on
+      her memory. &ldquo;You are English?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He said: &ldquo;No; I am one of those dreadful Yankees you have possibly read
+      about.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her teeth gleamed. &ldquo;Yes, I have heard of them. But you do not appear so
+      very dreadful; though at present you are truly not at your best. What is
+      this&mdash;this Yankeeland like?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It would take me ever so long to tell you about it, it is such a great
+      country.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a patriot!&rdquo; clapping her hands. &ldquo;No other country is so fine and
+      large and great as your own. But tell me, is it as large as Austria?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Austria? You will not be offended if I tell you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; with fun in his eyes, &ldquo;it is my opinion that I could hide Austria
+      in my country so thoroughly that nobody would ever be able to find it
+      again.&rdquo; He wondered how she would accept this statement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She lifted her chin and laughed, and the bulldog wagged his tail, as he
+      always did when mirth touched her. He jumped up beside Maurice and looked
+      into his face. Maurice patted his broad head, and he submitted. The girl
+      looked rather surprised.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you a magician?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bull never makes friends.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I do,&rdquo; said Maurice; &ldquo;perhaps he understands that, and comes
+      half-way. But it is rather strange to see a bulldog in this part of the
+      country.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was given to me, years ago, by an Englishman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That accounts for it.&rdquo; He was experiencing a deal of cold, but he dared
+      not mention it. &ldquo;And may I ask your name?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, Monsieur,&rdquo; shyly, &ldquo;to tell you my name would be to frighten you
+      away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure nothing could do that,&rdquo; he declared earnestly. Had he been
+      thinking of aught but her eyes he might have caught the significance of
+      her words. But, then, the cold was numbing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She surveyed him with critical eyes. She saw a clean-shaven face, brown,
+      handsome and eager, merry blue eyes, a chin firm and aggressive, a
+      mischievous mouth, a forehead which showed the man of thought, a slim
+      athletic form which showed the man of action&mdash;all of which combined
+      to produce that indescribable air which attaches itself to the gentleman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is Alexia,&rdquo; she said, after some hesitation, watching him closely to
+      observe the effect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But he was as far away as ever. &ldquo;Alexia what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only Alexia,&rdquo; a faint coquetry stealing into her glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O, then you are probably a maid?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Y&mdash;es. But you are disappointed?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, indeed. You have put me more at ease. I suppose you serve the
+      princess?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whenever I can,&rdquo; demurely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He could not keep his eyes from hers. &ldquo;They say that she is a very lonely
+      princess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So lonely.&rdquo; And the coquetry faded from her eyes as her glance wandered
+      waterward and became fixed on some object invisible and far away. &ldquo;Poor
+      lonely princess!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice was growing colder and colder, but he did not mind. He had wished
+      for some woman to talk to; his wish had been granted. &ldquo;I feel sorry for
+      her, if what they say is true,&rdquo; having no other words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what do they say, Monsieur?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That she and her father have been socially ostracized. I should be proud
+      to be her friend.&rdquo; Once the words were gone from him, he saw their
+      silliness. &ldquo;A presumptuous statement,&rdquo; he added; &ldquo;I am an obscure
+      foreigner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Friendship, Monsieur, is a thing we all should prize, all the more so
+      when it is disinterested.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He said rapidly, for fear she might hear his teeth chatter: &ldquo;They say she
+      is very beautiful. Tell me what she is like.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am no judge of what men call beauty. As to her character, I believe I
+      may recommend that. She is good.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was sure that merriment twitched the corners of her lips, and he grew
+      thoughtful. &ldquo;Alexia. Is that not her Highness's name also?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Monsieur; we have the same names.&rdquo; Her eyes fell, and she began to
+      finger the pages of the book.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am rested now,&rdquo; he said, with a sudden distrust. &ldquo;I thank you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, then, and I will show you the way to the gate.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sorry to have troubled you,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She did not reply, and together they walked up the path. The plants were
+      dying, and the odor of decay hovered about them. Splashes of rich
+      vermilion crowned the treetops, leaves of gold, russet and faded green
+      rustled on the ground. The sun was gone behind the hills, the lake was
+      tinted with salmon and dun, and Maurice (who honestly would have liked to
+      run) was turning purple, not from atmospheric effect, but from the partly
+      congealed state of his blood. Already he was thinking that his adventure
+      had turned out rather well. It was but a simple task for a man of his
+      imagination to construct a pretty romance, with a kingdom for a
+      background. A maid of honor, perhaps; no matter, he would find means for
+      future communication. A glamour had fallen upon him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As to the girl, who had scarce spoken to a dozen young men in her life,
+      she was comparing four faces; one of a visionary character of which she
+      had dreamed for ten years, and three which had recently entered into the
+      small circle of her affairs. It was little pleasure to her to talk to
+      those bald diplomats, who were always saying what they did not mean, and
+      meaning what they did not say. And the young officers in the palace never
+      presumed to address her unless spoken to.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What a monotonous life it was! She was like a bird in a cage, ever longing
+      for freedom, not of the air, but of impulse. To be permitted to yield to
+      the impulses of the heart! What a delightful thought that was! But she,
+      she seemed apart from all which was desirable to youth. Women courtesied
+      to her, men touched their hats; but homage was not what she wanted. To be
+      free, that was all; to come and go at will; to laugh and to sing. But ever
+      the specter of royal dignity walked beside her and held her captive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was to wed a man on whom she looked with indifference, but wed him she
+      must; it was written. A toy of ambition, she was neither more nor less.
+      Ah, to be as her maids, not royal, but free. Of the three new faces one
+      belonged to the man whom she was to wed; another was a tall, light-haired
+      man whom she had seen from her carriage; the last walked by her side. And
+      somehow, the visionary face, the faces of the man whom she was to wed and
+      the light-haired man suddenly grew indistinct. She glanced from the corner
+      of her eyes at Maurice, but meeting his glance, in which lay something
+      that caused her uneasiness, her gaze dropped to the path.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall be pleased to tell her Highness that a stranger, who has not met
+      her, who does not even suspect her rebel spirit, desires to be her
+      friend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O, Mademoiselle,&rdquo; he cried in alarm, &ldquo;that desire was expressed in
+      confidence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it. It is for that very reason I wish her to know. Have no fear,
+      Monsieur;&rdquo; and she laughed without mirth. &ldquo;Her Highness will not send you
+      to prison.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Close at hand Maurice discovered a cuirassier, who, on seeing them,
+      saluted and stood attention. Maurice was puzzled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lieutenant,&rdquo; said the girl, &ldquo;Monsieur&mdash;Carewe?&rdquo; turning to Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, that is the name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, Monsieur Carewe has met with an accident; please escort him
+      to the gate. I trust you will not suffer any inconvenience from the cold.
+      Good evening, Monsieur Carewe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She retraced her steps down the path. The bulldog followed. Once he looked
+      back at Maurice, and stopped as if undecided, then went on. Maurice stared
+      at the figure of the girl until it vanished behind a clump of rose bushes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Monsieur Carewe!&rdquo; said the Lieutenant, a broad smile under his
+      mustache.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon, Lieutenant. May I ask you who she is?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What! You do not know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice suddenly saw light. &ldquo;Her Royal Highness?&rdquo; blankly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Her Royal Highness, God bless her!&rdquo; cried the Lieutenant heartily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Amen to that,&rdquo; replied Maurice, his agitation visible even to the
+      officer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They arrived at the gate in silence. The cuirassier raised the bar,
+      touched his helmet, and said, with something like an amused twinkle in his
+      eyes: &ldquo;Would Monsieur like to borrow my helmet for a space?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice put up a hand to his water-soaked hair, and gave an ejaculation of
+      dismay. He had forgotten all about his hat, which was by now, in-all
+      probabilities, at the bottom of the lake.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Curse the luck!&rdquo; he said, in English.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Curse the want of it, I should say!&rdquo; was the merry rejoinder, also in
+      English.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice threw back his head and laughed, and the cuirassier caught the
+      infection.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;However, there is some compensation for the hat,&rdquo; said the cuirassier,
+      straightening his helmet. &ldquo;You are the first stranger who has spoken to
+      her Highness this many a day. Did the dog take to your calves? Well, never
+      mind; he has no teeth. It was only day before yesterday that the Marshal
+      swore he'd have the dog shot. Poor dog! He is growing blind, too, or he'd
+      never have risked his gums on the Marshal, who is all shins. If you will
+      wait I will fetch you one of the archbishop's skull caps.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't trouble yourself,&rdquo; laughed Maurice. &ldquo;What I need is not a hat, but
+      a towel, and I'll get that at the hotel. George! I feel so like an ass.
+      What is your name, Lieutenant?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Von Mitter, Carl von Mitter, at your service. And you are Monsieur
+      Carewe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of the American legation in Vienna. Thanks for your trouble.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;None at all. You had better hurry along; your nails are growing black.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice passed into the street. &ldquo;Her Royal Highness!&rdquo; he muttered. &ldquo;The
+      crown princess, and I never suspected. Her name is Alexia, and she serves
+      the princess whenever she can! Maurice, you are an ass!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Having arrived at this conclusion, and brushing the dank hair from his
+      eyes, he thrust his hands into his oozing pockets, and proceeded across
+      the square toward the Continental, wondering if there was a rear entrance.
+      Happily the adventure absorbed all his thoughts. He was quite unobservant
+      of the marked attention bestowed on him. Carriages filled the Strasse, and
+      many persons moved along the walks. It was the promenade hour. The water,
+      which still dripped from his clothes and trickled from his shoes, left a
+      conspicuous trail behind; and this alone, without the absence of a hat,
+      would have made him the object of amused and wondering smiles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A gendarme stared at him, but seeing that he walked straight, said
+      nothing. Maurice, however, was serenely unaware of what was passing around
+      him. He did not notice even the tall, broad-shouldered man who, with a gun
+      under his arm, brushed past him, followed by a round-faced German over
+      whose back was slung a game-bag. The man with the gun was also oblivious
+      of his surroundings. He bumped into several persons, who scowled at him,
+      but offered no remonstrance after having taken his measure. The German put
+      his pipe into his pocket and advanced a step.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The other gun, Herr,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;would have meant the boar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So it would, perhaps,&rdquo; was the reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We've done pretty good work these two days,&rdquo; went on the German; but as
+      the other appeared not to have heard he fell to the rear again, a sardonic
+      smile flitting over his oily face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Maurice reached the hotel cafe he left an order for a cognac to be
+      sent to his room, whither he repaired at once. As he got into dry clothes
+      he mused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder what sort of a man that crown prince is? Now, if I were he, an
+      army could not keep me away from Bleiberg. Either he is no judge of
+      beauty, or the peasant girls hereabout are something extraordinary. Pshaw!
+      a man always makes an ass of himself on his wedding eve; the crown prince
+      is simply starting in early. I believe I'll hang on here till the wedding
+      day; a royal marriage is one of those things which I have yet to see. I
+      have a fortnight or more to knock around in. I should like to know what
+      the duchess will eventually do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He sipped the last drop of the cognac and went down the stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER V. BEHIND THE PUPPET BOOTH
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      While the absent-minded hunter strode down toward the lower town, and
+      Maurice sipped his cognac, the king lay in his bed in the palace and
+      aimlessly fingered the counterpane. There was now no beauty in his face.
+      It was furrowed and pale, and an endless fever burned in the sunken eyes&mdash;eyes
+      like coals, which suddenly flare before they turn to ash.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The archbishop nor the chancellor could see anything in the dim corners of
+      the royal bed chamber, but he could. It was the mocking finger of death,
+      and it was leveled at him. Spring had come, and summer and autumn and
+      winter, and spring again, but he had not wandered through the green
+      fields, except in dreams, and the byways he loved knew him no more. Ah, to
+      sit still like a spectator and to see the world pass by! To be a part of
+      it, and yet not of it! To see the glory of strength and vigor just beyond
+      one's grasp, the staffs to lean on crumble to the touch, and the stars of
+      hope fade away one by one from the firmament of one's dreams! Here was
+      weariness for which there was no remedy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Day by day time pressed him on toward the inevitable. No human hand could
+      stay him. He could think, but he could not act. He could move, but he
+      could not stand nor walk. And that philosophy which had in other days
+      sustained him was shattered and threadbare. He was dead, yet he lived.
+      Fate has so many delicate ironies.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had tried to make his people love him, only to acquire their hate. He
+      had reduced taxation, only to be scorned. He had made the city beautiful,
+      only to be cursed. A paralytic, the theme of ribald verse, the butt of
+      wineroom wits, the object of contumely to his people, his beneficiaries!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The ingratitude of kings bites not half so deep as the ingratitude of the
+      people. Tears filled his eyes, and he fumbled his lips. There were only
+      two bright spots in his futile life. The first was his daughter, who read
+      to him, who was the first in the morning to greet him and last at night to
+      leave him. The second was the evening hour when the archbishop and the
+      chancellor came in to discuss the affairs of state.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Prince Frederick has not yet been heard from?&rdquo; was his first inquiry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Sire,&rdquo; answered the chancellor. &ldquo;The matter is altogether mysterious.
+      The police can find no trace of him. He left Carnavia for Bleiberg; he
+      stopped at Ehrenstein, directed his suite to proceed; there, all ends. The
+      ambassador from Carnavia approached me to-day. He scouts the idea of a
+      peasant girl, and hinted at other things.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said the king, &ldquo;there is something behind all this. Frederick is
+      not a youth of peccadilloes. Something has happened to him. But God send
+      him safe and sound to us, so much depends on him. And Alexia?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Says nothing,&rdquo; the archbishop answered, &ldquo;a way with her when troubled.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And my old friend, Lord Fitzgerald?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The prelate shook his head sadly. &ldquo;We have just been made acquainted with
+      his death. God rest his kindly soul.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The king sank deeper into his pillows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But we shall hear from his son within a few days,&rdquo; continued the prelate,
+      taking the king's hand in his own. &ldquo;My son, cease to worry. Alexia's
+      future is in good hands. I have confidence that the public debt will be
+      liquidated on the twentieth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Or renewed,&rdquo; said the chancellor. &ldquo;Your Majesty must not forget that
+      Prince Frederick sacrifices his own private fortune to adjust our
+      indebtedness. That is the wedding gift which he offers to her Highness.
+      One way or the other, we have nothing to fear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O!&rdquo; cried the king, &ldquo;I had forgotten that magnanimity. His disappearance
+      is no longer a mystery. He is dead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His auditors could not repress the start which this declaration caused
+      them to make.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire,&rdquo; said the chancellor, quietly, &ldquo;princes are not assassinated these
+      days. Our worry is perhaps all needless. The prince is young, and
+      sometimes youth flings off the bridle and runs away. But he loves her
+      Highness, and the Carnavians are not fickle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The prelate and the statesman had different ideas in regard to the peasant
+      girl. To the prelate a woman was an unknown quantity, and he frowned. The
+      statesman, who had once been young, knew a deal about woman, and he
+      smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sometimes, my friends,&rdquo; said the king, &ldquo;I can see beyond the human
+      glance. I hear the crumbling of walls. But for that lonely child I could
+      die in peace. The crown I wear is of lead; God hasten the day that lifts
+      it from my brow.&rdquo; When the king spoke again, he said: &ldquo;And that insolent
+      Von Rumpf is gone at last? I am easier. He should have been sent about his
+      business ten years ago. What does Madame the duchess say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So little,&rdquo; answered the chancellor, &ldquo;that I begin to distrust her
+      silence. But she is a wise woman, though her years are but five and
+      twenty, and she will not make any foolish declaration of war which would
+      only redound to her chagrin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the fascination in these crowns of straw?&rdquo; said the king to the
+      prelate. &ldquo;Ah, my father, you strive for the crown to come; and yet your
+      earnest but misguided efforts placed this earthly one on my head. You were
+      ambitious for me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay,&rdquo; and the prelate bent his head. &ldquo;It was self that spoke, worldly
+      aggrandizement. I wished&mdash;God forgive me!&mdash;to administer not to
+      the prince but to the king. I am punished. The crown has broken your life.
+      It was the passing glory of the world; and I fell.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And were not my eyes as dazzled by the crown as yours were by the robes?
+      Why did we leave the green hills of Osia? What destiny writes, fate must
+      unfold. And oh, the dreams I had of being great! I am fifty-eight and you
+      are seventy. And look; I am a broken twig, and you tower above me like an
+      ancient oak, and as strong.&rdquo; To the chancellor he said: &ldquo;And what is the
+      budget?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sire, it is fairly quiet in the lower town. The native troops have been
+      paid, and all signs of discontent abated. The duchess can do nothing but
+      replace von Rumpf. The Marshal is a straw in the wind; von Wallenstein and
+      Mollendorf, I hold a sword above their necks. Nearly half the Diet is with
+      us. There has been some strange meddling in the customs. Englishmen have
+      brought me complaints, through the British legation, regarding such
+      inspections as were never before heard of in a country at peace. I
+      consulted the chief inspector and he affirmed the matter. He was under
+      orders of the minister of police. It appears to me that a certain
+      Englishman is to be kept out of the country for reasons well known to us.
+      I have suspended police power over the customs. Ah, Sire, if you would but
+      agree with Monseigneur to dismiss the cabinet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is too late,&rdquo; said the king.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is only one flaw,&rdquo; continued the chancellor. &ldquo;This flaw is Colonel
+      Beauvais, chief in command of the cuirassiers, who in authority stands
+      between the Marshal and General Kronau. I fear him. Why? Instinct. He is
+      too well informed of my projects for one thing; he laughs when I suggest
+      in military affairs. Who is he? A Frenchman, if one may trust to a name;
+      an Austrian, if one may trust from whence he came, recommended by the
+      premier himself. He entered the cuirassiers as a Captain. You yourself,
+      Sire, made him what he is&mdash;the real military adviser of the kingdom.
+      But what of his past? No one knows, unless it be von Wallenstein, his
+      intimate. I, for one, while I may be wrong, trust only those whose past I
+      know, and even then only at intervals.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Colonel Beauvais?&rdquo; murmured the king. &ldquo;I am sure that you are unjustly
+      suspicious. How many times have I leaned on his stout arm! He taught
+      Alexia a thousand tricks of horse, so that to-day she rides as no other
+      woman in the kingdom rides. Would that I stood half so straight and looked
+      at the world half so fearlessly. He is the first soldier in the kingdom.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All men are honest in your Majesty's eyes,&rdquo; said the archbishop.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All save the man within me,&rdquo; replied the king.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At this juncture the king's old valet came in with the evening meal; and
+      soon after the prelate and the chancellor withdrew from the chamber.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How long will he live?&rdquo; asked the latter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A year; perhaps only till to-morrow. Ah, had he but listened to me
+      several years ago, all this would not have come to pass. He would see
+      nothing; he persisted in dreams. With the death of Josef he was convinced
+      that his enemies had ceased to be. Had he listened, I should have
+      dismissed the cabinet, and found enough young blood to answer my purposes;
+      I should have surrounded him with a mercenary army two thousand strong; by
+      now he should have stood strongly entrenched.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They have robbed him, but you and I were permitted to do nothing. Where
+      is the prosperity of which we formerly boasted? I, too, hear crumbling
+      walls. Yet, the son of this Englishman, whose strange freak is still
+      unaccountable, will come at the appointed time; I know the race. He will
+      renew the loan for another ten years. What a fancy! Lord Fitzgerald was an
+      eccentric man. Given a purpose, he pursued it to the end, neither love nor
+      friendship, nor fear swerved him. Do you know that he made a vow that Duke
+      Josef should never sit on this throne, nor his descendants? What were five
+      millions to him, if in giving them he realized the end? The king would
+      never explain the true cause of this Englishman's folly, but I know that
+      it was based on revenge, the cause of which also is a mystery. If only the
+      prince were here!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He will come; youth will be youth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have never been young.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not in that particular sense to which you refer,&rdquo; dryly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      * * * * * *
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the chamber of finance Colonel Beauvais leaned over the desk and
+      perused the writing on a slip of paper which the minister had given him.
+      Enough daylight remained to permit the letters to stand out legibly. When
+      he had done the Colonel tossed back the missive, and the minister tore it
+      into shreds and dropped them into the waste basket.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So much for your pains,&rdquo; said Beauvais. &ldquo;The spy, who has eaten up ten
+      thousand crowns, is not worth his salt. He has watched this man Hamilton
+      for two days, been his guide in the hills, and yet learns nothing. And the
+      rigor of the customs is a farce.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This day,&rdquo; replied the minister, &ldquo;the police lost its jurisdiction over
+      the customs. Complaints have been entered at the British legation, which
+      forwarded them to the chancellor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O ho!&rdquo; The Colonel pulled his mustache.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I warned you against this. The chancellor is a man to be respected,
+      whatever his beliefs. I warned you and Mollendorf of the police what the
+      result would be. The chancellor has a hard hand when it falls. He was
+      always bold; now he is more so since he practically stands alone. In games
+      of chance one always should play close. You are in a hurry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have waited six years.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I have waited fourteen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, I shall pass into the active. I shall watch this Englishman
+      myself. He is likely to prove the agent. Count, the time for waiting is
+      gone. If the debt is liquidated or renewed&mdash;and there is Prince
+      Frederick to keep in mind&mdash;we shall have played and lost. Disgrace
+      for you; for me&mdash;well, perhaps there is a power behind me too strong.
+      The chancellor? Pouf! I have no fear of him. But you who laugh at the
+      archbishop&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is too old.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you say. But he has dreams unknown to us. He has ceased to act; why?
+      He is waiting for the curtain to rise. Nothing escapes him; he is letting
+      us go to what end we will, only, if we do not act at once, to draw us to a
+      sudden halt. Now to this meddling Englishman: we have offered him a
+      million&mdash;five millions for four. He laughs. He is a millionaire. With
+      characteristic bombast he declares that money has no charms. For six
+      months, since his father's death, we have hounded him, in vain. It is
+      something I can not understand. What is Leopold to these Englishmen that
+      they risk a princely fortune to secure him his throne? Friendship? Bah,
+      there is none.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not in France nor in Austria. But this man was an Englishman; they leave
+      legacies of friendship.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Colonel walked to the window and looked down into the gardens. He
+      remained there for a time. Von Wallenstein eyed him curiously. Presently
+      the soldier returned to his seat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are crossing a chasm; a man stands in our way; as we can not go around
+      him, we, being the stronger, push him aside. Eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You would not kill&mdash;&rdquo; began the minister.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let us use the French meaning of the word `suppress.' And why not?
+      Ambition, wherever it goes, leaves a trail of blood. What is a human life
+      in this game we play? A leaf, a grain of sand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, since the prince promises to liquidate the debt, what matters it if
+      the Englishman comes? It is all one and the same.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Within twenty, nay, within fifteen days, what may not happen?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are ambitious,&rdquo; said von Wallenstein, slyly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And who is not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is a Marshal's baton so much, then, above your present position? You are
+      practically the head of the army.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A valiant army!&rdquo; laughing; &ldquo;five thousand men. Why, Madame the duchess
+      has six thousand and three batteries.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Her army of six thousand is an expedient; you can raise volunteers to the
+      amount of ten thousand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To be sure I could; but supposing I did not want to?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The minister dropped his gaze and began fingering the paper cutter. The
+      Colonel's real purpose was still an enigma to him. &ldquo;Come, you have the
+      confidence of the king, the friendship of her Royal Highness. What do you
+      gain in serving us? The baton?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You embarrass me. Questions? I should not like to lie to you. Batons were
+      fine things when Louises and Napoleons conferred them. I have thrown my
+      dice into the common cup; let that be sufficient.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A man who comes from a noble house such as you come from&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, count, that was never to be referred to. Be content with my brain and
+      sword. And then, there is the old saying, Give a man an ell, and look to
+      your rod. We are all either jackals or lions, puppets or men behind the
+      booth. I am a lion.&rdquo; He rose, drew his saber half-way from the scabbard,
+      and sent it slithering back. &ldquo;In a fortnight we put it to the touch to win
+      or lose it all, as the poet says. Every man for himself, and let the
+      strongest win, say I.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are playing two games,&rdquo; coldly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you? Is it for pure love of Madame the duchess that you risk your
+      head? Come, as you say; admit that you wish to see my hand without showing
+      yours. A baton is not much for me, as you have hinted, but it is all that
+      was promised me. And you, if we win, will still be minister of finances?
+      What is that maggot I see behind your eyes? Is it not spelled
+      `chancellor'? But, remember, Madame has friends to take care of in the
+      event of our success. We can not have all the spoils. To join the kingdom
+      and the duchy will create new offices, to be sure, but we can have only
+      part of them. As to games, I shall, out of the kindness in my heart, tell
+      you that I am not playing two, but three. Guess them if you can. Next to
+      the chancellorship is the embassy to Vienna, and an embassy to Paris is to
+      be created. Madame is a superior woman. Who knows?&rdquo; with a smile that
+      caused the other to pale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are mad to dream of that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As you say, I come of a noble house,&rdquo; carelessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are mad.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, count,&rdquo; the soldier replied. &ldquo;I have what Balzac calls a thirst for a
+      full life in a short space.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I would give a deal to read what is going on in that head of yours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Doubtless. But what is to become of our friends the Marshal and
+      Mollendorf? What will be left for them? Perhaps there will be a chamber of
+      war, a chamber of the navy. As a naval minister the Marshal would be
+      nicely placed. There would be no expense of building ships or paying
+      sailors, which would speak well for the economy of the new government. The
+      Marshal is old; we shall send him to Servia. At least the office will pay
+      both his vanity and purse to an extent equal to that of his present
+      office. By the way, nothing has yet been heard from Prince Frederick. Ah,
+      these young men, these plump peasant girls!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Both laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Till this evening, then;&rdquo; and the Colonel went from the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The minister of finance applied a match to the tapers. He held the burning
+      match aloft and contemplated the door through which the soldier had gone.
+      The sting of the incipient flame aroused him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What,&rdquo; he mused aloud, as he arranged the papers on his desk, &ldquo;is his
+      third game?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It appears to me,&rdquo; said a voice from the wall behind, &ldquo;that the same
+      question arises in both our minds.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The minister wheeled his chair, his mouth and brows puckered in dismay.
+      From a secret panel in the wall there stepped forth a tall, thin,
+      sour-visaged old man of military presence. He calmly sat down in the chair
+      which Beauvais had vacated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had forgotten all about you, Marshal!&rdquo; exclaimed the count, smiling
+      uneasily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A statement which I am most ready to believe,&rdquo; replied old Marshal Kampf,
+      with a glance which caused the minister yet more uneasiness. &ldquo;What
+      impressed me among other things was, `But what is to become of our friends
+      the Marshal and Mollendorf?' I am Marshal; I am about to risk all for
+      nothing. Why should I not remain Marshal for the remainder of my days? It
+      is a pleasant thing to go to Vienna once the year and to witness the
+      maneuvers, with an honorary position on the emperor's staff. To be Marshal
+      here is to hold a sinecure, yet it has its compensations. The uniforms,
+      gray and gold, are handsome; it is an ostrich plume that I wear in my
+      chapeau de bras; the medals are of gold. My friend, it is the vanity of
+      old age which forgives not.&rdquo; And the Marshal, the bitterest tongue in all
+      Bleiberg, reached over and picked up the cigar which lay by the inkwells.
+      He lit it at one of the tapers, and sank again into the chair. &ldquo;Count, how
+      many games are you playing?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Marshal, it was not I who spoke of games. I am playing no game,
+      save for the legitimate sovereign of this kingdom. I ask for no reward.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Disinterested man! The inference is, however, that, since you have not
+      asked for anything, you have been promised something. Confess it, and have
+      done.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marshal!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it possible that you suspect me?&rdquo; The cold eyes grew colder, and the
+      thin lips almost disappeared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When three men watch each other as do Beauvais, Mollendorf and you, it is
+      because each suspects the other of treachery. You haven't watched me
+      because I am old, but because I am old I have been watching you.
+      Mollendorf aspires to greatness, you have your gaze on the chancellorship,
+      and curse me if the Colonel isn't looking after my old shoes! Am I to give
+      up my uniform, my medals and my plume&mdash;for nothing? And who the devil
+      is this man Beauvais, since that is not his name? Is he a fine bird whose
+      feathers have been plucked?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The minister did not respond to the question; he began instead to fidget
+      in his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When I gave my word to his Highness the duke, it was without conditions.
+      I asked no favors; I considered it my duty. Let us come to an
+      understanding. Material comfort is necessary to a man of my age. Fine
+      phrases and a medal or two more do not count. I am, then, to go to Servia.
+      You were very kind to hide me in your cabinet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was to show you that I had no secrets from you,&rdquo; quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let us pass on. Mollendorf is to go to Paris, where he will be a
+      nonentity, while in his present office he is a power in the land&mdash;Devil
+      take me, but it seems to me that we are all a pack of asses! Our gains
+      will not be commensurate with our losses. The navy? Well, we'll let that
+      pass; the Colonel, I see, loves a joke.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You forget our patriotism for the true house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not give it its true name&mdash;self-interest?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marshal, in heaven's name, what has stirred your bile?&rdquo; The minister was
+      losing his patience, a bad thing for him to do in the presence of the old
+      warrior.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is something I've been swallowing this past year.&rdquo; The Marshal tipped
+      the ash of his cigar into the waste basket.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marshal, will you take the word not of the minister, but of the von
+      Wallenstein, that whatever my reward shall be for my humble services,
+      yours shall not be less?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks, but I have asked for no reward. If I accepted gain for what I do,
+      I should not be too old to blush.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not understand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Self-interest blinds us. I have nothing but pity for this king whose only
+      crime is an archbishop; and I can not accept gain at his expense; I should
+      blush for shame. Had I my way, he should die in peace. He has not long to
+      live. The archbishop&mdash;well, we can not make kings, they are born. But
+      there is one thing more: Over all your schemes is the shadow of Austria.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Austria?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. The Colonel speaks of a power behind him. Bismarck looks hungrily
+      toward Schleswig-Holstein. Austria casts amorous eyes at us. A
+      protectorate? We did not need it. It was forced on us. When Austria
+      assumed to dictate to us as to who should be king, she also robbed us of
+      our true independence. Twenty years ago there was no duchy; it was all one
+      kingdom. Who created this duchy when Albrecht came on the throne? Austria.
+      Why? If we live we shall read.&rdquo; He rose, shook his lean legs. &ldquo;I have been
+      for the most part neutral. I shall remain neutral. There is an
+      undercurrent on which you have failed to reckon. Austria, mistress of the
+      confederation. There are two men whom you must watch. One is the
+      archbishop.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The archbishop?&rdquo; The minister was surprised that the Marshal should
+      concur with the Colonel. &ldquo;And the other?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your friend the Colonel,&rdquo; starting for the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The minister smiled. &ldquo;Will you not dine with me?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks. But I have the Servian minister on my hands to-night. A propos,
+      tell the Colonel that I decline Belgrade. I prefer to die at home.&rdquo; And he
+      vanished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Wallenstein reviewed the statements of both his visitors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall watch Monseigneur the archbishop.&rdquo; Then he added, with a
+      half-smile: &ldquo;God save us if the Marshal's sword were half so sharp as his
+      tongue! It was careless of me to forget that I had shut him up in the
+      cabinet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Meanwhile Beauvais walked slowly toward his quarters, with his saber
+      caught up under his arm. Once he turned and gazed at the palace, whose
+      windows began to flash with light.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, they are puppets and jackals, and I am the lion. For all there shall
+      serve my ends. I shall win, and when I do&mdash;&rdquo; He laughed silently.
+      &ldquo;Well, I am a comely man, and Madame the duchess shall be my wife.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VI. MADEMOISELLE OF THE VEIL
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The public park at night was a revelation to Maurice, who, lonely and
+      restless, strolled over from the hotel in quest of innocent amusement. He
+      was none the worse for his unintended bath; indeed, if anything, he was
+      much the better for it. His imagination was excited. It was not every day
+      that a man could, at one and the same time, fall out of a boat and into
+      the presence of a princess of royal blood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He tried to remember all he had said to her, but only two utterances
+      recurred to him; yet these caused him an exhilaration like the bouquet of
+      old wine. He had told her that she was beautiful, indirectly, it was true;
+      she had accepted his friendship, also indirectly, it was true. Now the
+      logical sequence of all this was&mdash;but he broke into a light laugh.
+      What little vanity he possessed was without conceit. Princesses of royal
+      blood were beyond the reach of logical sequence; and besides, she was to
+      be married on the twentieth of the month.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He followed one of the paths which led to the pavilion. It was a charming
+      scene, radiant with gas lamps, the vivid kaleidoscope of gowns and
+      uniforms. Beautiful faces flashed past him. There were in the air the
+      vague essences of violet, rose and heliotrope. Sometimes he caught the
+      echo of low laughter or the snatch of a gay song. The light of the lamps
+      shot out on the crinkled surface of the lake in tongues of quivering
+      flame, which danced a brave gavot with the phantom stars; and afar
+      twinkled the dipping oars. The brilliant pavilion, which rested partly
+      over land and partly over water, was thronged.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The band was playing airs from the operas of the day, and Maurice yielded
+      to the spell of the romantic music. He leaned over the pavilion rail, and
+      out of the blackness below he endeavored to conjure up the face of Nell
+      (or was it Kate?) who had danced with him at the embassies in Vienna,
+      fenced and ridden with him, till&mdash;till&mdash;with a gesture of
+      impatience he flung away the end of his cigar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Memory was altogether too elusive. It was neither Nell nor Kate he saw
+      smiling up at him, nor anybody else in the world but the Princess Alexia,
+      whose eyes were like wine in a sunset, whose lips were as red as the rose
+      of Tours in France, and whose voice was sweeter than that throbbing up
+      from the 'cello. If he thought much more of her, there would be a logical
+      sequence on his side. He laughed again&mdash;with an effort&mdash;and
+      settled back in his chair to renew his interest in the panorama revolving
+      around him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They certainly know how to live in these countries,&rdquo; he thought, &ldquo;for all
+      their comic operas. All I need, to have this fairy scene made complete, is
+      a woman to talk to. By George, what's to hinder me from finding one?&rdquo; he
+      added, seized by the spirit of mischief. He turned his head this way and
+      that. &ldquo;Ah! doubtless there is the one I'm looking for.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Seated alone at a table behind him was a woman dressed in gray. Her back
+      was toward him, but he lost none of the beautiful contours of her figure.
+      She wore a gray alpine hat, below the rim of which rebellious little curls
+      escaped, curls of a fine red-brown, which, as they trailed to the nape of
+      the firm white neck, lightened into a ruddy gold. Her delicate head was
+      turned aside, and to all appearances her gaze was directed to the entrance
+      to the pavilion. A heavy blue veil completely obscured her features;
+      though Maurice could see a rose-tinted ear and the shadow of a curving
+      chin and throat, which promised much. To a man there is always a mystery
+      lurking behind a veil. So he rose, walked past her, returned and
+      deliberately sat down in the chair opposite to hers. The fact that
+      gendarmes moved among the crowd did not disturb him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good evening, Mademoiselle,&rdquo; he said, politely lifting his hat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She straightened haughtily. &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; she said, resentment,
+      consternation and indignation struggling to predominate in her tones, &ldquo;I
+      did not give you permission to sit down. You are impertinent!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O, no,&rdquo; Maurice declared. &ldquo;I am not impertinent. I am lonesome. In all
+      Bleiberg I haven't a soul to talk to, excepting the hotel waiters, and
+      they are uninteresting. Grant me the privilege of conversing with you for
+      a moment. We shall never meet again; and I should not know you if we did.
+      Whether you are old or young, plain or beautiful, it matters not. My only
+      wish is to talk to a woman, to hear a woman's voice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shall I call a gendarme, Monsieur, and have him search for your nurse?&rdquo;
+       The attitude which accompanied these words was anything but assuring.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He, however, evinced no alarm. He even laughed. &ldquo;That was good! We shall
+      get along finely, I am sure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; she said, rising, &ldquo;I repeat that I do not desire your company,
+      nor to remain in the presence of your unspeakable effrontery.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beseech you!&rdquo; implored Maurice, also rising. &ldquo;I am a foreigner,
+      lonesome, unhappy, thousands of miles from home&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are English?&rdquo; suddenly. She stood with the knuckle of her forefinger
+      on her lips as if meditating. She sat down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice, greatly surprised, also sat down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;English?&rdquo; he repeated. His thought was: &ldquo;What the deuce! This is the
+      third time I have been asked that. Who is this gay Lothario the women seem
+      to be expecting?&rdquo; To her he continued: &ldquo;And why do you ask me that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps it is your accent. And what do you wish to say to me, Monsieur?&rdquo;
+       It was a voice of quality; all the anger had gone from it. She leaned on
+      her elbows, her chin in her palms, and through the veil he caught the
+      sparkle of a pair of wonderful eyes. &ldquo;Let us converse in English,&rdquo; she
+      added. &ldquo;It is so long since I have had occasion to speak in that tongue.&rdquo;
+       She repeated her question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O, I had no definite plan outlined,&rdquo; he answered; &ldquo;just generalities,
+      with the salt of repartee to season.&rdquo; He pondered over this sudden
+      transition from wrath to mildness. An Englishman? Very well; it might grow
+      interesting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it customary among the English to request to speak to strangers
+      without the usual formalities of an introduction?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can not say that it is,&rdquo; he answered truthfully enough; &ldquo;but the
+      procedure is never without a certain charm and excitement.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah; then you were led to address me merely by the love of adventure?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is it; the love of adventure. I should not have spoken to you had
+      you not worn the veil.&rdquo; He remarked that her English was excellent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You differ from the average Englishman, who is usually wrapt up in
+      himself and has no desire to talk to strangers. You have been a soldier.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The evolutions of his cane ceased. &ldquo;How in the world did you guess that?&rdquo;
+       surprised beyond measure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps there is something suggestive in your shoulders.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He tried to peer behind the veil, but in vain. &ldquo;Am I speaking to one I
+      have met before?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe not; indeed, sir, I am positive.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have been a soldier, but my shoulders did not tell you that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps I have the gift of clairvoyance,&rdquo; gazing again toward the
+      entrance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Or perhaps you have been to Vienna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who knows? Most Englishmen are, or have been, soldiers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is true.&rdquo; Inwardly, &ldquo;There's my friend the Englishman again. She's
+      guessing closer than she knows. Curious; she has mistaken me for some one
+      she does not know, if that is possible.&rdquo; He was somewhat in a haze. &ldquo;Well,
+      you have remarkable eyes. However, let us talk of a more interesting
+      subject; for instance, yourself. You, too, love adventure, that is, if I
+      interpret the veil rightly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; I like to see without being seen. But, of course, behind this love
+      of adventure which you possess, there is an important mission.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; he thought; &ldquo;you are not quite sure of me.&rdquo; Aloud, &ldquo;Yes, I came here
+      to witness the comic opera.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The comic opera? I do not understand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believed there was going to be trouble between the duchy and the
+      kingdom, but unfortunately the prima donna has refused the part.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The prima donna!&rdquo; in a muffled voice. &ldquo;Whom do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Son Altesse la Grande Duchesse! 'Voici le sabre de mon pere!'&rdquo; And he
+      whistled a bar from Offenbach, his eyes dancing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir!&mdash;I!&mdash;you do wrong to laugh at us!&rdquo; a flash from the
+      half-hidden eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Forgive me if I have offended you, but I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, sir, but you who live in a powerful country think we little folk have
+      no hearts, that we have no wrongs to redress, no dreams of conquest and of
+      power. You are wrong.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And whose side do you defend?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am a woman,&rdquo; was the equivocal answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which means that you are uncertain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have long ago made up my mind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wonderful! I always thought a woman's mind was like a time-table, subject
+      to change without notice. So you have made up your mind?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was born with its purpose defined,&rdquo; coldly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, now I begin to doubt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What?&rdquo; with a still lower degree of warmth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That you are a woman. Only goddesses do not change their minds&mdash;sometimes.
+      Well, then you are on the weaker side.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Or the stronger, since there are two sides.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the stronger?&rdquo; persistently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The side which is not the weaker. But the subject is what you English
+      call 'taboo.' It is treading on delicate ground to talk politics in the
+      open&mdash;especially in Bleiberg.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a diplomat you would make!&rdquo; he cried with enthusiasm. Certainly this
+      was a red-letter day in his calendar. This adventure almost equalled the
+      other, and, besides, in this instance, his skin was dry; he could enjoy it
+      more thoroughly. Who could this unknown be? &ldquo;If only you understood the
+      mystery with which you have enshrouded yourself!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do.&rdquo; She drew the veil more firmly about her chin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Grant me a favor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am talking to you, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This candor did not disturb him. &ldquo;The favor I ask is that you will lift
+      the corner of your veil; otherwise you will haunt me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am doomed to haunt you, then. If I should lift the corner of my veil
+      something terrible would happen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What! Are you as beautiful as that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a flash of teeth behind the veil, followed by the ripple of soft
+      laughter. &ldquo;It is difficult to believe you to be English. You are more like
+      one of those absurd Americans.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice did not like the adjective. &ldquo;I am one of them,&rdquo; wondering what the
+      effect of this admission would be. &ldquo;I am not English, but of the brother
+      race. Forgive me if I have imposed on you, but it was your fault. You said
+      that I was English, and I was too lonesome to enlighten you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are an American?&rdquo; She began to tap her gloved fingers against the
+      table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, to his astonishment, she gave way to laughter, honest and hearty.
+      &ldquo;How dense of me not to have known the moment you addressed me! Who but
+      the American holds in scorn custom's formalities and usages? Your grammar
+      is good, so good that my mistake is pardonable. The American is always
+      like the terrible infant; and you are a choice example.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice was not so pleased as he might have been. His ears burned. Still,
+      he went forward bravely. &ldquo;A man never pretends to be an Englishman without
+      getting into trouble.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not ask to speak to you. No one ever pretends to be an American.
+      Why is it you are always ashamed of your country?&rdquo; with malice
+      aforethought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice experienced the sting of many bees. &ldquo;I see that your experience is
+      limited to impostors. I, Mademoiselle, am proud of my country, the great,
+      free land which stands aside from the turmoil and laughs at your petty
+      squabbles, your kings, your princes. Laugh at me; I deserve it for not
+      minding my own business, but do not laugh at my country.&rdquo; His face was
+      flushed; he was almost angry. It was not her words; it was the contempt
+      with which she had invested them. But immediately he was ashamed of his
+      outburst. &ldquo;Ah, Mademoiselle, you have tricked me; you have found the
+      vulnerable part in my armor. I have spoken like a child. Permit me to
+      apologize for my apparent lack of breeding.&rdquo; He rose, bowed, and made as
+      though to depart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sit down, Monsieur,&rdquo; she said, picking up her French again. &ldquo;I forgive
+      you. I do more; I admire. I see that your freak had nothing behind it but
+      mischief. No woman need fear a man who colors when his country is made the
+      subject of a jest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All his anger evaporated. This was an invitation, and he accepted it. He
+      resumed his seat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The truth is, as I remarked, I was lonesome. I know that I have committed
+      a transgression, but the veil tempted me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is of no matter. A few moments, and you will be gone. I am waiting for
+      some one. You may talk till that person comes.&rdquo; Her voice was now in its
+      natural tone; and he was convinced that if her face were half as sweet,
+      she must possess rare beauty. &ldquo;Hush!&rdquo; as the band began to breathe forth
+      Chopin's polonaise. They listened until the music ceased.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said he rapturously, &ldquo;the polonaise! When you hear it, does there
+      not recur to you some dream of bygone happy hours, the sibilant murmur of
+      fragrant night winds through the crisp foliage, the faint call of Diana's
+      horn from the woodlands, moon-fairies dancing on the spider-webs, the
+      glint of the dew on the roses, the far-off music of the surges tossing
+      impotently on the sands, the forgetfulness of time and place and care, and
+      not a cloud 'twixt you and the heavens? Ah, the polonaise!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Surely you must be a poet!&rdquo; declared the Veil, when this panegyric was
+      done.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said he modestly, &ldquo;I never was quite poor enough for that exalted
+      position.&rdquo; He had recovered his good humor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed, you begin to interest me. What is your occupation when not in
+      search of&mdash;comic operas?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I serve Ananias.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ananias?&rdquo; A pause. &ldquo;Ah, you are a diplomat?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How clever of you to guess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yours is a careless country,&rdquo; observed the Veil.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Careless?&rdquo; mystified.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, to send forth her green and salad youth. Eh, bien! There are hopes
+      for you. If you live you will grow old; you will become bald and reserved;
+      you will not speak to strangers, to while away an idle hour; for permit
+      me, Monsieur, who am wise, to tell you that it is a dangerous practice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And do I look so very young?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your beard is that of a boy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;David slew Goliath.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At least you have a ready tongue,&rdquo; laughing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you told me that I had been a soldier.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But to this she had nothing to say.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am older than you think, Mademoiselle of the Veil. I have been a
+      soldier; I have seen hard service, too. Mine is no cushion sword. Youth?
+      'Tis a virtue, not a crime; and, besides, it is an excellent disguise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For some time she remained pensive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are thinking of something, Mademoiselle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you like adventure?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I subsist on it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have been a soldier; you are, then, familiar with the use of arms?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They tell me so,&rdquo; modestly. What was coming?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have some influence. May I trust you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On my honor,&rdquo; puzzled, yet eager.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There may be a comic opera, as you call it. War is not so impossible as
+      to be laughed at. The dove may fly away and the ravens come.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who in thunder might this woman be?&rdquo; he thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And,&rdquo; went on the Veil, &ldquo;an extra saber might be used. Give me your
+      address, in case I should find it necessary to send for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Now Maurice was a wary youth. Under ordinary circumstances he would have
+      given a fictitious address to this strange sybil with the prophecy of war;
+      for he had accosted her only in the spirit of fun. But here was the key
+      which he had been seeking, the key to all that had brought him to
+      Bleiberg. Intrigue, adventure, or whatever it was, and to whatever end, he
+      plunged into it. He drew out a card case, selected a card on which he
+      wrote &ldquo;Room 12, Continental,&rdquo; and passed it over the table. She read it,
+      and slipped it into her purse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice thought: &ldquo;Who wouldn't join the army with such recruiting
+      officers?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      While the pantomime took place, a man pushed by Maurice's chair and
+      crossed over to the table recently occupied by him. He sat down, lit a
+      short pipe, rested his feet on the lowest rung of the ladder-like railing,
+      and contemplated the western hills, which by now were enveloped in moon
+      mists. Neither Maurice nor his mysterious vis-a-vis remarked him. Indeed,
+      his broad back afforded but small attraction. And if he puffed his pipe
+      fiercely, nobody cared, since the breeze carried the smoke waterward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After putting the card into her purse, Mademoiselle of the Veil's gaze
+      once more wandered toward the entrance, and this time it grew fixed.
+      Maurice naturally followed it, and he saw a tall soldier in fatigue dress
+      elbowing his way through the crush. Many moved aside for him; those in
+      uniform saluted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; came from behind the veil, &ldquo;you may go now. I dismiss you. If
+      I have need of you I promise to send for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stood up. &ldquo;I thank you for the entertainment and the promise you
+      extend. I shall be easily found,&rdquo; committing himself to nothing. &ldquo;I
+      suppose you are a person of importance in affairs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not unlikely. I see that you love adventure for its own sake, for
+      you have not asked me if it be the duchy or the kingdom. Adieu, Monsieur,&rdquo;
+       with a careless wave of the gray-gloved hand. &ldquo;Adieu!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He took his dismissal heroically and shot a final glance at the
+      approaching soldier. His brows came together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where,&rdquo; he murmured, &ldquo;have I seen that picturesque countenance before?
+      Not in Europe; but where?&rdquo; He caught the arm of a passing gendarme. &ldquo;Who
+      is that gentleman in fatigue uniform, coming this way?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That, Monsieur,&rdquo; answered the gendarme in tones not unmixed with awe, &ldquo;is
+      Colonel Beauvais of the royal cuirassiers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks.... Beauvais; I do not remember the name. Truly I have had
+      experiences to-day. And for what house is Mademoiselle of the Veil?
+      Ravens? War? `Voici le sabre de mon pyre!'&rdquo; and with a gay laugh he went
+      his way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meanwhile Colonel Beauvais arrived at the table, tipped his hat to the
+      Veil, who rose and laid a hand on his arm. He guided her through the
+      pressing crowds.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, Madame,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you are very brave to choose such a rendezvous.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Danger is a tonic to the ill-spirited,&rdquo; was the reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If aught should happen to you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was in accord with her wishes that I am here. She suffers from
+      impatience; and I would risk much to satisfy her whims.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So would I, Madame; even life.&rdquo; There was a tremor of passion in his
+      voice, but she appeared not to notice it. &ldquo;Here is a nook out of the
+      lights; we may talk here with safety.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what is the news?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This: The man remains still in obscurity. But he shall be found. Listen,&rdquo;
+       and his voice fell into a whisper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Austria?&rdquo; Mademoiselle of the Veil pressed her hands together in
+      excitement. &ldquo;Is it true?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did I not promise you? It is so true that the end is in sight. Conspiracy
+      is talked openly in the streets, in the cafes, everywhere. The Osians will
+      be sand in the face of a tidal wave. A word from me, and Kronau follows
+      it. It all would be so easy were it not for the archbishop.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The archbishop?&rdquo; contemptuously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay, Madame; he is a man so deep, with a mind so abyssmal, that I would
+      give ten years of my life for a flash of his thoughts. He has some
+      project; apparently he gives his whole time to the king. He loves this
+      weak man Leopold; he has sacrificed the red hat for him, for the hat would
+      have taken him to Italy, as we who procured it intended it should.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The archbishop? Trust me; one month from now he will be recalled. That is
+      the news I have for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have taken a weight from my mind. What do you think in regard to the
+      rumor of the prince and the peasant girl?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It afforded me much amusement. You are a man of fine inventions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gaze toward the upper end of the pavilion, the end which we have just
+      left. Yes&mdash;there. I am having the owner of those broad shoulders
+      watched. That gendarme leaning against the pillar follows him wherever he
+      goes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That I am trying to ascertain. This much&mdash;he is an Englishman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mademoiselle of the Veil laughed. &ldquo;Pardon my irrelevancy, but the
+      remembrance of a recent adventure of mine was too strong.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice could not regain his interest in the scene. He strolled in and out
+      of the moving groups, but no bright eyes or winning smiles allured him.
+      Impelled by curiosity, he began to draw near the shadowed nook. Curiosity
+      in a journalist is innate, and time nor change can efface it. Curiosity in
+      those things which do not concern us is wrong. Ethics disavows the
+      practice, though philosophy sustains it. Perhaps in this instance Maurice
+      was philosophical, not ethical. Perhaps he wanted to hear the woman's
+      voice again, which was excusable. Perhaps it was neither the one nor the
+      other, but fate, which directed his footsteps. Certain it is that the
+      subsequent adventures would never have happened had he gone about his
+      business, as he should have done.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is this who stares at us?&rdquo; asked Beauvais, with a piercing glance and
+      a startled movement of his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A disciple of Pallas and a pupil of Mars,&rdquo; was the answer. &ldquo;I have been
+      recruiting, Colonel. There is sharpness sometimes in new blades. Do not
+      draw him with your eyes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Colonel continued his scrutiny, however, and there was an ugly droop
+      at the corners of his mouth, though it was partly hidden under his
+      mustache.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice, aware that he was not wanted, passed along, having in mind to
+      regain his former seat by the railing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Colonel,&rdquo; he mused, &ldquo;your face grows more familiar every moment. It was
+      not associated with agreeable things. But, what were they? Hang it! you
+      shall have a place in my thoughts till I have successfully labeled you.
+      Humph! Some one seems to have appropriated my seat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He viewed with indecision the broad back of the interloper, who at that
+      moment turned his head. At the sight of that bronzed profile Maurice gave
+      an exclamation of surprise and delight. He stepped forward and dropped his
+      hand on the stranger's shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;John Fitzgerald, or henceforth garlic shall be my salad!&rdquo; he cried in
+      loud, exultant tones.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VII. SOME DIALOGUE, A SPRAINED ANKLE, AND SOME SOLDIERS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The stranger returned Maurice's salute with open-mouthed dismay; the
+      monocle fell from his eye, he grasped the table with one hand and pushed
+      back the chair with the other, while Maurice heard the name of an
+      exceedingly warm place.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The gendarme, who was leaning against the pillar, straightened, opened his
+      jaws, snapped them, and hurried off.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maurice&mdash;Maurice Carewe?&rdquo; said the bewildered Englishman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No one else, though I must say you do not seem very glad to see me,&rdquo;
+       Maurice answered, conscious that he was all things but welcome.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hang you, I'm not!&rdquo; incogitantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go to the devil, then!&rdquo; cried Maurice, hotly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gently,&rdquo; said Fitzgerald, catching Maurice by the coat and pulling him
+      down into a chair. &ldquo;Confound you, could you not have made yourself known
+      to me without yelling my name at the top of your voice?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you ashamed of it?&rdquo; asked Maurice, loosing his coat from Fitzgerald's
+      grip.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm afraid of it,&rdquo; the Englishman admitted, in a lowered voice. &ldquo;And your
+      manly, resonant tones have cast it abroad. I am here incognito.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who the deuce are you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am Don Jahpet of Armenia; that is to say that I am a marked man. And
+      now, as you would inelegantly express it, you have put a tag on me. When I
+      left you in Vienna the other day I lied to you. I am sorry. I should have
+      trusted you, only I did not wish you to risk your life. You would have
+      insisted on coming along.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Risked my life?&rdquo; echoed Maurice. &ldquo;How many times have I not risked it? By
+      the way,&rdquo; impressed by a sudden thought, &ldquo;are you the Englishman every one
+      seems to be expecting?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo; Fitzgerald knocked his pipe against the railing. &ldquo;I am the man.
+      Worse luck! Was any one near when you called me by name?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only one of those wooden gendarmes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only one of those wooden gendarmes!&rdquo; ironically. &ldquo;Only one of those dogs
+      who have been at my heels ever since I arrived. And he, having heard, has
+      gone back to his master. Well, since you have started the ball rolling, it
+      is no more than fair that you should see the game to its end.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's it all about?&rdquo; asked Maurice, his astonishment growing and
+      growing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are your rooms?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have something important to tell me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps you may think so. At the Continental? Come along.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They passed out of the pavilion, along the path to the square, thence to
+      the terrace of the Continental, which they mounted. Not a word was said,
+      but Maurice was visibly excited, and by constant gnawing ruined his cigar.
+      He conducted his friend to the room on the second floor, the window of
+      which opened on a private balcony. Here he placed two chairs and a small
+      table; and with a bottle of tokayer between them they seated themselves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's it all about?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O, only a crown and a few millions in money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only a crown and a few millions in money,&rdquo; repeated Maurice very slowly,
+      for his mind could scarcely accept Fitzgerald and these two greatest
+      treasures on earth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A gendarme had leisurely followed them from the park. He took aside a
+      porter and quietly plied him with questions. Evidently the answers were
+      satisfactory, for he at once departed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice stared at the Englishman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Knocks you up a bit, eh?&rdquo; said Fitzgerald. &ldquo;Well, I am rather surprised
+      myself; that is to say, I was.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fire away,&rdquo; said Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To begin with, if I do not see the king to-morrow, it is not likely that
+      I ever shall.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The king?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My business here is with his Majesty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice filled the glasses and pushed one across the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here's!&rdquo; said he, and gulped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitzgerald drank slowly, however, as if arranging in his mind the salient
+      points in his forthcoming narrative.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have never been an extraordinarily communicative man; what I shall tell
+      you is known only to my former Colonel and myself. At Calcutta, where you
+      and I first met, I was but a Lieutenant in her Majesty's. To-day I am
+      burdened with riches such as I know not how to use, and possessor of a
+      title which sounds strange in my ears.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The dim light from the gas-jet in the room flickered over his face, and
+      Maurice saw that it was slightly contorted, as if by pain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My father was Lord Fitzgerald.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&rdquo; cried Maurice, &ldquo;the diplomat, the historian, the millionaire?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The same. Thirteen years ago we parted&mdash;a misunderstanding. I never
+      saw him again. Six months ago he died and left me a fortune, a title and a
+      strange legacy; and it is this legacy which brings me to Bleiberg. Do you
+      know the history of Leopold?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do. This throne belongs to the house of Auersperg, and the Osian
+      usurps. The fact that the minister of the duchess has been discredited was
+      what brought me here. Continue.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Fitzgerald proceeded briefly to acquaint the other with the strange
+      caprice of his father; how, when he left Bleiberg, he had been waylaid and
+      the certificates demanded; how he had entrusted them to his valet, who had
+      gone by another route; how the duke had sought him in Vienna and made
+      offers, bribes and threats; how he had laughed at all, and sworn that Duke
+      Josef should never be a king.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My father wished to save Leopold in spite of himself; and then, he had no
+      love for Josef. At a dinner given at the legation, there was among others
+      a toast to her Majesty. The duke laughed and tossed the wine to the floor.
+      It lost him his crown, for my father never forgave the insult. When the
+      duke died, his daughter took up the work with surprising vigor. It was all
+      useless; father was a rock, and would listen neither to bribes nor
+      threats. Now they are after me. They have hunted me in India, London, and
+      Vienna. I am an obscure soldier, with all my titles and riches; they
+      threaten me with death. But I am here, and my father's wishes shall be
+      carried out. That is all. I am glad that we have come together; you have
+      more invention than I have.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But why did you come yourself? You could have sent an agent. That would
+      have been simple.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An agent might be bought. It was necessary for me to come. However, I
+      might have waited till the twentieth. I should have come openly and
+      informed the British minister of my mission. As to the pheasants, they
+      could have waited. Perhaps my fears are without foundation, unless you
+      have been the unconscious cause of my true name being known. Every one has
+      heard the story. It is known as 'Fitzgerald's folly,' and has gone the
+      rounds of the diplomatic circles for ten years. I shall ask for an
+      audience to-morrow morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And these certificates fall due the same day that the princess is to be
+      married,&rdquo; mused his auditor. &ldquo;What a yarn for the papers!&rdquo; his love of
+      sensation being always close to the surface. &ldquo;Your father, you say, took
+      four million crowns; what became of the fifth?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The duke was permitted to secure that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A kind of court plaster for his wounds, eh? Why don't you get that other
+      million and run the kingdom yourself? It's a great opportunity.&rdquo; Maurice
+      laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Her Royal Highness must not be forgotten. My father thought much of her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But really I do not see why you are putting yourself to all this trouble.
+      The king will pay off the indebtedness; the kingdom is said to be rich, or
+      Austria wouldn't meddle with it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The king, on the twentieth of this month, will be some three millions
+      short.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And since he can not pay he is bankrupt. Ah, I see the plan. The duke
+      knew that he wouldn't be able to pay.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have hit it squarely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But Austria, having placed Leopold here, is his sponsor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Austria has too many debts of her own; she will have to disavow her
+      protege, which is a fact not unthought of by the house of Auersperg. By
+      constant machination and intrigue the king's revenues have been so
+      depleted that ordinary debts are troublesome. The archbishop, to stave off
+      the probable end, brought about the alliance between the houses of
+      Carnavia and Osia. My business here is to arrange for a ten years' renewal
+      of the loan, and that is what the duchess wishes to prevent, mon ami.
+      What's to become of the king and his daughter if aught in the way of
+      mishap should befall me? I have not seen the king, but I have seen her
+      Royal Highness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is she like?&rdquo; Maurice asked, innocently. He saw no reason why he
+      should confide to the Englishman his own adventure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm not much of a judge,&rdquo; said Fitzgerald cautiously. &ldquo;I have lived most
+      of my life in cantonments where women were old and ran mostly to tongue. I
+      should say that she is beautiful.&rdquo; A short sigh followed this admission.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said Maurice with a loud laugh to cover the sudden pang of jealousy
+      which seized him; &ldquo;in gratitude for saving her father's throne the
+      daughter will fall in love with you. It is what the dramatist calls
+      logical sequence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why don't you write novels? Your imagination has no bounds.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Writing novels is too much like work. But I'm serious. Your position in
+      the world to-day is nearly equal to hers, and certainly more secure. Ah,
+      yes; I must not forget that prince. He's a lucky dog&mdash;and so are you,
+      for that matter. Millions and titles! And I have slapped you cavalierly on
+      the back, smoked your cigars, drunk your whisky, and beaten you at poker!&rdquo;
+       comically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, Maurice, it is neither wealth nor titles; it is freedom. I am like a
+      boy out of school for good and all. Women, the society of women, who are
+      the salt of earth; that is what I want. I have knocked out thirteen years
+      of my life in furnace holes, and have not met nor spoken to a dozen young
+      women in all that time. How I envy you! You know every one; you have seen
+      the world; you are at home in Paris, or London, or Vienna; you have
+      enjoyed all I wish to enjoy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why did you ever get into the army?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You ought to know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it was bread and butter to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I was young; I saw fame and glory. If the matter under hand is
+      closed to-morrow, what do you say to the Carpathians and bears? I shall
+      not remain here; some one will be looking for blood. What do you say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know,&rdquo; said Maurice, thoughtfully. He was thinking of
+      Mademoiselle of the Veil and her prophecy of ravens. &ldquo;I don't know that I
+      shall be able. It is my opinion that your part in the affair is only a
+      curtain-raiser to graver things. Every one of importance in town goes
+      about with an air of expectancy. I never saw anything like it. It is the
+      king, the archbishop and the chancellor against two hundred thousand.
+      You're a soldier; can't you smell powder?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Powder! You do not believe the duchess mad enough to wage war?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Trust a woman to do what no one dreams she will.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But Austria would be about her ears in a minute!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe. Have you seen this Colonel Beauvais of the royal cuirassiers, the
+      actual head of the army here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A fine soldier,&rdquo; said the Englishman, heartily. &ldquo;Rides like a centaur and
+      wields a saber as if it were a piece of straw.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can hold a pretty good blade myself; I've an idea that I can lick him
+      at both games.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitzgerald laughed good-naturedly. &ldquo;There is the one flaw in your make-up.
+      I admit your horsemanship; but the saber! Believe me, it is only the
+      constant practice and a wrist of iron which make the saber formidable. You
+      are more familiar with the pen; I dare say you could best him at that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What makes you think I can not lick him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Since when have the saber and the civilian been on terms? And these
+      continental sabers are matchless, the finest in the world. I trust you
+      will steer clear of the Colonel; if you have any challenge in mind, spring
+      it on me, and I'll let you down easy.&rdquo; Then: &ldquo;Why the devil do you want to
+      lick him, anyway?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know,&rdquo; said Maurice. &ldquo;I had a close range to-night, and somehow
+      the man went against the grain. Well, Jack, I'll stay with you in this
+      affair, though, as the county judge at home would say, it's out of my
+      circuit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They shook hands across the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; said Fitzgerald; &ldquo;a toast, for I must be off.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you say to her Royal Highness?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let us make it general: to all women!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They set down the glasses and shook hands again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seemed good to run across you in Vienna, Maurice. You were one of the
+      bright spots in the old days.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you want me to walk with you to the Grand? It's a fine night,&rdquo; said
+      Maurice, waving his hand toward the moon. &ldquo;By George, what a beautiful
+      place this end of Bleiberg is! I do not wonder that the duchess covets
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I'll go alone. All I have to do is to march straight up the Strasse.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, good-night and good luck to you,&rdquo; said Maurice, as he led the
+      Englishman into the hallway. &ldquo;Look me up when you have settled the
+      business. I say, but it gets me; it's the strangest thing I ever heard.&rdquo;
+       And he waited till the soldierly form disappeared below the landing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then he went back to his chair on the balcony to think it over. At four
+      o'clock that afternoon he had grumbled of dullness. He lit a pipe, and
+      contemplated the soft and delicate blues of earth and heaven, the silvery
+      flashes on the lake, and the slim violet threads of smoke which wavered
+      about his head. It was late. Now and then the sound of a galloping horse
+      was borne up by the breeze, and presently Maurice heard the midnight bell
+      boom forth from the sleepy spires of the cathedral&mdash;where the
+      princess was to be married.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One by one the lamps of the park went out, but the moon shone on, lustrous
+      and splendid. First he reviewed his odd adventure in the archbishop's
+      gardens. He had spoken to princesses before, but they were women of the
+      world, hothouse roses that bloom and wither in a short space. The
+      atmosphere which surrounded this princess was idyllic, pastoral. She had
+      seen nothing of the world, its sports and pastimes, and the art of playing
+      at love was unknown to her. Again he could see her serious eyes, the
+      delicate chin and mouth, the oval cheeks, and the dog that followed in her
+      steps. Here was an indelible picture which time could never efface.
+      Something stirred in his heart, and he sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And ah, the woman in the veil! Who could she be? The more he thought of
+      her the more convinced he was that she stood high in the service of any
+      one but Leopold of Osia. And Fitzgerald! That sober old soldier concerned
+      with crowns and millions! It was incredible; it was almost laughable. They
+      had met up-country in India, and had hunted, and Maurice had saved the
+      Englishman's life. Occasionally they had corresponded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, to bed,&rdquo; said the young diplomat. &ldquo;This has been a full day.&rdquo; And,
+      like the true newspaper man he was, for all his diplomacy, he emptied the
+      bottle and entered the room. He was about to disrobe, when some one rapped
+      on the door. He opened it, and beheld a man in the livery of the Grand
+      Hotel. He was breathing hard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Herr Carewe?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. What's wanted?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Herr Hamilton&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hamilton? O, yes. Go on.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Herr Hamilton bade me to tell your Excellency that in returning to the
+      hotel he sprained his ankle, and wishes to know if Herr would not be so
+      kind as to spend the night with him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly. Run down to the office, and I shall be with you shortly.&rdquo;
+       Again alone, Maurice opened his trunk. He brought forth a pint flask of
+      brandy, some old handkerchiefs to be used as bandages, and a box of salve
+      he used for bruises when on hunting expeditions. In turning over his
+      clothes his hand came into contact with his old army revolver. He
+      scratched his head. &ldquo;No, it's too much like a cannon, and there's no room
+      for it in my pockets.&rdquo; He pushed it aside, rose and slammed the lid of the
+      trunk. &ldquo;Sprained his ankle? He wasn't gone more than an hour. How the
+      deuce is he to see the king to-morrow? Probably wishes to appoint me his
+      agent. That's it. Very well.&rdquo; He proceeded to the office, where he found
+      the messenger waiting for him. &ldquo;Come on, and put life into your steps.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Together they traversed the moonlit thoroughfare. Few persons were astir.
+      Once the night patrol clattered by. They passed through the markets, and
+      not far ahead they could see the university. It looked like a city prison.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is the hotel, Herr,&rdquo; said the messenger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They entered. Maurice approached the proprietor, who was pale and
+      flurried; but as Maurice had never seen the natural repose of his
+      countenance, he thought nothing of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My friend, Herr Hamilton, has met with an accident. Where is his room?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Number nine; Johann will show you.&rdquo; He acted as if he had something more
+      to say, but a glance from the round-faced porter silenced him. Maurice
+      lost much by not seeing this glance. He followed the messenger up the
+      stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There were no transoms. The corridor was devoid of illumination. The
+      porter struck a match and held it close to the panel of a door under which
+      a thread of light streamed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is it, Herr,&rdquo; he bawled, so loudly that Maurice started.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There was no need of waking the dead to tell me,&rdquo; he growled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The door opened, and before Maurice could brace himself&mdash;for the
+      interior of the room made all plain to him&mdash;he was violently pushed
+      over the threshold on to his knees. He was up in an instant. The room was
+      filled with soldiers, foot soldiers of the king, so it seemed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What the devil is this?&rdquo; he demanded, brushing his knees and cursing
+      himself because he had not brought his Colt when fate had put it almost in
+      his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a banquet, young man. We were waiting for the guest of honor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice turned to the speaker, and saw a medium-sized man with gray hair
+      and a frosty stubble of a mustache. He wore no insignia of office. Indeed,
+      as Maurice gazed from one man to the next he saw that there were no
+      officers; and it came to him that these were not soldiers of the king. He
+      was in a trap. He thought quickly. Fitzgerald was in trouble, perhaps on
+      his account. Where was he?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not see my friend who sprained his ankle,&rdquo; he said coolly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This declaration was greeted with laughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Evidently I have entered the wrong room,&rdquo; he continued imperturbably. He
+      stepped toward the door, but a burly individual placed his back to it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Am I a prisoner, or the victim of a practical joke?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Either way,&rdquo; said the man with the frosty mustache.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have recently formed a dangerous acquaintance, and we desire to aid
+      you in breaking it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you aware, gentlemen&mdash;no, I don't mean gentlemen&mdash;that I am
+      attached to the American legation in Vienna, and that my person is
+      inviolable?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Everybody laughed again&mdash;everybody but Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Allow me to correct you,&rdquo; put in the elderly man, who evidently was the
+      leader in the affair. &ldquo;You are not attached; you are detached. Gentlemen,
+      permit me, M. Carewe, detache of the American legation in Vienna, who
+      wishes he had stayed there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice saw a brace of revolvers on the mantel. The table stood between.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he said, banteringly, &ldquo;bring on your banquet; the hour is late.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's the way; don't lose your temper, and no harm will come to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you wish of me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Merely the pleasure of your company. Lieutenant, bring out the treasure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      One of the soldiers entered the next room and soon returned pushing
+      Fitzgerald before him. The Englishman was bound and gagged.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How will you have the pheasant served?&rdquo; asked the leader.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Like a gentleman!&rdquo; cried Maurice, letting out a little of his anger.
+      &ldquo;Take out the gag; he will not cry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The leader nodded, and Fitzgerald's mouth was relieved. He spat some blood
+      on the carpet, then looked at his captors, the devil in his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Proceed to kill me and have done,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kill you? No, no!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I advise you to, for if you do not kill me, some day I shall be free
+      again, and then God help some of you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice gazed at the candles on the table, and smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm sorry they dragged you into it, Maurice,&rdquo; said Fitzgerald.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm glad they did. What you want is company.&rdquo; There was a glance, swift
+      as light. It went to the mantel, then passed to the captive. &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said
+      Maurice, &ldquo;what is next on your damned program?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The other side of the frontier.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe,&rdquo; said Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With an unexpected movement he sent the table over, the lights went out;
+      and he had judged the distance so accurately that he felt his hands close
+      over the revolvers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The door! the door!&rdquo; a voice bawled. &ldquo;Knock down any one who attempts to
+      pass.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This was precisely what Maurice desired. With the soldiers massed about
+      the door, he would be free to liberate Fitzgerald; which he did. He had
+      scarcely completed the task, when a flame spurted up. The leader
+      fearlessly lit a candle and righted the table. He saw both his prisoners,
+      one of them with extended arms, at the ends of which glistened revolver
+      barrels.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The devil!&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe it is,&rdquo; replied Maurice. &ldquo;Now, my gay banqueteers, open the door;
+      and the first man who makes a suspicious movement will find that I'm a
+      tolerable shot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Seize him, your Excellency!&rdquo; shouted one of the troopers. &ldquo;Those are my
+      revolvers he has, and they are not loaded.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VIII. THE RED CHATEAU
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Two o'clock in the morning, on the king's highway, and a small body of
+      horse making progress. The moon was beginning to roll away toward the
+      west, but the world was still frost-white, and the broad road stretched
+      out like a silver ribbon before the horsemen, until it was lost in the
+      blue mist of the forests.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The troop consisted of ten men, two of whom rode with their hands tied
+      behind their backs and their feet fastened under the bellies of the
+      horses. The troop was not conspicuous for this alone. Three others had
+      their heads done up in handkerchiefs, and a fourth carried his arm in a
+      sling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Five miles to the rear lay the sleeping city of Bleiberg, twenty miles
+      beyond rose the formidable heights of the Thalians. At times the horses
+      went forward at a gallop, but more often they walked; when they galloped
+      the man with his arm in the sling complained. Whenever the horses dropped
+      into a walk, the leader talked to one of the prisoners.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You fight like the very devil, my friend,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;but we were too many
+      by six. Mind, I think none the less of you for your attempt; freedom is
+      always worth fighting for. As I said before, no harm is meant to you,
+      physically; as to the moral side, that doesn't concern me. You have
+      disabled four of my men, and have scarcely a dozen scratches to show for
+      it. I wanted to take only four men with me; I was ordered to take eight.
+      The hand of providence is in it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You wouldn't be so polite, Colonel,&rdquo; spoke up the trooper whose arm was
+      in the sling, &ldquo;if you had got this crack.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Baron, who told you to call me Colonel?&rdquo; the leader demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, we are out of the city; there's no harm now that I can see.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it possible,&rdquo; said Maurice ironically, &ldquo;that I have had the honor of
+      hitting a baron on the head and breaking his arm?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The baron muttered a curse and fell back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you,&rdquo; went on Maurice, addressing the leader, &ldquo;are a Colonel?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For the duchess?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For the duchess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A black business for you, Colonel; take my word for it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A black business it is; but orders are orders. Have you ever been a
+      soldier?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, there's nothing more to be said.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;America&mdash;&rdquo; Maurice began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is several thousand miles away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not if you reckon from Vienna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd rather not reckon, if it's all the same to you. Your friend&mdash;I
+      might say, your very valuable friend&mdash;takes the matter too much to
+      heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's not a talkative man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitzgerald looked straight ahead, stern and impassive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But now that we are talking,&rdquo; said Maurice, &ldquo;I should like to know how
+      the deuce you got hold of my name and dragged me into this affair?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Simple enough. A card of yours was given to me; on it was your name and
+      address. The rest was easy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice grew limp in the saddle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By George! I had forgotten! The woman is at the bottom of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite likely. I thought you'd come to that conclusion. Sometimes when we
+      play with foxes they lead us into bear traps. Young man, witness these
+      gray hairs; never speak to strange women, especially when they wear
+      veils.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitzgerald was now attending the conversation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And who is this woman?&rdquo; asked Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mademoiselle of the Veil, according to your picturesque imagination; to
+      me she is the intimate friend and adviser of her Highness Stephonia.&rdquo; He
+      wheeled to the troopers with a laugh: &ldquo;Hoch, you beggars, hoch!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice indulged in some uncomplimentary remarks, among which was: &ldquo;I'm an
+      ass!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Every man improves on making that discovery; the Darwinian theory is
+      wrong.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      After a pause Maurice said: &ldquo;How did you get on the ground so quickly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We arrived yesterday afternoon as the escort of your charmer. A pretty
+      woman finds it troublesome to travel alone in these parts. When you
+      slapped your friend on the back and bawled out his name&mdash;a name known
+      from one end of the kingdom to the other&mdash;the plan of action was
+      immediately formed. You were necessary, for it was taken for granted that
+      you knew too much. You had also promised your sword,&rdquo; with a chuckle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I made no promise,&rdquo; said Maurice. &ldquo;I only said that I should easily be
+      found when wanted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, so you were; there's no gainsaying that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice said some more uncomplimentary things.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was neatly done, you will admit. Life is a game of cards; he wins who
+      plays first.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Or he doesn't. Colonel, a game is won only when it is played'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's true enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kings are a tolerable bother on earth,&rdquo; Maurice declared, trying to ease
+      his wrists by holding them higher against his back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you know about them?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When I was in the army I often fell in with three or four of a night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh?&mdash;kings?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; but usually I was up against aces or straight flushes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cards! Well, well; when you get down to the truth of the matter, real
+      kings differ but little from the kings in pasteboard; right side up, or
+      wrong side up, they serve the purpose of those who play them. There's a
+      poor, harmless devil back there,&rdquo; with a nod toward Bleiberg. &ldquo;He never
+      injured a soul. Perhaps that's it; had he been cruel, avaricious, sly, all
+      of them would be cringing at his feet. Devil take me&mdash;but I'm a
+      soldier,&rdquo; he broke off abruptly; &ldquo;it's none of my business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you any titles?&rdquo; Maurice asked presently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Titles?&rdquo; The Colonel jerked around on his horse. &ldquo;Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O,&rdquo; said Maurice carelessly, &ldquo;I thought it not unlikely that you might
+      have a few lying around loose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Colonel roared. &ldquo;You Americans beat the very devil with your
+      questions. Well, I am politely known as Count Mollendorf, if that will
+      gratify you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What! brother of Mollendorf of the king's police?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God save the mark! No; I am an honest man&mdash;some of the time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice laughed; the old fellow was amusing, and besides, this
+      conversation helped to pass away the time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wake up, Jack; here's entertainment,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A scowl added itself to the stern expression on Fitzgerald's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I trust that none of your teeth are loose,&rdquo; ventured the Colonel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If they are, they'll be tight enough ere many days have passed,&rdquo; was the
+      threatening reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Beware the dog!&rdquo; cried the Colonel, and he resumed his place at the head
+      of the little troop.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice took this opportunity to bend toward Fitzgerald. &ldquo;Have you
+      anything of importance about you?&rdquo; he whispered significantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing. But God send that no chambermaid change the sheet in my bed at
+      the hotel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are they&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Silence.&rdquo; Fitzgerald saw the trooper next with his hand to his ear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After a time the Colonel sang out: &ldquo;Fifteen miles more, with three on the
+      other side, men; we must put more life into us. A trot for a few miles.
+      The quicker the ride is done, baron, the quicker the surgeon will look to
+      your arm.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And silence fell upon the troop. Occasionally a stray horse in the fields
+      whinneyed, and was answered from the road; sometimes the howl of a dog
+      broke the monotony. On and on they rode; hour and mile were left behind
+      them. The moon fell lower and lower, and the mountains rose higher and
+      higher, and the wind which had risen had a frosty sting to it. Maurice now
+      began to show the true state of his temper by cursing his horse whenever
+      it rubbed against one of its fellows. His back was lame, and there was a
+      dull pain in one of his shoulders. When he had made the rush for the door,
+      clubbing right and left with the empty revolvers, he had finally been
+      thrown on an overturned chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here, hang you!&rdquo; he said to the trooper who held the bridle of his horse,
+      &ldquo;I'm cold; you might at least turn up my collar about my throat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are welcome to my cloak,&rdquo; said the trooper, disengaging that article
+      from his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; said Maurice, somewhat abashed by the respectful tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The trooper offered his blanket to Fitzgerald.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish no favors,&rdquo; said the Englishman, thanklessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The trooper shrugged, and caught up Maurice's bridle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At length the troop arrived at the frontier. There was no sign of life at
+      the barrack. They passed unchallenged.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&rdquo; exclaimed Maurice, &ldquo;do they sleep here at night, then? A fine
+      frontier barrack.&rdquo; He had lived in hopes of more disturbance and a
+      possible chance for liberty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They will wake up to-day,&rdquo; answered the Colonel; &ldquo;that is, if the wine we
+      gave them was not too strong. Poor devils; they must be good and cold by
+      this time, since we have their clothes. What do you think of a king whose
+      soldiers drink with any strangers who chance along?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice became resigned. To him the present dynasty was as fragile as
+      glass, and it needed but one strong blow to shatter it into atoms. And the
+      one hope rode at his side, sullen and wrathful, but impotent; the one hope
+      the king had to save his throne. He had come to Bleiberg in search of
+      excitement, but this was altogether more than he had bargained for.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The horses began to lift and were soon winding in and out of the narrow
+      mountain pass. The chill of the overhanging snows fell upon them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It wouldn't have hurt you to accept the blanket,&rdquo; said Maurice to
+      Fitzgerald.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Curse it! I want nothing but two minutes freedom. It would be warm enough
+      then.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No confidences, gentlemen,&rdquo; warned the Colonel; &ldquo;I understand English
+      tolerably well.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go to the devil, then, if you do!&rdquo; said Fitzgerald discourteously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When the time comes,&rdquo; tranquilly. &ldquo;Of the two I like your friend the
+      better. To be resigned to the inevitable is a sign of good mental
+      balance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not used to words,&rdquo; replied the Englishman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are used to orders. I am simply obeying mine. If I took you off your
+      guard it was because I had to, and not because I liked that method best.
+      Look alive, men; it's down hill from now on.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A quarter of an hour later the troop arrived at the duchy's frontier post.
+      There was no sleep here. The Colonel flung himself from his horse and
+      exercised his legs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sergeant,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;how far behind the others?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They passed two hours ago, Excellency. And all is well?&rdquo; deferentially.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All is indeed well,&rdquo; with a gesture toward the prisoners.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've a flask of brandy in my hip pocket,&rdquo; said Maurice. &ldquo;Will you help me
+      to a nip, Colonel?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me, gentlemen; I had forgotten that your hands were still in
+      cords. Corporal,&rdquo; to a trooper, &ldquo;relieve their hands.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The prisoners rubbed their wrists and hands, which were numb and cold.
+      Maurice produced his flask.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was bringing it along for your sprained ankle,&rdquo; he said, as he extended
+      the flask to Fitzgerald, who drank a third of it. &ldquo;I'd offer you some,
+      Colonel, only it would be like heaping coals of fire on your head; and,
+      besides, I want it all myself.&rdquo; He returned the emptied flask to his
+      pocket, feeling a moderate warmth inside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Drink away, my son,&rdquo; said the Colonel, climbing into the saddle;
+      &ldquo;there'll be plenty for me for this night's work. Forward!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The troop took up the march again, through a splendid forest kept clear of
+      dead wood by the peasants. It abounded with game. The shrill cry of the
+      pheasants, the rustle of the partridges in the underbrush, the bark of the
+      fox, all rose to the ears of the trespassers. The smell of warm earth
+      permeated the air, and the sky was merging from silver into gold.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Napoleon humiliated Austria for the second time, one of his mushroom
+      nobles, who placed too much faith in the man of destiny, selected this
+      wooded paradise as a residence. He built him a fine castle of red brick,
+      full of wide halls and drawing rooms and chambers of state, and filled it
+      with fabulous paintings, Gobelin tapestries, and black walnut wainscot. He
+      kept a small garrison of French soldiers by converting the huge stables
+      partly into a barrack. One night the peasantry rose. There was a conflict,
+      as the walls still show; and the prince by patent fled, no one knew where.
+      After its baptism in blood it became known far and wide as the Red
+      Chateau. Whenever children were unruly, they were made docile by threats
+      of the dark dungeons of the Red Chateau, or the ghosts of the French and
+      German peasants who died there. As it now stood, it was one of the summer
+      residences of her Highness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was here that the long night's journey came to an end.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gentlemen,&rdquo; said the Colonel, dismounting, &ldquo;permit me, in the name of her
+      Highness, to offer you the hospitality of Red Chateau. Consider; will you
+      lighten my task by giving me your word of honor to make no attempt to
+      escape? Escape is possible, but not probable. There are twenty fresh men
+      and horses in the stables. Come, be reasonable. It will be pleasanter on
+      both sides.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So far as I'm concerned,&rdquo; said Maurice, who needed liberty not half so
+      much as sleep, &ldquo;I pass my word.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you, sir?&rdquo; to Fitzgerald.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitzgerald gazed about him. &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; he said, as he saw the futility
+      of a struggle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your humble servant, Messieurs,&rdquo; touching his cap. &ldquo;Take the ropes off
+      their ankles, men.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When Maurice was lifted from his horse and placed on the ground, his legs
+      suddenly bent under him, and he went sprawling to the grass. A trooper
+      sprang to his assistance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My legs have gone to sleep!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Englishman was affected likewise, and it was some moments before
+      either could walk. They were conducted to a chamber high up in the left
+      wing, which overlooked the forest and the mountains. It was a large airy
+      room, but the windows were barred and there were double locks on the
+      doors. The Colonel followed them into the room and pointed to the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Breakfast, Messieurs, and a good sleep for you till this noon. As for the
+      rest, let that take care of itself.&rdquo; And he left them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice, after having tried all the bars and locks in answer to his
+      conscience, gave his attention to the breakfast. On lifting the covers he
+      found fish, eggs, toast and coffee.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here's luck!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;We were expected.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Curse it, Maurice!&rdquo; Fitzgerald began pacing the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; said Maurice; &ldquo;let us eat it; that's what it's here for,&rdquo; and he
+      fell to with that vigor known only to healthy blood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what's to be done?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Follow Solomon's advice, and wait.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're taking it cursed cool.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Force of habit,&rdquo; breaking the toast. &ldquo;What's the use of wasting powder?
+      Because I have shown only the exterior, our friend the Colonel has already
+      formed an opinion of me. I am brave if need be, but young and careless. In
+      a day or so&mdash;for I suppose we are not to be liberated at once&mdash;he'll
+      forget to use proper caution in respect to me. And then, 'who can say?' as
+      the Portuguese says when he hasn't anything else to say. They'll keep a
+      strict watch over you, my friend, because you've played the lion too much.
+      Just before I left the States, as you call them, a new slang phrase was
+      going the rounds;&mdash;'it is better to play the fox some of the time
+      than to roar all of the time.' Ergo, be foxy. Take it cool. So long as you
+      haven't got that mint packed about your person, the game breaks even.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But the king!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is as secure on his throne as he ever was. If you do not present those
+      consols, either for renewal or collection, on the twentieth, he loses
+      nothing. As you said, let us hope that the chambermaid is a shifty,
+      careless lass, who will not touch your room till you return.&rdquo; Maurice
+      broke an egg and dropped a lump of sugar into his cup.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is this the way you fight Indians?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indians? What the deuce has fighting Indians to do with this? As to
+      Indians, shoot them in the back if you can. Here, everything depends not
+      on fighting but the right use of words. A man may be a diplomat and not
+      render his country any large benefit; still, it's a fine individual
+      training. Thrones stand on precipices and are pushed back to safety by the
+      trick of a few words. Have an egg; they're fresh.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitzgerald sat down and gulped his coffee. &ldquo;They broke my monocle in the
+      struggle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice choked in his cup.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've worn it twelve years, too,&rdquo; went on Fitzgerald.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Everything is for the best,&rdquo; said Maurice. &ldquo;You will be able to see out
+      of both eyes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Confound you!&rdquo; cried Fitzgerald, smiling in spite of himself; &ldquo;nothing
+      will disturb you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean, nothing shall. Now, there's the bed and there's the lounge.
+      Since you are the principal, that is to say, the constituent part of this
+      affair, and also the principal actor in this extravaganza, suppose you
+      take the bed and leave me the lounge? And the deuce take the duchess, who
+      is probably a woman with a high forehead and a pair of narrow eyes!&rdquo; He
+      threw down his napkin and made for the lounge, without giving any
+      particular attention to the smile and frown which were struggling in the
+      Englishman's eyes. In less than a minute Maurice was dozing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitzgerald thought that the best thing he could do was to follow the
+      philosophical example of his friend. &ldquo;These Americans,&rdquo; he mused, as he
+      arranged the pillow under his ear, &ldquo;are `fifteen puzzles'; you can move
+      them, or you can't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As for Maurice, he was already dreaming; he was too tired to sleep.
+      Presently he thought he was on a horse again, and was galloping,
+      galloping. He was heading his old company to the very fringe of the
+      alkali. The Apaches had robbed the pay train and killed six men, and the
+      very deuce was to pay all around.... Again he was swimming, and a
+      beautiful girl reached out a hand and saved him. Ah! how beautiful she
+      was, how soft and rich the deep brown of her eyes!... The scene shifted.
+      The president of the South American republic had accepted his sword
+      (unbeknown to the United States authorities), and he was aiding to quell
+      the insurrection. And just then some one whispered to him that gold would
+      rise fifty points. And as he put out his hands to gather in the glittering
+      coins which were raining down, the face of Colonel Beauvais loomed up,
+      scowling and furious.... And yet again came the beautiful girl. He was
+      holding her hand and the archbishop had his spread out in benediction over
+      their heads.... A hand, which was not of dreamland, shook him by the arm.
+      He opened his eyes. Fitzgerald was standing over him. The light of the sun
+      spangled the walls opposite the windows. The clock marked the eleventh
+      hour of day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hang you!&rdquo; he said, with blinking eyes; &ldquo;why didn't you let me be? I was
+      just marrying the princess, and you've spoiled it all. I&mdash;&rdquo; He jumped
+      to his feet and rubbed his eyes, and, forgetful of all save his
+      astonishment, pursed his lips into a low whistle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IX. NOTHING MORE SERIOUS THAN A HOUSE PARTY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Standing just within the door, smiling and rubbing the gray bristles on
+      his lip, was the Colonel. In the center of the room stood a woman dressed
+      in gray. Maurice recognized the dress; it belonged to Mademoiselle of the
+      Veil, who was now sans veil, sans hat. A marvelous face was revealed to
+      Maurice, a face of that peculiar beauty which poets and artists are often
+      minded to deny, but for the love of which men die, become great or
+      terrible, overturn empires and change the map of the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her luxuriant hair, which lay in careless masses about the shapely head
+      and intelligent brow, was a mixture of red and brown and gold, a variety
+      which never ceases to charm; skin the pallor of ancient marble, with the
+      shadow of rose lying below the eyes, the large, gray chatoyant eyes, which
+      answered every impulse of the brain which ruled them. The irregularity of
+      her features was never noticeable after a glance into those eyes. At this
+      moment both eyes and lips expressed a shade of amusement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice, who was astonished never more than a minute at a time,
+      immediately recovered. His toilet was somewhat disarranged, and the back
+      of his head a crow's nest, but, nevertheless, he placed a hand over his
+      heart and offered a low obeisance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good morning, gentlemen,&rdquo; she said, in a voice which Maurice would have
+      known anywhere. &ldquo;I hope the journey has caused you no particular
+      annoyance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The annoyance was not so particular, Madame,&rdquo; said Fitzgerald stiffly,
+      &ldquo;as it was general.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And four of my troopers will take oath to that!&rdquo; interjected the Colonel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will Madame permit me to ask when will the opera begin?&rdquo; asked Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am glad,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;that you have lost none of your freshness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice was struck for a moment, but soon saw that the remark was innocent
+      of any inelegance of speech. Fitzgerald was gnawing his mustache and
+      looking out of the corner of his eyes&mdash;into hers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My task, I confess, is a most disagreeable one,&rdquo; she resumed, lightly
+      beating her gauntlets together; &ldquo;but when one serves high personages one
+      is supposed not to have any sentiments.&rdquo; To Fitzgerald she said: &ldquo;You are
+      the son of the late Lord Fitzgerald.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For your sake, I regret to say that I am.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For my sake? Worry yourself none on that point. As the agent of her
+      Highness I am inconsiderable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame,&rdquo; said Maurice, &ldquo;will you do us the honor to inform us to whom we
+      are indebted for this partiality to our distinguished persons?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am Sylvia Amerbach,&rdquo; quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Amerbach?&rdquo; said Maurice, who was familiar with the great names of the
+      continent. &ldquo;Pardon me, but that was once a famous name in Prussia.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am distantly related to that house of princes,&rdquo; looking at her
+      gauntlets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Madame, since your business doubtless concerns me, pray, begin;&rdquo;
+       and Fitzgerald leaned against the mantelpiece and fumbled with the rim of
+      his monocle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice walked to one of the windows and perched himself on the broad
+      sill. He began to whistle softly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Voici le sabre de mon pere! Tu vas le mettre a ton cote....
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Beyond the window, at the edge of the forest, he saw a sentinel pacing
+      backward and forward. Indeed, no matter which way he looked, the autumnal
+      scenery had this accessory. Again, he inspected the bars. These were
+      comparatively new. It was about thirty feet to the court below. On the
+      whole, the outlook was discouraging.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Count,&rdquo; said the distant relative of the house of Amerbach, &ldquo;how shall I
+      begin?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not a diplomat, Madame,&rdquo; answered the Colonel. &ldquo;If, however, you
+      wish the advice of a soldier, I should begin by asking if my lord the
+      Englishman has those consols about his person.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fie, count!&rdquo; she cried, laughing; &ldquo;one would say that was a prelude to
+      robbery.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So they would. As for myself, I prefer violence to words. If we take
+      these pretty papers by violence, we shall still have left our friend the
+      Englishman his self-respect. And as for words, while my acquaintance with
+      our friend is slight, I should say that they would only be wasted here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The whistle from the window still rose and fell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur, I have it in my power to make you rich.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am rich,&rdquo; replied Fitzgerald.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In honors?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, the title I have is already a burden to me.&rdquo; Fitzgerald laughed,
+      which announced that the cause of the duchess was not getting on very
+      well. Once or twice he raised the tortoiseshell rim to his eye, but
+      dropped it; force of habit was difficult to overcome.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your father nourished a particular rancor against the late duke.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And justly, you will admit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Her Highness has offered you five millions for slips of paper worth no
+      more than the ink which decorates them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I have refused. Why? Simply because the matter does not rest with me.
+      You have proceeded with a high hand, Madame, or rather your duchess has.
+      Nothing will come of it. Had there been any possibility of my considering
+      your proposals, this kidnaping would have destroyed it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She smiled. Maurice saw the smile and stopped whistling long enough to
+      scratch his chin, which was somewhat in need of a razor. He had seen many
+      women smile that way. He had learned to read it. It was an inarticulate
+      &ldquo;perhaps.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The rightful successor to the throne&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is Madame the duchess,&rdquo; Fitzgerald completed. &ldquo;I haven't the slightest
+      doubt of that. One way or the other, it does not concern me. I came here
+      simply to fulfill the wishes of my father; and my word, Madame, fulfill
+      them I shall. You are holding me a prisoner, but uselessly. On the
+      twentieth the certificates fall due against the government. If they are
+      not presented either for renewal or collection, the bankruptcy scheme of
+      your duchess will fall through just the same. I will tell you the truth,
+      Madame. My father never expected to collect the moneys so long as Leopold
+      sat on the throne.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The whistle grew shrill.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This officer here,&rdquo; continued Fitzgerald, while the Colonel made a
+      comical grimace, &ldquo;suggests violence. I shall save him the trouble. I have
+      seen much of the world, Madame&mdash;the hard side of it&mdash;and,
+      knowing it as I do, it is scarcely probable that I should carry about my
+      person the equivalent of four millions of crowns.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Madame,&rdquo; said the Colonel, pushing his belt closer about his hips,
+      as a soldier always does when he is on the point of departure, &ldquo;what he
+      says is true, every word of it. I see nothing more to do at present.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mademoiselle of the Veil was paying not so much attention to the Colonel's
+      words as she was to Maurice's whistle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; she said, coldly, &ldquo;have you no other tune in your repertory?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me!&rdquo; exclaimed Maurice. &ldquo;I did not intend to annoy you.&rdquo; He
+      stepped down out of the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You do not annoy me; only the tune grows rather monotonous.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will whistle anything you may suggest,&rdquo; he volunteered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She did not respond to this flippancy, though the pupils of her gray eyes
+      grew large with anger. She walked the length of the room and back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Count, what do you think would be most satisfactory to her Highness,
+      under the circumstances?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have yet to hear of her Highness' disapproval of anything you
+      undertake.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Messieurs, your parole d'honneur, and the freedom of the chateau is yours&mdash;within
+      the sentry lines. I wish to make your recollections of the Red Chateau
+      rather pleasant than otherwise. I shall be most happy if you will honor my
+      table with your presence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Colonel coughed, Maurice smoothed the back of his head, and Fitzgerald
+      caught up his monocle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My word, Madame,&rdquo; said Maurice, &ldquo;is not worth much, being that of a
+      diplomat, but such as it is it is yours. However, my clothes are scarcely
+      presentable,&rdquo; which was true enough. Several buttons were missing, and the
+      collar hung by a thread.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That can be easily remedied,&rdquo; said she. &ldquo;There are several new hussar
+      uniforms in the armory.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O, Madame, and you will permit me to wear one of those gay uniforms of
+      light blue and silver lace?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Colonel looked thoughtfully at Maurice. He was too much a banterer
+      himself to miss the undercurrent of raillery. He eyed Madame discreetly;
+      he saw that she had accepted merely the surface tones.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you will wear one, too, Jack?&rdquo; said Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, thank you. I pass my word, Madame; I do not like confinement.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, the count will shortly return and establish you in better
+      quarters. Let us suppose you are my guests for a&mdash;a fortnight. Since
+      both of us are right, since neither your cause nor mine is wrong, an
+      armistice! Ah! I forgot. The east corridor on the third floor is forbidden
+      you. Should you mistake and go that way, a guard will direct you properly.
+      Messieurs, till dinner!&rdquo; and with a smile which illumined her face as a
+      sudden burst of sunshine flashes across a hillside, she passed out of the
+      room, followed by her henchman, who had not yet put aside the thoughtful
+      repose of his countenance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A house party,&rdquo; said Maurice, when he could no longer hear their
+      footsteps. &ldquo;And what the deuce have they got so valuable in the east
+      corridor on the third floor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's small matter to me,&rdquo; said Fitzgerald tranquilly. &ldquo;The main fact is
+      that she has given up her game.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Said Maurice, his face expressing both pity and astonishment: &ldquo;My dear,
+      dear John! Didn't you see that woman's eyes, her hair, her chin, her
+      nose?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;True; you haven't had any experience with petticoats. This woman will
+      rend heaven and earth rather than relinquish her projects, or rather those
+      of her mistress. I should like to see this duchess, who shows a fine
+      discernment in the selection of her assistants. Beware of the woman who is
+      frankly your enemy. If she is frank, it is because she is confident of the
+      end; if not, she is frank in order to disarm us of the suspicion of
+      cunning. I would give much to know the true meaning of this house party.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hang me if I can see what difference it makes. She can not do anything
+      either by frankness or by cunning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She gathered us in neatly, this red-haired Amazon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Red-haired!&rdquo; in a kind of protest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes; that's the color, isn't it?&rdquo; innocently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought it a red-brown. It's too bad that such a woman should be mixed
+      up in an affair like this.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Woman will sacrifice to ambition what she never will sacrifice to love.
+      Hush; I hear the Colonel returning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They were conducted to the opposite wing of the chateau, to a room on the
+      second floor. Its windows afforded an excellent view of the land which lay
+      south. Hills rolled away like waves of gold, dotted here and there with
+      vineyards. Through the avenue of trees they could see the highway, and
+      beyond, the river, which had its source in the mountains ten miles
+      eastward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The room itself was in red, evidently a state chamber, for it contained
+      two canopied beds. Several fine paintings hung from the walls, and between
+      the two windows rose one of those pier glasses which owe their existence
+      to the first empire of France. On one of the beds Maurice saw the hussar
+      uniform. On the dresser were razors and mugs and a pitcher of hot water.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; he said, with satisfaction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The boots may not fit you,&rdquo; said the Colonel, &ldquo;but if they do not we will
+      manage some way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall not mind the fortnight,&rdquo; said Maurice. &ldquo;By the way, Colonel, I
+      notice that French seems to prevail instead of German. Why is that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is the common language of politeness, and servants do not understand
+      it. As for myself, I naturally prefer the German tongue; it is blunt and
+      honest and lacks the finesse of the French, which is full of evasive words
+      and meanings. However, French predominates at court. Besides, heaven help
+      the foreigner who tries to learn all the German tongues to be found in the
+      empires of the Hohenzollern and Hapsburg. Luncheon will be served to you
+      in the dining hall; the first door to the right at the foot of the grand
+      staircase. I shall send you a trooper to act as valet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Spare me, Colonel,&rdquo; said Maurice, who did not want any one between him
+      and the Englishman when they were alone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have never had a valet,&rdquo; said Fitzgerald; &ldquo;he would embarrass me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As you please,&rdquo; said the Colonel, a shade of disappointment in his tones.
+      &ldquo;After all, you are soldiers, where every man is for himself. Make
+      yourselves at home;&rdquo; and he withdrew.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice at once applied lather and razor, and put on the handsome uniform,
+      which fitted him snugly. The coat was tailless, with rows of silver
+      buttons running from collar to waist. The breast and shoulders and sleeves
+      were covered with silver lace, and Maurice concluded that it must be
+      nothing less than a captain's uniform. The trousers were tight fitting,
+      with broad stripes of silver; and the half boots were of patent leather.
+      He walked backward and forward before the pier-glass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I say, Fitz, what do you think of it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're a handsome rascal, Maurice,&rdquo; answered the Englishman, who had
+      watched his young friend, amusement in his sober eyes. &ldquo;Happily, there are
+      no young women present.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go to! I'll lay odds that our hostess is under twenty-five.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I meant young women of sixteen or seventeen. Women such as Madame have
+      long since passed the uniform fever.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not when it has lace, my friend, court lace. Well, forward to the dining
+      hall.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Both were rather disappointed to find that Madame would be absent until
+      dinner. Fitzgerald could not tell exactly why he was disappointed, and he
+      was angry with himself for the vague regret. Maurice, however, found
+      consolation in the demure French maid who served them. Every time he
+      smiled she made a courtesy, and every time she left the room Maurice
+      nudged Fitzgerald.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Smile, confound you, smile!&rdquo; he whispered. &ldquo;There's never a maid but has
+      her store of gossip, and gossip is information.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pshaw!&rdquo; said Fitzgerald, helping himself to cold ham and chicken.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wine, Messieurs?&rdquo; asked the maid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, then Madame offers the cellars?&rdquo; said Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Messieurs. There is chambertin, champagne, chablis, tokayer and
+      sherry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bring us some chambertin, then.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oui, Messieurs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hurry along, my Hebe,&rdquo; said Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The maid was not on familiar terms with the classics, but she told the
+      butler in the pantry that the smooth-faced one made a charming Captain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Keep your eyes open,&rdquo; grumbled the butler; &ldquo;he'll be kissing you next.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He might do worse,&rdquo; was the retort. Even maids have their mirrors, and
+      hers told a pretty story. When she returned with the wine she asked: &ldquo;And
+      shall I pour it, Messieurs?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No one else shall,&rdquo; declared Maurice. &ldquo;When is the duchess to arrive?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not know, Monsieur,&rdquo; stepping in between the chairs and filling the
+      glasses with the ruby liquid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is Madame Sylvia Amerbach?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame Sylvia Amerbach,&rdquo; placing the bottle on the table and going to the
+      sideboard. She returned with a box of &ldquo;Khedives.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitzgerald laughed at Maurice's disconcertion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where has Madame gone?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the summer home of Countess Herzberg, who is to return with Madame.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oho!&rdquo; cried Maurice, in English. &ldquo;A countess! What do you say to that, my
+      Englishman?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is probably old and plain. Madame desires a chaperon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You forget that Madame desires nothing but those certificates. And the
+      chaperon does not live who could keep an eye on Madame Sylvia Amerbach.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The mention of the certificates brought back all the Englishman's
+      discomfort, and he emptied his glass of wine not as a lover of good wine
+      should. Soon they rose from the table. The maid ran to the door and held
+      it open. Fitzgerald hurried through, but Maurice lingered a moment. He put
+      his hand under the porcelain chin and looked into the china-blue eyes.
+      Fitzgerald turned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What was that noise?&rdquo; he asked, as Maurice shouldered him along the hall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What noise?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame came back to the chateau at five, and dinner was announced at
+      eight. The Countess Herzberg was young and pretty, the possessor of a
+      beautiful mouth and a charming smile. The Colonel did the honors at the
+      table. Maurice almost fancied himself in Vienna, the setting of the dining
+      room was so perfect. The entire room was paneled in walnut. On the mantel
+      over the great fireplace stood silver candlesticks with wax tapers. The
+      candlestick in the center of the table was composed of twelve branches.
+      The cuisine was delectable, the wines delicious. Madame and the countess
+      were in evening dress. The Colonel was brimming with anecdote, the
+      countess was witty, Madame was a sister to Aspasia.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice, while he enjoyed this strange feast, was puzzled. It was very
+      irregular, and the Colonel's gray hairs did not serve to alter this fact.
+      What was the meaning of it? What lay underneath?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sometimes he caught Fitzgerald in the act of staring at Madame when her
+      attention was otherwise engaged; at other times he saw that Madame was
+      returning this cursory investigation. There was, however, altogether a
+      different meaning in these surreptitious glances. In the one there were
+      interest, doubt, admiration; in the other, cold calculation. At no time
+      did the conversation touch politics, and the crown was a thousand miles
+      away&mdash;if surface indications went for aught.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Finally the Colonel rose. &ldquo;A toast&mdash;to Madame the duchess, since this
+      is her very best wine!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice emptied his glass fast enough; but Fitzgerald lowered his eyes and
+      made no movement to raise his glass. The pupils in Madame's eyes grew
+      small.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is scarcely polite, Monsieur,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame,&rdquo; he replied gently, &ldquo;my parole did not include toasts to her
+      Highness. My friend loves wine for its own sake, and seldom bothers his
+      head about the toast as long as the wine is good. Permit me to withdraw
+      the duchess and substitute yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do so, if it will please you. In truth, it was bad taste in you, count,
+      to suggest it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's all the same to me;&rdquo; and the Colonel refilled his glass and nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The countess smiled behind her fan, while Maurice felt the edge of the
+      mild reproach which had been administered to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I plead guilty to the impeachment. It was very wrong. Far from it that I
+      should drink to the health of the Philistines. Madame the countess was
+      beating me down with her eyes, and I did not think.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was not even looking at you!&rdquo; declared the countess, blushing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The incident was soon forgotten; and at length Madame and the countess
+      rose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Said the first: &ldquo;We will leave you gentlemen to your cigars; and when they
+      have ceased to interest you, you will find us in the music room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you will sing?&rdquo; said Maurice to the countess.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you wish.&rdquo; She was almost beautiful when she smiled, and she smiled on
+      Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I confess,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;that being a prisoner, under certain circumstances,
+      is a fine life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What wicked eyes he has,&rdquo; said the countess, as she and Madame entered
+      the music room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not look into them too often, my dear,&rdquo; was the rejoinder. &ldquo;I have
+      asked not other sacrifice than that you should occupy his attention and
+      make him fall in love with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, Madame, that will be easy enough. But what is to prevent me from
+      falling in love with him? He is very handsome.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are laughing!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I am laughing. It will be such an amusing adventure, a souvenir for
+      my old age&mdash;and may my old age forget me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The men lit their cigars and smoked in silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Colonel,&rdquo; said Maurice at last, &ldquo;will you kindly tell me what all this
+      means?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never ask your host how old his wine is. If he is proud of it, he will
+      tell you.&rdquo; He blew the smoke under the candle shades and watched it as it
+      darted upward. &ldquo;Don't you find it comfortable? I should.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Conscience will not lie down at one's bidding.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understood that you were a diplomat?&rdquo; The Colonel turned to Fitzgerald.
+      &ldquo;I hope that, when you are liberated, you will forget the manner in which
+      you were brought here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall forget nothing,&rdquo; curtly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The devil! I can not fight you; I am too old.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitzgerald said nothing, and continued to play with his emptied
+      wine-glass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Princess Alexia,&rdquo; went on the Colonel, &ldquo;has a bulldog. I have always
+      wondered till now what the nationality of the dog was. The bulldog neither
+      forsakes nor forgives; he is an Englishman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This declaration was succeeded by another interval of silence. The
+      Englishman was thinking of his father; the thoughts of Maurice were
+      anywhere but at the chateau; the Colonel was contemplating them both,
+      shrewdly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, to the ladies, gentlemen; it is half after nine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The countess was seated at the piano, improvising. Madame stood before the
+      fireplace, arranging the pieces on a chess board. In the center of the
+      room was a table littered with books, magazines and illustrated weeklies.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you play chess, Monsieur?&rdquo; said Madame to Fitzgerald.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Colonel, we will play a game and show him how it is done.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitzgerald drew up a chair and sat down at Madame's elbow. He followed
+      every move she made because he had never seen till now so round and
+      shapely an arm, hands so small and white, tipped with pink filbert nails.
+      He did not learn the game so quickly as might be. He, like Maurice, was
+      pondering over the unusual position in which he found himself; but
+      analysis of any sort was not his forte; so he soon forgot all save the
+      delicate curve of Madame's chin and throat, the soft ripple of her
+      laughter, the abysmal gray of her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur le Capitaine,&rdquo; said the countess, &ldquo;what shall I sing to you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To me?&rdquo; said Maurice. &ldquo;Something from Abt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her fingers ran lightly over the keys, and presently her voice rose in
+      song, a song low, sweet, and sad. Maurice peered out of the window into
+      the shades of night. Visions passed and repassed the curtain of darkness.
+      Once or twice the countess turned her head and looked at him. It was not
+      only a handsome face she saw, but one that carried the mark of
+      refinement.... Maurice was thinking of the lonely princess and her grave
+      dark eyes. He possessed none of that power from which princes derive
+      benefits; what could he do? And why should he interest himself in a woman
+      who, in any event, could never be anything to him, scarcely even a friend?
+      He smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      If Fitzgerald was not adept at analysis, he was. Nothing ever entered his
+      mind or heart that he could not separate and define. It was strange; it
+      was almost laughable; to have fenced as long and adroitly as he had
+      fenced, and then to be disarmed by one who did not even understand the
+      foils! Surrender? Why not?... By and by his gaze traveled to the chess
+      players. There was another game than chess being played there, though
+      kings and queens and knights and bishops were still the sum of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you so very far away, then?&rdquo; The song had ceased; the countess was
+      looking at him curiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;indeed, you had taken me out of myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you like chestnuts?&rdquo; she asked suddenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am very fond of them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I shall fetch some.&rdquo; It occurred to her that the room was very warm;
+      she wanted a breath of air&mdash;alone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Checkmate!&rdquo; cried the Colonel, joyfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you begin to understand?&rdquo; asked Madame.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A little,&rdquo; admitted Fitzgerald, who did not wish to learn too quickly. &ldquo;I
+      like to watch the game.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So do I,&rdquo; said Maurice, who had approached the table. &ldquo;I should like to
+      know what the game is, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Both Madame and the Colonel appeared to accept the statement and not the
+      innuendo. Madame placed the figures on the board.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice strolled over to the table and aimlessly glanced through the
+      Vienna illustrated weeklies. He saw Franz Josef in characteristic poses,
+      full-page engravings of the military maneuvers and reproductions of the
+      notable paintings. He picked up an issue dated June. A portrait of the new
+      Austrian ambassador to France attracted his attention. He turned the leaf.
+      What he saw on the following page caused him to widen his eyes and let
+      slip an ejaculation loud enough to be heard by the chess players. Madame
+      seemed on the point of rising. Maurice did not lower his eyes nor Madame
+      hers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Checkmate in three moves, Madame!&rdquo; exclaimed the Colonel; &ldquo;it is
+      wonderful.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's the matter, Maurice?&rdquo; asked Fitzgerald.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jack, I am a ruined man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How? What?&rdquo; nearly upsetting the board.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I just this moment remember that I left my gas burning at the hotel, and
+      it is extra.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Colonel and Fitzgerald lay back in their chairs and roared with
+      laughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Madame did not even smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER X. BEING OF LONG RIDES, MAIDS, KISSES AND MESSAGES
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      Fitzgerald was first into bed that night.
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want to finish this cigar, Jack,&rdquo; said Maurice, who wished to be alone
+      with his thoughts. He sat in the chair by the window and lifted his feet
+      to the sill. The night wind was warm and odorous. He had found a clue, but
+      through what labyrinth would it lead him? A strange adventure, indeed; so
+      strange that he was of half a mind that he dreamed. Prisoners.... Why? And
+      these two women alone in this old chateau, a house party. There lay below
+      all this some deep design.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Should he warn his friend? Indeed, as yet, of what had he to warn him? To
+      discover Madame to Fitzgerald would be to close the entrance to this
+      labyrinth which he desired to explore. How would Madame act, now that she
+      knew he possessed her secret? Into many channels he passed, but all these
+      were blind, and led him to no end. Madame had a purpose; to discover what
+      this purpose was Fitzgerald must remain in ignorance. What a woman! She
+      resembled one of those fabulous creatures of medieval days. And why was
+      the countess on the scene, and what was her part in this invisible game?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He finished his cigar and lit another; but the second cigar solved no more
+      than the first. Mademoiselle of the Veil! He knew now what she meant;
+      having asked her to lift her veil, she had said, &ldquo;Something terrible would
+      happen.&rdquo; At last he, too, sought bed, but he did not sleep so soundly as
+      did Fitzgerald.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ten days of this charming captivity passed; there was a thicker carpet of
+      leaves on the ground, and new distances began to show mistily through the
+      dismantling forest. But there were no changes at the Red Chateau&mdash;no
+      outward changes. It might, in truth, have been a house party but for the
+      prowling troopers and the continual grumbling of the Englishman when alone
+      with Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      During the day they hunted or took long rides into the interior of the
+      duchy. Both women possessed a fine skill in the saddle. In the evenings
+      there were tourneys at chess, games and music.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Each night Fitzgerald learned a little more about chess and a little less
+      about woman. The countess, airy and delicate as a verse of Voiture's, bent
+      all her powers (and these were not inconsiderable) toward the subjugation
+      of Maurice. She laughed, she sang, she fascinated. She had the ability to
+      amuse hour after hour. She offered vague promises with her eyes, and
+      refused them with her lips. Maurice, who was never impregnable under the
+      fire of feminine artillery, was at times half in love with her; but his
+      suspicions, always near the surface, saved him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sometimes he caught her hand and retained it over long; and once, when he
+      kissed it, there was no rebuke. Again, when she sang, he would lean so
+      close that she could feel his breath on her cheek, and her fingers would
+      stumble into discords. Often she would suddenly rise from the piano and
+      walk swiftly from the room, through the halls, into the park, where,
+      though he followed, he never could find her. One day she and Madame
+      returned from a walk in the forest, the one with high color and brilliant
+      eyes, the other impassive as ice. Now, all these things did not escape
+      Maurice, but he could not piece them together with any result.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the morning of the tenth day the two prisoners came down to breakfast,
+      wondering how much longer this house party was going to last.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;George! I wish I had a pipe,&rdquo; said Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So do I,&rdquo; Fitzgerald echoed glumly. &ldquo;I am tired of cigars and weary of
+      those eternal cigarettes. How the deuce are we going to get out of this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's your hurry? We're having a good time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's the trouble. Hang the duchess!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hang her and welcome. But why do you complain to me and not to Madame?
+      Are you afraid of her? Does she possess, then, what is called tamer's
+      magnetism? O, my lion, if only you would roar a bit more at her and less
+      at me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know what she possesses; but I do know that I'd give a deal to be
+      out of this.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is the chambermaid idea bothering you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Maurice, it is not the chambermaid. I feel oppressed by something
+      which I can not define.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe you are not used to tokay forty years old?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wine has nothing to do with it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was so serious that Maurice dropped his jesting tone. &ldquo;By the way,&rdquo; he
+      said, &ldquo;do you sleep soundly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. Every night I am awakened by the noise of a horse entering the
+      court-yard.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So am I. Moreover, Madame seems to be troubled with the same
+      sleeplessness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. She is so troubled with sleeplessness that nothing will quiet her
+      but the sight of the man who rides the horse: all of which is to say that
+      a courier arrives each night with dispatches from Bleiberg. Now, to tell
+      the truth, the courier does not keep me awake half so much as the thought
+      of who is eating three meals a day at the end of the east corridor on the
+      third floor. But there are Madame and the countess; we have kept them
+      waiting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good morning,&rdquo; said Madame, smiling as they came up. &ldquo;And how have you
+      slept?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing wakes me but the roll of the drum or thunder,&rdquo; answered
+      Fitzgerald diffidently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I dream of horses,&rdquo; said Maurice carelessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bon jour, M. le Capitaine!&rdquo; cried the countess. Then she added with a
+      light laugh: &ldquo;Come, let me try you. Portons armes! Presentons armes!&mdash;How
+      beautifully you do it!&mdash;Par le flanc gauche! En avant&mdash;marche!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice swung, clicked his heels and, with a covert glance at Madame, led
+      the way into the dining hall, whistling, &ldquo;Behold the saber of my father!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, I do not see the Colonel,&rdquo; said Maurice; for night and day the old
+      soldier had been with them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has gone to Brunnstadt,&rdquo; said Madame, &ldquo;but will return this evening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The breakfast was short and merry. Words passed across the table that were
+      as crisp as the toast. Maurice remarked the advent of two liveried
+      servants, stolid Germans by the way, who, as he afterward found, did not
+      understand French.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So the Colonel has gone to Brunnstadt?&rdquo; said Maurice; which was a long
+      way of asking why the Colonel had gone to Brunnstadt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Madame; &ldquo;he has gone to consult Madame the duchess to see what
+      shall be done to you, Monsieur.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To be done to me?&rdquo; ignoring the challenge in her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. You must not forget that you promised me your sword, and I have
+      taken the liberty of presenting it to her Highness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I remember nothing about promising my sword,&rdquo; said Maurice, gazing
+      ceiling-ward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What! There was a mental reservation?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Madame. I remember my words only too well. I said that I loved
+      adventure, thoughtless youth that I was, and that I was easy to be found.
+      Which is all true, and part proved, since I am here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Still, the uniform fits you exceedingly well. The hussars hold a high
+      place at court.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame,&rdquo; replied he pleasantly, &ldquo;I appreciate the honor, but at present
+      my sword and fealty are sworn to my own country. And besides, I have no
+      desire to take part in the petty squabble between this country and the
+      kingdom.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The forecast of a storm lay in Madame's gray eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh? You wish to placate me, Madame?&rdquo; thought Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is right, Madame,&rdquo; interposed the countess. &ldquo;But away with politics!
+      It spoils all it touches.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And away with the duchess, too,&rdquo; put in Fitzgerald, reaching for a bunch
+      of yellow grapes. &ldquo;With all due respect to your cause and beliefs, Madame
+      the duchess, your mistress, is a bugbear to me. The very sound of the
+      title arouses in my heart all that is antagonistic.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have not seen her Highness, Monsieur,&rdquo; said Madame, quietly. &ldquo;Perhaps
+      she is all that is desirable. She is known to be rich, her will is
+      paramount to all others. When she sets her heart on a thing she leaves no
+      stone unturned until she procures it. And, countess, do they not say of
+      her that she possesses something&mdash;an attribute&mdash;more dangerous
+      than beauty&mdash;fascination?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Madame.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame the duchess,&rdquo; said Maurice dryly, &ldquo;has a stanch advocate in you,
+      Madame.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not unnatural.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be that as it may,&rdquo; said Fitzgerald, &ldquo;she is mine enemy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Love your enemies, says the Book,&rdquo; was the interposition of the countess,
+      who stole a sly glance at Maurice which he did not see.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That would not be difficult&mdash;in some cases,&rdquo; replied the Englishman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, come,&rdquo; thought Maurice, &ldquo;my friend is beginning to pick up his
+      lines.&rdquo; Aloud he said: &ldquo;Madame, will you confer a favor on me by
+      permitting me to inform my superior in Vienna of my whereabouts?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Monsieur; prisoners are not allowed to communicate with the outside
+      world. Are you not enjoying yourself? Is not everything being done for
+      your material comfort? What complaint have you to offer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A gilded cage is no less a cage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is but temporary. The duchess has commanded that you be held until it
+      is her pleasure to come to the chateau. O, Monsieur, where is your
+      gallantry? Here the countess and I have done so much to amuse you, and you
+      speak of a gilded cage!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pretty bird! pretty bird!&rdquo; said Maurice, in a piping voice, &ldquo;will it have
+      some caraway?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame laughed. &ldquo;Well, I hear the grooms leading the horses under the
+      porte cochere. Go, then, for the morning ride. I am sorry that I can not
+      accompany you. I have some letters to write.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitzgerald curled his mustache. &ldquo;I'll forswear the ride myself. I was
+      reading a good book last night; I'll finish it, and keep Madame company.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame trifled with the toast crumbs. Fitzgerald's profound dissimulation
+      caused a smile to cross Maurice's lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, countess,&rdquo; said Maurice, gaily; &ldquo;we'll take the ride together,
+      since Madame has to write and my lord to read.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Five minutes until I dress,&rdquo; replied the countess, and she sped away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a beautiful girl!&rdquo; said Madame, fondly. &ldquo;Poor dear! Her life has not
+      been a bed of roses.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No?&rdquo; said Maurice, while Fitzgerald raised his eyebrows inquiringly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. She was formerly a maid of honor to her Highness. She made an unhappy
+      marriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And where is the count?&rdquo; asked Fitzgerald in surprise. He shot a glance
+      of dismay at Maurice, who, translating it, smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is dead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitzgerald looked relieved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a fine thing it is,&rdquo; said Maurice, rising, &ldquo;to be a man and wed
+      where and how you will!&rdquo; He withdrew to the main hall to don his cap and
+      spurs. As he stooped to strap the latter, he saw a sheet of paper,
+      crinkled by recent dampness, lying on the floor. He picked it up&mdash;and
+      read it.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;The plan you suggest is worthy of you, Madame. The
+     Englishman is fair game, being a common enemy. Let
+     us gain our ends through the heart, since his purse
+     is impregnable to assaults. But the countess? Why not
+     the pantry maid, since the other is an American? They
+     lack discrimination. The king grows weaker every
+     day. Nothing was found in the Englishman's rooms. I
+     fear that the consols are in the safe at the British
+     legation. As usual, a courier will arrive each night.
+                           B.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why&mdash;not&mdash;the&mdash;pantry maid?&rdquo; Maurice drawled. &ldquo;That is
+      flippant.&rdquo; He read the message again. &ldquo;What plan?&rdquo; Suddenly he struck his
+      thigh. &ldquo;By George, so that is it, eh, Madame? So that is why we are so
+      comfortably lodged here? I am in the way, and you bait the hook with a
+      countess! Since the purse will not lead the way, the heart, eh? Certainly
+      I shall tell my lord the Englishman all about his hostess when I return
+      from the ride. Decidedly you are clever. O, how careless! Not even in
+      cipher, so that he who reads may run. And who is B.?&mdash;Beauvais!
+      Something told me that this man had a hand in the affair. I remember the
+      look he gave me. A traitor, too.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hang my memory, which seems always to forget what I wish to remember and
+      remember what I wish to forget! Where have I met this man Beauvais before?
+      Ah, the countess!&rdquo; He thrust the message into his breast. &ldquo;Evidently
+      Madame thinks I am worth consideration; uncommonly pretty bait. Shall I
+      let the play run on, or shall I tell her? Ah! you have two minutes to
+      spare,&rdquo; he said, as she approached. &ldquo;But you do not need them,&rdquo; throwing a
+      deal of admiration into his glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It does not take me long to dress&mdash;on occasions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A compliment to me?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you will accept it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was an exhilarating morning, full of forest perfumes. Through the haze
+      the mountains glittered like huge emeralds and amethysts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a day!&rdquo; said the countess, as they galloped away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye, for plots and war and love!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For plots and war?&rdquo; demurely. Her cheeks were rosy and her hair as yellow
+      as the silk of corn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, for love.&rdquo; He shortened his rein. &ldquo;A propos, have you ever
+      been in love, countess?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I? What a question!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;N&mdash;no! Let us talk of plots and war,&rdquo; gazing across the valley.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; let us talk of love. I am in love, and one afflicted that way wishes
+      a confidant. I appoint you mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Some rosy-cheeked peasant girl?&rdquo; laughing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps. Perhaps it's only a&mdash;a pantry maid,&rdquo; with a sly look from
+      the corner of his eyes. Evidently she had not heard. She was still
+      laughing. &ldquo;I have heard of hermits falling in love with stars, and have
+      laughed. Now I am in the same predicament. I love a star&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Operatic? To be sure! Mademoiselle Lenormand of the Royal Vienna is in
+      Bleiberg. How she keeps her age!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was Maurice's turn to laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And that is why you came to Bleiberg! Ah, these opera singers, had I my
+      way, they should all be aged and homely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Countess, you are pulling the bit too hard,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;I noticed
+      yesterday that your horse has a very tender mouth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you.&rdquo; She slacked the rein. &ldquo;He was going too close to the ditch.
+      You were saying&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, it was you who were saying that all actresses should be aged and
+      homely. But it is not Mademoiselle Lenormand, it is not the peasant, nor
+      the pantry maid.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This time she looked up quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The woman I love is too far away, so I am going to give up thinking of
+      her. Countess, I made a peculiar discovery this morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A discovery, Monsieur? What is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you see that fork in the road, a mile away? When we reach it and turn
+      I'll tell you what it is. If I told you now it might spoil the ride. What
+      a day, truly! How clear everything is! And the air is like wine.&rdquo; He drew
+      in deep breaths.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let us hurry and reach the fork in the road; my curiosity is stifling
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice did not laugh as she expected he would. As she observed the
+      thoughtful frown between his brows, a shiver of dread ran through her. It
+      did not take long to cover the intervening mile. They turned, and the
+      horses fell into a quick step.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, Monsieur; please!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      After all... But he quelled the gentle tremor in his heart. A month ago,
+      had he known her, he might now have told her altogether a different story.
+      He could see that she had not an inkling of what was to come (for he had
+      determined to tell her); and he vaguely wondered if he should bring
+      humiliation to the dainty creature. It would be like nicking a porcelain
+      cup. Her brows were arched inquisitively and her lips puckered....He had
+      had a narrow escape.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He drew the message from his breast, leaned across and handed it to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, what is this, Monsieur?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Read it and see.&rdquo; And he busied himself with the tangled mane of his
+      horse. When they had ridden several yards, he heard her voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here, Monsieur.&rdquo; The hand was extended, but the face was averted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Countess, you are too charming a woman to lend yourself to such schemes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you not volunteer to make me fall in love with you to keep me from
+      interfering with Madame's plans?&rdquo; It was brutal, but he was compelled to
+      say it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you not?&rdquo; he persisted. &ldquo;When one writes such messages as these, one
+      should use an intricate cipher. Had I been other than a prisoner, what I
+      have done would not be the act of a gentleman. But I am a prisoner; I must
+      defend myself. To rob a man through his love! And such a man! He is a very
+      infant in the hands of a woman. He has been a soldier all his life. All
+      women to him are little less than angels; he knows nothing of their
+      treachery, their deceit, their false smiles. It will be an easy victory,
+      or rather it would have been, for I shall do my best to prevent it. Madame
+      is not unknown to me; I have been waiting to see what meant this peculiar
+      house party.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps I am now too late. Madame distrusts me. I dare say she has her
+      reasons. She went to you. You were to occupy me. I was young, I liked the
+      society of women, I was gay and careless. She has decked me out as one
+      would deck a monkey (and doubtless she calls me one behind my back), and
+      has offered me a sword to play with.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In America, when a man puts a sword in his hand, it is to kill somebody.
+      Here&mdash;aye, all over the continent, for that matter&mdash;swords are
+      baubles for young nobles, used to slash each other in love affairs. I
+      respect and admire you; had I not done so, I should not have spoken.
+      Countess, be frank with me, as frank as I have been with you; have I not
+      guessed rightly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Monsieur,&rdquo; her head bowed and her cheeks white. &ldquo;Yes, yes! it was a
+      miserable game. But I love Madame; I would sacrifice my pride and my heart
+      for her, if need be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can believe that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And believe me when I say that the moment I saw you, I knew that my
+      conduct was going to be detestable. But I had given my promise. A woman
+      has but little to offer to her country; I have offered my pride, and I am
+      a proud woman, Monsieur. I am ashamed. I am glad that you spoke, for it
+      was becoming unbearable to throw myself at a man whose heart I knew
+      intuitively to be elsewhere.&rdquo; She raised her eyes, which were filled with
+      a strange luster. &ldquo;Will you forgive me, Monsieur?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With all my heart. For now I know that we shall be friends. You will be
+      relieved of an odious part; for you are too handsome not to have in
+      keeping some other heart besides your own.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He then began gaily to describe some of his humorous adventures, and
+      continued in this vein till they arrived once more at the chateau.
+      Sometimes the countess laughed, but he could see that her sprightliness
+      was gone. When they came under the porte cochere he sprang from his horse
+      and assisted her to dismount; and he did not relinquish her hand till he
+      had given it a friendly pressure. She stood motionless on the steps,
+      centered a look on him which he failed to interpret, then ran swiftly into
+      the hall, thence to her room, the door of which she bolted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It would not be difficult,&rdquo; he mused, communing with the thought which
+      had come to him. &ldquo;It would be something real, and not a chimera.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned over the horses to the grooms, and went in search of Fitzgerald
+      to inform him of his discovery; but the Englishman was nowhere to be
+      found. Neither was Madame. Being thirsty, he proceeded to the dining hall.
+      Fadette, the maid, was laying the silver.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, the `pantry maid,'&rdquo; he thought. &ldquo;Good day, Fadette.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does Monsieur wish for something?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A glass of water. Thanks!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She retreated and kept her eyes lowered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fadette, you are charming. Has any one ever told you that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O, Monsieur!&rdquo; blushing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have they?&rdquo; lessening the distance between them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sometimes,&rdquo; faintly. She could not withstand his glance, so she retired a
+      few more steps, only to find herself up with the wall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With a laugh he sprang forward and caught her face between his hands and
+      imprinted a kiss on her left cheek. Suddenly she wrenched herself loose,
+      uttered a frightened cry and fled down the pantryway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's the matter with the girl?&rdquo; he muttered aloud. &ldquo;I wanted to ask her
+      some questions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ask them of me, Monsieur,&rdquo; said a voice from the doorway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice wheeled. It was Madame, but her face expressed nothing. He saw
+      that he had been caught. The humor of the situation got the better of him,
+      and he laughed. Madame ignored this unseemly hilarity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur, is this the way you return my kindness?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Permit me to apologize. As to your kindness, I have just discovered that
+      it is of a most dangerous quality.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean that I could not kiss Madame the countess with the same sense of
+      security as I could the&mdash;pantry maid,&rdquo; bowing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Just now Madame's face expressed a good deal. &ldquo;Of what are you talking?&rdquo;
+       advancing a step.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had in mind what our friend, Colonel Beauvais, remarked in his recent
+      dispatch: I know no discrimination. The fact is, I do. I found the
+      dispatch on the floor this morning. Allow me to return it to you. I have
+      kept silent, Madame, because I did not know how to act.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have dared&mdash;?&rdquo; her lips pressed and her eyes thunderous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To read it? Aye. I am a prisoner; it was in self-defense. Madame, you do
+      me great honor. A countess! What consideration to the indiscriminate! Au
+      revoir, then, till luncheon;&rdquo; and he left the room, whistling&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Voici le sabre de mon pere!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XI. THE DENOUEMENT
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      At no time during the afternoon did Maurice find the opportunity to speak
+      privately to Fitzgerald. Madame hovered about, chatting, smiling and
+      humming snatches of song. She seemed to have formed a sudden attachment
+      for Maurice; that is to say, she could not bear to lose sight of him, not
+      for the briefest moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He swallowed his chagrin, for he could but confess that it was
+      sugar-coated. Madame had at last considered his case, and had labeled him
+      dangerous. Somehow a man always likes to be properly valued. It
+      re-establishes his good opinion of himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Well, well; however affectionate Madame might be, she could scarcely carry
+      it beyond the threshold of his chamber, and he was determined to retire at
+      an early hour. But he had many things to learn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitzgerald was abandoned to the countess, who had still much color to
+      regain. From time to time the Englishman looked over his shoulder to see
+      what was going on between Madame and his friend, and so missed half of
+      what the countess said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; thought Maurice, &ldquo;it is time I made a play.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The blackberries were ripe along the stone walls which surrounded the
+      chateau. Maurice wandered here and there, plucking what fruit he could
+      find. Now and then he would offer a branch to Madame. At length, as though
+      by previous arrangement with Madame, the countess led Fitzgerald around to
+      the other side of the chateau, so that Madame and Maurice were alone.
+      Immediately the smile, which had rested on her lips, vanished. Her
+      companion was gazing mountainward, and cogitating. How fared those in
+      Bleiberg?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a beautiful world it is!&rdquo; said a low, soft voice close to his ear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice resumed his berry picking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What exquisite tints in the skies!&rdquo; went on the voice; &ldquo;what matchless
+      color in the forests!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice plucked a berry, ate it, and smacked his lips. It was a good
+      berry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what a terrible thing it would be if one should die suddenly, or be
+      thrown into a windowless dungeon, shut out from all these splendid
+      reaches?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice plucked another berry, but he did not eat it. Instinctively he
+      turned&mdash;and met a pair of eyes as hard and cold and gray as new
+      steel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;sounds like a threat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And if it were, Monsieur, and if it were?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If it were, I should say that you had discovered that I know too much. I
+      suspected from the first; the picture merely confirmed my suspicions. I
+      see now that it was thoughtless in me not to have told my friend; but it
+      is not too late.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why, I ask, have I not suppressed you before this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Till to-day, Madame, you had not given me your particular consideration.&rdquo;
+       Then, as if the conversation was not interesting him, he returned to the
+      berries. &ldquo;There's a fine one there. It's a little high; but then!&rdquo; He
+      tiptoed, drew the branch from the wall, and snatched the luscious fruit.
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur, attend to me; the berries can wait.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, the life of a good blackberry is short.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To begin with, you say that I did not show you consideration. Few princes
+      have been shown like consideration.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was wrong. It is not every man that has a countess&mdash;and a pretty
+      one, too!&mdash;thrown at his head.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame was temporarily silenced by this retort; it upset her calculations.
+      She scrutinized the clean, smooth face, and she saw lines which had
+      hitherto escaped her notice. She was at last convinced that she had to
+      contend with a man, a man who had dealt with both men and women. How deep
+      was he? Could honors, such as she could give, and money plumb the
+      depths?... He was an American. She smiled the smile of duplicity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;do you lack wealth?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I lack it; but that is not to say that I desire it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps it is honors you desire?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Honors? To what greater honor may I aspire than that which is written in
+      my passports?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is written in your passports?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That I am a citizen of the United States of America. It would not be good
+      taste in me to accept honors save those that my country may choose to
+      confer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again Madame found her foil turned aside. She began to lose patience. Her
+      boot patted the sod. &ldquo;Monsieur, since the countess is not high enough,
+      since gold and honors have no charm, listen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am listening, Madame.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I permit you to witness the comic opera, but I shall allow no prompting
+      from outsiders.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, do you expect me to sit calmly by and see my friend made a fool?&rdquo;
+       He spoke warmly and his eyes remained steadfast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly that is what you shall do,&rdquo; coldly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, you are a beautiful woman; heaven has endowed you with something
+      more than beauty. Is it possible that the gods forgot to mix conscience in
+      the mold?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Conscience? Royalty knows none.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, Madame, wait till you are royal.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take care. You have not felt my anger.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I would rather that than your love.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She marveled at her patience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you have no conscience, Madame, I have. I shall warn him. You shall
+      not dishonor him if I can prevent it. You wish to win his love, and you
+      have gauged the possibilities of it so accurately that you know you will
+      have but to ask, be it his honor or his life. A far finer thing it would
+      be for you to win your crown at the point of the sword. There would be a
+      little glory in it then. But even then, the world would laugh at you. For
+      you would be waging war against a lonely woman, a paralytic king, a
+      prelate who is a man of peace. What resistance could these three offer?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But to gain your ends by treachery and deceit, to rob a man of his brains
+      and heart, laughing the while in your sleeve; to break his life and make
+      him curse all women, from Eve to you and the mother who bore him! Ah,
+      Madame, let me plead with you. Give him his liberty. Let him go back and
+      complete the task imposed on him. Do not break his life, for life is more
+      than a crown; do not compel him to sully his honor, for honor is more than
+      life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your cause is just, I will admit, but do not tarnish it by such
+      detestable means. 'Tis true that a crown to me signifies nothing, but life
+      and honor are common to us both. With all his strength and courage, my
+      friend is helpless. All his life he has been without the society of women.
+      If he should love you&mdash;God help him! His love would be without
+      calculation, without reason, blind and furious. Madame, do not destroy
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Sometimes, in the passing, we are stopped by the sound of a voice. It is
+      not the words it utters, nor the range nor tone. It is something
+      indefinable, and, though we can not analyze it, we are willing to follow
+      wherever it leads. Such a voice Maurice possessed, though he was totally
+      ignorant of its power. But Madame, as she listened, felt its magic
+      influence, and for a moment the spell rendered her mute.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur, you have missed your vocation; you plead well, indeed.
+      Unfortunately, I can not hear; my ears are of wax. No, no! I have
+      nourished these projects too long; they are a part of me. Laughed at, you
+      say? Have I not been laughed at from one end of the continent to the
+      other?&rdquo; passionately. &ldquo;It is my turn now, and woe to those who have dared
+      to laugh. I shall sweep all obstacles away; nothing shall stop me. Mine
+      the crown is, and mine it shall be. I am a woman, and I wished to avoid
+      bloodshed. But not even that shall stay me; not even love!&rdquo; Her bosom
+      heaved, her hands were clenched, and her gray eyes flashed like troubled
+      waters in the sunlight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, if you love him&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; proudly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I am wrong. If you loved him you would prize above all else this
+      honor of which you intend to rob him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I brought you here not to discuss whether I am right or wrong. Look about
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice was somewhat troubled to discover several troopers lounging about
+      just out of earshot. They were so arranged as to prevent egress from the
+      park. He looked thoughtfully at the wall. It was eight feet in height.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame saw the look, and said, &ldquo;Corporal!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a noise on the other side of the wall, and presently a head
+      bobbed up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame?&rdquo; inquired the head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing. I wished to know if you were at your post.&rdquo; She turned to
+      Maurice, who was puzzled to know what all this was preamble to. &ldquo;Monsieur
+      Carewe, I never forget details. I had an idea that when I submitted my
+      proposals to you, you might be tempted to break your parole.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice gnawed his lip. &ldquo;Proceed, Madame.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are only two. If you do not promise here and now in no way to
+      interfere with my plans, these troopers will convey you to Brunnstadt,
+      where you will be kept in confinement until the succession to the throne
+      is decided one way or the other. The other proposal is, if you promise&mdash;and
+      I have faith in your word&mdash;the situation will continue the same as at
+      present. Choose, Monsieur. Which is it to be?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The devil gleamed in his eyes. He remained silent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well! Well!&rdquo; impatiently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I accept the alternative,&rdquo; with bad grace. &ldquo;If I made a dash&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You would be shot; those were my orders.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And if I went to prison&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You would miss what you call the comic opera, but which to me is all
+      there is in life. You say that I have read your friend well. That is true.
+      Do you think that it is easy for me to lessen myself in my own eyes? No
+      woman lives who is prouder than I. Remember, you are not to hint at what I
+      propose to do, nor who I am. See! It is all because you read something
+      which was not intended for your eyes. Be my friend, or be my enemy, it is
+      a matter of indifference to me. You have only yourself to blame. Had you
+      gone about your business and not intruded where you were not wanted,
+      neither you nor your friend would be here. No interference from you,
+      Monsieur; that is the understanding.&rdquo; She raised her hand and made a sign,
+      and the troopers took themselves off. &ldquo;Now you may go&mdash;to the
+      countess, if you wish; though I dare say that she will not find you in the
+      best of tempers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I dare say she won't,&rdquo; said Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitzgerald sat by a window in the music room. He had resurrected from no
+      one knew where a clay with a broken stem. There was a thoughtful cast to
+      his countenance, and he puffed away, blissfully unconscious of, or
+      indifferent to, the close proximity of the velvet curtains. A thrifty
+      housewife, could she have seen the smoke rise and curl and lose itself in
+      the folds above, would have experienced the ecstasy of anxiety and
+      perturbation. But there was no thrifty housewife at the Red Chateau,
+      nothing but dreams of conquest and revenge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Twilight was gathering about, soft-footed and shadowful. Long reaches of
+      violet and vermilion clouds pressed thickly on the western line of hills.
+      The mists began to rise, changing from opal to sapphire. The fantastic
+      melodies of wandering gypsy songs went throbbing through the room;
+      rollicking gavots, Hungarian dances, low and slumbrous nocturnes. As the
+      music grew sadder and dreamier, the smoker moved uneasily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Somehow, it gripped his heart; and the long years of loneliness returned
+      and overwhelmed him. They marshaled past, thirteen in all; and there were
+      glimpses of deserts, snowcapped mountains, men moving in the blur of
+      smoke, long watches in the night. Thirteen years in God-forsaken outposts,
+      with never a sight of a woman's face, the sound of her voice, the swish of
+      her gown, nor a touch of the spell which radiates from her presence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had never made friends. Others had come up to him and passed him, and
+      had gone to the cities, leaving him to bear the brunt of the cold, the
+      heat, the watchfulness. He had made his bed; he was too much his father's
+      son to whine because it was hard. Often he used to think how a few words,
+      from a pride humbled, would have removed the barrier. But the words never
+      came, nor was the pride ever humbled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Out of all the thirteen years he could remember only six months of
+      pleasure. He had been transferred temporarily to Calcutta, where his
+      Colonel, who had received secret information concerning him, had treated
+      him like a gentleman, and had employed him as regimental interpreter, for
+      he spoke French and German and a smattering of Indian tongues. During his
+      lonely hours he had studied, for he knew that some day he would be called
+      upon to administer a vast fortune.... He laid the pipe on the sill, rested
+      his elbows beside it, and dropped his chin in his hands. What a fool he
+      had been to waste the best years of his life! His father would have opened
+      to him a boundless career; he would have seen the world under the guidance
+      of a master hand. And here he was to-day, the possessor of millions, a
+      beggar in friends, no niche to fill, a wanderer from place to place.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The old pile in England, he never wished to see it again; the memories
+      which it would arouse would be too bitter.... The shade of Beethoven
+      touched him as it passed; Mozart, Mendelssohn, Chopin. But he was thinking
+      only of his loneliness, and the marvelous touch of the hands which evoked
+      the great spirits was lost upon him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice was seated in one of the gloomy corners. He had still much good
+      humor to recover. He pulled at his lips, and wondered from time to time
+      what was going on in Fitzgerald's head. Poor devil! he thought; could he
+      resist this woman whose accomplishments were so varied that at one moment
+      she could overthrow a throne and at the next play Phyllis to some
+      strolling Corydon? Since he himself, who knew her, could entertain for her
+      nothing but admiration, what hope was there for the Englishman? What a
+      woman! She savored of three hundred years off. To plan by herself, to
+      arrange the minutest detail, and above all to wait patiently! Patience has
+      never been the attribute of a woman of power; Madame possessed both
+      patience and power.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The countess was seated in another dark corner. Suddenly she arose and
+      said, in a voice blended with great trouble and impatience: &ldquo;For pity's
+      sake, Madame, cease those dirges! Play something lively; I am sad.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The music stopped, but presently began again. Maurice leaned forward.
+      Madame was playing Chopin's polonaise. He laughed silently. He was in
+      Madame's thoughts. It struck him, however, that the notes had a defiant
+      ring.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lights!&rdquo; called Madame, rising from the stool.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Immediately a servant entered with candles and retired. Maurice, when his
+      eyes had grown accustomed to the lights, scanned the three faces. Madame's
+      was radiant. Fitzgerald's was a mixture&mdash;a comical mixture&mdash;of
+      content and enjoyment, but the countess's was as colorless as the wax in
+      the candlesticks. He asked himself what other task she had to perform that
+      she should take so long to recover her roses. Had the knowledge of her
+      recent humiliation been too much for her?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was speaking to him. &ldquo;Monsieur, will you walk with me in the park? I
+      am faint.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you ill, countess?&rdquo; asked Madame, coming up and placing her hand
+      under the soft round chin of the other and striving to read her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not so ill, Madame, that a breath of fresh air will not revive me.&rdquo; When
+      they had gained the park, the countess said to Maurice: &ldquo;Monsieur, I have
+      brought you here to tell you something. I fear that your friend is lost,
+      for you can do nothing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not even if I break my word?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It would do no good.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is too late,&rdquo; lowly. &ldquo;I have been Madame's understudy too long not to
+      read. Forgive me. I was to keep you apart; I have done so. The evil can
+      not now be repaired. Your hope is that Madame has not fully considered his
+      pride.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has she any regard for him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sentiment?&mdash;love?&rdquo; She uttered a short, incredulous laugh. &ldquo;Madame
+      has brain, not heart. Could a woman with a heart plan as she plans?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, let us not talk of plots and plans; let us talk of&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur, do not be unkind. I have asked your forgiveness. Let us not
+      talk; let us be silent and listen to the night;&rdquo; and she leaned over the
+      terrace balustrade.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice floated. As he leaned beside her a strand of perfumed hair blew
+      across his nostrils. ... The princess was at best a dream. It was not
+      likely that he ever would speak to her again. The princess was a poem,
+      unlettered and unrhymed. But here, close to him, was a bit of beautiful
+      material prose. The hair again blew out toward him and he moved his lips.
+      She heard the vague sound and lifted her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Far away came the call of the sentry; a horse whinneyed in the stables.
+      There was in the air the odor of an approaching storm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XII. WHOM THE GODS DESTROY AND A FEW OTHERS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Some time passed before Fitzgerald became aware of Maurice's departure.
+      When he saw that he and Madame were alone, he said nothing, but pulled all
+      the quicker at his clay. He wondered at the desire which suddenly
+      manifested itself. Fly? Why should he fly? The beat of his pulse answered
+      him.... What a fine thing it was to feel the presence of a woman&mdash;a
+      woman like this! What a fine thing always to experience the content
+      derived from her nearness!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked into his heart; there was no animosity; there was nothing at all
+      but a sense of gratefulness. In the dreary picture of his life there was
+      now an illumined corner. He had ceased to blame her; she was doing for her
+      country what he, did necessity so will, would do for his. And after all,
+      he could not war against a woman&mdash;a woman like this. His innate
+      chivalry was too deep-rooted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      How soft her voice was! The color of her hair and eyes followed him night
+      and day. Once he had been on the verge of sounding Maurice in regard to
+      Madame, Maurice was so learned in femininities; but this would have been
+      an acknowledgment of his ignorance, and pride closed his mouth. It was all
+      impossible, but then, why should he return to his loneliness without
+      attempting to find some one to share it with him? The king was safe; his
+      duty was as good as done; his conscience was at ease in that direction. He
+      needed not love, he thought, so much as sympathy.... Sympathy. He turned
+      over the word in his mind as a gem merchant turns over in his hand a
+      precious jewel. Sympathy; it was the key to all he desired&mdash;woman's
+      sympathy. There was nothing but ash in the bowl of his pipe, but he
+      continued to puff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame was seated at the piano again, idly thrumming soft minor chords.
+      She was waiting for him to speak; she wanted to test his voice, to know
+      and measure its emotion. At times she turned her head and shot a sly
+      glance at him as he sat there musing. There was a wrinkle of contempt and
+      amusement lurking at the corners of her eyes. Had Maurice been there he
+      would have seen it. Fitzgerald might have gazed into those eyes until
+      doomsday, and never have seen else than their gray fathoms. Minute after
+      minute passed, still he did not speak; and Madame was forced to break the
+      monotony. She was not sure that the countess could hold Maurice very long.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of what are you thinking, Monsieur?&rdquo; she asked, in a soft key.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He started, looked up and laid the pipe on the sill. &ldquo;Frankly, I was
+      thinking that nothing can be gained by keeping us prisoners here.&rdquo; He told
+      the lie rather diffidently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not even forgiveness?&rdquo; The lids of the gray eyes drooped and the music
+      ceased.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Forgiveness? O, there is nothing to forgive you; it is only your mistress
+      I can not forgive. On the contrary, there is much to thank you for.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Still, whatever I do or have done is merely in accordance with her
+      Highness's wishes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He moved uneasily. &ldquo;It is her will, not yours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; the heart of Madame Amerbach is supine to the brain of Madame the
+      duchess.&rdquo; She rose and moved silently to the window and peered out. He
+      thought her to be star-gazing; but she was not. She was endeavoring to see
+      where Maurice and the countess were.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, shall I tell you a secret?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A secret? Tell me,&rdquo; sitting in the chair next to his.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This has been the pleasantest week I have known in thirteen years.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you forgive me!&rdquo; Madame was not only mistress of music but of tones.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And then, out of the fullness of his lonely heart, he told her all about
+      his life, its emptiness, its deserts, its longings. Each sentence was a
+      knife placed in her hands; and as she contemplated his honest face which
+      could conceal nothing, his earnest eyes which could hide nothing, Madame
+      was conscious of a vague distrust of herself. If only he had offered to
+      fight, she thought. But he had not; instead, he was giving to her all his
+      weapons of defense.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, Monsieur, you do wrong to forgive me!&rdquo; impulsively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why should you be friendly to me when I represent all that is
+      antagonistic to you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To me you represent only a beautiful woman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah; you have been taking lessons of your friend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is a good teacher. He is one of those men whom I admire. Women have
+      never mastered him. He knows so much about them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes?&rdquo; a flicker in her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Beneath all his banter there is a brave heart. He is a rare man who,
+      having brain and heart to guide, follows the heart.&rdquo; He picked up the pipe
+      and began to play a tattoo on the sill. &ldquo;As for me, I know nothing of
+      women, save what I have read in books, and save that I have been too long
+      without them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you have gone all these years without knowing what it is to love?&rdquo; To
+      a man less guileless, this question would not have been in good taste.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitzgerald was silent; he dared not venture another lie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What! you are silent? Is there, after all, a woman somewhere in your
+      life?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo; He continued to tap the pipe. His gaze wandered to the candles,
+      strayed back to the window, then met hers steadfastly, so steadfastly,
+      that she could not resist. She was annoyed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me about her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My vocabulary is too limited. You would laugh at me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I? No; love is sacred.&rdquo; She had boasted to Maurice that she was without
+      conscience; she had only smothered it. &ldquo;Come; is she beautiful?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo; These questions disturbed him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly she must be worthy or you would not love her. She is rich?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That does not matter; I am.&rdquo; He was wishing that Maurice would hurry
+      back; the desire to fly was returning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And she rejected you and sent you to the army?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She has not rejected me, though I dare say she would, had I the
+      presumption to ask her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A faint heart, they say&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My heart is not faint; it is my tongue.&rdquo; He rose and wandered about the
+      room. Her breath was like orris, and went to his head like wine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;is it possible that you have succumbed to the
+      charms of Madame the countess?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He laughed. &ldquo;One may admire exquisite bric-a-brac without loving it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bric-a-brac! Poor Elsa!&rdquo; and Madame laughed. &ldquo;If it were the countess I
+      could aid you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Love is not merchandise, to traffic with.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame's cheeks grew warm. Sometimes the trick of fence is beaten down by
+      a tyro's stroke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh, bien, since it is not the countess&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He came toward her so swiftly that instinctively she rose and moved to the
+      opposite side of her chair. Something in his face caused her to shiver.
+      She had no time to analyze its meaning, but she knew that the shiver was
+      not unmixed with fear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, in God's name, do not play with me!&rdquo; he cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur, you forget yourself,&rdquo; for the moment forgetting her part.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, there is no self in my thoughts since they are all of you! You know
+      that I love you. Who could resist you? Thirteen years? They are well
+      wasted, in the end to love a woman like you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Before she could withdraw her hands from the top of the chair he had
+      seized them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur, release me.&rdquo; She struggled futilely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I love you.&rdquo; He began to draw her from behind the chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur, Monsieur!&rdquo; she, cried, genuinely alarmed; &ldquo;do not forget that
+      you are a gentleman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not a gentleman now; I am a man who loves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame was now aware that what she had aroused could not be subdued by
+      angry words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur, you say that you love me; do not degrade me by forcing me into
+      your arms. I am a woman, and weak, and you are hurting me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He let go her hands, and they stood there, breathing deeply and quickly.
+      But for her it was a respite. She had been too precipitate. She brought
+      together the subtle forces of her mind. She could gain nothing by force;
+      she must use cunning. To hold him at arm's length, and yet to hold him,
+      was her desire. She had reckoned on wax; a man stood before her. All at
+      once the flutter of admiration stirred in her heart. She was a soldier's
+      daughter, the daughter of a man who loved strong men. And this man was
+      doubly strong because he was fearless and honest. She read in his eyes
+      that a moment more and he had kissed her, a thing no man save her father
+      had ever done.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O, Monsieur,&rdquo; she said lightly, &ldquo;you soldiers are such forward lovers!
+      You have not even asked me if I love you.&rdquo; He made a move to regain her
+      hands. &ldquo;No, no!&rdquo; darting behind the chair. &ldquo;You must not take my hands;
+      you do not realize how strong you are. I am not sure that my heart
+      responds to yours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me, what must I do?&rdquo; leaning across the chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must have patience. A woman must be wooed her own way, or not at all.
+      What a whirlwind you are!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I would to heaven,&rdquo; with a gesture indicative of despair, &ldquo;that you had
+      kept me behind bars and closed doors.&rdquo; He dropped his hands from the chair
+      and sought the window, leaning his arms against the central frame.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame had fully recovered her composure. She saw her way to the end.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that I do not love you, but it is also true that
+      I am not indifferent to you. What proof have I that you really love me?
+      None, save your declaration; and that is not sufficient for a woman such
+      as I am. Shall I place my life in your hands for better or for worse,
+      simply because you say you love me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My love does not reason, Madame.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She passed over this stroke. &ldquo;I do not know you; it is not less than
+      natural for me to doubt you. What proof have I that your declaration of
+      love is not a scheme to while away your captivity at my expense? My heart
+      is not one to be taken by storm. There is only one road to my affections;
+      it is narrow. Other men have made love to me, but they have hesitated to
+      enter upon this self-same road.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Love that demands conditions? I have asked none.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame blushed. &ldquo;A man offers love; a woman confers it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what is this narrow road called which leads to your affections? Is
+      your heart a citadel?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is called sacrifice. Those who dwell in my heart, which you call a
+      citadel, enter by that road.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sacrifice?&rdquo; Fervor lighted his face again. &ldquo;Do you wish my fortune? It is
+      yours. My life? It is yours. Do you wish me to lead the army of the
+      duchess into Bleiberg? It shall be done. Sacrifice? I have sacrificed the
+      best years of youth for nothing; my life has been made up of sacrifices.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur, if I promised to listen to you here-after, if I promised a
+      heart that has never known the love of man, if I promised lips that have
+      never known the lips of any man save my father&mdash;&rdquo; She moved away from
+      the chair, within an arm's length of him. &ldquo;If I promised all these without
+      reservation, would you aid me to give back to the duchess her own?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Instantly her arms were pinioned to her sides, and he had drawn her so
+      close that she could feel his heart beat against her own.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have no fear,&rdquo; he said. The voice was unfamiliar to her ears. &ldquo;I shall
+      not kiss you. Let me look into your eyes, Madame, your eyes, and read the
+      lie which is written there. My fortune and my life are not enough. Keep
+      your love, Madame; I have no wish to purchase it. What! if I surrender my
+      honor it is agreed that you surrender yours? A love such as mine requires
+      a wife. You would have me break my word to the dead and to the living, and
+      you expect me to believe in your promises! Faugh!&rdquo; He pushed her from him,
+      and resumed his stand by the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The hate of a thousand ancestors surged into her heart, and she would have
+      liked to kill him. Mistress! He had dared. He had dared to speak to her as
+      no other man living or dead had dared. And he lived. All that was tigerish
+      in her soul rose to the surface; only the thought of the glittering goal
+      stayed the outburst. She had yet one weapon. A minute went by, still
+      another; silence. A hand was laid tremblingly on his arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Forgive me! I was wrong. Love me, love me, if you must. Keep your honor;
+      love me without conditions. I&mdash;&rdquo; She stumbled into the chair, covered
+      her eyes and fell to weeping.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitzgerald, dumfounded and dismayed, looked down at the beautiful head. He
+      could fight angry words, tempests of wrath&mdash;but tears, a woman's
+      tears, the tears of the woman he loved!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame,&rdquo; he said gently, &ldquo;do you love me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      No answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, for God's sake, do not weep! Do you love me? If you love me&mdash;if
+      you love me&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sprang to her feet. Once again she experienced that shiver; again her
+      conscience stirred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not know,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;But this I may say: your honor, which you hold
+      above the price of a woman's love, will be the cause of bloodshed. Mothers
+      and wives and sisters will execrate your name, brave men will be
+      sacrificed needlessly. What are the Osians to you? They are strangers. You
+      will do for them, and uselessly, what you refuse to do for the woman you
+      profess to love. I abhor bloodshed. Your honor is the offspring of pride
+      and egotism. Can you not see the inevitable? War will be declared. You can
+      not help Leopold; but you can save him the degradation of being expelled
+      from his throne by force of arms. The army of the duchess is true to its
+      humblest sword. Can you say that for the army of the king? Would you
+      witness the devastation of a beautiful city, by flame and sword?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur, Austria is with us, and she will abide with us whichever way we
+      move. Austria, Monsieur, which is Leopold's sponsor. And this Leopold, is
+      he a man to sit upon a throne? Is he a king in any sense of the word?
+      Would a king submit to such ignominy as he submits to without striking a
+      blow? Would he permit his ministers to override him? Would he permit his
+      army to murmur, his agents to plunder, his people to laugh at him, if he
+      possessed one kingly attribute? No, no! If you were king, would you allow
+      these things? No! You would silence all murmurs, you would disgorge your
+      agents, you would throttle those who dared to laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Put yourself in the duchess's place. All these beautiful lands are hers
+      by right of succession; is she wrong to desire them? What does she wish to
+      accomplish? She wishes to join the kingdom and the duchy, and to make a
+      great kingdom, as it formerly was. Do you know why Leopold was seated upon
+      the throne?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Some day the confederation will decide to divide all these lands into
+      tidbits, and there will be no one to oppose them. Madame the duchess
+      wishes to be strong enough to prevent it. And you, Monsieur, are the grain
+      of sand which stops all this, you and your pride. Not even a woman's love&mdash;There,
+      I have said it!&mdash;not even a woman's love&mdash;will move your sense
+      of justice. Go! leave me. Since my love is nothing, since the sacrifice I
+      make is useless, go; you are free!&rdquo; The tears which came into her eyes
+      this time were genuine; tears of chagrin, vexation, and of a third
+      sensation which still remained a mystery to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To him, as she spoke, with her wonderful eyes flashing, a rich color
+      suffusing her cheeks and throat and temples, the dim candle light breaking
+      against the ruddy hair; honor or pride, whichever it was, was well worth
+      the losing. He was a man; it is only the pope who is said to be
+      infallible. His honor could not save the king. All she had said was true.
+      If he held to his word there would be war and bloodshed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the other hand, if he surrendered, less harm would befall the king, and
+      the loss of his honor&mdash;was it honor?&mdash;would be well recompensed
+      for the remainder of his days by the love of this woman. His long years of
+      loneliness came back; he wavered. He glanced first at her, then at the
+      door; one represented all that was desirable in the world, the other more
+      loneliness, coupled with unutterable regret. Still he wavered, and finally
+      he fell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, will you be my wife?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo; And it seemed to her that the word, came to her lips by no volition
+      of hers. As she had grown red but a moment gone, she now grew
+      correspondingly pale, and her limbs shook. She had irrevocably committed
+      herself. &ldquo;No, no!&rdquo; as she saw him start forward with outstretched arms,
+      &ldquo;not my lips till I am your wife! Not my lips; only my hands!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He covered them with kisses.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush!&rdquo; as she stepped back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was time. Maurice and the countess entered the room. Maurice glanced
+      from Madame to Fitzgerald and back to Madame; he frowned. The Englishman,
+      who had never before had cause to dissemble, caught up his pipe and
+      fumbled it. This act merely discovered his embarrassment to the keen eyes
+      of his friend. He had forgotten all about Maurice. What would he say?
+      Maurice was something like a conscience to him, and his heart grew
+      troubled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame,&rdquo; Maurice whispered to the countess, &ldquo;I have lost all faith in
+      you; you have kept me too long under the stars.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Confidences?&rdquo; said Madame, with a swift inquiring glance at the countess.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O, no,&rdquo; said Maurice. &ldquo;I simply complained that Madame the countess had
+      kept me too long under the stars. But here is Colonel Mollendorf, freshly
+      returned from Brunnstadt to inform you that the army is fully prepared for
+      any emergency. Is not that true, Colonel?&rdquo; as he beheld that individual
+      standing in the doorway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; but how the deuce&mdash;your pardon, ladies!&mdash;did you find that
+      out?&rdquo; demanded the Colonel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guessed it,&rdquo; was the answer. &ldquo;But there will be no need of an army now.
+      Come, John, the Colonel, who is no relative of the king's minister of
+      police, has not the trick of concealing his impatience. He has something
+      important to say to Madame, and we are in the way. Come along, AEneas,
+      follow your faithful Achates; Thalia has a rehearsal.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitzgerald thrust his pipe into a pocket. &ldquo;Good night, Madame,&rdquo; he said
+      diffidently; &ldquo;and you, countess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good night, Colonel,&rdquo; sang out Maurice over his shoulder, and together
+      the pair climbed the stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitzgerald was at a loss how to begin, for something told him that Maurice
+      would demand an explanation, though the affair was none of his concern. He
+      filled his pipe, fired it and tramped about the room. Sometimes he picked
+      up the end of a window curtain and felt of it; sometimes he posed before
+      one of the landscape oils.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have something on your mind,&rdquo; said Maurice, pulling off his hussar
+      jacket and kicking it across the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame has promised to be my wife.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the conditions?&rdquo; curtly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitzgerald pondered over the other's lack of surprise. &ldquo;What would you do
+      if you loved a woman and she promised to be your wife?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd marry her,&rdquo; sitting down at the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What would you do in my place, and Madame had promised to marry you?&rdquo;
+       puffing quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd marry her,&rdquo; answered Maurice, banging his fist on the table, &ldquo;even if
+      all the kings and queens of Europe rose up against me. I would marry her,
+      if I had to bind her hands and feet and carry her to the altar and force
+      the priest at the point of a pistol, which, in all probability, is what
+      you will have to do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I love her,&rdquo; sullenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know who she is?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would it make any difference?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. Who is she?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is a woman without conscience; she is a woman who, to gain her
+      miserable ends, will stop neither at falsehood, deceit nor bloodshed. Do
+      you want me to tell you more? She is&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maurice, tell me nothing which will cause me to regret your friendship. I
+      love her; she has promised to be my wife.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She will ruin you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She has already done that,&rdquo; laconically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean to tell me&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes! For the promise of her love I am dishonored. For the privilege of
+      kissing her lips I have sold my honor. To call her mine, I would go
+      through hell. God! do you know what it is to be lonely, to starve in
+      God-forsaken lands, to dream of women, to long for them?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the poor paralytic king?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is he to me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And your father?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are my dead father's wishes? Maurice, I am mad!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a very sick man,&rdquo; Maurice replied crossly. &ldquo;What's to become of
+      all these vows&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are wasting your breath! Do you remember what Rochefoucauld said of
+      Madame de Longueville?&mdash;`To win her heart, to delight her beautiful
+      eyes, I have taken up arms against the king; I would have done the same
+      against the gods!' Is she not worth it all?&rdquo; with a gesture of his arms
+      which sent the live coals of his pipe comet-like across the intervening
+      space. &ldquo;Is she not worth it all?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who?&mdash;Madame de Longueville? I thought she was dead these two
+      hundred years!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Damn it, Maurice!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will, if you say so. The situation is equal to a good deal of plain,
+      honest damning.&rdquo; Maurice banged his fist again. &ldquo;John, sit down and listen
+      to me. I'll not sit still and see you made a fool. Promises? This woman
+      will keep none. When she has wrung you dry she will fling you aside. At
+      this moment she is probably laughing behind your back. You were brought
+      here for this purpose. Threats and bribes were without effect. Love might
+      accomplish what the other two had failed to do. You know little of the
+      ways of the world. Do you know that this house party is scandalous, for
+      all its innocence? Do you know that Madame's name would be a byword were
+      it known that we have been here more than two weeks, alone with two women?
+      Who but a woman that feels herself above convention would dare offer this
+      affront to society? Do you know why Madame the countess came? Company for
+      Madame? No; she was to play make love to me to keep me out of the way. Ass
+      that I was, I never suspected till too late! Madame's name is not Sylvia
+      Amerbach; it is&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The door opened unceremoniously and in walked the Colonel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your voices are rather high, gentlemen,&rdquo; he said calmly, and sat down in
+      an easy chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIII. BEING OF COMPLICATIONS NOT RECKONED ON
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Maurice leaped to his feet, a menace in his eyes. The Colonel crossed his
+      legs, rested his hands on the hilt of his saber, and smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I could not resist the desire to have a friendly chat with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have come cursed inopportune,&rdquo; snarled Maurice. &ldquo;What do you want?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want to give you the countersigns, so that when you start for Bleiberg
+      to-morrow morning you'll have no trouble.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bleiberg!&rdquo; exclaimed Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bleiberg. Madame desires me to say to you that you are to start for that
+      city in the morning, to fetch those slips of parchment which have caused
+      us all these years of worry. Ah, my friend,&rdquo; to Fitzgerald, &ldquo;Madame would
+      be cheap at twenty millions! You sly dog! And I never suspected it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitzgerald sent him a scowl. &ldquo;You are damned impertinent, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Impertinent?&rdquo; The Colonel uncrossed his legs and brought his knees
+      together. &ldquo;Madame has been under my care since she was a child, Monsieur;
+      I have a fatherly interest in her. At any rate, I am glad that the affair
+      is at an end. It was very noble in you. If I had had my way, though, it
+      would have been war, pure and simple. I left the duchess in Brunnstadt
+      this morning; she will be delighted to attend the wedding.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She will attend it,&rdquo; said Maurice, grimly; &ldquo;but I would not lay odds on
+      her delight. Colonel, the devil take me if I go to Bleiberg on any such
+      errand.&rdquo; He went to the window seat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Colonel rose and followed him. &ldquo;Pardon me,&rdquo; he said to Fitzgerald, who
+      did not feel at all complimented by Madame's haste; &ldquo;a few words in
+      Monsieur Carewe's ear. He will go to Bleiberg; he will be glad to go.&rdquo; He
+      bent towards Maurice. &ldquo;Go to Bleiberg, my son. A word to him about Madame,
+      and off you go to Brunnstadt. Will you be of any use there? I think not.
+      The little countess would cry out her pretty eyes if she heard that you
+      were languishing in the city prison at Brunnstadt, where only the lowest
+      criminals are confined. Submit gracefully, that is to say, like a soldier
+      against whom the fortunes of war have gone. Go to Bleiberg.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll go. I give up.&rdquo; It was not the threat which brought him to this
+      decision. It was a vision of a madonna-like face. &ldquo;I'll go, John. Where
+      are the certificates?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Between the mattresses and the slats of my bed you will find a gun in a
+      case. The certificates are in the barrels.&rdquo; His countenance did not
+      express any particular happiness; the lines about his mouth were sharper
+      than usual.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The devil!&rdquo; cried the Colonel; &ldquo;if only I had known that!&rdquo; He laughed.
+      &ldquo;Well, I'll leave you. Six o'clock&mdash;what's this?&rdquo; as he stooped and
+      picked up Maurice's cast-off hussar jacket.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was about to use it as a door mat,&rdquo; said Maurice, who was in a nasty
+      humor. That Fitzgerald had surrendered did not irritate him half so much
+      as the thought that he was the real puppet. His hands were tied, he could
+      not act, and he was one that loved his share in games.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Colonel reddened under his tan. &ldquo;No; I'll not lose my temper, though
+      this is cause enough. Curse me, but you lack courtesy. This is my uniform,
+      and whatever it may be to you it is sacred to me. You were not forced into
+      it; you were not compelled to wear it. What would you do if a man wore
+      your uniform and flung it around in this manner?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd knock him down,&rdquo; Maurice admitted. &ldquo;I apologize, Colonel; it was not
+      manly. But you must make allowances; my good nature has suffered a severe
+      strain. I'll get into my own clothes to-morrow if you will have a servant
+      sew on some buttons and mend the collar. By the way, who is eating three
+      meals a day in the east corridor on the third floor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Their glances fenced. The Colonel rubbed his mustache.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I like you,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;hang me if I don't. But as well as I like you, I
+      would not give a denier for your life if you were found in that self-same
+      corridor. The sentinel has orders to shoot; but don't let that disturb
+      you; you will know sooner or later. It is better to wait than be shot. A
+      horse will be saddled at six. You will find it in the court. The
+      countersigns are Weixel and Arnoldt. Good luck to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The same to you,&rdquo; rejoined Maurice, &ldquo;only worse.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Colonel's departure was followed by a period of temporary
+      speechlessness. Maurice smoked several &ldquo;Khedives,&rdquo; while Fitzgerald
+      emptied two or three pipe-bowls.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You seem to be in bad odor, Maurice,&rdquo; the latter ventured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In more ways than one. Where, in heaven's name, did you resurrect that
+      pipe?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the stables. It isn't the pipe, it's the tobacco. I had to break up
+      some cigars.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then came another period in the conversation. It occurred to both that
+      something yawned between them&mdash;a kind of abyss. Out of this abyss one
+      saw his guilt arise.... A woman stood at his side. He had an accomplice.
+      He had thrown the die, and he would stand stubbornly to it. His pride
+      built yet another wall around him, impregnable either to protests or to
+      sneers. He loved&mdash;that was recompense enough. A man will forgive
+      himself of grave sins when these are debtors to his love.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As for the other, he beheld a trust betrayed, and he was powerless to
+      prevent it. Besides, his self-love smarted, chagrin made eyes at him; and,
+      more than all else, he recognized his own share in the Englishman's fall
+      from grace. It had been innocent mischief on his part, true, but
+      nevertheless he stood culpable. He had no business to talk to a woman he
+      did not know. The more he studied the aspects of the situation the more
+      whimsical it grew. He was the prime cause of a king losing his throne, of
+      a man losing his honor, of a princess becoming an outcast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your bride-elect,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;seems somewhat over-hasty. Well, I'm off to
+      bed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maurice, can you blame me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, John; whom the gods destroy they first make mad. You will come to
+      your senses when it is too late.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For God's sake, Maurice, who is she?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What will you do if she breaks her promise?&rdquo; adroitly evading the
+      question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What shall I do?&rdquo; He emptied the ashes from his pipe, and rose; all that
+      was aggressive came into his face. &ldquo;I will bind her hands and feet and
+      carry her to the altar, and shoot the priest that refuses to marry us. O
+      Maurice, rest easy; no woman lives who will make a fool of me, and laugh.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's comfort;&rdquo; and Maurice turned in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This night it was the Englishman who sat up till the morning hours. Sylvia
+      Amerbach.... A fear possessed him. If it should be, he thought; if it
+      should be, what then?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Midnight in Madame's boudoir; no light save that which streamed rosily
+      from the coals in the grate. The countess sat with her slippered feet upon
+      the fender. She held in her hand a screen, and if any thoughts marked her
+      face, they remained in blurred obscurity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Heu!&rdquo; said Madame from the opposite side; &ldquo;it is all over. It was
+      detestable. I, to suffer this humiliation! Do you know what I have done? I
+      have promised to be his wife! His wife, I! Is it not droll?&rdquo; There was a
+      surprising absence of mirth in the low laugh which followed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I trust Madame will find it droll.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I, Madame?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; did you not bring the clown to your feet?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Madame.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How? You did not have the joy denied me&mdash;of laughing in his face?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Madame.&rdquo; With each answer the voice grew lower.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Since when have I been Madame to you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Since to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame reached out a hand and pressed down the screen. &ldquo;Elsa, what is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is what, Madame?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This strange mood of yours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were gay enough this morning. Tell me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is nothing to tell, Madame, save that my sacrifices are at an end.
+      I have nothing left.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What! You forsake me when the end is won?&rdquo; in astonishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not say that I should desert you; I said that I had no more
+      sacrifices to make.&rdquo; The Countess rose. &ldquo;For your sake, Madame, because
+      you have always been kind to me, and because it is impossible not to love
+      you, I have degraded myself. I have pretended to love a man who saw
+      through the artifice and told me so, to save me further shame. O Madame,
+      it is all execrable!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you will use this love which you have gained&mdash;this first love of
+      a man who has known no other and will know no other while he lives!&mdash;to
+      bring about his ruin? This other, at whose head you threw me&mdash;beware
+      of him. He is light-hearted and gay, perhaps. You call him a clown; he is
+      cunning and brave; and unless you judge him at his true value, your fabric
+      of schemes will fall ere it reaches its culmination. Could even you trick
+      him with words? No. You were compelled to use force. Is he not handsome,
+      Madame?&rdquo; with a feverish gaiety. &ldquo;Is there a gentleman at your court who
+      is a more perfect cavalier? Why, he blushes like a woman! Is there in your
+      court&mdash;&rdquo; But her sentence broke, and she could not go on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Elsa, are you mad?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Madame, yes; they call it a species of madness.&rdquo; Then, with a sudden
+      gust of wrath: &ldquo;Why did you not leave me in peace? You have destroyed me!
+      O, the shame of it!&rdquo; and she fled into her own room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame sat motionless. This, among other things, she had not reckoned on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Only the troopers and the servants slept in peace that night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice was up betimes next morning. The hills and valleys lay under a
+      mantle of sparkling rime, and the very air, keen of edge and whistling,
+      glistened in the sunlight. The iron shoes of the horses beat sharply on
+      the stone flooring of the court yard. Maurice examined his riding
+      furniture; pulled at the saddle, tugged at the rein buckles, lifted the
+      leather flaps and tried the stirrup straps. It was not that he doubted the
+      ability of the groom; it was because this particular care was second
+      nature to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitzgerald watched him, and meditated. Some of his thoughts were not
+      pleasant. His eyes were heavy. At times he would lift his shoulders and
+      permit half a smile to flicker over his lips; a certain thought caused
+      this. The Colonel sat astride a broad-chested cavalry horse, spotless
+      white. He was going to accompany Maurice to the frontier. He had imbibed
+      the exhilarating tonic of the morning, and his spirits ran high. At length
+      Maurice leaped into the saddle, caught the stirrups well, and signaled to
+      the Colonel that he was ready.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You understand, Maurice?&rdquo; Fitzgerald asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, John; all the world loves a lover. Besides, it is a glorious morning
+      for a ride. Up, portcullis, down drawbridge!&rdquo; waving his hand to the
+      Colonel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And away they went through the gateway, into the frosted road. Maurice
+      felt the spirit of some medieval ancestor creep into his veins and he
+      longed for an hour of the feudal days, to rescue a princess from some
+      dungeon-keep and to harry an over-lord. After all, she was a wonderful
+      woman, and Fitzgerald was only a man. To give up all for the love of woman
+      is the only sacrifice a man can make.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;En avant!&rdquo; cried the Colonel. &ldquo;A fine day, a fine day for the house of
+      Auersperg!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And a devilish bad one for the houses of Fitzgerald and Carewe. Woman's
+      ambition, coupled with her deceit, is the root of all evil; money is
+      simply an invention of man to protect himself from her encroachments. Eve
+      was ambitious and deceitful; all women are her daughters. When the pages
+      of history grow dull&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Time puts a maggot in my lady's brain,&rdquo; supplemented the Colonel. &ldquo;It is
+      like a row of dominoes. The power behind the throne, the woman behind the
+      power; an impulse moves the woman, and lo! how they clatter down. But
+      without woman, history would be poor reading. The greatest battles in the
+      world, could we but see behind, were fought for women. Men are but
+      footnotes, and unfortunately history is made up of footnotes. But it is a
+      fine thing to be a footnote; that is my ambition.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, if you but knew what a pleasure it is for an old man like me to have
+      a finger in the game time plays! To meddle with affairs, directly or
+      indirectly! Kingdoms are but judy shows, kings and queens but puppets; but
+      we who pull the strings&mdash;Ah, that is it! To play a game of chess with
+      crowns!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are exceptions; Madame seems to hold the strings in this instance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame follows my advice in all she does.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice opened his eyes at this statement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would you believe an old man like me could lay such a train? All this was
+      my idea. It was difficult to get Madame to agree with my views. War? I am
+      not afraid of it; I am suspicious of it. One day your friend returned a
+      personal letter of Madame's having written across it, `I laugh at you.' It
+      was very foolish. No man laughs at Madame more than once. She will, one
+      day, return this letter to him. A crown, a fine revenge, in one fell
+      swoop.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She will ruin him utterly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Utterly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you any idea what sort of man my friend is?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He lacks the polish of a man of affairs, and he surrenders too easily.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He will never surrender&mdash;Madame.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You remember his father; he will prove his father's son, every inch of
+      him. O, my Colonel, the curtain has only risen. One fine morning your
+      duchy will wake up without a duchess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you imply&mdash;an abduction?&rdquo; The Colonel laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is my secret.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the pretty countess?&rdquo; banteringly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was rather bad taste in Madame. It was putting love and patriotism to
+      questionable purposes. I am a gentleman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was out of consideration for you; Madame was not quite sure about you.
+      But you are right; all of it has rather a dark shade. You may rob a man of
+      his valuables and give them back; a broken word is not to be mended. Why
+      did you keep the hiding place so secret? I could have got those consols,
+      and all this would have been avoided.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How should I know where they were? It was none of my affair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are trusting you; I might have gone myself. You will return with the
+      treasure. Why have I not asked your word? Curiosity will bring you back;
+      curiosity. Besides this, you have an idea that with your presence about, a
+      flaw in the glass may be found. Yes, you will be back. History is to be
+      made; when you are old you will glance at the page and say: `Look there;
+      rather a pretty bit, eh? Well, I helped to make it; indeed, had it not
+      been for me and my curiosity it would not have been made at all.' Above
+      all things, do not stop to talk to veiled women.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a chuckling sound. &ldquo;I say, your Englishman is clever now and
+      then. In the gun barrels! Who would have looked for them there? But why
+      did he come himself? Why did he not trust to his bankers? Why did he not
+      turn over the affair to his representative, the British minister? There
+      were a hundred ways of averting the catastrophe. Why did he not use a
+      little fore-thought when he knew how anxious we were for his distinguished
+      person?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why does the moon rise at night and the sun at dawn? I am no Cumaean
+      Sybil. Perhaps it is the impulse which moves the woman behind the power
+      behind the throne; they call it fate. Had I been in his place I dare say I
+      should have followed his footsteps.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Not long after they arrived at the frontier where they were to separate,
+      to meet again under conditions disagreeable to both. The Colonel gave him
+      additional instructions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go; return as quickly as possible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never fear; I should not like to miss the finale to this opera bouffe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rail on, my son; call it by any name you please, only do not interrupt
+      the prompter;&rdquo; and with this the Colonel waved him an adieu.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice began the journey through the mountain pass, thinking and planning
+      and scheming. However he looked at the situation, the end was the same:
+      the Osians were doomed. If he himself played false and retained the
+      certificates until too late to be of benefit to the duchess, war would
+      follow; and the kingdom would be soundly beaten.... Would Prince Frederick
+      still hold to his agreement and marry her Royal Highness, however ill the
+      fortunes of war fared? There was a swift current of blood to his heart.
+      The Voiture-verse of a countess faded away.... Supposing Prince Frederick
+      withdrew his claims? Some day her Highness would be free; free, without
+      title or money or shelter. It was a wild dream. Was there not, when all
+      was said, a faint hope for his own affairs in the fall of Fitzgerald?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was lonely, friendless, personally known to few. Still, she would be
+      an Osian princess for all her misfortunes. But an Osian princess was not
+      so great that love might not possess her. Without royalty she would be
+      only a woman. What would Austria do; what would Austria say? If Austria
+      had placed Leopold on the throne, certainly it was to shut out the house
+      of Auersperg.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And who was this man Beauvais, who served one house openly and another
+      under the rose? Where had he met him before, and why did the thought of
+      him cause unrest? To rescue her somehow, to win her love, to see the glory
+      of the world light the heavens in her eyes! If the dream was mad, it was
+      no less pleasant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was a commoner; he had nothing in the world but his brain and his arm.
+      Fitzgerald, now, possessed a famous title and an ancient name. These kings
+      and princes hereabout could boast of but little more than he; and there
+      were millions to back him. He could dream of princesses and still be sane.
+      Maurice did not envy the Englishman's riches, but he coveted his right of
+      way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      How often had he indulged in vain but pleasant dreams! Even in the old
+      days he was always succoring some proud beauty in distress. Sometimes it
+      was at sea, sometimes in railroad wrecks, sometimes in the heart of
+      flames; but he was ever there, like a guardian angel. It was never the
+      same heroine, but that did not matter; she was always beautiful and rich,
+      high placed and lovable, and he never failed to brush aside all obstacles
+      that beset the path to the church door. He had dreamed of paladins, and
+      here at last was his long-sought opportunity&mdash;but he could do
+      nothing! He laughed. How many such romances lay beneath the banter and
+      jest of those bald bachelor diplomat friends of his? Had fate reserved him
+      for one of these?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was noon when he entered the city of Bleiberg. He went directly to his
+      hotel, where a bath and a change of clothes took the stiffness from his
+      limbs. He was in no great hurry to go to the Grand Hotel; there was plenty
+      of time. Happily there was no mail for him; he was not needed in Vienna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At two o'clock he set out for the lower town. On the way he picked up odd
+      ends of news. The king was rapidly sinking; he had suffered another
+      stroke, and was now without voice. There was unusual activity in the
+      barracks. The students of the university were committing mild
+      depredations, such as building bonfires, holding flambeau processions, and
+      breaking windows which contained the photographs of Prince Frederick of
+      Carnavia, who, strangely enough, was still wrapt in obscurity. When
+      Maurice entered the Grand Hotel he looked casually among the porters, but
+      the round-faced one was missing. He approached the desk. The proprietor
+      did not recognize him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, my friend,&rdquo; said Maurice, affably, as a visitors' book was pushed
+      forward, &ldquo;I am not going to sign. Instead, I wish to ask a favor. A week
+      ago a party of the king's troopers met upstairs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The proprietor showed signs of returning memory, together with a strange
+      agitation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There was a slight disturbance,&rdquo; went on Maurice, still using the affable
+      tone. &ldquo;Herr&mdash;ah&mdash;Hamilton, I believe&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The proprietor grew limp and yellow. &ldquo;I&mdash;I do not know where he is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do,&rdquo; replied Maurice. &ldquo;Don't you recognize me? Have I changed so since
+      I came here to doctor a sprained ankle?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You?&mdash;Before God, Herr, I was helpless; I had nothing to do with
+      it!&rdquo; terrified at the peculiar smile of the victim.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The key to this gentleman's room,&rdquo; was the demand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The key, and be quick about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The key came forth. &ldquo;You will say nothing, Herr; it would ruin my
+      business. It was a police affair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has any one been in this room since?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Herr; the key has been in my pocket.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is the porter who brought me here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was not a porter; he was with the police.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice passed up the stairs. He found the room in disorder, but a
+      disorder rather familiar to his eyes. He had been the cause of most of it.
+      Here was where he broke the baron's arm and thumped three others on the
+      head. It had been a good fight. Here was a hole in the wall where one of
+      the empty revolvers had gone&mdash;missing the Colonel's head by an inch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a smudge on the carpet made by the falling candles. He saw
+      Fitzgerald's pipe and picked it up. No; the chamber maid had not yet been
+      there. He went over to the bed, stared at it and shrugged. He raised the
+      mattress. There was the gun case. He drew it forth and took out the gun,
+      not, however, without a twist of his nerves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Four millions of crowns, a woman's love, the fall of one dynasty and the
+      rise of another, all wadded in those innocent looking gun barrels! He
+      hesitated for a space, then unlocked the breech and held the tubes toward
+      the window. There was nothing in the barrels, nothing but the golden
+      sunlight, which glinted along the polished steel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIV. QUI M'AIME, AIME MON CHIEN
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      On making this discovery Maurice was inclined to declaim in that vigorous
+      vocabulary which is taboo. He had been tricked. He was no longer needed at
+      the Red Chateau. Four millions in a gun barrel; hoax was written all over
+      the face of it, and yet he had been as unsuspicious as a Highland gillie.
+      Madame had tricked him; the countess had tricked him, the Colonel and
+      Fitzgerald.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That Madame had tricked him created no surprise; what irritated him most
+      was the conviction that Fitzgerald was laughing in his sleeve, and that he
+      had misjudged the Englishman's capacity for dissimulation. Very well. He
+      threw the gun on the bed; he took Fitzgerald's pipe from his pocket and
+      cast it after the gun, and with a gesture which placed all the contents of
+      the room under the ban of his anathema, he strode out into the corridor,
+      thence to the office.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here the message to Madame from Beauvais flashed back. The Colonel of the
+      royal cuirassiers had lied; he had found the certificates. But still there
+      was a cloud of mystery; to what use could Beauvais put them? He threw the
+      key to the landlord.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You lied to me when you said that no one had entered that room,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O, Herr, I told you that no one but the police had been in the room since
+      your departure. They made a search the next morning. Herr Hamilton was
+      suspected of being a spy of the duchy's. I could not interfere with the
+      police.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice saw that there was nothing to be got from the landlord, who was as
+      much in the dark as he. He passed into the street and walked without any
+      particular end in view. O, he would return to the Red Chateau, if only to
+      deliver himself of the picturesque and opinionated address on Madame. Once
+      he saw his reflection in a window glass, and he stopped and muttered at
+      it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh, bien, as Madame herself says, we develop with crises, and certainly
+      there is one not far distant. I never could write what I wish to say to
+      Madame; I'll go back to-morrow morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Situated between the university and the Grand Hotel on the left hand side
+      of the Konigstrasse, east, stood an historical relic of the days when
+      Austria, together with the small independent states, strove to shake off
+      the Napoleonic yoke. In those days students formed secret societies;
+      societies full of strange ritual, which pushed devotion to fanaticism,
+      which stopped at nothing, not even assassination. To exterminate the
+      French, to regain their ancestral privileges, to rescue their country from
+      its prostrate humiliation, many sacrificed their lives and their fortunes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Napoleon found no means of reaching these patriots, for they could not be
+      purchased. This convinced Napoleon of their earnestness, for he could buy
+      kings and princes. The students were invisible, implacable, and many a
+      brilliant officer of the imperial guard disappeared, never to return.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This historic relic of the Konigstrasse had been the headquarters of one
+      of the branches of these numerous societies; and the students still held
+      to those ancient traditions. But men and epochs pass swiftly; only the
+      inanimate remain. This temple of patriotism is simply an inn to-day, owned
+      by one Stuler, and is designated by those who patronize it as &ldquo;Old
+      Stuler's.&rdquo; It is the gathering place of the students. It consists of a
+      hall and a garden, the one facing the street, the other walled in at the
+      rear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The hall is made of common stone, bald and unadorned save by four dingy
+      windows and a tarnished sign, &ldquo;Garten,&rdquo; which hangs obliquely over the
+      entrance. At the curb stands a post with three lamps pendant; but these
+      are never lit because Old Stuler can keep neither wicks nor glass beyond
+      the reach of canes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Stuler was well versed in the peculiarities of students. In America
+      they paint statues; in Austria they create darkness. On warm, clear nights
+      the students rioted in the garden; when it rained, chairs and tables were
+      carried into the hall, which contained a small stage and a square gallery.
+      Never a night passed without its animated scene.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here it was that the evils of monarchical systems were discussed, the army
+      service, the lack of proper amusement, the restrictions at the stage
+      entrance to the opera; here it was that they concocted their exploits,
+      fought their duels, and planned means of outwitting Old Stuler's slate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Stuler was a good general; he could keep the students in order, watch his
+      assistants draw beer, the Rhine wine, and the scum (dregs of the cask,
+      muddy and strong), and eye the accumulating accounts on the slate. This
+      slate was wiped out once the month; that is to say, when remittances came
+      from home. The night following remittances was a glorious one both to
+      Stuler and the students. There were new scars, new subjects for debate,
+      and Stuler got rid of some of his prime tokayer. The politics of the
+      students was socialism, which is to say they were always dissatisfied.
+      Tourists seldom repeated their visits to Stuler's. There was too much
+      spilling of beer in laps, dumping of pipe ash into uncovered steins, and
+      knocking off of stiff hats.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was in front of Old Stuler's that Maurice came to a pause. He had heard
+      of the place and the praise of its Hofbrau and Munich beers. He entered.
+      He found the interior dark and gloomy, though outside the sun shone
+      brilliantly. He ordered a stein of Hofbrau, and carried it into the main
+      hall, which was just off the bar-room. It was much lighter here, though
+      the hall had the tawdry appearance of a theater in the day-time; and the
+      motes swam thickly in the beams of sunshine which entered through the
+      half-closed shutters. It was only at night that Stuler's was presentable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Scarcely a dozen men sat at the tables. In one corner Maurice saw what
+      appeared to be a man asleep on his arms, which were extended the width of
+      the table. It was the cosiest corner in the hall, and Maurice decided to
+      establish himself at the other side of the table, despite the present
+      incumbent. Noiselessly he crossed the floor and sat down. The light was at
+      his back, leaving his face in the shadow, but shone squarely on the
+      sleeper's head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not envy his headache when he wakes up,&rdquo; thought Maurice. He had
+      detected the vinous odor of the sleeper's breath. &ldquo;These headaches, while
+      they last, are bad things. I know; I've had 'em. I wonder,&rdquo; lifting the
+      stein and draining it, &ldquo;who the duffer was who said that getting drunk was
+      fun? His name has slipped my memory; no matter.&rdquo; He set down the stein and
+      banged the lid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sleeper stirred. &ldquo;Rich,&rdquo; he murmured; &ldquo;rich, rich! I'm rich! A hundred
+      thousand crowns!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My friend, I'm not in the position to dispute with you on that subject,&rdquo;
+       said Maurice, smiling. He rapped the stein again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sleeper raised his head and stared stupidly,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rich, aye, rich!&rdquo; He was still in half a dream. &ldquo;Rich, I say!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hang it, I'm not arguing on that,&rdquo; Maurice laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The other swung upright at this, his round, oily face sodden, his black
+      eyes blinking. He threw off the stupor when he saw that it was a man and
+      not the shadow of one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who the devil are you?&rdquo; he asked, thickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice seldom forgot a face. He recognized this one. &ldquo;Oho!&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;so
+      it's you, eh? I did not expect to meet you. Happily I had you in mind. You
+      are not employed at present as a porter at the Grand Hotel? So it is you,
+      my messenger!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who are you and what are you talking about? I don't know you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait a moment and I'll refresh your memory.&rdquo; Maurice theatrically thrust
+      a cigar between his teeth and struck a match. As the flame illumined his
+      features the questioner started. &ldquo;So you do not recognize me, eh? You
+      haven't the slightest remembrance of Herr Hamilton and his sprained ankle,
+      eh? Sit down or I'll break your head with this stein, you police spy!&rdquo;
+       dropping the bantering tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The other sat down, but he whistled sharply; and Maurice saw the dozen or
+      so rise from the other tables and come hurriedly in his direction. He
+      pushed back his chair and rose, his teeth firmly embedded in the cigar,
+      and waited.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's the trouble, Kopf?&rdquo; demanded the newcomers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This fellow accuses me of being a spy and threatens to break my head.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O! break your head, is it? Let us see. Come, brothers; out with this
+      fellow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice saw that they were about to charge him, and his hand went to his
+      hip pocket and rested on the butt of the revolver which the Colonel had
+      given him. &ldquo;Gentlemen,&rdquo; he said, quietly, &ldquo;I have no discussion with you.
+      I have a pistol in my pocket, and I'm rather handy with it. I desire to
+      talk to this man, and talk to him I will. Return to your tables; the
+      affair doesn't concern you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The intended assault did not materialize. They scowled, but retired a few
+      paces. They saw the movement toward the hip pocket, and they noted the
+      foreign twist of the tongue. Moreover, they did not like the angle of the
+      speaker's jaws. They shuffled, looked questioningly at one another, and,
+      as if all of a single mind, went slowly back to their chairs. Kopf grew
+      pale. Indeed, his pallor was out of all proportion with the affair, which
+      Maurice took to be no more than a comedy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brothers,&rdquo; he said, huskily, &ldquo;he will not dare.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you doubt it for a moment,&rdquo; interrupted Maurice, taking out the
+      revolver and fondling it. &ldquo;Any interference will mean one or more cases
+      for the hospital. Come, I'm not the police,&rdquo; to Kopf. &ldquo;I am not going to
+      hurt you. I wish only to ask you a few questions, which is my right after
+      what has passed between us. We'll go to my hotel, where we shan't be
+      disturbed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Together they left the hall. As they passed through the bar-room Stuler
+      looked questions, but refrained from asking them. Maurice put away the
+      revolver. As they went out into the street he drew Kopf's arm within his
+      own.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you want?&rdquo; asked Johann, savagely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;First. What is your place in this affair?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What affair?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The abduction.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had nothing to do with it, Herr, on my honor. I was only a porter, and
+      I supposed my errand was in good faith.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How about the gentle push you gave me when the door opened? My friend,
+      I'm no infant. Lies will do you no good. I know everything, and wish only
+      to verify. You are a police spy, in the employ of the duchess.&rdquo; Maurice
+      felt the arm draw, and bore down on it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I was, do you suppose I'd fool my time on this side of the Thalians?&rdquo;
+       Johann shrugged.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm not sure about that,&rdquo; said Maurice, puffing into Johann's face. &ldquo;When
+      cabinet ministers play spy, small fry like you will not cavil at the
+      occupation. And you are not in their pay?&rdquo; Johann glared. &ldquo;I want to
+      know,&rdquo; Maurice went on, &ldquo;what you know; what you know of Colonel Beauvais,
+      his plans, his messengers to the duchy, what is taking place underneath.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Johann's face cleared and a cunning light brightened his eyes. &ldquo;If that is
+      all you are after, I'll tell you. I'm a spy no longer; they have no more
+      use for me, despite their promises. I'll play them off for quits.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If that's all,&rdquo; repeated Maurice, &ldquo;what did you think I wanted to ask
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Johann bit his lip. &ldquo;I'm wanted badly by the chancellor, curse you, if you
+      must know. I thought he might be behind you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't worry about that,&rdquo; said Maurice, to whom this declaration seemed
+      plausible. &ldquo;We'll talk as we go along.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Johann loosened his tongue and poured into Maurice's ear a tale which,
+      being half a truth, had all the semblance of straightforwardness. What he
+      played for was time; to gain time and to lull his captor's suspicions.
+      Maurice was not familiar with the lower town; Johann was. A few yards
+      ahead there was an alley he knew, and once in it he could laugh at all
+      pursuit. It might be added that if Maurice knew but little of the lower
+      town, he knew still less about Johann.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly, in the midst of his narrative, Johann put his leg stiffly
+      between his enemy's and gave a mighty jerk with his arm, with the result
+      that Maurice, wholly unprepared, went sprawling to the pavement. He was on
+      his feet in an instant, but Johann was free and flying up the alley.
+      Maurice gave chase, but uselessly. Johann had disappeared. The alley was a
+      cul de sac, but was lined with doors; and these Maurice hammered to ease
+      his conscience. No one answered. Deeply disgusted with his lack of
+      caution, Maurice regained the street, where he brushed the dust from his
+      knees.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll take it out of his hide the next time we meet. He wasn't worth the
+      trouble, anyway.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A sybil might have whispered in his ear that a very large fish had escaped
+      his net, but Maurice continued, conscious of nothing save chagrin and a
+      bruised knee. He resumed the piecing together of events, or rather he
+      attempted to; very few pieces could be brought together. If Beauvais had
+      the certificates, what was his object in lying to Madame? What benefit
+      would accrue to him? After all, it was a labyrinth of paths which always
+      brought him up to the beginning. He drooped his shoulders dejectedly.
+      There was nothing left for him to do but return to the Red Chateau and
+      inform them of the fruitlessness of his errand. He would start on the
+      morrow. Tonight he wanted once more to hear the band, to wander about the
+      park, to row around the rear of the archbishop's garden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A fine thing to be born in purple&mdash;sometimes,&rdquo; he mused. &ldquo;I never
+      knew till now the inconveniences of the common mold.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He tramped on, building chateaux en Espagne. That they tumbled down did
+      not matter; he could rebuild in the space of a second, and each castle an
+      improvement on its predecessor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His attention was suddenly drawn away from this idle but pleasant pursuit.
+      In a side street he saw twenty or thirty students surging back and forth,
+      laughing and shouting and jostling. In the center of this swaying mass
+      canes rose and fell. It was a fight, and as he loved a fight, Maurice
+      pressed his hat firmly on his head and veered into the side street. He
+      looked around guiltily, and was thankful that no feminine eyes were near
+      to offer him their reproaches. He jostled among the outer circle, but
+      could see nothing. He stooped. Something white flashed this way and that,
+      accompanied by the sound of low growls. A dog fight was his first
+      impression, and he was on the point of leaving, for, while he secretly
+      enjoyed the sight of two physically perfect men waging battle, he had not
+      the heart to see two brutes pitted against each other, goaded on by brutes
+      of a lower caste. But even as he turned the crowd opened and closed, and
+      the brief picture was enough for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her dog! And the students were beating it because they knew it to be
+      defenseless. Her dog! toothless and old, who could not hold when his jaws
+      closed on an arm or leg, but who, with that indomitable courage of his
+      race, fought on and on, hopelessly and stubbornly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was covered with blood, one of his legs was hurt, but still the spirit
+      burned. It was cowardly. Maurice's jaws assumed a particularly ferocious
+      angle. Her dog! Rage choked him. With an oath he flung this student aside
+      and that, fought his way to the center. A burly student, armed with a
+      stout cane, was the principal aggressor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice doubled his fist and swung a blow which had one hundred and sixty
+      pounds behind it, and it landed squarely on the cheek of the student, who
+      dropped face downward and lay still. This onslaught was so sudden and
+      unexpected that the students were confounded. But Maurice, whose plans
+      crystallized in moments like these, picked up the cane and laid it about
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The students swore and yelled and stumbled over one another in their wild
+      efforts to dodge the vindictive cane. Maurice cleared a wide circle. The
+      dog, half blinded by his blood and not fully comprehending this new phase
+      in the tide of events, lunged at Maurice, who nimbly eluded him. Finally
+      the opportunity came. He flung the cane into the yelling pack, with his
+      left arm caught the dog about the middle, and leaped back into the nearest
+      doorway. The muscles of his left arm were sorely tried; the dog considered
+      his part in the fray by no means ended, and he tugged and yelped huskily.
+      With his right hand Maurice sought his revolver, cocked and leveled it.
+      There came a respite. The students had not fully recovered from their
+      surprise, and the yells sank into murmurs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You curs!&rdquo; said Maurice, panting. &ldquo;Shame on you! and an old dog that
+      can't defend himself! You knew he had no teeth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God save your Excellency!&rdquo; laughed a student in the rear, who had not
+      tasted the cane; &ldquo;you may be sure we knew he had no teeth or we wouldn't
+      have risked our precious calves. Don't let him scare you with the popgun,
+      comrades. At him, my brave ones; he will be more sport than the dog! Down
+      with the Osians, dogs, followers and all!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come on, then,&rdquo; said Maurice, whose fighting blood was at heat. &ldquo;Come on,
+      if you think it isn't over. There are six bullets in this popgun, and I
+      don't give a particular damn where they go. Come on!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Whether or not this challenge would have been accepted remains unwritten.
+      There now came on the air the welcome sound of galloping hoofs, and
+      presently two cuirassiers wheeled into the street. What Maurice had left
+      undone with the cane the cuirassiers completed with the flat of their
+      sabers. They had had a brush with the students the night before, and they
+      went at them as if determined to take both interest and principal. The
+      students dispersed like leaves in the wind&mdash;all save one. He rose to
+      his feet, his hands covering his jaw and a dazed expression in his eyes.
+      He saw Maurice with the revolver, the cuirassiers with their sabers, and
+      the remnant of his army flying to cover, and he decided to follow their
+      example. The scene had changed somewhat since he last saw it. He slunk off
+      at a zigzag trot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One of the cuirassiers dismounted, his face red from his exertions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh?&rdquo; closely scanning Maurice's white face. &ldquo;Well, well! is it you,
+      Monsieur Carewe?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lieutenant von Mitter?&rdquo; cried Maurice, dropping the dog, who by now had
+      grasped the meaning of it all. &ldquo;You came just in time!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They shook hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll lay odds that you put up a good fight,&rdquo; the Lieutenant said,
+      pleasantly. &ldquo;Curse these students! If I had my way I'd coop them all up in
+      their pest-hole of a university and blow them into eternity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And how did the dog come in this part of the town?&rdquo; asked Maurice,
+      picking up his hat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was with her Royal Highness. This is charity afternoon. She drives
+      about giving alms to the poor, and when she enters a house the dog stands
+      at the entrance to await her return. She came out of another door and
+      forgot the dog. Max there remembered him only when we were several blocks
+      away. A dozen or so of those rascally students stood opposite us when we
+      stopped here. It flashed on me in a minute why the dog did not follow us.
+      And we came back at a cut, leaving her Highness with no one but the groom.
+      Max, take the dog to her Highness, and tell her that it is Monsieur Carewe
+      who is to be thanked.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice blushed. &ldquo;Say nothing of my part in the fracas. It was nothing at
+      all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't be modest, my friend,&rdquo; said the cuirassier, laughing, while his
+      comrade dismounted, took the dog under his arm, and made off. &ldquo;This is one
+      chance in a lifetime. Her Royal Highness will insist on thanking you
+      personally. O, I know Mademoiselle's caprices. And there's your hat,
+      crushed all out of shape. Truly, you are unfortunate with your headgear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's felt,&rdquo; said Maurice, slapping it against his leg. &ldquo;No harm done to
+      the hat. Well, good day to you, Lieutenant, and thanks. I must be off.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay, nay!&rdquo; cried the Lieutenant. &ldquo;Wait a moment. `There is a tide in the
+      affairs of men, which, taken at the flood&mdash;' How does that line go? I
+      was educated in England and speak English as I do my mother tongue&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Won't you let me go?&rdquo; asked Maurice. &ldquo;Look at my clothes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You ought to be thankful that they are dry this time. Come; you'll have a
+      good story to carry back to Vienna. Princesses do not eat people.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ye gods, listen to that! One would think by the tone of your voice that
+      you wished they did!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no resisting this good humor; and Maurice wanted only an excuse
+      to wait. He sat down on the steps, sucked the knuckles of his hand, and
+      contemplated the grin on the cuirassier's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I like you,&rdquo; said the Lieutenant; &ldquo;I like your sangfroid. The palace is a
+      devil of a dull place, and a new face is a positive relief. I suppose you
+      know that affairs here are bad; no honesty anywhere. Everybody has his
+      hands tied. The students know this, and do as they please. Think of two
+      hundred gendarmes in the city, and an affair like this takes place without
+      one of them turning up!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I tell you frankly that it is all I can do to withhold the edge of my
+      saber when I meet those students. Last night they held a noisy flambeau
+      procession around the Hohenstaufenplatz, knowing full well that the king
+      had had another stroke and quiet was necessary. They would have waked the
+      dead. I have an idea that I forgot to use the flat of my sword; at least,
+      the hospital report confirms my suspicions. Ah, here comes Max.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Her Royal Highness desires to thank Monsieur Carewe, and commands that he
+      be brought to her carriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lieutenant von Mitter smiled, and Maurice stood up and brushed himself.
+      The troopers sprang into the saddle and started on a walk, with Maurice
+      bringing up behind on foot. The thought of meeting the princess, together
+      with his recent exertions, created havoc with his nerves. When he arrived
+      at the royal carriage, his usual coolness forsook him. He fumbled with his
+      hat, tongue-tied. He stood in the Presence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; said the Voice, &ldquo;I thank you with all my heart for your
+      gallant service. Poor, poor dog!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was nothing, your Highness; any man would have done the same thing.&rdquo;
+       The red in the wheel-spokes bothered his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no! you must not belittle it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If it had not been for Lieutenant von Mitter&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whither were you going, Monsieur?&rdquo; interrupted the Voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nowhere; that is, I was going toward my hotel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Continental?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, your Highness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Step into the carriage, Monsieur;&rdquo; the Voice had the ring of command. &ldquo;I
+      will put you down there. It is the least that I can do to show my
+      gratitude.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I to ride with your Highness?&rdquo; he stammered. &ldquo;O, no! I&mdash;that
+      is&mdash;it would scarcely be&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are not afraid of me, Monsieur?&rdquo; with a smile which, though it had a
+      bit of the rogue in it, was rather sad. She moved to the other side of the
+      seat and put the dog on the rug at her feet. &ldquo;Perhaps you are proud? Well,
+      Monsieur, I too am proud; so proud that I promise never to forgive you if
+      you refuse to gratify my wish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was not thinking of myself, your Highness, or rather I was. I am not
+      presentable. Look at me; my hat is out of shape, my clothes dusty, and I
+      dare say that my face needs washing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Presence replied to this remarkable defense with laughter, laughter in
+      which Maurice detected an undercurrent of bitterness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur Carewe, you are not acquainted with affairs in Bleiberg, or you
+      would know that I am a nobody. When I pass through the streets I attract
+      little attention, I receive no homage. Enter: I command it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If your Highness commands&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do command it,&rdquo; imperiously. &ldquo;And you would have pleased me more fully
+      if you had accepted the invitation and not obeyed the command.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I withdraw all objections,&rdquo; he said hastily, &ldquo;and accept the invitation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is better,&rdquo; the Voice said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice, still uncovered, sat down on the front seat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not there, Monsieur; beside me. Etiquette does not permit you to ride in
+      front of me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As he took the vacant place beside her he felt a fire in his cheeks. The
+      Voice and Presence were disquieting. As the groom touched the horses,
+      Maurice was sensible of her sleeve against his, and he drew away. The
+      Presence appeared unmindful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you recognize me?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, your Highness.&rdquo; He tried to remember what he had said to her that
+      day in the archbishop's garden. Two or three things came back and the
+      color remounted his cheeks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you forgotten what you said to me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I dare say I was impertinent,&rdquo; vaguely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, you have forgotten, then!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In all his life he never felt so ill at ease. To what did she refer? That
+      he would be proud to be her friend? That if the princess was as beautiful
+      as the maid he could pass judgment?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, you have forgotten. Do you not remember that you offered to be my
+      friend?&rdquo; She read him through and through, his embarrassment, the
+      tell-tale color in his cheeks. She laughed, and there was nothing but
+      youth in the laughter. &ldquo;Certainly you are afraid of me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I confess I am,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I can not remember all I said to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly she, too, remembered something, and it caused the red of the rose
+      to ripple from her throat to her eyes. &ldquo;Poor dog! Not that they hated him,
+      but because I love him!&rdquo; Tears started to her eyes. &ldquo;See, Monsieur Carewe;
+      princesses are human, they weep and they love. Poor dog! My playmate and
+      my friend. But for you they might have killed him. Tell me how it
+      happened.&rdquo; She knew, but she wanted to hear the story from his own lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His narrative was rather disjointed, and he slipped in von Mitter as many
+      times as possible, thinking to do that individual a good turn. Perhaps she
+      noticed it, for at intervals she smiled. During the telling he took out
+      his handkerchief, wiped the dog's head with it, and wound it tightly about
+      the injured leg. The dog knew; he wagged his tail.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      How handsome and brave, she thought, as she observed the face in profile.
+      Not a day had passed during the fortnight gone that she had not conjured
+      up some feature of that intelligent countenance; sometimes it had been the
+      eyes, sometimes the chin and mouth, sometimes the shapely head. It was
+      wrong; but this little sin was so sweet. She had never expected to see him
+      again. He had come and gone, and she had thought that the beginning and
+      the end. Ah, if only she were not a princess! If only some hand would
+      sweep aside those insurmountable barriers called birth and policy! To be
+      free, to be the mistress of one's heart, one's dreams, one's desires!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you did it all alone,&rdquo; she said, softly; &ldquo;all alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O, I had the advantage; I was not expected. It was all over before they
+      knew what had happened.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you had the courage to take a poor dog's part? Did you know whose dog
+      it was?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, your Highness, I recognized him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A secret gladness stole into her heart, and to cover the flame which again
+      rose to her cheeks, she bent and smoothed the dog's head. This gave
+      Maurice an opportunity to look at her. What a beautiful being she was! He
+      was actually sitting beside her, breathing the same air, listening to her
+      voice. She exhaled a delicate perfume such as incorporates itself in
+      persons of high degree and becomes a natural emanation, an incense vague
+      and indescribable. He felt that he was gazing on the culmination of youth,
+      beauty, and elegance... Yes, Fitzgerald was right. To beggar one's self
+      for love; honor and life, and all to the winds if only love remained.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Presently she straightened, and he centered his gaze on the back of the
+      groom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur, place your hat upon your head,&rdquo; smiling. &ldquo;We have entered the
+      Strasse, and I should not like to embarrass you with the attention of the
+      citizens.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He put on his hat. The impulse came to tell her all that he knew in regard
+      to the kingdom's affairs; but his voice refused its offices. Besides, it
+      was too late; the carriage was rolling into the Platz, and in a moment
+      more it drew up before the terrace of the Continental Hotel. Maurice
+      stepped out and bared his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This evening, Monsieur, at nine, I shall expect to see you at the
+      archbishop's reception to the corps diplomatique.&rdquo; A hand was extended
+      toward him. He did not know what to do about it. &ldquo;I am offering you my
+      hand to kiss, Monsieur Carewe; it is a privilege which I do not extend to
+      all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As he touched it to his lips, he was sure that a thousand pairs of eyes
+      were centered on him. The truth is, there were less than one hundred. It
+      was the first time in many months that the Crown Princess had stopped
+      before the Continental Hotel. To the guests it was an event; and some even
+      went as far as to whisper that the handsome young man was Prince
+      Frederick, incognito.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God save your Royal Highness,&rdquo; said Maurice, at loss for other words. He
+      released her hand and stepped back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Until this evening, then, Monsieur;&rdquo; and the royal barouche rolled away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who loves me, loves my dog,&rdquo; said Maurice, as he sped to his room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XV. IN WHICH FORTUNE BECOMES CARELESS AND PRODIGAL
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      On the night prior to the arrival of Maurice in Bleiberg, there happened
+      various things of moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At midnight the chancellor left the palace, after having witnessed from a
+      window the meeting of the cuirassiers and the students, and sought his
+      bed; but his sleep was burdened with troubled dreams. The clouds, lowering
+      over his administration, thickened and darkened. How many times had he
+      contemplated resigning his office, only to put aside the thought and toil
+      on?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Defeat in the end was to be expected, but still there was ever that star
+      of hope, a possible turn in affairs which would carry him on to victory.
+      Victory is all the sweeter when it seems impossible. Prince Frederick had
+      disappeared, no one knew where, the peasant girl theory could no longer be
+      harbored, and the wedding was but three days hence. The Englishman had not
+      stepped above the horizon, and the telegrams to the four ends of the world
+      returned unanswered. Thus, the chancellor stood alone; the two main props
+      were gone from under. As he tossed on his pillows he pondered over the
+      apparent reticence and indifference of the archbishop.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All was still in the vicinity of the palaces. Sentinels paced noiselessly
+      within the enclosures. In the royal bedchamber the king was resting
+      quietly, and near by, on a lounge, the state physician dozed. The Captain
+      of the household troop of cuirassiers nodded in the ante-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Only the archbishop remained awake. He sat in his chamber and wrote. Now
+      and then he would moisten his lips with watered wine. Sometimes he held
+      the pen in midair, and peered into the shapeless shadows cast by the
+      tapers, his broad forehead shining and deep furrows between his eyes. On,
+      on he wrote. Perhaps the archbishop was composing additional pages to his
+      memoirs, for occasionally his thin lips relaxed into an impenetrable
+      smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was little quiet in the lower town, especially in the locality of
+      the university. Old Stuler's was filled with smoke, students and tumult.
+      Ill feeling ran high. There were many damaged heads, for the cuirassiers
+      had not been niggard with their sabers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A student walked backward and forward on the stage, waving wildly with his
+      hands to command attention. It was some time before he succeeded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fellow-students, brothers of freedom and comrades,&rdquo; he began. &ldquo;All this
+      must come to an end, and that at once. Our personal liberty is endangered.
+      Our rights are being trodden under foot. Our ancient privileges are being
+      laughed at. It must end.&rdquo; This declaration was greeted by shouts, sundry
+      clattering of pewter lids and noisy rappings of earthenware on the tables.
+      &ldquo;Have we no rights as students? Must we give way to a handful of beggarly
+      mercenaries? Must we submit to the outlawing of our customs and
+      observances? What! We must not parade because the king does not like to be
+      disturbed? And who are the cuirassiers?&rdquo; Nobody answered. Nobody was
+      expected to answer. &ldquo;They are Frenchmen of hated memory&mdash;Swiss,
+      Prussians, with Austrian officers. Are we or are we not an independent
+      state? If independent, shall we stand by and see our personal liberties
+      restricted? No! I say no!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let us petition to oust these vampires, who not only rob us of our
+      innocent amusements, but who are fed by our taxes. What right had Austria
+      to dictate our politics? What right had she to disavow the blood and give
+      us these Osians? O, my brothers, where are the days of Albrecht III of
+      glorious memory? He acknowledged our rights. He was our lawful sovereign.
+      He understood and loved us.&rdquo; This burst of sentiment was slightly
+      exaggerative, if the history of that monarch is to be relied on; but the
+      audience was mightily pleased with this recollection. It served to add to
+      their distemper and wrath against the Osian puppet. &ldquo;And where are our own
+      soldiers, the soldiers of the kingdom? Moldering away in the barracks,
+      unnoticed and forgotten. For the first time in the history of the country
+      foreigners patrol the palaces. Our soldiers are nobodies. They hold no
+      office at court save that of Marshal, and his voice is naught. Yet the
+      brunt of the soldier's life falls on them. They watch at the frontiers,
+      tireless and vigilant, while the mercenaries riot and play. Brothers, the
+      time has come for us to act. The army is with us, and so are the citizens.
+      Let ours be the glory of touching the match. We are brave and competent.
+      We are drilled. We lack not courage. Let us secretly arm and watch for the
+      opportunity to strike a blow for our rights. Confusion to the Osians, and
+      may the duchess soon come into her own!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He jumped from the stage, and another took his place; the haranguing went
+      on. The orators were serious and earnest; they believed themselves to be
+      patriots, pure and simple, when in truth they were experiencing the same
+      spirit of revolt as the boy whose mother had whipped him for making an
+      unnecessary noise, or stealing into the buttery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While the excitement was at its height, a man, somewhat older than the
+      majority of the students, entered the bar-room from the street, and
+      lounged heavily against the railing. His clothes were soiled and wrinkled,
+      blue circles shadowed his eyes, which were of dull jet, the corners of his
+      mouth drooped dejectedly, and his oily face, covered with red stubble,
+      gave evidences of a prolonged debauch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wine, Stuler, wine!&rdquo; he called, laying down a coin, which gleamed dimly
+      yellow in the opalescent light. &ldquo;And none of your devilish vinegars and
+      scums.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Stuler pounced on the coin and rubbed it between his palms. &ldquo;Gold, Johann,
+      gold?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye, gold; and the last of a pocketful, curse it! What's this noise
+      about?&rdquo; with a gesture, toward the hall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The boys were in the Platz and had a brush with those damned cuirassiers.
+      They'll play a harder game yet.&rdquo; Stuler always took sides with the
+      students, on business principles; they constituted his purse. &ldquo;Tokayer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; champagne. Aye, these damned cuirassiers shall play a hard game ere
+      the week is done, or my name is not Johann Kopf. They kicked me out of the
+      palace grounds yesterday; me, me, me!&rdquo; hammering the oak with his fist.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Von Mitter, the English-bred dog! I'll kill him one of these days. Is it
+      play to-night, or are they serious?&rdquo; nodding again toward the hall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go in,&rdquo; said Stuler, &ldquo;and look at some of those heads; a look will answer
+      the purpose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Johann followed this advice. The picture he saw was one which agreed with
+      the idea that had come into his mind. He returned to the bar-room. and
+      drank his wine thirstily, refilled the glass and emptied it. Stuler shook
+      his head. Johann was in a bad way when he gulped wine instead of sipping
+      it. Yet it was always so after a carouse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where have you been keeping yourself the past week?&rdquo; he asked. If the
+      students were his purse, Johann was his budget of news.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You ask that?&rdquo; surlily. &ldquo;You knew I had money; you knew that I was off
+      somewhere spending it&mdash;God knows where, I don't. Another bottle of
+      wine. There's enough left from the gold to pay for it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Stuler complied. Johann's thirst seemed in no way assuaged; but soon the
+      sullen expression, the aftermath of his spree, was replaced by one of
+      reckless jollity. His eyes began to sparkle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A great game, Stuler; they're playing a great game, and you and I will be
+      in at the reaping. The town is quiet, you say? The troops have ceased
+      murmuring, eh? A lull that comes before the storm. And when it breaks&mdash;and
+      break it will!&mdash;gay times for you and me. There will be sacking. I
+      have the list of those who lean toward the Osians. There will be loot, old
+      war dog!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Stuler smiled indulgently; Johann was beginning to feel the wine. Perhaps
+      he was to learn something. &ldquo;Yes, 'twill be a glorious day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A week hence, and the king goes forth a bankrupt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If he lives,&rdquo; judiciously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dead or alive, it matters not which; he goes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the wedding? What is it I hear about Prince Frederick and the peasant
+      girl?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Johann laughed. &ldquo;There will be no wedding.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the princess?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A pretty morsel, a tidbit for the king that is to be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The king that&mdash;eh, Johann, are you getting drunk so soon?&rdquo; Stuler
+      exclaimed. &ldquo;I know of no king&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Johann reached over and caught the innkeeper's wrist. The grasp was no
+      gentle one. &ldquo;Listen, that was a slip of the tongue. Repeat it, and that
+      for your life! Do you understand, my friend?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gott in&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you understand?&rdquo; fiercely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes!&rdquo; Stuler wiped his face with his apron.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good, if you understand. It was naught but a slip of the tongue,&rdquo;
+       nonchalantly. &ldquo;In a little week, my friend, your till will have no vulgar
+      silver in it; gold, yellow gold.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the duchess?&rdquo; with hesitance. The budget of news to-night was not of
+      the usual kind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Johann did not answer, save by a shrug.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The perturbation of the old man was so manifestly beyond control that he
+      could not trust his legs. He dropped on the stool, giving his grizzled
+      head a negative shake. &ldquo;I would that you had made no slip of the tongue,
+      Johann,&rdquo; he murmured. &ldquo;Gott, what is going on? The princess was not to
+      wed, to be sure, but the duchess passed&mdash;a king besides&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Silence!&rdquo; enjoined Johann. &ldquo;Stuler, I am about to venture on a daring
+      enterprise, which, if successful, will mean plenty of gold. Come with me
+      into your private office, where we shall not be interrupted nor
+      overheard.&rdquo; He vaulted the bar. Stuler looked undecided. &ldquo;Come!&rdquo; commanded
+      Johann. With another shake of his head Stuler took down the tallow dip,
+      unlocked the door, and bade Johann pass in. He caught up another bottle
+      and glass and followed. Without a word he filled the glass and set it down
+      before Johann, who raised it and drank, his beady eyes flashing over the
+      rim of the glass and compelling the innkeeper to withdraw his gaze.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; said Stuler, uneasily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I need you.&rdquo; Johann finished his glass with moderate slowness. &ldquo;Your
+      storehouse on the lake is empty?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, but&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall want it, two nights from this, in case Madame the duchess does
+      not conquer the Englishman. I shall want two fellows who will ask no
+      questions, but who will follow my instructions to the letter. It is an
+      abduction.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A nasty business,&rdquo; was Stuler's comment. &ldquo;You have women to thank for
+      your present occupation, Johann.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stuler, you are a fool. It is not a woman; it is a crown.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh?&rdquo; Stuler's eyes bulged.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A crown. The duchess may remain a duchess. Who is master in Bleiberg
+      to-day? At whose word the army moves or stands? At whose word the Osians
+      fall or reign? On whom does the duchess rely? Who is king in deed, if not
+      in fact? Who will find means to liquidate the kingdom's indebtedness,
+      whoever may be the creditor? Pah! the princess may marry, but the groom
+      will not be Prince Frederick. The man she will marry will be the husband
+      of a queen, and he will be a king behind a woman's skirts. It is what the
+      French call a coup d'etat. She will be glad to marry; there is no
+      alternative. She will submit, if only that her father may die in peace.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And this king?&rdquo; in a whisper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are old, Stuler; you remember many things of the past. Do you
+      recollect a prince of a noble Austrian house by the name of Walmoden, once
+      an aide to the emperor, who was cashiered from the army and exiled for
+      corresponding with France?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Stuler's hand shook as he brushed his forehead. &ldquo;Yes, I recollect. He
+      fought against the Prussians in the Franco-Prussian war, then disappeared,
+      to be heard of again as living in a South American republic. But what has
+      he to do with all this? Ah, Johann, this is deep water.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For those who have not learned to swim. You will aid me? A thousand
+      crowns&mdash;two hundred pieces of gold like that which has just passed
+      from my pocket into yours. It is politics.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But the sacking of the town?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A jest. If Madame the duchess conquers the Englishman, the king that is
+      to be will pay her. Then, if she wages war Austria can say nothing for
+      defending ourselves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Walmoden?&rdquo; Stuler struck his forehead with his fist as if to pound it
+      into a state of lucidity. &ldquo;Where is he? It is a stone wall; I can see
+      nothing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Beauvais.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Beauvais!&rdquo; Stuler half rose from his chair, but sank again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly. This play, for some reason unexplained, is the price of his
+      reestablishment into the graces of the noble Hapsburgs. Between us, I
+      think the prince is playing a game for himself. But who shall blame him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The devil! I thought Austria was very favorable to the Osian house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Favorable or not, it is nothing to us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, well, it's a thousand crowns,&rdquo; philosophically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's the sentiment,&rdquo; laughed Johann. &ldquo;It is not high treason, it is not
+      lese majeste; it is not a crime; it is a thousand crowns. Votre sante, as
+      the damned French say!&rdquo; swallowing what was left of the wine. &ldquo;And then,
+      it is purely patriotic in us,&rdquo; with a deceitful smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The storehouse is yours, and the men. Now tell me how 'tis to be played.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where does her Royal Highness go each Thursday evening, accompanied by
+      her eternal cuirassiers, von Mitter and Scharfenstein?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where but to see her old nurse Elizabeth? But two men will not be enough.
+      Von Mitter and Scharfenstein&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will as usual remain at the carriage. But what's to prevent the men from
+      gaining entrance by the rear?&mdash;carrying off her Highness that way,
+      passing through the alley and making off, to be a mile away before the
+      cuirassiers even dream of the attempt?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After all, I'd rather the duchess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We can not all be kings and queens.&rdquo; Johann got up and slapped Stuler
+      familiarly on the shoulder. &ldquo;Forget not the gold, the yellow gold; little
+      heaps of it to finger, to count, and to spend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Stuler's eyes gleamed phosphorescently. There was the strain of the
+      ancient marauder in his veins; gold easily gotten. He opened the door, and
+      Johann passed out, swaying. The wine was taking hold of him. He turned
+      into the hall, while Stuler busied himself with the spigots. Some one
+      discovered the spy, and called him by name; it was caught up by others,
+      and there were numerous calls for a speech.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As a socialist Johann was well known about the lower town. Besides, five
+      years gone, he himself had been a student and a brother of freedom. He had
+      fought a dozen successful duels, and finally had been expelled from the
+      university for beating a professor who had objected to his conduct in the
+      presence of ladies. Other ill reports added to his popularity. To be
+      popular in this whimsical world of ours, one has either to be very good or
+      very bad. Johann was not unwilling to speak. Stuler had given him the cue;
+      the cuirassiers. His advice was secretly to arm and hold in readiness. As
+      this was the substance of the other speeches, Johann received his meed of
+      applause.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And let us not forget the bulldog; let us kill him, too,&rdquo; cried one of
+      the auditors; &ldquo;the prodigal bulldog, who has lived on our fatted calves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This was unanimously adopted. The bulldog was not understood; and he
+      smacked of the English. Then, too, the bulldog roamed too freely in the
+      royal enclosures; and, until late years, trespassers fared badly. The
+      students considered that their privileges extended everywhere; the dog,
+      not being conversant with these privileges, took that side which in law is
+      called the benefit of a doubt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After his speech Johann retired to the bar-room. What he desired most of
+      all was a replenished purse. Popular he was; but the students knew his
+      failings, among which stood prominently that of a forgetful borrower. They
+      would buy him drinks, clothes and food, if need be, but they would not
+      lend him a stiver. And he could not borrow from Stuler, whose law was only
+      to trust. Johann gambled, and wine always brought back the mad fever for
+      play. The night before he had lost rather heavily, and he wanted to
+      recover his losses. Rouge-et-noir had pinched him; he would be revenged on
+      the roulette. All day long combinations and numbers danced before his
+      eyes. He had devised several plans by which to raise money, but these had
+      fallen through. Suddenly he smiled, and beckoned to Stuler.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stuler, how much will you advance me,&rdquo; he asked, &ldquo;on a shotgun worth one
+      hundred crowns?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A shotgun worth one hundred crowns? Ten.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Johann made a negative gesture. &ldquo;Fifty or none. You can sell it for
+      seventy-five in the morning. So could I, only I want the money to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you want wine&mdash;&rdquo; began Stuler.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Stuler scratched his nose. &ldquo;Bring the gun to me. If it is worth what you
+      say, I'll see what I can do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In an hour;&rdquo; and Johann went out. A cold thin rain was falling, and a
+      dash of it in the face had a cooling effect. Somehow, the exhilaration of
+      the wine was gone, and his mood took a sullen turn. Money! he was ever in
+      need of money. He cursed his ill luck. He cursed the cause of it&mdash;drink.
+      But for drink he would not have been plain Johann Kopf, brawler, outcast,
+      spy, disowned by his family and all save those who could use him. He
+      remained standing in the doorway, brooding.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At last he drew his collar about his throat and struck off, a black shadow
+      in a bank of gray. When he reached that part of the street opposite the
+      Grand Hotel, he stopped and sought shelter under an awning. The night
+      patrol came clattering down the street. It passed quickly, and soon all
+      was still again. Johann stepped out and peered up and down. The street was
+      deserted. All the hotel windows were in gloom, save a feeble light which
+      beamed from the office windows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Would it be robbery? He had not yet stooped to that. But he could hear the
+      ivory ball clatter as it fell into the lucky numbers. He had a premonition
+      that he would win if he stuck to a single combination. He would redeem the
+      gun, replace it, and no one would be any the wiser. If his numbers failed
+      him..... No matter. He determined to cross the Rubicon. He traversed the
+      street and disappeared into the cavernous alley, shortly to loom up in the
+      deserted courtyard of the hotel. He counted the windows on the first floor
+      and stopped at the fourth. That was the window he must enter. Noiselessly
+      he crept along the walls, stopping now and then to listen. There was no
+      sound except the monotonous dripping of the rain, which was growing
+      thinner and colder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Presently he came across the ladder he was seeking. He raised it to the
+      required height, and once more placed his hand to his ear. Silence. He
+      mounted the rounds to the window, which he found unfastened. In another
+      moment he was in the room. Not an object could he see, so deep was the
+      darkness. If he moved without light he was likely to stumble, and heydey
+      to his fifty crowns, not to say his liberty for many days to come. He
+      carefully drew the blinds and struck a match. The first object which met
+      his gaze was a fallen candle. This he lit and when the glare of the flame
+      softened, all the corners of the room stood out. Nowhere was there any
+      sign of a gun. He gave vent to a half-muttered curse. Some one had
+      pilfered the gun, or the proprietor was keeping it until the Englishman
+      returned from the duchy. But he remembered that there were two guns, one
+      of which the Englishman did not use in the hunting expeditions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So he began a thorough search. It meant fifty crowns, green baize and the
+      whims of fortune. Cautiously he moved between the fallen chairs. He looked
+      behind the bed, under the dresser, but without success. His hand closed
+      savagely around the candle, and he swore inaudibly. He threw back the bed
+      coverings, not that he expected to find anything, but because he could
+      vent his rage on these silent, noiseless things. When he lifted the
+      mattress it was then he took a deep breath and smiled. What he saw was a
+      gun case. He drew it from under. It was heavy; his fifty crowns were
+      inside. Next he picked up a candlestick and stuffed the candle into it,
+      and laid a quilt against the threshold of the door so that no light would
+      pierce the corridor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is the gun the Englishman did not use in the hunting expeditions,&rdquo;
+       he thought. &ldquo;If it is out of repair, as he said it was, my fifty crowns
+      are not so many pfennige. The devil! it must be a valuable piece of
+      gunsmithing, to hide it under the bedclothes. Let me see if my crowns are
+      for the picking.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He investigated forthwith. The hammers and the triggers worked smoothly.
+      He unlocked the breech and held the nozzles toward the candle light&mdash;and
+      again cursed. The barrels were clogged up. Notwithstanding, he plucked
+      forth the cleaning-rod and forced it into one of the tubes. There was a
+      slight resistance, and something fluttered to the floor and rolled about.
+      The second tube was treated likewise, with the same result. Johann laughed
+      silently. The fifty crowns were tangible; he could hear them jingling in
+      his pocket, and a pretty music they made. He returned the leather case to
+      its original place and devoted his attention to the cylinder-shaped papers
+      on the floor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a quarter of an hour Johann remained seated on the floor, in the
+      wavering candle light, forgetful of all save the delicate tracings of
+      steel engraving, the red and green inks, the great golden seal, the
+      signatures, the immensity of the ciphers which trailed halfway across each
+      crackling parchment. He counted sixteen of them in all. Four millions of
+      crowns.... He was rich, rich beyond all his wildest dreams.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He rose, and restored the gun to its case. Fifty crowns? No, no! A hundred
+      thousand, not a crown less; a hundred thousand! all thoughts of the green
+      baize and the rattle of the roulette ball passed away. There was no need
+      to seek fortune; she had come to him of her own free will. Wine, Gertrude
+      of the opera, Paris and a life of ease; all these were his. A hundred
+      thousand crowns, a hundred thousand florins, two hundred thousand francs,
+      two hundred thousand marks! He computed in all monetary denominations; in
+      all countries it was wealth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Something rose and swelled in his throat, and he choked hysterically. A
+      voice whispered &ldquo;No, not a hundred thousand; four millions!&rdquo; But reason,
+      though it tottered, regained its balance, and he saw the utter futility of
+      attempting to dispose of the orders on the government independently. His
+      hands trembled; he could scarcely hold this vast treasure. Twice, in his
+      haste to pocket the certificates, they slipped from his grasp and
+      scattered. How those six syllables frolicked in his mind! A hundred
+      thousand crowns!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He extinguished the candle and laid it on the floor, put the quilt on the
+      bed, then climbed through the window, which he closed without mishap. He
+      descended the ladder. As he reached the bottom round his heart gave a
+      great leap. From the alley came the sound of approaching steps. Nearer and
+      nearer they came; a shadow entered the courtyard and made straight for the
+      door, which was but a few feet from the reclining ladder. The kitchen door
+      opened and the burst of light revealed a belated serving maid. A moment
+      passed, and all became dark again. But Johann felt a strange weakness in
+      his knees, and a peculiar thrill at the roots of his hair. He dared not
+      move for three or four minutes. But he waited in vain for other steps. He
+      cursed the serving maid for the fright, disposed of the ladder, and sought
+      the street. He directed his steps toward Stuler's.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The pig of an Englishman was deeper than I thought. In the gun barrels,
+      the gun barrels! If I had not wanted to play they would have been there
+      yet! A hundred thousand crowns!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It had ceased to rain, and a frost was congealing the moisture under foot.
+      On the way back to Stuler's Johann slipped and fell several times; but he
+      was impervious to pain, bruises were nothing. He was rich! He laughed; and
+      from time to time thrust his hand into his vest to convince himself that
+      he was not dreaming. To whom should he sell? To the Osians? To the
+      duchess? To the king that was to be? Who would pay quickest the hundred
+      thousand crowns? He knew. Aye, two hundred thousand would not be too much.
+      The Englishman would send for the certificates, but his agent would not
+      find them. The abduction? He would carry it through as he had promised. It
+      was five thousand crowns in addition to his hundred thousand. He was rich!
+      He shook his hand toward the inky sky, toward the palace, toward all that
+      signified the past..... A hundred thousand crowns!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVI. WHAT HAPPENED AT THE ARCHBISHOP'S PALACE AND AFTER
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Maurice, as he labored before his mirror, wondered why in the world it
+      took him so long to dress. An hour had passed since he began his evening
+      toilet; yet here he was, still tinkering, so to speak, over the last of a
+      dozen cravats. The eleven others lay strewn about, hopelessly crumpled;
+      mute witnesses of angry fingers and impassioned mutterings. Usually he
+      could slip into his evening clothes in less than thirty minutes. Something
+      was wrong. But perhaps this occasion was not usual.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      First, the hems of his trousers were insurgent; they persisted in hitching
+      on the tops of his button shoes. Laces were substituted. Then came a
+      desultory period, during which gold buttons were exchanged for pearl and
+      pearl for gold, and two-button shirts for three-button. For Maurice was
+      something of a dandy. He could not imagine what was the matter with his
+      neck, all the collars seemed so small. For once his mishaps did not appeal
+      to his humor. The ascent from his shoes to his collar was as tortuous as
+      that of the alpine Jungfrau.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ah, Madam, you may smile as much as you please, but it is a terrible thing
+      for a man to dress and at the same time think kindly of his fellow-beings.
+      You set aside three hours for your toilet, and devote two hours to the
+      little curl which droops over the tip of your dainty ear; but with a man
+      who has no curl, who knows nothing of the practice of smiles and side
+      glances, the studied carelessness of a pose, it is a dismal, serious
+      business up to the last moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With a final glance into the mirror, and convinced that if he touched
+      himself it would be only to disarrange the perfection which he had striven
+      so hard to attain, Maurice went down stairs. He had still an hour to while
+      away before presenting himself at the archbishop's palace. So he roamed
+      about the verandas, twirled his cane, and smoked like a captain who
+      expects to see his men in active engagement the very next moment. This,
+      together with the bad hour in his room, was an indication that his nerves
+      were finely strung.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was nervous, not because he was to see strange faces, not because his
+      interest in the kingdom's affairs was both comic and tragic, nor because
+      he was to present himself at the archbishop's in a peculiar capacity, that
+      of a prisoner on parole. No, it was due to none of these. His pulse did
+      not stir at the prospect of meeting the true king. Diplomatic functions
+      were every-day events with him. He had passed several years of his life in
+      the vicinity of emperors, kings, viceroys, and presidents, and their
+      greatness had long ago ceased to interest or even to amuse him. He was
+      conscious only of an agitation which had already passed through the
+      process of analysis. He loved, he loved the impossible and the
+      unattainable, and it was the exhilaration of this thought that agitated
+      him. He never would be the same again&mdash;he would be better. Neither
+      did he regret this love.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Even now he could see himself back in his rooms in Vienna, smoking before
+      the fire, and building castles that tumbled down. It was worth while, if
+      only to have something to dream about. He did not regret the love, he
+      regretted its futility. How could he serve her? What could he do against
+      all these unseen forces which were crumbling her father's throne? So she
+      remembered what he had said to her in the archbishop's garden? He looked
+      at his watch. It was nine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let us be off,&rdquo; he said. He started for the Platz. &ldquo;How uncertain life
+      is. It seems that I did not come to Bleiberg carelessly in the way of
+      amusement, but to work out a part of my destiny.&rdquo; He arrested his steps at
+      the fountain and listened to the low, musical plash of the water, each
+      drop of which fell with the light of a dazzling jewel. The cold stars
+      shone from above. They were not farther away than she. A princess, a
+      lonely and forlorn princess, hemmed in by the fabric of royal laws; a
+      princess yet possessing less liberty than the meanest of her peasants.
+      Nothing belonged to her, not even her heart, which was merchandise, a
+      commodity of exchange, turned over to the highest bidder. &ldquo;Royalty,&rdquo; he
+      mused, &ldquo;is a political slave-dealer; the slaves are those who wear the
+      crowns.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Once inside the palace, he became a man of the world, polished,
+      nonchalant, handsome, and mildly curious. Immediately after the usher
+      announced his name, he crossed the chamber and presented his respects to
+      the prelate, who, he reasoned not unwisely, expected him. The friendly
+      greeting of the archbishop confirmed this reasoning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am delighted to see you, Monsieur,&rdquo; he said, showing his remarkably
+      well preserved teeth in the smile that followed his words. &ldquo;A service to
+      her Royal Highness is a service to me. Amuse yourself; you will find some
+      fine paintings in the west gallery.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I trust her Royal Highness is none the worse for the fright,&rdquo; Maurice
+      replied. He also remarked (mentally) that he did not see her Highness
+      anywhere. Several introductions followed, and he found himself chatting
+      with the British minister.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Carewe?&rdquo; the Englishman repeated thoughtfully. &ldquo;Are you not Maurice
+      Carewe, of the American Legation in Vienna?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May I ask you a few questions?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A thousand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A fellow-countryman of mine has mysteriously disappeared. He left Vienna
+      for Bleiberg, saying that if nothing was heard of him within a week's
+      time, to make inquiries about him. This request was left with the British
+      ambassador, who has just written me, adding that a personal friend of the
+      gentleman in question was in Bleiberg, and that this friend was Maurice
+      Carewe, attache to the American Legation. Are you acquainted with Lord
+      Fitzgerald, son of my late predecessor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am indeed. I saw him in Vienna,&rdquo; said Maurice; &ldquo;but he said nothing to
+      me about coming here,&rdquo; which was true enough. &ldquo;Is there any cause for
+      apprehension?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only his request to be looked up within a certain time. The truth is, he
+      was to have come here on a peculiar errand,&rdquo; with lowered voice. &ldquo;Did you
+      ever hear of what is called 'Fitzgerald's folly?'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; few haven't heard of it.&rdquo; Maurice could never understand why he
+      resisted the impulse to tell the whole affair. A dozen words to the man at
+      his side, and the catastrophes, even embryonic, would be averted. &ldquo;You
+      must tell me who most of these people are,&rdquo; he said, in order to get
+      around a disagreeable subject. &ldquo;I am a total stranger.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With pleasure. That tall, angular old man, in the long, gray frock, with
+      decorations, is Marshal Kampf. You must meet him; he is the wittiest man
+      in Bleiberg. The gentleman with the red beard is Mollendorf of the police.
+      And beside him&mdash;yes, the little man with glasses and a loose cravat&mdash;is
+      Count von Wallenstein, the minister of finance. That is the chancellor
+      talking to the archbishop. Ah, Mr. Carewe, these receptions are fine
+      comedies. The Marshal, the count and Mollendorf represent what is called
+      the Auersperg faction under the rose. It is a continual battle of eyes and
+      tongues. One smiles at his enemy, knows him to be an enemy, yet dares not
+      touch him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Confidentially, this play has never had the like. To convict his enemies
+      of treason has been for ten years the labor of the chancellor; yet, though
+      he knows them to be in correspondence with the duchess, he can find
+      nothing on the strength of which to accuse openly. It is a conspiracy
+      which has no papers. One can not take out a man's brains and say, `Here is
+      proof!' They talk, they walk on thin ice; but so fine is their craft that
+      no incautious word ever falls, nor does any one go through the ice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have watched the play for ten years. I should not speak to you about
+      it, only it is one of those things known to all here. Those gentlemen
+      talking to the chancellor's wife are the ministers from Austria, Prussia,
+      France, and Servia. You will not find it as lively here as it is in
+      Vienna. We meet merely to watch each other,&rdquo; with a short laugh. &ldquo;Good.
+      The Marshal is approaching.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They waited.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marshal,&rdquo; said the minister, &ldquo;this is Monsieur Carewe, who rescued her
+      Highness's dog from the students.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; replied the Marshal, grimly. &ldquo;Do not expect me to thank you,
+      Monsieur; only day before yesterday the dog snapped at my legs. I am
+      living out of pure spite, to see that dog die before I do. Peace to his
+      ashes&mdash;the sooner the better.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The minister turned to Maurice and laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh!&rdquo; said the Marshal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I prophesied that you would speak disparagingly of the dog.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a reputation!&rdquo; cried the old soldier. &ldquo;I dare say that you have been
+      telling Monsieur Carewe that I am a wit. Monsieur, never attempt to be
+      witty; they will put you down for a wit, and laugh at anything you say,
+      even when you put yourself out to speak the truth. If I possess any wit it
+      is like young grapes&mdash;sour. You are connected in Vienna?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With the American Legation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Happy is the country,&rdquo; said the Marshal, &ldquo;which is so far away that
+      Europe can find no excuse to meddle with it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And even then Europe would not dare,&rdquo; Maurice replied, with impertinence
+      aforethought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is not a diplomatic speech.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I like your frankness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let that go toward making amends for saving the dog.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are all American diplomats so frank?&rdquo; inquired the Marshal, with an air
+      of feigned wonder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed, no,&rdquo; answered Maurice. &ldquo;Just at present I am not in a diplomatic
+      capacity; I need not look askance at truth. And there is no reason why we
+      should not always be truthful.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are wrong. It's truth's infrequency which makes her so charming and
+      refreshing. However, I thank you for your services to her Highness; your
+      services to her dog I shall try to forget.&rdquo; And with this the Marshal
+      moved away, shaking his head as if he had inadvertently stumbled on an
+      intricate problem.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not long after, Maurice was left to his own devices. He viewed the scene,
+      silent and curious. Conversation was carried on in low tones, and laughter
+      was infrequent and subdued. The women dressed without ostentation. There
+      were no fair arms and necks. Indeed, these belong wholly to youth, and
+      youth was not a factor at the archbishop's receptions. Most of the men
+      were old and bald, and only the wives of the French and British ministers
+      were pretty or young. How different from Vienna, where youth and beauty
+      abound! There were no music, no long tables of refreshments, no sparkling
+      wines, no smoking-room, good stories and better fellowship. There was an
+      absence of the flash of jewels and color which make court life attractive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There seemed to be hanging in the air some invisible power, the forecast
+      of a tragedy, the beginning of an unknown end. And yet the prelate smiled
+      on enemies and friends alike. As Maurice observed that smile he grew
+      perplexed. It was a smile such as he had seen on the faces of men who,
+      about to die, felt the grim satisfaction of having an enemy for company.
+      The king lay on his death bed, in all probabilities the throne tottered;
+      yet the archbishop smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The princess did not know that her father was dying; this was a secret
+      which had not yet been divulged to her. And this was the only society she
+      knew. Small wonder that she was sad and lonely. To be young, and to find
+      one's self surrounded by the relics of youth; what an existence! She had
+      never known the beauty of a glittering ballroom, felt the music of a waltz
+      mingle with the quick throbs of the heart, the pleasure of bestowing
+      pleasure. She had never read the mute yet intelligent admiration in a
+      young man's eyes. And what young woman does not yearn for the honest
+      adoration of an honest man? Poor, lonely princess indeed. For, loving the
+      world as he himself did, Maurice understood what was slipping past her.
+      Every moment the roots of love were sinking deeper into his heart and
+      twining firmly about, as a vine to a trellis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Is there a mental telegraphy, an indefinable substance which is affected
+      by the close proximity of a presence, which, while we do not see, we feel?
+      Perhaps; at any rate, Maurice suddenly became aware of that peculiar yet
+      now familiar agitation of his nerves. Instinctively he turned his head. In
+      the doorway which separated the chamber from the conservatory stood her
+      Royal Highness. She was dressed entirely in black, which accentuated the
+      whiteness&mdash;the Carrara marble whiteness&mdash;of her exquisite skin.
+      In the dark, shining coils swept back from her brow lay the subtle snare
+      of a red rose. There was no other color except on the full lips. She saw
+      Maurice, but she was so far away that the faint reflection of the rose on
+      her cheeks was gone before he reached her side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was afraid,&rdquo; she said, lowering her eyes as she uttered the fib, &ldquo;that
+      you would not come after all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It would have been impossible for me to stay away,&rdquo; he replied, his eyes
+      ardent. The princess looked away. &ldquo;And may I ask after the health of the
+      dog?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks to you, Monsieur; he is getting along finely. Poor dog; he will
+      always limp. What is it that makes men inflict injuries on dumb
+      creatures?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is the beast that is envious of the brute.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And your hand?&rdquo; with a glance sympathetic and inquiring.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My hand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; did you not injure it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O!&rdquo; He laughed and held out two gloved hands for her inspection. &ldquo;That
+      was only a scratch. In fact, I do not remember which hand it was.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very modest. I should have made much of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He could not translate this; so he said: &ldquo;There was nothing injured but my
+      hat. I seem unfortunate in that direction.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She smiled, recalling the incident in the archbishop's garden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall keep the hat, however,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;as a souvenir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Souvenirs, Monsieur,&rdquo; she replied carelessly, &ldquo;and old age are
+      synonymous. You and I ought not to have any souvenirs. Have you seen the
+      picture gallery? No? Then I shall have the pleasure of showing it to you.
+      Monseigneur is very proud of his gallery. He has a Leonardo, a Botticelli,
+      a Murillo, and a Rembrandt. And they really show better in artificial
+      light, which softens the effect of time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Half an hour was passed in the gallery. It was very pleasant to listen to
+      her voice as she described this and that painting, and the archbishop's
+      adventures in securing them. It did not seem possible to him that she was
+      a princess, perhaps destined to become a queen, so free was she from the
+      attributes of royalty, so natural and ingenuous. He caught each movement
+      of her delicate head, each gesture of her hand, the countless inflections
+      of her voice, the lights which burned or died away in the dark wine of her
+      eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Poor devil! he mused, himself in mind; poor fool! He forgot the world, he
+      forgot that he was a prisoner on parole, he forgot the strife between the
+      kingdom and the duchy, he forgot everything but the wild impossible love
+      which filled his senses. He forgot even Prince Frederick of Carnavia.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In truth, the world was &ldquo;a sorry scheme of things.&rdquo; It was grotesque with
+      inequalities. He had no right to love her; it was wrong to give in to the
+      impulses of the heart, the natural, human impulses. A man can beat down
+      the stone walls of a fort, scale the impregnable heights of a citadel,
+      master the earth and the seas, but he can not surmount the invisible
+      barriers which he himself erected in the past ages&mdash;the quality of
+      birth. Ah! if only she had been a peasant, unlettered and unknown, and
+      free to be won! The tasks of Hercules were then but play to him!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Next she led him through the aisles of potted plants in the conservatory.
+      She was very learned. She explained the origin of each flower, its native
+      soil, the time and manner of its transportation. Perhaps she was surprised
+      at his lack of botanical knowledge, he asked so many questions. But it was
+      not the flowers, it was her voice, which urged him to these
+      interrogations.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were on the point of re-entering the reception chamber, when the
+      jingle of a spur on the mosaic floor caused them to turn. Maurice could
+      not control the start; he had forgotten all about Beauvais. The soldier
+      wore the regulation full dress of the cuirassiers, white trousers, tucked
+      into patent leather half-boots, a gray jacket with gold lace and
+      decorations, red saber straps and a gray pelisse hanging from the left
+      shoulder. A splendid soldier, Maurice grudgingly admitted. What would the
+      Colonel say? The situation was humorous rather than otherwise, and Maurice
+      smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was looking for your Highness,&rdquo; said Beauvais, as he came up, &ldquo;to pay
+      my respects. I am leaving.&rdquo; His glance at Maurice was one of polite
+      curiosity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Colonel Beauvais,&rdquo; said the princess, coldly, &ldquo;Monsieur Carewe, of the
+      American Legation in Vienna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She was not looking at the Colonel, but Maurice was, and the Colonel's
+      total lack of surprise astonished him. The gaze of the two men plunged
+      into each other's eyes like flashes of lightning, but that was all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am charmed,&rdquo; said the Colonel, a half-ironical smile under his
+      mustache. &ldquo;Your name is not unfamiliar to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No?&rdquo; said Maurice, with studied politeness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. It is connected with an exploit. Was it not you who faced the
+      students this afternoon and rescued her Highness's dog?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said Maurice, in a tone which implied that exploits were every day
+      events with him; &ldquo;it was but a simple thing to do. The students were like
+      so many sheep.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The princess elevated her brows; she felt an undercurrent of something
+      which she did not understand. Indeed, she did not like the manner in which
+      the two men eyed each other. Her glance passed from the stalwart soldier
+      to the slim, athletic form of the civilian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Conversation drifted aimlessly. Maurice had the malice to cast the brunt
+      of it on the Colonel's shoulders. The princess, like a rose coming in
+      contact with a chill air, drew within herself. She was cold, brief, and
+      serenely indifferent. It was evident to Maurice that she had resumed her
+      royal mantle, and that she had shown him unusual consideration.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Presently she raised her hand to her head, as sometimes one will do
+      unconsciously, and the rose slipped from her hair and dropped to the
+      floor. Both men stooped. Maurice was quickest. With a bow he offered to
+      return it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may keep it, Monsieur;&rdquo; and she laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They joined her. Maurice knew why the Colonel laughed, and the Colonel
+      knew why Maurice laughed; but neither could account for the laughter of
+      the princess. That was her secret.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All things come to an end, even diplomatic receptions. Soon the guests
+      began to leave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Said the princess to Maurice: &ldquo;Your invitation is a standing one,
+      Monsieur. To our friends there are no formalities. Good night; ah, yes,
+      the English fashion,&rdquo; extending her hand, which Maurice barely touched.
+      &ldquo;Good night, Monsieur,&rdquo; to Beauvais, with one of those nods which wither
+      as effectually as frost.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Colonel bent gracefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Decidedly the Colonel is not in high favor tonight,&rdquo; thought Maurice; &ldquo;a
+      fact which is eminently satisfactory to me. Ah; he looks as if he had
+      something to say to me. Let us wait.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur, have you any other engagement this evening?&rdquo; asked Beauvais,
+      swinging his pelisse over both shoulders. &ldquo;If not, my rooms are quite
+      handy. I have capital cigars and cognacs. Will you do me the honor? I
+      should like to have you regale me with some Vienna gossip; it is so long
+      since I was there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks,&rdquo; said Maurice. &ldquo;I shall be happy to smoke your cigars and drink
+      your cognacs.&rdquo; He was in the mood for any adventure, comic or serious. He
+      had an idea what the Colonel wanted to say to him, and he was not
+      unwilling to listen. Besides, he had no fear; he now wore an amulet close
+      to his heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, then,&rdquo; said Beauvais, gaily; and the two made off. &ldquo;It is a
+      wonderful game of chess, this world of ours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Maurice, &ldquo;we do keep moving.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And every now and then one or the other of us steps out into the dark.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So we do.&rdquo; Maurice glanced from the corner of his eye and calculated his
+      chances in a physical contest with the Colonel. The soldier was taller and
+      broader, but it was possible for him to make good this deficiency with
+      quickness. But, above all, where and under what circumstances had he met
+      this man before?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here we are!&rdquo; cried the Colonel, presently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He led Maurice into one of the handsome dwellings which faced the palace
+      confines from the east. They passed up the stairs into a large room,
+      Oriental in its appointments, and evidently the living room. The walls
+      were hung with the paraphernalia of a soldier, together with portraits of
+      opera singers, horses and celebrities of all classes. On the mantel
+      Maurice saw, among other things, the glint of a revolver barrel. He
+      thought nothing of it then. It occurred to him as singular, however, that
+      the room was free from central obstruction. Had the Colonel expected to
+      meet him at the archbishop's and anticipated his acceptance of a possible
+      invitation?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Two chairs stood on either side of the grate. Between them was an octagon
+      on which were cigars, glasses and two cognac bottles. The Colonel's valet
+      came in and lit the tapers in the chandelier and woke up the fire....
+      Maurice was convinced that the Colonel had arranged the room thus for his
+      especial benefit, and he regretted his eagerness for adventure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Francois,&rdquo; said Beauvais, throwing his shako and pelisse on the lounge
+      and motioning to Maurice to do likewise, &ldquo;let no one disturb us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The valet bowed and noiselessly retired. The two men sat down without
+      speaking. Beauvais passed the cigars. Maurice selected one, lit it, and
+      blew rings at the Chinese mandarin which leered down at him from the
+      mantel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Several minutes marched into the past.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maurice Carewe,&rdquo; said the Colonel, as one who mused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is very droll,&rdquo; said Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can not say that it strikes me as droll, though I am not deficient in
+      the sense of humor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Twould be a pity if you were; you would miss so much. Through humor
+      philosophy reaches its culmination; humor is the foundation upon which the
+      palace of reason erects itself. The two are inseparable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How came you to be mixed up in this affair, which is no concern of
+      yours?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That question is respectfully referred to Madame the duchess. I was
+      thrown into it, head foremost, bound hand and foot. It was a clever
+      stroke, though eventually it will embarrass her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may give me the certificates,&rdquo; said Beauvais.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice contemplated him serenely. &ldquo;Impossible,&rdquo; with a fillip at the end
+      of his cigar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You refuse?&rdquo; coldly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not refuse. Simply, I haven't got them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&rdquo; The Colonel half sprang from his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His astonishment was genuine; Maurice saw that it was, and he reflected.
+      Madame nor Fitzgerald had been dishonest with him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. Some one has forestalled me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you lying to me?&rdquo; menacingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And if I were?&rdquo; coolly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Beauvais measured his antagonist, his eyes hard and contemptuous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I repeat,&rdquo; said Maurice, &ldquo;the situation is exceedingly droll. I am not
+      afraid of you, not a bit. I am not a man to be intimidated. You might have
+      inferred as much by my willingness to accompany you here. I am alone with
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true that you are alone with me,&rdquo; in a voice, which, though it did
+      not alarm Maurice, caused him to rest less comfortably in his chair. &ldquo;In
+      the first place, you know too much.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The knowledge was not of my own seeking. You will agree with me in that.&rdquo;
+       He took a swallow of the cognac. &ldquo;However, since I am in the affair&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll see it to its end.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps. We shall not cross purposes. When men plot as I do, they stop at
+      nothing, not even at that infinitesimal minutiae called the spark of life.
+      It becomes a matter of self-preservation. I am in too deep water; I must
+      keep on. I can not now turn back; the first shore is too far away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Even villainy has its inconveniences,&rdquo; Maurice observed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you call villainy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An act in which a man accepts pay from one to ruin him for another. That
+      is villainy, without a single saving grace, for you are a native neither
+      of the kingdom nor the duchy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is plain language. You do not take into consideration the villain's
+      motives. There may be certain ends necessary as his life's blood, which
+      may be gained only by villainy, which, after all, is a hard name for
+      political conspiracy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I do not suppose you are worse than the majority. But it appeals to
+      me as rather a small, unmanly game when your victims are a man who is
+      dying and a girl who knows nothing of the world nor its treachery.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      An almost imperceptible smile passed over Beauvais's countenance. &ldquo;So her
+      Highness has captured your sympathies?&rdquo; with a shade of banter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I admit that; she would capture the sympathies of any man who has a good
+      pair of eyes in his head. But you do not seem to be in favor just at
+      present,&rdquo; banter for banter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Colonel studied the end of his cigar. &ldquo;What is to be your stand in
+      this affair?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Neutral as possible, for the simple reason that I have passed my word to
+      Madame; compulsorily, it is true; I shall abide by it. That is not to say
+      that my sympathies are not wholly with the Osians. Madame is a brilliant
+      woman, resourceful, initiative; she has as many sides as a cut diamond;
+      moreover, her cause is just. But I do not like the way she has gone about
+      the recovery of her throne. She has broken, or will break, a fine honest
+      heart; she tried to break another, but, not being above the pantry maid,
+      the subject of her attention failed to appreciate the consideration.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Beauvais laughed at this. &ldquo;You are very good company. Let me advise you to
+      remain neutral. I wish you no harm. But if you change your mind and stand
+      in my path&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, and if I stood in your path?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pouf! you would vanish. O, I should not stoop to murder; that is a vulgar
+      word and practice. I should place a sword in your hand and give you the
+      preference of a gentleman's death. I see nothing to prevent me from
+      carrying out that this very night,&rdquo; with a nod toward the rapiers which
+      hung from the opposite wall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You might be surprised at the result,&rdquo; said Maurice, stretching his legs.
+      &ldquo;But at present I have no desire to quarrel with you, or to put your skill
+      to a test. Once Madame gives me back my word, why, I do not say.&rdquo; He
+      dipped his hand toward the ash-pan. &ldquo;Human nature is full of freaks. A man
+      will commit all sorts of crimes, yet stand by his word. Not that I have
+      committed any crimes against the ten commandments.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And so they fenced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You picked up a rose to-night,&rdquo; said the Colonel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So I did.&rdquo; Maurice blew a puff of smoke into the chimneyplace and watched
+      it sail upward and vanish. &ldquo;Moreover, I propose to keep it. Have you any
+      objections?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only this: her Highness intended the rose for me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no, my friend,&rdquo; easily. &ldquo;She would not have laughed had you picked it
+      up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is to say I lie?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is,&rdquo; laconically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no eluding a statement so bald as this. Beauvais sat upright.
+      &ldquo;To call me a liar is a privilege which I extend to no man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not call you a liar,&rdquo; undisturbed. &ldquo;You wrote it down yourself, and
+      I simply agreed to it. A duel? Well, I shall not fight you. Dueling is
+      obsolete, and it never demonstrated the right or wrong of a cause. Since
+      my part in this affair is one of neutrality, and since to gain that
+      knowledge was the object of your invitation, I will take my leave of you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He rose and looked at the porcelain clock. As he did so his gaze rested on
+      a small photograph standing at the side of it. He scanned it eagerly. It
+      was a face of dark Castilian beauty. He turned and looked at Beauvais long
+      and earnestly. There was an answering gaze, an immobility of countenance.
+      Maurice experienced a slight shock. The haze over his memory was
+      dispersed. The whole scene, in which this man loomed in the foreground,
+      came back vividly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your stare, Monsieur, is annoying.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shouldn't wonder,&rdquo; replied Maurice, leaning against the mantel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do me the honor to explain it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice, never dreaming of the trap, fell head foremost into it. &ldquo;I have
+      traveled a good deal,&rdquo; he began. &ldquo;I have been&mdash;even to South
+      America.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; This ejaculation expressed nothing. In fact, Beavais was smiling.
+      There was a sinister something behind that smile, but Maurice was
+      unobservant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He went on. &ldquo;Yes, to South America. I was there in a diplomatic capacity,
+      during one of the many revolutions. This country was the paradise of
+      adventurers, the riff-raff of continental social outcasts. I distinctly
+      remember the leader of this revolution. Up to the very last day, Captain
+      Urquijo was the confidential friend of the president whom he was about to
+      ruin. Through the president's beautiful daughter Urquijo picked up his
+      threads and laid his powder train. The woman loved him as women sometimes
+      love rascals. The president was to be assassinated and his rival
+      installed. Captain Urquijo was to be made General of the armies.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One fine day the troops lined both sides of the plaza, the square also
+      about which lay the government buildings. It was the event of some
+      celebration; I believe the throwing off of the yoke of Spain. The city
+      flocked into the plaza. Strangely enough, those who were disaffected&mdash;the
+      soldiers under Urquijo&mdash;faced the loyal troops. By a preconceived
+      plan, the artillery was under the command of Urquijo. Suddenly this
+      Captain's murderous and traitorous guns swept the plaza, mangling women
+      and children. There was a flaw, however, in the stroke. Urquijo fled, a
+      reward posted for his head&mdash;mind you, his head; they did not want him
+      alive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The daughter expiates her foolish love in a convent. Her disgraces proved
+      too much for her father, who blew out his brains. The successor secured
+      extradition papers in all the leading capitals of the world. The story was
+      the sensation of the day; the newspapers made much of it. All governments
+      offered to assist the republic in hounding down this rascal. To whatever
+      country he belonged, that country promised to disown him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice took the photograph and cast it into Beauvais's lap. &ldquo;Do you
+      recognize that face? Is it not a mute accusation to your warped
+      conscience?&rdquo; The voice, changing from the monotone of narrative, grew
+      strong and contemptuous. &ldquo;I know you. I recognized you the moment I laid
+      eyes on you, only I could not place you. Perhaps it was because it did not
+      seem possible that you would dare show your face to civilized people. That
+      photograph has done its work. By the Lord, but you're a fine rascal! Not a
+      bit changed. Have you forgotten your Spanish? As God hears me, I shall
+      hold you up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a very young man,&rdquo; said Beauvais, rising. He was still smiling.
+      &ldquo;Do you know why I asked you here? For this very reason. Madame divined
+      you well. She said that you had a dash of what romanticists call valor,
+      but that you never saw an inch before your nose. I knew that you would be
+      at the archbishop's; I knew that you would follow me to this room. Indeed,
+      you might have suspected as much by the unusual arrangement of the
+      fixtures of the room. I placed that photograph there, trusting to your
+      rather acute eyesight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My memory seems to be better than yours. I knew you the first time I saw
+      you in Bleiborg. I was waiting only to see how much you had remembered. I
+      am not Colonel Beauvais; I am not Urquijo; I am the last of a noble
+      Austrian house, in exile, but on the eve of recall. Your knowledge would,
+      of course, be disastrous to my ambitions. That is why I wanted to find out
+      how much you know. You know too much, too much by half; and since you have
+      walked into the lion's den, you shall never leave it alive.&rdquo; With this he
+      sprang to the wall and tore down the rapiers, one of which he flung at
+      Maurice's feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice felt the hand of paralysis on his nerves. He looked at the rapier,
+      then at Beauvais, dazed and incapable of movement. It had been so sudden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And when they find you in some alley in the lower town they will put it
+      down to thieves. You are young and thoughtless,&rdquo; Beauvais went on
+      banteringly. &ldquo;A little discretion and you might have gone with a whole
+      skin. We never forget a woman's face, and I knew that you would not forget
+      hers. Don't trouble yourself about leaping through the windows; the fall
+      will kill you less effectually than I shall.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice pulled himself together. The prospect of death brought back
+      lucidity of mind. He at once saw the hopelessness of his position. He
+      cursed his lack of forethought. He became pale and furious, but his head
+      cleared. His life hung in the balance. He now translated Beauvais's smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you wish to add another to the list?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To shield one crime, a man must commit many others. O, this will not be
+      murder. It will be a duel, in which you will have no chance. Pick up the
+      sword, if only for form's sake.&rdquo; Beauvais caught the wrist thong of the
+      rapier between his teeth and rapidly divested himself of his jacket and
+      saber straps. With his back toward the door, he rolled up his sleeve and
+      discovered a formidable forearm. He tried the blade and thrust several
+      times into the air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What promise have I,&rdquo; said Maurice, &ldquo;that you will not run me through
+      when I stoop for the sword?&rdquo; This question did not serve.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Beauvais laughed. &ldquo;I never get angry in moments like these. I am giving
+      you a sword to ease my conscience. I do not assassinate boys.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But supposing I should kill you by chance?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Beauvais laughed again. &ldquo;That is not possible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice had faced death before, but with more confidence. The thought that
+      he had poked his head into a trap stirred him disagreeably. He saw that
+      Beauvais possessed a superabundance of confidence, and confidence is half
+      of any battle. He picked up the sword and held it between his knees, while
+      he threw off his coat and vest, and unbuttoned his collar and cuffs. What
+      he had to sell would be sold as dearly as possible. He tested the blade,
+      took in a deep breath, fell easily into position&mdash;and waited.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVII. SOME PASSAGES AT ARMS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      There comes a moment to every man, who faces an imminent danger, when the
+      mental vision expands and he sees beyond. By this transient gift of
+      prescience he knows what the end will be, whether he is to live or die. As
+      Maurice looked into the merciless eyes of his enemy, a dim knowledge came
+      to him that this was to be an event and not a catastrophe, a fragment of a
+      picture yet to be fully drawn. His confidence and courage returned. He
+      thanked God, however, that the light above equalized their positions, and
+      that the shadows were behind them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The swords came together with a click light but ominous. Immediately
+      Beauvais stepped back, suddenly threw forward his body, and delivered
+      three rapid thrusts. Maurice met them firmly, giving none.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; cried Beauvais; &ldquo;that is good. You know a little. There will be
+      sport, besides.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice shut his lips the tighter, and worked purely on the defensive. His
+      fencing master had taught him two things, silence and watchfulness. While
+      Beauvais made use of his forearm, Maurice as yet depended solely on his
+      wrist. Once they came together, guard to guard, neither daring to break
+      away until by mutual agreement, spoken only by the eyes, both leaped
+      backward out of reach. There was no sound save the quick light stamp of
+      feet and the angry murmur of steel scraping against steel. Sometimes they
+      moved circlewise, with free blades, waiting and watching. Up to now
+      Beauvais's play had been by the book, so to speak, and he began to see
+      that his opponent was well read.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which side is the pretty rose?&rdquo; seeking to distract Maurice. &ldquo;Tell me,
+      and I will pin it to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Not a muscle moved in Maurice's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is too, bad,&rdquo; went on Beauvais, &ldquo;that her Highness finds a lover only
+      to lose him. You fool! I read your eyes when you picked up that rose.
+      Princesses are not for such as you. I will find her a lover, it will be
+      neither you nor Prince Frederick&mdash;ah! you caught that nicely. But you
+      depend too much on the wrist. Presently it will tire; and then&mdash;pouf!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Now and then a a flame, darting from the grate, sparkled on the polished
+      steel, and from the steel it shot into the watchful eyes. A quarter of an
+      hour passed; still Maurice remained on the defensive. At first Beauvais
+      misunderstood the reason, and thought Maurice did not dare run the risk of
+      passing from defensive to offensive. But by and by the froth of impatience
+      crept into his veins. He could not penetrate above or below that defense.
+      The man before him was of marble, with a wrist of iron; he neither smiled
+      nor spoke, there was no sign of life at all, except in the agile legs, the
+      wrist, and eyes. The Colonel decided to change his tactics.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When I have killed you,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I shall search your pockets, for I
+      know that you lie when you say that you have not those certificates.
+      Madame was a fool to send you. No man lives who may be trusted. And what
+      is your game? Save the Osians? Small good it will do you. Her Highness
+      will wed Prince Frederick&mdash;mayhap&mdash;and all you will get is cold
+      thanks. And in such an event, have you reckoned on Madame the duchess?
+      War! And who will win? Madame; for she has not only her own army, but
+      mine. Come, come! Speak, for when you leave this room your voice will be
+      silent. Make use of the gift, since it is about to leave you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The reply was a sudden straightening of the arm. The blade slipped in
+      between the Colonel's forearm and body, and was out again before the
+      soldier fully comprehended what had happened. Maurice permitted a cold
+      smile to soften the rigidity of his face. Beauvais saw the smile, and read
+      it. The thrust had been rendered harmless intentionally. An inch nearer,
+      and he had been a dead man. To accomplish such a delicate piece of sword
+      play required nothing short of mastery. Beauvais experienced a
+      disagreeable chill, which was not unmixed with chagrin. The boy had held
+      his life in his hand, and had spared it. He set his teeth, and let loose
+      with a fury before which nothing could stand; and Maurice was forced back
+      step by step until he was almost up with the wall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You damned fool!&rdquo; the Colonel snarled, &ldquo;you'll never get that chance
+      again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For the next few minutes it took all the splendid defense Maurice
+      possessed to keep the spark in his body. The Colonel's sword was no longer
+      a sword, it was a flame; which circled, darted, hissed and writhed. Twice
+      Maurice felt the bite of it, once in the arm and again in the thigh. These
+      were not deep, but they told him that the end was but a short way off. He
+      had no match for this brilliant assault. Something must be done, and that
+      at once. He did not desire the Colonel's death, and the possibility of
+      accomplishing this was now extremely doubtful. But he wanted to live. Life
+      was just beginning&mdash;the rough road had been left behind. He was
+      choosing between his life and the Colonel's. Beauvais, after the fashion
+      of the old masters, was playing for the throat. This upward thrusting,
+      when continuous, is difficult to meet, and Maurice saw that sooner or
+      later the blade would reach home. If not sudden death, it meant
+      speechlessness, and death as a finality. Then the voice of his guardian
+      angel spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not wish your life,&rdquo; he said, breaking the silence, &ldquo;but at the same
+      time I wish to live&mdash;ah!&rdquo; Maurice leaped back just in time. As it
+      was, the point of his enemy's blade scratched his chin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They broke and circled. The Colonel feinted. Maurice, with his elbow
+      against his side and his forearm extended, waited. Again the Colonel
+      lunged for the throat. This time, instead of meeting it in tierce, Maurice
+      threw his whole force forward in such a manner as to bring the steel guard
+      of his rapier full on the Colonel's point. There was a ringing sound of
+      snapping steel, and the Colonel stood with nothing but a stump in his
+      grasp.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There you are,&rdquo; said Maurice, a heat-flash passing over him. Had he
+      swerved a hair's breadth from the line, time would have tacked finis to
+      the tale. &ldquo;Now, I am perfectly willing to talk,&rdquo; putting his point to the
+      Colonel's breast. &ldquo;It would inconvenience me to kill you, but do not count
+      too much on that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Damn you!&rdquo; cried the Colonel, giving way, his face yellow with rage,
+      chagrin and fear. &ldquo;Kill me, for I swear to God that one or the other of us
+      must die! Damn you and your meddling nose!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Damn away, chevalier d'industrie; damn away. But live, live, live! That
+      will be the keenest punishment. Live! O, my brave killer of boys, you
+      thought to play with me as a cat with a mouse, eh? Eh, Captain
+      Urquijo-Beauvais-and-What-is-your-name?&rdquo; He pressed the point here, there,
+      everywhere. &ldquo;You were too confident. Pardon me if I appear to brag, but I
+      have taken lessons of the best fencing masters in Europe, and three times,
+      while you devoted your talents to monologues, I could have pinned you like
+      one of those butterflies on the wall there. Have you ever heard of the
+      sword of Damocles? Well, well; it hangs over many a head to-day. I will be
+      yours. I give you forty-eight hours to arrange your personal affairs. If
+      after that time you are still in this part of the country, I shall inform
+      the proper authorities in Vienna. The republic has representation there.
+      Of a noble Austrian house, on the eve of recall? I think not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Beauvais made a desperate attempt to clutch the blade in his hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no!&rdquo; laughed Maurice, making rapid prods which caused Beauvais to
+      wince. &ldquo;Now, back; farther, farther. I do not like the idea of having my
+      back to the door.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Beauvais suddenly wheeled and dashed for the mantel. But as he endeavored
+      to lay hand on the revolver Maurice brought down the blade on the
+      Colonel's knuckles, leaving a livid welt. Maurice took possession of the
+      weapon, while a grimace of agony shot over the Colonel's face. Seeing that
+      the chambers were loaded, Maurice threw down the sword.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, well!&rdquo; he said, cocking the weapon. &ldquo;And I saw it when I entered
+      the room. It would have saved a good deal of trouble.&rdquo; Beauvais grew
+      white. &ldquo;O,&rdquo; Maurice continued, &ldquo;I am not going to shoot you. I wish merely
+      to call your valet.&rdquo; He aimed at the grate and pressed the trigger, and
+      the report, vibrating within the four walls, was deafening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A moment passed, and the valet, with bulging eyes and blanched face,
+      peered in. Seeing how matters stood, he made as though to retreat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice leveled the smoking revolver. &ldquo;Come in, Francois; your master will
+      have need of you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Francois complied, vertigo in his limbs. &ldquo;My God!&rdquo; he cried, wringing his
+      hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your master tried to murder me,&rdquo; said Maurice. Francois had heard voices
+      like this before, and it conveyed to him that a fine quality of anger lay
+      close to the surface. &ldquo;Take down yonder window curtain cord.&rdquo; Francois did
+      so. &ldquo;Now bind your master's hands with it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Francois,&rdquo; cried the Colonel, &ldquo;if you so much as lay a finger on me, I'll
+      kill you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Francois, I will kill you if you don't,&rdquo; said Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My God!&rdquo; wailed the valet at loss which to obey when to obey either meant
+      death. His teeth chattered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may have all the time you want, Francois, to wring your hands when I
+      am gone. Come; to work. Colonel, submit. I'm in a hurry and have no time
+      to spare. While I do not desire to kill you, self-preservation will force
+      me to put a bullet into your hide, which will make you an inmate of the
+      city hospital. Bind his hands behind his back, and no more nonsense.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; appealingly to Beauvais, &ldquo;my God, I am forced. He will kill
+      me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So will I,&rdquo; grimly; &ldquo;by God, I will!&rdquo; Beauvais had a plan. If he could
+      keep Maurice long enough, help might arrive. And he had an excellent story
+      to tell. Still Francois doddered. With his eye on the Colonel and the
+      revolver sighted, Maurice picked up the sword. He gave Francois a vigorous
+      prod. Francois needed no further inducement. He started forward with
+      alacrity. In the wink of an eye he threw the cord around Beauvais's arms
+      and pinned them to his sides. Beauvais swore, but the valet was strong in
+      his fright. He struggled and wound and knotted and tied, murmuring his
+      pitiful &ldquo;Mon Dieu!&rdquo; the while, till the Colonel was the central figure of
+      a Gordian knot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will do,&rdquo; said Maurice. &ldquo;Now, Francois, good and faithful servant,
+      take your master over to the lounge, and sit down beside him until I get
+      into my clothes. Yes; that's it.&rdquo; He shoved his collar and tie into a
+      pocket, slipped on his vest and coat, put on his hat and slung his topcoat
+      over his arm. During these maneuvers the revolver remained conspicuously
+      in sight. &ldquo;Now, Francois, lead the way to the street door. By the time you
+      return to your illustrious master, who is the prince or duke of something
+      or other, pursuit will be out of the question. Now, as for you,&rdquo; turning
+      to Beauvais, &ldquo;the forty-eight hours hold good. During that time I shall go
+      armed. Forty-eight hours from now I shall inform the authorities at the
+      nearest consulate. If they catch you, that's your affair. Off we go,
+      Francois.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By God!&mdash;&rdquo; began Beauvais, struggling to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come so far as this door,&rdquo; warned Maurice, &ldquo;and, bound or not, I'll knock
+      you down. Hang you! Do you think my temper will improve in your immediate
+      vicinity? Do you think for a moment that I do not lust for your blood as
+      heartily as you lust for mine? Go to the devil your own way; you'll go
+      fast enough!&rdquo; He caught Francois by the shoulders and pushed him into the
+      hall, followed, and closed the door. Francois had been graduated from the
+      stables, therefore his courage never rose to sublime heights. All the way
+      down the stairs he lamented; and each time he turned his head and saw the
+      glitter of the revolver barrel he choked with terror.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you do not kill me, Monsieur, he will; he will, I know he will! My
+      God, how did it happen? He will kill me!&rdquo; and the voice sank into a
+      muffled sob.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Despite the gravity of the situation, Maurice could not repress his
+      laughter. &ldquo;He will not harm you; he threatened you merely to delay me.
+      Open the door.&rdquo; He stepped out into the refreshing air. &ldquo;By the way, tell
+      your master not to go to the trouble of having me arrested, for the first
+      thing in the morning I shall place a sealed packet in the hands of the
+      British minister, to be opened if I do not call for it within twenty-four
+      hours. And say to your master that I shall keep the rose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mon Dieu! A woman! I might have known!&rdquo; ejaculated Francois, as the door
+      banged in his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice, on reaching the pavement, took to his legs, for he saw three men
+      rapidly approaching. Perhaps they had heard the pistol shot. He concluded
+      not to wait to learn. He continued his rush till he gained his room. It
+      was two o'clock. He had been in the Colonel's room nearly three hours. It
+      seemed only so many minutes. He hunted for his brandy, found it and
+      swallowed several mouthfuls. Then he dropped into a chair from sheer
+      exhaustion. Reaction laid hold of him. His hands shook, his legs trembled,
+      and perspiration rolled down his cheek.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By George!&rdquo; This exclamation stood alone, but it was an Odyssey. He
+      remained stupefied, staring at his shoes, over which his stockings had
+      fallen. His shirt buttons were gone, and the bosom was guiltless of its
+      former immaculateness. After a time he became conscious of a burning pain
+      in the elbow of his right arm. He glanced down at his hand, to find it
+      covered with drying blood. He jumped up and cast about his clothes. One
+      leg of his trousers was soaked, and the dull ache in his thigh told the
+      cause. He salved the wounds and bound them in strips of handkerchiefs,
+      which he held in place by using some of the cast-off cravats.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was about as close to death as a man can get and pull out. I feel as
+      if I had swallowed that cursed blade of his. I am an ass, sure enough.
+      I've always a bad cold when there's a rat about; can't smell him. And the
+      rascal remembered me! Will he stay in spite of my threat? I'll hang on
+      here till to-morrow. If he stays&mdash;I won't. He has the devil's own of
+      a sword. Hang it, my nerves are all gone to smash.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Soon some gentler thought took hold, and he smiled tenderly. He brought
+      forth the rose, turned it this way and that, studied it, stroked it, held
+      it to his lips as a lover holds the hand of the woman he loves. Her rose;
+      somehow his heart told him that she had laughed because Beauvais had
+      stooped in vain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, Maurice,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you are growing over fond. But why not? Who will
+      know? To have loved is something.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He crept into bed; but sleep refused him its offices, and he tossed about
+      in troubled dreams. He fought all kinds of duels with all sorts of
+      weapons. He was killed a half dozen times, but the archbishop always gave
+      him something which rekindled the vital spark. A thousand Beauvaises raged
+      at him. A thousand princesses were ever in the background, waiting to be
+      saved. He swore to kill these Beauvaises, and after many fruitless
+      endeavors, he succeeded in smothering them in their gray pelisses. Then he
+      woke, as dreamers always wake when they pass some great dream-crisis, and
+      found himself in a deadly struggle with a pillow and a bed-post. He
+      laughed and sprang out of bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's no use, I can't sleep. I am an old woman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So he lit his pipe and sat dreaming with his eyes open, smoking and
+      smoking, until the sickly pallor of dawn appeared in the sky, and he knew
+      that day had come.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVIII. A MINOR CHORD AND A CHANGE OF MOVEMENT
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Marshal Kampf, wrapt in his military cloak, with the peak of his cap drawn
+      over his eyes, sat on one of the rustic benches in the archbishop's
+      gardens and reflected. The archbishop had announced an informal levee, the
+      first since the king's illness. He had impressed the Marshal with the fact
+      that his presence was both urgent and necessary. Disturbed as he was by
+      the unusual command, the Marshal had arrived an hour too early. Since the
+      prelate would not rise until nine, the Marshal told the valet that he
+      would wait in the gardens.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      An informal levee, he mused. What was the meaning of it? Had that master
+      of craft and silence found a breach in the enemy's fortifications? He
+      rubbed the chill from his nose, crossed and re-crossed his legs and
+      teetered till the spurs on his boots set up a tuneful jingle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So far as he himself was concerned, he was not worried. The prelate knew
+      his views and knew that he would stand or fall with them. He had never
+      looked for benefits, as did those around him. He had offered what he had
+      without hope of reward, because he had considered it his duty. And, after
+      all, what had the Osian done that he should be driven to this ignominious
+      end? His motives never could be questioned; each act had been in some way
+      for the country's good. Every king is a usurper to those who oppose him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Would the kingdom be bettered in having a queen against whom the
+      confederation itself was opposed? Would it not be adding a twofold burden
+      to the one? The kingdom was at peace with those countries from which it
+      had most to fear. Was it wise to antagonize them? Small independent states
+      were independent only by courtesy. Again, why had Austria contrived to
+      place an alien on the throne, in face of popular sentiment? Would
+      Austria's interests have been less safe in the advent of rightful
+      succession? Up to now, what had Austria gained by ignoring the true house?
+      Outwardly nothing, but below the surface? Who could answer?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For eleven years he had tried to discover the secret purpose of Austria,
+      but, like others, he had failed; and the Austrian minister was less
+      decipherable than the &ldquo;Chinese puzzle.&rdquo; He was positive that none of the
+      arch-conspirators knew; they were blinded by self-interest. And the
+      archbishop? The Marshal rubbed his nose again, not, however, because it
+      was cold. Did any one know what was going on behind the smiling mask which
+      the reticent prelate showed to the world? The Marshal poked his chin above
+      his collar, and the wrinkles fell away from his gray eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sky was clear and brilliant, and a tonic from the forests sweetened
+      the rushing air. The lake was ruffled out of its usual calm, and rolled
+      and galloped along the distant shores and flashed on the golden sands.
+      Above the patches of red and brown and yellow the hills and mountains
+      stood out in bold, decided lines.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Water fowl swept along the marshes. The doves in twos and threes fluttered
+      down to the path, strutted about in their peculiarly awkward fashion, and
+      doubtfully eyed the silent gray figure on the bench, as if to question his
+      right to be there this time of the morning, their trysting hour. Presently
+      the whole flock came down, and began cooing and waltzing at the Marshal's
+      feet. He soon discovered the cause.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her Royal Highness was coming through the opening in the hedgerow which
+      separated the two confines. She carried a basket on her arm, and the
+      bulldog followed at her heels, holding his injured leg in the air, and
+      limping on the remaining three. At the sight of her the doves rose and
+      circled above her head. She smiled and threw into the air handful after
+      handful of cake and bread crumbs. In their eagerness the doves alighted on
+      her shoulders, on the rim of the basket, and even on the broad back of the
+      dog, who was too sober to give attention to this seeming indignity. He
+      kept his eye on his mistress's skirts, moved when she moved, and stopped
+      when she stopped. A gray-white cloud enveloped them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Marshal, with a curious sensation in his heart, observed this
+      exquisite, living picture. He was childless; and though he was by nature
+      undemonstrative, he was very fond of this youth. Her cheeks were scarlet,
+      her rosy lips were parted in excitement, and her eyes glistened with
+      pleasure. With all her twenty years, she was but ten in fancy; a woman,
+      yet a child, unlettered in worldly wit, wise in her love of nature. Not
+      until she had thrown away the last of the crumbs did she notice the
+      Marshal. He rose and bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good morning, your Highness. I am very much interested in your court. And
+      do you hold it every morning?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Even when it rains,&rdquo; she said, smiling. &ldquo;I am so glad to see you; I
+      wanted to talk to you last night, but I could not find the opportunity.
+      Let me share the bench with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And youth and age sat down together. The bulldog planted himself in the
+      middle of the path and blinked at his sworn enemy. The Marshal had no love
+      for him, and he was well aware of it; at present, an armistice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The princess gazed at the rollicking waters, at her doves, thence into the
+      inquiring gray eyes of the old soldier.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you remember,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;how I used to climb on your knees, ever so
+      long ago, and listen to your fairy stories?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh! And is it possible that your Highness remembers?&rdquo; wrinkles of delight
+      gathering in his cheeks. &ldquo;But why `ever so long ago'? It was but
+      yesterday. And your Highness remembers!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am like my father; I never forget!&rdquo; She looked toward the waters again.
+      &ldquo;I can recall only one story. It was about a princess who lost all her
+      friends through the offices of a wicked fairy. I remember it because it
+      was the only story you told me that had a sad ending. It was one of
+      Andersen's. Her father and mother died, and the moment she was left alone
+      her enemies set to work and toppled over her throne. She was cast out into
+      the world, having no friend but a dog; but the dog always found something
+      to eat, and protected her from giants and robbers and wolves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Many a time I thought of her, and cried because she was so unhappy. Well,
+      she traveled from place to place, footsore and weary, but in her own
+      country no one dared aid her, for fear of displeasing the wicked fairy,
+      who at this time was all powerful. So she entered a strange land, where
+      some peasants took her in, clothed and fed her, and gave her a staff and a
+      flock of geese to tend. And day after day she guarded the flock, telling
+      her sorrows to the dog, how she missed the dear ones and the home of her
+      childhood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One day the reigning prince of this strange land passed by while hunting,
+      and he saw the princess tending her geese. He made inquiries, and when he
+      found that the beautiful goose-girl was a princess, he offered to marry
+      her. She consented to become his wife, because she was too delicate to
+      drudge. So she and her dog went to live at the palace. Once she was
+      married the dog behaved strangely, whining softly, and refusing to be
+      consoled. The prince was very kind to them both.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alas! It seems that when she left her own country the good fairy had lost
+      all track of her, to find her when it was too late. The dog was a prince
+      under a wicked spell, and when the spell fell away the princess knew that
+      she loved him, and not her husband. She pined away and died. How many
+      times I have thought of her, poor, lonely, fairy-tale princess!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The old soldier blinked at the doves, and there was a furrow between his
+      eyes. Yes; how well he remembered telling her that story. But, as she
+      repeated it, it was clothed with a strange significance. Somehow, he found
+      himself voiceless; he knew not how to reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; she said suddenly, &ldquo;tell me, what has my poor father done that
+      these people should hate him and desire his ruin?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has been kind to them, my child,&rdquo; his gaze still riveted on the doves;
+      &ldquo;that is all. He has given them beautiful parks, he has made them a
+      beautiful city. A king who thinks of his people's welfare is never
+      understood. And ignorant and ungrateful people always hate those to whom
+      they are under obligations. It is the way of the world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And&mdash;and you, Marshal?&rdquo; timidly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. They whisper that&mdash;that&mdash;O, Marshal, is it you who will
+      forsake us in our need? I have heard many things of late which were not
+      intended for my ears. My father and I, we are so alone. I have never known
+      the comradeship of young people; I have never had that which youth longs
+      for&mdash;a confidant of my own age. The young people I know serve me
+      simply for their own ends, and not because they love me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have never spoken thus before to-day, save to this dog. He has been my
+      confidant; but he can not speak except with his kind old eyes, and he can
+      not understand as I would have him. And they hate even him because they
+      know that I love him. Poor dog!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What my father has done has always been wrong in his own eyes, but he
+      sinned for my sake, and God will forgive him. He gave up the home he loved
+      for my sake. O, that I had known and understood! I was only six. We are so
+      alone; we have no place to go, no friends save two, and they are helpless.
+      And now I am to make a sacrifice for him to repay him for all he has done
+      for me. I have promised my hand to one I do not love; even he forsakes me.
+      But love is not the portion of princesses. Love to them is a fairy story.
+      To secure my father's throne I have sacrificed my girlhood dreams. Ah! and
+      they were so sweet and dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She put a hand to her throat as if something had tightened there.
+      &ldquo;Marshal, I beg of you to tell me the truth, the truth! Is my father
+      dying? Is he? He&mdash;they will not tell me the truth. And I. .. never to
+      hear his voice again! The truth, for pity's sake!&rdquo; She caught at his hands
+      and strove to read his eyes. &ldquo;For pity's sake!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He drew his breath deeply. He dared not look into her eyes for fear she
+      might see the tears in his; so he bent hastily and pressed her hands to
+      his lips. But in his heart he knew that his promise to the dead was gone
+      with the winds, and that he would shed the last drop of blood in his
+      withered veins for the sake of this sad, lonely child.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your father, my child, will never stand up straight again,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;As
+      for the rest, that is in the hands of God. But I swear to you that this
+      dried-up old heart beats only for you. I will stand or fall with you, in
+      good times or bad.&rdquo; And he rubbed his nose more fiercely than ever. &ldquo;Had I
+      a daughter&mdash;But there! I have none.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My heart is breaking,&rdquo; she said, with a little sob. She sank back, her
+      head drooped to the arm of the bench, and she made no effort to stem the
+      flood of tears. &ldquo;I have no mother, and now my father is to leave me. And I
+      love him so, I love him so! He has sacrificed all his happiness to secure
+      mine&mdash;in vain. I laugh and smile because he asks me to, and all the
+      while my heart is breaking, breaking.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this juncture the doves rose hurriedly. The Marshal discovered the
+      archbishop's valet making toward him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur the Marshal, Monseigneur breakfasts and requests you to join
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Immediately;&rdquo; and the Marshal rose. He placed his hand on the dark head.
+      &ldquo;Keep up your heart, my child,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and we shall see if I have grown
+      too old for service.&rdquo; He squared his shoulders and followed the valet, who
+      viewed the scene with a valet's usual nonchalance. When the Marshal
+      reached the steps to the side entrance, he looked back. The dog had taken
+      his place, and the girl had buried her face in his neck. A moment later
+      the old soldier was ushered into the archbishop's presence, but neither
+      with fear nor uneasiness in his heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! Good morning, Marshal,&rdquo; said the prelate. &ldquo;Be seated. Did you not
+      find it chilly in the gardens?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not the least. It is a fine day. I have just left her Royal Highness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The prelate arched his eyebrows, and an interrogation shot out from under
+      them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered the observant soldier. &ldquo;My heart has ever been hers; this
+      time it is my hand and brain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The prelate's egg spoon remained poised in mid-air; then it dropped with a
+      clatter into the cup! But a moment gone he had held a sword in his hand;
+      he was disarmed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have promised to stand and fall with her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stand and fall? Why not 'or'?&rdquo; with a long, steadfast gaze.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did I say 'and'? Well, then,&rdquo; stolidly, &ldquo;perhaps that is the word I meant
+      to use. If I do the one I shall certainly do the other.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The archbishop absently stirred his eggs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God is witness,&rdquo; said the Marshal, &ldquo;I have always been honest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And neutral.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; honest and neutral.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But a man, a lonely man like myself, can not always master the impulses
+      of the heart; and I have surrendered to mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The listener turned to some documents which lay beside the cup, and idly
+      fingered them. &ldquo;I am glad; I am very glad. I have always secretly admired
+      you; and to tell the truth, I have feared you most of all&mdash;because
+      you are honest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Marshal shifted his saber around and drew his knees together. &ldquo;I
+      return the compliment,&rdquo; frankly. &ldquo;I have never feared you; I have
+      distrusted you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why distrusted?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because Leopold of Osia would never have forsaken his birthright, nor
+      looked toward a throne, had you not pointed the way and coveted the
+      archbishopric.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wished only to make him great;&rdquo; but the prelate lowered his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And share his greatness,&rdquo; was the shrewd rejoinder. &ldquo;I am an old man, and
+      frankness in old age is pardonable. There are numbers of disinterested men
+      in the world, but unfortunately they happen to be dead. O, I do not blame
+      you; there is human nature in most of us. But the days of Richelieus and
+      Mazarins are past. The Church is simply the church, and is no longer the
+      power behind the throne. I have served the house of Auersperg for fifty
+      years, that is to say, since I was sixteen; I had hoped to die in the
+      service. Perhaps my own reason for distrusting you has not been
+      disinterested.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And as I now stand I shall die neither in the service of the house of
+      Auersperg nor of Osia. It is not the princess; it is the lonely girl.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I need not tell you,&rdquo; said the prelate quietly, &ldquo;that I am in Bleiberg
+      only for that purpose. And since we are together, I will tell you this:
+      Madame the duchess will never sit upon this throne. To-day I am
+      practically regent, with full powers from his Majesty. I have summoned von
+      Wallenstein and Mollendorf for a purpose which I shall make known to you.&rdquo;
+       He held up two documents, and gently waving them: &ldquo;These contain the
+      dismissal of both gentlemen, together with my reasons. There were three;
+      one I shall now destroy because it has suddenly become void.&rdquo; He tore it
+      up, turned, and flung the pieces into the grate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Marshal glanced instinctively at his shoulder straps, and saw that
+      they had come very near to oblivion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is nothing more, Marshal,&rdquo; went on the prelate. &ldquo;What I had to say
+      to you has slipped my mind. Under the change of circumstances, it might
+      embarrass you to meet von Wallenstein and Mollendorf. You have spoken
+      frankly, and in justice to you I will return in kind. Yes, in the old days
+      I was ambitious; but God has punished me through those I love. I shall
+      leave to you the selection of a new Colonel of the cuirassiers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What! and Beauvais, too?&rdquo; exclaimed the Marshal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. My plans require it. I have formed a new cabinet, which will meet
+      to-night at eight. I shall expect you to be present.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The two old men rose. Suddenly, a kindly smile broke through the
+      austereness of the prelate's countenance, and he thrust out his hand; the
+      old soldier met it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Providence always watches over the innocent,&rdquo; said the prelate, &ldquo;else we
+      would have been still at war. Good morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Marshal returned home, thoughtful and taciturn. What would be the end?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Ten minutes after the Marshal's departure, von Wallenstein and Mollendorf
+      entered the prelate's breakfast room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good morning, Messieurs,&rdquo; said the churchman, the expression on his face
+      losing its softness, and the glint of triumph stealing into his keen eyes.
+      &ldquo;I am acting on behalf of his Majesty this morning,&rdquo; presenting a document
+      to each. &ldquo;Observe them carefully.&rdquo; He turned and left the room. The
+      archbishop had not only eaten a breakfast, he had devoured a cabinet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Count von Wallenstein watched the retreating figure of the prelate till
+      the door closed behind it; then he smiled at Mollendorf, who had not the
+      courage to return it, and who stared at the parchment in his hand as if it
+      were possessed of basilisk eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monseigneur,&rdquo; said the count, as he glanced through the contents of the
+      document, &ldquo;has forestalled me. Well, well; I do not begrudge him his last
+      card. He has played it; let us go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; faltered Mollendorf, &ldquo;he has played his first card. What are
+      you going to do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Remain at home and wait. And I shall not have long to wait. The end is
+      near.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Count, I tell you that the archbishop is not a man to play thus unless
+      something strong were behind him. You do wrong not to fear him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Wallenstein recalled the warning of the Colonel of the cuirassiers.
+      &ldquo;Nevertheless, we are too strong to fear him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monseigneur is in correspondence with Austria,&rdquo; said the minister of
+      police, quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You said nothing of this before,&rdquo; was the surprised reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was only this morning that I learned it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The count's gaze roamed about the room, and finally rested on the charred
+      slips of paper in the grate. He shrugged.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If he corresponds with Austria it is too late,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Come, let us
+      go.&rdquo; He snapped his fingers in the air, and Mollendorf followed him from
+      the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      * * * * * *
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The princess still remained on the rustic bench; her head was bowed, but
+      her tears were dried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O, Bull,&rdquo; she whispered, &ldquo;and you and I shall soon be all alone!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A few doves fluttered about her; the hills flamed beneath the chill
+      September sky, the waters sang and laughed, but she saw not nor heard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIX. A CHANCE RIDE IN THE NIGHT
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Maurice, who had wisely slept the larger part of the day, and amused
+      himself at solitary billiards until dinner, came out on the terrace to
+      smoke his after-dinner cigar. He watched the sun as, like a ball of rusted
+      brass, it slid down behind the hills, leaving the glowing embers of a
+      smoldering day on the hilltops. The vermilion deepened into charred umber,
+      and soon the west was a blackened grate; another day vanished in ashes.
+      The filmy golden pallor of twilight now blurred the landscape; the wind
+      increased with a gayer, madder, keener touch; the lake went billowing in
+      shadows of gray and black, and one by one the lamps of the city sprang up,
+      vivid as sparks from an anvil. Now and again the thin, clear music of the
+      band drifted across from the park. The fountain glimmered in the Platz,
+      the cafes began to glitter, carriages rolled hither and thither. The city
+      had taken on its colorful night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, here's another day gone,&rdquo; he mused, rubbing his elbow, which was
+      yet stiff. &ldquo;I am anxious to know what that sinner is doing. Has he pulled
+      up stakes or has he stayed to get a whack at me? I hope he's gone; he's a
+      bad Indian, and if anything, he'll want my scalp in his belt before he
+      goes. Hang it! It seems that I have poked my head into every bear trap in
+      the kingdom. I may not get out of the next one. How clever I was, to be
+      sure! It all comes from loving the dramatic. I am a diplomat, but nobody
+      would guess it at first sight. To talk to a man as I talked to him, and to
+      threaten! He said I was young; I was, but I grow older every day. And the
+      wise word now is, don't imitate the bull of the trestle,&rdquo; as he recalled
+      an American cartoon which at that day was having vogue in the American
+      colony in Vienna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I like adventure, I know, but I'm going to give the Colonel a wide berth.
+      If he sees me first, off the board I go. Where will he go&mdash;to the
+      duchy? I trust not; we both can not settle in that territory; it's too
+      small. And yet I am bound to go back; it is not my promise so much as it
+      is my cursed curiosity. By George!&rdquo; rubbing his elbow gently. &ldquo;And to
+      think, Maurice, that you might not have witnessed this sunset but for a
+      bit of fencing trickery. What a turn that picture of Inez gave me! I knew
+      him in a second&mdash;and like the ass I was, I told him so. And to meet
+      him here, almost a left-handed king; no wonder I did not recognize him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should like to come in on Fitzgerald to-night. His father must have had
+      a crazy streak in him somewhere. Four millions to throw away; humph! And
+      who the deuce has those certificates?&rdquo; He lolled against the parapet. &ldquo;If
+      I had four millions, and if Prince Frederick had disappeared for good....
+      Why are things so jumbled up, at sixes and sevens? We are all human
+      beings; why should some be placed higher than others? A prince is no
+      better than I am, and may be not half so good.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sometimes I like to get up high somewhere and look down on every one
+      else; every one else looks so small that it's comforting. The true
+      philosopher has no desire; he sits down and views the world as if he were
+      not a part of it. Perhaps it is best so. Yes, I would like four millions
+      and a principality.... Heigho! how bracing the air is, and what a night
+      for a ride! I've a mind to exercise Madame's horse. A long lone ride on
+      the opposite side of the lake, on the road to Italy; come, let's try it.
+      Better that than mope.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He mounted to the veranda, and for the first time he noticed the
+      suppressed excitement which lit the faces of those around him. Groups were
+      gathered here and there, talking, gesticulating, and flourishing the
+      evening papers. He moved toward the nearest group.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The archbishop has dismissed the cabinet... crisis imminent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Austrian minister has recalled his invitations to the embassy ball.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The archbishop will not be able to form another cabinet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Count von Wallenstein...&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mollendorf and Beauvais, too&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The king is dying... The archbishop has been given full powers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The army will revolt unless Beauvais is recalled.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the Marshal says here...&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice waited to hear no more, but climbed through the window into the
+      office.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By George, something has happened since last night. I must have an
+      evening paper.&rdquo; He found one, and read an elaborate account of what had
+      taken place during the day. Von Wallenstein had been relieved of the
+      finance. Mollendorf of the police, Erzberg of foreign affairs, and
+      Beauvais of his epaulettes. There remained only the archbishop, the
+      chancellor and the Marshal. The editorial was virulent in its attack on
+      the archbishop, blustered and threatened, and predicted that the fall of
+      the dynasty was but a matter of a few hours. For it asserted that the
+      prelate could not form another cabinet, and without a cabinet there could
+      be no government. It was not possible for the archbishop to shoulder the
+      burden alone; he must reinstate the ministry or fall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And this is the beginning of the end,&rdquo; said Maurice, throwing aside the
+      paper. &ldquo;What will happen next? The old prelate is not a man to play to the
+      gallery. Has he found out the double dealing of Beauvais? That takes a
+      burden off my shoulders&mdash;unless he goes at once to the duchy. But why
+      wasn't the cabinet dismissed ages ago? It is now too late. And where is
+      Prince Frederick to the rescue? There is something going on, and what it
+      is only the archbishop knows. That smile of his! How will it end? I'd like
+      to see von Mitter, who seems to be a good gossip. And that poor,
+      friendless, paralytic king! I say, but it makes the blood grow warm.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He left the chair and paced the office confines. Only one thing went
+      echoing through his brain, and that was he could do nothing. The sooner he
+      settled down in the attitude of a spectator the better for him. Besides,
+      he was an official in the employ of a foreign country, and it would be the
+      height of indiscretion to meddle, even in a private capacity. It would be
+      to jeopardize his diplomatic career, and that would be ridiculous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A porter touched him on the shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A letter for your Excellency.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was from the American minister in Vienna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Carewe: I have a service to ask of you. The British minister is
+      worried over the disappearance of a fellow-countryman, Lord Fitzgerald. He
+      set out for Bleiberg, leaving instructions to look him up if nothing was
+      heard of him within a week. Two weeks have gone. Knowing you to be in
+      Bleiberg, I believed you might take the trouble to look into the affair.
+      The British ambassador hints at strange things, as if he feared foul play.
+      I shall have urgent need of you by the first of October; our charge
+      d'affaires is to return home on account of ill-health, and your
+      appointment to that office is a matter of a few days.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice whistled. &ldquo;That is good news; not Haine's illness, but that I have
+      an excuse to meddle here. I'll telegraph at once. And I'll take the ride
+      besides.&rdquo; He went to his room and buckled on his spurs, and thoughtfully
+      slipped his revolver into a pocket. &ldquo;I am not going to take any chances,
+      even in the dark.&rdquo; Once again in the office, he stepped up to the desk and
+      ordered his horse to be brought around to the cafe entrance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; said the clerk. Then in low tones &ldquo;There has been a curious
+      exchange in saddles, Monsieur.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Saddles?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. The saddle in your stall is, curiously enough, stamped with the arms
+      of the house of Auersperg. How that military saddle came into the stables
+      is more than the grooms can solve.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O,&rdquo; said Maurice, with an assumption of carelessness; &ldquo;that is all right.
+      It's the saddle I arrived on. The horse and saddle belong to Madame the
+      duchess. I have been visiting at the Red Chateau. I shall return in the
+      morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; said the clerk, with a furtive smile which Maurice lost; &ldquo;that
+      accounts for the mystery.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here are two letters that must get in to-night's mails,&rdquo; Maurice said;
+      &ldquo;and also this telegram should be sent at once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As Monsieur desires. Ah, I came near forgetting. There is a note for
+      Monsieur, which came this afternoon while Monsieur was asleep.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The envelope was unstamped, and the scrawl was unfamiliar to Maurice. On
+      opening it he was surprised to find a hurriedly written note from
+      Fitzgerald. In all probability it had been brought by the midnight courier
+      on his return from the duchy.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;In God's name, Maurice, why do you linger?
+     To-morrow morning those consols must be here
+     or they will be useless. Hasten; you know what
+     it means to me.
+                                 Fitzgerald.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Maurice perused it twice, and pulled at his lips. &ldquo;Madame becomes
+      impatient. Poor devil. Somebody is likely to become suddenly rich and
+      somebody correspondingly poor. What will they say when I return
+      empty-handed? Like as not Madame will accuse me&mdash;and Fitzgerald will
+      believe her!... The archbishop! That accounts for this bold move. And how
+      the deuce did he get hold of them? I give up.&rdquo; And his shoulders settled
+      in resignation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He passed down into the cafe, from there to his horse, which a groom was
+      holding at the curb. He swung into the saddle and tossed a coin to the
+      man, who touched his cap.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The early moon lifted its silvery bulk above the ragged east, and the
+      patches of clouds which swarmed over the face of that white world of
+      silence resembled so many rooks. Far away, at the farthermost shore of the
+      lake, whenever the moon went free from the clouds, Maurice could see the
+      slim gray line of the road which stretched toward Italy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's a fine night,&rdquo; he mused, glancing heavenward. The horse answered the
+      touch of the spurs, and cantered away, glad enough to exchange the close
+      air of the stables for this fresh gift of the night. Maurice guided him
+      around the palaces into the avenue, which derived its name from the
+      founder of the opera, in which most of the diplomatic families lived. Past
+      the residence of Beauvais he went, and, gazing up at the lightless
+      windows, a cold of short duration seized his spine. It bad been a hair's
+      breadth betwixt him and death. &ldquo;Your room, Colonel, is better than your
+      company; and hereafter I shall endeavor to avoid both. I shall feel that
+      cursed blade of yours for weeks to come.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Carriages rolled past him. A gay throng in evening dress was crowding into
+      the opera. The huge placard announced, &ldquo;Norma&mdash;Mlle. Lenormand&mdash;Royal
+      Opera Troupe.&rdquo; How he would have liked to hear it, with Lenormand in the
+      title role. He laughed as he recalled the episodes in Vienna which were
+      associated with this queen of song. He waved his hand as the opera house
+      sank in the distance. &ldquo;Au revoir, Celeste, ma charmante; adieu.&rdquo; By and by
+      he reached the deserted part of the city, and in less than a quarter of an
+      hour branched off into the broad road bordering the lake. The horse
+      quickened his gait as he felt the stone of the streets no longer beneath
+      his feet, which now fell with muffled rhythm on the sound earth. Maurice
+      shared with him the delight of the open country, and began to talk to the
+      animal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A fine night, eh, old boy? I've ridden many backs, but none easier than
+      yours. This air is what gives the blood its color. Too bad; you ought not
+      to belong to Madame. She will never think as much of you as I should.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The city was falling away behind, and a yellow vapor rose over it. The
+      lake tumbled in moonshine. Maurice took to dreaming again&mdash;hope and a
+      thousand stars, love and a thousand dreams.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God knows I love her; but what's the use? We can not all have what we
+      want; let us make the best of what we have. Philosophy is a comfort only
+      to old age. Why should youth bother to reason why? And I&mdash;I have not
+      yet outgrown youth. I believed I had, but I have not. I did not dream she
+      existed, and now she is more to me than anything else in the world. Why; I
+      wonder why? I look into a pair of brown eyes, and am seized with madness.
+      I hope. For what? O, Bucephalus! let us try to wake and leave the dream
+      behind. The gratitude of a princess and a dog... and for this a rose.
+      Well, it will prove the substance of many a pipe, many a kindly pipe. You
+      miss a good deal, Bucephalus; smoking is an evil habit only to those who
+      have not learned to smoke.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The animal replied with a low whinney, and Maurice, believing that the
+      horse had given an ear to his monologue, laughed. But he flattered
+      himself. The horse whinneyed because he inhaled the faint odor of his
+      kind. He drew down on the rein and settled into a swinging trot, which to
+      Maurice's surprise was faster and easier than the canter. They covered a
+      mile this way, when Maurice's roving eye discovered moving shadows,
+      perhaps half a mile in advance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hello! we're not the only ones jogging along. Eh, what's that?&rdquo; Something
+      flashed brightly, like silver reflecting moonlight; then came a spark of
+      flame, which died immediately, and later Maurice caught an echo which
+      resembled the bursting of a leaf against the lips. &ldquo;Come; that looks like
+      a pistol shot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again the flash of silver, broader and clearer this time; and Maurice
+      could now separate the shadow-shapes. A carriage of some sort rolled from
+      side to side, and two smaller shadows followed its wild flight. One&mdash;two&mdash;three
+      times Maurice saw the sparks and heard the faint reports. He became
+      excited. Something extraordinary was taking place on the lonely road.
+      Suddenly the top of the carriage replied with spiteful flashes of red.
+      Then the moon came out from behind the clouds, and the picture was vividly
+      outlined. Two continuous flashes of silver.... Cuirassiers! Maurice
+      loosened the rein, and the horse went forward as smoothly as a sail. The
+      distance grew visibly less. The carriage opened fire again, and Maurice
+      heard the sinister m-m-m of a bullet winging past him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The wrong man may get hit, Bucephalus,&rdquo; he said, bending to the neck of
+      the horse; &ldquo;which is not unusual. You're pulling them down, old boy; keep
+      it up. There's trouble ahead, and since the cuirassiers are for the king,
+      we'll stand by the cuirassiers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      On they flew, nearer and nearer, until the pistol shots were no longer
+      echoes. Two other horsemen came into view, in advance of the carriage.
+      Five minutes more of this exciting chase, and the faces took on lines and
+      grew into features. Up, up crept the gallant little horse, his hoofs
+      rattling against the road like snares on a drum. When within a dozen rods,
+      Maurice saw one of the cuirassiers turn and level a revolver at him.
+      Fortunately the horse swerved, and the ball went wide.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't shoot!&rdquo; Maurice yelled; &ldquo;don't shoot!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The face he saw was von Mitter's. His heart clogged in his throat, not at
+      the danger which threatened him, but at the thought of what that carriage
+      might contain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A short time passed, during which nothing was heard but the striking of
+      galloping hoofs and the rumble of the carriage. Maurice soon drew abreast
+      of von Mitter. There was a gash on the latter's cheek, and the blood from
+      it dripped on his cuirass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Close for you, my friend,&rdquo; he gasped; when he recognized the new arrival.
+      &ldquo;Have you&mdash;God! my leg that time,&rdquo; with a groan.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For the fire of the carriage had spoken again, and true.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice shut his teeth, drew his revolver, cocked it and applied the
+      spurs. With a bound he shot past von Mitter, who was cursing deeply and
+      trying to reload. Maurice did not propose to waste powder on the driver,
+      but was determined to bring down one of the carriage horses, which were
+      marvelous brutes for speed. Scharfenstein kept popping away at the driver,
+      but without apparent result. Finally Maurice secured the desired range. He
+      raised the revolver, rested the barrel between the left thumb and
+      forefinger and pressed the trigger. The nearest carriage horse lurched to
+      his knees, a bullet in his brain, dragging his mate with him. The race had
+      come to an end.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At once the two horsemen in front separated; one continued toward the
+      great forest, while the other took to the hills. Scharfenstein started in
+      pursuit of the latter. As for the carriage, it came to an abrupt stand.
+      The driver made a flying leap toward the lake, but stumbled and fell, and
+      before he could regain his feet Maurice was off his horse and on his
+      quarry. He caught the fellow by the throat and pressed him to the earth,
+      kneeling on his chest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hold him!&rdquo; cried von Mitter, coming up with a limp, &ldquo;hold him till I
+      knock in his head, damn him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no!&rdquo; said Maurice, &ldquo;you can't get information out of a dead man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's all up with me,&rdquo; groaned the Lieutenant. &ldquo;I'll ask for my discharge.
+      I could hit nothing, my hand trembled. I was afraid of shooting into the
+      carriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice turned his attention to the man beneath him. &ldquo;Now, you devil,&rdquo; he
+      cried, &ldquo;a clean breast of it, or off the board you go. O!&rdquo; suddenly
+      peering down. &ldquo;By the Lord, so it is you&mdash;you&mdash;you!&rdquo; savagely
+      bumping the fellow's head against the earth. &ldquo;Spy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are killing me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Small matter. Who is this fellow?&rdquo; asked Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Johann Kopf, a spy, a police rat, and God knows what else,&rdquo; answered von
+      Mitter, limping toward the carriage. &ldquo;Curse the leg!&rdquo; He forced the door
+      and peered inside. &ldquo;Fainted! I thought as much.&rdquo; He lifted the inanimate
+      bundle which lay huddled in between the seats and carried it to the side
+      of the road, where he tenderly laid it. He rubbed the girl's wrists,
+      unmindful of the blood which fell from his face and left dark stains on
+      her dress. &ldquo;Thank God,&rdquo; heartily, &ldquo;that her Royal Highness was suffering
+      from a headache. She would have died from fright.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice felt the straining cords in the prisoner's neck grow limp. The
+      rascal had fainted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not her Highness?&rdquo; Maurice asked, the weight of dread lifting from his
+      heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. Her Royal Highness sent Camille, her maid of honor, veiled and
+      dressed like herself, to play an innocent jest on her old nurse. Some one
+      shall account for this; for they mistook Camille for her Highness. I'm
+      going to wade out into the water,&rdquo; von Mitter added, staggering to his
+      feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll never get off your boot,&rdquo; said Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll cut it off,&rdquo; was the reply, &ldquo;I shall faint if I do not cool off the
+      leg. The ball is somewhere in the calf.&rdquo; And he waded out into the water
+      until it reached above his knees. Thus he stood for a moment, then
+      returned to the maid, who, on opening her eyes, screamed. &ldquo;It is all over,
+      Camille,&rdquo; said the Lieutenant, throwing an arm about her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your face is bleeding!&rdquo; she cried, and sank back with her head against
+      his broad breast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As Maurice gazed at the pair he sighed. There were no obstacles here.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Soon Scharfenstein came loping down the hill alone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I killed his horse,&rdquo; he said, in response to queries, &ldquo;but he fled into
+      the woods where I could not follow. A bad night for us, Carl, a bad
+      night,&rdquo; swinging off his horse. &ldquo;A boy would have done better work. Whom
+      have we here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kopf,&rdquo; said Maurice, &ldquo;and he has a ball somewhere inside,&rdquo; holding up a
+      bloody hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kopf?&rdquo; Scharfenstein cocked his revolver.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The maid of honor placed her hands over her ears and screamed again. Max
+      gazed at her, and, with a short, Homeric laugh, lowered the revolver.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Any time will do,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Ah, he opens his eyes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The prisoner's eyes rolled wildly about. That frowning face above him...
+      was it a vision? Who was it? What was he doing here?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who put you up to this?&rdquo; demanded Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are choking me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who, I say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Beauvais.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Scharfenstein and von Mitter looked at each other comprehensively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is this Beauvais? Speak!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am dying, Herr... Your knees&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice withdrew his knees. &ldquo;Beauvais; who is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Prince... Walmoden, formerly of the emperor's staff.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Johann's eyes closed again, and his head fell to one side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He looks as if he were done for,&rdquo; said Maurice, standing up. &ldquo;Let us
+      clear up the rubbish and hitch a horse to the carriage. The mate's all
+      right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Mitter assisted the maid into the carriage and seated her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go and stay with her,&rdquo; said Maurice, brusquely; &ldquo;you're half fainting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very handy, Carewe,&rdquo; said von Mitter gratefully, and he climbed
+      in beside the maid, who, her fright gone, gave way to womanly instincts.
+      She took her kerchief and wiped the Lieutenant's cheek, pressing his hand
+      in hers the while.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice and Scharfenstein worked away at the traces, and dragged the dead
+      horse to the side of the road. Scharfenstein brought around von Mitter's
+      horse, took oft the furnishings, and backed him into the pole.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meanwhile the man lying by the water's edge showed signs of returning
+      life. He turned his head cautiously. His enemies were a dozen yards away
+      from him. Slowly he rolled over on his stomach, thence to his knees. They
+      were paying no attention to him....
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ho, there! the prisoner!&rdquo; cried von Mitter, tumbling out of the carriage.
+      He tried to stand up, but a numbness seized his legs, and he sank to a
+      sitting posture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice and Scharfenstein turned too late. Johann had mounted on
+      Scharfenstein's horse, and was flying away down the road. Maurice coolly
+      leveled his revolver and sent two bullets after him. The second one caused
+      Johann to straighten stiffly, then to sink; but he hung on to the horse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hurry!&rdquo; cried Maurice; &ldquo;I've hit him and we'll find him along the road
+      somewhere.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They lifted von Mitter into the carriage, wheeled it about, and
+      Scharfenstein mounted the box. Maurice sprang into his saddle, and they
+      clattered off toward the city.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XX. THE LAST STAND OF A BAD SERVANT
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The cuirassiers stationed in the guardroom of the royal palace walked
+      gently on the tiling, when occasion required them to walk, and when they
+      entered or left the room, they were particularly careful to avoid the
+      chink of the spur or the clank of the saber. Although the royal bedchamber
+      was many doors removed, the Captain had issued a warning against any
+      unnecessary noise. A loud laugh, or the falling of a saber carelessly
+      rested, drew upon the unlucky offender the scowling eyes of the commander,
+      who reclined in front of the medieval fireplace, in which a solitary log
+      burned, and brooded over past and present. The high revels in the
+      guardroom were no more, the cuirassiers were no longer made up of the
+      young nobles of the kingdom; they were now merely watch dogs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Twenty years ago the commander had come from Dresden as an instructor in
+      arms, and after the first year had watched over the royal household, in
+      the service of the late king and the king who lay dying. He had come of
+      good family, but others had come off better, and had carried off court
+      honors, though his post in early days had been envied by many. He was
+      above all else a soldier, the embodiment of patience and integrity, and he
+      scorned to murmur because fortune had passed over his head. As he sucked
+      at his pipe, he recalled the days of Albrecht and his opera singers, the
+      court scandals, and his own constant employment as messenger in the king's
+      love intrigues.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Albrecht had died a widower and childless, and with him had died the
+      flower of court life. The courtiers and sycophants had flocked to the
+      standard of the duke, and had remained there, primarily because Leopold of
+      Osia promised a sedate and exemplary life. Sometimes the Captain shook his
+      head, as if communing with some unpleasant thought. On each side of him
+      sat a soldier, also smoking and ruminating.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the mess table a dozen or so whiled away the time at cards. The
+      wavering lights of the candle and hearth cast warring shadows on the wall
+      and floor, and the gun and saber racks twinkled. If the players spoke, it
+      was in tones inaudible to the Captain's ears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our bread and butter,&rdquo; said the Captain softly, &ldquo;are likely to take unto
+      themselves the proverbial wings and fly away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      No one replied. The Captain was a man who frequently spoke his thoughts
+      aloud, and required no one to reply to his disjointed utterances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A soldier of fortune,&rdquo; he went on, &ldquo;pins his faith and zeal to standards
+      which to-day rise and to-morrow fall. Unfortunately, he takes it at flood
+      tide, which immediately begins to ebb.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The men on either side of him nodded wisely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The king can no longer speak. That is why the archbishop has dismissed
+      the cabinet. While he could speak, his Majesty refused to listen to the
+      downfall of his enemies. Why? Look to heaven; heaven only can answer. How
+      many men of the native troops are quartered in these buildings? Not one&mdash;which
+      is bad. Formerly they were in the majority. Extraordinary. His Majesty
+      would have made friends with them, but the archbishop, an estimable man in
+      his robes, practically ostracized them. Bad, very bad. Had we been
+      comrades, there might be a different end.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Faugh! if one of us sticks his head into the city barracks a breath of
+      ice is our reward. Kronau never attends the receptions. A little flattery,
+      which costs nothing, and they would have been willing to die for his
+      Majesty. Now&mdash;&rdquo; He knocked his pipe on the firedog. &ldquo;Now, they would
+      not lift a finger. A soldier will forgive all things but premeditated
+      neglect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As for me, when the time comes I shall return to Dresden and die of old
+      age. Maybe, though, I shan't. When his Majesty dies there is like to be a
+      clash. The duchess is a clever woman, but she would make a balky wife; a
+      capillary affection which runs in the family. Red hair in a man is useful;
+      in a woman it is unmanageable.&rdquo; He refilled his pipe and motioned toward
+      the tongs. The soldier nearest caught up a brand and held it out. The
+      Captain laid his pipe against it and drew. &ldquo;It's a dreary watch I have
+      from ten till daylight, in his Majesty's antechamber, but he will trust no
+      other man at that post.&rdquo; And with this he fell into silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Some time passed. Twice the Captain pulled out his watch and looked at it.
+      Shortly after nine o'clock the beat of hoofs came up the driveway, and the
+      Captain turned his head toward the entrance and waited. A moment later the
+      door opened and three men stood framed in the doorway. Two of them&mdash;one
+      in civilian dress&mdash;were endeavoring to hold up a third between them.
+      The central figure presented an alarming picture. His cuirass and white
+      trousers were splashed with blood, and his head rolled from side to side,
+      almost insensibly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A thousand devils!&rdquo; exclaimed the Captain at the sight of this unexpected
+      tableau. He sprang up, toppling over his chair. &ldquo;What's this? Von Mitter?
+      Blood? Have those damned students&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A brush on the lake road,&rdquo; interrupted Sharfenstein, breathlessly. &ldquo;Help
+      him over to a chair, Monsieur Carewe. That's it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you a knife, Captain?&rdquo; asked Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Captain whipped out his knife, locked it, and gave it to Maurice.
+      &ldquo;Riemer,&rdquo; he called to one of the cuirassiers, who were rising from the
+      mess table, &ldquo;bring out your box of instruments; and you, Scharfenstein, a
+      basin of cold water. Quick!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice knelt and deftly cut away the Lieutenant's boot. A pool of blood
+      collected on the floor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God save us!&rdquo; cried the Captain, &ldquo;his boot is full of blood.&rdquo; He turned
+      to Scharfenstein, who was approaching with the basin. &ldquo;What has happened,
+      Max?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Scharfenstein briefly explained.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Kopf?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Got away, curse him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the others?&rdquo; with a lowering brow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They all got away,&rdquo; adding an oath under his breath. Max set the basin on
+      the floor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bad, very bad. Why didn't you shoot?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was afraid of hitting Mademoiselle Bachelier,&rdquo; Maurice interposed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Max threw him a grateful look.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; The Captain called his men around him. &ldquo;Two of you&mdash;. But
+      wait. Who's back of Kopf?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our distinguished Colonel,&rdquo; snapped Max, &ldquo;who was this day relieved of
+      his straps. A case of revenge, probably.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Beauvais! Ah, ah!&rdquo; The Captain smiled grimly. He had always hated
+      Beauvais, who had, for no obvious reason, passed him and grasped the
+      coveted colonelcy, and because, curiously enough, the native troops had
+      made an idol of him. &ldquo;Beauvais? I am not surprised. An adventurer, with
+      neither kith nor country.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is Prince Walmoden,&rdquo; said Maurice, &ldquo;and for some reason not known, the
+      emperor has promised to recall him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This information caused the Captain to step back, and he muttered the name
+      several times. &ldquo;Austria....&rdquo; A gloom settled on his face. &ldquo;No matter.
+      Prince or no prince, or had he one thousand emperors behind him, no
+      matter. Four of you seek him and arrest him. If he offers resistance,
+      knock him on the head, but arrest him. A traitor is without name, country
+      or respect. His purpose... Never mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Four of you seek for Kopf. Look into Stuler's, in at the opera, and
+      follow Kopf's woman home. I'll take it upon myself to telegraph the
+      frontier to allow no one to cross on the pain of being shot. Pass the word
+      to the officers in the stables. Hurry away before the archbishop hears of
+      the matter. Away with you, and quietly. And one of you seek that blockhead
+      of a coachman, who did not know enough to come back here and inform us.
+      Beauvais, make him a prisoner, you are not to know why. As for Kopf, dead
+      or alive&mdash;alive will be less convenient for all concerned. Off with
+      you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The guardroom was at once emptied, and the cuirassiers turned off toward
+      the stables, where the main body of the troops was stationed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Riemer, who was both surgeon and soldier, probed the wound in von Miner's
+      leg and extracted the bullet, which had lodged in the fleshy part of the
+      calf. He applied cold water, lints and bandages. All the while von Mitter
+      sat in the chair, his eyes shut and his lips closed tightly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There!&rdquo; said the surgeon, standing up, &ldquo;that's better. The loss of blood
+      is the worst part of it.&rdquo; Next he took a few stitches in the cut on the
+      cheek and threw his cloak over the wounded man's knee. &ldquo;He'll be all right
+      in a day or so, though he'll limp. Carl?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O, I'm sound enough,&rdquo; answered von Mitter, opening his eyes. &ldquo;A little
+      weak in the knees, that's all. I shouldn't have given in, only Kopf got
+      away when we had him fair and fast. We found his horse wandering about the
+      Frohngarten, but no sign of Johann. He's got it, though, square in the
+      back.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm sure of it,&rdquo; said Maurice, who leaned over the back of the speaker's
+      chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Captain eyed him inquiringly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me,&rdquo; said Scharfenstein. &ldquo;Captain, Monsieur Carewe, an American
+      tourist, formerly of the United States cavalry. And a pretty shot, too, by
+      the book! It would have gone badly with us but for him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My thanks,&rdquo; said the Captain, with a jerky nod. &ldquo;Max, come, give me the
+      whole story.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Scharfenstein dropped into a chair and recounted in picturesque
+      diction the adventure; how they had remained by the royal carriage till
+      the nurse, recovering from her faint, had rushed out and told them of the
+      abduction; and the long race on the south shore. While he listened the
+      Captain smoked thoughtfully; and when the story was done, he rose and
+      wagged his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Call it revenge,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;if it strikes you in that light. Monsieur
+      Carewe, what is your opinion?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It occurs to me,&rdquo; answered Maurice, rubbing the scratch the late
+      Colonel's sword had left on his chin, &ldquo;it occurs to me that the man played
+      his hand a few days too late.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which is to say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I do not call it revenge,&rdquo; Maurice admitted, unwilling to venture
+      any theory.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No more do I;&rdquo; and the Captain began drumming on the mantel. &ldquo;What say,
+      Max; how would the illustrious Colonel look with the shadow of a crown on
+      his head? He comes from Austria, who, to my thinking, is cognizant of all
+      he does and has done.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The answer was not spoken. The door, leading to the main palace through
+      the kitchens, opened, and the Marshal, the princess, and the maid of honor
+      came down the steps. The Captain, Max and the surgeon stood at salute.
+      Maurice, however, drew back into the shadows at the side of the grate. The
+      old soldier gazed down at the pale face of the young Lieutenant, and
+      smiled kindly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Even the best of soldiers make mistakes,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;even the best. No,&rdquo;
+       as von Mitter made an attempt to speak. &ldquo;I've heard all about it, and from
+      a most reliable source,&rdquo; nodding toward the anxious maid of honor.
+      &ldquo;Colonel,&rdquo; he addressed the Captain, whose eyes started at this
+      appellation, &ldquo;Colonel, you will report to me in the morning to assume your
+      new duties. You have been a faithful Captain and a good soldier. I know
+      your value, your name and your antecedents, which till now was more than I
+      knew of your late predecessor. Von Mitter will take upon himself your
+      duties as Captain of the household troop; and you, Scharfenstein, will
+      hereafter take charge of her Royal Highness's carriage, and you may choose
+      whom you will as your comrade.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have always tried to do my duty,&rdquo; said von Mitter. He felt a small hand
+      secretly press his.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you have always succeeded, Captain,&rdquo; said a voice which made
+      Maurice's foolish heart leap. &ldquo;See, I am the first to give you your new
+      rank. How you must suffer!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God bless your Royal Highness!&rdquo; murmured the fellow, at once racked with
+      pain and happiness. &ldquo;But I am not the one you must thank for this night's
+      work.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Marshal peered at the silent figure beyond the fireplace. Maurice was
+      compelled to stand forth. &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said the Marshal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; went on von Mitter, &ldquo;but for him no one knows what the end might
+      have been. And I, thinking him one of the abducting party coming up from
+      the rear, shot at him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The princess took a step forward, anxiety widening her dark eyes; and the
+      swift glance added to the fever in the recipient's veins.... How beautiful
+      she was, and how far away! He laid his hand on the top of von Mitter's
+      chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur Carewe,&rdquo; said the Marshal, &ldquo;seems to have plenty of leisure time
+      on his hands&mdash;fortunately for us. You were not hit?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O, no,&rdquo; said Maurice, blushing. He had discerned an undercurrent of
+      raillery in the Marshal's tones. &ldquo;The ball came close to my ear, that was
+      all. It is strange how that fellow got away. I am positive that I hit
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We shall find him,&rdquo; said the Marshal, with a look at the newly-appointed
+      Colonel which said: &ldquo;Your straps hang in the balance.&rdquo; He rubbed his nose.
+      &ldquo;Well, is your Royal Highness satisfied that there is no danger?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Marshal; but think, if he should have been killed! Ah, what does it
+      all mean? What had this man against me, who have always been kind to him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We shall, with your Highness's permission,&rdquo; said the Marshal, &ldquo;leave all
+      questions to the future. Let us return to the archbishop, who is doubtless
+      awaiting the news. Take good care of yourself, Captain. To-morrow,
+      Colonel; good evening to you, Monsieur Carewe;&rdquo; and the terse old soldier
+      proceeded to the door and held it open for the women.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good night, Messieurs,&rdquo; said her Highness. &ldquo;I shall not forget. Thanks to
+      you, Captain.&rdquo; One more glance, and she was gone. But this glance
+      blossomed in one heart into a flower of hope.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Marshal, having closed the door behind the women, returned to the
+      group before the fireplace. They watched him interestedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Colonel,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;make no effort to seek Beauvais. As for Kopf, that is
+      different. But Beauvais&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To let him go?&rdquo; exclaimed the Colonel in dismay.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye, to let him go. We do not seek bears with birdshot, and that is all
+      we have. He will leave the country.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And go to the duchy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So much the better; when the time comes, our case against him will be so
+      much the stronger. Mind you, this is not from sentiment. I have none,&rdquo;
+       glaring around to see if any dared refute this assertion. &ldquo;It is policy,
+      and Monseigneur concurs with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I have sent men after him!&rdquo; cried the Colonel, in keen
+      disappointment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Send men after them to rescind the order.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And if they should catch him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let him go; that is my order. The servant will be sufficient for our
+      needs. Monsieur Carewe, I rely on your discretion;&rdquo; and the Marshal passed
+      into the kitchens.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The men looked at each other in silence. A moment later the Colonel dashed
+      from the room, off to the stables.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'm off,&rdquo; said Maurice. The desire to tell what he knew was
+      beginning to master him. It was too late now, he saw that. Besides, they
+      might take it into their heads to detain him. He put on his hat. &ldquo;Good
+      night; and good luck to your leg, Captain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Till to-morrow,&rdquo; said von Mitter, who had taken a fancy to the
+      smooth-faced young American, who seemed at home in all places.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am going away to-morrow,&rdquo; said Maurice, pressing the Lieutenant's hand.
+      &ldquo;I shall return in a day or so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He led his horse to the hotel stables, lit a fresh cigar and promenaded
+      the terrace. &ldquo;Some day,&rdquo; he mused, &ldquo;perhaps I'll be able to do something
+      for myself. To-morrow we'll take a look at Fitzgerald's affairs, like the
+      good fairy we are. If the Colonel is there, so much the worse for one or
+      the other of us.&rdquo; He laughed contentedly. &ldquo;Beauvais took my warning and
+      lit out, or his henchman would never have made a botch of the abduction.
+      It is my opinion that Madame wanted a hostage, for it is impossible to
+      conceive that the man made the attempt on his own responsibility. I shall
+      return to the duchy in a semi-official character as an envoy extraordinary
+      to look into the whereabouts of one Lord Fitzgerald. Devil take me, but I
+      did make a mess of it when I slapped him on the shoulder that night.&rdquo; The
+      princess had not addressed a word to him. Why?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the princess and her maid of honor had passed through the kitchens
+      into the princess's boudoir, the maid suddenly caught her mistress's hand
+      and imprinted a hasty kiss on it, to the latter's surprise and agitation.
+      There was something in that kiss which came nearer to sincere affection
+      than Mademoiselle Bachelier had ever shown before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Camille?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God bless your Highness!&rdquo; whispered the girl, again pressing the cold
+      hand to her lips. What had given rise to this new-born affection she
+      herself could not say, but a sudden wave of pity rushed into her heart.
+      Perhaps it was because she loved and was loved that caused this expansion
+      of heart toward her mistress, who was likely never to love or beget love,
+      who stood so lonely. Tears came into her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are hysterical!&rdquo; said the princess.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; it is because&mdash;because&mdash;&rdquo; She stopped and a blush suffused
+      her face and temples.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The princess took the face between her hands and gazed long and earnestly
+      into it. &ldquo;Have you discovered a belated pity in your heart for me? Or is
+      it because you thought him wounded unto death, and he was not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is both!&rdquo; weeping.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The princess put her arms around the maid. &ldquo;And you weep for happiness?
+      Let us weep together, then; only&mdash;I can not weep for happiness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To return to the flight of Kopf. As he dashed down the road he heard two
+      reports. At the second he experienced a terrible burning blow under the
+      right shoulder-blade, and immediately his arm became paralyzed. He
+      coughed. With a supreme effort he managed to recover his balance. Already
+      his collar-bone had been cracked by a bullet either from von Mitter or
+      from Scharfenstein.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God's curse on them all!&rdquo; he sobbed, pushing his knees into his horse;
+      &ldquo;God's curse!&rdquo; He bit his lips; and when he drew his breath the pain which
+      followed almost robbed him of his senses. Behind him the sound of hoofs
+      came no nearer; he had a chance. He could not look back to see if he
+      gained, however, as his neck was stiffening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Curse him and his damned gold! He never warned me as he said he would.&rdquo;
+       On he rode. The moon became obscured, and when it flashed again he could
+      see it but indistinctly.... To reach the city, to reach Gertrude's, to
+      give the horse a cut and send him adrift, this was his endeavor. But would
+      he reach the city&mdash;alive? Was he dying? He could not see... Yet again
+      he shut his jaws and drew on his entire strength. He was keeping in the
+      saddle by will power alone. If the horse faltered he was lost. To
+      Gertrude; she could use them. And after all he loved her. If he died she
+      would be provided for.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The first of the city lamps. He sobbed. Into this street he turned, into
+      that, expecting each moment to be challenged, for the white saddle blanket
+      of the cuirassiers stood out conspicuously. At last he had but a corner to
+      turn. He stopped, slid from the saddle and gave the animal a cut across
+      the face. The horse reared, then plunged forward at a wild gallop. Johann
+      staggered along the street, fumbling in his pockets for his keys.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gertrude of the opera company was usually in the ballet. To-night she had
+      left the stage after the first dance. She had complained of a severe
+      headache, and as the manager knew her worth he had permitted her
+      withdrawal from the corps. She lived off the Frohngarten, in an apartment
+      on the second floor, over a cheap restaurant. She was bathing her temples
+      in perfumed ammonia water, when she heard footsteps in the corridor, and
+      later the rasp of a key in the lock. As the door opened she beheld a
+      spectacle which caused her to scream.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush! Gertrude, I am dying.... Brandy! I must talk to you! Silence!&rdquo;
+       Johann tottered to a lounge and dropped on his side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman, still trembling with fright and terror, poured into her palm
+      some of the pungent liquid with which she had been bathing her temples,
+      and held it under his nose. It revived him. And in a few broken sentences
+      he made known to her what had happened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gertrude, I am lost!&rdquo; He breathed with difficulty. &ldquo;I have lived like a
+      rascal, and I die like one. But I have always loved you; I have always
+      been true to you; I have never beaten nor robbed you.&rdquo; His eyes closed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O God,&rdquo; she cried, &ldquo;what shall I do? Johann, you must not die! We will
+      leave the country together. Johann, you do not speak! Johann!&rdquo; She kissed
+      him, pressed him in her arms, regardless of the stains which these frantic
+      fondlings gathered from his breast. &ldquo;Johann!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rich,&rdquo; he said dreamily; &ldquo;rich... and to die like a dog!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She left him and rushed to the sideboard, poured out a tumbler of brandy,
+      and returned to his side. She raised his head, but he swallowed with
+      effort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the lungs,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;God! how it burns! Rich; we are rich, Gertrude;
+      a hundred thousand crowns.... And I am dying!... What a failure! Curse
+      them all; they never offered to lend a hand unless it led toward hell!
+      Gertrude... I must tell you. Here; here, put your hand in this pocket;
+      yes. Draw them out... A hundred thousand crowns!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman shuddered. Her hand and what it held were wet with blood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hide them!&rdquo; And Johann fainted away for the second time. When he came to
+      his senses, several minutes had passed. Quickly, with what remaining
+      strength he had, he unfolded his plan.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And her one idea was to save him. She drenched her handkerchief with the
+      ammonia, and bade him hold it to his nose, while she fetched a basin of
+      water and a sponge. Tenderly she drew back his coat and washed the blood
+      from his throat and lips, and moistened his hair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen!&rdquo; he cried suddenly, rising on his elbow. &ldquo;It is they! They have
+      found me! Quick! to the roof!&rdquo; He struggled to his feet, with that
+      strength which imparts itself to dying men, super-human while it lasts. He
+      threw one arm around her neck. &ldquo;Help me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And thus they gained the hall, mounted the flight to the roof, he groaning
+      and urging, she sobbing, hysterical, and frenzied. She climbed the ladder
+      with him, threw back the trap, and helped him on the roof.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now leave me!&rdquo; he said, kissing her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She gave him her lips, and went down to her rooms, and waited and waited.
+      This agony of suspense lasted a quarter of an hour, when again came the
+      clatter of hoofs. Would this, too, prove a false alarm? She held her hand
+      to her ear. If he were dying... They had stopped; they were mounting the
+      stairs; O God, they were beating on the door!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Open!&rdquo; cried a voice without; &ldquo;open in the king's name!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She gasped, but words would not come. She clenched her hands until the
+      nails sank into the flesh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Open, Madame, or down comes the door.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The actress in her came to the rescue. The calm of despair took possession
+      of her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In a moment, Messieurs,&rdquo; she said. Her voice was without agitation. She
+      opened the door and the cuirassiers pushed past her. &ldquo;In heaven's name,
+      Messieurs, what does this mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We want Johann Kopf,&rdquo; was the answer, &ldquo;and we have it from good authority
+      that he is here. Do not interfere with us; you are in no wise connected
+      with the affair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is not here,&rdquo; she replied. She wondered at herself, her tones were so
+      even, her mind was so clear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One of the cuirassiers caught up her gown. &ldquo;What's this, Madame?&rdquo; he
+      demanded, pointing to the dark wet stains; &ldquo;and this?&rdquo; to her hands, &ldquo;and
+      this?&rdquo; to the spots on the carpet, the basin and the sponge. &ldquo;To the roof,
+      men; he has gone by the roof! Up with you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The ballet dancer held forth her hands in supplication; life forsook her
+      limbs; she sank.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The cuirassiers rushed to the roof.... When they came down it was slowly
+      and carefully. What they had found on the roof was of no use to them. They
+      laid the inanimate thing on the lounge, and frowned. One of the
+      cuirassiers lifted the ballet dancer and carried her into her bed-room,
+      and laid her on the bed. He had not the heart to revive her. Death softens
+      all angers; even an enemy is no longer such when dead. And Johann Kopf was
+      dead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXI. A COURT FETE AT THE RED CHATEAU
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      At eight o'clock of the following evening, that is to say, the nineteenth
+      of September, Maurice mounted the Thalian pass and left the kingdom in the
+      valley behind him. He was weary, dusty, lame and out of humor; besides, he
+      had a new weight on his conscience. The night before he had taken the life
+      of a man. True, this had happened before, but always in warfare. He had
+      killed in a moment of rage and chagrin a poor devil who was at most only a
+      puppet. There was small credit in the performance. However, the rascal
+      would have suffered death in any event, his act being one of high treason.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the long ride he had made up his mind to lock away forever the silly
+      dream, the tender, futile, silly dream. All men die with secrets locked in
+      their hearts; thus he, too, would die. His fancy leaped across the chasm
+      of intervening years to the day of his death, and the thought was a happy
+      one! He smiled sadly, as young men smile when they pity themselves. He
+      knew that he would never get over it&mdash;in a day. But to-morrow, or
+      to-morrow's to-morrow..
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He took the pass's decline; the duchy spread away toward the south. A
+      quarter of a mile below him he saw the barrack and the customs office
+      which belonged to Madame the duchess. The corporal inspected him and his
+      papers, spoke lowly to the customs inspector, who returned to his office.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is all right, Monsieur Carewe,&rdquo; said the corporal; &ldquo;I ought to
+      recognize the horse a mile away. You will arrive just in time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just in time for what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, true. Her Highness gives a grand ball at the chateau to-night. The
+      court has arrived from Brunnstadt. Some will reside at the chateau, some
+      at General Duckwitz's, others at the Countess Herzberg's.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has the duchess arrived at last, then?&rdquo; was the cynical inquiry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She will arrive this evening,&rdquo; answered the corporal, grinning. &ldquo;A
+      pleasant journey to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice proceeded. &ldquo;And that blockhead of an Englishman has not tumbled
+      yet! The court here? A grand ball? What else can it mean but that Madame
+      is celebrating a victory to come? If the archbishop has those consols, she
+      will wage war; and this is the prelude.&rdquo; He jogged along. He had
+      accomplished a third of the remaining distance, when he was challenged.
+      The sentry came forward and scrutinized the rider.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O, it is Monsieur Carewe!&rdquo; he cried in delighted tones. He touched his
+      cap and fell back into the shadows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A mile farther, and the great chateau, scintillating with lights, loomed
+      up against the yellow sky. He felt a thrill of excitement. Doubtless there
+      would be some bright passages before the night drew to a close. He would
+      make furious love to the pretty countess; it would be something in the way
+      of relaxation. How would they greet him? What would be Madame's future
+      plans in regard to Fitzgerald? How would she get him out of the way, now
+      that he had served her purpose? He laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The future promises much,&rdquo; he said, half aloud. &ldquo;I am really glad that I
+      came back.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Halt!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice drew up. A sentry stepped out into the road.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O, it is Monsieur Carewe!&rdquo; he cried. With a short laugh he disappeared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hang me,&rdquo; grumbled Maurice as he went on, &ldquo;these fellows have remarkable
+      memories. I can't recollect any of them.&rdquo; He was mystified.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shortly he came upon the patrol. The leader ordered him to dismount, an
+      order be obeyed willingly, for he was longing to stand again. He shook his
+      legs, while the leader struck a match.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, it is Monsieur Carewe!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;Good! We are coming out to meet
+      you. This is a pleasure indeed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice gazed keenly into the speaker's face, and to his surprise beheld
+      the baron whose arm he had broken a fortnight since. He climbed on his
+      horse again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am glad you deem it a pleasure, baron,&rdquo; he said dryly. &ldquo;From what you
+      imply, I should judge that you were expecting me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing less! Your departure from Bleiberg was known to us as early as
+      two o'clock this after-noon,&rdquo; answered the baron. &ldquo;Permit us to escort you
+      to the chateau before the ladies see you. 'Tis a gala night; we are all in
+      our best bib and tucker, as the English say. We believed at one time that
+      you were not going to honor us with a second visit. Now to dress, both of
+      us; at ten Madame the duchess arrives with General Duckwitz and Colonel
+      Mollendorf, who is no relation to the late minister of police in
+      Bleiberg.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Underneath all this Maurice discerned a shade of mockery, and it disturbed
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;First, I should like to know&mdash;&rdquo; he began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Later, later!&rdquo; cried the baron. &ldquo;The gates are but a dozen rods away. To
+      your room first; the rest will follow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The only clothes I have with me are on my back,&rdquo; said Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We shall arrange that. Your guard-hussar uniform has been reserved for
+      you, at the suggestion of the Colonel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Maurice grew more and more disturbed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Were they courteous to you on the road?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. But&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Patience! Here we are at the rear gates.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice found it impossible to draw back; three troopers blocked the rear,
+      the baron and another rode at his sides, and four more were in advance.
+      The rear gates swung open, and the little troop passed into the chateau
+      confines. Maurice snatched a glimpse of the front lawns and terraces. The
+      trees and walls were hung with Chinese lanterns; gay uniforms and
+      shimmering gowns flitted across his vision. Somewhere within the chateau
+      an orchestra was playing the overture from &ldquo;Linda di Chamounix.&rdquo; Indeed,
+      with all these brave officers, old men in black bedecked with ribbons,
+      handsome women in a brilliant sparkle of jewels, it had the semblance of a
+      gay court. It was altogether a different scene from that which was called
+      the court of Bleiberg. There was no restraint here; all was laughter,
+      music, dancing, and wines. The women were young, the men were young; old
+      age stood at one side and looked on. And the charming Voiture-verse of a
+      countess, Maurice was determined to seek her first of all. He vaguely
+      wondered how Fitzgerald would carry himself throughout the ordeal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The troopers dismounted in the courtyard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm a trifle too stiff to dance,&rdquo; Maurice innocently acknowledged.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The baron laughed. &ldquo;You will have to take luck with me in the
+      stable-barrack; the chateau is filled. The armory has been turned into a
+      ballroom, and the guard out of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lead on!&rdquo; said Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the entrance to the guardroom, which occupied the left wing of the
+      stables, stood a Lieutenant of the hussars.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is Monsieur Carewe,&rdquo; said the baron, &ldquo;who will occupy a corner in
+      the guardroom.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! Monsieur Carewe,&rdquo; waving his hand cavalierly; &ldquo;happy to see you
+      again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice was growing weary of his name.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Enter,&rdquo; said the baron, opening the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice entered, but not without suspicion. However, he was in a hurry to
+      mingle with the gay assembly in the chateau. But that body was doomed to
+      proceed without the honor or the knowledge of his distinguished presence.
+      Several troopers were lounging about. At the sight of the baron they rose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Messieurs,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;this is Monsieur Carewe, who was expected.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad to see you!&rdquo; they sang out in chorus. They bowed ironically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice gazed toward the door. As he did so four pairs of arms enveloped
+      him, and before he could offer the slightest resistance, he was bound hand
+      and foot, a scarf was tied over his mouth, and he was pushed most
+      disrespectfully into a chair. The baron's mouth was twisted out of shape,
+      and the troopers were smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My faith! but this is the drollest affair I ever was in;&rdquo; and the baron
+      sat on the edge of the table and held his sides. &ldquo;Monsieur Carewe! Ha! ha!
+      You are a little too stiff to dance, eh? Shall I tender your excuses to
+      the ladies? Ass! did you dream for a moment that such canaille as you,
+      might show your countenance to any save the scullery maids? Too stiff to
+      dance! Ye gods, but that was rich! And you had the audacity to return
+      here! I must go; the thing is killing me.&rdquo; He slipped off the table, red
+      in the face and choking. &ldquo;The telegraph has its uses; it came ahead of
+      you. We trembled for fear you would not come! Men, guard him as your
+      lives, while I report to Madame, I dare say she will make it droller in
+      the telling.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stepped to the door, turned, looking into the prisoner's glaring eyes;
+      he doubled up again. &ldquo;We are quits; I forgive you the broken arm; this
+      laugh will repay me. How Madame the countess will laugh! And Duckwitz&mdash;the
+      General will die of apoplexy! O, but you are a sorry ass; and how neatly
+      we have clipped your ears!&rdquo; And into the corridor he went, still laughing,
+      heartily and joyously, as if what had taken place was one of the finest
+      jests in the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice, white and furious, was positive that he never would laugh again.
+      And the most painful thought was that his honesty had brought him to this
+      pass&mdash;or, was it his curiosity?
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      Fitzgerald stood alone in the library. The music of a Strauss waltz came
+      indistinctly to him. He was troubled, and the speech of it lay in his
+      eyes. From time to time he drummed on the window sill, and followed with
+      his gaze the shadowy forms on the lawns. He was not a part of this fairy
+      scene. He was out of place. So many young and beautiful women eyeing him
+      curiously confused him. In every glance he innocently read his disgrace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At Madame's request he had dressed himself in the uniform of a
+      Lieutenant-Colonel, which showed how deeply he was in the toils. Though it
+      emphasized the elegant proportions of his figure, it sat uncomfortably
+      upon him. His vanity was not equal to his sense of guilt. The uniform was
+      a livery of dishonor. He could not distort it into a virtue, try as he
+      would. He lacked that cunning artifice which a man of the world possesses,
+      that of winning over to the right a misdeed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Carewe, on whose honesty he would have staked his life, Carewe had
+      betrayed him. Why, he could not conceive. He saw how frail his house of
+      love was. A breath and it was gone. What he had until to-day deemed
+      special favors were favors common to all these military dandies. They,
+      too, could kiss Madame's hand, and he could do no more. And yet she held
+      him. Did she love him? He could not tell. All he knew was that it was
+      impossible not to love her. And to-night he witnessed the culmination of
+      the woman beautiful, and it dazzled him, filled him with fears and
+      oppressions.... To bind her hand and foot, to carry her by force to the
+      altar, if need; to call her his in spite of all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      If she were playing with him, making a ball of his heart and her fancy a
+      cup, she knew not of the slumbering lion within. He himself was but dimly
+      conscious of it. Princess? That did not matter. Since that morning the
+      veil had fallen from his eyes, but he had said nothing; he was waiting for
+      her to speak. Would she laugh at him? No, no! The knowledge that had come
+      to him had transformed wax into iron. Princess? She was the woman who had
+      promised to be his wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Only two candles burned on the mantel-piece. The library was a room apart
+      from the festivities. A soft, rose-colored darkness pervaded the room.
+      Presently a darker shadow tiptoed over the threshold. He turned, and the
+      shadow approached. Madame's gray eyes, full of lambent fires, looked into
+      his own.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was seeking you,&rdquo; she said. The jewels in her hair threw a kind of halo
+      above her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have I the happiness to be necessary to you?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have not been enjoying yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Madame; my conscience is, unhappily, too green.&rdquo; He turned to the
+      window again for fear he would lose control of himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have a confession to make to you,&rdquo; she said humbly. How broad his
+      shoulders were, was her thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It can not concern me,&rdquo; he replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is only one confession which I care to hear. You made it once,
+      though you are not willing to repeat it. But I have your word, Sylvia; I
+      am content. Not all the world could make me believe that you would
+      willingly retract that word.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her name, for the first time coming from his lips, caused her to start.
+      She sent him a penetrating glance, but it broke on a face immobile as
+      marble.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not recollect granting you permission to use my given name,&rdquo; she
+      said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O, that was before the world. But alone, alone as we are, you and I, it
+      is different.&rdquo; The smile which accompanied these words was frankness
+      itself, but it did not deceive Madame, who read his eyes too well. &ldquo;Ah,
+      but the crumbs you give this love of mine are so few!&rdquo; &ldquo;You are the only
+      man in the world permitted to avow love to me. You have kissed my hand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A privilege which seems extended to all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame colored, but there was not light enough for him to perceive it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The hand you kissed is the hand of the woman; others kiss it to pay
+      homage. Monsieur, forgive me for having deceived you, you were so easy to
+      deceive.&rdquo; His eyes met hers steadily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not Madame simply. I am Stephonia Sylvia Auersperg; the name I
+      assumed was my mother's.&rdquo; His lack of surprise alarmed her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am well aware of that,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You are the duchess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Something in his tone warned her of a crisis, and she put forth her
+      cunning to avert it. &ldquo;And, you&mdash;you will not love me less?&rdquo; her voice
+      vibrant as the string of a viol. &ldquo;I am a princess, but yet a woman. In me
+      there are two, the woman and the princess. The princess is proud and
+      ambitious; to gain her ends she stops at nothing. As a princess she may
+      stoop to trickery and deceit, and step back untouched. But the woman-ah,
+      well; for this fortnight I have been most of all the woman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And all this to me-is a preamble to my dismissal, since my promise
+      remains unfulfilled? Madame, do not think that because fate has willed
+      that my promise should become void, that my conscience acquits me of
+      dishonor. For love of you I have thrown honor to the winds. But do I
+      regret it? No. For I am mad, and being mad, I am not capable of reason. I
+      have broken all those ties which bind a man's respect to himself. I have
+      burned all bridges, but I laugh at that. It is only with the knowledge
+      that your love is mine that I can hold high my head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As the princess in you is proud, so is the man in me. A princess? That is
+      nothing; I love you. Were you the empress of all the Russias, the most
+      unapproachable woman in the world, I should not hesitate to profess my
+      love, to find some means of declaring it to you. I love you. To what
+      further depths can I fall to prove it?&rdquo; Again he sought the window, and
+      leaned heavily on the sill. He waited, as a man waits for an expected
+      blow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As she listened a delicious sensation swept through her heart, a sensation
+      elusive and intangible. She surrendered without question. At this moment
+      the Eve in her evaded all questions. Here was a man. The mood which seized
+      her was as novel as this love which asked nothing but love, and the
+      willingness to pay any price; and the desire to test both mood and love to
+      their full strength was irresistible. She was loved for herself alone;
+      hitherto men had loved the woman less and the princess more. To surrender
+      to both mood and love, if only for an hour or a day, to see to what length
+      this man would go at a sign from her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was almost her equal in birth; his house was nearly if not quite as old
+      and honored as her own; in his world he stood as high as she stood in
+      hers. She had never committed an indiscretion; passion had never swayed
+      her; until now she had lived by calculation. As she looked at him, she
+      knew that in all her wide demesne no soldier could stand before him and
+      look straight into his eyes. So deep and honest a book it was, so easily
+      readable, that she must turn to its final pages. Love him? No. Be his
+      wife? No. She recognized that it was the feline instinct to play which
+      dominated her. Consequences? Therein lay the charm of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Patience, Monsieur,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Did I promise to be your wife? Did I say
+      that I loved you? <i>Eh, bien</i>, the woman, not the princess, made those
+      vows. I am mistress not only of my duchy, but of my heart.&rdquo; She ceased and
+      regarded him with watchful eyes. He did not turn. &ldquo;Look at me, John!&rdquo; The
+      voice was of such winning sweetness that St. Anthony himself, had he heard
+      it, must have turned. &ldquo;Look at me and see if I am more a princess than a
+      woman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He wheeled swiftly. She was leaning toward him, her face was upturned. No
+      jewel in her hair was half so lustrous as her eyes. From the threaded
+      ruddy ore of her hair rose a perfume like the fabulous myrrhs of Olympus.
+      Her lips were a cup of wine, and her eyes bade him drink, and the taste of
+      that wine haunted him as long as he lived. He made as though to drain the
+      cup, but Madame pushed down his arms, uttered a low, puzzled laugh, and
+      vanished from the room. He was lost! He knew it; yet he did not care. He
+      threw out his arms, dropped them, and settled his shoulders. A smile, a
+      warm, contented smile, came into his face and dwelt there. For another
+      such kiss he would have bartered eternity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Madame? Who can say?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXII. IN WHICH MAURICE RECURS TO OFFENBACH
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Midnight; the music had ceased, and the yellow and scarlet lanterns had
+      been plucked from the autumnal hangings. The laughing, smiling, dancing
+      women, like so many Cinderellas, had disappeared, and with them the
+      sparkle of jewels; and the gallant officers had ridden away to the jingle
+      of bit and spur. Throughout the courtly revel all faces had revealed,
+      besides the happiness and lightness of spirit, a suppressed eagerness for
+      something yet to come, an event surpassing any they had yet known.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Promptly at midnight Madame herself had dropped the curtains on the gay
+      scene because she had urgent need of all her military household at dawn,
+      when a picture, far different from that which had just been painted, was
+      to be limned on the broad canvas of her dreams. Darkness and quiet had
+      fallen on the castle, and the gray moon film lay on terrace and turret and
+      tile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the guardroom, Maurice, his hands and feet still in pressing cords,
+      dozed in his chair. He had ceased to combat drowsiness. He was worn out
+      with his long ride, together with the chase of the night before; and since
+      a trooper had relieved his mouth of the scarf so that he could breathe, he
+      cared not what the future held, if only he might sleep. It took him a long
+      time to arrive at the angle of comfort; this accomplished, he drifted into
+      smooth waters. The troopers who constituted his guard played cards at a
+      long table, in the center of which were stuck half a dozen bayonets, which
+      served as candlesticks. They laughed loudly, thumped the board, and
+      sometimes sang. No one bothered himself about the prisoner, who might have
+      slept till the crack of doom, as far as they were concerned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shortly before the new hour struck, the door opened and shut. A trooper
+      shook the sleeper by the sleeve. Maurice awoke with a start and gazed
+      about, blinking his eyes. Before him he discovered Madame the duchess,
+      Fitzgerald and Mollendorf, behind whom stood the Voiture-verse of a
+      countess. The languor forsook him and he pulled himself together and sat
+      as upright as his bonds would permit him. Something interesting was about
+      to take place.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame made a gesture which the troopers comprehended, and they departed.
+      Fitzgerald, with gloomy eyes, folded his arms across his breast, and with
+      one hand curled and uncurled the drooping ends of his mustache; the
+      Colonel frowned and rubbed the gray bristles on his upper lip; the
+      countess twisted and untwisted her handkerchief; Madame alone evinced no
+      agitation, unless the perpendicular line above her nose could have been a
+      sign of such. This lengthened and deepened as her glance met the
+      prisoner's.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He eyed them all with an indifference which was tinctured with contempt
+      and amusement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Monsieur Carewe,&rdquo; said Madame, coldly, &ldquo;what have you to say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A number of things, Madame,&rdquo; he answered, in a tone which bordered the
+      insolent; &ldquo;only they would not be quite proper for you to hear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Colonel's hand slid from his lip over his mouth; he shuffled his feet
+      and stared at the bayonets and the grease spots on the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Carewe,&rdquo; said Fitzgerald, endeavoring to speak calmly, &ldquo;you have broken
+      your word to me as a gentleman and you have lied to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The reply was an expressive monosyllable, &ldquo;O!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you deny it?&rdquo; demanded the Englishman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Deny what?&rdquo; asked Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The archbishop,&rdquo; said Madame, &ldquo;assumed the aggressive last night. To be
+      aggressive one must possess strength. Monsieur, how much did he pay for
+      those consols? Come, tell me; was he liberal? It is evident that you are
+      not a man of business. I should have been willing to pay as much as a
+      hundred thousand crowns. Come; acknowledge that you have made a bad
+      stroke.&rdquo; She bent her head to one side, and a derisive smile lifted the
+      corners of her lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A dull red flooded the prisoner's cheeks. &ldquo;I do not understand you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You lie!&rdquo; Fitzgerald stepped closer and his hands closed menacingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; said Maurice, &ldquo;thank you. But why not complete the melodrama
+      by striking, since you have doubled your fists?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitzgerald glared at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; interposed the countess, &ldquo;do not forget that you are a
+      gentleman; Monsieur Carewe's hands are tied.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unfortunately,&rdquo; observed Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame looked curiously at the countess, while Fitzgerald drew back to the
+      table and rested on it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can not comprehend how you dared return,&rdquo; Madame resumed. &ldquo;One who
+      watches over my affairs has informed me of your dishonorable act.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you call a dishonorable act?&rdquo; Maurice inquired quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One who breaks his sacred promise!&rdquo; quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The prisoner laughed maliciously. Madame had answered the question as he
+      hoped she would. &ldquo;Chickens come home to roost. What do you say to that, my
+      lord?&rdquo; to the Englishman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This time it was not the prisoner's cheeks which reddened. Even Madame was
+      forced to look away, for if this reply touched the Englishman it certainly
+      touched her as deeply. Incidentally, she was asking herself why she had
+      permitted the Englishman to possess her lips, hers, which no man save her
+      father had ever possessed before. A kiss, that was all it had been, yet
+      the memory of it was persistent, annoying, embarrassing. In the spirit of
+      play&mdash;a spirit whose origin mystified her&mdash;she had given the man
+      something which she never could regain, a particle of her pride.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Besides, this was not all; she had in that moment given up her right to
+      laugh at him when the time came; now she would not be able to laugh. She
+      regretted the folly, and bit her lip at the thought of it. Consequences
+      she had laughed at; now their possibilities disturbed her. She had been
+      guilty of an indiscretion. The fact that the Englishman had ruined himself
+      at her beck did not enter her mind. The hour for that had not yet arrived.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Seeing that his neat barb had left them all without answer, Maurice said:
+      &ldquo;Doubtless the informant who watches over your interests and various other
+      interests of which you have no inkling, was the late Colonel Beauvais? For
+      my part, I wish it was the late Beauvais in the sense in which we refer to
+      the departed ones. But let us give him his true name&mdash;Prince Konrad,
+      the last of the Walmodens, a cashiered gamester.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Only Fitzgerald showed any surprise. Maurice once saw that the others were
+      in the secret. They knew the Colonel. Did they know why he was in
+      Bleiberg? Let them find it out for themselves. He would not lift a finger
+      to aid them. He leaned back and yawned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me,&rdquo; he said, with mock politeness, &ldquo;but my hands are tied, and
+      the truth is, I am sleepy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Count,&rdquo; said Madame, &ldquo;release him. He will be too well guarded to fear
+      his escaping.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Colonel performed this service with alacrity. He honestly admired the
+      young fellow who so seldom lost his temper. Besides, he had a sneaking
+      idea that the lad was being unjustly accused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice got up and stretched himself. He rubbed his wrists, then sat down
+      and waited for the comedy to proceed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you confess,&rdquo; said Madame, &ldquo;that you sold the consols to the
+      archbishop?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I, confess?&rdquo; Maurice screwed up his lips and began to whistle softly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Voici le sabre de mon Pere.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You deny, then?&rdquo; Madame was fast losing patience, a grave mistake when
+      one is dealing with a banterer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice changed the tune:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;J'aime les militaires, Leur uniforme coquet, Leur moustache et leur
+      plumet&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Answer!&rdquo; with a stamp of the foot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Je sais ce que je voudrais, Je voudrais etre cantiniere!&rdquo;...
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; said the pretty countess, after a furtive glance at Madame's
+      stormy eyes, &ldquo;do you deny?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The whistle ceased. &ldquo;Madame, to you I shall say that I neither deny nor
+      affirm. The affair is altogether too ridiculous to treat seriously. I have
+      nothing to say.&rdquo; The whistle picked up the thread again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Doubt began to stir in the eyes of the Englishman. He looked at Madame
+      with a kind of indecision, to find that she was glancing covertly at him.
+      His gaze finally rested on Maurice, who had crossed his legs and was
+      keeping time to the music with his foot. Indeed, these were not the
+      violent protestations of innocence he had looked for. This demeanor was
+      not at all in accord with his expectations. Now that he had possessed
+      Madame's lips (though she might never possess the consols), Maurice did
+      not appear so guilty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Carewe,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you have deceived me from the start.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! c'est un fameux regiment, Le regiment de la Grande Duchesse!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You knew that Madame was her Highness,&rdquo; went on the Englishman, &ldquo;and yet
+      you kept that a secret from me. Can you blame me if I doubt you in other
+      respects?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sonnez donc la trompette, Et battez les tambours!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And the warbler nodded significantly at Madame, whose frown grew still
+      darker.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh! Monsieur,&rdquo; cried the Colonel, with a protesting hand, &ldquo;you are out of
+      tune!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should like to know why you returned here,&rdquo; said Madame. &ldquo;Either you
+      have some plan, or your audacity has no bounds.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The whistle stopped again. &ldquo;Madame, for once we agree. I, too, should like
+      to know why I returned here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Carewe,&rdquo; said Fitzgerald, &ldquo;if you will give me your word&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not waste your breath, Monsieur,&rdquo; interrupted Madame.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you give me your word?&rdquo; persisted Fitzgerald, refusing to see the
+      warning in Madame's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will give you nothing, my lord; nothing. I have said that I will answer
+      neither one way nor the other. The accusation is too absurd. Now, Madame,
+      what is your pleasure in regard to my disposition?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are to be locked up, Monsieur,&rdquo; tartly. &ldquo;You are too inquisitive to
+      remain at large.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My confinement will be of short duration,&rdquo; confidently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It rests with my pleasure alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me if I contradict your Highness. I returned here incidentally as
+      a representative of the British ambassador in Vienna; I volunteered this
+      office at the request of my own minister.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A shade of consternation came into the faces of his audience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If nothing is heard of me within two days, an investigation will ensue.
+      It is very droll, but I am here to inquire into the whereabouts of one
+      Lord Fitzgerald, who has disappeared. Telegrams to the four ends of the
+      world have brought no news of his present residence. The archbishop
+      instituted the latter inquiries, because it was urgent and necessary he
+      should know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitzgerald became enveloped in gloom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And your credentials, Monsieur?&rdquo; said the duchess. &ldquo;You have them, I
+      presume?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I came as a private gentleman; a telegram to my minister in Vienna will
+      bring indorsement.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! Then you shall be locked up. I can not accord you recognition;
+      without the essential representations, I see nothing in you but an
+      impertinent meddler. To-morrow evening you shall be conveyed to
+      Brunnstadt, where you will reside for some time, I can assure you. Perhaps
+      on your head will rest the blood of many gallant gentlemen; for within
+      another twenty-four hours I shall declare war against Leopold. This will
+      be the consequence of your disloyalty to your word.&rdquo; And she moved toward
+      the door, the others imitating her. Fitzgerald, more than any one else,
+      desired to get away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And one by one they vanished. Once the countess turned and threw Maurice a
+      glance which mystified him; it was half curtained with tears. Presently he
+      was alone. His eye grasped every object. There was not a weapon in sight;
+      only the bayonets on the table, and he could scarcely hope to escape by
+      use of one of these. A carafe of water stood on the table. He went to it
+      and half emptied it. His back was toward the door. Suddenly it opened. He
+      wheeled, expecting to see the troopers. His surprise was great. Beauvais
+      was leaning against the door, a half humorous smile on his lips. The
+      tableau lasted several minutes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Beauvais, &ldquo;you do not seem very glad to see me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice remained silent, and continued to gaze at his enemy over the tops
+      of the upturned bayonets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are, as I said before, a very young man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I killed a puppet of yours last night,&rdquo; replied Maurice, with a peculiar
+      grimness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh? So it was you? However, Kopf knew too much; he is dead, thanks to
+      your service. After all, it was a stroke of war; the princess, whose
+      little rose you have, was to have been a hostage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If she had refused to be a wife,&rdquo; Maurice replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Beauvais curled his mustache.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know a good deal more than Kopf.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You do, certainly; but you are at a convenient nearness. What you know
+      will be of no use to you. Let us sit down.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I prefer to stand. The honor you do me is too delicate.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O, you may have no fear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have none&mdash;so long as my back isn't turned toward you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Beauvais passed over this. &ldquo;You are a very good blade; you handle a sword
+      well. That is a compliment, considering that I am held as the first blade
+      in the kingdom. It was only to-day I learned that formerly you had been a
+      cavalryman in America. You have the making of a soldier.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice bowed, his hand resting near one of the bayonets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are also a soldier of fortune-like myself. You made a good stroke
+      with the archbishop. You hoodwinked us all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice did not reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well; we shall not dwell on it. You are discreet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice saw that Beauvais was speaking in good faith.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have something to say; come to it at once, for it is trying to watch
+      you so closely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will give you&mdash;&rdquo; He hesitated and scratched his chin. &ldquo;I will give
+      you ten thousand crowns as the price of your silence in regard to the
+      South American affair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A sardonic laugh greeted this proposal. &ldquo;I did not know that you were so
+      cheap. But it is too late.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Too late?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Doubtless, since by this time the authorities are in possession of the
+      interesting facts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg to differ from you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do as you please,&rdquo; said Maurice, triumphantly. &ldquo;I sent an account of your
+      former exploits both to my own government and to the one which you so
+      treacherously betrayed. One or the other will not fail to reach.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am perfectly well aware of that,&rdquo; Beauvais smiled. He reached into a
+      pocket, and for a moment Maurice expected to see a pistol come forth. But
+      he was needlessly alarmed. Beauvais extracted two envelopes from the
+      pocket and sailed them through the intervening space. They fell on the
+      table. &ldquo;Put not your trust in hotel clerks,&rdquo; was the sententious
+      observation. &ldquo;At least, till you have discovered that no one else employs
+      them. I am well served. The clerk was told to intercept your outgoing
+      post; and there is the evidence. Ten thousand crowns and a safe conduct.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice picked up the letters mechanically. They were his; the stamps were
+      not canceled, but the flaps were slit. He turned them this way and that,
+      bewildered. He was convinced that he could in no way cope with this man of
+      curious industries, this man who seemed to have a key for every lock, and
+      whom nothing escaped. And the wise old Marshal had permitted him to leave
+      the kingdom without let or hindrance. Perhaps the Marshal understood that
+      Beauvais was a sort of powder train, and that the farther he was away from
+      the mine the better for all concerned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a great rascal,&rdquo; Maurice said finally.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will waive that point. The matter at present is, how much will it take
+      to buy your silence for the future?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I am sorry I did not kill you when I had the chance,&rdquo; continued
+      Maurice, as if following a train of thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We never realize how great the opportunity is till it has passed beyond
+      our reach. Well, how much?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not in need of money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To be sure; I forgot. But the archbishop could not have given you a
+      competence for life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I choked a few facts out of Kopf,&rdquo; said Maurice. &ldquo;You will wear no crown&mdash;that
+      is, earthly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And your heavenly one is near at hand,&rdquo; rejoined Beauvais.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice absently fingered a bayonet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You refuse this conciliation on my part?&rdquo; asked Beauvais.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Positively.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, if anything happens to you, you will have only yourself to
+      blame. I will leave you to digest that suggestion. Your life hangs in the
+      balance. I will give you till to-morrow morning to make up your mind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go to the devil!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In that, I shall offer you the precedence.&rdquo; And Beauvais backed out;
+      backed out because Maurice had wrenched loose one of the bayonets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice flung the bayonet across the room, went back to his chair, and
+      tore his ill-fated letters into ribbons. When this was done he stared
+      moodily at the impromptu candlesticks, and tried to conceive the manner in
+      which Beauvais's threat would materialize.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the troops returned to their watch, they found the prisoner in a
+      recumbent position, staring at the cracks in the floor, oblivious to all
+      else save his thoughts, which were by no means charitable or humane. They
+      resumed their game of cards. At length Maurice fell into a light slumber.
+      The next time he opened his eyes it was because of a peculiar jar, which
+      continued; a familiar, monotonous jar, such as the tread of feet on the
+      earth creates. Tramp, tramp, tramp; it was a large body of men on the
+      march. Soon this was followed by a lighter and noisier sound&mdash;cavalry.
+      Finally, there came the rumbling of heavy metal&mdash;artillery. More than
+      an hour passed before these varying sounds grew indistinct.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice was now fully awake. An army had passed the Red Chateau.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIII. A GAME OF POKER AND THE STAKES
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The next morning Beauvais came for his answer. It was not the answer he
+      had expected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So be it,&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;Your government had better appoint your successor
+      at once. Good morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will die suddenly some day,&rdquo; said Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Beauvais shrugged, and departed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a dreary long day for the prisoner, who saw no one but his jailers.
+      He wondered what time they would start for Brunnstadt. He had never seen
+      Brunnstadt. He hoped the city would interest him. Was he to be disposed of
+      on the road? No, that would scarcely be; there were too many witnesses. In
+      the city prison, then; that was possible. The outlook was not
+      rose-colored. He set to work to challenge each of his jailers, but this
+      did not serve. At five o'clock the bluff old Colonel Mollendorf came in.
+      He dismissed the troopers, who were glad enough to be relieved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll be responsible for the prisoner from now on,&rdquo; he said. As soon as he
+      and Maurice were alone he propped his chin and contemplated the sullen
+      face of the prisoner. &ldquo;Well, my son, I am positive that you have been
+      accused somewhat hastily, but that's the way women have, jumping at
+      conclusions before they read the preface. But you must give Madame credit
+      for being honest in the matter, as well as the others. Beauvais is
+      positive that the move of the archbishop is due to your selling out to
+      him. Come, tell me the story. If you wish, I'll promise not to repeat it.
+      Madame is determined to lock you up in any event.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was something so likable about the old warrior that Maurice
+      relented.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There was nothing in the gun-barrels,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Some one had entered
+      that room before me. I thought at first that Beauvais had them; but he is
+      the last man in the world to dispose of them to the prelate. But has the
+      archbishop got them? I wish I knew. That's all there is to the story.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And her Royal Highness's dog?&rdquo; slyly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What! Did you hear about that?&rdquo; Maurice flushed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is little going on in Bleiberg that we don't hear about. The
+      princess is charming. Poor girl!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame's victory will have a strange odor. Can she not let the king die
+      in peace?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My son, she dares not. If that throne were vacant of a king&mdash;Let us
+      not talk politics.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame has no love for me,&rdquo; said Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame has no love for any one, if that will give you any satisfaction.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It does. My lord the Englishman came near striking me last night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I would not lay that up against him. Madame was the power behind the
+      throne.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the impulse behind Madame?&rdquo; smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are the only man who has ever crossed Madame's path; she can not
+      forget it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And she has put me in a bad light, as far as Fitzgerald is concerned. A
+      man will believe anything a woman says to him, if he loves her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let us avoid dissertations.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you want to talk about?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yourself; you are interesting, entertaining, and instructive,&rdquo; the
+      Colonel answered, laughing. &ldquo;I never ran across an American who wasn't,
+      and I have met a number. What have you done to Beauvais?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not exactly what I've done; it is what I know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice repeated the story.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you bested him at the rapiers?&rdquo; in astonishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is there anything startling about it?&rdquo; asked Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has no match hereabout.&rdquo; The Colonel looked across the table at the
+      smooth-faced boy&mdash;he was scarcely else&mdash;and reflected. &ldquo;Why did
+      you give up the army?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The army in America doesn't run to good clothes; the officers have to
+      work harder than the privates, and, save in Washington, their social
+      status is nil. Besides, there is too much fighting going on all the time.
+      Here, an officer is always on dress parade.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Still, we are always ready. In the past we show up pretty well in
+      history. But to return to Beauvais, it is very embarrassing, very.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It will be for him, if I live long enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Beauvais has promised to push me off the board, to use his own words. I
+      am wondering how he will do it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't let that disturb you; he will do nothing&mdash;now. Well, well; it
+      is all a sorry game; and I find that making history has its disadvantages.
+      But I have dandled Madame as a child on my knee, and her wish is law;
+      wherever her fortunes lead, I must follow. She will win; she can not help
+      winning. But I pity that poor devil of a king, who, they say, is now
+      bereft of speech. Ah, had he been a man, I could have gone into this heart
+      and soul.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is on his deathbed. And his daughter, God knows what is in store for
+      her. Prince Frederick is dallying with his peasant girl. The day for the
+      wedding has come and gone, unless he turned up to-day, which is not
+      likely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which is not likely indeed,&rdquo; repeated the Colonel sadly. He pulled out
+      his pipe, and smoked for a time. &ldquo;But let us not judge harshly, says the
+      Book. There may be circumstances over which Prince Frederick has no
+      control. I suppose your sympathies are on the other side of the path.
+      Youth is always quick and generous; it never stops to weigh causes or to
+      reason why. And strange, its judgment is almost always unerring. I am
+      going to share my dinner with you to-night. I'll try to brighten you up a
+      bit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then after dinner we'll play poker until they come to take you to
+      Brunnstadt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What sort of a city is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will not see much of it; so I will not take the trouble to tell you
+      that it is slightly inferior to Bleiberg.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Sure enough, when the dark of evening fell, two servants entered with
+      trays and baskets, and proceeded to lay the table. They put new candles in
+      the bayonets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ha!&rdquo; said the Colonel; &ldquo;you have forgotten the wine, rascals!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bring a dozen bottles,&rdquo; Maurice suggested, having an idea in mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Remember, Colonel, I've been a soldier and a journalist in a country
+      where they only wash with water. In the summer we have whisky iced, in the
+      winter we have it hot; an antidote for both heat and cold. Ah, Colonel, if
+      you only might sniff a mint julep!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A dozen bottles, then,&rdquo; said the Colonel to the servants, who retired to
+      execute the order.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How old will it be?&rdquo; asked Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Twice your age, my son. But do not make any miscalculation about my
+      capacity for tokayer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Any miscalculation?&rdquo; Maurice echoed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; if you plan to get me drunk. There are no troopers about, and it
+      would be easy enough for you to slip out if I should lose my head.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice's laugh had a false ring to it. The Colonel had made a very shrewd
+      guess.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well!&rdquo; said the Colonel, with a gesture toward the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They sat down, and both made an excellent dinner. Maurice demolished a
+      roasted pheasant, stuffed with chestnuts, while the Colonel disintegrated
+      a duck. The wine came, and the servants ranged six bottles on the side of
+      each plate. It was done so gravely that Maurice laughed heartily. The wine
+      was the oldest in Madame's cellar, and Maurice wondered at the Colonel's
+      temerity in selecting it. The bottles were of thick glass, fat-bottomed,
+      and ungainly, and Maurice figured that there was more than a pint in each.
+      It possessed a delicious bouquet. The Colonel emptied three bottles, with
+      no more effect than if the wine had been water. Maurice did not appreciate
+      this feat until he had himself emptied a bottle. It was then he saw that
+      the boot was likely to be on the other foot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked at the Colonel enviously; the old soldier was a gulf. He had
+      miscalculated, indeed. But he was fertile in plans, and a more reasonable
+      one occurred to him. He drank another bottle and began to talk verbosely.
+      Later he grew confidential. He told the Colonel a great many things which&mdash;had
+      never happened, things impossible and improbable. The Colonel listened
+      soberly, and nodded now and again. Dinner past, they pushed the remains
+      aside and began to play poker, a game at which the Colonel proved to be no
+      novice, much to Maurice's wonder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, you know the game as thoroughly as an Arizona corporal.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I generally spend a month of the winter in Vienna. One of your
+      compatriots taught me the interesting game.&rdquo; The Colonel shuffled the
+      cards. &ldquo;It is the great American game, so I am told.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O, they play checkers in the New England states,&rdquo; said Maurice,
+      hiccoughing slightly. &ldquo;But out west and in all the great cities poker has
+      the way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What have you got?&rdquo; asked the Colonel, answering a call.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jacks full.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Takes the pot;&rdquo; and this Americanism came so naturally that Maurice
+      roared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poker is a great preliminary study to diplomacy,&rdquo; said the Colonel, as he
+      scrutinized his hand. &ldquo;You raise it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. One card. Diplomacy? So it is. I played a game with the Chinese
+      ambassador in Washington one night. I was teaching him how to play. I lost
+      all the ready money I had with me. Next day I found out that he was the
+      shrewdest player in the diplomatic circles. Let's make it a jackpot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All the same to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And the game went on. Presently Maurice threw aside his coat. He was
+      feeling the warmth of the wine, but he opened another bottle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is there any truth,&rdquo; said the Colonel, &ldquo;about your shooting a man who is
+      found cheating in your country?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is, if you can draw quicker than he.&rdquo; Maurice glanced at his hand
+      and threw it down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did you have?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing. I was trying to fill a straight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So was I,&rdquo; said the Colonel, sweeping the board. &ldquo;It's your deal.&rdquo; He
+      unbottoned his coat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice felt a shiver of delight. Sticking out of the Colonel's belt was
+      the ebony handle of a cavalry revolver, and he made up his mind to get it.
+      There were no troopers around&mdash;the Colonel had admitted as much. He
+      began talking rapidly, sometimes incoherently. In a corner of the room he
+      saw the cords which had been around his wrists and ankles the night
+      before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poker,&rdquo; said the Colonel, &ldquo;depends mostly on what you Americans call
+      bluff. A bluff, as I understand it, is making the others think you have
+      them when you haven't, or you haven't got them when you have. In one case
+      you scare them, in the other you fish. You're getting flushed, my son;
+      you'll have a headache to-night; and in an hour you start.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      An hour! There was fever in Maurice's veins, but it was not caused wholly
+      by the heat of the wine. How should he manage it? He must have that
+      revolver.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Call? What have you got?&rdquo; asked the Colonel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Three kings&mdash;no, by George! only a pair. I thought a queen was a
+      king. My head's beginning to get shaky. Colonel, I believe I am getting
+      drunk.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice got up and rolled in an extraordinary fashion, but he was careful
+      not to overdo it. He began to sing. The Colonel got up, too, and he was
+      laughing. Maurice accidentally knocked over some empty bottles; he kicked
+      them about.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sh!&rdquo; cried the Colonel, coming around the table; &ldquo;you'll stampede the
+      horses.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice staggered toward him, and the Colonel caught him in his arms.
+      Maurice suddenly drew back, and the Colonel found himself looking into the
+      cavernous tube of his own revolver. Not a muscle in his face moved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take off your coat,&rdquo; said Maurice, quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Colonel complied. &ldquo;You are not so very drunk just now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. It was one of those bluffs when you make them think you haven't them
+      when you have.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What next?&rdquo; asked the Colonel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Those cords in the corner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Colonel picked them up, sat down and gravely tied one around his
+      ankles. Maurice watched him curiously. The old fellow was rather
+      agreeable, he thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; the Colonel inquired calmly, &ldquo;how are you going to tie my hands?
+      Can you hold the revolver in one hand and tie with the other?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hang me!&rdquo; exclaimed Maurice, finding himself brought to a halt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My son,&rdquo; said the Colonel, &ldquo;you are clever. In fact, you are one of those
+      fellows who grow to be great. You never miss an opportunity, and more
+      often than not you invent opportunities, which is better still. The truth
+      is, you have proceeded exactly on the lines I thought you would; and
+      thereby you have saved me the trouble of lying or having it out with
+      Madame. I am a victim, not an accomplice; I was forced at the point of a
+      revolver; I had nothing to say. If I had really been careless you would
+      have accomplished the feat just the same. For it was easily accomplished
+      you will admit. 'Tis true I knew you were acting because I expected you to
+      act. All this preamble puzzles you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Certainly Maurice's countenance expressed nothing less than perplexity. He
+      stepped back a few paces.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have,&rdquo; continued the Colonel, &ldquo;perhaps three-quarters of an hour. You
+      will be able to get out of here. You will have to depend on your resources
+      to cross the frontier.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would you just as soon explain to me&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It means that a certain young lady, like myself, believes in your
+      innocence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The countess?&rdquo; Maurice cried eagerly, remembering the look of the night
+      before and the tears which were in it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will not mention any names. Suffice it to say that it was due to her
+      pleading that I consented to play poker&mdash;and to let you fall into my
+      arms. Come, to work,&rdquo; holding out his hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      First Maurice clasped the hand and wrung it. &ldquo;Colonel, I do not want you
+      to get into trouble on my account&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go along with you! If you were really important,&rdquo; in half a banter, &ldquo;it
+      would be altogether a different matter. As it is, you are more in the way
+      than anything else, only Madame does not see it in that light. Come, at my
+      wrists, and take your handkerchief and tie it over my mouth; make a
+      complete job of it while you're at it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But they'll wonder how I tied you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the book, the boy is quite willing to sit down and play poker with me
+      till the escort comes! Don't trouble yourself about me; Madame has too
+      much need of me to give me more than a slight rating. Hurry and be off,
+      and remember that Beauvais has promised to push you off the board. Take
+      the near path for the woods and strike northeast. If you run into any
+      sentries it will be your own fault.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the army?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The army? Who the devil has said anything about the army?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I heard it go past last night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph! Keep to the right of the pass. Now, quick, before my conscience
+      speaks above a whisper.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should like to see the countess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will&mdash;if you reach Bleiberg by to-morrow night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice needed no further urging, and soon he had the Colonel securely
+      bound and silenced. Next he put on the Colonel's hat and coat, and
+      examined the revolver.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was very kind of you to load it, Colonel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Colonel blinked his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Au revoir!&rdquo; said Maurice, as he made for the door. &ldquo;Vergis mein nicht!&rdquo;
+       and he was gone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He crept down the stairs, cautiously entered the court, it was deserted.
+      The moon was up and shining. The gate was locked, but he climbed it
+      without mishap. Not a sentry was in sight. He followed the path, and swung
+      off into the forest. He was free. Here he took a breathing spell. When he
+      started onward he held the revolver ready. Woe to the sentry who blundered
+      on him! For he was determined to cross the frontier if there was a breath
+      of life in him. Moreover, he must be in Bleiberg within twenty hours.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was positive that Madame the duchess intended to steal a march, to
+      declare war only when she was within gunshot of Bleiberg. It lay with him
+      to prevent this move. His cup of wrath was full. From now on he was
+      resolved to wage war against Madame on his own account. She had laughed in
+      his face. He pushed on, examining trees, hollows and ditches. Sometimes he
+      put his hand to his ear and listened. There was no sound in the great
+      lonely forest, save for the low murmur of the wind through the sprawling
+      boughs. Shadows danced on the forest floor. Once he turned and shook his
+      clenched fist toward the spot which marked the location of the Red
+      Chateau. He thanked Providence that he was never to see it again. What an
+      adventure to tell at the clubs when he once more regained his Vienna!
+      Would he regain it?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Why did Madame keep Fitzgerald to her strings? He concluded not to bother
+      himself with problems abstract; the main object was to cross the Thalians
+      by a path of his own choosing. When he had covered what he thought to be a
+      quarter of a mile, he mounted a lookout. The highway was about three
+      hundred yards to the left. That was where it should be. He saw no
+      sentries, so he slid down from the tree and resumed his journey. The
+      chestnuts, oaks, and firs were growing thicker and denser. A dead branch
+      cracked with a loud report beneath his feet. With his heart almost in his
+      throat, he lay down and listened. A minute passed; he listened in vain for
+      an answering noise. He got up and went on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Presently he came upon a cluster of trees which was capable of affording a
+      hiding place for three or four men. He stood still and surveyed it. The
+      moon cast moving shadows on either side of it, but these had no human
+      shape. He laughed silently at his fear, and as he was about to pass the
+      cluster a man stepped out from behind it, his eyes gleaming and his hand
+      extended. He was rather a handsome fellow, but pale and emaciated. He wore
+      a trooper's uniform, and Maurice, swearing softly, concluded that his dash
+      for liberty had come to naught. He, too, held a revolver in his hand, but
+      he dared not raise it. There was a certain expression on the trooper's
+      face which precluded any arguing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you move,&rdquo; the trooper said, in a mild voice; &ldquo;if you utter a sound,
+      I'll blow off the top of your cursed head!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIV. THE PRISONER OF THE RED CHATEAU
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      There the two stood, mottled in the moonshine and shadow, with wild eyes
+      and nostrils distended, the one triumphant, the other raging and impotent.
+      Maurice was growing weary of fortune's discourtesies. He gazed alternately
+      from his own revolver, lying at his feet, to the one in the hand of this
+      unexpected visitant. Only two miles between him and freedom, yet he must
+      turn back. The Colonel had reckoned without Madame, and therefore without
+      reason. This man had probably got around in front of him when he climbed
+      the tree. He turned sullenly and started to walk away, expecting to be
+      followed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Halt! Where the devil are you going?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, back to your cursed chateau!&rdquo; Maurice answered surlily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The strange trooper laughed discordantly. &ldquo;Back to the chateau? I think
+      not. Now, then, right about face&mdash;march! Aye, toward the frontier;
+      and if I have to go on alone, so much the worse for you. I've knocked in
+      one man's head; if necessary, I'll blow off the top of yours. You know the
+      way back to Bleiberg, I don't; that is why I want your company. Now
+      march.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Maurice did not march; he was filled with curiosity. &ldquo;Are you a
+      trooper in Madame the duchess's household?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, curse you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who are you, then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, come; this will not pass. No tricks; you have been following me
+      these twenty minutes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The deuce I have!&rdquo; exclaimed Maurice, bewildered. &ldquo;To Bleiberg, is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And without loss of time. When we cross the Thalians I shall be perfectly
+      willing to parley with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To Bleiberg, then,&rdquo; said Maurice. &ldquo;Since that is my destination, the
+      devil I care how I get there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean to tell me that you are going to Bleiberg?&rdquo; surprise mingling
+      with his impatience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No place else.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you a spy?&rdquo; menacingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No more than you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But that uniform!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fancy yours looks a good deal like it,&rdquo; Maurice replied testily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I confess I never saw you before, and your tongue has a foreign twist,&rdquo;
+       with growing doubt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure I never saw you before, nor want to see you again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you doing in that uniform?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have the advantage of me; suppose you begin the introduction?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed I have the advantage of you, and propose to maintain it. Who are
+      you and what are you doing here? Answer!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was something in the young man's aspect which convinced Maurice that
+      it would be folly to trifle. Besides, he gave to his words an air which
+      distinguishes the man who commands from the man who serves. Maurice
+      briefly acquainted the young man with his name and position.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I?&rdquo; The young man laughed again. It was an unpleasant laugh. &ldquo;Never mind
+      who I am. Let us go, we are losing time. What is the date?&rdquo; suddenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The twentieth of September,&rdquo; answered Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My God, a day too late!&rdquo; The young man had an attack of vertigo, and was
+      obliged to lean against a tree for support. &ldquo;Are you telling me the truth
+      about yourself?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am. I myself was attempting to dispense with the questionable
+      hospitality of the Red Chateau&mdash;good Lord!&rdquo; striking his forehead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's the matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you the mysterious prisoner of the chateau, the man they have been
+      keeping at the end of the east corridor on the third floor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. And woe to the woman who kept me there! How came you there?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice, confident that something extraordinary was taking place, related
+      in synopsis his adventures.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And this cursed Englishman?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will drain a bitter cup. Madame is playing with him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the king; is he dead?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is dying.&rdquo; Maurice's wonder grew. What part had this strange young man
+      in this comedy, which was rapidly developing into a tragedy?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And her Highness&mdash;her Royal Highness?&rdquo; eagerly clutching Maurice by
+      the arm; &ldquo;and she?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She does not murmur, though both her pride and her heart are sore. She
+      has scarcely a dozen friends. Her paralytic father is the theme of ribald
+      jest; and now they laugh at her because the one man who perhaps could have
+      saved the throne has deserted her like a coward. Hang him, I say!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do they say?&rdquo; The tones were hollow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They say he is enamoured of a peasant girl, and dallies with her,
+      forgetting his sacred vows, his promised aid, and perhaps even this, his
+      wedding day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God help him!&rdquo; was the startling and despairing cry.... He was again
+      seized with the vertigo, and swayed against the tree. For a moment he
+      forgot Maurice, covered his face with his unengaged hand, and sobbed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice was helpless; he could offer no consolation. This grief he could
+      not understand. He stooped and picked up his revolver and waited.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am weak,&rdquo; said the other man, dashing his hand from his eyes; &ldquo;I am
+      weak and half starved. It would be better for all concerned if I blew out
+      my brains. The twentieth, the twentieth!&rdquo; he repeated, dully. &ldquo;Curse her!&rdquo;
+       he burst forth; &ldquo;as there's a God above us, I'll have revenge. Aye, I'll
+      return to the chateau, Madame, that I will, but at the head of ten
+      thousand men!... The twentieth! She will never forgive me; she will think
+      I, too, deserted her!&rdquo; He broke down again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An army!&rdquo; cried Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye, and ten thousand men! Come,&rdquo; taking Maurice by the arm; &ldquo;come, they
+      may be seeking us. To the frontier. Every hour is precious. To a telegraph
+      office! We shall see if I dally with peasant girls, if I forsake the woman
+      I love!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You?&rdquo; Maurice retreated a step. The silver moonshine became tinged with
+      red.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am Prince Frederick, and I love her Highness. I would sacrifice a
+      thousand kingdoms to spare her a moment's sorrow. I have always loved
+      her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a woman!&rdquo; Maurice murmured, as the scheme of Madame's flashed
+      through his mind. &ldquo;What a woman! And she had the audacity to kidnap you,
+      too!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And by the most dishonorable device. I and my suite of gentlemen were
+      coming to Bleiberg to make the final arrangements. At Ehrenstein I
+      received a telegram which requested me to visit till the following train a
+      baron who was formerly a comrade of my father. The telegram advised me of
+      his sudden illness, and that he had something important to disclose to me.
+      I bade my gentlemen, save one, proceed to Bleiberg. My aide and I entered
+      the carriage which was to convey us to the castle. We never reached it. On
+      the road we fell into an ambush, a contrivance of Madame's. I was brought
+      to the chateau. Whatever happened to Hofer, my aide, I do not know.
+      Doubtless he is dead. But Madame shall pay, both in pride and wealth. I
+      will lay waste this duchy of hers, though in the end the emperor crush me.
+      Let us be off.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They stumbled on through the forest. So confused was Maurice that he
+      forgot his usual caution. The supreme confidence of this woman and the
+      flawlessness of her schemes dazed him. So far she had stopped at nothing;
+      where would she end? A Napoleon in petticoats, she was about to appall the
+      confederation. She had suppressed a prince who was heir to a kingdom
+      triple in power and size to the kingdom which she coveted. Madame the
+      duchess was relying on some greater power, else her plans were madness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As for the prince, he had but one thought: to reach Bleiberg. The
+      confinement, together with mental suffering, anxiety and forced inaction,
+      began to tell on him. Twice he tripped and fell, and Maurice had to return
+      to assist him to his feet. However could they cross the mountains, a feat
+      which needed both courage and extreme physical endurance?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am so weak,&rdquo; said the prince, &ldquo;so pitiably weak! I thought to frighten
+      the woman by starving myself, poor fool that I was!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And they went on again. Maurice was beginning to feel the effect of his
+      wine-bibbing; he had a splitting headache.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Silence!&rdquo; he suddenly whispered, sinking and dragging the prince with
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A hundred yards in advance of them stood a sentinel, his body bent forward
+      and a hand to his ear. Presently he, too, lay down. Five minutes passed.
+      The sentinel rose, and convinced that his ears had tricked him, resumed
+      his lonely patrol. He disappeared toward the west, while the fugitives
+      made off in an easterly direction. Maurice was a soldier again. Every two
+      or three hundred yards he knelt and pressed his ear to the cold, damp
+      earth and waited for a familiar jar. The prince watched these movements
+      with interest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have been a soldier?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Perhaps we had better strike out for the mountains. The sentry line
+      can not extend as far as this.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But now they could see the drab peaks of the mountains which loomed
+      between the partly dismantled trees. Beyond lay the kingdom. Would they
+      ever reach it? There was only one pass; this they dared not make. Yet if
+      they attempted to cross the mountains in a deserted place, they might very
+      easily get lost; for in some locations it was fully six miles across the
+      range, and this, with the ups and downs and windings in and out, might
+      lengthen into twenty miles. They struck out toward the mountains, and
+      after half an hour they came upon an unforeseen obstacle. They sat down in
+      despair. This obstacle was the river, not very, wide, but deep, turbulent
+      and impassable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We shall have to risk the pass,&rdquo; said Maurice, gloomily; &ldquo;though heaven
+      knows how we are to get through it. We have ten shots between us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They followed the river. The roar of it deadened all other sounds. For a
+      mile they plodded on, silent, watchful and meditative. The prince thought
+      of his love; Maurice tried to forget his. For him the romance had come to
+      an end, its logical end; and it was now only a question of getting back to
+      the world to which he belonged and remaining there. He recalled a line he
+      had read somewhere: a deep love, gashes into the soul as a scar is hewn
+      upon the body and remains there during the whole life...
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look!&rdquo; cried the prince. He pointed toward the west.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice came out of his dream and looked. Some distance west of the pass,
+      perhaps half a mile from where they stood, Maurice saw the twinkle of a
+      hundred campfires. It was Madame's army in bivouac.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does this mean?&rdquo; asked the prince.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It means that the duchess is on the eve of striking a blow for her
+      crown,&rdquo; answered Maurice. &ldquo;And how are we to make the pass, which is
+      probably filled with soldiers? If only we could find a boat! Ah! what
+      would your Highness call this?&rdquo; He pointed to a thread-like line of bare
+      earth which wended riverward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A sheep or cattle path,&rdquo; said the prince, after a close inspection.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then the river is perhaps fordable here!&rdquo; exclaimed Maurice jubilantly.
+      &ldquo;At any rate, we'll try it; if it gets too deep, we'll come back.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He walked to the water's edge, studied the black whirling mass, shrugged
+      and stepped in. The prince came after him, unhesitatingly. Both shivered.
+      The water was intensely cold. But the bed was shallow, and the river never
+      mounted above the waist. However, in midstream it rushed strongly and
+      wildly along, and all but carried them off their feet. They arrived in
+      safety at the opposite shore, weak and cold in body, but warm in spirit.
+      They lay on the grass for several moments, breathing heavily. They might
+      now gain the pass by clambering up the mountain and picking their way down
+      from the other side. It was not possible that Madame's troopers had
+      entered into the kingdom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am giving out,&rdquo; the prince confessed reluctantly. &ldquo;Let us make as much
+      headway as we can while I last.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They stood up. Now the moon fell upon them both; and they viewed each
+      other with no little curiosity. What the prince saw pleased him, for he
+      possessed a good eye. What Maurice saw was a frank, manly countenance,
+      youthful, almost boyish. The prince did not look to be more than three and
+      twenty, if that; but there was a man's determination in his jaw. This jaw
+      pleased Maurice, for it confided to him that Madame had now something that
+      would cause her worry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I put myself in your care,&rdquo; said the prince, offering his hand. &ldquo;I am not
+      equal to much. A man can not see his wedding day come and go without him,
+      helpless to prevent it, and not have the desire to sit down and weep and
+      curse. You will see nothing but the unfavorable side of me for the next
+      dozen hours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm not altogether amiable myself,&rdquo; replied Maurice with a short laugh.
+      &ldquo;Let us get out of the moonlight,&rdquo; he added; &ldquo;we are somewhat conspicuous,
+      and besides, we should keep moving; this cold is paralyzing. Is your
+      Highness equal to the climbing?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Equal or not, lead the way. If I fall I'll call you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And the weary march began again; over boulders, through tangles of tough
+      shrubbery, up steep inclines, around precipices, sometimes enveloped in
+      mists, yet still they kept on. Often the prince fell over ragged stones,
+      but he picked himself up without assistance; though he swore some, Maurice
+      thought none the less of him for that bit of human weakness. The cold was
+      numbing, and neither felt the cuts and bruises.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After two hours of this fatiguing labor they arrived upon a small plateau,
+      about two thousand feet above the valley. The scene was solemn and
+      imposing. The world seemed lying at their feet. The chateau, half hidden
+      in the mist, sparkled like an opal. Maurice scowled at it. To the prince
+      the vision was as reviving as a glass of wine. He threatened it with his
+      fist, and plunged on with renewed vigor. There are few sensations so
+      stimulating as the thought of a complete revenge. The angle of vision
+      presently changed, and the historic pile vanished. Maurice never saw the
+      Red Chateau again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Little more in the way of mishap befell them; and when the moon had
+      wheeled half way down from the zenith, the kingdom lay below them. A
+      descent of an hour's duration brought them into the pass. Maurice
+      calculated that nearly five hours had passed since he left the chateau;
+      for the blue was fading in the east. The phantom vitality of the prince
+      now forsook him; his legs refused their offices, and he sank upon a
+      boulder, his head in his hands. Maurice was not much better; but the
+      prince had given him the burden of responsibility, and he was determined
+      to hold up under it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If your Highness will remain here,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I will fetch assistance,
+      for the barrack can not be far off.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince nodded and Maurice tramped away. But the miniature barrack and
+      the quaint stone customs house both were wrapt in gloom and darkness.
+      Maurice investigated. Both buildings were deserted; there was no sign of
+      life about. He broke a window, and entered the customs office. Remembering
+      that Colonel Mollendorf smoked, he searched the inner pocket of his coat.
+      He drew forth a box of wax matches, struck one and looked about. A
+      struggle had taken place. Evidences were strewn on the floor. The
+      telegraph operator's table had been smashed into bits, the instrument
+      twisted out of shape, the jars broken and the wires cut. Like indications
+      of a disturbance were also found in the barrack.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice began to comprehend. Madame's troopers had crossed the frontier,
+      but they had returned again, taking with them the handful of troopers
+      belonging to the king. It was plain that the object of this skirmish had
+      been to destroy communications between Bleiberg and the frontier. Madame
+      desired to effect a complete surprise, to swoop down on the capital before
+      it could bring a large force into the field.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There is an unwritten law that when one country intends to wage war
+      against its neighbor a formal declaration shall be made. But again Madame
+      had forsaken the beaten paths. More than three weeks had passed since the
+      duchy's representative in Bleiberg had been discredited and given his
+      passports. At once the duchess had retaliated by discrediting the king's
+      representative in Brunnstadt. Ordinarily this would have been understood
+      as a mutual declaration of war. Instead, both governments ignored each
+      other, one suspiciously, the other intentionally. All of which is to say,
+      the gage of war had been flung, but neither had stooped to pick it up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Perhaps Madame expected by this sudden aggressiveness to win her fight
+      with as little loss of blood as possible, which in justice to her was to
+      her credit. Again, a declaration of war openly made might have moved the
+      confederation to veto it by coercion. To win without loss of life would
+      leave the confederation powerless to act. Therefore it will be seen that
+      Madame was not only a daring woman, but a general of no mean ability.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This post was an isolated one; between it and Bleiberg there was not even
+      a village. The main pass from the kingdom into the duchy was about thirty
+      miles east. Here was a small but lively city named Coberg, a railway
+      center, garrisoned by one thousand troops. At this pass Madame's
+      contemplated stroke of war would have been impossible. The railway ran
+      directly from Coberg to Brunnstadt, fifty miles south of the frontier. A
+      branch of the railway ran from Brunnstadt to a small town seven miles
+      south of the Red Chateau, which accounts for the ease with which Madame's
+      troops had reached the isolated pass. It was now likely that Madame would
+      arrive before Bleiberg ere her enemies dreamed of the stroke. Maurice
+      could see how well the traitorous administration had played into Madame's
+      hands. Here was the one weak spot, and they had allowed it to remain thus
+      weak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The kingdom is lost,&rdquo; thought Maurice. &ldquo;His Highness and I may as well
+      return to the chateau, for all the good our escape will do us. Hang them
+      all!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He began to forage, and discovered a bottle full of peach brandy. He drank
+      half the contents, reserving the remainder for the prince. As he lowered
+      the bottle there came a sound which caused him almost to lose hold of the
+      vigorous tonic. The sound he heard was the shrill whinney of a horse. He
+      pocketed the bottle and dashed out to the stables. To his joy several
+      horses stamped restlessly in the stalls. The attacking party had without
+      doubt come on foot. He led out two, saddled and bridled them and returned
+      to the prince, who had fallen asleep. Maurice roused him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To Bleiberg, your Highness,&rdquo; he cried, at the same time offering the
+      bottle, which the prince did not hesitate to empty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ha!&rdquo; staggering to his feet. &ldquo;Where are the men?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice explained the cause of their absence. The prince swore, and
+      climbed with difficulty into the saddle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank God,&rdquo; he said, as they galloped away, &ldquo;we shall be there first.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Adieu, Madame!&rdquo; Maurice cried, airily. He was free.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To our next meeting, duchess!&rdquo; The prince, too, was free, but he thirsted
+      for a full revenge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They had been on the way but a short time when Maurice lifted his arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince raised his head. It was dawn, yellow and cold and pure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They fell into silence; sometimes Maurice caught himself counting the beat
+      of the hoofs and the variation of sounds, as when they struck sand or
+      slate, or crossed small wooden bridges. Here and there he saw peasants
+      going into the fields to begin the long, long day of toil. The saddle on
+      which he sat had been the property of a short man, for the stirrups were
+      too high, and the prince's were too low. But neither desired to waste time
+      to adjust them. And so they rode with dangling legs and bodies sunken in
+      the saddles; mute, as if by agreement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They had gone perhaps ten miles when they perceived a horse flying toward
+      them, half a mile away. The rider was not yet visible. They felt no alarm,
+      but instinctively they drew together. Nearer and nearer came the lonely
+      horseman, and as the distance lessened into some hundred yards they
+      discerned the flutter of a gown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A woman!&rdquo; exclaimed Maurice. &ldquo;And alone this time of morning!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh?&rdquo; cried the prince; &ldquo;and heading for the duchy? Let us wait.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They drew up to the side of the highway. The woman came fearlessly on, her
+      animal's head down and his tail flaring out behind. On, on; abreast of
+      them; as she flew past there was a vision of a pale, determined face, a
+      blond head bared to the chill wind. She heeded not their challenge; it was
+      a question whether or not she heard it. They stood watching her until she
+      and her horse dwindled into a mere moving speck, finally to become lost
+      altogether in a crook of the road.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should like to know what that means,&rdquo; said Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is very strange,&rdquo; the prince said, musingly. &ldquo;I have seen that woman
+      before. She is one of the dancers at the opera.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mayhap she has a lover on the other side.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mayhap. Let us be on. There's the sun, and we are a good thirteen miles
+      away!&rdquo; and the prince slapped the neck of his horse, which bounded
+      forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This tiring pace they maintained until they mounted the hill from which
+      they could see the glittering spires of the city, and the Werter See as it
+      flashed back the sunlight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bleiberg!&rdquo; Maurice waved his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks to you, that I look on it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was ten o'clock when they passed under the city gates.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur, will you go with me to the palace?&rdquo; asked the prince.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If your Highness will excuse me,&rdquo; said Maurice; &ldquo;no, I should be in the
+      way; and besides I am dead for want of sleep.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall never sleep,&rdquo; grumbled the prince, &ldquo;till I have humbled that
+      woman. And you? Have you no rankle in your heart? Have you no desire to
+      witness that woman's humiliation?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Highness, I belong to a foreign country.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No matter; be my aide. Come; I offer you a complete revenge for the
+      treatment you have received at Madame's hands. Your government shall never
+      know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice studied the mane of his horse. Suddenly he made a gesture. This
+      gesture consigned to the four winds his diplomatic career. &ldquo;I accept,&rdquo; he
+      said. &ldquo;You will find me at the Continental. I confess that I have no love
+      for this woman. She has robbed me of no little conceit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the palace, then; to the palace! And this hour to-morrow we, you and
+      I, will drink to her Royal Highness at the Red Chateau. To the palace!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Up the Strasse they raced, through the lower town to the upper, and down
+      the broad asphalt to the palace gates. The prince rushed his horse to the
+      very bars and shook them in his wild impatience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ho! open, open!&rdquo; he called.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Several cuirassiers lounged about. At the sight of these two hatless,
+      bedraggled men storming the gates, they ran forward with drawn swords and
+      angry cries. Lieutenant Scharfenstein was among them. At second glance he
+      recognized Maurice, who hailed him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Open, Lieutenant,&rdquo; he cried; &ldquo;it is his Highness, Prince Frederick!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The bars came down, the gates swung in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go and sleep,&rdquo; said the prince to Maurice; &ldquo;I will send an orderly for
+      you when the time comes.&rdquo; And with this he dashed up the driveway to the
+      main entrance of the palace, leaped from his horse and disappeared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice wheeled and drove leisurely to the Continental, leaving the amazed
+      cuirassiers gaping after him. He experienced that exuberance of spirits
+      which always comes with a delightful day dream. He forgot his weariness,
+      his bruises. To mingle directly in the affairs of kings and princes, to be
+      a factor among factors who surround and uphold thrones, seemed so at
+      variance with his republican learning that he was not sure that all this
+      was not one long dream&mdash;Fitzgerald and his consols, the meeting with
+      the princess, the adventures at Madame's chateau, the duel with Beauvais,
+      the last night's flight with the prince across the mountains! Yes; he had
+      fallen asleep somewhere and had been whisked away into a kind of
+      fairyland. Every one was in trouble just now, as they always are in
+      certain chapters of fairy tales, but all would end happily, and then&mdash;he
+      would wake.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meanwhile the prince entered the palace and was proceeding up the grand
+      corridor, when a bared sword stayed his progress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; said von Mitter, &ldquo;you have lost your way. You can not enter
+      here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I?&rdquo; a haughty, threatening expression on his pale face. &ldquo;Are you sure?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Mitter fell back against the wall and all but lost hold of his saber.
+      &ldquo;Your Highness?&rdquo; he gasped, overcome.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Even so!&rdquo; said the prince. &ldquo;The archbishop! the Marshal! Lead me to them
+      at once!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Mitter was too much the soldier not to master his surprise at once. He
+      saluted, clicked his heels and limped toward the throne room. He stopped
+      at the threshold, saluted again, and, in a voice full of quavers,
+      announced:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His Highness Prince Frederick of Carnavia.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stepped aside, and the prince pushed past him into the throne room. At
+      this dramatic entrance there rose from the archbishop, the Marshal, the
+      princess, the Carnavian ambassador, from all the court dignitaries, a cry
+      of wonder and astonishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His Highness!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye!&rdquo; cried the prince, brokenly, for his joy at seeing the princess nigh
+      overcame him. &ldquo;I have been a prisoner of Madame's, who at this moment is
+      marching on Bleiberg with an army four thousand strong!&rdquo; And stumblingly
+      he related his misadventures.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Marshal did not wait until he had done, nor did the new Colonel of the
+      cuirassiers; both rushed from the room. The archbishop frowned; while the
+      princess and the court stared at the prince with varying emotions. Before
+      the final word had passed his lips, he approached her Highness, fell on
+      his knee and raised her hand to his lips. He noticed not how cold it was.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank God, Mademoiselle,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that once more I look into your eyes.
+      And if one wedding day is gone&mdash;well, there is yet time for another!&rdquo;
+       He, rose, and proudly before them all he drew her toward him and kissed
+      her cheek. It was his right; she was, the light of all his dreams, at once
+      his bride-to-be and lady-love. But in his joy and eagerness he did not see
+      how pale she grew at the touch of his lips, nor how the lids of her eyes
+      trembled and fell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Next the prince recounted Maurice's adventures, how he became connected
+      with those at the chateau, even Fitzgerald's fall from grace. The
+      indignation and surprise which was accorded this recital was unbounded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The brown eyes of the princess filled. In a moment she had traversed the
+      space of ten years to a rare September noon, when a gray-haired old man
+      had kissed her hand and praised her speech. A young dog stood beside her,
+      ready for a romp in the park. Across the path sat her father, who was
+      smiling, and who would never smile again. How many times had her girlish
+      fancy pictured the son of that old man! How many times had she dreamed of
+      him&mdash;aye, prayed for him! The room grew dark, and she pressed her
+      hand over her heart. To her the future was empty indeed. There was nothing
+      left but the vague perfume of the past, the faint incense of futile,
+      childish dreams. To stand on the very threshold of life, and yet to see no
+      joy beyond! She struggled against the sob which rose, and conquered it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To arms, Messieurs, to arms!&rdquo; cried the prince, feverishly. &ldquo;To arms!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The archbishop stepped forward and took the prince's hand in his own.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God wills all things,&rdquo; he said, sadly, &ldquo;and perhaps he has willed that
+      your Highness should come too late!&rdquo; And that strange, habitual smile was
+      gone&mdash;forever. No one could fathom the true significance of this
+      peculiar speech.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But 'aux armes' was taken up, and spread throughout the city.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXV. THE FORTUNES OF WAR
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      War! The whole city was in tumult. The guests were leaving the hotels, the
+      timid were preparing to fly, and shopkeepers were putting up their blinds
+      and hiding their valuables; the parks and cafes were deserted. The railway
+      booking office was crowded, and a babel of tongues quarreled for
+      precedence. The siege of Paris was but yesterday's news, and tourists did
+      not propose to be walled in from the outer world. Some looked upon the
+      scene as a comic opera; others saw the tragedy of men snarling at one
+      another's throats.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Two hundred gendarmes patrolled the streets; for in war time the dregs of
+      a city float to the surface. Above the foreign legations flags rose,
+      offering protection to all those who possessed the right to claim it. Less
+      than four thousand troops had marched from the city that day, but these
+      were the flower of the army, consisting of two thousand foot, six cannon
+      and twelve hundred horse. Europe has always depended largely on the
+      cavalry, which in the past has been a most formidable engine in warfare.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With gay plumes and banners, glittering helmets and flashing cuirasses,
+      they had gone forth to meet Madame and drive her back across the range.
+      They had made a brave picture, especially the royal cuirassiers, who
+      numbered three hundred strong, and who were to fight not only for glory,
+      but for bread. Fifty of them had been left behind to guard the palaces.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the royal bedchamber the king lay, all unconscious of the fate
+      impending. The brain had ceased to live; only a feeble pulse stirred
+      irregularly. The state physician shook his head, and, from time to time,
+      laid his fingers on the unfeeling wrist. To him it was a matter of a few
+      hours.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But to the girl, whose face lay hidden in the counterpane, close to one of
+      those senseless hands, to her it was a matter of a breaking heart, of eyes
+      which could be no longer urged to tears, the wells having dried up. Dear
+      God, she thought, how cruel it was! Her tried and trusted friend, the one
+      playmate of her childhood, was silently slipping out of her life forever.
+      Ah, what to her were crowns and kingdoms, aye, and even war? Her father
+      dead, what mattered it who reigned? How she prayed that he might live!
+      They would go away together, and live in peace and quiet, undisturbed by
+      the storms of intrigue.... It was not to be; he was dying. She would be
+      the wife of no man; her father, hovering in spirit above her, would read
+      her heart and understand. Dead, he would ask no sacrifice of her.
+      Henceforth only God would be her king, and she would worship him in some
+      sacred convent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The old valet, who had served his master from boyhood, stood in the
+      anteroom and fumbled his lips, his faded eyes red with weeping. He was
+      losing the only friend he had. Elsewhere the servants wandered about
+      restlessly, waiting for news from the front, to learn if they, too, were
+      to join in the mad flight from the city. Few servants love masters in
+      adversity. Self-interest is the keynote to their existences.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the east wing three men were holding a whispered consultation. The
+      faces of two were pale and deep-lined; the face of the third expressed a
+      mixture of condolence and triumph. These three gentlemen were the
+      archbishop, the chancellor and the Austrian ambassador. History has not
+      taken into account what passed between these three men, but subsequent
+      events proved that it signified disaster to one who dreamed of conquest
+      and of power.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Said the ambassador, rising: &ldquo;After what has been said, his Imperial
+      Majesty will, I can speak authoritatively, further discredit Walmoden; for
+      I have this day received information from a reliable source which
+      precludes any rehabilitation of that prince. My deepest sympathies are
+      with her Highness; his Majesty highly honored her unfortunate father.
+      Permit me to bid you good day, for you know that the matter under my hand
+      needs my immediate attention.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When he had gone the prelate said: &ldquo;My friend, our services to the kingdom
+      are nearly over.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are lost!&rdquo; replied the chancellor. &ldquo;The king is happy, indeed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I find,&rdquo; said the prelate, &ldquo;that we have been lost for ten years. Had
+      this Englishman proved true, it would not have mattered; had Prince
+      Frederick arrived in time, still it would not have mattered. But above
+      all, I was determined that Madame the duchess should not triumph. The end
+      was written ten years ago. How invincible is fate! How incontestible its
+      decrees!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In the lower town the students were preparing a riot, which was to take
+      place that night. Old Stuler's was thronged. Stuler himself looked on
+      indifferently, even listlessly. He had heard of Kopf's death.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was half after five of the afternoon. Six miles beyond the Althofen
+      bridge, in all thirteen miles from Bleiberg, a long, low cloud of dust
+      hung over the king's highway. This cloud of dust was caused by the
+      hurried, rhythmic pad-pad of human feet, the striking of hoofs and the
+      wheels of cannon. It marked the progress of an army. To the great surprise
+      of the Marshal, the prince and the staff, they had pushed thus far during
+      the afternoon without seeing a sign of the enemy. Was Madame asleep? Was
+      she so confident her projects were unknown that she had chosen night as
+      the time of her attack? Night, indeed, when the strength of her forces
+      would be a matter of conjecture to the assaulted, who at the suddenness of
+      her approach would succumb to panic! The prince was jubilant and hopeful.
+      He had no doubt that they would arrive at the pass just as Madame was
+      issuing forth. This meant an easy victory, for once the guns covered the
+      narrow pass, though Madame's army were ten times as strong, its defeat was
+      certain. A small force might hold it in check for hours.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A squadron of cuirassiers had been sent forward to reconnoiter, and as yet
+      none had returned with alarms. The road had many windings, and was
+      billowed frequently with hills, and ran through small forests. Only the
+      vast blue bulk of the mountains remained ever in view.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We shall drink at the Red Chateau to-night,&rdquo; said the prince, gaily, to
+      Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That we shall,&rdquo; replied Maurice; &ldquo;and the best in the cellars.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Only the Marshal said nothing; he knew what war was. In his youth he had
+      served in Transylvania, and he was not minded to laugh and jest. Then,
+      too, there was injustice on both sides. Poor devil! as his thoughts
+      recurred to the king. Touched for the moment by the wings of ambition,
+      which is at best a white vulture, he had usurped another's throne, and to
+      this end! But he was less answerable than the archbishop, who had urged
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Occasionally he glanced back at the native troops, the foot, the horse,
+      the artillery, and scowled. From these his glance wandered to the cold,
+      impassive face of General Kronau, who rode at his side, and he rubbed his
+      nose. Kronau had been a favorite of Albrecht's... How would he act? In
+      truth, the Marshal's thoughts were not altogether pleasant. Some of these
+      men surrounding him, exchanging persiflage, might never witness another
+      sunset. For, while the world would look upon this encounter as one looks
+      upon a comedy, for some it would serve as tragedy. Often he lent his ear
+      to the gay banter of the young American, and watched the careless smile on
+      his face. What was he doing here? Why was he risking his life for no cause
+      whatever, an alien, in natural sympathy neither with the kingdom nor with
+      the duchy? A sad, grim smile parted his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O, the urbanity of the young and the brave!&rdquo; he murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice felt the old familiar exhilaration&mdash;the soldier's
+      exhilaration&mdash;quicken the beat of his pulse. He did not ask himself
+      why he was here; he knew why. A delightful flower had sprung up in his
+      heart, and fate had nipped it. Whither this new adventure would lead him
+      he cared not. From now on life for him must be renewed by continual change
+      and excitement. Since no one depended on him, his life was his to dispose
+      of as he willed. Friends? He laughed. He knew the world too well. He
+      himself was his best friend, for he had always been true to himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He might be shot, but he had faced that possibility before. Besides,
+      to-day's experience would be new to him. He had never witnessed a battle
+      in the open, man to man, in bright, resplendent uniforms. A ragged, dusty
+      troop of brown-skinned men in faded blue, with free and easy hats,
+      irregular of formation, no glory, no brilliancy, skirmishing with outlawed
+      white men and cunning Indians, that was the extent of his knowledge by
+      experience. True, these self-same men in dingy blue fought with a daring
+      such as few soldiers living possessed; but they lacked the ideal
+      picturesqueness which made this army so attractive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sharp edges of his recent fatigue were not yet dulled, but his cuirass
+      sat lightly upon him, the sound of the dangling saber at his side smote
+      pleasantly his ear, and the black Mecklenberg under him was strong and
+      active. To return to Madame's chateau in the guise of a conqueror was a
+      most engaging thought. She had humbled his self-love, now to humble hers!
+      He no longer bothered himself about Beauvais, whose case he had placed in
+      the hands of the Austrian ambassador.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gay and debonair he rode that late September afternoon. No man around him
+      had so clear an eye nor so constant a vivacity. Since he had nothing but
+      his life to lose, he had no fear. Let the theater be full of light while
+      the play lasted, and let the curtain fall to a round of huzzas! For a few
+      short hours ago he had kissed a woman's hand and had looked into her sad
+      brown eyes. &ldquo;Why you do this I do not know, nor shall I ask. Monsieur, my
+      prayers go with you.&rdquo; Was not that an amulet? His diplomatic career! He
+      fell to whistling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! que j'aime les militaires!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      More than once the prince felt the sting of envy in his heart at the sight
+      of this embodiment of supreme nonchalance. It spoke of a healthy salt in
+      the veins, a salt such as kings themselves can not always boast of. A
+      foreigner, a republican? No matter; a gallant man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; he said impulsively, &ldquo;you shall always possess my friendship,
+      once we are well out of this.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks, your Highness,&rdquo; replied Maurice, and laughing; &ldquo;the after-thought
+      is timely!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The sun lay close to the western rim of hills; an opal sky encompassed the
+      earth; the air was balmy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The French call this St. Martin's summer,&rdquo; said Maurice. &ldquo;In my country
+      we call it Indian summer&mdash;ah!&rdquo; lifting in his stirrups.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The army was approaching a hill, when suddenly a whirlwind of dust rolled
+      over the summit, and immediately a reconnoitering patrol came dashing into
+      view, waving their sabers aloft.... The enemy was less than a mile away,
+      and advancing rapidly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To anticipate. Madame the duchess had indeed contemplated striking the
+      blow at night. That morning, like the brave Amazon she was, she had
+      pitched her tent in the midst of her army, to marshal and direct its
+      forces. It was her intention to be among the first to enter Bleiberg; for
+      she was a soldier's daughter, and could master the inherent fears of her
+      sex.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That same morning a woman entered the lines and demanded an audience. What
+      passed between her and Madame the duchess others never knew. She had also
+      been apprised of the prisoners' escape, but, confident that they would not
+      be able to make a crossing, she disdained pursuit. The prince had missed
+      his wedding day; he was no longer of use to her. As to the American, he
+      would become lost, and that would be the end of him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the Englishman.... He was conscience eternally barking at her heels.
+      The memory of that kiss still rankled in her mind, and not an hour went by
+      in which she did not chide herself for the folly. How to get rid of him
+      perplexed her. Here he was, in the uniform of a Lieutenant-Colonel, ready
+      to go to any lengths at a sign from her. There was something in her heart
+      which she had not yet analyzed. First of all, her crown; as to her heart,
+      there was plenty of time in which to study that peculiar and unstable
+      organ. The possibility of the prince's arriving in Bleiberg before her in
+      no way disturbed her. Whenever her attack was made, failure would not
+      attend it. She broke camp at two o'clock and took the road leisurely
+      toward Bleiberg.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus, the two armies faced each other comparatively in the open. A battle
+      hung in the air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The king's forces came to an abrupt halt. Orderlies dashed to and fro. The
+      artillery came rumbling and creaking to the front, wheeled, the guns
+      unlimbered and ranged so as to enfilade the road. The infantry deployed to
+      right and left while the cavalry swung into position on the flanks. All
+      this was accomplished with the equanimity of dress parade. Maurice could
+      not control his admiration. Madame, he thought, might win her crown, but
+      at a pretty cost.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Marshal and the staff posted themselves on the right breast of the
+      hill, from whence, by the aid of binoculars, they could see the enemy.
+      From time to time General Kronau nervously smoothed his beard, formed his
+      lips into words, but did not utter them, and glanced slyly from the corner
+      of his eye at the Marshal, who was intent on the enemy's approach. Maurice
+      was trying with naked eye to pierce the forest and the rolling ground
+      beyond, and waiting for the roar of the guns.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Orders had been issued for the gunners to get the range and commence
+      firing; but as the gunners seemed over long in getting down to work,
+      Maurice gazed around impatiently. The blood rushed into his heart. For
+      this is what he saw: the infantry leaning indolently on their guns, their
+      officers snipping the grasses with their swords; the cuirassiers hidden in
+      the bulk of the native cavalry; artillerymen seated carelessly on the
+      caissons, and the gunners smoking and leaning against the guns. All action
+      was gone, as if by magic; nothing but a strange tableau remained!
+      Moreover, a troop of native cavalry, which, for no apparent reason, had
+      not joined the main body, had closed in on the general staff. Appalled by
+      a sudden thought, Maurice touched the prince, who lowered his glasses and
+      turned his head. Bewilderment widened his eyes, and the flush on his
+      cheeks died away. He, too, saw.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Devil's name!&rdquo; the Marshal burst forth, &ldquo;why don't the blockheads shoot?
+      The enemy&mdash;&rdquo; He stopped, his chin fell, for, as he turned, a single
+      glance explained all to him. The red on his face changed into a sickly
+      purple, and the glasses slipped from his hands and broke into pieces on
+      the stony ground.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marshal,&rdquo; began General Kronau, &ldquo;I respect your age and valiant services.
+      That is why we have come thirteen miles. You may keep your sword, and also
+      Monsieur the prince. For the present you are prisoners.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment the Marshal was stupefied. His secret fears had been
+      realized. Suddenly a hoarse oath issued from his lips, he dragged his
+      saber from the scabbard, raised it and made a terrible sweep at the
+      General. But the stroke fell on a dozen intervening blades, and the
+      Marshal's arms were held and forced to his sides.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kronau... you?&rdquo; he roared. &ldquo;Betrayed! You despicable coward and traitor!
+      You&mdash;&rdquo; But speech forsook him, and he would have fallen from the
+      horse but for those who held his arms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Traitor?&rdquo; echoed Kronau, coolly. &ldquo;To what and to whom? I am serving my
+      true and legitimate sovereign. I am also serving humanity, since this
+      battle is to be bloodless. It is you who are the traitor. You swore
+      allegiance to the duke, and that allegiance is the inheritance of the
+      daughter. How have you kept your oath?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But the Marshal was incapable of answer. One looking at him would have
+      said that he was suffering from a stroke of apoplexy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I admit,&rdquo; went on the General, not wholly unembarrassed, &ldquo;that the part I
+      play is not an agreeable one to me, but it is preferable to the needless
+      loss of human life. The duchess was to have entered Bleiberg at night, to
+      save us this present dishonor, if you persist in calling it such. But his
+      Highness, who is young, and Monseigneur the archbishop, who dreams of
+      Richelieu, made it impossible. No harm is intended to any one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The prince, white and shivering as if with ague, broke his sword on the
+      pommel of the saddle and hurled the pieces at Kronau, who permitted them
+      to strike him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God's witness,&rdquo; the prince cried furiously, &ldquo;but your victory shall be
+      short-lived. I have an army, trusty to the last sword, and you shall feel
+      the length of its arm within forty-eight hours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; said Kronau, shrugging.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is already on the way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Highness forgets that Carnavia belongs to the confederation, and
+      that the king, your father, dare not send you troops without the consent
+      of the emperor, which, believe me, will never be given;&rdquo; and he urged his
+      horse down the slope.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The army of the duchess had now gained the open. The advance was composed
+      of cavalry, which came along the road with wings on either side, and with
+      great dash and splendor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A noisy cheer arose, to be faintly echoed by the oncoming avalanche of
+      white horses and dazzling blue uniforms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was the incident upon which Madame the duchess relied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With rage and chagrin in his heart, Maurice viewed the scene. The knell of
+      the Osians had been struck. He gazed forlornly at the cuirassiers; they at
+      least had come to sell their lives honestly for their bread. Presently the
+      two armies came together; all was confusion and cheers. Kronau approached
+      the leader of the cavalry.... Maurice was greatly disturbed. He leaned
+      toward the prince.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Highness,&rdquo; he whispered, &ldquo;I am going to make a dash for the road.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes!&rdquo; replied the prince, intuitively. &ldquo;My God, yes! Warn her to
+      fly, so that she will not be compelled to witness this cursed woman's
+      triumph. Save her that humiliation. Go, and God be with you, my friend! We
+      are all dishonored. The Marshal looks as if he were dying.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The native troopers, in their eagerness to witness the meeting between
+      Kronau and the former Colonel of the cuirassiers, had pushed forward. A
+      dozen, however, had hemmed in the Marshal, the prince and Maurice. But
+      these were standing in their stirrups. Maurice gradually brought his horse
+      about so that presently he was facing north. Directly in front of him was
+      an opening. He grasped his saber firmly and pressed the spurs. Quick as he
+      was, two sabers barred his way, but he beat them aside, went diagonally
+      down the hill, over the stone wall and into the road.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While he was maneuvering for this dash, one man had been eying him with
+      satisfaction. As the black horse suddenly sank from view behind the hill,
+      Beauvais, to the astonishment of Kronau, drew his revolver.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There goes a man,&rdquo; he cried, &ldquo;who must not escape. He is so valuable that
+      I shall permit no one but myself to bring him back!&rdquo; And the splendid
+      white animal under him bounded up the hill and down the other side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Beauvais had a well-defined purpose in following alone. He was determined
+      that one Maurice Carewe should not bother anyone hereafter; he knew too
+      much.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The white horse and the black faded away in the blur of rising dust.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVI. A PAGE FROM TASSO
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      For a long time Maurice rode with his head almost touching the coal black
+      mane of his gallant Mecklenberg. Twice he glanced back to see who
+      followed, but the volume of dust which rolled after him obscured all
+      behind. He could hear the far-off hammer of hoofs, but this, mingling with
+      the noise of his own horse, confused him as to the number of pursuers. He
+      reasoned that he was well out of range, for there came no report of
+      firearms. The road presently described a semi-circle, passing through a
+      meager orchard. Once beyond this he turned again in the saddle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only one; that is not so bad as it might be. It is one to one.&rdquo; But a
+      second glance told him who this solitary pursuer was. &ldquo;The devil!&rdquo; he
+      laughed&mdash;as one of Tasso's heroes might have laughed!&mdash;&ldquo;The
+      devil! how that man loves me!&rdquo; He was confident that the white horse would
+      never overtake the black.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On they flew, pursued and pursuer. At length Maurice bit his lip and
+      frowned. The white horse was growing larger; the distance between was
+      lessening, slowly but certainly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good boy!&rdquo; he said encouragingly to the Mecklenberg. &ldquo;Good boy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Deserted farm houses swept past; hills rose and vanished, but still the
+      white horse crept up, up, up. The distance ere another half mile had gone
+      had diminished to four hundred yards; from four hundred it fell to three
+      hundred, from three hundred to two hundred. The Mecklenburg was doing
+      glorious work, but the marvelous stride of the animal in the rear was
+      matchless. Suddenly Maurice saw a tuft of the red plume on his helmet
+      spring out ahead of him and sail away, and a second later came the report.
+      One, he counted; four more were to follow. Next a stream of fire gassed
+      along his cheek, and something warm trickled down the side of his neck.
+      Two, he counted, his face now pale and set. The third knocked his scabbard
+      into the air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Quickly he shifted his saber to the left, dropped the reins and drew his
+      own revolver. He understood. He was not to be taken prisoner. Beauvais
+      intended to kill him offhand. Only the dead keep secrets. Maurice flung
+      about and fired three consecutive times. The white horse reared, and the
+      shako of his master fell into the dust, but there was no other result. As
+      Maurice pressed the trigger for the fourth time the revolver was violently
+      wrenched from his hand, and a thousand needles seemed to be quivering in
+      the flesh of his arm and hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My God, what a shot!&rdquo; he murmured. &ldquo;I am lost!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Simultaneous with the fifth and last shot came sensation somewhat like
+      that caused by a sound blow in the middle of the back. Strange, but he
+      felt no pain, neither was there an accompanying numbness. Then he
+      remembered his cuirass, which was of steel an eighth of an inch thick. It
+      had saved his life. The needles began to leave his right hand and arm, and
+      he knew that he had received no injury other than a shock. He passed the
+      saber back to his right hand. He had no difficulty in holding it.
+      Gradually his grip grew strong and steady.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Beauvais was now within twenty yards of Maurice. Had he been less eager
+      and held his fire up to this point, Maurice had been a dead man. The white
+      horse gained every moment. A dull fury grew into life in Maurice's heart.
+      Instead of continuing the race, he brought the Mecklenberg to his haunches
+      and wheeled. He made straight for Beauvais, who was surprised at this
+      change of tactics. In the rush they passed each other and the steel hummed
+      spitefully through space. Both wheeled again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your life or mine!&rdquo; snarled Maurice. His coolness, however, was
+      proportionate to his rage. For the first time in his life the lust to kill
+      seized him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It shall be yours, damn you!&rdquo; replied Beauvais.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Austrian ambassador has your history; kill me or not, you are lost.&rdquo;
+       Maurice made a sweep at his enemy's head and missed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Beauvais replied in kind, and it flashed viciously off the point of
+      Maurice's saber. He had only his life to lose, but it had suddenly become
+      precious to him; Beauvais had not only his life, but all that made life
+      worth living. His onslaught was terrible. Besides, he was fighting against
+      odds; he wore no steel protector. Maurice wore his only a moment longer. A
+      cut in the side severed the lacings, and the sagging of the cuirass
+      greatly handicapped him. He pressed the spurs and dashed away, while
+      Beauvais cursed him for a cowardly cur. Maurice, by this maneuver, gained
+      sufficient time to rid himself of the cumbersome steel. What he lost in
+      protection, he gained in lightness and freedom. Shortly Beauvais was at
+      him again. The time for banter had passed; they fought grimly and
+      silently. The end for one was death. Beauvais knew that if his antagonist
+      escaped this time the life he longed for, the power and honor it promised,
+      would never be his. On his side, Maurice was equally determined to live.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The horses plunged and snorted, reared and swayed and bit. Sometimes they
+      carried their masters several yards apart, only to come smashing together
+      again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sun was going down, and a clear, white light prevailed. Afar in the
+      field a herd was grazing, but no one would call them to the sheds. Master
+      and mistress had long since taken flight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The duel went on. Maurice was growing tired. By and by he began to rely
+      solely on the defense. When they were close, Beauvais played for the
+      point; the moment the space widened he took to the edge. He saw what
+      Maurice felt&mdash;the weakening, and he indulged in a cruel smile. They
+      came close; he made as though to give the point. Maurice, thinking to
+      anticipate, reached. Quick as light Beauvais raised his blade and brought
+      it down with crushing force, standing the while in the stirrups. The blow
+      missed Maurice's head by an inch, but it sank so deeply in his left
+      shoulder that it splintered the collar bone and stopped within a hair of
+      the great artery that runs underneath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The world turned red, then black. When it grew light again Maurice beheld
+      the dripping blade swinging aloft again. Suddenly the black horse snapped
+      at the white, which veered. The stroke which would have split Maurice's
+      skull in twain, fell on the rear of the saddle, and the blade was so
+      firmly imbedded in the wooden molding that Beauvais could not withdraw it
+      at once. Blinded by pain as he was, and fainting, yet Maurice saw his
+      chance. He thrust with all his remaining strength at the brown throat so
+      near him. And the blade went true. The other's body stiffened, his head
+      flew back, his eyes started; he clutched wildly at the steel, but his
+      hands had not the power to reach it. A bloody foam gushed between his
+      lips; his mouth opened; he swayed, and finally tumbled into the road&mdash;dead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As Maurice gazed down at him, between the dead eyes and his own there
+      passed a vision of a dark-skinned girl, who, if still living, dwelt in a
+      lonely convent, thousands of miles away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice was sensible of but little pain; a pleasant numbness began to
+      steal over him. His sleeve was soaked, his left hand was red, and the
+      blood dripped from his fingers and made round black spots in the dust of
+      the road. A circle of this blackness was widening about the head of the
+      fallen man. Maurice watched it, fascinated... He was dead, and the fact
+      that he was a prince did not matter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It seemed to Maurice that his own body was transforming into lead, and he
+      vaguely wondered how the horse could bear up such a weight. He was sleepy,
+      too. Dimly it came to him that he also must be dying.... No; he would not
+      die there, beside this man. He still gripped his saber. Indeed, his hand
+      was as if soldered to the wire and leather windings on the hilt.
+      Mollendorf had said that Beauvais was invincible.... Beauvais was dead.
+      Was he, too, dying?... No; he would not die there. The Mecklenberg started
+      forward at a walk; a spur had touched him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No!&rdquo; Maurice cried, throwing off the drowsiness. &ldquo;My God, I will not die
+      here!... Go, boy!&rdquo; The Mecklenberg set off, loping easily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His recent enemy, the great white horse, stood motionless in the center of
+      the road, and followed him with large, inquiring eyes. He turned and
+      looked at the silent huddled mass in the dust at his feet, and whinneyed.
+      But he did not move; a foot still remained in the stirrup.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Soon Maurice remembered an episode of his school days, when, in the spirit
+      of precocious research, he had applied carbolic acid to his arm. It
+      occurred to him that he was now being bathed in that burning fluid. He was
+      recovering from the shock. With returning sense came the increase of pain,
+      pain so tormenting and exquisite that sobs rose in his throat and choked
+      him. Perspiration matted his hair; every breath he took was a knife
+      thrust, and the rise and fall of the horse, gentle as it was, caused the
+      earth to reel and careen heavenward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bleiberg; he was to reach Bleiberg. He repeated this thought over and
+      over. Bleiberg, to warn her. Why should he go to Bleiberg to warn her?
+      What was he doing here, he who loved life so well? What had led him into
+      this?... There had been a battle, but neither army had been cognizant of
+      it. He endeavored to move his injured arm, and found it bereft of
+      locomotion. The tendons had been cut. And he could not loosen his grip on
+      the saber which he held in his right hand. The bridle rein swung from side
+      to side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rivulets of fire began to run up and down his side; the cords in his neck
+      were stiffening. Still the blood went drip, drip, drip, into the dust.
+      Would he reach Bleiberg, or would he die on the way? God! for a drink of
+      water, cold water. He set his teeth in his lips to neutralize the pain in
+      his arm and shoulder. His lips were numb, and the pressure of his teeth
+      was as nothing. From one moment to the next he expected to drop from the
+      saddle, but somehow he hung on; the spark of life was tenacious. The saber
+      dangled on one side, the scabbard on the other. The blood, drying in
+      places, drew the skin as tight as a drumhead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On, on, on; up long inclines, down the steeps; he lost all track of time,
+      and the darkness thickened and the stars stood out more clearly.... He
+      could look back on a clean life; true, there were some small stains, but
+      these were human. Strange fancies jostled one another; faces long forgot
+      reappeared; scenes from boyhood rose before him. Home! He had none, save
+      that which was the length and breadth of his native land. On, on, on; the
+      low snuffle of the horse sometimes aroused him from the stupor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why you do this I do not know, nor shall I ask. Monsieur, my prayers go
+      with you!&rdquo;... She had said that to him, and had given him her hand to
+      kiss; a princess, one of the chosen and the few. To live long enough to
+      see her again; a final service&mdash;and adieu!... Ah, but it had been a
+      good fight, a good fight. No fine phrases; nothing but the lust for blood;
+      a life for a life; a game in which the winner was also like to lose. A
+      gray patch in the white of the road attracted his attention&mdash;a
+      bridge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Water!&rdquo; he murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mottled with the silver of the stars, it ran along through the fields; a
+      brook, shallow and narrow, but water. The perfume of the grasses was
+      sweet; the horse sniffed joyously. He stopped of his own accord. Maurice
+      had strength enough to dismount. The saber slid from his grasp. He
+      staggered down to the water. In kneeling a faintness passed over him; he
+      rolled into the brook and lay there until the water, almost clogging his
+      throat and nostrils, revived him. He crawled to his knees, coughing and
+      choking. The contact of the cold with the burning wound caused a
+      delightful sensation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Water!&rdquo; he said, and splashed it in his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The horse had come down from the road. He had not waited for an
+      invitation. He drank thirstily at the side of his master. The water
+      gurgled in his long, black throat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good boy!&rdquo; Maurice called, and dashed water against his shoulder. &ldquo;Good
+      boy!&rdquo; he remembered that the horse in biting the white one had saved his
+      life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Each handful of the cold liquid caused him to gasp; but soon the fever and
+      fire died out, leaving only the duller pain. When he rose from his knees,
+      however, he found that the world had not yet ceased its wild reeling. He
+      stooped to regain his saber, and fell into the dust; though to him it was
+      not he who fell, but the earth which rose. He struggled to his feet,
+      leaned panting on his saber, and tried to steady himself. He laughed
+      hysterically. He had dismounted, but he knew that he could never climb to
+      the back of the horse; and Bleiberg might yet be miles away. To walk the
+      distance; was it possible? To reach Bleiberg before Madame.... Madame the
+      duchess and her army! He laughed again, but there was a wild strain in his
+      laughter. Ah, God! what a farce it was! One man dead and another dying;
+      the beginning and the end of the war. The comic opera! La Grande Duchesse!
+      And the fool of an Englishman was playing Fritz! He started down the road,
+      his body slouched forward, the saber trailing in the dust....
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Voici le sabre de mon pere!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The hand of madness had touched him. The Mecklenberg followed at his heels
+      as a dog would have followed his master.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Less than a mile away a yellow haze wavered in the sky. It was the
+      reflection of the city lights.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice passed under the town gates, the wild song on his lips, his eyes
+      bloodshot, his hair dank about his brow, conscious of nothing but the mad,
+      rollicking rhythm. Nobody molested him; those he met gave him the full
+      width of the road. A strange picture they presented, the man and the troop
+      horse. Some one recognized the trappings of the horse; half an hour later
+      it was known throughout the city that the king's army had been defeated
+      and that Madame was approaching. Students began their depredations. They
+      built bonfires. They raided the office of the official paper, and
+      destroyed the presses and type. Later they marched around the
+      Hohenstaufenplatz, yelling and singing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Once a gendarme tried to stop Maurice and inquire into his business. The
+      inquisition was abruptly ended by a cut from the madman's sword. The
+      gendarme took to his legs. Maurice continued, and the Mecklenberg tramped
+      on after him. Into the Konigstrasse they turned. At this time, before the
+      news was known, the street was deserted. Up the center of it the man went,
+      his saber scraping along the asphalt, the horse always following.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Voici le sabre de mon pere! Tu vas le mettre a ton cote! Apres la
+      victoire, j'espere Te revoir en bonne sante.....
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The street lamps swayed; sometimes a dozen revolved on one post, and
+      Maurice would stop long enough to laugh. How easy it was to walk! All he
+      had to do was to lift a foot, and the pavement would rise to meet it. The
+      moon, standing high behind him, cast a long, weird shadow, and he
+      staggered after it and cut at it with the saber. It was only when he saw
+      the lights of the royal palace and the great globes on the gate posts that
+      sanity returned. This sanity was of short duration.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the palace!&rdquo; he cried; &ldquo;to the palace! To warn her!&rdquo; And he stumbled
+      against the gates, still calling, &ldquo;To the palace! To the palace!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The cuirassiers who had been left behind to protect the inmates of the
+      palace, were first aroused by the yelling and singing of the students.
+      They rushed out of the guard room and came running to the gates, which
+      they opened. The body of a man rolled inside. They stopped and examined
+      him; the uniform was theirs. The face they looked into was that of the
+      handsome young foreigner who, that day, had gone forth from the city, a
+      gay and gallant figure, who sat his horse so well that he earned their
+      admiration. What could this mean? And where were the others? Had there
+      been a desperate battle?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Run back to the guard room, one of you, and fetch some brandy. He lives.&rdquo;
+       And Lieutenant Scharfenstein took his hand from the insensible man's
+      heart. Pulsation was there, but weak and intermittent. &ldquo;Sergeant, take ten
+      men and clear the square. If they refuse to leave, kill! Madame is not yet
+      queen by any means.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The men scattered. One soon returned with the brandy. Scharfenstein
+      moistened the wounded man's lips and placed his palm under the nose.
+      Shortly Maurice opened his eyes, his half-delirious eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the palace!&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;to the palace&mdash;Ah!&rdquo; He saw the faces
+      staring down at him. He struggled. Instinctively they all stood back. What
+      seemed incredible to them, he got to his knees, from his knees to his
+      feet, and propped himself against a gate post. &ldquo;Your life or mine!&rdquo; he
+      cried. &ldquo;Come on; a man can die but once!&rdquo; He lunged, and again they
+      retreated. He laughed. &ldquo;It was a good fight!&rdquo; He reeled off toward the
+      palace steps. They did not hinder him, but they followed, expecting each
+      moment to see him fall. But, he fell not. One by one he mounted the steps,
+      steadying himself with the saber. He gained the landing, once more
+      steadied himself, and vanished into the palace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is out of his head!&rdquo; cried Scharfenstein, rushing up the steps. &ldquo;God
+      knows what has happened!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was in time to see Maurice lurch into the arms of Captain von Mitter,
+      who had barred the way to the private apartments.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Carewe!... What has happened? God's name, you are soaked in blood!&rdquo; Von
+      Mitter held Maurice at arm's length. &ldquo;A battle?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aye, a battle; one man is dead and another soon will be!&rdquo; A transient
+      lucidity beamed in Maurice's eyes. &ldquo;We were betrayed by the native troops;
+      they ran to meet Madame.... Marshal Kampf, Prince Frederick, and the
+      cuirassiers are prisoners.... I escaped. Beauvais, gave chase.... Wanted
+      to kill me.... He gave me this. I ran him through the throat.... Knew him
+      in South America.... He's dead! Inform the archbishop and her Highness
+      that Madame is nearing the city. The king&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush!&rdquo; said von Mitter, with a finger on his lip; &ldquo;hush! The king died at
+      six o'clock. God rest his soul!&rdquo; He crossed himself. &ldquo;A disgraceful day!
+      Curse the scheming woman, could she not let us bury him in peace? Prince
+      Frederick's father refused to send us aid.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am dying,&rdquo; said Maurice with a sob. &ldquo;Let me lie down somewhere; if I
+      fall I am a dead man.&rdquo; After a pause: &ldquo;Take me into the throne room. I
+      shall last till Madame comes. Let her find me there.... The brandy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Scharfenstein held the flask to the sufferer's lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The throne room?&rdquo; repeated von Mitter, surprised at this strange request.
+      &ldquo;Well, why not? For what is a throne when there is no king to sit on it?
+      You will not die, my friend, though the cut is a nasty one. What is an
+      arm? Life is worth a thousand of them! Quick! help me with him, Max!&rdquo; for
+      Maurice was reaching blindly toward him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The three troopers who had followed Scharfenstein came up, and the five of
+      them managed to carry Maurice into the throne room, and deposit him on the
+      cushions at the foot of the dais. There they left him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bad!&rdquo; said von Mitter, as he came limping out into the corridor. &ldquo;And he
+      made such a brave show when he left here this afternoon. I have grown to
+      love the fellow. A gallant man. I knew that the native troops were up to
+      something. So did the Colonel. Ach! I would give a year of my life to have
+      seen him and Beauvais. To kill Beauvais, the best saber in the kingdom&mdash;it
+      must have been a fight worthy of the legends. A bad day! They will laugh
+      at us. But, patience, the archbishop has something to say before the
+      curtain falls. Poor young man! He will lose his arm, if not his life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But how comes he into all this?&rdquo; asked Scharfenstein, perplexedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not for me or you to question, Max,&rdquo; said von Mitter, looking down.
+      He had his own opinion, but he was not minded to disclose it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you going to do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perform my duty until the end,&rdquo; sourly. &ldquo;Go you and help against the
+      students, who have not manliness enough even to respect the dead. The
+      cowardly servants are all gone; save the king's valet. There are only
+      seven of us in all. I will seek the king's physician; the dead are dead,
+      so let us concern ourselves with the living;&rdquo; and he limped off toward the
+      private apartments.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Scharfenstein hurried away to the square.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the royal bedchamber a girl murmured over a cold hand. &ldquo;God pity me; I
+      am all, all alone!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The archbishop was kneeling at the foot of the bed. In his heart was the
+      bitterness of loss and defeat. His dreams of greatness for this clay! The
+      worldly pomp which was to have attended it! Life was but a warm breath on
+      the mirror of eternity; for one the mirror was clear again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The square soon grew quiet; the students and the cuirassiers had met for
+      the last time. In the throne room shadows and silence prevailed. Maurice
+      lay upon the cushions, the hilt of the saber still in his hand.
+      Consciousness had returned, a clear, penetrating consciousness. At the
+      foot of the throne, he thought, and, mayhap, close to one not visible to
+      the human eye! What a checkerboard he had moved upon, and now the
+      checkmate! So long as the pain did not diminish, he was content; a sudden
+      ease was what he dreaded. Life was struggling to retain its hold. He did
+      not wish to die; he was young; there were long years to come; the world
+      was beautiful, and to love was the glory over it all. He wondered if
+      Beauvais still lay in the road where he had left him. Again he could see
+      that red saber swinging high; and he shivered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Half an hour passed, then came the distant murmur of voices, which
+      expanded into tumult. The victorious army, the brave and gallant army, had
+      entered the city, and was streaming toward the palaces. Huzzas rose amid
+      the blaring of bugles. The timorous came forth and added to the noise. The
+      conquerors trooped into the palace, and Madame the duchess looked with
+      shining eyes at the throne of her forefathers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVII. WORMWOOD AND LEES
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Madame, like a statue of expectancy, riveted her gaze on the throne. Hers
+      at last! Her dreams were realized. She was no longer a duchess by patent;
+      she was a queen by right of inheritance; she was now to be a power among
+      the great. The kingdom of her forefathers was hers. She had reached the
+      goal without bloodshed; she had been patient, and this was her reward. The
+      blaze of her ambition dimmed all other stars. Her bosom heaved, triumph
+      flashed in her beautiful eyes, and a smile parted her lips. Her first
+      thought had been to establish headquarters in the parlors of the
+      Continental Hotel, and from there to summon the archbishop, as a conqueror
+      summons the chief of the vanquished. But no; she could not wait; above all
+      things she desired the satisfaction of the eye. The throne of her
+      forefathers!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mine!&rdquo; she murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Over her shoulders peered eager faces, in which greed and pleasure and
+      impassibility were written. One face, however, had on it the dull red of
+      shame. Not until now did the full force of his intended dishonesty come
+      home to the Englishman; not until now did he realize the complete
+      degradation to which his uniform had lowered him. His had been the hand to
+      stay this misfortune, and he had not lifted it. This king had been his
+      father's friend; and he had taken up arms against him. O, he had begun
+      life badly; he was making the end still more dismal. Would this woman ever
+      be his? Her promises were not worth the air that had carried them to his
+      ear. He, the consort of a queen? A cold sweat dampened his forehead. How
+      he loved her! And that kiss.... Queen or not, he would not be her dupe,
+      his would not be a tame surrender.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From the Platz and the Park, where the two armies had bivouacked, came an
+      intermittent cheering. The flames of bonfires were reflected on the
+      windows, throwing out in dull, yellow relief the faces of Madame and her
+      staff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Between the private apartments of the king and the throne room was a wide
+      sliding door. Suddenly this opened and closed. With his back against it, a
+      pistol in one hand and a saber in the other, stood Captain von Mitter, his
+      face cold and resolute. All eyes were instantly directed toward him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Captain,&rdquo; said Madame, imperiously, &ldquo;summon to me Monseigneur the
+      archbishop!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her command fell on ears of stone. Von Mitter made no sign that he heard
+      her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take care, Monsieur,&rdquo; she warned; &ldquo;I am mistress here. If you will not
+      obey me, my officers will.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, I acknowledge no mistress save the daughter of the king. No one
+      shall pass this door to announce your presence to Monseigneur.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This reply was greeted with sundry noises, such as sabers coming from
+      scabbards, clicking of pistol locks, and the moving of feet. Madame put
+      out her hand suggestively, and the noise ceased. Von Mitter smiled
+      disdainfully, but did not stir.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I warn you, Madame,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that this is war. I accept all the
+      responsibilities of my position. I know nothing of any surrender or
+      victory. To me you are simply an enemy. I will kill any one who attempts
+      to pass. I should be pleased if General Kronau would make the first step
+      to question my sincerity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kronau's fingers twitched around his revolver, but Madame touched his arm.
+      She could read faces. The young Captain was in earnest. She would
+      temporize.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Captain, all here are prisoners of war,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Do not forget that
+      soon there will be benefits for those who serve me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He laughed rudely. &ldquo;I ask no benefits from your hands, Madame. I would
+      rather stand on the corner and beg.&rdquo; He sent an insolent, contemptuous
+      glance at Kronau, who could not support it. &ldquo;And now that you have
+      gratified your curiosity, I beg you to withdraw to the street. To-night
+      this palace is a tomb, and woe to those who commit sacrilege.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The king?&rdquo; she said, struck by a thought which caused a red spot to
+      appear on each cheek.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is dead. Go and leave us in peace.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The wine which had tasted so sweet was full of lees, and the cup wormwood.
+      Madame looked down, while her officers moved uneasily and glanced over
+      their shoulders. Kronau brushed his forehead, to find it wet. Madame
+      regretted the surrendering to the impulse. Her haste to triumph was
+      lacking both in dignity and judgment. She had given the king so little
+      place in her thoughts that the shock of his death confused her. And there
+      was something in the calm, fearless contempt of the young soldier which
+      embarrassed her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In that case, Captain,&rdquo; she said, her voice uncertain and constrained,
+      &ldquo;bid Monseigneur to wait on me at the Continental.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whenever that becomes convenient, Madame, Monseigneur will certainly
+      confer with you and your rascally pack of officers.&rdquo; He longed for some
+      one to spring at him; he longed to strike a blow in earnest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As he leaned against the door he felt it move. He stepped aside. The door
+      rolled back, and her Royal Highness, the archbishop and the chancellor
+      passed in. The princess's eyes were like dim stars, but her fine nostrils
+      palpitated, and her mouth was rigid in disdain. The chancellor looked
+      haggard and dispirited, and he eyed all with the listlessness of a man who
+      has given up hope. The prelate's face was as finely drawn as an ancient
+      cameo, and as immobile. He gazed at Madame with one of those looks which
+      penetrate like acid; and, brave as she was, she found it insupportable.
+      There was a tableau of short duration.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame,&rdquo; said her Royal Highness, with a noble scorn, &ldquo;what would you say
+      if one desecrated your father's tomb while you were kneeling beside it?
+      What would you say? In yonder room my father lies dead, and your presence
+      here, in whatever role, is an insult. Are you, indeed, a woman? Have you
+      no respect for death and sorrow? Was the bauble so precious to your sight
+      that you could not wait till the last rites were paid to the dead? Is your
+      heart of stone, your mind devoid of pity and of conscience? Are you
+      lacking in magnanimity, which is the disposition of great souls? Ah,
+      Madame, you will never be great, for you have stooped to treachery and
+      deceit. You, a princess! You have purchased with glittering promises that
+      which in time would have been given to you. And you will not fulfill these
+      promises, for honesty has no part in your affair. Shame on you, Madame. By
+      dishonorable means you have gained this room. By dishonorable means you
+      destroyed all those props on which my father leaned. You knew that he had
+      not long to live. Had you come to me as a woman; had you opened your heart
+      to me and confided your desires&mdash;Ah, Madame, how gladly would I have
+      listened. Whatever it signifies to you, this throne is nothing to me. Had
+      you come then&mdash;but, no! you must come to demand your rights when I am
+      defenseless. You must come with a sword when there is none to defend. Is
+      it possible that in our veins there runs a kindred blood? And yet, Madame,
+      I forgive you. Rule here, if you will; but remember, between you and your
+      crown there will always be the shadow of disgrace. Monsieur,&rdquo; turning
+      toward Fitzgerald, whose shame was so great that it engulfed him, &ldquo;your
+      father and mine were friends&mdash;I forgive you. Now, Madame, I pray you,
+      go, and leave me with my dead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The girlhood of Princess Alexia was gone forever.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To Madame this rebuke was like hot iron on the flesh. It left her without
+      answer. Her proud spirit writhed. Before those innocent eyes her soul lay
+      bare, offering to the gaze an ineffaceable scar. For the first time she
+      saw her schemes in their true light. Had any served her unselfishly? Aye,
+      there was one. And strangely enough, the first thought which formed in her
+      mind when chaos was passed, was of him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      How would this rebuke affect her in his eyes? What was he to her that she
+      cared for his respect, his opinion, good or bad? What was the meaning of
+      the secret dread? How she hated him for his honesty to her; for now
+      perforce she must look up to him. She had stepped down from the pinnacle
+      of her pride to which she might never again ascend. He had kissed her. How
+      she hated him! And yet... Ah, the wine was flat, tinctured with the
+      bitterness of gall, and her own greed had forced the cup to her lips. She
+      could not remain silent before this girl; she must reply; her shame was
+      too deep to resolve itself into silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mademoiselle,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I beg of you to accept my sympathies; but the
+      fortunes of war&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, Madame,&rdquo; interrupted the prelate, lifting his white, attenuated hand,
+      &ldquo;we will discuss the fortunes of war&mdash;later.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame choked back the sudden gust of rage. She glanced covertly at the
+      Englishman. But he, with wide-astonished eyes, was staring at the foot of
+      the throne, from which gradually rose a terrible figure, covered with
+      blood and caked with drying clay. The figure leaned heavily on the hilt of
+      a saber, and swayed unsteadily. He drew all eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ha!&rdquo; he said, with a prolonged, sardonic intonation, &ldquo;is that you, Madame
+      the duchess? You are talking of war? What! and you, my lord the
+      Englishman? Ha! and war? Look at me, Madame; I have been in a battle, the
+      only one fought to-day. Look at me! Here is the mark of that friend who
+      watched over your interests. But where is he? Eh? Where? Did you pick him
+      up on the way?.... He is dead. For all that he was a rascal, he died like
+      a man... .. as presently I shall die! Princes and kings and thrones; the
+      one die and the other crumble, but truth lives on. And you, Madame, have
+      learned the truth. Shame on your mean and little souls! There was only one
+      honest man among you, and you dishonored him. The Marshal... I do not see
+      him. An honest man dies but once, but a traitor dies a thousand deaths.
+      Kronau... is that your name? It was an honest one once. And the paltry
+      ends you gain!.... The grand duchess of Gerolstein!.... What a comic
+      opera! Not even music to go by! Eh, you,&mdash;you Englishman, has Madame
+      made you a Lieutenant?&mdash;a Captain?&mdash;a General? What a farce!
+      Nobles, you? I laugh at you all for a pack of thieves, who are not content
+      with the purse, but must add honor to the bag. A man is what he makes
+      himself. Medals and clothes, medals and clothes; that is the sum of your
+      nobility!&rdquo; He laughed, but the laughter choked in his throat, and he
+      staggered a few paces away from the throne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Seize him!&rdquo; cried Madame.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the men sprang forward to execute this command, Fitzgerald barred the
+      way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he said doggedly; &ldquo;you shall not touch him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stand aside, Monsieur,&rdquo; said Madame, determined to vent her rage on some
+      one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame,&rdquo; said von Mitter, &ldquo;I will shoot down the first man who lays a
+      hand on Monsieur Carewe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The princess, her heart beating wildly at the sudden knowledge that lay
+      written on the inner vision, a faintness stealing away her sight, leaned
+      back against the prelate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is dying,&rdquo; she whispered; &ldquo;he is dying for me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Maurice was now in the grasp of the final delirium. &ldquo;Come on!&rdquo; he cried;
+      &ldquo;come on! I will show you how a brave man can die. Come on, Messieurs
+      Medals and Clothes! Aye, who will go out with me?&rdquo; He raised the saber,
+      and it caught the flickering light as it trailed a circle above his head.
+      He stumbled toward them, sweeping the air with the blade. Suddenly there
+      came a change. He stopped. The wild expression faded from his face; a
+      surprised look came instead. The saber slipped from his fingers and
+      clanged on the floor. He turned and looked at the princess, and that
+      glance conveyed to her the burden of his love. &ldquo;Mademoiselle....&rdquo; His
+      knees doubled, he sank, rolled face downward, and a dark stain appeared
+      and widened on the marble floor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go, Madame,&rdquo; said the prelate. &ldquo;This palace is indeed a tomb.&rdquo; He felt
+      the princess grow limp on his arm. &ldquo;Go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maurice!&rdquo; cried Fitzgerald, springing to the side of the fallen man. &ldquo;My
+      God! Maurice!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVIII. INTO THE HANDS OF AUSTRIA
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Madame, surrounded by her staff and courtiers, sat in the main salon of
+      the Continental Hotel, waiting for the archbishop. The false, self-seeking
+      ministers of Leopold's reign crowded around her to pay their respects, to
+      compliment and to flatter her. Already they saw a brilliant court; already
+      they were speculating on their appointments. Offices were plenty; new
+      embassies were to be created, old embassies to be filled anew.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame listened to all coldly. There was a canker in her heart, and no one
+      who saw that calm, beautiful face of hers dreamed how deeply the canker
+      was eating. There were two men who held aloof from compliments and
+      flattery. On the face of one rested a moody scowl; on the other, agony and
+      remorse. These two men were Colonel Mollendorf and Lord Fitzgerald. The
+      same thought occupied each mind; the scene in the throne room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Presently an orderly announced: &ldquo;Monseigneur the archbishop.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame arose, and all looked expectantly, toward the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The old prelate entered, his head high and his step firm. He appeared to
+      see no one but Madame. But this time she met his glance without a tremor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monseigneur,&rdquo; she began, &ldquo;I have come into my own at last. But for you
+      and your ambitious schemes, all this would not have come to pass. You
+      robbed my father of his throne and set your puppet there instead. By
+      trickery my father was robbed of his lawful inheritance. By trickery I was
+      compelled to regain it. However, I do not wish to make an enemy of you,
+      Monseigneur. I have here two letters. They come from Rome. In one is your
+      recall, in the other a cardinal's hat. Which do you prefer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Surely not the cardinal's hat,&rdquo; said the prelate. &ldquo;Listen to me, Madame,
+      for I have something to say to you which will cause you some reflection.
+      If I had any ambitions, they are gone; if I had any dreams, they have
+      vanished. Madame, some twenty years ago your duchy was created. It was not
+      done to please Albrecht's younger brother, the duke, your father. Albrecht
+      was childless. When your father was given the duchy it was done to exclude
+      forever the house of Auersperg from reigning on this throne. You say that
+      you were tricked; well, and so was I. Unhappily I touched the deeper
+      current too late.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This poor king, who lies silent in the palace, was not my puppet. I
+      wished to make him great, and bask in his greatness. But in that I failed;
+      because Leopold was a poet and a philosopher, and the greatness of earthly
+      things did not concern him. Leopold and I were dupes of Austria, as you
+      are at this moment, Madame. So long as Leopold reigned peacefully he was
+      not to be disturbed. Had you shown patience and resignation, doubtless
+      to-day you would be a queen. You will never be more than a duchess.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, you have done exactly as Austria intended you should. There is no
+      longer any kingdom.&rdquo; There was a subdued triumph in his eyes. &ldquo;To you,&rdquo;
+       with a gesture toward the courtiers and office-seekers, &ldquo;to you I shall
+      say, your own blind self-interest has destroyed you. Madame, you are
+      bearing arms not against this kingdom, but against Austria, since from
+      to-day this land becomes the property of the imperial crown. If you
+      struggle, it will be futilely. For, by this move of yours, Austria will
+      declare that this kingdom is a menace to the tranquility of the
+      confederation. Madame, there is no corner-stone to your edifice. This is
+      what I wished to say to you. I have done. Permit me to withdraw.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment his auditors were spellbound; then all the emotions of the
+      mind and heart portrayed themselves on the circle of faces. Madame's face
+      alone was inscrutable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His Excellency, the Austrian ambassador!&rdquo; announced the orderly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The archbishop bowed and left the apartment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Highness,&rdquo; began the Austrian, &ldquo;his Imperial Majesty commands your
+      immediate evacuation of Bleiberg, and that you delay not your departure to
+      the frontier. This kingdom is a crown land. It shall remain so by the
+      consent of the confederation. If you refuse to obey this injunction, an
+      army will enforce the order. Believe me, Madame, this office is
+      distasteful to me, but it was not avoidable. What disposition am I to
+      submit to his Majesty?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I am without choice in the matter. To pit my forces
+      against the emperor's would be neither politic nor sensible. I submit.&rdquo;
+       There was not a sign of any emotion, no hint of the terrible wrath which
+      lay below the surface of those politely modulated tones. But it seemed to
+      her as she stood there, the object of all eyes, that some part of her soul
+      had died. Her pride surmounted the humiliation, the pride of a woman and a
+      princess. She would show no weakness to the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then, Madame,&rdquo; said the ambassador, suppressing the admiration in his
+      eyes at this evidence of royal nonchalance, &ldquo;I shall inform his Majesty at
+      once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When he had gone, Madame turned coldly to her stricken followers.
+      &ldquo;Messieurs, the fortunes of war are not on our side. I thank you for your
+      services. Now leave me; I wish to be alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      One by one they filed out into the corridors. The orderly was the last to
+      leave, and he closed the door behind him. Madame surveyed the room. All
+      the curtains were drawn. She was alone. She stood idly fingering the
+      papers which lay scattered on the table. Suddenly she lifted her hands
+      above her head and clenched them in a burst of silent rage. A dupe! doubly
+      a dupe! To-morrow the whole world would laugh at her, and she was without
+      means of wreaking vengeance. Presently the woman rose above the princess.
+      She sat down, laid her face on her arms and wept.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitzgerald stepped from behind one of the curtains. He had taken refuge
+      there during the archbishop's speech. He had not the strength to witness
+      the final humiliation of the woman he loved. He was gazing out of the
+      window at the troops in the Platz when the door closed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Madame heard the rustle of the curtain and looked up. She sprang to her
+      feet, her eyes blazing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You?&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;You? You have dared to hide that you might witness my
+      weakness and my tears? You....&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go! I hate you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, Madame, we always hate those whom we have wronged. Do not forget that
+      I love you, with a love that passes convention.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur, I am yet a princess. Did you not hear me bid you go?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo; in a voice singularly free from agitation. &ldquo;Because I am the only
+      man who has served you unselfishly? Is that the reason, Madame? You have
+      laughed at me. I love you. You have broken me. I love you. I can never
+      look an honest man in the face again. I love you. Though the shade of my
+      father should rise to accuse me, still would I say that I love you.
+      Madame, will you find another love like mine, the first love of a man who
+      will know no second? Forgive me if I rejoice in your despair, for your
+      despair is my hope. As a queen you would be too far away; but in your
+      misfortune you come so near! Madame, I shall follow you wherever you go to
+      tell you that I love you. You will never be able to shut your ears to my
+      voice; far or near, you will always hear me saying that I love you.
+      Ambition soars but a little way; love has no fetters. Madame, your lips
+      were given to me. Can you forget that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur, what do you wish?&rdquo; subdued by the fervor of his tones.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You! nothing in the world but you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Princesses such as I am do not wed for love. What! you take advantage of
+      my misfortune, the shattering of my dreams, to force your love upon me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame,&rdquo; the pride of his race lighting his eyes, &ldquo;confess to me that you
+      did not win my love to play with it. If my heart was necessary to your
+      happiness, which lay in these shattered dreams, tell me, and I will go. My
+      love is so great that it does not lack generosity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For reply she sorted the papers and extended a blood-stained packet toward
+      him. &ldquo;Here, Monsieur, are your consols.&rdquo; But the moment his hand touched
+      them, she made as though to take them back. On the top of the packet was
+      the letter she had written to him, and on which he had written his
+      scornful reply to her. She paled as she saw him unfold it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So, Madame, my love was a pastime?&rdquo; He came close to her, and his look
+      was like an invisible hand bearing down on her. &ldquo;Madame, I will go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no!&rdquo; she cried, yielding to the impulse which suddenly laid hold of
+      her. &ldquo;Not you! You shall not misjudge me. No, not you! Those consols were
+      given to me by the woman of your guide, Kopf, who found them no one knows
+      how. They were given to me this morning. That letter..... I did not intend
+      that you should see it. No, Monsieur; you shall not misjudge the woman,
+      however you judge the princess. Forgive me, it was not the woman who
+      sought your love; it was the princess who had need of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought it would be but a passing fancy. I did not dream of this end.
+      To-morrow I shall be laughed at, and I cannot defend myself as a man can.
+      I must submit; I must smile and cover my chagrin. O, Monsieur, do not
+      speak to me of love; there is nothing in my heart but rage and bitterness.
+      To stoop as I have stooped, and in vain! I am defeated; I must remain
+      passive; like a whipped child I am driven away. Talk not of love to me. I
+      am without illusion.&rdquo; She fell to weeping, and to him she was lovelier in
+      her tears than ever in her smiles. For would she have shown this weakness
+      to any but himself, and was it not a sign that he was not wholly
+      indifferent to her?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame, what is it?&rdquo; he cried, on his knees before her. &ldquo;What is it? Do
+      you wish a crown? Find me a kingdom, and I will buy it for you. Be mine,
+      and woe to those who dare to laugh! Ah, could I but convince you that love
+      is above crowns and kingdoms, the only glimpse we have on earth of
+      Paradise. There is no boundary to the dreams; no horizons; a vast,
+      beautiful wilderness, and you and I together. There are no storms, no
+      clouds. Ambition, the god of schemes, finds no entrance. Ah, how I love
+      you! Your face is ever before me, waking or sleeping. All thoughts are
+      merged into one, and that is of you. Self has dropped out of my existence.
+      Forget that you are a princess; remember only that you are a woman, and
+      that I love you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Love has the key to eloquence. Madame forgot her vanished dreams; the
+      bitterness in her heart subsided. That mysterious, indefinable thrill,
+      which every woman experiences when a boundless love is laid at her feet,
+      passed through her, leaving her sensible to a delicious languor. This man
+      was strong in himself, yet weak before her, and from his weakness she
+      gained a visible strength. Convention was nothing to him; that she was of
+      royal blood was still less. What other man would have dared her wrath as
+      he had done?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nobility, she thought, was based on the observance of certain laws. Around
+      the central star were lesser stars, from which the central star drew its
+      radiance. Whenever one of these stars deviates from its orbit, the glory
+      of the central star is diminished. To accept the love of the Englishman
+      would be a blow to the pride of Austria. She smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; she said, in a hesitating voice, &ldquo;Monsieur, I am indeed a
+      woman. You ask me if I can forget that I offered you my lips? No. Nor do I
+      wish to. Why did I permit you to kiss me? I do not know. I could not
+      analyze the impulse if I tried. Monsieur, I am a woman who demands much
+      from those who serve her. I am capricious; my moods vary; I am unfamiliar
+      with sentiment; I hate oftener than I love. Listen. There is a canker in
+      my heart, made there by vanity. When it heals&mdash;well&mdash;mayhap you
+      will find the woman you desire. Mind you, I make no promises. Follow me,
+      if you will, but have patience; love me if you must, but in silence;&rdquo; and
+      with a gesture which was not without a certain fondness, she laid her hand
+      upon his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIX. INTO STILL WATERS AND SILENCE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Into the princess's own chamber they carried Maurice, and laid him on the
+      white bed. Thus would she have it. No young man had ever before entered
+      that sacred chapel of her maiden dreams. Beside the bed was a small
+      prie-dieu; and she knelt upon the cushion and rested her brow against the
+      crucifix. The archbishop covered his eyes, and the state physician bent
+      his head. Chastity and innocence at the feet of God; yet, not even these
+      can hold back the fleeting breath of life. She asked God to forgive her
+      the bitterness in her heart; she prayed for strength to repel the weakness
+      in her limbs. Presently she rose, an angelic sweetness on her face. She
+      looked down at Maurice; there was no sign of life, save in the fitful
+      drawing in of the nether lip. She dampened a cloth and wiped the sweat of
+      agony from the marble brow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O, if only he might live!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;And he will not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, your Highness,&rdquo; said the physician. &ldquo;He has perhaps an hour.
+      Extraordinary vitality alone is the cause of his living so long. He has
+      lost nearly all the blood in his body. It was a frightful wound. He is
+      dying, but he may return to consciousness before the end.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The archbishop, with somber eyes, contemplated the pale, handsome face,
+      which lay motionless against the pillow. His thoughts flew back to his own
+      youth, to the long years which had filled the gap between. Friends had
+      come and gone, loved ones vanished; and still he stood, like an oak in the
+      heart of a devastated forest, alone. Why had he been spared, and to what
+      end? Ah, how old he was, how very old! To live beyond the allotted time,
+      was not that a punishment for some transgression? His eyes shone through a
+      mist of tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The princess, too, contemplated the face of the dying man. How many times
+      had that face accompanied her in her dreams! How familiar she was with
+      every line of it, the lips, that turned inward when they smiled; the
+      certain lock of hair that fell upon the forehead! And yet, she had seen
+      the face in reality less than half a dozen times. Why had it entered so
+      persistently into her dreams? Why had the flush risen to her cheeks at the
+      thought? At another time she would have refused to listen to the voice
+      which answered; but now, as the object of her thoughts lay dying on her
+      pillow, her mind would not play truant to her heart. Sometimes the
+      approach of love is so imperceptible that it does not provoke analysis. We
+      wake suddenly to find it in our hearts, so strong and splendid that we
+      submit without question.... All, all her dreams had vanished, the latest
+      and the fairest. Across the azure of her youth had come and gone a vague,
+      beautiful flash of love. The door of earthly paradise had opened and
+      closed. That delicate string which vibrates with the joy of living seemed
+      parted; her heart was broken, and her young breast a tomb. With straining
+      eyes she continued to gaze. The invisible arms of her love clasped Maurice
+      to her heart and held him there. Only that day he had stood before her, a
+      delight to the eye; and she had given him her hand to kiss. How bravely he
+      had gone forth from the city! She had followed him with her ardent gaze
+      until he was no longer to be seen. And now he lay dying.... for her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; she said, turning to the physician, &ldquo;I have something to say
+      to Monseigneur.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The physician bowed and passed into the boudoir, the door of which he
+      closed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Father,&rdquo; she said to the prelate, &ldquo;I have no secrets from you.&rdquo; She
+      pointed to Maurice. &ldquo;I love him. I know not why. He comes from a foreign
+      land; his language nor his people are mine, and yet the thought of him has
+      filled my soul. I have talked to him but four different times; and yet I
+      love him. Why? I can not tell. The mind has no power to rule the impulse
+      of love. Were he to live, perhaps my love would be a sin. Is it not
+      strange, father, that I love him? I have lost parental love; I am losing a
+      love a woman holds priceless above all others. He is dying because of me.
+      He loves me. I read it in his eyes just before he fell. Perhaps it is
+      better for him and for me that he should die, for if he lived I could not
+      live without him. Father, do I sin?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, my child,&rdquo; and the prelate closed his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have been so lonely,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;so alone. I craved the love of the
+      young. He was so different from any man I had met before. His bright,
+      handsome face seemed constantly with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this moment Maurice's breast rose and fell in a long sigh. Presently
+      the lids of his eyes rolled upward. Consciousness had returned. His
+      wandering gaze first encountered the sad, austere visage of the prelate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monseigneur?&rdquo; he said, faintly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you wish absolution, my son?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am dying...?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am dying.... God has my account and he will judge it. I am not a
+      Catholic, Monseigneur.&rdquo; He turned his head. &ldquo;Your Highness?&rdquo; He roved
+      about the room with his eyes and discerned the feminine touch in all the
+      appointments.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where am I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are in my room, Monsieur,&rdquo; she said. Her voice broke, but she met his
+      eyes with a brave smile. &ldquo;Is there anything we can do for you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing. I am alone. To die.... Well, one time or another. And yet, it is
+      a beautiful world, when we but learn it, full of color and life and love.
+      I am young; I do not wish to die. And now... even in the midst... to go...
+      where? Monseigneur, I am dying; to me princes and kings signify nothing.
+      That is not to say that they ever did. In the presence of death we are all
+      equal. Living, I might not speak; dying... since I have but a little while
+      to stay... I may speak?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, my son, speak. Her Highness will listen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is to her Highness that I wish to speak.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her lips quivered and she made no secret of her tears. &ldquo;What is it you
+      wish to say to me, Monsieur Carewe?&rdquo; She smoothed his forehead, and the
+      touch of her hand made him forget his pain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, I know not how to begin,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Forgive me if I offend your
+      ears.... I have been foolish even to dream of it, but I could not help
+      it.... When first I saw you in the garden.. the old dog was beside you....
+      Even then it came to me that my future was linked to the thought of you. I
+      did not know you were so far beyond.... I was very cold, but I dared not
+      let you know it, for fear you would lead me at once to the gate. That
+      night wherever I looked I saw you. I strove to think of some way to serve
+      you, but I could not. I was so obscure. I never thought that you would
+      remember me again; but you did... That afternoon in the carriage... I
+      wanted to tell you then. That rose you dropped... it is still on my heart.
+      I loved you, and to this end. And I am glad to die, for in this short
+      fortnight I have lived.... My mother used to call me Maurice ... to hear a
+      woman repeat it again before I go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maurice.&rdquo; She took his hand timidly in hers, and looked at the
+      archbishop.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Speak to him from your heart, my child,&rdquo; said the prelate. &ldquo;It will
+      comfort you both.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly she drooped and the tears fell upon the hand in hers. &ldquo;Maurice,&rdquo;
+       she whispered, &ldquo;you have not loved in vain.&rdquo; She could utter no more; but
+      she raised her head and looked into his eyes, and he saw the glory of the
+      world in hers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Into still waters and silence,&rdquo; he said softly. &ldquo;No more pain, nor joy,
+      nor love; silence.... You love me!... Alexia; how often have I repeated
+      that name to myself.... I have not strength to lift your hand to my lips.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She kissed him on the lips. She felt as if she, too, were dying.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God guard your Highness,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It is dark.... I do not see you....&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He tried to raise himself, but he could not. He sank back, settled deeply
+      into the pillow, and smiled. After that he lay very still.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+
+
+
+
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+</pre>
+  </body>
+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Puppet Crown, by Harold MacGrath
+
+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 Puppet Crown
+
+Author: Harold MacGrath
+
+Posting Date: February 21, 2009 [EBook #3239]
+Release Date: May, 2002
+Last Updated: July  13, 2016
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PUPPET CROWN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Franks and the Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+
+
+THE PUPPET CROWN
+
+by Harold MacGrath
+
+
+
+
+     TO THE MEMORY OF THAT GOOD FRIEND
+                    AND
+            COMRADE OF MY YOUTH
+                 MY FATHER
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+     I. THE SCEPTER WHICH WAS A STICK
+    II. THE COUP D'ETAT OF COUSIN JOSEF
+   III. AN EPISODE TEN YEARS AFTER
+    IV. AN ADVENTURE WITH ROYALTY
+     V. BEHIND THE PUPPET BOOTH
+    VI. MADEMOISELLE OF THE VEIL
+   VII. SOME DIALOGUE, AN SPRAINED ANKLE, AND SOME SOLDIERS
+  VIII. THE RED CHATEAU
+    IX. NOTHING MORE SERIOUS THAN A HOUSE PARTY
+     X. BEING OF LONG RIDES, MAIDS, KISSES AND MESSAGES
+    XI. THE DENOUEMENT
+   XII. WHOM THE GODS DESTROY AND A FEW OTHERS
+  XIII. BEING OF COMPLICATIONS NOT RECKONED ON
+   XIV. QUI M'AIME, AIME MON CHIEN
+    XV. IN WHICH FORTUNE BECOMES CARELESS AND PRODIGAL
+   XVI. WHAT HAPPENED AT THE ARCHBISHOP'S PLACE AND AFTER
+  XVII. SOME PASSAGES AT ARMS
+ XVIII. A MINOR CHORD AND A CHANGE OF MOVEMENT
+   XIX. A CHANCE RIDE IN THE NIGHT
+    XX. THE LAST STAND OF A BAD SERVANT
+   XXI. A COURT FETE AT THE RED CHATEAU
+  XXII. IN WHICH MAURICE RECURS TO OFFENBACH
+ XXIII. A GAME OF POKER AND THE STAKES
+  XXIV. THE PRISONER OF THE RED CHATEAU
+   XXV. THE FORTUNES OF WAR
+  XXVI. A PAGE FORM TASSO
+ XXVII. WORMWOOD AND LEES
+XXVIII. INTO THE HANDS OF AUSTRIA  XXIX. INTO STILL WATERS AND SILENCE
+
+
+
+     Ah Love! Could you and I with Him conspire
+     To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire
+       Would not we shatter it to bits--and then
+     Re-mold it nearer to the Heart's desire!
+
+                    --Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. THE SCEPTER WHICH WAS A STICK
+
+The king sat in his private garden in the shade of a potted orange tree,
+the leaves of which were splashed with brilliant yellow. It was high
+noon of one of those last warm sighs of passing summer which now and
+then lovingly steal in between the chill breaths of September. The
+velvet hush of the mid-day hour had fallen.
+
+There was an endless horizon of turquoise blue, a zenith pellucid as
+glass. The trees stood motionless; not a shadow stirred, save that which
+was cast by the tremulous wings of a black and purple butterfly, which,
+near to his Majesty, fell, rose and sank again. From a drove of wild
+bees, swimming hither and thither in quest of the final sweets of the
+year, came a low murmurous hum, such as a man sometimes fancies he hears
+while standing alone in the vast auditorium of a cathedral.
+
+The king, from where he sat, could see the ivy-clad towers of the
+archbishop's palace, where, in and about the narrow windows, gray and
+white doves fluttered and plumed themselves. The garden sloped gently
+downward till it merged into a beautiful lake called the Werter See,
+which, stretching out several miles to the west, in the heart of the
+thick-wooded hills, trembled like a thin sheet of silver.
+
+Toward the south, far away, lay the dim, uneven blue line of the Thalian
+Alps, which separated the kingdom that was from the duchy that is, and
+the duke from his desires. More than once the king leveled his gaze
+in that direction, as if to fathom what lay behind those lordly rugged
+hills.
+
+There was in the air the delicate odor of the deciduous leaves which,
+every little while, the king inhaled, his eyes half-closed and his
+nostrils distended. Save for these brief moments, however, there rested
+on his countenance an expression of disenchantment which came of
+the knowledge of a part ill-played, an expression which described a
+consciousness of his unfitness and inutility, of lethargy and weariness
+and distaste.
+
+To be weary is the lot of kings, it is a part of their royal
+prerogative; but it is only a great king who can be weary gracefully.
+And Leopold was not a great king; indeed, he was many inches short of
+the ideal; but he was philosophical, and by the process of reason he
+escaped the pitfalls which lurk in the path of peevishness.
+
+To know the smallness of the human atom, the limit of desire, the
+existence of other lives as precious as their own, is not the philosophy
+which makes great kings. Philosophy engenders pity; and one who
+possesses that can not ride roughshod over men, and that is the business
+of kings.
+
+As for Leopold, he would rather have wandered the byways of Kant than
+studied royal etiquette. A crown had been thrust on his head and a
+scepter into his hand, and, willy-nilly, he must wear the one and wield
+the other. The confederation had determined the matter shortly before
+the Franco-Prussian war.
+
+The kingdom that was, an admixture of old France and newer Austria, was
+a gateway which opened the road to the Orient, and a gateman must be
+placed there who would be obedient to the will of the great travelers,
+were they minded to pass that way. That is to say, the confederation
+wanted a puppet, and in Leopold they found a dreamer, which served as
+well. That glittering bait, a crown, had lured him from his peaceful
+Osian hills and valleys, and now he found that his crown was of straw
+and his scepter a stick.
+
+He longed to turn back, for his heart lay in a tomb close to his castle
+keep, but the way back was closed. He had sold his birthright. So he
+permitted his ministers to rule his kingdom how they would, and gave
+himself up to dreams. He had been but a cousin of the late king, whereas
+the duke of the duchy that is had been a brother. But cousin Josef
+was possessed of red hair and a temper which was redder still, and,
+moreover, a superlative will, bending to none, and laughing at those who
+tried to bend him.
+
+He would have been a king to the tip of his fiery hair; and it was for
+this very reason that his subsequent appeals for justice and his rights
+fell on unheeding ears. The confederation feared Josef; therefore they
+dispossessed him. Thus Leopold sat on the throne, while his Highness bit
+his nails and swore, impotent to all appearances.
+
+Leopold leaned forward from his seat. In his hand he held a riding stick
+with which he drew shapeless pictures in the yellow gravel of the path.
+His brows were drawn over contemplative eyes, and the hint of a sour
+smile lifted the corners of his lips. Presently the brows relaxed, and
+his gaze traveled to the opposite side of the path, where the British
+minister sat in the full glare of the sun.
+
+In the middle of the path, as rigid as a block of white marble, reposed
+a young bulldog, his moist black nose quivering under the repeated
+attacks of a persistent insect. It occurred to the king that there was
+a resemblance between the dog and his master, the Englishman. The same
+heavy jaws were there, the same fearless eyes, the same indomitable
+courage for the prosecution of a purpose.
+
+A momentary regret passed through him that he had not been turned from
+a like mold. Next his gaze shifted to the end of the path, where a
+young Lieutenant stood idly kicking pebbles, his cuirass flaming in the
+dazzling sunshine. Soon the drawing in the gravel was resumed.
+
+The British minister made little of the three-score years which were
+closing in on him, after the manner of an army besieging a citadel. He
+was full of animal exuberance, and his eyes, a trifle faded, it must
+be admitted, were still keenly alive and observant. He was big of
+bone, florid of skin, and his hair--what remained of it--was wiry and
+bleached. His clothes, possibly cut from an old measure, hung loosely
+about the girth--a sign that time had taken its tithe. For thirty-five
+years he had served his country by cunning speeches and bursts of fine
+oratory; he had wandered over the globe, lulling suspicions here and
+arousing them there, a prince of the art of diplomacy.
+
+He had not been sent here to watch this kingdom. He was touching a
+deeper undercurrent, which began at St. Petersburg and moved toward
+Central Asia, Turkey and India, sullenly and irresistibly. And now his
+task was done, and another was to take his place, to be a puppet among
+puppets. He feared no man save his valet, who knew his one weakness, the
+love of a son on whom he had shut his door, which pride forbade him to
+open. This son had chosen the army, when a fine diplomatic career had
+been planned--a small thing, but it sufficed. Even now a word from an
+humbled pride would have reunited father and son, but both refused to
+speak this word.
+
+The diplomat in turn watched the king as he engaged in the aimless
+drawing. His meditation grew retrospective, and his thoughts ran back
+to the days when he first befriended this lonely prince, who had come to
+England to learn the language and manners of the chill islanders. He had
+been handsome enough in those days, this Leopold of Osia, gay and eager,
+possessing an indefinable charm which endeared him to women and made him
+respected of men. To have known him then, the wildest stretch of
+fancy would never have placed him on this puppet throne, surrounded
+by enemies, menaced by his adopted people, rudderless and ignorant of
+statecraft.
+
+"Fate is the cup," the diplomat mused, "and the human life the ball,
+and it's toss, toss, toss, till the ball slips and falls into eternity."
+Aloud he said, "Your Majesty seems to be well occupied."
+
+"Yes," replied the king, smiling. "I am making crowns and scratching
+them out again--usurping the gentle pastime of their most Christian
+Majesties, the confederation. A pretty bauble is a crown, indeed--at a
+distance. It is a fine thing to wear one--in a dream. But to possess one
+in the real, and to wear it day by day with the eternal fear of laying
+it down and forgetting where you put it, or that others plot to steal
+it, or that you wear it dishonestly--Well, well, there are worse things
+than a beggar's crust."
+
+"No one is honest in this world, save the brute," said the diplomat,
+touching the dog with his foot. "Honesty is instinctive with him, for
+he knows no written laws. The gold we use is stamped with dishonesty,
+notwithstanding the beautiful mottoes; and so long as we barter and
+sell for it, just so long we remain dishonest. Yes, you wear your crown
+dishonestly but lawfully, which is a nice distinction. But is any crown
+worn honestly? If it is not bought with gold, it is bought with lies
+and blood. Sire, your great fault, if I may speak, is that you haven't
+continued to be dishonest. You should have filled your private coffers,
+but you have not done so, which is a strange precedent to establish. You
+should have increased taxation, but you have diminished it; you should
+have forced your enemy's hand four years ago, when you ascended the
+throne, but you did not; and now, for all you know, his hand may be
+too strong. Poor, dishonest king! When you accepted this throne, which
+belongs to another, you fell as far as possible from moral ethics.
+And now you would be honest and be called dull, and dream, while your
+ministers profit and smile behind your back. I beg your Majesty's
+pardon, but you have always requested that I should speak plainly."
+
+The king laughed; he enjoyed this frank friend. There was an essence of
+truth and sincerity in all he said that encouraged confidence.
+
+"Indeed, I shall be sorry to have you go tomorrow," he said, "for I
+believe if you stayed here long enough you would truly make a king of
+me. Be frank, my friend, be always frank; for it is only on the base of
+frankness that true friendship can rear itself."
+
+"You are only forty-eight," said the Englishman; "you are young."
+
+"Ah, my friend," replied the king with a tinge of sadness, "it is not
+the years that age us; it is how we live them. In the last four years I
+have lived ten. To-day I feel so very old! I am weary of being a king.
+I am weary of being weary, and for such there is no remedy. Truly I was
+not cut from the pattern of kings; no, no. I am handier with a book than
+with a scepter; I'd liever be a man than a puppet, and a puppet I am--a
+figurehead on the prow of the ship, but I do not guide it. Who care for
+me save those who have their ends to gain? None, save the archbishop,
+who yet dreams of making a king of me. And these are not my people who
+surround me; when I die, small care. I shall have left in the passing
+scarce a finger mark in the dust of time."
+
+"Ah, Sire, if only you would be cold, unfriendly, avaricious. Be stone
+and rule with a rod of iron. Make the people fear you, since they refuse
+to love you; be stone."
+
+"You can mold lead, but you can not sculpture it; and I am lead."
+
+"Yes; not only the metal, but the verb intransitive. Ah, could the fires
+of ambition light your soul!"
+
+"My soul is a blackened grate of burnt-out fires, of which only a coal
+remains."
+
+And the king turned in his seat and looked across the crisp green
+lawns to the beds of flowers, where, followed by a maid at a respectful
+distance, a slim young girl in white was cutting the hardy geraniums,
+dahlias and seed poppies.
+
+"God knows what her legacy will be!"
+
+"It is for you to make it, Sire."
+
+Both men continued to remark the girl. At length she came toward
+them, her arms laden with flowers. She was at the age of ten, with a
+beautiful, serious face, which some might have called prophetic.
+Her hair was dark, shining like coal and purple, and gossamer in its
+fineness; her skin had the blue-whiteness of milk; while from under long
+black lashes two luminous brown eyes looked thoughtfully at the world.
+She smiled at the king, who eyed her fondly, and gave her unengaged hand
+to the Englishman, who kissed it.
+
+"And how is your Royal Highness this fine day? he asked, patting the
+hand before letting it go.
+
+"Will you have a dahlia, Monsieur?" With a grave air she selected a
+flower and slipped it through his button-hole.
+
+"Does your Highness know the language of the flowers?" the Englishman
+asked.
+
+"Dahlias signify dignity and elegance; you are dignified, Monsieur, and
+dignity is elegance."
+
+"Well!" cried the Englishman, smiling with pleasure; "that is turned as
+adroitly as a woman of thirty."
+
+"And am I not to have one?" asked the king, his eyes full of paternal
+love and pride.
+
+"They are for your Majesty's table," she answered.
+
+"Your Majesty!" cried the king in mimic despair. "Was ever a father
+treated thus? Your Majesty! Do you not know, my dear, that to me
+'father' is the grandest title in the world?"
+
+Suddenly she crossed over and kissed the king on the cheek, and he held
+her to him for a moment.
+
+The bulldog had risen, and was wagging his tail the best he knew how. If
+there was any young woman who could claim his unreserved admiration,
+it was the Princess Alexia. She never talked nonsense to him in their
+rambles together, but treated him as he should be treated, as an animal
+of enlightenment.
+
+"And here is Bull," said the princess, tickling the dog's nose with a
+scarlet geranium.
+
+"Your Highness thinks a deal of Bull?" said the dog's master.
+
+"Yes, Monsieur, he doesn't bark, and he seems to understand all I say to
+him."
+
+The dog looked up at his master as if to say: "There now, what do you
+think of that?"
+
+"To-morrow I am going away," said the diplomat, "and as I can not very
+well take Bull with me, I give him to you."
+
+The girl's eyes sparkled. "Thank you, Monsieur, shall I take him now?"
+
+"No, but when I leave your father. You see, he was sent to me by my son
+who is in India. I wish to keep him near me as long as possible. My son,
+your Highness, was a bad fellow. He ran away and joined the army against
+my wishes, and somehow we have never got together again. Still, I've
+a sneaking regard for him, and I believe he hasn't lost all his filial
+devotion. Bull is, in a way, a connecting link."
+
+The king turned again to the gravel pictures. These Englishmen were
+beyond him in the matter of analysis. Her Royal Highness smiled vaguely,
+and wondered what this son was like. Once more she smiled, then moved
+away toward the palace. The dog, seeing that she did not beckon, lay
+down again. An interval of silence followed her departure. The thought
+of the Englishman had traveled to India, the thought of the king to
+Osia, where the girl's mother slept. The former was first to rouse.
+
+"Well, Sire, let us come to the business at hand, the subject of my last
+informal audience. It is true, then, that the consols for the loan
+of five millions of crowns are issued to-day, or have been, since the
+morning is passed?"
+
+"Yes, it is true. I am well pleased. Jacobi and Brother have agreed to
+place them at face value. I intend to lay out a park for the public at
+the foot of the lake. That will demolish two millions and a half. The
+remainder is to be used in city improvements and the reconstruction of
+the apartments in the palace, which are too small. If only you knew what
+a pleasure this affords me! I wish to make my good city of Bleiberg a
+thing of beauty--parks, fountains, broad and well paved streets."
+
+"The Diet was unanimous in regard to this loan?"
+
+"In fact they suggested it, and I was much in favor."
+
+"You have many friends there, then?"
+
+"Friends?" The king's face grew puzzled, and its animation faded away.
+"None that I know. This is positively the first time we ever agreed
+about anything."
+
+"And did not that strike you as rather singular?"
+
+"Why, no."
+
+"Of course, the people are enthusiastic, considering the old rate of
+taxation will be renewed?" The diplomat reached over and pulled the
+dog's ears.
+
+"So far as I can see," answered the king, who could make nothing of this
+interrogatory.
+
+"Which, if your Majesty will pardon me, is not very far beyond your
+books."
+
+"I have ministers."
+
+"Who can see farther than your Majesty has any idea."
+
+"Come, come, my friend," cried the king good-naturedly; "but a moment
+gone you were chiding me because I did nothing. I may not fill my
+coffers as you suggested, but I shall please my eye, which is something.
+Come; you have something to tell me."
+
+"Will your Majesty listen?"
+
+"I promise."
+
+"And to hear?"
+
+"I promise not only to listen, but to hear," laughing; "not only to
+hear, but to think. Is that sufficient?"
+
+"For three years," began the Englishman, "I have been England's
+representative here. As a representative I could not meddle with
+your affairs, though it was possible to observe them. To-day I am an
+unfettered agent of self, and with your permission I shall talk to you
+as I have never talked before and never shall again."
+
+The diplomat rose from his seat and walked up and down the path, his
+hands clasped behind his back, his chin in his collar. The bulldog
+yawned, stretched himself, and followed his master, soberly and
+thoughtfully. After a while the Englishman returned to his chair and sat
+down. The dog gravely imitated him. He understood, perhaps better than
+the king, his master's mood. This pacing backward and forward was always
+the forerunner of something of great importance.
+
+During the past year he had been the repository of many a secret. Well,
+he knew how to keep one. Did not he carry a secret which his master
+would have given much to know? Some one in far away India, after putting
+him into the ship steward's care, had whispered: "You tell the governor
+that I think just as much of him as ever." He had made a desperate
+effort to tell it the moment he was liberated from the box, but he
+had not yet mastered that particular language which characterized his
+master's race.
+
+"To begin with," said the diplomat, "what would your Majesty say if I
+should ask permission to purchase the entire loan?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. THE COUP D'ETAT OF COUSIN JOSEF
+
+The king, who had been leaning forward, fell back heavily in his seat,
+his eyes full wide and his mouth agape. Then, to express his utter
+bewilderment, he raised his hands above his head and limply dropped
+them.
+
+"Five millions of crowns?" he gasped.
+
+"Yes; what would your Majesty say to such a proposition?" complacently.
+
+"I should say," answered the king, with a nervous laugh, "that my friend
+had lost his senses, completely and totally."
+
+"The fact is," the Englishman declared, "they were never keener nor more
+lucid than at this present moment."
+
+"But five millions!"
+
+"Five millions; a bagatelle," smiling.
+
+"Certainly you can not be serious, and if you were, it is out of the
+question. Death of my life! The kingdom would be at my ears. The people
+would shout that I was selling out to the English, that I was putting
+them into the mill to grind for English sacks."
+
+"Your Majesty will recollect that the measure authorizing this loan
+was rather a peculiar one. Five millions were to be borrowed
+indiscriminately, of any man or body of men willing to advance the money
+on the securities offered. First come, first served, was not written,
+but it was implied. It was this which roused my curiosity, or cupidity,
+if you will."
+
+"I can not recollect that the bill was as you say," said the king,
+frowning.
+
+"I believe you. When the bill came to you, you were not expected to
+recollect anything but the royal signature. Have you read half of what
+you have signed and made law? No. I am serious. What is it to you or to
+the people, who secures this public mortgage, so long as the money
+is forthcoming? I desire to purchase at face value the twenty
+certificates."
+
+"As a representative of England?"
+
+The diplomat smiled. The king's political ignorance was well known. "As
+a representative of England, Sire, I could not purchase the stubs from
+which these certificates are cut. And then, as I remarked, I am an
+unfettered agent of self. The interest at two per cent. will be a
+fine income on a lump of stagnant money. Even in my own country, where
+millionaires are so numerous as to be termed common, I am considered a
+rich man. My personal property, aside from my estates, is five times the
+amount of the loan. A mere bagatelle, if I may use that pleasantry."
+
+"Impossible, impossible!" cried the king, starting to his feet, while
+a line of worry ran across his forehead. He strode about impatiently
+slapping his boots with the riding stick. "It is impossible."
+
+"Why do you say impossible, Sire?"
+
+"I can not permit you to put in jeopardy a quarter of a million pounds,"
+forgetting for the moment that he was powerless.
+
+"Aha!" the diplomat cried briskly. "There is, then, beneath your
+weariness and philosophy, a fear?"
+
+"A fear?" With an effort the king smoothed the line from his forehead.
+"Why should there be fear?"
+
+"Why indeed, when our cousin Josef--" He stopped and looked toward the
+mountains.
+
+"Well?" abruptly.
+
+"I was thinking what a fine coup de maitre it would be for his Highness
+to gather in all these pretty slips of parchment given under the hand of
+Leopold."
+
+"Small matter if he should. I should pay him." The king sat down. "And
+it is news to me that Josef can get together five millions."
+
+"He has friends, rich and powerful friends."
+
+"No matter, I should pay him."
+
+"Are you quite sure?"
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"The face of the world changes in the course of ten years. Will there be
+five millions in your treasury ten years hence?"
+
+"The wealth of my kingdom is not to be questioned," proudly, "nor its
+resources."
+
+"But in ten years, with the ministers you have?" The Englishman shrugged
+doubtfully. "Why have you not formed a new cabinet of younger men?
+Why have you retained those of your predecessor, who are your natural
+enemies? You have tried and failed."
+
+The expression of weariness returned to the king's face. He knew that
+all this was but a preamble to something of deeper significance. He
+anticipated what was forming in the other's mind, but he wished to
+avoid a verbal declaration. O, he knew that there was a net of intrigue
+enmeshing him, but it was so very fine that he could not pick up the
+smallest thread whereby to unravel it. Down in his soul he felt the
+shame of the knowledge that he dared not. A dreamer, rushing toward the
+precipice, would rather fall dreaming than waken and struggle futilely.
+
+"My friend," he said, finally, sighing, "proceed. I am all attention."
+
+"I never doubted your Majesty's perspicacity. You do not know, but you
+suspect, what I am about to disclose to you. My hope is that, when I am
+done, your Majesty will throw Kant and the rest of your philosophers out
+of the window. The people are sullen at the mention of your name,
+while they cheer another. There is an astonishing looseness about
+your revenues. The reds and the socialists plot for revolution and
+a republic, which is a thin disguise for a certain restoration. Your
+cousin the duke visits you publicly twice each year. He has been in the
+city a week at a time incognito, yet your minister of police seems
+to know nothing." The speaker ceased, and fondled the dahlia in his
+button-hole.
+
+The king, noting the action, construed it as the subtle old diplomat
+intended he should. "Yes, yes! I am a king only for her sake. Go on.
+Tell me all."
+
+"The archbishop and the chancellor are the only friends you possess.
+The Marshal, from personal considerations merely, remains neutral. Your
+army, excepting the cuirassiers, are traitors to your house. The wisest
+thing you have done was to surround yourself with this mercenary body,
+whom you call the royal cuirassiers, only, instead of three hundred, you
+should have two thousand. Self-interest will make them true to you.
+You might find some means to pay them, for they would be a good buffer
+between you and your enemies. The president of the Diet and the members
+are passing bills which will eventually undermine you. How long it will
+take I can not say. But this last folly, the loan, which you could have
+got on without, caps the climax. The duke was in the city last week
+unknown to you. Your minister of finance is his intimate. This loan
+was a connivance of them all. Why ten years, when it could easily be
+liquidated in five? I shall tell you. The duke expects to force you into
+bankruptcy within that time, and when the creditor demands and you can
+not pay, you will be driven from here in disgrace.
+
+"And where will you go? Certainly not to Osia, since you traded it for
+this throne. It was understood, when you assumed the reign, that the
+finances of the kingdom would remain unimpeachable. Bankrupt, the
+confederation will be forced to disavow you. They will be compelled to
+restore the throne to your enemy, who, believe me, is most anxious to
+become your creditor.
+
+"This is an independent state,--conditionally. The confederation have
+formed themselves into a protectorate. Why? I can only guess. One or
+more of them covet these beautiful lands. What are ten years to Josef,
+when a crown is the goal? Your revenues are slowly to decline, there
+will be internal troubles to eat up what money you have in the treasury.
+O, it is a plot so fine, so swiftly conceived, so cunningly devised that
+I would I were twenty years younger, to fight it with you! But I am
+old. My days for acting are past. I can only advise. He was sure of his
+quarry, this Josef whose hair is of many colors. Had you applied to the
+money syndicates of Europe, the banks of England, France, Germany, or
+Austria, your true sponsor, the result would always be the same: your
+ruin. Covertly I warned you not to sign; you laughed and signed. A trap
+was there, your own hand opened it. How they must have laughed at
+you! If you attempt to repudiate your signature the Diet has power to
+overrule you.
+
+"Truly, the shade of Macchiavelli masks in the garb of your cousin. I
+admire the man's genius. This is his throne by right of inheritance. I
+do not blame him. Only, I wish to save you. If you were alone, why, I
+do not say that I should trouble myself, for you yourself would not be
+troubled. But I have grown to love that child of yours. It is all for
+her. Do you now understand why I make the request? It appears Quixotic?
+Not at all. Put my money in jeopardy? Not while the kingdom exists. If
+you can not pay back, your kingdom will. Perhaps you ask what is the
+difference, whether I or the duke becomes your creditor? This: in ten
+years I shall be happy to renew the loan. In ten years, if I am gone,
+there will be my son. You wonder why I do this. I repeat it is for your
+daughter. And perhaps," with a dry smile, "it is because I have no love
+for Josef."
+
+"I will defeat him!" cried the king, a fire at last shining in his eyes.
+
+"You will not."
+
+"I will appeal to the confederation and inform them of the plot."
+
+"The resource of a child! They would laugh at you for your pains.
+For they are too proud of their prowess in statecraft to tolerate
+a suspicion that your cousin is a cleverer man than all of them put
+together. There remains only one thing for you to do."
+
+"And what is that?" wearily.
+
+"Accept my friendship at its true value."
+
+The king made no reply. He set his elbows on the arms of the rustic
+seat, interlaced his fingers and rested his chin on them, while his
+booted legs slid out before him. His meditation lengthened into several
+minutes. The diplomat evinced no sign of impatience.
+
+"Come with me," said the king, rising quickly. "I will no longer dream.
+I will act. Come."
+
+The diplomat nodded approvingly; and together they marched toward the
+palace. The bulldog trotted on behind, his pink tongue lolling out
+of his black mouth, a white tusk or two gleaming on each side. The
+Lieutenant of the cuirassiers saluted as they passed him, and, when they
+had gone some distance, swung in behind. He observed with some concern
+that his Majesty was much agitated.
+
+The business of the kingdom, save that performed in the Diet, was
+accomplished in the east wing of the palace; the king's apartments,
+aside from the state rooms, occupied the west wing. It was to the
+business section that the king conducted the diplomat. In the chamber of
+finance its minister was found busy at his desk. He glanced up casually,
+but gave an ejaculation of surprise when he perceived who his visitors
+were.
+
+"O, your Majesty!" he cried, bobbing up and running out his chair.
+"Good afternoon, your Excellency," to the Englishman, adjusting his
+gold-rimmed glasses, through which his eyes shone pale and cold.
+
+The diplomat bowed. The little man reminded him of M. Thiers, that
+effervescence of soda tinctured with the bitterness of iron. He
+understood the distrust which Count von Wallenstein entertained for him,
+but he was not distrustful of the count. Distrust implies uncertainty,
+and the Englishman was not the least uncertain as to his conception of
+this gentleman of finance.
+
+There were few men whom the count could not interpret; one stood before
+him. He could not comprehend why England had sent so astute a diplomat
+and politician to a third-rate kingdom. Of that which we can not
+understand we are suspicious, and the guilty are distrustful. Neither
+the minister of police nor his subordinates could fathom the purpose of
+this calm, dignified old man with the difficult English name.
+
+"Count," began the king, pleasantly, "his Excellency here has made a
+peculiar request."
+
+"And what might that be, Sire?"
+
+"He offers to purchase the entire number of certificates issued to-day
+for our loan."
+
+"Five millions of crowns?" The minister's astonishment was so genuine
+that in jerking back his head his glasses slipped from his nose and
+dangled on the string.
+
+The Englishman bowed again, the wrinkle of a smile on his face.
+
+"I would not believe him serious at first, count," said the king,
+laughing easily, "but he assured me that he is. What can be done about
+it?"
+
+"O, your Majesty," cried the minister, excitedly, "it would not be
+politic. And then the measure--"
+
+"Is it possible that I have misconstrued its import?" the diplomat
+interposed with a fine air of surprise.
+
+"You are familiar--" began the count, hesitatingly.
+
+"Perfectly; that is, I believe so."
+
+"But England--"
+
+"Has nothing whatever to do with the matter. Something greater, which
+goes by the name of self-interest."
+
+"Ah," said the count, his wrinkles relaxing; "then it is on your own
+responsibility?"
+
+"Precisely."
+
+"But five millions of crowns--two hundred and fifty thousand pounds!"
+The minister could not compose himself. "This is a vast sum of money. We
+expected not an individual, but a syndicate, to accept our securities,
+to become debtors to the various banks on the continent. But a personal
+affair! Five millions of crowns! The possibilities of your wealth
+overwhelm me."
+
+The Englishman smiled. "I dare say I have more than my share of this
+world's goods. I can give you a check for the amount on the bank of
+England."
+
+"Your Majesty's lamented predecessor--"
+
+"Is dead," said the king gently. He had no desire to hear the minister
+recount that ruler's virtues. "Peace to his ashes."
+
+"Five millions of crowns!" The minister had lost his equipoise in the
+face of the Englishman's great riches, of which hitherto he had held
+some doubts. Suddenly a vivid thought entered his confused brain. The
+paper cutter in his hand trembled. In the breathing space allowed him
+he began to calculate rapidly. The king and the diplomat had been in the
+garden; something had passed between them. What? The paper cutter slowly
+ceased its uneven movements. The count calmly placed it behind the
+inkwells. .... The Englishman knew. The glitter of gold gave way to
+the thought of the peril. A chasm yawned at his feet. But he was an old
+soldier in the game of words and cross-purposes.
+
+"We should be happy to accord you the privilege of becoming the
+kingdom's creditor," he said, smiling at the diplomat, whom nothing had
+escaped. "I am afraid, however, that your request has been submitted too
+late. At ten o'clock this morning the transfer of the certificates would
+have been a simple matter. There are twenty in all; it may not be too
+late to secure some of them." He looked tranquilly from the Englishman
+to the king.
+
+The smiling mask fell from the king's face; he felt that he was lost. He
+tried to catch his friend's eye, but the diplomat was deeply interested
+in the console of the fireplace.
+
+"They seem to be at a premium," the Englishman said, "which speaks well
+for the prosperity of the country. I am sorry to have troubled you."
+
+"It would have been a pleasure indeed," replied the count. He stood
+secure within his fortress, so secure that he would have liked to laugh.
+
+"It is too bad," said the king, pulling his thoughts together.
+
+"Your Majesty is giving the matter too much importance," said the
+diplomat. "It was merely a whim. I shall have the pleasure and honor of
+presenting my successor this evening."
+
+The count bent low, while the king nodded absently. He was thinking that
+a penful of ink, carelessly trailed over a sheet of paper, had lost him
+his throne. He was about to draw the arm of the diplomat through his
+own, when his step was arrested by the entrance of a messenger who
+presented a letter to the minister of finance.
+
+"With your Majesty's permission," he said, tearing open the envelope.
+As he read the contents, his shoulders sank to their habitual stoop and
+benignity once more shone in the place of alertness. "Decidedly, fate is
+not with your Excellency to-day. M. Jacobi writes me that four millions
+have already been disposed of to M. Everard & Co., English bankers in
+the Konigstrasse, who are representing a French firm in this particular
+instance. I am very sorry."
+
+"It is of no moment now," replied the Englishman indifferently.
+
+The adverb which concluded this declaration caught the keen ear of the
+minister, who grew tall again. What would he not have given to read
+the subtle brain of his opponent, for opponent he knew him to be! His
+intense scrutiny was blocked by a pair of most innocent eyes.
+
+"Well," said the king impatiently, "let us be gone, my friend. The talk
+of money always leaves a copperish taste on my tongue."
+
+Arm in arm they passed from the chamber. When the door closed behind
+them, the minister of finance drew his handkerchief across his brow.
+
+"Everard & Co.," mused the Englishman aloud. "Was it not indeed a stroke
+for your cousin to select them as his agents? You will in truth be
+accused of selling out to the English. But there is a coincidence in all
+this."
+
+"I am lost!" said the king.
+
+"On the contrary, you are saved. Everard & Co. are my bankers and
+attorneys; in fact, I own an interest in the firm."
+
+"What is this you tell me?" cried the king.
+
+"Sire, we English have a peculiar trait; it is asking for something
+after we have taken it. The human countenance is a fine picture book.
+I should like to read that belonging to your cousin Josef, providing I
+could read unobserved."
+
+"My friend!" said the king.
+
+"Say nothing. Here is the bulldog; take him to her Royal Highness with
+my compliments. There is no truer friend than an animal of his breed.
+He is steadfast in his love, for he makes but few friends; he is a good
+companion, for he is undemonstrative; he can read and draw inferences,
+and your enemies will be his. I shall bid you good afternoon. God be
+with your Majesty."
+
+"Ah, to lose you now!" said, the king, a heaviness in his heart such as
+presentiment brings.
+
+The diplomat turned and went down the grand corridor. The bulldog tugged
+at his chain. Animals are gifted with prescience. He knew that his
+master had passed forever out of his life. Presently he heard the
+voice of the princess calling; and the glamour of royalty encompassed
+him,--something a human finds hard to resist, and he was only a dog.
+
+Meanwhile another messenger had entered the chamber of finance and had
+gone. On the minister's desk lay a crumpled sheet of paper on which was
+written:
+
+"Treason and treachery! It has at this moment been ascertained that,
+while pretending to be our agents in securing the consols, M. Everard &
+Co. now refuse to deliver them into the custody of Baron von Rumpf, as
+agreed, and further, that M. Everard & Co. are bankers and attorneys to
+his Excellency the British minister. He must not leave this city with
+those consols."
+
+With his eyes riveted on these words, the minister of finance, huddled
+in his chair, had fallen into a profound study.
+
+There were terrible times in the house of Josef that night.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. AN EPISODE TEN YEARS AFTER
+
+One fine September morning in a year the date of which is of no
+particular importance, a man stepped out of a second-class carriage
+on to the canopied platform of the railway terminus in the ancient and
+picturesque city of Bleiberg. He yawned, shook himself, and stretched
+his arms and legs, relieved to find that the tedious journey from Vienna
+had not cramped those appendages beyond recovery.
+
+He stood some inches above the average height, and was built up in
+a manner that suggested the handiwork of a British drill-master, his
+figure being both muscular and symmetrical. Besides, there was on his
+skin that rich brown shadow which is the result only of the forces
+of the sun and wind, a life in the open air. This color gave peculiar
+emphasis to the yellow hair and mustache. His face was not handsome,
+if one accept the Greek profile as a model of manly beauty, but it
+was cleanly and boldly cut, healthful, strong and purposeful, based on
+determined jaws and a chin which would have been obstinate but for the
+presence of a kindly mouth.
+
+A guard deposited at his feet a new hatbox, a battered traveling bag and
+two gun cases which also gave evidence of rough usage. The luggage was
+literally covered with mutilated square and oblong slips of paper of
+many colors, on which were printed the advertisements of far-sighted
+hotel keepers all the way from Bombay to London and half-way back across
+the continent.
+
+There was nothing to be seen, however, indicative of the traveler's
+name. He surveyed his surroundings with lively interest shining in his
+gray eyes, one of which peered through a monocle encircled by a thin rim
+of tortoise shell. He watched the fussy customs officials, who, by
+some strange mischance, overlooked his belongings. Finally he made an
+impatient gesture.
+
+"Find me a cab," he said to the attentive guard, who, with an eye to
+the main chance, had waved off the approach of a station porter. "If the
+inspectors are in no hurry, I am."
+
+"At once, my lord;" and the guard, as he stooped and lifted the luggage,
+did not see the start which this appellation caused the stranger to
+make, but who, after a moment, was convinced that the guard had given
+him the title merely out of politeness. The guard placed the traps
+inside of one of the many vehicles stationed at the street exit of the
+terminus. He was an intelligent and deductive servant.
+
+The traveler was some noted English lord who had come to Bleiberg
+to shoot the famed golden pheasant, and had secured a second-class
+compartment in order to demonstrate his incognito. Persons who traveled
+second-class usually did so to save money; yet this tall Englishman,
+since the train departed from Vienna, had almost doubled in gratuities
+the sum paid for his ticket. The guard stood respectfully at the door
+of the cab, doffed his cap, into which a memento was dropped, and went
+along about his business.
+
+The Englishman slammed the door, the jehu cracked his whip, and a moment
+later the hoarse breathings of the motionless engines became lost in the
+sharper noises of the city carts. The unknown leaned against the faded
+cushions, curled his mustache, and smiled as if well satisfied with
+events. It is quite certain that his sense of ease and security would
+have been somewhat disturbed had he known that another cab was close
+on the track of his, and that its occupant, an officer of the city
+gendarmerie, alternately smiled and frowned as one does who floats
+between conviction and uncertainty. At length the two vehicles turned
+into the Konigstrasse, the principal thoroughfare of the capital, and
+here the Englishman's cab came to a stand. The jehu climbed down and
+opened the door.
+
+"Did Herr say the Continental?" he asked.
+
+"No; the Grand."
+
+The driver shrugged, remounted his box, and drove on. The Grand Hotel
+was clean enough and respectable, but that was all that could be said
+in its favor. He wondered if the Englishman would haggle over the fare.
+Englishmen generally did. He was agreeably disappointed, however, when,
+on arriving at the mean hostelry, his passenger plunged a hand into a
+pocket and produced three Franz-Josef florins.
+
+"You may have these," he said, "for the trouble of having them exchanged
+into crowns."
+
+As he whipped up, the philosophical cabman mused that these tourists
+were beyond the pale of his understanding. With a pocket full of money,
+and to put up at the Grand! Why not the Continental, which lay close to
+the Werter See, the palaces, the royal and public gardens? It was at
+the Continental that the fine ladies and gentlemen from Vienna, and
+Innsbruck, and Munich, and Belgrade, resided during the autumn months.
+But the Grand--ach! it was in the heart of the shops and markets, and
+within a stone's throw of that gloomy pile of granite designated in the
+various guide books as the University of Bleiberg.
+
+The Englishman had some difficulty in finding a pen that would write,
+and the ink was oily, and the guest-book was not at the proper angle.
+At last he managed to form the letters of his name, which was John
+Hamilton. After some deliberation, he followed this with "England." The
+proprietor, who acted as his own clerk, drew the book toward him, and
+after some time, deciphered the cabalistic signs.
+
+"Ah, Herr John Hamilton of England; is that right?"
+
+"Yes; I am here for a few days' shooting. Can you find me a man to act
+as guide?"
+
+"This very morning, Herr."
+
+"Thanks."
+
+Then he proceeded up the stairs to the room assigned to him. The smell
+of garlic which pervaded the air caused him to make a grimace. Once
+alone in the room, he looked about. There was neither soap nor towel,
+but there was a card which stated that the same could be purchased at
+the office. He laughed. A pitcher of water and a bowl stood on a small
+table, which, by the presence of a mirror (that could not in truth
+reflect anything but light and darkness), served as a dresser. These
+he used to good advantage, drying his face and hands on the white
+counterpane of the bed, and laughing quietly as he did so. Next he lit
+a pipe, whose capacity for tobacco was rather less than that of a lady's
+thimble, sat in a chair by the window, smoked quietly, and gazed down on
+the busy street.
+
+It was yet early in the morning; sellers of vegetables, men and women
+peasants, with bare legs and wooden shoes, driving shaggy Servian ponies
+attached to low, cumbersome carts, passed and repassed, to and from the
+markets. A gendarme, leaning the weight of his shoulder on the guard of
+a police saber, rested against the corner of a wine shop across the way.
+Students, wearing squat caps with vizors, sauntered indolently along,
+twirling canes and ogling all who wore petticoats. Occasionally the
+bright uniform of a royal cuirassier flashed by; and the Englishman
+would lean over the sill and gaze after him, nodding his head in
+approval whenever the cuirassier sat his horse well.
+
+In the meantime the gendarme, who followed him from the station, had
+entered the hotel, hastily glanced at the freshly written name, and made
+off toward the palace.
+
+"Well, here we are," mused the Englishman, pressing his thumb into the
+bowl of his pipe. "The affair promises some excitement. To-morrow will
+be the sixth; on the twentieth it will be a closed incident, as the
+diplomats would say. I don't know what brought me here so far ahead of
+time. I suppose I must look out for a crack on the head from some one
+I don't know, but who knows me so deuced well that he has hunted me
+in India and England, first with fine bribes, then with threats." He
+glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the gun cases. "It was a
+capital idea, otherwise a certain ubiquitous customs official, who lies
+in wait for the unwary at the frontier, would now be an inmate of
+a hospital. To have lived thirty-five years, and to have ground out
+thirteen of them in her Majesty's, is to have acquired a certain disdain
+for danger, even when it is masked. I am curious to see how far these
+threats will go. It will take a clever man to trap me. The incognito is
+a fort. By the way, I wonder how the inspectors at the station came to
+overlook my traps? Strange, considering what I have gone through."
+
+At this moment the knuckles of a hand beat against the door.
+
+"Come in!" answered the Englishman, wheeling his chair, but making no
+effort to rise. "Come in!"
+
+The door swung in, and there entered a short, spectacled man in dark
+gray clothes which fairly bristled with brass buttons. He was the chief
+inspector of customs. He bowed.
+
+The Englishman, consternation widening his eyes, lowered his pipe.
+
+"Monsieur Hamilton's pardon," the inspector began, speaking in French,
+"but with your permission I shall inspect your luggage and glance at
+your passports." He bowed again.
+
+"Now do you know, mon ami," replied the Englishman, "that Monsieur
+Hamilton will not permit you to gaze even into yonder washbowl?" He rose
+lazily.
+
+"But, Monsieur," cried the astonished official, to whom non-complaisance
+in the matter of inspection was unprecedented, "you certainly will not
+put any obstacle in the path of my duty!"
+
+"Your duty, Monsieur the Spectacles, is to inspect at the station.
+There your assistants refused to award me their attention. You are
+trespassing."
+
+"Monsieur forgets," sternly; "it is the law. Is it possible that I shall
+be forced to call in the gendarmes to assist me? This is extraordinary!"
+
+"I dare say it is, on your part," admitted the Englishman, polishing the
+bowl of his pipe against the side of his nose. "You had best go at once.
+If you do not, I shall take you by the nape of your Bleibergian neck and
+kick you down the stairs. I have every assurance of my privileges.
+The law here, unless it has changed within the past hour, requires
+inspection at the frontier, and at the capital; but your jurisdiction
+does not extend beyond the stations. Bon jour, Monsieur the Spectacles;
+bon jour!"
+
+"O, Monsieur!"
+
+"Good day!"
+
+"Monsieur, it is my duty; I must!"
+
+"Good day! How will you go, by the stairs or by the window? I--but
+wait!" an idea coming to him which caused him to reflect on the possible
+outcome of violence done to a government official, who, perhaps, was
+discharging his peculiar duty at the orders of superiors. He walked
+swiftly to the door and slid the bolt, to the terror of the inspector,
+on whose brow drops of perspiration began to gather. "Now," opening the
+hat box and taking out a silk hat, "this is a hat, purchased in Paris
+at Cook's. There is nothing in the lining but felt. Look into the
+box; nothing. Take out your book and follow me closely," he continued,
+dividing the traveling bag into halves, and he began to enumerate the
+contents.
+
+"But, Monsieur!" remonstrated the inspector, who did not enjoy this
+infringement of his prerogatives; his was the part to overhaul. "This
+is--"
+
+"Be still and follow me," and the Englishman went on with the
+inventory. "There!" when he had done, "not a dutiable thing except this
+German-Scotch whisky, and that is so bad that I give it to you rather
+than pay duty. What next? My passports? Here they are, absolutely
+flawless, vised by the authorities in Vienna."
+
+The slips crackled in the fluttering fingers of the inspector. "They
+are as you say, Monsieur," he said, returning the permits. Then he added
+timidly, "And the gun cases?"
+
+"The gun cases!" The pipe spilled its coal to the floor. "The gun
+cases!"
+
+"Yes, Monsieur."
+
+"And why do you wish to look into them?" with agitation.
+
+"Smugglers sometimes fill them with cigars."
+
+"Ah!" The Englishman selected two loaded shells, drew a gun from the
+case, threw up the breech and rammed in the shells. Then he extended
+the weapon to within an inch of the terrified inspector's nose. "Now,
+Monsieur the Spectacles, look in there and tell me what you see."
+
+The fellow sank half-fainting into a chair. "Mon Dieu, Monsieur, would
+you kill me who have a family?"
+
+"What's a customs inspector, more or less?" asked the terrible islander,
+laughing. "I advise you not to ask me to let you look into the other
+gun, out of consideration for your family. It has hair triggers, and my
+fingers tremble."
+
+"Monsieur, Monsieur, you do wrong to trifle with the law. I shall be
+obliged to report you. You will be arrested."
+
+"Nothing of the kind," was the retort. "I have only to inform the
+British minister how remiss you were in your obligations. I should go
+free, whereas you would be discharged. But what I demand to know is,
+what the devil is the meaning of this farce."
+
+"I am simply obeying orders," answered the inspector, wiping his
+forehead. "It is not a farce, as Monsieur will find." Then, as if to
+excuse this implied threat: "Will Monsieur please point the gun the
+other way?"
+
+The Englishman unloaded the gun and tossed it on the bed.
+
+"Thanks. In coming here I simply obeyed the orders of the minister of
+police."
+
+"And what in the world did you expect to find?"
+
+"We are looking--that is, they are looking--O, Monsieur, it is
+impossible for me to disclose to you my government's purposes."
+
+"What and whom were you expecting?" demanded the Englishman. "You
+shall not leave this room till you have fully explained this remarkable
+intrusion."
+
+"We were expecting the Lord and Baronet Fitzgerald."
+
+"The lord!" laughing. "Does the lord visit Bleiberg often, then, that
+you prepare this sort of a reception? And the Baronet Fitzgerald?"
+
+"They are the same and the one person."
+
+"And who the deuce is he; a spy, a smuggler, a villain, or what?"
+
+"As to that, Monsieur," with a wonder why this man laughed, "I know no
+more than you. But I do know that for the past month every Englishman
+has been subjected to this surveillance, and has submitted with more
+grace than you," with an oblique glance.
+
+"What! Examined his luggage at the hotel?"
+
+"Yes, Monsieur. It is the order of the minister of police. I know not
+why." The natural color was returning to his cheeks.
+
+"This is a fine country, I must say. At least the king should acquaint
+his visitors with the true cause of this treatment." In his turn the
+Englishman resorted to oblique glances.
+
+"The king?" The inspector raised a shoulder and spread his hands. "The
+king is a paralytic, Monsieur, and has little to say these days."
+
+"A paralytic? I thought he was called `the handsome monarch'?"
+
+"That was years ago, Monsieur. For three years he has been helpless and
+bedridden. The archbishop is the real king nowadays. But he meddles not
+with the police."
+
+"This is very sad. I suppose it would be impossible for strangers to see
+him now."
+
+"An audience?" a sparkle behind the spectacles. "Is your business with
+the king, Monsieur?"
+
+"My business is mine," shortly. "I am only a tourist, and should have
+liked to see the king from mere curiosity. However, had you explained
+all this to me, I should not have caused you so many gray hairs."
+
+"Monsieur did not give me the chance," simply.
+
+"True," the Englishman replied soberly. He began to think that he had
+been over hasty in asserting his privileges. "But all this has nothing
+to do with me. My name is John Hamilton. See, it is engraved on the
+stock of the gun," catching it up and holding it under the spectacled
+eyes, which still observed it with some trepidation. "That is the name
+in my passports, in the book down stairs, in the lining of my hat. I am
+sorry, since you were only obeying orders, that my rough play has caused
+you alarm." He unbolted the door. "Good morning."
+
+The inspector left the room as swiftly as his short legs could carry
+him, ignoring the ethics of common politeness. As he stumbled down the
+stairs he cursed the minister of police for requiring this spy work of
+him, and not informing him why it was done. Ah, these cursed Anglais
+from Angleterre! They were all alike, and this one was the worst he had
+ever encountered. And those ugly black orifices in the gun! Peste! He
+would resign! Yes, certainly he would resign.
+
+As to the Englishman, he stood in the center of the room and scratched
+his head. "Hang it, I've made an ass of myself. That blockhead will have
+the gendarmes about my ears. If they arrest me there will be the devil
+to pay. The Lord and the Baronet Fitzgerald!" he repeated. He sat down
+on the edge of the bed, and fell to laughing again. "Confound these
+picture-book kingdoms! They always take themselves so seriously. Well,
+if the gendarmes call this afternoon I'll not be at home. No, thank you.
+I shall be hunting pheasants."
+
+And thereat he set to work cleaning the gun which had all but prostrated
+the inspector. Soon the room smelled of oiled rags and tobacco.
+Some-times the worker whistled softly. Sometimes he let the gun fall
+against his knee, and stared dreamily through the window at the flight
+of the ragged clouds. Again, he would shake his head, as if there were
+something which he failed to understand. Half an hour passed, when again
+some one knocked on the door.
+
+"Come in!" Under his breath he added: "The gendarmes, likely."
+
+But it was only the proprietor of the hotel. "Asking Herr's pardon," he
+said, "for this intrusion, but I have secured a man for you. I have the
+honor to recommend Johann Kopf as a good guide and hunter."
+
+"Send him up. If he pleases me, I'll use him."
+
+The proprietor withdrew.
+
+Johann Kopf proved to be a young German with a round, ruddy face,
+which was so innocent of guile as to be out of harmony with the
+shrewd, piercing black eyes looking out of it. The Englishman eyed him
+inquisitively, even suspiciously.
+
+"Are you a good hunter?" he asked.
+
+"There is none better hereabout," answered Johann, twirling his cap with
+noticeably white fingers. It was only in after days that the Englishman
+appreciated the full significance of this answer.
+
+"Speak English?"
+
+"No. Herr's German is excellent, however."
+
+"Humph!" The Englishman gave a final glance into the shining tubes of
+the gun, snapped the breach, and slipped it into the case. "You'll do.
+Return to the office; I'll be down presently."
+
+"Will Herr hunt this morning?"
+
+"No; what I wish this morning is to see the city of Bleiberg."
+
+"That is simple," said Johann. The fleeting, imperceptible smile did not
+convict his eyes of false keenness.
+
+He bowed out. When the door closed the Englishman waited until the sound
+of retreating steps failed. Then he took the gun case which he had not
+yet opened, and thrust it under the mattress of the bed.
+
+"Johann," he said, as he put on a soft hat and drew a cane from the
+straps of the traveling bag, "you will certainly precede me in our
+hunting expeditions. I do not like your eyes; they are not at home in
+your boyish face. Humph! what a country. Every one speaks a different
+tongue."
+
+The city of Bleiberg lay on a hill and in the valleys which fell away
+to the east and west. It was divided into two towns, the upper and
+the lower. The upper town and that part which lay on the shores of the
+Werter See was the modern and fashionable district. It was here that the
+king and the archbishop had their palaces and the wealthy their brick
+and stone. The public park skirted the lake, and was patterned after
+those fine gardens which add so much to the picturesqueness of Vienna
+and Berlin. There were wide gravel paths and long avenues of lofty
+chestnuts and lindens, iron benches, fountains and winding flower beds.
+The park, the palaces, and the Continental Hotel enclosed a public
+square, paved with asphalt, called the Hohenstaufenplatz, in the center
+of which rose a large marble fountain of several streams, guarded by
+huge bronze wolves. Here, too, were iron benches which were, for the
+most part, the meeting-place of the nursemaids. Carriages were allowed
+to make the circuit, but not to obstruct the way.
+
+The Konigstrasse began at the Platz, divided the city, and wound away
+southward, merging into the highway which continued to the Thalian Alps,
+some thirty miles distant. The palaces were at the southeast corner of
+the Platz, first the king's, then the archbishop's. The private gardens
+of each ran into the lake. Directly across from the palaces stood the
+cathedral, a relic of five centuries gone. On the northwest corner stood
+the Continental Hotel, with terrace and parapet at the water's edge, and
+a delightful open-air cafe facing the Platz. September and October were
+prosperous months in Bleiberg. Fashionable people who desired quiet made
+Bleiberg an objective point. The pheasants were plump, there were boars,
+gray wolves, and not infrequently Monsieur Fourpaws of the shaggy coat
+wandered across from the Carpathians.
+
+As to the lower town, it was given over to the shops and markets, the
+barracks, the university, and the Rathhaus, which served as the house of
+the Diet. It was full of narrow streets and quaint dwellings.
+
+Up the Konigstrasse the guide led the Englishman, who nodded whenever
+the voluble chatter of the German pleased him. When they began the
+descent of the hill, the vista which opened before them drew from the
+Englishman an ejaculation of delight. There lay the lake, like a bright
+new coin in a green purse; the light of the sun broke on the white
+buildings and flashed from the windows; and the lawns twinkled like
+emeralds.
+
+"It makes Vienna look to her laurels, eh, Herr?" said Johann.
+
+"But it must have cost a pretty penny."
+
+"Aye, that it did; and the king is being impressed with that fact every
+day. There are few such fine palaces outside of first-class kingdoms.
+The cathedral there was erected at the desire of a pope, born five
+hundred years ago. It is full of romance. There is to be a grand wedding
+there on the twentieth of this month. That is why there are so many
+fashionable people at the hotels. The crown prince of Carnavia, which
+is the large kingdom just east of us, is to wed the Princess Alexia, the
+daughter of the king."
+
+"On the twentieth? That is strange."
+
+"Strange?"
+
+"I meant nothing," said the Englishman, jerking back his shoulders;
+"I had in mind another affair."
+
+There was a flash in Johann's eyes, but he subdued it before the
+Englishman was aware of its presence. "However," said Johann, "there is
+something strange. The prince was to have arrived a week ago to complete
+the final arrangements for the wedding. His suite has been here a week,
+but no sign of his Highness. He stopped over a train at Ehrenstein
+to visit for a few hours a friend of the king, his father. Since then
+nothing has been heard from him. The king, it is said, fears that some
+accident has happened to him. Carnavia is also disturbed over this
+disappearance. Some whisper of a beautiful peasant girl. Who can say?"
+
+"Any political significance in this marriage?"
+
+"Leopold expects to strengthen his throne by the alliance. But--"
+Johann's mouth closed and his tongue pushed out his cheek. "There will
+be some fine doings in the good city of Bleiberg before the month is
+gone. The minister from the duchy has been given his passports. Every
+one concedes that trouble is likely to ensue. Baron von Rumpf--"
+
+"Baron von Rumpf," repeated the Englishman thoughtfully.
+
+"Yes; he is not a man to submit to accusations without making a
+disagreeable defense."
+
+"What does the duke say?"
+
+"The duke?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"His Highness has been dead these four years."
+
+"Dead four years? So much for man and his futile dreams. Dead four
+years," absently.
+
+"What did you say, Herr?"
+
+"I? Nothing. How did he die?"
+
+"He was thrown from his horse and killed. But the duchess lives, and she
+is worthy of her sire. Eh, Herr, there is a woman for you! She should
+sit on this throne; it is hers by right. These Osians are aliens and
+were forced on us."
+
+"It seems to me, young man, that you are talking treason."
+
+"That is my business, Herr." Johann laughed. "I am a socialist, and
+occasionally harangue for the reds. And sometimes, when I am in need of
+money, I find myself in the employ of the police."
+
+The muscles of the Englishman's jaws hardened, then they relaxed. The
+expression on the face of his guide was free from anything but bonhomie.
+
+"One must live," Johann added deprecatingly.
+
+"Yes, one must live," replied the Englishman.
+
+"O! but I could sell some fine secrets to the Osians had they money to
+pay. Ach! but what is the use? The king has no money; he is on the verge
+of bankruptcy, and this pretty bit of scenery is the cause of it."
+
+"So you are a socialist?" said the Englishman, passing over Johann's
+declamatory confidences.
+
+"Yes, Herr. All men are brothers."
+
+"Go to!" laughed the Englishman, "you aren't even a second cousin to me.
+But stay, what place is this we are passing?" indicating with his cane a
+red-brick mansion which was fronted by broad English lawns and protected
+from intrusion by a high iron fence.
+
+
+"That is the British legation, Herr."
+
+The Englishman stopped and stared, unconscious of the close scrutiny of
+the guide. His eyes traveled up the wide flags leading to the veranda,
+and he drew a picture of a square-shouldered old man tramping backward
+and forward, the wind tangling his thin white hair, his hands behind his
+back, his chin in his collar and at his heels a white bulldog. Rapidly
+another picture came. It was an English scene. And the echo of a voice
+fell on his ears. "My way and the freedom of the house and the key to
+the purse; your way and a closed door while I live. You can go, but you
+can not come back. You have decided? Yes? Then good morning." Thirteen
+years, thirteen years! He had sacrificed the freedom of the house and
+the key to the purse, the kind eyes and the warm pressure of that old
+hand. And for what? Starvation in the deserts, plenty of scars and
+little of thanks, ingratitude and forgetfulness.
+
+And now the kind eyes were closed and the warm hand cold. O, to recall
+the vanished face, the silent voice, the misspent years, the April days
+and their illusions! The Englishman took the monocle from his eye and
+looked at it, wondering what had caused the sudden blur.
+
+"There was a fine old man there in the bygone days," said Johann.
+
+"And who was he?"
+
+"Lord Fitzgerald, the British minister. He and Leopold were close
+friends." Johann's investigating gaze went unrewarded. The Englishman's
+face had resumed its expression of mild curiosity.
+
+"Ah; a compatriot of mine," he said. Inwardly he mused: "This guide is
+watching me; let him catch me if he can. His duchess? I know far too
+much of her!"
+
+"He was a millionaire, too," went on Johann.
+
+"Well, we can't all be rich. Come."
+
+They crossed the Strasse and traversed the walk at the side of the
+palace enclosures. The Englishman aimlessly trailed his cane along the
+green pickets of the fence till they ended in a stone arch which rose
+high over the driveway. The gates were open, and coming toward the two
+wanderers as they stood at the curb rolled the royal barouche, on
+each side of which rode a mounted cuirassier, sashed and helmeted. The
+Englishman, however, had observed nothing; he was lost in some dream.
+
+"Look, Herr!" cried Johann, rousing the other by a pull at the sleeve.
+"Look!" Socialist though he claimed to be, Johann touched his cap.
+
+In the barouche, leaning back among the black velvet cushions, her face
+mellowed by the shade of a small parasol, was a young woman of nineteen
+or twenty, as beautiful as a da Vinci freshly conceived. The Englishman
+saw a pair of grave dark eyes which, in the passing, met his and held
+them. He caught his breath.
+
+"Who is that?" he asked.
+
+"That is her Royal Highness the Crown Princess Alexia."
+
+Afterward the Englishman remembered seeing a white dog lying on the
+opposite seat.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. AN ADVENTURE WITH ROYALTY
+
+Maurice Carewe, attached to the American legation in Vienna, leaned
+against the stone parapet which separated the terraced promenade of the
+Continental Hotel from the Werter See, and wondered what had induced him
+to come to Bleiberg.
+
+He had left behind him the glory of September in Vienna, a city second
+only to Paris in fashion and gaiety; Vienna, with its inimitable bands,
+its incomparable gardens, its military maneuvers, its salons, its
+charming women; and all for a fool's errand. His Excellency was to
+blame. He had casually dropped the remark that the duchy's minister,
+Baron von Rumpf, had been given his passports as a persona non grata by
+the chancellor of the kingdom, and that a declaration of war was likely
+to follow. Maurice's dormant love of journalistic inquiry had become
+aroused, and he had asked permission to investigate the affair, a favor
+readily granted to him.
+
+But here he was, on the scene, and nobody knew anything, and nobody
+could tell anything. The duchess had remained silent. Not unnaturally he
+wished himself back in Vienna. There were no court fetes in the city
+of Bleiberg. The king's condition was too grave to permit them. And,
+besides, there had been no real court in Bleiberg for the space of ten
+years, so he was told. Those solemn affairs of the archbishop's, given
+once the week for the benefit of the corps diplomatique, were dull and
+spiritless. Her Royal Highness was seldom seen, save when she drove
+through the streets. Persons who remembered the reign before told what a
+mad, gay court it had been. Now it was funereal. The youth and beauty of
+Bleiberg held a court of its own. Royalty was not included, nor did it
+ask to be.
+
+A strange capital, indeed, Maurice reflected, as he gazed down into the
+cool, brown water. He regretted his caprice. There were pretty women in
+Vienna. Some of them belonged to the American colony. They danced well,
+they sang and played and rode. He had taught some of them how to fence,
+and he could not remember the times he had been "buttoned" while paying
+too much attention to their lips and eyes. For Maurice loved a thing
+of beauty, were it a woman, a horse or a Mediterranean sunset. What a
+difference between these two years in Vienna and that year in Calcutta!
+He never would forget the dingy office, with its tarnished sign, "U. S.
+Consul," tacked insecurely on the door, and the utter loneliness.
+
+He cast a pebble into the lake, and watched the ripples roll away and
+disappear, and ruminated on a life full of color and vicissitude. He
+remembered the Arizona days, the endless burning sand, the dull routine
+of a cavalry trooper, the lithe brown bodies of the Apaches, the first
+skirmish and the last. From a soldier he had turned journalist, tramped
+the streets of Washington in rain and shine, living as a man lived who
+must.
+
+One day his star had shot up from the nadir of obscurity, not very far,
+but enough to bring his versatility under the notice of the discerning
+Secretary of State, who, having been a friend of the father, offered
+the son a berth in the diplomatic corps. A consulate in a South American
+republic, during a revolutionary crisis, where he had shown consummate
+skill in avoiding political complications (and where, by a shrewd
+speculation in gold, he had feathered his nest for his declining years),
+proved that the continual incertitude of a journalistic career is a fine
+basis for diplomatic work. From South America he had gone to Calcutta,
+thence to Austria.
+
+He was only twenty-nine, which age in some is youth. He possessed an old
+man's wisdom and a boy's exuberance of spirits. He laughed whenever he
+could; to him life was a panorama of vivid pictures, the world a
+vast theater to which somehow he had gained admission. His beardless
+countenance had deceived more than one finished diplomat, for it was
+difficult to believe that behind it lay an earnest purpose and a daring
+courage. If he bragged a little, quizzed graybeards, sought strange
+places, sported with convention, and eluded women, it was due to his
+restlessness. Yet, he had the secretiveness of sand; he absorbed, but
+he revealed nothing. He knew his friends; they thought they knew him. It
+was his delight to have women think him a butterfly, men write him down
+a fool; it covered up his real desires and left him free.
+
+What cynicism he had was mellowed by a fanciful humor. Whether with
+steel or with words, he was a master of fence; and if at times some one
+got under his guard, that some one knew it not. To let your enemy see
+that he has hit you is to give him confidence. He saw humor where no one
+else saw it, and tragedy where it was not suspected. He was one of those
+rare individuals who, when the opportunity of chance refuses to come,
+makes one.
+
+"Germany and Austria are great countries," he mused, lighting a cigar.
+"Every hundredth man is a king, one in fifty is a duke, every tenth man
+is a prince, and one can not take a corner without bumping into a
+count or a baron. Even the hotel waiters are disquieting; there is that
+embarrassing atmosphere about them which suggests nobility in durance
+vile. As for me, I prefer Kentucky, where every man is a colonel, and
+you never make a mistake. And these kingdoms!" He indulged in subdued
+laughter. "They are always like comic operas. I find myself looking
+around every moment for the merry villagers so happy and so gay (at
+fifteen dollars the week), the eternal innkeeper and the perennial
+soubrette his daughter, the low comedian and the self-conscious tenor.
+Heigho! and not a soul in Bleiberg knows me, nor cares.
+
+"I'd rather talk five minutes to a pretty woman than eat stuffed
+pheasants the year around, and the stuffed pheasant is about all
+Bleiberg can boast of. Well, here goes for a voyage of discovery;" and
+he passed down the stone steps to the pier, quite unconscious of the
+admiring glances of the women who fluttered back and forth on the wide
+balconies above.
+
+It was four o'clock in the afternoon; a fresh wind redolent of pine and
+resin blew across the lake. Maurice climbed into a boat and pulled away
+with a strong, swift stroke, enjoying the liberation of his muscles. A
+quarter of a mile out he let the oars drift and took his bearings. He
+saw the private gardens of the king and the archbishop, and, convinced
+that a closer view would afford him entertainment, he caught up the oars
+again and moved inland.
+
+The royal gardens ran directly into the water, while those of the
+archbishop were protected by a wall of brick five or six feet in height,
+in the center of which was a gate opening on the water. Behind the gate
+was a small boat dock. Maurice plied the oars vigorously. He skirted the
+royal gardens, and the smell of newly mown lawns filled the air. Soon he
+was gliding along the sides of the moss-grown walls. A bird chirped in
+the overhanging boughs. He was about to cast loose the oars again, when
+the boat was brought to a violent stop. A few yards waterward from the
+gate there lay, hidden in the shadowed water, a sunken pier. On one of
+the iron piles the boat had become impaled.
+
+Maurice was tumbled into the bow of the boat, which began rapidly to
+fill. First he swore, then he laughed, for he was possessed of infinite
+good humor. The only thing left for him to do was to swim for the gate.
+With a rueful glance at his thin clothes, he dropped himself over the
+side of the wreck and struck out toward the gate. The water, having its
+source from the snowclad mountains, was icy. He was glad enough to grasp
+the lower bars of the gate and draw himself up. He was on the point of
+climbing over, when a picture presented itself to his streaming eyes.
+
+Seated on a bench made of twisted vine was a young girl. She held in her
+hand a book, but she was not reading it. She was scanning the unwritten
+pages of some reverie; her eyes, dark, large and wistful, were holding
+communion with the god of dreams. A wisp of hair, glossy as coal,
+trembled against a cheek white as the gown she wore.
+
+At her side, blinking in the last rays of the warm sun, sat a bulldog,
+toothless and old. Now and then a sear leaf, falling in a zig-zag
+course, rustled past his ears, and he would shake his head as if he,
+too, were dreaming and the leaves disturbed him. All at once he sniffed,
+his ears stood forward, and a low growl broke the enchantment. The
+girl, on discovering Maurice, closed the book and rose. The dog, still
+growling, jumped down and trotted to the gate. Maurice thought that it
+was time to speak.
+
+"Mademoiselle," he said, "pardon this intrusion, but my boat has met
+with an accident."
+
+The girl came to the gate. "Why, Monsieur," she exclaimed, "you are
+wet!"
+
+"That is true," replied Maurice, his teeth beginning to knock together.
+"I was forced to swim. If you will kindly open the gate and guide me to
+the street, I shall be much obliged to you."
+
+The gate swung outward, and in a moment Maurice was on dry land, or the
+next thing to it, which was the boat-dock.
+
+"Thank you," he said.
+
+"O! And you might have been drowned," compassion lighting her beautiful
+eyes. "Sit down on the bench, Monsieur, for you must be weak. And it was
+that sunken pier? I shall speak to Monseigneur; he must have it
+removed. Bull, stop growling; you are very impolite; the gentleman is in
+distress."
+
+Maurice sat down, not because he was weak, but because the desire to
+gain the street had suddenly subsided. Who was this girl who could say
+"must" to the formidable prelate? His quick eye noticed that she showed
+no sign of embarrassment. Indeed, she impressed him as one who was
+superior to that petty disturbance of collected thought. Somehow it
+seemed to him, as she stood there looking down at him, that he, too,
+should be standing. But she put forth a hand with gentle insistence when
+he made as though to rise. What an exquisite face, he thought. Against
+the whiteness of her skin her lips burned like poppy petals. Innocent,
+inquisitive eyes smiled gently, eyes in whose tranquil depths lay the
+glory of the world, asleep. Presently a color, faint and fugitive,
+dimmed the whiteness of her cheeks. Maurice, conscious of his rudeness
+and of a warmth in his own cheeks, instinctively lowered his gaze.
+
+"Pardon my rudeness," he said.
+
+"What is your name, Monsieur," she asked calmly.
+
+"It is Maurice Carewe. I am living in Vienna. I came to Bleiberg for
+pleasure, but the first day has not been propitious," with an apologetic
+glance at his dripping clothes.
+
+"Maurice Carewe," slowly repeating the full name as if to imprint it on
+her memory. "You are English?"
+
+He said: "No; I am one of those dreadful Yankees you have possibly read
+about."
+
+Her teeth gleamed. "Yes, I have heard of them. But you do not appear so
+very dreadful; though at present you are truly not at your best. What is
+this--this Yankeeland like?"
+
+"It would take me ever so long to tell you about it, it is such a great
+country."
+
+"You are a patriot!" clapping her hands. "No other country is so
+fine and large and great as your own. But tell me, is it as large as
+Austria?"
+
+"Austria? You will not be offended if I tell you?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Well," with fun in his eyes, "it is my opinion that I could hide
+Austria in my country so thoroughly that nobody would ever be able to
+find it again." He wondered how she would accept this statement.
+
+She lifted her chin and laughed, and the bulldog wagged his tail, as
+he always did when mirth touched her. He jumped up beside Maurice and
+looked into his face. Maurice patted his broad head, and he submitted.
+The girl looked rather surprised.
+
+"Are you a magician?" she asked.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Bull never makes friends."
+
+"But I do," said Maurice; "perhaps he understands that, and comes
+half-way. But it is rather strange to see a bulldog in this part of the
+country."
+
+"He was given to me, years ago, by an Englishman."
+
+"That accounts for it." He was experiencing a deal of cold, but he dared
+not mention it. "And may I ask your name?"
+
+"Ah, Monsieur," shyly, "to tell you my name would be to frighten you
+away."
+
+"I am sure nothing could do that," he declared earnestly. Had he been
+thinking of aught but her eyes he might have caught the significance of
+her words. But, then, the cold was numbing.
+
+She surveyed him with critical eyes. She saw a clean-shaven face, brown,
+handsome and eager, merry blue eyes, a chin firm and aggressive, a
+mischievous mouth, a forehead which showed the man of thought, a slim
+athletic form which showed the man of action--all of which combined to
+produce that indescribable air which attaches itself to the gentleman.
+
+"It is Alexia," she said, after some hesitation, watching him closely to
+observe the effect.
+
+But he was as far away as ever. "Alexia what?"
+
+"Only Alexia," a faint coquetry stealing into her glance.
+
+"O, then you are probably a maid?"
+
+"Y--es. But you are disappointed?"
+
+"No, indeed. You have put me more at ease. I suppose you serve the
+princess?"
+
+"Whenever I can," demurely.
+
+He could not keep his eyes from hers. "They say that she is a very
+lonely princess."
+
+"So lonely." And the coquetry faded from her eyes as her glance wandered
+waterward and became fixed on some object invisible and far away. "Poor
+lonely princess!"
+
+Maurice was growing colder and colder, but he did not mind. He had
+wished for some woman to talk to; his wish had been granted. "I feel
+sorry for her, if what they say is true," having no other words.
+
+"And what do they say, Monsieur?"
+
+"That she and her father have been socially ostracized. I should be
+proud to be her friend." Once the words were gone from him, he saw
+their silliness. "A presumptuous statement," he added; "I am an obscure
+foreigner."
+
+"Friendship, Monsieur, is a thing we all should prize, all the more so
+when it is disinterested."
+
+He said rapidly, for fear she might hear his teeth chatter: "They say
+she is very beautiful. Tell me what she is like."
+
+"I am no judge of what men call beauty. As to her character, I believe I
+may recommend that. She is good."
+
+He was sure that merriment twitched the corners of her lips, and he grew
+thoughtful. "Alexia. Is that not her Highness's name also?"
+
+"Yes, Monsieur; we have the same names." Her eyes fell, and she began to
+finger the pages of the book.
+
+"I am rested now," he said, with a sudden distrust. "I thank you."
+
+"Come, then, and I will show you the way to the gate."
+
+"I am sorry to have troubled you," he said.
+
+She did not reply, and together they walked up the path. The plants
+were dying, and the odor of decay hovered about them. Splashes of rich
+vermilion crowned the treetops, leaves of gold, russet and faded green
+rustled on the ground. The sun was gone behind the hills, the lake was
+tinted with salmon and dun, and Maurice (who honestly would have liked
+to run) was turning purple, not from atmospheric effect, but from the
+partly congealed state of his blood. Already he was thinking that his
+adventure had turned out rather well. It was but a simple task for a man
+of his imagination to construct a pretty romance, with a kingdom for a
+background. A maid of honor, perhaps; no matter, he would find means for
+future communication. A glamour had fallen upon him.
+
+As to the girl, who had scarce spoken to a dozen young men in her life,
+she was comparing four faces; one of a visionary character of which she
+had dreamed for ten years, and three which had recently entered into the
+small circle of her affairs. It was little pleasure to her to talk to
+those bald diplomats, who were always saying what they did not mean,
+and meaning what they did not say. And the young officers in the palace
+never presumed to address her unless spoken to.
+
+What a monotonous life it was! She was like a bird in a cage, ever
+longing for freedom, not of the air, but of impulse. To be permitted to
+yield to the impulses of the heart! What a delightful thought that was!
+But she, she seemed apart from all which was desirable to youth. Women
+courtesied to her, men touched their hats; but homage was not what she
+wanted. To be free, that was all; to come and go at will; to laugh and
+to sing. But ever the specter of royal dignity walked beside her and
+held her captive.
+
+She was to wed a man on whom she looked with indifference, but wed him
+she must; it was written. A toy of ambition, she was neither more nor
+less. Ah, to be as her maids, not royal, but free. Of the three new
+faces one belonged to the man whom she was to wed; another was a tall,
+light-haired man whom she had seen from her carriage; the last walked by
+her side. And somehow, the visionary face, the faces of the man whom
+she was to wed and the light-haired man suddenly grew indistinct. She
+glanced from the corner of her eyes at Maurice, but meeting his glance,
+in which lay something that caused her uneasiness, her gaze dropped to
+the path.
+
+"I shall be pleased to tell her Highness that a stranger, who has not
+met her, who does not even suspect her rebel spirit, desires to be her
+friend."
+
+"O, Mademoiselle," he cried in alarm, "that desire was expressed in
+confidence."
+
+"I know it. It is for that very reason I wish her to know. Have no fear,
+Monsieur;" and she laughed without mirth. "Her Highness will not send
+you to prison."
+
+Close at hand Maurice discovered a cuirassier, who, on seeing them,
+saluted and stood attention. Maurice was puzzled.
+
+"Lieutenant," said the girl, "Monsieur--Carewe?" turning to Maurice.
+
+"Yes, that is the name."
+
+"Well, then, Monsieur Carewe has met with an accident; please escort
+him to the gate. I trust you will not suffer any inconvenience from the
+cold. Good evening, Monsieur Carewe."
+
+She retraced her steps down the path. The bulldog followed. Once he
+looked back at Maurice, and stopped as if undecided, then went on.
+Maurice stared at the figure of the girl until it vanished behind a
+clump of rose bushes.
+
+"Well, Monsieur Carewe!" said the Lieutenant, a broad smile under his
+mustache.
+
+"I beg your pardon, Lieutenant. May I ask you who she is?"
+
+"What! You do not know?"
+
+Maurice suddenly saw light. "Her Royal Highness?" blankly.
+
+"Her Royal Highness, God bless her!" cried the Lieutenant heartily.
+
+"Amen to that," replied Maurice, his agitation visible even to the
+officer.
+
+They arrived at the gate in silence. The cuirassier raised the bar,
+touched his helmet, and said, with something like an amused twinkle in
+his eyes: "Would Monsieur like to borrow my helmet for a space?"
+
+Maurice put up a hand to his water-soaked hair, and gave an ejaculation
+of dismay. He had forgotten all about his hat, which was by now, in-all
+probabilities, at the bottom of the lake.
+
+"Curse the luck!" he said, in English.
+
+"Curse the want of it, I should say!" was the merry rejoinder, also in
+English.
+
+Maurice threw back his head and laughed, and the cuirassier caught the
+infection.
+
+"However, there is some compensation for the hat," said the cuirassier,
+straightening his helmet. "You are the first stranger who has spoken
+to her Highness this many a day. Did the dog take to your calves? Well,
+never mind; he has no teeth. It was only day before yesterday that the
+Marshal swore he'd have the dog shot. Poor dog! He is growing blind,
+too, or he'd never have risked his gums on the Marshal, who is all
+shins. If you will wait I will fetch you one of the archbishop's skull
+caps."
+
+"Don't trouble yourself," laughed Maurice. "What I need is not a hat,
+but a towel, and I'll get that at the hotel. George! I feel so like an
+ass. What is your name, Lieutenant?"
+
+"Von Mitter, Carl von Mitter, at your service. And you are Monsieur
+Carewe."
+
+"Of the American legation in Vienna. Thanks for your trouble."
+
+"None at all. You had better hurry along; your nails are growing black."
+
+Maurice passed into the street. "Her Royal Highness!" he muttered.
+"The crown princess, and I never suspected. Her name is Alexia, and she
+serves the princess whenever she can! Maurice, you are an ass!"
+
+Having arrived at this conclusion, and brushing the dank hair from his
+eyes, he thrust his hands into his oozing pockets, and proceeded
+across the square toward the Continental, wondering if there was a rear
+entrance. Happily the adventure absorbed all his thoughts. He was quite
+unobservant of the marked attention bestowed on him. Carriages filled
+the Strasse, and many persons moved along the walks. It was the
+promenade hour. The water, which still dripped from his clothes and
+trickled from his shoes, left a conspicuous trail behind; and this
+alone, without the absence of a hat, would have made him the object of
+amused and wondering smiles.
+
+A gendarme stared at him, but seeing that he walked straight, said
+nothing. Maurice, however, was serenely unaware of what was passing
+around him. He did not notice even the tall, broad-shouldered man who,
+with a gun under his arm, brushed past him, followed by a round-faced
+German over whose back was slung a game-bag. The man with the gun was
+also oblivious of his surroundings. He bumped into several persons,
+who scowled at him, but offered no remonstrance after having taken his
+measure. The German put his pipe into his pocket and advanced a step.
+
+"The other gun, Herr," he said, "would have meant the boar."
+
+"So it would, perhaps," was the reply.
+
+"We've done pretty good work these two days," went on the German; but
+as the other appeared not to have heard he fell to the rear again, a
+sardonic smile flitting over his oily face.
+
+When Maurice reached the hotel cafe he left an order for a cognac to
+be sent to his room, whither he repaired at once. As he got into dry
+clothes he mused.
+
+"I wonder what sort of a man that crown prince is? Now, if I were he,
+an army could not keep me away from Bleiberg. Either he is no judge
+of beauty, or the peasant girls hereabout are something extraordinary.
+Pshaw! a man always makes an ass of himself on his wedding eve; the
+crown prince is simply starting in early. I believe I'll hang on here
+till the wedding day; a royal marriage is one of those things which I
+have yet to see. I have a fortnight or more to knock around in. I should
+like to know what the duchess will eventually do."
+
+He sipped the last drop of the cognac and went down the stairs.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. BEHIND THE PUPPET BOOTH
+
+While the absent-minded hunter strode down toward the lower town, and
+Maurice sipped his cognac, the king lay in his bed in the palace and
+aimlessly fingered the counterpane. There was now no beauty in his face.
+It was furrowed and pale, and an endless fever burned in the sunken
+eyes--eyes like coals, which suddenly flare before they turn to ash.
+
+The archbishop nor the chancellor could see anything in the dim corners
+of the royal bed chamber, but he could. It was the mocking finger of
+death, and it was leveled at him. Spring had come, and summer and autumn
+and winter, and spring again, but he had not wandered through the green
+fields, except in dreams, and the byways he loved knew him no more. Ah,
+to sit still like a spectator and to see the world pass by! To be a part
+of it, and yet not of it! To see the glory of strength and vigor just
+beyond one's grasp, the staffs to lean on crumble to the touch, and the
+stars of hope fade away one by one from the firmament of one's dreams!
+Here was weariness for which there was no remedy.
+
+Day by day time pressed him on toward the inevitable. No human hand
+could stay him. He could think, but he could not act. He could move, but
+he could not stand nor walk. And that philosophy which had in other days
+sustained him was shattered and threadbare. He was dead, yet he lived.
+Fate has so many delicate ironies.
+
+He had tried to make his people love him, only to acquire their hate.
+He had reduced taxation, only to be scorned. He had made the city
+beautiful, only to be cursed. A paralytic, the theme of ribald verse,
+the butt of wineroom wits, the object of contumely to his people, his
+beneficiaries!
+
+The ingratitude of kings bites not half so deep as the ingratitude of
+the people. Tears filled his eyes, and he fumbled his lips. There were
+only two bright spots in his futile life. The first was his daughter,
+who read to him, who was the first in the morning to greet him and
+last at night to leave him. The second was the evening hour when the
+archbishop and the chancellor came in to discuss the affairs of state.
+
+"And Prince Frederick has not yet been heard from?" was his first
+inquiry.
+
+"No, Sire," answered the chancellor. "The matter is altogether
+mysterious. The police can find no trace of him. He left Carnavia for
+Bleiberg; he stopped at Ehrenstein, directed his suite to proceed;
+there, all ends. The ambassador from Carnavia approached me to-day. He
+scouts the idea of a peasant girl, and hinted at other things."
+
+"Yes," said the king, "there is something behind all this. Frederick is
+not a youth of peccadilloes. Something has happened to him. But God send
+him safe and sound to us, so much depends on him. And Alexia?"
+
+"Says nothing," the archbishop answered, "a way with her when troubled."
+
+"And my old friend, Lord Fitzgerald?"
+
+The prelate shook his head sadly. "We have just been made acquainted
+with his death. God rest his kindly soul."
+
+The king sank deeper into his pillows.
+
+"But we shall hear from his son within a few days," continued the
+prelate, taking the king's hand in his own. "My son, cease to worry.
+Alexia's future is in good hands. I have confidence that the public debt
+will be liquidated on the twentieth."
+
+"Or renewed," said the chancellor. "Your Majesty must not forget that
+Prince Frederick sacrifices his own private fortune to adjust our
+indebtedness. That is the wedding gift which he offers to her Highness.
+One way or the other, we have nothing to fear."
+
+
+"O!" cried the king, "I had forgotten that magnanimity. His
+disappearance is no longer a mystery. He is dead."
+
+His auditors could not repress the start which this declaration caused
+them to make.
+
+"Sire," said the chancellor, quietly, "princes are not assassinated
+these days. Our worry is perhaps all needless. The prince is young, and
+sometimes youth flings off the bridle and runs away. But he loves her
+Highness, and the Carnavians are not fickle."
+
+The prelate and the statesman had different ideas in regard to the
+peasant girl. To the prelate a woman was an unknown quantity, and he
+frowned. The statesman, who had once been young, knew a deal about
+woman, and he smiled.
+
+"Sometimes, my friends," said the king, "I can see beyond the human
+glance. I hear the crumbling of walls. But for that lonely child I could
+die in peace. The crown I wear is of lead; God hasten the day that lifts
+it from my brow." When the king spoke again, he said: "And that insolent
+Von Rumpf is gone at last? I am easier. He should have been sent about
+his business ten years ago. What does Madame the duchess say?"
+
+"So little," answered the chancellor, "that I begin to distrust her
+silence. But she is a wise woman, though her years are but five and
+twenty, and she will not make any foolish declaration of war which would
+only redound to her chagrin."
+
+"What is the fascination in these crowns of straw?" said the king to the
+prelate. "Ah, my father, you strive for the crown to come; and yet your
+earnest but misguided efforts placed this earthly one on my head. You
+were ambitious for me."
+
+"Nay," and the prelate bent his head. "It was self that spoke, worldly
+aggrandizement. I wished--God forgive me!--to administer not to the
+prince but to the king. I am punished. The crown has broken your life.
+It was the passing glory of the world; and I fell."
+
+"And were not my eyes as dazzled by the crown as yours were by the
+robes? Why did we leave the green hills of Osia? What destiny writes,
+fate must unfold. And oh, the dreams I had of being great! I am
+fifty-eight and you are seventy. And look; I am a broken twig, and you
+tower above me like an ancient oak, and as strong." To the chancellor he
+said: "And what is the budget?"
+
+"Sire, it is fairly quiet in the lower town. The native troops have been
+paid, and all signs of discontent abated. The duchess can do nothing but
+replace von Rumpf. The Marshal is a straw in the wind; von Wallenstein
+and Mollendorf, I hold a sword above their necks. Nearly half the
+Diet is with us. There has been some strange meddling in the customs.
+Englishmen have brought me complaints, through the British legation,
+regarding such inspections as were never before heard of in a country
+at peace. I consulted the chief inspector and he affirmed the matter.
+He was under orders of the minister of police. It appears to me that
+a certain Englishman is to be kept out of the country for reasons well
+known to us. I have suspended police power over the customs. Ah, Sire,
+if you would but agree with Monseigneur to dismiss the cabinet."
+
+"It is too late," said the king.
+
+"There is only one flaw," continued the chancellor. "This flaw is
+Colonel Beauvais, chief in command of the cuirassiers, who in authority
+stands between the Marshal and General Kronau. I fear him. Why?
+Instinct. He is too well informed of my projects for one thing; he
+laughs when I suggest in military affairs. Who is he? A Frenchman, if
+one may trust to a name; an Austrian, if one may trust from whence he
+came, recommended by the premier himself. He entered the cuirassiers as
+a Captain. You yourself, Sire, made him what he is--the real military
+adviser of the kingdom. But what of his past? No one knows, unless it be
+von Wallenstein, his intimate. I, for one, while I may be wrong, trust
+only those whose past I know, and even then only at intervals."
+
+"Colonel Beauvais?" murmured the king. "I am sure that you are unjustly
+suspicious. How many times have I leaned on his stout arm! He taught
+Alexia a thousand tricks of horse, so that to-day she rides as no other
+woman in the kingdom rides. Would that I stood half so straight and
+looked at the world half so fearlessly. He is the first soldier in the
+kingdom."
+
+"All men are honest in your Majesty's eyes," said the archbishop.
+
+"All save the man within me," replied the king.
+
+At this juncture the king's old valet came in with the evening meal; and
+soon after the prelate and the chancellor withdrew from the chamber.
+
+"How long will he live?" asked the latter.
+
+"A year; perhaps only till to-morrow. Ah, had he but listened to me
+several years ago, all this would not have come to pass. He would
+see nothing; he persisted in dreams. With the death of Josef he was
+convinced that his enemies had ceased to be. Had he listened, I should
+have dismissed the cabinet, and found enough young blood to answer
+my purposes; I should have surrounded him with a mercenary army two
+thousand strong; by now he should have stood strongly entrenched.
+
+"They have robbed him, but you and I were permitted to do nothing. Where
+is the prosperity of which we formerly boasted? I, too, hear crumbling
+walls. Yet, the son of this Englishman, whose strange freak is still
+unaccountable, will come at the appointed time; I know the race. He will
+renew the loan for another ten years. What a fancy! Lord Fitzgerald was
+an eccentric man. Given a purpose, he pursued it to the end, neither
+love nor friendship, nor fear swerved him. Do you know that he made
+a vow that Duke Josef should never sit on this throne, nor his
+descendants? What were five millions to him, if in giving them he
+realized the end? The king would never explain the true cause of this
+Englishman's folly, but I know that it was based on revenge, the cause
+of which also is a mystery. If only the prince were here!"
+
+"He will come; youth will be youth."
+
+"Perhaps."
+
+"You have never been young."
+
+"Not in that particular sense to which you refer," dryly.
+
+* * * * * *
+
+In the chamber of finance Colonel Beauvais leaned over the desk and
+perused the writing on a slip of paper which the minister had given him.
+Enough daylight remained to permit the letters to stand out legibly.
+When he had done the Colonel tossed back the missive, and the minister
+tore it into shreds and dropped them into the waste basket.
+
+"So much for your pains," said Beauvais. "The spy, who has eaten up ten
+thousand crowns, is not worth his salt. He has watched this man Hamilton
+for two days, been his guide in the hills, and yet learns nothing. And
+the rigor of the customs is a farce."
+
+"This day," replied the minister, "the police lost its jurisdiction over
+the customs. Complaints have been entered at the British legation, which
+forwarded them to the chancellor."
+
+"O ho!" The Colonel pulled his mustache.
+
+"I warned you against this. The chancellor is a man to be respected,
+whatever his beliefs. I warned you and Mollendorf of the police what the
+result would be. The chancellor has a hard hand when it falls. He was
+always bold; now he is more so since he practically stands alone. In
+games of chance one always should play close. You are in a hurry."
+
+"I have waited six years."
+
+"And I have waited fourteen."
+
+"Well, then, I shall pass into the active. I shall watch this Englishman
+myself. He is likely to prove the agent. Count, the time for waiting
+is gone. If the debt is liquidated or renewed--and there is Prince
+Frederick to keep in mind--we shall have played and lost. Disgrace for
+you; for me--well, perhaps there is a power behind me too strong.
+The chancellor? Pouf! I have no fear of him. But you who laugh at the
+archbishop--"
+
+"He is too old."
+
+"So you say. But he has dreams unknown to us. He has ceased to act;
+why? He is waiting for the curtain to rise. Nothing escapes him; he is
+letting us go to what end we will, only, if we do not act at once,
+to draw us to a sudden halt. Now to this meddling Englishman: we have
+offered him a million--five millions for four. He laughs. He is a
+millionaire. With characteristic bombast he declares that money has no
+charms. For six months, since his father's death, we have hounded him,
+in vain. It is something I can not understand. What is Leopold to these
+Englishmen that they risk a princely fortune to secure him his throne?
+Friendship? Bah, there is none."
+
+"Not in France nor in Austria. But this man was an Englishman; they
+leave legacies of friendship."
+
+The Colonel walked to the window and looked down into the gardens. He
+remained there for a time. Von Wallenstein eyed him curiously. Presently
+the soldier returned to his seat.
+
+"We are crossing a chasm; a man stands in our way; as we can not go
+around him, we, being the stronger, push him aside. Eh?"
+
+"You would not kill--" began the minister.
+
+"Let us use the French meaning of the word `suppress.' And why not?
+Ambition, wherever it goes, leaves a trail of blood. What is a human
+life in this game we play? A leaf, a grain of sand."
+
+"But, since the prince promises to liquidate the debt, what matters it
+if the Englishman comes? It is all one and the same."
+
+"Within twenty, nay, within fifteen days, what may not happen?"
+
+"You are ambitious," said von Wallenstein, slyly.
+
+"And who is not?"
+
+"Is a Marshal's baton so much, then, above your present position? You
+are practically the head of the army."
+
+"A valiant army!" laughing; "five thousand men. Why, Madame the duchess
+has six thousand and three batteries."
+
+"Her army of six thousand is an expedient; you can raise volunteers to
+the amount of ten thousand."
+
+"To be sure I could; but supposing I did not want to?"
+
+The minister dropped his gaze and began fingering the paper cutter. The
+Colonel's real purpose was still an enigma to him. "Come, you have the
+confidence of the king, the friendship of her Royal Highness. What do
+you gain in serving us? The baton?"
+
+"You embarrass me. Questions? I should not like to lie to you. Batons
+were fine things when Louises and Napoleons conferred them. I have
+thrown my dice into the common cup; let that be sufficient."
+
+"A man who comes from a noble house such as you come from--"
+
+"Ah, count, that was never to be referred to. Be content with my brain
+and sword. And then, there is the old saying, Give a man an ell, and
+look to your rod. We are all either jackals or lions, puppets or men
+behind the booth. I am a lion." He rose, drew his saber half-way from
+the scabbard, and sent it slithering back. "In a fortnight we put it
+to the touch to win or lose it all, as the poet says. Every man for
+himself, and let the strongest win, say I."
+
+"You are playing two games," coldly.
+
+"And you? Is it for pure love of Madame the duchess that you risk your
+head? Come, as you say; admit that you wish to see my hand without
+showing yours. A baton is not much for me, as you have hinted, but it is
+all that was promised me. And you, if we win, will still be minister of
+finances? What is that maggot I see behind your eyes? Is it not spelled
+`chancellor'? But, remember, Madame has friends to take care of in
+the event of our success. We can not have all the spoils. To join the
+kingdom and the duchy will create new offices, to be sure, but we can
+have only part of them. As to games, I shall, out of the kindness in my
+heart, tell you that I am not playing two, but three. Guess them if you
+can. Next to the chancellorship is the embassy to Vienna, and an embassy
+to Paris is to be created. Madame is a superior woman. Who knows?" with
+a smile that caused the other to pale.
+
+"You are mad to dream of that."
+
+"As you say, I come of a noble house," carelessly.
+
+"You are mad."
+
+"No, count," the soldier replied. "I have what Balzac calls a thirst for
+a full life in a short space."
+
+"I would give a deal to read what is going on in that head of yours."
+
+"Doubtless. But what is to become of our friends the Marshal and
+Mollendorf? What will be left for them? Perhaps there will be a chamber
+of war, a chamber of the navy. As a naval minister the Marshal would
+be nicely placed. There would be no expense of building ships or paying
+sailors, which would speak well for the economy of the new government.
+The Marshal is old; we shall send him to Servia. At least the office
+will pay both his vanity and purse to an extent equal to that of his
+present office. By the way, nothing has yet been heard from Prince
+Frederick. Ah, these young men, these plump peasant girls!"
+
+Both laughed.
+
+"Till this evening, then;" and the Colonel went from the room.
+
+The minister of finance applied a match to the tapers. He held the
+burning match aloft and contemplated the door through which the soldier
+had gone. The sting of the incipient flame aroused him.
+
+"What," he mused aloud, as he arranged the papers on his desk, "is his
+third game?"
+
+"It appears to me," said a voice from the wall behind, "that the same
+question arises in both our minds."
+
+The minister wheeled his chair, his mouth and brows puckered in dismay.
+From a secret panel in the wall there stepped forth a tall, thin,
+sour-visaged old man of military presence. He calmly sat down in the
+chair which Beauvais had vacated.
+
+"I had forgotten all about you, Marshal!" exclaimed the count, smiling
+uneasily.
+
+"A statement which I am most ready to believe," replied old Marshal
+Kampf, with a glance which caused the minister yet more uneasiness.
+"What impressed me among other things was, `But what is to become of our
+friends the Marshal and Mollendorf?' I am Marshal; I am about to risk
+all for nothing. Why should I not remain Marshal for the remainder of
+my days? It is a pleasant thing to go to Vienna once the year and to
+witness the maneuvers, with an honorary position on the emperor's staff.
+To be Marshal here is to hold a sinecure, yet it has its compensations.
+The uniforms, gray and gold, are handsome; it is an ostrich plume that I
+wear in my chapeau de bras; the medals are of gold. My friend, it is the
+vanity of old age which forgives not." And the Marshal, the bitterest
+tongue in all Bleiberg, reached over and picked up the cigar which lay
+by the inkwells. He lit it at one of the tapers, and sank again into the
+chair. "Count, how many games are you playing?"
+
+"My dear Marshal, it was not I who spoke of games. I am playing no game,
+save for the legitimate sovereign of this kingdom. I ask for no reward."
+
+"Disinterested man! The inference is, however, that, since you have not
+asked for anything, you have been promised something. Confess it, and
+have done."
+
+"Marshal!"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Is it possible that you suspect me?" The cold eyes grew colder, and the
+thin lips almost disappeared.
+
+"When three men watch each other as do Beauvais, Mollendorf and you, it
+is because each suspects the other of treachery. You haven't watched
+me because I am old, but because I am old I have been watching
+you. Mollendorf aspires to greatness, you have your gaze on the
+chancellorship, and curse me if the Colonel isn't looking after my old
+shoes! Am I to give up my uniform, my medals and my plume--for nothing?
+And who the devil is this man Beauvais, since that is not his name? Is
+he a fine bird whose feathers have been plucked?"
+
+The minister did not respond to the question; he began instead to fidget
+in his chair.
+
+"When I gave my word to his Highness the duke, it was without
+conditions. I asked no favors; I considered it my duty. Let us come to
+an understanding. Material comfort is necessary to a man of my age.
+Fine phrases and a medal or two more do not count. I am, then, to go to
+Servia. You were very kind to hide me in your cabinet."
+
+"It was to show you that I had no secrets from you," quickly.
+
+"Let us pass on. Mollendorf is to go to Paris, where he will be a
+nonentity, while in his present office he is a power in the land--Devil
+take me, but it seems to me that we are all a pack of asses! Our gains
+will not be commensurate with our losses. The navy? Well, we'll let that
+pass; the Colonel, I see, loves a joke."
+
+"You forget our patriotism for the true house."
+
+"Why not give it its true name--self-interest?"
+
+"Marshal, in heaven's name, what has stirred your bile?" The minister
+was losing his patience, a bad thing for him to do in the presence of
+the old warrior.
+
+"It is something I've been swallowing this past year." The Marshal
+tipped the ash of his cigar into the waste basket.
+
+"Marshal, will you take the word not of the minister, but of the von
+Wallenstein, that whatever my reward shall be for my humble services,
+yours shall not be less?"
+
+"Thanks, but I have asked for no reward. If I accepted gain for what I
+do, I should not be too old to blush."
+
+"I do not understand."
+
+"Self-interest blinds us. I have nothing but pity for this king whose
+only crime is an archbishop; and I can not accept gain at his expense; I
+should blush for shame. Had I my way, he should die in peace. He has
+not long to live. The archbishop--well, we can not make kings, they are
+born. But there is one thing more: Over all your schemes is the shadow
+of Austria."
+
+"Austria?"
+
+"Yes. The Colonel speaks of a power behind him. Bismarck looks
+hungrily toward Schleswig-Holstein. Austria casts amorous eyes at us.
+A protectorate? We did not need it. It was forced on us. When Austria
+assumed to dictate to us as to who should be king, she also robbed us of
+our true independence. Twenty years ago there was no duchy; it was all
+one kingdom. Who created this duchy when Albrecht came on the throne?
+Austria. Why? If we live we shall read." He rose, shook his lean legs.
+"I have been for the most part neutral. I shall remain neutral. There is
+an undercurrent on which you have failed to reckon. Austria, mistress
+of the confederation. There are two men whom you must watch. One is the
+archbishop."
+
+"The archbishop?" The minister was surprised that the Marshal should
+concur with the Colonel. "And the other?"
+
+"Your friend the Colonel," starting for the door.
+
+The minister smiled. "Will you not dine with me?" he asked.
+
+"Thanks. But I have the Servian minister on my hands to-night. A propos,
+tell the Colonel that I decline Belgrade. I prefer to die at home." And
+he vanished.
+
+Von Wallenstein reviewed the statements of both his visitors.
+
+"I shall watch Monseigneur the archbishop." Then he added, with a
+half-smile: "God save us if the Marshal's sword were half so sharp as
+his tongue! It was careless of me to forget that I had shut him up in
+the cabinet."
+
+Meanwhile Beauvais walked slowly toward his quarters, with his saber
+caught up under his arm. Once he turned and gazed at the palace, whose
+windows began to flash with light.
+
+"Yes, they are puppets and jackals, and I am the lion. For all there
+shall serve my ends. I shall win, and when I do--" He laughed silently.
+"Well, I am a comely man, and Madame the duchess shall be my wife."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. MADEMOISELLE OF THE VEIL
+
+The public park at night was a revelation to Maurice, who, lonely and
+restless, strolled over from the hotel in quest of innocent amusement.
+He was none the worse for his unintended bath; indeed, if anything,
+he was much the better for it. His imagination was excited. It was not
+every day that a man could, at one and the same time, fall out of a boat
+and into the presence of a princess of royal blood.
+
+He tried to remember all he had said to her, but only two utterances
+recurred to him; yet these caused him an exhilaration like the bouquet
+of old wine. He had told her that she was beautiful, indirectly, it was
+true; she had accepted his friendship, also indirectly, it was true. Now
+the logical sequence of all this was--but he broke into a light laugh.
+What little vanity he possessed was without conceit. Princesses of royal
+blood were beyond the reach of logical sequence; and besides, she was to
+be married on the twentieth of the month.
+
+He followed one of the paths which led to the pavilion. It was a
+charming scene, radiant with gas lamps, the vivid kaleidoscope of gowns
+and uniforms. Beautiful faces flashed past him. There were in the air
+the vague essences of violet, rose and heliotrope. Sometimes he caught
+the echo of low laughter or the snatch of a gay song. The light of
+the lamps shot out on the crinkled surface of the lake in tongues of
+quivering flame, which danced a brave gavot with the phantom stars; and
+afar twinkled the dipping oars. The brilliant pavilion, which rested
+partly over land and partly over water, was thronged.
+
+The band was playing airs from the operas of the day, and Maurice
+yielded to the spell of the romantic music. He leaned over the pavilion
+rail, and out of the blackness below he endeavored to conjure up the
+face of Nell (or was it Kate?) who had danced with him at the embassies
+in Vienna, fenced and ridden with him, till--till--with a gesture of
+impatience he flung away the end of his cigar.
+
+Memory was altogether too elusive. It was neither Nell nor Kate he
+saw smiling up at him, nor anybody else in the world but the Princess
+Alexia, whose eyes were like wine in a sunset, whose lips were as red
+as the rose of Tours in France, and whose voice was sweeter than that
+throbbing up from the 'cello. If he thought much more of her, there
+would be a logical sequence on his side. He laughed again--with an
+effort--and settled back in his chair to renew his interest in the
+panorama revolving around him.
+
+"They certainly know how to live in these countries," he thought,
+"for all their comic operas. All I need, to have this fairy scene made
+complete, is a woman to talk to. By George, what's to hinder me from
+finding one?" he added, seized by the spirit of mischief. He turned
+his head this way and that. "Ah! doubtless there is the one I'm looking
+for."
+
+Seated alone at a table behind him was a woman dressed in gray. Her
+back was toward him, but he lost none of the beautiful contours of her
+figure. She wore a gray alpine hat, below the rim of which rebellious
+little curls escaped, curls of a fine red-brown, which, as they trailed
+to the nape of the firm white neck, lightened into a ruddy gold. Her
+delicate head was turned aside, and to all appearances her gaze was
+directed to the entrance to the pavilion. A heavy blue veil completely
+obscured her features; though Maurice could see a rose-tinted ear and
+the shadow of a curving chin and throat, which promised much. To a man
+there is always a mystery lurking behind a veil. So he rose, walked past
+her, returned and deliberately sat down in the chair opposite to hers.
+The fact that gendarmes moved among the crowd did not disturb him.
+
+"Good evening, Mademoiselle," he said, politely lifting his hat.
+
+She straightened haughtily. "Monsieur," she said, resentment,
+consternation and indignation struggling to predominate in her tones, "I
+did not give you permission to sit down. You are impertinent!"
+
+"O, no," Maurice declared. "I am not impertinent. I am lonesome. In all
+Bleiberg I haven't a soul to talk to, excepting the hotel waiters, and
+they are uninteresting. Grant me the privilege of conversing with you
+for a moment. We shall never meet again; and I should not know you if we
+did. Whether you are old or young, plain or beautiful, it matters not.
+My only wish is to talk to a woman, to hear a woman's voice."
+
+"Shall I call a gendarme, Monsieur, and have him search for your nurse?"
+The attitude which accompanied these words was anything but assuring.
+
+He, however, evinced no alarm. He even laughed. "That was good! We shall
+get along finely, I am sure."
+
+"Monsieur," she said, rising, "I repeat that I do not desire your
+company, nor to remain in the presence of your unspeakable effrontery."
+
+"I beseech you!" implored Maurice, also rising. "I am a foreigner,
+lonesome, unhappy, thousands of miles from home--"
+
+"You are English?" suddenly. She stood with the knuckle of her
+forefinger on her lips as if meditating. She sat down.
+
+Maurice, greatly surprised, also sat down.
+
+"English?" he repeated. His thought was: "What the deuce! This is the
+third time I have been asked that. Who is this gay Lothario the women
+seem to be expecting?" To her he continued: "And why do you ask me
+that?"
+
+"Perhaps it is your accent. And what do you wish to say to me,
+Monsieur?" It was a voice of quality; all the anger had gone from it.
+She leaned on her elbows, her chin in her palms, and through the veil
+he caught the sparkle of a pair of wonderful eyes. "Let us converse in
+English," she added. "It is so long since I have had occasion to speak
+in that tongue." She repeated her question.
+
+"O, I had no definite plan outlined," he answered; "just generalities,
+with the salt of repartee to season." He pondered over this sudden
+transition from wrath to mildness. An Englishman? Very well; it might
+grow interesting.
+
+"Is it customary among the English to request to speak to strangers
+without the usual formalities of an introduction?"
+
+"I can not say that it is," he answered truthfully enough; "but the
+procedure is never without a certain charm and excitement."
+
+"Ah; then you were led to address me merely by the love of adventure?"
+
+"That is it; the love of adventure. I should not have spoken to you had
+you not worn the veil." He remarked that her English was excellent.
+
+"You differ from the average Englishman, who is usually wrapt up
+in himself and has no desire to talk to strangers. You have been a
+soldier."
+
+The evolutions of his cane ceased. "How in the world did you guess
+that?" surprised beyond measure.
+
+"Perhaps there is something suggestive in your shoulders."
+
+He tried to peer behind the veil, but in vain. "Am I speaking to one I
+have met before?"
+
+"I believe not; indeed, sir, I am positive."
+
+"I have been a soldier, but my shoulders did not tell you that."
+
+"Perhaps I have the gift of clairvoyance," gazing again toward the
+entrance.
+
+"Or perhaps you have been to Vienna."
+
+"Who knows? Most Englishmen are, or have been, soldiers."
+
+"That is true." Inwardly, "There's my friend the Englishman again. She's
+guessing closer than she knows. Curious; she has mistaken me for some
+one she does not know, if that is possible." He was somewhat in a
+haze. "Well, you have remarkable eyes. However, let us talk of a more
+interesting subject; for instance, yourself. You, too, love adventure,
+that is, if I interpret the veil rightly."
+
+"Yes; I like to see without being seen. But, of course, behind this love
+of adventure which you possess, there is an important mission."
+
+"Ah!" he thought; "you are not quite sure of me." Aloud, "Yes, I came
+here to witness the comic opera."
+
+"The comic opera? I do not understand?"
+
+"I believed there was going to be trouble between the duchy and the
+kingdom, but unfortunately the prima donna has refused the part."
+
+"The prima donna!" in a muffled voice. "Whom do you mean?"
+
+"Son Altesse la Grande Duchesse! 'Voici le sabre de mon pere!'" And he
+whistled a bar from Offenbach, his eyes dancing.
+
+"Sir!--I!--you do wrong to laugh at us!" a flash from the half-hidden
+eyes.
+
+"Forgive me if I have offended you, but I--"
+
+"Ah, sir, but you who live in a powerful country think we little folk
+have no hearts, that we have no wrongs to redress, no dreams of conquest
+and of power. You are wrong."
+
+"And whose side do you defend?"
+
+"I am a woman," was the equivocal answer.
+
+"Which means that you are uncertain."
+
+"I have long ago made up my mind."
+
+"Wonderful! I always thought a woman's mind was like a time-table,
+subject to change without notice. So you have made up your mind?"
+
+"I was born with its purpose defined," coldly.
+
+"Ah, now I begin to doubt."
+
+"What?" with a still lower degree of warmth.
+
+"That you are a woman. Only goddesses do not change their
+minds--sometimes. Well, then you are on the weaker side."
+
+"Or the stronger, since there are two sides."
+
+"And the stronger?" persistently.
+
+"The side which is not the weaker. But the subject is what you English
+call 'taboo.' It is treading on delicate ground to talk politics in the
+open--especially in Bleiberg."
+
+"What a diplomat you would make!" he cried with enthusiasm. Certainly
+this was a red-letter day in his calendar. This adventure almost
+equalled the other, and, besides, in this instance, his skin was dry; he
+could enjoy it more thoroughly. Who could this unknown be? "If only you
+understood the mystery with which you have enshrouded yourself!"
+
+"I do." She drew the veil more firmly about her chin.
+
+"Grant me a favor."
+
+"I am talking to you, sir."
+
+This candor did not disturb him. "The favor I ask is that you will lift
+the corner of your veil; otherwise you will haunt me."
+
+"I am doomed to haunt you, then. If I should lift the corner of my veil
+something terrible would happen."
+
+"What! Are you as beautiful as that?"
+
+There was a flash of teeth behind the veil, followed by the ripple of
+soft laughter. "It is difficult to believe you to be English. You are
+more like one of those absurd Americans."
+
+Maurice did not like the adjective. "I am one of them," wondering what
+the effect of this admission would be. "I am not English, but of the
+brother race. Forgive me if I have imposed on you, but it was your
+fault. You said that I was English, and I was too lonesome to enlighten
+you."
+
+"You are an American?" She began to tap her gloved fingers against the
+table.
+
+"Yes."
+
+Then, to his astonishment, she gave way to laughter, honest and hearty.
+"How dense of me not to have known the moment you addressed me! Who
+but the American holds in scorn custom's formalities and usages? Your
+grammar is good, so good that my mistake is pardonable. The American is
+always like the terrible infant; and you are a choice example."
+
+Maurice was not so pleased as he might have been. His ears burned.
+Still, he went forward bravely. "A man never pretends to be an
+Englishman without getting into trouble."
+
+"I did not ask to speak to you. No one ever pretends to be an American.
+Why is it you are always ashamed of your country?" with malice
+aforethought.
+
+Maurice experienced the sting of many bees. "I see that your experience
+is limited to impostors. I, Mademoiselle, am proud of my country, the
+great, free land which stands aside from the turmoil and laughs at your
+petty squabbles, your kings, your princes. Laugh at me; I deserve it for
+not minding my own business, but do not laugh at my country." His face
+was flushed; he was almost angry. It was not her words; it was the
+contempt with which she had invested them. But immediately he was
+ashamed of his outburst. "Ah, Mademoiselle, you have tricked me; you
+have found the vulnerable part in my armor. I have spoken like a child.
+Permit me to apologize for my apparent lack of breeding." He rose,
+bowed, and made as though to depart.
+
+"Sit down, Monsieur," she said, picking up her French again. "I forgive
+you. I do more; I admire. I see that your freak had nothing behind it
+but mischief. No woman need fear a man who colors when his country is
+made the subject of a jest."
+
+All his anger evaporated. This was an invitation, and he accepted it. He
+resumed his seat.
+
+"The truth is, as I remarked, I was lonesome. I know that I have
+committed a transgression, but the veil tempted me."
+
+"It is of no matter. A few moments, and you will be gone. I am waiting
+for some one. You may talk till that person comes." Her voice was now
+in its natural tone; and he was convinced that if her face were half
+as sweet, she must possess rare beauty. "Hush!" as the band began to
+breathe forth Chopin's polonaise. They listened until the music ceased.
+
+"Ah!" said he rapturously, "the polonaise! When you hear it, does there
+not recur to you some dream of bygone happy hours, the sibilant murmur
+of fragrant night winds through the crisp foliage, the faint call
+of Diana's horn from the woodlands, moon-fairies dancing on the
+spider-webs, the glint of the dew on the roses, the far-off music of the
+surges tossing impotently on the sands, the forgetfulness of time and
+place and care, and not a cloud 'twixt you and the heavens? Ah, the
+polonaise!"
+
+"Surely you must be a poet!" declared the Veil, when this panegyric was
+done.
+
+"No," said he modestly, "I never was quite poor enough for that exalted
+position." He had recovered his good humor.
+
+"Indeed, you begin to interest me. What is your occupation when not in
+search of--comic operas?"
+
+"I serve Ananias."
+
+"Ananias?" A pause. "Ah, you are a diplomat?"
+
+"How clever of you to guess."
+
+"Yours is a careless country," observed the Veil.
+
+"Careless?" mystified.
+
+"Yes, to send forth her green and salad youth. Eh, bien! There are
+hopes for you. If you live you will grow old; you will become bald and
+reserved; you will not speak to strangers, to while away an idle hour;
+for permit me, Monsieur, who am wise, to tell you that it is a dangerous
+practice."
+
+"And do I look so very young?"
+
+"Your beard is that of a boy."
+
+"David slew Goliath."
+
+"At least you have a ready tongue," laughing.
+
+"And you told me that I had been a soldier."
+
+But to this she had nothing to say.
+
+"I am older than you think, Mademoiselle of the Veil. I have been a
+soldier; I have seen hard service, too. Mine is no cushion sword. Youth?
+'Tis a virtue, not a crime; and, besides, it is an excellent disguise."
+
+For some time she remained pensive.
+
+"You are thinking of something, Mademoiselle."
+
+"Do you like adventure?"
+
+"I subsist on it."
+
+"You have been a soldier; you are, then, familiar with the use of arms?"
+
+"They tell me so," modestly. What was coming?
+
+"I have some influence. May I trust you?"
+
+"On my honor," puzzled, yet eager.
+
+"There may be a comic opera, as you call it. War is not so impossible as
+to be laughed at. The dove may fly away and the ravens come."
+
+"Who in thunder might this woman be?" he thought.
+
+"And," went on the Veil, "an extra saber might be used. Give me your
+address, in case I should find it necessary to send for you."
+
+Now Maurice was a wary youth. Under ordinary circumstances he would have
+given a fictitious address to this strange sybil with the prophecy of
+war; for he had accosted her only in the spirit of fun. But here was the
+key which he had been seeking, the key to all that had brought him to
+Bleiberg. Intrigue, adventure, or whatever it was, and to whatever end,
+he plunged into it. He drew out a card case, selected a card on which he
+wrote "Room 12, Continental," and passed it over the table. She read it,
+and slipped it into her purse.
+
+Maurice thought: "Who wouldn't join the army with such recruiting
+officers?"
+
+While the pantomime took place, a man pushed by Maurice's chair and
+crossed over to the table recently occupied by him. He sat down, lit
+a short pipe, rested his feet on the lowest rung of the ladder-like
+railing, and contemplated the western hills, which by now were enveloped
+in moon mists. Neither Maurice nor his mysterious vis-a-vis remarked
+him. Indeed, his broad back afforded but small attraction. And if he
+puffed his pipe fiercely, nobody cared, since the breeze carried the
+smoke waterward.
+
+After putting the card into her purse, Mademoiselle of the Veil's gaze
+once more wandered toward the entrance, and this time it grew fixed.
+Maurice naturally followed it, and he saw a tall soldier in fatigue
+dress elbowing his way through the crush. Many moved aside for him;
+those in uniform saluted.
+
+"Monsieur," came from behind the veil, "you may go now. I dismiss you.
+If I have need of you I promise to send for you."
+
+He stood up. "I thank you for the entertainment and the promise you
+extend. I shall be easily found," committing himself to nothing. "I
+suppose you are a person of importance in affairs."
+
+"It is not unlikely. I see that you love adventure for its own sake,
+for you have not asked me if it be the duchy or the kingdom. Adieu,
+Monsieur," with a careless wave of the gray-gloved hand. "Adieu!"
+
+He took his dismissal heroically and shot a final glance at the
+approaching soldier. His brows came together.
+
+"Where," he murmured, "have I seen that picturesque countenance before?
+Not in Europe; but where?" He caught the arm of a passing gendarme. "Who
+is that gentleman in fatigue uniform, coming this way?"
+
+"That, Monsieur," answered the gendarme in tones not unmixed with awe,
+"is Colonel Beauvais of the royal cuirassiers."
+
+"Thanks.... Beauvais; I do not remember the name. Truly I have had
+experiences to-day. And for what house is Mademoiselle of the Veil?
+Ravens? War? `Voici le sabre de mon pyre!'" and with a gay laugh he went
+his way.
+
+Meanwhile Colonel Beauvais arrived at the table, tipped his hat to the
+Veil, who rose and laid a hand on his arm. He guided her through the
+pressing crowds.
+
+"Ah, Madame," he said, "you are very brave to choose such a rendezvous."
+
+"Danger is a tonic to the ill-spirited," was the reply.
+
+"If aught should happen to you--"
+
+"It was in accord with her wishes that I am here. She suffers from
+impatience; and I would risk much to satisfy her whims."
+
+"So would I, Madame; even life." There was a tremor of passion in his
+voice, but she appeared not to notice it. "Here is a nook out of the
+lights; we may talk here with safety."
+
+"And what is the news?" she asked.
+
+"This: The man remains still in obscurity. But he shall be found.
+Listen," and his voice fell into a whisper.
+
+"Austria?" Mademoiselle of the Veil pressed her hands together in
+excitement. "Is it true?"
+
+"Did I not promise you? It is so true that the end is in sight.
+Conspiracy is talked openly in the streets, in the cafes, everywhere.
+The Osians will be sand in the face of a tidal wave. A word from me,
+and Kronau follows it. It all would be so easy were it not for the
+archbishop."
+
+"The archbishop?" contemptuously.
+
+"Ay, Madame; he is a man so deep, with a mind so abyssmal, that I would
+give ten years of my life for a flash of his thoughts. He has some
+project; apparently he gives his whole time to the king. He loves this
+weak man Leopold; he has sacrificed the red hat for him, for the
+hat would have taken him to Italy, as we who procured it intended it
+should."
+
+"The archbishop? Trust me; one month from now he will be recalled. That
+is the news I have for you."
+
+"You have taken a weight from my mind. What do you think in regard to
+the rumor of the prince and the peasant girl?"
+
+"It afforded me much amusement. You are a man of fine inventions."
+
+"Gaze toward the upper end of the pavilion, the end which we have
+just left. Yes--there. I am having the owner of those broad shoulders
+watched. That gendarme leaning against the pillar follows him wherever
+he goes."
+
+"Who is he?"
+
+"That I am trying to ascertain. This much--he is an Englishman."
+
+Mademoiselle of the Veil laughed. "Pardon my irrelevancy, but the
+remembrance of a recent adventure of mine was too strong."
+
+
+
+Maurice could not regain his interest in the scene. He strolled in and
+out of the moving groups, but no bright eyes or winning smiles allured
+him. Impelled by curiosity, he began to draw near the shadowed nook.
+Curiosity in a journalist is innate, and time nor change can efface
+it. Curiosity in those things which do not concern us is wrong. Ethics
+disavows the practice, though philosophy sustains it. Perhaps in this
+instance Maurice was philosophical, not ethical. Perhaps he wanted
+to hear the woman's voice again, which was excusable. Perhaps it was
+neither the one nor the other, but fate, which directed his footsteps.
+Certain it is that the subsequent adventures would never have happened
+had he gone about his business, as he should have done.
+
+"Who is this who stares at us?" asked Beauvais, with a piercing glance
+and a startled movement of his shoulders.
+
+"A disciple of Pallas and a pupil of Mars," was the answer. "I have been
+recruiting, Colonel. There is sharpness sometimes in new blades. Do not
+draw him with your eyes."
+
+The Colonel continued his scrutiny, however, and there was an ugly
+droop at the corners of his mouth, though it was partly hidden under his
+mustache.
+
+Maurice, aware that he was not wanted, passed along, having in mind to
+regain his former seat by the railing.
+
+"Colonel," he mused, "your face grows more familiar every moment. It was
+not associated with agreeable things. But, what were they? Hang it! you
+shall have a place in my thoughts till I have successfully labeled you.
+Humph! Some one seems to have appropriated my seat."
+
+He viewed with indecision the broad back of the interloper, who at that
+moment turned his head. At the sight of that bronzed profile Maurice
+gave an exclamation of surprise and delight. He stepped forward and
+dropped his hand on the stranger's shoulder.
+
+"John Fitzgerald, or henceforth garlic shall be my salad!" he cried in
+loud, exultant tones.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. SOME DIALOGUE, A SPRAINED ANKLE, AND SOME SOLDIERS
+
+The stranger returned Maurice's salute with open-mouthed dismay; the
+monocle fell from his eye, he grasped the table with one hand and
+pushed back the chair with the other, while Maurice heard the name of an
+exceedingly warm place.
+
+The gendarme, who was leaning against the pillar, straightened, opened
+his jaws, snapped them, and hurried off.
+
+"Maurice--Maurice Carewe?" said the bewildered Englishman.
+
+"No one else, though I must say you do not seem very glad to see me,"
+Maurice answered, conscious that he was all things but welcome.
+
+"Hang you, I'm not!" incogitantly.
+
+"Go to the devil, then!" cried Maurice, hotly.
+
+"Gently," said Fitzgerald, catching Maurice by the coat and pulling him
+down into a chair. "Confound you, could you not have made yourself known
+to me without yelling my name at the top of your voice?"
+
+"Are you ashamed of it?" asked Maurice, loosing his coat from
+Fitzgerald's grip.
+
+"I'm afraid of it," the Englishman admitted, in a lowered voice. "And
+your manly, resonant tones have cast it abroad. I am here incognito."
+
+"Who the deuce are you?"
+
+"I am Don Jahpet of Armenia; that is to say that I am a marked man. And
+now, as you would inelegantly express it, you have put a tag on me. When
+I left you in Vienna the other day I lied to you. I am sorry. I should
+have trusted you, only I did not wish you to risk your life. You would
+have insisted on coming along."
+
+"Risked my life?" echoed Maurice. "How many times have I not risked
+it? By the way," impressed by a sudden thought, "are you the Englishman
+every one seems to be expecting?"
+
+"Yes." Fitzgerald knocked his pipe against the railing. "I am the man.
+Worse luck! Was any one near when you called me by name?"
+
+"Only one of those wooden gendarmes."
+
+"Only one of those wooden gendarmes!" ironically. "Only one of those
+dogs who have been at my heels ever since I arrived. And he, having
+heard, has gone back to his master. Well, since you have started the
+ball rolling, it is no more than fair that you should see the game to
+its end."
+
+"What's it all about?" asked Maurice, his astonishment growing and
+growing.
+
+"Where are your rooms?"
+
+"You have something important to tell me?"
+
+"Perhaps you may think so. At the Continental? Come along."
+
+They passed out of the pavilion, along the path to the square, thence to
+the terrace of the Continental, which they mounted. Not a word was said,
+but Maurice was visibly excited, and by constant gnawing ruined his
+cigar. He conducted his friend to the room on the second floor, the
+window of which opened on a private balcony. Here he placed two chairs
+and a small table; and with a bottle of tokayer between them they seated
+themselves.
+
+"What's it all about?"
+
+"O, only a crown and a few millions in money."
+
+"Only a crown and a few millions in money," repeated Maurice very
+slowly, for his mind could scarcely accept Fitzgerald and these two
+greatest treasures on earth.
+
+A gendarme had leisurely followed them from the park. He took aside a
+porter and quietly plied him with questions. Evidently the answers were
+satisfactory, for he at once departed.
+
+Maurice stared at the Englishman.
+
+"Knocks you up a bit, eh?" said Fitzgerald. "Well, I am rather surprised
+myself; that is to say, I was."
+
+"Fire away," said Maurice.
+
+"To begin with, if I do not see the king to-morrow, it is not likely
+that I ever shall."
+
+"The king?"
+
+"My business here is with his Majesty."
+
+Maurice filled the glasses and pushed one across the table.
+
+"Here's!" said he, and gulped.
+
+Fitzgerald drank slowly, however, as if arranging in his mind the
+salient points in his forthcoming narrative.
+
+"I have never been an extraordinarily communicative man; what I shall
+tell you is known only to my former Colonel and myself. At Calcutta,
+where you and I first met, I was but a Lieutenant in her Majesty's.
+To-day I am burdened with riches such as I know not how to use, and
+possessor of a title which sounds strange in my ears."
+
+The dim light from the gas-jet in the room flickered over his face, and
+Maurice saw that it was slightly contorted, as if by pain.
+
+"My father was Lord Fitzgerald."
+
+"What!" cried Maurice, "the diplomat, the historian, the millionaire?"
+
+"The same. Thirteen years ago we parted--a misunderstanding. I never saw
+him again. Six months ago he died and left me a fortune, a title and a
+strange legacy; and it is this legacy which brings me to Bleiberg. Do
+you know the history of Leopold?"
+
+"I do. This throne belongs to the house of Auersperg, and the Osian
+usurps. The fact that the minister of the duchess has been discredited
+was what brought me here. Continue."
+
+And Fitzgerald proceeded briefly to acquaint the other with the strange
+caprice of his father; how, when he left Bleiberg, he had been waylaid
+and the certificates demanded; how he had entrusted them to his valet,
+who had gone by another route; how the duke had sought him in Vienna and
+made offers, bribes and threats; how he had laughed at all, and sworn
+that Duke Josef should never be a king.
+
+"My father wished to save Leopold in spite of himself; and then, he had
+no love for Josef. At a dinner given at the legation, there was among
+others a toast to her Majesty. The duke laughed and tossed the wine
+to the floor. It lost him his crown, for my father never forgave
+the insult. When the duke died, his daughter took up the work with
+surprising vigor. It was all useless; father was a rock, and would
+listen neither to bribes nor threats. Now they are after me. They have
+hunted me in India, London, and Vienna. I am an obscure soldier, with
+all my titles and riches; they threaten me with death. But I am here,
+and my father's wishes shall be carried out. That is all. I am glad that
+we have come together; you have more invention than I have."
+
+"But why did you come yourself? You could have sent an agent. That would
+have been simple."
+
+"An agent might be bought. It was necessary for me to come. However,
+I might have waited till the twentieth. I should have come openly and
+informed the British minister of my mission. As to the pheasants, they
+could have waited. Perhaps my fears are without foundation, unless you
+have been the unconscious cause of my true name being known. Every one
+has heard the story. It is known as 'Fitzgerald's folly,' and has gone
+the rounds of the diplomatic circles for ten years. I shall ask for an
+audience to-morrow morning."
+
+"And these certificates fall due the same day that the princess is to be
+married," mused his auditor. "What a yarn for the papers!" his love of
+sensation being always close to the surface. "Your father, you say, took
+four million crowns; what became of the fifth?"
+
+"The duke was permitted to secure that."
+
+"A kind of court plaster for his wounds, eh? Why don't you get that
+other million and run the kingdom yourself? It's a great opportunity."
+Maurice laughed.
+
+"Her Royal Highness must not be forgotten. My father thought much of
+her."
+
+"But really I do not see why you are putting yourself to all this
+trouble. The king will pay off the indebtedness; the kingdom is said to
+be rich, or Austria wouldn't meddle with it."
+
+"The king, on the twentieth of this month, will be some three millions
+short."
+
+"And since he can not pay he is bankrupt. Ah, I see the plan. The duke
+knew that he wouldn't be able to pay."
+
+"You have hit it squarely."
+
+"But Austria, having placed Leopold here, is his sponsor."
+
+"Austria has too many debts of her own; she will have to disavow her
+protege, which is a fact not unthought of by the house of Auersperg.
+By constant machination and intrigue the king's revenues have been so
+depleted that ordinary debts are troublesome. The archbishop, to stave
+off the probable end, brought about the alliance between the houses
+of Carnavia and Osia. My business here is to arrange for a ten years'
+renewal of the loan, and that is what the duchess wishes to prevent, mon
+ami. What's to become of the king and his daughter if aught in the way
+of mishap should befall me? I have not seen the king, but I have seen
+her Royal Highness."
+
+"What is she like?" Maurice asked, innocently. He saw no reason why he
+should confide to the Englishman his own adventure.
+
+"I'm not much of a judge," said Fitzgerald cautiously. "I have lived
+most of my life in cantonments where women were old and ran mostly to
+tongue. I should say that she is beautiful." A short sigh followed this
+admission.
+
+"Ah!" said Maurice with a loud laugh to cover the sudden pang of
+jealousy which seized him; "in gratitude for saving her father's throne
+the daughter will fall in love with you. It is what the dramatist calls
+logical sequence."
+
+"Why don't you write novels? Your imagination has no bounds."
+
+"Writing novels is too much like work. But I'm serious. Your position in
+the world to-day is nearly equal to hers, and certainly more secure. Ah,
+yes; I must not forget that prince. He's a lucky dog--and so are you,
+for that matter. Millions and titles! And I have slapped you cavalierly
+on the back, smoked your cigars, drunk your whisky, and beaten you at
+poker!" comically.
+
+"Ah, Maurice, it is neither wealth nor titles; it is freedom. I am like
+a boy out of school for good and all. Women, the society of women, who
+are the salt of earth; that is what I want. I have knocked out thirteen
+years of my life in furnace holes, and have not met nor spoken to a
+dozen young women in all that time. How I envy you! You know every
+one; you have seen the world; you are at home in Paris, or London, or
+Vienna; you have enjoyed all I wish to enjoy."
+
+"Why did you ever get into the army?"
+
+"You ought to know."
+
+"But it was bread and butter to me."
+
+"Well, I was young; I saw fame and glory. If the matter under hand is
+closed to-morrow, what do you say to the Carpathians and bears? I shall
+not remain here; some one will be looking for blood. What do you say?"
+
+"I don't know," said Maurice, thoughtfully. He was thinking of
+Mademoiselle of the Veil and her prophecy of ravens. "I don't know that
+I shall be able. It is my opinion that your part in the affair is only
+a curtain-raiser to graver things. Every one of importance in town goes
+about with an air of expectancy. I never saw anything like it. It is the
+king, the archbishop and the chancellor against two hundred thousand.
+You're a soldier; can't you smell powder?"
+
+"Powder! You do not believe the duchess mad enough to wage war?"
+
+"Trust a woman to do what no one dreams she will."
+
+"But Austria would be about her ears in a minute!"
+
+"Maybe. Have you seen this Colonel Beauvais of the royal cuirassiers,
+the actual head of the army here?"
+
+"A fine soldier," said the Englishman, heartily. "Rides like a centaur
+and wields a saber as if it were a piece of straw."
+
+"I can hold a pretty good blade myself; I've an idea that I can lick him
+at both games."
+
+Fitzgerald laughed good-naturedly. "There is the one flaw in your
+make-up. I admit your horsemanship; but the saber! Believe me, it is
+only the constant practice and a wrist of iron which make the saber
+formidable. You are more familiar with the pen; I dare say you could
+best him at that."
+
+"What makes you think I can not lick him?"
+
+"Since when have the saber and the civilian been on terms? And these
+continental sabers are matchless, the finest in the world. I trust you
+will steer clear of the Colonel; if you have any challenge in mind,
+spring it on me, and I'll let you down easy." Then: "Why the devil do
+you want to lick him, anyway?"
+
+"I don't know," said Maurice. "I had a close range to-night, and somehow
+the man went against the grain. Well, Jack, I'll stay with you in this
+affair, though, as the county judge at home would say, it's out of my
+circuit."
+
+They shook hands across the table.
+
+"Come," said Fitzgerald; "a toast, for I must be off."
+
+"What do you say to her Royal Highness?"
+
+"Let us make it general: to all women!"
+
+They set down the glasses and shook hands again.
+
+"It seemed good to run across you in Vienna, Maurice. You were one of
+the bright spots in the old days."
+
+"Do you want me to walk with you to the Grand? It's a fine night," said
+Maurice, waving his hand toward the moon. "By George, what a beautiful
+place this end of Bleiberg is! I do not wonder that the duchess covets
+it."
+
+"No, I'll go alone. All I have to do is to march straight up the
+Strasse."
+
+"Well, good-night and good luck to you," said Maurice, as he led the
+Englishman into the hallway. "Look me up when you have settled the
+business. I say, but it gets me; it's the strangest thing I ever heard."
+And he waited till the soldierly form disappeared below the landing.
+
+Then he went back to his chair on the balcony to think it over. At four
+o'clock that afternoon he had grumbled of dullness. He lit a pipe,
+and contemplated the soft and delicate blues of earth and heaven, the
+silvery flashes on the lake, and the slim violet threads of smoke
+which wavered about his head. It was late. Now and then the sound of a
+galloping horse was borne up by the breeze, and presently Maurice
+heard the midnight bell boom forth from the sleepy spires of the
+cathedral--where the princess was to be married.
+
+One by one the lamps of the park went out, but the moon shone on,
+lustrous and splendid. First he reviewed his odd adventure in the
+archbishop's gardens. He had spoken to princesses before, but they were
+women of the world, hothouse roses that bloom and wither in a short
+space. The atmosphere which surrounded this princess was idyllic,
+pastoral. She had seen nothing of the world, its sports and pastimes,
+and the art of playing at love was unknown to her. Again he could see
+her serious eyes, the delicate chin and mouth, the oval cheeks, and the
+dog that followed in her steps. Here was an indelible picture which time
+could never efface. Something stirred in his heart, and he sighed.
+
+And ah, the woman in the veil! Who could she be? The more he thought of
+her the more convinced he was that she stood high in the service of
+any one but Leopold of Osia. And Fitzgerald! That sober old soldier
+concerned with crowns and millions! It was incredible; it was almost
+laughable. They had met up-country in India, and had hunted, and Maurice
+had saved the Englishman's life. Occasionally they had corresponded.
+
+"Well, to bed," said the young diplomat. "This has been a full day."
+And, like the true newspaper man he was, for all his diplomacy, he
+emptied the bottle and entered the room. He was about to disrobe, when
+some one rapped on the door. He opened it, and beheld a man in the
+livery of the Grand Hotel. He was breathing hard.
+
+"Herr Carewe?"
+
+"Yes. What's wanted?"
+
+"Herr Hamilton--"
+
+"Hamilton? O, yes. Go on."
+
+"Herr Hamilton bade me to tell your Excellency that in returning to the
+hotel he sprained his ankle, and wishes to know if Herr would not be so
+kind as to spend the night with him."
+
+"Certainly. Run down to the office, and I shall be with you shortly."
+Again alone, Maurice opened his trunk. He brought forth a pint flask
+of brandy, some old handkerchiefs to be used as bandages, and a box of
+salve he used for bruises when on hunting expeditions. In turning over
+his clothes his hand came into contact with his old army revolver. He
+scratched his head. "No, it's too much like a cannon, and there's no
+room for it in my pockets." He pushed it aside, rose and slammed the lid
+of the trunk. "Sprained his ankle? He wasn't gone more than an hour. How
+the deuce is he to see the king to-morrow? Probably wishes to appoint me
+his agent. That's it. Very well." He proceeded to the office, where he
+found the messenger waiting for him. "Come on, and put life into your
+steps."
+
+Together they traversed the moonlit thoroughfare. Few persons were
+astir. Once the night patrol clattered by. They passed through the
+markets, and not far ahead they could see the university. It looked like
+a city prison.
+
+"This is the hotel, Herr," said the messenger.
+
+They entered. Maurice approached the proprietor, who was pale and
+flurried; but as Maurice had never seen the natural repose of his
+countenance, he thought nothing of it.
+
+"My friend, Herr Hamilton, has met with an accident. Where is his room?"
+
+"Number nine; Johann will show you." He acted as if he had something
+more to say, but a glance from the round-faced porter silenced him.
+Maurice lost much by not seeing this glance. He followed the messenger
+up the stairs.
+
+There were no transoms. The corridor was devoid of illumination. The
+porter struck a match and held it close to the panel of a door under
+which a thread of light streamed.
+
+"This is it, Herr," he bawled, so loudly that Maurice started.
+
+"There was no need of waking the dead to tell me," he growled.
+
+The door opened, and before Maurice could brace himself--for the
+interior of the room made all plain to him--he was violently pushed over
+the threshold on to his knees. He was up in an instant. The room was
+filled with soldiers, foot soldiers of the king, so it seemed.
+
+"What the devil is this?" he demanded, brushing his knees and cursing
+himself because he had not brought his Colt when fate had put it almost
+in his hand.
+
+"It is a banquet, young man. We were waiting for the guest of honor."
+
+Maurice turned to the speaker, and saw a medium-sized man with gray
+hair and a frosty stubble of a mustache. He wore no insignia of office.
+Indeed, as Maurice gazed from one man to the next he saw that there
+were no officers; and it came to him that these were not soldiers of the
+king. He was in a trap. He thought quickly. Fitzgerald was in trouble,
+perhaps on his account. Where was he?
+
+"I do not see my friend who sprained his ankle," he said coolly.
+
+This declaration was greeted with laughter.
+
+"Evidently I have entered the wrong room," he continued imperturbably.
+He stepped toward the door, but a burly individual placed his back to
+it.
+
+"Am I a prisoner, or the victim of a practical joke?"
+
+"Either way," said the man with the frosty mustache.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"You have recently formed a dangerous acquaintance, and we desire to aid
+you in breaking it."
+
+"Are you aware, gentlemen--no, I don't mean gentlemen--that I am
+attached to the American legation in Vienna, and that my person is
+inviolable?"
+
+Everybody laughed again--everybody but Maurice.
+
+"Allow me to correct you," put in the elderly man, who evidently was
+the leader in the affair. "You are not attached; you are detached.
+Gentlemen, permit me, M. Carewe, detache of the American legation in
+Vienna, who wishes he had stayed there."
+
+Maurice saw a brace of revolvers on the mantel. The table stood between.
+
+"Well," he said, banteringly, "bring on your banquet; the hour is late."
+
+"That's the way; don't lose your temper, and no harm will come to you."
+
+"What do you wish of me?"
+
+"Merely the pleasure of your company. Lieutenant, bring out the
+treasure."
+
+One of the soldiers entered the next room and soon returned pushing
+Fitzgerald before him. The Englishman was bound and gagged.
+
+"How will you have the pheasant served?" asked the leader.
+
+"Like a gentleman!" cried Maurice, letting out a little of his anger.
+"Take out the gag; he will not cry."
+
+The leader nodded, and Fitzgerald's mouth was relieved. He spat some
+blood on the carpet, then looked at his captors, the devil in his eyes.
+
+"Proceed to kill me and have done," he said.
+
+"Kill you? No, no!"
+
+"I advise you to, for if you do not kill me, some day I shall be free
+again, and then God help some of you."
+
+Maurice gazed at the candles on the table, and smiled.
+
+"I'm sorry they dragged you into it, Maurice," said Fitzgerald.
+
+"I'm glad they did. What you want is company." There was a glance, swift
+as light. It went to the mantel, then passed to the captive. "Well,"
+said Maurice, "what is next on your damned program?"
+
+"The other side of the frontier."
+
+"Maybe," said Maurice.
+
+With an unexpected movement he sent the table over, the lights went
+out; and he had judged the distance so accurately that he felt his hands
+close over the revolvers.
+
+"The door! the door!" a voice bawled. "Knock down any one who attempts
+to pass."
+
+This was precisely what Maurice desired. With the soldiers massed about
+the door, he would be free to liberate Fitzgerald; which he did. He
+had scarcely completed the task, when a flame spurted up. The leader
+fearlessly lit a candle and righted the table. He saw both his
+prisoners, one of them with extended arms, at the ends of which
+glistened revolver barrels.
+
+"The devil!" he said.
+
+"Maybe it is," replied Maurice. "Now, my gay banqueteers, open the door;
+and the first man who makes a suspicious movement will find that I'm a
+tolerable shot."
+
+"Seize him, your Excellency!" shouted one of the troopers. "Those are my
+revolvers he has, and they are not loaded."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. THE RED CHATEAU
+
+Two o'clock in the morning, on the king's highway, and a small body of
+horse making progress. The moon was beginning to roll away toward the
+west, but the world was still frost-white, and the broad road stretched
+out like a silver ribbon before the horsemen, until it was lost in the
+blue mist of the forests.
+
+The troop consisted of ten men, two of whom rode with their hands tied
+behind their backs and their feet fastened under the bellies of the
+horses. The troop was not conspicuous for this alone. Three others had
+their heads done up in handkerchiefs, and a fourth carried his arm in a
+sling.
+
+Five miles to the rear lay the sleeping city of Bleiberg, twenty miles
+beyond rose the formidable heights of the Thalians. At times the horses
+went forward at a gallop, but more often they walked; when they galloped
+the man with his arm in the sling complained. Whenever the horses
+dropped into a walk, the leader talked to one of the prisoners.
+
+"You fight like the very devil, my friend," he said; "but we were
+too many by six. Mind, I think none the less of you for your attempt;
+freedom is always worth fighting for. As I said before, no harm is meant
+to you, physically; as to the moral side, that doesn't concern me. You
+have disabled four of my men, and have scarcely a dozen scratches to
+show for it. I wanted to take only four men with me; I was ordered to
+take eight. The hand of providence is in it."
+
+"You wouldn't be so polite, Colonel," spoke up the trooper whose arm was
+in the sling, "if you had got this crack."
+
+"Baron, who told you to call me Colonel?" the leader demanded.
+
+"Why, we are out of the city; there's no harm now that I can see."
+
+"Is it possible," said Maurice ironically, "that I have had the honor of
+hitting a baron on the head and breaking his arm?"
+
+The baron muttered a curse and fell back.
+
+"And you," went on Maurice, addressing the leader, "are a Colonel?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"For the duchess?"
+
+"For the duchess."
+
+"A black business for you, Colonel; take my word for it."
+
+"A black business it is; but orders are orders. Have you ever been a
+soldier?"
+
+"I have."
+
+"Well, there's nothing more to be said."
+
+"America--" Maurice began.
+
+"Is several thousand miles away."
+
+"Not if you reckon from Vienna."
+
+"I'd rather not reckon, if it's all the same to you. Your friend--I
+might say, your very valuable friend--takes the matter too much to
+heart."
+
+"He's not a talkative man."
+
+Fitzgerald looked straight ahead, stern and impassive.
+
+"But now that we are talking," said Maurice, "I should like to know how
+the deuce you got hold of my name and dragged me into this affair?"
+
+"Simple enough. A card of yours was given to me; on it was your name and
+address. The rest was easy."
+
+Maurice grew limp in the saddle.
+
+"By George! I had forgotten! The woman is at the bottom of it."
+
+"Quite likely. I thought you'd come to that conclusion. Sometimes when
+we play with foxes they lead us into bear traps. Young man, witness
+these gray hairs; never speak to strange women, especially when they
+wear veils."
+
+Fitzgerald was now attending the conversation.
+
+"And who is this woman?" asked Maurice.
+
+"Mademoiselle of the Veil, according to your picturesque imagination; to
+me she is the intimate friend and adviser of her Highness Stephonia." He
+wheeled to the troopers with a laugh: "Hoch, you beggars, hoch!"
+
+Maurice indulged in some uncomplimentary remarks, among which was: "I'm
+an ass!"
+
+"Every man improves on making that discovery; the Darwinian theory is
+wrong."
+
+After a pause Maurice said: "How did you get on the ground so quickly?"
+
+"We arrived yesterday afternoon as the escort of your charmer. A pretty
+woman finds it troublesome to travel alone in these parts. When you
+slapped your friend on the back and bawled out his name--a name known
+from one end of the kingdom to the other--the plan of action was
+immediately formed. You were necessary, for it was taken for granted
+that you knew too much. You had also promised your sword," with a
+chuckle.
+
+"I made no promise," said Maurice. "I only said that I should easily be
+found when wanted."
+
+"Well, so you were; there's no gainsaying that."
+
+Maurice said some more uncomplimentary things.
+
+"It was neatly done, you will admit. Life is a game of cards; he wins
+who plays first."
+
+"Or he doesn't. Colonel, a game is won only when it is played'."
+
+"That's true enough."
+
+"Kings are a tolerable bother on earth," Maurice declared, trying to
+ease his wrists by holding them higher against his back.
+
+"What do you know about them?"
+
+"When I was in the army I often fell in with three or four of a night."
+
+"Eh?--kings?"
+
+"Yes; but usually I was up against aces or straight flushes."
+
+"Cards! Well, well; when you get down to the truth of the matter, real
+kings differ but little from the kings in pasteboard; right side up, or
+wrong side up, they serve the purpose of those who play them. There's a
+poor, harmless devil back there," with a nod toward Bleiberg. "He never
+injured a soul. Perhaps that's it; had he been cruel, avaricious, sly,
+all of them would be cringing at his feet. Devil take me--but I'm a
+soldier," he broke off abruptly; "it's none of my business."
+
+"Have you any titles?" Maurice asked presently.
+
+"Titles?" The Colonel jerked around on his horse. "Why?"
+
+"O," said Maurice carelessly, "I thought it not unlikely that you might
+have a few lying around loose."
+
+The Colonel roared. "You Americans beat the very devil with your
+questions. Well, I am politely known as Count Mollendorf, if that will
+gratify you."
+
+"What! brother of Mollendorf of the king's police?"
+
+"God save the mark! No; I am an honest man--some of the time."
+
+Maurice laughed; the old fellow was amusing, and besides, this
+conversation helped to pass away the time.
+
+"Wake up, Jack; here's entertainment," he said.
+
+A scowl added itself to the stern expression on Fitzgerald's face.
+
+"I trust that none of your teeth are loose," ventured the Colonel.
+
+"If they are, they'll be tight enough ere many days have passed," was
+the threatening reply.
+
+"Beware the dog!" cried the Colonel, and he resumed his place at the
+head of the little troop.
+
+Maurice took this opportunity to bend toward Fitzgerald. "Have you
+anything of importance about you?" he whispered significantly.
+
+"Nothing. But God send that no chambermaid change the sheet in my bed at
+the hotel."
+
+"Are they--"
+
+"Silence." Fitzgerald saw the trooper next with his hand to his ear.
+
+After a time the Colonel sang out: "Fifteen miles more, with three on
+the other side, men; we must put more life into us. A trot for a few
+miles. The quicker the ride is done, baron, the quicker the surgeon will
+look to your arm."
+
+And silence fell upon the troop. Occasionally a stray horse in the
+fields whinneyed, and was answered from the road; sometimes the howl of
+a dog broke the monotony. On and on they rode; hour and mile were left
+behind them. The moon fell lower and lower, and the mountains rose
+higher and higher, and the wind which had risen had a frosty sting to
+it. Maurice now began to show the true state of his temper by cursing
+his horse whenever it rubbed against one of its fellows. His back was
+lame, and there was a dull pain in one of his shoulders. When he had
+made the rush for the door, clubbing right and left with the empty
+revolvers, he had finally been thrown on an overturned chair.
+
+"Here, hang you!" he said to the trooper who held the bridle of his
+horse, "I'm cold; you might at least turn up my collar about my throat."
+
+"You are welcome to my cloak," said the trooper, disengaging that
+article from his shoulders.
+
+"Thank you," said Maurice, somewhat abashed by the respectful tone.
+
+The trooper offered his blanket to Fitzgerald.
+
+"I wish no favors," said the Englishman, thanklessly.
+
+The trooper shrugged, and caught up Maurice's bridle.
+
+At length the troop arrived at the frontier. There was no sign of life
+at the barrack. They passed unchallenged.
+
+"What!" exclaimed Maurice, "do they sleep here at night, then? A fine
+frontier barrack." He had lived in hopes of more disturbance and a
+possible chance for liberty.
+
+"They will wake up to-day," answered the Colonel; "that is, if the wine
+we gave them was not too strong. Poor devils; they must be good and cold
+by this time, since we have their clothes. What do you think of a king
+whose soldiers drink with any strangers who chance along?"
+
+Maurice became resigned. To him the present dynasty was as fragile as
+glass, and it needed but one strong blow to shatter it into atoms. And
+the one hope rode at his side, sullen and wrathful, but impotent; the
+one hope the king had to save his throne. He had come to Bleiberg in
+search of excitement, but this was altogether more than he had bargained
+for.
+
+The horses began to lift and were soon winding in and out of the narrow
+mountain pass. The chill of the overhanging snows fell upon them.
+
+"It wouldn't have hurt you to accept the blanket," said Maurice to
+Fitzgerald.
+
+"Curse it! I want nothing but two minutes freedom. It would be warm
+enough then."
+
+"No confidences, gentlemen," warned the Colonel; "I understand English
+tolerably well."
+
+"Go to the devil, then, if you do!" said Fitzgerald discourteously.
+
+"When the time comes," tranquilly. "Of the two I like your friend
+the better. To be resigned to the inevitable is a sign of good mental
+balance."
+
+"I am not used to words," replied the Englishman.
+
+"You are used to orders. I am simply obeying mine. If I took you off
+your guard it was because I had to, and not because I liked that method
+best. Look alive, men; it's down hill from now on."
+
+A quarter of an hour later the troop arrived at the duchy's frontier
+post. There was no sleep here. The Colonel flung himself from his horse
+and exercised his legs.
+
+"Sergeant," he said, "how far behind the others?"
+
+"They passed two hours ago, Excellency. And all is well?" deferentially.
+
+"All is indeed well," with a gesture toward the prisoners.
+
+"I've a flask of brandy in my hip pocket," said Maurice. "Will you help
+me to a nip, Colonel?"
+
+"Pardon me, gentlemen; I had forgotten that your hands were still in
+cords. Corporal," to a trooper, "relieve their hands."
+
+The prisoners rubbed their wrists and hands, which were numb and cold.
+Maurice produced his flask.
+
+"I was bringing it along for your sprained ankle," he said, as he
+extended the flask to Fitzgerald, who drank a third of it. "I'd offer
+you some, Colonel, only it would be like heaping coals of fire on your
+head; and, besides, I want it all myself." He returned the emptied flask
+to his pocket, feeling a moderate warmth inside.
+
+"Drink away, my son," said the Colonel, climbing into the saddle;
+"there'll be plenty for me for this night's work. Forward!"
+
+The troop took up the march again, through a splendid forest kept clear
+of dead wood by the peasants. It abounded with game. The shrill cry of
+the pheasants, the rustle of the partridges in the underbrush, the bark
+of the fox, all rose to the ears of the trespassers. The smell of warm
+earth permeated the air, and the sky was merging from silver into gold.
+
+When Napoleon humiliated Austria for the second time, one of his
+mushroom nobles, who placed too much faith in the man of destiny,
+selected this wooded paradise as a residence. He built him a fine castle
+of red brick, full of wide halls and drawing rooms and chambers of
+state, and filled it with fabulous paintings, Gobelin tapestries, and
+black walnut wainscot. He kept a small garrison of French soldiers
+by converting the huge stables partly into a barrack. One night the
+peasantry rose. There was a conflict, as the walls still show; and the
+prince by patent fled, no one knew where. After its baptism in blood
+it became known far and wide as the Red Chateau. Whenever children were
+unruly, they were made docile by threats of the dark dungeons of the Red
+Chateau, or the ghosts of the French and German peasants who died there.
+As it now stood, it was one of the summer residences of her Highness.
+
+It was here that the long night's journey came to an end.
+
+"Gentlemen," said the Colonel, dismounting, "permit me, in the name of
+her Highness, to offer you the hospitality of Red Chateau. Consider;
+will you lighten my task by giving me your word of honor to make no
+attempt to escape? Escape is possible, but not probable. There are
+twenty fresh men and horses in the stables. Come, be reasonable. It will
+be pleasanter on both sides."
+
+"So far as I'm concerned," said Maurice, who needed liberty not half so
+much as sleep, "I pass my word."
+
+"And you, sir?" to Fitzgerald.
+
+Fitzgerald gazed about him. "Very well," he said, as he saw the futility
+of a struggle.
+
+"Your humble servant, Messieurs," touching his cap. "Take the ropes off
+their ankles, men."
+
+When Maurice was lifted from his horse and placed on the ground, his
+legs suddenly bent under him, and he went sprawling to the grass. A
+trooper sprang to his assistance.
+
+"My legs have gone to sleep!"
+
+The Englishman was affected likewise, and it was some moments before
+either could walk. They were conducted to a chamber high up in the left
+wing, which overlooked the forest and the mountains. It was a large airy
+room, but the windows were barred and there were double locks on the
+doors. The Colonel followed them into the room and pointed to the table.
+
+"Breakfast, Messieurs, and a good sleep for you till this noon. As for
+the rest, let that take care of itself." And he left them.
+
+Maurice, after having tried all the bars and locks in answer to his
+conscience, gave his attention to the breakfast. On lifting the covers
+he found fish, eggs, toast and coffee.
+
+"Here's luck!" he cried. "We were expected."
+
+"Curse it, Maurice!" Fitzgerald began pacing the room.
+
+"No, no," said Maurice; "let us eat it; that's what it's here for," and
+he fell to with that vigor known only to healthy blood.
+
+"But what's to be done?"
+
+"Follow Solomon's advice, and wait."
+
+"You're taking it cursed cool."
+
+"Force of habit," breaking the toast. "What's the use of wasting powder?
+Because I have shown only the exterior, our friend the Colonel has
+already formed an opinion of me. I am brave if need be, but young and
+careless. In a day or so--for I suppose we are not to be liberated at
+once--he'll forget to use proper caution in respect to me. And then,
+'who can say?' as the Portuguese says when he hasn't anything else to
+say. They'll keep a strict watch over you, my friend, because you've
+played the lion too much. Just before I left the States, as you call
+them, a new slang phrase was going the rounds;--'it is better to play
+the fox some of the time than to roar all of the time.' Ergo, be foxy.
+Take it cool. So long as you haven't got that mint packed about your
+person, the game breaks even."
+
+"But the king!"
+
+"Is as secure on his throne as he ever was. If you do not present those
+consols, either for renewal or collection, on the twentieth, he loses
+nothing. As you said, let us hope that the chambermaid is a shifty,
+careless lass, who will not touch your room till you return." Maurice
+broke an egg and dropped a lump of sugar into his cup.
+
+"Is this the way you fight Indians?"
+
+"Indians? What the deuce has fighting Indians to do with this? As to
+Indians, shoot them in the back if you can. Here, everything depends not
+on fighting but the right use of words. A man may be a diplomat and
+not render his country any large benefit; still, it's a fine individual
+training. Thrones stand on precipices and are pushed back to safety by
+the trick of a few words. Have an egg; they're fresh."
+
+Fitzgerald sat down and gulped his coffee. "They broke my monocle in the
+struggle."
+
+Maurice choked in his cup.
+
+"I've worn it twelve years, too," went on Fitzgerald.
+
+"Everything is for the best," said Maurice. "You will be able to see out
+of both eyes."
+
+"Confound you!" cried Fitzgerald, smiling in spite of himself; "nothing
+will disturb you."
+
+"You mean, nothing shall. Now, there's the bed and there's the lounge.
+Since you are the principal, that is to say, the constituent part of
+this affair, and also the principal actor in this extravaganza, suppose
+you take the bed and leave me the lounge? And the deuce take the
+duchess, who is probably a woman with a high forehead and a pair of
+narrow eyes!" He threw down his napkin and made for the lounge, without
+giving any particular attention to the smile and frown which were
+struggling in the Englishman's eyes. In less than a minute Maurice was
+dozing.
+
+Fitzgerald thought that the best thing he could do was to follow the
+philosophical example of his friend. "These Americans," he mused, as he
+arranged the pillow under his ear, "are `fifteen puzzles'; you can move
+them, or you can't."
+
+As for Maurice, he was already dreaming; he was too tired to sleep.
+Presently he thought he was on a horse again, and was galloping,
+galloping. He was heading his old company to the very fringe of the
+alkali. The Apaches had robbed the pay train and killed six men, and
+the very deuce was to pay all around.... Again he was swimming, and a
+beautiful girl reached out a hand and saved him. Ah! how beautiful she
+was, how soft and rich the deep brown of her eyes!... The scene shifted.
+The president of the South American republic had accepted his sword
+(unbeknown to the United States authorities), and he was aiding to quell
+the insurrection. And just then some one whispered to him that gold
+would rise fifty points. And as he put out his hands to gather in the
+glittering coins which were raining down, the face of Colonel Beauvais
+loomed up, scowling and furious.... And yet again came the beautiful
+girl. He was holding her hand and the archbishop had his spread out in
+benediction over their heads.... A hand, which was not of dreamland,
+shook him by the arm. He opened his eyes. Fitzgerald was standing over
+him. The light of the sun spangled the walls opposite the windows. The
+clock marked the eleventh hour of day.
+
+"Hang you!" he said, with blinking eyes; "why didn't you let me be?
+I was just marrying the princess, and you've spoiled it all. I--" He
+jumped to his feet and rubbed his eyes, and, forgetful of all save his
+astonishment, pursed his lips into a low whistle.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. NOTHING MORE SERIOUS THAN A HOUSE PARTY
+
+Standing just within the door, smiling and rubbing the gray bristles
+on his lip, was the Colonel. In the center of the room stood a
+woman dressed in gray. Maurice recognized the dress; it belonged to
+Mademoiselle of the Veil, who was now sans veil, sans hat. A marvelous
+face was revealed to Maurice, a face of that peculiar beauty which poets
+and artists are often minded to deny, but for the love of which men die,
+become great or terrible, overturn empires and change the map of the
+world.
+
+Her luxuriant hair, which lay in careless masses about the shapely head
+and intelligent brow, was a mixture of red and brown and gold, a variety
+which never ceases to charm; skin the pallor of ancient marble, with
+the shadow of rose lying below the eyes, the large, gray chatoyant
+eyes, which answered every impulse of the brain which ruled them. The
+irregularity of her features was never noticeable after a glance into
+those eyes. At this moment both eyes and lips expressed a shade of
+amusement.
+
+Maurice, who was astonished never more than a minute at a time,
+immediately recovered. His toilet was somewhat disarranged, and the back
+of his head a crow's nest, but, nevertheless, he placed a hand over his
+heart and offered a low obeisance.
+
+"Good morning, gentlemen," she said, in a voice which Maurice would
+have known anywhere. "I hope the journey has caused you no particular
+annoyance."
+
+"The annoyance was not so particular, Madame," said Fitzgerald stiffly,
+"as it was general."
+
+"And four of my troopers will take oath to that!" interjected the
+Colonel.
+
+"Will Madame permit me to ask when will the opera begin?" asked Maurice.
+
+"I am glad," said she, "that you have lost none of your freshness."
+
+Maurice was struck for a moment, but soon saw that the remark was
+innocent of any inelegance of speech. Fitzgerald was gnawing his
+mustache and looking out of the corner of his eyes--into hers.
+
+"My task, I confess, is a most disagreeable one," she resumed, lightly
+beating her gauntlets together; "but when one serves high personages one
+is supposed not to have any sentiments." To Fitzgerald she said: "You
+are the son of the late Lord Fitzgerald."
+
+"For your sake, I regret to say that I am."
+
+"For my sake? Worry yourself none on that point. As the agent of her
+Highness I am inconsiderable."
+
+"Madame," said Maurice, "will you do us the honor to inform us to whom
+we are indebted for this partiality to our distinguished persons?"
+
+"I am Sylvia Amerbach," quietly.
+
+"Amerbach?" said Maurice, who was familiar with the great names of the
+continent. "Pardon me, but that was once a famous name in Prussia."
+
+"I am distantly related to that house of princes," looking at her
+gauntlets.
+
+"Well, Madame, since your business doubtless concerns me, pray, begin;"
+and Fitzgerald leaned against the mantelpiece and fumbled with the rim
+of his monocle.
+
+Maurice walked to one of the windows and perched himself on the broad
+sill. He began to whistle softly:
+
+Voici le sabre de mon pere! Tu vas le mettre a ton cote....
+
+Beyond the window, at the edge of the forest, he saw a sentinel pacing
+backward and forward. Indeed, no matter which way he looked, the
+autumnal scenery had this accessory. Again, he inspected the bars. These
+were comparatively new. It was about thirty feet to the court below. On
+the whole, the outlook was discouraging.
+
+"Count," said the distant relative of the house of Amerbach, "how shall
+I begin?"
+
+"I am not a diplomat, Madame," answered the Colonel. "If, however, you
+wish the advice of a soldier, I should begin by asking if my lord the
+Englishman has those consols about his person."
+
+"Fie, count!" she cried, laughing; "one would say that was a prelude to
+robbery."
+
+"So they would. As for myself, I prefer violence to words. If we take
+these pretty papers by violence, we shall still have left our friend
+the Englishman his self-respect. And as for words, while my acquaintance
+with our friend is slight, I should say that they would only be wasted
+here."
+
+The whistle from the window still rose and fell.
+
+"Monsieur, I have it in my power to make you rich."
+
+"I am rich," replied Fitzgerald.
+
+"In honors?"
+
+"Madame, the title I have is already a burden to me." Fitzgerald
+laughed, which announced that the cause of the duchess was not getting
+on very well. Once or twice he raised the tortoiseshell rim to his eye,
+but dropped it; force of habit was difficult to overcome.
+
+"Your father nourished a particular rancor against the late duke."
+
+"And justly, you will admit."
+
+"Her Highness has offered you five millions for slips of paper worth no
+more than the ink which decorates them."
+
+"And I have refused. Why? Simply because the matter does not rest with
+me. You have proceeded with a high hand, Madame, or rather your duchess
+has. Nothing will come of it. Had there been any possibility of my
+considering your proposals, this kidnaping would have destroyed it."
+
+She smiled. Maurice saw the smile and stopped whistling long enough to
+scratch his chin, which was somewhat in need of a razor. He had
+seen many women smile that way. He had learned to read it. It was an
+inarticulate "perhaps."
+
+"The rightful successor to the throne--"
+
+"Is Madame the duchess," Fitzgerald completed. "I haven't the slightest
+doubt of that. One way or the other, it does not concern me. I came here
+simply to fulfill the wishes of my father; and my word, Madame, fulfill
+them I shall. You are holding me a prisoner, but uselessly. On the
+twentieth the certificates fall due against the government. If they are
+not presented either for renewal or collection, the bankruptcy scheme of
+your duchess will fall through just the same. I will tell you the
+truth, Madame. My father never expected to collect the moneys so long as
+Leopold sat on the throne."
+
+The whistle grew shrill.
+
+"This officer here," continued Fitzgerald, while the Colonel made a
+comical grimace, "suggests violence. I shall save him the trouble. I
+have seen much of the world, Madame--the hard side of it--and, knowing
+it as I do, it is scarcely probable that I should carry about my person
+the equivalent of four millions of crowns."
+
+"Well, Madame," said the Colonel, pushing his belt closer about his
+hips, as a soldier always does when he is on the point of departure,
+"what he says is true, every word of it. I see nothing more to do at
+present."
+
+Mademoiselle of the Veil was paying not so much attention to the
+Colonel's words as she was to Maurice's whistle.
+
+"Monsieur," she said, coldly, "have you no other tune in your
+repertory?"
+
+"Pardon me!" exclaimed Maurice. "I did not intend to annoy you." He
+stepped down out of the window.
+
+"You do not annoy me; only the tune grows rather monotonous."
+
+"I will whistle anything you may suggest," he volunteered.
+
+She did not respond to this flippancy, though the pupils of her gray
+eyes grew large with anger. She walked the length of the room and back.
+
+"Count, what do you think would be most satisfactory to her Highness,
+under the circumstances?"
+
+"I have yet to hear of her Highness' disapproval of anything you
+undertake."
+
+"Messieurs, your parole d'honneur, and the freedom of the chateau is
+yours--within the sentry lines. I wish to make your recollections of the
+Red Chateau rather pleasant than otherwise. I shall be most happy if you
+will honor my table with your presence."
+
+The Colonel coughed, Maurice smoothed the back of his head, and
+Fitzgerald caught up his monocle.
+
+"My word, Madame," said Maurice, "is not worth much, being that of
+a diplomat, but such as it is it is yours. However, my clothes are
+scarcely presentable," which was true enough. Several buttons were
+missing, and the collar hung by a thread.
+
+"That can be easily remedied," said she. "There are several new hussar
+uniforms in the armory."
+
+"O, Madame, and you will permit me to wear one of those gay uniforms of
+light blue and silver lace?"
+
+The Colonel looked thoughtfully at Maurice. He was too much a banterer
+himself to miss the undercurrent of raillery. He eyed Madame discreetly;
+he saw that she had accepted merely the surface tones.
+
+"And you will wear one, too, Jack?" said Maurice.
+
+"No, thank you. I pass my word, Madame; I do not like confinement."
+
+"Well, then, the count will shortly return and establish you in better
+quarters. Let us suppose you are my guests for a--a fortnight. Since
+both of us are right, since neither your cause nor mine is wrong,
+an armistice! Ah! I forgot. The east corridor on the third floor is
+forbidden you. Should you mistake and go that way, a guard will direct
+you properly. Messieurs, till dinner!" and with a smile which illumined
+her face as a sudden burst of sunshine flashes across a hillside, she
+passed out of the room, followed by her henchman, who had not yet put
+aside the thoughtful repose of his countenance.
+
+"A house party," said Maurice, when he could no longer hear their
+footsteps. "And what the deuce have they got so valuable in the east
+corridor on the third floor?"
+
+"It's small matter to me," said Fitzgerald tranquilly. "The main fact is
+that she has given up her game."
+
+Said Maurice, his face expressing both pity and astonishment: "My dear,
+dear John! Didn't you see that woman's eyes, her hair, her chin, her
+nose?"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"True; you haven't had any experience with petticoats. This woman will
+rend heaven and earth rather than relinquish her projects, or rather
+those of her mistress. I should like to see this duchess, who shows a
+fine discernment in the selection of her assistants. Beware of the
+woman who is frankly your enemy. If she is frank, it is because she is
+confident of the end; if not, she is frank in order to disarm us of the
+suspicion of cunning. I would give much to know the true meaning of this
+house party."
+
+"Hang me if I can see what difference it makes. She can not do anything
+either by frankness or by cunning."
+
+"She gathered us in neatly, this red-haired Amazon."
+
+"Red-haired!" in a kind of protest.
+
+"Why, yes; that's the color, isn't it?" innocently.
+
+"I thought it a red-brown. It's too bad that such a woman should be
+mixed up in an affair like this."
+
+"Woman will sacrifice to ambition what she never will sacrifice to love.
+Hush; I hear the Colonel returning."
+
+They were conducted to the opposite wing of the chateau, to a room on
+the second floor. Its windows afforded an excellent view of the land
+which lay south. Hills rolled away like waves of gold, dotted here and
+there with vineyards. Through the avenue of trees they could see the
+highway, and beyond, the river, which had its source in the mountains
+ten miles eastward.
+
+The room itself was in red, evidently a state chamber, for it contained
+two canopied beds. Several fine paintings hung from the walls, and
+between the two windows rose one of those pier glasses which owe their
+existence to the first empire of France. On one of the beds Maurice saw
+the hussar uniform. On the dresser were razors and mugs and a pitcher of
+hot water.
+
+"Ah," he said, with satisfaction.
+
+"The boots may not fit you," said the Colonel, "but if they do not we
+will manage some way."
+
+"I shall not mind the fortnight," said Maurice. "By the way, Colonel, I
+notice that French seems to prevail instead of German. Why is that?"
+
+"It is the common language of politeness, and servants do not understand
+it. As for myself, I naturally prefer the German tongue; it is blunt
+and honest and lacks the finesse of the French, which is full of evasive
+words and meanings. However, French predominates at court. Besides,
+heaven help the foreigner who tries to learn all the German tongues to
+be found in the empires of the Hohenzollern and Hapsburg. Luncheon will
+be served to you in the dining hall; the first door to the right at
+the foot of the grand staircase. I shall send you a trooper to act as
+valet."
+
+"Spare me, Colonel," said Maurice, who did not want any one between him
+and the Englishman when they were alone.
+
+"I have never had a valet," said Fitzgerald; "he would embarrass me."
+
+"As you please," said the Colonel, a shade of disappointment in his
+tones. "After all, you are soldiers, where every man is for himself.
+Make yourselves at home;" and he withdrew.
+
+Maurice at once applied lather and razor, and put on the handsome
+uniform, which fitted him snugly. The coat was tailless, with rows of
+silver buttons running from collar to waist. The breast and shoulders
+and sleeves were covered with silver lace, and Maurice concluded that it
+must be nothing less than a captain's uniform. The trousers were tight
+fitting, with broad stripes of silver; and the half boots were of patent
+leather. He walked backward and forward before the pier-glass.
+
+"I say, Fitz, what do you think of it?"
+
+"You're a handsome rascal, Maurice," answered the Englishman, who had
+watched his young friend, amusement in his sober eyes. "Happily, there
+are no young women present."
+
+"Go to! I'll lay odds that our hostess is under twenty-five."
+
+"I meant young women of sixteen or seventeen. Women such as Madame have
+long since passed the uniform fever."
+
+"Not when it has lace, my friend, court lace. Well, forward to the
+dining hall."
+
+Both were rather disappointed to find that Madame would be absent until
+dinner. Fitzgerald could not tell exactly why he was disappointed, and
+he was angry with himself for the vague regret. Maurice, however, found
+consolation in the demure French maid who served them. Every time he
+smiled she made a courtesy, and every time she left the room Maurice
+nudged Fitzgerald.
+
+"Smile, confound you, smile!" he whispered. "There's never a maid but
+has her store of gossip, and gossip is information."
+
+"Pshaw!" said Fitzgerald, helping himself to cold ham and chicken.
+
+"Wine, Messieurs?" asked the maid.
+
+"Ah, then Madame offers the cellars?" said Maurice.
+
+"Yes, Messieurs. There is chambertin, champagne, chablis, tokayer and
+sherry."
+
+"Bring us some chambertin, then."
+
+"Oui, Messieurs."
+
+"Hurry along, my Hebe," said Maurice.
+
+The maid was not on familiar terms with the classics, but she told the
+butler in the pantry that the smooth-faced one made a charming Captain.
+
+"Keep your eyes open," grumbled the butler; "he'll be kissing you next."
+
+"He might do worse," was the retort. Even maids have their mirrors, and
+hers told a pretty story. When she returned with the wine she asked:
+"And shall I pour it, Messieurs?"
+
+"No one else shall," declared Maurice. "When is the duchess to arrive?"
+
+"I do not know, Monsieur," stepping in between the chairs and filling
+the glasses with the ruby liquid.
+
+"Who is Madame Sylvia Amerbach?"
+
+"Madame Sylvia Amerbach," placing the bottle on the table and going to
+the sideboard. She returned with a box of "Khedives."
+
+Fitzgerald laughed at Maurice's disconcertion.
+
+"Where has Madame gone?"
+
+"To the summer home of Countess Herzberg, who is to return with Madame."
+
+"Oho!" cried Maurice, in English. "A countess! What do you say to that,
+my Englishman?"
+
+"She is probably old and plain. Madame desires a chaperon."
+
+"You forget that Madame desires nothing but those certificates. And the
+chaperon does not live who could keep an eye on Madame Sylvia Amerbach."
+
+The mention of the certificates brought back all the Englishman's
+discomfort, and he emptied his glass of wine not as a lover of good wine
+should. Soon they rose from the table. The maid ran to the door and held
+it open. Fitzgerald hurried through, but Maurice lingered a moment. He
+put his hand under the porcelain chin and looked into the china-blue
+eyes. Fitzgerald turned.
+
+"What was that noise?" he asked, as Maurice shouldered him along the
+hall.
+
+"What noise?"
+
+Madame came back to the chateau at five, and dinner was announced at
+eight. The Countess Herzberg was young and pretty, the possessor of a
+beautiful mouth and a charming smile. The Colonel did the honors at
+the table. Maurice almost fancied himself in Vienna, the setting of the
+dining room was so perfect. The entire room was paneled in walnut. On
+the mantel over the great fireplace stood silver candlesticks with
+wax tapers. The candlestick in the center of the table was composed of
+twelve branches. The cuisine was delectable, the wines delicious. Madame
+and the countess were in evening dress. The Colonel was brimming with
+anecdote, the countess was witty, Madame was a sister to Aspasia.
+
+Maurice, while he enjoyed this strange feast, was puzzled. It was very
+irregular, and the Colonel's gray hairs did not serve to alter this
+fact. What was the meaning of it? What lay underneath?
+
+Sometimes he caught Fitzgerald in the act of staring at Madame when her
+attention was otherwise engaged; at other times he saw that Madame was
+returning this cursory investigation. There was, however, altogether a
+different meaning in these surreptitious glances. In the one there were
+interest, doubt, admiration; in the other, cold calculation. At no time
+did the conversation touch politics, and the crown was a thousand miles
+away--if surface indications went for aught.
+
+Finally the Colonel rose. "A toast--to Madame the duchess, since this is
+her very best wine!"
+
+Maurice emptied his glass fast enough; but Fitzgerald lowered his eyes
+and made no movement to raise his glass. The pupils in Madame's eyes
+grew small.
+
+"That is scarcely polite, Monsieur," she said.
+
+"Madame," he replied gently, "my parole did not include toasts to her
+Highness. My friend loves wine for its own sake, and seldom bothers his
+head about the toast as long as the wine is good. Permit me to withdraw
+the duchess and substitute yourself."
+
+"Do so, if it will please you. In truth, it was bad taste in you, count,
+to suggest it."
+
+"It's all the same to me;" and the Colonel refilled his glass and
+nodded.
+
+The countess smiled behind her fan, while Maurice felt the edge of the
+mild reproach which had been administered to him.
+
+"I plead guilty to the impeachment. It was very wrong. Far from it that
+I should drink to the health of the Philistines. Madame the countess was
+beating me down with her eyes, and I did not think."
+
+"I was not even looking at you!" declared the countess, blushing.
+
+The incident was soon forgotten; and at length Madame and the countess
+rose.
+
+Said the first: "We will leave you gentlemen to your cigars; and when
+they have ceased to interest you, you will find us in the music room."
+
+"And you will sing?" said Maurice to the countess.
+
+"If you wish." She was almost beautiful when she smiled, and she smiled
+on Maurice.
+
+"I confess," said he, "that being a prisoner, under certain
+circumstances, is a fine life."
+
+"What wicked eyes he has," said the countess, as she and Madame entered
+the music room.
+
+"Do not look into them too often, my dear," was the rejoinder. "I have
+asked not other sacrifice than that you should occupy his attention and
+make him fall in love with you."
+
+"Ah, Madame, that will be easy enough. But what is to prevent me from
+falling in love with him? He is very handsome."
+
+"You are laughing!"
+
+"Yes, I am laughing. It will be such an amusing adventure, a souvenir
+for my old age--and may my old age forget me."
+
+The men lit their cigars and smoked in silence.
+
+"Colonel," said Maurice at last, "will you kindly tell me what all this
+means?"
+
+"Never ask your host how old his wine is. If he is proud of it, he will
+tell you." He blew the smoke under the candle shades and watched it as
+it darted upward. "Don't you find it comfortable? I should."
+
+"Conscience will not lie down at one's bidding."
+
+"I understood that you were a diplomat?" The Colonel turned to
+Fitzgerald. "I hope that, when you are liberated, you will forget the
+manner in which you were brought here."
+
+"I shall forget nothing," curtly.
+
+"The devil! I can not fight you; I am too old."
+
+Fitzgerald said nothing, and continued to play with his emptied
+wine-glass.
+
+"The Princess Alexia," went on the Colonel, "has a bulldog. I have
+always wondered till now what the nationality of the dog was. The
+bulldog neither forsakes nor forgives; he is an Englishman."
+
+This declaration was succeeded by another interval of silence. The
+Englishman was thinking of his father; the thoughts of Maurice were
+anywhere but at the chateau; the Colonel was contemplating them both,
+shrewdly.
+
+"Well, to the ladies, gentlemen; it is half after nine."
+
+The countess was seated at the piano, improvising. Madame stood before
+the fireplace, arranging the pieces on a chess board. In the center
+of the room was a table littered with books, magazines and illustrated
+weeklies.
+
+"Do you play chess, Monsieur?" said Madame to Fitzgerald.
+
+"I do not."
+
+"Well, Colonel, we will play a game and show him how it is done."
+
+Fitzgerald drew up a chair and sat down at Madame's elbow. He followed
+every move she made because he had never seen till now so round and
+shapely an arm, hands so small and white, tipped with pink filbert
+nails. He did not learn the game so quickly as might be. He, like
+Maurice, was pondering over the unusual position in which he found
+himself; but analysis of any sort was not his forte; so he soon forgot
+all save the delicate curve of Madame's chin and throat, the soft ripple
+of her laughter, the abysmal gray of her eyes.
+
+"Monsieur le Capitaine," said the countess, "what shall I sing to you?"
+
+"To me?" said Maurice. "Something from Abt."
+
+Her fingers ran lightly over the keys, and presently her voice rose in
+song, a song low, sweet, and sad. Maurice peered out of the window
+into the shades of night. Visions passed and repassed the curtain of
+darkness. Once or twice the countess turned her head and looked at him.
+It was not only a handsome face she saw, but one that carried the mark
+of refinement.... Maurice was thinking of the lonely princess and her
+grave dark eyes. He possessed none of that power from which princes
+derive benefits; what could he do? And why should he interest himself in
+a woman who, in any event, could never be anything to him, scarcely even
+a friend? He smiled.
+
+If Fitzgerald was not adept at analysis, he was. Nothing ever entered
+his mind or heart that he could not separate and define. It was strange;
+it was almost laughable; to have fenced as long and adroitly as he had
+fenced, and then to be disarmed by one who did not even understand the
+foils! Surrender? Why not?... By and by his gaze traveled to the chess
+players. There was another game than chess being played there, though
+kings and queens and knights and bishops were still the sum of it.
+
+"Are you so very far away, then?" The song had ceased; the countess was
+looking at him curiously.
+
+"Thank you," he said; "indeed, you had taken me out of myself."
+
+"Do you like chestnuts?" she asked suddenly.
+
+"I am very fond of them."
+
+"Then I shall fetch some." It occurred to her that the room was very
+warm; she wanted a breath of air--alone.
+
+"Checkmate!" cried the Colonel, joyfully.
+
+"Do you begin to understand?" asked Madame.
+
+"A little," admitted Fitzgerald, who did not wish to learn too quickly.
+"I like to watch the game."
+
+"So do I," said Maurice, who had approached the table. "I should like to
+know what the game is, too."
+
+Both Madame and the Colonel appeared to accept the statement and not the
+innuendo. Madame placed the figures on the board.
+
+Maurice strolled over to the table and aimlessly glanced through the
+Vienna illustrated weeklies. He saw Franz Josef in characteristic poses,
+full-page engravings of the military maneuvers and reproductions of the
+notable paintings. He picked up an issue dated June. A portrait of the
+new Austrian ambassador to France attracted his attention. He turned the
+leaf. What he saw on the following page caused him to widen his eyes and
+let slip an ejaculation loud enough to be heard by the chess players.
+Madame seemed on the point of rising. Maurice did not lower his eyes nor
+Madame hers.
+
+"Checkmate in three moves, Madame!" exclaimed the Colonel; "it is
+wonderful."
+
+"What's the matter, Maurice?" asked Fitzgerald.
+
+"Jack, I am a ruined man."
+
+"How? What?" nearly upsetting the board.
+
+"I just this moment remember that I left my gas burning at the hotel,
+and it is extra."
+
+The Colonel and Fitzgerald lay back in their chairs and roared with
+laughter.
+
+But Madame did not even smile.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. BEING OF LONG RIDES, MAIDS, KISSES AND MESSAGES
+
+Fitzgerald was first into bed that night.
+
+"I want to finish this cigar, Jack," said Maurice, who wished to be
+alone with his thoughts. He sat in the chair by the window and lifted
+his feet to the sill. The night wind was warm and odorous. He had
+found a clue, but through what labyrinth would it lead him? A strange
+adventure, indeed; so strange that he was of half a mind that he
+dreamed. Prisoners.... Why? And these two women alone in this old
+chateau, a house party. There lay below all this some deep design.
+
+Should he warn his friend? Indeed, as yet, of what had he to warn him?
+To discover Madame to Fitzgerald would be to close the entrance to this
+labyrinth which he desired to explore. How would Madame act, now that
+she knew he possessed her secret? Into many channels he passed, but
+all these were blind, and led him to no end. Madame had a purpose; to
+discover what this purpose was Fitzgerald must remain in ignorance. What
+a woman! She resembled one of those fabulous creatures of medieval days.
+And why was the countess on the scene, and what was her part in this
+invisible game?
+
+He finished his cigar and lit another; but the second cigar solved no
+more than the first. Mademoiselle of the Veil! He knew now what she
+meant; having asked her to lift her veil, she had said, "Something
+terrible would happen." At last he, too, sought bed, but he did not
+sleep so soundly as did Fitzgerald.
+
+Ten days of this charming captivity passed; there was a thicker carpet
+of leaves on the ground, and new distances began to show mistily through
+the dismantling forest. But there were no changes at the Red Chateau--no
+outward changes. It might, in truth, have been a house party but for
+the prowling troopers and the continual grumbling of the Englishman when
+alone with Maurice.
+
+During the day they hunted or took long rides into the interior of the
+duchy. Both women possessed a fine skill in the saddle. In the evenings
+there were tourneys at chess, games and music.
+
+Each night Fitzgerald learned a little more about chess and a little
+less about woman. The countess, airy and delicate as a verse of
+Voiture's, bent all her powers (and these were not inconsiderable)
+toward the subjugation of Maurice. She laughed, she sang, she
+fascinated. She had the ability to amuse hour after hour. She offered
+vague promises with her eyes, and refused them with her lips. Maurice,
+who was never impregnable under the fire of feminine artillery, was
+at times half in love with her; but his suspicions, always near the
+surface, saved him.
+
+Sometimes he caught her hand and retained it over long; and once, when
+he kissed it, there was no rebuke. Again, when she sang, he would lean
+so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek, and her fingers
+would stumble into discords. Often she would suddenly rise from the
+piano and walk swiftly from the room, through the halls, into the park,
+where, though he followed, he never could find her. One day she and
+Madame returned from a walk in the forest, the one with high color and
+brilliant eyes, the other impassive as ice. Now, all these things
+did not escape Maurice, but he could not piece them together with any
+result.
+
+On the morning of the tenth day the two prisoners came down to
+breakfast, wondering how much longer this house party was going to last.
+
+"George! I wish I had a pipe," said Maurice.
+
+"So do I," Fitzgerald echoed glumly. "I am tired of cigars and weary
+of those eternal cigarettes. How the deuce are we going to get out of
+this?"
+
+"What's your hurry? We're having a good time."
+
+"That's the trouble. Hang the duchess!"
+
+"Hang her and welcome. But why do you complain to me and not to Madame?
+Are you afraid of her? Does she possess, then, what is called tamer's
+magnetism? O, my lion, if only you would roar a bit more at her and less
+at me!"
+
+"I don't know what she possesses; but I do know that I'd give a deal to
+be out of this."
+
+"Is the chambermaid idea bothering you?"
+
+"No, Maurice, it is not the chambermaid. I feel oppressed by something
+which I can not define."
+
+"Maybe you are not used to tokay forty years old?"
+
+"Wine has nothing to do with it."
+
+He was so serious that Maurice dropped his jesting tone. "By the way,"
+he said, "do you sleep soundly?"
+
+"No. Every night I am awakened by the noise of a horse entering the
+court-yard."
+
+"So am I. Moreover, Madame seems to be troubled with the same
+sleeplessness.
+
+"Madame?"
+
+"Yes. She is so troubled with sleeplessness that nothing will quiet her
+but the sight of the man who rides the horse: all of which is to say
+that a courier arrives each night with dispatches from Bleiberg. Now, to
+tell the truth, the courier does not keep me awake half so much as
+the thought of who is eating three meals a day at the end of the east
+corridor on the third floor. But there are Madame and the countess; we
+have kept them waiting."
+
+"Good morning," said Madame, smiling as they came up. "And how have you
+slept?"
+
+"Nothing wakes me but the roll of the drum or thunder," answered
+Fitzgerald diffidently.
+
+"I dream of horses," said Maurice carelessly.
+
+"Bon jour, M. le Capitaine!" cried the countess. Then she added with
+a light laugh: "Come, let me try you. Portons armes! Presentons
+armes!--How beautifully you do it!--Par le flanc gauche! En
+avant--marche!"
+
+Maurice swung, clicked his heels and, with a covert glance at Madame,
+led the way into the dining hall, whistling, "Behold the saber of my
+father!"
+
+"Ah, I do not see the Colonel," said Maurice; for night and day the old
+soldier had been with them.
+
+"He has gone to Brunnstadt," said Madame, "but will return this
+evening."
+
+The breakfast was short and merry. Words passed across the table that
+were as crisp as the toast. Maurice remarked the advent of two liveried
+servants, stolid Germans by the way, who, as he afterward found, did not
+understand French.
+
+"So the Colonel has gone to Brunnstadt?" said Maurice; which was a long
+way of asking why the Colonel had gone to Brunnstadt.
+
+"Yes," said Madame; "he has gone to consult Madame the duchess to see
+what shall be done to you, Monsieur."
+
+"To be done to me?" ignoring the challenge in her eyes.
+
+"Yes. You must not forget that you promised me your sword, and I have
+taken the liberty of presenting it to her Highness."
+
+"I remember nothing about promising my sword," said Maurice, gazing
+ceiling-ward.
+
+"What! There was a mental reservation?"
+
+"No, Madame. I remember my words only too well. I said that I loved
+adventure, thoughtless youth that I was, and that I was easy to be
+found. Which is all true, and part proved, since I am here."
+
+"Still, the uniform fits you exceedingly well. The hussars hold a high
+place at court."
+
+"Madame," replied he pleasantly, "I appreciate the honor, but at present
+my sword and fealty are sworn to my own country. And besides, I have no
+desire to take part in the petty squabble between this country and the
+kingdom."
+
+The forecast of a storm lay in Madame's gray eyes.
+
+"Eh? You wish to placate me, Madame?" thought Maurice.
+
+"He is right, Madame," interposed the countess. "But away with politics!
+It spoils all it touches."
+
+"And away with the duchess, too," put in Fitzgerald, reaching for a
+bunch of yellow grapes. "With all due respect to your cause and beliefs,
+Madame the duchess, your mistress, is a bugbear to me. The very sound of
+the title arouses in my heart all that is antagonistic."
+
+"You have not seen her Highness, Monsieur," said Madame, quietly.
+"Perhaps she is all that is desirable. She is known to be rich, her
+will is paramount to all others. When she sets her heart on a thing she
+leaves no stone unturned until she procures it. And, countess, do
+they not say of her that she possesses something--an attribute--more
+dangerous than beauty--fascination?"
+
+"Yes, Madame."
+
+"Madame the duchess," said Maurice dryly, "has a stanch advocate in you,
+Madame."
+
+"It is not unnatural."
+
+"Be that as it may," said Fitzgerald, "she is mine enemy."
+
+"Love your enemies, says the Book," was the interposition of the
+countess, who stole a sly glance at Maurice which he did not see.
+
+"That would not be difficult--in some cases," replied the Englishman.
+
+"Ah, come," thought Maurice, "my friend is beginning to pick up his
+lines." Aloud he said: "Madame, will you confer a favor on me by
+permitting me to inform my superior in Vienna of my whereabouts?"
+
+"No, Monsieur; prisoners are not allowed to communicate with the outside
+world. Are you not enjoying yourself? Is not everything being done for
+your material comfort? What complaint have you to offer?"
+
+"A gilded cage is no less a cage."
+
+"It is but temporary. The duchess has commanded that you be held until
+it is her pleasure to come to the chateau. O, Monsieur, where is your
+gallantry? Here the countess and I have done so much to amuse you, and
+you speak of a gilded cage!"
+
+"Pretty bird! pretty bird!" said Maurice, in a piping voice, "will it
+have some caraway?"
+
+Madame laughed. "Well, I hear the grooms leading the horses under the
+porte cochere. Go, then, for the morning ride. I am sorry that I can not
+accompany you. I have some letters to write."
+
+Fitzgerald curled his mustache. "I'll forswear the ride myself. I
+was reading a good book last night; I'll finish it, and keep Madame
+company."
+
+Madame trifled with the toast crumbs. Fitzgerald's profound
+dissimulation caused a smile to cross Maurice's lips.
+
+"Come, countess," said Maurice, gaily; "we'll take the ride together,
+since Madame has to write and my lord to read."
+
+"Five minutes until I dress," replied the countess, and she sped away.
+
+"What a beautiful girl!" said Madame, fondly. "Poor dear! Her life has
+not been a bed of roses."
+
+"No?" said Maurice, while Fitzgerald raised his eyebrows inquiringly.
+
+"No. She was formerly a maid of honor to her Highness. She made an
+unhappy marriage."
+
+"And where is the count?" asked Fitzgerald in surprise. He shot a glance
+of dismay at Maurice, who, translating it, smiled.
+
+"He is dead."
+
+Fitzgerald looked relieved.
+
+"What a fine thing it is," said Maurice, rising, "to be a man and wed
+where and how you will!" He withdrew to the main hall to don his cap
+and spurs. As he stooped to strap the latter, he saw a sheet of paper,
+crinkled by recent dampness, lying on the floor. He picked it up--and
+read it.
+
+     "The plan you suggest is worthy of you, Madame. The
+     Englishman is fair game, being a common enemy. Let
+     us gain our ends through the heart, since his purse
+     is impregnable to assaults. But the countess? Why not
+     the pantry maid, since the other is an American? They
+     lack discrimination. The king grows weaker every
+     day. Nothing was found in the Englishman's rooms. I
+     fear that the consols are in the safe at the British
+     legation. As usual, a courier will arrive each night.
+                           B."
+
+
+
+"Why--not--the--pantry maid?" Maurice drawled. "That is flippant." He
+read the message again. "What plan?" Suddenly he struck his thigh. "By
+George, so that is it, eh, Madame? So that is why we are so comfortably
+lodged here? I am in the way, and you bait the hook with a countess!
+Since the purse will not lead the way, the heart, eh? Certainly I shall
+tell my lord the Englishman all about his hostess when I return from the
+ride. Decidedly you are clever. O, how careless! Not even in cipher, so
+that he who reads may run. And who is B.?--Beauvais! Something told me
+that this man had a hand in the affair. I remember the look he gave me.
+A traitor, too.
+
+"Hang my memory, which seems always to forget what I wish to remember
+and remember what I wish to forget! Where have I met this man Beauvais
+before? Ah, the countess!" He thrust the message into his breast.
+"Evidently Madame thinks I am worth consideration; uncommonly pretty
+bait. Shall I let the play run on, or shall I tell her? Ah! you have
+two minutes to spare," he said, as she approached. "But you do not need
+them," throwing a deal of admiration into his glance.
+
+"It does not take me long to dress--on occasions."
+
+"A compliment to me?" he said.
+
+"If you will accept it."
+
+It was an exhilarating morning, full of forest perfumes. Through the
+haze the mountains glittered like huge emeralds and amethysts.
+
+"What a day!" said the countess, as they galloped away.
+
+"Aye, for plots and war and love!"
+
+"For plots and war?" demurely. Her cheeks were rosy and her hair as
+yellow as the silk of corn.
+
+"Well, then, for love." He shortened his rein. "A propos, have you ever
+been in love, countess?"
+
+"I? What a question!"
+
+"Have you?"
+
+"N--no! Let us talk of plots and war," gazing across the valley.
+
+"No; let us talk of love. I am in love, and one afflicted that way
+wishes a confidant. I appoint you mine."
+
+"Some rosy-cheeked peasant girl?" laughing.
+
+"Perhaps. Perhaps it's only a--a pantry maid," with a sly look from the
+corner of his eyes. Evidently she had not heard. She was still laughing.
+"I have heard of hermits falling in love with stars, and have laughed.
+Now I am in the same predicament. I love a star--"
+
+"Operatic? To be sure! Mademoiselle Lenormand of the Royal Vienna is in
+Bleiberg. How she keeps her age!"
+
+It was Maurice's turn to laugh.
+
+"And that is why you came to Bleiberg! Ah, these opera singers, had I my
+way, they should all be aged and homely."
+
+"Countess, you are pulling the bit too hard," said he. "I noticed
+yesterday that your horse has a very tender mouth."
+
+"Thank you." She slacked the rein. "He was going too close to the ditch.
+You were saying--"
+
+"No, it was you who were saying that all actresses should be aged and
+homely. But it is not Mademoiselle Lenormand, it is not the peasant, nor
+the pantry maid."
+
+This time she looked up quickly.
+
+"The woman I love is too far away, so I am going to give up thinking of
+her. Countess, I made a peculiar discovery this morning."
+
+"A discovery, Monsieur? What is it?"
+
+"Do you see that fork in the road, a mile away? When we reach it and
+turn I'll tell you what it is. If I told you now it might spoil the
+ride. What a day, truly! How clear everything is! And the air is like
+wine." He drew in deep breaths.
+
+"Let us hurry and reach the fork in the road; my curiosity is stifling
+me."
+
+Maurice did not laugh as she expected he would. As she observed the
+thoughtful frown between his brows, a shiver of dread ran through her.
+It did not take long to cover the intervening mile. They turned, and the
+horses fell into a quick step.
+
+"Now, Monsieur; please!"
+
+After all... But he quelled the gentle tremor in his heart. A month
+ago, had he known her, he might now have told her altogether a different
+story. He could see that she had not an inkling of what was to come (for
+he had determined to tell her); and he vaguely wondered if he should
+bring humiliation to the dainty creature. It would be like nicking
+a porcelain cup. Her brows were arched inquisitively and her lips
+puckered....He had had a narrow escape.
+
+He drew the message from his breast, leaned across and handed it to her.
+
+"Why, what is this, Monsieur?"
+
+"Read it and see." And he busied himself with the tangled mane of his
+horse. When they had ridden several yards, he heard her voice.
+
+"Here, Monsieur." The hand was extended, but the face was averted.
+
+"Countess, you are too charming a woman to lend yourself to such
+schemes."
+
+There was no reply.
+
+"Did you not volunteer to make me fall in love with you to keep me from
+interfering with Madame's plans?" It was brutal, but he was compelled to
+say it.
+
+Silence.
+
+"Did you not?" he persisted. "When one writes such messages as these,
+one should use an intricate cipher. Had I been other than a prisoner,
+what I have done would not be the act of a gentleman. But I am a
+prisoner; I must defend myself. To rob a man through his love! And
+such a man! He is a very infant in the hands of a woman. He has been a
+soldier all his life. All women to him are little less than angels; he
+knows nothing of their treachery, their deceit, their false smiles. It
+will be an easy victory, or rather it would have been, for I shall do my
+best to prevent it. Madame is not unknown to me; I have been waiting to
+see what meant this peculiar house party.
+
+"Perhaps I am now too late. Madame distrusts me. I dare say she has her
+reasons. She went to you. You were to occupy me. I was young, I liked
+the society of women, I was gay and careless. She has decked me out as
+one would deck a monkey (and doubtless she calls me one behind my back),
+and has offered me a sword to play with.
+
+"In America, when a man puts a sword in his hand, it is to kill
+somebody. Here--aye, all over the continent, for that matter--swords are
+baubles for young nobles, used to slash each other in love affairs. I
+respect and admire you; had I not done so, I should not have spoken.
+Countess, be frank with me, as frank as I have been with you; have I not
+guessed rightly?"
+
+"Yes, Monsieur," her head bowed and her cheeks white. "Yes, yes! it was
+a miserable game. But I love Madame; I would sacrifice my pride and my
+heart for her, if need be."
+
+"I can believe that."
+
+"And believe me when I say that the moment I saw you, I knew that my
+conduct was going to be detestable. But I had given my promise. A woman
+has but little to offer to her country; I have offered my pride, and I
+am a proud woman, Monsieur. I am ashamed. I am glad that you spoke, for
+it was becoming unbearable to throw myself at a man whose heart I knew
+intuitively to be elsewhere." She raised her eyes, which were filled
+with a strange luster. "Will you forgive me, Monsieur?"
+
+"With all my heart. For now I know that we shall be friends. You will
+be relieved of an odious part; for you are too handsome not to have in
+keeping some other heart besides your own."
+
+He then began gaily to describe some of his humorous adventures, and
+continued in this vein till they arrived once more at the chateau.
+Sometimes the countess laughed, but he could see that her sprightliness
+was gone. When they came under the porte cochere he sprang from his
+horse and assisted her to dismount; and he did not relinquish her hand
+till he had given it a friendly pressure. She stood motionless on the
+steps, centered a look on him which he failed to interpret, then ran
+swiftly into the hall, thence to her room, the door of which she bolted.
+
+"It would not be difficult," he mused, communing with the thought which
+had come to him. "It would be something real, and not a chimera."
+
+He turned over the horses to the grooms, and went in search of
+Fitzgerald to inform him of his discovery; but the Englishman was
+nowhere to be found. Neither was Madame. Being thirsty, he proceeded to
+the dining hall. Fadette, the maid, was laying the silver.
+
+"Ah, the `pantry maid,'" he thought. "Good day, Fadette."
+
+"Does Monsieur wish for something?"
+
+"A glass of water. Thanks!"
+
+She retreated and kept her eyes lowered.
+
+"Fadette, you are charming. Has any one ever told you that?"
+
+"O, Monsieur!" blushing.
+
+"Have they?" lessening the distance between them.
+
+"Sometimes," faintly. She could not withstand his glance, so she retired
+a few more steps, only to find herself up with the wall.
+
+With a laugh he sprang forward and caught her face between his hands and
+imprinted a kiss on her left cheek. Suddenly she wrenched herself loose,
+uttered a frightened cry and fled down the pantryway.
+
+"What's the matter with the girl?" he muttered aloud. "I wanted to ask
+her some questions."
+
+"Ask them of me, Monsieur," said a voice from the doorway.
+
+Maurice wheeled. It was Madame, but her face expressed nothing. He saw
+that he had been caught. The humor of the situation got the better of
+him, and he laughed. Madame ignored this unseemly hilarity.
+
+"Monsieur, is this the way you return my kindness?"
+
+"Permit me to apologize. As to your kindness, I have just discovered
+that it is of a most dangerous quality."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I mean that I could not kiss Madame the countess with the same sense of
+security as I could the--pantry maid," bowing.
+
+Just now Madame's face expressed a good deal. "Of what are you talking?"
+advancing a step.
+
+"I had in mind what our friend, Colonel Beauvais, remarked in his recent
+dispatch: I know no discrimination. The fact is, I do. I found the
+dispatch on the floor this morning. Allow me to return it to you. I have
+kept silent, Madame, because I did not know how to act."
+
+"You have dared--?" her lips pressed and her eyes thunderous.
+
+"To read it? Aye. I am a prisoner; it was in self-defense. Madame, you
+do me great honor. A countess! What consideration to the indiscriminate!
+Au revoir, then, till luncheon;" and he left the room, whistling--
+
+Voici le sabre de mon pere!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. THE DENOUEMENT
+
+At no time during the afternoon did Maurice find the opportunity to
+speak privately to Fitzgerald. Madame hovered about, chatting, smiling
+and humming snatches of song. She seemed to have formed a sudden
+attachment for Maurice; that is to say, she could not bear to lose sight
+of him, not for the briefest moment.
+
+He swallowed his chagrin, for he could but confess that it was
+sugar-coated. Madame had at last considered his case, and had labeled
+him dangerous. Somehow a man always likes to be properly valued. It
+re-establishes his good opinion of himself.
+
+Well, well; however affectionate Madame might be, she could scarcely
+carry it beyond the threshold of his chamber, and he was determined to
+retire at an early hour. But he had many things to learn.
+
+Fitzgerald was abandoned to the countess, who had still much color to
+regain. From time to time the Englishman looked over his shoulder to see
+what was going on between Madame and his friend, and so missed half of
+what the countess said.
+
+"Come," thought Maurice, "it is time I made a play."
+
+The blackberries were ripe along the stone walls which surrounded the
+chateau. Maurice wandered here and there, plucking what fruit he could
+find. Now and then he would offer a branch to Madame. At length, as
+though by previous arrangement with Madame, the countess led Fitzgerald
+around to the other side of the chateau, so that Madame and Maurice were
+alone. Immediately the smile, which had rested on her lips, vanished.
+Her companion was gazing mountainward, and cogitating. How fared those
+in Bleiberg?
+
+"What a beautiful world it is!" said a low, soft voice close to his ear.
+
+Maurice resumed his berry picking.
+
+"What exquisite tints in the skies!" went on the voice; "what matchless
+color in the forests!"
+
+Maurice plucked a berry, ate it, and smacked his lips. It was a good
+berry.
+
+"But what a terrible thing it would be if one should die suddenly, or
+be thrown into a windowless dungeon, shut out from all these splendid
+reaches?"
+
+Maurice plucked another berry, but he did not eat it. Instinctively he
+turned--and met a pair of eyes as hard and cold and gray as new steel.
+
+"That," said he, "sounds like a threat."
+
+"And if it were, Monsieur, and if it were?"
+
+"If it were, I should say that you had discovered that I know too much.
+I suspected from the first; the picture merely confirmed my suspicions.
+I see now that it was thoughtless in me not to have told my friend; but
+it is not too late."
+
+"And why, I ask, have I not suppressed you before this?"
+
+"Till to-day, Madame, you had not given me your particular
+consideration." Then, as if the conversation was not interesting him, he
+returned to the berries. "There's a fine one there. It's a little high;
+but then!" He tiptoed, drew the branch from the wall, and snatched the
+luscious fruit. "Ah!"
+
+"Monsieur, attend to me; the berries can wait."
+
+"Madame, the life of a good blackberry is short."
+
+"To begin with, you say that I did not show you consideration. Few
+princes have been shown like consideration."
+
+"I was wrong. It is not every man that has a countess--and a pretty one,
+too!--thrown at his head."
+
+Madame was temporarily silenced by this retort; it upset her
+calculations. She scrutinized the clean, smooth face, and she saw lines
+which had hitherto escaped her notice. She was at last convinced that
+she had to contend with a man, a man who had dealt with both men and
+women. How deep was he? Could honors, such as she could give, and
+money plumb the depths?... He was an American. She smiled the smile of
+duplicity.
+
+"Monsieur," she said, "do you lack wealth?"
+
+"Yes, I lack it; but that is not to say that I desire it."
+
+"Perhaps it is honors you desire?"
+
+"Honors? To what greater honor may I aspire than that which is written
+in my passports?"
+
+"What is written in your passports?"
+
+"That I am a citizen of the United States of America. It would not be
+good taste in me to accept honors save those that my country may choose
+to confer."
+
+Again Madame found her foil turned aside. She began to lose patience.
+Her boot patted the sod. "Monsieur, since the countess is not high
+enough, since gold and honors have no charm, listen."
+
+"I am listening, Madame."
+
+"I permit you to witness the comic opera, but I shall allow no prompting
+from outsiders."
+
+"Madame, do you expect me to sit calmly by and see my friend made a
+fool?" He spoke warmly and his eyes remained steadfast.
+
+"Certainly that is what you shall do," coldly.
+
+"Madame, you are a beautiful woman; heaven has endowed you with
+something more than beauty. Is it possible that the gods forgot to mix
+conscience in the mold?"
+
+"Conscience? Royalty knows none."
+
+"Ah, Madame, wait till you are royal."
+
+"Take care. You have not felt my anger."
+
+"I would rather that than your love."
+
+She marveled at her patience.
+
+"If you have no conscience, Madame, I have. I shall warn him. You shall
+not dishonor him if I can prevent it. You wish to win his love, and you
+have gauged the possibilities of it so accurately that you know you will
+have but to ask, be it his honor or his life. A far finer thing it would
+be for you to win your crown at the point of the sword. There would be
+a little glory in it then. But even then, the world would laugh at you.
+For you would be waging war against a lonely woman, a paralytic king, a
+prelate who is a man of peace. What resistance could these three offer?
+
+"But to gain your ends by treachery and deceit, to rob a man of his
+brains and heart, laughing the while in your sleeve; to break his life
+and make him curse all women, from Eve to you and the mother who bore
+him! Ah, Madame, let me plead with you. Give him his liberty. Let him
+go back and complete the task imposed on him. Do not break his life,
+for life is more than a crown; do not compel him to sully his honor, for
+honor is more than life.
+
+"Your cause is just, I will admit, but do not tarnish it by such
+detestable means. 'Tis true that a crown to me signifies nothing, but
+life and honor are common to us both. With all his strength and courage,
+my friend is helpless. All his life he has been without the society of
+women. If he should love you--God help him! His love would be without
+calculation, without reason, blind and furious. Madame, do not destroy
+him."
+
+Sometimes, in the passing, we are stopped by the sound of a voice. It
+is not the words it utters, nor the range nor tone. It is something
+indefinable, and, though we can not analyze it, we are willing to follow
+wherever it leads. Such a voice Maurice possessed, though he was totally
+ignorant of its power. But Madame, as she listened, felt its magic
+influence, and for a moment the spell rendered her mute.
+
+"Monsieur, you have missed your vocation; you plead well, indeed.
+Unfortunately, I can not hear; my ears are of wax. No, no! I have
+nourished these projects too long; they are a part of me. Laughed at,
+you say? Have I not been laughed at from one end of the continent to
+the other?" passionately. "It is my turn now, and woe to those who have
+dared to laugh. I shall sweep all obstacles away; nothing shall stop me.
+Mine the crown is, and mine it shall be. I am a woman, and I wished to
+avoid bloodshed. But not even that shall stay me; not even love!" Her
+bosom heaved, her hands were clenched, and her gray eyes flashed like
+troubled waters in the sunlight.
+
+"Madame, if you love him--"
+
+"Well?" proudly.
+
+"No, I am wrong. If you loved him you would prize above all else this
+honor of which you intend to rob him."
+
+"I brought you here not to discuss whether I am right or wrong. Look
+about you."
+
+Maurice was somewhat troubled to discover several troopers lounging
+about just out of earshot. They were so arranged as to prevent egress
+from the park. He looked thoughtfully at the wall. It was eight feet in
+height.
+
+Madame saw the look, and said, "Corporal!"
+
+There was a noise on the other side of the wall, and presently a head
+bobbed up.
+
+"Madame?" inquired the head.
+
+"Nothing. I wished to know if you were at your post." She turned
+to Maurice, who was puzzled to know what all this was preamble to.
+"Monsieur Carewe, I never forget details. I had an idea that when
+I submitted my proposals to you, you might be tempted to break your
+parole."
+
+Maurice gnawed his lip. "Proceed, Madame."
+
+"There are only two. If you do not promise here and now in no way to
+interfere with my plans, these troopers will convey you to Brunnstadt,
+where you will be kept in confinement until the succession to the
+throne is decided one way or the other. The other proposal is, if you
+promise--and I have faith in your word--the situation will continue the
+same as at present. Choose, Monsieur. Which is it to be?"
+
+The devil gleamed in his eyes. He remained silent.
+
+"Well! Well!" impatiently.
+
+"I accept the alternative," with bad grace. "If I made a dash--"
+
+"You would be shot; those were my orders."
+
+"And if I went to prison--"
+
+"You would miss what you call the comic opera, but which to me is all
+there is in life. You say that I have read your friend well. That is
+true. Do you think that it is easy for me to lessen myself in my own
+eyes? No woman lives who is prouder than I. Remember, you are not to
+hint at what I propose to do, nor who I am. See! It is all because you
+read something which was not intended for your eyes. Be my friend, or be
+my enemy, it is a matter of indifference to me. You have only yourself
+to blame. Had you gone about your business and not intruded where
+you were not wanted, neither you nor your friend would be here. No
+interference from you, Monsieur; that is the understanding." She raised
+her hand and made a sign, and the troopers took themselves off. "Now you
+may go--to the countess, if you wish; though I dare say that she will
+not find you in the best of tempers."
+
+"I dare say she won't," said Maurice.
+
+
+
+Fitzgerald sat by a window in the music room. He had resurrected from no
+one knew where a clay with a broken stem. There was a thoughtful cast
+to his countenance, and he puffed away, blissfully unconscious of, or
+indifferent to, the close proximity of the velvet curtains. A thrifty
+housewife, could she have seen the smoke rise and curl and lose itself
+in the folds above, would have experienced the ecstasy of anxiety and
+perturbation. But there was no thrifty housewife at the Red Chateau,
+nothing but dreams of conquest and revenge.
+
+Twilight was gathering about, soft-footed and shadowful. Long reaches
+of violet and vermilion clouds pressed thickly on the western line of
+hills. The mists began to rise, changing from opal to sapphire. The
+fantastic melodies of wandering gypsy songs went throbbing through the
+room; rollicking gavots, Hungarian dances, low and slumbrous nocturnes.
+As the music grew sadder and dreamier, the smoker moved uneasily.
+
+Somehow, it gripped his heart; and the long years of loneliness returned
+and overwhelmed him. They marshaled past, thirteen in all; and there
+were glimpses of deserts, snowcapped mountains, men moving in the blur
+of smoke, long watches in the night. Thirteen years in God-forsaken
+outposts, with never a sight of a woman's face, the sound of her voice,
+the swish of her gown, nor a touch of the spell which radiates from her
+presence.
+
+He had never made friends. Others had come up to him and passed him, and
+had gone to the cities, leaving him to bear the brunt of the cold,
+the heat, the watchfulness. He had made his bed; he was too much his
+father's son to whine because it was hard. Often he used to think how a
+few words, from a pride humbled, would have removed the barrier. But the
+words never came, nor was the pride ever humbled.
+
+Out of all the thirteen years he could remember only six months of
+pleasure. He had been transferred temporarily to Calcutta, where his
+Colonel, who had received secret information concerning him, had treated
+him like a gentleman, and had employed him as regimental interpreter,
+for he spoke French and German and a smattering of Indian tongues.
+During his lonely hours he had studied, for he knew that some day he
+would be called upon to administer a vast fortune.... He laid the pipe
+on the sill, rested his elbows beside it, and dropped his chin in his
+hands. What a fool he had been to waste the best years of his life! His
+father would have opened to him a boundless career; he would have seen
+the world under the guidance of a master hand. And here he was to-day,
+the possessor of millions, a beggar in friends, no niche to fill, a
+wanderer from place to place.
+
+The old pile in England, he never wished to see it again; the memories
+which it would arouse would be too bitter.... The shade of Beethoven
+touched him as it passed; Mozart, Mendelssohn, Chopin. But he was
+thinking only of his loneliness, and the marvelous touch of the hands
+which evoked the great spirits was lost upon him.
+
+Maurice was seated in one of the gloomy corners. He had still much good
+humor to recover. He pulled at his lips, and wondered from time to time
+what was going on in Fitzgerald's head. Poor devil! he thought; could
+he resist this woman whose accomplishments were so varied that at one
+moment she could overthrow a throne and at the next play Phyllis to some
+strolling Corydon? Since he himself, who knew her, could entertain for
+her nothing but admiration, what hope was there for the Englishman? What
+a woman! She savored of three hundred years off. To plan by herself, to
+arrange the minutest detail, and above all to wait patiently! Patience
+has never been the attribute of a woman of power; Madame possessed both
+patience and power.
+
+The countess was seated in another dark corner. Suddenly she arose and
+said, in a voice blended with great trouble and impatience: "For pity's
+sake, Madame, cease those dirges! Play something lively; I am sad."
+
+The music stopped, but presently began again. Maurice leaned forward.
+Madame was playing Chopin's polonaise. He laughed silently. He was in
+Madame's thoughts. It struck him, however, that the notes had a defiant
+ring.
+
+"Lights!" called Madame, rising from the stool.
+
+Immediately a servant entered with candles and retired. Maurice, when
+his eyes had grown accustomed to the lights, scanned the three faces.
+Madame's was radiant. Fitzgerald's was a mixture--a comical mixture--of
+content and enjoyment, but the countess's was as colorless as the wax
+in the candlesticks. He asked himself what other task she had to perform
+that she should take so long to recover her roses. Had the knowledge of
+her recent humiliation been too much for her?
+
+She was speaking to him. "Monsieur, will you walk with me in the park? I
+am faint."
+
+"Are you ill, countess?" asked Madame, coming up and placing her hand
+under the soft round chin of the other and striving to read her eyes.
+
+"Not so ill, Madame, that a breath of fresh air will not revive me."
+When they had gained the park, the countess said to Maurice: "Monsieur,
+I have brought you here to tell you something. I fear that your friend
+is lost, for you can do nothing."
+
+"Not even if I break my word?" he asked.
+
+"It would do no good."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"It is too late," lowly. "I have been Madame's understudy too long not
+to read. Forgive me. I was to keep you apart; I have done so. The
+evil can not now be repaired. Your hope is that Madame has not fully
+considered his pride."
+
+"Has she any regard for him?"
+
+"Sentiment?--love?" She uttered a short, incredulous laugh. "Madame has
+brain, not heart. Could a woman with a heart plan as she plans?"
+
+"Well, let us not talk of plots and plans; let us talk of--"
+
+"Monsieur, do not be unkind. I have asked your forgiveness. Let us not
+talk; let us be silent and listen to the night;" and she leaned over the
+terrace balustrade.
+
+Maurice floated. As he leaned beside her a strand of perfumed hair blew
+across his nostrils. ... The princess was at best a dream. It was not
+likely that he ever would speak to her again. The princess was a poem,
+unlettered and unrhymed. But here, close to him, was a bit of beautiful
+material prose. The hair again blew out toward him and he moved his
+lips. She heard the vague sound and lifted her head.
+
+Far away came the call of the sentry; a horse whinneyed in the stables.
+There was in the air the odor of an approaching storm.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. WHOM THE GODS DESTROY AND A FEW OTHERS
+
+Some time passed before Fitzgerald became aware of Maurice's departure.
+When he saw that he and Madame were alone, he said nothing, but pulled
+all the quicker at his clay. He wondered at the desire which suddenly
+manifested itself. Fly? Why should he fly? The beat of his pulse
+answered him.... What a fine thing it was to feel the presence of a
+woman--a woman like this! What a fine thing always to experience the
+content derived from her nearness!
+
+He looked into his heart; there was no animosity; there was nothing at
+all but a sense of gratefulness. In the dreary picture of his life there
+was now an illumined corner. He had ceased to blame her; she was doing
+for her country what he, did necessity so will, would do for his. And
+after all, he could not war against a woman--a woman like this. His
+innate chivalry was too deep-rooted.
+
+How soft her voice was! The color of her hair and eyes followed him
+night and day. Once he had been on the verge of sounding Maurice in
+regard to Madame, Maurice was so learned in femininities; but this
+would have been an acknowledgment of his ignorance, and pride closed
+his mouth. It was all impossible, but then, why should he return to his
+loneliness without attempting to find some one to share it with him? The
+king was safe; his duty was as good as done; his conscience was at
+ease in that direction. He needed not love, he thought, so much as
+sympathy.... Sympathy. He turned over the word in his mind as a gem
+merchant turns over in his hand a precious jewel. Sympathy; it was the
+key to all he desired--woman's sympathy. There was nothing but ash in
+the bowl of his pipe, but he continued to puff.
+
+Madame was seated at the piano again, idly thrumming soft minor chords.
+She was waiting for him to speak; she wanted to test his voice, to know
+and measure its emotion. At times she turned her head and shot a sly
+glance at him as he sat there musing. There was a wrinkle of contempt
+and amusement lurking at the corners of her eyes. Had Maurice been there
+he would have seen it. Fitzgerald might have gazed into those eyes until
+doomsday, and never have seen else than their gray fathoms. Minute after
+minute passed, still he did not speak; and Madame was forced to break
+the monotony. She was not sure that the countess could hold Maurice very
+long.
+
+"Of what are you thinking, Monsieur?" she asked, in a soft key.
+
+He started, looked up and laid the pipe on the sill. "Frankly, I was
+thinking that nothing can be gained by keeping us prisoners here." He
+told the lie rather diffidently.
+
+"Not even forgiveness?" The lids of the gray eyes drooped and the music
+ceased.
+
+"Forgiveness? O, there is nothing to forgive you; it is only your
+mistress I can not forgive. On the contrary, there is much to thank you
+for."
+
+"Still, whatever I do or have done is merely in accordance with her
+Highness's wishes."
+
+He moved uneasily. "It is her will, not yours."
+
+"Yes; the heart of Madame Amerbach is supine to the brain of Madame the
+duchess." She rose and moved silently to the window and peered out. He
+thought her to be star-gazing; but she was not. She was endeavoring to
+see where Maurice and the countess were.
+
+"Madame, shall I tell you a secret?"
+
+"A secret? Tell me," sitting in the chair next to his.
+
+"This has been the pleasantest week I have known in thirteen years."
+
+"Then you forgive me!" Madame was not only mistress of music but of
+tones.
+
+"Yes."
+
+And then, out of the fullness of his lonely heart, he told her all about
+his life, its emptiness, its deserts, its longings. Each sentence was a
+knife placed in her hands; and as she contemplated his honest face which
+could conceal nothing, his earnest eyes which could hide nothing, Madame
+was conscious of a vague distrust of herself. If only he had offered to
+fight, she thought. But he had not; instead, he was giving to her all
+his weapons of defense.
+
+"Ah, Monsieur, you do wrong to forgive me!" impulsively.
+
+He smiled.
+
+"Why should you be friendly to me when I represent all that is
+antagonistic to you?"
+
+"To me you represent only a beautiful woman."
+
+"Ah; you have been taking lessons of your friend."
+
+"He is a good teacher. He is one of those men whom I admire. Women have
+never mastered him. He knows so much about them."
+
+"Yes?" a flicker in her eyes.
+
+"Beneath all his banter there is a brave heart. He is a rare man who,
+having brain and heart to guide, follows the heart." He picked up the
+pipe and began to play a tattoo on the sill. "As for me, I know nothing
+of women, save what I have read in books, and save that I have been too
+long without them."
+
+"And you have gone all these years without knowing what it is to love?"
+To a man less guileless, this question would not have been in good
+taste.
+
+Fitzgerald was silent; he dared not venture another lie.
+
+"What! you are silent? Is there, after all, a woman somewhere in your
+life?"
+
+"Yes." He continued to tap the pipe. His gaze wandered to the candles,
+strayed back to the window, then met hers steadfastly, so steadfastly,
+that she could not resist. She was annoyed.
+
+"Tell me about her."
+
+"My vocabulary is too limited. You would laugh at me."
+
+"I? No; love is sacred." She had boasted to Maurice that she was without
+conscience; she had only smothered it. "Come; is she beautiful?"
+
+"Yes." These questions disturbed him.
+
+"Certainly she must be worthy or you would not love her. She is rich?"
+
+"That does not matter; I am." He was wishing that Maurice would hurry
+back; the desire to fly was returning.
+
+"And she rejected you and sent you to the army?"
+
+"She has not rejected me, though I dare say she would, had I the
+presumption to ask her."
+
+"A faint heart, they say--"
+
+"My heart is not faint; it is my tongue." He rose and wandered about the
+room. Her breath was like orris, and went to his head like wine.
+
+"Monsieur," she said, "is it possible that you have succumbed to the
+charms of Madame the countess?"
+
+He laughed. "One may admire exquisite bric-a-brac without loving it."
+
+"Bric-a-brac! Poor Elsa!" and Madame laughed. "If it were the countess I
+could aid you."
+
+"Love is not merchandise, to traffic with."
+
+Madame's cheeks grew warm. Sometimes the trick of fence is beaten down
+by a tyro's stroke.
+
+"Eh, bien, since it is not the countess--"
+
+He came toward her so swiftly that instinctively she rose and moved
+to the opposite side of her chair. Something in his face caused her to
+shiver. She had no time to analyze its meaning, but she knew that the
+shiver was not unmixed with fear.
+
+"Madame, in God's name, do not play with me!" he cried.
+
+"Monsieur, you forget yourself," for the moment forgetting her part.
+
+"Yes, there is no self in my thoughts since they are all of you! You
+know that I love you. Who could resist you? Thirteen years? They are
+well wasted, in the end to love a woman like you."
+
+Before she could withdraw her hands from the top of the chair he had
+seized them.
+
+"Monsieur, release me." She struggled futilely.
+
+"I love you." He began to draw her from behind the chair.
+
+"Monsieur, Monsieur!" she, cried, genuinely alarmed; "do not forget that
+you are a gentleman."
+
+"I am not a gentleman now; I am a man who loves."
+
+Madame was now aware that what she had aroused could not be subdued by
+angry words.
+
+"Monsieur, you say that you love me; do not degrade me by forcing me
+into your arms. I am a woman, and weak, and you are hurting me."
+
+He let go her hands, and they stood there, breathing deeply and quickly.
+But for her it was a respite. She had been too precipitate. She brought
+together the subtle forces of her mind. She could gain nothing by force;
+she must use cunning. To hold him at arm's length, and yet to hold him,
+was her desire. She had reckoned on wax; a man stood before her. All at
+once the flutter of admiration stirred in her heart. She was a soldier's
+daughter, the daughter of a man who loved strong men. And this man was
+doubly strong because he was fearless and honest. She read in his eyes
+that a moment more and he had kissed her, a thing no man save her father
+had ever done.
+
+"O, Monsieur," she said lightly, "you soldiers are such forward lovers!
+You have not even asked me if I love you." He made a move to regain her
+hands. "No, no!" darting behind the chair. "You must not take my hands;
+you do not realize how strong you are. I am not sure that my heart
+responds to yours."
+
+"Tell me, what must I do?" leaning across the chair.
+
+"You must have patience. A woman must be wooed her own way, or not at
+all. What a whirlwind you are!"
+
+"I would to heaven," with a gesture indicative of despair, "that you
+had kept me behind bars and closed doors." He dropped his hands from the
+chair and sought the window, leaning his arms against the central frame.
+
+Madame had fully recovered her composure. She saw her way to the end.
+
+"It is true," she said, "that I do not love you, but it is also true
+that I am not indifferent to you. What proof have I that you really love
+me? None, save your declaration; and that is not sufficient for a woman
+such as I am. Shall I place my life in your hands for better or for
+worse, simply because you say you love me?"
+
+"My love does not reason, Madame."
+
+She passed over this stroke. "I do not know you; it is not less than
+natural for me to doubt you. What proof have I that your declaration
+of love is not a scheme to while away your captivity at my expense?
+My heart is not one to be taken by storm. There is only one road to my
+affections; it is narrow. Other men have made love to me, but they have
+hesitated to enter upon this self-same road."
+
+"Love that demands conditions? I have asked none."
+
+Madame blushed. "A man offers love; a woman confers it."
+
+"And what is this narrow road called which leads to your affections? Is
+your heart a citadel?"
+
+"It is called sacrifice. Those who dwell in my heart, which you call a
+citadel, enter by that road."
+
+"Sacrifice?" Fervor lighted his face again. "Do you wish my fortune? It
+is yours. My life? It is yours. Do you wish me to lead the army of the
+duchess into Bleiberg? It shall be done. Sacrifice? I have sacrificed
+the best years of youth for nothing; my life has been made up of
+sacrifices."
+
+"Monsieur, if I promised to listen to you here-after, if I promised a
+heart that has never known the love of man, if I promised lips that have
+never known the lips of any man save my father--" She moved away from
+the chair, within an arm's length of him. "If I promised all these
+without reservation, would you aid me to give back to the duchess her
+own?"
+
+Instantly her arms were pinioned to her sides, and he had drawn her so
+close that she could feel his heart beat against her own.
+
+"Have no fear," he said. The voice was unfamiliar to her ears. "I shall
+not kiss you. Let me look into your eyes, Madame, your eyes, and read
+the lie which is written there. My fortune and my life are not enough.
+Keep your love, Madame; I have no wish to purchase it. What! if I
+surrender my honor it is agreed that you surrender yours? A love such as
+mine requires a wife. You would have me break my word to the dead and
+to the living, and you expect me to believe in your promises! Faugh!" He
+pushed her from him, and resumed his stand by the window.
+
+The hate of a thousand ancestors surged into her heart, and she would
+have liked to kill him. Mistress! He had dared. He had dared to speak to
+her as no other man living or dead had dared. And he lived. All that
+was tigerish in her soul rose to the surface; only the thought of the
+glittering goal stayed the outburst. She had yet one weapon. A minute
+went by, still another; silence. A hand was laid tremblingly on his arm.
+
+"Forgive me! I was wrong. Love me, love me, if you must. Keep your
+honor; love me without conditions. I--" She stumbled into the chair,
+covered her eyes and fell to weeping.
+
+Fitzgerald, dumfounded and dismayed, looked down at the beautiful head.
+He could fight angry words, tempests of wrath--but tears, a woman's
+tears, the tears of the woman he loved!
+
+"Madame," he said gently, "do you love me?"
+
+No answer.
+
+"Madame, for God's sake, do not weep! Do you love me? If you love me--if
+you love me--"
+
+She sprang to her feet. Once again she experienced that shiver; again
+her conscience stirred.
+
+"I do not know," she said. "But this I may say: your honor, which you
+hold above the price of a woman's love, will be the cause of bloodshed.
+Mothers and wives and sisters will execrate your name, brave men will be
+sacrificed needlessly. What are the Osians to you? They are strangers.
+You will do for them, and uselessly, what you refuse to do for the woman
+you profess to love. I abhor bloodshed. Your honor is the offspring of
+pride and egotism. Can you not see the inevitable? War will be declared.
+You can not help Leopold; but you can save him the degradation of being
+expelled from his throne by force of arms. The army of the duchess is
+true to its humblest sword. Can you say that for the army of the king?
+Would you witness the devastation of a beautiful city, by flame and
+sword?
+
+"Monsieur, Austria is with us, and she will abide with us whichever
+way we move. Austria, Monsieur, which is Leopold's sponsor. And this
+Leopold, is he a man to sit upon a throne? Is he a king in any sense of
+the word? Would a king submit to such ignominy as he submits to without
+striking a blow? Would he permit his ministers to override him? Would he
+permit his army to murmur, his agents to plunder, his people to laugh
+at him, if he possessed one kingly attribute? No, no! If you were king,
+would you allow these things? No! You would silence all murmurs, you
+would disgorge your agents, you would throttle those who dared to laugh.
+
+"Put yourself in the duchess's place. All these beautiful lands are hers
+by right of succession; is she wrong to desire them? What does she wish
+to accomplish? She wishes to join the kingdom and the duchy, and to make
+a great kingdom, as it formerly was. Do you know why Leopold was seated
+upon the throne?
+
+"Some day the confederation will decide to divide all these lands into
+tidbits, and there will be no one to oppose them. Madame the duchess
+wishes to be strong enough to prevent it. And you, Monsieur, are the
+grain of sand which stops all this, you and your pride. Not even a
+woman's love--There, I have said it!--not even a woman's love--will move
+your sense of justice. Go! leave me. Since my love is nothing, since
+the sacrifice I make is useless, go; you are free!" The tears which came
+into her eyes this time were genuine; tears of chagrin, vexation, and of
+a third sensation which still remained a mystery to her.
+
+To him, as she spoke, with her wonderful eyes flashing, a rich color
+suffusing her cheeks and throat and temples, the dim candle light
+breaking against the ruddy hair; honor or pride, whichever it was, was
+well worth the losing. He was a man; it is only the pope who is said to
+be infallible. His honor could not save the king. All she had said was
+true. If he held to his word there would be war and bloodshed.
+
+On the other hand, if he surrendered, less harm would befall the king,
+and the loss of his honor--was it honor?--would be well recompensed for
+the remainder of his days by the love of this woman. His long years of
+loneliness came back; he wavered. He glanced first at her, then at the
+door; one represented all that was desirable in the world, the other
+more loneliness, coupled with unutterable regret. Still he wavered, and
+finally he fell.
+
+"Madame, will you be my wife?"
+
+"Yes." And it seemed to her that the word, came to her lips by no
+volition of hers. As she had grown red but a moment gone, she now grew
+correspondingly pale, and her limbs shook. She had irrevocably committed
+herself. "No, no!" as she saw him start forward with outstretched arms,
+"not my lips till I am your wife! Not my lips; only my hands!"
+
+He covered them with kisses.
+
+"Hush!" as she stepped back.
+
+It was time. Maurice and the countess entered the room. Maurice
+glanced from Madame to Fitzgerald and back to Madame; he frowned. The
+Englishman, who had never before had cause to dissemble, caught up his
+pipe and fumbled it. This act merely discovered his embarrassment to the
+keen eyes of his friend. He had forgotten all about Maurice. What would
+he say? Maurice was something like a conscience to him, and his heart
+grew troubled.
+
+"Madame," Maurice whispered to the countess, "I have lost all faith in
+you; you have kept me too long under the stars."
+
+"Confidences?" said Madame, with a swift inquiring glance at the
+countess.
+
+"O, no," said Maurice. "I simply complained that Madame the countess
+had kept me too long under the stars. But here is Colonel Mollendorf,
+freshly returned from Brunnstadt to inform you that the army is fully
+prepared for any emergency. Is not that true, Colonel?" as he beheld
+that individual standing in the doorway.
+
+"Yes; but how the deuce--your pardon, ladies!--did you find that out?"
+demanded the Colonel.
+
+"I guessed it," was the answer. "But there will be no need of an army
+now. Come, John, the Colonel, who is no relative of the king's minister
+of police, has not the trick of concealing his impatience. He has
+something important to say to Madame, and we are in the way. Come along,
+AEneas, follow your faithful Achates; Thalia has a rehearsal."
+
+Fitzgerald thrust his pipe into a pocket. "Good night, Madame," he said
+diffidently; "and you, countess."
+
+"Good night, Colonel," sang out Maurice over his shoulder, and together
+the pair climbed the stairs.
+
+Fitzgerald was at a loss how to begin, for something told him that
+Maurice would demand an explanation, though the affair was none of
+his concern. He filled his pipe, fired it and tramped about the room.
+Sometimes he picked up the end of a window curtain and felt of it;
+sometimes he posed before one of the landscape oils.
+
+"You have something on your mind," said Maurice, pulling off his hussar
+jacket and kicking it across the room.
+
+"Madame has promised to be my wife."
+
+"And the conditions?" curtly.
+
+Fitzgerald pondered over the other's lack of surprise. "What would you
+do if you loved a woman and she promised to be your wife?"
+
+"I'd marry her," sitting down at the table.
+
+"What would you do in my place, and Madame had promised to marry you?"
+puffing quickly.
+
+"I'd marry her," answered Maurice, banging his fist on the table, "even
+if all the kings and queens of Europe rose up against me. I would marry
+her, if I had to bind her hands and feet and carry her to the altar and
+force the priest at the point of a pistol, which, in all probability, is
+what you will have to do."
+
+"I love her," sullenly.
+
+"Do you know who she is?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Would it make any difference?"
+
+"No. Who is she?"
+
+"She is a woman without conscience; she is a woman who, to gain her
+miserable ends, will stop neither at falsehood, deceit nor bloodshed. Do
+you want me to tell you more? She is--"
+
+"Maurice, tell me nothing which will cause me to regret your friendship.
+I love her; she has promised to be my wife."
+
+"She will ruin you."
+
+"She has already done that," laconically.
+
+"Do you mean to tell me--"
+
+"Yes! For the promise of her love I am dishonored. For the privilege
+of kissing her lips I have sold my honor. To call her mine, I would go
+through hell. God! do you know what it is to be lonely, to starve in
+God-forsaken lands, to dream of women, to long for them?"
+
+"And the poor paralytic king?"
+
+"What is he to me?"
+
+"And your father?"
+
+"What are my dead father's wishes? Maurice, I am mad!"
+
+"You are a very sick man," Maurice replied crossly. "What's to become of
+all these vows--"
+
+"You are wasting your breath! Do you remember what Rochefoucauld said
+of Madame de Longueville?--`To win her heart, to delight her beautiful
+eyes, I have taken up arms against the king; I would have done the same
+against the gods!' Is she not worth it all?" with a gesture of his arms
+which sent the live coals of his pipe comet-like across the intervening
+space. "Is she not worth it all?"
+
+"Who?--Madame de Longueville? I thought she was dead these two hundred
+years!"
+
+"Damn it, Maurice!"
+
+"I will, if you say so. The situation is equal to a good deal of plain,
+honest damning." Maurice banged his fist again. "John, sit down and
+listen to me. I'll not sit still and see you made a fool. Promises?
+This woman will keep none. When she has wrung you dry she will fling
+you aside. At this moment she is probably laughing behind your back.
+You were brought here for this purpose. Threats and bribes were without
+effect. Love might accomplish what the other two had failed to do. You
+know little of the ways of the world. Do you know that this house party
+is scandalous, for all its innocence? Do you know that Madame's name
+would be a byword were it known that we have been here more than two
+weeks, alone with two women? Who but a woman that feels herself above
+convention would dare offer this affront to society? Do you know why
+Madame the countess came? Company for Madame? No; she was to play make
+love to me to keep me out of the way. Ass that I was, I never suspected
+till too late! Madame's name is not Sylvia Amerbach; it is--"
+
+The door opened unceremoniously and in walked the Colonel.
+
+"Your voices are rather high, gentlemen," he said calmly, and sat down
+in an easy chair.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. BEING OF COMPLICATIONS NOT RECKONED ON
+
+Maurice leaped to his feet, a menace in his eyes. The Colonel crossed
+his legs, rested his hands on the hilt of his saber, and smiled.
+
+"I could not resist the desire to have a friendly chat with you."
+
+"You have come cursed inopportune," snarled Maurice. "What do you want?"
+
+"I want to give you the countersigns, so that when you start for
+Bleiberg to-morrow morning you'll have no trouble."
+
+"Bleiberg!" exclaimed Maurice.
+
+"Bleiberg. Madame desires me to say to you that you are to start for
+that city in the morning, to fetch those slips of parchment which have
+caused us all these years of worry. Ah, my friend," to Fitzgerald,
+"Madame would be cheap at twenty millions! You sly dog! And I never
+suspected it."
+
+Fitzgerald sent him a scowl. "You are damned impertinent, sir."
+
+"Impertinent?" The Colonel uncrossed his legs and brought his knees
+together. "Madame has been under my care since she was a child,
+Monsieur; I have a fatherly interest in her. At any rate, I am glad that
+the affair is at an end. It was very noble in you. If I had had my way,
+though, it would have been war, pure and simple. I left the duchess in
+Brunnstadt this morning; she will be delighted to attend the wedding."
+
+"She will attend it," said Maurice, grimly; "but I would not lay odds on
+her delight. Colonel, the devil take me if I go to Bleiberg on any such
+errand." He went to the window seat.
+
+The Colonel rose and followed him. "Pardon me," he said to Fitzgerald,
+who did not feel at all complimented by Madame's haste; "a few words in
+Monsieur Carewe's ear. He will go to Bleiberg; he will be glad to go."
+He bent towards Maurice. "Go to Bleiberg, my son. A word to him about
+Madame, and off you go to Brunnstadt. Will you be of any use there?
+I think not. The little countess would cry out her pretty eyes if she
+heard that you were languishing in the city prison at Brunnstadt, where
+only the lowest criminals are confined. Submit gracefully, that is to
+say, like a soldier against whom the fortunes of war have gone. Go to
+Bleiberg."
+
+"I'll go. I give up." It was not the threat which brought him to this
+decision. It was a vision of a madonna-like face. "I'll go, John. Where
+are the certificates?"
+
+"Between the mattresses and the slats of my bed you will find a gun in
+a case. The certificates are in the barrels." His countenance did not
+express any particular happiness; the lines about his mouth were sharper
+than usual.
+
+"The devil!" cried the Colonel; "if only I had known that!" He laughed.
+"Well, I'll leave you. Six o'clock--what's this?" as he stooped and
+picked up Maurice's cast-off hussar jacket.
+
+"I was about to use it as a door mat," said Maurice, who was in a nasty
+humor. That Fitzgerald had surrendered did not irritate him half so
+much as the thought that he was the real puppet. His hands were tied, he
+could not act, and he was one that loved his share in games.
+
+The Colonel reddened under his tan. "No; I'll not lose my temper,
+though this is cause enough. Curse me, but you lack courtesy. This is my
+uniform, and whatever it may be to you it is sacred to me. You were not
+forced into it; you were not compelled to wear it. What would you do if
+a man wore your uniform and flung it around in this manner?"
+
+"I'd knock him down," Maurice admitted. "I apologize, Colonel; it was
+not manly. But you must make allowances; my good nature has suffered a
+severe strain. I'll get into my own clothes to-morrow if you will have
+a servant sew on some buttons and mend the collar. By the way, who is
+eating three meals a day in the east corridor on the third floor?"
+
+Their glances fenced. The Colonel rubbed his mustache.
+
+"I like you," he said; "hang me if I don't. But as well as I like you,
+I would not give a denier for your life if you were found in that
+self-same corridor. The sentinel has orders to shoot; but don't let that
+disturb you; you will know sooner or later. It is better to wait than be
+shot. A horse will be saddled at six. You will find it in the court. The
+countersigns are Weixel and Arnoldt. Good luck to you."
+
+"The same to you," rejoined Maurice, "only worse."
+
+The Colonel's departure was followed by a period of temporary
+speechlessness. Maurice smoked several "Khedives," while Fitzgerald
+emptied two or three pipe-bowls.
+
+"You seem to be in bad odor, Maurice," the latter ventured.
+
+"In more ways than one. Where, in heaven's name, did you resurrect that
+pipe?"
+
+"In the stables. It isn't the pipe, it's the tobacco. I had to break up
+some cigars."
+
+Then came another period in the conversation. It occurred to both that
+something yawned between them--a kind of abyss. Out of this abyss one
+saw his guilt arise.... A woman stood at his side. He had an accomplice.
+He had thrown the die, and he would stand stubbornly to it. His pride
+built yet another wall around him, impregnable either to protests or to
+sneers. He loved--that was recompense enough. A man will forgive himself
+of grave sins when these are debtors to his love.
+
+As for the other, he beheld a trust betrayed, and he was powerless to
+prevent it. Besides, his self-love smarted, chagrin made eyes at him;
+and, more than all else, he recognized his own share in the Englishman's
+fall from grace. It had been innocent mischief on his part, true, but
+nevertheless he stood culpable. He had no business to talk to a woman he
+did not know. The more he studied the aspects of the situation the more
+whimsical it grew. He was the prime cause of a king losing his throne,
+of a man losing his honor, of a princess becoming an outcast.
+
+"Your bride-elect," he said, "seems somewhat over-hasty. Well, I'm off
+to bed."
+
+"Maurice, can you blame me?"
+
+"No, John; whom the gods destroy they first make mad. You will come to
+your senses when it is too late."
+
+"For God's sake, Maurice, who is she?"
+
+"What will you do if she breaks her promise?" adroitly evading the
+question.
+
+"What shall I do?" He emptied the ashes from his pipe, and rose; all
+that was aggressive came into his face. "I will bind her hands and feet
+and carry her to the altar, and shoot the priest that refuses to marry
+us. O Maurice, rest easy; no woman lives who will make a fool of me, and
+laugh."
+
+"That's comfort;" and Maurice turned in.
+
+This night it was the Englishman who sat up till the morning hours.
+Sylvia Amerbach.... A fear possessed him. If it should be, he thought;
+if it should be, what then?
+
+
+
+Midnight in Madame's boudoir; no light save that which streamed rosily
+from the coals in the grate. The countess sat with her slippered feet
+upon the fender. She held in her hand a screen, and if any thoughts
+marked her face, they remained in blurred obscurity.
+
+"Heu!" said Madame from the opposite side; "it is all over. It was
+detestable. I, to suffer this humiliation! Do you know what I have done?
+I have promised to be his wife! His wife, I! Is it not droll?" There was
+a surprising absence of mirth in the low laugh which followed.
+
+"I trust Madame will find it droll."
+
+"And you?"
+
+"And I, Madame?"
+
+"Yes; did you not bring the clown to your feet?"
+
+"No, Madame."
+
+"How? You did not have the joy denied me--of laughing in his face?"
+
+"No, Madame." With each answer the voice grew lower.
+
+"Since when have I been Madame to you?"
+
+"Since to-day."
+
+Madame reached out a hand and pressed down the screen. "Elsa, what is
+it?"
+
+"What is what, Madame?"
+
+"This strange mood of yours."
+
+Silence.
+
+"You were gay enough this morning. Tell me."
+
+"There is nothing to tell, Madame, save that my sacrifices are at an
+end. I have nothing left."
+
+"What! You forsake me when the end is won?" in astonishment.
+
+"I did not say that I should desert you; I said that I had no more
+sacrifices to make." The Countess rose. "For your sake, Madame, because
+you have always been kind to me, and because it is impossible not to
+love you, I have degraded myself. I have pretended to love a man who saw
+through the artifice and told me so, to save me further shame. O Madame,
+it is all execrable!
+
+"And you will use this love which you have gained--this first love of
+a man who has known no other and will know no other while he lives!--to
+bring about his ruin? This other, at whose head you threw me--beware of
+him. He is light-hearted and gay, perhaps. You call him a clown; he
+is cunning and brave; and unless you judge him at his true value, your
+fabric of schemes will fall ere it reaches its culmination. Could even
+you trick him with words? No. You were compelled to use force. Is he not
+handsome, Madame?" with a feverish gaiety. "Is there a gentleman at your
+court who is a more perfect cavalier? Why, he blushes like a woman! Is
+there in your court--" But her sentence broke, and she could not go on.
+
+"Elsa, are you mad?"
+
+"Yes, Madame, yes; they call it a species of madness." Then, with a
+sudden gust of wrath: "Why did you not leave me in peace? You have
+destroyed me! O, the shame of it!" and she fled into her own room.
+
+Madame sat motionless. This, among other things, she had not reckoned
+on.
+
+Only the troopers and the servants slept in peace that night.
+
+Maurice was up betimes next morning. The hills and valleys lay under a
+mantle of sparkling rime, and the very air, keen of edge and whistling,
+glistened in the sunlight. The iron shoes of the horses beat sharply
+on the stone flooring of the court yard. Maurice examined his riding
+furniture; pulled at the saddle, tugged at the rein buckles, lifted the
+leather flaps and tried the stirrup straps. It was not that he doubted
+the ability of the groom; it was because this particular care was second
+nature to him.
+
+Fitzgerald watched him, and meditated. Some of his thoughts were not
+pleasant. His eyes were heavy. At times he would lift his shoulders and
+permit half a smile to flicker over his lips; a certain thought caused
+this. The Colonel sat astride a broad-chested cavalry horse, spotless
+white. He was going to accompany Maurice to the frontier. He had imbibed
+the exhilarating tonic of the morning, and his spirits ran high. At
+length Maurice leaped into the saddle, caught the stirrups well, and
+signaled to the Colonel that he was ready.
+
+"You understand, Maurice?" Fitzgerald asked.
+
+"Yes, John; all the world loves a lover. Besides, it is a glorious
+morning for a ride. Up, portcullis, down drawbridge!" waving his hand to
+the Colonel.
+
+And away they went through the gateway, into the frosted road. Maurice
+felt the spirit of some medieval ancestor creep into his veins and he
+longed for an hour of the feudal days, to rescue a princess from some
+dungeon-keep and to harry an over-lord. After all, she was a wonderful
+woman, and Fitzgerald was only a man. To give up all for the love of
+woman is the only sacrifice a man can make.
+
+"En avant!" cried the Colonel. "A fine day, a fine day for the house of
+Auersperg!"
+
+"And a devilish bad one for the houses of Fitzgerald and Carewe. Woman's
+ambition, coupled with her deceit, is the root of all evil; money is
+simply an invention of man to protect himself from her encroachments.
+Eve was ambitious and deceitful; all women are her daughters. When the
+pages of history grow dull--"
+
+"Time puts a maggot in my lady's brain," supplemented the Colonel. "It
+is like a row of dominoes. The power behind the throne, the woman behind
+the power; an impulse moves the woman, and lo! how they clatter down.
+But without woman, history would be poor reading. The greatest battles
+in the world, could we but see behind, were fought for women. Men are
+but footnotes, and unfortunately history is made up of footnotes. But it
+is a fine thing to be a footnote; that is my ambition.
+
+"Ah, if you but knew what a pleasure it is for an old man like me to
+have a finger in the game time plays! To meddle with affairs, directly
+or indirectly! Kingdoms are but judy shows, kings and queens but
+puppets; but we who pull the strings--Ah, that is it! To play a game of
+chess with crowns!"
+
+"There are exceptions; Madame seems to hold the strings in this
+instance."
+
+"Madame follows my advice in all she does."
+
+Maurice opened his eyes at this statement.
+
+"Would you believe an old man like me could lay such a train? All this
+was my idea. It was difficult to get Madame to agree with my views.
+War? I am not afraid of it; I am suspicious of it. One day your friend
+returned a personal letter of Madame's having written across it, `I
+laugh at you.' It was very foolish. No man laughs at Madame more than
+once. She will, one day, return this letter to him. A crown, a fine
+revenge, in one fell swoop."
+
+"She will ruin him utterly?"
+
+"Utterly."
+
+"Have you any idea what sort of man my friend is?"
+
+"He lacks the polish of a man of affairs, and he surrenders too easily."
+
+"He will never surrender--Madame."
+
+"How?"
+
+"You remember his father; he will prove his father's son, every inch of
+him. O, my Colonel, the curtain has only risen. One fine morning your
+duchy will wake up without a duchess."
+
+"What do you imply--an abduction?" The Colonel laughed.
+
+"That is my secret."
+
+"And the pretty countess?" banteringly.
+
+"It was rather bad taste in Madame. It was putting love and patriotism
+to questionable purposes. I am a gentleman."
+
+"It was out of consideration for you; Madame was not quite sure about
+you. But you are right; all of it has rather a dark shade. You may rob
+a man of his valuables and give them back; a broken word is not to be
+mended. Why did you keep the hiding place so secret? I could have got
+those consols, and all this would have been avoided."
+
+"How should I know where they were? It was none of my affair."
+
+"We are trusting you; I might have gone myself. You will return with the
+treasure. Why have I not asked your word? Curiosity will bring you back;
+curiosity. Besides this, you have an idea that with your presence about,
+a flaw in the glass may be found. Yes, you will be back. History is to
+be made; when you are old you will glance at the page and say: `Look
+there; rather a pretty bit, eh? Well, I helped to make it; indeed, had
+it not been for me and my curiosity it would not have been made at all.'
+Above all things, do not stop to talk to veiled women."
+
+There was a chuckling sound. "I say, your Englishman is clever now and
+then. In the gun barrels! Who would have looked for them there? But why
+did he come himself? Why did he not trust to his bankers? Why did he not
+turn over the affair to his representative, the British minister? There
+were a hundred ways of averting the catastrophe. Why did he not use
+a little fore-thought when he knew how anxious we were for his
+distinguished person?"
+
+"Why does the moon rise at night and the sun at dawn? I am no Cumaean
+Sybil. Perhaps it is the impulse which moves the woman behind the power
+behind the throne; they call it fate. Had I been in his place I dare say
+I should have followed his footsteps."
+
+Not long after they arrived at the frontier where they were to separate,
+to meet again under conditions disagreeable to both. The Colonel gave
+him additional instructions.
+
+"Go; return as quickly as possible."
+
+"Never fear; I should not like to miss the finale to this opera bouffe."
+
+"Rail on, my son; call it by any name you please, only do not interrupt
+the prompter;" and with this the Colonel waved him an adieu.
+
+Maurice began the journey through the mountain pass, thinking and
+planning and scheming. However he looked at the situation, the end
+was the same: the Osians were doomed. If he himself played false
+and retained the certificates until too late to be of benefit to the
+duchess, war would follow; and the kingdom would be soundly beaten....
+Would Prince Frederick still hold to his agreement and marry her Royal
+Highness, however ill the fortunes of war fared? There was a swift
+current of blood to his heart. The Voiture-verse of a countess faded
+away.... Supposing Prince Frederick withdrew his claims? Some day her
+Highness would be free; free, without title or money or shelter. It was
+a wild dream. Was there not, when all was said, a faint hope for his own
+affairs in the fall of Fitzgerald?
+
+She was lonely, friendless, personally known to few. Still, she would be
+an Osian princess for all her misfortunes. But an Osian princess was not
+so great that love might not possess her. Without royalty she would be
+only a woman. What would Austria do; what would Austria say? If Austria
+had placed Leopold on the throne, certainly it was to shut out the house
+of Auersperg.
+
+And who was this man Beauvais, who served one house openly and another
+under the rose? Where had he met him before, and why did the thought
+of him cause unrest? To rescue her somehow, to win her love, to see the
+glory of the world light the heavens in her eyes! If the dream was mad,
+it was no less pleasant.
+
+He was a commoner; he had nothing in the world but his brain and his
+arm. Fitzgerald, now, possessed a famous title and an ancient name.
+These kings and princes hereabout could boast of but little more than
+he; and there were millions to back him. He could dream of princesses
+and still be sane. Maurice did not envy the Englishman's riches, but he
+coveted his right of way.
+
+How often had he indulged in vain but pleasant dreams! Even in the old
+days he was always succoring some proud beauty in distress. Sometimes
+it was at sea, sometimes in railroad wrecks, sometimes in the heart of
+flames; but he was ever there, like a guardian angel. It was never the
+same heroine, but that did not matter; she was always beautiful and
+rich, high placed and lovable, and he never failed to brush aside all
+obstacles that beset the path to the church door. He had dreamed of
+paladins, and here at last was his long-sought opportunity--but he could
+do nothing! He laughed. How many such romances lay beneath the banter
+and jest of those bald bachelor diplomat friends of his? Had fate
+reserved him for one of these?
+
+It was noon when he entered the city of Bleiberg. He went directly to
+his hotel, where a bath and a change of clothes took the stiffness from
+his limbs. He was in no great hurry to go to the Grand Hotel; there was
+plenty of time. Happily there was no mail for him; he was not needed in
+Vienna.
+
+At two o'clock he set out for the lower town. On the way he picked up
+odd ends of news. The king was rapidly sinking; he had suffered another
+stroke, and was now without voice. There was unusual activity in
+the barracks. The students of the university were committing mild
+depredations, such as building bonfires, holding flambeau processions,
+and breaking windows which contained the photographs of Prince Frederick
+of Carnavia, who, strangely enough, was still wrapt in obscurity. When
+Maurice entered the Grand Hotel he looked casually among the porters,
+but the round-faced one was missing. He approached the desk. The
+proprietor did not recognize him.
+
+"No, my friend," said Maurice, affably, as a visitors' book was pushed
+forward, "I am not going to sign. Instead, I wish to ask a favor. A week
+ago a party of the king's troopers met upstairs."
+
+The proprietor showed signs of returning memory, together with a strange
+agitation.
+
+"There was a slight disturbance," went on Maurice, still using the
+affable tone. "Herr--ah--Hamilton, I believe--"
+
+The proprietor grew limp and yellow. "I--I do not know where he is."
+
+"I do," replied Maurice. "Don't you recognize me? Have I changed so
+since I came here to doctor a sprained ankle?"
+
+"You?--Before God, Herr, I was helpless; I had nothing to do with it!"
+terrified at the peculiar smile of the victim.
+
+"The key to this gentleman's room," was the demand.
+
+"I--"
+
+"The key, and be quick about it."
+
+The key came forth. "You will say nothing, Herr; it would ruin my
+business. It was a police affair."
+
+"Has any one been in this room since?"
+
+"No, Herr; the key has been in my pocket."
+
+"Where is the porter who brought me here?"
+
+"He was not a porter; he was with the police."
+
+Maurice passed up the stairs. He found the room in disorder, but a
+disorder rather familiar to his eyes. He had been the cause of most of
+it. Here was where he broke the baron's arm and thumped three others on
+the head. It had been a good fight. Here was a hole in the wall where
+one of the empty revolvers had gone--missing the Colonel's head by an
+inch.
+
+There was a smudge on the carpet made by the falling candles. He saw
+Fitzgerald's pipe and picked it up. No; the chamber maid had not yet
+been there. He went over to the bed, stared at it and shrugged. He
+raised the mattress. There was the gun case. He drew it forth and took
+out the gun, not, however, without a twist of his nerves.
+
+Four millions of crowns, a woman's love, the fall of one dynasty and the
+rise of another, all wadded in those innocent looking gun barrels!
+He hesitated for a space, then unlocked the breech and held the tubes
+toward the window. There was nothing in the barrels, nothing but the
+golden sunlight, which glinted along the polished steel.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. QUI M'AIME, AIME MON CHIEN
+
+On making this discovery Maurice was inclined to declaim in that
+vigorous vocabulary which is taboo. He had been tricked. He was no
+longer needed at the Red Chateau. Four millions in a gun barrel; hoax
+was written all over the face of it, and yet he had been as unsuspicious
+as a Highland gillie. Madame had tricked him; the countess had tricked
+him, the Colonel and Fitzgerald.
+
+That Madame had tricked him created no surprise; what irritated him most
+was the conviction that Fitzgerald was laughing in his sleeve, and that
+he had misjudged the Englishman's capacity for dissimulation. Very well.
+He threw the gun on the bed; he took Fitzgerald's pipe from his pocket
+and cast it after the gun, and with a gesture which placed all the
+contents of the room under the ban of his anathema, he strode out into
+the corridor, thence to the office.
+
+Here the message to Madame from Beauvais flashed back. The Colonel of
+the royal cuirassiers had lied; he had found the certificates. But still
+there was a cloud of mystery; to what use could Beauvais put them? He
+threw the key to the landlord.
+
+"You lied to me when you said that no one had entered that room," he
+said.
+
+"O, Herr, I told you that no one but the police had been in the room
+since your departure. They made a search the next morning. Herr Hamilton
+was suspected of being a spy of the duchy's. I could not interfere with
+the police."
+
+Maurice saw that there was nothing to be got from the landlord, who was
+as much in the dark as he. He passed into the street and walked without
+any particular end in view. O, he would return to the Red Chateau, if
+only to deliver himself of the picturesque and opinionated address on
+Madame. Once he saw his reflection in a window glass, and he stopped and
+muttered at it.
+
+"Eh, bien, as Madame herself says, we develop with crises, and certainly
+there is one not far distant. I never could write what I wish to say to
+Madame; I'll go back to-morrow morning."
+
+Situated between the university and the Grand Hotel on the left hand
+side of the Konigstrasse, east, stood an historical relic of the days
+when Austria, together with the small independent states, strove to
+shake off the Napoleonic yoke. In those days students formed secret
+societies; societies full of strange ritual, which pushed devotion
+to fanaticism, which stopped at nothing, not even assassination. To
+exterminate the French, to regain their ancestral privileges, to rescue
+their country from its prostrate humiliation, many sacrificed their
+lives and their fortunes.
+
+Napoleon found no means of reaching these patriots, for they could not
+be purchased. This convinced Napoleon of their earnestness, for he could
+buy kings and princes. The students were invisible, implacable, and many
+a brilliant officer of the imperial guard disappeared, never to return.
+
+This historic relic of the Konigstrasse had been the headquarters of one
+of the branches of these numerous societies; and the students still held
+to those ancient traditions. But men and epochs pass swiftly; only the
+inanimate remain. This temple of patriotism is simply an inn to-day,
+owned by one Stuler, and is designated by those who patronize it as "Old
+Stuler's." It is the gathering place of the students. It consists of a
+hall and a garden, the one facing the street, the other walled in at the
+rear.
+
+The hall is made of common stone, bald and unadorned save by four dingy
+windows and a tarnished sign, "Garten," which hangs obliquely over the
+entrance. At the curb stands a post with three lamps pendant; but these
+are never lit because Old Stuler can keep neither wicks nor glass beyond
+the reach of canes.
+
+Old Stuler was well versed in the peculiarities of students. In America
+they paint statues; in Austria they create darkness. On warm, clear
+nights the students rioted in the garden; when it rained, chairs and
+tables were carried into the hall, which contained a small stage and a
+square gallery. Never a night passed without its animated scene.
+
+Here it was that the evils of monarchical systems were discussed, the
+army service, the lack of proper amusement, the restrictions at the
+stage entrance to the opera; here it was that they concocted their
+exploits, fought their duels, and planned means of outwitting Old
+Stuler's slate.
+
+Stuler was a good general; he could keep the students in order, watch
+his assistants draw beer, the Rhine wine, and the scum (dregs of the
+cask, muddy and strong), and eye the accumulating accounts on the
+slate. This slate was wiped out once the month; that is to say, when
+remittances came from home. The night following remittances was a
+glorious one both to Stuler and the students. There were new scars, new
+subjects for debate, and Stuler got rid of some of his prime tokayer.
+The politics of the students was socialism, which is to say they were
+always dissatisfied. Tourists seldom repeated their visits to Stuler's.
+There was too much spilling of beer in laps, dumping of pipe ash into
+uncovered steins, and knocking off of stiff hats.
+
+It was in front of Old Stuler's that Maurice came to a pause. He had
+heard of the place and the praise of its Hofbrau and Munich beers. He
+entered. He found the interior dark and gloomy, though outside the sun
+shone brilliantly. He ordered a stein of Hofbrau, and carried it into
+the main hall, which was just off the bar-room. It was much lighter
+here, though the hall had the tawdry appearance of a theater in the
+day-time; and the motes swam thickly in the beams of sunshine which
+entered through the half-closed shutters. It was only at night that
+Stuler's was presentable.
+
+Scarcely a dozen men sat at the tables. In one corner Maurice saw what
+appeared to be a man asleep on his arms, which were extended the width
+of the table. It was the cosiest corner in the hall, and Maurice decided
+to establish himself at the other side of the table, despite the present
+incumbent. Noiselessly he crossed the floor and sat down. The light was
+at his back, leaving his face in the shadow, but shone squarely on the
+sleeper's head.
+
+"I do not envy his headache when he wakes up," thought Maurice. He had
+detected the vinous odor of the sleeper's breath. "These headaches,
+while they last, are bad things. I know; I've had 'em. I wonder,"
+lifting the stein and draining it, "who the duffer was who said that
+getting drunk was fun? His name has slipped my memory; no matter." He
+set down the stein and banged the lid.
+
+The sleeper stirred. "Rich," he murmured; "rich, rich! I'm rich! A
+hundred thousand crowns!"
+
+"My friend, I'm not in the position to dispute with you on that
+subject," said Maurice, smiling. He rapped the stein again.
+
+The sleeper raised his head and stared stupidly,
+
+"Rich, aye, rich!" He was still in half a dream. "Rich, I say!"
+
+"Hang it, I'm not arguing on that," Maurice laughed.
+
+The other swung upright at this, his round, oily face sodden, his black
+eyes blinking. He threw off the stupor when he saw that it was a man and
+not the shadow of one.
+
+"Who the devil are you?" he asked, thickly.
+
+Maurice seldom forgot a face. He recognized this one. "Oho!" he said,
+"so it's you, eh? I did not expect to meet you. Happily I had you in
+mind. You are not employed at present as a porter at the Grand Hotel? So
+it is you, my messenger!"
+
+"Who are you and what are you talking about? I don't know you."
+
+"Wait a moment and I'll refresh your memory." Maurice theatrically
+thrust a cigar between his teeth and struck a match. As the flame
+illumined his features the questioner started. "So you do not recognize
+me, eh? You haven't the slightest remembrance of Herr Hamilton and his
+sprained ankle, eh? Sit down or I'll break your head with this stein,
+you police spy!" dropping the bantering tone.
+
+The other sat down, but he whistled sharply; and Maurice saw the dozen
+or so rise from the other tables and come hurriedly in his direction. He
+pushed back his chair and rose, his teeth firmly embedded in the cigar,
+and waited.
+
+"What's the trouble, Kopf?" demanded the newcomers.
+
+"This fellow accuses me of being a spy and threatens to break my head."
+
+"O! break your head, is it? Let us see. Come, brothers; out with this
+fellow."
+
+Maurice saw that they were about to charge him, and his hand went to his
+hip pocket and rested on the butt of the revolver which the Colonel had
+given him. "Gentlemen," he said, quietly, "I have no discussion with
+you. I have a pistol in my pocket, and I'm rather handy with it. I
+desire to talk to this man, and talk to him I will. Return to your
+tables; the affair doesn't concern you."
+
+The intended assault did not materialize. They scowled, but retired a
+few paces. They saw the movement toward the hip pocket, and they noted
+the foreign twist of the tongue. Moreover, they did not like the angle
+of the speaker's jaws. They shuffled, looked questioningly at one
+another, and, as if all of a single mind, went slowly back to their
+chairs. Kopf grew pale. Indeed, his pallor was out of all proportion
+with the affair, which Maurice took to be no more than a comedy.
+
+"Brothers," he said, huskily, "he will not dare."
+
+"Don't you doubt it for a moment," interrupted Maurice, taking out the
+revolver and fondling it. "Any interference will mean one or more cases
+for the hospital. Come, I'm not the police," to Kopf. "I am not going
+to hurt you. I wish only to ask you a few questions, which is my right
+after what has passed between us. We'll go to my hotel, where we shan't
+be disturbed."
+
+Together they left the hall. As they passed through the bar-room Stuler
+looked questions, but refrained from asking them. Maurice put away the
+revolver. As they went out into the street he drew Kopf's arm within his
+own.
+
+"What do you want?" asked Johann, savagely.
+
+"First. What is your place in this affair?"
+
+"What affair?"
+
+"The abduction."
+
+"I had nothing to do with it, Herr, on my honor. I was only a porter,
+and I supposed my errand was in good faith."
+
+"How about the gentle push you gave me when the door opened? My friend,
+I'm no infant. Lies will do you no good. I know everything, and wish
+only to verify. You are a police spy, in the employ of the duchess."
+Maurice felt the arm draw, and bore down on it.
+
+"If I was, do you suppose I'd fool my time on this side of the
+Thalians?" Johann shrugged.
+
+"I'm not sure about that," said Maurice, puffing into Johann's face.
+"When cabinet ministers play spy, small fry like you will not cavil at
+the occupation. And you are not in their pay?" Johann glared. "I want
+to know," Maurice went on, "what you know; what you know of Colonel
+Beauvais, his plans, his messengers to the duchy, what is taking place
+underneath."
+
+Johann's face cleared and a cunning light brightened his eyes. "If that
+is all you are after, I'll tell you. I'm a spy no longer; they have no
+more use for me, despite their promises. I'll play them off for quits."
+
+"If that's all," repeated Maurice, "what did you think I wanted to ask
+you?"
+
+Johann bit his lip. "I'm wanted badly by the chancellor, curse you, if
+you must know. I thought he might be behind you."
+
+"Don't worry about that," said Maurice, to whom this declaration seemed
+plausible. "We'll talk as we go along."
+
+And Johann loosened his tongue and poured into Maurice's ear a tale
+which, being half a truth, had all the semblance of straightforwardness.
+What he played for was time; to gain time and to lull his captor's
+suspicions. Maurice was not familiar with the lower town; Johann was.
+A few yards ahead there was an alley he knew, and once in it he could
+laugh at all pursuit. It might be added that if Maurice knew but little
+of the lower town, he knew still less about Johann.
+
+Suddenly, in the midst of his narrative, Johann put his leg stiffly
+between his enemy's and gave a mighty jerk with his arm, with the result
+that Maurice, wholly unprepared, went sprawling to the pavement. He was
+on his feet in an instant, but Johann was free and flying up the alley.
+Maurice gave chase, but uselessly. Johann had disappeared. The alley was
+a cul de sac, but was lined with doors; and these Maurice hammered to
+ease his conscience. No one answered. Deeply disgusted with his lack of
+caution, Maurice regained the street, where he brushed the dust from his
+knees.
+
+"I'll take it out of his hide the next time we meet. He wasn't worth the
+trouble, anyway."
+
+A sybil might have whispered in his ear that a very large fish had
+escaped his net, but Maurice continued, conscious of nothing save
+chagrin and a bruised knee. He resumed the piecing together of events,
+or rather he attempted to; very few pieces could be brought together. If
+Beauvais had the certificates, what was his object in lying to Madame?
+What benefit would accrue to him? After all, it was a labyrinth of paths
+which always brought him up to the beginning. He drooped his shoulders
+dejectedly. There was nothing left for him to do but return to the Red
+Chateau and inform them of the fruitlessness of his errand. He would
+start on the morrow. Tonight he wanted once more to hear the band,
+to wander about the park, to row around the rear of the archbishop's
+garden.
+
+"A fine thing to be born in purple--sometimes," he mused. "I never knew
+till now the inconveniences of the common mold."
+
+He tramped on, building chateaux en Espagne. That they tumbled down did
+not matter; he could rebuild in the space of a second, and each castle
+an improvement on its predecessor.
+
+His attention was suddenly drawn away from this idle but pleasant
+pursuit. In a side street he saw twenty or thirty students surging back
+and forth, laughing and shouting and jostling. In the center of this
+swaying mass canes rose and fell. It was a fight, and as he loved a
+fight, Maurice pressed his hat firmly on his head and veered into
+the side street. He looked around guiltily, and was thankful that no
+feminine eyes were near to offer him their reproaches. He jostled among
+the outer circle, but could see nothing. He stooped. Something white
+flashed this way and that, accompanied by the sound of low growls. A dog
+fight was his first impression, and he was on the point of leaving, for,
+while he secretly enjoyed the sight of two physically perfect men waging
+battle, he had not the heart to see two brutes pitted against each
+other, goaded on by brutes of a lower caste. But even as he turned the
+crowd opened and closed, and the brief picture was enough for him.
+
+Her dog! And the students were beating it because they knew it to be
+defenseless. Her dog! toothless and old, who could not hold when his
+jaws closed on an arm or leg, but who, with that indomitable courage of
+his race, fought on and on, hopelessly and stubbornly.
+
+He was covered with blood, one of his legs was hurt, but still the
+spirit burned. It was cowardly. Maurice's jaws assumed a particularly
+ferocious angle. Her dog! Rage choked him. With an oath he flung this
+student aside and that, fought his way to the center. A burly student,
+armed with a stout cane, was the principal aggressor.
+
+Maurice doubled his fist and swung a blow which had one hundred and
+sixty pounds behind it, and it landed squarely on the cheek of the
+student, who dropped face downward and lay still. This onslaught was so
+sudden and unexpected that the students were confounded. But Maurice,
+whose plans crystallized in moments like these, picked up the cane and
+laid it about him.
+
+The students swore and yelled and stumbled over one another in their
+wild efforts to dodge the vindictive cane. Maurice cleared a wide
+circle. The dog, half blinded by his blood and not fully comprehending
+this new phase in the tide of events, lunged at Maurice, who nimbly
+eluded him. Finally the opportunity came. He flung the cane into the
+yelling pack, with his left arm caught the dog about the middle, and
+leaped back into the nearest doorway. The muscles of his left arm were
+sorely tried; the dog considered his part in the fray by no means ended,
+and he tugged and yelped huskily. With his right hand Maurice sought his
+revolver, cocked and leveled it. There came a respite. The students
+had not fully recovered from their surprise, and the yells sank into
+murmurs.
+
+"You curs!" said Maurice, panting. "Shame on you! and an old dog that
+can't defend himself! You knew he had no teeth."
+
+"God save your Excellency!" laughed a student in the rear, who had not
+tasted the cane; "you may be sure we knew he had no teeth or we wouldn't
+have risked our precious calves. Don't let him scare you with the
+popgun, comrades. At him, my brave ones; he will be more sport than the
+dog! Down with the Osians, dogs, followers and all!"
+
+"Come on, then," said Maurice, whose fighting blood was at heat. "Come
+on, if you think it isn't over. There are six bullets in this popgun,
+and I don't give a particular damn where they go. Come on!"
+
+Whether or not this challenge would have been accepted remains
+unwritten. There now came on the air the welcome sound of galloping
+hoofs, and presently two cuirassiers wheeled into the street. What
+Maurice had left undone with the cane the cuirassiers completed with the
+flat of their sabers. They had had a brush with the students the night
+before, and they went at them as if determined to take both interest and
+principal. The students dispersed like leaves in the wind--all save one.
+He rose to his feet, his hands covering his jaw and a dazed expression
+in his eyes. He saw Maurice with the revolver, the cuirassiers with
+their sabers, and the remnant of his army flying to cover, and he
+decided to follow their example. The scene had changed somewhat since he
+last saw it. He slunk off at a zigzag trot.
+
+One of the cuirassiers dismounted, his face red from his exertions.
+
+"Eh?" closely scanning Maurice's white face. "Well, well! is it you,
+Monsieur Carewe?"
+
+"Lieutenant von Mitter?" cried Maurice, dropping the dog, who by now had
+grasped the meaning of it all. "You came just in time!"
+
+They shook hands.
+
+"I'll lay odds that you put up a good fight," the Lieutenant said,
+pleasantly. "Curse these students! If I had my way I'd coop them all up
+in their pest-hole of a university and blow them into eternity."
+
+"And how did the dog come in this part of the town?" asked Maurice,
+picking up his hat.
+
+"He was with her Royal Highness. This is charity afternoon. She drives
+about giving alms to the poor, and when she enters a house the dog
+stands at the entrance to await her return. She came out of another door
+and forgot the dog. Max there remembered him only when we were several
+blocks away. A dozen or so of those rascally students stood opposite us
+when we stopped here. It flashed on me in a minute why the dog did not
+follow us. And we came back at a cut, leaving her Highness with no one
+but the groom. Max, take the dog to her Highness, and tell her that it
+is Monsieur Carewe who is to be thanked."
+
+Maurice blushed. "Say nothing of my part in the fracas. It was nothing
+at all."
+
+"Don't be modest, my friend," said the cuirassier, laughing, while his
+comrade dismounted, took the dog under his arm, and made off. "This is
+one chance in a lifetime. Her Royal Highness will insist on thanking
+you personally. O, I know Mademoiselle's caprices. And there's your
+hat, crushed all out of shape. Truly, you are unfortunate with your
+headgear."
+
+"It's felt," said Maurice, slapping it against his leg. "No harm done to
+the hat. Well, good day to you, Lieutenant, and thanks. I must be off."
+
+"Nay, nay!" cried the Lieutenant. "Wait a moment. `There is a tide in
+the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood--' How does that line go?
+I was educated in England and speak English as I do my mother tongue--"
+
+"Won't you let me go?" asked Maurice. "Look at my clothes."
+
+"You ought to be thankful that they are dry this time. Come; you'll have
+a good story to carry back to Vienna. Princesses do not eat people."
+
+"No," said Maurice.
+
+"Ye gods, listen to that! One would think by the tone of your voice that
+you wished they did!"
+
+There was no resisting this good humor; and Maurice wanted only an
+excuse to wait. He sat down on the steps, sucked the knuckles of his
+hand, and contemplated the grin on the cuirassier's face.
+
+"I like you," said the Lieutenant; "I like your sangfroid. The palace is
+a devil of a dull place, and a new face is a positive relief. I suppose
+you know that affairs here are bad; no honesty anywhere. Everybody has
+his hands tied. The students know this, and do as they please. Think of
+two hundred gendarmes in the city, and an affair like this takes place
+without one of them turning up!
+
+"I tell you frankly that it is all I can do to withhold the edge of my
+saber when I meet those students. Last night they held a noisy flambeau
+procession around the Hohenstaufenplatz, knowing full well that the king
+had had another stroke and quiet was necessary. They would have waked
+the dead. I have an idea that I forgot to use the flat of my sword; at
+least, the hospital report confirms my suspicions. Ah, here comes Max."
+
+"Her Royal Highness desires to thank Monsieur Carewe, and commands that
+he be brought to her carriage."
+
+Lieutenant von Mitter smiled, and Maurice stood up and brushed himself.
+The troopers sprang into the saddle and started on a walk, with Maurice
+bringing up behind on foot. The thought of meeting the princess,
+together with his recent exertions, created havoc with his nerves. When
+he arrived at the royal carriage, his usual coolness forsook him. He
+fumbled with his hat, tongue-tied. He stood in the Presence.
+
+"Monsieur," said the Voice, "I thank you with all my heart for your
+gallant service. Poor, poor dog!"
+
+"It was nothing, your Highness; any man would have done the same thing."
+The red in the wheel-spokes bothered his eyes.
+
+"No, no! you must not belittle it."
+
+"If it had not been for Lieutenant von Mitter--"
+
+"Whither were you going, Monsieur?" interrupted the Voice.
+
+"Nowhere; that is, I was going toward my hotel."
+
+"The Continental?"
+
+"Yes, your Highness."
+
+"Step into the carriage, Monsieur;" the Voice had the ring of command.
+"I will put you down there. It is the least that I can do to show my
+gratitude."
+
+"I--I to ride with your Highness?" he stammered. "O, no! I--that is--it
+would scarcely be--"
+
+"You are not afraid of me, Monsieur?" with a smile which, though it had
+a bit of the rogue in it, was rather sad. She moved to the other side of
+the seat and put the dog on the rug at her feet. "Perhaps you are proud?
+Well, Monsieur, I too am proud; so proud that I promise never to forgive
+you if you refuse to gratify my wish."
+
+"I was not thinking of myself, your Highness, or rather I was. I am not
+presentable. Look at me; my hat is out of shape, my clothes dusty, and I
+dare say that my face needs washing."
+
+The Presence replied to this remarkable defense with laughter, laughter
+in which Maurice detected an undercurrent of bitterness.
+
+"Monsieur Carewe, you are not acquainted with affairs in Bleiberg, or
+you would know that I am a nobody. When I pass through the streets I
+attract little attention, I receive no homage. Enter: I command it."
+
+"If your Highness commands--"
+
+"I do command it," imperiously. "And you would have pleased me more
+fully if you had accepted the invitation and not obeyed the command."
+
+"I withdraw all objections," he said hastily, "and accept the
+invitation."
+
+"That is better," the Voice said.
+
+Maurice, still uncovered, sat down on the front seat.
+
+"Not there, Monsieur; beside me. Etiquette does not permit you to ride
+in front of me."
+
+As he took the vacant place beside her he felt a fire in his cheeks. The
+Voice and Presence were disquieting. As the groom touched the horses,
+Maurice was sensible of her sleeve against his, and he drew away. The
+Presence appeared unmindful.
+
+"And you recognize me?" she asked.
+
+"Yes, your Highness." He tried to remember what he had said to her that
+day in the archbishop's garden. Two or three things came back and the
+color remounted his cheeks.
+
+"Have you forgotten what you said to me?"
+
+"I dare say I was impertinent," vaguely.
+
+"Ah, you have forgotten, then!"
+
+In all his life he never felt so ill at ease. To what did she refer?
+That he would be proud to be her friend? That if the princess was as
+beautiful as the maid he could pass judgment?
+
+"Yes, you have forgotten. Do you not remember that you offered to be
+my friend?" She read him through and through, his embarrassment, the
+tell-tale color in his cheeks. She laughed, and there was nothing but
+youth in the laughter. "Certainly you are afraid of me."
+
+"I confess I am," he said. "I can not remember all I said to you."
+
+Suddenly she, too, remembered something, and it caused the red of the
+rose to ripple from her throat to her eyes. "Poor dog! Not that they
+hated him, but because I love him!" Tears started to her eyes. "See,
+Monsieur Carewe; princesses are human, they weep and they love. Poor
+dog! My playmate and my friend. But for you they might have killed him.
+Tell me how it happened." She knew, but she wanted to hear the story
+from his own lips.
+
+His narrative was rather disjointed, and he slipped in von Mitter as
+many times as possible, thinking to do that individual a good turn.
+Perhaps she noticed it, for at intervals she smiled. During the telling
+he took out his handkerchief, wiped the dog's head with it, and wound it
+tightly about the injured leg. The dog knew; he wagged his tail.
+
+How handsome and brave, she thought, as she observed the face in
+profile. Not a day had passed during the fortnight gone that she had not
+conjured up some feature of that intelligent countenance; sometimes it
+had been the eyes, sometimes the chin and mouth, sometimes the shapely
+head. It was wrong; but this little sin was so sweet. She had never
+expected to see him again. He had come and gone, and she had thought
+that the beginning and the end. Ah, if only she were not a princess! If
+only some hand would sweep aside those insurmountable barriers called
+birth and policy! To be free, to be the mistress of one's heart, one's
+dreams, one's desires!
+
+"And you did it all alone," she said, softly; "all alone."
+
+"O, I had the advantage; I was not expected. It was all over before they
+knew what had happened."
+
+"And you had the courage to take a poor dog's part? Did you know whose
+dog it was?"
+
+"Yes, your Highness, I recognized him."
+
+A secret gladness stole into her heart, and to cover the flame which
+again rose to her cheeks, she bent and smoothed the dog's head. This
+gave Maurice an opportunity to look at her. What a beautiful being
+she was! He was actually sitting beside her, breathing the same
+air, listening to her voice. She exhaled a delicate perfume such as
+incorporates itself in persons of high degree and becomes a natural
+emanation, an incense vague and indescribable. He felt that he was
+gazing on the culmination of youth, beauty, and elegance... Yes,
+Fitzgerald was right. To beggar one's self for love; honor and life, and
+all to the winds if only love remained.
+
+Presently she straightened, and he centered his gaze on the back of the
+groom.
+
+"Monsieur, place your hat upon your head," smiling. "We have entered the
+Strasse, and I should not like to embarrass you with the attention of
+the citizens."
+
+He put on his hat. The impulse came to tell her all that he knew in
+regard to the kingdom's affairs; but his voice refused its offices.
+Besides, it was too late; the carriage was rolling into the Platz, and
+in a moment more it drew up before the terrace of the Continental Hotel.
+Maurice stepped out and bared his head.
+
+"This evening, Monsieur, at nine, I shall expect to see you at the
+archbishop's reception to the corps diplomatique." A hand was extended
+toward him. He did not know what to do about it. "I am offering you my
+hand to kiss, Monsieur Carewe; it is a privilege which I do not extend
+to all."
+
+As he touched it to his lips, he was sure that a thousand pairs of eyes
+were centered on him. The truth is, there were less than one hundred.
+It was the first time in many months that the Crown Princess had stopped
+before the Continental Hotel. To the guests it was an event; and some
+even went as far as to whisper that the handsome young man was Prince
+Frederick, incognito.
+
+"God save your Royal Highness," said Maurice, at loss for other words.
+He released her hand and stepped back.
+
+"Until this evening, then, Monsieur;" and the royal barouche rolled
+away.
+
+"Who loves me, loves my dog," said Maurice, as he sped to his room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. IN WHICH FORTUNE BECOMES CARELESS AND PRODIGAL
+
+On the night prior to the arrival of Maurice in Bleiberg, there happened
+various things of moment.
+
+At midnight the chancellor left the palace, after having witnessed from
+a window the meeting of the cuirassiers and the students, and sought
+his bed; but his sleep was burdened with troubled dreams. The clouds,
+lowering over his administration, thickened and darkened. How many times
+had he contemplated resigning his office, only to put aside the thought
+and toil on?
+
+Defeat in the end was to be expected, but still there was ever that star
+of hope, a possible turn in affairs which would carry him on to victory.
+Victory is all the sweeter when it seems impossible. Prince Frederick
+had disappeared, no one knew where, the peasant girl theory could
+no longer be harbored, and the wedding was but three days hence. The
+Englishman had not stepped above the horizon, and the telegrams to the
+four ends of the world returned unanswered. Thus, the chancellor stood
+alone; the two main props were gone from under. As he tossed on his
+pillows he pondered over the apparent reticence and indifference of the
+archbishop.
+
+All was still in the vicinity of the palaces. Sentinels paced
+noiselessly within the enclosures. In the royal bedchamber the king was
+resting quietly, and near by, on a lounge, the state physician dozed.
+The Captain of the household troop of cuirassiers nodded in the
+ante-room.
+
+Only the archbishop remained awake. He sat in his chamber and wrote. Now
+and then he would moisten his lips with watered wine. Sometimes he held
+the pen in midair, and peered into the shapeless shadows cast by the
+tapers, his broad forehead shining and deep furrows between his eyes.
+On, on he wrote. Perhaps the archbishop was composing additional
+pages to his memoirs, for occasionally his thin lips relaxed into an
+impenetrable smile.
+
+There was little quiet in the lower town, especially in the locality of
+the university. Old Stuler's was filled with smoke, students and tumult.
+Ill feeling ran high. There were many damaged heads, for the cuirassiers
+had not been niggard with their sabers.
+
+A student walked backward and forward on the stage, waving wildly with
+his hands to command attention. It was some time before he succeeded.
+
+"Fellow-students, brothers of freedom and comrades," he began. "All
+this must come to an end, and that at once. Our personal liberty
+is endangered. Our rights are being trodden under foot. Our ancient
+privileges are being laughed at. It must end." This declaration was
+greeted by shouts, sundry clattering of pewter lids and noisy rappings
+of earthenware on the tables. "Have we no rights as students? Must we
+give way to a handful of beggarly mercenaries? Must we submit to the
+outlawing of our customs and observances? What! We must not parade
+because the king does not like to be disturbed? And who are the
+cuirassiers?" Nobody answered. Nobody was expected to answer. "They are
+Frenchmen of hated memory--Swiss, Prussians, with Austrian officers. Are
+we or are we not an independent state? If independent, shall we stand by
+and see our personal liberties restricted? No! I say no!
+
+"Let us petition to oust these vampires, who not only rob us of our
+innocent amusements, but who are fed by our taxes. What right had
+Austria to dictate our politics? What right had she to disavow the blood
+and give us these Osians? O, my brothers, where are the days of Albrecht
+III of glorious memory? He acknowledged our rights. He was our lawful
+sovereign. He understood and loved us." This burst of sentiment was
+slightly exaggerative, if the history of that monarch is to be relied
+on; but the audience was mightily pleased with this recollection. It
+served to add to their distemper and wrath against the Osian puppet.
+"And where are our own soldiers, the soldiers of the kingdom? Moldering
+away in the barracks, unnoticed and forgotten. For the first time in the
+history of the country foreigners patrol the palaces. Our soldiers are
+nobodies. They hold no office at court save that of Marshal, and his
+voice is naught. Yet the brunt of the soldier's life falls on them. They
+watch at the frontiers, tireless and vigilant, while the mercenaries
+riot and play. Brothers, the time has come for us to act. The army is
+with us, and so are the citizens. Let ours be the glory of touching the
+match. We are brave and competent. We are drilled. We lack not courage.
+Let us secretly arm and watch for the opportunity to strike a blow for
+our rights. Confusion to the Osians, and may the duchess soon come into
+her own!"
+
+He jumped from the stage, and another took his place; the haranguing
+went on. The orators were serious and earnest; they believed themselves
+to be patriots, pure and simple, when in truth they were experiencing
+the same spirit of revolt as the boy whose mother had whipped him for
+making an unnecessary noise, or stealing into the buttery.
+
+While the excitement was at its height, a man, somewhat older than the
+majority of the students, entered the bar-room from the street, and
+lounged heavily against the railing. His clothes were soiled and
+wrinkled, blue circles shadowed his eyes, which were of dull jet, the
+corners of his mouth drooped dejectedly, and his oily face, covered with
+red stubble, gave evidences of a prolonged debauch.
+
+"Wine, Stuler, wine!" he called, laying down a coin, which gleamed dimly
+yellow in the opalescent light. "And none of your devilish vinegars and
+scums."
+
+Stuler pounced on the coin and rubbed it between his palms. "Gold,
+Johann, gold?"
+
+"Aye, gold; and the last of a pocketful, curse it! What's this noise
+about?" with a gesture, toward the hall.
+
+"The boys were in the Platz and had a brush with those damned
+cuirassiers. They'll play a harder game yet." Stuler always took sides
+with the students, on business principles; they constituted his purse.
+"Tokayer?"
+
+"No; champagne. Aye, these damned cuirassiers shall play a hard game ere
+the week is done, or my name is not Johann Kopf. They kicked me out of
+the palace grounds yesterday; me, me, me!" hammering the oak with his
+fist.
+
+"Who?"
+
+"Von Mitter, the English-bred dog! I'll kill him one of these days. Is
+it play to-night, or are they serious?" nodding again toward the hall.
+
+"Go in," said Stuler, "and look at some of those heads; a look will
+answer the purpose."
+
+Johann followed this advice. The picture he saw was one which agreed
+with the idea that had come into his mind. He returned to the bar-room.
+and drank his wine thirstily, refilled the glass and emptied it. Stuler
+shook his head. Johann was in a bad way when he gulped wine instead of
+sipping it. Yet it was always so after a carouse.
+
+"Where have you been keeping yourself the past week?" he asked. If the
+students were his purse, Johann was his budget of news.
+
+"You ask that?" surlily. "You knew I had money; you knew that I was off
+somewhere spending it--God knows where, I don't. Another bottle of wine.
+There's enough left from the gold to pay for it."
+
+Stuler complied. Johann's thirst seemed in no way assuaged; but soon the
+sullen expression, the aftermath of his spree, was replaced by one of
+reckless jollity. His eyes began to sparkle.
+
+"A great game, Stuler; they're playing a great game, and you and I will
+be in at the reaping. The town is quiet, you say? The troops have
+ceased murmuring, eh? A lull that comes before the storm. And when it
+breaks--and break it will!--gay times for you and me. There will be
+sacking. I have the list of those who lean toward the Osians. There will
+be loot, old war dog!"
+
+Stuler smiled indulgently; Johann was beginning to feel the wine.
+Perhaps he was to learn something. "Yes, 'twill be a glorious day."
+
+"A week hence, and the king goes forth a bankrupt."
+
+"If he lives," judiciously.
+
+"Dead or alive, it matters not which; he goes."
+
+"And the wedding? What is it I hear about Prince Frederick and the
+peasant girl?"
+
+Johann laughed. "There will be no wedding."
+
+"And the princess?"
+
+"A pretty morsel, a tidbit for the king that is to be."
+
+"The king that--eh, Johann, are you getting drunk so soon?" Stuler
+exclaimed. "I know of no king--"
+
+Johann reached over and caught the innkeeper's wrist. The grasp was no
+gentle one. "Listen, that was a slip of the tongue. Repeat it, and that
+for your life! Do you understand, my friend?"
+
+"Gott in--"
+
+"Do you understand?" fiercely.
+
+"Yes, yes!" Stuler wiped his face with his apron.
+
+"Good, if you understand. It was naught but a slip of the tongue,"
+nonchalantly. "In a little week, my friend, your till will have no
+vulgar silver in it; gold, yellow gold."
+
+"And the duchess?" with hesitance. The budget of news to-night was not
+of the usual kind.
+
+Johann did not answer, save by a shrug.
+
+The perturbation of the old man was so manifestly beyond control that he
+could not trust his legs. He dropped on the stool, giving his grizzled
+head a negative shake. "I would that you had made no slip of the tongue,
+Johann," he murmured. "Gott, what is going on? The princess was not to
+wed, to be sure, but the duchess passed--a king besides--"
+
+"Silence!" enjoined Johann. "Stuler, I am about to venture on a daring
+enterprise, which, if successful, will mean plenty of gold. Come with
+me into your private office, where we shall not be interrupted nor
+overheard." He vaulted the bar. Stuler looked undecided. "Come!"
+commanded Johann. With another shake of his head Stuler took down the
+tallow dip, unlocked the door, and bade Johann pass in. He caught up
+another bottle and glass and followed. Without a word he filled the
+glass and set it down before Johann, who raised it and drank, his beady
+eyes flashing over the rim of the glass and compelling the innkeeper to
+withdraw his gaze.
+
+"Well?" said Stuler, uneasily.
+
+"I need you." Johann finished his glass with moderate slowness. "Your
+storehouse on the lake is empty?"
+
+"Yes, but--"
+
+"I shall want it, two nights from this, in case Madame the duchess does
+not conquer the Englishman. I shall want two fellows who will ask no
+questions, but who will follow my instructions to the letter. It is an
+abduction."
+
+"A nasty business," was Stuler's comment. "You have women to thank for
+your present occupation, Johann."
+
+"Stuler, you are a fool. It is not a woman; it is a crown."
+
+"Eh?" Stuler's eyes bulged.
+
+"A crown. The duchess may remain a duchess. Who is master in Bleiberg
+to-day? At whose word the army moves or stands? At whose word the Osians
+fall or reign? On whom does the duchess rely? Who is king in deed,
+if not in fact? Who will find means to liquidate the kingdom's
+indebtedness, whoever may be the creditor? Pah! the princess may marry,
+but the groom will not be Prince Frederick. The man she will marry
+will be the husband of a queen, and he will be a king behind a woman's
+skirts. It is what the French call a coup d'etat. She will be glad to
+marry; there is no alternative. She will submit, if only that her father
+may die in peace."
+
+"And this king?" in a whisper.
+
+"You are old, Stuler; you remember many things of the past. Do you
+recollect a prince of a noble Austrian house by the name of Walmoden,
+once an aide to the emperor, who was cashiered from the army and exiled
+for corresponding with France?"
+
+Stuler's hand shook as he brushed his forehead. "Yes, I recollect.
+He fought against the Prussians in the Franco-Prussian war, then
+disappeared, to be heard of again as living in a South American
+republic. But what has he to do with all this? Ah, Johann, this is deep
+water."
+
+"For those who have not learned to swim. You will aid me? A thousand
+crowns--two hundred pieces of gold like that which has just passed from
+my pocket into yours. It is politics."
+
+"But the sacking of the town?"
+
+"A jest. If Madame the duchess conquers the Englishman, the king that is
+to be will pay her. Then, if she wages war Austria can say nothing for
+defending ourselves."
+
+"And Walmoden?" Stuler struck his forehead with his fist as if to pound
+it into a state of lucidity. "Where is he? It is a stone wall; I can see
+nothing."
+
+"Beauvais."
+
+"Beauvais!" Stuler half rose from his chair, but sank again.
+
+"Exactly. This play, for some reason unexplained, is the price of his
+reestablishment into the graces of the noble Hapsburgs. Between us,
+I think the prince is playing a game for himself. But who shall blame
+him?"
+
+"The devil! I thought Austria was very favorable to the Osian house."
+
+"Favorable or not, it is nothing to us."
+
+"Well, well, it's a thousand crowns," philosophically.
+
+"That's the sentiment," laughed Johann. "It is not high treason, it
+is not lese majeste; it is not a crime; it is a thousand crowns. Votre
+sante, as the damned French say!" swallowing what was left of the wine.
+"And then, it is purely patriotic in us," with a deceitful smile.
+
+"The storehouse is yours, and the men. Now tell me how 'tis to be
+played."
+
+"Where does her Royal Highness go each Thursday evening, accompanied by
+her eternal cuirassiers, von Mitter and Scharfenstein?"
+
+"Where but to see her old nurse Elizabeth? But two men will not be
+enough. Von Mitter and Scharfenstein--"
+
+"Will as usual remain at the carriage. But what's to prevent the men
+from gaining entrance by the rear?--carrying off her Highness that way,
+passing through the alley and making off, to be a mile away before the
+cuirassiers even dream of the attempt?"
+
+"After all, I'd rather the duchess."
+
+"We can not all be kings and queens." Johann got up and slapped Stuler
+familiarly on the shoulder. "Forget not the gold, the yellow gold;
+little heaps of it to finger, to count, and to spend."
+
+Stuler's eyes gleamed phosphorescently. There was the strain of the
+ancient marauder in his veins; gold easily gotten. He opened the door,
+and Johann passed out, swaying. The wine was taking hold of him. He
+turned into the hall, while Stuler busied himself with the spigots.
+Some one discovered the spy, and called him by name; it was caught up by
+others, and there were numerous calls for a speech.
+
+As a socialist Johann was well known about the lower town. Besides, five
+years gone, he himself had been a student and a brother of freedom. He
+had fought a dozen successful duels, and finally had been expelled from
+the university for beating a professor who had objected to his conduct
+in the presence of ladies. Other ill reports added to his popularity.
+To be popular in this whimsical world of ours, one has either to be very
+good or very bad. Johann was not unwilling to speak. Stuler had given
+him the cue; the cuirassiers. His advice was secretly to arm and hold
+in readiness. As this was the substance of the other speeches, Johann
+received his meed of applause.
+
+"And let us not forget the bulldog; let us kill him, too," cried one
+of the auditors; "the prodigal bulldog, who has lived on our fatted
+calves."
+
+This was unanimously adopted. The bulldog was not understood; and he
+smacked of the English. Then, too, the bulldog roamed too freely in the
+royal enclosures; and, until late years, trespassers fared badly. The
+students considered that their privileges extended everywhere; the dog,
+not being conversant with these privileges, took that side which in law
+is called the benefit of a doubt.
+
+After his speech Johann retired to the bar-room. What he desired most of
+all was a replenished purse. Popular he was; but the students knew his
+failings, among which stood prominently that of a forgetful borrower.
+They would buy him drinks, clothes and food, if need be, but they would
+not lend him a stiver. And he could not borrow from Stuler, whose law
+was only to trust. Johann gambled, and wine always brought back the
+mad fever for play. The night before he had lost rather heavily, and he
+wanted to recover his losses. Rouge-et-noir had pinched him; he would be
+revenged on the roulette. All day long combinations and numbers danced
+before his eyes. He had devised several plans by which to raise money,
+but these had fallen through. Suddenly he smiled, and beckoned to
+Stuler.
+
+"Stuler, how much will you advance me," he asked, "on a shotgun worth
+one hundred crowns?"
+
+"A shotgun worth one hundred crowns? Ten."
+
+Johann made a negative gesture. "Fifty or none. You can sell it
+for seventy-five in the morning. So could I, only I want the money
+to-night."
+
+"If you want wine--" began Stuler.
+
+"I want money."
+
+Stuler scratched his nose. "Bring the gun to me. If it is worth what you
+say, I'll see what I can do."
+
+"In an hour;" and Johann went out. A cold thin rain was falling, and a
+dash of it in the face had a cooling effect. Somehow, the exhilaration
+of the wine was gone, and his mood took a sullen turn. Money! he was
+ever in need of money. He cursed his ill luck. He cursed the cause
+of it--drink. But for drink he would not have been plain Johann Kopf,
+brawler, outcast, spy, disowned by his family and all save those who
+could use him. He remained standing in the doorway, brooding.
+
+At last he drew his collar about his throat and struck off, a black
+shadow in a bank of gray. When he reached that part of the street
+opposite the Grand Hotel, he stopped and sought shelter under an awning.
+The night patrol came clattering down the street. It passed quickly, and
+soon all was still again. Johann stepped out and peered up and down. The
+street was deserted. All the hotel windows were in gloom, save a feeble
+light which beamed from the office windows.
+
+Would it be robbery? He had not yet stooped to that. But he could hear
+the ivory ball clatter as it fell into the lucky numbers. He had a
+premonition that he would win if he stuck to a single combination. He
+would redeem the gun, replace it, and no one would be any the wiser.
+If his numbers failed him..... No matter. He determined to cross the
+Rubicon. He traversed the street and disappeared into the cavernous
+alley, shortly to loom up in the deserted courtyard of the hotel. He
+counted the windows on the first floor and stopped at the fourth. That
+was the window he must enter. Noiselessly he crept along the walls,
+stopping now and then to listen. There was no sound except the
+monotonous dripping of the rain, which was growing thinner and colder.
+
+Presently he came across the ladder he was seeking. He raised it to the
+required height, and once more placed his hand to his ear. Silence. He
+mounted the rounds to the window, which he found unfastened. In another
+moment he was in the room. Not an object could he see, so deep was the
+darkness. If he moved without light he was likely to stumble, and heydey
+to his fifty crowns, not to say his liberty for many days to come. He
+carefully drew the blinds and struck a match. The first object which
+met his gaze was a fallen candle. This he lit and when the glare of the
+flame softened, all the corners of the room stood out. Nowhere was there
+any sign of a gun. He gave vent to a half-muttered curse. Some one had
+pilfered the gun, or the proprietor was keeping it until the Englishman
+returned from the duchy. But he remembered that there were two guns, one
+of which the Englishman did not use in the hunting expeditions.
+
+So he began a thorough search. It meant fifty crowns, green baize and
+the whims of fortune. Cautiously he moved between the fallen chairs. He
+looked behind the bed, under the dresser, but without success. His hand
+closed savagely around the candle, and he swore inaudibly. He threw back
+the bed coverings, not that he expected to find anything, but because
+he could vent his rage on these silent, noiseless things. When he lifted
+the mattress it was then he took a deep breath and smiled. What he saw
+was a gun case. He drew it from under. It was heavy; his fifty crowns
+were inside. Next he picked up a candlestick and stuffed the candle into
+it, and laid a quilt against the threshold of the door so that no light
+would pierce the corridor.
+
+"This is the gun the Englishman did not use in the hunting expeditions,"
+he thought. "If it is out of repair, as he said it was, my fifty crowns
+are not so many pfennige. The devil! it must be a valuable piece of
+gunsmithing, to hide it under the bedclothes. Let me see if my crowns
+are for the picking."
+
+He investigated forthwith. The hammers and the triggers worked smoothly.
+He unlocked the breech and held the nozzles toward the candle light--and
+again cursed. The barrels were clogged up. Notwithstanding, he plucked
+forth the cleaning-rod and forced it into one of the tubes. There was
+a slight resistance, and something fluttered to the floor and rolled
+about. The second tube was treated likewise, with the same result.
+Johann laughed silently. The fifty crowns were tangible; he could hear
+them jingling in his pocket, and a pretty music they made. He returned
+the leather case to its original place and devoted his attention to the
+cylinder-shaped papers on the floor.
+
+For a quarter of an hour Johann remained seated on the floor, in the
+wavering candle light, forgetful of all save the delicate tracings of
+steel engraving, the red and green inks, the great golden seal, the
+signatures, the immensity of the ciphers which trailed halfway across
+each crackling parchment. He counted sixteen of them in all. Four
+millions of crowns.... He was rich, rich beyond all his wildest dreams.
+
+He rose, and restored the gun to its case. Fifty crowns? No, no! A
+hundred thousand, not a crown less; a hundred thousand! all thoughts of
+the green baize and the rattle of the roulette ball passed away. There
+was no need to seek fortune; she had come to him of her own free will.
+Wine, Gertrude of the opera, Paris and a life of ease; all these were
+his. A hundred thousand crowns, a hundred thousand florins, two hundred
+thousand francs, two hundred thousand marks! He computed in all monetary
+denominations; in all countries it was wealth.
+
+Something rose and swelled in his throat, and he choked hysterically. A
+voice whispered "No, not a hundred thousand; four millions!" But reason,
+though it tottered, regained its balance, and he saw the utter futility
+of attempting to dispose of the orders on the government independently.
+His hands trembled; he could scarcely hold this vast treasure. Twice,
+in his haste to pocket the certificates, they slipped from his grasp
+and scattered. How those six syllables frolicked in his mind! A hundred
+thousand crowns!
+
+He extinguished the candle and laid it on the floor, put the quilt
+on the bed, then climbed through the window, which he closed without
+mishap. He descended the ladder. As he reached the bottom round his
+heart gave a great leap. From the alley came the sound of approaching
+steps. Nearer and nearer they came; a shadow entered the courtyard and
+made straight for the door, which was but a few feet from the reclining
+ladder. The kitchen door opened and the burst of light revealed a
+belated serving maid. A moment passed, and all became dark again. But
+Johann felt a strange weakness in his knees, and a peculiar thrill at
+the roots of his hair. He dared not move for three or four minutes. But
+he waited in vain for other steps. He cursed the serving maid for the
+fright, disposed of the ladder, and sought the street. He directed his
+steps toward Stuler's.
+
+"The pig of an Englishman was deeper than I thought. In the gun barrels,
+the gun barrels! If I had not wanted to play they would have been there
+yet! A hundred thousand crowns!"
+
+It had ceased to rain, and a frost was congealing the moisture under
+foot. On the way back to Stuler's Johann slipped and fell several times;
+but he was impervious to pain, bruises were nothing. He was rich! He
+laughed; and from time to time thrust his hand into his vest to convince
+himself that he was not dreaming. To whom should he sell? To the Osians?
+To the duchess? To the king that was to be? Who would pay quickest the
+hundred thousand crowns? He knew. Aye, two hundred thousand would not be
+too much. The Englishman would send for the certificates, but his agent
+would not find them. The abduction? He would carry it through as he
+had promised. It was five thousand crowns in addition to his hundred
+thousand. He was rich! He shook his hand toward the inky sky, toward
+the palace, toward all that signified the past..... A hundred thousand
+crowns!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. WHAT HAPPENED AT THE ARCHBISHOP'S PALACE AND AFTER
+
+Maurice, as he labored before his mirror, wondered why in the world it
+took him so long to dress. An hour had passed since he began his evening
+toilet; yet here he was, still tinkering, so to speak, over the last
+of a dozen cravats. The eleven others lay strewn about, hopelessly
+crumpled; mute witnesses of angry fingers and impassioned mutterings.
+Usually he could slip into his evening clothes in less than thirty
+minutes. Something was wrong. But perhaps this occasion was not usual.
+
+First, the hems of his trousers were insurgent; they persisted in
+hitching on the tops of his button shoes. Laces were substituted. Then
+came a desultory period, during which gold buttons were exchanged for
+pearl and pearl for gold, and two-button shirts for three-button. For
+Maurice was something of a dandy. He could not imagine what was the
+matter with his neck, all the collars seemed so small. For once his
+mishaps did not appeal to his humor. The ascent from his shoes to his
+collar was as tortuous as that of the alpine Jungfrau.
+
+Ah, Madam, you may smile as much as you please, but it is a terrible
+thing for a man to dress and at the same time think kindly of his
+fellow-beings. You set aside three hours for your toilet, and devote two
+hours to the little curl which droops over the tip of your dainty ear;
+but with a man who has no curl, who knows nothing of the practice of
+smiles and side glances, the studied carelessness of a pose, it is a
+dismal, serious business up to the last moment.
+
+With a final glance into the mirror, and convinced that if he touched
+himself it would be only to disarrange the perfection which he had
+striven so hard to attain, Maurice went down stairs. He had still an
+hour to while away before presenting himself at the archbishop's palace.
+So he roamed about the verandas, twirled his cane, and smoked like a
+captain who expects to see his men in active engagement the very next
+moment. This, together with the bad hour in his room, was an indication
+that his nerves were finely strung.
+
+He was nervous, not because he was to see strange faces, not because his
+interest in the kingdom's affairs was both comic and tragic, nor because
+he was to present himself at the archbishop's in a peculiar capacity,
+that of a prisoner on parole. No, it was due to none of these. His
+pulse did not stir at the prospect of meeting the true king. Diplomatic
+functions were every-day events with him. He had passed several years of
+his life in the vicinity of emperors, kings, viceroys, and presidents,
+and their greatness had long ago ceased to interest or even to amuse
+him. He was conscious only of an agitation which had already passed
+through the process of analysis. He loved, he loved the impossible
+and the unattainable, and it was the exhilaration of this thought that
+agitated him. He never would be the same again--he would be better.
+Neither did he regret this love.
+
+Even now he could see himself back in his rooms in Vienna, smoking
+before the fire, and building castles that tumbled down. It was worth
+while, if only to have something to dream about. He did not regret the
+love, he regretted its futility. How could he serve her? What could he
+do against all these unseen forces which were crumbling her father's
+throne? So she remembered what he had said to her in the archbishop's
+garden? He looked at his watch. It was nine.
+
+"Let us be off," he said. He started for the Platz. "How uncertain life
+is. It seems that I did not come to Bleiberg carelessly in the way of
+amusement, but to work out a part of my destiny." He arrested his steps
+at the fountain and listened to the low, musical plash of the water,
+each drop of which fell with the light of a dazzling jewel. The cold
+stars shone from above. They were not farther away than she. A princess,
+a lonely and forlorn princess, hemmed in by the fabric of royal laws; a
+princess yet possessing less liberty than the meanest of her peasants.
+Nothing belonged to her, not even her heart, which was merchandise, a
+commodity of exchange, turned over to the highest bidder. "Royalty," he
+mused, "is a political slave-dealer; the slaves are those who wear the
+crowns."
+
+Once inside the palace, he became a man of the world, polished,
+nonchalant, handsome, and mildly curious. Immediately after the usher
+announced his name, he crossed the chamber and presented his respects to
+the prelate, who, he reasoned not unwisely, expected him. The friendly
+greeting of the archbishop confirmed this reasoning.
+
+"I am delighted to see you, Monsieur," he said, showing his remarkably
+well preserved teeth in the smile that followed his words. "A service
+to her Royal Highness is a service to me. Amuse yourself; you will find
+some fine paintings in the west gallery."
+
+"I trust her Royal Highness is none the worse for the fright," Maurice
+replied. He also remarked (mentally) that he did not see her Highness
+anywhere. Several introductions followed, and he found himself chatting
+with the British minister.
+
+"Carewe?" the Englishman repeated thoughtfully. "Are you not Maurice
+Carewe, of the American Legation in Vienna?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"May I ask you a few questions?"
+
+"A thousand."
+
+"A fellow-countryman of mine has mysteriously disappeared. He left
+Vienna for Bleiberg, saying that if nothing was heard of him within a
+week's time, to make inquiries about him. This request was left with
+the British ambassador, who has just written me, adding that a personal
+friend of the gentleman in question was in Bleiberg, and that this
+friend was Maurice Carewe, attache to the American Legation. Are you
+acquainted with Lord Fitzgerald, son of my late predecessor?"
+
+"I am indeed. I saw him in Vienna," said Maurice; "but he said nothing
+to me about coming here," which was true enough. "Is there any cause for
+apprehension?"
+
+"Only his request to be looked up within a certain time. The truth is,
+he was to have come here on a peculiar errand," with lowered voice. "Did
+you ever hear of what is called 'Fitzgerald's folly?'"
+
+"Yes; few haven't heard of it." Maurice could never understand why he
+resisted the impulse to tell the whole affair. A dozen words to the man
+at his side, and the catastrophes, even embryonic, would be averted.
+"You must tell me who most of these people are," he said, in order to
+get around a disagreeable subject. "I am a total stranger."
+
+"With pleasure. That tall, angular old man, in the long, gray frock,
+with decorations, is Marshal Kampf. You must meet him; he is the
+wittiest man in Bleiberg. The gentleman with the red beard is Mollendorf
+of the police. And beside him--yes, the little man with glasses and a
+loose cravat--is Count von Wallenstein, the minister of finance. That
+is the chancellor talking to the archbishop. Ah, Mr. Carewe, these
+receptions are fine comedies. The Marshal, the count and Mollendorf
+represent what is called the Auersperg faction under the rose. It is a
+continual battle of eyes and tongues. One smiles at his enemy, knows him
+to be an enemy, yet dares not touch him.
+
+"Confidentially, this play has never had the like. To convict his
+enemies of treason has been for ten years the labor of the chancellor;
+yet, though he knows them to be in correspondence with the duchess,
+he can find nothing on the strength of which to accuse openly. It is a
+conspiracy which has no papers. One can not take out a man's brains and
+say, `Here is proof!' They talk, they walk on thin ice; but so fine
+is their craft that no incautious word ever falls, nor does any one go
+through the ice.
+
+"I have watched the play for ten years. I should not speak to you about
+it, only it is one of those things known to all here. Those gentlemen
+talking to the chancellor's wife are the ministers from Austria,
+Prussia, France, and Servia. You will not find it as lively here as it
+is in Vienna. We meet merely to watch each other," with a short laugh.
+"Good. The Marshal is approaching."
+
+They waited.
+
+"Marshal," said the minister, "this is Monsieur Carewe, who rescued her
+Highness's dog from the students."
+
+"Ah!" replied the Marshal, grimly. "Do not expect me to thank you,
+Monsieur; only day before yesterday the dog snapped at my legs. I am
+living out of pure spite, to see that dog die before I do. Peace to his
+ashes--the sooner the better."
+
+The minister turned to Maurice and laughed.
+
+"Eh!" said the Marshal.
+
+"I prophesied that you would speak disparagingly of the dog."
+
+"What a reputation!" cried the old soldier. "I dare say that you have
+been telling Monsieur Carewe that I am a wit. Monsieur, never attempt
+to be witty; they will put you down for a wit, and laugh at anything you
+say, even when you put yourself out to speak the truth. If I possess any
+wit it is like young grapes--sour. You are connected in Vienna?"
+
+"With the American Legation."
+
+"Happy is the country," said the Marshal, "which is so far away that
+Europe can find no excuse to meddle with it."
+
+"And even then Europe would not dare," Maurice replied, with
+impertinence aforethought.
+
+"That is not a diplomatic speech."
+
+"It is true."
+
+"I like your frankness."
+
+"Let that go toward making amends for saving the dog."
+
+"Are all American diplomats so frank?" inquired the Marshal, with an air
+of feigned wonder.
+
+"Indeed, no," answered Maurice. "Just at present I am not in a
+diplomatic capacity; I need not look askance at truth. And there is no
+reason why we should not always be truthful."
+
+"You are wrong. It's truth's infrequency which makes her so charming and
+refreshing. However, I thank you for your services to her Highness; your
+services to her dog I shall try to forget." And with this the Marshal
+moved away, shaking his head as if he had inadvertently stumbled on an
+intricate problem.
+
+Not long after, Maurice was left to his own devices. He viewed the
+scene, silent and curious. Conversation was carried on in low tones,
+and laughter was infrequent and subdued. The women dressed without
+ostentation. There were no fair arms and necks. Indeed, these belong
+wholly to youth, and youth was not a factor at the archbishop's
+receptions. Most of the men were old and bald, and only the wives of the
+French and British ministers were pretty or young. How different from
+Vienna, where youth and beauty abound! There were no music, no long
+tables of refreshments, no sparkling wines, no smoking-room, good
+stories and better fellowship. There was an absence of the flash of
+jewels and color which make court life attractive.
+
+There seemed to be hanging in the air some invisible power, the forecast
+of a tragedy, the beginning of an unknown end. And yet the prelate
+smiled on enemies and friends alike. As Maurice observed that smile he
+grew perplexed. It was a smile such as he had seen on the faces of men
+who, about to die, felt the grim satisfaction of having an enemy for
+company. The king lay on his death bed, in all probabilities the throne
+tottered; yet the archbishop smiled.
+
+The princess did not know that her father was dying; this was a secret
+which had not yet been divulged to her. And this was the only society
+she knew. Small wonder that she was sad and lonely. To be young, and to
+find one's self surrounded by the relics of youth; what an existence!
+She had never known the beauty of a glittering ballroom, felt the music
+of a waltz mingle with the quick throbs of the heart, the pleasure
+of bestowing pleasure. She had never read the mute yet intelligent
+admiration in a young man's eyes. And what young woman does not yearn
+for the honest adoration of an honest man? Poor, lonely princess indeed.
+For, loving the world as he himself did, Maurice understood what was
+slipping past her. Every moment the roots of love were sinking deeper
+into his heart and twining firmly about, as a vine to a trellis.
+
+Is there a mental telegraphy, an indefinable substance which is affected
+by the close proximity of a presence, which, while we do not see,
+we feel? Perhaps; at any rate, Maurice suddenly became aware of that
+peculiar yet now familiar agitation of his nerves. Instinctively he
+turned his head. In the doorway which separated the chamber from the
+conservatory stood her Royal Highness. She was dressed entirely in
+black, which accentuated the whiteness--the Carrara marble whiteness--of
+her exquisite skin. In the dark, shining coils swept back from her brow
+lay the subtle snare of a red rose. There was no other color except on
+the full lips. She saw Maurice, but she was so far away that the faint
+reflection of the rose on her cheeks was gone before he reached her
+side.
+
+"I was afraid," she said, lowering her eyes as she uttered the fib,
+"that you would not come after all."
+
+"It would have been impossible for me to stay away," he replied, his
+eyes ardent. The princess looked away. "And may I ask after the health
+of the dog?"
+
+"Thanks to you, Monsieur; he is getting along finely. Poor dog; he
+will always limp. What is it that makes men inflict injuries on dumb
+creatures?"
+
+"It is the beast that is envious of the brute."
+
+"And your hand?" with a glance sympathetic and inquiring.
+
+"My hand?"
+
+"Yes; did you not injure it?"
+
+"O!" He laughed and held out two gloved hands for her inspection. "That
+was only a scratch. In fact, I do not remember which hand it was."
+
+"You are very modest. I should have made much of it."
+
+He could not translate this; so he said: "There was nothing injured but
+my hat. I seem unfortunate in that direction."
+
+She smiled, recalling the incident in the archbishop's garden.
+
+"I shall keep the hat, however," he said, "as a souvenir."
+
+"Souvenirs, Monsieur," she replied carelessly, "and old age are
+synonymous. You and I ought not to have any souvenirs. Have you seen
+the picture gallery? No? Then I shall have the pleasure of showing it
+to you. Monseigneur is very proud of his gallery. He has a Leonardo, a
+Botticelli, a Murillo, and a Rembrandt. And they really show better in
+artificial light, which softens the effect of time."
+
+Half an hour was passed in the gallery. It was very pleasant to
+listen to her voice as she described this and that painting, and the
+archbishop's adventures in securing them. It did not seem possible to
+him that she was a princess, perhaps destined to become a queen, so free
+was she from the attributes of royalty, so natural and ingenuous. He
+caught each movement of her delicate head, each gesture of her hand, the
+countless inflections of her voice, the lights which burned or died away
+in the dark wine of her eyes.
+
+Poor devil! he mused, himself in mind; poor fool! He forgot the world,
+he forgot that he was a prisoner on parole, he forgot the strife between
+the kingdom and the duchy, he forgot everything but the wild impossible
+love which filled his senses. He forgot even Prince Frederick of
+Carnavia.
+
+In truth, the world was "a sorry scheme of things." It was grotesque
+with inequalities. He had no right to love her; it was wrong to give
+in to the impulses of the heart, the natural, human impulses. A man can
+beat down the stone walls of a fort, scale the impregnable heights of
+a citadel, master the earth and the seas, but he can not surmount
+the invisible barriers which he himself erected in the past ages--the
+quality of birth. Ah! if only she had been a peasant, unlettered and
+unknown, and free to be won! The tasks of Hercules were then but play to
+him!
+
+Next she led him through the aisles of potted plants in the
+conservatory. She was very learned. She explained the origin of each
+flower, its native soil, the time and manner of its transportation.
+Perhaps she was surprised at his lack of botanical knowledge, he asked
+so many questions. But it was not the flowers, it was her voice, which
+urged him to these interrogations.
+
+They were on the point of re-entering the reception chamber, when the
+jingle of a spur on the mosaic floor caused them to turn. Maurice could
+not control the start; he had forgotten all about Beauvais. The soldier
+wore the regulation full dress of the cuirassiers, white trousers,
+tucked into patent leather half-boots, a gray jacket with gold lace and
+decorations, red saber straps and a gray pelisse hanging from the left
+shoulder. A splendid soldier, Maurice grudgingly admitted. What would
+the Colonel say? The situation was humorous rather than otherwise, and
+Maurice smiled.
+
+"I was looking for your Highness," said Beauvais, as he came up, "to
+pay my respects. I am leaving." His glance at Maurice was one of polite
+curiosity.
+
+"Colonel Beauvais," said the princess, coldly, "Monsieur Carewe, of the
+American Legation in Vienna."
+
+She was not looking at the Colonel, but Maurice was, and the Colonel's
+total lack of surprise astonished him. The gaze of the two men plunged
+into each other's eyes like flashes of lightning, but that was all.
+
+"I am charmed," said the Colonel, a half-ironical smile under his
+mustache. "Your name is not unfamiliar to me."
+
+"No?" said Maurice, with studied politeness.
+
+"No. It is connected with an exploit. Was it not you who faced the
+students this afternoon and rescued her Highness's dog?"
+
+"Ah!" said Maurice, in a tone which implied that exploits were every
+day events with him; "it was but a simple thing to do. The students were
+like so many sheep."
+
+The princess elevated her brows; she felt an undercurrent of something
+which she did not understand. Indeed, she did not like the manner in
+which the two men eyed each other. Her glance passed from the stalwart
+soldier to the slim, athletic form of the civilian.
+
+Conversation drifted aimlessly. Maurice had the malice to cast the brunt
+of it on the Colonel's shoulders. The princess, like a rose coming in
+contact with a chill air, drew within herself. She was cold, brief, and
+serenely indifferent. It was evident to Maurice that she had resumed her
+royal mantle, and that she had shown him unusual consideration.
+
+Presently she raised her hand to her head, as sometimes one will do
+unconsciously, and the rose slipped from her hair and dropped to the
+floor. Both men stooped. Maurice was quickest. With a bow he offered to
+return it.
+
+"You may keep it, Monsieur;" and she laughed.
+
+They joined her. Maurice knew why the Colonel laughed, and the Colonel
+knew why Maurice laughed; but neither could account for the laughter of
+the princess. That was her secret.
+
+All things come to an end, even diplomatic receptions. Soon the guests
+began to leave.
+
+Said the princess to Maurice: "Your invitation is a standing one,
+Monsieur. To our friends there are no formalities. Good night; ah, yes,
+the English fashion," extending her hand, which Maurice barely touched.
+"Good night, Monsieur," to Beauvais, with one of those nods which wither
+as effectually as frost.
+
+The Colonel bent gracefully.
+
+"Decidedly the Colonel is not in high favor tonight," thought Maurice;
+"a fact which is eminently satisfactory to me. Ah; he looks as if he had
+something to say to me. Let us wait."
+
+"Monsieur, have you any other engagement this evening?" asked Beauvais,
+swinging his pelisse over both shoulders. "If not, my rooms are quite
+handy. I have capital cigars and cognacs. Will you do me the honor? I
+should like to have you regale me with some Vienna gossip; it is so long
+since I was there."
+
+"Thanks," said Maurice. "I shall be happy to smoke your cigars and drink
+your cognacs." He was in the mood for any adventure, comic or serious.
+He had an idea what the Colonel wanted to say to him, and he was not
+unwilling to listen. Besides, he had no fear; he now wore an amulet
+close to his heart.
+
+"Come, then," said Beauvais, gaily; and the two made off. "It is a
+wonderful game of chess, this world of ours."
+
+"Yes," said Maurice, "we do keep moving."
+
+"And every now and then one or the other of us steps out into the dark."
+
+"So we do." Maurice glanced from the corner of his eye and calculated
+his chances in a physical contest with the Colonel. The soldier was
+taller and broader, but it was possible for him to make good this
+deficiency with quickness. But, above all, where and under what
+circumstances had he met this man before?
+
+"Here we are!" cried the Colonel, presently.
+
+He led Maurice into one of the handsome dwellings which faced the palace
+confines from the east. They passed up the stairs into a large room,
+Oriental in its appointments, and evidently the living room. The walls
+were hung with the paraphernalia of a soldier, together with portraits
+of opera singers, horses and celebrities of all classes. On the mantel
+Maurice saw, among other things, the glint of a revolver barrel. He
+thought nothing of it then. It occurred to him as singular, however,
+that the room was free from central obstruction. Had the Colonel
+expected to meet him at the archbishop's and anticipated his acceptance
+of a possible invitation?
+
+Two chairs stood on either side of the grate. Between them was an
+octagon on which were cigars, glasses and two cognac bottles. The
+Colonel's valet came in and lit the tapers in the chandelier and woke
+up the fire.... Maurice was convinced that the Colonel had arranged the
+room thus for his especial benefit, and he regretted his eagerness for
+adventure.
+
+"Francois," said Beauvais, throwing his shako and pelisse on the lounge
+and motioning to Maurice to do likewise, "let no one disturb us."
+
+The valet bowed and noiselessly retired. The two men sat down without
+speaking. Beauvais passed the cigars. Maurice selected one, lit it, and
+blew rings at the Chinese mandarin which leered down at him from the
+mantel.
+
+Several minutes marched into the past.
+
+"Maurice Carewe," said the Colonel, as one who mused.
+
+"It is very droll," said Maurice.
+
+"I can not say that it strikes me as droll, though I am not deficient in
+the sense of humor."
+
+"'Twould be a pity if you were; you would miss so much. Through humor
+philosophy reaches its culmination; humor is the foundation upon which
+the palace of reason erects itself. The two are inseparable."
+
+"How came you to be mixed up in this affair, which is no concern of
+yours?"
+
+"That question is respectfully referred to Madame the duchess. I was
+thrown into it, head foremost, bound hand and foot. It was a clever
+stroke, though eventually it will embarrass her."
+
+"You may give me the certificates," said Beauvais.
+
+Maurice contemplated him serenely. "Impossible," with a fillip at the
+end of his cigar.
+
+"You refuse?" coldly.
+
+"I do not refuse. Simply, I haven't got them."
+
+"What!" The Colonel half sprang from his chair.
+
+His astonishment was genuine; Maurice saw that it was, and he reflected.
+Madame nor Fitzgerald had been dishonest with him.
+
+"No. Some one has forestalled me."
+
+"Are you lying to me?" menacingly.
+
+"And if I were?" coolly.
+
+Beauvais measured his antagonist, his eyes hard and contemptuous.
+
+"I repeat," said Maurice, "the situation is exceedingly droll. I am not
+afraid of you, not a bit. I am not a man to be intimidated. You might
+have inferred as much by my willingness to accompany you here. I am
+alone with you."
+
+"It is true that you are alone with me," in a voice, which, though it
+did not alarm Maurice, caused him to rest less comfortably in his chair.
+"In the first place, you know too much."
+
+"The knowledge was not of my own seeking. You will agree with me in
+that." He took a swallow of the cognac. "However, since I am in the
+affair--"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"I'll see it to its end."
+
+"Perhaps. We shall not cross purposes. When men plot as I do, they stop
+at nothing, not even at that infinitesimal minutiae called the spark of
+life. It becomes a matter of self-preservation. I am in too deep water;
+I must keep on. I can not now turn back; the first shore is too far
+away."
+
+"Even villainy has its inconveniences," Maurice observed.
+
+"What do you call villainy?"
+
+"An act in which a man accepts pay from one to ruin him for another.
+That is villainy, without a single saving grace, for you are a native
+neither of the kingdom nor the duchy."
+
+"That is plain language. You do not take into consideration the
+villain's motives. There may be certain ends necessary as his life's
+blood, which may be gained only by villainy, which, after all, is a hard
+name for political conspiracy."
+
+"Oh, I do not suppose you are worse than the majority. But it appeals
+to me as rather a small, unmanly game when your victims are a man who is
+dying and a girl who knows nothing of the world nor its treachery."
+
+An almost imperceptible smile passed over Beauvais's countenance. "So
+her Highness has captured your sympathies?" with a shade of banter.
+
+"I admit that; she would capture the sympathies of any man who has a
+good pair of eyes in his head. But you do not seem to be in favor just
+at present," banter for banter.
+
+The Colonel studied the end of his cigar. "What is to be your stand in
+this affair?"
+
+"Neutral as possible, for the simple reason that I have passed my word
+to Madame; compulsorily, it is true; I shall abide by it. That is not
+to say that my sympathies are not wholly with the Osians. Madame is a
+brilliant woman, resourceful, initiative; she has as many sides as a cut
+diamond; moreover, her cause is just. But I do not like the way she has
+gone about the recovery of her throne. She has broken, or will break, a
+fine honest heart; she tried to break another, but, not being above
+the pantry maid, the subject of her attention failed to appreciate the
+consideration."
+
+Beauvais laughed at this. "You are very good company. Let me advise you
+to remain neutral. I wish you no harm. But if you change your mind and
+stand in my path--"
+
+"Well, and if I stood in your path?"
+
+"Pouf! you would vanish. O, I should not stoop to murder; that is a
+vulgar word and practice. I should place a sword in your hand and give
+you the preference of a gentleman's death. I see nothing to prevent me
+from carrying out that this very night," with a nod toward the rapiers
+which hung from the opposite wall.
+
+"You might be surprised at the result," said Maurice, stretching his
+legs. "But at present I have no desire to quarrel with you, or to put
+your skill to a test. Once Madame gives me back my word, why, I do not
+say." He dipped his hand toward the ash-pan. "Human nature is full of
+freaks. A man will commit all sorts of crimes, yet stand by his word.
+Not that I have committed any crimes against the ten commandments."
+
+And so they fenced.
+
+"You picked up a rose to-night," said the Colonel.
+
+"So I did." Maurice blew a puff of smoke into the chimneyplace and
+watched it sail upward and vanish. "Moreover, I propose to keep it. Have
+you any objections?"
+
+"Only this: her Highness intended the rose for me."
+
+"No, no, my friend," easily. "She would not have laughed had you picked
+it up."
+
+"That is to say I lie?"
+
+"It is," laconically.
+
+There was no eluding a statement so bald as this. Beauvais sat upright.
+"To call me a liar is a privilege which I extend to no man."
+
+"I did not call you a liar," undisturbed. "You wrote it down yourself,
+and I simply agreed to it. A duel? Well, I shall not fight you. Dueling
+is obsolete, and it never demonstrated the right or wrong of a cause.
+Since my part in this affair is one of neutrality, and since to gain
+that knowledge was the object of your invitation, I will take my leave
+of you."
+
+He rose and looked at the porcelain clock. As he did so his gaze rested
+on a small photograph standing at the side of it. He scanned it eagerly.
+It was a face of dark Castilian beauty. He turned and looked at Beauvais
+long and earnestly. There was an answering gaze, an immobility of
+countenance. Maurice experienced a slight shock. The haze over his
+memory was dispersed. The whole scene, in which this man loomed in the
+foreground, came back vividly.
+
+"Your stare, Monsieur, is annoying."
+
+"I shouldn't wonder," replied Maurice, leaning against the mantel.
+
+"Do me the honor to explain it."
+
+Maurice, never dreaming of the trap, fell head foremost into it. "I have
+traveled a good deal," he began. "I have been--even to South America."
+
+"Ah!" This ejaculation expressed nothing. In fact, Beavais was smiling.
+There was a sinister something behind that smile, but Maurice was
+unobservant.
+
+He went on. "Yes, to South America. I was there in a diplomatic
+capacity, during one of the many revolutions. This country was the
+paradise of adventurers, the riff-raff of continental social outcasts.
+I distinctly remember the leader of this revolution. Up to the very last
+day, Captain Urquijo was the confidential friend of the president whom
+he was about to ruin. Through the president's beautiful daughter Urquijo
+picked up his threads and laid his powder train. The woman loved him as
+women sometimes love rascals. The president was to be assassinated
+and his rival installed. Captain Urquijo was to be made General of the
+armies.
+
+"One fine day the troops lined both sides of the plaza, the square
+also about which lay the government buildings. It was the event of some
+celebration; I believe the throwing off of the yoke of Spain. The
+city flocked into the plaza. Strangely enough, those who were
+disaffected--the soldiers under Urquijo--faced the loyal troops. By
+a preconceived plan, the artillery was under the command of Urquijo.
+Suddenly this Captain's murderous and traitorous guns swept the plaza,
+mangling women and children. There was a flaw, however, in the stroke.
+Urquijo fled, a reward posted for his head--mind you, his head; they did
+not want him alive.
+
+"The daughter expiates her foolish love in a convent. Her disgraces
+proved too much for her father, who blew out his brains. The successor
+secured extradition papers in all the leading capitals of the world. The
+story was the sensation of the day; the newspapers made much of it. All
+governments offered to assist the republic in hounding down this rascal.
+To whatever country he belonged, that country promised to disown him."
+
+Maurice took the photograph and cast it into Beauvais's lap. "Do
+you recognize that face? Is it not a mute accusation to your warped
+conscience?" The voice, changing from the monotone of narrative, grew
+strong and contemptuous. "I know you. I recognized you the moment I laid
+eyes on you, only I could not place you. Perhaps it was because it
+did not seem possible that you would dare show your face to civilized
+people. That photograph has done its work. By the Lord, but you're a
+fine rascal! Not a bit changed. Have you forgotten your Spanish? As God
+hears me, I shall hold you up."
+
+"You are a very young man," said Beauvais, rising. He was still smiling.
+"Do you know why I asked you here? For this very reason. Madame divined
+you well. She said that you had a dash of what romanticists call valor,
+but that you never saw an inch before your nose. I knew that you would
+be at the archbishop's; I knew that you would follow me to this room.
+Indeed, you might have suspected as much by the unusual arrangement of
+the fixtures of the room. I placed that photograph there, trusting to
+your rather acute eyesight.
+
+"My memory seems to be better than yours. I knew you the first time
+I saw you in Bleiborg. I was waiting only to see how much you had
+remembered. I am not Colonel Beauvais; I am not Urquijo; I am the last
+of a noble Austrian house, in exile, but on the eve of recall. Your
+knowledge would, of course, be disastrous to my ambitions. That is why
+I wanted to find out how much you know. You know too much, too much by
+half; and since you have walked into the lion's den, you shall never
+leave it alive." With this he sprang to the wall and tore down the
+rapiers, one of which he flung at Maurice's feet.
+
+Maurice felt the hand of paralysis on his nerves. He looked at the
+rapier, then at Beauvais, dazed and incapable of movement. It had been
+so sudden.
+
+"And when they find you in some alley in the lower town they will put
+it down to thieves. You are young and thoughtless," Beauvais went on
+banteringly. "A little discretion and you might have gone with a whole
+skin. We never forget a woman's face, and I knew that you would not
+forget hers. Don't trouble yourself about leaping through the windows;
+the fall will kill you less effectually than I shall."
+
+Maurice pulled himself together. The prospect of death brought back
+lucidity of mind. He at once saw the hopelessness of his position. He
+cursed his lack of forethought. He became pale and furious, but his
+head cleared. His life hung in the balance. He now translated Beauvais's
+smile.
+
+"So you wish to add another to the list?" he said.
+
+"To shield one crime, a man must commit many others. O, this will not be
+murder. It will be a duel, in which you will have no chance. Pick up the
+sword, if only for form's sake." Beauvais caught the wrist thong of the
+rapier between his teeth and rapidly divested himself of his jacket and
+saber straps. With his back toward the door, he rolled up his sleeve and
+discovered a formidable forearm. He tried the blade and thrust several
+times into the air.
+
+"What promise have I," said Maurice, "that you will not run me through
+when I stoop for the sword?" This question did not serve.
+
+Beauvais laughed. "I never get angry in moments like these. I am giving
+you a sword to ease my conscience. I do not assassinate boys."
+
+"But supposing I should kill you by chance?"
+
+Beauvais laughed again. "That is not possible."
+
+Maurice had faced death before, but with more confidence. The thought
+that he had poked his head into a trap stirred him disagreeably. He saw
+that Beauvais possessed a superabundance of confidence, and confidence
+is half of any battle. He picked up the sword and held it between his
+knees, while he threw off his coat and vest, and unbuttoned his collar
+and cuffs. What he had to sell would be sold as dearly as possible. He
+tested the blade, took in a deep breath, fell easily into position--and
+waited.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. SOME PASSAGES AT ARMS
+
+There comes a moment to every man, who faces an imminent danger, when
+the mental vision expands and he sees beyond. By this transient gift of
+prescience he knows what the end will be, whether he is to live or die.
+As Maurice looked into the merciless eyes of his enemy, a dim knowledge
+came to him that this was to be an event and not a catastrophe, a
+fragment of a picture yet to be fully drawn. His confidence and courage
+returned. He thanked God, however, that the light above equalized their
+positions, and that the shadows were behind them.
+
+The swords came together with a click light but ominous. Immediately
+Beauvais stepped back, suddenly threw forward his body, and delivered
+three rapid thrusts. Maurice met them firmly, giving none.
+
+"Ah!" cried Beauvais; "that is good. You know a little. There will be
+sport, besides."
+
+Maurice shut his lips the tighter, and worked purely on the defensive.
+His fencing master had taught him two things, silence and watchfulness.
+While Beauvais made use of his forearm, Maurice as yet depended solely
+on his wrist. Once they came together, guard to guard, neither daring
+to break away until by mutual agreement, spoken only by the eyes, both
+leaped backward out of reach. There was no sound save the quick light
+stamp of feet and the angry murmur of steel scraping against steel.
+Sometimes they moved circlewise, with free blades, waiting and watching.
+Up to now Beauvais's play had been by the book, so to speak, and he
+began to see that his opponent was well read.
+
+"Which side is the pretty rose?" seeking to distract Maurice. "Tell me,
+and I will pin it to you."
+
+Not a muscle moved in Maurice's face.
+
+"It is too, bad," went on Beauvais, "that her Highness finds a lover
+only to lose him. You fool! I read your eyes when you picked up that
+rose. Princesses are not for such as you. I will find her a lover, it
+will be neither you nor Prince Frederick--ah! you caught that nicely.
+But you depend too much on the wrist. Presently it will tire; and
+then--pouf!"
+
+Now and then a a flame, darting from the grate, sparkled on the polished
+steel, and from the steel it shot into the watchful eyes. A quarter
+of an hour passed; still Maurice remained on the defensive. At first
+Beauvais misunderstood the reason, and thought Maurice did not dare run
+the risk of passing from defensive to offensive. But by and by the froth
+of impatience crept into his veins. He could not penetrate above or
+below that defense. The man before him was of marble, with a wrist of
+iron; he neither smiled nor spoke, there was no sign of life at all,
+except in the agile legs, the wrist, and eyes. The Colonel decided to
+change his tactics.
+
+"When I have killed you," he said, "I shall search your pockets, for
+I know that you lie when you say that you have not those certificates.
+Madame was a fool to send you. No man lives who may be trusted. And what
+is your game? Save the Osians? Small good it will do you. Her Highness
+will wed Prince Frederick--mayhap--and all you will get is cold thanks.
+And in such an event, have you reckoned on Madame the duchess? War! And
+who will win? Madame; for she has not only her own army, but mine. Come,
+come! Speak, for when you leave this room your voice will be silent.
+Make use of the gift, since it is about to leave you."
+
+The reply was a sudden straightening of the arm. The blade slipped in
+between the Colonel's forearm and body, and was out again before the
+soldier fully comprehended what had happened. Maurice permitted a cold
+smile to soften the rigidity of his face. Beauvais saw the smile, and
+read it. The thrust had been rendered harmless intentionally. An inch
+nearer, and he had been a dead man. To accomplish such a delicate piece
+of sword play required nothing short of mastery. Beauvais experienced a
+disagreeable chill, which was not unmixed with chagrin. The boy had held
+his life in his hand, and had spared it. He set his teeth, and let loose
+with a fury before which nothing could stand; and Maurice was forced
+back step by step until he was almost up with the wall.
+
+"You damned fool!" the Colonel snarled, "you'll never get that chance
+again."
+
+For the next few minutes it took all the splendid defense Maurice
+possessed to keep the spark in his body. The Colonel's sword was no
+longer a sword, it was a flame; which circled, darted, hissed and
+writhed. Twice Maurice felt the bite of it, once in the arm and again in
+the thigh. These were not deep, but they told him that the end was but
+a short way off. He had no match for this brilliant assault. Something
+must be done, and that at once. He did not desire the Colonel's death,
+and the possibility of accomplishing this was now extremely doubtful.
+But he wanted to live. Life was just beginning--the rough road had
+been left behind. He was choosing between his life and the Colonel's.
+Beauvais, after the fashion of the old masters, was playing for the
+throat. This upward thrusting, when continuous, is difficult to meet,
+and Maurice saw that sooner or later the blade would reach home. If not
+sudden death, it meant speechlessness, and death as a finality. Then the
+voice of his guardian angel spoke.
+
+"I do not wish your life," he said, breaking the silence, "but at the
+same time I wish to live--ah!" Maurice leaped back just in time. As it
+was, the point of his enemy's blade scratched his chin.
+
+They broke and circled. The Colonel feinted. Maurice, with his elbow
+against his side and his forearm extended, waited. Again the Colonel
+lunged for the throat. This time, instead of meeting it in tierce,
+Maurice threw his whole force forward in such a manner as to bring
+the steel guard of his rapier full on the Colonel's point. There was a
+ringing sound of snapping steel, and the Colonel stood with nothing but
+a stump in his grasp.
+
+"There you are," said Maurice, a heat-flash passing over him. Had he
+swerved a hair's breadth from the line, time would have tacked finis to
+the tale. "Now, I am perfectly willing to talk," putting his point to
+the Colonel's breast. "It would inconvenience me to kill you, but do not
+count too much on that."
+
+"Damn you!" cried the Colonel, giving way, his face yellow with rage,
+chagrin and fear. "Kill me, for I swear to God that one or the other of
+us must die! Damn you and your meddling nose!"
+
+"Damn away, chevalier d'industrie; damn away. But live, live, live! That
+will be the keenest punishment. Live! O, my brave killer of boys,
+you thought to play with me as a cat with a mouse, eh? Eh, Captain
+Urquijo-Beauvais-and-What-is-your-name?" He pressed the point here,
+there, everywhere. "You were too confident. Pardon me if I appear to
+brag, but I have taken lessons of the best fencing masters in Europe,
+and three times, while you devoted your talents to monologues, I could
+have pinned you like one of those butterflies on the wall there. Have
+you ever heard of the sword of Damocles? Well, well; it hangs over many
+a head to-day. I will be yours. I give you forty-eight hours to arrange
+your personal affairs. If after that time you are still in this part
+of the country, I shall inform the proper authorities in Vienna. The
+republic has representation there. Of a noble Austrian house, on the eve
+of recall? I think not."
+
+Beauvais made a desperate attempt to clutch the blade in his hands.
+
+"No, no!" laughed Maurice, making rapid prods which caused Beauvais to
+wince. "Now, back; farther, farther. I do not like the idea of having my
+back to the door."
+
+Beauvais suddenly wheeled and dashed for the mantel. But as he
+endeavored to lay hand on the revolver Maurice brought down the blade on
+the Colonel's knuckles, leaving a livid welt. Maurice took possession
+of the weapon, while a grimace of agony shot over the Colonel's face.
+Seeing that the chambers were loaded, Maurice threw down the sword.
+
+"Well, well!" he said, cocking the weapon. "And I saw it when I entered
+the room. It would have saved a good deal of trouble." Beauvais grew
+white. "O," Maurice continued, "I am not going to shoot you. I wish
+merely to call your valet." He aimed at the grate and pressed the
+trigger, and the report, vibrating within the four walls, was deafening.
+
+A moment passed, and the valet, with bulging eyes and blanched face,
+peered in. Seeing how matters stood, he made as though to retreat.
+
+Maurice leveled the smoking revolver. "Come in, Francois; your master
+will have need of you."
+
+Francois complied, vertigo in his limbs. "My God!" he cried, wringing
+his hands.
+
+"Your master tried to murder me," said Maurice. Francois had heard
+voices like this before, and it conveyed to him that a fine quality of
+anger lay close to the surface. "Take down yonder window curtain cord."
+Francois did so. "Now bind your master's hands with it."
+
+"Francois," cried the Colonel, "if you so much as lay a finger on me,
+I'll kill you."
+
+"Francois, I will kill you if you don't," said Maurice.
+
+"My God!" wailed the valet at loss which to obey when to obey either
+meant death. His teeth chattered.
+
+"You may have all the time you want, Francois, to wring your hands when
+I am gone. Come; to work. Colonel, submit. I'm in a hurry and have no
+time to spare. While I do not desire to kill you, self-preservation will
+force me to put a bullet into your hide, which will make you an inmate
+of the city hospital. Bind his hands behind his back, and no more
+nonsense."
+
+"Monsieur," appealingly to Beauvais, "my God, I am forced. He will kill
+me!"
+
+"So will I," grimly; "by God, I will!" Beauvais had a plan. If he could
+keep Maurice long enough, help might arrive. And he had an excellent
+story to tell. Still Francois doddered. With his eye on the Colonel and
+the revolver sighted, Maurice picked up the sword. He gave Francois a
+vigorous prod. Francois needed no further inducement. He started forward
+with alacrity. In the wink of an eye he threw the cord around Beauvais's
+arms and pinned them to his sides. Beauvais swore, but the valet was
+strong in his fright. He struggled and wound and knotted and tied,
+murmuring his pitiful "Mon Dieu!" the while, till the Colonel was the
+central figure of a Gordian knot.
+
+"That will do," said Maurice. "Now, Francois, good and faithful servant,
+take your master over to the lounge, and sit down beside him until I get
+into my clothes. Yes; that's it." He shoved his collar and tie into
+a pocket, slipped on his vest and coat, put on his hat and slung his
+topcoat over his arm. During these maneuvers the revolver remained
+conspicuously in sight. "Now, Francois, lead the way to the street door.
+By the time you return to your illustrious master, who is the prince or
+duke of something or other, pursuit will be out of the question. Now, as
+for you," turning to Beauvais, "the forty-eight hours hold good. During
+that time I shall go armed. Forty-eight hours from now I shall inform
+the authorities at the nearest consulate. If they catch you, that's your
+affair. Off we go, Francois."
+
+"By God!--" began Beauvais, struggling to his feet.
+
+"Come so far as this door," warned Maurice, "and, bound or not, I'll
+knock you down. Hang you! Do you think my temper will improve in your
+immediate vicinity? Do you think for a moment that I do not lust for
+your blood as heartily as you lust for mine? Go to the devil your own
+way; you'll go fast enough!" He caught Francois by the shoulders and
+pushed him into the hall, followed, and closed the door. Francois had
+been graduated from the stables, therefore his courage never rose to
+sublime heights. All the way down the stairs he lamented; and each time
+he turned his head and saw the glitter of the revolver barrel he choked
+with terror.
+
+"If you do not kill me, Monsieur, he will; he will, I know he will!
+My God, how did it happen? He will kill me!" and the voice sank into a
+muffled sob.
+
+Despite the gravity of the situation, Maurice could not repress his
+laughter. "He will not harm you; he threatened you merely to delay me.
+Open the door." He stepped out into the refreshing air. "By the way,
+tell your master not to go to the trouble of having me arrested, for the
+first thing in the morning I shall place a sealed packet in the hands
+of the British minister, to be opened if I do not call for it within
+twenty-four hours. And say to your master that I shall keep the rose."
+
+"Mon Dieu! A woman! I might have known!" ejaculated Francois, as the
+door banged in his face.
+
+Maurice, on reaching the pavement, took to his legs, for he saw three
+men rapidly approaching. Perhaps they had heard the pistol shot. He
+concluded not to wait to learn. He continued his rush till he gained his
+room. It was two o'clock. He had been in the Colonel's room nearly three
+hours. It seemed only so many minutes. He hunted for his brandy, found
+it and swallowed several mouthfuls. Then he dropped into a chair from
+sheer exhaustion. Reaction laid hold of him. His hands shook, his legs
+trembled, and perspiration rolled down his cheek.
+
+"By George!" This exclamation stood alone, but it was an Odyssey. He
+remained stupefied, staring at his shoes, over which his stockings had
+fallen. His shirt buttons were gone, and the bosom was guiltless of its
+former immaculateness. After a time he became conscious of a burning
+pain in the elbow of his right arm. He glanced down at his hand, to find
+it covered with drying blood. He jumped up and cast about his clothes.
+One leg of his trousers was soaked, and the dull ache in his thigh
+told the cause. He salved the wounds and bound them in strips of
+handkerchiefs, which he held in place by using some of the cast-off
+cravats.
+
+"That was about as close to death as a man can get and pull out. I
+feel as if I had swallowed that cursed blade of his. I am an ass, sure
+enough. I've always a bad cold when there's a rat about; can't smell
+him. And the rascal remembered me! Will he stay in spite of my threat?
+I'll hang on here till to-morrow. If he stays--I won't. He has the
+devil's own of a sword. Hang it, my nerves are all gone to smash."
+
+Soon some gentler thought took hold, and he smiled tenderly. He brought
+forth the rose, turned it this way and that, studied it, stroked it,
+held it to his lips as a lover holds the hand of the woman he loves. Her
+rose; somehow his heart told him that she had laughed because Beauvais
+had stooped in vain.
+
+"Ah, Maurice," he said, "you are growing over fond. But why not? Who
+will know? To have loved is something."
+
+He crept into bed; but sleep refused him its offices, and he tossed
+about in troubled dreams. He fought all kinds of duels with all sorts
+of weapons. He was killed a half dozen times, but the archbishop
+always gave him something which rekindled the vital spark. A thousand
+Beauvaises raged at him. A thousand princesses were ever in the
+background, waiting to be saved. He swore to kill these Beauvaises, and
+after many fruitless endeavors, he succeeded in smothering them in their
+gray pelisses. Then he woke, as dreamers always wake when they pass some
+great dream-crisis, and found himself in a deadly struggle with a pillow
+and a bed-post. He laughed and sprang out of bed.
+
+"It's no use, I can't sleep. I am an old woman."
+
+So he lit his pipe and sat dreaming with his eyes open, smoking and
+smoking, until the sickly pallor of dawn appeared in the sky, and he
+knew that day had come.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. A MINOR CHORD AND A CHANGE OF MOVEMENT
+
+Marshal Kampf, wrapt in his military cloak, with the peak of his
+cap drawn over his eyes, sat on one of the rustic benches in the
+archbishop's gardens and reflected. The archbishop had announced an
+informal levee, the first since the king's illness. He had impressed the
+Marshal with the fact that his presence was both urgent and necessary.
+Disturbed as he was by the unusual command, the Marshal had arrived an
+hour too early. Since the prelate would not rise until nine, the Marshal
+told the valet that he would wait in the gardens.
+
+An informal levee, he mused. What was the meaning of it? Had that master
+of craft and silence found a breach in the enemy's fortifications? He
+rubbed the chill from his nose, crossed and re-crossed his legs and
+teetered till the spurs on his boots set up a tuneful jingle.
+
+So far as he himself was concerned, he was not worried. The prelate knew
+his views and knew that he would stand or fall with them. He had never
+looked for benefits, as did those around him. He had offered what he
+had without hope of reward, because he had considered it his duty. And,
+after all, what had the Osian done that he should be driven to this
+ignominious end? His motives never could be questioned; each act had
+been in some way for the country's good. Every king is a usurper to
+those who oppose him.
+
+Would the kingdom be bettered in having a queen against whom the
+confederation itself was opposed? Would it not be adding a twofold
+burden to the one? The kingdom was at peace with those countries
+from which it had most to fear. Was it wise to antagonize them? Small
+independent states were independent only by courtesy. Again, why had
+Austria contrived to place an alien on the throne, in face of popular
+sentiment? Would Austria's interests have been less safe in the advent
+of rightful succession? Up to now, what had Austria gained by ignoring
+the true house? Outwardly nothing, but below the surface? Who could
+answer?
+
+For eleven years he had tried to discover the secret purpose of Austria,
+but, like others, he had failed; and the Austrian minister was less
+decipherable than the "Chinese puzzle." He was positive that none of
+the arch-conspirators knew; they were blinded by self-interest. And the
+archbishop? The Marshal rubbed his nose again, not, however, because
+it was cold. Did any one know what was going on behind the smiling mask
+which the reticent prelate showed to the world? The Marshal poked his
+chin above his collar, and the wrinkles fell away from his gray eyes.
+
+The sky was clear and brilliant, and a tonic from the forests sweetened
+the rushing air. The lake was ruffled out of its usual calm, and rolled
+and galloped along the distant shores and flashed on the golden sands.
+Above the patches of red and brown and yellow the hills and mountains
+stood out in bold, decided lines.
+
+Water fowl swept along the marshes. The doves in twos and threes
+fluttered down to the path, strutted about in their peculiarly awkward
+fashion, and doubtfully eyed the silent gray figure on the bench, as
+if to question his right to be there this time of the morning, their
+trysting hour. Presently the whole flock came down, and began cooing and
+waltzing at the Marshal's feet. He soon discovered the cause.
+
+Her Royal Highness was coming through the opening in the hedgerow which
+separated the two confines. She carried a basket on her arm, and the
+bulldog followed at her heels, holding his injured leg in the air, and
+limping on the remaining three. At the sight of her the doves rose and
+circled above her head. She smiled and threw into the air handful after
+handful of cake and bread crumbs. In their eagerness the doves alighted
+on her shoulders, on the rim of the basket, and even on the broad
+back of the dog, who was too sober to give attention to this seeming
+indignity. He kept his eye on his mistress's skirts, moved when she
+moved, and stopped when she stopped. A gray-white cloud enveloped them.
+
+The Marshal, with a curious sensation in his heart, observed this
+exquisite, living picture. He was childless; and though he was by
+nature undemonstrative, he was very fond of this youth. Her cheeks were
+scarlet, her rosy lips were parted in excitement, and her eyes glistened
+with pleasure. With all her twenty years, she was but ten in fancy;
+a woman, yet a child, unlettered in worldly wit, wise in her love of
+nature. Not until she had thrown away the last of the crumbs did she
+notice the Marshal. He rose and bowed.
+
+"Good morning, your Highness. I am very much interested in your court.
+And do you hold it every morning?"
+
+"Even when it rains," she said, smiling. "I am so glad to see you; I
+wanted to talk to you last night, but I could not find the opportunity.
+Let me share the bench with you."
+
+And youth and age sat down together. The bulldog planted himself in the
+middle of the path and blinked at his sworn enemy. The Marshal had no
+love for him, and he was well aware of it; at present, an armistice.
+
+The princess gazed at the rollicking waters, at her doves, thence into
+the inquiring gray eyes of the old soldier.
+
+"Do you remember," she said, "how I used to climb on your knees, ever so
+long ago, and listen to your fairy stories?"
+
+"Eh! And is it possible that your Highness remembers?" wrinkles of
+delight gathering in his cheeks. "But why `ever so long ago'? It was but
+yesterday. And your Highness remembers!"
+
+"I am like my father; I never forget!" She looked toward the waters
+again. "I can recall only one story. It was about a princess who lost
+all her friends through the offices of a wicked fairy. I remember it
+because it was the only story you told me that had a sad ending. It was
+one of Andersen's. Her father and mother died, and the moment she was
+left alone her enemies set to work and toppled over her throne. She was
+cast out into the world, having no friend but a dog; but the dog always
+found something to eat, and protected her from giants and robbers and
+wolves.
+
+"Many a time I thought of her, and cried because she was so unhappy.
+Well, she traveled from place to place, footsore and weary, but in her
+own country no one dared aid her, for fear of displeasing the wicked
+fairy, who at this time was all powerful. So she entered a strange land,
+where some peasants took her in, clothed and fed her, and gave her a
+staff and a flock of geese to tend. And day after day she guarded the
+flock, telling her sorrows to the dog, how she missed the dear ones and
+the home of her childhood.
+
+"One day the reigning prince of this strange land passed by while
+hunting, and he saw the princess tending her geese. He made inquiries,
+and when he found that the beautiful goose-girl was a princess, he
+offered to marry her. She consented to become his wife, because she was
+too delicate to drudge. So she and her dog went to live at the palace.
+Once she was married the dog behaved strangely, whining softly, and
+refusing to be consoled. The prince was very kind to them both.
+
+"Alas! It seems that when she left her own country the good fairy had
+lost all track of her, to find her when it was too late. The dog was a
+prince under a wicked spell, and when the spell fell away the princess
+knew that she loved him, and not her husband. She pined away and
+died. How many times I have thought of her, poor, lonely, fairy-tale
+princess!"
+
+The old soldier blinked at the doves, and there was a furrow between his
+eyes. Yes; how well he remembered telling her that story. But, as she
+repeated it, it was clothed with a strange significance. Somehow, he
+found himself voiceless; he knew not how to reply.
+
+"Monsieur," she said suddenly, "tell me, what has my poor father done
+that these people should hate him and desire his ruin?"
+
+"He has been kind to them, my child," his gaze still riveted on the
+doves; "that is all. He has given them beautiful parks, he has made them
+a beautiful city. A king who thinks of his people's welfare is never
+understood. And ignorant and ungrateful people always hate those to whom
+they are under obligations. It is the way of the world."
+
+"And--and you, Marshal?" timidly.
+
+"And I?"
+
+"Yes. They whisper that--that--O, Marshal, is it you who will forsake
+us in our need? I have heard many things of late which were not intended
+for my ears. My father and I, we are so alone. I have never known the
+comradeship of young people; I have never had that which youth longs
+for--a confidant of my own age. The young people I know serve me simply
+for their own ends, and not because they love me.
+
+"I have never spoken thus before to-day, save to this dog. He has been
+my confidant; but he can not speak except with his kind old eyes, and he
+can not understand as I would have him. And they hate even him because
+they know that I love him. Poor dog!
+
+"What my father has done has always been wrong in his own eyes, but he
+sinned for my sake, and God will forgive him. He gave up the home he
+loved for my sake. O, that I had known and understood! I was only six.
+We are so alone; we have no place to go, no friends save two, and they
+are helpless. And now I am to make a sacrifice for him to repay him for
+all he has done for me. I have promised my hand to one I do not love;
+even he forsakes me. But love is not the portion of princesses. Love to
+them is a fairy story. To secure my father's throne I have sacrificed my
+girlhood dreams. Ah! and they were so sweet and dear."
+
+She put a hand to her throat as if something had tightened there.
+"Marshal, I beg of you to tell me the truth, the truth! Is my father
+dying? Is he? He--they will not tell me the truth. And I. .. never to
+hear his voice again! The truth, for pity's sake!" She caught at his
+hands and strove to read his eyes. "For pity's sake!"
+
+He drew his breath deeply. He dared not look into her eyes for fear she
+might see the tears in his; so he bent hastily and pressed her hands to
+his lips. But in his heart he knew that his promise to the dead was gone
+with the winds, and that he would shed the last drop of blood in his
+withered veins for the sake of this sad, lonely child.
+
+"Your father, my child, will never stand up straight again," he said.
+"As for the rest, that is in the hands of God. But I swear to you that
+this dried-up old heart beats only for you. I will stand or fall with
+you, in good times or bad." And he rubbed his nose more fiercely than
+ever. "Had I a daughter--But there! I have none."
+
+"My heart is breaking," she said, with a little sob. She sank back, her
+head drooped to the arm of the bench, and she made no effort to stem the
+flood of tears. "I have no mother, and now my father is to leave me.
+And I love him so, I love him so! He has sacrificed all his happiness to
+secure mine--in vain. I laugh and smile because he asks me to, and all
+the while my heart is breaking, breaking."
+
+At this juncture the doves rose hurriedly. The Marshal discovered the
+archbishop's valet making toward him.
+
+"Monsieur the Marshal, Monseigneur breakfasts and requests you to join
+him."
+
+"Immediately;" and the Marshal rose. He placed his hand on the dark
+head. "Keep up your heart, my child," he said, "and we shall see if I
+have grown too old for service." He squared his shoulders and followed
+the valet, who viewed the scene with a valet's usual nonchalance. When
+the Marshal reached the steps to the side entrance, he looked back. The
+dog had taken his place, and the girl had buried her face in his neck. A
+moment later the old soldier was ushered into the archbishop's presence,
+but neither with fear nor uneasiness in his heart.
+
+"Ah! Good morning, Marshal," said the prelate. "Be seated. Did you not
+find it chilly in the gardens?"
+
+"Not the least. It is a fine day. I have just left her Royal Highness."
+
+The prelate arched his eyebrows, and an interrogation shot out from
+under them.
+
+"Yes," answered the observant soldier. "My heart has ever been hers;
+this time it is my hand and brain."
+
+The prelate's egg spoon remained poised in mid-air; then it dropped with
+a clatter into the cup! But a moment gone he had held a sword in his
+hand; he was disarmed.
+
+"I have promised to stand and fall with her."
+
+"Stand and fall? Why not 'or'?" with a long, steadfast gaze.
+
+"Did I say 'and'? Well, then," stolidly, "perhaps that is the word I
+meant to use. If I do the one I shall certainly do the other."
+
+The archbishop absently stirred his eggs.
+
+"God is witness," said the Marshal, "I have always been honest."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And neutral."
+
+"Yes; honest and neutral."
+
+"But a man, a lonely man like myself, can not always master the impulses
+of the heart; and I have surrendered to mine."
+
+The listener turned to some documents which lay beside the cup, and
+idly fingered them. "I am glad; I am very glad. I have always
+secretly admired you; and to tell the truth, I have feared you most of
+all--because you are honest."
+
+The Marshal shifted his saber around and drew his knees together.
+"I return the compliment," frankly. "I have never feared you; I have
+distrusted you."
+
+"And why distrusted?"
+
+"Because Leopold of Osia would never have forsaken his birthright, nor
+looked toward a throne, had you not pointed the way and coveted the
+archbishopric."
+
+"I wished only to make him great;" but the prelate lowered his eyes.
+
+"And share his greatness," was the shrewd rejoinder. "I am an old
+man, and frankness in old age is pardonable. There are numbers of
+disinterested men in the world, but unfortunately they happen to be
+dead. O, I do not blame you; there is human nature in most of us. But
+the days of Richelieus and Mazarins are past. The Church is simply the
+church, and is no longer the power behind the throne. I have served the
+house of Auersperg for fifty years, that is to say, since I was sixteen;
+I had hoped to die in the service. Perhaps my own reason for distrusting
+you has not been disinterested."
+
+"Perhaps not."
+
+"And as I now stand I shall die neither in the service of the house of
+Auersperg nor of Osia. It is not the princess; it is the lonely girl."
+
+"I need not tell you," said the prelate quietly, "that I am in Bleiberg
+only for that purpose. And since we are together, I will tell you
+this: Madame the duchess will never sit upon this throne. To-day I am
+practically regent, with full powers from his Majesty. I have summoned
+von Wallenstein and Mollendorf for a purpose which I shall make known to
+you." He held up two documents, and gently waving them: "These contain
+the dismissal of both gentlemen, together with my reasons. There were
+three; one I shall now destroy because it has suddenly become void." He
+tore it up, turned, and flung the pieces into the grate.
+
+The Marshal glanced instinctively at his shoulder straps, and saw that
+they had come very near to oblivion.
+
+"There is nothing more, Marshal," went on the prelate. "What I had to
+say to you has slipped my mind. Under the change of circumstances, it
+might embarrass you to meet von Wallenstein and Mollendorf. You have
+spoken frankly, and in justice to you I will return in kind. Yes, in the
+old days I was ambitious; but God has punished me through those I love.
+I shall leave to you the selection of a new Colonel of the cuirassiers."
+
+"What! and Beauvais, too?" exclaimed the Marshal.
+
+"Yes. My plans require it. I have formed a new cabinet, which will meet
+to-night at eight. I shall expect you to be present."
+
+The two old men rose. Suddenly, a kindly smile broke through the
+austereness of the prelate's countenance, and he thrust out his hand;
+the old soldier met it.
+
+"Providence always watches over the innocent," said the prelate, "else
+we would have been still at war. Good morning."
+
+The Marshal returned home, thoughtful and taciturn. What would be the
+end?
+
+Ten minutes after the Marshal's departure, von Wallenstein and
+Mollendorf entered the prelate's breakfast room.
+
+"Good morning, Messieurs," said the churchman, the expression on his
+face losing its softness, and the glint of triumph stealing into
+his keen eyes. "I am acting on behalf of his Majesty this morning,"
+presenting a document to each. "Observe them carefully." He turned and
+left the room. The archbishop had not only eaten a breakfast, he had
+devoured a cabinet.
+
+Count von Wallenstein watched the retreating figure of the prelate till
+the door closed behind it; then he smiled at Mollendorf, who had not the
+courage to return it, and who stared at the parchment in his hand as if
+it were possessed of basilisk eyes.
+
+"Monseigneur," said the count, as he glanced through the contents of
+the document, "has forestalled me. Well, well; I do not begrudge him his
+last card. He has played it; let us go."
+
+"Perhaps," faltered Mollendorf, "he has played his first card. What are
+you going to do?"
+
+"Remain at home and wait. And I shall not have long to wait. The end is
+near."
+
+"Count, I tell you that the archbishop is not a man to play thus unless
+something strong were behind him. You do wrong not to fear him."
+
+Von Wallenstein recalled the warning of the Colonel of the cuirassiers.
+"Nevertheless, we are too strong to fear him."
+
+"Monseigneur is in correspondence with Austria," said the minister of
+police, quietly.
+
+"You said nothing of this before," was the surprised reply.
+
+"It was only this morning that I learned it."
+
+The count's gaze roamed about the room, and finally rested on the
+charred slips of paper in the grate. He shrugged.
+
+"If he corresponds with Austria it is too late," he said. "Come, let us
+go." He snapped his fingers in the air, and Mollendorf followed him from
+the room.
+
+
+* * * * * *
+
+
+The princess still remained on the rustic bench; her head was bowed, but
+her tears were dried.
+
+"O, Bull," she whispered, "and you and I shall soon be all alone!"
+
+A few doves fluttered about her; the hills flamed beneath the chill
+September sky, the waters sang and laughed, but she saw not nor heard.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. A CHANCE RIDE IN THE NIGHT
+
+Maurice, who had wisely slept the larger part of the day, and amused
+himself at solitary billiards until dinner, came out on the terrace
+to smoke his after-dinner cigar. He watched the sun as, like a ball of
+rusted brass, it slid down behind the hills, leaving the glowing embers
+of a smoldering day on the hilltops. The vermilion deepened into charred
+umber, and soon the west was a blackened grate; another day vanished in
+ashes. The filmy golden pallor of twilight now blurred the landscape;
+the wind increased with a gayer, madder, keener touch; the lake went
+billowing in shadows of gray and black, and one by one the lamps of the
+city sprang up, vivid as sparks from an anvil. Now and again the thin,
+clear music of the band drifted across from the park. The fountain
+glimmered in the Platz, the cafes began to glitter, carriages rolled
+hither and thither. The city had taken on its colorful night.
+
+"Well, here's another day gone," he mused, rubbing his elbow, which
+was yet stiff. "I am anxious to know what that sinner is doing. Has
+he pulled up stakes or has he stayed to get a whack at me? I hope he's
+gone; he's a bad Indian, and if anything, he'll want my scalp in his
+belt before he goes. Hang it! It seems that I have poked my head into
+every bear trap in the kingdom. I may not get out of the next one. How
+clever I was, to be sure! It all comes from loving the dramatic. I am a
+diplomat, but nobody would guess it at first sight. To talk to a man as
+I talked to him, and to threaten! He said I was young; I was, but I grow
+older every day. And the wise word now is, don't imitate the bull of
+the trestle," as he recalled an American cartoon which at that day was
+having vogue in the American colony in Vienna.
+
+"I like adventure, I know, but I'm going to give the Colonel a wide
+berth. If he sees me first, off the board I go. Where will he go--to the
+duchy? I trust not; we both can not settle in that territory; it's too
+small. And yet I am bound to go back; it is not my promise so much as
+it is my cursed curiosity. By George!" rubbing his elbow gently. "And to
+think, Maurice, that you might not have witnessed this sunset but for
+a bit of fencing trickery. What a turn that picture of Inez gave me! I
+knew him in a second--and like the ass I was, I told him so. And to meet
+him here, almost a left-handed king; no wonder I did not recognize him.
+
+"I should like to come in on Fitzgerald to-night. His father must have
+had a crazy streak in him somewhere. Four millions to throw away;
+humph! And who the deuce has those certificates?" He lolled against
+the parapet. "If I had four millions, and if Prince Frederick had
+disappeared for good.... Why are things so jumbled up, at sixes and
+sevens? We are all human beings; why should some be placed higher than
+others? A prince is no better than I am, and may be not half so good.
+
+"Sometimes I like to get up high somewhere and look down on every one
+else; every one else looks so small that it's comforting. The true
+philosopher has no desire; he sits down and views the world as if he
+were not a part of it. Perhaps it is best so. Yes, I would like four
+millions and a principality.... Heigho! how bracing the air is, and what
+a night for a ride! I've a mind to exercise Madame's horse. A long lone
+ride on the opposite side of the lake, on the road to Italy; come, let's
+try it. Better that than mope."
+
+He mounted to the veranda, and for the first time he noticed the
+suppressed excitement which lit the faces of those around him. Groups
+were gathered here and there, talking, gesticulating, and flourishing
+the evening papers. He moved toward the nearest group.
+
+"The archbishop has dismissed the cabinet... crisis imminent."
+
+"The Austrian minister has recalled his invitations to the embassy
+ball."
+
+"The archbishop will not be able to form another cabinet."
+
+"Count von Wallenstein..."
+
+"Mollendorf and Beauvais, too--"
+
+"The king is dying... The archbishop has been given full powers."
+
+"The army will revolt unless Beauvais is recalled."
+
+"And the Marshal says here..."
+
+Maurice waited to hear no more, but climbed through the window into the
+office.
+
+"By George, something has happened since last night. I must have an
+evening paper." He found one, and read an elaborate account of what had
+taken place during the day. Von Wallenstein had been relieved of the
+finance. Mollendorf of the police, Erzberg of foreign affairs, and
+Beauvais of his epaulettes. There remained only the archbishop, the
+chancellor and the Marshal. The editorial was virulent in its attack on
+the archbishop, blustered and threatened, and predicted that the fall
+of the dynasty was but a matter of a few hours. For it asserted that
+the prelate could not form another cabinet, and without a cabinet
+there could be no government. It was not possible for the archbishop to
+shoulder the burden alone; he must reinstate the ministry or fall.
+
+"And this is the beginning of the end," said Maurice, throwing aside the
+paper. "What will happen next? The old prelate is not a man to play to
+the gallery. Has he found out the double dealing of Beauvais? That takes
+a burden off my shoulders--unless he goes at once to the duchy. But why
+wasn't the cabinet dismissed ages ago? It is now too late. And where is
+Prince Frederick to the rescue? There is something going on, and what it
+is only the archbishop knows. That smile of his! How will it end? I'd
+like to see von Mitter, who seems to be a good gossip. And that poor,
+friendless, paralytic king! I say, but it makes the blood grow warm."
+
+He left the chair and paced the office confines. Only one thing went
+echoing through his brain, and that was he could do nothing. The sooner
+he settled down in the attitude of a spectator the better for him.
+Besides, he was an official in the employ of a foreign country, and
+it would be the height of indiscretion to meddle, even in a private
+capacity. It would be to jeopardize his diplomatic career, and that
+would be ridiculous.
+
+A porter touched him on the shoulder.
+
+"A letter for your Excellency."
+
+It was from the American minister in Vienna.
+
+"My dear Carewe: I have a service to ask of you. The British minister is
+worried over the disappearance of a fellow-countryman, Lord Fitzgerald.
+He set out for Bleiberg, leaving instructions to look him up if nothing
+was heard of him within a week. Two weeks have gone. Knowing you to
+be in Bleiberg, I believed you might take the trouble to look into the
+affair. The British ambassador hints at strange things, as if he feared
+foul play. I shall have urgent need of you by the first of October; our
+charge d'affaires is to return home on account of ill-health, and your
+appointment to that office is a matter of a few days."
+
+Maurice whistled. "That is good news; not Haine's illness, but that I
+have an excuse to meddle here. I'll telegraph at once. And I'll take
+the ride besides." He went to his room and buckled on his spurs, and
+thoughtfully slipped his revolver into a pocket. "I am not going to take
+any chances, even in the dark." Once again in the office, he stepped
+up to the desk and ordered his horse to be brought around to the cafe
+entrance.
+
+"Certainly," said the clerk. Then in low tones "There has been a curious
+exchange in saddles, Monsieur."
+
+"Saddles?"
+
+"Yes. The saddle in your stall is, curiously enough, stamped with the
+arms of the house of Auersperg. How that military saddle came into the
+stables is more than the grooms can solve."
+
+"O," said Maurice, with an assumption of carelessness; "that is all
+right. It's the saddle I arrived on. The horse and saddle belong to
+Madame the duchess. I have been visiting at the Red Chateau. I shall
+return in the morning."
+
+"Ah," said the clerk, with a furtive smile which Maurice lost; "that
+accounts for the mystery."
+
+"Here are two letters that must get in to-night's mails," Maurice said;
+"and also this telegram should be sent at once."
+
+"As Monsieur desires. Ah, I came near forgetting. There is a note for
+Monsieur, which came this afternoon while Monsieur was asleep."
+
+The envelope was unstamped, and the scrawl was unfamiliar to Maurice.
+On opening it he was surprised to find a hurriedly written note from
+Fitzgerald. In all probability it had been brought by the midnight
+courier on his return from the duchy.
+
+     "In God's name, Maurice, why do you linger?
+     To-morrow morning those consols must be here
+     or they will be useless. Hasten; you know what
+     it means to me.
+                                 Fitzgerald."
+
+Maurice perused it twice, and pulled at his lips. "Madame becomes
+impatient. Poor devil. Somebody is likely to become suddenly rich
+and somebody correspondingly poor. What will they say when I return
+empty-handed? Like as not Madame will accuse me--and Fitzgerald will
+believe her!... The archbishop! That accounts for this bold move. And
+how the deuce did he get hold of them? I give up." And his shoulders
+settled in resignation.
+
+He passed down into the cafe, from there to his horse, which a groom was
+holding at the curb. He swung into the saddle and tossed a coin to the
+man, who touched his cap.
+
+The early moon lifted its silvery bulk above the ragged east, and the
+patches of clouds which swarmed over the face of that white world of
+silence resembled so many rooks. Far away, at the farthermost shore of
+the lake, whenever the moon went free from the clouds, Maurice could see
+the slim gray line of the road which stretched toward Italy.
+
+"It's a fine night," he mused, glancing heavenward. The horse answered
+the touch of the spurs, and cantered away, glad enough to exchange
+the close air of the stables for this fresh gift of the night. Maurice
+guided him around the palaces into the avenue, which derived its name
+from the founder of the opera, in which most of the diplomatic families
+lived. Past the residence of Beauvais he went, and, gazing up at the
+lightless windows, a cold of short duration seized his spine. It bad
+been a hair's breadth betwixt him and death. "Your room, Colonel, is
+better than your company; and hereafter I shall endeavor to avoid both. I
+shall feel that cursed blade of yours for weeks to come."
+
+Carriages rolled past him. A gay throng in evening dress was
+crowding into the opera. The huge placard announced, "Norma--Mlle.
+Lenormand--Royal Opera Troupe." How he would have liked to hear it, with
+Lenormand in the title role. He laughed as he recalled the episodes in
+Vienna which were associated with this queen of song. He waved his
+hand as the opera house sank in the distance. "Au revoir, Celeste, ma
+charmante; adieu." By and by he reached the deserted part of the city,
+and in less than a quarter of an hour branched off into the broad road
+bordering the lake. The horse quickened his gait as he felt the stone
+of the streets no longer beneath his feet, which now fell with muffled
+rhythm on the sound earth. Maurice shared with him the delight of the
+open country, and began to talk to the animal.
+
+"A fine night, eh, old boy? I've ridden many backs, but none easier than
+yours. This air is what gives the blood its color. Too bad; you ought
+not to belong to Madame. She will never think as much of you as I
+should."
+
+The city was falling away behind, and a yellow vapor rose over it. The
+lake tumbled in moonshine. Maurice took to dreaming again--hope and a
+thousand stars, love and a thousand dreams.
+
+"God knows I love her; but what's the use? We can not all have what we
+want; let us make the best of what we have. Philosophy is a comfort only
+to old age. Why should youth bother to reason why? And I--I have not yet
+outgrown youth. I believed I had, but I have not. I did not dream she
+existed, and now she is more to me than anything else in the world.
+Why; I wonder why? I look into a pair of brown eyes, and am seized with
+madness. I hope. For what? O, Bucephalus! let us try to wake and leave
+the dream behind. The gratitude of a princess and a dog... and for this
+a rose. Well, it will prove the substance of many a pipe, many a kindly
+pipe. You miss a good deal, Bucephalus; smoking is an evil habit only to
+those who have not learned to smoke."
+
+The animal replied with a low whinney, and Maurice, believing that
+the horse had given an ear to his monologue, laughed. But he flattered
+himself. The horse whinneyed because he inhaled the faint odor of his
+kind. He drew down on the rein and settled into a swinging trot, which
+to Maurice's surprise was faster and easier than the canter. They
+covered a mile this way, when Maurice's roving eye discovered moving
+shadows, perhaps half a mile in advance.
+
+"Hello! we're not the only ones jogging along. Eh, what's that?"
+Something flashed brightly, like silver reflecting moonlight; then came
+a spark of flame, which died immediately, and later Maurice caught an
+echo which resembled the bursting of a leaf against the lips. "Come;
+that looks like a pistol shot."
+
+Again the flash of silver, broader and clearer this time; and Maurice
+could now separate the shadow-shapes. A carriage of some sort rolled
+from side to side, and two smaller shadows followed its wild flight.
+One--two--three times Maurice saw the sparks and heard the faint
+reports. He became excited. Something extraordinary was taking place on
+the lonely road. Suddenly the top of the carriage replied with spiteful
+flashes of red. Then the moon came out from behind the clouds, and
+the picture was vividly outlined. Two continuous flashes of silver....
+Cuirassiers! Maurice loosened the rein, and the horse went forward as
+smoothly as a sail. The distance grew visibly less. The carriage opened
+fire again, and Maurice heard the sinister m-m-m of a bullet winging
+past him.
+
+"The wrong man may get hit, Bucephalus," he said, bending to the neck
+of the horse; "which is not unusual. You're pulling them down, old boy;
+keep it up. There's trouble ahead, and since the cuirassiers are for the
+king, we'll stand by the cuirassiers."
+
+On they flew, nearer and nearer, until the pistol shots were no longer
+echoes. Two other horsemen came into view, in advance of the carriage.
+Five minutes more of this exciting chase, and the faces took on lines
+and grew into features. Up, up crept the gallant little horse, his hoofs
+rattling against the road like snares on a drum. When within a dozen
+rods, Maurice saw one of the cuirassiers turn and level a revolver at
+him. Fortunately the horse swerved, and the ball went wide.
+
+"Don't shoot!" Maurice yelled; "don't shoot!"
+
+The face he saw was von Mitter's. His heart clogged in his throat, not
+at the danger which threatened him, but at the thought of what that
+carriage might contain.
+
+A short time passed, during which nothing was heard but the striking
+of galloping hoofs and the rumble of the carriage. Maurice soon drew
+abreast of von Mitter. There was a gash on the latter's cheek, and the
+blood from it dripped on his cuirass.
+
+"Close for you, my friend," he gasped; when he recognized the new
+arrival. "Have you--God! my leg that time," with a groan.
+
+For the fire of the carriage had spoken again, and true.
+
+Maurice shut his teeth, drew his revolver, cocked it and applied the
+spurs. With a bound he shot past von Mitter, who was cursing deeply and
+trying to reload. Maurice did not propose to waste powder on the driver,
+but was determined to bring down one of the carriage horses, which
+were marvelous brutes for speed. Scharfenstein kept popping away at the
+driver, but without apparent result. Finally Maurice secured the desired
+range. He raised the revolver, rested the barrel between the left thumb
+and forefinger and pressed the trigger. The nearest carriage horse
+lurched to his knees, a bullet in his brain, dragging his mate with him.
+The race had come to an end.
+
+At once the two horsemen in front separated; one continued toward the
+great forest, while the other took to the hills. Scharfenstein started
+in pursuit of the latter. As for the carriage, it came to an abrupt
+stand. The driver made a flying leap toward the lake, but stumbled and
+fell, and before he could regain his feet Maurice was off his horse and
+on his quarry. He caught the fellow by the throat and pressed him to the
+earth, kneeling on his chest.
+
+"Hold him!" cried von Mitter, coming up with a limp, "hold him till I
+knock in his head, damn him!"
+
+"No, no!" said Maurice, "you can't get information out of a dead man."
+
+"It's all up with me," groaned the Lieutenant. "I'll ask for my
+discharge. I could hit nothing, my hand trembled. I was afraid of
+shooting into the carriage."
+
+Maurice turned his attention to the man beneath him. "Now, you devil,"
+he cried, "a clean breast of it, or off the board you go. O!" suddenly
+peering down. "By the Lord, so it is you--you--you!" savagely bumping
+the fellow's head against the earth. "Spy!"
+
+"You are killing me!"
+
+"Small matter. Who is this fellow?" asked Maurice.
+
+"Johann Kopf, a spy, a police rat, and God knows what else," answered
+von Mitter, limping toward the carriage. "Curse the leg!" He forced
+the door and peered inside. "Fainted! I thought as much." He lifted the
+inanimate bundle which lay huddled in between the seats and carried it
+to the side of the road, where he tenderly laid it. He rubbed the girl's
+wrists, unmindful of the blood which fell from his face and left dark
+stains on her dress. "Thank God," heartily, "that her Royal Highness was
+suffering from a headache. She would have died from fright."
+
+Maurice felt the straining cords in the prisoner's neck grow limp. The
+rascal had fainted.
+
+"Not her Highness?" Maurice asked, the weight of dread lifting from his
+heart.
+
+"No. Her Royal Highness sent Camille, her maid of honor, veiled and
+dressed like herself, to play an innocent jest on her old nurse. Some
+one shall account for this; for they mistook Camille for her Highness.
+I'm going to wade out into the water," von Mitter added, staggering to
+his feet.
+
+"You'll never get off your boot," said Maurice.
+
+"I'll cut it off," was the reply, "I shall faint if I do not cool off
+the leg. The ball is somewhere in the calf." And he waded out into the
+water until it reached above his knees. Thus he stood for a moment, then
+returned to the maid, who, on opening her eyes, screamed. "It is all
+over, Camille," said the Lieutenant, throwing an arm about her.
+
+"Your face is bleeding!" she cried, and sank back with her head against
+his broad breast.
+
+As Maurice gazed at the pair he sighed. There were no obstacles here.
+
+Soon Scharfenstein came loping down the hill alone.
+
+"I killed his horse," he said, in response to queries, "but he fled
+into the woods where I could not follow. A bad night for us, Carl, a bad
+night," swinging off his horse. "A boy would have done better work. Whom
+have we here?"
+
+"Kopf," said Maurice, "and he has a ball somewhere inside," holding up a
+bloody hand.
+
+"Kopf?" Scharfenstein cocked his revolver.
+
+The maid of honor placed her hands over her ears and screamed again. Max
+gazed at her, and, with a short, Homeric laugh, lowered the revolver.
+
+"Any time will do," he said. "Ah, he opens his eyes."
+
+The prisoner's eyes rolled wildly about. That frowning face above him...
+was it a vision? Who was it? What was he doing here?
+
+"Who put you up to this?" demanded Maurice.
+
+"You are choking me!"
+
+"Who, I say?"
+
+"Beauvais."
+
+Scharfenstein and von Mitter looked at each other comprehensively.
+
+"Who is this Beauvais? Speak!"
+
+"I am dying, Herr... Your knees--"
+
+Maurice withdrew his knees. "Beauvais; who is he?"
+
+"Prince... Walmoden, formerly of the emperor's staff."
+
+Johann's eyes closed again, and his head fell to one side.
+
+"He looks as if he were done for," said Maurice, standing up. "Let us
+clear up the rubbish and hitch a horse to the carriage. The mate's all
+right."
+
+Von Mitter assisted the maid into the carriage and seated her.
+
+"Go and stay with her," said Maurice, brusquely; "you're half fainting."
+
+"You are very handy, Carewe," said von Mitter gratefully, and he climbed
+in beside the maid, who, her fright gone, gave way to womanly instincts.
+She took her kerchief and wiped the Lieutenant's cheek, pressing his
+hand in hers the while.
+
+Maurice and Scharfenstein worked away at the traces, and dragged the
+dead horse to the side of the road. Scharfenstein brought around von
+Mitter's horse, took oft the furnishings, and backed him into the pole.
+
+Meanwhile the man lying by the water's edge showed signs of returning
+life. He turned his head cautiously. His enemies were a dozen yards away
+from him. Slowly he rolled over on his stomach, thence to his knees.
+They were paying no attention to him....
+
+"Ho, there! the prisoner!" cried von Mitter, tumbling out of the
+carriage. He tried to stand up, but a numbness seized his legs, and he
+sank to a sitting posture.
+
+Maurice and Scharfenstein turned too late. Johann had mounted on
+Scharfenstein's horse, and was flying away down the road. Maurice coolly
+leveled his revolver and sent two bullets after him. The second one
+caused Johann to straighten stiffly, then to sink; but he hung on to the
+horse.
+
+"Hurry!" cried Maurice; "I've hit him and we'll find him along the road
+somewhere."
+
+They lifted von Mitter into the carriage, wheeled it about, and
+Scharfenstein mounted the box. Maurice sprang into his saddle, and they
+clattered off toward the city.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. THE LAST STAND OF A BAD SERVANT
+
+The cuirassiers stationed in the guardroom of the royal palace walked
+gently on the tiling, when occasion required them to walk, and when they
+entered or left the room, they were particularly careful to avoid
+the chink of the spur or the clank of the saber. Although the royal
+bedchamber was many doors removed, the Captain had issued a warning
+against any unnecessary noise. A loud laugh, or the falling of a saber
+carelessly rested, drew upon the unlucky offender the scowling eyes of
+the commander, who reclined in front of the medieval fireplace, in
+which a solitary log burned, and brooded over past and present. The high
+revels in the guardroom were no more, the cuirassiers were no longer
+made up of the young nobles of the kingdom; they were now merely watch
+dogs.
+
+Twenty years ago the commander had come from Dresden as an instructor in
+arms, and after the first year had watched over the royal household, in
+the service of the late king and the king who lay dying. He had come of
+good family, but others had come off better, and had carried off court
+honors, though his post in early days had been envied by many. He was
+above all else a soldier, the embodiment of patience and integrity, and
+he scorned to murmur because fortune had passed over his head. As he
+sucked at his pipe, he recalled the days of Albrecht and his opera
+singers, the court scandals, and his own constant employment as
+messenger in the king's love intrigues.
+
+Albrecht had died a widower and childless, and with him had died the
+flower of court life. The courtiers and sycophants had flocked to the
+standard of the duke, and had remained there, primarily because Leopold
+of Osia promised a sedate and exemplary life. Sometimes the Captain
+shook his head, as if communing with some unpleasant thought. On each
+side of him sat a soldier, also smoking and ruminating.
+
+At the mess table a dozen or so whiled away the time at cards. The
+wavering lights of the candle and hearth cast warring shadows on the
+wall and floor, and the gun and saber racks twinkled. If the players
+spoke, it was in tones inaudible to the Captain's ears.
+
+"Our bread and butter," said the Captain softly, "are likely to take
+unto themselves the proverbial wings and fly away."
+
+No one replied. The Captain was a man who frequently spoke his thoughts
+aloud, and required no one to reply to his disjointed utterances.
+
+"A soldier of fortune," he went on, "pins his faith and zeal to
+standards which to-day rise and to-morrow fall. Unfortunately, he takes
+it at flood tide, which immediately begins to ebb."
+
+The men on either side of him nodded wisely.
+
+"The king can no longer speak. That is why the archbishop has dismissed
+the cabinet. While he could speak, his Majesty refused to listen to the
+downfall of his enemies. Why? Look to heaven; heaven only can answer.
+How many men of the native troops are quartered in these buildings? Not
+one--which is bad. Formerly they were in the majority. Extraordinary.
+His Majesty would have made friends with them, but the archbishop, an
+estimable man in his robes, practically ostracized them. Bad, very bad.
+Had we been comrades, there might be a different end.
+
+"Faugh! if one of us sticks his head into the city barracks a breath
+of ice is our reward. Kronau never attends the receptions. A little
+flattery, which costs nothing, and they would have been willing to die
+for his Majesty. Now--" He knocked his pipe on the firedog. "Now,
+they would not lift a finger. A soldier will forgive all things but
+premeditated neglect.
+
+"As for me, when the time comes I shall return to Dresden and die of old
+age. Maybe, though, I shan't. When his Majesty dies there is like to be
+a clash. The duchess is a clever woman, but she would make a balky wife;
+a capillary affection which runs in the family. Red hair in a man
+is useful; in a woman it is unmanageable." He refilled his pipe and
+motioned toward the tongs. The soldier nearest caught up a brand and
+held it out. The Captain laid his pipe against it and drew. "It's
+a dreary watch I have from ten till daylight, in his Majesty's
+antechamber, but he will trust no other man at that post." And with this
+he fell into silence.
+
+Some time passed. Twice the Captain pulled out his watch and looked at
+it. Shortly after nine o'clock the beat of hoofs came up the driveway,
+and the Captain turned his head toward the entrance and waited. A moment
+later the door opened and three men stood framed in the doorway. Two of
+them--one in civilian dress--were endeavoring to hold up a third between
+them. The central figure presented an alarming picture. His cuirass and
+white trousers were splashed with blood, and his head rolled from side
+to side, almost insensibly.
+
+"A thousand devils!" exclaimed the Captain at the sight of this
+unexpected tableau. He sprang up, toppling over his chair. "What's this?
+Von Mitter? Blood? Have those damned students--"
+
+"A brush on the lake road," interrupted Sharfenstein, breathlessly.
+"Help him over to a chair, Monsieur Carewe. That's it."
+
+"Have you a knife, Captain?" asked Maurice.
+
+The Captain whipped out his knife, locked it, and gave it to Maurice.
+"Riemer," he called to one of the cuirassiers, who were rising from the
+mess table, "bring out your box of instruments; and you, Scharfenstein,
+a basin of cold water. Quick!"
+
+Maurice knelt and deftly cut away the Lieutenant's boot. A pool of blood
+collected on the floor.
+
+"God save us!" cried the Captain, "his boot is full of blood." He
+turned to Scharfenstein, who was approaching with the basin. "What has
+happened, Max?"
+
+Scharfenstein briefly explained.
+
+"And Kopf?"
+
+"Got away, curse him!"
+
+"And the others?" with a lowering brow.
+
+"They all got away," adding an oath under his breath. Max set the basin
+on the floor.
+
+"Bad, very bad. Why didn't you shoot?"
+
+"He was afraid of hitting Mademoiselle Bachelier," Maurice interposed.
+
+Max threw him a grateful look.
+
+"Humph!" The Captain called his men around him. "Two of you--. But wait.
+Who's back of Kopf?"
+
+"Our distinguished Colonel," snapped Max, "who was this day relieved of
+his straps. A case of revenge, probably."
+
+"Beauvais! Ah, ah!" The Captain smiled grimly. He had always hated
+Beauvais, who had, for no obvious reason, passed him and grasped the
+coveted colonelcy, and because, curiously enough, the native troops had
+made an idol of him. "Beauvais? I am not surprised. An adventurer, with
+neither kith nor country."
+
+"He is Prince Walmoden," said Maurice, "and for some reason not known,
+the emperor has promised to recall him."
+
+This information caused the Captain to step back, and he muttered the
+name several times. "Austria...." A gloom settled on his face. "No
+matter. Prince or no prince, or had he one thousand emperors behind him,
+no matter. Four of you seek him and arrest him. If he offers resistance,
+knock him on the head, but arrest him. A traitor is without name,
+country or respect. His purpose... Never mind.
+
+"Four of you seek for Kopf. Look into Stuler's, in at the opera, and
+follow Kopf's woman home. I'll take it upon myself to telegraph the
+frontier to allow no one to cross on the pain of being shot. Pass the
+word to the officers in the stables. Hurry away before the archbishop
+hears of the matter. Away with you, and quietly. And one of you seek
+that blockhead of a coachman, who did not know enough to come back here
+and inform us. Beauvais, make him a prisoner, you are not to know
+why. As for Kopf, dead or alive--alive will be less convenient for all
+concerned. Off with you!"
+
+The guardroom was at once emptied, and the cuirassiers turned off toward
+the stables, where the main body of the troops was stationed.
+
+Riemer, who was both surgeon and soldier, probed the wound in von
+Miner's leg and extracted the bullet, which had lodged in the fleshy
+part of the calf. He applied cold water, lints and bandages. All the
+while von Mitter sat in the chair, his eyes shut and his lips closed
+tightly.
+
+"There!" said the surgeon, standing up, "that's better. The loss of
+blood is the worst part of it." Next he took a few stitches in the cut
+on the cheek and threw his cloak over the wounded man's knee. "He'll be
+all right in a day or so, though he'll limp. Carl?"
+
+"O, I'm sound enough," answered von Mitter, opening his eyes. "A little
+weak in the knees, that's all. I shouldn't have given in, only Kopf got
+away when we had him fair and fast. We found his horse wandering about
+the Frohngarten, but no sign of Johann. He's got it, though, square in
+the back."
+
+"I'm sure of it," said Maurice, who leaned over the back of the
+speaker's chair.
+
+The Captain eyed him inquiringly.
+
+"Pardon me," said Scharfenstein. "Captain, Monsieur Carewe, an American
+tourist, formerly of the United States cavalry. And a pretty shot, too,
+by the book! It would have gone badly with us but for him."
+
+"My thanks," said the Captain, with a jerky nod. "Max, come, give me the
+whole story."
+
+And Scharfenstein dropped into a chair and recounted in picturesque
+diction the adventure; how they had remained by the royal carriage till
+the nurse, recovering from her faint, had rushed out and told them of
+the abduction; and the long race on the south shore. While he listened
+the Captain smoked thoughtfully; and when the story was done, he rose
+and wagged his head.
+
+"Call it revenge," he said, "if it strikes you in that light. Monsieur
+Carewe, what is your opinion?"
+
+"It occurs to me," answered Maurice, rubbing the scratch the late
+Colonel's sword had left on his chin, "it occurs to me that the man
+played his hand a few days too late."
+
+"Which is to say?"
+
+"Well, I do not call it revenge," Maurice admitted, unwilling to venture
+any theory.
+
+"No more do I;" and the Captain began drumming on the mantel. "What say,
+Max; how would the illustrious Colonel look with the shadow of a crown
+on his head? He comes from Austria, who, to my thinking, is cognizant of
+all he does and has done."
+
+The answer was not spoken. The door, leading to the main palace through
+the kitchens, opened, and the Marshal, the princess, and the maid of
+honor came down the steps. The Captain, Max and the surgeon stood at
+salute. Maurice, however, drew back into the shadows at the side of
+the grate. The old soldier gazed down at the pale face of the young
+Lieutenant, and smiled kindly.
+
+"Even the best of soldiers make mistakes," he said; "even the best. No,"
+as von Mitter made an attempt to speak. "I've heard all about it, and
+from a most reliable source," nodding toward the anxious maid of
+honor. "Colonel," he addressed the Captain, whose eyes started at this
+appellation, "Colonel, you will report to me in the morning to assume
+your new duties. You have been a faithful Captain and a good soldier. I
+know your value, your name and your antecedents, which till now was more
+than I knew of your late predecessor. Von Mitter will take upon himself
+your duties as Captain of the household troop; and you, Scharfenstein,
+will hereafter take charge of her Royal Highness's carriage, and you may
+choose whom you will as your comrade."
+
+"I have always tried to do my duty," said von Mitter. He felt a small
+hand secretly press his.
+
+"And you have always succeeded, Captain," said a voice which made
+Maurice's foolish heart leap. "See, I am the first to give you your new
+rank. How you must suffer!"
+
+"God bless your Royal Highness!" murmured the fellow, at once racked
+with pain and happiness. "But I am not the one you must thank for this
+night's work."
+
+The Marshal peered at the silent figure beyond the fireplace. Maurice
+was compelled to stand forth. "Ah!" said the Marshal.
+
+"Yes," went on von Mitter, "but for him no one knows what the end might
+have been. And I, thinking him one of the abducting party coming up from
+the rear, shot at him."
+
+The princess took a step forward, anxiety widening her dark eyes; and
+the swift glance added to the fever in the recipient's veins.... How
+beautiful she was, and how far away! He laid his hand on the top of von
+Mitter's chair.
+
+"Monsieur Carewe," said the Marshal, "seems to have plenty of leisure
+time on his hands--fortunately for us. You were not hit?"
+
+"O, no," said Maurice, blushing. He had discerned an undercurrent of
+raillery in the Marshal's tones. "The ball came close to my ear, that
+was all. It is strange how that fellow got away. I am positive that I
+hit him."
+
+"We shall find him," said the Marshal, with a look at the
+newly-appointed Colonel which said: "Your straps hang in the balance."
+He rubbed his nose. "Well, is your Royal Highness satisfied that there
+is no danger?"
+
+"Yes, Marshal; but think, if he should have been killed! Ah, what does
+it all mean? What had this man against me, who have always been kind to
+him?"
+
+"We shall, with your Highness's permission," said the Marshal, "leave
+all questions to the future. Let us return to the archbishop, who
+is doubtless awaiting the news. Take good care of yourself, Captain.
+To-morrow, Colonel; good evening to you, Monsieur Carewe;" and the terse
+old soldier proceeded to the door and held it open for the women.
+
+"Good night, Messieurs," said her Highness. "I shall not forget. Thanks
+to you, Captain." One more glance, and she was gone. But this glance
+blossomed in one heart into a flower of hope.
+
+The Marshal, having closed the door behind the women, returned to the
+group before the fireplace. They watched him interestedly.
+
+"Colonel," he said, "make no effort to seek Beauvais. As for Kopf, that
+is different. But Beauvais--"
+
+"To let him go?" exclaimed the Colonel in dismay.
+
+"Aye, to let him go. We do not seek bears with birdshot, and that is all
+we have. He will leave the country."
+
+"And go to the duchy!"
+
+"So much the better; when the time comes, our case against him will
+be so much the stronger. Mind you, this is not from sentiment. I have
+none," glaring around to see if any dared refute this assertion. "It is
+policy, and Monseigneur concurs with me."
+
+"But I have sent men after him!" cried the Colonel, in keen
+disappointment.
+
+"Send men after them to rescind the order."
+
+"And if they should catch him?"
+
+"Let him go; that is my order. The servant will be sufficient for our
+needs. Monsieur Carewe, I rely on your discretion;" and the Marshal
+passed into the kitchens.
+
+The men looked at each other in silence. A moment later the Colonel
+dashed from the room, off to the stables.
+
+"Well, I'm off," said Maurice. The desire to tell what he knew was
+beginning to master him. It was too late now, he saw that. Besides, they
+might take it into their heads to detain him. He put on his hat. "Good
+night; and good luck to your leg, Captain."
+
+"Till to-morrow," said von Mitter, who had taken a fancy to the
+smooth-faced young American, who seemed at home in all places.
+
+"I am going away to-morrow," said Maurice, pressing the Lieutenant's
+hand. "I shall return in a day or so."
+
+He led his horse to the hotel stables, lit a fresh cigar and promenaded
+the terrace. "Some day," he mused, "perhaps I'll be able to do something
+for myself. To-morrow we'll take a look at Fitzgerald's affairs, like
+the good fairy we are. If the Colonel is there, so much the worse for
+one or the other of us." He laughed contentedly. "Beauvais took my
+warning and lit out, or his henchman would never have made a botch of
+the abduction. It is my opinion that Madame wanted a hostage, for it
+is impossible to conceive that the man made the attempt on his own
+responsibility. I shall return to the duchy in a semi-official character
+as an envoy extraordinary to look into the whereabouts of one Lord
+Fitzgerald. Devil take me, but I did make a mess of it when I slapped
+him on the shoulder that night." The princess had not addressed a word
+to him. Why?
+
+When the princess and her maid of honor had passed through the kitchens
+into the princess's boudoir, the maid suddenly caught her mistress's
+hand and imprinted a hasty kiss on it, to the latter's surprise and
+agitation. There was something in that kiss which came nearer to sincere
+affection than Mademoiselle Bachelier had ever shown before.
+
+"Camille?"
+
+"God bless your Highness!" whispered the girl, again pressing the cold
+hand to her lips. What had given rise to this new-born affection she
+herself could not say, but a sudden wave of pity rushed into her
+heart. Perhaps it was because she loved and was loved that caused this
+expansion of heart toward her mistress, who was likely never to love or
+beget love, who stood so lonely. Tears came into her eyes.
+
+"You are hysterical!" said the princess.
+
+"No; it is because--because--" She stopped and a blush suffused her face
+and temples.
+
+The princess took the face between her hands and gazed long and
+earnestly into it. "Have you discovered a belated pity in your heart
+for me? Or is it because you thought him wounded unto death, and he was
+not?"
+
+"It is both!" weeping.
+
+The princess put her arms around the maid. "And you weep for happiness?
+Let us weep together, then; only--I can not weep for happiness."
+
+To return to the flight of Kopf. As he dashed down the road he heard two
+reports. At the second he experienced a terrible burning blow under
+the right shoulder-blade, and immediately his arm became paralyzed.
+He coughed. With a supreme effort he managed to recover his balance.
+Already his collar-bone had been cracked by a bullet either from von
+Mitter or from Scharfenstein.
+
+"God's curse on them all!" he sobbed, pushing his knees into his horse;
+"God's curse!" He bit his lips; and when he drew his breath the pain
+which followed almost robbed him of his senses. Behind him the sound of
+hoofs came no nearer; he had a chance. He could not look back to see if
+he gained, however, as his neck was stiffening.
+
+"Curse him and his damned gold! He never warned me as he said he would."
+On he rode. The moon became obscured, and when it flashed again he could
+see it but indistinctly.... To reach the city, to reach Gertrude's, to
+give the horse a cut and send him adrift, this was his endeavor. But
+would he reach the city--alive? Was he dying? He could not see... Yet
+again he shut his jaws and drew on his entire strength. He was keeping
+in the saddle by will power alone. If the horse faltered he was lost. To
+Gertrude; she could use them. And after all he loved her. If he died she
+would be provided for.
+
+The first of the city lamps. He sobbed. Into this street he turned,
+into that, expecting each moment to be challenged, for the white saddle
+blanket of the cuirassiers stood out conspicuously. At last he had but
+a corner to turn. He stopped, slid from the saddle and gave the animal
+a cut across the face. The horse reared, then plunged forward at a wild
+gallop. Johann staggered along the street, fumbling in his pockets for
+his keys.
+
+Gertrude of the opera company was usually in the ballet. To-night she
+had left the stage after the first dance. She had complained of a
+severe headache, and as the manager knew her worth he had permitted
+her withdrawal from the corps. She lived off the Frohngarten, in an
+apartment on the second floor, over a cheap restaurant. She was bathing
+her temples in perfumed ammonia water, when she heard footsteps in the
+corridor, and later the rasp of a key in the lock. As the door opened
+she beheld a spectacle which caused her to scream.
+
+"Hush! Gertrude, I am dying.... Brandy! I must talk to you! Silence!"
+Johann tottered to a lounge and dropped on his side.
+
+The woman, still trembling with fright and terror, poured into her palm
+some of the pungent liquid with which she had been bathing her temples,
+and held it under his nose. It revived him. And in a few broken
+sentences he made known to her what had happened.
+
+"Gertrude, I am lost!" He breathed with difficulty. "I have lived like
+a rascal, and I die like one. But I have always loved you; I have always
+been true to you; I have never beaten nor robbed you." His eyes closed.
+
+"O God," she cried, "what shall I do? Johann, you must not die! We
+will leave the country together. Johann, you do not speak! Johann!"
+She kissed him, pressed him in her arms, regardless of the stains which
+these frantic fondlings gathered from his breast. "Johann!"
+
+"Rich," he said dreamily; "rich... and to die like a dog!"
+
+She left him and rushed to the sideboard, poured out a tumbler of
+brandy, and returned to his side. She raised his head, but he swallowed
+with effort.
+
+"In the lungs," he said. "God! how it burns! Rich; we are rich,
+Gertrude; a hundred thousand crowns.... And I am dying!... What a
+failure! Curse them all; they never offered to lend a hand unless it led
+toward hell! Gertrude... I must tell you. Here; here, put your hand in
+this pocket; yes. Draw them out... A hundred thousand crowns!"
+
+The woman shuddered. Her hand and what it held were wet with blood.
+
+"Hide them!" And Johann fainted away for the second time. When he came
+to his senses, several minutes had passed. Quickly, with what remaining
+strength he had, he unfolded his plan.
+
+And her one idea was to save him. She drenched her handkerchief with the
+ammonia, and bade him hold it to his nose, while she fetched a basin of
+water and a sponge. Tenderly she drew back his coat and washed the blood
+from his throat and lips, and moistened his hair.
+
+"Listen!" he cried suddenly, rising on his elbow. "It is they! They
+have found me! Quick! to the roof!" He struggled to his feet, with that
+strength which imparts itself to dying men, super-human while it lasts.
+He threw one arm around her neck. "Help me!"
+
+And thus they gained the hall, mounted the flight to the roof, he
+groaning and urging, she sobbing, hysterical, and frenzied. She climbed
+the ladder with him, threw back the trap, and helped him on the roof.
+
+"Now leave me!" he said, kissing her hand.
+
+She gave him her lips, and went down to her rooms, and waited and
+waited. This agony of suspense lasted a quarter of an hour, when again
+came the clatter of hoofs. Would this, too, prove a false alarm? She
+held her hand to her ear. If he were dying... They had stopped; they
+were mounting the stairs; O God, they were beating on the door!
+
+"Open!" cried a voice without; "open in the king's name!"
+
+She gasped, but words would not come. She clenched her hands until the
+nails sank into the flesh.
+
+"Open, Madame, or down comes the door."
+
+The actress in her came to the rescue. The calm of despair took
+possession of her.
+
+"In a moment, Messieurs," she said. Her voice was without agitation. She
+opened the door and the cuirassiers pushed past her. "In heaven's name,
+Messieurs, what does this mean?"
+
+"We want Johann Kopf," was the answer, "and we have it from good
+authority that he is here. Do not interfere with us; you are in no wise
+connected with the affair."
+
+"He is not here," she replied. She wondered at herself, her tones were
+so even, her mind was so clear.
+
+One of the cuirassiers caught up her gown. "What's this, Madame?" he
+demanded, pointing to the dark wet stains; "and this?" to her hands,
+"and this?" to the spots on the carpet, the basin and the sponge. "To
+the roof, men; he has gone by the roof! Up with you!"
+
+The ballet dancer held forth her hands in supplication; life forsook her
+limbs; she sank.
+
+The cuirassiers rushed to the roof.... When they came down it was slowly
+and carefully. What they had found on the roof was of no use to them.
+They laid the inanimate thing on the lounge, and frowned. One of the
+cuirassiers lifted the ballet dancer and carried her into her bed-room,
+and laid her on the bed. He had not the heart to revive her. Death
+softens all angers; even an enemy is no longer such when dead. And
+Johann Kopf was dead.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. A COURT FETE AT THE RED CHATEAU
+
+At eight o'clock of the following evening, that is to say, the
+nineteenth of September, Maurice mounted the Thalian pass and left the
+kingdom in the valley behind him. He was weary, dusty, lame and out of
+humor; besides, he had a new weight on his conscience. The night before
+he had taken the life of a man. True, this had happened before, but
+always in warfare. He had killed in a moment of rage and chagrin a
+poor devil who was at most only a puppet. There was small credit in the
+performance. However, the rascal would have suffered death in any event,
+his act being one of high treason.
+
+In the long ride he had made up his mind to lock away forever the silly
+dream, the tender, futile, silly dream. All men die with secrets locked
+in their hearts; thus he, too, would die. His fancy leaped across the
+chasm of intervening years to the day of his death, and the thought
+was a happy one! He smiled sadly, as young men smile when they pity
+themselves. He knew that he would never get over it--in a day. But
+to-morrow, or to-morrow's to-morrow..
+
+He took the pass's decline; the duchy spread away toward the south. A
+quarter of a mile below him he saw the barrack and the customs office
+which belonged to Madame the duchess. The corporal inspected him and
+his papers, spoke lowly to the customs inspector, who returned to his
+office.
+
+"It is all right, Monsieur Carewe," said the corporal; "I ought to
+recognize the horse a mile away. You will arrive just in time."
+
+"Just in time for what?"
+
+"Ah, true. Her Highness gives a grand ball at the chateau to-night. The
+court has arrived from Brunnstadt. Some will reside at the chateau, some
+at General Duckwitz's, others at the Countess Herzberg's."
+
+"Has the duchess arrived at last, then?" was the cynical inquiry.
+
+"She will arrive this evening," answered the corporal, grinning. "A
+pleasant journey to you."
+
+Maurice proceeded. "And that blockhead of an Englishman has not tumbled
+yet! The court here? A grand ball? What else can it mean but that Madame
+is celebrating a victory to come? If the archbishop has those consols,
+she will wage war; and this is the prelude." He jogged along. He had
+accomplished a third of the remaining distance, when he was challenged.
+The sentry came forward and scrutinized the rider.
+
+"O, it is Monsieur Carewe!" he cried in delighted tones. He touched his
+cap and fell back into the shadows.
+
+A mile farther, and the great chateau, scintillating with lights, loomed
+up against the yellow sky. He felt a thrill of excitement. Doubtless
+there would be some bright passages before the night drew to a close. He
+would make furious love to the pretty countess; it would be something in
+the way of relaxation. How would they greet him? What would be Madame's
+future plans in regard to Fitzgerald? How would she get him out of the
+way, now that he had served her purpose? He laughed.
+
+"The future promises much," he said, half aloud. "I am really glad that
+I came back."
+
+"Halt!"
+
+Maurice drew up. A sentry stepped out into the road.
+
+"O, it is Monsieur Carewe!" he cried. With a short laugh he disappeared.
+
+"Hang me," grumbled Maurice as he went on, "these fellows have
+remarkable memories. I can't recollect any of them." He was mystified.
+
+Shortly he came upon the patrol. The leader ordered him to dismount, an
+order be obeyed willingly, for he was longing to stand again. He shook
+his legs, while the leader struck a match.
+
+"Why, it is Monsieur Carewe!" he cried. "Good! We are coming out to meet
+you. This is a pleasure indeed."
+
+Maurice gazed keenly into the speaker's face, and to his surprise beheld
+the baron whose arm he had broken a fortnight since. He climbed on his
+horse again.
+
+"I am glad you deem it a pleasure, baron," he said dryly. "From what you
+imply, I should judge that you were expecting me."
+
+"Nothing less! Your departure from Bleiberg was known to us as early as
+two o'clock this after-noon," answered the baron. "Permit us to escort
+you to the chateau before the ladies see you. 'Tis a gala night; we are
+all in our best bib and tucker, as the English say. We believed at one
+time that you were not going to honor us with a second visit. Now
+to dress, both of us; at ten Madame the duchess arrives with General
+Duckwitz and Colonel Mollendorf, who is no relation to the late minister
+of police in Bleiberg."
+
+Underneath all this Maurice discerned a shade of mockery, and it
+disturbed him.
+
+"First, I should like to know--" he began.
+
+"Later, later!" cried the baron. "The gates are but a dozen rods away.
+To your room first; the rest will follow."
+
+"The only clothes I have with me are on my back," said Maurice.
+
+"We shall arrange that. Your guard-hussar uniform has been reserved for
+you, at the suggestion of the Colonel."
+
+And Maurice grew more and more disturbed.
+
+"Were they courteous to you on the road?"
+
+"Yes. But--"
+
+"Patience! Here we are at the rear gates."
+
+Maurice found it impossible to draw back; three troopers blocked the
+rear, the baron and another rode at his sides, and four more were in
+advance. The rear gates swung open, and the little troop passed into
+the chateau confines. Maurice snatched a glimpse of the front lawns
+and terraces. The trees and walls were hung with Chinese lanterns;
+gay uniforms and shimmering gowns flitted across his vision. Somewhere
+within the chateau an orchestra was playing the overture from "Linda
+di Chamounix." Indeed, with all these brave officers, old men in black
+bedecked with ribbons, handsome women in a brilliant sparkle of jewels,
+it had the semblance of a gay court. It was altogether a different scene
+from that which was called the court of Bleiberg. There was no restraint
+here; all was laughter, music, dancing, and wines. The women were young,
+the men were young; old age stood at one side and looked on. And the
+charming Voiture-verse of a countess, Maurice was determined to seek
+her first of all. He vaguely wondered how Fitzgerald would carry himself
+throughout the ordeal.
+
+The troopers dismounted in the courtyard.
+
+"I'm a trifle too stiff to dance," Maurice innocently acknowledged.
+
+The baron laughed. "You will have to take luck with me in the
+stable-barrack; the chateau is filled. The armory has been turned into a
+ballroom, and the guard out of it."
+
+"Lead on!" said Maurice.
+
+At the entrance to the guardroom, which occupied the left wing of the
+stables, stood a Lieutenant of the hussars.
+
+"This is Monsieur Carewe," said the baron, "who will occupy a corner in
+the guardroom."
+
+"Ah! Monsieur Carewe," waving his hand cavalierly; "happy to see you
+again."
+
+Maurice was growing weary of his name.
+
+"Enter," said the baron, opening the door.
+
+Maurice entered, but not without suspicion. However, he was in a hurry
+to mingle with the gay assembly in the chateau. But that body was doomed
+to proceed without the honor or the knowledge of his distinguished
+presence. Several troopers were lounging about. At the sight of the
+baron they rose.
+
+"Messieurs," he said, "this is Monsieur Carewe, who was expected."
+
+"Glad to see you!" they sang out in chorus. They bowed ironically.
+
+Maurice gazed toward the door. As he did so four pairs of arms enveloped
+him, and before he could offer the slightest resistance, he was bound
+hand and foot, a scarf was tied over his mouth, and he was pushed most
+disrespectfully into a chair. The baron's mouth was twisted out of
+shape, and the troopers were smiling.
+
+"My faith! but this is the drollest affair I ever was in;" and the baron
+sat on the edge of the table and held his sides. "Monsieur Carewe! Ha!
+ha! You are a little too stiff to dance, eh? Shall I tender your excuses
+to the ladies? Ass! did you dream for a moment that such canaille as
+you, might show your countenance to any save the scullery maids? Too
+stiff to dance! Ye gods, but that was rich! And you had the audacity
+to return here! I must go; the thing is killing me." He slipped off the
+table, red in the face and choking. "The telegraph has its uses; it came
+ahead of you. We trembled for fear you would not come! Men, guard him
+as your lives, while I report to Madame, I dare say she will make it
+droller in the telling."
+
+He stepped to the door, turned, looking into the prisoner's glaring
+eyes; he doubled up again. "We are quits; I forgive you the broken
+arm; this laugh will repay me. How Madame the countess will laugh! And
+Duckwitz--the General will die of apoplexy! O, but you are a sorry ass;
+and how neatly we have clipped your ears!" And into the corridor he
+went, still laughing, heartily and joyously, as if what had taken place
+was one of the finest jests in the world.
+
+Maurice, white and furious, was positive that he never would laugh
+again. And the most painful thought was that his honesty had brought him
+to this pass--or, was it his curiosity?
+
+* * * * *
+
+Fitzgerald stood alone in the library. The music of a Strauss waltz came
+indistinctly to him. He was troubled, and the speech of it lay in his
+eyes. From time to time he drummed on the window sill, and followed with
+his gaze the shadowy forms on the lawns. He was not a part of this fairy
+scene. He was out of place. So many young and beautiful women eyeing him
+curiously confused him. In every glance he innocently read his disgrace.
+
+At Madame's request he had dressed himself in the uniform of a
+Lieutenant-Colonel, which showed how deeply he was in the toils.
+Though it emphasized the elegant proportions of his figure, it sat
+uncomfortably upon him. His vanity was not equal to his sense of guilt.
+The uniform was a livery of dishonor. He could not distort it into a
+virtue, try as he would. He lacked that cunning artifice which a man of
+the world possesses, that of winning over to the right a misdeed.
+
+And Carewe, on whose honesty he would have staked his life, Carewe had
+betrayed him. Why, he could not conceive. He saw how frail his house
+of love was. A breath and it was gone. What he had until to-day deemed
+special favors were favors common to all these military dandies. They,
+too, could kiss Madame's hand, and he could do no more. And yet she held
+him. Did she love him? He could not tell. All he knew was that it was
+impossible not to love her. And to-night he witnessed the culmination
+of the woman beautiful, and it dazzled him, filled him with fears and
+oppressions.... To bind her hand and foot, to carry her by force to the
+altar, if need; to call her his in spite of all.
+
+If she were playing with him, making a ball of his heart and her fancy
+a cup, she knew not of the slumbering lion within. He himself was but
+dimly conscious of it. Princess? That did not matter. Since that morning
+the veil had fallen from his eyes, but he had said nothing; he was
+waiting for her to speak. Would she laugh at him? No, no! The knowledge
+that had come to him had transformed wax into iron. Princess? She was
+the woman who had promised to be his wife.
+
+Only two candles burned on the mantel-piece. The library was a room
+apart from the festivities. A soft, rose-colored darkness pervaded the
+room. Presently a darker shadow tiptoed over the threshold. He turned,
+and the shadow approached. Madame's gray eyes, full of lambent fires,
+looked into his own.
+
+"I was seeking you," she said. The jewels in her hair threw a kind of
+halo above her head.
+
+"Have I the happiness to be necessary to you?" he asked.
+
+"You have not been enjoying yourself."
+
+"No, Madame; my conscience is, unhappily, too green." He turned to the
+window again for fear he would lose control of himself.
+
+"I have a confession to make to you," she said humbly. How broad his
+shoulders were, was her thought.
+
+"It can not concern me," he replied.
+
+"How?"
+
+"There is only one confession which I care to hear. You made it once,
+though you are not willing to repeat it. But I have your word, Sylvia;
+I am content. Not all the world could make me believe that you would
+willingly retract that word."
+
+Her name, for the first time coming from his lips, caused her to start.
+She sent him a penetrating glance, but it broke on a face immobile as
+marble.
+
+"I do not recollect granting you permission to use my given name," she
+said.
+
+"O, that was before the world. But alone, alone as we are, you and I,
+it is different." The smile which accompanied these words was frankness
+itself, but it did not deceive Madame, who read his eyes too well. "Ah,
+but the crumbs you give this love of mine are so few!" "You are the only
+man in the world permitted to avow love to me. You have kissed my hand."
+
+"A privilege which seems extended to all."
+
+Madame colored, but there was not light enough for him to perceive it.
+
+"The hand you kissed is the hand of the woman; others kiss it to pay
+homage. Monsieur, forgive me for having deceived you, you were so easy
+to deceive." His eyes met hers steadily.
+
+"I am not Madame simply. I am Stephonia Sylvia Auersperg; the name I
+assumed was my mother's." His lack of surprise alarmed her.
+
+"I am well aware of that," he said. "You are the duchess."
+
+Something in his tone warned her of a crisis, and she put forth her
+cunning to avert it. "And, you--you will not love me less?" her voice
+vibrant as the string of a viol. "I am a princess, but yet a woman. In
+me there are two, the woman and the princess. The princess is proud and
+ambitious; to gain her ends she stops at nothing. As a princess she may
+stoop to trickery and deceit, and step back untouched. But the woman-ah,
+well; for this fortnight I have been most of all the woman."
+
+"And all this to me-is a preamble to my dismissal, since my promise
+remains unfulfilled? Madame, do not think that because fate has willed
+that my promise should become void, that my conscience acquits me of
+dishonor. For love of you I have thrown honor to the winds. But do I
+regret it? No. For I am mad, and being mad, I am not capable of reason.
+I have broken all those ties which bind a man's respect to himself.
+I have burned all bridges, but I laugh at that. It is only with the
+knowledge that your love is mine that I can hold high my head.
+
+"As the princess in you is proud, so is the man in me. A princess? That
+is nothing; I love you. Were you the empress of all the Russias, the
+most unapproachable woman in the world, I should not hesitate to profess
+my love, to find some means of declaring it to you. I love you. To what
+further depths can I fall to prove it?" Again he sought the window, and
+leaned heavily on the sill. He waited, as a man waits for an expected
+blow.
+
+As she listened a delicious sensation swept through her heart, a
+sensation elusive and intangible. She surrendered without question. At
+this moment the Eve in her evaded all questions. Here was a man. The
+mood which seized her was as novel as this love which asked nothing but
+love, and the willingness to pay any price; and the desire to test both
+mood and love to their full strength was irresistible. She was loved for
+herself alone; hitherto men had loved the woman less and the princess
+more. To surrender to both mood and love, if only for an hour or a day,
+to see to what length this man would go at a sign from her.
+
+He was almost her equal in birth; his house was nearly if not quite as
+old and honored as her own; in his world he stood as high as she stood
+in hers. She had never committed an indiscretion; passion had never
+swayed her; until now she had lived by calculation. As she looked at
+him, she knew that in all her wide demesne no soldier could stand before
+him and look straight into his eyes. So deep and honest a book it was,
+so easily readable, that she must turn to its final pages. Love him? No.
+Be his wife? No. She recognized that it was the feline instinct to play
+which dominated her. Consequences? Therein lay the charm of it.
+
+"Patience, Monsieur," she said. "Did I promise to be your wife? Did
+I say that I loved you? _Eh, bien_, the woman, not the princess, made
+those vows. I am mistress not only of my duchy, but of my heart." She
+ceased and regarded him with watchful eyes. He did not turn. "Look at
+me, John!" The voice was of such winning sweetness that St. Anthony
+himself, had he heard it, must have turned. "Look at me and see if I am
+more a princess than a woman."
+
+He wheeled swiftly. She was leaning toward him, her face was upturned.
+No jewel in her hair was half so lustrous as her eyes. From the threaded
+ruddy ore of her hair rose a perfume like the fabulous myrrhs of
+Olympus. Her lips were a cup of wine, and her eyes bade him drink,
+and the taste of that wine haunted him as long as he lived. He made as
+though to drain the cup, but Madame pushed down his arms, uttered a low,
+puzzled laugh, and vanished from the room. He was lost! He knew it; yet
+he did not care. He threw out his arms, dropped them, and settled his
+shoulders. A smile, a warm, contented smile, came into his face and
+dwelt there. For another such kiss he would have bartered eternity.
+
+And Madame? Who can say?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. IN WHICH MAURICE RECURS TO OFFENBACH
+
+Midnight; the music had ceased, and the yellow and scarlet lanterns had
+been plucked from the autumnal hangings. The laughing, smiling, dancing
+women, like so many Cinderellas, had disappeared, and with them the
+sparkle of jewels; and the gallant officers had ridden away to the
+jingle of bit and spur. Throughout the courtly revel all faces had
+revealed, besides the happiness and lightness of spirit, a suppressed
+eagerness for something yet to come, an event surpassing any they had
+yet known.
+
+Promptly at midnight Madame herself had dropped the curtains on the gay
+scene because she had urgent need of all her military household at dawn,
+when a picture, far different from that which had just been painted, was
+to be limned on the broad canvas of her dreams. Darkness and quiet had
+fallen on the castle, and the gray moon film lay on terrace and turret
+and tile.
+
+In the guardroom, Maurice, his hands and feet still in pressing cords,
+dozed in his chair. He had ceased to combat drowsiness. He was worn out
+with his long ride, together with the chase of the night before; and
+since a trooper had relieved his mouth of the scarf so that he could
+breathe, he cared not what the future held, if only he might sleep.
+It took him a long time to arrive at the angle of comfort; this
+accomplished, he drifted into smooth waters. The troopers who
+constituted his guard played cards at a long table, in the center of
+which were stuck half a dozen bayonets, which served as candlesticks.
+They laughed loudly, thumped the board, and sometimes sang. No one
+bothered himself about the prisoner, who might have slept till the crack
+of doom, as far as they were concerned.
+
+Shortly before the new hour struck, the door opened and shut. A trooper
+shook the sleeper by the sleeve. Maurice awoke with a start and gazed
+about, blinking his eyes. Before him he discovered Madame the duchess,
+Fitzgerald and Mollendorf, behind whom stood the Voiture-verse of a
+countess. The languor forsook him and he pulled himself together and
+sat as upright as his bonds would permit him. Something interesting was
+about to take place.
+
+Madame made a gesture which the troopers comprehended, and they
+departed. Fitzgerald, with gloomy eyes, folded his arms across his
+breast, and with one hand curled and uncurled the drooping ends of his
+mustache; the Colonel frowned and rubbed the gray bristles on his upper
+lip; the countess twisted and untwisted her handkerchief; Madame alone
+evinced no agitation, unless the perpendicular line above her nose could
+have been a sign of such. This lengthened and deepened as her glance met
+the prisoner's.
+
+He eyed them all with an indifference which was tinctured with contempt
+and amusement.
+
+"Well, Monsieur Carewe," said Madame, coldly, "what have you to say?"
+
+"A number of things, Madame," he answered, in a tone which bordered the
+insolent; "only they would not be quite proper for you to hear."
+
+The Colonel's hand slid from his lip over his mouth; he shuffled his
+feet and stared at the bayonets and the grease spots on the table.
+
+"Carewe," said Fitzgerald, endeavoring to speak calmly, "you have broken
+your word to me as a gentleman and you have lied to me."
+
+The reply was an expressive monosyllable, "O!"
+
+"Do you deny it?" demanded the Englishman.
+
+"Deny what?" asked Maurice.
+
+"The archbishop," said Madame, "assumed the aggressive last night. To be
+aggressive one must possess strength. Monsieur, how much did he pay for
+those consols? Come, tell me; was he liberal? It is evident that you are
+not a man of business. I should have been willing to pay as much as
+a hundred thousand crowns. Come; acknowledge that you have made a bad
+stroke." She bent her head to one side, and a derisive smile lifted the
+corners of her lips.
+
+A dull red flooded the prisoner's cheeks. "I do not understand you."
+
+"You lie!" Fitzgerald stepped closer and his hands closed menacingly.
+
+"Thank you," said Maurice, "thank you. But why not complete the
+melodrama by striking, since you have doubled your fists?"
+
+Fitzgerald glared at him.
+
+"Monsieur," interposed the countess, "do not forget that you are a
+gentleman; Monsieur Carewe's hands are tied."
+
+"Unfortunately," observed Maurice.
+
+Madame looked curiously at the countess, while Fitzgerald drew back to
+the table and rested on it.
+
+"I can not comprehend how you dared return," Madame resumed. "One who
+watches over my affairs has informed me of your dishonorable act."
+
+"What do you call a dishonorable act?" Maurice inquired quietly.
+
+"One who breaks his sacred promise!" quickly.
+
+The prisoner laughed maliciously. Madame had answered the question as he
+hoped she would. "Chickens come home to roost. What do you say to that,
+my lord?" to the Englishman.
+
+This time it was not the prisoner's cheeks which reddened. Even Madame
+was forced to look away, for if this reply touched the Englishman it
+certainly touched her as deeply. Incidentally, she was asking herself
+why she had permitted the Englishman to possess her lips, hers, which no
+man save her father had ever possessed before. A kiss, that was all it
+had been, yet the memory of it was persistent, annoying, embarrassing.
+In the spirit of play--a spirit whose origin mystified her--she had
+given the man something which she never could regain, a particle of her
+pride.
+
+Besides, this was not all; she had in that moment given up her right to
+laugh at him when the time came; now she would not be able to laugh. She
+regretted the folly, and bit her lip at the thought of it. Consequences
+she had laughed at; now their possibilities disturbed her. She had
+been guilty of an indiscretion. The fact that the Englishman had ruined
+himself at her beck did not enter her mind. The hour for that had not
+yet arrived.
+
+Seeing that his neat barb had left them all without answer, Maurice
+said: "Doubtless the informant who watches over your interests and
+various other interests of which you have no inkling, was the late
+Colonel Beauvais? For my part, I wish it was the late Beauvais in the
+sense in which we refer to the departed ones. But let us give him
+his true name--Prince Konrad, the last of the Walmodens, a cashiered
+gamester."
+
+Only Fitzgerald showed any surprise. Maurice once saw that the others
+were in the secret. They knew the Colonel. Did they know why he was
+in Bleiberg? Let them find it out for themselves. He would not lift a
+finger to aid them. He leaned back and yawned.
+
+"Pardon me," he said, with mock politeness, "but my hands are tied, and
+the truth is, I am sleepy."
+
+"Count," said Madame, "release him. He will be too well guarded to fear
+his escaping."
+
+The Colonel performed this service with alacrity. He honestly admired
+the young fellow who so seldom lost his temper. Besides, he had a
+sneaking idea that the lad was being unjustly accused.
+
+Maurice got up and stretched himself. He rubbed his wrists, then sat
+down and waited for the comedy to proceed.
+
+"So you confess," said Madame, "that you sold the consols to the
+archbishop?"
+
+"I, confess?" Maurice screwed up his lips and began to whistle softly:
+
+"Voici le sabre de mon Pere."
+
+"You deny, then?" Madame was fast losing patience, a grave mistake when
+one is dealing with a banterer.
+
+Maurice changed the tune:
+
+"J'aime les militaires, Leur uniforme coquet, Leur moustache et leur
+plumet--"
+
+"Answer!" with a stamp of the foot.
+
+"Je sais ce que je voudrais, Je voudrais etre cantiniere!"...
+
+"Monsieur," said the pretty countess, after a furtive glance at Madame's
+stormy eyes, "do you deny?"
+
+The whistle ceased. "Madame, to you I shall say that I neither deny nor
+affirm. The affair is altogether too ridiculous to treat seriously. I
+have nothing to say." The whistle picked up the thread again.
+
+Doubt began to stir in the eyes of the Englishman. He looked at Madame
+with a kind of indecision, to find that she was glancing covertly at
+him. His gaze finally rested on Maurice, who had crossed his legs and
+was keeping time to the music with his foot. Indeed, these were not the
+violent protestations of innocence he had looked for. This demeanor was
+not at all in accord with his expectations. Now that he had possessed
+Madame's lips (though she might never possess the consols), Maurice did
+not appear so guilty.
+
+"Carewe," he said, "you have deceived me from the start."
+
+"Ah! c'est un fameux regiment, Le regiment de la Grande Duchesse!"
+
+"You knew that Madame was her Highness," went on the Englishman, "and
+yet you kept that a secret from me. Can you blame me if I doubt you in
+other respects?"
+
+"Sonnez donc la trompette, Et battez les tambours!"
+
+And the warbler nodded significantly at Madame, whose frown grew still
+darker.
+
+"Eh! Monsieur," cried the Colonel, with a protesting hand, "you are out
+of tune!"
+
+"I should like to know why you returned here," said Madame. "Either you
+have some plan, or your audacity has no bounds."
+
+The whistle stopped again. "Madame, for once we agree. I, too, should
+like to know why I returned here."
+
+"Carewe," said Fitzgerald, "if you will give me your word--"
+
+"Do not waste your breath, Monsieur," interrupted Madame.
+
+"Will you give me your word?" persisted Fitzgerald, refusing to see the
+warning in Madame's eyes.
+
+"I will give you nothing, my lord; nothing. I have said that I will
+answer neither one way nor the other. The accusation is too absurd. Now,
+Madame, what is your pleasure in regard to my disposition?"
+
+"You are to be locked up, Monsieur," tartly. "You are too inquisitive to
+remain at large."
+
+"My confinement will be of short duration," confidently.
+
+"It rests with my pleasure alone."
+
+"Pardon me if I contradict your Highness. I returned here incidentally
+as a representative of the British ambassador in Vienna; I volunteered
+this office at the request of my own minister."
+
+A shade of consternation came into the faces of his audience.
+
+"If nothing is heard of me within two days, an investigation will ensue.
+It is very droll, but I am here to inquire into the whereabouts of one
+Lord Fitzgerald, who has disappeared. Telegrams to the four ends of
+the world have brought no news of his present residence. The archbishop
+instituted the latter inquiries, because it was urgent and necessary he
+should know."
+
+Fitzgerald became enveloped in gloom.
+
+"And your credentials, Monsieur?" said the duchess. "You have them, I
+presume?"
+
+"I came as a private gentleman; a telegram to my minister in Vienna will
+bring indorsement."
+
+"Ah! Then you shall be locked up. I can not accord you recognition;
+without the essential representations, I see nothing in you but
+an impertinent meddler. To-morrow evening you shall be conveyed to
+Brunnstadt, where you will reside for some time, I can assure you.
+Perhaps on your head will rest the blood of many gallant gentlemen; for
+within another twenty-four hours I shall declare war against Leopold.
+This will be the consequence of your disloyalty to your word." And she
+moved toward the door, the others imitating her. Fitzgerald, more than
+any one else, desired to get away.
+
+And one by one they vanished. Once the countess turned and threw
+Maurice a glance which mystified him; it was half curtained with tears.
+Presently he was alone. His eye grasped every object. There was not a
+weapon in sight; only the bayonets on the table, and he could scarcely
+hope to escape by use of one of these. A carafe of water stood on the
+table. He went to it and half emptied it. His back was toward the door.
+Suddenly it opened. He wheeled, expecting to see the troopers. His
+surprise was great. Beauvais was leaning against the door, a half
+humorous smile on his lips. The tableau lasted several minutes.
+
+"Well," said Beauvais, "you do not seem very glad to see me."
+
+Maurice remained silent, and continued to gaze at his enemy over the
+tops of the upturned bayonets.
+
+"You are, as I said before, a very young man."
+
+"I killed a puppet of yours last night," replied Maurice, with a
+peculiar grimness.
+
+"Eh? So it was you? However, Kopf knew too much; he is dead, thanks to
+your service. After all, it was a stroke of war; the princess, whose
+little rose you have, was to have been a hostage."
+
+"If she had refused to be a wife," Maurice replied.
+
+Beauvais curled his mustache.
+
+"I know a good deal more than Kopf."
+
+"You do, certainly; but you are at a convenient nearness. What you know
+will be of no use to you. Let us sit down."
+
+"I prefer to stand. The honor you do me is too delicate."
+
+"O, you may have no fear."
+
+"I have none--so long as my back isn't turned toward you."
+
+Beauvais passed over this. "You are a very good blade; you handle a
+sword well. That is a compliment, considering that I am held as the
+first blade in the kingdom. It was only to-day I learned that formerly
+you had been a cavalryman in America. You have the making of a soldier."
+
+Maurice bowed, his hand resting near one of the bayonets.
+
+"You are also a soldier of fortune-like myself. You made a good stroke
+with the archbishop. You hoodwinked us all."
+
+Maurice did not reply.
+
+"Very well; we shall not dwell on it. You are discreet."
+
+Maurice saw that Beauvais was speaking in good faith.
+
+"You have something to say; come to it at once, for it is trying to
+watch you so closely."
+
+"I will give you--" He hesitated and scratched his chin. "I will give you
+ten thousand crowns as the price of your silence in regard to the South
+American affair."
+
+A sardonic laugh greeted this proposal. "I did not know that you were so
+cheap. But it is too late."
+
+"Too late?"
+
+"Doubtless, since by this time the authorities are in possession of the
+interesting facts."
+
+"I beg to differ from you."
+
+"Do as you please," said Maurice, triumphantly. "I sent an account of
+your former exploits both to my own government and to the one which you
+so treacherously betrayed. One or the other will not fail to reach."
+
+"I am perfectly well aware of that," Beauvais smiled. He reached into
+a pocket, and for a moment Maurice expected to see a pistol come forth.
+But he was needlessly alarmed. Beauvais extracted two envelopes from the
+pocket and sailed them through the intervening space. They fell on
+the table. "Put not your trust in hotel clerks," was the sententious
+observation. "At least, till you have discovered that no one else
+employs them. I am well served. The clerk was told to intercept your
+outgoing post; and there is the evidence. Ten thousand crowns and a safe
+conduct."
+
+Maurice picked up the letters mechanically. They were his; the stamps
+were not canceled, but the flaps were slit. He turned them this way and
+that, bewildered. He was convinced that he could in no way cope with
+this man of curious industries, this man who seemed to have a key for
+every lock, and whom nothing escaped. And the wise old Marshal had
+permitted him to leave the kingdom without let or hindrance. Perhaps the
+Marshal understood that Beauvais was a sort of powder train, and that
+the farther he was away from the mine the better for all concerned.
+
+"You are a great rascal," Maurice said finally.
+
+"We will waive that point. The matter at present is, how much will it
+take to buy your silence for the future?"
+
+"And I am sorry I did not kill you when I had the chance," continued
+Maurice, as if following a train of thought.
+
+"We never realize how great the opportunity is till it has passed beyond
+our reach. Well, how much?"
+
+"I am not in need of money."
+
+"To be sure; I forgot. But the archbishop could not have given you a
+competence for life."
+
+"I choked a few facts out of Kopf," said Maurice. "You will wear no
+crown--that is, earthly."
+
+"And your heavenly one is near at hand," rejoined Beauvais.
+
+Maurice absently fingered a bayonet.
+
+"You refuse this conciliation on my part?" asked Beauvais.
+
+"Positively."
+
+"Well, then, if anything happens to you, you will have only yourself to
+blame. I will leave you to digest that suggestion. Your life hangs in
+the balance. I will give you till to-morrow morning to make up your
+mind."
+
+"Go to the devil!"
+
+"In that, I shall offer you the precedence." And Beauvais backed out;
+backed out because Maurice had wrenched loose one of the bayonets.
+
+Maurice flung the bayonet across the room, went back to his chair, and
+tore his ill-fated letters into ribbons. When this was done he stared
+moodily at the impromptu candlesticks, and tried to conceive the manner
+in which Beauvais's threat would materialize.
+
+When the troops returned to their watch, they found the prisoner in a
+recumbent position, staring at the cracks in the floor, oblivious to
+all else save his thoughts, which were by no means charitable or humane.
+They resumed their game of cards. At length Maurice fell into a light
+slumber. The next time he opened his eyes it was because of a peculiar
+jar, which continued; a familiar, monotonous jar, such as the tread of
+feet on the earth creates. Tramp, tramp, tramp; it was a large body
+of men on the march. Soon this was followed by a lighter and
+noisier sound--cavalry. Finally, there came the rumbling of heavy
+metal--artillery. More than an hour passed before these varying sounds
+grew indistinct.
+
+Maurice was now fully awake. An army had passed the Red Chateau.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. A GAME OF POKER AND THE STAKES
+
+The next morning Beauvais came for his answer. It was not the answer he
+had expected.
+
+"So be it," he replied. "Your government had better appoint your
+successor at once. Good morning."
+
+"You will die suddenly some day," said Maurice.
+
+Beauvais shrugged, and departed.
+
+It was a dreary long day for the prisoner, who saw no one but his
+jailers. He wondered what time they would start for Brunnstadt. He had
+never seen Brunnstadt. He hoped the city would interest him. Was he to
+be disposed of on the road? No, that would scarcely be; there were too
+many witnesses. In the city prison, then; that was possible. The outlook
+was not rose-colored. He set to work to challenge each of his jailers,
+but this did not serve. At five o'clock the bluff old Colonel Mollendorf
+came in. He dismissed the troopers, who were glad enough to be relieved.
+
+"I'll be responsible for the prisoner from now on," he said. As soon
+as he and Maurice were alone he propped his chin and contemplated the
+sullen face of the prisoner. "Well, my son, I am positive that you have
+been accused somewhat hastily, but that's the way women have, jumping
+at conclusions before they read the preface. But you must give Madame
+credit for being honest in the matter, as well as the others. Beauvais
+is positive that the move of the archbishop is due to your selling out
+to him. Come, tell me the story. If you wish, I'll promise not to repeat
+it. Madame is determined to lock you up in any event."
+
+There was something so likable about the old warrior that Maurice
+relented.
+
+"There was nothing in the gun-barrels," he said. "Some one had entered
+that room before me. I thought at first that Beauvais had them; but he
+is the last man in the world to dispose of them to the prelate. But
+has the archbishop got them? I wish I knew. That's all there is to the
+story."
+
+"And her Royal Highness's dog?" slyly.
+
+"What! Did you hear about that?" Maurice flushed.
+
+"There is little going on in Bleiberg that we don't hear about. The
+princess is charming. Poor girl!"
+
+"Madame's victory will have a strange odor. Can she not let the king die
+in peace?"
+
+"My son, she dares not. If that throne were vacant of a king--Let us not
+talk politics."
+
+"Madame has no love for me," said Maurice.
+
+"Madame has no love for any one, if that will give you any
+satisfaction."
+
+"It does. My lord the Englishman came near striking me last night."
+
+"I would not lay that up against him. Madame was the power behind the
+throne."
+
+"And the impulse behind Madame?" smiling.
+
+"You are the only man who has ever crossed Madame's path; she can not
+forget it."
+
+"And she has put me in a bad light, as far as Fitzgerald is concerned. A
+man will believe anything a woman says to him, if he loves her."
+
+"Let us avoid dissertations."
+
+"What do you want to talk about?"
+
+"Yourself; you are interesting, entertaining, and instructive," the
+Colonel answered, laughing. "I never ran across an American who wasn't,
+and I have met a number. What have you done to Beauvais?"
+
+"It is not exactly what I've done; it is what I know."
+
+"What do you know?"
+
+Maurice repeated the story.
+
+"And you bested him at the rapiers?" in astonishment.
+
+"Is there anything startling about it?" asked Maurice.
+
+"He has no match hereabout." The Colonel looked across the table at the
+smooth-faced boy--he was scarcely else--and reflected. "Why did you give
+up the army?"
+
+"The army in America doesn't run to good clothes; the officers have to
+work harder than the privates, and, save in Washington, their social
+status is nil. Besides, there is too much fighting going on all the
+time. Here, an officer is always on dress parade."
+
+"Still, we are always ready. In the past we show up pretty well in
+history. But to return to Beauvais, it is very embarrassing, very."
+
+"It will be for him, if I live long enough."
+
+"Eh?"
+
+"Beauvais has promised to push me off the board, to use his own words. I
+am wondering how he will do it."
+
+"Don't let that disturb you; he will do nothing--now. Well, well; it is
+all a sorry game; and I find that making history has its disadvantages.
+But I have dandled Madame as a child on my knee, and her wish is law;
+wherever her fortunes lead, I must follow. She will win; she can not
+help winning. But I pity that poor devil of a king, who, they say, is
+now bereft of speech. Ah, had he been a man, I could have gone into this
+heart and soul."
+
+"He is on his deathbed. And his daughter, God knows what is in store for
+her. Prince Frederick is dallying with his peasant girl. The day for
+the wedding has come and gone, unless he turned up to-day, which is not
+likely."
+
+"Which is not likely indeed," repeated the Colonel sadly. He pulled out
+his pipe, and smoked for a time. "But let us not judge harshly, says
+the Book. There may be circumstances over which Prince Frederick has no
+control. I suppose your sympathies are on the other side of the path.
+Youth is always quick and generous; it never stops to weigh causes or
+to reason why. And strange, its judgment is almost always unerring. I am
+going to share my dinner with you to-night. I'll try to brighten you up
+a bit."
+
+"Thanks."
+
+"Then after dinner we'll play poker until they come to take you to
+Brunnstadt."
+
+"What sort of a city is it?"
+
+"You will not see much of it; so I will not take the trouble to tell you
+that it is slightly inferior to Bleiberg."
+
+Sure enough, when the dark of evening fell, two servants entered with
+trays and baskets, and proceeded to lay the table. They put new candles
+in the bayonets.
+
+"Ha!" said the Colonel; "you have forgotten the wine, rascals!"
+
+"Bring a dozen bottles," Maurice suggested, having an idea in mind.
+
+"Eh?"
+
+"Remember, Colonel, I've been a soldier and a journalist in a country
+where they only wash with water. In the summer we have whisky iced,
+in the winter we have it hot; an antidote for both heat and cold. Ah,
+Colonel, if you only might sniff a mint julep!"
+
+"A dozen bottles, then," said the Colonel to the servants, who retired
+to execute the order.
+
+"How old will it be?" asked Maurice.
+
+"Twice your age, my son. But do not make any miscalculation about my
+capacity for tokayer."
+
+"Any miscalculation?" Maurice echoed.
+
+"Yes; if you plan to get me drunk. There are no troopers about, and it
+would be easy enough for you to slip out if I should lose my head."
+
+Maurice's laugh had a false ring to it. The Colonel had made a very
+shrewd guess.
+
+"Well!" said the Colonel, with a gesture toward the table.
+
+They sat down, and both made an excellent dinner. Maurice demolished
+a roasted pheasant, stuffed with chestnuts, while the Colonel
+disintegrated a duck. The wine came, and the servants ranged six bottles
+on the side of each plate. It was done so gravely that Maurice laughed
+heartily. The wine was the oldest in Madame's cellar, and Maurice
+wondered at the Colonel's temerity in selecting it. The bottles were of
+thick glass, fat-bottomed, and ungainly, and Maurice figured that there
+was more than a pint in each. It possessed a delicious bouquet. The
+Colonel emptied three bottles, with no more effect than if the wine had
+been water. Maurice did not appreciate this feat until he had himself
+emptied a bottle. It was then he saw that the boot was likely to be on
+the other foot.
+
+He looked at the Colonel enviously; the old soldier was a gulf. He
+had miscalculated, indeed. But he was fertile in plans, and a more
+reasonable one occurred to him. He drank another bottle and began to
+talk verbosely. Later he grew confidential. He told the Colonel a great
+many things which--had never happened, things impossible and improbable.
+The Colonel listened soberly, and nodded now and again. Dinner past,
+they pushed the remains aside and began to play poker, a game at which
+the Colonel proved to be no novice, much to Maurice's wonder.
+
+"Why, you know the game as thoroughly as an Arizona corporal."
+
+"I generally spend a month of the winter in Vienna. One of your
+compatriots taught me the interesting game." The Colonel shuffled the
+cards. "It is the great American game, so I am told."
+
+"O, they play checkers in the New England states," said Maurice,
+hiccoughing slightly. "But out west and in all the great cities poker
+has the way."
+
+"What have you got?" asked the Colonel, answering a call.
+
+"Jacks full."
+
+"Takes the pot;" and this Americanism came so naturally that Maurice
+roared.
+
+"Poker is a great preliminary study to diplomacy," said the Colonel, as
+he scrutinized his hand. "You raise it?"
+
+"Yes. One card. Diplomacy? So it is. I played a game with the Chinese
+ambassador in Washington one night. I was teaching him how to play. I
+lost all the ready money I had with me. Next day I found out that he
+was the shrewdest player in the diplomatic circles. Let's make it a
+jackpot."
+
+"All the same to me."
+
+And the game went on. Presently Maurice threw aside his coat. He was
+feeling the warmth of the wine, but he opened another bottle.
+
+"Is there any truth," said the Colonel, "about your shooting a man who
+is found cheating in your country?"
+
+"There is, if you can draw quicker than he." Maurice glanced at his hand
+and threw it down.
+
+"What did you have?"
+
+"Nothing. I was trying to fill a straight."
+
+"So was I," said the Colonel, sweeping the board. "It's your deal." He
+unbottoned his coat.
+
+Maurice felt a shiver of delight. Sticking out of the Colonel's belt was
+the ebony handle of a cavalry revolver, and he made up his mind to get
+it. There were no troopers around--the Colonel had admitted as much. He
+began talking rapidly, sometimes incoherently. In a corner of the room
+he saw the cords which had been around his wrists and ankles the night
+before.
+
+"Poker," said the Colonel, "depends mostly on what you Americans call
+bluff. A bluff, as I understand it, is making the others think you have
+them when you haven't, or you haven't got them when you have. In one
+case you scare them, in the other you fish. You're getting flushed, my
+son; you'll have a headache to-night; and in an hour you start."
+
+An hour! There was fever in Maurice's veins, but it was not caused
+wholly by the heat of the wine. How should he manage it? He must have
+that revolver.
+
+"Call? What have you got?" asked the Colonel.
+
+"Three kings--no, by George! only a pair. I thought a queen was a
+king. My head's beginning to get shaky. Colonel, I believe I am getting
+drunk."
+
+"I am sure of it."
+
+Maurice got up and rolled in an extraordinary fashion, but he was
+careful not to overdo it. He began to sing. The Colonel got up, too, and
+he was laughing. Maurice accidentally knocked over some empty bottles;
+he kicked them about.
+
+"Sh!" cried the Colonel, coming around the table; "you'll stampede the
+horses."
+
+Maurice staggered toward him, and the Colonel caught him in his arms.
+Maurice suddenly drew back, and the Colonel found himself looking into
+the cavernous tube of his own revolver. Not a muscle in his face moved.
+
+"Take off your coat," said Maurice, quietly.
+
+The Colonel complied. "You are not so very drunk just now."
+
+"No. It was one of those bluffs when you make them think you haven't
+them when you have."
+
+"What next?" asked the Colonel.
+
+"Those cords in the corner."
+
+The Colonel picked them up, sat down and gravely tied one around
+his ankles. Maurice watched him curiously. The old fellow was rather
+agreeable, he thought.
+
+"Now," the Colonel inquired calmly, "how are you going to tie my hands?
+Can you hold the revolver in one hand and tie with the other?"
+
+"Hang me!" exclaimed Maurice, finding himself brought to a halt.
+
+"My son," said the Colonel, "you are clever. In fact, you are one of
+those fellows who grow to be great. You never miss an opportunity, and
+more often than not you invent opportunities, which is better still. The
+truth is, you have proceeded exactly on the lines I thought you would;
+and thereby you have saved me the trouble of lying or having it out with
+Madame. I am a victim, not an accomplice; I was forced at the point of a
+revolver; I had nothing to say. If I had really been careless you would
+have accomplished the feat just the same. For it was easily accomplished
+you will admit. 'Tis true I knew you were acting because I expected you
+to act. All this preamble puzzles you."
+
+Certainly Maurice's countenance expressed nothing less than perplexity.
+He stepped back a few paces.
+
+"You have," continued the Colonel, "perhaps three-quarters of an hour.
+You will be able to get out of here. You will have to depend on your
+resources to cross the frontier."
+
+"Would you just as soon explain to me--"
+
+"It means that a certain young lady, like myself, believes in your
+innocence."
+
+"The countess?" Maurice cried eagerly, remembering the look of the night
+before and the tears which were in it.
+
+"I will not mention any names. Suffice it to say that it was due to her
+pleading that I consented to play poker--and to let you fall into my
+arms. Come, to work," holding out his hands.
+
+First Maurice clasped the hand and wrung it. "Colonel, I do not want you
+to get into trouble on my account--"
+
+"Go along with you! If you were really important," in half a banter, "it
+would be altogether a different matter. As it is, you are more in the
+way than anything else, only Madame does not see it in that light. Come,
+at my wrists, and take your handkerchief and tie it over my mouth; make
+a complete job of it while you're at it."
+
+"But they'll wonder how I tied you--"
+
+"By the book, the boy is quite willing to sit down and play poker with
+me till the escort comes! Don't trouble yourself about me; Madame has
+too much need of me to give me more than a slight rating. Hurry and be
+off, and remember that Beauvais has promised to push you off the board.
+Take the near path for the woods and strike northeast. If you run into
+any sentries it will be your own fault."
+
+"And the army?"
+
+"The army? Who the devil has said anything about the army?"
+
+"I heard it go past last night."
+
+"Humph! Keep to the right of the pass. Now, quick, before my conscience
+speaks above a whisper."
+
+"I should like to see the countess."
+
+"You will--if you reach Bleiberg by to-morrow night."
+
+Maurice needed no further urging, and soon he had the Colonel securely
+bound and silenced. Next he put on the Colonel's hat and coat, and
+examined the revolver.
+
+"It was very kind of you to load it, Colonel."
+
+The Colonel blinked his eyes.
+
+"Au revoir!" said Maurice, as he made for the door. "Vergis mein nicht!"
+and he was gone.
+
+He crept down the stairs, cautiously entered the court, it was deserted.
+The moon was up and shining. The gate was locked, but he climbed it
+without mishap. Not a sentry was in sight. He followed the path, and
+swung off into the forest. He was free. Here he took a breathing spell.
+When he started onward he held the revolver ready. Woe to the sentry who
+blundered on him! For he was determined to cross the frontier if there
+was a breath of life in him. Moreover, he must be in Bleiberg within
+twenty hours.
+
+He was positive that Madame the duchess intended to steal a march, to
+declare war only when she was within gunshot of Bleiberg. It lay with
+him to prevent this move. His cup of wrath was full. From now on he was
+resolved to wage war against Madame on his own account. She had laughed
+in his face. He pushed on, examining trees, hollows and ditches.
+Sometimes he put his hand to his ear and listened. There was no sound in
+the great lonely forest, save for the low murmur of the wind through the
+sprawling boughs. Shadows danced on the forest floor. Once he turned and
+shook his clenched fist toward the spot which marked the location of the
+Red Chateau. He thanked Providence that he was never to see it again.
+What an adventure to tell at the clubs when he once more regained his
+Vienna! Would he regain it?
+
+Why did Madame keep Fitzgerald to her strings? He concluded not to
+bother himself with problems abstract; the main object was to cross
+the Thalians by a path of his own choosing. When he had covered what he
+thought to be a quarter of a mile, he mounted a lookout. The highway was
+about three hundred yards to the left. That was where it should be. He
+saw no sentries, so he slid down from the tree and resumed his journey.
+The chestnuts, oaks, and firs were growing thicker and denser. A dead
+branch cracked with a loud report beneath his feet. With his heart
+almost in his throat, he lay down and listened. A minute passed; he
+listened in vain for an answering noise. He got up and went on.
+
+Presently he came upon a cluster of trees which was capable of affording
+a hiding place for three or four men. He stood still and surveyed it.
+The moon cast moving shadows on either side of it, but these had no
+human shape. He laughed silently at his fear, and as he was about to
+pass the cluster a man stepped out from behind it, his eyes gleaming
+and his hand extended. He was rather a handsome fellow, but pale and
+emaciated. He wore a trooper's uniform, and Maurice, swearing softly,
+concluded that his dash for liberty had come to naught. He, too, held
+a revolver in his hand, but he dared not raise it. There was a certain
+expression on the trooper's face which precluded any arguing.
+
+"If you move," the trooper said, in a mild voice; "if you utter a sound,
+I'll blow off the top of your cursed head!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. THE PRISONER OF THE RED CHATEAU
+
+There the two stood, mottled in the moonshine and shadow, with wild
+eyes and nostrils distended, the one triumphant, the other raging and
+impotent. Maurice was growing weary of fortune's discourtesies. He gazed
+alternately from his own revolver, lying at his feet, to the one in
+the hand of this unexpected visitant. Only two miles between him and
+freedom, yet he must turn back. The Colonel had reckoned without Madame,
+and therefore without reason. This man had probably got around in front
+of him when he climbed the tree. He turned sullenly and started to walk
+away, expecting to be followed.
+
+"Halt! Where the devil are you going?"
+
+"Why, back to your cursed chateau!" Maurice answered surlily.
+
+The strange trooper laughed discordantly. "Back to the chateau? I think
+not. Now, then, right about face--march! Aye, toward the frontier; and
+if I have to go on alone, so much the worse for you. I've knocked in one
+man's head; if necessary, I'll blow off the top of yours. You know the
+way back to Bleiberg, I don't; that is why I want your company. Now
+march."
+
+But Maurice did not march; he was filled with curiosity. "Are you a
+trooper in Madame the duchess's household?" he asked.
+
+"No, curse you!"
+
+"Who are you, then?"
+
+"Come, come; this will not pass. No tricks; you have been following me
+these twenty minutes."
+
+"The deuce I have!" exclaimed Maurice, bewildered. "To Bleiberg, is it?"
+
+"And without loss of time. When we cross the Thalians I shall be
+perfectly willing to parley with you."
+
+"To Bleiberg, then," said Maurice. "Since that is my destination, the
+devil I care how I get there."
+
+"Do you mean to tell me that you are going to Bleiberg?" surprise
+mingling with his impatience.
+
+"No place else."
+
+"Are you a spy?" menacingly.
+
+"No more than you."
+
+"But that uniform!"
+
+"I fancy yours looks a good deal like it," Maurice replied testily.
+
+"I confess I never saw you before, and your tongue has a foreign twist,"
+with growing doubt.
+
+"I am sure I never saw you before, nor want to see you again."
+
+"What are you doing in that uniform?"
+
+"You have the advantage of me; suppose you begin the introduction?"
+
+"Indeed I have the advantage of you, and propose to maintain it. Who are
+you and what are you doing here? Answer!"
+
+There was something in the young man's aspect which convinced Maurice
+that it would be folly to trifle. Besides, he gave to his words an
+air which distinguishes the man who commands from the man who serves.
+Maurice briefly acquainted the young man with his name and position.
+
+"And you?" he asked.
+
+"I?" The young man laughed again. It was an unpleasant laugh. "Never
+mind who I am. Let us go, we are losing time. What is the date?"
+suddenly.
+
+"The twentieth of September," answered Maurice.
+
+"My God, a day too late!" The young man had an attack of vertigo, and
+was obliged to lean against a tree for support. "Are you telling me the
+truth about yourself?"
+
+"I am. I myself was attempting to dispense with the questionable
+hospitality of the Red Chateau--good Lord!" striking his forehead.
+
+"What's the matter?"
+
+"Are you the mysterious prisoner of the chateau, the man they have been
+keeping at the end of the east corridor on the third floor?"
+
+"Yes. And woe to the woman who kept me there! How came you there?"
+
+Maurice, confident that something extraordinary was taking place,
+related in synopsis his adventures.
+
+"And this cursed Englishman?"
+
+"Will drain a bitter cup. Madame is playing with him."
+
+"And the king; is he dead?"
+
+"He is dying." Maurice's wonder grew. What part had this strange young
+man in this comedy, which was rapidly developing into a tragedy?
+
+"And her Highness--her Royal Highness?" eagerly clutching Maurice by the
+arm; "and she?"
+
+"She does not murmur, though both her pride and her heart are sore.
+She has scarcely a dozen friends. Her paralytic father is the theme of
+ribald jest; and now they laugh at her because the one man who perhaps
+could have saved the throne has deserted her like a coward. Hang him, I
+say!"
+
+"What do they say?" The tones were hollow.
+
+"They say he is enamoured of a peasant girl, and dallies with her,
+forgetting his sacred vows, his promised aid, and perhaps even this, his
+wedding day."
+
+"God help him!" was the startling and despairing cry.... He was again
+seized with the vertigo, and swayed against the tree. For a moment he
+forgot Maurice, covered his face with his unengaged hand, and sobbed.
+
+Maurice was helpless; he could offer no consolation. This grief he could
+not understand. He stooped and picked up his revolver and waited.
+
+"I am weak," said the other man, dashing his hand from his eyes; "I am
+weak and half starved. It would be better for all concerned if I blew
+out my brains. The twentieth, the twentieth!" he repeated, dully. "Curse
+her!" he burst forth; "as there's a God above us, I'll have revenge.
+Aye, I'll return to the chateau, Madame, that I will, but at the head of
+ten thousand men!... The twentieth! She will never forgive me; she will
+think I, too, deserted her!" He broke down again.
+
+"An army!" cried Maurice.
+
+"Aye, and ten thousand men! Come," taking Maurice by the arm; "come,
+they may be seeking us. To the frontier. Every hour is precious. To
+a telegraph office! We shall see if I dally with peasant girls, if I
+forsake the woman I love!"
+
+"You?" Maurice retreated a step. The silver moonshine became tinged with
+red.
+
+"I am Prince Frederick, and I love her Highness. I would sacrifice a
+thousand kingdoms to spare her a moment's sorrow. I have always loved
+her."
+
+"What a woman!" Maurice murmured, as the scheme of Madame's flashed
+through his mind. "What a woman! And she had the audacity to kidnap you,
+too!"
+
+"And by the most dishonorable device. I and my suite of gentlemen were
+coming to Bleiberg to make the final arrangements. At Ehrenstein I
+received a telegram which requested me to visit till the following train
+a baron who was formerly a comrade of my father. The telegram advised me
+of his sudden illness, and that he had something important to disclose
+to me. I bade my gentlemen, save one, proceed to Bleiberg. My aide and
+I entered the carriage which was to convey us to the castle. We never
+reached it. On the road we fell into an ambush, a contrivance of
+Madame's. I was brought to the chateau. Whatever happened to Hofer, my
+aide, I do not know. Doubtless he is dead. But Madame shall pay, both in
+pride and wealth. I will lay waste this duchy of hers, though in the end
+the emperor crush me. Let us be off."
+
+They stumbled on through the forest. So confused was Maurice that he
+forgot his usual caution. The supreme confidence of this woman and
+the flawlessness of her schemes dazed him. So far she had stopped at
+nothing; where would she end? A Napoleon in petticoats, she was about to
+appall the confederation. She had suppressed a prince who was heir to
+a kingdom triple in power and size to the kingdom which she coveted.
+Madame the duchess was relying on some greater power, else her plans
+were madness.
+
+As for the prince, he had but one thought: to reach Bleiberg. The
+confinement, together with mental suffering, anxiety and forced
+inaction, began to tell on him. Twice he tripped and fell, and Maurice
+had to return to assist him to his feet. However could they cross
+the mountains, a feat which needed both courage and extreme physical
+endurance?
+
+"I am so weak," said the prince, "so pitiably weak! I thought to
+frighten the woman by starving myself, poor fool that I was!"
+
+And they went on again. Maurice was beginning to feel the effect of his
+wine-bibbing; he had a splitting headache.
+
+"Silence!" he suddenly whispered, sinking and dragging the prince with
+him.
+
+A hundred yards in advance of them stood a sentinel, his body bent
+forward and a hand to his ear. Presently he, too, lay down. Five minutes
+passed. The sentinel rose, and convinced that his ears had tricked him,
+resumed his lonely patrol. He disappeared toward the west, while the
+fugitives made off in an easterly direction. Maurice was a soldier
+again. Every two or three hundred yards he knelt and pressed his ear to
+the cold, damp earth and waited for a familiar jar. The prince watched
+these movements with interest.
+
+"You have been a soldier?" he asked.
+
+"Yes. Perhaps we had better strike out for the mountains. The sentry
+line can not extend as far as this."
+
+But now they could see the drab peaks of the mountains which loomed
+between the partly dismantled trees. Beyond lay the kingdom. Would they
+ever reach it? There was only one pass; this they dared not make. Yet
+if they attempted to cross the mountains in a deserted place, they
+might very easily get lost; for in some locations it was fully six miles
+across the range, and this, with the ups and downs and windings in
+and out, might lengthen into twenty miles. They struck out toward the
+mountains, and after half an hour they came upon an unforeseen obstacle.
+They sat down in despair. This obstacle was the river, not very, wide,
+but deep, turbulent and impassable.
+
+"We shall have to risk the pass," said Maurice, gloomily; "though heaven
+knows how we are to get through it. We have ten shots between us."
+
+They followed the river. The roar of it deadened all other sounds. For
+a mile they plodded on, silent, watchful and meditative. The prince
+thought of his love; Maurice tried to forget his. For him the romance
+had come to an end, its logical end; and it was now only a question of
+getting back to the world to which he belonged and remaining there. He
+recalled a line he had read somewhere: a deep love, gashes into the
+soul as a scar is hewn upon the body and remains there during the whole
+life...
+
+"Look!" cried the prince. He pointed toward the west.
+
+Maurice came out of his dream and looked. Some distance west of the
+pass, perhaps half a mile from where they stood, Maurice saw the twinkle
+of a hundred campfires. It was Madame's army in bivouac.
+
+"What does this mean?" asked the prince.
+
+"It means that the duchess is on the eve of striking a blow for her
+crown," answered Maurice. "And how are we to make the pass, which is
+probably filled with soldiers? If only we could find a boat! Ah! what
+would your Highness call this?" He pointed to a thread-like line of bare
+earth which wended riverward.
+
+"A sheep or cattle path," said the prince, after a close inspection.
+
+"Then the river is perhaps fordable here!" exclaimed Maurice jubilantly.
+"At any rate, we'll try it; if it gets too deep, we'll come back."
+
+He walked to the water's edge, studied the black whirling mass,
+shrugged and stepped in. The prince came after him, unhesitatingly. Both
+shivered. The water was intensely cold. But the bed was shallow, and
+the river never mounted above the waist. However, in midstream it rushed
+strongly and wildly along, and all but carried them off their feet. They
+arrived in safety at the opposite shore, weak and cold in body, but warm
+in spirit. They lay on the grass for several moments, breathing heavily.
+They might now gain the pass by clambering up the mountain and picking
+their way down from the other side. It was not possible that Madame's
+troopers had entered into the kingdom.
+
+"I am giving out," the prince confessed reluctantly. "Let us make as
+much headway as we can while I last."
+
+They stood up. Now the moon fell upon them both; and they viewed each
+other with no little curiosity. What the prince saw pleased him, for he
+possessed a good eye. What Maurice saw was a frank, manly countenance,
+youthful, almost boyish. The prince did not look to be more than three
+and twenty, if that; but there was a man's determination in his jaw.
+This jaw pleased Maurice, for it confided to him that Madame had now
+something that would cause her worry.
+
+"I put myself in your care," said the prince, offering his hand. "I am
+not equal to much. A man can not see his wedding day come and go without
+him, helpless to prevent it, and not have the desire to sit down and
+weep and curse. You will see nothing but the unfavorable side of me for
+the next dozen hours."
+
+"I'm not altogether amiable myself," replied Maurice with a short
+laugh. "Let us get out of the moonlight," he added; "we are somewhat
+conspicuous, and besides, we should keep moving; this cold is
+paralyzing. Is your Highness equal to the climbing?"
+
+"Equal or not, lead the way. If I fall I'll call you."
+
+And the weary march began again; over boulders, through tangles of tough
+shrubbery, up steep inclines, around precipices, sometimes enveloped in
+mists, yet still they kept on. Often the prince fell over ragged stones,
+but he picked himself up without assistance; though he swore some,
+Maurice thought none the less of him for that bit of human weakness. The
+cold was numbing, and neither felt the cuts and bruises.
+
+After two hours of this fatiguing labor they arrived upon a small
+plateau, about two thousand feet above the valley. The scene was solemn
+and imposing. The world seemed lying at their feet. The chateau, half
+hidden in the mist, sparkled like an opal. Maurice scowled at it. To the
+prince the vision was as reviving as a glass of wine. He threatened
+it with his fist, and plunged on with renewed vigor. There are few
+sensations so stimulating as the thought of a complete revenge. The
+angle of vision presently changed, and the historic pile vanished.
+Maurice never saw the Red Chateau again.
+
+Little more in the way of mishap befell them; and when the moon had
+wheeled half way down from the zenith, the kingdom lay below them.
+A descent of an hour's duration brought them into the pass. Maurice
+calculated that nearly five hours had passed since he left the chateau;
+for the blue was fading in the east. The phantom vitality of the prince
+now forsook him; his legs refused their offices, and he sank upon a
+boulder, his head in his hands. Maurice was not much better; but the
+prince had given him the burden of responsibility, and he was determined
+to hold up under it.
+
+"If your Highness will remain here," he said, "I will fetch assistance,
+for the barrack can not be far off."
+
+The prince nodded and Maurice tramped away. But the miniature barrack
+and the quaint stone customs house both were wrapt in gloom and
+darkness. Maurice investigated. Both buildings were deserted; there
+was no sign of life about. He broke a window, and entered the customs
+office. Remembering that Colonel Mollendorf smoked, he searched the
+inner pocket of his coat. He drew forth a box of wax matches, struck one
+and looked about. A struggle had taken place. Evidences were strewn on
+the floor. The telegraph operator's table had been smashed into bits,
+the instrument twisted out of shape, the jars broken and the wires cut.
+Like indications of a disturbance were also found in the barrack.
+
+Maurice began to comprehend. Madame's troopers had crossed the frontier,
+but they had returned again, taking with them the handful of troopers
+belonging to the king. It was plain that the object of this skirmish had
+been to destroy communications between Bleiberg and the frontier. Madame
+desired to effect a complete surprise, to swoop down on the capital
+before it could bring a large force into the field.
+
+There is an unwritten law that when one country intends to wage war
+against its neighbor a formal declaration shall be made. But again
+Madame had forsaken the beaten paths. More than three weeks had passed
+since the duchy's representative in Bleiberg had been discredited and
+given his passports. At once the duchess had retaliated by discrediting
+the king's representative in Brunnstadt. Ordinarily this would have been
+understood as a mutual declaration of war. Instead, both governments
+ignored each other, one suspiciously, the other intentionally. All of
+which is to say, the gage of war had been flung, but neither had stooped
+to pick it up.
+
+Perhaps Madame expected by this sudden aggressiveness to win her fight
+with as little loss of blood as possible, which in justice to her was to
+her credit. Again, a declaration of war openly made might have moved the
+confederation to veto it by coercion. To win without loss of life would
+leave the confederation powerless to act. Therefore it will be seen that
+Madame was not only a daring woman, but a general of no mean ability.
+
+This post was an isolated one; between it and Bleiberg there was not
+even a village. The main pass from the kingdom into the duchy was about
+thirty miles east. Here was a small but lively city named Coberg, a
+railway center, garrisoned by one thousand troops. At this pass Madame's
+contemplated stroke of war would have been impossible. The railway ran
+directly from Coberg to Brunnstadt, fifty miles south of the frontier.
+A branch of the railway ran from Brunnstadt to a small town seven
+miles south of the Red Chateau, which accounts for the ease with which
+Madame's troops had reached the isolated pass. It was now likely that
+Madame would arrive before Bleiberg ere her enemies dreamed of the
+stroke. Maurice could see how well the traitorous administration had
+played into Madame's hands. Here was the one weak spot, and they had
+allowed it to remain thus weak.
+
+"The kingdom is lost," thought Maurice. "His Highness and I may as well
+return to the chateau, for all the good our escape will do us. Hang them
+all!"
+
+He began to forage, and discovered a bottle full of peach brandy. He
+drank half the contents, reserving the remainder for the prince. As he
+lowered the bottle there came a sound which caused him almost to lose
+hold of the vigorous tonic. The sound he heard was the shrill whinney
+of a horse. He pocketed the bottle and dashed out to the stables. To his
+joy several horses stamped restlessly in the stalls. The attacking party
+had without doubt come on foot. He led out two, saddled and bridled them
+and returned to the prince, who had fallen asleep. Maurice roused him.
+
+"To Bleiberg, your Highness," he cried, at the same time offering the
+bottle, which the prince did not hesitate to empty.
+
+"Ha!" staggering to his feet. "Where are the men?"
+
+Maurice explained the cause of their absence. The prince swore, and
+climbed with difficulty into the saddle.
+
+"Thank God," he said, as they galloped away, "we shall be there first."
+
+"Adieu, Madame!" Maurice cried, airily. He was free.
+
+"To our next meeting, duchess!" The prince, too, was free, but he
+thirsted for a full revenge.
+
+They had been on the way but a short time when Maurice lifted his arm.
+
+"Look!"
+
+The prince raised his head. It was dawn, yellow and cold and pure.
+
+They fell into silence; sometimes Maurice caught himself counting the
+beat of the hoofs and the variation of sounds, as when they struck
+sand or slate, or crossed small wooden bridges. Here and there he saw
+peasants going into the fields to begin the long, long day of toil. The
+saddle on which he sat had been the property of a short man, for the
+stirrups were too high, and the prince's were too low. But neither
+desired to waste time to adjust them. And so they rode with dangling
+legs and bodies sunken in the saddles; mute, as if by agreement.
+
+They had gone perhaps ten miles when they perceived a horse flying
+toward them, half a mile away. The rider was not yet visible. They felt
+no alarm, but instinctively they drew together. Nearer and nearer came
+the lonely horseman, and as the distance lessened into some hundred
+yards they discerned the flutter of a gown.
+
+"A woman!" exclaimed Maurice. "And alone this time of morning!"
+
+"Eh?" cried the prince; "and heading for the duchy? Let us wait."
+
+They drew up to the side of the highway. The woman came fearlessly on,
+her animal's head down and his tail flaring out behind. On, on; abreast
+of them; as she flew past there was a vision of a pale, determined face,
+a blond head bared to the chill wind. She heeded not their challenge;
+it was a question whether or not she heard it. They stood watching her
+until she and her horse dwindled into a mere moving speck, finally to
+become lost altogether in a crook of the road.
+
+"I should like to know what that means," said Maurice.
+
+"It is very strange," the prince said, musingly. "I have seen that woman
+before. She is one of the dancers at the opera."
+
+"Mayhap she has a lover on the other side."
+
+"Mayhap. Let us be on. There's the sun, and we are a good thirteen
+miles away!" and the prince slapped the neck of his horse, which bounded
+forward.
+
+This tiring pace they maintained until they mounted the hill from which
+they could see the glittering spires of the city, and the Werter See as
+it flashed back the sunlight.
+
+"Bleiberg!" Maurice waved his hand.
+
+"Thanks to you, that I look on it."
+
+It was ten o'clock when they passed under the city gates.
+
+"Monsieur, will you go with me to the palace?" asked the prince.
+
+"If your Highness will excuse me," said Maurice; "no, I should be in the
+way; and besides I am dead for want of sleep."
+
+"I shall never sleep," grumbled the prince, "till I have humbled that
+woman. And you? Have you no rankle in your heart? Have you no desire to
+witness that woman's humiliation?"
+
+"Your Highness, I belong to a foreign country."
+
+"No matter; be my aide. Come; I offer you a complete revenge for the
+treatment you have received at Madame's hands. Your government shall
+never know."
+
+Maurice studied the mane of his horse. Suddenly he made a gesture. This
+gesture consigned to the four winds his diplomatic career. "I accept,"
+he said. "You will find me at the Continental. I confess that I have no
+love for this woman. She has robbed me of no little conceit."
+
+"To the palace, then; to the palace! And this hour to-morrow we, you and
+I, will drink to her Royal Highness at the Red Chateau. To the palace!"
+
+Up the Strasse they raced, through the lower town to the upper, and down
+the broad asphalt to the palace gates. The prince rushed his horse to
+the very bars and shook them in his wild impatience.
+
+"Ho! open, open!" he called.
+
+Several cuirassiers lounged about. At the sight of these two hatless,
+bedraggled men storming the gates, they ran forward with drawn swords
+and angry cries. Lieutenant Scharfenstein was among them. At second
+glance he recognized Maurice, who hailed him.
+
+"Open, Lieutenant," he cried; "it is his Highness, Prince Frederick!"
+
+The bars came down, the gates swung in.
+
+"Go and sleep," said the prince to Maurice; "I will send an orderly for
+you when the time comes." And with this he dashed up the driveway to the
+main entrance of the palace, leaped from his horse and disappeared.
+
+Maurice wheeled and drove leisurely to the Continental, leaving the
+amazed cuirassiers gaping after him. He experienced that exuberance of
+spirits which always comes with a delightful day dream. He forgot his
+weariness, his bruises. To mingle directly in the affairs of kings and
+princes, to be a factor among factors who surround and uphold thrones,
+seemed so at variance with his republican learning that he was not sure
+that all this was not one long dream--Fitzgerald and his consols, the
+meeting with the princess, the adventures at Madame's chateau, the
+duel with Beauvais, the last night's flight with the prince across the
+mountains! Yes; he had fallen asleep somewhere and had been whisked away
+into a kind of fairyland. Every one was in trouble just now, as they
+always are in certain chapters of fairy tales, but all would end
+happily, and then--he would wake.
+
+Meanwhile the prince entered the palace and was proceeding up the grand
+corridor, when a bared sword stayed his progress.
+
+"Monsieur," said von Mitter, "you have lost your way. You can not enter
+here."
+
+"I?" a haughty, threatening expression on his pale face. "Are you sure?"
+
+Von Mitter fell back against the wall and all but lost hold of his
+saber. "Your Highness?" he gasped, overcome.
+
+"Even so!" said the prince. "The archbishop! the Marshal! Lead me to
+them at once!"
+
+Von Mitter was too much the soldier not to master his surprise at once.
+He saluted, clicked his heels and limped toward the throne room.
+He stopped at the threshold, saluted again, and, in a voice full of
+quavers, announced:
+
+"His Highness Prince Frederick of Carnavia."
+
+He stepped aside, and the prince pushed past him into the throne room.
+At this dramatic entrance there rose from the archbishop, the Marshal,
+the princess, the Carnavian ambassador, from all the court dignitaries,
+a cry of wonder and astonishment.
+
+"His Highness!"
+
+"Aye!" cried the prince, brokenly, for his joy at seeing the princess
+nigh overcame him. "I have been a prisoner of Madame's, who at this
+moment is marching on Bleiberg with an army four thousand strong!" And
+stumblingly he related his misadventures.
+
+The Marshal did not wait until he had done, nor did the new Colonel
+of the cuirassiers; both rushed from the room. The archbishop frowned;
+while the princess and the court stared at the prince with varying
+emotions. Before the final word had passed his lips, he approached her
+Highness, fell on his knee and raised her hand to his lips. He noticed
+not how cold it was.
+
+"Thank God, Mademoiselle," he said, "that once more I look into your
+eyes. And if one wedding day is gone--well, there is yet time for
+another!" He, rose, and proudly before them all he drew her toward him
+and kissed her cheek. It was his right; she was, the light of all
+his dreams, at once his bride-to-be and lady-love. But in his joy and
+eagerness he did not see how pale she grew at the touch of his lips, nor
+how the lids of her eyes trembled and fell.
+
+Next the prince recounted Maurice's adventures, how he became connected
+with those at the chateau, even Fitzgerald's fall from grace. The
+indignation and surprise which was accorded this recital was unbounded.
+
+The brown eyes of the princess filled. In a moment she had traversed the
+space of ten years to a rare September noon, when a gray-haired old man
+had kissed her hand and praised her speech. A young dog stood beside
+her, ready for a romp in the park. Across the path sat her father, who
+was smiling, and who would never smile again. How many times had her
+girlish fancy pictured the son of that old man! How many times had she
+dreamed of him--aye, prayed for him! The room grew dark, and she pressed
+her hand over her heart. To her the future was empty indeed. There was
+nothing left but the vague perfume of the past, the faint incense of
+futile, childish dreams. To stand on the very threshold of life, and
+yet to see no joy beyond! She struggled against the sob which rose, and
+conquered it.
+
+"To arms, Messieurs, to arms!" cried the prince, feverishly. "To arms!"
+
+The archbishop stepped forward and took the prince's hand in his own.
+
+"God wills all things," he said, sadly, "and perhaps he has willed that
+your Highness should come too late!" And that strange, habitual smile
+was gone--forever. No one could fathom the true significance of this
+peculiar speech.
+
+"But 'aux armes' was taken up, and spread throughout the city.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. THE FORTUNES OF WAR
+
+War! The whole city was in tumult. The guests were leaving the hotels,
+the timid were preparing to fly, and shopkeepers were putting up their
+blinds and hiding their valuables; the parks and cafes were deserted.
+The railway booking office was crowded, and a babel of tongues quarreled
+for precedence. The siege of Paris was but yesterday's news, and
+tourists did not propose to be walled in from the outer world. Some
+looked upon the scene as a comic opera; others saw the tragedy of men
+snarling at one another's throats.
+
+Two hundred gendarmes patrolled the streets; for in war time the dregs
+of a city float to the surface. Above the foreign legations flags rose,
+offering protection to all those who possessed the right to claim it.
+Less than four thousand troops had marched from the city that day, but
+these were the flower of the army, consisting of two thousand foot, six
+cannon and twelve hundred horse. Europe has always depended largely
+on the cavalry, which in the past has been a most formidable engine in
+warfare.
+
+With gay plumes and banners, glittering helmets and flashing cuirasses,
+they had gone forth to meet Madame and drive her back across the range.
+They had made a brave picture, especially the royal cuirassiers, who
+numbered three hundred strong, and who were to fight not only for glory,
+but for bread. Fifty of them had been left behind to guard the palaces.
+
+In the royal bedchamber the king lay, all unconscious of the fate
+impending. The brain had ceased to live; only a feeble pulse stirred
+irregularly. The state physician shook his head, and, from time to time,
+laid his fingers on the unfeeling wrist. To him it was a matter of a few
+hours.
+
+But to the girl, whose face lay hidden in the counterpane, close to one
+of those senseless hands, to her it was a matter of a breaking heart, of
+eyes which could be no longer urged to tears, the wells having dried up.
+Dear God, she thought, how cruel it was! Her tried and trusted friend,
+the one playmate of her childhood, was silently slipping out of her life
+forever. Ah, what to her were crowns and kingdoms, aye, and even war?
+Her father dead, what mattered it who reigned? How she prayed that he
+might live! They would go away together, and live in peace and quiet,
+undisturbed by the storms of intrigue.... It was not to be; he was
+dying. She would be the wife of no man; her father, hovering in spirit
+above her, would read her heart and understand. Dead, he would ask no
+sacrifice of her. Henceforth only God would be her king, and she would
+worship him in some sacred convent.
+
+The old valet, who had served his master from boyhood, stood in the
+anteroom and fumbled his lips, his faded eyes red with weeping. He was
+losing the only friend he had. Elsewhere the servants wandered about
+restlessly, waiting for news from the front, to learn if they, too, were
+to join in the mad flight from the city. Few servants love masters in
+adversity. Self-interest is the keynote to their existences.
+
+In the east wing three men were holding a whispered consultation. The
+faces of two were pale and deep-lined; the face of the third expressed
+a mixture of condolence and triumph. These three gentlemen were the
+archbishop, the chancellor and the Austrian ambassador. History has not
+taken into account what passed between these three men, but subsequent
+events proved that it signified disaster to one who dreamed of conquest
+and of power.
+
+Said the ambassador, rising: "After what has been said, his Imperial
+Majesty will, I can speak authoritatively, further discredit Walmoden;
+for I have this day received information from a reliable source which
+precludes any rehabilitation of that prince. My deepest sympathies are
+with her Highness; his Majesty highly honored her unfortunate father.
+Permit me to bid you good day, for you know that the matter under my
+hand needs my immediate attention."
+
+When he had gone the prelate said: "My friend, our services to the
+kingdom are nearly over."
+
+"We are lost!" replied the chancellor. "The king is happy, indeed."
+
+"I find," said the prelate, "that we have been lost for ten years. Had
+this Englishman proved true, it would not have mattered; had Prince
+Frederick arrived in time, still it would not have mattered. But above
+all, I was determined that Madame the duchess should not triumph. The
+end was written ten years ago. How invincible is fate! How incontestible
+its decrees!"
+
+In the lower town the students were preparing a riot, which was to take
+place that night. Old Stuler's was thronged. Stuler himself looked on
+indifferently, even listlessly. He had heard of Kopf's death.
+
+It was half after five of the afternoon. Six miles beyond the Althofen
+bridge, in all thirteen miles from Bleiberg, a long, low cloud of dust
+hung over the king's highway. This cloud of dust was caused by the
+hurried, rhythmic pad-pad of human feet, the striking of hoofs and
+the wheels of cannon. It marked the progress of an army. To the great
+surprise of the Marshal, the prince and the staff, they had pushed thus
+far during the afternoon without seeing a sign of the enemy. Was Madame
+asleep? Was she so confident her projects were unknown that she had
+chosen night as the time of her attack? Night, indeed, when the strength
+of her forces would be a matter of conjecture to the assaulted, who at
+the suddenness of her approach would succumb to panic! The prince was
+jubilant and hopeful. He had no doubt that they would arrive at the pass
+just as Madame was issuing forth. This meant an easy victory, for once
+the guns covered the narrow pass, though Madame's army were ten times as
+strong, its defeat was certain. A small force might hold it in check for
+hours.
+
+A squadron of cuirassiers had been sent forward to reconnoiter, and as
+yet none had returned with alarms. The road had many windings, and was
+billowed frequently with hills, and ran through small forests. Only the
+vast blue bulk of the mountains remained ever in view.
+
+"We shall drink at the Red Chateau to-night," said the prince, gaily, to
+Maurice.
+
+"That we shall," replied Maurice; "and the best in the cellars."
+
+Only the Marshal said nothing; he knew what war was. In his youth he had
+served in Transylvania, and he was not minded to laugh and jest. Then,
+too, there was injustice on both sides. Poor devil! as his thoughts
+recurred to the king. Touched for the moment by the wings of ambition,
+which is at best a white vulture, he had usurped another's throne, and
+to this end! But he was less answerable than the archbishop, who had
+urged him.
+
+Occasionally he glanced back at the native troops, the foot, the horse,
+the artillery, and scowled. From these his glance wandered to the cold,
+impassive face of General Kronau, who rode at his side, and he rubbed
+his nose. Kronau had been a favorite of Albrecht's... How would he act?
+In truth, the Marshal's thoughts were not altogether pleasant. Some of
+these men surrounding him, exchanging persiflage, might never witness
+another sunset. For, while the world would look upon this encounter as
+one looks upon a comedy, for some it would serve as tragedy. Often he
+lent his ear to the gay banter of the young American, and watched the
+careless smile on his face. What was he doing here? Why was he risking
+his life for no cause whatever, an alien, in natural sympathy neither
+with the kingdom nor with the duchy? A sad, grim smile parted his lips.
+
+"O, the urbanity of the young and the brave!" he murmured.
+
+Maurice felt the old familiar exhilaration--the soldier's
+exhilaration--quicken the beat of his pulse. He did not ask himself
+why he was here; he knew why. A delightful flower had sprung up in his
+heart, and fate had nipped it. Whither this new adventure would lead
+him he cared not. From now on life for him must be renewed by continual
+change and excitement. Since no one depended on him, his life was his
+to dispose of as he willed. Friends? He laughed. He knew the world too
+well. He himself was his best friend, for he had always been true to
+himself.
+
+He might be shot, but he had faced that possibility before. Besides,
+to-day's experience would be new to him. He had never witnessed a battle
+in the open, man to man, in bright, resplendent uniforms. A ragged,
+dusty troop of brown-skinned men in faded blue, with free and easy
+hats, irregular of formation, no glory, no brilliancy, skirmishing
+with outlawed white men and cunning Indians, that was the extent of his
+knowledge by experience. True, these self-same men in dingy blue fought
+with a daring such as few soldiers living possessed; but they lacked the
+ideal picturesqueness which made this army so attractive.
+
+The sharp edges of his recent fatigue were not yet dulled, but his
+cuirass sat lightly upon him, the sound of the dangling saber at his
+side smote pleasantly his ear, and the black Mecklenberg under him
+was strong and active. To return to Madame's chateau in the guise of a
+conqueror was a most engaging thought. She had humbled his self-love,
+now to humble hers! He no longer bothered himself about Beauvais, whose
+case he had placed in the hands of the Austrian ambassador.
+
+Gay and debonair he rode that late September afternoon. No man around
+him had so clear an eye nor so constant a vivacity. Since he had nothing
+but his life to lose, he had no fear. Let the theater be full of light
+while the play lasted, and let the curtain fall to a round of huzzas!
+For a few short hours ago he had kissed a woman's hand and had looked
+into her sad brown eyes. "Why you do this I do not know, nor shall I
+ask. Monsieur, my prayers go with you." Was not that an amulet? His
+diplomatic career! He fell to whistling.
+
+"Ah! que j'aime les militaires!"
+
+More than once the prince felt the sting of envy in his heart at the
+sight of this embodiment of supreme nonchalance. It spoke of a healthy
+salt in the veins, a salt such as kings themselves can not always boast
+of. A foreigner, a republican? No matter; a gallant man.
+
+"Monsieur," he said impulsively, "you shall always possess my
+friendship, once we are well out of this."
+
+"Thanks, your Highness," replied Maurice, and laughing; "the
+after-thought is timely!"
+
+The sun lay close to the western rim of hills; an opal sky encompassed
+the earth; the air was balmy.
+
+"The French call this St. Martin's summer," said Maurice. "In my country
+we call it Indian summer--ah!" lifting in his stirrups.
+
+The army was approaching a hill, when suddenly a whirlwind of dust
+rolled over the summit, and immediately a reconnoitering patrol came
+dashing into view, waving their sabers aloft.... The enemy was less than
+a mile away, and advancing rapidly.
+
+To anticipate. Madame the duchess had indeed contemplated striking the
+blow at night. That morning, like the brave Amazon she was, she had
+pitched her tent in the midst of her army, to marshal and direct its
+forces. It was her intention to be among the first to enter Bleiberg;
+for she was a soldier's daughter, and could master the inherent fears of
+her sex.
+
+That same morning a woman entered the lines and demanded an audience.
+What passed between her and Madame the duchess others never knew. She
+had also been apprised of the prisoners' escape, but, confident that
+they would not be able to make a crossing, she disdained pursuit. The
+prince had missed his wedding day; he was no longer of use to her. As to
+the American, he would become lost, and that would be the end of him.
+
+But the Englishman.... He was conscience eternally barking at her heels.
+The memory of that kiss still rankled in her mind, and not an hour went
+by in which she did not chide herself for the folly. How to get rid of
+him perplexed her. Here he was, in the uniform of a Lieutenant-Colonel,
+ready to go to any lengths at a sign from her. There was something in
+her heart which she had not yet analyzed. First of all, her crown; as to
+her heart, there was plenty of time in which to study that peculiar and
+unstable organ. The possibility of the prince's arriving in Bleiberg
+before her in no way disturbed her. Whenever her attack was made,
+failure would not attend it. She broke camp at two o'clock and took the
+road leisurely toward Bleiberg.
+
+Thus, the two armies faced each other comparatively in the open. A
+battle hung in the air.
+
+The king's forces came to an abrupt halt. Orderlies dashed to and fro.
+The artillery came rumbling and creaking to the front, wheeled, the guns
+unlimbered and ranged so as to enfilade the road. The infantry deployed
+to right and left while the cavalry swung into position on the flanks.
+All this was accomplished with the equanimity of dress parade. Maurice
+could not control his admiration. Madame, he thought, might win her
+crown, but at a pretty cost.
+
+The Marshal and the staff posted themselves on the right breast of the
+hill, from whence, by the aid of binoculars, they could see the enemy.
+From time to time General Kronau nervously smoothed his beard, formed
+his lips into words, but did not utter them, and glanced slyly from
+the corner of his eye at the Marshal, who was intent on the enemy's
+approach. Maurice was trying with naked eye to pierce the forest and the
+rolling ground beyond, and waiting for the roar of the guns.
+
+Orders had been issued for the gunners to get the range and commence
+firing; but as the gunners seemed over long in getting down to work,
+Maurice gazed around impatiently. The blood rushed into his heart. For
+this is what he saw: the infantry leaning indolently on their guns,
+their officers snipping the grasses with their swords; the cuirassiers
+hidden in the bulk of the native cavalry; artillerymen seated carelessly
+on the caissons, and the gunners smoking and leaning against the guns.
+All action was gone, as if by magic; nothing but a strange tableau
+remained! Moreover, a troop of native cavalry, which, for no apparent
+reason, had not joined the main body, had closed in on the general
+staff. Appalled by a sudden thought, Maurice touched the prince, who
+lowered his glasses and turned his head. Bewilderment widened his eyes,
+and the flush on his cheeks died away. He, too, saw.
+
+"Devil's name!" the Marshal burst forth, "why don't the blockheads
+shoot? The enemy--" He stopped, his chin fell, for, as he turned, a
+single glance explained all to him. The red on his face changed into
+a sickly purple, and the glasses slipped from his hands and broke into
+pieces on the stony ground.
+
+"Marshal," began General Kronau, "I respect your age and valiant
+services. That is why we have come thirteen miles. You may keep your
+sword, and also Monsieur the prince. For the present you are prisoners."
+
+For a moment the Marshal was stupefied. His secret fears had been
+realized. Suddenly a hoarse oath issued from his lips, he dragged his
+saber from the scabbard, raised it and made a terrible sweep at the
+General. But the stroke fell on a dozen intervening blades, and the
+Marshal's arms were held and forced to his sides.
+
+"Kronau... you?" he roared. "Betrayed! You despicable coward and
+traitor! You--" But speech forsook him, and he would have fallen from
+the horse but for those who held his arms.
+
+"Traitor?" echoed Kronau, coolly. "To what and to whom? I am serving my
+true and legitimate sovereign. I am also serving humanity, since this
+battle is to be bloodless. It is you who are the traitor. You swore
+allegiance to the duke, and that allegiance is the inheritance of the
+daughter. How have you kept your oath?"
+
+But the Marshal was incapable of answer. One looking at him would have
+said that he was suffering from a stroke of apoplexy.
+
+"I admit," went on the General, not wholly unembarrassed, "that the
+part I play is not an agreeable one to me, but it is preferable to the
+needless loss of human life. The duchess was to have entered Bleiberg
+at night, to save us this present dishonor, if you persist in calling
+it such. But his Highness, who is young, and Monseigneur the archbishop,
+who dreams of Richelieu, made it impossible. No harm is intended to any
+one."
+
+The prince, white and shivering as if with ague, broke his sword on the
+pommel of the saddle and hurled the pieces at Kronau, who permitted them
+to strike him.
+
+"God's witness," the prince cried furiously, "but your victory shall
+be short-lived. I have an army, trusty to the last sword, and you shall
+feel the length of its arm within forty-eight hours."
+
+"Perhaps," said Kronau, shrugging.
+
+"It is already on the way."
+
+"Your Highness forgets that Carnavia belongs to the confederation, and
+that the king, your father, dare not send you troops without the consent
+of the emperor, which, believe me, will never be given;" and he urged
+his horse down the slope.
+
+The army of the duchess had now gained the open. The advance was
+composed of cavalry, which came along the road with wings on either
+side, and with great dash and splendor.
+
+A noisy cheer arose, to be faintly echoed by the oncoming avalanche of
+white horses and dazzling blue uniforms.
+
+This was the incident upon which Madame the duchess relied.
+
+With rage and chagrin in his heart, Maurice viewed the scene. The knell
+of the Osians had been struck. He gazed forlornly at the cuirassiers;
+they at least had come to sell their lives honestly for their bread.
+Presently the two armies came together; all was confusion and cheers.
+Kronau approached the leader of the cavalry.... Maurice was greatly
+disturbed. He leaned toward the prince.
+
+"Your Highness," he whispered, "I am going to make a dash for the road."
+
+"Yes, yes!" replied the prince, intuitively. "My God, yes! Warn her to
+fly, so that she will not be compelled to witness this cursed woman's
+triumph. Save her that humiliation. Go, and God be with you, my friend!
+We are all dishonored. The Marshal looks as if he were dying."
+
+The native troopers, in their eagerness to witness the meeting between
+Kronau and the former Colonel of the cuirassiers, had pushed forward. A
+dozen, however, had hemmed in the Marshal, the prince and Maurice. But
+these were standing in their stirrups. Maurice gradually brought his
+horse about so that presently he was facing north. Directly in front of
+him was an opening. He grasped his saber firmly and pressed the spurs.
+Quick as he was, two sabers barred his way, but he beat them aside, went
+diagonally down the hill, over the stone wall and into the road.
+
+While he was maneuvering for this dash, one man had been eying him with
+satisfaction. As the black horse suddenly sank from view behind the
+hill, Beauvais, to the astonishment of Kronau, drew his revolver.
+
+"There goes a man," he cried, "who must not escape. He is so valuable
+that I shall permit no one but myself to bring him back!" And the
+splendid white animal under him bounded up the hill and down the other
+side.
+
+Beauvais had a well-defined purpose in following alone. He was
+determined that one Maurice Carewe should not bother anyone hereafter;
+he knew too much.
+
+The white horse and the black faded away in the blur of rising dust.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI. A PAGE FROM TASSO
+
+For a long time Maurice rode with his head almost touching the coal
+black mane of his gallant Mecklenberg. Twice he glanced back to see who
+followed, but the volume of dust which rolled after him obscured all
+behind. He could hear the far-off hammer of hoofs, but this, mingling
+with the noise of his own horse, confused him as to the number of
+pursuers. He reasoned that he was well out of range, for there came no
+report of firearms. The road presently described a semi-circle, passing
+through a meager orchard. Once beyond this he turned again in the
+saddle.
+
+"Only one; that is not so bad as it might be. It is one to one." But a
+second glance told him who this solitary pursuer was. "The devil!" he
+laughed--as one of Tasso's heroes might have laughed!--"The devil! how
+that man loves me!" He was confident that the white horse would never
+overtake the black.
+
+On they flew, pursued and pursuer. At length Maurice bit his lip and
+frowned. The white horse was growing larger; the distance between was
+lessening, slowly but certainly.
+
+"Good boy!" he said encouragingly to the Mecklenberg. "Good boy!"
+
+Deserted farm houses swept past; hills rose and vanished, but still the
+white horse crept up, up, up. The distance ere another half mile had
+gone had diminished to four hundred yards; from four hundred it fell to
+three hundred, from three hundred to two hundred. The Mecklenburg was
+doing glorious work, but the marvelous stride of the animal in the
+rear was matchless. Suddenly Maurice saw a tuft of the red plume on his
+helmet spring out ahead of him and sail away, and a second later came
+the report. One, he counted; four more were to follow. Next a stream of
+fire gassed along his cheek, and something warm trickled down the side
+of his neck. Two, he counted, his face now pale and set. The third
+knocked his scabbard into the air.
+
+Quickly he shifted his saber to the left, dropped the reins and drew his
+own revolver. He understood. He was not to be taken prisoner. Beauvais
+intended to kill him offhand. Only the dead keep secrets. Maurice flung
+about and fired three consecutive times. The white horse reared, and the
+shako of his master fell into the dust, but there was no other result.
+As Maurice pressed the trigger for the fourth time the revolver was
+violently wrenched from his hand, and a thousand needles seemed to be
+quivering in the flesh of his arm and hand.
+
+"My God, what a shot!" he murmured. "I am lost!"
+
+Simultaneous with the fifth and last shot came sensation somewhat like
+that caused by a sound blow in the middle of the back. Strange, but
+he felt no pain, neither was there an accompanying numbness. Then he
+remembered his cuirass, which was of steel an eighth of an inch thick.
+It had saved his life. The needles began to leave his right hand and
+arm, and he knew that he had received no injury other than a shock. He
+passed the saber back to his right hand. He had no difficulty in holding
+it. Gradually his grip grew strong and steady.
+
+Beauvais was now within twenty yards of Maurice. Had he been less eager
+and held his fire up to this point, Maurice had been a dead man. The
+white horse gained every moment. A dull fury grew into life in Maurice's
+heart. Instead of continuing the race, he brought the Mecklenberg to his
+haunches and wheeled. He made straight for Beauvais, who was surprised
+at this change of tactics. In the rush they passed each other and the
+steel hummed spitefully through space. Both wheeled again.
+
+"Your life or mine!" snarled Maurice. His coolness, however, was
+proportionate to his rage. For the first time in his life the lust to
+kill seized him.
+
+"It shall be yours, damn you!" replied Beauvais.
+
+"The Austrian ambassador has your history; kill me or not, you are
+lost." Maurice made a sweep at his enemy's head and missed.
+
+Beauvais replied in kind, and it flashed viciously off the point of
+Maurice's saber. He had only his life to lose, but it had suddenly
+become precious to him; Beauvais had not only his life, but all that
+made life worth living. His onslaught was terrible. Besides, he was
+fighting against odds; he wore no steel protector. Maurice wore his only
+a moment longer. A cut in the side severed the lacings, and the sagging
+of the cuirass greatly handicapped him. He pressed the spurs and dashed
+away, while Beauvais cursed him for a cowardly cur. Maurice, by this
+maneuver, gained sufficient time to rid himself of the cumbersome steel.
+What he lost in protection, he gained in lightness and freedom. Shortly
+Beauvais was at him again. The time for banter had passed; they fought
+grimly and silently. The end for one was death. Beauvais knew that if
+his antagonist escaped this time the life he longed for, the power and
+honor it promised, would never be his. On his side, Maurice was equally
+determined to live.
+
+The horses plunged and snorted, reared and swayed and bit. Sometimes
+they carried their masters several yards apart, only to come smashing
+together again.
+
+The sun was going down, and a clear, white light prevailed. Afar in
+the field a herd was grazing, but no one would call them to the sheds.
+Master and mistress had long since taken flight.
+
+The duel went on. Maurice was growing tired. By and by he began to rely
+solely on the defense. When they were close, Beauvais played for the
+point; the moment the space widened he took to the edge. He saw what
+Maurice felt--the weakening, and he indulged in a cruel smile. They
+came close; he made as though to give the point. Maurice, thinking
+to anticipate, reached. Quick as light Beauvais raised his blade and
+brought it down with crushing force, standing the while in the stirrups.
+The blow missed Maurice's head by an inch, but it sank so deeply in his
+left shoulder that it splintered the collar bone and stopped within a
+hair of the great artery that runs underneath.
+
+The world turned red, then black. When it grew light again Maurice
+beheld the dripping blade swinging aloft again. Suddenly the black horse
+snapped at the white, which veered. The stroke which would have split
+Maurice's skull in twain, fell on the rear of the saddle, and the blade
+was so firmly imbedded in the wooden molding that Beauvais could not
+withdraw it at once. Blinded by pain as he was, and fainting, yet
+Maurice saw his chance. He thrust with all his remaining strength at
+the brown throat so near him. And the blade went true. The other's body
+stiffened, his head flew back, his eyes started; he clutched wildly at
+the steel, but his hands had not the power to reach it. A bloody foam
+gushed between his lips; his mouth opened; he swayed, and finally
+tumbled into the road--dead.
+
+As Maurice gazed down at him, between the dead eyes and his own there
+passed a vision of a dark-skinned girl, who, if still living, dwelt in a
+lonely convent, thousands of miles away.
+
+Maurice was sensible of but little pain; a pleasant numbness began to
+steal over him. His sleeve was soaked, his left hand was red, and the
+blood dripped from his fingers and made round black spots in the dust of
+the road. A circle of this blackness was widening about the head of the
+fallen man. Maurice watched it, fascinated... He was dead, and the fact
+that he was a prince did not matter.
+
+It seemed to Maurice that his own body was transforming into lead, and
+he vaguely wondered how the horse could bear up such a weight. He was
+sleepy, too. Dimly it came to him that he also must be dying.... No;
+he would not die there, beside this man. He still gripped his saber.
+Indeed, his hand was as if soldered to the wire and leather windings on
+the hilt. Mollendorf had said that Beauvais was invincible.... Beauvais
+was dead. Was he, too, dying?... No; he would not die there. The
+Mecklenberg started forward at a walk; a spur had touched him.
+
+"No!" Maurice cried, throwing off the drowsiness. "My God, I will not
+die here!... Go, boy!" The Mecklenberg set off, loping easily.
+
+His recent enemy, the great white horse, stood motionless in the center
+of the road, and followed him with large, inquiring eyes. He turned
+and looked at the silent huddled mass in the dust at his feet, and
+whinneyed. But he did not move; a foot still remained in the stirrup.
+
+Soon Maurice remembered an episode of his school days, when, in the
+spirit of precocious research, he had applied carbolic acid to his arm.
+It occurred to him that he was now being bathed in that burning fluid.
+He was recovering from the shock. With returning sense came the increase
+of pain, pain so tormenting and exquisite that sobs rose in his throat
+and choked him. Perspiration matted his hair; every breath he took was
+a knife thrust, and the rise and fall of the horse, gentle as it was,
+caused the earth to reel and careen heavenward.
+
+Bleiberg; he was to reach Bleiberg. He repeated this thought over and
+over. Bleiberg, to warn her. Why should he go to Bleiberg to warn her?
+What was he doing here, he who loved life so well? What had led him into
+this?... There had been a battle, but neither army had been cognizant
+of it. He endeavored to move his injured arm, and found it bereft of
+locomotion. The tendons had been cut. And he could not loosen his grip
+on the saber which he held in his right hand. The bridle rein swung from
+side to side.
+
+Rivulets of fire began to run up and down his side; the cords in his
+neck were stiffening. Still the blood went drip, drip, drip, into the
+dust. Would he reach Bleiberg, or would he die on the way? God! for a
+drink of water, cold water. He set his teeth in his lips to neutralize
+the pain in his arm and shoulder. His lips were numb, and the pressure
+of his teeth was as nothing. From one moment to the next he expected
+to drop from the saddle, but somehow he hung on; the spark of life was
+tenacious. The saber dangled on one side, the scabbard on the other. The
+blood, drying in places, drew the skin as tight as a drumhead.
+
+On, on, on; up long inclines, down the steeps; he lost all track
+of time, and the darkness thickened and the stars stood out more
+clearly.... He could look back on a clean life; true, there were some
+small stains, but these were human. Strange fancies jostled one another;
+faces long forgot reappeared; scenes from boyhood rose before him. Home!
+He had none, save that which was the length and breadth of his native
+land. On, on, on; the low snuffle of the horse sometimes aroused him
+from the stupor.
+
+"Why you do this I do not know, nor shall I ask. Monsieur, my prayers
+go with you!"... She had said that to him, and had given him her hand to
+kiss; a princess, one of the chosen and the few. To live long enough to
+see her again; a final service--and adieu!... Ah, but it had been a good
+fight, a good fight. No fine phrases; nothing but the lust for blood;
+a life for a life; a game in which the winner was also like to lose. A
+gray patch in the white of the road attracted his attention--a bridge.
+
+"Water!" he murmured.
+
+Mottled with the silver of the stars, it ran along through the fields;
+a brook, shallow and narrow, but water. The perfume of the grasses was
+sweet; the horse sniffed joyously. He stopped of his own accord. Maurice
+had strength enough to dismount. The saber slid from his grasp. He
+staggered down to the water. In kneeling a faintness passed over him; he
+rolled into the brook and lay there until the water, almost clogging his
+throat and nostrils, revived him. He crawled to his knees, coughing
+and choking. The contact of the cold with the burning wound caused a
+delightful sensation.
+
+"Water!" he said, and splashed it in his face.
+
+The horse had come down from the road. He had not waited for an
+invitation. He drank thirstily at the side of his master. The water
+gurgled in his long, black throat.
+
+"Good boy!" Maurice called, and dashed water against his shoulder. "Good
+boy!" he remembered that the horse in biting the white one had saved his
+life.
+
+Each handful of the cold liquid caused him to gasp; but soon the fever
+and fire died out, leaving only the duller pain. When he rose from his
+knees, however, he found that the world had not yet ceased its wild
+reeling. He stooped to regain his saber, and fell into the dust; though
+to him it was not he who fell, but the earth which rose. He struggled to
+his feet, leaned panting on his saber, and tried to steady himself. He
+laughed hysterically. He had dismounted, but he knew that he could never
+climb to the back of the horse; and Bleiberg might yet be miles away. To
+walk the distance; was it possible? To reach Bleiberg before Madame....
+Madame the duchess and her army! He laughed again, but there was a wild
+strain in his laughter. Ah, God! what a farce it was! One man dead and
+another dying; the beginning and the end of the war. The comic opera!
+La Grande Duchesse! And the fool of an Englishman was playing Fritz! He
+started down the road, his body slouched forward, the saber trailing in
+the dust....
+
+"Voici le sabre de mon pere!"
+
+The hand of madness had touched him. The Mecklenberg followed at his
+heels as a dog would have followed his master.
+
+Less than a mile away a yellow haze wavered in the sky. It was the
+reflection of the city lights.
+
+Maurice passed under the town gates, the wild song on his lips, his eyes
+bloodshot, his hair dank about his brow, conscious of nothing but the
+mad, rollicking rhythm. Nobody molested him; those he met gave him the
+full width of the road. A strange picture they presented, the man and
+the troop horse. Some one recognized the trappings of the horse; half
+an hour later it was known throughout the city that the king's army
+had been defeated and that Madame was approaching. Students began
+their depredations. They built bonfires. They raided the office of the
+official paper, and destroyed the presses and type. Later they marched
+around the Hohenstaufenplatz, yelling and singing.
+
+Once a gendarme tried to stop Maurice and inquire into his business.
+The inquisition was abruptly ended by a cut from the madman's sword.
+The gendarme took to his legs. Maurice continued, and the Mecklenberg
+tramped on after him. Into the Konigstrasse they turned. At this time,
+before the news was known, the street was deserted. Up the center of
+it the man went, his saber scraping along the asphalt, the horse always
+following.
+
+
+
+Voici le sabre de mon pere! Tu vas le mettre a ton cote! Apres la
+victoire, j'espere Te revoir en bonne sante.....
+
+The street lamps swayed; sometimes a dozen revolved on one post, and
+Maurice would stop long enough to laugh. How easy it was to walk! All
+he had to do was to lift a foot, and the pavement would rise to meet it.
+The moon, standing high behind him, cast a long, weird shadow, and he
+staggered after it and cut at it with the saber. It was only when he saw
+the lights of the royal palace and the great globes on the gate posts
+that sanity returned. This sanity was of short duration.
+
+"To the palace!" he cried; "to the palace! To warn her!" And he stumbled
+against the gates, still calling, "To the palace! To the palace!"
+
+The cuirassiers who had been left behind to protect the inmates of the
+palace, were first aroused by the yelling and singing of the students.
+They rushed out of the guard room and came running to the gates, which
+they opened. The body of a man rolled inside. They stopped and examined
+him; the uniform was theirs. The face they looked into was that of the
+handsome young foreigner who, that day, had gone forth from the city, a
+gay and gallant figure, who sat his horse so well that he earned their
+admiration. What could this mean? And where were the others? Had there
+been a desperate battle?
+
+"Run back to the guard room, one of you, and fetch some brandy. He
+lives." And Lieutenant Scharfenstein took his hand from the insensible
+man's heart. Pulsation was there, but weak and intermittent. "Sergeant,
+take ten men and clear the square. If they refuse to leave, kill! Madame
+is not yet queen by any means."
+
+The men scattered. One soon returned with the brandy. Scharfenstein
+moistened the wounded man's lips and placed his palm under the nose.
+Shortly Maurice opened his eyes, his half-delirious eyes.
+
+"To the palace!" he said, "to the palace--Ah!" He saw the faces staring
+down at him. He struggled. Instinctively they all stood back. What
+seemed incredible to them, he got to his knees, from his knees to his
+feet, and propped himself against a gate post. "Your life or mine!"
+he cried. "Come on; a man can die but once!" He lunged, and again they
+retreated. He laughed. "It was a good fight!" He reeled off toward the
+palace steps. They did not hinder him, but they followed, expecting
+each moment to see him fall. But, he fell not. One by one he mounted
+the steps, steadying himself with the saber. He gained the landing, once
+more steadied himself, and vanished into the palace.
+
+"He is out of his head!" cried Scharfenstein, rushing up the steps. "God
+knows what has happened!"
+
+He was in time to see Maurice lurch into the arms of Captain von Mitter,
+who had barred the way to the private apartments.
+
+"Carewe!... What has happened? God's name, you are soaked in blood!" Von
+Mitter held Maurice at arm's length. "A battle?"
+
+"Aye, a battle; one man is dead and another soon will be!" A transient
+lucidity beamed in Maurice's eyes. "We were betrayed by the native
+troops; they ran to meet Madame.... Marshal Kampf, Prince Frederick, and
+the cuirassiers are prisoners.... I escaped. Beauvais, gave chase....
+Wanted to kill me.... He gave me this. I ran him through the throat....
+Knew him in South America.... He's dead! Inform the archbishop and her
+Highness that Madame is nearing the city. The king--"
+
+"Hush!" said von Mitter, with a finger on his lip; "hush! The king died
+at six o'clock. God rest his soul!" He crossed himself. "A disgraceful
+day! Curse the scheming woman, could she not let us bury him in peace?
+Prince Frederick's father refused to send us aid."
+
+"I am dying," said Maurice with a sob. "Let me lie down somewhere; if I
+fall I am a dead man." After a pause: "Take me into the throne room. I
+shall last till Madame comes. Let her find me there.... The brandy!"
+
+Scharfenstein held the flask to the sufferer's lips.
+
+"The throne room?" repeated von Mitter, surprised at this strange
+request. "Well, why not? For what is a throne when there is no king to
+sit on it? You will not die, my friend, though the cut is a nasty one.
+What is an arm? Life is worth a thousand of them! Quick! help me with
+him, Max!" for Maurice was reaching blindly toward him.
+
+The three troopers who had followed Scharfenstein came up, and the five
+of them managed to carry Maurice into the throne room, and deposit him
+on the cushions at the foot of the dais. There they left him.
+
+"Bad!" said von Mitter, as he came limping out into the corridor. "And
+he made such a brave show when he left here this afternoon. I have grown
+to love the fellow. A gallant man. I knew that the native troops were up
+to something. So did the Colonel. Ach! I would give a year of my life
+to have seen him and Beauvais. To kill Beauvais, the best saber in the
+kingdom--it must have been a fight worthy of the legends. A bad day!
+They will laugh at us. But, patience, the archbishop has something to
+say before the curtain falls. Poor young man! He will lose his arm, if
+not his life."
+
+"But how comes he into all this?" asked Scharfenstein, perplexedly.
+
+"It is not for me or you to question, Max," said von Mitter, looking
+down. He had his own opinion, but he was not minded to disclose it.
+
+"What are you going to do?"
+
+"Perform my duty until the end," sourly. "Go you and help against the
+students, who have not manliness enough even to respect the dead. The
+cowardly servants are all gone; save the king's valet. There are only
+seven of us in all. I will seek the king's physician; the dead are dead,
+so let us concern ourselves with the living;" and he limped off toward
+the private apartments.
+
+Scharfenstein hurried away to the square.
+
+In the royal bedchamber a girl murmured over a cold hand. "God pity me;
+I am all, all alone!"
+
+The archbishop was kneeling at the foot of the bed. In his heart was the
+bitterness of loss and defeat. His dreams of greatness for this clay!
+The worldly pomp which was to have attended it! Life was but a warm
+breath on the mirror of eternity; for one the mirror was clear again.
+
+The square soon grew quiet; the students and the cuirassiers had met for
+the last time. In the throne room shadows and silence prevailed.
+Maurice lay upon the cushions, the hilt of the saber still in his hand.
+Consciousness had returned, a clear, penetrating consciousness. At the
+foot of the throne, he thought, and, mayhap, close to one not visible
+to the human eye! What a checkerboard he had moved upon, and now the
+checkmate! So long as the pain did not diminish, he was content; a
+sudden ease was what he dreaded. Life was struggling to retain its hold.
+He did not wish to die; he was young; there were long years to come; the
+world was beautiful, and to love was the glory over it all. He wondered
+if Beauvais still lay in the road where he had left him. Again he could
+see that red saber swinging high; and he shivered.
+
+Half an hour passed, then came the distant murmur of voices, which
+expanded into tumult. The victorious army, the brave and gallant army,
+had entered the city, and was streaming toward the palaces. Huzzas rose
+amid the blaring of bugles. The timorous came forth and added to the
+noise. The conquerors trooped into the palace, and Madame the duchess
+looked with shining eyes at the throne of her forefathers.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII. WORMWOOD AND LEES
+
+Madame, like a statue of expectancy, riveted her gaze on the throne.
+Hers at last! Her dreams were realized. She was no longer a duchess by
+patent; she was a queen by right of inheritance; she was now to be a
+power among the great. The kingdom of her forefathers was hers. She had
+reached the goal without bloodshed; she had been patient, and this was
+her reward. The blaze of her ambition dimmed all other stars. Her bosom
+heaved, triumph flashed in her beautiful eyes, and a smile parted
+her lips. Her first thought had been to establish headquarters in
+the parlors of the Continental Hotel, and from there to summon the
+archbishop, as a conqueror summons the chief of the vanquished. But no;
+she could not wait; above all things she desired the satisfaction of the
+eye. The throne of her forefathers!
+
+"Mine!" she murmured.
+
+Over her shoulders peered eager faces, in which greed and pleasure and
+impassibility were written. One face, however, had on it the dull red of
+shame. Not until now did the full force of his intended dishonesty
+come home to the Englishman; not until now did he realize the complete
+degradation to which his uniform had lowered him. His had been the hand
+to stay this misfortune, and he had not lifted it. This king had been
+his father's friend; and he had taken up arms against him. O, he had
+begun life badly; he was making the end still more dismal. Would this
+woman ever be his? Her promises were not worth the air that had carried
+them to his ear. He, the consort of a queen? A cold sweat dampened his
+forehead. How he loved her! And that kiss.... Queen or not, he would not
+be her dupe, his would not be a tame surrender.
+
+From the Platz and the Park, where the two armies had bivouacked, came
+an intermittent cheering. The flames of bonfires were reflected on the
+windows, throwing out in dull, yellow relief the faces of Madame and her
+staff.
+
+Between the private apartments of the king and the throne room was
+a wide sliding door. Suddenly this opened and closed. With his back
+against it, a pistol in one hand and a saber in the other, stood Captain
+von Mitter, his face cold and resolute. All eyes were instantly directed
+toward him.
+
+"Captain," said Madame, imperiously, "summon to me Monseigneur the
+archbishop!"
+
+Her command fell on ears of stone. Von Mitter made no sign that he heard
+her.
+
+"Take care, Monsieur," she warned; "I am mistress here. If you will not
+obey me, my officers will."
+
+"Madame, I acknowledge no mistress save the daughter of the king. No one
+shall pass this door to announce your presence to Monseigneur."
+
+This reply was greeted with sundry noises, such as sabers coming from
+scabbards, clicking of pistol locks, and the moving of feet. Madame
+put out her hand suggestively, and the noise ceased. Von Mitter smiled
+disdainfully, but did not stir.
+
+"I warn you, Madame," he said, "that this is war. I accept all the
+responsibilities of my position. I know nothing of any surrender or
+victory. To me you are simply an enemy. I will kill any one who attempts
+to pass. I should be pleased if General Kronau would make the first step
+to question my sincerity."
+
+Kronau's fingers twitched around his revolver, but Madame touched his
+arm. She could read faces. The young Captain was in earnest. She would
+temporize.
+
+"Captain, all here are prisoners of war," she said. "Do not forget that
+soon there will be benefits for those who serve me."
+
+He laughed rudely. "I ask no benefits from your hands, Madame. I would
+rather stand on the corner and beg." He sent an insolent, contemptuous
+glance at Kronau, who could not support it. "And now that you have
+gratified your curiosity, I beg you to withdraw to the street. To-night
+this palace is a tomb, and woe to those who commit sacrilege."
+
+"The king?" she said, struck by a thought which caused a red spot to
+appear on each cheek.
+
+"Is dead. Go and leave us in peace."
+
+The wine which had tasted so sweet was full of lees, and the cup
+wormwood. Madame looked down, while her officers moved uneasily and
+glanced over their shoulders. Kronau brushed his forehead, to find it
+wet. Madame regretted the surrendering to the impulse. Her haste to
+triumph was lacking both in dignity and judgment. She had given the king
+so little place in her thoughts that the shock of his death confused
+her. And there was something in the calm, fearless contempt of the young
+soldier which embarrassed her.
+
+"In that case, Captain," she said, her voice uncertain and constrained,
+"bid Monseigneur to wait on me at the Continental."
+
+"Whenever that becomes convenient, Madame, Monseigneur will certainly
+confer with you and your rascally pack of officers." He longed for some
+one to spring at him; he longed to strike a blow in earnest.
+
+As he leaned against the door he felt it move. He stepped aside.
+The door rolled back, and her Royal Highness, the archbishop and the
+chancellor passed in. The princess's eyes were like dim stars, but
+her fine nostrils palpitated, and her mouth was rigid in disdain. The
+chancellor looked haggard and dispirited, and he eyed all with the
+listlessness of a man who has given up hope. The prelate's face was as
+finely drawn as an ancient cameo, and as immobile. He gazed at Madame
+with one of those looks which penetrate like acid; and, brave as she
+was, she found it insupportable. There was a tableau of short duration.
+
+"Madame," said her Royal Highness, with a noble scorn, "what would you
+say if one desecrated your father's tomb while you were kneeling beside
+it? What would you say? In yonder room my father lies dead, and your
+presence here, in whatever role, is an insult. Are you, indeed, a woman?
+Have you no respect for death and sorrow? Was the bauble so precious to
+your sight that you could not wait till the last rites were paid to
+the dead? Is your heart of stone, your mind devoid of pity and of
+conscience? Are you lacking in magnanimity, which is the disposition of
+great souls? Ah, Madame, you will never be great, for you have stooped
+to treachery and deceit. You, a princess! You have purchased with
+glittering promises that which in time would have been given to you.
+And you will not fulfill these promises, for honesty has no part in your
+affair. Shame on you, Madame. By dishonorable means you have gained this
+room. By dishonorable means you destroyed all those props on which my
+father leaned. You knew that he had not long to live. Had you come to
+me as a woman; had you opened your heart to me and confided your
+desires--Ah, Madame, how gladly would I have listened. Whatever it
+signifies to you, this throne is nothing to me. Had you come then--but,
+no! you must come to demand your rights when I am defenseless. You must
+come with a sword when there is none to defend. Is it possible that in
+our veins there runs a kindred blood? And yet, Madame, I forgive you.
+Rule here, if you will; but remember, between you and your crown
+there will always be the shadow of disgrace. Monsieur," turning toward
+Fitzgerald, whose shame was so great that it engulfed him, "your father
+and mine were friends--I forgive you. Now, Madame, I pray you, go, and
+leave me with my dead."
+
+The girlhood of Princess Alexia was gone forever.
+
+To Madame this rebuke was like hot iron on the flesh. It left her
+without answer. Her proud spirit writhed. Before those innocent eyes her
+soul lay bare, offering to the gaze an ineffaceable scar. For the
+first time she saw her schemes in their true light. Had any served her
+unselfishly? Aye, there was one. And strangely enough, the first thought
+which formed in her mind when chaos was passed, was of him.
+
+How would this rebuke affect her in his eyes? What was he to her that
+she cared for his respect, his opinion, good or bad? What was the
+meaning of the secret dread? How she hated him for his honesty to her;
+for now perforce she must look up to him. She had stepped down from
+the pinnacle of her pride to which she might never again ascend. He
+had kissed her. How she hated him! And yet... Ah, the wine was flat,
+tinctured with the bitterness of gall, and her own greed had forced the
+cup to her lips. She could not remain silent before this girl; she must
+reply; her shame was too deep to resolve itself into silence.
+
+"Mademoiselle," she said, "I beg of you to accept my sympathies; but the
+fortunes of war--"
+
+"Ah, Madame," interrupted the prelate, lifting his white, attenuated
+hand, "we will discuss the fortunes of war--later."
+
+Madame choked back the sudden gust of rage. She glanced covertly at the
+Englishman. But he, with wide-astonished eyes, was staring at the foot
+of the throne, from which gradually rose a terrible figure, covered with
+blood and caked with drying clay. The figure leaned heavily on the hilt
+of a saber, and swayed unsteadily. He drew all eyes.
+
+"Ha!" he said, with a prolonged, sardonic intonation, "is that you,
+Madame the duchess? You are talking of war? What! and you, my lord the
+Englishman? Ha! and war? Look at me, Madame; I have been in a battle,
+the only one fought to-day. Look at me! Here is the mark of that friend
+who watched over your interests. But where is he? Eh? Where? Did you
+pick him up on the way?.... He is dead. For all that he was a rascal,
+he died like a man... .. as presently I shall die! Princes and kings and
+thrones; the one die and the other crumble, but truth lives on. And you,
+Madame, have learned the truth. Shame on your mean and little souls!
+There was only one honest man among you, and you dishonored him. The
+Marshal... I do not see him. An honest man dies but once, but a traitor
+dies a thousand deaths. Kronau... is that your name? It was an
+honest one once. And the paltry ends you gain!.... The grand duchess
+of Gerolstein!.... What a comic opera! Not even music to go by! Eh,
+you,--you Englishman, has Madame made you a Lieutenant?--a Captain?--a
+General? What a farce! Nobles, you? I laugh at you all for a pack of
+thieves, who are not content with the purse, but must add honor to the
+bag. A man is what he makes himself. Medals and clothes, medals and
+clothes; that is the sum of your nobility!" He laughed, but the laughter
+choked in his throat, and he staggered a few paces away from the throne.
+
+"Seize him!" cried Madame.
+
+When the men sprang forward to execute this command, Fitzgerald barred
+the way.
+
+"No," he said doggedly; "you shall not touch him."
+
+"Stand aside, Monsieur," said Madame, determined to vent her rage on
+some one.
+
+"Madame," said von Mitter, "I will shoot down the first man who lays a
+hand on Monsieur Carewe."
+
+The princess, her heart beating wildly at the sudden knowledge that lay
+written on the inner vision, a faintness stealing away her sight, leaned
+back against the prelate.
+
+"He is dying," she whispered; "he is dying for me!"
+
+Maurice was now in the grasp of the final delirium. "Come on!" he cried;
+"come on! I will show you how a brave man can die. Come on, Messieurs
+Medals and Clothes! Aye, who will go out with me?" He raised the saber,
+and it caught the flickering light as it trailed a circle above his
+head. He stumbled toward them, sweeping the air with the blade. Suddenly
+there came a change. He stopped. The wild expression faded from his
+face; a surprised look came instead. The saber slipped from his fingers
+and clanged on the floor. He turned and looked at the princess, and that
+glance conveyed to her the burden of his love. "Mademoiselle...." His
+knees doubled, he sank, rolled face downward, and a dark stain appeared
+and widened on the marble floor.
+
+"Go, Madame," said the prelate. "This palace is indeed a tomb." He felt
+the princess grow limp on his arm. "Go."
+
+"Maurice!" cried Fitzgerald, springing to the side of the fallen man.
+"My God! Maurice!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII. INTO THE HANDS OF AUSTRIA
+
+Madame, surrounded by her staff and courtiers, sat in the main salon
+of the Continental Hotel, waiting for the archbishop. The false,
+self-seeking ministers of Leopold's reign crowded around her to pay
+their respects, to compliment and to flatter her. Already they saw a
+brilliant court; already they were speculating on their appointments.
+Offices were plenty; new embassies were to be created, old embassies to
+be filled anew.
+
+Madame listened to all coldly. There was a canker in her heart, and no
+one who saw that calm, beautiful face of hers dreamed how deeply the
+canker was eating. There were two men who held aloof from compliments
+and flattery. On the face of one rested a moody scowl; on the other,
+agony and remorse. These two men were Colonel Mollendorf and Lord
+Fitzgerald. The same thought occupied each mind; the scene in the throne
+room.
+
+Presently an orderly announced: "Monseigneur the archbishop."
+
+Madame arose, and all looked expectantly, toward the door.
+
+The old prelate entered, his head high and his step firm. He appeared
+to see no one but Madame. But this time she met his glance without a
+tremor.
+
+"Monseigneur," she began, "I have come into my own at last. But for you
+and your ambitious schemes, all this would not have come to pass. You
+robbed my father of his throne and set your puppet there instead. By
+trickery my father was robbed of his lawful inheritance. By trickery I
+was compelled to regain it. However, I do not wish to make an enemy of
+you, Monseigneur. I have here two letters. They come from Rome. In one
+is your recall, in the other a cardinal's hat. Which do you prefer?"
+
+"Surely not the cardinal's hat," said the prelate. "Listen to me,
+Madame, for I have something to say to you which will cause you some
+reflection. If I had any ambitions, they are gone; if I had any dreams,
+they have vanished. Madame, some twenty years ago your duchy was
+created. It was not done to please Albrecht's younger brother, the duke,
+your father. Albrecht was childless. When your father was given the
+duchy it was done to exclude forever the house of Auersperg from
+reigning on this throne. You say that you were tricked; well, and so was
+I. Unhappily I touched the deeper current too late.
+
+"This poor king, who lies silent in the palace, was not my puppet.
+I wished to make him great, and bask in his greatness. But in that I
+failed; because Leopold was a poet and a philosopher, and the greatness
+of earthly things did not concern him. Leopold and I were dupes of
+Austria, as you are at this moment, Madame. So long as Leopold reigned
+peacefully he was not to be disturbed. Had you shown patience and
+resignation, doubtless to-day you would be a queen. You will never be
+more than a duchess.
+
+"Madame, you have done exactly as Austria intended you should. There
+is no longer any kingdom." There was a subdued triumph in his eyes. "To
+you," with a gesture toward the courtiers and office-seekers, "to you I
+shall say, your own blind self-interest has destroyed you. Madame, you
+are bearing arms not against this kingdom, but against Austria, since
+from to-day this land becomes the property of the imperial crown. If you
+struggle, it will be futilely. For, by this move of yours, Austria
+will declare that this kingdom is a menace to the tranquility of the
+confederation. Madame, there is no corner-stone to your edifice. This is
+what I wished to say to you. I have done. Permit me to withdraw."
+
+For a moment his auditors were spellbound; then all the emotions of the
+mind and heart portrayed themselves on the circle of faces. Madame's
+face alone was inscrutable.
+
+"His Excellency, the Austrian ambassador!" announced the orderly.
+
+The archbishop bowed and left the apartment.
+
+"Your Highness," began the Austrian, "his Imperial Majesty commands your
+immediate evacuation of Bleiberg, and that you delay not your departure
+to the frontier. This kingdom is a crown land. It shall remain so by the
+consent of the confederation. If you refuse to obey this injunction,
+an army will enforce the order. Believe me, Madame, this office is
+distasteful to me, but it was not avoidable. What disposition am I to
+submit to his Majesty?"
+
+"Monsieur," she said, "I am without choice in the matter. To pit my
+forces against the emperor's would be neither politic nor sensible. I
+submit." There was not a sign of any emotion, no hint of the terrible
+wrath which lay below the surface of those politely modulated tones. But
+it seemed to her as she stood there, the object of all eyes, that some
+part of her soul had died. Her pride surmounted the humiliation, the
+pride of a woman and a princess. She would show no weakness to the
+world.
+
+"Then, Madame," said the ambassador, suppressing the admiration in his
+eyes at this evidence of royal nonchalance, "I shall inform his Majesty
+at once."
+
+When he had gone, Madame turned coldly to her stricken followers.
+"Messieurs, the fortunes of war are not on our side. I thank you for
+your services. Now leave me; I wish to be alone."
+
+One by one they filed out into the corridors. The orderly was the last
+to leave, and he closed the door behind him. Madame surveyed the room.
+All the curtains were drawn. She was alone. She stood idly fingering the
+papers which lay scattered on the table. Suddenly she lifted her hands
+above her head and clenched them in a burst of silent rage. A dupe!
+doubly a dupe! To-morrow the whole world would laugh at her, and she was
+without means of wreaking vengeance. Presently the woman rose above the
+princess. She sat down, laid her face on her arms and wept.
+
+Fitzgerald stepped from behind one of the curtains. He had taken refuge
+there during the archbishop's speech. He had not the strength to witness
+the final humiliation of the woman he loved. He was gazing out of the
+window at the troops in the Platz when the door closed.
+
+Madame heard the rustle of the curtain and looked up. She sprang to her
+feet, her eyes blazing.
+
+"You?" she cried. "You? You have dared to hide that you might witness my
+weakness and my tears? You...."
+
+"Madame!"
+
+"Go! I hate you!"
+
+"Ah, Madame, we always hate those whom we have wronged. Do not forget
+that I love you, with a love that passes convention."
+
+"Monsieur, I am yet a princess. Did you not hear me bid you go?"
+
+"Why?" in a voice singularly free from agitation. "Because I am the only
+man who has served you unselfishly? Is that the reason, Madame? You have
+laughed at me. I love you. You have broken me. I love you. I can never
+look an honest man in the face again. I love you. Though the shade of
+my father should rise to accuse me, still would I say that I love you.
+Madame, will you find another love like mine, the first love of a man
+who will know no second? Forgive me if I rejoice in your despair, for
+your despair is my hope. As a queen you would be too far away; but in
+your misfortune you come so near! Madame, I shall follow you wherever
+you go to tell you that I love you. You will never be able to shut your
+ears to my voice; far or near, you will always hear me saying that I
+love you. Ambition soars but a little way; love has no fetters. Madame,
+your lips were given to me. Can you forget that?"
+
+"Monsieur, what do you wish?" subdued by the fervor of his tones.
+
+"You! nothing in the world but you."
+
+"Princesses such as I am do not wed for love. What! you take advantage
+of my misfortune, the shattering of my dreams, to force your love upon
+me?"
+
+"Madame," the pride of his race lighting his eyes, "confess to me that
+you did not win my love to play with it. If my heart was necessary to
+your happiness, which lay in these shattered dreams, tell me, and I will
+go. My love is so great that it does not lack generosity."
+
+For reply she sorted the papers and extended a blood-stained packet
+toward him. "Here, Monsieur, are your consols." But the moment his hand
+touched them, she made as though to take them back. On the top of
+the packet was the letter she had written to him, and on which he had
+written his scornful reply to her. She paled as she saw him unfold it.
+
+"So, Madame, my love was a pastime?" He came close to her, and his look
+was like an invisible hand bearing down on her. "Madame, I will go."
+
+"No, no!" she cried, yielding to the impulse which suddenly laid hold
+of her. "Not you! You shall not misjudge me. No, not you! Those consols
+were given to me by the woman of your guide, Kopf, who found them no one
+knows how. They were given to me this morning. That letter..... I did
+not intend that you should see it. No, Monsieur; you shall not misjudge
+the woman, however you judge the princess. Forgive me, it was not the
+woman who sought your love; it was the princess who had need of it.
+
+"I thought it would be but a passing fancy. I did not dream of this end.
+To-morrow I shall be laughed at, and I cannot defend myself as a man
+can. I must submit; I must smile and cover my chagrin. O, Monsieur,
+do not speak to me of love; there is nothing in my heart but rage and
+bitterness. To stoop as I have stooped, and in vain! I am defeated; I
+must remain passive; like a whipped child I am driven away. Talk not of
+love to me. I am without illusion." She fell to weeping, and to him she
+was lovelier in her tears than ever in her smiles. For would she have
+shown this weakness to any but himself, and was it not a sign that he
+was not wholly indifferent to her?
+
+"Madame, what is it?" he cried, on his knees before her. "What is it? Do
+you wish a crown? Find me a kingdom, and I will buy it for you. Be mine,
+and woe to those who dare to laugh! Ah, could I but convince you that
+love is above crowns and kingdoms, the only glimpse we have on earth
+of Paradise. There is no boundary to the dreams; no horizons; a vast,
+beautiful wilderness, and you and I together. There are no storms, no
+clouds. Ambition, the god of schemes, finds no entrance. Ah, how I love
+you! Your face is ever before me, waking or sleeping. All thoughts
+are merged into one, and that is of you. Self has dropped out of my
+existence. Forget that you are a princess; remember only that you are a
+woman, and that I love you."
+
+Love has the key to eloquence. Madame forgot her vanished dreams; the
+bitterness in her heart subsided. That mysterious, indefinable thrill,
+which every woman experiences when a boundless love is laid at her feet,
+passed through her, leaving her sensible to a delicious languor. This
+man was strong in himself, yet weak before her, and from his weakness
+she gained a visible strength. Convention was nothing to him; that she
+was of royal blood was still less. What other man would have dared her
+wrath as he had done?
+
+Nobility, she thought, was based on the observance of certain laws.
+Around the central star were lesser stars, from which the central star
+drew its radiance. Whenever one of these stars deviates from its orbit,
+the glory of the central star is diminished. To accept the love of the
+Englishman would be a blow to the pride of Austria. She smiled.
+
+"Monsieur," she said, in a hesitating voice, "Monsieur, I am indeed a
+woman. You ask me if I can forget that I offered you my lips? No. Nor do
+I wish to. Why did I permit you to kiss me? I do not know. I could not
+analyze the impulse if I tried. Monsieur, I am a woman who demands
+much from those who serve her. I am capricious; my moods vary; I am
+unfamiliar with sentiment; I hate oftener than I love. Listen. There is
+a canker in my heart, made there by vanity. When it heals--well--mayhap
+you will find the woman you desire. Mind you, I make no promises.
+Follow me, if you will, but have patience; love me if you must, but in
+silence;" and with a gesture which was not without a certain fondness,
+she laid her hand upon his head.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX. INTO STILL WATERS AND SILENCE
+
+Into the princess's own chamber they carried Maurice, and laid him on
+the white bed. Thus would she have it. No young man had ever before
+entered that sacred chapel of her maiden dreams. Beside the bed was
+a small prie-dieu; and she knelt upon the cushion and rested her brow
+against the crucifix. The archbishop covered his eyes, and the state
+physician bent his head. Chastity and innocence at the feet of God; yet,
+not even these can hold back the fleeting breath of life. She asked God
+to forgive her the bitterness in her heart; she prayed for strength
+to repel the weakness in her limbs. Presently she rose, an angelic
+sweetness on her face. She looked down at Maurice; there was no sign of
+life, save in the fitful drawing in of the nether lip. She dampened a
+cloth and wiped the sweat of agony from the marble brow.
+
+"O, if only he might live!" she cried. "And he will not?"
+
+"No, your Highness," said the physician. "He has perhaps an hour.
+Extraordinary vitality alone is the cause of his living so long. He has
+lost nearly all the blood in his body. It was a frightful wound. He is
+dying, but he may return to consciousness before the end."
+
+The archbishop, with somber eyes, contemplated the pale, handsome face,
+which lay motionless against the pillow. His thoughts flew back to his
+own youth, to the long years which had filled the gap between. Friends
+had come and gone, loved ones vanished; and still he stood, like an oak
+in the heart of a devastated forest, alone. Why had he been spared,
+and to what end? Ah, how old he was, how very old! To live beyond the
+allotted time, was not that a punishment for some transgression? His
+eyes shone through a mist of tears.
+
+The princess, too, contemplated the face of the dying man. How many
+times had that face accompanied her in her dreams! How familiar she was
+with every line of it, the lips, that turned inward when they smiled;
+the certain lock of hair that fell upon the forehead! And yet, she
+had seen the face in reality less than half a dozen times. Why had it
+entered so persistently into her dreams? Why had the flush risen to her
+cheeks at the thought? At another time she would have refused to listen
+to the voice which answered; but now, as the object of her thoughts
+lay dying on her pillow, her mind would not play truant to her heart.
+Sometimes the approach of love is so imperceptible that it does not
+provoke analysis. We wake suddenly to find it in our hearts, so strong
+and splendid that we submit without question.... All, all her dreams had
+vanished, the latest and the fairest. Across the azure of her youth
+had come and gone a vague, beautiful flash of love. The door of earthly
+paradise had opened and closed. That delicate string which vibrates with
+the joy of living seemed parted; her heart was broken, and her young
+breast a tomb. With straining eyes she continued to gaze. The invisible
+arms of her love clasped Maurice to her heart and held him there. Only
+that day he had stood before her, a delight to the eye; and she had
+given him her hand to kiss. How bravely he had gone forth from the city!
+She had followed him with her ardent gaze until he was no longer to be
+seen. And now he lay dying.... for her.
+
+"Monsieur," she said, turning to the physician, "I have something to say
+to Monseigneur."
+
+The physician bowed and passed into the boudoir, the door of which he
+closed.
+
+"Father," she said to the prelate, "I have no secrets from you." She
+pointed to Maurice. "I love him. I know not why. He comes from a foreign
+land; his language nor his people are mine, and yet the thought of him
+has filled my soul. I have talked to him but four different times; and
+yet I love him. Why? I can not tell. The mind has no power to rule the
+impulse of love. Were he to live, perhaps my love would be a sin. Is it
+not strange, father, that I love him? I have lost parental love; I am
+losing a love a woman holds priceless above all others. He is dying
+because of me. He loves me. I read it in his eyes just before he fell.
+Perhaps it is better for him and for me that he should die, for if he
+lived I could not live without him. Father, do I sin?"
+
+"No, my child," and the prelate closed his eyes.
+
+"I have been so lonely," she said, "so alone. I craved the love of the
+young. He was so different from any man I had met before. His bright,
+handsome face seemed constantly with me."
+
+At this moment Maurice's breast rose and fell in a long sigh. Presently
+the lids of his eyes rolled upward. Consciousness had returned. His
+wandering gaze first encountered the sad, austere visage of the prelate.
+
+"Monseigneur?" he said, faintly.
+
+"Do you wish absolution, my son?"
+
+"I am dying...?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I am dying.... God has my account and he will judge it. I am not a
+Catholic, Monseigneur." He turned his head. "Your Highness?" He roved
+about the room with his eyes and discerned the feminine touch in all the
+appointments.
+
+"Where am I?"
+
+"You are in my room, Monsieur," she said. Her voice broke, but she met
+his eyes with a brave smile. "Is there anything we can do for you?"
+
+"Nothing. I am alone. To die.... Well, one time or another. And yet, it
+is a beautiful world, when we but learn it, full of color and life and
+love. I am young; I do not wish to die. And now... even in the midst...
+to go... where? Monseigneur, I am dying; to me princes and kings signify
+nothing. That is not to say that they ever did. In the presence of death
+we are all equal. Living, I might not speak; dying... since I have but a
+little while to stay... I may speak?"
+
+"Yes, my son, speak. Her Highness will listen."
+
+"It is to her Highness that I wish to speak."
+
+Her lips quivered and she made no secret of her tears. "What is it you
+wish to say to me, Monsieur Carewe?" She smoothed his forehead, and the
+touch of her hand made him forget his pain.
+
+"Ah, I know not how to begin," he said. "Forgive me if I offend your
+ears.... I have been foolish even to dream of it, but I could not help
+it.... When first I saw you in the garden.. the old dog was beside
+you.... Even then it came to me that my future was linked to the thought
+of you. I did not know you were so far beyond.... I was very cold, but
+I dared not let you know it, for fear you would lead me at once to the
+gate. That night wherever I looked I saw you. I strove to think of some
+way to serve you, but I could not. I was so obscure. I never thought
+that you would remember me again; but you did... That afternoon in the
+carriage... I wanted to tell you then. That rose you dropped... it is
+still on my heart. I loved you, and to this end. And I am glad to die,
+for in this short fortnight I have lived.... My mother used to call me
+Maurice ... to hear a woman repeat it again before I go."
+
+"Maurice." She took his hand timidly in hers, and looked at the
+archbishop.
+
+"Speak to him from your heart, my child," said the prelate. "It will
+comfort you both."
+
+Suddenly she drooped and the tears fell upon the hand in hers.
+"Maurice," she whispered, "you have not loved in vain." She could utter
+no more; but she raised her head and looked into his eyes, and he saw
+the glory of the world in hers.
+
+"Into still waters and silence," he said softly. "No more pain, nor joy,
+nor love; silence.... You love me!... Alexia; how often have I repeated
+that name to myself.... I have not strength to lift your hand to my
+lips."
+
+She kissed him on the lips. She felt as if she, too, were dying.
+
+"God guard your Highness," he said. "It is dark.... I do not see you...."
+
+He tried to raise himself, but he could not. He sank back, settled
+deeply into the pillow, and smiled. After that he lay very still.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Puppet Crown, by Harold MacGrath
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+The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Puppet Crown, by Harold MacGrath
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+Title: The Puppet Crown 
+
+Author: Harold MacGrath
+
+Release Date: May, 2002  [Etext #3239]
+[Yes, we are about one year ahead of schedule]
+[The actual date this file first posted = 02/06/01]
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+The Project Gutenberg Etext The Puppet Crown, by Harold MacGrath
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+
+
+THE PUPPET CROWN
+
+by Harold MacGrath
+
+
+
+
+TO THE MEMORY OF THAT GOOD FRIEND
+               AND
+       COMRADE OF MY YOUTH
+            MY FATHER
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+     I. THE SCEPTER WHICH WAS A STICK
+    II. THE COUP D'ETAT OF COUSIN JOSEF
+   III. AN EPISODE TEN YEARS AFTER
+    IV. AN ADVENTURE WITH ROYALTY
+     V. BEHIND THE PUPPET BOOTH
+    VI. MADEMOISELLE OF THE VEIL
+   VII. SOME DIALOGUE, AN SPRAINED ANKLE, AND SOME SOLDIERS
+  VIII. THE RED CHATEAU
+    IX. NOTHING MORE SERIOUS THAN A HOUSE PARTY
+     X. BEING OF LONG RIDES, MAIDS, KISSES AND MESSAGES
+    XI. THE DENOUEMENT
+   XII. WHOM THE GODS DESTROY AND A FEW OTHERS
+  XIII. BEING OF COMPLICATIONS NOT RECKONED ON
+   XIV. QUI M'AIME, AIME MON CHIEN
+    XV. IN WHICH FORTUNE BECOMES CARELESS AND PRODIGAL
+   XVI. WHAT HAPPENED AT THE ARCHBISHOP'S PLACE AND AFTER
+  XVII. SOME PASSAGES AT ARMS
+ XVIII. A MINOR CHORD AND A CHANGE OF MOVEMENT
+   XIX. A CHANCE RIDE IN THE NIGHT
+    XX. THE LAST STAND OF A BAD SERVANT
+   XXI. A COURT FETE AT THE RED CHATEAU
+  XXII. IN WHICH MAURICE RECURS TO OFFENBACH
+ XXIII. A GAME OF POKER AND THE STAKES
+  XXIV. THE PRISONER OF THE RED CHATEAU
+   XXV. THE FORTUNES OF WAR
+  XXVI. A PAGE FORM TASSO
+ XXVII. WORMWOOD AND LEES
+XXVIII. INTO THE HANDS OF AUSTRIA
+  XXIX. INTO STILL WATERS AND SILENCE
+
+
+
+
+Ah Love! Could you and I with Him conspire
+To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire
+  Would not we shatter it to bits--and then
+Re-mold it nearer to the Heart's desire!
+
+                - Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE SCEPTER WHICH WAS A STICK
+
+The king sat in his private garden in the shade of a potted 
+orange tree, the leaves of which were splashed with brilliant 
+yellow. It was high noon of one of those last warm sighs of 
+passing summer which now and then lovingly steal in between the 
+chill breaths of September. The velvet hush of the mid-day hour 
+had fallen.
+
+There was an endless horizon of turquoise blue, a zenith 
+pellucid as glass. The trees stood motionless; not a shadow 
+stirred, save that which was cast by the tremulous wings of a 
+black and purple butterfly, which, near to his Majesty, fell, 
+rose and sank again. From a drove of wild bees, swimming hither 
+and thither in quest of the final sweets of the year, came a low 
+murmurous hum, such as a man sometimes fancies he hears while 
+standing alone in the vast auditorium of a cathedral.
+
+The king, from where he sat, could see the ivy-clad towers of 
+the archbishop's palace, where, in and about the narrow windows, 
+gray and white doves fluttered and plumed themselves. The garden 
+sloped gently downward till it merged into a beautiful lake 
+called the Werter See, which, stretching out several miles to 
+the west, in the heart of the thick-wooded hills, trembled like 
+a thin sheet of silver.
+
+Toward the south, far away, lay the dim, uneven blue line of the 
+Thalian Alps, which separated the kingdom that was from the 
+duchy that is, and the duke from his desires. More than once the 
+king leveled his gaze in that direction, as if to fathom what 
+lay behind those lordly rugged hills.
+
+There was in the air the delicate odor of the deciduous leaves 
+which, every little while, the king inhaled, his eyes half-
+closed and his nostrils distended. Save for these brief moments, 
+however, there rested on his countenance an expression of 
+disenchantment which came of the knowledge of a part ill-played, 
+an expression which described a consciousness of his unfitness 
+and inutility, of lethargy and weariness and distaste.
+
+To be weary is the lot of kings, it is a part of their royal 
+prerogative; but it is only a great king who can be weary 
+gracefully. And Leopold was not a great king; indeed, he was 
+many inches short of the ideal; but he was philosophical, and by 
+the process of reason he escaped the pitfalls which lurk in the 
+path of peevishness.
+
+To know the smallness of the human atom, the limit of desire, 
+the existence of other lives as precious as their own, is not 
+the philosophy which makes great kings. Philosophy engenders 
+pity; and one who possesses that can not ride roughshod over men,
+and that is the business of kings.
+
+As for Leopold, he would rather have wandered the byways of Kant 
+than studied royal etiquette. A crown had been thrust on his 
+head and a scepter into his hand, and, willy-nilly, he must wear 
+the one and wield the other. The confederation had determined 
+the matter shortly before the Franco-Prussian war.
+
+The kingdom that was, an admixture of old France and newer 
+Austria, was a gateway which opened the road to the Orient, and 
+a gateman must be placed there who would be obedient to the will 
+of the great travelers, were they minded to pass that way. That 
+is to say, the confederation wanted a puppet, and in Leopold 
+they found a dreamer, which served as well. That glittering bait,
+a crown, had lured him from his peaceful Osian hills and 
+valleys, and now he found that his crown was of straw and his 
+scepter a stick.
+
+He longed to turn back, for his heart lay in a tomb close to his 
+castle keep, but the way back was closed. He had sold his 
+birthright. So he permitted his ministers to rule his kingdom 
+how they would, and gave himself up to dreams. He had been but a 
+cousin of the late king, whereas the duke of the duchy that is 
+had been a brother. But cousin Josef was possessed of red hair 
+and a temper which was redder still, and, moreover, a 
+superlative will, bending to none, and laughing at those who 
+tried to bend him.
+
+He would have been a king to the tip of his fiery hair; and it 
+was for this very reason that his subsequent appeals for justice 
+and his rights fell on unheeding ears. The confederation feared 
+Josef; therefore they dispossessed him. Thus Leopold sat on the 
+throne, while his Highness bit his nails and swore, impotent to 
+all appearances.
+
+Leopold leaned forward from his seat. In his hand he held a 
+riding stick with which he drew shapeless pictures in the yellow 
+gravel of the path. His brows were drawn over contemplative eyes,
+and the hint of a sour smile lifted the corners of his lips. 
+Presently the brows relaxed, and his gaze traveled to the 
+opposite side of the path, where the British minister sat in the 
+full glare of the sun.
+
+In the middle of the path, as rigid as a block of white marble, 
+reposed a young bulldog, his moist black nose quivering under 
+the repeated attacks of a persistent insect. It occurred to the 
+king that there was a resemblance between the dog and his master,
+the Englishman. The same heavy jaws were there, the same 
+fearless eyes, the same indomitable courage for the prosecution 
+of a purpose.
+
+A momentary regret passed through him that he had not been 
+turned from a like mold. Next his gaze shifted to the end of the 
+path, where a young Lieutenant stood idly kicking pebbles, his 
+cuirass flaming in the dazzling sunshine. Soon the drawing in 
+the gravel was resumed.
+
+The British minister made little of the three-score years which 
+were closing in on him, after the manner of an army besieging a 
+citadel. He was full of animal exuberance, and his eyes, a 
+trifle faded, it must be admitted, were still keenly alive and 
+observant. He was big of bone, florid of skin, and his hair--
+what remained of it--was wiry and bleached. His clothes, 
+possibly cut from an old measure, hung loosely about the girth--
+a sign that time had taken its tithe. For thirty-five years he 
+had served his country by cunning speeches and bursts of fine 
+oratory; he had wandered over the globe, lulling suspicions here 
+and arousing them there, a prince of the art of diplomacy.
+
+He had not been sent here to watch this kingdom. He was touching 
+a deeper undercurrent, which began at St. Petersburg and moved 
+toward Central Asia, Turkey and India, sullenly and irresistibly.
+And now his task was done, and another was to take his place, 
+to be a puppet among puppets. He feared no man save his valet, 
+who knew his one weakness, the love of a son on whom he had shut 
+his door, which pride forbade him to open. This son had chosen 
+the army, when a fine diplomatic career had been planned--a 
+small thing, but it sufficed. Even now a word from an humbled 
+pride would have reunited father and son, but both refused to 
+speak this word.
+
+The diplomat in turn watched the king as he engaged in the 
+aimless drawing. His meditation grew retrospective, and his 
+thoughts ran back to the days when he first befriended this 
+lonely prince, who had come to England to learn the language and 
+manners of the chill islanders. He had been handsome enough in 
+those days, this Leopold of Osia, gay and eager, possessing an 
+indefinable charm which endeared him to women and made him 
+respected of men. To have known him then, the wildest stretch of 
+fancy would never have placed him on this puppet throne, 
+surrounded by enemies, menaced by his adopted people, rudderless 
+and ignorant of statecraft.
+
+"Fate is the cup," the diplomat mused, "and the human life the 
+ball, and it's toss, toss, toss, till the ball slips and falls 
+into eternity." Aloud he said, "Your Majesty seems to be well 
+occupied."
+
+"Yes," replied the king, smiling. "I am making crowns and 
+scratching them out again-- usurping the gentle pastime of their 
+most Christian Majesties, the confederation. A pretty bauble is 
+a crown, indeed--at a distance. It is a fine thing to wear one--
+in a dream. But to possess one in the real, and to wear it day 
+by day with the eternal fear of laying it down and forgetting 
+where you put it, or that others plot to steal it, or that you 
+wear it dishonestly--Well, well, there are worse things than a 
+beggar's crust."
+
+"No one is honest in this world, save the brute," said the 
+diplomat, touching the dog with his foot. "Honesty is 
+instinctive with him, for he knows no written laws. The gold we 
+use is stamped with dishonesty, notwithstanding the beautiful 
+mottoes; and so long as we barter and sell for it, just so long 
+we remain dishonest. Yes, you wear your crown dishonestly but 
+lawfully, which is a nice distinction. But is any crown worn 
+honestly? If it is not bought with gold, it is bought with lies 
+and blood. Sire, your great fault, if I may speak, is that you 
+haven't continued to be dishonest. You should have filled your 
+private coffers, but you have not done so, which is a strange 
+precedent to establish. You should have increased taxation, but 
+you have diminished it; you should have forced your enemy's hand 
+four years ago, when you ascended the throne, but you did not; 
+and now, for all you know, his hand may be too strong. Poor, 
+dishonest king! When you accepted this throne, which belongs to 
+another, you fell as far as possible from moral ethics. And now 
+you would be honest and be called dull, and dream, while your 
+ministers profit and smile behind your back. I beg your 
+Majesty's pardon, but you have always requested that I should 
+speak plainly."
+
+The king laughed; he enjoyed this frank friend. There was an 
+essence of truth and sincerity in all he said that encouraged 
+confidence.
+
+"Indeed, I shall be sorry to have you go tomorrow," he said, "for
+I believe if you stayed here long enough you would truly make a
+king of me. Be frank, my friend, be always frank; for it is only
+on the base of frankness that true friendship can rear itself."
+
+"You are only forty-eight," said the Englishman; "you are young."
+
+"Ah, my friend," replied the king with a tinge of sadness, "it 
+is not the years that age us; it is how we live them. In the 
+last four years I have lived ten. To-day I feel so very old! I 
+am weary of being a king. I am weary of being weary, and for 
+such there is no remedy. Truly I was not cut from the pattern of 
+kings; no, no. I am handier with a book than with a scepter; I'd 
+liever be a man than a puppet, and a puppet I am--a figurehead 
+on the prow of the ship, but I do not guide it. Who care for me 
+save those who have their ends to gain? None, save the archbishop,
+who yet dreams of making a king of me. And these are not my people
+who surround me; when I die, small care. I shall have left in the
+passing scarce a finger mark in the dust of time."
+
+"Ah, Sire, if only you would be cold, unfriendly, avaricious. Be 
+stone and rule with a rod of iron. Make the people fear you, 
+since they refuse to love you; be stone."
+
+"You can mold lead, but you can not sculpture it; and I am lead."
+
+"Yes; not only the metal, but the verb intransitive. Ah, could 
+the fires of ambition light your soul!"
+
+"My soul is a blackened grate of burnt-out fires, of which only 
+a coal remains."
+
+And the king turned in his seat and looked across the crisp 
+green lawns to the beds of flowers, where, followed by a maid at 
+a respectful distance, a slim young girl in white was cutting 
+the hardy geraniums, dahlias and seed poppies.
+
+"God knows what her legacy will be!"
+
+"It is for you to make it, Sire."
+
+Both men continued to remark the girl. At length she came toward 
+them, her arms laden with flowers. She was at the age of ten, 
+with a beautiful, serious face, which some might have called 
+prophetic. Her hair was dark, shining like coal and purple, and 
+gossamer in its fineness; her skin had the blue-whiteness of 
+milk; while from under long black lashes two luminous brown eyes 
+looked thoughtfully at the world. She smiled at the king, who 
+eyed her fondly, and gave her unengaged hand to the Englishman, 
+who kissed it.
+
+"And how is your Royal Highness this fine day? he asked, patting 
+the hand before letting it go.
+
+"Will you have a dahlia, Monsieur?" With a grave air she 
+selected a flower and slipped it through his button-hole.
+
+"Does your Highness know the language of the flowers?" the 
+Englishman asked.
+
+"Dahlias signify dignity and elegance; you are dignified, 
+Monsieur, and dignity is elegance."
+
+"Well!" cried the Englishman, smiling with pleasure; "that is 
+turned as adroitly as a woman of thirty."
+
+"And am I not to have one?" asked the king, his eyes full of 
+paternal love and pride.
+
+"They are for your Majesty's table," she answered.
+
+"Your Majesty!" cried the king in mimic despair. "Was ever a 
+father treated thus? Your Majesty! Do you not know, my dear, 
+that to me 'father' is the grandest title in the world?"
+
+Suddenly she crossed over and kissed the king on the cheek, and 
+he held her to him for a moment.
+
+The bulldog had risen, and was wagging his tail the best he knew 
+how. If there was any young woman who could claim his unreserved 
+admiration, it was the Princess Alexia. She never talked 
+nonsense to him in their rambles together, but treated him as he 
+should be treated, as an animal of enlightenment.
+
+"And here is Bull," said the princess, tickling the dog's nose 
+with a scarlet geranium.
+
+"Your Highness thinks a deal of Bull?" said the dog's master.
+
+"Yes, Monsieur, he doesn't bark, and he seems to understand all 
+I say to him."
+
+The dog looked up at his master as if to say: "There now, what 
+do you think of that?"
+
+"To-morrow I am going away," said the diplomat, "and as I can 
+not very well take Bull with me, I give him to you."
+
+The girl's eyes sparkled. "Thank you, Monsieur, shall I take him 
+now?"
+
+"No, but when I leave your father. You see, he was sent to me by 
+my son who is in India. I wish to keep him near me as long as 
+possible. My son, your Highness, was a bad fellow. He ran away 
+and joined the army against my wishes, and somehow we have never 
+got together again. Still, I've a sneaking regard for him, and I 
+believe he hasn't lost all his filial devotion. Bull is, in a 
+way, a connecting link."
+
+The king turned again to the gravel pictures. These Englishmen 
+were beyond him in the matter of analysis. Her Royal Highness 
+smiled vaguely, and wondered what this son was like. Once more 
+she smiled, then moved away toward the palace. The dog, seeing 
+that she did not beckon, lay down again. An interval of silence 
+followed her departure. The thought of the Englishman had 
+traveled to India, the thought of the king to Osia, where the 
+girl's mother slept. The former was first to rouse.
+
+"Well, Sire, let us come to the business at hand, the subject of 
+my last informal audience. It is true, then, that the consols 
+for the loan of five millions of crowns are issued to-day, or 
+have been, since the morning is passed?"
+
+"Yes, it is true. I am well pleased. Jacobi and Brother have 
+agreed to place them at face value. I intend to lay out a park 
+for the public at the foot of the lake. That will demolish two 
+millions and a half. The remainder is to be used in city 
+improvements and the reconstruction of the apartments in the 
+palace, which are too small. If only you knew what a pleasure 
+this affords me! I wish to make my good city of Bleiberg a thing 
+of beauty --parks, fountains, broad and well paved streets."
+
+"The Diet was unanimous in regard to this loan?"
+
+"In fact they suggested it, and I was much in favor."
+
+"You have many friends there, then?"
+
+"Friends?" The king's face grew puzzled, and its animation faded 
+away. "None that I know. This is positively the first time we 
+ever agreed about anything."
+
+"And did not that strike you as rather singular?"
+
+"Why, no."
+
+"Of course, the people are enthusiastic, considering the old 
+rate of taxation will be renewed?" The diplomat reached over and 
+pulled the dog's ears.
+
+"So far as I can see," answered the king, who could make nothing 
+of this interrogatory.
+
+"Which, if your Majesty will pardon me, is not very far beyond 
+your books."
+
+"I have ministers."
+
+"Who can see farther than your Majesty has any idea."
+
+"Come, come, my friend," cried the king good-naturedly; "but a 
+moment gone you were chiding me because I did nothing. I may not 
+fill my coffers as you suggested, but I shall please my eye, 
+which is something. Come; you have something to tell me."
+
+"Will your Majesty listen?"
+
+"I promise."
+
+"And to hear?"
+
+"I promise not only to listen, but to hear," laughing; "not only 
+to hear, but to think. Is that sufficient?"
+
+"For three years," began the Englishman, "I have been England's 
+representative here. As a representative I could not meddle with 
+your affairs, though it was possible to observe them. To-day I 
+am an unfettered agent of self, and with your permission I shall 
+talk to you as I have never talked before and never shall again."
+
+The diplomat rose from his seat and walked up and down the path, 
+his hands clasped behind his back, his chin in his collar. The 
+bulldog yawned, stretched himself, and followed his master, 
+soberly and thoughtfully. After a while the Englishman returned 
+to his chair and sat down. The dog gravely imitated him. He 
+understood, perhaps better than the king, his master's mood. 
+This pacing backward and forward was always the forerunner of 
+something of great importance.
+
+During the past year he had been the repository of many a secret.
+Well, he knew how to keep one. Did not he carry a secret which 
+his master would have given much to know? Some one in far away 
+India, after putting him into the ship steward's care, had 
+whispered: "You tell the governor that I think just as much of 
+him as ever." He had made a desperate effort to tell it the 
+moment he was liberated from the box, but he had not yet 
+mastered that particular language which characterized his 
+master's race.
+
+"To begin with," said the diplomat, "what would your Majesty say 
+if I should ask permission to purchase the entire loan?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+THE COUP D'ETAT OF COUSIN JOSEF
+
+The king, who had been leaning forward, fell back heavily in his 
+seat, his eyes full wide and his mouth agape. Then, to express 
+his utter bewilderment, he raised his hands above his head and 
+limply dropped them.
+
+"Five millions of crowns?" he gasped.
+
+"Yes; what would your Majesty say to such a proposition?" 
+complacently.
+
+"I should say," answered the king, with a nervous laugh, "that 
+my friend had lost his senses, completely and totally."
+
+"The fact is," the Englishman declared, "they were never keener 
+nor more lucid than at this present moment."
+
+"But five millions!"
+
+"Five millions; a bagatelle," smiling.
+
+"Certainly you can not be serious, and if you were, it is out of 
+the question. Death of my life! The kingdom would be at my ears. 
+The people would shout that I was selling out to the English, 
+that I was putting them into the mill to grind for English sacks."
+
+"Your Majesty will recollect that the measure authorizing this 
+loan was rather a peculiar one. Five millions were to be 
+borrowed indiscriminately, of any man or body of men willing to 
+advance the money on the securities offered. First come, first 
+served, was not written, but it was implied. It was this which 
+roused my curiosity, or cupidity, if you will."
+
+"I can not recollect that the bill was as you say," said the 
+king, frowning.
+
+"I believe you. When the bill came to you, you were not expected 
+to recollect anything but the royal signature. Have you read 
+half of what you have signed and made law? No. I am serious. 
+What is it to you or to the people, who secures this public 
+mortgage, so long as the money is forthcoming? I desire to 
+purchase at face value the twenty certificates."
+
+"As a representative of England?"
+
+The diplomat smiled. The king's political ignorance was well 
+known. "As a representative of England, Sire, I could not 
+purchase the stubs from which these certificates are cut. And 
+then, as I remarked, I am an unfettered agent of self. The 
+interest at two per cent. will be a fine income on a lump of 
+stagnant money. Even in my own country, where millionaires are 
+so numerous as to be termed common, I am considered a rich man. 
+My personal property, aside from my estates, is five times the 
+amount of the loan. A mere bagatelle, if I may use that 
+pleasantry."
+
+"Impossible, impossible!" cried the king, starting to his feet, 
+while a line of worry ran across his forehead. He strode about 
+impatiently slapping his boots with the riding stick. "It is 
+impossible."
+
+"Why do you say impossible, Sire?"
+
+"I can not permit you to put in jeopardy a quarter of a million 
+pounds," forgetting for the moment that he was powerless.
+
+"Aha!" the diplomat cried briskly. "There is, then, beneath your 
+weariness and philosophy, a fear?"
+
+"A fear?" With an effort the king smoothed the line from his 
+forehead. "Why should there be fear?"
+
+"Why indeed, when our cousin Josef--" He stopped and looked 
+toward the mountains.
+
+"Well?" abruptly.
+
+"I was thinking what a fine coup de maitre it would be for his 
+Highness to gather in all these pretty slips of parchment given 
+under the hand of Leopold."
+
+"Small matter if he should. I should pay him." The king sat down.
+"And it is news to me that Josef can get together five millions."
+
+"He has friends, rich and powerful friends."
+
+"No matter, I should pay him."
+
+"Are you quite sure?"
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"The face of the world changes in the course of ten years. Will 
+there be five millions in your treasury ten years hence?"
+
+"The wealth of my kingdom is not to be questioned," proudly, 
+"nor its resources."
+
+"But in ten years, with the ministers you have?" The Englishman 
+shrugged doubtfully. "Why have you not formed a new cabinet of 
+younger men? Why have you retained those of your predecessor, 
+who are your natural enemies? You have tried and failed."
+
+The expression of weariness returned to the king's face. He knew 
+that all this was but a preamble to something of deeper 
+significance. He anticipated what was forming in the other's 
+mind, but he wished to avoid a verbal declaration. O, he knew 
+that there was a net of intrigue enmeshing him, but it was so 
+very fine that he could not pick up the smallest thread whereby 
+to unravel it. Down in his soul he felt the shame of the 
+knowledge that he dared not. A dreamer, rushing toward the 
+precipice, would rather fall dreaming than waken and struggle 
+futilely.
+
+"My friend," he said, finally, sighing, "proceed. I am all 
+attention."
+
+"I never doubted your Majesty's perspicacity. You do not know, 
+but you suspect, what I am about to disclose to you. My hope is 
+that, when I am done, your Majesty will throw Kant and the rest 
+of your philosophers out of the window. The people are sullen at 
+the mention of your name, while they cheer another. There is an 
+astonishing looseness about your revenues. The reds and the 
+socialists plot for revolution and a republic, which is a thin 
+disguise for a certain restoration. Your cousin the duke visits 
+you publicly twice each year. He has been in the city a week at 
+a time incognito, yet your minister of police seems to know 
+nothing." The speaker ceased, and fondled the dahlia in his 
+button-hole.
+
+The king, noting the action, construed it as the subtle old 
+diplomat intended he should. "Yes, yes! I am a king only for her 
+sake. Go on. Tell me all."
+
+"The archbishop and the chancellor are the only friends you 
+possess. The Marshal, from personal considerations merely, 
+remains neutral. Your army, excepting the cuirassiers, are 
+traitors to your house. The wisest thing you have done was to 
+surround yourself with this mercenary body, whom you call the 
+royal cuirassiers, only, instead of three hundred, you should 
+have two thousand. Self-interest will make them true to you. You 
+might find some means to pay them, for they would be a good 
+buffer between you and your enemies. The president of the Diet 
+and the members are passing bills which will eventually 
+undermine you. How long it will take I can not say. But this 
+last folly, the loan, which you could have got on without, caps 
+the climax. The duke was in the city last week unknown to you. 
+Your minister of finance is his intimate. This loan was a 
+connivance of them all. Why ten years, when it could easily be 
+liquidated in five? I shall tell you. The duke expects to force 
+you into bankruptcy within that time, and when the creditor 
+demands and you can not pay, you will be driven from here in 
+disgrace.
+
+"And where will you go? Certainly not to Osia, since you traded 
+it for this throne. It was understood, when you assumed the 
+reign, that the finances of the kingdom would remain 
+unimpeachable. Bankrupt, the confederation will be forced to 
+disavow you. They will be compelled to restore the throne to 
+your enemy, who, believe me, is most anxious to become your 
+creditor.
+
+"This is an independent state,--conditionally. "The 
+confederation have formed themselves into a protectorate. Why? I 
+can only guess. One or more of them covet these beautiful lands. 
+What are ten years to Josef, when a crown is the goal? Your 
+revenues are slowly to decline, there will be internal troubles 
+to eat up what money you have in the treasury. O, it is a plot 
+so fine, so swiftly conceived, so cunningly devised that I would 
+I were twenty years younger, to fight it with you! But I am old. 
+My days for acting are past. I can only advise. He was sure of 
+his quarry, this Josef whose hair is of many colors. Had you 
+applied to the money syndicates of Europe, the banks of England, 
+France, Germany, or Austria, your true sponsor, the result would 
+always be the same: your ruin. Covertly I warned you not to sign;
+you laughed and signed. A trap was there, your own hand opened 
+it. How they must have laughed at you! If you attempt to 
+repudiate your signature the Diet has power to overrule you.
+
+"Truly, the shade of Macchiavelli masks in the garb of your 
+cousin. I admire the man's genius. This is his throne by right 
+of inheritance. I do not blame him. Only, I wish to save you. If 
+you were alone, why, I do not say that I should trouble myself, 
+for you yourself would not be troubled. But I have grown to love 
+that child of yours. It is all for her. Do you now understand 
+why I make the request? It appears Quixotic? Not at all. Put my 
+money in jeopardy? Not while the kingdom exists. If you can not 
+pay back, your kingdom will. Perhaps you ask what is the 
+difference, whether I or the duke becomes your creditor? This: 
+in ten years I shall be happy to renew the loan. In ten years, 
+if I am gone, there will be my son. You wonder why I do this. I 
+repeat it is for your daughter. And perhaps," with a dry smile, 
+"it is because I have no love for Josef."
+
+"I will defeat him!" cried the king, a fire at last shining in 
+his eyes.
+
+"You will not."
+
+"I will appeal to the confederation and inform them of the plot."
+
+"The resource of a child! They would laugh at you for your pains.
+For they are too proud of their prowess in statecraft to 
+tolerate a suspicion that your cousin is a cleverer man than all 
+of them put together. There remains only one thing for you to do."
+
+"And what is that?" wearily.
+
+"Accept my friendship at its true value."
+
+The king made no reply. He set his elbows on the arms of the 
+rustic seat, interlaced his fingers and rested his chin on them, 
+while his booted legs slid out before him. His meditation 
+lengthened into several minutes. The diplomat evinced no sign of 
+impatience.
+
+"Come with me," said the king, rising quickly. "I will no longer 
+dream. I will act. Come."
+
+The diplomat nodded approvingly; and together they marched 
+toward the palace. The bulldog trotted on behind, his pink 
+tongue lolling out of his black mouth, a white tusk or two 
+gleaming on each side. The Lieutenant of the cuirassiers saluted 
+as they passed him, and, when they had gone some distance, swung 
+in behind. He observed with some concern that his Majesty was 
+much agitated.
+
+The business of the kingdom, save that performed in the Diet, 
+was accomplished in the east wing of the palace; the king's 
+apartments, aside from the state rooms, occupied the west wing. 
+It was to the business section that the king conducted the 
+diplomat. In the chamber of finance its minister was found busy 
+at his desk. He glanced up casually, but gave an ejaculation of 
+surprise when he perceived who his visitors were.
+
+"O, your Majesty!" he cried, bobbing up and running out his 
+chair. "Good afternoon, your Excellency," to the Englishman, 
+adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses, through which his eyes shone 
+pale and cold.
+
+The diplomat bowed. The little man reminded him of M. Thiers, 
+that effervescence of soda tinctured with the bitterness of iron.
+He understood the distrust which Count von Wallenstein 
+entertained for him, but he was not distrustful of the count. 
+Distrust implies uncertainty, and the Englishman was not the 
+least uncertain as to his conception of this gentleman of 
+finance.
+
+There were few men whom the count could not interpret; one stood 
+before him. He could not comprehend why England had sent so 
+astute a diplomat and politician to a third-rate kingdom. Of 
+that which we can not understand we are suspicious, and the 
+guilty are distrustful. Neither the minister of police nor his 
+subordinates could fathom the purpose of this calm, dignified 
+old man with the difficult English name.
+
+"Count," began the king, pleasantly, "his Excellency here has 
+made a peculiar request."
+
+"And what might that be, Sire?"
+
+"He offers to purchase the entire number of certificates issued 
+to-day for our loan."
+
+"Five millions of crowns?"  The minister's astonishment was so 
+genuine that in jerking back his head his glasses slipped from 
+his nose and dangled on the string.
+
+The Englishman bowed again, the wrinkle of a smile on his face.
+
+"I would not believe him serious at first, count," said the king,
+laughing easily, "but he assured me that he is. What can be 
+done about it?"
+
+"O, your Majesty," cried the minister, excitedly, "it would not 
+be politic. And then the measure--"
+
+"Is it possible that I have misconstrued its import?" the 
+diplomat interposed with a fine air of surprise.
+
+"You are familiar--" began the count, hesitatingly.
+
+"Perfectly; that is, I believe so."
+
+"But England--"
+
+"Has nothing whatever to do with the matter. Something greater, 
+which goes by the name of self-interest."
+
+"Ah," said the count, his wrinkles relaxing; "then it is on your 
+own responsibility?"
+
+"Precisely."
+
+"But five millions of crowns--two hundred and fifty thousand 
+pounds!"  The minister could not compose himself. "This is a 
+vast sum of money. We expected not an individual, but a 
+syndicate, to accept our securities, to become debtors to the 
+various banks on the continent. But a personal affair! Five 
+millions of crowns!  The possibilities of your wealth overwhelm 
+me."
+
+The Englishman smiled. "I dare say I have more than my share of 
+this world's goods. I can give you a check for the amount on the 
+bank of England."
+
+"Your Majesty's lamented predecessor--"
+
+"Is dead," said the king gently. He had no desire to hear the 
+minister recount that ruler's virtues. "Peace to his ashes."
+
+"Five millions of crowns!"  The minister had lost his equipoise 
+in the face of the Englishman's great riches, of which hitherto 
+he had held some doubts. Suddenly a vivid thought entered his 
+confused brain. The paper cutter in his hand trembled. In the 
+breathing space allowed him he began to calculate rapidly. The 
+king and the diplomat had been in the garden; something had 
+passed between them. What?  The paper cutter slowly ceased its 
+uneven movements. The count calmly placed it behind the inkwells.
+. . . . The Englishman knew. The glitter of gold gave way to 
+the thought of the peril. A chasm yawned at his feet. But he was 
+an old soldier in the game of words and cross-purposes.
+
+"We should be happy to accord you the privilege of becoming the 
+kingdom's creditor," he said, smiling at the diplomat, whom 
+nothing had escaped. "I am afraid, however, that your request 
+has been submitted too late. At ten o'clock this morning the 
+transfer of the certificates would have been a simple matter. 
+There are twenty in all; it may not be too late to secure some 
+of them." He looked tranquilly from the Englishman to the king.
+
+The smiling mask fell from the king's face; he felt that he was 
+lost. He tried to catch his friend's eye, but the diplomat was 
+deeply interested in the console of the fireplace.
+
+"They seem to be at a premium," the Englishman said, "which 
+speaks well for the prosperity of the country. I am sorry to 
+have troubled you."
+
+"It would have been a pleasure indeed," replied the count. He 
+stood secure within his fortress, so secure that he would have 
+liked to laugh.
+
+"It is too bad," said the king, pulling his thoughts together.
+
+"Your Majesty is giving the matter too much importance," said 
+the diplomat. "It was merely a whim. I shall have the pleasure 
+and honor of presenting my successor this evening."
+
+The count bent low, while the king nodded absently. He was 
+thinking that a penful of ink, carelessly trailed over a sheet 
+of paper, had lost him his throne. He was about to draw the arm 
+of the diplomat through his own, when his step was arrested by 
+the entrance of a messenger who presented a letter to the 
+minister of finance.
+
+"With your Majesty's permission," he said, tearing open the 
+envelope. As he read the contents, his shoulders sank to their 
+habitual stoop and benignity once more shone in the place of 
+alertness. "Decidedly, fate is not with your Excellency to-day. 
+M. Jacobi writes me that four millions have already been 
+disposed of to M. Everard & Co., English bankers in the 
+Konigstrasse, who are representing a French firm in this 
+particular instance. I am very sorry."
+
+"It is of no moment now," replied the Englishman indifferently.
+
+The adverb which concluded this declaration caught the keen ear 
+of the minister, who grew tall again. What would he not have 
+given to read the subtle brain of his opponent, for opponent he 
+knew him to be! His intense scrutiny was blocked by a pair of 
+most innocent eyes.
+
+"Well," said the king impatiently, "let us be gone, my friend. 
+The talk of money always leaves a copperish taste on my tongue."
+
+Arm in arm they passed from the chamber. When the door closed 
+behind them, the minister of finance drew his handkerchief 
+across his brow.
+
+"Everard & Co.," mused the Englishman aloud. "Was it not indeed 
+a stroke for your cousin to select them as his agents? You will 
+in truth be accused of selling out to the English. But there is 
+a coincidence in all this."
+
+"I am lost!" said the king.
+
+"On the contrary, you are saved. Everard & Co. are my bankers 
+and attorneys; in fact, I own an interest in the firm."
+
+"What is this you tell me?" cried the king.
+
+"Sire, we English have a peculiar trait; it is asking for 
+something after we have taken it. The human countenance is a 
+fine picture book. I should like to read that belonging to your 
+cousin Josef, providing I could read unobserved."
+
+"My friend!" said the king.
+
+"Say nothing. Here is the bulldog; take him to her Royal 
+Highness with my compliments. There is no truer friend than an 
+animal of his breed. He is steadfast in his love, for he makes 
+but few friends; he is a good companion, for he is 
+undemonstrative; he can read and draw inferences, and your 
+enemies will be his. I shall bid you good afternoon. God be with 
+your Majesty."
+
+"Ah, to lose you now!" said, the king, a heaviness in his heart 
+such as presentiment brings.
+
+The diplomat turned and went down the grand corridor. The 
+bulldog tugged at his chain. Animals are gifted with prescience. 
+He knew that his master had passed forever out of his life. 
+Presently he heard the voice of the princess calling; and the 
+glamour of royalty encompassed him,--something a human finds 
+hard to resist, and he was only a dog.
+
+Meanwhile another messenger had entered the chamber of finance 
+and had gone. On the minister's desk lay a crumpled sheet of 
+paper on which was written:
+
+"Treason and treachery! It has at this moment been ascertained 
+that, while pretending to be our agents in securing the consols, 
+M. Everard & Co. now refuse to deliver them into the custody of 
+Baron von Rumpf, as agreed, and further, that M. Everard & Co. 
+are bankers and attorneys to his Excellency the British minister.
+He must not leave this city with those consols."
+
+With his eyes riveted on these words, the minister of finance, 
+huddled in his chair, had fallen into a profound study.
+
+There were terrible times in the house of Josef that night.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+AN EPISODE TEN YEARS AFTER
+
+One fine September morning in a year the date of which is of no 
+particular importance, a man stepped out of a second-class 
+carriage on to the canopied platform of the railway terminus in 
+the ancient and picturesque city of Bleiberg. He yawned, shook 
+himself, and stretched his arms and legs, relieved to find that 
+the tedious journey from Vienna had not cramped those appendages 
+beyond recovery.
+
+He stood some inches above the average height, and was built up 
+in a manner that suggested the handiwork of a British drill-
+master, his figure being both muscular and symmetrical. Besides, 
+there was on his skin that rich brown shadow which is the result 
+only of the forces of the sun and wind, a life in the open air. 
+This color gave peculiar emphasis to the yellow hair and 
+mustache. His face was not handsome, if one accept the Greek 
+profile as a model of manly beauty, but it was cleanly and 
+boldly cut, healthful, strong and purposeful, based on 
+determined jaws and a chin which would have been obstinate but 
+for the presence of a kindly mouth.
+
+A guard deposited at his feet a new hatbox, a battered traveling 
+bag and two gun cases which also gave evidence of rough usage. 
+The luggage was literally covered with mutilated square and 
+oblong slips of paper of many colors, on which were printed the 
+advertisements of far-sighted hotel keepers all the way from 
+Bombay to London and half-way back across the continent.
+
+There was nothing to be seen, however, indicative of the 
+traveler's name. He surveyed his surroundings with lively 
+interest shining in his gray eyes, one of which peered through a 
+monocle encircled by a thin rim of tortoise shell. He watched 
+the fussy customs officials, who, by some strange mischance, 
+overlooked his belongings. Finally he made an impatient gesture.
+
+"Find me a cab," he said to the attentive guard, who, with an 
+eye to the main chance, had waved off the approach of a station 
+porter. "If the inspectors are in no hurry, I am."
+
+"At once, my lord;" and the guard, as he stooped and lifted the 
+luggage, did not see the start which this appellation caused the 
+stranger to make, but who, after a moment, was convinced that 
+the guard had given him the title merely out of politeness. The 
+guard placed the traps inside of one of the many vehicles 
+stationed at the street exit of the terminus. He was an 
+intelligent and deductive servant.
+
+The traveler was some noted English lord who had come to 
+Bleiberg to shoot the famed golden pheasant, and had secured a 
+second-class compartment in order to demonstrate his incognito. 
+Persons who traveled second-class usually did so to save money; 
+yet this tall Englishman, since the train departed from Vienna, 
+had almost doubled in gratuities the sum paid for his ticket. 
+The guard stood respectfully at the door of the cab, doffed his 
+cap, into which a memento was dropped, and went along about his 
+business.
+
+The Englishman slammed the door, the jehu cracked his whip, and 
+a moment later the hoarse breathings of the motionless engines 
+became lost in the sharper noises of the city carts. The unknown 
+leaned against the faded cushions, curled his mustache, and 
+smiled as if well satisfied with events. It is quite certain 
+that his sense of ease and security would have been somewhat 
+disturbed had he known that another cab was close on the track 
+of his, and that its occupant, an officer of the city 
+gendarmerie, alternately smiled and frowned as one does who 
+floats between conviction and uncertainty. At length the two 
+vehicles turned into the Konigstrasse, the principal 
+thoroughfare of the capital, and here the Englishman's cab came 
+to a stand. The jehu climbed down and opened the door.
+
+"Did Herr say the Continental?" he asked.
+
+"No; the Grand."
+
+The driver shrugged, remounted his box, and drove on. The Grand 
+Hotel was clean enough and respectable, but that was all that 
+could be said in its favor. He wondered if the Englishman would 
+haggle over the fare. Englishmen generally did. He was agreeably 
+disappointed, however, when, on arriving at the mean hostelry, 
+his passenger plunged a hand into a pocket and produced three 
+Franz-Josef florins.
+
+"You may have these," he said, "for the trouble of having them 
+exchanged into crowns."
+
+As he whipped up, the philosophical cabman mused that these 
+tourists were beyond the pale of his understanding. With a 
+pocket full of money, and to put up at the Grand! Why not the 
+Continental, which lay close to the Werter See, the palaces, the 
+royal and public gardens? It was at the Continental that the 
+fine ladies and gentlemen from Vienna, and Innsbruck, and Munich,
+and Belgrade, resided during the autumn months. But the Grand--
+ach! it was in the heart of the shops and markets, and within a 
+stone's throw of that gloomy pile of granite designated in the 
+various guide books as the University of Bleiberg.
+
+The Englishman had some difficulty in finding a pen that would 
+write, and the ink was oily, and the guest-book was not at the 
+proper angle. At last he managed to form the letters of his name,
+which was John Hamilton. After some deliberation, he followed 
+this with "England." The proprietor, who acted as his own clerk, 
+drew the book toward him, and after some time, deciphered the 
+cabalistic signs.
+
+"Ah, Herr John Hamilton of England; is that right?"
+
+"Yes; I am here for a few days' shooting. Can you find me a man 
+to act as guide?"
+
+"This very morning, Herr."
+
+"Thanks."
+
+Then he proceeded up the stairs to the room assigned to him. The 
+smell of garlic which pervaded the air caused him to make a 
+grimace. Once alone in the room, he looked about. There was 
+neither soap nor towel, but there was a card which stated that 
+the same could be purchased at the office. He laughed. A pitcher 
+of water and a bowl stood on a small table, which, by the 
+presence of a mirror (that could not in truth reflect anything 
+but light and darkness), served as a dresser. These he used to 
+good advantage, drying his face and hands on the white 
+counterpane of the bed, and laughing quietly as he did so. Next 
+he lit a pipe, whose capacity for tobacco was rather less than 
+that of a lady's thimble, sat in a chair by the window, smoked 
+quietly, and gazed down on the busy street.
+
+It was yet early in the morning; sellers of vegetables, men and 
+women peasants, with bare legs and wooden shoes, driving shaggy 
+Servian ponies attached to low, cumbersome carts, passed and 
+repassed, to and from the markets. A gendarme, leaning the 
+weight of his shoulder on the guard of a police saber, rested 
+against the corner of a wine shop across the way. Students, 
+wearing squat caps with vizors, sauntered indolently along, 
+twirling canes and ogling all who wore petticoats. Occasionally 
+the bright uniform of a royal cuirassier flashed by; and the 
+Englishman would lean over the sill and gaze after him, nodding 
+his head in approval whenever the cuirassier sat his horse well.
+
+In the meantime the gendarme, who followed him from the station, 
+had entered the hotel, hastily glanced at the freshly written 
+name, and made off toward the palace.
+
+"Well, here we are," mused the Englishman, pressing his thumb 
+into the bowl of his pipe. "The affair promises some excitement. 
+To-morrow will be the sixth; on the twentieth it will be a 
+closed incident, as the diplomats would say. I don't know what 
+brought me here so far ahead of time. I suppose I must look out 
+for a crack on the head from some one I don't know, but who 
+knows me so deuced well that he has hunted me in India and 
+England, first with fine bribes, then with threats." He glanced 
+over his shoulder in the direction of the gun cases. "It was a 
+capital idea, otherwise a certain ubiquitous customs official, 
+who lies in wait for the unwary at the frontier, would now be an 
+inmate of a hospital. To have lived thirty-five years, and to 
+have ground out thirteen of them in her Majesty's, is to have 
+acquired a certain disdain for danger, even when it is masked. I 
+am curious to see how far these threats will go. It will take a 
+clever man to trap me. The incognito is a fort. By the way, I 
+wonder how the inspectors at the station came to overlook my 
+traps? Strange, considering what I have gone through."
+
+At this moment the knuckles of a hand beat against the door.
+
+"Come in!" answered the Englishman, wheeling his chair, but 
+making no effort to rise. "Come in!"
+
+The door swung in, and there entered a short, spectacled man in 
+dark gray clothes which fairly bristled with brass buttons. He 
+was the chief inspector of customs. He bowed.
+
+The Englishman, consternation widening his eyes, lowered his 
+pipe.
+
+"Monsieur Hamilton's pardon," the inspector began, speaking in 
+French, "but with your permission I shall inspect your luggage 
+and glance at your passports." He bowed again.
+
+"Now do you know, mon ami," replied the Englishman, "that 
+Monsieur Hamilton will not permit you to gaze even into yonder 
+washbowl?" He rose lazily.
+
+"But, Monsieur," cried the astonished official, to whom non-
+complaisance in the matter of inspection was unprecedented, "you 
+certainly will not put any obstacle in the path of my duty!"
+
+"Your duty, Monsieur the Spectacles, is to inspect at the 
+station. There your assistants refused to award me their 
+attention. You are trespassing."
+
+"Monsieur forgets," sternly; "it is the law. Is it possible that 
+I shall be forced to call in the gendarmes to assist me? This is 
+extraordinary!"
+
+"I dare say it is, on your part," admitted the Englishman, 
+polishing the bowl of his pipe against the side of his nose. 
+"You had best go at once. If you do not, I shall take you by the 
+nape of your Bleibergian neck and kick you down the stairs. I 
+have every assurance of my privileges. The law here, unless it 
+has changed within the past hour, requires inspection at the 
+frontier, and at the capital; but your jurisdiction does not 
+extend beyond the stations. Bon jour, Monsieur the Spectacles; 
+bon jour!"
+
+"O, Monsieur!"
+
+"Good day!"
+
+"Monsieur, it is my duty; I must!"
+
+"Good day! How will you go, by the stairs or by the window? I--
+but wait!" an idea coming to him which caused him to reflect on 
+the possible outcome of violence done to a government official, 
+who, perhaps, was discharging his peculiar duty at the orders of 
+superiors. He walked swiftly to the door and slid the bolt, to 
+the terror of the inspector, on whose brow drops of perspiration 
+began to gather. "Now," opening the hat box and taking out a 
+silk hat, "this is a hat, purchased in Paris at Cook's. There is 
+nothing in the lining but felt. Look into the box; nothing. Take 
+out your book and follow me closely," he continued, dividing the 
+traveling bag into halves, and he began to enumerate the 
+contents.
+
+"But, Monsieur!" remonstrated the inspector, who did not enjoy 
+this infringement of his prerogatives; his was the part to 
+overhaul. "This is--"
+
+"Be still and follow me," and the Englishman went on with the 
+inventory. "There!" when he had done, "not a dutiable thing 
+except this German-Scotch whisky, and that is so bad that I give 
+it to you rather than pay duty. What next? My passports? Here 
+they are, absolutely flawless, vised by the authorities in 
+Vienna."
+
+The slips crackled in the fluttering fingers of the inspector. 
+"They are as you say, Monsieur," he said, returning the permits. 
+Then he added timidly, "And the gun cases?"
+
+"The gun cases!" The pipe spilled its coal to the floor. "The 
+gun cases!"
+
+"Yes, Monsieur."
+
+"And why do you wish to look into them?" with agitation.
+
+"Smugglers sometimes fill them with cigars."
+
+"Ah!" The Englishman selected two loaded shells, drew a gun from 
+the case, threw up the breech and rammed in the shells. Then he 
+extended the weapon to within an inch of the terrified 
+inspector's nose. "Now, Monsieur the Spectacles, look in there 
+and tell me what you see."
+
+The fellow sank half-fainting into a chair. "Mon Dieu, Monsieur, 
+would you kill me who have a family?"
+
+"What's a customs inspector, more or less?" asked the terrible 
+islander, laughing. "I advise you not to ask me to let you look 
+into the other gun, out of consideration for your family. It has 
+hair triggers, and my fingers tremble."
+
+"Monsieur, Monsieur, you do wrong to trifle with the law. I 
+shall be obliged to report you. You will be arrested."
+
+"Nothing of the kind," was the retort. "I have only to inform 
+the British minister how remiss you were in your obligations. I 
+should go free, whereas you would be discharged. But what I 
+demand to know is, what the devil is the meaning of this farce."
+
+"I am simply obeying orders," answered the inspector, wiping his 
+forehead. "It is not a farce, as Monsieur will find." Then, as 
+if to excuse this implied threat: "Will Monsieur please point 
+the gun the other way?"
+
+The Englishman unloaded the gun and tossed it on the bed.
+
+"Thanks. In coming here I simply obeyed the orders of the 
+minister of police."
+
+"And what in the world did you expect to find?"
+
+"We are looking--that is, they are looking--O, Monsieur, it is 
+impossible for me to disclose to you my government's purposes."
+
+"What and whom were you expecting?" demanded the Englishman. 
+"You shall not leave this room till you have fully explained 
+this remarkable intrusion."
+
+"We were expecting the Lord and Baronet Fitzgerald."
+
+"The lord!" laughing. "Does the lord visit Bleiberg often, then, 
+that you prepare this sort of a reception? And the Baronet 
+Fitzgerald?"
+
+"They are the same and the one person."
+
+"And who the deuce is he; a spy, a smuggler, a villain, or what?"
+
+"As to that, Monsieur," with a wonder why this man laughed, "I 
+know no more than you. But I do know that for the past month 
+every Englishman has been subjected to this surveillance, and 
+has submitted with more grace than you," with an oblique glance.
+
+"What! Examined his luggage at the hotel?"
+
+"Yes, Monsieur. It is the order of the minister of police. I 
+know not why." The natural color was returning to his cheeks.
+
+"This is a fine country, I must say. At least the king should 
+acquaint his visitors with the true cause of this treatment." In 
+his turn the Englishman resorted to oblique glances.
+
+"The king?" The inspector raised a shoulder and spread his hands.
+"The king is a paralytic, Monsieur, and has little to say these days."
+
+"A paralytic? I thought he was called `the handsome monarch'?"
+
+"That was years ago, Monsieur. For three years he has been 
+helpless and bedridden. The archbishop is the real king nowadays.
+But he meddles not with the police."
+
+"This is very sad. I suppose it would be impossible for 
+strangers to see him now."
+
+"An audience?" a sparkle behind the spectacles. "Is your 
+business with the king, Monsieur?"
+
+"My business is mine," shortly. "I am only a tourist, and should 
+have liked to see the king from mere curiosity. However, had you 
+explained all this to me, I should not have caused you so many 
+gray hairs."
+
+"Monsieur did not give me the chance," simply.
+
+"True," the Englishman replied soberly. He began to think that 
+he had been over hasty in asserting his privileges. "But all 
+this has nothing to do with me. My name is John Hamilton. See, 
+it is engraved on the stock of the gun," catching it up and 
+holding it under the spectacled eyes, which still observed it 
+with some trepidation. "That is the name in my passports, in the 
+book down stairs, in the lining of my hat. I am sorry, since you 
+were only obeying orders, that my rough play has caused you 
+alarm." He unbolted the door. "Good morning."
+
+The inspector left the room as swiftly as his short legs could 
+carry him, ignoring the ethics of common politeness. As he 
+stumbled down the stairs he cursed the minister of police for 
+requiring this spy work of him, and not informing him why it was 
+done. Ah, these cursed Anglais from Angleterre! They were all 
+alike, and this one was the worst he had ever encountered. And 
+those ugly black orifices in the gun! Peste! He would resign! 
+Yes, certainly he would resign.
+
+As to the Englishman, he stood in the center of the room and 
+scratched his head. "Hang it, I've made an ass of myself. That 
+blockhead will have the gendarmes about my ears. If they arrest 
+me there will be the devil to pay. The Lord and the Baronet 
+Fitzgerald!" he repeated. He sat down on the edge of the bed, 
+and fell to laughing again. "Confound these picture-book 
+kingdoms! They always take themselves so seriously. Well, if the 
+gendarmes call this afternoon I'll not be at home. No, thank you.
+I shall be hunting pheasants."
+
+And thereat he set to work cleaning the gun which had all but 
+prostrated the inspector. Soon the room smelled of oiled rags 
+and tobacco. Some-times the worker whistled softly. Sometimes he 
+let the gun fall against his knee, and stared dreamily through 
+the window at the flight of the ragged clouds. Again, he would 
+shake his head, as if there were something which he failed to 
+understand. Half an hour passed, when again some one knocked on 
+the door.
+
+"Come in!" Under his breath he added: "The gendarmes, likely."
+
+But it was only the proprietor of the hotel. "Asking Herr's 
+pardon," he said, "for this intrusion, but I have secured a man 
+for you. I have the honor to recommend Johann Kopf as a good 
+guide and hunter."
+
+"Send him up. If he pleases me, I'll use him."
+
+The proprietor withdrew.
+
+Johann Kopf proved to be a young German with a round, ruddy face,
+which was so innocent of guile as to be out of harmony with the 
+shrewd, piercing black eyes looking out of it. The Englishman 
+eyed him inquisitively, even suspiciously.
+
+"Are you a good hunter?" he asked.
+
+"There is none better hereabout," answered Johann, twirling his 
+cap with noticeably white fingers. It was only in after days 
+that the Englishman appreciated the full significance of this 
+answer.
+
+"Speak English?"
+
+"No. Herr's German is excellent, however."
+
+"Humph!" The Englishman gave a final glance into the shining 
+tubes of the gun, snapped the breach, and slipped it into the 
+case. "You'll do. Return to the office; I'll be down presently."
+
+"Will Herr hunt this morning?"
+
+"No; what I wish this morning is to see the city of Bleiberg."
+
+"That is simple," said Johann. The fleeting, imperceptible smile 
+did not convict his eyes of false keenness.
+
+He bowed out. When the door closed the Englishman waited until 
+the sound of retreating steps failed. Then he took the gun case 
+which he had not yet opened, and thrust it under the mattress of 
+the bed.
+
+"Johann," he said, as he put on a soft hat and drew a cane from 
+the straps of the traveling bag, "you will certainly precede me 
+in our hunting expeditions. I do not like your eyes; they are 
+not at home in your boyish face. Humph! what a country. Every 
+one speaks a different tongue."
+
+The city of Bleiberg lay on a hill and in the valleys which fell 
+away to the east and west. It was divided into two towns, the 
+upper and the lower. The upper town and that part which lay on 
+the shores of the Werter See was the modern and fashionable 
+district. It was here that the king and the archbishop had their 
+palaces and the wealthy their brick and stone. The public park 
+skirted the lake, and was patterned after those fine gardens 
+which add so much to the picturesqueness of Vienna and Berlin. 
+There were wide gravel paths and long avenues of lofty chestnuts 
+and lindens, iron benches, fountains and winding flower beds. 
+The park, the palaces, and the Continental Hotel enclosed a 
+public square, paved with asphalt, called the Hohenstaufenplatz, 
+in the center of which rose a large marble fountain of several 
+streams, guarded by huge bronze wolves. Here, too, were iron 
+benches which were, for the most part, the meeting-place of the 
+nursemaids. Carriages were allowed to make the circuit, but not 
+to obstruct the way.
+
+The Konigstrasse began at the Platz, divided the city, and wound 
+away southward, merging into the highway which continued to the 
+Thalian Alps, some thirty miles distant. The palaces were at the 
+southeast corner of the Platz, first the king's, then the 
+archbishop's. The private gardens of each ran into the lake. 
+Directly across from the palaces stood the cathedral, a relic of 
+five centuries gone. On the northwest corner stood the 
+Continental Hotel, with terrace and parapet at the water's edge, 
+and a delightful open-air cafe facing the Platz. September and 
+October were prosperous months in Bleiberg. Fashionable people 
+who desired quiet made Bleiberg an objective point. The 
+pheasants were plump, there were boars, gray wolves, and not 
+infrequently Monsieur Fourpaws of the shaggy coat wandered 
+across from the Carpathians.
+
+As to the lower town, it was given over to the shops and markets,
+the barracks, the university, and the Rathhaus, which served as 
+the house of the Diet. It was full of narrow streets and quaint 
+dwellings.
+
+Up the Konigstrasse the guide led the Englishman, who nodded 
+whenever the voluble chatter of the German pleased him. When 
+they began the descent of the hill, the vista which opened 
+before them drew from the Englishman an ejaculation of delight. 
+There lay the lake, like a bright new coin in a green purse; the 
+light of the sun broke on the white buildings and flashed from 
+the windows; and the lawns twinkled like emeralds.
+
+"It makes Vienna look to her laurels, eh, Herr?" said Johann.
+
+"But it must have cost a pretty penny."
+
+"Aye, that it did; and the king is being impressed with that 
+fact every day. There are few such fine palaces outside of first-
+class kingdoms. The cathedral there was erected at the desire of 
+a pope, born five hundred years ago. It is full of romance. 
+There is to be a grand wedding there on the twentieth of this 
+month. That is why there are so many fashionable people at the 
+hotels. The crown prince of Carnavia, which is the large kingdom 
+just east of us, is to wed the Princess Alexia, the daughter of 
+the king."
+
+"On the twentieth? That is strange."
+
+"Strange?"
+
+"), I meant nothing," said the Englishman, jerking back his 
+shoulders; "I had in mind another affair."
+
+There was a flash in Johann's eyes, but he subdued it before the 
+Englishman was aware of its presence. "However," said Johann, 
+"there is something strange. The prince was to have arrived a week
+ago to complete the final arrangements for the wedding. His suite
+has been here a week, but no sign of his Highness. He stopped
+over a train at Ehrenstein to visit for a few hours a friend of
+the king, his father. Since then nothing has been heard from him.
+The king, it is said, fears that some accident has happened to him.
+Carnavia is also disturbed over this disappearance. Some whisper
+of a beautiful peasant girl. Who can say?"
+
+"Any political significance in this marriage?"
+
+"Leopold expects to strengthen his throne by the alliance. But--"
+Johann's mouth closed and his tongue pushed out his cheek. 
+"There will be some fine doings in the good city of Bleiberg 
+before the month is gone. The minister from the duchy has been 
+given his passports. Every one concedes that trouble is likely 
+to ensue. Baron von Rumpf--"
+
+"Baron von Rumpf," repeated the Englishman thoughtfully.
+
+"Yes; he is not a man to submit to accusations without making a 
+disagreeable defense."
+
+"What does the duke say?"
+
+"The duke?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"His Highness has been dead these four years."
+
+"Dead four years? So much for man and his futile dreams. Dead 
+four years," absently.
+
+"What did you say, Herr?"
+
+"I? Nothing. How did he die?"
+
+"He was thrown from his horse and killed. But the duchess lives, 
+and she is worthy of her sire. Eh, Herr, there is a woman for 
+you! She should sit on this throne; it is hers by right. These 
+Osians are aliens and were forced on us."
+
+"It seems to me, young man, that you are talking treason."
+
+"That is my business, Herr." Johann laughed. "I am a socialist, 
+and occasionally harangue for the reds. And sometimes, when I am 
+in need of money, I find myself in the employ of the police."
+
+The muscles of the Englishman's jaws hardened, then they relaxed.
+The expression on the face of his guide was free from anything 
+but bonhomie.
+
+"One must live," Johann added deprecatingly.
+
+"Yes, one must live," replied the Englishman.
+
+"O! but I could sell some fine secrets to the Osians had they 
+money to pay. Ach! but what is the use? The king has no money; 
+he is on the verge of bankruptcy, and this pretty bit of scenery 
+is the cause of it."
+
+"So you are a socialist?" said the Englishman, passing over 
+Johann's declamatory confidences.
+
+"Yes, Herr. All men are brothers."
+
+"Go to!" laughed the Englishman, "you aren't even a second 
+cousin to me. But stay, what place is this we are passing?" 
+indicating with his cane a red-brick mansion which was fronted 
+by broad English lawns and protected from intrusion by a high 
+iron fence.
+
+
+"That is the British legation, Herr."
+
+The Englishman stopped and stared, unconscious of the close 
+scrutiny of the guide. His eyes traveled up the wide flags 
+leading to the veranda, and he drew a picture of a square-
+shouldered old man tramping backward and forward, the wind 
+tangling his thin white hair, his hands behind his back, his 
+chin in his collar and at his heels a white bulldog. Rapidly 
+another picture came. It was an English scene. And the echo of a 
+voice fell on his ears. "My way and the freedom of the house and 
+the key to the purse; your way and a closed door while I live. 
+You can go, but you can not come back. You have decided? Yes? 
+Then good morning." Thirteen years, thirteen years! He had 
+sacrificed the freedom of the house and the key to the purse, 
+the kind eyes and the warm pressure of that old hand. And for 
+what? Starvation in the deserts, plenty of scars and little of 
+thanks, ingratitude and forgetfulness.
+
+And now the kind eyes were closed and the warm hand cold. O, to 
+recall the vanished face, the silent voice, the misspent years, 
+the April days and their illusions! The Englishman took the 
+monocle from his eye and looked at it, wondering what had caused 
+the sudden blur.
+
+"There was a fine old man there in the bygone days," said Johann.
+
+"And who was he?"
+
+"Lord Fitzgerald, the British minister. He and Leopold were 
+close friends." Johann's investigating gaze went unrewarded. The 
+Englishman's face had resumed its expression of mild curiosity.
+
+"Ah; a compatriot of mine," he said. Inwardly he mused: "This 
+guide is watching me; let him catch me if he can. His duchess? I 
+know far too much of her!"
+
+"He was a millionaire, too," went on Johann.
+
+"Well, we can't all be rich. Come."
+
+They crossed the Strasse and traversed the walk at the side of 
+the palace enclosures. The Englishman aimlessly trailed his cane 
+along the green pickets of the fence till they ended in a stone 
+arch which rose high over the driveway. The gates were open, and 
+coming toward the two wanderers as they stood at the curb rolled 
+the royal barouche, on each side of which rode a mounted 
+cuirassier, sashed and helmeted. The Englishman, however, had 
+observed nothing; he was lost in some dream.
+
+"Look, Herr!" cried Johann, rousing the other by a pull at the 
+sleeve. "Look!" Socialist though he claimed to be, Johann 
+touched his cap.
+
+In the barouche, leaning back among the black velvet cushions, 
+her face mellowed by the shade of a small parasol, was a young 
+woman of nineteen or twenty, as beautiful as a da Vinci freshly 
+conceived. The Englishman saw a pair of grave dark eyes which, 
+in the passing, met his and held them. He caught his breath.
+
+"Who is that?" he asked.
+
+"That is her Royal Highness the Crown Princess Alexia."
+
+Afterward the Englishman remembered seeing a white dog lying on 
+the opposite seat.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+AN ADVENTURE WITH ROYALTY
+
+Maurice Carewe, attached to the American legation in Vienna, 
+leaned against the stone parapet which separated the terraced 
+promenade of the Continental Hotel from the Werter See, and 
+wondered what had induced him to come to Bleiberg.
+
+He had left behind him the glory of September in Vienna, a city 
+second only to Paris in fashion and gaiety; Vienna, with its 
+inimitable bands, its incomparable gardens, its military 
+maneuvers, its salons, its charming women; and all for a fool's 
+errand. His Excellency was to blame. He had casually dropped the 
+remark that the duchy's minister, Baron von Rumpf, had been 
+given his passports as a persona non grata by the chancellor of 
+the kingdom, and that a declaration of war was likely to follow. 
+Maurice's dormant love of journalistic inquiry had become 
+aroused, and he had asked permission to investigate the affair, 
+a favor readily granted to him.
+
+But here he was, on the scene, and nobody knew anything, and 
+nobody could tell anything. The duchess had remained silent. Not 
+unnaturally he wished himself back in Vienna. There were no 
+court fetes in the city of Bleiberg. The king's condition was 
+too grave to permit them. And, besides, there had been no real 
+court in Bleiberg for the space of ten years, so he was told. 
+Those solemn affairs of the archbishop's, given once the week 
+for the benefit of the corps diplomatique, were dull and 
+spiritless. Her Royal Highness was seldom seen, save when she 
+drove through the streets. Persons who remembered the reign 
+before told what a mad, gay court it had been. Now it was 
+funereal. The youth and beauty of Bleiberg held a court of its 
+own. Royalty was not included, nor did it ask to be.
+
+A strange capital, indeed, Maurice reflected, as he gazed down 
+into the cool, brown water. He regretted his caprice. There were 
+pretty women in Vienna. Some of them belonged to the American 
+colony. They danced well, they sang and played and rode. He had 
+taught some of them how to fence, and he could not remember the 
+times he had been "buttoned" while paying too much attention to 
+their lips and eyes. For Maurice loved a thing of beauty, were 
+it a woman, a horse or a Mediterranean sunset. What a difference 
+between these two years in Vienna and that year in Calcutta! He 
+never would forget the dingy office, with its tarnished sign, "U.
+S. Consul," tacked insecurely on the door, and the utter 
+loneliness.
+
+He cast a pebble into the lake, and watched the ripples roll 
+away and disappear, and ruminated on a life full of color and 
+vicissitude. He remembered the Arizona days, the endless burning 
+sand, the dull routine of a cavalry trooper, the lithe brown 
+bodies of the Apaches, the first skirmish and the last. From a 
+soldier he had turned journalist, tramped the streets of 
+Washington in rain and shine, living as a man lived who must.
+
+One day his star had shot up from the nadir of obscurity, not 
+very far, but enough to bring his versatility under the notice 
+of the discerning Secretary of State, who, having been a friend 
+of the father, offered the son a berth in the diplomatic corps. 
+A consulate in a South American republic, during a revolutionary 
+crisis, where he had shown consummate skill in avoiding 
+political complications (and where, by a shrewd speculation in 
+gold, he had feathered his nest for his declining years), proved 
+that the continual incertitude of a journalistic career is a 
+fine basis for diplomatic work. From South America he had gone 
+to Calcutta, thence to Austria.
+
+He was only twenty-nine, which age in some is youth. He 
+possessed an old man's wisdom and a boy's exuberance of spirits. 
+He laughed whenever he could; to him life was a panorama of 
+vivid pictures, the world a vast theater to which somehow he had 
+gained admission. His beardless countenance had deceived more 
+than one finished diplomat, for it was difficult to believe that 
+behind it lay an earnest purpose and a daring courage. If he 
+bragged a little, quizzed graybeards, sought strange places, 
+sported with convention, and eluded women, it was due to his 
+restlessness. Yet, he had the secretiveness of sand; he absorbed,
+but he revealed nothing. He knew his friends; they thought they 
+knew him. It was his delight to have women think him a butterfly,
+men write him down a fool; it covered up his real desires and 
+left him free.
+
+What cynicism he had was mellowed by a fanciful humor. Whether 
+with steel or with words, he was a master of fence; and if at 
+times some one got under his guard, that some one knew it not. 
+To let your enemy see that he has hit you is to give him 
+confidence. He saw humor where no one else saw it, and tragedy 
+where it was not suspected. He was one of those rare individuals 
+who, when the opportunity of chance refuses to come, makes one.
+
+"Germany and Austria are great countries," he mused, lighting a 
+cigar. "Every hundredth man is a king, one in fifty is a duke, 
+every tenth man is a prince, and one can not take a corner 
+without bumping into a count or a baron. Even the hotel waiters 
+are disquieting; there is that embarrassing atmosphere about 
+them which suggests nobility in durance vile. As for me, I 
+prefer Kentucky, where every man is a colonel, and you never 
+make a mistake. And these kingdoms!" He indulged in subdued 
+laughter. "They are always like comic operas. I find myself 
+looking around every moment for the merry villagers so happy and 
+so gay (at fifteen dollars the week), the eternal innkeeper and 
+the perennial soubrette his daughter, the low comedian and the 
+self-conscious tenor. Heigho! and not a soul in Bleiberg knows 
+me, nor cares.
+
+"I'd rather talk five minutes to a pretty woman than eat stuffed 
+pheasants the year around, and the stuffed pheasant is about all 
+Bleiberg can boast of. Well, here goes for a voyage of discovery;"
+and he passed down the stone steps to the pier, quite unconscious
+of the admiring glances of the women who fluttered back and forth
+on the wide balconies above.
+
+It was four o'clock in the afternoon; a fresh wind redolent of 
+pine and resin blew across the lake. Maurice climbed into a boat 
+and pulled away with a strong, swift stroke, enjoying the 
+liberation of his muscles. A quarter of a mile out he let the 
+oars drift and took his bearings. He saw the private gardens of 
+the king and the archbishop, and, convinced that a closer view 
+would afford him entertainment, he caught up the oars again and 
+moved inland.
+
+The royal gardens ran directly into the water, while those of 
+the archbishop were protected by a wall of brick five or six 
+feet in height, in the center of which was a gate opening on the 
+water. Behind the gate was a small boat dock. Maurice plied the 
+oars vigorously. He skirted the royal gardens, and the smell of 
+newly mown lawns filled the air. Soon he was gliding along the 
+sides of the moss-grown walls. A bird chirped in the overhanging 
+boughs. He was about to cast loose the oars again, when the boat 
+was brought to a violent stop. A few yards waterward from the 
+gate there lay, hidden in the shadowed water, a sunken pier. On 
+one of the iron piles the boat had become impaled.
+
+Maurice was tumbled into the bow of the boat, which began 
+rapidly to fill. First he swore, then he laughed, for he was 
+possessed of infinite good humor. The only thing left for him to 
+do was to swim for the gate. With a rueful glance at his thin 
+clothes, he dropped himself over the side of the wreck and 
+struck out toward the gate. The water, having its source from 
+the snowclad mountains, was icy. He was glad enough to grasp the 
+lower bars of the gate and draw himself up. He was on the point 
+of climbing over, when a picture presented itself to his 
+streaming eyes.
+
+Seated on a bench made of twisted vine was a young girl. She 
+held in her hand a book, but she was not reading it. She was 
+scanning the unwritten pages of some reverie; her eyes, dark, 
+large and wistful, were holding communion with the god of dreams.
+A wisp of hair, glossy as coal, trembled against a cheek white 
+as the gown she wore.
+
+At her side, blinking in the last rays of the warm sun, sat a 
+bulldog, toothless and old. Now and then a sear leaf, falling in 
+a zig-zag course, rustled past his ears, and he would shake his 
+head as if he, too, were dreaming and the leaves disturbed him. 
+All at once he sniffed, his ears stood forward, and a low growl 
+broke the enchantment. The girl, on discovering Maurice, closed 
+the book and rose. The dog, still growling, jumped down and 
+trotted to the gate. Maurice thought that it was time to speak.
+
+"Mademoiselle," he said, "pardon this intrusion, but my boat has 
+met with an accident."
+
+The girl came to the gate. "Why, Monsieur," she exclaimed, "you 
+are wet!"
+
+"That is true," replied Maurice, his teeth beginning to knock 
+together. "I was forced to swim. If you will kindly open the 
+gate and guide me to the street, I shall be much obliged to you."
+
+The gate swung outward, and in a moment Maurice was on dry land, 
+or the next thing to it, which was the boat-dock.
+
+"Thank you," he said.
+
+"O! And you might have been drowned," compassion lighting her 
+beautiful eyes. "Sit down on the bench, Monsieur, for you must 
+be weak. And it was that sunken pier? I shall speak to 
+Monseigneur; he must have it removed. Bull, stop growling; you 
+are very impolite; the gentleman is in distress."
+
+Maurice sat down, not because he was weak, but because the 
+desire to gain the street had suddenly subsided. Who was this 
+girl who could say "must" to the formidable prelate? His quick 
+eye noticed that she showed no sign of embarrassment. Indeed, 
+she impressed him as one who was superior to that petty 
+disturbance of collected thought. Somehow it seemed to him, as 
+she stood there looking down at him, that he, too, should be 
+standing. But she put forth a hand with gentle insistence when 
+he made as though to rise. What an exquisite face, he thought. 
+Against the whiteness of her skin her lips burned like poppy 
+petals. Innocent, inquisitive eyes smiled gently, eyes in whose 
+tranquil depths lay the glory of the world, asleep. Presently a 
+color, faint and fugitive, dimmed the whiteness of her cheeks. 
+Maurice, conscious of his rudeness and of a warmth in his own 
+cheeks, instinctively lowered his gaze.
+
+"Pardon my rudeness," he said.
+
+"What is your name, Monsieur," she asked calmly.
+
+"It is Maurice Carewe. I am living in Vienna. I came to Bleiberg 
+for pleasure, but the first day has not been propitious," with 
+an apologetic glance at his dripping clothes.
+
+"Maurice Carewe," slowly repeating the full name as if to 
+imprint it on her memory. "You are English?"
+
+He said: "No; I am one of those dreadful Yankees you have 
+possibly read about."
+
+Her teeth gleamed. "Yes, I have heard of them. But you do not 
+appear so very dreadful; though at present you are truly not at 
+your best. What is this--this Yankeeland like?"
+
+"It would take me ever so long to tell you about it, it is such 
+a great country."
+
+"You are a patriot!" clapping her hands. "No other country is so 
+fine and large and great as your own. But tell me, is it as 
+large as Austria?"
+
+"Austria? You will not be offended if I tell you?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Well," with fun in his eyes, "it is my opinion that I could 
+hide Austria in my country so thoroughly that nobody would ever 
+be able to find it again." He wondered how she would accept this 
+statement.
+
+She lifted her chin and laughed, and the bulldog wagged his tail,
+as he always did when mirth touched her. He jumped up beside 
+Maurice and looked into his face. Maurice patted his broad head, 
+and he submitted. The girl looked rather surprised.
+
+"Are you a magician?" she asked.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Bull never makes friends."
+
+"But I do," said Maurice; "perhaps he understands that, and 
+comes half-way. But it is rather strange to see a bulldog in 
+this part of the country."
+
+"He was given to me, years ago, by an Englishman."
+
+"That accounts for it." He was experiencing a deal of cold, but 
+he dared not mention it. "And may I ask your name?"
+
+"Ah, Monsieur," shyly, "to tell you my name would be to frighten 
+you away."
+
+"I am sure nothing could do that," he declared earnestly. Had he 
+been thinking of aught but her eyes he might have caught the 
+significance of her words. But, then, the cold was numbing.
+
+She surveyed him with critical eyes. She saw a clean-shaven face,
+brown, handsome and eager, merry blue eyes, a chin firm and 
+aggressive, a mischievous mouth, a forehead which showed the man 
+of thought, a slim athletic form which showed the man of action--
+all of which combined to produce that indescribable air which 
+attaches itself to the gentleman.
+
+"It is Alexia," she said, after some hesitation, watching him 
+closely to observe the effect.
+
+But he was as far away as ever. "Alexia what?"
+
+"Only Alexia," a faint coquetry stealing into her glance.
+
+"O, then you are probably a maid?"
+
+"Y--es. But you are disappointed?"
+
+"No, indeed. You have put me more at ease. I suppose you serve 
+the princess?"
+
+"Whenever I can," demurely.
+
+He could not keep his eyes from hers. "They say that she is a 
+very lonely princess."
+
+"So lonely." And the coquetry faded from her eyes as her glance 
+wandered waterward and became fixed on some object invisible and 
+far away. "Poor lonely princess!"
+
+Maurice was growing colder and colder, but he did not mind. He 
+had wished for some woman to talk to; his wish had been granted. 
+"I feel sorry for her, if what they say is true," having no 
+other words.
+
+"And what do they say, Monsieur?"
+
+"That she and her father have been socially ostracized. I should 
+be proud to be her friend." Once the words were gone from him, 
+he saw their silliness. "A presumptuous statement," he added; "I 
+am an obscure foreigner."
+
+"Friendship, Monsieur, is a thing we all should prize, all the 
+more so when it is disinterested."
+
+He said rapidly, for fear she might hear his teeth chatter: 
+"They say she is very beautiful. Tell me what she is like."
+
+"I am no judge of what men call beauty. As to her character, I 
+believe I may recommend that. She is good."
+
+He was sure that merriment twitched the corners of her lips, and 
+he grew thoughtful. "Alexia. Is that not her Highness's name 
+also?"
+
+"Yes, Monsieur; we have the same names." Her eyes fell, and she 
+began to finger the pages of the book.
+
+"I am rested now," he said, with a sudden distrust. "I thank you."
+
+"Come, then, and I will show you the way to the gate."
+
+"I am sorry to have troubled you," he said.
+
+She did not reply, and together they walked up the path. The 
+plants were dying, and the odor of decay hovered about them. 
+Splashes of rich vermilion crowned the treetops, leaves of gold, 
+russet and faded green rustled on the ground. The sun was gone 
+behind the hills, the lake was tinted with salmon and dun, and 
+Maurice (who honestly would have liked to run) was turning 
+purple, not from atmospheric effect, but from the partly 
+congealed state of his blood. Already he was thinking that his 
+adventure had turned out rather well. It was but a simple task 
+for a man of his imagination to construct a pretty romance, with 
+a kingdom for a background. A maid of honor, perhaps; no matter, 
+he would find means for future communication. A glamour had 
+fallen upon him.
+
+As to the girl, who had scarce spoken to a dozen young men in 
+her life, she was comparing four faces; one of a visionary 
+character of which she had dreamed for ten years, and three 
+which had recently entered into the small circle of her affairs.
+It was little pleasure to her to talk to those bald diplomats, 
+who were always saying what they did not mean, and meaning what 
+they did not say. And the young officers in the palace never 
+presumed to address her unless spoken to.
+
+What a monotonous life it was! She was like a bird in a cage, 
+ever longing for freedom, not of the air, but of impulse. To be 
+permitted to yield to the impulses of the heart! What a 
+delightful thought that was! But she, she seemed apart from all 
+which was desirable to youth. Women courtesied to her, men 
+touched their hats; but homage was not what she wanted. To be 
+free, that was all; to come and go at will; to laugh and to sing.
+But ever the specter of royal dignity walked beside her and 
+held her captive.
+
+She was to wed a man on whom she looked with indifference, but 
+wed him she must; it was written. A toy of ambition, she was 
+neither more nor less. Ah, to be as her maids, not royal, but 
+free. Of the three new faces one belonged to the man whom she 
+was to wed; another was a tall, light-haired man whom she had 
+seen from her carriage; the last walked by her side. And somehow,
+the visionary face, the faces of the man whom she was to wed 
+and the light-haired man suddenly grew indistinct. She glanced 
+from the corner of her eyes at Maurice, but meeting his glance, 
+in which lay something that caused her uneasiness, her gaze 
+dropped to the path.
+
+"I shall be pleased to tell her Highness that a stranger, who 
+has not met her, who does not even suspect her rebel spirit, 
+desires to be her friend."
+
+"O, Mademoiselle," he cried in alarm, "that desire was expressed 
+in confidence."
+
+"I know it. It is for that very reason I wish her to know. Have 
+no fear, Monsieur;" and she laughed without mirth. "Her Highness 
+will not send you to prison"
+
+Close at hand Maurice discovered a cuirassier, who, on seeing 
+them, saluted and stood attention. Maurice was puzzled.
+
+"Lieutenant," said the girl, "Monsieur--Carewe?" turning to 
+Maurice.
+
+"Yes, that is the name."
+
+"Well, then, Monsieur Carewe has met with an accident; please 
+escort him to the gate. I trust you will not suffer any 
+inconvenience from the cold. Good evening, Monsieur Carewe."
+
+She retraced her steps down the path. The bulldog followed. Once 
+he looked back at Maurice, and stopped as if undecided, then 
+went on. Maurice stared at the figure of the girl unfil it 
+vanished behind a clump of rose bushes.
+
+"Well, Monsieur Carewe!" said the Lieutenant, a broad smile 
+under his mustache.
+
+"I beg your pardon, Lieutenant. May I ask you who she is?"
+
+"What! You do not know?"
+
+Maurice suddenly saw light. "Her Royal Highness?" blankly.
+
+"Her Royal Highness, God bless her!" cried the Lieutenant 
+heartily.
+
+"Amen to that," replied Maurice, his agitation visible even to 
+the officer.
+
+They arrived at the gate in silence. The cuirassier raised the 
+bar, touched his helmet, and said, with something like an amused 
+twinkle in his eyes: "Would Monsieur like to borrow my helmet 
+for a space?"
+
+Maurice put up a hand to his water-soaked hair, and gave an 
+ejaculation of dismay. He had forgotten all about his hat, which 
+was by now, in-all probabilities, at the bottom of the lake.
+
+"Curse the luck!" he said, in English.
+
+"Curse the want of it, I should say!" was the merry rejoinder, 
+also in English.
+
+Maurice threw back his head and laughed, and the cuirassier 
+caught the infection.
+
+"However, there is some compensation for the hat," said the 
+cuirassier, straightening his helmet. "You are the first 
+stranger who has spoken to her Highness this many a day. Did the 
+dog take to your calves? Well, never mind; he has no teeth. It 
+was only day before yesterday that the Marshal swore he'd have 
+the dog shot. Poor dog! He is growing blind, too, or he'd never 
+have risked his gums on the Marshal, who is all shins. If you 
+will wait I will fetch you one of the archbishop's skull caps."
+
+"Don't trouble yourself," laughed Maurice. "What I need is not a 
+hat, but a towel, and I'll get that at the hotel. George! I feel 
+so like an ass. What is your name, Lieutenant?"
+
+"Von Mitter, Carl von Mitter, at your service. And you are 
+Monsieur Carewe."
+
+"Of the American legation in Vienna. Thanks for your trouble."
+
+"None at all. You had better hurry along; your nails are growing 
+black."
+
+Maurice passed into the street. "Her Royal Highness!" he 
+muttered. "The crown princess, and I never suspected. Her name 
+is Alexia, and she serves the princess whenever she can! Maurice,
+you are an ass!"
+
+Having arrived at this conclusion, and brushing the dank hair 
+from his eyes, he thrust his hands into his oozing pockets, and 
+proceeded across the square toward the Continental, wondering if 
+there was a rear entrance. Happily the adventure absorbed all 
+his thoughts. He was quite unobservant of the marked attention 
+bestowed on him. Carriages filled the Strasse, and many persons 
+moved along the walks. It was the promenade hour. The water, 
+which still dripped from his clothes and trickled from his shoes,
+left a conspicuous trail behind; and this alone, without the 
+absence of a hat, would have made him the object of amused and 
+wondering smiles.
+
+A gendarme stared at him, but seeing that he walked straight, 
+said nothing. Maurice, however, was serenely unaware of what was 
+passing around him. He did not notice even the tall, broad-
+shouldered man who, with a gun under his arm, brushed past him, 
+followed by a round-faced German over whose back was slung a 
+game-bag. The man with the gun was also oblivious of his 
+surroundings. He bumped into several persons, who scowled at him,
+but offered no remonstrance after having taken his measure. The 
+German put his pipe into his pocket and advanced a step.
+
+"The other gun, Herr," he said, "would have meant the boar."
+
+"So it would, perhaps," was the reply.
+
+"We've done pretty good work these two days," went on the German;
+but as the other appeared not to have heard he fell to the rear 
+again, a sardonic smile flitting over his oily face.
+
+When Maurice reached the hotel cafe he left an order for a 
+cognac to be sent to his room, whither he repaired at once. As 
+he got into dry clothes he mused.
+
+"I wonder what sort of a man that crown prince is? Now, if I 
+were he, an army could not keep me away from Bleiberg. Either he 
+is no judge of beauty, or the peasant girls hereabout are 
+something extraordinary. Pshaw! a man always makes an ass of 
+himself on his wedding eve; the crown prince is simply starting 
+in early. I believe I'll hang on here till the wedding day; a 
+royal marriage is one of those things which I have yet to see. I 
+have a fortnight or more to knock around in. I should like to 
+know what the duchess will eventually do."
+
+He sipped the last drop of the cognac and went down the stairs.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+BEHIND THE PUPPET BOOTH
+
+While the absent-minded hunter strode down toward the lower town,
+and Maurice sipped his cognac, the king lay in his bed in the 
+palace and aimlessly fingered the counterpane. There was now no 
+beauty in his face. It was furrowed and pale, and an endless 
+fever burned in the sunken eyes--eyes like coals, which suddenly 
+flare before they turn to ash.
+
+The archbishop nor the chancellor could see anything in the dim 
+corners of the royal bed chamber, but he could. It was the 
+mocking finger of death, and it was leveled at him. Spring had 
+come, and summer and autumn and winter, and spring again, but he 
+had not wandered through the green fields, except in dreams, and 
+the byways he loved knew him no more. Ah, to sit still like a 
+spectator and to see the world pass by! To be a part of it, and 
+yet not of it! To see the glory of strength and vigor just 
+beyond one's grasp, the staffs to lean on crumble to the touch, 
+and the stars of hope fade away one by one from the firmament of 
+one's dreams! Here was weariness for which there was no remedy.
+
+Day by day time pressed him on toward the inevitable. No human 
+hand could stay him. He could think, but he could not act. He 
+could move, but he could not stand nor walk. And that philosophy 
+which had in other days sustained him was shattered and 
+threadbare. He was dead, yet he lived. Fate has so many delicate 
+ironies.
+
+He had tried to make his people love him, only to acquire their 
+hate. He had reduced taxation, only to be scorned. He had made 
+the city beautiful, only to be cursed. A paralytic, the theme of 
+ribald verse, the butt of wineroom wits, the object of contumely 
+to his people, his beneficiaries!
+
+The ingratitude of kings bites not half so deep as the 
+ingratitude of the people. Tears filled his eyes, and he fumbled 
+his lips. There were only two bright spots in his futile life. 
+The first was his daughter, who read to him, who was the first 
+in the morning to greet him and last at night to leave him. The 
+second was the evening hour when the archbishop and the 
+chancellor came in to discuss the affairs of state.
+
+"And Prince Frederick has not yet been heard from?" was his 
+first inquiry.
+
+"No, Sire," answered the chancellor. "The matter is altogether 
+mysterious. The police can find no trace of him. He left 
+Carnavia for Bleiberg; he stopped at Ehrenstein, directed his 
+suite to proceed; there, all ends. The ambassador from Carnavia 
+approached me to-day. He scouts the idea of a peasant girl, and 
+hinted at other things."
+
+"Yes," said the king, "there is something behind all this. 
+Frederick is not a youth of peccadilloes. Something has happened 
+to him. But God send him safe and sound to us, so much depends 
+on him. And Alexia?"
+
+"Says nothing," the archbishop answered, "a way with her when 
+troubled."
+
+"And my old friend, Lord Fitzgerald?"
+
+The prelate shook his head sadly. "We have just been made 
+acquainted with his death. God rest his kindly soul."
+
+The king sank deeper into his pillows.
+
+"But we shall hear from his son within a few days," continued 
+the prelate, taking the king's hand in his own. "My son, cease 
+to worry. Alexia's future is in good hands. I have confidence 
+that the public debt will be liquidated on the twentieth."
+
+"Or renewed," said the chancellor. "Your Majesty must not forget 
+that Prince Frederick sacrifices his own private fortune to 
+adjust our indebtedness. That is the wedding gift which he 
+offers to her Highness. One way or the other, we have nothing to 
+fear."
+
+
+"O!" cried the king, "I had forgotten that magnanimity. His 
+disappearance is no longer a mystery. He is dead."
+
+His auditors could not repress the start which this declaration 
+caused them to make.
+
+"Sire," said the chancellor, quietly, "princes are not 
+assassinated these days. Our worry is perhaps all needless. The 
+prince is young, and sometimes youth flings off the bridle and 
+runs away. But he loves her Highness, and the Carnavians are not 
+fickle."
+
+The prelate and the statesman had different ideas in regard to 
+the peasant girl. To the prelate a woman was an unknown quantity,
+and he frowned. The statesman, who had once been young, knew a 
+deal about woman, and he smiled.
+
+"Sometimes, my friends," said the king, "I can see beyond the 
+human glance. I hear the crumbling of walls. But for that lonely 
+child I could die in peace. The crown I wear is of lead; God 
+hasten the day that lifts it from my brow." When the king spoke 
+again, he said: "And that insolent Von Rumpf is gone at last? I 
+am easier. He should have been sent about his business ten years 
+ago. What does Madame the duchess say?"
+
+"So little," answered the chancellor, "that I begin to distrust 
+her silence. But she is a wise woman, though her years are but 
+five and twenty, and she will not make any foolish declaration 
+of war which would only redound to her chagrin."
+
+"What is the fascination in these crowns of straw?" said the 
+king to the prelate. "Ah, my father, you strive for the crown to 
+come; and yet your earnest but misguided efforts placed this 
+earthly one on my head. You were ambitious for me."
+
+"Nay," and the prelate bent his head. "It was self that spoke, 
+worldly aggrandizement. I wished --God forgive me!--to 
+administer not to the prince but to the king. I am punished. The 
+crown has broken your life. It was the passing glory of the 
+world; and I fell."
+
+"And were not my eyes as dazzled by the crown as yours were by 
+the robes? Why did we leave the green hills of Osia? What 
+destiny writes, fate must unfold. And oh, the dreams I had of 
+being great! I am fifty-eight and you are seventy. And look; I 
+am a broken twig, and you tower above me like an ancient oak, 
+and as strong." To the chancellor he said: "And what is the 
+budget?"
+
+"Sire, it is fairly quiet in the lower town. The native troops 
+have been paid, and all signs of discontent abated. The duchess 
+can do nothing but replace von Rumpf. The Marshal is a straw in 
+the wind; von Wallenstein and Mollendorf, I hold a sword above 
+their necks. Nearly half the Diet is with us. There has been 
+some strange meddling in the customs. Englishmen have brought me 
+complaints, through the British legation, regarding such 
+inspections as were never before heard of in a country at peace. 
+I consulted the chief inspector and he affirmed the matter. He 
+was under orders of the minister of police. It appears to me 
+that a certain Englishman is to be kept out of the country for 
+reasons well known to us. I have suspended police power over the 
+customs. Ah, Sire, if you would but agree with Monseigneur to 
+dismiss the cabinet."
+
+"It is too late," said the king.
+
+"There is only one flaw," continued the chancellor. "This flaw 
+is Colonel Beauvais, chief in command of the cuirassiers, who in 
+authority stands between the Marshal and General Kronau. I fear 
+him. Why? Instinct. He is too well informed of my projects for 
+one thing; he laughs when I suggest in military affairs. Who is 
+he? A Frenchman, if one may trust to a name; an Austrian, if one 
+may trust from whence he came, recommended by the premier 
+himself. He entered the cuirassiers as a Captain. You yourself, 
+Sire, made him what he is--the real military adviser of the 
+kingdom. But what of his past? No one knows, unless it be von 
+Wallenstein, his intimate. I, for one, while I may be wrong, 
+trust only those whose past I know, and even then only at 
+intervals."
+
+"Colonel Beauvais?" murmured the king. "I am sure that you are 
+unjustly suspicious. How many times have I leaned on his stout 
+arm! He taught Alexia a thousand tricks of horse, so that to-day 
+she rides as no other woman in the kingdom rides. Would that I 
+stood half so straight and looked at the world half so 
+fearlessly. He is the first soldier in the kingdom."
+
+"All men are honest in your Majesty's eyes," said the archbishop.
+
+"All save the man within me," replied the king.
+
+At this juncture the king's old valet came in with the evening 
+meal; and soon after the prelate and the chancellor withdrew 
+from the chamber.
+
+"How long will he live?" asked the latter.
+
+"A year; perhaps only till to-morrow. Ah, had he but listened to 
+me several years ago, all this would not have come to pass. He 
+would see nothing; he persisted in dreams. With the death of 
+Josef he was convinced that his enemies had ceased to be. Had he 
+listened, I should have dismissed the cabinet, and found enough 
+young blood to answer my purposes; I should have surrounded him 
+with a mercenary army two thousand strong; by now he should have 
+stood strongly entrenched.
+
+"They have robbed him, but you and I were permitted to do 
+nothing. Where is the prosperity of which we formerly boasted? I,
+too, hear crumbling walls. Yet, the son of this Englishman, 
+whose strange freak is still unaccountable, will come at the 
+appointed time; I know the race. He will renew the loan for 
+another ten years. What a fancy! Lord Fitzgerald was an 
+eccentric man. Given a purpose, he pursued it to the end, 
+neither love nor friendship, nor fear swerved him. Do you know 
+that he made a vow that Duke Josef should never sit on this 
+throne, nor his descendants? What were five millions to him, if 
+in giving them he realized the end? The king would never explain 
+the true cause of this Englishman's folly, but I know that it 
+was based on revenge, the cause of which also is a mystery. If 
+only the prince were here!"
+
+"He will come; youth will be youth."
+
+"Perhaps."
+
+"You have never been young."
+
+"Not in that particular sense to which you refer," dryly.
+
+*   *   *   *   *   *
+
+In the chamber of finance Colonel Beauvais leaned over the desk 
+and perused the writing on a slip of paper which the minister 
+had given him. Enough daylight remained to permit the letters to 
+stand out legibly. When he had done the Colonel tossed back the 
+missive, and the minister tore it into shreds and dropped them 
+into the waste basket.
+
+"So much for your pains," said Beauvais. "The spy, who has eaten 
+up ten thousand crowns, is not worth his salt. He has watched 
+this man Hamilton for two days, been his guide in the hills, and 
+yet learns nothing. And the rigor of the customs is a farce."
+
+"This day," replied the minister, "the police lost its 
+jurisdiction over the customs. Complaints have been entered at 
+the British legation, which forwarded them to the chancellor."
+
+"O ho!" The Colonel pulled his mustache.
+
+"I warned you against this. The chancellor is a man to be 
+respected, whatever his beliefs. I warned you and Mollendorf of 
+the police what the result would be. The chancellor has a hard 
+hand when it falls. He was always bold; now he is more so since 
+he practically stands alone. In games of chance one always 
+should play close. You are in a hurry."
+
+"I have waited six years."
+
+"And I have waited fourteen."
+
+"Well, then, I shall pass into the active. I shall watch this 
+Englishman myself. He is likely to prove the agent. Count, the 
+time for waiting is gone. If the debt is liquidated or renewed-- 
+and there is Prince Frederick to keep in mind-- we shall have 
+played and lost. Disgrace for you; for me--well, perhaps there 
+is a power behind me too strong. The chancellor? Pouf! I have no 
+fear of him. But you who laugh at the archbishop--"
+
+"He is too old."
+
+"So you say. But he has dreams unknown to us. He has ceased to 
+act; why? He is waiting for the curtain to rise. Nothing escapes 
+him; he is letting us go to what end we will, only, if we do not 
+act at once, to draw us to a sudden halt. Now to this meddling 
+Englishman: we have offered him a million--five millions for 
+four. He laughs. He is a millionaire. With characteristic 
+bombast he declares that money has no charms. For six months, 
+since his father's death, we have hounded him, in vain. It is 
+something I can not understand. What is Leopold to these 
+Englishmen that they risk a princely fortune to secure him his 
+throne? Friendship? Bah, there is none."
+
+"Not in France nor in Austria. But this man was an Englishman; 
+they leave legacies of friendship."
+
+The Colonel walked to the window and looked down into the 
+gardens. He remained there for a time. Von Wallenstein eyed him 
+curiously. Presently the soldier returned to his seat.
+
+"We are crossing a chasm; a man stands in our way; as we can not 
+go around him, we, being the stronger, push him aside. Eh?"
+
+"You would not kill--" began the minister.
+
+"Let us use the French meaning of the word `suppress.' And why 
+not? Ambition, wherever it goes, leaves a trail of blood. What 
+is a human life in this game we play? A leaf, a grain of sand."
+
+"But, since the prince promises to liquidate the debt, what 
+matters it if the Englishman comes? It is all one and the same."
+
+"Within twenty, nay, within fifteen days, what may not happen?"
+
+"You are ambitious," said von Wallenstein, slyly.
+
+"And who is not?"
+
+"Is a Marshal's baton so much, then, above your present 
+position? You are practically the head of the army."
+
+"A valiant army!" laughing; "five thousand men. Why, Madame the 
+duchess has six thousand and three batteries."
+
+"Her army of six thousand is an expedient; you can raise 
+volunteers to the amount of ten thousand."
+
+"To be sure I could; but supposing I did not want to?"
+
+The minister dropped his gaze and began fingering the paper 
+cutter. The Colonel's real purpose was still an enigma to him. 
+"Come, you have the confidence of the king, the friendship of 
+her Royal Highness. What do you gain in serving us? The baton?"
+
+"You embarrass me. Questions? I should not like to lie to you. 
+Batons were fine things when Louises and Napoleons conferred 
+them. I have thrown my dice into the common cup; let that be 
+sufficient."
+
+"A man who comes from a noble house such as you come from--"
+
+"Ah, count, that was never to be referred to. Be content with my 
+brain and sword. And then, there is the old saying, Give a man 
+an ell, and look to your rod. We are all either jackals or lions,
+puppets or men behind the booth. I am a lion." He rose, drew 
+his saber half-way from the scabbard, and sent it slithering 
+back. "In a fortnight we put it to the touch to win or lose it 
+all, as the poet says. Every man for himself, and let the 
+strongest win, say I."
+
+"You are playing two games," coldly.
+
+"And you? Is it for pure love of Madame the duchess that you 
+risk your head? Come, as you say; admit that you wish to see my 
+hand without showing yours. A baton is not much for me, as you 
+have hinted, but it is all that was promised me. And you, if we 
+win, will still be minister of finances? What is that maggot I 
+see behind your eyes? Is it not spelled `chancellor'? But, 
+remember, Madame has friends to take care of in the event of our 
+success. We can not have all the spoils. To join the kingdom and 
+the duchy will create new offices, to be sure, but we can have 
+only part of them. As to games, I shall, out of the kindness in 
+my heart, tell you that I am not playing two, but three. Guess 
+them if you can. Next to the chancellorship is the embassy to 
+Vienna, and an embassy to Paris is to be created. Madame is a 
+superior woman. Who knows?" with a smile that caused the other 
+to pale.
+
+"You are mad to dream of that."
+
+"As you say, I come of a noble house," carelessly.
+
+"You are mad."
+
+"No, count," the  soldier replied. "I have what Balzac calls a 
+thirst for a full life in a short space."
+
+"I would give a deal to read what is going on in that head of 
+yours."
+
+"Doubtless. But what is to become of our friends the Marshal and 
+Mollendorf? What will be left for them? Perhaps there will be a 
+chamber of war, a chamber of the navy. As a naval minister the 
+Marshal would be nicely placed. There would be no expense of 
+building ships or paying sailors, which would speak well for the 
+economy of the new government. The Marshal is old; we shall send 
+him to Servia. At least the office will pay both his vanity and 
+purse to an extent equal to that of his present office. By the 
+way, nothing has yet been heard from Prince Frederick. Ah, these 
+young men, these plump peasant girls!"
+
+Both laughed.
+
+"Till this evening, then;" and the Colonel went from the room.
+
+The minister of finance applied a match to the tapers. He held 
+the burning match aloft and contemplated the door through which 
+the soldier had gone. The sting of the incipient flame aroused 
+him.
+
+"What," he mused aloud, as he arranged the papers on his desk, 
+"is his third game?"
+
+"It appears to me," said a voice from the wall behind, "that the 
+same question arises in both our minds."
+
+The minister wheeled his chair, his mouth and brows puckered in 
+dismay. From a secret panel in the wall there stepped forth a 
+tall, thin, sour-visaged old man of military presence. He calmly 
+sat down in the chair which Beauvais had vacated.
+
+"I had forgotten all about you, Marshal!" exclaimed the count, 
+smiling uneasily.
+
+"A statement which I am most ready to believe," replied old 
+Marshal Kampf, with a glance which caused the minister yet more 
+uneasiness. "What impressed me among other things was, `But what 
+is to become of our friends the Marshal and Mollendorf?' I am 
+Marshal; I am about to risk all for nothing. Why should I not 
+remain Marshal for the remainder of my days? It is a pleasant 
+thing to go to Vienna once the year and to witness the maneuvers,
+with an honorary position on the emperor's staff. To be Marshal 
+here is to hold a sinecure, yet it has its compensations. The 
+uniforms, gray and gold, are handsome; it is an ostrich plume 
+that I wear in my chapeau de bras; the medals are of gold. My 
+friend, it is the vanity of old age which forgives not." And the 
+Marshal, the bitterest tongue in all Bleiberg, reached over and 
+picked up the cigar which lay by the inkwells. He lit it at one 
+of the tapers, and sank again into the chair. "Count, how many 
+games are you playing?"
+
+"My dear Marshal, it was not I who spoke of games. I am playing 
+no game, save for the legitimate sovereign of this kingdom. I 
+ask for no reward."
+
+"Disinterested man! The inference is, however, that, since you 
+have not asked for anything, you have been promised something. 
+Confess it, and have done."
+
+"Marshal!"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Is it possible that you suspect me?" The cold eyes grew colder, 
+and the thin lips almost disappeared.
+
+"When three men watch each other as do Beauvais, Mollendorf and 
+you, it is because each suspects the other of treachery. You 
+haven't watched me because I am old, but because I am old I have 
+been watching you. Mollendorf aspires to greatness, you have 
+your gaze on the chancellorship, and curse me if the Colonel 
+isn't looking after my old shoes! Am I to give up my uniform, my 
+medals and my plume--for nothing? And who the devil is this man 
+Beauvais, since that is not his name? Is he a fine bird whose 
+feathers have been plucked?"
+
+The minister did not respond to the question; he began instead 
+to fidget in his chair.
+
+"When I gave my word to his Highness the duke, it was without 
+conditions. I asked no favors; I considered it my duty. Let us 
+come to an understanding. Material comfort is necessary to a man 
+of my age. Fine phrases and a medal or two more do not count. I 
+am, then, to go to Servia. You were very kind to hide me in your 
+cabinet."
+
+"It was to show you that I had no secrets from you," quickly.
+
+"Let us pass on. Mollendorf is to go to Paris, where he will be 
+a nonentity, while in his present office he is a power in the 
+land-- Devil take me, but it seems to me that we are all a pack 
+of asses! Our gains will not be commensurate with our losses. 
+The navy? Well, we'll let that pass; the Colonel, I see, loves a 
+joke."
+
+"You forget our patriotism for the true house."
+
+"Why not give it its true name--self-interest?"
+
+"Marshal, in heaven's name, what has stirred your bile?" The 
+minister was losing his patience, a bad thing for him to do in 
+the presence of the old warrior.
+
+"It is something I've been swallowing this past year." The 
+Marshal tipped the ash of his cigar into the waste basket.
+
+"Marshal, will you take the word not of the minister, but of the 
+von Wallenstein, that whatever my reward shall be for my humble 
+services, yours shall not be less?"
+
+"Thanks, but I have asked for no reward. If I accepted gain for 
+what I do, I should not be too old to blush."
+
+"I do not understand."
+
+"Self-interest blinds us. I have nothing but pity for this king 
+whose only crime is an archbishop; and I can not accept gain at 
+his expense; I should blush for shame. Had I my way, he should 
+die in peace. He has not long to live. The archbishop--well, we 
+can not make kings, they are born. But there is one thing more: 
+Over all your schemes is the shadow of Austria."
+
+"Austria?"
+
+"Yes. The Colonel speaks of a power behind him. Bismarck looks 
+hungrily toward Schleswig-Holstein. Austria casts amorous eyes 
+at us. A protectorate?  We did not need it. It was forced on us. 
+When Austria assumed to dictate to us as to who should be king, 
+she also robbed us of our true independence. Twenty years ago 
+there was no duchy; it was all one kingdom. Who created this 
+duchy when Albrecht came on the throne? Austria. Why?  If we 
+live we shall read."  He rose, shook his lean legs. "I have been 
+for the most part neutral. I shall remain neutral. There is an 
+undercurrent on which you have failed to reckon. Austria, 
+mistress of the confederation. There are two men whom you must 
+watch. One is the archbishop."
+
+"The archbishop?" The minister was surprised that the Marshal 
+should concur with the Colonel. "And the other?"
+
+"Your friend the Colonel," starting for the door.
+
+The minister smiled. "Will you not dine with me?" he asked.
+
+"Thanks. But I have the Servian minister on my hands to-night. A 
+propos, tell the Colonel that I decline Belgrade. I prefer to 
+die at home." And he vanished.
+
+Von Wallenstein reviewed the statements of both his visitors.
+
+"I shall watch Monseigneur the archbishop." Then he added, with 
+a half-smile: "God save us if the Marshal's sword were half so 
+sharp as his tongue!  It was careless of me to forget that I had 
+shut him up in the cabinet."
+
+Meanwhile Beauvais walked slowly toward his quarters, with his 
+saber caught up under his arm. Once he turned and gazed at the 
+palace, whose windows began to flash with light.
+
+"Yes, they are puppets and jackals, and I am the lion. For all 
+there shall serve my ends. I shall win, and when I do--" He 
+laughed silently. "Well, I am a comely man, and Madame the 
+duchess shall be my wife."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+MADEMOISELLE OF THE VEIL
+
+The public park at night was a revelation to Maurice, who, 
+lonely and restless, strolled over from the hotel in quest of 
+innocent amusement. He was none the worse for his unintended 
+bath; indeed, if anything, he was much the better for it. His 
+imagination was excited. It was not every day that a man could, 
+at one and the same time, fall out of a boat and into the 
+presence of a princess of royal blood.
+
+He tried to remember all he had said to her, but only two 
+utterances recurred to him; yet these caused him an exhilaration 
+like the bouquet of old wine. He had told her that she was 
+beautiful, indirectly, it was true; she had accepted his 
+friendship, also indirectly, it was true. Now the logical 
+sequence of all this was--but he broke into a light laugh. What 
+little vanity he possessed was without conceit. Princesses of 
+royal blood were beyond the reach of logical sequence; and 
+besides, she was to be married on the twentieth of the month.
+
+He followed one of the paths which led to the pavilion. It was a 
+charming scene, radiant with gas lamps, the vivid kaleidoscope 
+of gowns and uniforms. Beautiful faces flashed past him. There 
+were in the air the vague essences of violet, rose and 
+heliotrope. Sometimes he caught the echo of low laughter or the 
+snatch of a gay song. The light of the lamps shot out on the 
+crinkled surface of the lake in tongues of quivering flame, 
+which danced a brave gavot with the phantom stars; and afar 
+twinkled the dipping oars. The brilliant pavilion, which rested 
+partly over land and partly over water, was thronged.
+
+The band was playing airs from the operas of the day, and 
+Maurice yielded to the spell of the romantic music. He leaned 
+over the pavilion rail, and out of the blackness below he 
+endeavored to conjure up the face of Nell (or was it Kate?) who 
+had danced with him at the embassies in Vienna, fenced and 
+ridden with him, till--till-- with a gesture of impatience he 
+flung away the end of his cigar.
+
+Memory was altogether too elusive. It was neither Nell nor Kate 
+he saw smiling up at him, nor anybody else in the world but the 
+Princess Alexia, whose eyes were like wine in a sunset, whose 
+lips were as red as the rose of Tours in France, and whose voice 
+was sweeter than that throbbing up from the 'cello. If he 
+thought much more of her, there would be a logical sequence on 
+his side. He laughed again--with an effort--and settled back in 
+his chair to renew his interest in the panorama revolving around 
+him.
+
+"They certainly know how to live in these countries," he thought,
+"for all their comic operas. All I need, to have this fairy 
+scene made complete, is a woman to talk to. By George, what's to 
+hinder me from finding one?" he added, seized by the spirit of 
+mischief. He turned his head this way and that. "Ah! doubtless 
+there is the one I'm looking for."
+
+Seated alone at a table behind him was a woman dressed in gray. 
+Her back was toward him, but he lost none of the beautiful 
+contours of her figure. She wore a gray alpine hat, below the 
+rim of which rebellious little curls escaped, curls of a fine 
+red-brown, which, as they trailed to the nape of the firm white 
+neck, lightened into a ruddy gold. Her delicate head was turned 
+aside, and to all appearances her gaze was directed to the 
+entrance to the pavilion. A heavy blue veil completely obscured 
+her features; though Maurice could see a rose-tinted ear and the 
+shadow of a curving chin and throat, which promised much. To a 
+man there is always a mystery lurking behind a veil. So he rose, 
+walked past her, returned and deliberately sat down in the chair 
+opposite to hers. The fact that gendarmes moved among the crowd 
+did not disturb him.
+
+"Good evening, Mademoiselle," he said, politely lifting his hat.
+
+She straightened haughtily. "Monsieur," she said, resentment, 
+consternation and indignation struggling to predominate in her 
+tones, "I did not give you permission to sit down. You are 
+impertinent!"
+
+"O, no," Maurice declared. "I am not impertinent. I am lonesome. 
+In all Bleiberg I haven't a soul to talk to, excepting the hotel 
+waiters, and they are uninteresting. Grant me the privilege of 
+conversing with you for a moment. We shall never meet again; and 
+I should not know you if we did. Whether you are old or young, 
+plain or beautiful, it matters not. My only wish is to talk to a 
+woman, to hear a woman's voice"
+
+"Shall I call a gendarme, Monsieur, and have him search for your 
+nurse?" The attitude which accompanied these words was anything 
+but assuring.
+
+He, however, evinced no alarm. He even laughed. "That was good! 
+We shall get along finely, I am sure."
+
+"Monsieur," she said, rising, "I repeat that I do not desire 
+your company, nor to remain in the presence of your unspeakable 
+effrontery."
+
+"I beseech you!" implored Maurice, also rising. "I am a 
+foreigner, lonesome, unhappy, thousands of miles from home--"
+
+"You are English?" suddenly. She stood with the knuckle of her 
+forefinger on her lips as if meditating. She sat down.
+
+Maurice, greatly surprised, also sat down.
+
+"English?" he repeated. His thought was: "What the deuce! This 
+is the third time I have been asked that. Who is this gay 
+Lothario the women seem to be expecting?" To her he continued: 
+"And why do you ask me that?"
+
+"Perhaps it is your accent. And what do you wish to say to me, 
+Monsieur?" It was a voice of quality; all the anger had gone 
+from it. She leaned on her elbows, her chin in her palms, and 
+through the veil he caught the sparkle of a pair of wonderful 
+eyes. "Let us converse in English," she added. "It is so long 
+since I have had occasion to speak in that tongue." She repeated 
+her question.
+
+"O, I had no definite plan outlined," he answered; "just 
+generalities, with the salt of repartee to season." He pondered 
+over this sudden transition from wrath to mildness. An 
+Englishman? Very well; it might grow interesting.
+
+"Is it customary among the English to request to speak to 
+strangers without the usual formalities of an introduction?"
+
+"I can not say that it is," he answered truthfully enough; "but 
+the procedure is never without a certain charm and excitement."
+
+"Ah; then you were led to address me merely by the love of 
+adventure?"
+
+"That is it; the love of adventure. I should not have spoken to 
+you had you not worn the veil." He remarked that her English was 
+excellent.
+
+"You differ from the average Englishman, who is usually wrapt up 
+in himself and has no desire to talk to strangers. You have been 
+a soldier."
+
+The evolutions of his cane ceased. "How in the world did you 
+guess that?" surprised beyond measure.
+
+"Perhaps there is something suggestive in your shoulders."
+
+He tried to peer behind the veil, but in vain. "Am I speaking to 
+one I have met before?"
+
+"I believe not; indeed, sir, I am positive."
+
+"I have been a soldier, but my shoulders did not tell you that."
+
+"Perhaps I have the gift of clairvoyance," gazing again toward 
+the entrance.
+
+"Or perhaps you have been to Vienna."
+
+"Who knows? Most Englishmen are, or have been, soldiers."
+
+"That is true." Inwardly, "There's my friend the Englishman 
+again. She's guessing closer than she knows. Curious; she has 
+mistaken me for some one she does not know, if that is possible."
+He was somewhat in a haze. "Well, you have remarkable eyes. 
+However, let us talk of a more interesting subject; for instance,
+yourself. You, too, love adventure, that is, if I interpret the 
+veil rightly."
+
+"Yes; I like to see without being seen. But, of course, behind 
+this love of adventure which you possess, there is an important 
+mission."
+
+"Ah!" he thought; "you are not quite sure of me." Aloud, "Yes, I 
+came here to witness the comic opera."
+
+"The comic opera? I do not understand?"
+
+"I believed there was going to be trouble between the duchy and 
+the kingdom, but unfortunately the prima donna has refused the 
+part."
+
+"The prima donna!" in a muffled voice. "Whom do you mean?"
+
+"Son Altesse la Grande Duchesse! 'Voici le sabre de mon pere!'" 
+And he whistled a bar from Offenbach, his eyes dancing.
+
+"Sir!--I!--you do wrong to laugh at us!" a flash from the half-
+hidden eyes.
+
+"Forgive me if I have offended you, but I--"
+
+"Ah, sir, but you who live in a powerful country think we little 
+folk have no hearts, that we have no wrongs to redress, no 
+dreams of conquest and of power. You are wrong."
+
+"And whose side do you defend?"
+
+"I am a woman," was the equivocal answer.
+
+"Which means that you are uncertain."
+
+"I have long ago made up my mind."
+
+"Wonderful! I always thought a woman's mind was like a time-
+table, subject to change without notice. So you have made up 
+your mind?"
+
+"I was born with its purpose defined," coldly.
+
+"Ah, now I begin to doubt."
+
+"What?" with a still lower degree of warmth.
+
+"That you are a woman. Only goddesses do not change their minds--
+sometimes. Well, then you are on the weaker side."
+
+"Or the stronger, since there are two sides."
+
+"And the stronger?" persistently.
+
+"The side which is not the weaker. But the subject is what you 
+English call 'taboo.' It is treading on delicate ground to talk 
+politics in the open--especially in Bleiberg."
+
+"What a diplomat you would make!" he cried with enthusiasm. 
+Certainly this was a red-letter day in his calendar. This 
+adventure almost equalled the other, and, besides, in this 
+instance, his skin was dry; he could enjoy it more thoroughly. 
+Who could this unknown be? "If only you understood the mystery 
+with which you have enshrouded yourself!"
+
+"I do." She drew the veil more firmly about her chin.
+
+"Grant me a favor."
+
+"I am talking to you, sir."
+
+This candor did not disturb him. "The favor I ask is that you 
+will lift the corner of your veil; otherwise you will haunt me."
+
+"I am doomed to haunt you, then. If I should lift the corner of 
+my veil something terrible would happen."
+
+"What! Are you as beautiful as that?"
+
+There was a flash of teeth behind the veil, followed by the 
+ripple of soft laughter. "It is difficult to believe you to be 
+English. You are more like one of those absurd Americans."
+
+Maurice did not like the adjective. "I am one of them," 
+wondering what the effect of this admission would be. "I am not 
+English, but of the brother race. Forgive me if I have imposed 
+on you, but it was your fault. You said that I was English, and 
+I was too lonesome to enlighten you."
+
+"You are an American?" She began to tap her gloved fingers 
+against the table.
+
+"Yes."
+
+Then, to his astonishment, she gave way to laughter, honest and 
+hearty. "How dense of me not to have known the moment you 
+addressed me! Who but the American holds in scorn custom's 
+formalities and usages? Your grammar is good, so good that my 
+mistake is pardonable. The American is always like the terrible 
+infant; and you are a choice example."
+
+Maurice was not so pleased as he might have been. His ears 
+burned. Still, he went forward bravely. "A man never pretends to 
+be an Englishman without getting into trouble."
+
+"I did not ask to speak to you. No one ever pretends to be an 
+American. Why is it you are always ashamed of your country?" 
+with malice aforethought.
+
+Maurice experienced the sting of many bees. "I see that your 
+experience is limited to impostors. I, Mademoiselle, am proud of 
+my country, the great, free land which stands aside from the 
+turmoil and laughs at your petty squabbles, your kings, your 
+princes. Laugh at me; I deserve it for not minding my own 
+business, but do not laugh at my country." His face was flushed; 
+he was almost angry. It was not her words; it was the contempt 
+with which she had invested them. But immediately he was ashamed 
+of his outburst. "Ah, Mademoiselle, you have tricked me; you 
+have found the vulnerable part in my armor. I have spoken like a 
+child. Permit me to apologize for my apparent lack of breeding." 
+He rose, bowed, and made as though to depart.
+
+"Sit down, Monsieur," she said, picking up her French again. "I 
+forgive you. I do more; I admire. I see that your freak had 
+nothing behind it but mischief. No woman need fear a man who 
+colors when his country is made the subject of a jest."
+
+All his anger evaporated. This was an invitation, and he 
+accepted it. He resumed his seat.
+
+"The truth is, as I remarked, I was lonesome. I know that I have 
+committed a transgression, but the veil tempted me."
+
+"It is of no matter. A few moments, and you will be gone. I am 
+waiting for some one. You may talk till that person comes." Her 
+voice was now in its natural tone; and he was convinced that if 
+her face were half as sweet, she must possess rare beauty. "Hush!"
+as the band began to breathe forth Chopin's polonaise. They 
+listened until the music ceased.
+
+"Ah !" said he rapturously, "the polonaise! When you hear it, 
+does there not recur to you some dream of bygone happy hours, 
+the sibilant murmur of fragrant night winds through the crisp 
+foliage, the faint call of Diana's horn from the woodlands, moon-
+fairies dancing on the spider-webs, the glint of the dew on the 
+roses, the far-off music of the surges tossing impotently on the 
+sands, the forgetfulness of time and place and care, and not a 
+cloud 'twixt you and the heavens? Ah, the polonaise!"
+
+"Surely you must be a poet!" declared the Veil, when this 
+panegyric was done.
+
+"No," said he modestly, "I never was quite poor enough for that 
+exalted position." He had recovered his good humor.
+
+"Indeed, you begin to interest me. What is your occupation when 
+not in search of--comic operas?"
+
+"I serve Ananias."
+
+"Ananias?" A pause. "Ah, you are a diplomat?"
+
+"How clever of you to guess."
+
+"Yours is a careless country," observed the Veil.
+
+"Careless?" mystified.
+
+"Yes, to send forth her green and salad youth. Eh, bien! There 
+are hopes for you. If you live you will grow old; you will 
+become bald and reserved; you will not speak to strangers, to 
+while away an idle hour; for permit me, Monsieur, who am wise, 
+to tell you that it is a dangerous practice."
+
+"And do I look so very young?"
+
+"Your beard is that of a boy."
+
+"David slew Goliath."
+
+"At least you have a ready tongue," laughing.
+
+"And you told me that I had been a soldier."
+
+But to this she had nothing to say.
+
+"I am older than you think, Mademoiselle of the Veil. I have 
+been a soldier; I have seen hard service, too. Mine is no 
+cushion sword. Youth? 'Tis a virtue, not a crime; and, besides, 
+it is an excellent disguise."
+
+For some time she remained pensive.
+
+"You are thinking of something, Mademoiselle."
+
+"Do you like adventure?"
+
+"I subsist on it."
+
+"You have been a soldier; you are, then, familiar with the use 
+of arms?"
+
+"They tell me so," modestly. What was coming?
+
+"I have some influence. May I trust you?"
+
+"On my honor," puzzled, yet eager.
+
+"There may be a comic opera, as you call it. War is not so 
+impossible as to be laughed at. The dove may fly away and the 
+ravens come."
+
+"Who in thunder might this woman be?" he thought.
+
+"And," went on the Veil, "an extra saber might be used. Give me 
+your address, in case I should find it necessary to send for you."
+
+Now Maurice was a wary youth. Under ordinary circumstances he 
+would have given a fictitious address to this strange sybil with 
+the prophecy of war; for he had accosted her only in the spirit 
+of fun. But here was the key which he had been seeking, the key 
+to all that had brought him to Bleiberg. Intrigue, adventure, or 
+whatever it was, and to whatever end, he plunged into it. He 
+drew out a card case, selected a card on which he wrote "Room 12,
+Continental," and passed it over the table. She read it, and 
+slipped it into her purse.
+
+Maurice thought: "Who wouldn't join the army with such 
+recruiting officers?"
+
+While the pantomime took place, a man pushed by Maurice's chair 
+and crossed over to the table recently occupied by him. He sat 
+down, lit a short pipe, rested his feet on the lowest rung of 
+the ladder-like railing, and contemplated the western hills, 
+which by now were enveloped in moon mists. Neither Maurice nor 
+his mysterious vis-a-vis remarked him. Indeed, his broad back 
+afforded but small attraction. And if he puffed his pipe 
+fiercely, nobody cared, since the breeze carried the smoke 
+waterward.
+
+After putting the card into her purse, Mademoiselle of the 
+Veil's gaze once more wandered toward the entrance, and this 
+time it grew fixed. Maurice naturally followed it, and he saw a 
+tall soldier in fatigue dress elbowing his way through the crush.
+Many moved aside for him; those in uniform saluted.
+
+"Monsieur," came from behind the veil, "you may go now. I 
+dismiss you. If I have need of you I promise to send for you."
+
+He stood up. "I thank you for the entertainment and the promise 
+you extend. I shall be easily found," committing himself to 
+nothing. "I suppose you are a person of importance in affairs."
+
+"It is not unlikely. I see that you love adventure for its own 
+sake, for you have not asked me if it be the duchy or the 
+kingdom. Adieu, Monsieur," with a careless wave of the gray-
+gloved hand. "Adieu!"
+
+He took his dismissal heroically and shot a final glance at the 
+approaching soldier. His brows came together.
+
+"Where," he murmured, "have I seen that picturesque countenance 
+before? Not in Europe; but where?" He caught the arm of a 
+passing gendarme. "Who is that gentleman in fatigue uniform, 
+coming this way?"
+
+"That, Monsieur," answered the gendarme in tones not unmixed 
+with awe, "is Colonel Beauvais of the royal cuirassiers."
+
+"Thanks. . . . Beauvais; I do not remember the name. Truly I 
+have had experiences to-day. And for what house is Mademoiselle 
+of the Veil? Ravens? War? `Voici le sabre de mon pyre!'" and 
+with a gay laugh he went his way.
+
+Meanwhile Colonel Beauvais arrived at the table, tipped his hat 
+to the Veil, who rose and laid a hand on his arm. He guided her 
+through the pressing crowds.
+
+"Ah, Madame," he said, "you are very brave to choose such a 
+rendezvous."
+
+"Danger is a tonic to the ill-spirited," was the reply.
+
+"If aught should happen to you--"
+
+"It was in accord with her wishes that I am here. She suffers 
+from impatience; and I would risk much to satisfy her whims."
+
+"So would I, Madame; even life." There was a tremor of passion 
+in his voice, but she appeared not to notice it. "Here is a nook 
+out of the lights; we may talk here with safety."
+
+"And what is the news?" she asked.
+
+"This: The man remains still in obscurity. But he shall be found.
+ Listen," and his voice fell into a whisper.
+
+"Austria?" Mademoiselle of the Veil pressed her hands together 
+in excitement. "Is it true?"
+
+"Did I not promise you? It is so true that the end is in sight. 
+Conspiracy is talked openly in the streets, in the cafes, 
+everywhere. The Osians will be sand in the face of a tidal wave. 
+A word from me, and Kronau follows it. It all would be so easy 
+were it not for the archbishop."
+
+"The archbishop?" contemptuously.
+
+"Ay, Madame; he is a man so deep, with a mind so abyssmal, that 
+I would give ten years of my life for a flash of his thoughts. 
+He has some project; apparently he gives his whole time to the 
+king. He loves this weak man Leopold; he has sacrificed the red 
+hat for him, for the hat would have taken him to Italy, as we 
+who procured it intended it should."
+
+"The archbishop? Trust me; one month from now he will be 
+recalled. That is the news I have for you."
+
+"You have taken a weight from my mind. What do you think in 
+regard to the rumor of the prince and the peasant girl?"
+
+"It afforded me much amusement. You are a man of fine inventions."
+
+"Gaze toward the upper end of the pavilion, the end which we 
+have just left. Yes--there. I am having the owner of those broad 
+shoulders watched. That gendarme leaning against the pillar 
+follows him wherever he goes."
+
+"Who is he?"
+
+"That I am trying to ascertain. This much-- he is an Englishman."
+
+Mademoiselle of the Veil laughed. "Pardon my irrelevancy, but 
+the remembrance of a recent adventure of mine was too strong."
+
+
+
+Maurice could not regain his interest in the scene. He strolled 
+in and out of the moving groups, but no bright eyes or winning 
+smiles allured him. Impelled by curiosity, he began to draw near 
+the shadowed nook. Curiosity in a journalist is innate, and time 
+nor change can efface it. Curiosity in those things which do not 
+concern us is wrong. Ethics disavows the practice, though 
+philosophy sustains it. Perhaps in this instance Maurice was 
+philosophical, not ethical. Perhaps he wanted to hear the 
+woman's voice again, which was excusable. Perhaps it was neither 
+the one nor the other, but fate, which directed his footsteps. 
+Certain it is that the subsequent adventures would never have 
+happened had he gone about his business, as he should have done.
+
+"Who is this who stares at us?" asked Beauvais, with a piercing 
+glance and a startled movement of his shoulders.
+
+"A disciple of Pallas and a pupil of Mars," was the answer. "I 
+have been recruiting, Colonel. There is sharpness sometimes in 
+new blades. Do not draw him with your eyes."
+
+The Colonel continued his scrutiny, however, and there was an 
+ugly droop at the corners of his mouth, though it was partly 
+hidden under his mustache.
+
+Maurice, aware that he was not wanted, passed along, having in 
+mind to regain his former seat by the railing.
+
+"Colonel," he mused, "your face grows more familiar every moment.
+It was not associated with agreeable things. But, what were 
+they? Hang it! you shall have a place in my thoughts till I have 
+successfully labeled you. Humph! Some one seems to have 
+appropriated my seat."
+
+He viewed with indecision the broad back of the interloper, who 
+at that moment turned his head. At the sight of that bronzed 
+profile Maurice gave an exclamation of surprise and delight. He 
+stepped forward and dropped his hand on the stranger's shoulder.
+
+"John Fitzgerald, or henceforth garlic shall be my salad!" he 
+cried in loud, exultant tones.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+SOME DIALOGUE, A SPRAINED ANKLE, AND SOME SOLDIERS
+
+The stranger returned Maurice's salute with open-mouthed dismay; 
+the monocle fell from his eye, he grasped the table with one 
+hand and pushed back the chair with the other, while Maurice 
+heard the name of an exceedingly warm place.
+
+The gendarme, who was leaning against the pillar, straightened, 
+opened his jaws, snapped them, and hurried off.
+
+"Maurice--Maurice Carewe?" said the bewildered Englishman.
+
+"No one else, though I must say you do not seem very glad to see 
+me," Maurice answered, conscious that he was all things but 
+welcome.
+
+"Hang you, I'm not!" incogitantly.
+
+"Go to the devil, then!" cried Maurice, hotly.
+
+"Gently," said Fitzgerald, catching Maurice by the coat and 
+pulling him down into a chair. "Confound you, could you not have 
+made yourself known to me without yelling my name at the top of 
+your voice?"
+
+"Are you ashamed of it?" asked Maurice, loosing his coat from 
+Fitzgerald's grip.
+
+"I'm afraid of it," the Englishman admitted, in a lowered voice. 
+"And your manly, resonant tones have cast it abroad. I am here 
+incognito."
+
+"Who the deuce are you?"
+
+"I am Don Jahpet of Armenia; that is to say that I am a marked 
+man. And now, as you would inelegantly express it, you have put 
+a tag on me. When I left you in Vienna the other day I lied to 
+you. I am sorry. I should have trusted you, only I did not wish 
+you to risk your life. You would have insisted on coming along."
+
+"Risked my life?" echoed Maurice. "How many times have I not 
+risked it? By the way," impressed by a sudden thought, "are you 
+the Englishman every one seems to be expecting?"
+
+"Yes." Fitzgerald knocked his pipe against the railing. "I am 
+the man. Worse luck! Was any one near when you called me by 
+name?"
+
+"Only one of those wooden gendarmes."
+
+"Only one of those wooden gendarmes!" ironically. "Only one of 
+those dogs who have been at my heels ever since I arrived. And 
+he, having heard, has gone back to his master. Well, since you 
+have started the ball rolling, it is no more than fair that you 
+should see the game to its end."
+
+"What's it all about?" asked Maurice, his astonishment growing 
+and growing.
+
+"Where are your rooms?"
+
+"You have something important to tell me?"
+
+"Perhaps you may think so. At the Continental? Come along."
+
+They passed out of the pavilion, along the path to the square, 
+thence to the terrace of the Continental, which they mounted. 
+Not a word was said, but Maurice was visibly excited, and by 
+constant gnawing ruined his cigar. He conducted his friend to 
+the room on the second floor, the window of which opened on a 
+private balcony. Here he placed two chairs and a small table; 
+and with a bottle of tokayer between them they seated themselves.
+
+"What's it all about?"
+
+"O, only a crown and a few millions in money."
+
+"Only a crown and a few millions in money," repeated Maurice 
+very slowly, for his mind could scarcely accept Fitzgerald and 
+these two greatest treasures on earth.
+
+A gendarme had leisurely followed them from the park. He took 
+aside a porter and quietly plied him with questions. Evidently 
+the answers were satisfactory, for he at once departed.
+
+Maurice stared at the Englishman.
+
+"Knocks you up a bit, eh?" said Fitzgerald. "Well, I am rather 
+surprised myself; that is to say, I was."
+
+"Fire away," said Maurice.
+
+"To begin with, if I do not see the king to-morrow, it is not 
+likely that I ever shall."
+
+"The king?"
+
+"My business here is with his Majesty."
+
+Maurice filled the glasses and pushed one across the table.
+
+"Here's!" said he, and gulped.
+
+Fitzgerald drank slowly, however, as if arranging in his mind 
+the salient points in his forthcoming narrative.
+
+"I have never been an extraordinarily communicative man; what I 
+shall tell you is known only to my former Colonel and myself. At 
+Calcutta, where you and I first met, I was but a Lieutenant in 
+her Majesty's. To-day I am burdened with riches such as I know 
+not how to use, and possessor of a title which sounds strange in 
+my ears."
+
+The dim light from the gas-jet in the room flickered over his 
+face, and Maurice saw that it was slightly contorted, as if by pain.
+
+"My father was Lord Fitzgerald."
+
+"What!" cried Maurice, "the diplomat, the historian, the 
+millionaire?"
+
+"The same. Thirteen years ago we parted--a misunderstanding. I 
+never saw him again. Six months ago he died and left me a 
+fortune, a title and a strange legacy; and it is this legacy 
+which brings me to Bleiberg. Do you know the history of Leopold?"
+
+"I do. This throne belongs to the house of Auersperg, and the 
+Osian usurps. The fact that the minister of the duchess has been 
+discredited was what brought me here. Continue."
+
+And Fitzgerald proceeded briefly to acquaint the other with the 
+strange caprice of his father; how, when he left Bleiberg, he 
+had been waylaid and the certificates demanded; how he had 
+entrusted them to his valet, who had gone by another route; how 
+the duke had sought him in Vienna and made offers, bribes and 
+threats; how he had laughed at all, and sworn that Duke Josef 
+should never be a king.
+
+"My father wished to save Leopold in spite of himself; and then, 
+he had no love for Josef. At a dinner given at the legation, 
+there was among others a toast to her Majesty. The duke laughed 
+and tossed the wine to the floor. It lost him his crown, for my 
+father never forgave the insult. When the duke died, his 
+daughter took up the work with surprising vigor. It was all 
+useless; father was a rock, and would listen neither to bribes 
+nor threats. Now they are after me. They have hunted me in India,
+London, and Vienna. I am an obscure soldier, with all my titles 
+and riches; they threaten me with death. But I am here, and my 
+father's wishes shall be carried out. That is all. I am glad 
+that we have come together; you have more invention than I have."
+
+"But why did you come yourself? You could have sent an agent. 
+That would have been simple."
+
+"An agent might be bought. It was necessary for me to come. 
+However, I might have waited till the twentieth. I should have 
+come openly and informed the British minister of my mission. As 
+to the pheasants, they could have waited. Perhaps my fears are 
+without foundation, unless you have been the unconscious cause 
+of my true name being known. Every one has heard the story. It 
+is known as 'Fitzgerald's folly,' and has gone the rounds of the 
+diplomatic circles for ten years. I shall ask for an audience to-
+morrow morning."
+
+"And these certificates fall due the same day that the princess 
+is to be married," mused his auditor. "What a yarn for the 
+papers!" his love of sensation being always close to the surface.
+"Your father, you say, took four million crowns; what became of 
+the fifth?"
+
+"The duke was permitted to secure that."
+
+"A kind of court plaster for his wounds, eh? Why don't you get 
+that other million and run the kingdom yourself? It's a great 
+opportunity." Maurice laughed.
+
+"Her Royal Highness must not be forgotten. My father thought 
+much of her."
+
+"But really I do not see why you are putting yourself to all 
+this trouble. The king will pay off the indebtedness; the 
+kingdom is said to be rich, or Austria wouldn't meddle with it."
+
+"The king, on the twentieth of this month, will be some three 
+millions short."
+
+"And since he can not pay he is bankrupt. Ah, I see the plan. 
+The duke knew that he wouldn't be able to pay."
+
+"You have hit it squarely."
+
+"But Austria, having placed Leopold here, is his sponsor."
+
+"Austria has too many debts of her own; she will have to disavow 
+her protege, which is a fact not unthought of by the house of 
+Auersperg. By constant machination and intrigue the king's 
+revenues have been so depleted that ordinary debts are 
+troublesome. The archbishop, to stave off the probable end, 
+brought about the alliance between the houses of Carnavia and 
+Osia. My business here is to arrange for a ten years' renewal of 
+the loan, and that is what the duchess wishes to prevent, mon 
+ami. What's to become of the king and his daughter if aught in 
+the way of mishap should befall me? I have not seen the king, 
+but I have seen her Royal Highness."
+
+"What is she like?" Maurice asked, innocently. He saw no reason 
+why he should confide to the Englishman his own adventure.
+
+"I'm not much of a judge," said Fitzgerald cautiously. "I have 
+lived most of my life in cantonments where women were old and 
+ran mostly to tongue. I should say that she is beautiful." A 
+short sigh followed this admission.
+
+"Ah!" said Maurice with a loud laugh to cover the sudden pang of 
+jealousy which seized him; "in gratitude for saving her father's 
+throne the daughter will fall in love with you. It is what the 
+dramatist calls logical sequence."
+
+"Why don't you write novels? Your imagination has no bounds."
+
+"Writing novels is too much like work. But I'm serious. Your 
+position in the world to-day is nearly equal to hers, and 
+certainly more secure. Ah, yes; I must not forget that prince. 
+He's a lucky dog--and so are you, for that matter. Millions and 
+titles! And I have slapped you cavalierly on the back, smoked 
+your cigars, drunk your whisky, and beaten you at poker!" 
+comically.
+
+"Ah, Maurice, it is neither wealth nor titles; it is freedom. I 
+am like a boy out of school for good and all. Women, the society 
+of women, who are the salt of earth; that is what I want. I have 
+knocked out thirteen years of my life in furnace holes, and have 
+not met nor spoken to a dozen young women in all that time. How 
+I envy you! You know every one; you have seen the world;. you 
+are at home in Paris, or London, or Vienna; you have enjoyed all 
+I wish to enjoy."
+
+"Why did you ever get into the army?"
+
+"You ought to know."
+
+"But it was bread and butter to me."
+
+"Well, I was young; I saw fame and glory. If the matter under 
+hand is closed to-morrow, what do you say to the Carpathians and 
+bears? I shall not remain here; some one will be looking for 
+blood. What do you say?"
+
+"I don't know," said Maurice, thoughtfully. He was thinking of 
+Mademoiselle of the Veil and her prophecy of ravens. "I don't 
+know that I shall be able. It is my opinion that your part in 
+the affair is only a curtain-raiser to graver things. Every one 
+of importance in town goes about with an air of expectancy. I 
+never saw anything like it. It is the king, the archbishop and 
+the chancellor against two hundred thousand. You're a soldier; 
+can't you smell powder?"
+
+"Powder! You do not believe the duchess mad enough to wage war?"
+
+"Trust a woman to do what no one dreams she will."
+
+"But Austria would be about her ears in a minute!"
+
+"Maybe. Have you seen this Colonel Beauvais of the royal 
+cuirassiers, the actual head of the army here?"
+
+"A fine soldier," said the Englishman, heartily. "Rides like a 
+centaur and wields a saber as if it were a piece of straw."
+
+"I can hold a pretty good blade myself; I've an idea that I can 
+lick him at both games."
+
+Fitzgerald laughed good-naturedly. "There is the one flaw in 
+your make-up. I admit your horsemanship; but the saber! Believe 
+me, it is only the constant practice and a wrist of iron which 
+make the saber formidable. You are more familiar with the pen; I 
+dare say you could best him at that."
+
+"What makes you think I can not lick him?"
+
+"Since when have the saber and the civilian been on terms? And 
+these continental sabers are matchless, the finest in the world. 
+I trust you will steer clear of the Colonel; if you have any 
+challenge in mind, spring it on me, and I'll let you down easy." 
+Then: "Why the devil do you want to lick him, anyway?"
+
+"I don't know," said Maurice. "I had a close range to-night, and 
+somehow the man went against the grain. Well, Jack, I'll stay 
+with you in this affair, though, as the county judge at home 
+would say, it's out of my circuit."
+
+They shook hands across the table.
+
+"Come," said Fitzgerald; "a toast, for I must be off."
+
+"What do you say to her Royal Highness?"
+
+"Let us make it general: to all women!"
+
+They set down the glasses and shook hands again.
+
+"It seemed good to run across you in Vienna, Maurice. You were 
+one of the bright spots in the old days."
+
+"Do you want me to walk with you to the Grand? It's a fine night,"
+said Maurice, waving his hand toward the moon. "By George, 
+what a beautiful place this end of Bleiberg is! I do not wonder 
+that the duchess covets it."
+
+"No, I'll go alone. All I have to do is to march straight up the 
+Strasse."
+
+"Well, good-night and good luck to you," said Maurice, as he led 
+the Englishman into the hallway. "Look me up when you have 
+settled the business. I say, but it gets me; it's the strangest 
+thing I ever heard." And he waited till the soldierly form 
+disappeared below the landing.
+
+Then he went back to his chair on the balcony to think it over. 
+At four o'clock that afternoon he had grumbled of dullness. He 
+lit a pipe, and contemplated the soft and delicate blues of 
+earth and heaven, the silvery flashes on the lake, and the slim 
+violet threads of smoke which wavered about his head. It was 
+late. Now and then the sound of a galloping horse was borne up 
+by the breeze, and presently Maurice heard the midnight bell 
+boom forth from the sleepy spires of the cathedral--where the 
+princess was to be married.
+
+One by one the lamps of the park went out, but the moon shone on,
+lustrous and splendid. First he reviewed his odd adventure in 
+the archbishop's gardens. He had spoken to princesses before, 
+but they were women of the world, hothouse roses that bloom and 
+wither in a short space. The atmosphere which surrounded this 
+princess was idyllic, pastoral. She had seen nothing of the 
+world, its sports and pastimes, and the art of playing at love 
+was unknown to her. Again he could see her serious eyes, the 
+delicate chin and mouth, the oval cheeks, and the dog that 
+followed in her steps. Here was an indelible picture which time 
+could never efface. Something stirred in his heart, and he 
+sighed.
+
+And ah, the woman in the veil! Who could she be? The more he 
+thought of her the more convinced he was that she stood high in 
+the service of any one but Leopold of Osia. And Fitzgerald! That 
+sober old soldier concerned with crowns and millions! It was 
+incredible; it was almost laughable. They had met up-country in 
+India, and had hunted, and Maurice had saved the Englishman's 
+life. Occasionally they had corresponded.
+
+"Well, to bed," said the young diplomat. "This has been a full 
+day." And, like the true newspaper man he was, for all his 
+diplomacy, he emptied the bottle and entered the room. He was 
+about to disrobe, when some one rapped on the door. He opened it,
+and beheld a man in the livery of the Grand Hotel. He was 
+breathing hard.
+
+"Herr Carewe?"
+
+"Yes. What's wanted?"
+
+"Herr Hamilton--"
+
+"Hamilton? O, yes. Go on."
+
+"Herr Hamilton bade me to tell your Excellency that in returning 
+to the hotel he sprained his ankle, and wishes to know if Herr 
+would not be so kind as to spend the night with him."
+
+"Certainly. Run down to the office, and I shall be with you 
+shortly." Again alone, Maurice opened his trunk. He brought 
+forth a pint flask of brandy, some old handkerchiefs to be used 
+as bandages, and a box of salve he used for bruises when on 
+hunting expeditions. In turning over his clothes his hand came 
+into contact with his old army revolver. He scratched his head. 
+"No, it's too much like a cannon, and there's no room for it in 
+my pockets." He pushed it aside, rose and slammed the lid of the 
+trunk. "Sprained his ankle? He wasn't gone more than an hour. 
+How the deuce is he to see the king to-morrow? Probably wishes 
+to appoint me his agent. That's it. Very well." He proceeded to 
+the office, where he found the messenger waiting for him. "Come 
+on, and put life into your steps."
+
+Together they traversed the moonlit thoroughfare. Few persons 
+were astir. Once the night patrol clattered by. They passed 
+through the markets, and not far ahead they could see the 
+university. It looked like a city prison.
+
+"This is the hotel, Herr," said the messenger.
+
+They entered. Maurice approached the proprietor, who was pale 
+and flurried; but as Maurice had never seen the natural repose 
+of his countenance, he thought nothing of it.
+
+"My friend, Herr Hamilton, has met with an accident. Where is 
+his room?"
+
+"Number nine; Johann will show you." He acted as if he had 
+something more to say, but a glance from the round-faced porter 
+silenced him. Maurice lost much by not seeing this glance. He 
+followed the messenger up the stairs.
+
+There were no transoms. The corridor was devoid of illumination. 
+The porter struck a match and held it close to the panel of a 
+door under which a thread of light streamed.
+
+"This is it, Herr," he bawled, so loudly that Maurice started.
+
+"There was no need of waking the dead to tell me," he growled.
+
+The door opened, and before Maurice could brace himself--for the 
+interior of the room made all plain to him--he was violently 
+pushed over the threshold on to his knees. He was up in an 
+instant. The room was filled with soldiers, foot soldiers of the 
+king, so it seemed.
+
+"What the devil is this?" he demanded, brushing his knees and 
+cursing himself because he had not brought his Colt when fate 
+had put it almost in his hand.
+
+"It is a banquet, young man. We were waiting for the guest of 
+honor."
+
+Maurice turned to the speaker, and saw a medium-sized man with 
+gray hair and a frosty stubble of a mustache. He wore no 
+insignia of office. Indeed, as Maurice gazed from one man to the 
+next he saw that there were no officers; and it came to him that 
+these were not soldiers of the king. He was in a trap. He 
+thought quickly. Fitzgerald was in trouble, perhaps on his 
+account. Where was he?
+
+"I do not see my friend who sprained his ankle," he said coolly.
+
+This declaration was greeted with laughter.
+
+"Evidently I have entered the wrong room," he continued 
+imperturbably. He stepped toward the door, but a burly 
+individual placed his back to it.
+
+"Am I a prisoner, or the victim of a practical joke?"
+
+"Either way," said the man with the frosty mustache.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"You have recently formed a dangerous acquaintance, and we 
+desire to aid you in breaking it."
+
+"Are you aware, gentlemen--no, I don't mean gentlemen--that I am 
+attached to the American legation in Vienna, and that my person 
+is inviolable?"
+
+Everybody laughed again--everybody but Maurice.
+
+"Allow me to correct you," put in the elderly man, who evidently 
+was the leader in the affair. "You are not attached; you are 
+detached. Gentlemen, permit me, M. Carewe, detache of the 
+American legation in Vienna, who wishes he had stayed there."
+
+Maurice saw a brace of revolvers on the mantel. The table stood 
+between.
+
+"Well," he said, banteringly, "bring on your banquet; the hour 
+is late."
+
+"That's the way; don't lose your temper, and no harm will come 
+to you."
+
+"What do you wish of me?"
+
+"Merely the pleasure of your company. Lieutenant, bring out the 
+treasure."
+
+One of the soldiers entered the next room and soon returned 
+pushing Fitzgerald before him. The Englishman was bound and gagged.
+
+"How will you have the pheasant served?" asked the leader.
+
+"Like a gentleman!" cried Maurice, letting out a little of his 
+anger. "Take out the gag; he will not cry."
+
+The leader nodded, and Fitzgerald's mouth was relieved. He spat 
+some blood on the carpet, then looked at his captors, the devil 
+in his eyes.
+
+"Proceed to kill me and have done," he said.
+
+"Kill you? No, no!"
+
+"I advise you to, for if you do not kill me, some day I shall be 
+free again, and then God help some of you."
+
+Maurice gazed at the candles on the table, and smiled.
+
+"I'm sorry they dragged you into it, Maurice," said Fitzgerald.
+
+"I'm glad they did. What you want is company." There was a 
+glance, swift as light. It went to the mantel, then passed to 
+the captive. "Well," said Maurice, "what is next on your damned 
+program?"
+
+"The other side of the frontier."
+
+"Maybe," said Maurice.
+
+With an unexpected movement he sent the table over, the lights 
+went out; and he had judged the distance so accurately that he 
+felt his hands close over the revolvers.
+
+"The door! the door!" a voice bawled. "Knock down any one who 
+attempts to pass."
+
+This was precisely what Maurice desired. With the soldiers 
+massed about the door, he would be free to liberate Fitzgerald; 
+which he did. He had scarcely completed the task, when a flame 
+spurted up. The leader fearlessly lit a candle and righted the 
+table. He saw both his prisoners, one of them with extended arms,
+at the ends of which glistened revolver barrels.
+
+"The devil!" he said.
+
+"Maybe it is," replied Maurice. "Now, my gay banqueteers, open 
+the door; and the first man who makes a suspicious movement will 
+find that I'm a tolerable shot."
+
+"Seize him, your Excellency!" shouted one of the troopers. 
+"Those are my revolvers he has, and they are not loaded."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+THE RED CHATEAU
+
+Two o'clock in the morning, on the king's highway, and a small 
+body of horse making progress. The moon was beginning to roll 
+away toward the west, but the world was still frost-white, and 
+the broad road stretched out like a silver ribbon before the 
+horsemen, until it was lost in the blue mist of the forests.
+
+The troop consisted of ten men, two of whom rode with their 
+hands tied behind their backs and their feet fastened under the 
+bellies of the horses. The troop was not conspicuous for this 
+alone. Three others had their heads done up in handkerchiefs, 
+and a fourth carried his arm in a sling.
+
+Five miles to the rear lay the sleeping city of Bleiberg, twenty 
+miles beyond rose the formidable heights of the Thalians. At 
+times the horses went forward at a gallop, but more often they 
+walked; when they galloped the man with his arm in the sling 
+complained. Whenever the horses dropped into a walk, the leader 
+talked to one of the prisoners.
+
+"You fight like the very devil, my friend," he said; "but we 
+were too many by six. Mind, I think none the less of you for 
+your attempt; freedom is always worth fighting for. As I said 
+before, no harm is meant to you, physically; as to the moral 
+side, that doesn't concern me. You have disabled four of my men, 
+and have scarcely a dozen scratches to show for it. I wanted to 
+take only four men with me; I was ordered to take eight. The 
+hand of providence is in it."
+
+"You wouldn't be so polite, Colonel," spoke up the trooper whose 
+arm was in the sling, "if you had got this crack."
+
+"Baron, who told you to call me Colonel?" the leader demanded.
+
+"Why, we are out of the city; there's no harm now that I can see."
+
+"Is it possible," said Maurice ironically, "that I have had the 
+honor of hitting a baron on the head and breaking his arm?"
+
+The baron muttered a curse and fell back.
+
+"And you," went on Maurice, addressing the leader, "are a 
+Colonel?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"For the duchess?"
+
+"For the duchess."
+
+"A black business for you, Colonel; take my word for it."
+
+"A black business it is; but orders are orders. Have you ever 
+been a soldier?"
+
+"I have."
+
+"Well, there's nothing more to be said."
+
+"America--" Maurice began.
+
+"Is several thousand miles away."
+
+"Not if you reckon from Vienna."
+
+"I'd rather not reckon, if it's all the same to you. Your friend--
+I might say, your very valuable friend--takes the matter too 
+much to heart."
+
+"He's not a talkative man."
+
+Fitzgerald looked straight ahead, stern and impassive.
+
+"But now that we are talking," said Maurice, "I should like to 
+know how the deuce you got hold of my name and dragged me into 
+this affair?"
+
+"Simple enough. A card of yours was given to me; on it was your 
+name and address. The rest was easy."
+
+Maurice grew limp in the saddle.
+
+"By George! I had forgotten! The woman is at the bottom of it."
+
+"Quite likely. I thought you'd come to that conclusion. 
+Sometimes when we play with foxes they lead us into bear traps. 
+Young man, witness these gray hairs; never speak to strange 
+women, especially when they wear veils."
+
+Fitzgerald was now attending the conversation.
+
+"And who is this woman?" asked Maurice.
+
+"Mademoiselle of the Veil, according to your picturesque 
+imagination; to me she is the intimate friend and adviser of her 
+Highness Stephonia." He wheeled to the troopers with a laugh: 
+"Hoch, you beggars, hoch!"
+
+Maurice indulged in some uncomplimentary remarks, among which 
+was: "I'm an ass!"
+
+"Every man improves on making that discovery; the Darwinian 
+theory is wrong."
+
+After a pause Maurice said: "How did you get on the ground so 
+quickly?"
+
+"We arrived yesterday afternoon as the escort of your charmer. A 
+pretty woman finds it troublesome to travel alone in these parts.
+When you slapped your friend on the back and bawled out his 
+name--a name known from one end of the kingdom to the other--the 
+plan of action was immediately formed. You were necessary, for 
+it was taken for granted that you knew too much. You had also 
+promised your sword," with a chuckle.
+
+"I made no promise," said Maurice. "I only said that I should 
+easily be found when wanted."
+
+"Well, so you were; there's no gainsaying that."
+
+Maurice said some more uncomplimentary things.
+
+"It was neatly done, you will admit. Life is a game of cards; he 
+wins who plays first."
+
+"Or he doesn't. Colonel, a game is won only when it is played'."
+
+"That's true enough."
+
+"Kings are a tolerable bother on earth," Maurice declared, 
+trying to ease his wrists by holding them higher against his 
+back.
+
+"What do you know about them?"
+
+"When I was in the army I often fell in with three or four of a 
+night."
+
+"Eh?--kings?"
+
+"Yes; but usually I was up against aces or straight flushes."
+
+"Cards! Well, well; when you get down to the truth of the matter,
+real kings differ but little from the kings in pasteboard; 
+right side up, or wrong side up, they serve the purpose of those 
+who play them. There's a poor, harmless devil back there," with 
+a nod toward Bleiberg. "He never injured a soul. Perhaps that's 
+it; had he been cruel, avaricious, sly, all of them would be 
+cringing at his feet. Devil take me--but I'm a soldier," he 
+broke off abruptly; "it's none of my business."
+
+"Have you any titles?" Maurice asked presently.
+
+"Titles?" The Colonel jerked around on his horse. "Why?"
+
+"O," said Maurice carelessly, "I thought it not unlikely that 
+you might have a few lying around loose."
+
+The Colonel roared. "You Americans beat the very devil with your 
+questions. Well, I am politely known as Count Mollendorf, if 
+that will gratify you."
+
+"What! brother of Mollendorf of the king's police?"
+
+"God save the mark! No; I am an honest man --some of the time."
+
+Maurice laughed; the old fellow was amusing, and besides, this 
+conversation helped to pass away the time.
+
+"Wake up, Jack; here's entertainment," he said.
+
+A scowl added itself to the stern expression on Fitzgerald's 
+face.
+
+"I trust that none of your teeth are loose," ventured the 
+Colonel.
+
+"If they are, they'll be tight enough ere many days have passed,"
+was the threatening reply.
+
+"Beware the dog!" cried the Colonel, and he resumed his place at 
+the head of the little troop.
+
+Maurice took this opportunity to bend toward Fitzgerald. "Have 
+you anything of importance about you?" he whispered 
+significantly.
+
+"Nothing. But God send that no chambermaid change the sheet in 
+my bed at the hotel."
+
+"Are they--"
+
+"Silence." Fitzgerald saw the trooper next with his hand to his ear.
+
+After a time the Colonel sang out: "Fifteen miles more, with 
+three on the other side, men; we must put more life into us. A 
+trot for a few miles. The quicker the ride is done, baron, the 
+quicker the surgeon will look to your arm."
+
+And silence fell upon the troop. Occasionally a stray horse in 
+the fields whinneyed, and was answered from the road; sometimes 
+the howl of a dog broke the monotony. On and on they rode; hour 
+and mile were left behind them. The moon fell lower and lower, 
+and the mountains rose higher and higher, and the wind which had 
+risen had a frosty sting to it. Maurice now began to show the 
+true state of his temper by cursing his horse whenever it rubbed 
+against one of its fellows. His back was lame, and there was a 
+dull pain in one of his shoulders. When he had made the rush for 
+the door, clubbing right and left with the empty revolvers, he 
+had finally been thrown on an overturned chair.
+
+"Here, hang you!" he said to the trooper who held the bridle of 
+his horse, "I'm cold; you might at least turn up my collar about 
+my throat."
+
+"You are welcome to my cloak," said the trooper, disengaging 
+that article from his shoulders.
+
+"Thank you," said Maurice, somewhat abashed by the respectful tone.
+
+The trooper offered his blanket to Fitzgerald.
+
+"I wish no favors," said the Englishman, thanklessly.
+
+The trooper shrugged, and caught up Maurice's bridle.
+
+At length the troop arrived at the frontier. There was no sign 
+of life at the barrack. They passed unchallenged.
+
+"What!" exclaimed Maurice, "do they sleep here at night, then? A 
+fine frontier barrack." He had lived in hopes of more 
+disturbance and a possible chance for liberty.
+
+"They will wake up to-day," answered the Colonel; "that is, if 
+the wine we gave them was not too strong. Poor devils; they must 
+be good and cold by this time, since we have their clothes. What 
+do you think of a king whose soldiers drink with any strangers 
+who chance along?"
+
+Maurice became resigned. To him the present dynasty was as 
+fragile as glass, and it needed but one strong blow to shatter 
+it into atoms. And the one hope rode at his side, sullen and 
+wrathful, but impotent; the one hope the king had to save his 
+throne. He had come to Bleiberg in search of excitement, but 
+this was altogether more than he had bargained for.
+
+The horses began to lift and were soon winding in and out of the 
+narrow mountain pass. The chill of the overhanging snows fell 
+upon them.
+
+"It wouldn't have hurt you to accept the blanket," said Maurice 
+to Fitzgerald.
+
+"Curse it! I want nothing but two minutes freedom. It would be 
+warm enough then."
+
+"No confidences, gentlemen," warned the Colonel; "I understand 
+English tolerably well."
+
+"Go to the devil, then, if you do!" said Fitzgerald 
+discourteously.
+
+"When the time comes," tranquilly. "Of the two I like your 
+friend the better. To be resigned to the inevitable is a sign of 
+good mental balance."
+
+"I am not used to words," replied the Englishman.
+
+"You are used to orders. I am simply obeying mine. If I took you 
+off your guard it was because I had to, and not because I liked 
+that method best. Look alive, men; it's down hill from now on."
+
+A quarter of an hour later the troop arrived at the duchy's 
+frontier post. There was no sleep here. The Colonel flung 
+himself from his horse and exercised his legs.
+
+"Sergeant," he said, "how far behind the others?"
+
+"They passed two hours ago, Excellency. And all is well?" 
+deferentially.
+
+"All is indeed well," with a gesture toward the prisoners.
+
+"I've a flask of brandy in my hip pocket," said Maurice. "Will 
+you help me to a nip, Colonel?"
+
+"Pardon me, gentlemen; I had forgotten that your hands were 
+still in cords. Corporal," to a trooper, "relieve their hands."
+
+The prisoners rubbed their wrists and hands, which were numb and 
+cold. Maurice produced his flask.
+
+"I was bringing it along for your sprained ankle," he said, as 
+he extended the flask to Fitzgerald, who drank a third of it. 
+"I'd offer you some, Colonel, only it would be like heaping 
+coals of fire on your head; and, besides, I want it all myself." 
+He returned the emptied flask to his pocket, feeling a moderate 
+warmth inside.
+
+"Drink away, my son," said the Colonel, climbing into the saddle;
+"there'll be plenty for me for this night's work. Forward!"
+
+The troop took up the march again, through a splendid forest 
+kept clear of dead wood by the peasants. It abounded with game. 
+The shrill cry of the pheasants, the rustle of the partridges in 
+the underbrush, the bark of the fox, all rose to the ears of the 
+trespassers. The smell of warm earth permeated the air, and the 
+sky was merging from silver into gold.
+
+When Napoleon humiliated Austria for the second time, one of his 
+mushroom nobles, who placed too much faith in the man of destiny,
+selected this wooded paradise as a residence. He built him a 
+fine castle of red brick, full of wide halls and drawing rooms 
+and chambers of state, and filled it with fabulous paintings, 
+Gobelin tapestries, and black walnut wainscot. He kept a small 
+garrison of French soldiers by converting the huge stables 
+partly into a barrack. One night the peasantry rose. There was a 
+conflict, as the walls still show; and the prince by patent fled,
+no one knew where. After its baptism in blood it became known 
+far and wide as the Red Chateau. Whenever children were unruly, 
+they were made docile by threats of the dark dungeons of the Red 
+Chateau, or the ghosts of the French and German peasants who 
+died there. As it now stood, it was one of the summer residences 
+of her Highness.
+
+It was here that the long night's journey came to an end.
+
+"Gentlemen," said the Colonel, dismounting, "permit me, in the 
+name of her Highness, to offer you the hospitality of Red 
+Chateau. Consider; will you lighten my task by giving me your 
+word of honor to make no attempt to escape? Escape is possible, 
+but not probable. There are twenty fresh men and horses in the 
+stables. Come, be reasonable. It will be pleasanter on both 
+sides."
+
+"So far as I'm concerned," said Maurice, who needed liberty not 
+half so much as sleep, "I pass my word."
+
+"And you, sir?" to Fitzgerald.
+
+Fitzgerald gazed about him. "Very well," he said, as he saw the 
+futility of a struggle.
+
+"Your humble servant, Messieurs," touching his cap. "Take the 
+ropes off their ankles, men."
+
+When Maurice was lifted from his horse and placed on the ground, 
+his legs suddenly bent under him, and he went sprawling to the 
+grass. A trooper sprang to his assistance.
+
+"My legs have gone to sleep!"
+
+The Englishman was affected likewise, and it was some moments 
+before either could walk. They were conducted to a chamber high 
+up in the left wing, which overlooked the forest and the 
+mountains. It was a large airy room, but the windows were barred 
+and there were double locks on the doors. The Colonel followed 
+them into the room and pointed to the table.
+
+"Breakfast, Messieurs, and a good sleep for you till this noon. 
+As for the rest, let that take care of itself." And he left them.
+
+Maurice, after having tried all the bars and locks in answer to 
+his conscience, gave his attention to the breakfast. On lifting 
+the covers he found fish, eggs, toast and coffee.
+
+"Here's luck!" he cried. "We were expected."
+
+"Curse it, Maurice!" Fitzgerald began pacing the room.
+
+"No, no," said Maurice; "let us eat it; that's what it's here 
+for," and he fell to with that vigor known only to healthy blood.
+
+"But what's to be done?"
+
+"Follow Solomon's advice, and wait."
+
+"You're taking it cursed cool."
+
+"Force of habit," breaking the toast. "What's the use of wasting 
+powder? Because I have shown only the exterior, our friend the 
+Colonel has already formed an opinion of me. I am brave if need 
+be, but young and careless. In a day or so--for I suppose we are 
+not to be liberated at once--he'll forget to use proper caution 
+in respect to me. And then, 'who can say?' as the Portuguese 
+says when he hasn't anything else to say. They'll keep a strict 
+watch over you, my friend, because you've played the lion too 
+much. Just before I left the States, as you call them, a new 
+slang phrase was going the rounds;--'it is better to play the 
+fox some of the time than to roar all of the time.' Ergo, be 
+foxy. Take it cool. So long as you haven't got that mint packed 
+about your person, the game breaks even."
+
+"But the king!"
+
+"Is as secure on his throne as he ever was. If you do not 
+present those consols, either for renewal or collection, on the 
+twentieth, he loses nothing. As you said, let us hope that the 
+chambermaid is a shifty, careless lass, who will not touch your 
+room till you return." Maurice broke an egg and dropped a lump 
+of sugar into his cup.
+
+"Is this the way you fight Indians?"
+
+"Indians? What the deuce has fighting Indians to do with this? 
+As to Indians, shoot them in the back if you can. Here, 
+everything depends not on fighting but the right use of words. A 
+man may be a diplomat and not render his country any large 
+benefit; still, it's a fine individual training. Thrones stand 
+on precipices and are pushed back to safety by the trick of a 
+few words. Have an egg; they're fresh."
+
+Fitzgerald sat down and gulped his coffee. "They broke my 
+monocle in the struggle."
+
+Maurice choked in his cup.
+
+"I've worn it twelve years, too," went on Fitzgerald.
+
+"Everything is for the best," said Maurice. "You will be able to 
+see out of both eyes."
+
+"Confound you!" cried Fitzgerald, smiling in spite of himself; 
+"nothing will disturb you."
+
+"You mean, nothing shall. Now, there's the bed and there's the 
+lounge. Since you are the principal, that is to say, the 
+constituent part of this affair, and also the principal actor in 
+this extravaganza, suppose you take the bed and leave me the 
+lounge? And the deuce take the duchess, who is probably a woman 
+with a high forehead and a pair of narrow eyes!" He threw down 
+his napkin and made for the lounge, without giving any 
+particular attention to the smile and frown which were 
+struggling in the Englishman's eyes. In less than a minute 
+Maurice was dozing.
+
+Fitzgerald thought that the best thing he could do was to follow 
+the philosophical example of his friend. "These Americans," he 
+mused, as he arranged the pillow under his ear, "are `fifteen 
+puzzles'; you can move them, or you can't."
+
+As for Maurice, he was already dreaming; he was too tired to 
+sleep. Presently he thought he was on a horse again, and was 
+galloping, galloping. He was heading his old company to the very 
+fringe of the alkali. The Apaches had robbed the pay train and 
+killed six men, and the very deuce was to pay all around. . . . 
+Again he was swimming, and a beautiful girl reached out a hand 
+and saved him. Ah! how beautiful she was, how soft and rich the 
+deep brown of her eyes! . . . The scene shifted. The president 
+of the South American republic had accepted his sword (unbeknown 
+to the United States authorities), and he was aiding to quell 
+the insurrection. And just then some one whispered to him that 
+gold would rise fifty points. And as he put out his hands to 
+gather in the glittering coins which were raining down, the face 
+of Colonel Beauvais loomed up, scowling and furious. . . . And 
+yet again came the beautiful girl. He was holding her hand and 
+the archbishop had his spread out in benediction over their 
+heads. . . . A hand, which was not of dreamland, shook him by 
+the arm. He opened his eyes. Fitzgerald was standing over him. 
+The light of the sun spangled the walls opposite the windows. 
+The clock marked the eleventh hour of day.
+
+"Hang you!" he said, with blinking eyes; "why didn't you let me 
+be? I was just marrying the princess, and you've spoiled it all. 
+I--" He jumped to his feet and rubbed his eyes, and, forgetful 
+of all save his astonishment, pursed his lips into a low whistle.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+NOTHING MORE SERIOUS THAN A HOUSE PARTY
+
+Standing just within the door, smiling and rubbing the gray 
+bristles on his lip, was the Colonel. In the center of the room 
+stood a woman dressed in gray. Maurice recognized the dress; it 
+belonged to Mademoiselle of the Veil, who was now sans veil, 
+sans hat. A marvelous face was revealed to Maurice, a face of 
+that peculiar beauty which poets and artists are often minded to 
+deny, but for the love of which men die, become great or 
+terrible, overturn empires and change the map of the world.
+
+Her luxuriant hair, which lay in careless masses about the 
+shapely head and intelligent brow, was a mixture of red and 
+brown and gold, a variety which never ceases to charm; skin the 
+pallor of ancient marble, with the shadow of rose lying below 
+the eyes, the large, gray chatoyant eyes, which answered every 
+impulse of the brain which ruled them. The irregularity of her 
+features was never noticeable after a glance into those eyes. At 
+this moment both eyes and lips expressed a shade of amusement.
+
+Maurice, who was astonished never more than a minute at a time, 
+immediately recovered. His toilet was somewhat disarranged, and 
+the back of his head a crow's nest, but, nevertheless, he placed 
+a hand over his heart and offered a low obeisance.
+
+"Good morning, gentlemen," she said, in a voice which Maurice 
+would have known anywhere. "I hope the journey has caused you no 
+particular annoyance."
+
+"The annoyance was not so particular, Madame," said Fitzgerald 
+stiffly, "as it was general."
+
+"And four of my troopers will take oath to that!" interjected 
+the Colonel.
+
+"Will Madame permit me to ask when will the opera begin?" asked 
+Maurice.
+
+"I am glad," said she, "that you have lost none of your 
+freshness."
+
+Maurice was struck for a moment, but soon saw that the remark 
+was innocent of any inelegance of speech. Fitzgerald was gnawing 
+his mustache and looking out of the corner of his eyes--into 
+hers.
+
+"My task, I confess, is a most disagreeable one," she resumed, 
+lightly beating her gauntlets together; "but when one serves 
+high personages one is supposed not to have any sentiments." To 
+Fitzgerald she said: "You are the son of the late Lord 
+Fitzgerald."
+
+"For your sake, I regret to say that I am."
+
+"For my sake? Worry yourself none on that point. As the agent of 
+her Highness I am inconsiderable."
+
+"Madame," said Maurice, "will you do us the honor to inform us 
+to whom we are indebted for this partiality to our distinguished 
+persons?"
+
+"I am Sylvia Amerbach," quietly.
+
+"Amerbach?" said Maurice, who was familiar with the great names 
+of the continent. "Pardon me, but that was once a famous name in 
+Prussia."
+
+"I am distantly related to that house of princes," looking at 
+her gauntlets.
+
+"Well, Madame, since your business doubtless concerns me, pray, 
+begin;" and Fitzgerald leaned against the mantelpiece and 
+fumbled with the rim of his monocle.
+
+Maurice walked to one of the windows and perched himself on the 
+broad sill. He began to whistle softly:
+
+Voici le sabre de mon pere! Tu vas le mettre a ton cote. . . .
+
+Beyond the window, at the edge of the forest, he saw a sentinel 
+pacing backward and forward. Indeed, no matter which way he 
+looked, the autumnal scenery had this accessory. Again, he 
+inspected the bars. These were comparatively new. It was about 
+thirty feet to the court below. On the whole, the outlook was 
+discouraging.
+
+"Count," said the distant relative of the house of Amerbach, 
+"how shall I begin?"
+
+"I am not a diplomat, Madame," answered the Colonel. "If, 
+however, you wish the advice of a soldier, I should begin by 
+asking if my lord the Englishman has those consols about his 
+person."
+
+"Fie, count!" she cried, laughing; "one would say that was a 
+prelude to robbery."
+
+"So they would. As for myself, I prefer violence to words. If we 
+take these pretty papers by violence, we shall still have left 
+our friend the Englishman his self-respect. And as for words, 
+while my acquaintance with our friend is slight, I should say 
+that they would only be wasted here."
+
+The whistle from the window still rose and fell.
+
+"Monsieur, I have it in my power to make you rich."
+
+"I am rich," replied Fitzgerald.
+
+"In honors?"
+
+"Madame, the title I have is already a burden to me." Fitzgerald 
+laughed, which announced that the cause of the duchess was not 
+getting on very well. Once or twice he raised the tortoiseshell 
+rim to his eye, but dropped it; force of habit was difficult to 
+overcome.
+
+"Your father nourished a particular rancor against the late duke."
+
+"And justly, you will admit."
+
+"Her Highness has offered you five millions for slips of paper 
+worth no more than the ink which decorates them."
+
+"And I have refused. Why? Simply because the matter does not 
+rest with me. You have proceeded with a high hand, Madame, or 
+rather your duchess has. Nothing will come of it. Had there been 
+any possibility of my considering your proposals, this kidnaping 
+would have destroyed it."
+
+She smiled. Maurice saw the smile and stopped whistling long 
+enough to scratch his chin, which was somewhat in need of a 
+razor. He had seen many women smile that way. He had learned to 
+read it. It was an inarticulate "perhaps."
+
+"The rightful successor to the throne--"
+
+"Is Madame the duchess," Fitzgerald completed. "I haven't the 
+slightest doubt of that. One way or the other, it does not 
+concern me. I came here simply to fulfill the wishes of my 
+father; and my word, Madame, fulfill them I shall. You are 
+holding me a prisoner, but uselessly. On the twentieth the 
+certificates fall due against the government. If they are not 
+presented either for renewal or collection, the bankruptcy 
+scheme of your duchess will fall through just the same. I will 
+tell you the truth, Madame. My father never expected to collect 
+the moneys so long as Leopold sat on the throne."
+
+The whistle grew shrill.
+
+"This officer here," continued Fitzgerald, while the Colonel 
+made a comical grimace, "suggests violence. I shall save him the 
+trouble. I have seen much of the world, Madame--the hard side of 
+it --and, knowing it as I do, it is scarcely probable that I 
+should carry about my person the equivalent of four millions of 
+crowns."
+
+"Well, Madame," said the Colonel, pushing his belt closer about 
+his hips, as a soldier always does when he is on the point of 
+departure, "what he says is true, every word of it. I see 
+nothing more to do at present."
+
+Mademoiselle of the Veil was paying not so much attention to the 
+Colonel's words as she was to Maurice's whistle.
+
+"Monsieur," she said, coldly, "have you no other tune in your 
+repertory?"
+
+"Pardon me!" exclaimed Maurice. "I did not intend to annoy you." 
+He stepped down out of the window.
+
+"You do not annoy me; only the tune grows rather monotonous."
+
+"I will whistle anything you may suggest," he volunteered.
+
+She did not respond to this flippancy, though the pupils of her 
+gray eyes grew large with anger. She walked the length of the 
+room and back.
+
+"Count, what do you think would be most satisfactory to her 
+Highness, under the circumstances?"
+
+"I have yet to hear of her Highness' disapproval of anything you 
+undertake."
+
+"Messieurs, your parole d'honneur, and the freedom of the 
+chateau is yours--within the sentry lines. I wish to make your 
+recollections of the Red Chateau rather pleasant than otherwise. 
+I shall be most happy if you will honor my table with your 
+presence."
+
+The Colonel coughed, Maurice smoothed the back of his head, and 
+Fitzgerald caught up his monocle.
+
+"My word, Madame," said Maurice, "is not worth much, being that 
+of a diplomat, but such as it is it is yours. However, my 
+clothes are scarcely presentable," which was true enough. 
+Several buttons were missing, and the collar hung by a thread.
+
+"That can be easily remedied," said she. "There are several new 
+hussar uniforms in the armory."
+
+"O, Madame, and you will permit me to wear one of those gay 
+uniforms of light blue and silver lace?"
+
+The Colonel looked thoughtfully at Maurice. He was too much a 
+banterer himself to miss the undercurrent of raillery. He eyed 
+Madame discreetly; he saw that she had accepted merely the 
+surface tones.
+
+"And you will wear one, too, Jack?" said Maurice.
+
+"No, thank you. I pass my word, Madame; I do not like 
+confinement."
+
+"Well, then, the count will shortly return and establish you in 
+better quarters. Let us suppose you are my guests for a--a 
+fortnight. Since both of us are right, since neither your cause 
+nor mine is wrong, an armistice! Ah! I forgot. The east corridor 
+on the third floor is forbidden you. Should you mistake and go 
+that way, a guard will direct you properly. Messieurs, till 
+dinner!" and with a smile which illumined her face as a sudden 
+burst of sunshine flashes across a hillside, she passed out of 
+the room, followed by her henchman, who had not yet put aside 
+the thoughtful repose of his countenance.
+
+"A house party," said Maurice, when he could no longer hear 
+their footsteps. "And what the deuce have they got so valuable 
+in the east corridor on the third floor?"
+
+"It's small matter to me," said Fitzgerald tranquilly. "The main 
+fact is that she has given up her game."
+
+Said Maurice, his face expressing both pity and astonishment: 
+"My dear, dear John! Didn't you see that woman's eyes, her hair, 
+her chin, her nose?"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"True; you haven't had any experience with petticoats. This 
+woman will rend heaven and earth rather than relinquish her 
+projects, or rather those of her mistress. I should like to see 
+this duchess, who shows a fine discernment in the selection of 
+her assistants. Beware of the woman who is frankly your enemy. 
+If she is frank, it is because she is confident of the end; if 
+not, she is frank in order to disarm us of the suspicion of 
+cunning. I would give much to know the true meaning of this 
+house party."
+
+"Hang me if I can see what difference it makes. She can not do 
+anything either by frankness or by cunning."
+
+"She gathered us in neatly, this red-haired Amazon."
+
+"Red-haired!" in a kind of protest.
+
+"Why, yes; that's the color, isn't it?" innocently.
+
+"I thought it a red-brown. It's too bad that such a woman should 
+be mixed up in an affair like this."
+
+"Woman will sacrifice to ambition what she never will sacrifice 
+to love. Hush; I hear the Colonel returning."
+
+They were conducted to the opposite wing of the chateau, to a 
+room on the second floor. Its windows afforded an excellent view 
+of the land which lay south. Hills rolled away like waves of 
+gold, dotted here and there with vineyards. Through the avenue 
+of trees they could see the highway, and beyond, the river, 
+which had its source in the mountains ten miles eastward.
+
+The room itself was in red, evidently a state chamber, for it 
+contained two canopied beds. Several fine paintings hung from 
+the walls, and between the two windows rose one of those pier 
+glasses which owe their existence to the first empire of France. 
+On one of the beds Maurice saw the hussar uniform. On the 
+dresser were razors and mugs and a pitcher of hot water.
+
+"Ah," he said, with satisfaction.
+
+"The boots may not fit you," said the Colonel, "but if they do 
+not we will manage some way."
+
+"I shall not mind the fortnight," said Maurice. "By the way, 
+Colonel, I notice that French seems to prevail instead of German.
+Why is that?"
+
+"It is the common language of politeness, and servants do not 
+understand it. As for myself, I naturally prefer the German 
+tongue; it is blunt and honest and lacks the finesse of the 
+French, which is full of evasive words and meanings. However, 
+French predominates at court. Besides, heaven help the foreigner 
+who tries to learn all the German tongues to be found in the 
+empires of the Hohenzollern and Hapsburg. Luncheon will be 
+served to you in the dining hall; the first door to the right at 
+the foot of the grand staircase. I shall send you a trooper to 
+act as valet."
+
+"Spare me, Colonel," said Maurice, who did not want any one 
+between him and the Englishman when they were alone.
+
+"I have never had a valet," said Fitzgerald; "he would embarrass me."
+
+"As you please," said the Colonel, a shade of disappointment in 
+his tones. "After all, you are soldiers, where every man is for 
+himself. Make yourselves at home;" and he withdrew.
+
+Maurice at once applied lather and razor, and put on the 
+handsome uniform, which fitted him snugly. The coat was tailless,
+with rows of silver buttons running from collar to waist. The 
+breast and shoulders and sleeves were covered with silver lace, 
+and Maurice concluded that it must be nothing less than a 
+captain's uniform. The trousers were tight fitting, with broad 
+stripes of silver; and the half boots were of patent leather. He 
+walked backward and forward before the pier-glass.
+
+"I say, Fitz, what do you think of it?"
+
+"You're a handsome rascal, Maurice," answered the Englishman, 
+who had watched his young friend, amusement in his sober eyes. 
+"Happily, there are no young women present."
+
+"Go to! I'll lay odds that our hostess is under twenty-five."
+
+"I meant young women of sixteen or seventeen. Women such as 
+Madame have long since passed the uniform fever."
+
+"Not when it has lace, my friend, court lace. Well, forward to 
+the dining hall."
+
+Both were rather disappointed to find that Madame would be 
+absent until dinner. Fitzgerald could not tell exactly why he 
+was disappointed, and he was angry with himself for the vague 
+regret. Maurice, however, found consolation in the demure French 
+maid who served them. Every time he smiled she made a courtesy, 
+and every time she left the room Maurice nudged Fitzgerald.
+
+"Smile, confound you, smile!" he whispered. "There's never a 
+maid but has her store of gossip, and gossip is information."
+
+"Pshaw!" said Fitzgerald, helping himself to cold ham and 
+chicken.
+
+"Wine, Messieurs?" asked the maid.
+
+"Ah, then Madame offers the cellars?" said Maurice.
+
+"Yes, Messieurs. There is chambertin, champagne, chablis, 
+tokayer and sherry."
+
+"Bring us some chambertin, then."
+
+"Oui, Messieurs."
+
+"Hurry along, my Hebe," said Maurice.
+
+The maid was not on familiar terms with the classics, but she 
+told the butler in the pantry that the smooth-faced one made a 
+charming Captain.
+
+"Keep your eyes open," grumbled the butler; "he'll be kissing 
+you next."
+
+"He might do worse," was the retort. Even maids have their 
+mirrors, and hers told a pretty story. When she returned with 
+the wine she asked: "And shall I pour it, Messieurs?"
+
+"No one else shall," declared Maurice. "When is the duchess to 
+arrive?"
+
+"I do not know, Monsieur," stepping in between the chairs and 
+filling the glasses with the ruby liquid.
+
+"Who is Madame Sylvia Amerbach?"
+
+"Madame Sylvia Amerbach," placing the bottle on the table and 
+going to the sideboard. She returned with a box of "Khedives."
+
+Fitzgerald laughed at Maurice's disconcertion.
+
+"Where has Madame gone?"
+
+"To the summer home of Countess Herzberg, who is to return with 
+Madame."
+
+"Oho!" cried Maurice, in English. "A countess! What do you say 
+to that, my Englishman?"
+
+"She is probably old and plain. Madame desires a chaperon."
+
+"You forget that Madame desires nothing but those certificates. 
+And the chaperon does not live who could keep an eye on Madame 
+Sylvia Amerbach."
+
+The mention of the certificates brought back all the 
+Englishman's discomfort, and he emptied his glass of wine not as 
+a lover of good wine should. Soon they rose from the table. The 
+maid ran to the door and held it open. Fitzgerald hurried 
+through, but Maurice lingered a moment. He put his hand under 
+the porcelain chin and looked into the china-blue eyes. 
+Fitzgerald turned.
+
+"What was that noise?" he asked, as Maurice shouldered him along 
+the hall.
+
+"What noise?"
+
+Madame came back to the chateau at five, and dinner was 
+announced at eight. The Countess Herzberg was young and pretty, 
+the possessor of a beautiful mouth and a charming smile. The 
+Colonel did the honors at the table. Maurice almost fancied 
+himself in Vienna, the setting of the dining room was so perfect.
+The entire room was paneled in walnut. On the mantel over the 
+great fireplace stood silver candlesticks with wax tapers. The 
+candlestick in the center of the table was composed of twelve 
+branches. The cuisine was delectable, the wines delicious. 
+Madame and the countess were in evening dress. The Colonel was 
+brimming with anecdote, the countess was witty, Madame was a 
+sister to Aspasia.
+
+Maurice, while he enjoyed this strange feast, was puzzled. It 
+was very irregular, and the Colonel's gray hairs did not serve 
+to alter this fact. What was the meaning of it? What lay 
+underneath?
+
+Sometimes he caught Fitzgerald in the act of staring at Madame 
+when her attention was otherwise engaged; at other times he saw 
+that Madame was returning this cursory investigation. There was, 
+however, altogether a different meaning in these surreptitious 
+glances. In the one there were interest, doubt, admiration; in 
+the other, cold calculation. At no time did the conversation 
+touch politics, and the crown was a thousand miles away--if 
+surface indications went for aught.
+
+Finally the Colonel rose. "A toast--to Madame the duchess, since 
+this is her very best wine!"
+
+Maurice emptied his glass fast enough; but Fitzgerald lowered 
+his eyes and made no movement to raise his glass. The pupils in 
+Madame's eyes grew small.
+
+"That is scarcely polite, Monsieur," she said.
+
+"Madame," he replied gently, "my parole did not include toasts 
+to her Highness. My friend loves wine for its own sake, and 
+seldom bothers his head about the toast as long as the wine is 
+good. Permit me to withdraw the duchess and substitute yourself."
+
+"Do so, if it will please you. In truth, it was bad taste in you,
+count, to suggest it."
+
+"It's all the same to me;" and the Colonel refilled his glass 
+and nodded.
+
+The countess smiled behind her fan, while Maurice felt the edge 
+of the mild reproach which had been administered to him.
+
+"I plead guilty to the impeachment. It was very wrong. Far from 
+it that I should drink to the health of the Philistines. Madame 
+the countess was beating me down with her eyes, and I did not 
+think."
+
+"I was not even looking at you!" declared the countess, blushing.
+
+The incident was soon forgotten; and at length Madame and the 
+countess rose.
+
+Said the first: "We will leave you gentlemen to your cigars; and 
+when they have ceased to interest you, you will find us in the 
+music room."
+
+"And you will sing?" said Maurice to the countess.
+
+"If you wish." She was almost beautiful when she smiled, and she 
+smiled on Maurice.
+
+"I confess," said he, "that being a prisoner, under certain 
+circumstances, is a fine life."
+
+"What wicked eyes he has," said the countess, as she and Madame 
+entered the music room.
+
+"Do not look into them too often, my dear," was the rejoinder. 
+"I have asked not other sacrifice than that you should occupy 
+his attention and make him fall in love with you."
+
+"Ah, Madame, that will be easy enough. But what is to prevent me 
+from falling in love with him? He is very handsome."
+
+"You are laughing!"
+
+"Yes, I am laughing. It will be such an amusing adventure, a 
+souvenir for my old age--and may my old age forget me."
+
+The men lit their cigars and smoked in silence.
+
+"Colonel," said Maurice at last, "will you kindly tell me what 
+all this means?"
+
+"Never ask your host how old his wine is. If he is proud of it, 
+he will tell you." He blew the smoke under the candle shades and 
+watched it as it darted upward. "Don't you find it comfortable? 
+I should."
+
+"Conscience will not lie down at one's bidding."
+
+"I understood that you were a diplomat?" The Colonel turned to 
+Fitzgerald. "I hope that, when you are liberated, you will 
+forget the manner in which you were brought here."
+
+"I shall forget nothing," curtly.
+
+"The devil! I can not fight you; I am too old."
+
+Fitzgerald said nothing, and continued to play with his emptied 
+wine-glass.
+
+"The Princess Alexia," went on the Colonel, "has a bulldog. I 
+have always wondered till now what the nationality of the dog 
+was. The bulldog neither forsakes nor forgives; he is an 
+Englishman."
+
+This declaration was succeeded by another interval of silence. 
+The Englishman was thinking of his father; the thoughts of 
+Maurice were anywhere but at the chateau; the Colonel was 
+contemplating them both, shrewdly.
+
+"Well, to the ladies, gentlemen; it is half after nine."
+
+The countess was seated at the piano, improvising. Madame stood 
+before the fireplace, arranging the pieces on a chess board. In 
+the center of the room was a table littered with books, 
+magazines and illustrated weeklies.
+
+"Do you play chess, Monsieur?" said Madame to Fitzgerald.
+
+"I do not."
+
+"Well, Colonel, we will play a game and show him how it is done."
+
+Fitzgerald drew up a chair and sat down at Madame's elbow. He 
+followed every move she made because he had never seen till now 
+so round and shapely an arm, hands so small and white, tipped 
+with pink filbert nails. He did not learn the game so quickly as 
+might be. He, like Maurice, was pondering over the unusual 
+position in which he found himself; but analysis of any sort was 
+not his forte; so he soon forgot all save the delicate curve of 
+Madame's chin and throat, the soft ripple of her laughter, the 
+abysmal gray of her eyes.
+
+"Monsieur le Capitaine," said the countess, "what shall I sing 
+to you?"
+
+"To me?" said Maurice. "Something from Abt."
+
+Her fingers ran lightly over the keys, and presently her voice 
+rose in song, a song low, sweet, and sad. Maurice peered out of 
+the window into the shades of night. Visions passed and repassed 
+the curtain of darkness. Once or twice the countess turned her 
+head and looked at him. It was not only a handsome face she saw, 
+but one that carried the mark of refinement. . . . Maurice was 
+thinking of the lonely princess and her grave dark eyes. He 
+possessed none of that power from which princes derive benefits; 
+what could he do? And why should he interest himself in a woman 
+who, in any event, could never be anything to him, scarcely even 
+a friend? He smiled.
+
+If Fitzgerald was not adept at analysis, he was. Nothing ever 
+entered his mind or heart that he could not separate and define. 
+It was strange; it was almost laughable; to have fenced as long 
+and adroitly as he had fenced, and then to be disarmed by one 
+who did not even understand the foils! Surrender? Why not? . . . 
+By and by his gaze traveled to the chess players. There was 
+another game than chess being played there, though kings and 
+queens and knights and bishops were still the sum of it.
+
+"Are you so very far away, then?" The song had ceased; the 
+countess was looking at him curiously.
+
+"Thank you," he said; "indeed, you had taken me out of myself."
+
+"Do you like chestnuts?" she asked suddenly.
+
+"I am very fond of them."
+
+"Then I shall fetch some." It occurred to her that the room was 
+very warm; she wanted a breath of air--alone.
+
+"Checkmate!" cried the Colonel, joyfully.
+
+"Do you begin to understand?" asked Madame.
+
+"A little," admitted Fitzgerald, who did not wish to learn too 
+quickly. "I like to watch the game."
+
+"So do I," said Maurice, who had approached the table. "I should 
+like to know what the game is, too."
+
+Both Madame and the Colonel appeared to accept the statement and 
+not the innuendo. Madame placed the figures on the board.
+
+Maurice strolled over to the table and aimlessly glanced through 
+the Vienna illustrated weeklies. He saw Franz Josef in 
+characteristic poses, full-page engravings of the military 
+maneuvers and reproductions of the notable paintings. He picked 
+up an issue dated June. A portrait of the new Austrian 
+ambassador to France attracted his attention. He turned the leaf.
+What he saw on the following page caused him to widen his eyes 
+and let slip an ejaculation loud enough to be heard by the chess 
+players. Madame seemed on the point of rising. Maurice did not 
+lower his eyes nor Madame hers.
+
+"Checkmate in three moves, Madame!" exclaimed the Colonel; "it 
+is wonderful."
+
+"What's the matter, Maurice?" asked Fitzgerald.
+
+"Jack, I am a ruined man."
+
+"How? What?" nearly upsetting the board.
+
+"I just this moment remember that I left my gas burning at the 
+hotel, and it is extra."
+
+The Colonel and Fitzgerald lay back in their chairs and roared 
+with laughter.
+
+But Madame did not even smile.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+BEING OF LONG RIDES, MAIDS, KISSES AND MESSAGES
+
+Fitzgerald was first into bed that night.
+
+"I want to finish this cigar, Jack," said Maurice, who wished to 
+be alone with his thoughts. He sat in the chair by the window 
+and lifted his feet to the sill. The night wind was warm and 
+odorous. He had found a clue, but through what labyrinth would 
+it lead him? A strange adventure, indeed; so strange that he was 
+of half a mind that he dreamed. Prisoners. . . . Why? And these 
+two women alone in this old chateau, a house party. There lay 
+below all this some deep design.
+
+Should he warn his friend? Indeed, as yet, of what had he to 
+warn him? To discover Madame to Fitzgerald would be to close the 
+entrance to this labyrinth which he desired to explore. How 
+would Madame act, now that she knew he possessed her secret? 
+Into many channels he passed, but all these were blind, and led 
+him to no end. Madame had a purpose; to discover what this 
+purpose was Fitzgerald must remain in ignorance. What a woman! 
+She resembled one of those fabulous creatures of medieval days. 
+And why was the countess on the scene, and what was her part in 
+this invisible game?
+
+He finished his cigar and lit another; but the second cigar 
+solved no more than the first. Mademoiselle of the Veil! He knew 
+now what she meant; having asked her to lift her veil, she had 
+said, "Something terrible would happen." At last he, too, sought 
+bed, but he did not sleep so soundly as did Fitzgerald.
+
+Ten days of this charming captivity passed; there was a thicker 
+carpet of leaves on the ground, and new distances began to show 
+mistily through the dismantling forest. But there were no 
+changes at the Red Chateau--no outward changes. It might, in 
+truth, have been a house party but for the prowling troopers and 
+the continual grumbling of the Englishman when alone with 
+Maurice.
+
+During the day they hunted or took long rides into the interior 
+of the duchy. Both women possessed a fine skill in the saddle. 
+In the evenings there were tourneys at chess, games and music.
+
+Each night Fitzgerald learned a little more about chess and a 
+little less about woman. The countess, airy and delicate as a 
+verse of Voiture's, bent all her powers (and these were not 
+inconsiderable) toward the subjugation of Maurice. She laughed, 
+she sang, she fascinated. She had the ability to amuse hour 
+after hour. She offered vague promises with her eyes, and 
+refused them with her lips. Maurice, who was never impregnable 
+under the fire of feminine artillery, was at times half in love 
+with her; but his suspicions, always near the surface, saved him.
+
+Sometimes he caught her hand and retained it over long; and once,
+when he kissed it, there was no rebuke. Again, when she sang, 
+he would lean so close that she could feel his breath on her 
+cheek, and her fingers would stumble into discords. Often she 
+would suddenly rise from the piano and walk swiftly from the 
+room, through the halls, into the park, where, though he 
+followed, he never could find her. One day she and Madame 
+returned from a walk in the forest, the one with high color and 
+brilliant eyes, the other impassive as ice. Now, all these 
+things did not escape Maurice, but he could not piece them 
+together with any result.
+
+On the morning of the tenth day the two prisoners came down to 
+breakfast, wondering how much longer this house party was going 
+to last.
+
+"George! I wish I had a pipe," said Maurice.
+
+"So do I," Fitzgerald echoed glumly. "I am tired of cigars and 
+weary of those eternal cigarettes. How the deuce are we going to 
+get out of this?"
+
+"What's your hurry? We're having a good time."
+
+"That's the trouble. Hang the duchess!"
+
+"Hang her and welcome. But why do you complain to me and not to 
+Madame? Are you afraid of her? Does she possess, then, what is 
+called tamer's magnetism? O, my lion, if only you would roar a 
+bit more at her and less at me!"
+
+"I don't know what she possesses; but I do know that I'd give a 
+deal to be out of this."
+
+"Is the chambermaid idea bothering you?"
+
+"No, Maurice, it is not the chambermaid. I feel oppressed by 
+something which I can not define."
+
+"Maybe you are not used to tokay forty years old?"
+
+"Wine has nothing to do with it."
+
+He was so serious that Maurice dropped his jesting tone. "By the 
+way," he said, "do you sleep soundly?"
+
+"No. Every night I am awakened by the noise of a horse entering 
+the court-yard."
+
+"So am I. Moreover, Madame seems to be troubled with the same 
+sleeplessness.
+
+"Madame?"
+
+"Yes. She is so troubled with sleeplessness that nothing will 
+quiet her but the sight of the man who rides the horse: all of 
+which is to say that a courier arrives each night with 
+dispatches from Bleiberg. Now, to tell the truth, the courier 
+does not keep me awake half so much as the thought of who is 
+eating three meals a day at the end of the east corridor on the 
+third floor. But there are Madame and the countess; we have kept 
+them waiting,"
+
+"Good morning," said Madame, smiling as they came up. "And how 
+have you slept?"
+
+"Nothing wakes me but the roll of the drum or thunder," answered 
+Fitzgerald diffidently.
+
+"I dream of horses," said Maurice carelessly.
+
+"Bon jour, M. le Capitaine!" cried the countess. Then she added 
+with a light laugh: "Come, let me try you. Portons armes! 
+Presentons armes! --How beautifully you do it!--Par le flanc 
+gauche! En avant--marche!"
+
+Maurice swung, clicked his heels and, with a covert glance at 
+Madame, led the way into the dining hall, whistling, "Behold the 
+saber of my father!"
+
+"Ah, I do not see the Colonel," said Maurice; for night and day 
+the old soldier had been with them.
+
+"He has gone to Brunnstadt," said Madame, "but will return this 
+evening."
+
+The breakfast was short and merry. Words passed across the table 
+that were as crisp as the toast. Maurice remarked the advent of 
+two liveried servants, stolid Germans by the way, who, as he 
+afterward found, did not understand French.
+
+"So the Colonel has gone to Brunnstadt?" said Maurice; which was 
+a long way of asking why the Colonel had gone to Brunnstadt.
+
+"Yes," said Madame; "he has gone to consult Madame the duchess 
+to see what shall be done to you, Monsieur."
+
+"To be done to me?" ignoring the challenge in her eyes.
+
+"Yes. You must not forget that you promised me your sword, and I 
+have taken the liberty of presenting it to her Highness."
+
+"I remember nothing about promising my sword," said Maurice, 
+gazing ceiling-ward.
+
+"What! There was a mental reservation?"
+
+"No, Madame. I remember my words only too well. I said that I 
+loved adventure, thoughtless youth that I was, and that I was 
+easy to be found. Which is all true, and part proved, since I am 
+here."
+
+"Still, the uniform fits you exceedingly well. The hussars hold 
+a high place at court."
+
+"Madame," replied he pleasantly, "I appreciate the honor, but at 
+present my sword and fealty are sworn to my own country. And 
+besides, I have no desire to take part in the petty squabble 
+between this country and the kingdom."
+
+The forecast of a storm lay in Madame's gray eyes.
+
+"Eh? You wish to placate me, Madame?" thought Maurice.
+
+"He is right, Madame," interposed the countess. "But away with 
+politics! It spoils all it touches."
+
+"And away with the duchess, too," put in Fitzgerald, reaching 
+for a bunch of yellow grapes. "With all due respect to your 
+cause and beliefs, Madame the duchess, your mistress, is a 
+bugbear to me. The very sound of the title arouses in my heart 
+all that is antagonistic."
+
+"You have not seen her Highness, Monsieur," said Madame, quietly.
+"Perhaps she is all that is desirable. She is known to be rich, 
+her will is paramount to all others. When she sets her heart on 
+a thing she leaves no stone unturned until she procures it. And, 
+countess, do they not say of her that she possesses something--
+an attribute--more dangerous than beauty--fascination?"
+
+"Yes, Madame."
+
+"Madame the duchess," said Maurice dryly, "has a stanch advocate 
+in you, Madame."
+
+"It is not unnatural."
+
+"Be that as it may," said Fitzgerald, "she is mine enemy."
+
+"Love your enemies, says the Book," was the interposition of the 
+countess, who stole a sly glance at Maurice which he did not see.
+
+"That would not be difficult--in some cases," replied the 
+Englishman.
+
+"Ah, come," thought Maurice, "my friend is beginning to pick up 
+his lines." Aloud he said: "Madame, will you confer a favor on 
+me by permitting me to inform my superior in Vienna of my 
+whereabouts?"
+
+"No, Monsieur; prisoners are not allowed to communicate with the 
+outside world. Are you not enjoying yourself? Is not everything 
+being done for your material comfort? What complaint have you to 
+offer?"
+
+"A gilded cage is no less a cage."
+
+"It is but temporary. The duchess has commanded that you be held 
+until it is her pleasure to come to the chateau. O, Monsieur, 
+where is your gallantry? Here the countess and I have done so 
+much to amuse you, and you speak of a gilded cage!"
+
+"Pretty bird! pretty bird!" said Maurice, in a piping voice, 
+"will it have some caraway?"
+
+Madame laughed. "Well, I hear the grooms leading the horses 
+under the porte coch,re. Go, then, for the morning ride. I am 
+sorry that I can not accompany you. I have some letters to write."
+
+Fitzgerald curled his mustache. "I'll forswear the ride myself. 
+I was reading a good book last night; I'll finish it, and keep 
+Madame company."
+
+Madame trifled with the toast crumbs. Fitzgerald's profound 
+dissimulation caused a smile to cross Maurice's lips.
+
+"Come, countess," said Maurice, gaily; "we'll take the ride 
+together, since Madame has to write and my lord to read."
+
+"Five minutes until I dress," replied the countess, and she sped 
+away.
+
+"What a beautiful girl!" said Madame, fondly. "Poor dear! Her 
+life has not been a bed of roses."
+
+"No?" said Maurice, while Fitzgerald raised his eyebrows 
+inquiringly.
+
+"No. She was formerly a maid of honor to her Highness. She made 
+an unhappy marriage."
+
+"And where is the count?" asked Fitzgerald in surprise. He shot 
+a glance of dismay at Maurice, who, translating it, smiled.
+
+"He is dead."
+
+Fitzgerald looked relieved.
+
+"What a fine thing it is," said Maurice, rising, "to be a man 
+and wed where and how you will!" He withdrew to the main hall to 
+don his cap and spurs. As he stooped to strap the latter, he saw 
+a sheet of paper, crinkled by recent dampness, lying on the 
+floor. He picked it up--and read it.
+
+     "The plan you suggest is worthy of you, Madame. The
+     Englishman is fair game, being a common enemy. Let
+     us gain our ends through the heart, since his purse
+     is impregnable to assaults. But the countess? Why not
+     the pantry maid, since the other is an American? They
+     lack discrimination. The king grows weaker every 
+     day. Nothing was found in the Englishman's rooms. I
+     fear that the consols are in the safe at the British
+     legation. As usual, a courier will arrive each night.
+                           B."
+
+
+
+"Why--not--the--pantry maid?" Maurice drawled. "That is flippant."
+He read the message again. "What plan?" Suddenly he struck his 
+thigh. "By George, so that is it, eh, Madame? So that is why we 
+are so comfortably lodged here? I am in the way, and you bait 
+the hook with a countess! Since the purse will not lead the way, 
+the heart, eh? Certainly I shall tell my lord the Englishman all 
+about his hostess when I return from the ride. Decidedly you are 
+clever. O, how careless! Not even in cipher, so that he who 
+reads may run. And who is B.?--Beauvais! Something told me that 
+this man had a hand in the affair. I remember the look he gave 
+me. A traitor, too.
+
+"Hang my memory, which seems always to forget what I wish to 
+remember and remember what I wish to forget! Where have I met 
+this man Beauvais before? Ah, the countess!" He thrust the 
+message into his breast. "Evidently Madame thinks I am worth 
+consideration; uncommonly pretty bait. Shall I let the play run 
+on, or shall I tell her? Ah! you have two minutes to spare," he 
+said, as she approached. "But you do not need them," throwing a 
+deal of admiration into his glance.
+
+"It does not take me long to dress--on occasions."
+
+"A compliment to me?" he said.
+
+"If you will accept it."
+
+It was an exhilarating morning, full of forest perfumes. Through 
+the haze the mountains glittered like huge emeralds and 
+amethysts.
+
+"What a day!" said the countess, as they galloped away.
+
+"Aye, for plots and war and love!"
+
+"For plots and war?" demurely. Her cheeks were rosy and her hair 
+as yellow as the silk of corn.
+
+"Well, then, for love." He shortened his rein. "A propos, have 
+you ever been in love, countess?"
+
+"I? What a question!"
+
+"Have you?"
+
+"N--no! Let us talk of plots and war," gazing across the valley.
+
+"No; let us talk of love. I am in love, and one afflicted that 
+way wishes a confidant. I appoint you mine."
+
+"Some rosy-cheeked peasant girl?" laughing.
+
+"Perhaps. Perhaps it's only a--a pantry maid," with a sly look 
+from the corner of his eyes. Evidently she had not heard. She 
+was still laughing. "I have heard of hermits falling in love 
+with stars, and have laughed. Now I am in the same predicament. 
+I love a star--"
+
+"Operatic? To be sure! Mademoiselle Lenormand of the Royal 
+Vienna is in Bleiberg. How she keeps her age!"
+
+It was Maurice's turn to laugh.
+
+"And that is why you came to Bleiberg! Ah, these opera singers, 
+had I my way, they should all be aged and homely."
+
+"Countess, you are pulling the bit too hard," said he. "I 
+noticed yesterday that your horse has a very tender mouth."
+
+"Thank you." She slacked the rein. "He was going too close to 
+the ditch. You were saying--"
+
+"No, it was you who were saying that all actresses should be 
+aged and homely. But it is not Mademoiselle Lenormand, it is not 
+the peasant, nor the pantry maid."
+
+This time she looked up quickly.
+
+"The woman I love is too far away, so I am going to give up 
+thinking of her. Countess, I made a peculiar discovery this 
+morning."
+
+"A discovery, Monsieur? What is it?"
+
+"Do you see that fork in the road, a mile away? When we reach it 
+and turn I'll tell you what it is. If I told you now it might 
+spoil the ride. What a day, truly! How clear everything is! And 
+the air is like wine." He drew in deep breaths.
+
+"Let us hurry and reach the fork in the road; my curiosity is 
+stifling me."
+
+Maurice did not laugh as she expected he would. As she observed 
+the thoughtful frown between his brows, a shiver of dread ran 
+through her. It did not take long to cover the intervening mile. 
+They turned, and the horses fell into a quick step.
+
+"Now, Monsieur; please!"
+
+After all . . . But he quelled the gentle tremor in his heart. A 
+month ago, had he known her, he might now have told her 
+altogether a different story. He could see that she had not an 
+inkling of what was to come (for he had determined to tell her); 
+and he vaguely wondered if he should bring humiliation to the 
+dainty creature. It would be like nicking a porcelain cup. Her 
+brows were arched inquisitively and her lips puckered. . . .He 
+had had a narrow escape.
+
+He drew the message from his breast, leaned across and handed it 
+to her.
+
+"Why, what is this, Monsieur?"
+
+"Read it and see" And he busied himself with the tangled mane of 
+his horse. When they had ridden several yards, he heard her 
+voice.
+
+"Here, Monsieur" The hand was extended, but the face was averted.
+
+"Countess, you are too charming a woman to lend yourself to such 
+schemes."
+
+There was no reply.
+
+"Did you not volunteer to make me fall in love with you to keep 
+me from interfering with Madame's plans?" It was brutal, but he 
+was compelled to say it.
+
+Silence.
+
+"Did you not?" he persisted. "When one writes such messages as 
+these, one should use an intricate cipher. Had I been other than 
+a prisoner, what I have done would not be the act of a gentleman.
+But I am a prisoner; I must defend myself. To rob a man through 
+his love! And such a man! He is a very infant in the hands of a 
+woman. He has been a soldier all his life. All women to him are 
+little less than angels; he knows nothing of their treachery, 
+their deceit, their false smiles. It will be an easy victory, or 
+rather it would have been, for I shall do my best to prevent it. 
+Madame is not unknown to me; I have been waiting to see what 
+meant this peculiar house party.
+
+"Perhaps I am now too late. Madame distrusts me. I dare say she 
+has her reasons. She went to you. You were to occupy me. I was 
+young, I liked the society of women, I was gay and careless. She 
+has decked me out as one would deck a monkey (and doubtless she 
+calls me one behind my back), and has offered me a sword to play 
+with.
+
+"In America, when a man puts a sword in his hand, it is to kill 
+somebody. Here--aye, all over the continent, for that matter--
+swords are baubles for young nobles, used to slash each other in 
+love affairs. I respect and admire you; had I not done so, I 
+should not have spoken. Countess, be frank with me, as frank as 
+I have been with you; have I not guessed rightly?"
+
+"Yes, Monsieur," her head bowed and her cheeks white. "Yes, yes! 
+it was a miserable game. But I love Madame; I would sacrifice my 
+pride and my heart for her, if need be."
+
+"I can believe that."
+
+"And believe me when I say that the moment I saw you, I knew 
+that my conduct was going to be detestable. But I had given my 
+promise. A woman has but little to offer to her country; I have 
+offered my pride, and I am a proud woman, Monsieur. I am ashamed.
+I am glad that you spoke, for it was becoming unbearable to 
+throw myself at a man whose heart I knew intuitively to be 
+elsewhere." She raised her eyes, which were filled with a 
+strange luster. "Will you forgive me, Monsieur?"
+
+"With all my heart. For now I know that we shall be friends. You 
+will be relieved of an odious part; for you are too handsome not 
+to have in keeping some other heart besides your own."
+
+He then began gaily to describe some of his humorous adventures, 
+and continued in this vein till they arrived once more at the 
+chateau. Sometimes the countess laughed, but he could see that 
+her sprightliness was gone. When they came under the porte 
+cochere he sprang from his horse and assisted her to dismount; 
+and he did not relinquish her hand till he had given it a 
+friendly pressure. She stood motionless on the steps, centered a 
+look on him which he failed to interpret, then ran swiftly into 
+the hall, thence to her room, the door of which she bolted.
+
+"It would not be difficult," he mused, communing with the 
+thought which had come to him. "It would be something real, and 
+not a chimera."
+
+He turned over the horses to the grooms, and went in search of 
+Fitzgerald to inform him of his discovery; but the Englishman 
+was nowhere to be found. Neither was Madame. Being thirsty, he 
+proceeded to the dining hall. Fadette, the maid, was laying the 
+silver.
+
+"Ah, the `pantry maid,'" he thought. "Good day, Fadette."
+
+"Does Monsieur wish for something?"
+
+"A glass of water. Thanks!"
+
+She retreated and kept her eyes lowered.
+
+"Fadette, you are charming. Has any one ever told you that?"
+
+"O, Monsieur!" blushing.
+
+"Have they?" lessening the distance between them.
+
+"Sometimes," faintly. She could not withstand his glance, so she 
+retired a few more steps, only to find herself up with the wall.
+
+With a laugh he sprang forward and caught her face between his 
+hands and imprinted a kiss on her left cheek. Suddenly she 
+wrenched herself loose, uttered a frightened cry and fled down 
+the pantryway.
+
+"What's the matter with the girl?" he muttered aloud. "I wanted 
+to ask her some questions."
+
+"Ask them of me, Monsieur," said a voice from the doorway.
+
+Maurice wheeled. It was Madame, but her face expressed nothing. 
+He saw that he had been caught. The humor of the situation got 
+the better of him, and he laughed. Madame ignored this unseemly 
+hilarity.
+
+"Monsieur, is this the way you return my kindness?"
+
+"Permit me to apologize. As to your kindness, I have just 
+discovered that it is of a most dangerous quality."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I mean that I could not kiss Madame the countess with the same 
+sense of security as I could the-- pantry maid," bowing.
+
+Just now Madame's face expressed a good deal. "Of what are you 
+talking?" advancing a step.
+
+"I had in mind what our friend, Colonel Beauvais, remarked in 
+his recent dispatch: I know no discrimination. The fact is, I do.
+I found the dispatch on the floor this morning. Allow me to 
+return it to you. I have kept silent, Madame, because I did not 
+know how to act."
+
+"You have dared--?" her lips pressed and her eyes thunderous.
+
+"To read it? Aye. I am a prisoner; it was in self-defense. 
+Madame, you do me great honor. A countess! What consideration to 
+the indiscriminate! Au revoir, then, till luncheon;" and he left 
+the room, whistling--
+
+Voici le sabre de mon pere!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+THE DENOUEMENT
+
+At no time during the afternoon did Maurice find the opportunity 
+to speak privately to Fitzgerald. Madame hovered about, chatting,
+smiling and humming snatches of song. She seemed to have formed 
+a sudden attachment for Maurice; that is to say, she could not 
+bear to lose sight of him, not for the briefest moment.
+
+He swallowed his chagrin, for he could but confess that it was 
+sugar-coated. Madame had at last considered his case, and had 
+labeled him dangerous. Somehow a man always likes to be properly 
+valued. It re-establishes his good opinion of himself.
+
+Well, well; however affectionate Madame might be, she could 
+scarcely carry it beyond the threshold of his chamber, and he 
+was determined to retire at an early hour. But he had many 
+things to learn.
+
+Fitzgerald was abandoned to the countess, who had still much 
+color to regain. From time to time the Englishman looked over 
+his shoulder to see what was going on between Madame and his 
+friend, and so missed half of what the countess said.
+
+"Come," thought Maurice, "it is time I made a play."
+
+The blackberries were ripe along the stone walls which 
+surrounded the chateau. Maurice wandered here and there, 
+plucking what fruit he could find. Now and then he would offer a 
+branch to Madame. At length, as though by previous arrangement 
+with Madame, the countess led Fitzgerald around to the other 
+side of the chateau, so that Madame and Maurice were alone. 
+Immediately the smile, which had rested on her lips, vanished. 
+Her companion was gazing mountainward, and cogitating. How fared 
+those in Bleiberg?
+
+"What a beautiful world it is!" said a low, soft voice close to 
+his ear.
+
+Maurice resumed his berry picking.
+
+"What exquisite tints in the skies!" went on the voice; "what 
+matchless color in the forests!"
+
+Maurice plucked a berry, ate it, and smacked his lips. It was a 
+good berry.
+
+"But what a terrible thing it would be if one should die 
+suddenly, or be thrown into a windowless dungeon, shut out from 
+all these splendid reaches?"
+
+Maurice plucked another berry, but he did not eat it. 
+Instinctively he turned--and met a pair of eyes as hard and cold 
+and gray as new steel.
+
+"That," said he, "sounds like a threat."
+
+"And if it were, Monsieur, and if it were?"
+
+"If it were, I should say that you had discovered that I know 
+too much. I suspected from the first; the picture merely 
+confirmed my suspicions. I see now that it was thoughtless in me 
+not to have told my friend; but it is not too late."
+
+"And why, I ask, have I not suppressed you before this?"
+
+"Till to-day, Madame, you had not given me your particular 
+consideration." Then, as if the conversation was not interesting 
+him, he returned to the berries. "There's a fine one there. It's 
+a little high; but then!" He tiptoed, drew the branch from the 
+wall, and snatched the luscious fruit. "Ah!"
+
+"Monsieur, attend to me; the berries can wait."
+
+"Madame, the life of a good blackberry is short."
+
+"To begin with, you say that I did not show you consideration. 
+Few princes have been shown like consideration."
+
+"I was wrong. It is not every man that has a countess--and a 
+pretty one, too!--thrown at his head."
+
+Madame was temporarily silenced by this retort; it upset her 
+calculations. She scrutinized the clean, smooth face, and she 
+saw lines which had hitherto escaped her notice. She was at last 
+convinced that she had to contend with a man, a man who had 
+dealt with both men and women. How deep was he? Could honors, 
+such as she could give, and money plumb the depths? . . . He was 
+an American. She smiled the smile of duplicity.
+
+"Monsieur," she said, "do you lack wealth?"
+
+"Yes, I lack it; but that is not to say that I desire it."
+
+"Perhaps it is honors you desire?"
+
+"Honors? To what greater honor may I aspire than that which is 
+written in my passports?"
+
+"What is written in your passports?"
+
+"That I am a citizen of the United States of America. It would 
+not be good taste in me to accept honors save those that my 
+country may choose to confer."
+
+Again Madame found her foil turned aside. She began to lose 
+patience. Her boot patted the sod. "Monsieur, since the countess 
+is not high enough, since gold and honors have no charm, listen."
+
+"I am listening, Madame."
+
+"I permit you to witness the comic opera, but I shall allow no 
+prompting from outsiders."
+
+"Madame, do you expect me to sit calmly by and see my friend 
+made a fool?" He spoke warmly and his eyes remained steadfast.
+
+"Certainly that is what you shall do," coldly.
+
+"Madame, you are a beautiful woman; heaven has endowed you with 
+something more than beauty. Is it possible that the gods forgot 
+to mix conscience in the mold?"
+
+"Conscience? Royalty knows none."
+
+"Ah, Madame, wait till you are royal."
+
+"Take care. You have not felt my anger."
+
+"I would rather that than your love."
+
+She marveled at her patience.
+
+"If you have no conscience, Madame, I have. I shall warn him. 
+You shall not dishonor him if I can prevent it. You wish to win 
+his love, and you have gauged the possibilities of it so 
+accurately that you know you will have but to ask, be it his 
+honor or his life. A far finer thing it would be for you to win 
+your crown at the point of the sword. There would be a little 
+glory in it then. But even then, the world would laugh at you. 
+For you would be waging war against a lonely woman, a paralytic 
+king, a prelate who is a man of peace. What resistance could 
+these three offer?
+
+"But to gain your ends by treachery and deceit, to rob a man of 
+his brains and heart, laughing the while in your sleeve; to 
+break his life and make him curse all women, from Eve to you and 
+the mother who bore him! Ah, Madame, let me plead with you. Give 
+him his liberty. Let him go back and complete the task imposed 
+on him. Do not break his life, for life is more than a crown; do 
+not compel him to sully his honor, for honor is more than life.
+
+"Your cause is just, I will admit, but do not tarnish it by such 
+detestable means. 'Tis true that a crown to me signifies nothing,
+but life and honor are common to us both. With all his strength 
+and courage, my friend is helpless. All his life he has been 
+without the society of women. If he should love you--God help 
+him! His love would be without calculation, without reason, 
+blind and furious. Madame, do not destroy him."
+
+Sometimes, in the passing, we are stopped by the sound of a 
+voice. It is not the words it utters, nor the range nor tone. It 
+is something indefinable, and, though we can not analyze it, we 
+are willing to follow wherever it leads. Such a voice Maurice 
+possessed, though he was totally ignorant of its power. But 
+Madame, as she listened, felt its magic influence, and for a 
+moment the spell rendered her mute.
+
+"Monsieur, you have missed your vocation; you plead well, indeed.
+Unfortunately, I can not hear; my ears are of wax. No, no! I 
+have nourished these projects too long; they are a part of me. 
+Laughed at, you say? Have I not been laughed at from one end of 
+the continent to the other?" passionately. "It is my turn now, 
+and woe to those who have dared to laugh. I shall sweep all 
+obstacles away; nothing shall stop me. Mine the crown is, and 
+mine it shall be. I am a woman, and I wished to avoid bloodshed. 
+But not even that shall stay me; not even love!" Her bosom 
+heaved, her hands were clenched, and her gray eyes flashed like 
+troubled waters in the sunlight.
+
+"Madame, if you love him--"
+
+"Well?" proudly.
+
+"No, I am wrong. If you loved him you would prize above all else 
+this honor of which you intend to rob him."
+
+"I brought you here not to discuss whether I am right or wrong. 
+Look about you."
+
+Maurice was somewhat troubled to discover several troopers 
+lounging about just out of earshot. They were so arranged as to 
+prevent egress from the park. He looked thoughtfully at the wall.
+It was eight feet in height.
+
+Madame saw the look, and said, "Corporal!"
+
+There was a noise on the other side of the wall, and presently a 
+head bobbed up.
+
+"Madame?" inquired the head.
+
+"Nothing. I wished to know if you were at your post." She turned 
+to Maurice, who was puzzled to know what all this was preamble 
+to. "Monsieur Carewe, I never forget details. I had an idea that 
+when I submitted my proposals to you, you might be tempted to 
+break your parole."
+
+Maurice gnawed his lip. "Proceed, Madame."
+
+"There are only two. If you do not promise here and now in no 
+way to interfere with my plans, these troopers will convey you 
+to Brunnstadt, where you will be kept in confinement until the 
+succession to the throne is decided one way or the other. The 
+other proposal is, if you promise --and I have faith in your 
+word--the situation will continue the same as at present. Choose,
+Monsieur. Which is it to be?"
+
+The devil gleamed in his eyes. He remained silent.
+
+"Well! Well!" impatiently.
+
+"I accept the alternative," with bad grace. "If I made a dash--"
+
+"You would be shot; those were my orders."
+
+"And if I went to prison--"
+
+"You would miss what you call the comic opera, but which to me 
+is all there is in life. You say that I have read your friend 
+well. That is true. Do you think that it is easy for me to 
+lessen myself in my own eyes? No woman lives who is prouder than 
+I. Remember, you are not to hint at what I propose to do, nor 
+who I am. See! It is all because you read something which was 
+not intended for your eyes. Be my friend, or be my enemy, it is 
+a matter of indifference to me. You have only yourself to blame. 
+Had you gone about your business and not intruded where you were 
+not wanted, neither you nor your friend would be here. No 
+interference from you, Monsieur; that is the understanding." She 
+raised her hand and made a sign, and the troopers took 
+themselves off. "Now you may go--to the countess, if you wish; 
+though I dare say that she will not find you in the best of 
+tempers."
+
+"I dare say she won't," said Maurice.
+
+
+
+Fitzgerald sat by a window in the music room. He had resurrected 
+from no one knew where a clay with a broken stem. There was a 
+thoughtful cast to his countenance, and he puffed away, 
+blissfully unconscious of, or indifferent to, the close 
+proximity of the velvet curtains. A thrifty housewife, could she 
+have seen the smoke rise and curl and lose itself in the folds 
+above, would have experienced the ecstasy of anxiety and 
+perturbation. But there was no thrifty housewife at the Red 
+Chateau, nothing but dreams of conquest and revenge.
+
+Twilight was gathering about, soft-footed and shadowful. Long 
+reaches of violet and vermilion clouds pressed thickly on the 
+western line of hills. The mists began to rise, changing from 
+opal to sapphire. The fantastic melodies of wandering gypsy 
+songs went throbbing through the room; rollicking gavots, 
+Hungarian dances, low and slumbrous nocturnes. As the music grew 
+sadder and dreamier, the smoker moved uneasily.
+
+Somehow, it gripped his heart; and the long years of loneliness 
+returned and overwhelmed him. They marshaled past, thirteen in 
+all; and there were glimpses of deserts, snowcapped mountains, 
+men moving in the blur of smoke, long watches in the night. 
+Thirteen years in God-forsaken outposts, with never a sight of a 
+woman's face, the sound of her voice, the swish of her gown, nor 
+a touch of the spell which radiates from her presence.
+
+He had never made friends. Others had come up to him and passed 
+him, and had gone to the cities, leaving him to bear the brunt 
+of the cold, the heat, the watchfulness. He had made his bed; he 
+was too much his father's son to whine because it was hard. 
+Often he used to think how a few words, from a pride humbled, 
+would have removed the barrier. But the words never came, nor 
+was the pride ever humbled.
+
+Out of all the thirteen years he could remember only six months 
+of pleasure. He had been transferred temporarily to Calcutta, 
+where his Colonel, who had received secret information 
+concerning him, had treated him like a gentleman, and had 
+employed him as regimental interpreter, for he spoke French and 
+German and a smattering of Indian tongues. During his lonely 
+hours he had studied, for he knew that some day he would be 
+called upon to administer a vast fortune. . . . He laid the pipe 
+on the sill, rested his elbows beside it, and dropped his chin 
+in his hands. What a fool he had been to waste the best years of 
+his life! His father would have opened to him a boundless career;
+he would have seen the world under the guidance of a master 
+hand. And here he was to-day, the possessor of millions, a 
+beggar in friends, no niche to fill, a wanderer from place to 
+place.
+
+The old pile in England, he never wished to see it again; the 
+memories which it would arouse would be too bitter. . . . The 
+shade of Beethoven touched him as it passed; Mozart, Mendelssohn,
+Chopin. But he was thinking only of his loneliness, and the 
+marvelous touch of the hands which evoked the great spirits was 
+lost upon him.
+
+Maurice was seated in one of the gloomy corners. He had still 
+much good humor to recover. He pulled at his lips, and wondered 
+from time to time what was going on in Fitzgerald's head. Poor 
+devil! he thought; could he resist this woman whose 
+accomplishments were so varied that at one moment she could 
+overthrow a throne and at the next play Phyllis to some 
+strolling Corydon? Since he himself, who knew her, could 
+entertain for her nothing but admiration, what hope was there 
+for the Englishman? What a woman! She savored of three hundred 
+years off. To plan by herself, to arrange the minutest detail, 
+and above all to wait patiently! Patience has never been the 
+attribute of a woman of power; Madame possessed both patience 
+and power.
+
+The countess was seated in another dark corner. Suddenly she 
+arose and said, in a voice blended with great trouble and 
+impatience: "For pity's sake, Madame, cease those dirges! Play 
+something lively; I am sad."
+
+The music stopped, but presently began again. Maurice leaned 
+forward. Madame was playing Chopin's polonaise. He laughed 
+silently. He was in Madame's thoughts. It struck him, however, 
+that the notes had a defiant ring.
+
+"Lights!" called Madame, rising from the stool.
+
+Immediately a servant entered with candles and retired. Maurice, 
+when his eyes had grown accustomed to the lights, scanned the 
+three faces. Madame's was radiant. Fitzgerald's was a mixture--a 
+comical mixture--of content and enjoyment, but the countess's 
+was as colorless as the wax in the candlesticks. He asked 
+himself what other task she had to perform that she should take 
+so long to recover her roses. Had the knowledge of her recent 
+humiliation been too much for her?
+
+She was speaking to him. "Monsieur, will you walk with me in the 
+park? I am faint."
+
+"Are you ill, countess?" asked Madame, coming up and placing her 
+hand under the soft round chin of the other and striving to read 
+her eyes.
+
+"Not so ill, Madame, that a breath of fresh air will not revive 
+me." When they had gained the park, the countess said to Maurice:
+"Monsieur, I have brought you here to tell you something. I 
+fear that your friend is lost, for you can do nothing."
+
+"Not even if I break my word?" he asked.
+
+"It would do no good."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"It is too late," lowly. "I have been Madame's understudy too 
+long not to read. Forgive me. I was to keep you apart; I have 
+done so. The evil can not now be repaired. Your hope is that 
+Madame has not fully considered his pride."
+
+"Has she any regard for him?"
+
+"Sentiment?--love?" She uttered a short, incredulous laugh. 
+"Madame has brain, not heart. Could a woman with a heart plan as 
+she plans?"
+
+"Well, let us not talk of plots and plans; let us talk of--"
+
+"Monsieur, do not be unkind. I have asked your forgiveness. Let 
+us not talk; let us be silent and listen to the night;" and she 
+leaned over the terrace balustrade.
+
+Maurice floated. As he leaned beside her a strand of perfumed 
+hair blew across his nostrils.	 . . . The princess was at best a 
+dream. It was not likely that he ever would speak to her again. 
+The princess was a poem, unlettered and unrhymed. But here, 
+close to him, was a bit of beautiful material prose. The hair 
+again blew out toward him and he moved his lips. She heard the 
+vague sound and lifted her head.
+
+Far away came the call of the sentry; a horse whinneyed in the 
+stables. There was in the air the odor of an approaching storm.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+WHOM THE GODS DESTROY AND A FEW OTHERS
+
+Some time passed before Fitzgerald became aware of Maurice's 
+departure. When he saw that he and Madame were alone, he said 
+nothing, but pulled all the quicker at his clay. He wondered at 
+the desire which suddenly manifested itself. Fly? Why should he 
+fly? The beat of his pulse answered him. . . . What a fine thing 
+it was to feel the presence of a woman--a woman like this! What 
+a fine thing always to experience the content derived from her 
+nearness!
+
+He looked into his heart; there was no animosity; there was 
+nothing at all but a sense of gratefulness. In the dreary 
+picture of his life there was now an illumined corner. He had 
+ceased to blame her; she was doing for her country what he, did 
+necessity so will, would do for his. And after all, he could not 
+war against a woman--a woman like this. His innate chivalry was 
+too deep-rooted.
+
+How soft her voice was! The color of her hair and eyes followed 
+him night and day. Once he had been on the verge of sounding 
+Maurice in regard to Madame, Maurice was so learned in 
+femininities; but this would have been an acknowledgment of his 
+ignorance, and pride closed his mouth. It was all impossible, 
+but then, why should he return to his loneliness without 
+attempting to find some one to share it with him? The king was 
+safe; his duty was as good as done; his conscience was at ease 
+in that direction. He needed not love, he thought, so much as 
+sympathy. . . . Sympathy. He turned over the word in his mind as 
+a gem merchant turns over in his hand a precious jewel. Sympathy;
+it was the key to all he desired --woman's sympathy. There was 
+nothing but ash in the bowl of his pipe, but he continued to 
+puff.
+
+Madame was seated at the piano again, idly thrumming soft minor 
+chords. She was waiting for him to speak; she wanted to test his 
+voice, to know and measure its emotion. At times she turned her 
+head and shot a sly glance at him as he sat there musing. There 
+was a wrinkle of contempt and amusement lurking at the corners 
+of her eyes. Had Maurice been there he would have seen it. 
+Fitzgerald might have gazed into those eyes until doomsday, and 
+never have seen else than their gray fathoms. Minute after 
+minute passed, still he did not speak; and Madame was forced to 
+break the monotony. She was not sure that the countess could 
+hold Maurice very long.
+
+"Of what are you thinking, Monsieur?" she asked, in a soft key.
+
+He started, looked up and laid the pipe on the sill. "Frankly, I 
+was thinking that nothing can be gained by keeping us prisoners 
+here." He told the lie rather diffidently.
+
+"Not even forgiveness?" The lids of the gray eyes drooped and 
+the music ceased.
+
+"Forgiveness? O, there is nothing to forgive you; it is only 
+your mistress I can not forgive. On the contrary, there is much 
+to thank you for."
+
+"Still, whatever I do or have done is merely in accordance with 
+her Highness's wishes."
+
+He moved uneasily. "It is her will, not yours."
+
+"Yes; the heart of Madame Amerbach is supine to the brain of 
+Madame the duchess." She rose and moved silently to the window 
+and peered out. He thought her to be star-gazing; but she was not.
+She was endeavoring to see where Maurice and the countess were.
+
+"Madame, shall I tell you a secret?"
+
+"A secret? Tell me," sitting in the chair next to his.
+
+"This has been the pleasantest week I have known in thirteen 
+years."
+
+"Then you forgive me!" Madame was not only mistress of music but 
+of tones.
+
+"Yes."
+
+And then, out of the fullness of his lonely heart, he told her 
+all about his life, its emptiness, its deserts, its longings. 
+Each sentence was a knife placed in her hands; and as she 
+contemplated his honest face which could conceal nothing, his 
+earnest eyes which could hide nothing, Madame was conscious of a 
+vague distrust of herself. If only he had offered to fight, she 
+thought. But he had not; instead, he was giving to her all his 
+weapons of defense.
+
+"Ah, Monsieur, you do wrong to forgive me!" impulsively.
+
+He smiled.
+
+"Why should you be friendly to me when I represent all that is 
+antagonistic to you?"
+
+"To me you represent only a beautiful woman."
+
+"Ah; you have been taking lessons of your friend."
+
+"He is a good teacher. He is one of those men whom I admire. 
+Women have never mastered him. He knows so much about them."
+
+"Yes?" a flicker in her eyes.
+
+"Beneath all his banter there is a brave heart. He is a rare man 
+who, having brain and heart to guide, follows the heart." He 
+picked up the pipe and began to play a tattoo on the sill. "As 
+for me, I know nothing of women, save what I have read in books, 
+and save that I have been too long without them."
+
+"And you have gone all these years without knowing what it is to 
+love?" To a man less guileless, this question would not have 
+been in good taste.
+
+Fitzgerald was silent; he dared not venture another lie.
+
+"What! you are silent? Is there, after all, a woman somewhere in 
+your life?"
+
+"Yes." He continued to tap the pipe. His gaze wandered to the 
+candles, strayed back to the window, then met hers steadfastly, 
+so steadfastly, that she could not resist. She was annoyed.
+
+"Tell me about her."
+
+"My vocabulary is too limited. You would laugh at me."
+
+"I? No; love is sacred." She had boasted to Maurice that she was 
+without conscience; she had only smothered it. "Come; is she 
+beautiful?"
+
+"Yes." These questions disturbed him.
+
+"Certainly she must be worthy or you would not love her. She is 
+rich?"
+
+"That does not matter; I am." He was wishing that Maurice would 
+hurry back; the desire to fly was returning.
+
+"And she rejected you and sent you to the army?"
+
+"She has not rejected me, though I dare say she would, had I the 
+presumption to ask her."
+
+"A faint heart, they say--"
+
+"My heart is not faint; it is my tongue." He rose and wandered 
+about the room. Her breath was like orris, and went to his head 
+like wine.
+
+"Monsieur," she said, "is it possible that you have succumbed to 
+the charms of Madame the countess?"
+
+He laughed. "One may admire exquisite bric-a-brac without loving 
+it."
+
+"Bric-a-brac! Poor Elsa!" and Madame laughed. "If it were the 
+countess I could aid you."
+
+"Love is not merchandise, to traffic with."
+
+Madame's cheeks grew warm. Sometimes the trick of fence is 
+beaten down by a tyro's stroke.
+
+"Eh, bien, since it is not the countess--"
+
+He came toward her so swiftly that instinctively she rose and 
+moved to the opposite side of her chair. Something in his face 
+caused her to shiver. She had no time to analyze its meaning, 
+but she knew that the shiver was not unmixed with fear.
+
+"Madame, in God's name, do not play with me!" he cried.
+
+"Monsieur, you forget yourself," for the moment forgetting her part.
+
+"Yes, there is no self in my thoughts since they are all of you! 
+You know that I love you. Who could resist you? Thirteen years? 
+They are well wasted, in the end to love a woman like you."
+
+Before she could withdraw her hands from the top of the chair he 
+had seized them.
+
+"Monsieur, release me." She struggled futilely.
+
+"I love you." He began to draw her from behind the chair.
+
+"Monsieur, Monsieur!" she, cried, genuinely alarmed; "do not 
+forget that you are a gentleman."
+
+"I am not a gentleman now; I am a man who loves."
+
+Madame was now aware that what she had aroused could not be 
+subdued by angry words.
+
+"Monsieur, you say that you love me; do not degrade me by 
+forcing me into your arms. I am a woman, and weak, and you are 
+hurting me."
+
+He let go her hands, and they stood there, breathing deeply and 
+quickly. But for her it was a respite. She had been too 
+precipitate. She brought together the subtle forces of her mind. 
+She could gain nothing by force; she must use cunning. To hold 
+him at arm's length, and yet to hold him, was her desire. She 
+had reckoned on wax; a man stood before her. All at once the 
+flutter of admiration stirred in her heart. She was a soldier's 
+daughter, the daughter of a man who loved strong men. And this 
+man was doubly strong because he was fearless and honest. She 
+read in his eyes that a moment more and he had kissed her, a 
+thing no man save her father had ever done.
+
+"O, Monsieur," she said lightly, "you soldiers are such forward 
+lovers! You have not even asked me if I love you." He made a 
+move to regain her hands. "No, no!" darting behind the chair. 
+"You must not take my hands; you do not realize how strong you 
+are. I am not sure that my heart responds to yours."
+
+"Tell me, what must I do?" leaning across the chair.
+
+"You must have patience. A woman must be wooed her own way, or 
+not at all. What a whirlwind you are!"
+
+"I would to heaven," with a gesture indicative of despair, "that 
+you had kept me behind bars and closed doors." He dropped his 
+hands from the chair and sought the window, leaning his arms 
+against the central frame.
+
+Madame had fully recovered her composure. She saw her way to the 
+end.
+
+"It is true," she said, "that I do not love you, but it is also 
+true that I am not indifferent to you. What proof have I that 
+you really love me? None, save your declaration; and that is not 
+sufficient for a woman such as I am. Shall I place my life in 
+your hands for better or for worse, simply because you say you 
+love me?"
+
+"My love does not reason, Madame."
+
+She passed over this stroke. "I do not know you; it is not less 
+than natural for me to doubt you. What proof have I that your 
+declaration of love is not a scheme to while away your captivity 
+at my expense? My heart is not one to be taken by storm. There 
+is only one road to my affections; it is narrow. Other men have 
+made love to me, but they have hesitated to enter upon this self-
+same road."
+
+"Love that demands conditions? I have asked none."
+
+Madame blushed. "A man offers love; a woman confers it."
+
+"And what is this narrow road called which leads to your 
+affections? Is your heart a citadel?"
+
+"It is called sacrifice. Those who dwell in my heart, which you 
+call a citadel, enter by that road."
+
+"Sacrifice?" Fervor lighted his face again. "Do you wish my 
+fortune? It is yours. My life? It is yours. Do you wish me to 
+lead the army of the duchess into Bleiberg? It shall be done. 
+Sacrifice? I have sacrificed the best years of youth for nothing;
+my life has been made up of sacrifices."
+
+"Monsieur, if I promised to listen to you here-after, if I 
+promised a heart that has never known the love of man, if I 
+promised lips that have never known the lips of any man save my 
+father--" She moved away from the chair, within an arm's length 
+of him. "If I promised all these without reservation, would you 
+aid me to give back to the duchess her own?"
+
+Instantly her arms were pinioned to her sides, and he had drawn 
+her so close that she could feel his heart beat against her own.
+
+"Have no fear," he said. The voice was unfamiliar to her ears. 
+"I shall not kiss you. Let me look into your eyes, Madame, your 
+eyes, and read the lie which is written there. My fortune and my 
+life are not enough. Keep your love, Madame; I have no wish to 
+purchase it. What! if I surrender my honor it is agreed that you 
+surrender yours? A love such as mine requires a wife. You would 
+have me break my word to the dead and to the living, and you 
+expect me to believe in your promises! Faugh!" He pushed her 
+from him, and resumed his stand by the window.
+
+The hate of a thousand ancestors surged into her heart, and she 
+would have liked to kill him. Mistress! He had dared. He had 
+dared to speak to her as no other man living or dead had dared. 
+And he lived. All that was tigerish in her soul rose to the 
+surface; only the thought of the glittering goal stayed the 
+outburst. She had yet one weapon. A minute went by, still 
+another; silence. A hand was laid tremblingly on his arm.
+
+"Forgive me! I was wrong. Love me, love me, if you must. Keep 
+your honor; love me without conditions. I--" She stumbled into 
+the chair, covered her eyes and fell to weeping.
+
+Fitzgerald, dumfounded and dismayed, looked. down at the 
+beautiful head. He could fight angry words, tempests of wrath--
+but tears, a woman's tears, the tears of the woman he loved!
+
+"Madame," he said gently, "do you love me?"
+
+No answer.
+
+"Madame, for God's sake, do not weep! Do you love me? If you 
+love me--if you love me--"
+
+She sprang to her feet. Once again she experienced that shiver; 
+again her conscience stirred.
+
+"I do not know," she said. "But this I may say: your honor, 
+which you hold above the price of a woman's love, will be the 
+cause of bloodshed. Mothers and wives and sisters will execrate 
+your name, brave men will be sacrificed needlessly. What are the 
+Osians to you? They are strangers. You will do for them, and 
+uselessly, what you refuse to do for the woman you profess to 
+love. I abhor bloodshed. Your honor is the offspring of pride 
+and egotism. Can you not see the inevitable? War will be 
+declared. You can not help Leopold; but you can save him the 
+degradation of being expelled from his throne by force of arms. 
+The army of the duchess is true to its humblest sword. Can you 
+say that for the army of the king? Would you witness the 
+devastation of a beautiful city, by flame and sword?
+
+"Monsieur, Austria is with us, and she will abide with us 
+whichever way we move. Austria, Monsieur, which is Leopold's 
+sponsor. And this Leopold, is he a man to sit upon a throne? Is 
+he a king in any sense of the word? Would a king submit to such 
+ignominy as he submits to without striking a blow? Would he 
+permit his ministers to override him? Would he permit his army 
+to murmur, his agents to plunder, his people to laugh at him, if 
+he possessed one kingly attribute? No, no! If you were king, 
+would you allow these things? No! You would silence all murmurs, 
+you would disgorge your agents, you would throttle those who 
+dared to laugh.
+
+"Put yourself in the duchess's place. All these beautiful lands 
+are hers by right of succession; is she wrong to desire them? 
+What does she wish to accomplish? She wishes to join the kingdom 
+and the duchy, and to make a great kingdom, as it formerly was. 
+Do you know why Leopold was seated upon the throne?
+
+"Some day the confederation will decide to divide all these 
+lands into tidbits, and there will be no one to oppose them. 
+Madame the duchess wishes to be strong enough to prevent it. And 
+you, Monsieur, are the grain of sand which stops all this, you 
+and your pride. Not even a woman's love-- There, I have said it!-
+-not even a woman's love-- will move your sense of justice. Go! 
+leave me. Since my love is nothing, since the sacrifice I make 
+is useless, go; you are free!" The tears which came into her 
+eyes this time were genuine; tears of chagrin, vexation, and of 
+a third sensation which still remained a mystery to her.
+
+To him, as she spoke, with her wonderful eyes flashing, a rich 
+color suffusing her cheeks and throat and temples, the dim 
+candle light breaking against the ruddy hair; honor or pride, 
+whichever it was, was well worth the losing. He was a man; it is 
+only the pope who is said to be infallible. His honor could not 
+save the king. All she had said was true. If he held to his word 
+there would be war and bloodshed.
+
+On the other hand, if he surrendered, less harm would befall the 
+king, and the loss of his honor --was it honor?--would be well 
+recompensed for the remainder of his days by the love of this 
+woman. His long years of loneliness came back; he wavered. He 
+glanced first at her, then at the door; one represented all that 
+was desirable in the world, the other more loneliness, coupled 
+with unutterable regret. Still he wavered, and finally he fell.
+
+"Madame, will you be my wife?"
+
+"Yes." And it seemed to her that the word, came to her lips by 
+no volition of hers. As she had grown red but a moment gone, she 
+now grew correspondingly pale, and her limbs shook. She had 
+irrevocably committed herself. "No, no!" as she saw him start 
+forward with outstretched arms,. "not my lips till I am your 
+wife! Not my lips; only my hands!"
+
+He covered them with kisses.
+
+"Hush!" as she stepped back.
+
+It was time. Maurice and the countess entered the room. Maurice 
+glanced from Madame to Fitzgerald and back to Madame; he frowned.
+The Englishman, who had never before had cause to dissemble, 
+caught up his pipe and fumbled it. This act merely discovered 
+his embarrassment to the keen eyes of his friend. He had 
+forgotten all about Maurice. What would he say? Maurice was 
+something like a conscience to him, and his heart grew troubled.
+
+"Madame," Maurice whispered to the countess, "I have lost all 
+faith in you; you have kept me too long under the stars."
+
+"Confidences?" said Madame, with a swift inquiring glance at the 
+countess.
+
+"O, no," said Maurice. "I simply complained that Madame the 
+countess had kept me too long under the stars. But here is 
+Colonel Mollendorf, freshly returned from Brunnstadt to inform 
+you that the army is fully prepared for any emergency. Is not 
+that true, Colonel?" as he beheld that individual standing in 
+the doorway.
+
+"Yes; but how the deuce--your pardon, ladies! --did you find 
+that out?" demanded the Colonel.
+
+"I guessed it," was the answer. "But there will be no need of an 
+army now. Come, John, the Colonel, who is no relative of the 
+king's minister of police, has not the trick of concealing his 
+impatience. He has something important to say to Madame, and we 
+are in the way. Come along, AEneas, follow your faithful Achates;
+Thalia has a rehearsal."
+
+Fitzgerald thrust his pipe into a pocket. "Good night, Madame," 
+he said diffidently; "and you, countess."
+
+"Good night, Colonel," sang out Maurice over his shoulder, and 
+together the pair climbed the stairs.
+
+Fitzgerald was at a loss how to begin, for something told him 
+that Maurice would demand an explanation, though the affair was 
+none of his concern. He filled his pipe, fired it and tramped 
+about the room. Sometimes he picked up the end of a window 
+curtain and felt of it; sometimes he posed before one of the 
+landscape oils.
+
+"You have something on your mind," said Maurice, pulling off his 
+hussar jacket and kicking it across the room.
+
+"Madame has promised to be my wife."
+
+"And the conditions?" curtly.
+
+Fitzgerald pondered over the other's lack of surprise. "What 
+would you do if you loved a woman and she promised to be your 
+wife?"
+
+"I'd marry her," sitting down at the table.
+
+"What would you do in my place, and Madame had promised to marry 
+you?" puffing quickly.
+
+"I'd marry her," answered Maurice, banging his fist on the table,
+"even if all the kings and queens of Europe rose up against me. 
+I would marry her, if I had to bind her hands and feet and carry 
+her to the altar and force the priest at the point of a pistol, 
+which, in all probability, is what you will have to do."
+
+"I love her," sullenly.
+
+"Do you know who she is?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Would it make any difference?"
+
+"No. Who is she?"
+
+"She is a woman without conscience; she is a woman who, to gain 
+her miserable ends, will stop neither at falsehood, deceit nor 
+bloodshed. Do you want me to tell you more? She is--"
+
+"Maurice, tell me nothing which will cause me to regret your 
+friendship. I love her; she has promised to be my wife."
+
+"She will ruin you."
+
+"She has already done that," laconically.
+
+"Do you mean to tell me--"
+
+"Yes! For the promise of her love I am dishonored. For the 
+privilege of kissing her lips I have sold my honor. To call her 
+mine, I would go through hell. God! do you know what it is to be 
+lonely, to starve in God-forsaken lands, to dream of women, to 
+long for them?"
+
+"And the poor paralytic king?"
+
+"What is he to me?"
+
+"And your father?"
+
+"What are my dead father's wishes? Maurice, I am mad!"
+
+"You are a very sick man," Maurice replied crossly. "What's to 
+become of all these vows--"
+
+"You are wasting your breath! Do you remember what 
+Rochefoucauld said of Madame de Longueville?--`To win her heart, 
+to delight her beautiful eyes, I have taken up arms against the 
+king; I would have done the same against the gods!' Is she not 
+worth it all?" with a gesture of his arms which sent the live 
+coals of his pipe comet-like across the intervening space. "Is 
+she not worth it all?"
+
+"Who?--Madame de Longueville? I thought she was dead these two 
+hundred years!"
+
+"Damn it, Maurice!"
+
+"I will, if you say so. The situation is equal to a good deal of 
+plain, honest damning." Maurice banged his fist again. "John, 
+sit down and listen to me. I'll not sit still and see you made a 
+fool. Promises? This woman will keep none. When she has wrung 
+you dry she will fling you aside. At this moment she is probably 
+laughing behind your back. You were brought here for this 
+purpose. Threats and bribes were without effect. Love might 
+accomplish what the other two had failed to do. You know little 
+of the ways of the world. Do you know that this house party is 
+scandalous, for all its innocence? Do you know that Madame's 
+name would be a byword were it known that we have been here more 
+than two weeks, alone with two women? Who but a woman that feels 
+herself above convention would dare offer this affront to 
+society? Do you know why Madame the countess came? Company for 
+Madame? No; she was to play make love to me to keep me out of 
+the way. Ass that I was, I never suspected till too late! 
+Madame's name is not Sylvia Amerbach; it is--"
+
+The door opened unceremoniously and in walked the Colonel.
+
+"Your voices are rather high, gentlemen," he said calmly, and 
+sat down in an easy chair.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+BEING OF COMPLICATIONS NOT RECKONED ON
+
+Maurice leaped to his feet, a menace in his eyes. The Colonel 
+crossed his legs, rested his hands on the hilt of his saber, and 
+smiled.
+
+"I could not resist the desire to have a friendly chat with you."
+
+"You have come cursed inopportune," snarled Maurice. "What do 
+you want?"
+
+"I want to give you the countersigns, so that when you start for 
+Bleiberg to-morrow morning you'll have no trouble."
+
+"Bleiberg !" exclaimed Maurice.
+
+"Bleiberg. Madame desires me to say to you that you are to start 
+for that city in the morning, to fetch those slips of parchment 
+which have caused us all these years of worry. Ah, my friend," 
+to Fitzgerald, "Madame would be cheap at twenty millions! You 
+sly dog! And I never suspected it."
+
+Fitzgerald sent him a scowl. "You are damned impertinent, sir."
+
+"Impertinent?" The Colonel uncrossed his legs and brought his 
+knees together. "Madame has been under my care since she was a 
+child, Monsieur; I have a fatherly interest in her. At any rate, 
+I am glad that the affair is at an end. It was very noble in you.
+If I had had my way, though, it would have been war, pure and 
+simple. I left the duchess in Brunnstadt this morning; she will 
+be delighted to attend the wedding."
+
+"She will attend it," said Maurice, grimly; "but I would not lay 
+odds on her delight. Colonel, the devil take me if I go to 
+Bleiberg on any such errand." He went to the window seat.
+
+The Colonel rose and followed him. "Pardon me," he said to 
+Fitzgerald, who did not feel at all complimented by Madame's 
+haste; "a few words in Monsieur Carewe's ear. He will go to 
+Bleiberg; he will be glad to go." He bent towards Maurice. "Go 
+to Bleiberg, my son. A word to him about Madame, and off you go 
+to Brunnstadt. Will you be of any use there? I think not. The 
+little countess would cry out her pretty eyes if she heard that 
+you were languishing in the city prison at Brunnstadt, where 
+only the lowest criminals are confined. Submit gracefully, that 
+is to say, like a soldier against whom the fortunes of war have 
+gone. Go to Bleiberg."
+
+"I'll go. I give up." It was not the threat which brought him to 
+this decision. It was a vision of a madonna-like face. "I'll go, 
+John. Where are the certificates?"
+
+"Between the mattresses and the slats of my bed you will find a 
+gun in a case. The certificates are in the barrels." His 
+countenance did not express any particular happiness; the lines 
+about his mouth were sharper than usual.
+
+"The devil!" cried the Colonel; "if only I had known that!" He 
+laughed. "Well, I'll leave you. Six o'clock--what's this?" as he 
+stooped and picked up Maurice's cast-off hussar jacket.
+
+"I was about to use it as a door mat," said Maurice, who was in 
+a nasty humor. That Fitzgerald had surrendered did not irritate 
+him half so much as the thought that he was the real puppet. His 
+hands were tied, he could not act, and he was one that loved his 
+share in games.
+
+The Colonel reddened under his tan. "No; I'll not lose my temper,
+though this is cause enough. Curse me, but you lack courtesy. 
+This is my uniform, and whatever it may be to you it is sacred 
+to me. You were not forced into it; you were not compelled to 
+wear it. What would you do if a man wore your uniform and flung 
+it around in this manner?"
+
+"I'd knock him down," Maurice admitted. "I apologize, Colonel; 
+it was not manly. But you must make allowances; my good nature 
+has suffered a severe strain. I'll get into my own clothes to-
+morrow if you will have a servant sew on some buttons and mend 
+the collar. By the way, who is eating three meals a day in the 
+east corridor on the third floor?"
+
+Their glances fenced. The Colonel rubbed his mustache.
+
+"I like you," he said; "hang me if I don't. But as well as I 
+like you, I would not give a denier for your life if you were 
+found in that self-same corridor. The sentinel has orders to 
+shoot; but don't let that disturb you; you will know sooner or 
+later. It is better to wait than be shot. A horse will be 
+saddled at six. You will find it in the court. The countersigns 
+are Weixel and Arnoldt. Good luck to you."
+
+"The same to you," rejoined Maurice, "only worse."
+
+The Colonel's departure was followed by a period of temporary 
+speechlessness. Maurice smoked several "Khedives," while 
+Fitzgerald emptied two or three pipe-bowls.
+
+"You seem to be in bad odor, Maurice," the latter ventured.
+
+"In more ways than one. Where, in heaven's name, did you 
+resurrect that pipe?"
+
+"In the stables. It isn't the pipe, it's the tobacco. I had to 
+break up some cigars."
+
+Then came another period in the conversation. It occurred to 
+both that something yawned between them--a kind of abyss. Out of 
+this abyss one saw his guilt arise. . . . A woman stood at his 
+side. He had an accomplice. He had thrown the die, and he would 
+stand stubbornly to it. His pride built yet another wall around 
+him, impregnable either to protests or to sneers. He loved-- 
+that was recompense enough. A man will forgive himself of grave 
+sins when these are debtors to his love.
+
+As for the other, he beheld a trust betrayed, and he was 
+powerless to prevent it. Besides, his self-love smarted, chagrin 
+made eyes at him; and, more than all else, he recognized his own 
+share in the Englishman's fall from grace. It had been innocent 
+mischief on his part, true, but nevertheless he stood culpable. 
+He had no business to talk to a woman he did not know. The more 
+he studied the aspects of the situation the more whimsical it 
+grew. He was the prime cause of a king losing his throne, of a 
+man losing his honor, of a princess becoming an outcast.
+
+"Your bride-elect," he said, "seems somewhat over-hasty. Well, 
+I'm off to bed."
+
+"Maurice, can you blame me?"
+
+"No, John; whom the gods destroy they first make mad. You will 
+come to your senses when it is too late."
+
+"For God's sake, Maurice, who is she?"
+
+"What will you do if she breaks her promise?" adroitly evading 
+the question.
+
+"What shall I do?" He emptied the ashes from his pipe, and rose; 
+all that was aggressive came into his face. "I will bind her 
+hands and feet and carry her to the altar, and shoot the priest 
+that refuses to marry us. O Maurice, rest easy; no woman lives 
+who will make a fool of me, and laugh."
+
+"That's comfort;" and Maurice turned in.
+
+This night it was the Englishman who sat up till the morning 
+hours. Sylvia Amerbach. . . . A fear possessed him. If it should 
+be, he thought; if it should be, what then?
+
+
+
+Midnight in Madame's boudoir; no light save that which streamed 
+rosily from the coals in the grate. The countess sat with her 
+slippered feet upon the fender. She held in her hand a screen, 
+and if any thoughts marked her face, they remained in blurred 
+obscurity.
+
+"Heu!" said Madame from the opposite side; "it is all over. It 
+was detestable. I, to suffer this humiliation! Do you know what 
+I have done? I have promised to be his wife! His wife, I! Is it 
+not droll?" There was a surprising absence of mirth in the low 
+laugh which followed.
+
+"I trust Madame will find it droll."
+
+"And you?"
+
+"And I, Madame?"
+
+"Yes; did you not bring the clown to your feet?"
+
+"No, Madame."
+
+"How? You did not have the joy denied me --of laughing in his face?"
+
+"No, Madame." With each answer the voice grew lower.
+
+"Since when have I been Madame to you?"
+
+"Since to-day."
+
+Madame reached out a band and pressed down the screen. "Elsa, 
+what is it?"
+
+"What is what, Madame?"
+
+"This strange mood of yours."
+
+Silence.
+
+"You were gay enough this morning. Tell me."
+
+"There is nothing to tell, Madame, save that my sacrifices are 
+at an end. I have nothing left."
+
+"What! You forsake me when the end is won?" in astonishment.
+
+"I did not say that I should desert you; I said that I had no 
+more sacrifices to make." The Countess rose. "For your sake, 
+Madame, because you have always been kind to me, and because it 
+is impossible not to love you, I have degraded myself. I have 
+pretended to love a man who saw through the artifice and told me 
+so, to save me further shame. O Madame, it is all execrable!
+
+"And you will use this love which you have gained--this first 
+love of a man who has known no other and will know no other 
+while he lives!-- to bring about his ruin? This other, at whose 
+head you threw me--beware of him. He is light-hearted and gay, 
+perhaps. You call him a clown; he is cunning and brave; and 
+unless you judge him at his true value, your fabric of schemes 
+will fall ere it reaches its culmination. Could even you trick 
+him with words? No. You were compelled to use force. Is he not 
+handsome, Madame?" with a feverish gaiety. "Is there a gentleman 
+at your court who is a more perfect cavalier? Why, he blushes 
+like a woman! Is there in your court--" But her sentence broke, 
+and she could not go on.
+
+"Elsa, are you mad?"
+
+"Yes, Madame, yes; they call it a species of madness." Then, 
+with a sudden gust of wrath: "Why did you not leave me in peace? 
+You have destroyed me! O, the shame of it!" and she fled into 
+her own room.
+
+Madame sat motionless. This, among other things, she had not 
+reckoned on.
+
+Only the troopers and the servants slept in peace that night.
+
+Maurice was up betimes next morning. The hills and valleys lay 
+under a mantle of sparkling rime, and the very air, keen of edge 
+and whistling, glistened in the sunlight. The iron shoes of the 
+horses beat sharply on the stone flooring of the court yard. 
+Maurice examined his riding furniture; pulled at the saddle, 
+tugged at the rein buckles, lifted the leather flaps and tried 
+the stirrup straps. It was not that he doubted the ability of 
+the groom; it was because this particular care was second nature 
+to him.
+
+Fitzgerald watched him, and meditated. Some of his thoughts were 
+not pleasant. His eyes were heavy. At times he would lift his 
+shoulders and permit half a smile to flicker over his lips; a 
+certain thought caused this. The Colonel sat astride a broad-
+chested cavalry horse, spotless white. He was going to accompany 
+Maurice to the frontier. He had imbibed the exhilarating tonic 
+of the morning, and his spirits ran high. At length Maurice 
+leaped into the saddle, caught the stirrups well, and signaled 
+to the Colonel that he was ready.
+
+"You understand, Maurice?" Fitzgerald asked.
+
+"Yes, John; all the world loves a lover. Besides, it is a 
+glorious morning for a ride. Up, portcullis, down drawbridge!" 
+waving his hand to the Colonel.
+
+And away they went through the gateway, into the frosted road. 
+Maurice felt the spirit of some medieval ancestor creep into his 
+veins and he longed for an hour of the feudal days, to rescue a 
+princess from some dungeon-keep and to harry an over-lord. After 
+all, she was a wonderful woman, and Fitzgerald was only a man. 
+To give up all for the love of woman is the only sacrifice a man 
+can make.
+
+"En avant!" cried the Colonel. "A fine day, a fine day for the 
+house of Auersperg!"
+
+"And a devilish bad one for the houses of Fitzgerald and Carewe. 
+Woman's ambition, coupled with her deceit, is the root of all 
+evil; money is simply an invention of man to protect himself 
+from her encroachments. Eve was ambitious and deceitful; all 
+women are her daughters. When the pages of history grow dull--"
+
+"Time puts a maggot in my lady's brain," supplemented the 
+Colonel. "It is like a row of dominoes. The power behind the 
+throne, the woman behind the power; an impulse moves the woman, 
+and lo! how they clatter down. But without woman, history would 
+be poor reading. The greatest battles in the world, could we but 
+see behind, were fought for women. Men are but footnotes, and 
+unfortunately history is made up of footnotes. But it is a fine 
+thing to be a footnote; that is my ambition.
+
+"Ah, if you but knew what a pleasure it is for an old man like 
+me to have a finger in the game time plays! To meddle with 
+affairs, directly or indirectly! Kingdoms are but judy shows, 
+kings and queens but puppets; but we who pull the strings--Ah, 
+that is it! To play a game of chess with crowns!"
+
+"There are exceptions; Madame seems to hold the strings in this 
+instance."
+
+"Madame follows my advice in all she does."
+
+Maurice opened his eyes at this statement.
+
+"Would you believe an old man like me could lay such a train? 
+All this was my idea. It was difficult to get Madame to agree 
+with my views. War? I am not afraid of it; I am suspicious of it.
+One day your friend returned a personal letter of Madame's 
+having written across it, `I laugh at you.' It was very foolish. 
+No man laughs at Madame more than once. She will, one day, 
+return this letter to him. A crown, a fine revenge, in one fell 
+swoop."
+
+"She will ruin him utterly?"
+
+"Utterly."
+
+"Have you any idea what sort of man my friend is?"
+
+"He lacks the polish of a man of affairs, and he surrenders too 
+easily."
+
+"He will never surrender--Madame."
+
+"How?"
+
+"You remember his father; he will prove his father's son, every 
+inch of him. O, my Colonel, the curtain has only risen. One fine 
+morning your duchy will wake up without a duchess."
+
+"What do you imply--an abduction?" The Colonel laughed.
+
+"That is my secret."
+
+"And the pretty countess?" banteringly.
+
+"It was rather bad taste in Madame. It was putting love and 
+patriotism to questionable purposes. I am a gentleman."
+
+"It was out of consideration for you; Madame was not quite sure 
+about you. But you are right; all of it has rather a dark shade. 
+You may rob a man of his valuables and give them back; a broken 
+word is not to be mended. Why did you keep the hiding place so 
+secret? I could have got those consols, and all this would have 
+been avoided."
+
+"How should I know where they were? It was none of my affair."
+
+"We are trusting you; I might have gone myself. You will return 
+with the treasure. Why have I not asked your word? Curiosity 
+will bring you back; curiosity. Besides this, you have an idea 
+that with your presence about, a flaw in the glass may be found. 
+Yes, you will be back. History is to be made; when you are old 
+you will glance at the page and say: `Look there; rather a 
+pretty bit, eh? Well, I helped to make it; indeed, had it not 
+been for me and my curiosity it would not have been made at all.'
+Above all things, do not stop to talk to veiled women."
+
+There was a chuckling sound. "I say, your Englishman is clever 
+now and then. In the gun barrels! Who would have looked for them 
+there? But why did he come himself? Why did he not trust to his 
+bankers? Why did he not turn over the affair to his 
+representative, the British minister? There were a hundred ways 
+of averting the catastrophe. Why did he not use a little fore-
+thought when he knew how anxious we were for his distinguished 
+person?"
+
+"Why does the moon rise at night and the sun at dawn? I am no 
+Cumaean Sybil. Perhaps it is the impulse which moves the woman 
+behind the power behind the throne; they call it fate. Had I 
+been in his place I dare say I should have followed his 
+footsteps."
+
+Not long after they arrived at the frontier where they were to 
+separate, to meet again under conditions disagreeable to both. 
+The Colonel gave him additional instructions.
+
+"Go; return as quickly as possible."
+
+"Never fear; I should not like to miss the finale to this opera 
+bouffe."
+
+"Rail on, my son; call it by any name you please, only do not 
+interrupt the prompter;" and with this the Colonel waved him an 
+adieu.
+
+Maurice began the journey through the mountain pass, thinking 
+and planning and scheming. However he looked at the situation, 
+the end was the same: the Osians were doomed. If he himself 
+played false and retained the certificates until too late to be 
+of benefit to the duchess, war would follow; and the kingdom 
+would be soundly beaten. . . . Would Prince Frederick still hold 
+to his agreement and marry her Royal Highness, however ill the 
+fortunes of war fared? There was a swift current of blood to his 
+heart. The Voiture-verse of a countess faded away. . . . 
+Supposing Prince Frederick withdrew his claims? Some day her 
+Highness would be free; free, without title or money or shelter. 
+It was a wild dream. Was there not, when all was said, a faint 
+hope for his own affairs in the fall of Fitzgerald?
+
+She was lonely, friendless, personally known to few. Still, she 
+would be an Osian princess for all her misfortunes. But an Osian 
+princess was not so great that love might not possess her. 
+Without royalty she would be only a woman. What would Austria do;
+what would Austria say? If Austria had placed Leopold on the 
+throne, certainly it was to shut out the house of Auersperg.
+
+And who was this man Beauvais, who served one house openly and 
+another under the rose? Where had he met him before, and why did 
+the thought of him cause unrest? To rescue her somehow, to win 
+her love, to see the glory of the world light the heavens in her 
+eyes! If the dream was mad, it was no less pleasant.
+
+He was a commoner; he had nothing in the world but his brain and 
+his arm. Fitzgerald, now, possessed a famous title and an 
+ancient name. These kings and princes hereabout could boast of 
+but little more than he; and there were millions to back him. He 
+could dream of princesses and still be sane. Maurice did not 
+envy the Englishman's riches, but he coveted his right of way.
+
+How often had he indulged in vain but pleasant dreams! Even in 
+the old days he was always succoring some proud beauty in 
+distress. Sometimes it was at sea, sometimes in railroad wrecks, 
+sometimes in the heart of flames; but he was ever there, like a 
+guardian angel. It was never the same heroine, but that did not 
+matter; she was always beautiful and rich, high placed and 
+lovable, and he never failed to brush aside all obstacles that 
+beset the path to the church door. He had dreamed of paladins, 
+and here at last was his long-sought opportunity--but he could 
+do nothing! He laughed. How many such romances lay beneath the 
+banter and jest of those bald bachelor diplomat friends of his? 
+Had fate reserved him for one of these?
+
+It was noon when he entered the city of Bleiberg. He went 
+directly to his hotel, where a bath and a change of clothes took 
+the stiffness from his limbs. He was in no great hurry to go to 
+the Grand Hotel; there was plenty of time. Happily there was no 
+mail for him; he was not needed in Vienna.
+
+At two o'clock he set out for the lower town. On the way he 
+picked up odd ends of news. The king was rapidly sinking; he had 
+suffered another stroke, and was now without voice. There was 
+unusual activity in the barracks. The students of the university 
+were committing mild depredations, such as building bonfires, 
+holding flambeau processions, and breaking windows which 
+contained the photographs of Prince Frederick of Carnavia, who, 
+strangely enough, was still wrapt in obscurity. When Maurice 
+entered the Grand Hotel he looked casually among the porters, 
+but the round-faced one was missing. He approached the desk. The 
+proprietor did not recognize him.
+
+"No, my friend," said Maurice, affably, as a visitors' book was 
+pushed forward, "I am not going to sign. Instead, I wish to ask 
+a favor. A week ago a party of the king's troopers met upstairs."
+
+The proprietor showed signs of returning memory, together with a 
+strange agitation.
+
+"There was a slight disturbance," went on Maurice, still using 
+the affable tone. "Herr--ah-- Hamilton, I believe--"
+
+The proprietor grew limp and yellow. "I--I do not know where he 
+is."
+
+"I do," replied Maurice. "Don't you recognize me? Have I changed 
+so since I came here to doctor a sprained ankle?"
+
+"You?--Before God, Herr, I was helpless; I had nothing to do 
+with it!" terrified at the peculiar smile of the victim.
+
+"The key to this gentleman's room," was the demand.
+
+"I--"
+
+"The key, and be quick about it."
+
+The key came forth. "You will say nothing, Herr; it would ruin 
+my business. It was a police affair."
+
+"Has any one been in this room since?"
+
+"No, Herr; the key has been in my pocket."
+
+"Where is the porter who brought me here?"
+
+"He was not a porter; he was with the police."
+
+Maurice passed up the stairs. He found the room in disorder, but 
+a disorder rather familiar to his eyes. He had been the cause of 
+most of it. Here was where he broke the baron's arm and thumped 
+three others on the head. It had been a good fight. Here was a 
+hole in the wall where one of the empty revolvers had gone--
+missing the Colonel's head by an inch.
+
+There was a smudge on the carpet made by the falling candles. He 
+saw Fitzgerald's pipe and picked it up. No; the chamber maid had 
+not yet been there. He went over to the bed, stared at it and 
+shrugged. He raised the mattress. There was the gun case. He 
+drew it forth and took out the gun, not, however, without a 
+twist of his nerves.
+
+Four millions of crowns, a woman's love, the fall of one dynasty 
+and the rise of another, all wadded in those innocent looking 
+gun barrels! He hesitated for a space, then unlocked the breech 
+and held the tubes toward the window. There was nothing in the 
+barrels, nothing but the golden sunlight, which glinted along 
+the polished steel.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+QUI M'AIME, AIME MON CHIEN
+
+On making this discovery Maurice was inclined to declaim in that 
+vigorous vocabulary which is taboo. He had been tricked. He was 
+no longer needed at the Red Chateau. Four millions in a gun 
+barrel; hoax was written all over the face of it, and yet he had 
+been as unsuspicious as a Highland gillie. Madame had tricked 
+him; the countess had tricked him, the Colonel and Fitzgerald.
+
+That Madame had tricked him created no surprise; what irritated 
+him most was the conviction that Fitzgerald was laughing in his 
+sleeve, and that he had misjudged the Englishman's capacity for 
+dissimulation. Very well. He threw the gun on the bed; he took 
+Fitzgerald's pipe from his pocket and cast it after the gun, and 
+with a gesture which placed all the contents of the room under 
+the ban of his anathema, he strode out into the corridor, thence 
+to the office.
+
+Here the message to Madame from Beauvais flashed back. The 
+Colonel of the royal cuirassiers had lied; he had found the 
+certificates. But still there was a cloud of mystery; to what 
+use could Beauvais put them? He threw the key to the landlord.
+
+"You lied to me when you said that no one had entered that room,"
+he said.
+
+"O, Herr, I told you that no one but the police had been in the 
+room since your departure. They made a search the next morning. 
+Herr Hamilton was suspected of being a spy of the duchy's. I 
+could not interfere with the police."
+
+Maurice saw that there was nothing to be got from the landlord, 
+who was as much in the dark as he. He passed into the street and 
+walked without any particular end in view. O, he would return to 
+the Red Chateau, if only to deliver himself of the picturesque 
+and opinionated address on Madame. Once he saw his reflection in 
+a window glass, and he stopped and muttered at it.
+
+"Eh, bien, as Madame herself says, we develop with crises, and 
+certainly there is one not far distant. I never could write what 
+I wish to say to Madame; I'll go back to-morrow morning."
+
+Situated between the university and the Grand Hotel on the left 
+hand side of the Konigstrasse, east, stood an historical relic 
+of the days when Austria, together with the small independent 
+states, strove to shake off the Napoleonic yoke. In those days 
+students formed secret societies; societies full of strange 
+ritual, which pushed devotion to fanaticism, which stopped at 
+nothing, not even assassination. To exterminate the French, to 
+regain their ancestral privileges, to rescue their country from 
+its prostrate humiliation, many sacrificed their lives and their 
+fortunes.
+
+Napoleon found no means of reaching these patriots, for they 
+could not be purchased. This convinced Napoleon of their 
+earnestness, for he could buy kings and princes. The students 
+were invisible, implacable, and many a brilliant officer of the 
+imperial guard disappeared, never to return.
+
+This historic relic of the Konigstrasse had been the 
+headquarters of one of the branches of these numerous societies; 
+and the students still held to those ancient traditions. But men 
+and epochs pass swiftly; only the inanimate remain. This temple 
+of patriotism is simply an inn to-day, owned by one Stuler, and 
+is designated by those who patronize it as "Old Stuler's." It is 
+the gathering place of the students. It consists of a hall and a 
+garden, the one facing the street, the other walled in at the 
+rear.
+
+The hall is made of common stone, bald and unadorned save by 
+four dingy windows and a tarnished sign, "Garten," which hangs 
+obliquely over the entrance. At the curb stands a post with 
+three lamps pendant; but these are never lit because Old Stuler 
+can keep neither wicks nor glass beyond the reach of canes.
+
+Old Stuler was well versed in the peculiarities of students. In 
+America they paint statues; in Austria they create darkness. On 
+warm, clear nights the students rioted in the garden; when it 
+rained, chairs and tables were carried into the hall, which 
+contained a small stage and a square gallery. Never a night 
+passed without its animated scene.
+
+Here it was that the evils of monarchical systems were discussed,
+the army service, the lack of proper amusement, the 
+restrictions at the stage entrance to the opera; here it was 
+that they concocted their exploits, fought their duels, and 
+planned means of outwitting Old Stuler's slate.
+
+Stuler was a good general; he could keep the students in order, 
+watch his assistants draw beer, the Rhine wine, and the scum 
+(dregs of the cask, muddy and strong), and eye the accumulating 
+accounts on the slate. This slate was wiped out once the month; 
+that is to say, when remittances came from home. The night 
+following remittances was a glorious one both to Stuler and the 
+students. There were new scars, new subjects for debate, and 
+Stuler got rid of some of his prime tokayer. The politics of the 
+students was socialism, which is to say they were always 
+dissatisfied. Tourists seldom repeated their visits to Stuler's. 
+There was too much spilling of beer in laps, dumping of pipe ash 
+into uncovered steins, and knocking off of stiff hats.
+
+It was in front of Old Stuler's that Maurice came to a pause. He 
+had heard of the place and the praise of its Hofbrau and Munich 
+beers. He entered. He found the interior dark and gloomy, though 
+outside the sun shone brilliantly. He ordered a stein of Hofbrau,
+and carried it into the main hall, which was just off the bar-
+room. It was much lighter here, though the hall had the tawdry 
+appearance of a theater in the day-time; and the motes swam 
+thickly in the beams of sunshine which entered through the half-
+closed shutters. It was only at night that Stuler's was 
+presentable.
+
+Scarcely a dozen men sat at the tables. In one corner Maurice 
+saw what appeared to be a man asleep on his arms, which were 
+extended the width of the table. It was the cosiest corner in 
+the hall, and Maurice decided to establish himself at the other 
+side of the table, despite the present incumbent. Noiselessly he 
+crossed the floor and sat down. The light was at his back, 
+leaving his face in the shadow, but shone squarely on the 
+sleeper's head.
+
+"I do not envy his headache when he wakes up," thought Maurice. 
+He had detected the vinous odor of the sleeper's breath. "These 
+headaches, while they last, are bad things. I know; I've had 'em.
+I wonder," lifting the stein and draining it, "who the duffer 
+was who said that getting drunk was fun? His name has slipped my 
+memory; no matter." He set down the stein and banged the lid.
+
+The sleeper stirred. "Rich," he murmured; "rich, rich! I'm rich! 
+A hundred thousand crowns!"
+
+"My friend, I'm not in the position to dispute with you on that 
+subject," said Maurice, smiling. He rapped the stein again.
+
+The sleeper raised his head and stared stupidly,
+
+"Rich, aye, rich!" He was still in half a dream. "Rich, I say!"
+
+"Hang it, I'm not arguing on that," Maurice laughed.
+
+The other swung upright at this, his round, oily face sodden, 
+his black eyes blinking. He threw off the stupor when he saw 
+that it was a man and not the shadow of one.
+
+"Who the devil are you?" he asked, thickly.
+
+Maurice seldom forgot a face. He recognized this one. "Oho!" he 
+said, "so it's you, eh? I did not expect to meet you. Happily I 
+had you in mind. You are not employed at present as a porter at 
+the Grand Hotel? So it is you, my messenger!"
+
+"Who are you and what are you talking about? I don't know you."
+
+"Wait a moment and I'll refresh your memory." Maurice 
+theatrically thrust a cigar between his teeth and struck a match.
+As the flame illumined his features the questioner started. "So 
+you do not recognize me, eh? You haven't the slightest 
+remembrance of Herr Hamilton and his sprained ankle, eh? Sit 
+down or I'll break your head with this stein, you police spy!" 
+dropping the bantering tone.
+
+The other sat down, but he whistled sharply; and Maurice saw the 
+dozen or so rise from the other tables and come hurriedly in his 
+direction. He pushed back his chair and rose, his teeth firmly 
+embedded in the cigar, and waited.
+
+"What's the trouble, Kopf?" demanded the newcomers.
+
+"This fellow accuses me of being a spy and threatens to break my 
+head."
+
+"O! break your head, is it? Let us see. Come, brothers; out with 
+this fellow."
+
+Maurice saw that they were about to charge him, and his hand 
+went to his hip pocket and rested on the butt of the revolver 
+which the Colonel had given him. "Gentlemen," he said, quietly, 
+"I have no discussion with you. I have a pistol in my pocket, 
+and I'm rather handy with it. I desire to talk to this man, and 
+talk to him I will. Return to your tables; the affair doesn't 
+concern you."
+
+The intended assault did not materialize. They scowled, but 
+retired a few paces. They saw the movement toward the hip pocket,
+and they noted the foreign twist of the tongue. Moreover, they 
+did not like the angle of the speaker's jaws. They shuffled, 
+looked questioningly at one another, and, as if all of a single 
+mind, went slowly back to their chairs. Kopf grew pale. Indeed, 
+his pallor was out of all proportion with the affair, which 
+Maurice took to be no more than a comedy.
+
+"Brothers," he said, huskily, "he will not dare."
+
+"Don't you doubt it for a moment," interrupted Maurice, taking 
+out the revolver and fondling it. "Any interference will mean 
+one or more cases for the hospital. Come, I'm not the police," 
+to Kopf. "I am not going to hurt you. I wish only to ask you a 
+few questions, which is my right after what has passed between 
+us. We'll go to my hotel, where we shan't be disturbed."
+
+Together they left the hall. As they passed through the bar-room 
+Stuler looked questions, but refrained from asking them. Maurice 
+put away the revolver. As they went out into the street he drew 
+Kopf's arm within his own.
+
+"What do you want?" asked Johann, savagely.
+
+"First. What is your place in this affair?"
+
+"What affair?"
+
+"The abduction."
+
+"I had nothing to do with it, Herr, on my honor. I was only a 
+porter, and I supposed my errand was in good faith."
+
+"How about the gentle push you gave me when the door opened? My 
+friend, I'm no infant. Lies will do you no good. I know 
+everything, and wish only to verify. You are a police spy, in 
+the employ of the duchess." Maurice felt the arm draw, and bore 
+down on it.
+
+"If I was, do you suppose I'd fool my time on this side of the 
+Thalians?" Johann shrugged.
+
+"I'm not sure about that," said Maurice, puffing into Johann's 
+face. "When cabinet ministers play spy, small fry like you will 
+not cavil at the occupation. And you are not in their pay?" 
+Johann glared. "I want to know," Maurice went on, "what you know;
+what you know of Colonel Beauvais, his plans, his messengers to 
+the duchy, what is taking place underneath."
+
+Johann's face cleared and a cunning light brightened his eyes. 
+"If that is all you are after, I'll tell you. I'm a spy no 
+longer; they have no more use for me, despite their promises. 
+I'll play them off for quits."
+
+"If that's all," repeated Maurice, "what did you think I wanted 
+to ask you?"
+
+Johann bit his lip. "I'm wanted badly by the chancellor, curse 
+you, if you must know. I thought he might be behind you."
+
+"Don't worry about that," said Maurice, to whom this declaration 
+seemed plausible. "We'll talk as we go along."
+
+And Johann loosened his tongue and poured into Maurice's ear a 
+tale which, being half a truth, had all the semblance of 
+straightforwardness. What he played for was time; to gain time 
+and to lull his captor's suspicions. Maurice was not familiar 
+with the lower town; Johann was. A few yards ahead there was an 
+alley he knew, and once in it he could laugh at all pursuit. It 
+might be added that if Maurice knew but little of the lower town,
+he knew still less about Johann.
+
+Suddenly, in the midst of his narrative, Johann put his leg 
+stiffly between his enemy's and gave a mighty jerk with his arm, 
+with the result that Maurice, wholly unprepared, went sprawling 
+to the pavement. He was on his feet in an instant, but Johann 
+was free and flying up the alley. Maurice gave chase, but 
+uselessly. Johann had disappeared. The alley was a cul de sac, 
+but was lined with doors; and these Maurice hammered to ease his 
+conscience. No one answered. Deeply disgusted with his lack of 
+caution, Maurice regained the street, where he brushed the dust 
+from his knees.
+
+"I'll take it out of his hide the next time we meet. He wasn't 
+worth the trouble, anyway."
+
+A sybil might have whispered in his ear that a very large fish 
+had escaped his net, but Maurice continued, conscious of nothing 
+save chagrin and a bruised knee. He resumed the piecing together 
+of events, or rather he attempted to; very few pieces could be 
+brought together. If Beauvais had the certificates, what was his 
+object in lying to Madame? What benefit would accrue to him? 
+After all, it was a labyrinth of paths which always brought him 
+up to the beginning. He drooped his shoulders dejectedly. There 
+was nothing left for him to do but return to the Red Chateau and 
+inform them of the fruitlessness of his errand. He would start 
+on the morrow. Tonight he wanted once more to hear the band, to 
+wander about the park, to row around the rear of the 
+archbishop's garden.
+
+"A fine thing to be born in purple--sometimes," he mused. "I 
+never knew till now the inconveniences of the common mold."
+
+He tramped on, building chateaux en Espagne. That they tumbled 
+down did not matter; he could rebuild in the space of a second, 
+and each castle an improvement on its predecessor.
+
+His attention was suddenly drawn away from this idle but 
+pleasant pursuit. In a side street he saw twenty or thirty 
+students surging back and forth, laughing and shouting and 
+jostling. In the center of this swaying mass canes rose and fell.
+It was a fight, and as he loved a fight, Maurice pressed his 
+hat firmly on his head and veered into the side street. He 
+looked around guiltily, and was thankful that no feminine eyes 
+were near to offer him their reproaches. He jostled among the 
+outer circle, but could see nothing. He stooped. Something white 
+flashed this way and that, accompanied by the sound of low 
+growls. A dog fight was his first impression, and he was on the 
+point of leaving, for, while he secretly enjoyed the sight of 
+two physically perfect men waging battle, he had not the heart 
+to see two brutes pitted against each other, goaded on by brutes 
+of a lower caste. But even as he turned the crowd opened and 
+closed, and the brief picture was enough for him.
+
+Her dog! And the students were beating it because they knew it 
+to be defenseless. Her dog! toothless and old, who could not 
+hold when his jaws closed on an arm or leg, but who, with that 
+indomitable courage of his race, fought on and on, hopelessly 
+and stubbornly.
+
+He was covered with blood, one of his legs was hurt, but still 
+the spirit burned. It was cowardly. Maurice's jaws assumed a 
+particularly ferocious angle. Her dog! Rage choked him. With an 
+oath he flung this student aside and that, fought his way to the 
+center. A burly student, armed with a stout cane, was the 
+principal aggressor.
+
+Maurice doubled his fist and swung a blow which had one hundred 
+and sixty pounds behind it, and it landed squarely on the cheek 
+of the student, who dropped face downward and lay still. This 
+onslaught was so sudden and unexpected that the students were 
+confounded. But Maurice, whose plans crystallized in moments 
+like these, picked up the cane and laid it about him.
+
+The students swore and yelled and stumbled over one another in 
+their wild efforts to dodge the vindictive cane. Maurice cleared 
+a wide circle. The dog, half blinded by his blood and not fully 
+comprehending this new phase in the tide of events, lunged at 
+Maurice, who nimbly eluded him. Finally the opportunity came. He 
+flung the cane into the yelling pack, with his left arm caught 
+the dog about the middle, and leaped back into the nearest 
+doorway. The muscles of his left arm were sorely tried; the dog 
+considered his part in the fray by no means ended, and he tugged 
+and yelped huskily. With his right hand Maurice sought his 
+revolver, cocked and leveled it. There came a respite. The 
+students had not fully recovered from their surprise, and the 
+yells sank into murmurs.
+
+"You curs!" said Maurice, panting. "Shame on you! and an old dog 
+that can't defend himself! You knew he had no teeth."
+
+"God save your Excellency!" laughed a student in the rear, who 
+had not tasted the cane; "you may be sure we knew he had no 
+teeth or we wouldn't have risked our precious calves. Don't let 
+him scare you with the popgun, comrades. At him, my brave ones; 
+he will be more sport than the dog! Down with the Osians, dogs, 
+followers and all!"
+
+"Come on, then," said Maurice, whose fighting blood was at heat. 
+"Come on, if you think it isn't over. There are six bullets in 
+this popgun, and I don't give a particular damn where they go. 
+Come on!"
+
+Whether or not this challenge would have been accepted remains 
+unwritten. There now came on the air the welcome sound of 
+galloping hoofs, and presently two cuirassiers wheeled into the 
+street. What Maurice had left undone with the cane the 
+cuirassiers completed with the flat of their sabers. They had 
+had a brush with the students the night before, and they went at 
+them as if determined to take both interest and principal. The 
+students dispersed like leaves in the wind--all save one. He 
+rose to his feet, his hands covering his jaw and a dazed 
+expression in his eyes. He saw Maurice with the revolver, the 
+cuirassiers with their sabers, and the remnant of his army 
+flying to cover, and he decided to follow their example. The 
+scene had changed somewhat since he last saw it. He slunk off at 
+a zigzag trot.
+
+One of the cuirassiers dismounted, his face red from his 
+exertions.
+
+"Eh?" closely scanning Maurice's white face. "Well, well! is it 
+you, Monsieur Carewe?"
+
+"Lieutenant von Mitter?" cried Maurice, dropping the dog, who by 
+now had grasped the meaning of it all. "You came just in time!"
+
+They shook hands.
+
+"I'll lay odds that you put up a good fight," the Lieutenant 
+said, pleasantly. "Curse these students! If I had my way I'd 
+coop them all up in their pest-hole of a university and blow 
+them into eternity."
+
+"And how did the dog come in this part of the town?" asked 
+Maurice, picking up his hat.
+
+"He was with her Royal Highness. This is charity afternoon. She 
+drives about giving alms to the poor, and when she enters a 
+house the dog stands at the entrance to await her return. She 
+came out of another door and forgot the dog. Max there 
+remembered him only when we were several blocks away. A dozen or 
+so of those rascally students stood opposite us when we stopped 
+here. It flashed on me in a minute why the dog did not follow us.
+And we came back at a cut, leaving her Highness with no one but 
+the groom. Max, take the dog to her Highness, and tell her that 
+it is Monsieur Carewe who is to be thanked."
+
+Maurice blushed. "Say nothing of my part in the fracas. It was 
+nothing at all."
+
+"Don't be modest, my friend," said the cuirassier, laughing, 
+while his comrade dismounted, took the dog under his arm, and 
+made off. "This is one chance in a lifetime. Her Royal Highness 
+will insist on thanking you personally. O, I know Mademoiselle's 
+caprices. And there's your hat, crushed all out of shape. Truly, 
+you are unfortunate with your headgear."
+
+"It's felt," said Maurice, slapping it against his leg. "No harm 
+done to the hat. Well, good day to you, Lieutenant, and thanks. 
+I must be off."
+
+"Nay, nay!" cried the Lieutenant. "Wait a moment. `There is a 
+tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood --' How 
+does that line go? I was educated in England and speak English 
+as I do my mother tongue--"
+
+"Won't you let me go?" asked Maurice. "Look at my clothes."
+
+"You ought to be thankful that they are dry this time. Come; 
+you'll have a good story to carry back to Vienna. Princesses do 
+not eat people."
+
+"No," said Maurice.
+
+"Ye gods, listen to that! One would think by the tone of your 
+voice that you wished they did!"
+
+There was no resisting this good humor; and Maurice wanted only 
+an excuse to wait. He sat down on the steps, sucked the knuckles 
+of his hand, and contemplated the grin on the cuirassier's face.
+
+"I like you," said the Lieutenant; "I like your sangfroid. The 
+palace is a devil of a dull place, and a new face is a positive 
+relief. I suppose you know that affairs here are bad; no honesty 
+anywhere. Everybody has his hands tied. The students know this, 
+and do as they please. Think of two hundred gendarmes in the 
+city, and an affair like this takes place without one of them 
+turning up!
+
+"I tell you frankly that it is all I can do to withhold the edge 
+of my saber when I meet those students. Last night they held a 
+noisy flambeau procession around the Hohenstaufenplatz, knowing 
+full well that the king had had another stroke and quiet was 
+necessary. They would have waked the dead. I have an idea that I 
+forgot to use the flat of my sword; at least, the hospital 
+report confirms my suspicions. Ah, here comes Max."
+
+"Her Royal Highness desires to thank Monsieur Carewe, and 
+commands that he be brought to her carriage."
+
+Lieutenant von Mitter smiled, and Maurice stood up and brushed 
+himself. The troopers sprang into the saddle and started on a 
+walk, with Maurice bringing up behind on foot. The thought of 
+meeting the princess, together with his recent exertions, 
+created havoc with his nerves. When he arrived at the royal 
+carriage, his usual coolness forsook him. He fumbled with his 
+hat, tongue-tied. He stood in the Presence.
+
+"Monsieur," said the Voice, "I thank you with all my heart for 
+your gallant service. Poor, poor dog!"
+
+"It was nothing, your Highness; any man would have done the same 
+thing." The red in the wheel-spokes bothered his eyes.
+
+"No, no! you must not belittle it."
+
+"If it had not been for Lieutenant von Mitter--"
+
+"Whither were you going, Monsieur?" interrupted the Voice.
+
+"Nowhere; that is, I was going toward my hotel."
+
+"The Continental?"
+
+"Yes, your Highness."
+
+"Step into the carriage, Monsieur;" the Voice had the ring of 
+command. "I will put you down there. It is the least that I can 
+do to show my gratitude."
+
+"I--I to ride with your Highness?" he stammered. "O, no! I--that 
+is--it would scarcely be--"
+
+"You are not afraid of me, Monsieur?" with a smile which, though 
+it had a bit of the rogue in it, was rather sad. She moved to 
+the other side of the seat and put the dog on the rug at her 
+feet. "Perhaps you are proud? Well, Monsieur, I too am proud; so 
+proud that I promise never to forgive you if you refuse to 
+gratify my wish."
+
+"I was not thinking of myself, your Highness, or rather I was. I 
+am not presentable. Look at me; my hat is out of shape, my 
+clothes dusty, and I dare say that my face needs washing."
+
+The Presence replied to this remarkable defense with laughter, 
+laughter in which Maurice detected an undercurrent of 
+bitterness.
+
+"Monsieur Carewe, you are not acquainted with affairs in 
+Bleiberg, or you would know that I am a nobody. When I pass 
+through the streets I attract little attention, I receive no 
+homage. Enter: I command it."
+
+"If your Highness commands--"
+
+"I do command it," imperiously. "And you would have pleased me 
+more fully if you had accepted the invitation and not obeyed the 
+command."
+
+"I withdraw all objections," he said hastily, "and accept the 
+invitation."
+
+"That is better," the Voice said.
+
+Maurice, still uncovered, sat down on the front seat.
+
+"Not there, Monsieur; beside me. Etiquette does not permit you 
+to ride in front of me."
+
+As he took the vacant place beside her he felt a fire in his 
+cheeks. The Voice and Presence were disquieting. As the groom 
+touched the horses, Maurice was sensible of her sleeve against 
+his, and he drew away. The Presence appeared unmindful.
+
+"And you recognize me?" she asked.
+
+"Yes, your Highness." He tried to remember what he had said to 
+her that day in the archbishop's garden. Two or three things 
+came back and the color remounted his cheeks.
+
+"Have you forgotten what you said to me?"
+
+"I dare say I was impertinent," vaguely.
+
+"Ah, you have forgotten, then!"
+
+In all his life he never felt so ill at ease. To what did she 
+refer? That he would be proud to be her friend? That if the 
+princess was as beautiful as the maid he could pass judgment?
+
+"Yes, you have forgotten. Do you not remember that you offered 
+to be my friend?" She read him through and through, his 
+embarrassment, the tell-tale color in his cheeks. She laughed, 
+and there was nothing but youth in the laughter. "Certainly you 
+are afraid of me."
+
+"I confess I am," he said. "I can not remember all I said to you."
+
+Suddenly she, too, remembered something, and it caused the red 
+of the rose to ripple from her throat to her eyes. "Poor dog! 
+Not that they hated him, but because I love him!" Tears started 
+to her eyes. "See, Monsieur Carewe; princesses are human, they 
+weep and they love. Poor dog! My playmate and my friend. But for 
+you they might have killed him. Tell me how it happened." She 
+knew, but she wanted to hear the story from his own lips.
+
+His narrative was rather disjointed, and he slipped in von 
+Mitter as many times as possible, thinking to do that individual 
+a good turn. Perhaps she noticed it, for at intervals she smiled.
+During the telling he took out his handkerchief, wiped the 
+dog's head with it, and wound it tightly about the injured leg. 
+The dog knew; he wagged his tail.
+
+How handsome and brave, she thought, as she observed the face in 
+profile. Not a day had passed during the fortnight gone that she 
+had not conjured up some feature of that intelligent countenance;
+sometimes it had been the eyes, sometimes the chin and mouth, 
+sometimes the shapely head. It was wrong; but this little sin 
+was so sweet. She had never expected to see him again. He had 
+come and gone, and she had thought that the beginning and the 
+end. Ah, if only she were not a princess! If only some hand 
+would sweep aside those insurmountable barriers called birth and 
+policy! To be free, to be the mistress of one's heart, one's 
+dreams, one's desires!
+
+"And you did it all alone," she said, softly; "all alone."
+
+"O, I had the advantage; I was not expected. It was all over 
+before they knew what had happened."
+
+"And you had the courage to take a poor dog's part? Did you know 
+whose dog it was?"
+
+"Yes, your Highness, I recognized him."
+
+A secret gladness stole into her heart, and to cover the flame 
+which again rose to her cheeks, she bent and smoothed the dog's 
+head. This gave Maurice an opportunity to look at her. What a 
+beautiful being she was! He was actually sitting beside her, 
+breathing the same air, listening to her voice. She exhaled a 
+delicate perfume such as incorporates itself in persons of high 
+degree and becomes a natural emanation, an incense vague and 
+indescribable. He felt that he was gazing on the culmination of 
+youth, beauty, and elegance. . . Yes, Fitzgerald was right. To 
+beggar one's self for love; honor and life, and all to the winds 
+if only love remained.
+
+Presently she straightened, and he centered his gaze on the back 
+of the groom.
+
+"Monsieur, place your hat upon your head," smiling. "We have 
+entered the Strasse, and I should not like to embarrass you with 
+the attention of the citizens."
+
+He put on his hat. The impulse came to tell her all that he knew 
+in regard to the kingdom's affairs; but his voice refused its 
+offices. Besides, it was too late; the carriage was rolling into 
+the Platz, and in a moment more it drew up before the terrace of 
+the Continental Hotel. Maurice stepped out and bared his head.
+
+"This evening, Monsieur, at nine, I shall expect to see you at 
+the archbishop's reception to the corps diplomatique." A hand 
+was extended toward him. He did not know what to do about it. "I 
+am offering you my hand to kiss, Monsieur Carewe; it is a 
+privilege which I do not extend to all."
+
+As he touched it to his lips, he was sure that a thousand pairs 
+of eyes were centered on him. The truth is, there were less than 
+one hundred. It was the first time in many months that the Crown 
+Princess had stopped before the Continental Hotel. To the guests 
+it was an event; and some even went as far as to whisper that 
+the handsome young man was Prince Frederick, incognito.
+
+"God save your Royal Highness," said Maurice, at loss for other 
+words. He released her hand and stepped back.
+
+"Until this evening, then, Monsieur;" and the royal barouche 
+rolled away.
+
+"Who loves me, loves my dog," said Maurice, as he sped to his 
+room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+IN WHICH FORTUNE BECOMES CARELESS AND PRODIGAL
+
+On the night prior to the arrival of Maurice in Bleiberg, there 
+happened various things of moment.
+
+At midnight the chancellor left the palace, after having 
+witnessed from a window the meeting of the cuirassiers and the 
+students, and sought his bed; but his sleep was burdened with 
+troubled dreams. The clouds, lowering over his administration, 
+thickened and darkened. How many times had he contemplated 
+resigning his office, only to put aside the thought and toil on?
+
+Defeat in the end was to be expected, but still there was ever 
+that star of hope, a possible turn in affairs which would carry 
+him on to victory. Victory is all the sweeter when it seems 
+impossible. Prince Frederick had disappeared, no one knew where, 
+the peasant girl theory could no longer be harbored, and the 
+wedding was but three days hence. The Englishman had not stepped 
+above the horizon, and the telegrams to the four ends of the 
+world returned unanswered. Thus, the chancellor stood alone; the 
+two main props were gone from under. As he tossed on his pillows 
+he pondered over the apparent reticence and indifference of the 
+archbishop.
+
+All was still in the vicinity of the palaces. Sentinels paced 
+noiselessly within the enclosures. In the royal bedchamber the 
+king was resting quietly, and near by, on a lounge, the state 
+physician dozed. The Captain of the household troop of 
+cuirassiers nodded in the ante-room.
+
+Only the archbishop remained awake. He sat in his chamber and 
+wrote. Now and then he would moisten his lips with watered wine. 
+Sometimes he held the pen in midair, and peered into the 
+shapeless shadows cast by the tapers, his broad forehead shining 
+and deep furrows between his eyes. On, on he wrote. Perhaps the 
+archbishop was composing additional pages to his memoirs, for 
+occasionally his thin lips relaxed into an impenetrable smile.
+
+There was little quiet in the lower town, especially in the 
+locality of the university. Old Stuler's was filled with smoke, 
+students and tumult. Ill feeling ran high. There were many 
+damaged heads, for the cuirassiers had not been niggard with 
+their sabers.
+
+A student walked backward and forward on the stage, waving 
+wildly with his hands to command attention. It was some time 
+before he succeeded.
+
+"Fellow-students, brothers of freedom and comrades," he began. 
+"All this must come to an end, and that at once. Our personal 
+liberty is endangered. Our rights are being trodden under foot. 
+Our ancient privileges are being laughed at. It must end." This 
+declaration was greeted by shouts, sundry clattering of pewter 
+lids and noisy rappings of earthenware on the tables. "Have we 
+no rights as students? Must we give way to a handful of beggarly 
+mercenaries? Must we submit to the outlawing of our customs and 
+observances? What! We must not parade because the king does not 
+like to be disturbed? And who are the cuirassiers?" Nobody 
+answered. Nobody was expected to answer. "They are Frenchmen of 
+hated memory--Swiss, Prussians, with Austrian officers. Are we 
+or are we not an independent state? If independent, shall we 
+stand by and see our personal liberties restricted? No! I say no!
+
+"Let us petition to oust these vampires, who not only rob us of 
+our innocent amusements, but who are fed by our taxes. What 
+right had Austria to dictate our politics? What right had she to 
+disavow the blood and give us these Osians? O, my brothers, 
+where are the days of Albrecht III of glorious memory? He 
+acknowledged our rights. He was our lawful sovereign. He 
+understood and loved us." This burst of sentiment was slightly 
+exaggerative, if the history of that monarch is to be relied on; 
+but the audience was mightily pleased with this recollection. It 
+served to add to their distemper and wrath against the Osian 
+puppet. "And where are our own soldiers, the soldiers of the 
+kingdom? Moldering away in the barracks, unnoticed and forgotten.
+For the first time in the history of the country foreigners 
+patrol the palaces. Our soldiers are nobodies. They hold no 
+office at court save that of Marshal, and his voice is naught. 
+Yet the brunt of the soldier's life falls on them. They watch at 
+the frontiers, tireless and vigilant, while the mercenaries riot 
+and play. Brothers, the time has come for us to act. The army is 
+with us, and so are the citizens. Let ours be the glory of 
+touching the match. We are brave and competent. We are drilled. 
+We lack not courage. Let us secretly arm and watch for the 
+opportunity to strike a blow for our rights. Confusion to the 
+Osians, and may the duchess soon come into her own!"
+
+He jumped from the stage, and another took his place; the 
+haranguing went on. The orators were serious and earnest; they 
+believed themselves to be patriots, pure and simple, when in 
+truth they were experiencing the same spirit of revolt as the 
+boy whose mother had whipped him for making an unnecessary noise,
+or stealing into the buttery.
+
+While the excitement was at its height, a man, somewhat older 
+than the majority of the students, entered the bar-room from the 
+street, and lounged heavily against the railing. His clothes 
+were soiled and wrinkled, blue circles shadowed his eyes, which 
+were of dull jet, the corners of his mouth drooped dejectedly, 
+and his oily face, covered with red stubble, gave evidences of a 
+prolonged debauch.
+
+"Wine, Stuler, wine!" he called, laying down a coin, which 
+gleamed dimly yellow in the opalescent light. "And none of your 
+devilish vinegars and scums."
+
+Stuler pounced on the coin and rubbed it between his palms. 
+"Gold, Johann, gold?"
+
+"Aye, gold; and the last of a pocketful, curse it! What's this 
+noise about?" with a gesture, toward the hall.
+
+"The boys were in the Platz and had a brush with those damned 
+cuirassiers. They'll play a harder game yet." Stuler always took 
+sides with the students, on business principles; they 
+constituted his purse. "Tokayer?"
+
+"No; champagne. Aye, these damned cuirassiers shall play a hard 
+game ere the week is done, or my name is not Johann Kopf. They 
+kicked me out of the palace grounds yesterday; me, me, me!" 
+hammering the oak with his fist.
+
+"Who?"
+
+"Von Mitter, the English-bred dog! I'll kill him one of these 
+days. Is it play to-night, or are they serious?" nodding again 
+toward the hall.
+
+"Go in," said Stuler, "and look at some of those heads; a look 
+will answer the purpose."
+
+Johann followed this advice. The picture he saw was one which 
+agreed with the idea that had come into his mind. He returned to 
+the bar-room. and drank his wine thirstily, refilled the glass 
+and emptied it. Stuler shook his head. Johann was in a bad way 
+when he gulped wine instead of sipping it. Yet it was always so 
+after a carouse.
+
+"Where have you been keeping yourself the past week?" he asked. 
+If the students were his purse, Johann was his budget of news.
+
+"You ask that?" surlily. "You knew I had money; you knew that I 
+was off somewhere spending it--God knows where, I don't. Another 
+bottle of wine. There's enough left from the gold to pay for it."
+
+Stuler complied. Johann's thirst seemed in no way assuaged; but 
+soon the sullen expression, the aftermath of his spree, was 
+replaced by one of reckless jollity. His eyes began to sparkle.
+
+"A great game, Stuler; they're playing a great game, and you and 
+I will be in at the reaping. The town is quiet, you say? The 
+troops have ceased murmuring, eh? A lull that comes before the 
+storm. And when it breaks--and break it will!--gay times for you 
+and me. There will be sacking. I have the list of those who lean 
+toward the Osians. There will be loot, old war dog!"
+
+Stuler smiled indulgently; Johann was beginning to feel the wine.
+Perhaps he was to learn something. "Yes, 'twill be a glorious 
+day."
+
+"A week hence, and the king goes forth a bankrupt."
+
+"If he lives," judiciously.
+
+"Dead or alive, it matters not which; he goes."
+
+"And the wedding? What is it I hear about Prince Frederick and 
+the peasant girl?"
+
+Johann laughed. "There will be no wedding."
+
+"And the princess?"
+
+"A pretty morsel, a tidbit for the king that is to be."
+
+"The king that--eh, Johann, are you getting drunk so soon?" 
+Stuler exclaimed. "I know of no king--"
+
+Johann reached over and caught the innkeeper's wrist. The grasp 
+was no gentle one. "Listen, that was a slip of the tongue. 
+Repeat it, and that for your life! Do you understand, my friend?"
+
+"Gott in--"
+
+"Do you understand?" fiercely.
+
+"Yes, yes!" Stuler wiped his face with his apron.
+
+"Good, if you understand. It was naught but a slip of the tongue,"
+nonchalantly. "In a little week, my friend, your till will 
+have no vulgar silver in it; gold, yellow gold."
+
+"And the duchess?" with hesitance. The budget of news to-night 
+was not of the usual kind.
+
+Johann did not answer, save by a shrug.
+
+The perturbation of the old man was so manifestly beyond control 
+that he could not trust his legs. He dropped on the stool, 
+giving his grizzled head a negative shake. "I would that you had 
+made no slip of the tongue, Johann," he murmured. "Gott, what is 
+going on? The princess was not to wed, to be sure, but the 
+duchess passed --a king besides--"
+
+"Silence!" enjoined Johann. "Stuler, I am about to venture on a 
+daring enterprise, which, if successful, will mean plenty of 
+gold. Come with me into your private office, where we shall not 
+be interrupted nor overheard." He vaulted the bar. Stuler looked 
+undecided. "Come!" commanded Johann. With another shake of his 
+head Stuler took down the tallow dip, unlocked the door, and 
+bade Johann pass in. He caught up another bottle and glass and 
+followed. Without a word he filled the glass and set it down 
+before Johann, who raised it and drank, his beady eyes flashing 
+over the rim of the glass and compelling the innkeeper to 
+withdraw his gaze.
+
+"Well?" said Stuler, uneasily.
+
+"I need you." Johann finished his glass with moderate slowness. 
+"Your storehouse on the lake is empty?"
+
+"Yes, but--"
+
+"I shall want it, two nights from this, in case Madame the 
+duchess does not conquer the Englishman. I shall want two 
+fellows who will ask no questions, but who will follow my 
+instructions to the letter. It is an abduction."
+
+"A nasty business," was Stuler's comment. "You have women to 
+thank for your present occupation, Johann."
+
+"Stuler, you are a fool. It is not a woman; it is a crown."
+
+"Eh?" Stuler's eyes bulged.
+
+"A crown. The duchess may remain a duchess. Who is master in 
+Bleiberg to-day? At whose word the army moves or stands? At 
+whose word the Osians fall or reign? On whom does the duchess 
+rely? Who is king in deed, if not in fact? Who will find means 
+to liquidate the kingdom's indebtedness, whoever may be the 
+creditor? Pah! the princess may marry, but the groom will not be 
+Prince Frederick. The man she will marry will be the husband of 
+a queen, and he will be a king behind a woman's skirts. It is 
+what the French call a coup d'etat. She will be glad to marry; 
+there is no alternative. She will submit, if only that her 
+father may die in peace."
+
+"And this king?" in a whisper.
+
+"You are old, Stuler; you remember many things of the past. Do 
+you recollect a prince of a noble Austrian house by the name of 
+Walmoden, once an aide to the emperor, who was cashiered from 
+the army and exiled for corresponding with France?"
+
+Stuler's hand shook as he brushed his forehead. "Yes, I 
+recollect. He fought against the Prussians in the Franco-
+Prussian war, then disappeared, to be heard of again as living 
+in a South American republic. But what has he to do with all 
+this? Ah, Johann, this is deep water."
+
+"For those who have not learned to swim. You will aid me? A 
+thousand crowns--two hundred pieces of gold like that which has 
+just passed from my pocket into yours. It is politics."
+
+"But the sacking of the town?"
+
+"A jest. If Madame the duchess conquers the Englishman, the king 
+that is to be will pay her. Then, if she wages war Austria can 
+say nothing for defending ourselves."
+
+"And Walmoden?" Stuler struck his forehead with his fist as if 
+to pound it into a state of lucidity. "Where is he? It is a 
+stone wall; I can see nothing."
+
+"Beauvais."
+
+"Beauvais!" Stuler half rose from his chair, but sank again.
+
+"Exactly. This play, for some reason unexplained, is the price 
+of his reestablishment into the graces of the noble Hapsburgs. 
+Between us, I think the prince is playing a game for himself. 
+But who shall blame him?"
+
+"The devil! I thought Austria was very favorable to the Osian 
+house."
+
+"Favorable or not, it is nothing to us."
+
+"Well, well, it's a thousand crowns," philosophically.
+
+"That's the sentiment," laughed Johann. "It is not high treason, 
+it is not lese majeste; it is not a crime; it is a thousand 
+crowns. Votre sante, as the damned French say!" swallowing what 
+was left of the wine. "And then, it is purely patriotic in us," 
+with a deceitful smile.
+
+"The storehouse is yours, and the men. Now tell me how 'tis to 
+be played."
+
+"Where does her Royal Highness go each Thursday evening, 
+accompanied by her eternal cuirassiers, von Mitter and 
+Scharfenstein?"
+
+"Where but to see her old nurse Elizabeth? But two men will not 
+be enough. Von Mitter and Scharfenstein--"
+
+"Will as usual remain at the carriage. But what's to prevent the 
+men from gaining entrance by the rear?--carrying off her 
+Highness that way, passing through the alley and making off, to 
+be a mile away before the cuirassiers even dream of the attempt?"
+
+"After all, I'd rather the duchess."
+
+"We can not all be kings and queens." Johann got up and slapped 
+Stuler familiarly on the shoulder. "Forget not the gold, the 
+yellow gold; little heaps of it to finger, to count, and to 
+spend."
+
+Stuler's eyes gleamed phosphorescently. There was the strain of 
+the ancient marauder in his veins; gold easily gotten. He opened 
+the door, and Johann passed out, swaying. The wine was taking 
+hold of him. He turned into the hall, while Stuler busied 
+himself with the spigots. Some one discovered the spy, and 
+called him by name; it was caught up by others, and there were 
+numerous calls for a speech.
+
+As a socialist Johann was well known about the lower town. 
+Besides, five years gone, he himself had been a student and a 
+brother of freedom. He had fought a dozen successful duels, and 
+finally had been expelled from the university for beating a 
+professor who had objected to his conduct in the presence of 
+ladies. Other ill reports added to his popularity. To be popular 
+in this whimsical world of ours, one has either to be very good 
+or very bad. Johann was not unwilling to speak. Stuler had given 
+him the cue; the cuirassiers. His advice was secretly to arm and 
+hold in readiness. As this was the substance of the other 
+speeches, Johann received his meed of applause.
+
+"And let us not forget the bulldog; let us kill him, too," cried 
+one of the auditors; "the prodigal bulldog, who has lived on our 
+fatted calves."
+
+This was unanimously adopted. The bulldog was not understood; 
+and he smacked of the English. Then, too, the bulldog roamed too 
+freely in the royal enclosures; and, until late years, 
+trespassers fared badly. The students considered that their 
+privileges extended everywhere; the dog, not being conversant 
+with these privileges, took that side which in law is called the 
+benefit of a doubt.
+
+After his speech Johann retired to the bar-room. What he desired 
+most of all was a replenished purse. Popular he was; but the 
+students knew his failings, among which stood prominently that 
+of a forgetful borrower. They would buy him drinks, clothes and 
+food, if need be, but they would not lend him a stiver. And he 
+could not borrow from Stuler, whose law was only to trust. 
+Johann gambled, and wine always brought back the mad fever for 
+play. The night before he had lost rather heavily, and he wanted 
+to recover his losses. Rouge-et-noir had pinched him; he would 
+be revenged on the roulette. All day long combinations and 
+numbers danced before his eyes. He had devised several plans by 
+which to raise money, but these had fallen through. Suddenly he 
+smiled, and beckoned to Stuler.
+
+"Stuler, how much will you advance me," he asked, "on a shotgun 
+worth one hundred crowns?"
+
+"A shotgun worth one hundred crowns? Ten."
+
+Johann made a negative gesture. "Fifty or none. You can sell it 
+for seventy-five in the morning. So could I, only I want the 
+money to-night."
+
+"If you want wine--" began Stuler.
+
+"I want money."
+
+Stuler scratched his nose. "Bring the gun to me. If it is worth 
+what you say, I'll see what I can do."
+
+"In an hour;" and Johann went out. A cold thin rain was falling, 
+and a dash of it in the face had a cooling effect. Somehow, the 
+exhilaration of the wine was gone, and his mood took a sullen 
+turn. Money! he was ever in need of money. He cursed his ill 
+luck. He cursed the cause of it--drink. But for drink he would 
+not have been plain Johann Kopf, brawler, outcast, spy, disowned 
+by his family and all save those who could use him. He remained 
+standing in the doorway, brooding.
+
+At last he drew his collar about his throat and struck off, a 
+black shadow in a bank of gray. When he reached that part of the 
+street opposite the Grand Hotel, he stopped and sought shelter 
+under an awning. The night patrol came clattering down the 
+street. It passed quickly, and soon all was still again. Johann 
+stepped out and peered up and down. The street was deserted. All 
+the hotel windows were in gloom, save a feeble light which 
+beamed from the office windows.
+
+Would it be robbery? He had not yet stooped to that. But he 
+could hear the ivory ball clatter as it fell into the lucky 
+numbers. He had a premonition that he would win if he stuck to a 
+single combination. He would redeem the gun, replace it, and no 
+one would be any the wiser. If his numbers failed him. . . . . 
+No matter. He determined to cross the Rubicon. He traversed the 
+street and disappeared into the cavernous alley, shortly to loom 
+up in the deserted courtyard of the hotel. He counted the 
+windows on the first floor and stopped at the fourth. That was 
+the window he must enter. Noiselessly he crept along the walls, 
+stopping now and then to listen. There was no sound except the 
+monotonous dripping of the rain, which was growing thinner and 
+colder.
+
+Presently he came across the ladder he was seeking. He raised it 
+to the required height, and once more placed his hand to his ear.
+Silence. He mounted the rounds to the window, which he found 
+unfastened. In another moment he was in the room. Not an object 
+could he see, so deep was the darkness. If he moved without 
+light he was likely to stumble, and heydey to his fifty crowns, 
+not to say his liberty for many days to come. He carefully drew 
+the blinds and struck a match. The first object which met his 
+gaze was a fallen candle. This he lit and when the glare of the 
+flame softened, all the corners of the room stood out. Nowhere 
+was there any sign of a gun. He gave vent to a half-muttered 
+curse. Some one had pilfered the gun, or the proprietor was 
+keeping it until the Englishman returned from the duchy. But he 
+remembered that there were two guns, one of which the Englishman 
+did not use in the hunting expeditions.
+
+So he began a thorough search. It meant fifty crowns, green 
+baize and the whims of fortune. Cautiously he moved between the 
+fallen chairs. He looked behind the bed, under the dresser, but 
+without success. His hand closed savagely around the candle, and 
+he swore inaudibly. He threw back the bed coverings, not that he 
+expected to find anything, but because he could vent his rage on 
+these silent, noiseless things. When he lifted the mattress it 
+was then he took a deep breath and smiled. What he saw was a gun 
+case. He drew it from under. It was heavy; his fifty crowns were 
+inside. Next he picked up a candlestick and stuffed the candle 
+into it, and laid a quilt against the threshold of the door so 
+that no light would pierce the corridor.
+
+"This is the gun the Englishman did not use in the hunting 
+expeditions," he thought. "If it is out of repair, as he said it 
+was, my fifty crowns are not so many pfennige. The devil! it 
+must be a valuable piece of gunsmithing, to hide it under the 
+bedclothes. Let me see if my crowns are for the picking."
+
+He investigated forthwith. The hammers and the triggers worked 
+smoothly. He unlocked the breech and held the nozzles toward the 
+candle light --and again cursed. The barrels were clogged up. 
+Notwithstanding, he plucked forth the cleaning-rod and forced it 
+into one of the tubes. There was a slight resistance, and 
+something fluttered to the floor and rolled about. The second 
+tube was treated likewise, with the same result. Johann laughed 
+silently. The fifty crowns were tangible; he could hear them 
+jingling in his pocket, and a pretty music they made. He 
+returned the leather case to its original place and devoted his 
+attention to the cylinder-shaped papers on the floor.
+
+For a quarter of an hour Johann remained seated on the floor, in 
+the wavering candle light, forgetful of all save the delicate 
+tracings of steel engraving, the red and green inks, the great 
+golden seal, the signatures, the immensity of the ciphers which 
+trailed halfway across each crackling parchment. He counted 
+sixteen of them in all. Four millions of crowns. . . . He was 
+rich, rich beyond all his wildest dreams.
+
+He rose, and restored the gun to its case. Fifty crowns? No, no! 
+A hundred thousand, not a crown less; a hundred thousand! all 
+thoughts of the green baize and the rattle of the roulette ball 
+passed away. There was no need to seek fortune; she had come to 
+him of her own free will. Wine, Gertrude of the opera, Paris and 
+a life of ease; all these were his. A hundred thousand crowns, a 
+hundred thousand florins, two hundred thousand francs, two 
+hundred thousand marks! He computed in all monetary 
+denominations; in all countries it was wealth.
+
+Something rose and swelled in his throat, and he choked 
+hysterically. A voice whispered "No, not a hundred thousand; 
+four millions!" But reason, though it tottered, regained its 
+balance, and he saw the utter futility of attempting to dispose 
+of the orders on the government independently. His hands 
+trembled; he could scarcely hold this vast treasure. Twice, in 
+his haste to pocket the certificates, they slipped from his 
+grasp and scattered. How those six syllables frolicked in his 
+mind! A hundred thousand crowns!
+
+He extinguished the candle and laid it on the floor, put the 
+quilt on the bed, then climbed through the window, which he 
+closed without mishap. He descended the ladder. As he reached 
+the bottom round his heart gave a great leap. From the alley 
+came the sound of approaching steps. Nearer and nearer they came;
+a shadow entered the courtyard and made straight for the door, 
+which was but a few feet from the reclining ladder. The kitchen 
+door opened and the burst of light revealed a belated serving 
+maid. A moment passed, and all became dark again. But Johann 
+felt a strange weakness in his knees, and a peculiar thrill at 
+the roots of his hair. He dared not move for three or four 
+minutes. But he waited in vain for other steps. He cursed the 
+serving maid for the fright, disposed of the ladder, and sought 
+the street. He directed his steps toward Stuler's.
+
+"The pig of an Englishman was deeper than I thought. In the gun 
+barrels, the gun barrels! If I had not wanted to play they would 
+have been there yet! A hundred thousand crowns!"
+
+It had ceased to rain, and a frost was congealing the moisture 
+under foot. On the way back to Stuler's Johann slipped and fell 
+several times; but he was impervious to pain, bruises were 
+nothing. He was rich! He laughed; and from time to time thrust 
+his hand into his vest to convince himself that he was not 
+dreaming. To whom should he sell? To the Osians? To the duchess? 
+To the king that was to be? Who would pay quickest the hundred 
+thousand crowns? He knew. Aye, two hundred thousand would not be 
+too much. The Englishman would send for the certificates, but 
+his agent would not find them. The abduction? He would carry it 
+through as he had promised. It was five thousand crowns in 
+addition to his hundred thousand. He was rich! He shook his hand 
+toward the inky sky, toward the palace, toward all that 
+signified the past . . . . . A hundred thousand crowns!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+WHAT HAPPENED AT THE ARCHBISHOP'S PALACE AND AFTER
+
+Maurice, as he labored before his mirror, wondered why in the 
+world it took him so long to dress. An hour had passed since he 
+began his evening toilet; yet here he was, still tinkering, so 
+to speak, over the last of a dozen cravats. The eleven others 
+lay strewn about, hopelessly crumpled; mute witnesses of angry 
+fingers and impassioned mutterings. Usually he could slip into 
+his evening clothes in less than thirty minutes. Something was 
+wrong. But perhaps this occasion was not usual.
+
+First, the hems of his trousers were insurgent; they persisted 
+in hitching on the tops of his button shoes. Laces were 
+substituted. Then came a desultory period, during which gold 
+buttons were exchanged for pearl and pearl for gold, and two-
+button shirts for three-button. For Maurice was something of a 
+dandy. He could not imagine what was the matter with his neck, 
+all the collars seemed so small. For once his mishaps did not 
+appeal to his humor. The ascent from his shoes to his collar was 
+as tortuous as that of the alpine Jungfrau.
+
+Ah, Madam, you may smile as much as you please, but it is a 
+terrible thing for a man to dress and at the same time think 
+kindly of his fellow-beings. You set aside three hours for your 
+toilet, and devote two hours to the little curl which droops 
+over the tip of your dainty ear; but with a man who has no curl, 
+who knows nothing of the practice of smiles and side glances, 
+the studied carelessness of a pose, it is a dismal, serious 
+business up to the last moment.
+
+With a final glance into the mirror, and convinced that if he 
+touched himself it would be only to disarrange the perfection 
+which he had striven so hard to attain, Maurice went down stairs.
+He had still an hour to while away before presenting himself at 
+the archbishop's palace. So he roamed about the verandas, 
+twirled his cane, and smoked like a captain who expects to see 
+his men in active engagement the very next moment. This, 
+together with the bad hour in his room, was an indication that 
+his nerves were finely strung.
+
+He was nervous, not because he was to see strange faces, not 
+because his interest in the kingdom's affairs was both comic and 
+tragic, nor because he was to present himself at the 
+archbishop's in a peculiar capacity, that of a prisoner on 
+parole. No, it was due to none of these. His pulse did not stir 
+at the prospect of meeting the true king. Diplomatic functions 
+were every-day events with him. He had passed several years of 
+his life in the vicinity of emperors, kings, viceroys, and 
+presidents, and their greatness had long ago ceased to interest 
+or even to amuse him. He was conscious only of an agitation 
+which had already passed through the process of analysis. He 
+loved, he loved the impossible and the unattainable, and it was 
+the exhilaration of this thought that agitated him. He never 
+would be the same again-- he would be better. Neither did he 
+regret this love.
+
+Even now he could see himself back in his rooms in Vienna, 
+smoking before the fire, and building castles that tumbled down. 
+It was worth while, if only to have something to dream about. He 
+did not regret the love, he regretted its futility. How could he 
+serve her? What could he do against all these unseen forces 
+which were crumbling her father's throne? So she remembered what 
+he had said to her in the archbishop's garden? He looked at his 
+watch. It was nine.
+
+"Let us be off," he said. He started for the Platz. "How 
+uncertain life is. It seems that I did not come to Bleiberg 
+carelessly in the way of amusement, but to work out a part of my 
+destiny." He arrested his steps at the fountain and listened to 
+the low, musical plash of the water, each drop of which fell 
+with the light of a dazzling jewel. The cold stars shone from 
+above. They were not farther away than she. A princess, a lonely 
+and forlorn princess, hemmed in by the fabric of royal laws; a 
+princess yet possessing less liberty than the meanest of her 
+peasants. Nothing belonged to her, not even her heart, which was 
+merchandise, a commodity of exchange, turned over to the highest 
+bidder. "Royalty," he mused, "is a political slave-dealer; the 
+slaves are those who wear the crowns."
+
+Once inside the palace, he became a man of the world, polished, 
+nonchalant, handsome, and mildly curious. Immediately after the 
+usher announced his name, he crossed the chamber and presented 
+his respects to the prelate, who, he reasoned not unwisely, 
+expected him. The friendly greeting of the archbishop confirmed 
+this reasoning.
+
+"I am delighted to see you, Monsieur," he said, showing his 
+remarkably well preserved teeth in the smile that followed his 
+words. "A service to her Royal Highness is a service to me. 
+Amuse yourself; you will find some fine paintings in the west 
+gallery."
+
+"I trust her Royal Highness is none the worse for the fright," 
+Maurice replied. He also remarked (mentally) that he did not see 
+her Highness anywhere. Several introductions followed, and he 
+found himself chatting with the British minister.
+
+"Carewe?" the Englishman repeated thoughtfully. "Are you not 
+Maurice Carewe, of the American Legation in Vienna?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"May I ask you a few questions?"
+
+"A thousand."
+
+"A fellow-countryman of mine has mysteriously disappeared. He 
+left Vienna for Bleiberg, saying that if nothing was heard of 
+him within a week's time, to make inquiries about him. This 
+request was left with the British ambassador, who has just 
+written me, adding that a personal friend of the gentleman in 
+question was in Bleiberg, and that this friend was Maurice 
+Carewe, attache to the American Legation. Are you acquainted 
+with Lord Fitzgerald, son of my late predecessor?"
+
+"I am indeed. I saw him in Vienna," said Maurice; "but he said 
+nothing to me about coming here," which was true enough. "Is 
+there any cause for apprehension?"
+
+"Only his request to be looked up within a certain time. The 
+truth is, he was to have come here on a peculiar errand," with 
+lowered voice. "Did you ever hear of what is called 
+'Fitzgerald's folly?'"
+
+"Yes; few haven't heard of it." Maurice could never understand 
+why he resisted the impulse to tell the whole affair. A dozen 
+words to the man at his side, and the catastrophes, even 
+embryonic, would be averted. "You must tell me who most of these 
+people are," he said, in order to get around a disagreeable 
+subject. "I am a total stranger."
+
+"With pleasure. That tall, angular old man, in the long, gray 
+frock, with decorations, is Marshal Kampf. You must meet him; he 
+is the wittiest man in Bleiberg. The gentleman with the red 
+beard is Mollendorf of the police. And beside him--yes, the 
+little man with glasses and a loose cravat--is Count von 
+Wallenstein, the minister of finance. That is the chancellor 
+talking to the archbishop. Ah, Mr. Carewe, these receptions are 
+fine comedies. The Marshal, the count and Mollendorf represent 
+what is called the Auersperg faction under the rose. It is a 
+continual battle of eyes and tongues. One smiles at his enemy, 
+knows him to be an enemy, yet dares not touch him.
+
+"Confidentially, this play has never had the like. To convict 
+his enemies of treason has been for ten years the labor of the 
+chancellor; yet, though he knows them to be in correspondence 
+with the duchess, he can find nothing on the strength of which 
+to accuse openly. It is a conspiracy which has no papers. One 
+can not take out a man's brains and say, `Here is proof!' They 
+talk, they walk on thin ice; but so fine is their craft that no 
+incautious word ever falls, nor does any one go through the ice.
+
+"I have watched the play for ten years. I should not speak to 
+you about it, only it is one of those things known to all here. 
+Those gentlemen talking to the chancellor's wife are the 
+ministers from Austria, Prussia, France, and Servia. You will 
+not find it as lively here as it is in Vienna. We meet merely to 
+watch each other," with a short laugh. "Good. The Marshal is 
+approaching."
+
+They waited.
+
+"Marshal," said the minister, "this is Monsieur Carewe, who 
+rescued her Highness's dog from the students."
+
+"Ah !" replied the Marshal, grimly. "Do not expect me to thank 
+you, Monsieur; only day before yesterday the dog snapped at my 
+legs. I am living out of pure spite, to see that dog die before 
+I do. Peace to his ashes--the sooner the better."
+
+The minister turned to Maurice and laughed.
+
+"Eh!" said the Marshal.
+
+"I prophesied that you would speak disparagingly of the dog."
+
+"What a reputation!" cried the old soldier. "I dare say that you 
+have been telling Monsieur Carewe that I am a wit. Monsieur, 
+never attempt to be witty; they will put you down for a wit, and 
+laugh at anything you say, even when you put yourself out to 
+speak the truth. If I possess any wit it is like young grapes--
+sour. You are connected in Vienna?"
+
+"With the American Legation."
+
+"Happy is the country," said the Marshal, "which is so far away 
+that Europe can find no excuse to meddle with it."
+
+"And even then Europe would not dare," Maurice replied, with 
+impertinence aforethought.
+
+"That is not a diplomatic speech."
+
+"It is true."
+
+"I like your frankness."
+
+"Let that go toward making amends for saving the dog."
+
+"Are all American diplomats so frank?" inquired the Marshal, 
+with an air of feigned wonder.
+
+"Indeed, no," answered Maurice. "Just at present I am not in a 
+diplomatic capacity; I need not look askance at truth. And there 
+is no reason why we should not always be truthful."
+
+"You are wrong. It's truth's infrequency which makes her so 
+charming and refreshing. However, I thank you for your services 
+to her Highness; your services to her dog I shall try to forget."
+And with this the Marshal moved away, shaking his head as if 
+he had inadvertently stumbled on an intricate problem.
+
+Not long after, Maurice was left to his own devices. He viewed 
+the scene, silent and curious. Conversation was carried on in 
+low tones, and laughter was infrequent and subdued. The women 
+dressed without ostentation. There were no fair arms and necks. 
+Indeed, these belong wholly to youth, and youth was not a factor 
+at the archbishop's receptions. Most of the men were old and 
+bald, and only the wives of the French and British ministers 
+were pretty or young. How different from Vienna, where youth and 
+beauty abound! There were no music, no long tables of 
+refreshments, no sparkling wines, no smoking-room, good stories 
+and better fellowship. There was an absence of the flash of 
+jewels and color which make court life attractive.
+
+There seemed to be hanging in the air some invisible power, the 
+forecast of a tragedy, the beginning of an unknown end. And yet 
+the prelate smiled on enemies and friends alike. As Maurice 
+observed that smile he grew perplexed. It was a smile such as he 
+had seen on the faces of men who, about to die, felt the grim 
+satisfaction of having an enemy for company. The king lay on his 
+death bed, in all probabilities the throne tottered; yet the 
+archbishop smiled.
+
+The princess did not know that her father was dying; this was a 
+secret which had not yet been divulged to her. And this was the 
+only society she knew. Small wonder that she was sad and lonely. 
+To be young, and to find one's self surrounded by the relics of 
+youth; what an existence! She had never known the beauty of a 
+glittering ballroom, felt the music of a waltz mingle with the 
+quick throbs of the heart, the pleasure of bestowing pleasure. 
+She had never read the mute yet intelligent admiration in a 
+young man's eyes. And what young woman does not yearn for the 
+honest adoration of an honest man? Poor, lonely princess indeed. 
+For, loving the world as he himself did, Maurice understood what 
+was slipping past her. Every moment the roots of love were 
+sinking deeper into his heart and twining firmly about, as a 
+vine to a trellis.
+
+Is there a mental telegraphy, an indefinable substance which is 
+affected by the close proximity of a presence, which, while we 
+do not see, we feel? Perhaps; at any rate, Maurice suddenly 
+became aware of that peculiar yet now familiar agitation of his 
+nerves. Instinctively he turned his head. In the doorway which 
+separated the chamber from the conservatory stood her Royal 
+Highness. She was dressed entirely in black, which accentuated 
+the whiteness--the Carrara marble whiteness--of her exquisite 
+skin. In the dark, shining coils swept back from her brow lay 
+the subtle snare of a red rose. There was no other color except 
+on the full lips. She saw Maurice, but she was so far away that 
+the faint reflection of the rose on her cheeks was gone before 
+he reached her side.
+
+"I was afraid," she said, lowering her eyes as she uttered the 
+fib, "that you would not come after all."
+
+"It would have been impossible for me to stay away," he replied, 
+his eyes ardent. The princess looked away. "And may I ask after 
+the health of the dog?"
+
+"Thanks to you, Monsieur; he is getting along finely. Poor dog; 
+he will always limp. What is it that makes men inflict injuries 
+on dumb creatures?"
+
+"It is the beast that is envious of the brute."
+
+"And your hand?" with a glance sympathetic and inquiring.
+
+"My hand?"
+
+"Yes; did you not injure it?"
+
+"O!"	He laughed and held out two gloved hands for her inspection.
+"That was only a scratch. In fact, I do not remember which hand 
+it was."
+
+"You are very modest. I should have made much of it."
+
+He could not translate this; so he said: "There was nothing 
+injured but my hat. I seem unfortunate in that direction."
+
+She smiled, recalling the incident in the archbishop's garden.
+
+"I shall keep the hat, however," he said, "as a souvenir."
+
+"Souvenirs, Monsieur," she replied carelessly, "and old age are 
+synonymous. You and I ought not to have any souvenirs. Have you 
+seen the picture gallery? No? Then I shall have the pleasure of 
+showing it to you. Monseigneur is very proud of his gallery. He 
+has a Leonardo, a Botticelli, a Murillo, and a Rembrandt. And 
+they really show better in artificial light, which softens the 
+effect of time."
+
+Half an hour was passed in the gallery. It was very pleasant to 
+listen to her voice as she described this and that painting, and 
+the archbishop's adventures in securing them. It did not seem 
+possible to him that she was a princess, perhaps destined to 
+become a queen, so free was she from the attributes of royalty, 
+so natural and ingenuous. He caught each movement of her 
+delicate head, each gesture of her hand, the countless 
+inflections of her voice, the lights which burned or died away 
+in the dark wine of her eyes.
+
+Poor devil! he mused, himself in mind; poor fool! He forgot the 
+world, he forgot that he was a prisoner on parole, he forgot the 
+strife between the kingdom and the duchy, he forgot everything 
+but the wild impossible love which filled his senses. He forgot 
+even Prince Frederick of Carnavia.
+
+In truth, the world was "a sorry scheme of things." It was 
+grotesque with inequalities. He had no right to love her; it was 
+wrong to give in to the impulses of the heart, the natural, 
+human impulses. A man can beat down the stone walls of a fort, 
+scale the impregnable heights of a citadel, master the earth and 
+the seas, but he can not surmount the invisible barriers which 
+he himself erected in the past ages--the quality of birth. Ah! 
+if only she had been a peasant, unlettered and unknown, and free 
+to be won! The tasks of Hercules were then but play to him!
+
+Next she led him through the aisles of potted plants in the 
+conservatory. She was very learned. She explained the origin of 
+each flower, its native soil, the time and manner of its 
+transportation. Perhaps she was surprised at his lack of 
+botanical knowledge, he asked so many questions. But it was not 
+the flowers, it was her voice, which urged him to these 
+interrogations.
+
+They were on the point of re-entering the reception chamber, 
+when the jingle of a spur on the mosaic floor caused them to 
+turn. Maurice could not control the start; he had forgotten all 
+about Beauvais. The soldier wore the regulation full dress of 
+the cuirassiers, white trousers, tucked into patent leather half-
+boots, a gray jacket with gold lace and decorations, red saber 
+straps and a gray pelisse hanging from the left shoulder. A 
+splendid soldier, Maurice grudgingly admitted. What would the 
+Colonel say? The situation was humorous rather than otherwise, 
+and Maurice smiled.
+
+"I was looking for your Highness," said Beauvais, as he came up, 
+"to pay my respects. I am leaving." His glance at Maurice was 
+one of polite curiosity.
+
+"Colonel Beauvais," said the princess, coldly, "Monsieur Carewe, 
+of the American Legation in Vienna."
+
+She was not looking at the Colonel, but Maurice was, and the 
+Colonel's total lack of surprise astonished him. The gaze of the 
+two men plunged into each other's eyes like flashes of lightning,
+but that was all.
+
+"I am charmed," said the Colonel, a half-ironical smile under 
+his mustache. "Your name is not unfamiliar to me."
+
+"No?" said Maurice, with studied politeness.
+
+"No. It is connected with an exploit. Was it not you who faced 
+the students this afternoon and rescued her Highness's dog?"
+
+"Ah!" said Maurice, in a tone which implied that exploits were 
+every day events with him; "it was but a simple thing to do. The 
+students were like so many sheep."
+
+The princess elevated her brows; she felt an undercurrent of 
+something which she did not understand. Indeed, she did not like 
+the manner in which the two men eyed each other. Her glance 
+passed from the stalwart soldier to the slim, athletic form of 
+the civilian.
+
+Conversation drifted aimlessly. Maurice had the malice to cast 
+the brunt of it on the Colonel's shoulders. The princess, like a 
+rose coming in contact with a chill air, drew within herself. 
+She was cold, brief, and serenely indifferent. It was evident to 
+Maurice that she had resumed her royal mantle, and that she had 
+shown him unusual consideration.
+
+Presently she raised her hand to her head, as sometimes one will 
+do unconsciously, and the rose slipped from her hair and dropped 
+to the floor. Both men stooped. Maurice was quickest. With a bow 
+he offered to return it.
+
+"You may keep it, Monsieur;" and she laughed.
+
+They joined her. Maurice knew why the Colonel laughed, and the 
+Colonel knew why Maurice laughed; but neither could account for 
+the laughter of the princess. That was her secret.
+
+All things come to an end, even diplomatic receptions. Soon the 
+guests began to leave.
+
+Said the princess to Maurice: "Your invitation is a standing one,
+Monsieur. To our friends there are no formalities. Good night; 
+ah, yes, the English fashion," extending her hand, which Maurice 
+barely touched. "Good night, Monsieur," to Beauvais, with one of 
+those nods which wither as effectually as frost.
+
+The Colonel bent gracefully.
+
+"Decidedly the Colonel is not in high favor tonight," thought 
+Maurice; "a fact which is eminently satisfactory to me. Ah; he 
+looks as if he had something to say to me. Let us wait."
+
+"Monsieur, have you any other engagement this evening?" asked 
+Beauvais, swinging his pelisse over both shoulders. "If not, my 
+rooms are quite handy. I have capital cigars and cognacs. Will 
+you do me the honor? I should like to have you regale me with 
+some Vienna gossip; it is so long since I was there."
+
+"Thanks," said Maurice. "I shall be happy to smoke your cigars 
+and drink your cognacs." He was in the mood for any adventure, 
+comic or serious. He had an idea what the Colonel wanted to say 
+to him, and he was not unwilling to listen. Besides, he had no 
+fear; he now wore an amulet close to his heart.
+
+"Come, then," said Beauvais, gaily; and the two made off. "It is 
+a wonderful game of chess, this world of ours."
+
+"Yes," said Maurice, "we do keep moving."
+
+"And every now and then one or the other of us steps out into 
+the dark."
+
+"So we do." Maurice glanced from the corner of his eye and 
+calculated his chances in a physical contest with the Colonel. 
+The soldier was taller and broader, but it was possible for him 
+to make good this deficiency with quickness. But, above all, 
+where and under what circumstances had he met this man before?
+
+"Here we are!" cried the Colonel, presently.
+
+He led Maurice into one of the handsome dwellings which faced 
+the palace confines from the east. They passed up the stairs 
+into a large room, Oriental in its appointments, and evidently 
+the living room. The walls were hung with the paraphernalia of a 
+soldier, together with portraits of opera singers, horses and 
+celebrities of all classes. On the mantel Maurice saw, among 
+other things, the glint of a revolver barrel. He thought nothing 
+of it then. It occurred to him as singular, however, that the 
+room was free from central obstruction. Had the Colonel expected 
+to meet him at the archbishop's and anticipated his acceptance 
+of a possible invitation?
+
+Two chairs stood on either side of the grate. Between them was 
+an octagon on which were cigars, glasses and two cognac bottles. 
+The Colonel's valet came in and lit the tapers in the chandelier 
+and woke up the fire. . . . Maurice was convinced that the 
+Colonel had arranged the room thus for his especial benefit, and 
+he regretted his eagerness for adventure.
+
+"Francois," said Beauvais, throwing his shako and pelisse on the 
+lounge and motioning to Maurice to do likewise, "let no one 
+disturb us."
+
+The valet bowed and noiselessly retired. The two men sat down 
+without speaking. Beauvais passed the cigars. Maurice selected 
+one, lit it, and blew rings at the Chinese mandarin which leered 
+down at him from the mantel.
+
+Several minutes marched into the past.
+
+"Maurice Carewe," said the Colonel, as one who mused.
+
+"It is very droll," said Maurice.
+
+"I can not say that it strikes me as droll, though I am not 
+deficient in the sense of humor."
+
+"'Twould be a pity if you were; you would miss so much. Through 
+humor philosophy reaches its culmination; humor is the 
+foundation upon which the palace of reason erects itself. The 
+two are inseparable."
+
+"How came you to be mixed up in this affair, which is no concern 
+of yours?"
+
+"That question is respectfully referred to Madame the duchess. I 
+was thrown into it, head foremost, bound hand and foot. It was a 
+clever stroke, though eventually it will embarrass her."
+
+"You may give me the certificates," said Beauvais.
+
+Maurice contemplated him serenely. "Impossible," with a fillip 
+at the end of his cigar.
+
+"You refuse?" coldly.
+
+"I do not refuse. Simply, I haven't got them."
+
+"What!" The Colonel half sprang from his chair.
+
+His astonishment was genuine; Maurice saw that it was, and he 
+reflected. Madame nor Fitzgerald had been dishonest with him.
+
+"No. Some one has forestalled me."
+
+"Are you lying to me?" menacingly.
+
+"And if I were?" coolly.
+
+Beauvais measured his antagonist, his eyes hard and contemptuous.
+
+"I repeat," said Maurice, "the situation is exceedingly droll. I 
+am not afraid of you, not a bit. I am not a man to be 
+intimidated. You might have inferred as much by my willingness 
+to accompany you here. I am alone with you."
+
+"It is true that you are alone with me," in a voice, which, 
+though it did not alarm Maurice, caused him to rest less 
+comfortably in his chair. "In the first place, you know too much."
+
+"The knowledge was not of my own seeking. You will agree with me 
+in that." He took a swallow of the cognac. "However, since I am 
+in the affair--"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"I'll see it to its end."
+
+"Perhaps. We shall not cross purposes. When men plot as I do, 
+they stop at nothing, not even at that infinitesimal minutiae 
+called the spark of life. It becomes a matter of self-
+preservation. I am in too deep water; I must keep on. I can not 
+now turn back; the first shore is too far away."
+
+"Even villainy has its inconveniences," Maurice observed.
+
+"What do you call villainy?"
+
+"An act in which a man accepts pay from one to ruin him for 
+another. That is villainy, without a single saving grace, for 
+you are a native neither of the kingdom nor the duchy."
+
+"That is plain language. You do not take into consideration the 
+villain's motives. There may be certain ends necessary as his 
+life's blood, which may be gained only by villainy, which, after 
+all, is a hard name for political conspiracy."
+
+"Oh, I do not suppose you are worse than the majority. But it 
+appeals to me as rather a small, unmanly game when your victims 
+are a man who is dying and a girl who knows nothing of the world 
+nor its treachery."
+
+An almost imperceptible smile passed over Beauvais's countenance.
+"So her Highness has captured your sympathies?" with a shade of 
+banter.
+
+"I admit that; she would capture the sympathies of any man who 
+has a good pair of eyes in his head. But you do not seem to be 
+in favor just at present," banter for banter.
+
+The Colonel studied the end of his cigar. "What is to be your 
+stand in this affair?"
+
+"Neutral as possible, for the simple reason that I have passed 
+my word to Madame; compulsorily, it is true; I shall abide by it.
+That is not to say that my sympathies are not wholly with the 
+Osians. Madame is a brilliant woman, resourceful, initiative; 
+she has as many sides as a cut diamond; moreover, her cause is 
+just. But I do not like the way she has gone about the recovery 
+of her throne. She has broken, or will break, a fine honest 
+heart; she tried to break another, but, not being above the 
+pantry maid, the subject of her attention failed to appreciate 
+the consideration."
+
+Beauvais laughed at this. "You are very good company. Let me 
+advise you to remain neutral. I wish you no harm. But if you 
+change your mind and stand in my path--"
+
+"Well, and if I stood in your path?"
+
+"Pouf! you would vanish. O, I should not stoop to murder; that 
+is a vulgar word and practice. I should place a sword in your 
+hand and give you the preference of a gentleman's death. I see 
+nothing to prevent me from carrying out that this very night," 
+with a nod toward the rapiers which hung from the opposite wall.
+
+"You might be surprised at the result," said Maurice, stretching 
+his legs. "But at present I have no desire to quarrel with you, 
+or to put your skill to a test. Once Madame gives me back my 
+word, why, I do not say." He dipped his hand toward the ash-pan. 
+"Human nature is full of freaks. A man will commit all sorts of 
+crimes, yet stand by his word. Not that I have committed any 
+crimes against the ten commandments."
+
+And so they fenced.
+
+"You picked up a rose to-night," said the Colonel.
+
+"So I did." Maurice blew a puff of smoke into the chimneyplace 
+and watched it sail upward and vanish. "Moreover, I propose to 
+keep it. Have you any objections?"
+
+"Only this: her Highness intended the rose for me."
+
+"No, no, my friend," easily. "She would not have laughed had you 
+picked it up."
+
+"That is to say I lie?"
+
+"It is," laconically.
+
+There was no eluding a statement so bald as this. Beauvais sat 
+upright. "To call me a liar is a privilege which I extend to no
+man."
+
+"I did not call you a liar," undisturbed. "You wrote it down
+yourself, and I simply agreed to it. A duel? Well, I shall not
+fight you. Dueling is obsolete, and it never demonstrated the
+right or wrong of a cause. Since my part in this affair is one of
+neutrality, and since to gain that knowledge was the object of
+your invitation, I will take my leave of you."
+
+He rose and looked at the porcelain clock. As he did so his gaze
+rested on a small photograph standing at the side of it. He
+scanned it eagerly. It was a face of dark Castilian beauty. He
+turned and looked at Beauvais long and earnestly. There was an
+answering gaze, an immobility of countenance. Maurice experienced
+a slight shock. The haze over his memory was dispersed. The whole
+scene, in which this man loomed in the foreground, came back
+vividly.
+
+"Your stare, Monsieur, is annoying."
+
+"I shouldn't wonder," replied Maurice, leaning against the
+mantel. 
+
+"Do me the honor to explain it."
+
+Maurice, never dreaming of the trap, fell head foremost into it.
+"I have traveled a good deal," he began. "I have been--even to
+South America."
+
+"Ah!" This ejaculation expressed nothing. In fact, Beavais was 
+smiling. There was a sinister something behind that smile, but 
+Maurice was unobservant.
+
+He went on. "Yes, to South America. I was there in a diplomatic
+capacity, during one of the many revolutions. This country was
+the paradise of adventurers, the riff-raff of continental social
+outcasts. I distinctly remember the leader of this revolution. Up
+to the very last day, Captain Urquijo was the confidential friend
+of the president whom he was about to ruin. Through the
+president's beautiful daughter Urquijo picked up his threads and
+laid his powder train. The woman loved him as women sometimes
+love rascals. The president was to be assassinated and his rival
+installed. Captain Urquijo was to be made General of the armies.
+
+"One fine day the troops lined both sides of the plaza, the
+square also about which lay the government buildings. It was the
+event of some celebration; I believe the throwning off of the
+yoke of Spain. The city flocked into the plaza. Strangely enough,
+those who were disaffected--the soldiers under Urquijo--faced the
+loyal troops. By a preconceived plan, the artillery was under the
+command of Urquijo. Suddenly this Captain's murderous and
+traitorous guns swept the plaza, mangling women and children.
+There was a flaw, however, in the stroke. Urquijo fled, a reward
+posted for his head--mind you, his head; they did not want him
+alive.
+
+"The daughter expiates her foolish love in a convent. Her
+disgraces proved too much for her father, who blew out his
+brains. The successor secured extradition papers in all the
+leading capitals of the world. The story was the sensation of the
+day; the newspapers made much of it. All governments offered to
+assist the republic in hounding down this rascal. To whatever
+country he belonged, that country promised to disown him."  _ .
+
+Maurice took the photograph. and cast it into Beauvais's lap. "Do
+you recognize that face? Is it not a mute accusation to your
+warped conscience?" The voice, changing from the monotone of
+narrative, grew strong and contemptuous. "I know you. I
+recognizcd you the moment I laid eyes on you, only I could not
+place you. Perhaps it was because it did not seem possible that
+you would dare show your face to civilized people. That
+photograph has done its work. By the Lord, but you're a fine
+rascal! Not a bit changed. Have you forgotten your Spanish? As
+God hears me, I shall hold you up."
+
+"You are a very young man," said Beauvais, rising. He was still
+smiling. "Do you know why I asked you here? For this very reason.
+Madame divined you well. She said that you had a dash of what
+romanticists call valor, but that you never saw an inch before
+your nose. I knew that you would be at the archbishop's; I knew
+that you would follow me to this room. Indeed, you might have
+suspected as much by the unusual arrangement of the fixtures of
+the room. I placed that photograph there, trusting to your rather
+acute eyesight.
+
+"My memory seems to be better than yours. I knew you the first
+time I saw you in Bleiborg. I was waiting only to see how much
+you had remembered. I am not Colonel Beauvais; I am not
+Urquijo; I am the last of a noble Austrian house, in exile, but
+on the eve of recall. Your knowledge would, of course, be
+disastrous to my ambitions. That is why I wanted to find out how
+much you know. You know too much, too much by half; and since you
+have walked into the lion's den, you shall never leave it alive."
+With this he sprang to the wall and tore down the rapiers, one of
+which he flung at Maurice's feet.
+
+Maurice felt the hand of paralysis on his nerves. He looked at 
+the rapier, then at Beauvais, dazed and incapable of movement. 
+It had been so sudden.
+
+"And when they find you in some alley in the lower town they will
+put it down to thieves. You are young and thoughtless," Beauvais
+went on banteringly. "A little discretion and you might have gone
+with a whole skin. We never forget a woman's face, and I knew
+that you would not forget hers. Don't trouble yourself about
+leaping through the windows; the fall will kill you less
+effectually than I shall." 
+
+Maurice pulled himself together. The prospect of death brought
+back lucidity of mind. He at once saw the hopelessness of his
+position. He cursed his lack of forethought. He became pale and
+furious, but his head cleared. His life hung in the balance. He
+now translated Beauvais's smile. 
+
+"So you wish to add another to the list?" he said.
+
+"To shield one crime, a man must commit many others. O, this will
+not be murder. It will be a duel, in which you will have no
+chance. Pick up the sword, if only for form's sake." Beauvais
+caught the wrist thong of the rapier between his teeth and
+rapidly divested himself of his jacket and saber straps. With his
+back toward the door, he rolled up his sleeve and discovered a
+formidable forearm. He tried the blade and thrust several times
+into the air.
+
+"What promise have I," said Maurice, "that you will not run me
+through when I stoop for the sword?" This question did not serve.
+
+Beauvais laughed. "I never get angry in moments like these. I am
+giving you a sword to ease my conscience. I do not assassinate
+boys."
+
+"But supposing I should kill you by chance?"
+
+Beauvais laughed again. "That is not possible."
+
+Maurice had faced death before, but with more confidence. The
+thought that he had poked his head into a trap stirred him
+disagreeably. He saw that Beauvais possessed a superabundance of
+confidence, and confidence is half of any battle. He picked up
+the sword and held it between his knees, while he threw off his
+coat and vest, and unbuttoned his collar and cuffs. What he had
+to sell would be sold as dearly as possible. He tested the blade,
+took in a deep breath, fell easily into position--and waited.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+
+SOME PASSAGES AT ARMS
+
+There comes a moment to every man, who faces an imminent danger,
+when the mental vision expands and he sees beyond. By this
+transient gift of prescience he knows what the end will be,
+whether he is to live or die. As Maurice looked into the
+merciless eyes of his enemy, a dim knowledge came to him that
+this was to be an event and not a catastrophe, a fragment of a
+picture yet to be fully drawn. His confidence and courage
+returned. He thanked God, however, that the light above equalized
+their positions, and that the shadows were behind them.
+
+The swords came together with a click light but ominous.
+Immediately Beauvais stepped back, suddenly threw forward his
+body, and delivered three rapid thrusts. Maurice met them firmly,
+giving none.
+
+"Ah!" cried Beauvais; "that is good. You know a little. There
+will be sport, besides."
+
+Maurice shut his lips the tighter, and worked purely on the
+defensive. His fencing master had taught him two things, silence
+and watchfulness. While Beauvais made use of his forearm, Maurice
+as yet depended solely on his wrist. Once they came together, 
+guard to guard, neither daring to break away until by mutual
+agreement, spoken only by the eyes, both leaped backward out of
+reach. There was no sound save the quick light stamp of feet and
+the angry murmur of steel scraping against steel. Sometimes they 
+moved circlewise, with free blades, waiting and watching. Up 
+to now Beauvais's play had been by the book, so to speak, and 
+he began to see that his opponent was well read.
+
+"Which side is the pretty rose?" seeking to distract Maurice.
+"Tell me, and I will pin it to you."
+
+Not a muscle moved in Maurice's face.
+
+"It is too, bad," went on Beauvais, "that her Highness finds a
+lover only to lose him. You fool! I read your eyes when you
+picked up that rose. Princesses are not for such as you. I will
+find her a lover, it will be neither you nor Prince
+Frederick--ah! you caught that nicely. But you depend too much on
+the wrist. Presently it will tire; and then--pouf!"
+
+Now and then a a flame, darting from the grate, sparkled on the
+polished steel, and from the steel it shot into the watchful
+eyes. A quarter of an hour passed; still Maurice remained on the
+defensive. At first Beauvais misunderstood the reason, and
+thought Maurice did not dare run the risk of passing from
+defensive to offensive. But by and by the froth of impatience
+crept into his veins. He could not penetrate above or below that
+defense. The man before him was of marble, with a wrist of iron;
+he neither smiled nor spoke, there was no sign of life at all,
+except in the agile legs, the wrist, and eyes. The Colonel
+decided to change his tactics.
+
+"When I have killed you," he said, "I shall search your pockets,
+for I know that you lie when you say that you have not those
+certificates. Madame was a fool to send you. No man lives who may
+be trusted. And what is your game? Save the Osians? Small good it
+will do you. Her Highness will wed Prince Frederick--mayhap--and
+all you will get is cold thanks. And in such an event, have you
+reckoned on Madame the duchess? War! And who will win? Madame;
+for she has not only her own army, but mine. Come, come! Speak,
+for when you leave this room your voice will be silent. Make use
+of the gift, since it is about to leave you."
+ 
+The reply was a sudden straightening of the arm. The blade
+slipped in between the Colonel's forearm and body, and was out
+again before the soldier fully comprehended what had happened.
+Maurice permitted a cold smile to soften the rigidity of his
+face. Beauvais saw the smile, and read it. The thrust had been
+rendered harmless intentionally. An inch nearer, and he had been
+a dead man. To accomplish such a delicate piece of sword play
+required nothing short of mastery. Beauvais experienced a
+disagreeable chill, which was not unmixed with chagrin. The boy
+had held his life in his hand, and had spared it. He set his
+teeth, and let loose with a fury before which nothing could
+stand; and Maurice was forced back step by step until he was
+almost up with the wall.
+
+"You damned fool!" the Colonel snarled, "you'll never get that
+chance again."
+
+For the next few minutes it took all the splendid defense Maurice
+possessed to keep the spark in his body. The Colonel's sword was
+no longer a sword, it was a flame; which circled, darted, hissed
+and writhed. Twice Maurice felt the bite of it, once in the arm
+and again in the thigh. These were not deep, but they told him
+that the end was but a short way off. He had no match for this
+brilliant assault. Something must be done, and that at once. He
+did not desire the Colonel's death, and the possibility of
+accomplishing this was now extremely doubtful. But he wanted to
+live. Life was just beginning--the rough road had been left
+behind. He was choosing between his life and the Colonel's.
+Beauvais, after the fashion of the old masters, was playing for
+the throat. This upward thrusting, when continuous, is difficult
+to meet, and Maurice saw that sooner or later the blade would
+reach home. If not sudden death, it meant speechlessness, and
+death as a finality. Then the voice of his guardian angel spoke. 
+
+"I do not wish your life," he said, breaking the silence, "but at
+the same time I wish to live--ah!" Maurice leaped back just in
+time. As it was, the point of his enemy's blade scratched his
+chin.
+
+They broke and circled. The Colonel feinted. Maurice, with his
+elbow against his side and his forearm extended, waited. Again
+the Colonel lunged for the throat. This time, instead of meeting
+it in tierce, Maurice threw his whole force forward in such a
+manner as to bring the steel guard of his rapier full on the
+Colonel's point. There was a ringing sound of snapping steel, and
+the Colonel stood with nothing but a stump in his grasp.
+
+"There you are," said Maurice, a heat-flash passing over him. Had
+he swerved a hair's breadth from the line, time would have tacked
+finis to the tale. "Now, I am perfectly willing to talk," putting
+his point to the Colonel's breast. "It would inconvenience me to
+kill you, but do not count too much on that."
+
+"Damn you!" cried the Colonel, giving way, his face yellow with
+rage, chagrin and fear. "Kill me, for I swear to God that one or
+the other of us must die! Damn you and your meddling nose!" 
+
+"Damn away, chevalier d'industrie; damn away. But live, live,
+live! That will be the keenest punishment. Live! O, my brave
+killer of boys, you thought to play with me as a cat with a
+mouse, eh? Eh, Captain Urquijo-Beauvais-and-What-is-your-name?"
+He pressed the point here, there, everywhere. "You were too
+confident. Pardon me if I appear to brag, but I have taken
+lessons of the best fencing masters in Europe, and three times,
+while you devoted your talents to monologues, I could have pinned
+you like one of those butterflies on the wall there. Have you
+ever heard of the sword of Damocles? Well, well; it hangs over
+many a head to-day. I will be yours. I give you forty-eight hours
+to arrange your personal affairs. If after that time you are
+still in this part of the country, I shall inform the proper
+authorities in Vienna. The republic has representation there. Of
+a noble Austrian house, on the eve of recall? I think not."
+
+Beauvais made a desperate attempt to clutch the blade in his
+hands.
+
+"No, no!" laughed Maurice, making rapid prods which caused
+Beauvais to wince. "Now, back; farther, farther. I do not like
+the idea of having my back to the door."
+
+Beauvais suddenly wheeled and dashed for the mantel. But as he 
+endeavored to lay hand on the revolver Maurice brought down 
+the blade on the Colonel's knuckles, leaving a livid welt. 
+Maurice took possession of the weapon, while a grimace of 
+agony shot over the Colonel's face. Seeing that the chambers 
+were loaded, Maurice threw down the sword.
+
+"Well, well!" he said, cocking the weapon. "And I saw it when I
+entered the room. It would have saved a good deal of trouble."
+Beauvais grew white. "O," Maurice continued, "I am not going to
+shoot you. I wish merely to call your valet." He aimed at the
+grate and pressed the trigger, and the report, vibrating within
+the four walls, was deafening.
+
+A moment passed, and the valet, with bulging eyes and 
+blanched face, peered in. Seeing how matters stood, he made as 
+though to retreat.
+
+Maurice leveled the smoking revolver. "Come in, Francois; your
+master will have need of you."
+
+Francois complied, vertigo in his limbs. "My God!" he cried,
+wringing his hands.
+
+"Your master tried to murder me," said Maurice. Francois had
+heard voices like this before, and it conveyed to him that a fine
+quality of anger lay close to the surface. "Take down yonder
+window curtain cord." Francois did so. "Now bind your master's
+hands with it."
+
+"Francois," cried the Colonel, "if you so much as lay a finger on
+me, I'll kill you."
+
+"Francois, I will kill you if you don't," said Maurice.
+
+"My God!" wailed the valet at loss which to obey when to obey
+either meant death. His teeth chattered.
+
+"You may have all the time you want, Francois, to wring your
+hands when I am gone. Come; to work. Colonel, submit. I'm in a
+hurry and have no time to spare. While I do not desire to kill
+you, self-preservation will force me to put a bullet into your
+hide, which will make you an inmate of the city hospital. Bind
+his hands behind his back, and no more nonsense."
+
+"Monsieur," appealingly to Beauvais, "my God, I am forced. He
+will kill me!"
+
+"So will I," grimly; "by God, I will!" Beauvais had a plan. If he
+could keep Maurice long enough, help might arrive. And he had an
+excellent story to tell. Still Francois doddered. With his eye on
+the Colonel and the revolver sighted, Maurice picked up the
+sword. He gave Francois a vigorous prod. Francois needed no
+further inducement. He started forward with alacrity. In the wink
+of an eye he threw the cord around Beauvais's arms and pinned
+them to his sides. Beauvais swore, but the valet was strong in
+his fright. He struggled and wound and knotted and tied,
+murmuring his pitiful "Mon Dieu!" the while, till the Colonel was
+the central figure of a Gordian knot.
+
+"That will do," said Maurice. "Now, Francois, good and faithful
+servant, take your master over to the lounge, and sit down beside
+him until I get into my clothes. Yes; that's it." He shoved his
+collar and tie into a pocket, slipped on his vest and coat, put
+on his hat and slung his topcoat over his arm. During these
+maneuvers the revolver remained conspicuously in sight. "Now,
+Francois, lead the way to the street door. By the time you return
+to your illustrious master, who is the prince or duke of
+something or other, pursuit will be out of the question. Now, as
+for you," turning to Beauvais, "the forty-eight hours hold good.
+During that time I shall go armed. Forty-eight hours from now I
+shall inform the authorities at the nearest consulate. If they
+catch you, that's your affair. Off we go, Francois."
+
+"By God!--" began Beauvais, struggling to his feet.
+
+"Come so far as this door," warned Maurice, "and, bound or not,
+I'll knock you down. Hang you! Do you think my temper will
+improve in your immediate vicinity? Do you think for a moment
+that I do not lust for your blood as heartily as you lust for
+mine? Go to the devil your own way; you'll go fast enough!" He
+caught Francois by the shoulders and pushed him into the hall,
+followed, and closed the door. Francois had been graduated from
+the stables, therefore his courage never rose to sublime heights.
+All the way down the stairs he lamented; and each time he turned
+his head and saw the glitter of the revolver barrel he choked
+with terror. 
+
+"If you do not kill me, Monsieur, he will; he will, I know he
+will! My God, how did it happen? He will kill me!" and the voice
+sank into a muffled sob.
+
+Despite the gravity of the situation, Maurice could not repress
+his laughter. "He will not harm you; he threatened you merely to
+delay me. Open the door." He stepped out into the refreshing air.
+"By the way, tell your master not to go to the trouble of having
+me arrested, for the first thing in the morning I shall place a
+sealed packet in the hands of the British minister, to be opened
+if I do not call for it within twenty-four hours. And say to your
+master that I shall keep the rose."
+
+"Mon Dieu! A woman! I might have known!" ejaculated Francois, as
+the door banged in his face.
+     
+Maurice, on reaching the pavement, took to his legs, for he saw
+three men rapidly approaching. Perhaps they had heard the pistol
+shot. He concluded not to wait to learn. He continued his rush
+till he gained his room. It was two o'clock. He had been in the
+Colonel's room nearly three hours. It seemed only so many
+minutes. He hunted for his brandy, found it and swallowed several
+mouthfuls. Then he dropped into a chair from sheer exhaustion.
+Reaction laid hold of him. His hands shook, his legs trembled,
+and perspiration rolled down his cheek.
+
+"By George!" This exclamation stood alone, but it was an 
+Odyssey. He remained stupefied, staring at his shoes, over 
+which his stockings had fallen. His shirt buttons were gone, and 
+the bosom was guiltless of its former immaculateness. After a 
+time he became conscious of a burning pain in the elbow of his 
+right arm. He glanced down at his hand, to find it covered with 
+drying blood. He jumped up and cast about his clothes. One leg 
+of his trousers was soaked, and the dull ache in his thigh told 
+the cause. He salved the wounds and bound them in strips of 
+handkerchiefs, which he held in place by using some of the 
+cast-off cravats.
+
+"That was about as close to death as a man can get and pull out.
+I feel as if I had swallowed that cursed blade of his. I am an
+ass, sure enough. I've always a bad cold when there's a rat
+about; can't smell him. And the rascal remembered me! Will he
+stay in spite of my threat? I'll hang on here till to-morrow. If
+he stays--I won't. He has the devil's own of a sword. Hang it, my
+nerves are all gone to smash."
+
+Soon some gentler thought took hold, and he smiled tenderly. He
+brought forth the rose, turned it this way and that, studied it,
+stroked it, held it to his lips as a lover holds the hand of the
+woman he loves. Her rose; somehow his heart told him that she had
+laughed because Beauvais had stooped in vain.
+
+"Ah, Maurice," he said, "you are growing over fond. But why not?
+Who will know? To have loved is something."
+
+He crept into bed; but sleep refused him its offices, and he
+tossed about in troubled dreams. He fought all kinds of duels
+with all sorts of weapons. He was killed a half dozen times, but
+the archbishop always gave him something which rekindled the
+vital spark. A thousand Beauvaises raged at him. A thousand
+princesses were ever in the background, waiting to be saved. He
+swore to kill these Beauvaises, and after many fruitless
+endeavors, he succeeded in smothering them in their gray 
+pelisses. Then he woke, as dreamers always wake when they pass
+some great dream-crisis, and found himself in a deadly struggle
+with a pillow and a bed-post. He laughed and sprang out of bed.
+
+"It's no use, I can't sleep. I am an old woman."
+
+So he lit his pipe and sat dreaming with his eyes open, smoking
+and smoking, until the sickly pallor of dawn appeared in the sky,
+and he knew that day had come.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+A MINOR CHORD AND A CHANGE OF MOVEMENT
+
+Marshal Kampf, wrapt in his military cloak, with the peak of his 
+cap drawn over his eyes, sat on one of the rustic benches in the 
+archbishop's gardens and reflected. The archbishop had announced 
+an informal levee, the first since the king's illness. He had 
+impressed the Marshal with the fact that his presence was both 
+urgent and necessary. Disturbed as he was by the unusual command,
+the Marshal had arrived an hour too early. Since the prelate 
+would not rise until nine, the Marshal told the valet that he 
+would wait in the gardens.
+
+An informal levee, he mused. What was the meaning of it? Had 
+that master of craft and silence found a breach in the enemy's 
+fortifications? He rubbed the chill from his nose, crossed and 
+re-crossed his legs and teetered till the spurs on his boots set 
+up a tuneful jingle.
+
+So far as he himself was concerned, he was not worried. The 
+prelate knew his views and knew that he would stand or fall with 
+them. He had never looked for benefits, as did those around him. 
+He had offered what he had without hope of reward, because he 
+had considered it his duty. And, after all, what had the Osian 
+done that he should be driven to this ignominious end? His 
+motives never could be questioned; each act had been in some way 
+for the country's good. Every king is a usurper to those who 
+oppose him.
+
+Would the kingdom be bettered in having a queen against whom the 
+confederation itself was opposed? Would it not be adding a 
+twofold burden to the one? The kingdom was at peace with those 
+countries from which it had most to fear. Was it wise to 
+antagonize them? Small independent states were independent only 
+by courtesy. Again, why had Austria contrived to place an alien 
+on the throne, in face of popular sentiment? Would Austria's 
+interests have been less safe in the advent of rightful 
+succession? Up to now, what had Austria gained by ignoring the 
+true house? Outwardly nothing, but below the surface? Who could 
+answer?
+
+For eleven years he had tried to discover the secret purpose of 
+Austria, but, like others, he had failed; and the Austrian 
+minister was less decipherable than the "Chinese puzzle." He was 
+positive that none of the arch-conspirators knew; they were 
+blinded by self-interest. And the archbishop? The Marshal rubbed 
+his nose again, not, however, because it was cold. Did any one 
+know what was going on behind the smiling mask which the 
+reticent prelate showed to the world? The Marshal poked his chin 
+above his collar, and the wrinkles fell away from his gray eyes.
+
+The sky was clear and brilliant, and a tonic from the forests 
+sweetened the rushing air. The lake was ruffled out of its usual 
+calm, and rolled and galloped along the distant shores and 
+flashed on the golden sands. Above the patches of red and brown 
+and yellow the hills and mountains stood out in bold, decided 
+lines.
+
+Water fowl swept along the marshes. The doves in twos and threes 
+fluttered down to the path, strutted about in their peculiarly 
+awkward fashion, and doubtfully eyed the silent gray figure on 
+the bench, as if to question his right to be there this time of 
+the morning, their trysting hour. Presently the whole flock came 
+down, and began cooing and waltzing at the Marshal's feet. He 
+soon discovered the cause.
+
+Her Royal Highness was coming through the opening in the 
+hedgerow which separated the two confines. She carried a basket 
+on her arm, and the bulldog followed at her heels, holding his 
+injured leg in the air, and limping on the remaining three. At 
+the sight of her the doves rose and circled above her head. She 
+smiled and threw into the air handful after handful of cake and 
+bread crumbs. In their eagerness the doves alighted on her 
+shoulders, on the rim of the basket, and even on the broad back 
+of the dog, who was too sober to give attention to this seeming 
+indignity. He kept his eye on his mistress's skirts, moved when 
+she moved, and stopped when she stopped. A gray-white cloud 
+enveloped them.
+
+The Marshal, with a curious sensation in his heart, observed 
+this exquisite, living picture. He was childless; and though he 
+was by nature undemonstrative, he was very fond of this youth. 
+Her cheeks were scarlet, her rosy lips were parted in excitement,
+and her eyes glistened with pleasure. With all her twenty years,
+she was but ten in fancy; a woman, yet a child, unlettered in 
+worldly wit, wise in her love of nature. Not until she had 
+thrown away the last of the crumbs did she notice the Marshal. 
+He rose and bowed.
+
+"Good morning, your Highness. I am very much interested in your 
+court. And do you hold it every morning?"
+
+"Even when it rains," she said, smiling. "I am so glad to see 
+you; I wanted to talk to you last night, but I could not find 
+the opportunity. Let me share the bench with you."
+
+And youth and age sat down together. The bulldog planted himself 
+in the middle of the path and blinked at his sworn enemy. The 
+Marshal had no love for him, and he was well aware of it; at 
+present, an armistice.
+
+The princess gazed at the rollicking waters, at her doves, 
+thence into the inquiring gray eyes of the old soldier.
+
+"Do you remember," she said, "how I used to climb on your knees, 
+ever so long ago, and listen to your fairy stories?"
+
+"Eh! And is it possible that your Highness remembers?" wrinkles 
+of delight gathering in his cheeks. "But why `ever so long ago'? 
+It was but yesterday. And your Highness remembers!"
+
+"I am like my father; I never forget!" She looked toward the 
+waters again. "I can recall only one story. It was about a 
+princess who lost all her friends through the offices of a 
+wicked fairy. I remember it because it was the only story you 
+told me that had a sad ending. It was one of Andersen's. Her 
+father and mother died, and the moment she was left alone her 
+enemies set to work and toppled over her throne. She was cast 
+out into the world, having no friend but a dog; but the dog 
+always found something to eat, and protected her from giants and 
+robbers and wolves.
+
+"Many a time I thought of her, and cried because she was so 
+unhappy. Well, she traveled from place to place, footsore and 
+weary, but in her own country no one dared aid her, for fear of 
+displeasing the wicked fairy, who at this time was all powerful. 
+So she entered a strange land, where some peasants took her in, 
+clothed and fed her, and gave her a staff and a flock of geese 
+to tend. And day after day she guarded the flock, telling her 
+sorrows to the dog, how she missed the dear ones and the home of 
+her childhood.
+
+"One day the reigning prince of this strange land passed by 
+while hunting, and he saw the princess tending her geese. He 
+made inquiries, and when he found that the beautiful goose-girl 
+was a princess, he offered to marry her. She consented to become 
+his wife, because she was too delicate to drudge. So she and her 
+dog went to live at the palace. Once she was married the dog 
+behaved strangely, whining softly, and refusing to be consoled. 
+The prince was very kind to them both.
+
+"Alas! It seems that when she left her own country the good 
+fairy had lost all track of her, to find her when it was too 
+late. The dog was a prince under a wicked spell, and when the 
+spell fell away the princess knew that she loved him, and not 
+her husband. She pined away and died. How many times I have 
+thought of her, poor, lonely, fairy-tale princess!"
+
+The old soldier blinked at the doves, and there was a furrow 
+between his eyes. Yes; how well he remembered telling her that 
+story. But, as she repeated it, it was clothed with a strange 
+significance. Somehow, he found himself voiceless; he knew not 
+how to reply.
+
+"Monsieur," she said suddenly, "tell me, what has my poor father 
+done that these people should hate him and desire his ruin?"
+
+"He has been kind to them, my child," his gaze still riveted on 
+the doves; "that is all. He has given them beautiful parks, he 
+has made them a beautiful city. A king who thinks of his 
+people's welfare is never understood. And ignorant and 
+ungrateful people always hate those to whom they are under 
+obligations. It is the way of the world."
+
+"And--and you, Marshal?" timidly.
+
+"And I?"
+
+"Yes. They whisper that--that--O, Marshal, is it you who will 
+forsake us in our need? I have heard many things of late which 
+were not intended for my ears. My father and I, we are so alone. 
+I have never known the comradeship of young people; I have never 
+had that which youth longs for--a confidant of my own age. The 
+young people I know serve me simply for their own ends, and not 
+because they love me.
+
+"I have never spoken thus before to-day, save to this dog. He 
+has been my confidant; but he can not speak except with his kind 
+old eyes, and he can not understand as I would have him. And 
+they hate even him because they know that I love him. Poor dog!
+
+"What my father has done has always been wrong in his own eyes, 
+but he sinned for my sake, and God will forgive him. He gave up 
+the home he loved for my sake. O, that I had known and 
+understood! I was only six. We are so alone; we have no place to 
+go, no friends save two, and they are helpless. And now I am to 
+make a sacrifice for him to repay him for all he has done for me.
+I have promised my hand to one I do not love; even he forsakes 
+me. But love is not the portion of princesses. Love to them is a 
+fairy story. To secure my father's throne I have sacrificed my 
+girlhood dreams. Ah! and they were so sweet and dear."
+
+She put a hand to her throat as if something had tightened there.
+"Marshal, I beg of you to tell me the truth, the truth! Is my 
+father dying? Is he? He--they will not tell me the truth. And I .
+. . never to hear his voice again! The truth, for pity's sake!" 
+She caught at his hands and strove to read his eyes. "For pity's 
+sake!"
+
+He drew his breath deeply. He dared not look into her eyes for 
+fear she might see the tears in his; so he bent hastily and 
+pressed her hands to his lips. But in his heart he knew that his 
+promise to the dead was gone with the winds, and that he would 
+shed the last drop of blood in his withered veins for the sake 
+of this sad, lonely child.
+
+"Your father, my child, will never stand up straight again," he 
+said. "As for the rest, that is in the hands of God. But I swear 
+to you that this dried-up old heart beats only for you. I will 
+stand or fall with you, in good times or bad." And he rubbed his 
+nose more fiercely than ever. "Had I a daughter-- But there! I 
+have none."
+
+"My heart is breaking," she said, with a little sob. She sank 
+back, her head drooped to the arm of the bench, and she made no 
+effort to stem the flood of tears. "I have no mother, and now my 
+father is to leave me. And I love him so, I love him so! He has 
+sacrificed all his happiness to secure mine--in vain. I laugh 
+and smile because he asks me to, and all the while my heart is 
+breaking, breaking."
+
+At this juncture the doves rose hurriedly. The Marshal 
+discovered the archbishop's valet making toward him.
+
+"Monsieur the Marshal, Monseigneur breakfasts and requests you 
+to join him."
+
+"Immediately;" and the Marshal rose. He placed his hand on the 
+dark head. "Keep up your heart, my child," he said, "and we 
+shall see if I have grown too old for service." He squared his 
+shoulders and followed the valet, who viewed the scene with a 
+valet's usual nonchalance. When the Marshal reached the steps to 
+the side entrance, he looked back. The dog had taken his place, 
+and the girl had buried her face in his neck. A moment later the 
+old soldier was ushered into the archbishop's presence, but 
+neither with fear nor uneasiness in his heart.
+
+"Ah ! Good morning, Marshal," said the prelate. "Be seated. Did 
+you not find it chilly in the gardens?"
+
+"Not the least. It is a fine day. I have just left her Royal 
+Highness."
+
+The prelate arched his eyebrows, and an interrogation shot out 
+from under them.
+
+"Yes," answered the observant soldier. "My heart has ever been 
+hers; this time it is my hand and brain."
+
+The prelate's egg spoon remained poised in mid-air; then it 
+dropped with a clatter into the cup! But a moment gone he had 
+held a sword in his hand; he was disarmed.
+
+"I have promised to stand and fall with her."
+
+"Stand and fall? Why not 'or'?" with a long, steadfast gaze.
+
+"Did I say 'and'? Well, then," stolidly, "perhaps that is the 
+word I meant to use. If I do the one I shall certainly do the 
+other."
+
+The archbishop absently stirred his eggs.
+
+"God is witness," said the Marshal, "I have always been honest."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And neutral."
+
+"Yes; honest and neutral."
+
+"But a man, a lonely man like myself, can not always master the 
+impulses of the heart; and I have surrendered to mine."
+
+The listener turned to some documents which lay beside the cup, 
+and idly fingered them. "I am glad; I am very glad. I have 
+always secretly admired you; and to tell the truth, I have 
+feared you most of all--because you are honest."
+
+The Marshal shifted his saber around and drew his knees together.
+"I return the compliment," frankly. "I have never feared you; I 
+have distrusted you."
+
+"And why distrusted?"
+
+"Because Leopold of Osia would never have forsaken his 
+birthright, nor looked toward a throne, had you not pointed the 
+way and coveted the archbishopric."
+
+"I wished only to make him great;" but the prelate lowered his eyes.
+
+"And share his greatness," was the shrewd rejoinder. "I am an 
+old man, and frankness in old age is pardonable. There are 
+numbers of disinterested men in the world, but unfortunately 
+they happen to be dead. O, I do not blame you; there is human 
+nature in most of us. But the days of Richelieus and Mazarins 
+are past. The Church is simply the church, and is no longer the 
+power behind the throne. I have served the house of Auersperg 
+for fifty years, that is to say, since I was sixteen; I had 
+hoped to die in the service. Perhaps my own reason for 
+distrusting you has not been disinterested."
+
+"Perhaps not."
+
+"And as I now stand I shall die neither in the service of the 
+house of Auersperg nor of Osia. It is not the princess; it is 
+the lonely girl."
+
+"I need not tell you," said the prelate quietly, "that I am in 
+Bleiberg only for that purpose. And since we are together, I 
+will tell you this: Madame the duchess will never sit upon this 
+throne. To-day I am practically regent, with full powers from 
+his Majesty. I have summoned von Wallenstein and Mollendorf for 
+a purpose which I shall make known to you." He held up two 
+documents, and gently waving them: "These contain the dismissal 
+of both gentlemen, together with my reasons. There were three; 
+one I shall now destroy because it has suddenly become void." He 
+tore it up, turned, and flung the pieces into the grate.
+
+The Marshal glanced instinctively at his shoulder straps, and 
+saw that they had come very near to oblivion.
+
+"There is nothing more, Marshal," went on the prelate. "What I 
+had to say to you has slipped my mind. Under the change of 
+circumstances, it might embarrass you to meet von Wallenstein 
+and Mollendorf. You have spoken frankly, and in justice to you I 
+will return in kind. Yes, in the old days I was ambitious; but 
+God has punished me through those I love. I shall leave to you 
+the selection of a new Colonel of the cuirassiers."
+
+"What! and Beauvais, too?" exclaimed the Marshal.
+
+"Yes. My plans require it. I have formed a new cabinet, which 
+will meet to-night at eight. I shall expect you to be present."
+
+The two old men rose. Suddenly, a kindly smile broke through the 
+austereness of the prelate's countenance, and he thrust out his 
+hand; the old soldier met it.
+
+"Providence always watches over the innocent," said the prelate, 
+"else we would have been still at war. Good morning."
+
+The Marshal returned home, thoughtful and taciturn. What would 
+be the end?
+
+Ten minutes after the Marshal's departure, von Wallenstein and 
+Mollendorf entered the prelate's breakfast room.
+
+"Good morning, Messieurs," said the churchman, the expression on 
+his face losing its softness, and the glint of triumph stealing 
+into his keen eyes. "I am acting on behalf of his Majesty this 
+morning," presenting a document to each. "Observe them carefully."
+He turned and left the room. The archbishop had not only eaten 
+a breakfast, he had devoured a cabinet.
+
+Count von Wallenstein watched the retreating figure of the 
+prelate till the door closed behind it; then he smiled at 
+Mollendorf, who had not the courage to return it, and who stared 
+at the parchment in his hand as if it were possessed of basilisk 
+eyes.
+
+"Monseigneur," said the count, as he glanced through the 
+contents of the document, "has forestalled me. Well, well; I do 
+not begrudge him his last card. He has played it; let us go."
+
+"Perhaps," faltered Mollendorf, "he has played his first card. 
+What are you going to do?"
+
+"Remain at home and wait. And I shall not have long to wait. The 
+end is near."
+
+"Count, I tell you that the archbishop is not a man to play thus 
+unless something strong were behind him. You do wrong not to 
+fear him."
+
+Von Wallenstein recalled the warning of the Colonel of the 
+cuirassiers. "Nevertheless, we are too strong to fear him."
+
+"Monseigneur is in correspondence with Austria," said the 
+minister of police, quietly.
+
+"You said nothing of this before," was the surprised reply.
+
+"It was only this morning that I learned it."
+
+The count's gaze roamed about the room, and finally rested on 
+the charred slips of paper in the grate. He shrugged.
+
+"If he corresponds with Austria it is too late," he said. "Come, 
+let us go." He snapped his fingers in the air, and Mollendorf 
+followed him from the room.
+
+
+*   *   *   *   *   *
+
+
+The princess still remained on the rustic bench; her head was 
+bowed, but her tears were dried.
+
+"O, Bull," she whispered, "and you and I shall soon be all alone!"
+
+A few doves fluttered about her; the hills flamed beneath the 
+chill September sky, the waters sang and laughed, but she saw 
+not nor heard.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+A CHANCE RIDE IN THE NIGHT
+
+Maurice, who had wisely slept the larger part of the day, and 
+amused himself at solitary billiards until dinner, came out on 
+the terrace to smoke his after-dinner cigar. He watched the sun 
+as, like a ball of rusted brass, it slid down behind the hills, 
+leaving the glowing embers of a smoldering day on the hilltops. 
+The vermilion deepened into charred umber, and soon the west was 
+a blackened grate; another day vanished in ashes. The filmy 
+golden pallor of twilight now blurred the landscape; the wind 
+increased with a gayer, madder, keener touch; the lake went 
+billowing in shadows of gray and black, and one by one the lamps 
+of the city sprang up, vivid as sparks from an anvil. Now and 
+again the thin, clear music of the band drifted across from the 
+park. The fountain glimmered in the Platz, the cafes began to 
+glitter, carriages rolled hither and thither. The city had taken 
+on its colorful night.
+
+"Well, here's another day gone," he mused, rubbing his elbow, 
+which was yet stiff. "I am anxious to know what that sinner is 
+doing. Has he pulled up stakes or has he stayed to get a whack 
+at me? I hope he's gone; he's a bad Indian, and if anything, 
+he'll want my scalp in his belt before he goes. Hang it! It 
+seems that I have poked my head into every bear trap in the 
+kingdom. I may not get out of the next one. How clever I was, to 
+be sure! It all comes from loving the dramatic. I am a diplomat, 
+but nobody would guess it at first sight. To talk to a man as I 
+talked to him, and to threaten! He said I was young; I was, but 
+I grow older every day. And the wise word now is, don't imitate 
+the bull of the trestle," as he recalled an American cartoon 
+which at that day was having vogue in the American colony in 
+Vienna.
+
+"I like adventure, I know, but I'm going to give the Colonel a 
+wide berth. If he sees me first, off the board I go. Where will 
+he go--to the duchy? I trust not; we both can not settle in that 
+territory; it's too small. And yet I am bound to go back; it is 
+not my promise so much as it is my cursed curiosity. By George!" 
+rubbing his elbow gently. "And to think, Maurice, that you might 
+not have witnessed this sunset but for a bit of fencing trickery.
+What a turn that picture of Inez gave me! I knew him in a 
+second--and like the ass I was, I told him so. And to meet him 
+here, almost a left-handed king; no wonder I did not recognize 
+him.
+
+"I should like to come in on Fitzgerald to-night. His father 
+must have had a crazy streak in him somewhere. Four millions to 
+throw away; humph! And who the deuce has those certificates?" He 
+lolled against the parapet. "If I had four millions, and if 
+Prince Frederick had disappeared for good. . . . Why are things 
+so jumbled up, at sixes and sevens? We are all human beings; why 
+should some be placed higher than others? A prince is no better 
+than I am, and may be not half so good.
+
+"Sometimes I like to get up high somewhere and look down on 
+every one else; every one else looks so small that it's 
+comforting. The true philosopher has no desire; he sits down and 
+views the world as if he were not a part of it. Perhaps it is 
+best so. Yes, I would like four millions and a principality. . . .
+Heigho! how bracing the air is, and what a night for a ride! 
+I've a mind to exercise Madame's horse. A long lone ride on the 
+opposite side of the lake, on the road to Italy; come, let's try 
+it. Better that than mope."
+
+He mounted to the veranda, and for the first time he noticed the 
+suppressed excitement which lit the faces of those around him. 
+Groups were gathered here and there, talking, gesticulating, and 
+flourishing the evening papers. He moved toward the nearest 
+group.
+
+"The archbishop has dismissed the cabinet . . . crisis imminent."
+
+"The Austrian minister has recalled his invitations to the 
+embassy ball."
+
+"The archbishop will not be able to form another cabinet."
+
+"Count von Wallenstein . . . "
+
+"Mollendorf and Beauvais, too--"
+
+"The king is dying . . . The archbishop has been given full 
+powers."
+
+"The army will revolt unless Beauvais is recalled."
+
+"And the Marshal says here . . ."
+
+Maurice waited to hear no more, but climbed through the window 
+into the office.
+
+"By George, something has happened since last night. I must have 
+an evening paper." He found one, and read an elaborate account 
+of what had taken place during the day. Von Wallenstein had been 
+relieved of the finance. Mollendorf of the police, Erzberg of 
+foreign affairs, and Beauvais of his epaulettes. There remained 
+only the archbishop, the chancellor and the Marshal. The 
+editorial was virulent in its attack on the archbishop, 
+blustered and threatened, and predicted that the fall of the 
+dynasty was but a matter of a few hours. For it asserted that 
+the prelate could not form another cabinet, and without a 
+cabinet there could be no government. It was not possible for 
+the archbishop to shoulder the burden alone; he must reinstate 
+the ministry or fall.
+
+"And this is the beginning of the end," said Maurice, throwing 
+aside the paper. "What will happen next? The old prelate is not 
+a man to play to the gallery. Has he found out the double 
+dealing of Beauvais? That takes a burden off my shoulders--
+unless he goes at once to the duchy. But why wasn't the cabinet 
+dismissed ages ago? It is now too late. And where is Prince 
+Frederick to the rescue? There is something going on, and what 
+it is only the archbishop knows.
+
+That smile of his! How will it end? I'd like to see von Mitter, 
+who seems to be a good gossip. And that poor, friendless, 
+paralytic king! I say, but it makes the blood grow warm."
+
+He left the chair and paced the office confines. Only one thing 
+went echoing through his brain, and that was he could do nothing.
+The sooner he settled down in the attitude of a spectator the 
+better for him. Besides, he was an official in the employ of a 
+foreign country, and it would be the height of indiscretion to 
+meddle, even in a private capacity. It would be to jeopardize 
+his diplomatic career, and that would be ridiculous.
+
+A porter touched him on the shoulder.
+
+"A letter for your Excellency."
+
+It was from the American minister in Vienna.
+
+"My dear Carewe: I have a service to ask of you. The British 
+minister is worried over the disappearance of a fellow-
+countryman, Lord Fitzgerald. He set out for Bleiberg, leaving 
+instructions to look him up if nothing was heard of him within a 
+week. Two weeks have gone. Knowing you to be in Bleiberg, I 
+believed you might take the trouble to look into the affair. The 
+British ambassador hints at strange things, as if he feared foul 
+play. I shall have urgent need of you by the first of October; 
+our charge d'affaires is to return home on account of ill-health,
+and your appointment to that office is a matter of a few days."
+
+Maurice whistled. "That is good news; not Haine's illness, but 
+that I have an excuse to meddle here. I'll telegraph at once. 
+And I'll take the ride besides." He went to his room and buckled 
+on his spurs, and thoughtfully slipped his revolver into a 
+pocket. "I am not going to take any chances, even in the dark." 
+Once again in the office, he stepped up to the desk and ordered 
+his horse to be brought around to the cafe entrance.
+
+"Certainly," said the clerk. Then in low tones "There has been a 
+curious exchange in saddles, Monsieur."
+
+"Saddles?"
+
+"Yes. The saddle in your stall is, curiously enough, stamped 
+with the arms of the house of Auersperg. How that military 
+saddle came into the stables is more than the grooms can solve."
+
+"O," said Maurice, with an assumption of carelessness; "that is 
+all right. It's the saddle I arrived on. The horse and saddle 
+belong to Madame the duchess. I have been visiting at the Red 
+Chateau. I shall return in the morning."
+
+"Ah," said the clerk, with a furtive smile which Maurice lost; 
+"that accounts for the mystery."
+
+"Here are two letters that must get in to-night's mails," 
+Maurice said; "and also this telegram should be sent at once."
+
+"As Monsieur desires. Ah, I came near forgetting. There is a 
+note for Monsieur, which came this afternoon while Monsieur was 
+asleep."
+
+The envelope was unstamped, and the scrawl was unfamiliar to 
+Maurice. On opening it he was surprised to find a hurriedly 
+written note from Fitzgerald. In all probability it had been 
+brought by the midnight courier on his return from the duchy.
+
+     "In God's name, Maurice, why do you linger?
+     To-morrow morning those consols must be here
+     or they will be useless. Hasten; you know what
+     it means to me.
+                                 Fitzgerald."
+
+Maurice perused it twice, and pulled at his lips. "Madame 
+becomes impatient. Poor devil. Somebody is likely to become 
+suddenly rich and somebody correspondingly poor. What will they 
+say when I return empty-handed? Like as not Madame will accuse 
+me--and Fitzgerald will believe her! . . . The archbishop! That 
+accounts for this bold move. And how the deuce did he get hold 
+of them? I give up." And his shoulders settled in resignation.
+
+He passed down into the cafe, from there to his horse, which a 
+groom was holding at the curb. He swung into the saddle and 
+tossed a coin to the man, who touched his cap.
+
+The early moon lifted its silvery bulk above the ragged east, 
+and the patches of clouds which swarmed over the face of that 
+white world of silence resembled so many rooks. Far away, at the 
+farthermost shore of the lake, whenever the moon went free from 
+the clouds, Maurice could see the slim gray line of the road 
+which stretched toward Italy.
+
+"It's a fine night," he mused, glancing heavenward. The horse 
+answered the touch of the spurs, and cantered away, glad enough 
+to exchange the close air of the stables for this fresh gift of 
+the night. Maurice guided him around the palaces into the avenue,
+which derived its name from the founder of the opera, in which 
+most of the diplomatic families lived. Past the residence of 
+Beauvais he went, and, gazing up at the lightless windows, a 
+cold of short duration seized his spine. It bad been a hair's 
+breadth betwixt him and death. "Your room, Colonel, is better 
+than you company; and hereafter I shall endeavor to avoid both. 
+I shall feel that cursed blade of yours for weeks to come."
+
+Carriages rolled past him. A gay throng in evening dress was 
+crowding into the opera. The huge placard announced, "Norma--
+Mlle. Lenormand--Royal Opera Troupe." How he would have liked to 
+hear it, with Lenormand in the title role. He laughed as he 
+recalled the episodes in Vienna which were associated with this 
+queen of song. He waved his hand as the opera house sank in the 
+distance. "Au revoir, Celeste, ma charmante; adieu." By and by 
+he reached the deserted part of the city, and in less than a 
+quarter of an hour branched off into the broad road bordering 
+the lake. The horse quickened his gait as he felt the stone of 
+the streets no longer beneath his feet, which now fell with 
+muffled rhythm on the sound earth. Maurice shared with him the 
+delight of the open country, and began to talk to the animal.
+
+"A fine night, eh, old boy? I've ridden many backs, but none 
+easier than yours. This air is what gives the blood its color. 
+Too bad; you ought not to belong to Madame. She will never think 
+as much of you as I should."
+
+The city was falling away behind, and a yellow vapor rose over 
+it. The lake tumbled in moonshine. Maurice took to dreaming 
+again--hope and a thousand stars, love and a thousand dreams.
+
+"God knows I love her; but what's the use? We can not all have 
+what we want; let us make the best of what we have. Philosophy 
+is a comfort only to old age. Why should youth bother to reason 
+why? And I--I have not yet outgrown youth. I believed I had, but 
+I have not. I did not dream she existed, and now she is more to 
+me than anything else in the world. Why; I wonder why? I look 
+into a pair of brown eyes, and am seized with madness. I hope. 
+For what? O, Bucephalus! let us try to wake and leave the dream 
+behind. The gratitude of a princess and a dog . . . and for this 
+a rose. Well, it will prove the substance of many a pipe, many a 
+kindly pipe. You miss a good deal, Bucephalus; smoking is an 
+evil habit only to those who have not learned to smoke."
+
+The animal replied with a low whinney, and Maurice, believing 
+that the horse had given an ear to his monologue, laughed. But 
+he flattered himself. The horse whinneyed because he inhaled the 
+faint odor of his kind. He drew down on the rein and settled 
+into a swinging trot, which to Maurice's surprise was faster and 
+easier than the canter. They covered a mile this way, when 
+Maurice's roving eye discovered moving shadows, perhaps half a 
+mile in advance.
+
+"Hello! we're not the only ones jogging along. Eh, what's that?" 
+Something flashed brightly, like silver reflecting moonlight; 
+then came a spark of flame, which died immediately, and later 
+Maurice caught an echo which resembled the bursting of a leaf 
+against the lips. "Come; that looks like a pistol shot."
+
+Again the flash of silver, broader and clearer this time; and 
+Maurice could now separate the shadow-shapes. A carriage of some 
+sort rolled from side to side, and two smaller shadows followed 
+its wild flight. One--two--three times Maurice saw the sparks and 
+heard the faint reports. He became excited. Something 
+extraordinary was taking place on the lonely road. Suddenly the 
+top of the carriage replied with spiteful flashes of red. Then 
+the moon came out from behind the clouds, and the picture was 
+vividly outlined. Two continuous flashes of silver. . . . 
+Cuirassiers! Maurice loosened the rein, and the horse went 
+forward as smoothly as a sail. The distance grew visibly less. 
+The carriage opened fire again, and Maurice heard the sinister
+m-m-m of a bullet winging past him.
+
+"The wrong man may get hit, Bucephalus," he said, bending to the 
+neck of the horse; "which is not unusual. You're pulling them 
+down, old boy; keep it up. There's trouble ahead, and since the 
+cuirassiers are for the king, we'll stand by the cuirassiers."
+
+On they flew, nearer and nearer, until the pistol shots were no 
+longer echoes. Two other horsemen came into view, in advance of 
+the carriage. Five minutes more of this exciting chase, and the 
+faces took on lines and grew into features. Up, up crept the 
+gallant little horse, his hoofs rattling against the road like 
+snares on a drum. When within a dozen rods, Maurice saw one of 
+the cuirassiers turn and level a revolver at him. Fortunately 
+the horse swerved, and the ball went wide.
+
+"Don't shoot!" Maurice yelled; "don't shoot!"
+
+The face he saw was von Mitter's. His heart clogged in his 
+throat, not at the danger which threatened him, but at the 
+thought of what that carriage might contain.
+
+A short time passed, during which nothing was heard but the 
+striking of galloping hoofs and the rumble of the carriage. 
+Maurice soon drew abreast of von Mitter. There was a gash on the 
+latter's cheek, and the blood from it dripped on his cuirass.
+
+"Close for you, my friend," he gasped; when he recognized the 
+new arrival. "Have you--God! my leg that time," with a groan.
+
+For the fire of the carriage had spoken again, and true.
+
+Maurice shut his teeth, drew his revolver, cocked it and applied 
+the spurs. With a bound he shot past von Mitter, who was cursing 
+deeply and trying to reload. Maurice did not propose to waste 
+powder on the driver, but was determined to bring down one of 
+the carriage horses, which were marvelous brutes for speed. 
+Scharfenstein kept popping away at the driver, but without 
+apparent result. Finally Maurice secured the desired range. He 
+raised the revolver, rested the barrel between the left thumb 
+and forefinger and pressed the trigger. The nearest carriage 
+horse lurched to his knees, a bullet in his brain, dragging his 
+mate with him. The race had come to an end.
+
+At once the two horsemen in front separated; one continued 
+toward the great forest, while the other took to the hills. 
+Scharfenstein started in pursuit of the latter. As for the 
+carriage, it came to an abrupt stand. The driver made a flying 
+leap toward the lake, but stumbled and fell, and before he could 
+regain his feet Maurice was off his horse and on his quarry. He 
+caught the fellow by the throat and pressed him to the earth, 
+kneeling on his chest.
+
+"Hold him!" cried von Mitter, coming up with a limp, "hold him 
+till I knock in his head, damn him!"
+
+"No, no!" said Maurice, "you can't get information out of a dead 
+man."
+
+"It's all up with me," groaned the Lieutenant. "I'll ask for my 
+discharge. I could hit nothing, my hand trembled. I was afraid 
+of shooting into the carriage."
+
+Maurice turned his attention to the man beneath him. "Now, you 
+devil," he cried, "a clean breast of it, or off the board you go.
+ O!" suddenly peering down. "By the Lord, so it is you--you--you!"
+savagely bumping the fellow's head against the earth. "Spy!"
+
+"You are killing me!"
+
+"Small matter. Who is this fellow?" asked Maurice.
+
+"Johann Kopf, a spy, a police rat, and God knows what else," 
+answered von Mitter, limping toward the carriage. "Curse the leg!"
+He forced the door and peered inside. "Fainted! I thought as 
+much." He lifted the inanimate bundle which lay huddled in 
+between the seats and carried it to the side of the road, where 
+he tenderly laid it. He rubbed the girl's wrists, unmindful of 
+the blood which fell from his face and left dark stains on her 
+dress. "Thank God," heartily, "that her Royal Highness was 
+suffering from a headache. She would have died from fright."
+
+Maurice felt the straining cords in the prisoner's neck grow 
+limp. The rascal had fainted.
+
+"Not her Highness?" Maurice asked, the weight of dread lifting 
+from his heart.
+
+"No. Her Royal Highness sent Camille, her maid of honor, veiled 
+and dressed like herself, to play an innocent jest on her old 
+nurse. Some one shall account for this; for they mistook Camille 
+for her Highness. I'm going to wade out into the water," von 
+Mitter added, staggering to his feet.
+
+"You'll never get off your boot," said Maurice.
+
+"I'll cut it off," was the reply, "I shall faint if I do not 
+cool off the leg. The ball is somewhere in the calf." And he 
+waded out into the water until it reached above his knees. Thus 
+he stood for a moment, then returned to the maid, who, on 
+opening her eyes, screamed. "It is all over, Camille," said the 
+Lieutenant, throwing an arm about her.
+
+"Your face is bleeding!" she cried, and sank back with her head 
+against his broad breast.
+
+As Maurice gazed at the pair he sighed. There were no obstacles 
+here.
+
+Soon Scharfenstein came loping down the hill alone.
+
+"I killed his horse," he said, in response to queries, "but he 
+fled into the woods where I could not follow. A bad night for us,
+Carl, a bad night," swinging off his horse. "A boy would have 
+done better work. Whom have we here?"
+
+"Kopf," said Maurice, "and he has a ball somewhere inside," 
+holding up a bloody hand.
+
+"Kopf?" Scharfenstein cocked his revolver.
+
+The maid of honor placed her hands over her ears and screamed 
+again. Max gazed at her, and, with a short, Homeric laugh, 
+lowered the revolver.
+
+"Any time will do," he said. "Ah, he opens his eyes."
+
+The prisoner's eyes rolled wildly about. That frowning face 
+above him . . . was it a vision? Who was it? What was he doing 
+here?
+
+"Who put you up to this?" demanded Maurice.
+
+"You are choking me!"
+
+"Who, I say?"
+
+"Beauvais."
+
+Scharfenstein and von Mitter looked at each other 
+comprehensively.
+
+"Who is this Beauvais? Speak!"
+
+"I am dying, Herr . . . Your knees--"
+
+Maurice withdrew his knees. "Beauvais; who is he?"
+
+"Prince . . . Walmoden, formerly of the emperor's staff."
+
+Johann's eyes closed again, and his head fell to one side.
+
+"He looks as if he were done for," said Maurice, standing up. 
+"Let us clear up the rubbish and hitch a horse to the carriage. 
+The mate's all right."
+
+Von Mitter assisted the maid into the carriage and seated her.
+
+"Go and stay with her," said Maurice, brusquely; "you're half 
+fainting."
+
+"You are very handy, Carewe," said von Mitter gratefully, and he 
+climbed in beside the maid, who, her fright gone, gave way to 
+womanly instincts. She took her kerchief and wiped the 
+Lieutenant's cheek, pressing his hand in hers the while.
+
+Maurice and Scharfenstein worked away at the traces, and dragged 
+the dead horse to the side of the road. Scharfenstein brought 
+around von Mitter's horse, took oft the furnishings, and backed 
+him into the pole.
+
+Meanwhile the man lying by the water's edge showed signs of 
+returning life. He turned his head cautiously. His enemies were 
+a dozen yards away from him. Slowly he rolled over on his 
+stomach, thence to his knees. They were paying no attention to 
+him. . . .
+
+"Ho, there! the prisoner!" cried von Mitter, tumbling out of the 
+carriage. He tried to stand up, but a numbness seized his legs, 
+and he sank to a sitting posture.
+
+Maurice and Scharfenstein turned too late. Johann had mounted on 
+Scharfenstein's horse, and was flying away down the road. 
+Maurice coolly leveled his revolver and sent two bullets after 
+him. The second one caused Johann to straighten stiffly, then to 
+sink; but he hung on to the horse.
+
+"Hurry!" cried Maurice; "I've hit him and we'll find him along 
+the road somewhere."
+
+They lifted von Mitter into the carriage, wheeled it about, and 
+Scharfenstein mounted the box. Maurice sprang into his saddle, 
+and they clattered off toward the city.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+THE LAST STAND OF A BAD SERVANT
+
+The cuirassiers stationed in the guardroom of the royal palace 
+walked gently on the tiling, when occasion required them to walk,
+and when they entered or left the room, they were particularly 
+careful to avoid the chink of the spur or the clank of the saber.
+Although the royal bedchamber was many doors removed, the 
+Captain had issued a warning against any unnecessary noise. A 
+loud laugh, or the falling of a saber carelessly rested, drew 
+upon the unlucky offender the scowling eyes of the commander, 
+who reclined in front of the medieval fireplace, in which a 
+solitary log burned, and brooded over past and present. The high 
+revels in the guardroom were no more, the cuirassiers were no 
+longer made up of the young nobles of the kingdom; they were now 
+merely watch dogs.
+
+Twenty years ago the commander had come from Dresden as an 
+instructor in arms, and after the first year had watched over 
+the royal household, in the service of the late king and the 
+king who lay dying. He had come of good family, but others had 
+come oof better, and had carried of court honors, though his 
+post in early days had been envied by many. He was above all 
+else a soldier, the embodiment of patience and integrity, and he 
+scorned to murmur because fortune had passed over his head. As 
+he sucked at his pipe, he recalled the days of Albrecht and his 
+opera singers, the court scandals, and his own constant 
+employment as messenger in the king's love intrigues.
+
+Albrecht had died a widower and childless, and with him had died 
+the flower of court life. The courtiers and sycophants had 
+flocked to the standard of the duke, and had remained there, 
+primarily because Leopold of Osia promised a sedate and 
+exemplary life. Sometimes the Captain shook his head, as if 
+communing with some unpleasant thought. On each side of him sat 
+a soldier, also smoking and ruminating.
+
+At the mess table a dozen or so whiled away the time at cards. 
+The wavering lights of the candle and hearth cast warring 
+shadows on the wall and floor, and the gun and saber racks 
+twinkled. If the players spoke, it was in tones inaudible to the 
+Captain's ears.
+
+"Our bread and butter," said the Captain softly, "are likely to 
+take unto themselves the proverbial wings and fly away."
+
+No one replied. The Captain was a man who frequently spoke his 
+thoughts aloud, and required no one to reply to his disjointed 
+utterances.
+
+"A soldier of fortune," he went on, "pins his faith and zeal to 
+standards which to-day rise and to-morrow fall. Unfortunately, 
+he takes it at flood tide, which immediately begins to ebb."
+
+The men on either side of him nodded wisely.
+
+"The king can no longer speak. That is why the archbishop has 
+dismissed the cabinet. While he could speak, his Majesty refused 
+to listen to the downfall of his enemies. Why? Look to heaven; 
+heaven only can answer. How many men of the native troops are 
+quartered in these buildings? Not one--which is bad. Formerly 
+they were in the majority. Extraordinary. His Majesty would have 
+made friends with them, but the archbishop, an estimable man in 
+his robes, practically ostracized them. Bad, very bad. Had we 
+been comrades, there might be a different end.
+
+"Faugh! if one of us sticks his head into the city barracks a 
+breath of ice is our reward. Kronau never attends the receptions.
+A little flattery, which costs nothing, and they would have 
+been willing to die for his Majesty. Now--" He knocked his pipe 
+on the firedog. "Now, they would not lift a finger. A soldier 
+will forgive all things but premeditated neglect.
+
+"As for me, when the time comes I shall return to Dresden and 
+die of old age. Maybe, though, I shan't. When his Majesty dies 
+there is like to be a clash. The duchess is a clever woman, but 
+she would make a balky wife; a capillary affection which runs in 
+the family. Red hair in a man is useful; in a woman it is 
+unmanageable." He refilled his pipe and motioned toward the 
+tongs. The soldier nearest caught up a brand and held it out. 
+The Captain laid his pipe against it and drew. "It's a dreary 
+watch I have from ten till daylight, in his Majesty's 
+antechamber, but he will trust no other man at that post." And 
+with this he fell into silence.
+
+Some time passed. Twice the Captain pulled out his watch and 
+looked at it. Shortly after nine o'clock the beat of hoofs came 
+up the driveway, and the Captain turned his head toward the 
+entrance and waited. A moment later the door opened and three 
+men stood framed in the doorway. Two of them--one in civilian 
+dress--were endeavoring to hold up a third between them. The 
+central figure presented an alarming picture. His cuirass and 
+white trousers were splashed with blood, and his head rolled 
+from side to side, almost insensibly.
+
+"A thousand devils!" exclaimed the Captain at the sight of this 
+unexpected tableau. He sprang up, toppling over his chair. 
+"What's this? Von Mitter? Blood? Have those damned students--"
+
+"A brush on the lake road," interrupted Sharfenstein, 
+breathlessly. "Help him over to a chair, Monsieur Carewe. That's 
+it."
+
+"Have you a knife, Captain?" asked Maurice.
+
+The Captain whipped out his knife, locked it, and gave it to 
+Maurice. "Riemer," he called to one of the cuirassiers, who were 
+rising from the mess table, "bring out your box of instruments; 
+and you, Scharfenstein, a basin of cold water. Quick!"
+
+Maurice knelt and deftly cut away the Lieutenant's boot. A pool 
+of blood collected on the floor.
+
+"God save us!" cried the Captain, "his boot is full of blood." 
+He turned to Scharfenstein, who was approaching with the basin. 
+"What has happened, Max?"
+
+Scharfenstein briefly explained.
+
+"And Kopf?"
+
+"Got away, curse him!"
+
+"And the others?" with a lowering brow.
+
+"They all got away," adding an oath under his breath. Max set 
+the basin on the floor.
+
+"Bad, very bad. Why didn't you shoot?"
+
+"He was afraid of hitting Mademoiselle Bachelier," Maurice 
+interposed.
+
+Max threw him a grateful look.
+
+"Humph!" The Captain called his men around him. "Two of you--. 
+But wait. Who's back of Kopf?"
+
+"Our distinguished Colonel," snapped Max, "who was this day 
+relieved of his straps. A case of revenge, probably."
+
+"Beauvais! Ah, ah!" The Captain smiled grimly. He had always 
+hated Beauvais, who had, for no obvious reason, passed him and 
+grasped the coveted colonelcy, and because, curiously enough, 
+the native troops had made an idol of him. "Beauvais? I am not 
+surprised. An adventurer, with neither kith nor country."
+
+"He is Prince Walmoden," said Maurice, "and for some reason not 
+known, the emperor has promised to recall him."
+
+This information caused the Captain to step back, and he 
+muttered the name several times. "Austria. . . ." A gloom 
+settled on his face. "No matter. Prince or no prince, or had he 
+one thousand emperors behind him, no matter. Four of you seek 
+him and arrest him. If he offers resistance, knock him on the 
+head, but arrest him. A traitor is without name, country or 
+respect. His purpose . . . Never mind.
+
+"Four of you seek for Kopf. Look into Stuler's, in at the opera, 
+and follow Kopf's woman home. I'll take it upon myself to 
+telegraph the frontier to allow no one to cross on the pain of 
+being shot. Pass the word to the officers in the stables. Hurry 
+away before the archbishop hears of the matter. Away with you, 
+and quietly. And one of you seek that blockhead of a coachman, 
+who did not know enough to come back here and inform us. 
+Beauvais, make him a prisoner, you are not to know why. As for 
+Kopf, dead or alive--alive will be less convenient for all 
+concerned. Off with you!"
+
+The guardroom was at once emptied, and the cuirassiers turned 
+off toward the stables, where the main body of the troops was 
+stationed.
+
+Riemer, who was both surgeon and soldier, probed the wound in 
+von Miner's leg and extracted the bullet, which had lodged in 
+the fleshy part of the calf. He applied cold water, lints and 
+bandages. All the while von Mitter sat in the chair, his eyes 
+shut and his lips closed tightly.
+
+"There!" said the surgeon, standing up, "that's better. The loss 
+of blood is the worst part of it." Next he took a few stitches 
+in the cut on the cheek and threw his cloak over the wounded 
+man's knee. "He'll be all right in a day or so, though he'll 
+limp. Carl?"
+
+"O, I'm sound enough," answered von Mitter, opening his eyes. "A 
+little weak in the knees, that's all. I shouldn't have given in, 
+only Kopf got away when we had him fair and fast. We found his 
+horse wandering about the Frohngarten, but no sign of Johann. 
+He's got it, though, square in the back."
+
+"I'm sure of it," said Maurice, who leaned over the back of the 
+speaker's chair.
+
+The Captain eyed him inquiringly.
+
+"Pardon me," said Scharfenstein. "Captain, Monsieur Carewe, an 
+American tourist, formerly of the United States cavalry. And a 
+pretty shot, too, by the book! It would have gone badly with us 
+but for him."
+
+"My thanks," said the Captain, with a jerky nod. "Max, come, 
+give me the whole story."
+
+And Scharfenstein dropped into a chair and recounted in 
+picturesque diction the adventure; how they had remained by the 
+royal carriage till the nurse, recovering from her faint, had 
+rushed out and told them of the abduction; and the long race on 
+the south shore. While he listened the Captain smoked 
+thoughtfully; and when the story was done, he rose and wagged 
+his head.
+
+"Call it revenge," he said, "if it strikes you in that light. 
+Monsieur Carewe, what is your opinion?"
+
+"It occurs to me," answered Maurice, rubbing the scratch the 
+late Colonel's sword had left on his chin, "it occurs to me that 
+the man played his hand a few days too late."
+
+"Which is to say?"
+
+"Well, I do not call it revenge," Maurice admitted, unwilling to 
+venture any theory.
+
+"No more do I;" and the Captain began drumming on the mantel. 
+"What say, Max; how would the illustrious Colonel look with the 
+shadow of a crown on his head? He comes from Austria, who, to my 
+thinking, is cognizant of all he does and has done."
+
+The answer was not spoken. The door, leading to the main palace 
+through the kitchens, opened, and the Marshal, the princess, and 
+the maid of honor came down the steps. The Captain, Max and the 
+surgeon stood at salute. Maurice, however, drew back into the 
+shadows at the side of the grate. The old soldier gazed down at 
+the pale face of the young Lieutenant, and smiled kindly.
+
+"Even the best of soldiers make mistakes," he said; "even the 
+best. No," as von Mitter made an attempt to speak. "I've heard 
+all about it, and from a most reliable source," nodding toward 
+the anxious maid of honor. "Colonel," he addressed the Captain, 
+whose eyes started at this appellation, "Colonel, you will 
+report to me in the morning to assume your new duties. You have 
+been a faithful Captain and a good soldier. I know your value, 
+your name and your antecedents, which till now was more than I 
+knew of your late predecessor. Von Mitter will take upon himself 
+your duties as Captain of the household troop; and you, 
+Scharfenstein, will hereafter take charge of her Royal 
+Highness's carriage, and you may choose whom you will as your 
+comrade."
+
+"I have always tried to do my duty," said von Mitter. He felt a 
+small hand secretly press his.
+
+"And you have always succeeded, Captain," said a voice which 
+made Maurice's foolish heart leap. "See, I am the first to give 
+you your new rank. How you must suffer!"
+
+"God bless your Royal Highness!" murmured the fellow, at once 
+racked with pain and happiness. "But I am not the one you must 
+thank for this night's work."
+
+The Marshal peered at the silent figure beyond the fireplace. 
+Maurice was compelled to stand forth. "Ah!" said the Marshal.
+
+"Yes," went on von Mitter, "but for him no one knows what the 
+end might have been. And I, thinking him one of the abducting 
+party coming up from the rear, shot at him."
+
+The princess took a step forward, anxiety widening her dark eyes;
+and the swift glance added to the fever in the recipient's 
+veins. . . . How beautiful she was, and how far away! He laid 
+his hand on the top of von Mitter's chair.
+
+"Monsieur Carewe," said the Marshal, "seems to have plenty of 
+leisure time on his hands--fortunately for us. You were not hit?"
+
+"O, no," said Maurice, blushing. He had discerned an 
+undercurrent of raillery in the Marshal's tones. "The ball came 
+close to my ear, that was all. It is strange how that fellow got 
+away. I am positive that I hit him."
+
+"We shall find him," said the Marshal, with a look at the newly-
+appointed Colonel which said: "Your straps hang in the balance." 
+He rubbed his nose. "Well, is your Royal Highness satisfied that 
+there is no danger?"
+
+"Yes, Marshal; but think, if he should have been killed! Ah, 
+what does it all mean? What had this man against me, who have 
+always been kind to him?"
+
+"We shall, with your Highness's permission," said the Marshal, 
+"leave all questions to the future. Let us return to the 
+archbishop, who is doubtless awaiting the news. Take good care 
+of yourself, Captain. To-morrow, Colonel; good evening to you, 
+Monsieur Carewe;" and the terse old soldier proceeded to the 
+door and held it open for the women.
+
+"Good night, Messieurs," said her Highness. "I shall not forget. 
+Thanks to you, Captain." One more glance, and she was gone. But 
+this glance blossomed in one heart into a flower of hope.
+
+The Marshal, having closed the door behind the women, returned 
+to the group before the fireplace. They watched him interestedly.
+
+"Colonel," he said, "make no effort to seek Beauvais. As for 
+Kopf, that is different. But Beauvais--"
+
+"To let him go?" exclaimed the Colonel in dismay.
+
+"Aye, to let him go. We do not seek bears with birdshot, and 
+that is all we have. He will leave the country."
+
+"And go to the duchy!"
+
+"So much the better; when the time comes, our case against him 
+will be so much the stronger. Mind you, this is not from 
+sentiment. I have none," glaring around to see if any dared 
+refute this assertion. "It is policy, and Monseigneur concurs 
+with me."
+
+"But I have sent men after him!" cried the Colonel, in keen 
+disappointment.
+
+"Send men after them to rescind the order."
+
+"And if they should catch him?"
+
+"Let him go; that is my order. The servant will be sufficient 
+for our needs. Monsieur Carewe, I rely on your discretion;" and 
+the Marshal passed into the kitchens.
+
+The men looked at each other in silence. A moment later the 
+Colonel dashed from the room, off to the stables.
+
+"Well, I'm off," said Maurice. The desire to tell what he knew 
+was beginning to master him. It was too late now, he saw that. 
+Besides, they might take it into their heads to detain him. He 
+put on his hat. "Good night; and good luck to your leg, Captain."
+
+"Till to-morrow," said von Mitter, who had taken a fancy to the 
+smooth-faced young American, who seemed at home in all places.
+
+"I am going away to-morrow," said Maurice, pressing the 
+Lieutenant's hand. "I shall return in a day or so."
+
+He led his horse to the hotel stables, lit a fresh cigar and 
+promenaded the terrace. "Some day," he mused, "perhaps I'll be 
+able to do something for myself. To-morrow we'll take a look at 
+Fitzgerald's affairs, like the good fairy we are. If the Colonel 
+is there, so much the worse for one or the other of us." He 
+laughed contentedly. "Beauvais took my warning and lit out, or 
+his henchman would never have made a botch of the abduction. It 
+is my opinion that Madame wanted a hostage, for it is impossible 
+to conceive that the man made the attempt on his own 
+responsibility. I shall return to the duchy in a semi-official 
+character as an envoy extraordinary to look into the whereabouts 
+of one Lord Fitzgerald. Devil take me, but I did make a mess of 
+it when I slapped him on the shoulder that night." The princess 
+had not addressed a word to him. Why?
+
+When the princess and her maid of honor had passed through the 
+kitchens into the princess's boudoir, the maid suddenly caught 
+her mistress's hand and imprinted a hasty kiss on it, to the 
+latter's surprise and agitation. There was something in that 
+kiss which came nearer to sincere affection than Mademoiselle 
+Bachelier had ever shown before.
+
+"Camille?"
+
+"God bless your Highness!" whispered the girl, again pressing 
+the cold hand to her lips. What had given rise to this new-born 
+affection she herself could not say, but a sudden wave of pity 
+rushed into her heart. Perhaps it was because she loved and was 
+loved that caused this expansion of heart toward her mistress, 
+who was likely never to love or beget love, who stood so lonely. 
+Tears came into her eyes.
+
+"You are hysterical!" said the princess.
+
+"No; it is because--because--" She stopped and a blush suffused 
+her face and temples.
+
+The princess took the face between her hands and gazed long and 
+earnestly into it. "Have you discovered a belated pity in your 
+heart for me? Or is it because you thought him wounded unto 
+death, and he was not?"
+
+"It is both!" weeping.
+
+The princess put her arms around the maid. "And you weep for 
+happiness? Let us weep together, then; only--I can not weep for 
+happiness."
+
+To return to the flight of Kopf. As he dashed down the road he 
+heard two reports. At the second he experienced a terrible 
+burning blow under the right shoulder-blade, and immediately his 
+arm became paralyzed. He coughed. With a supreme effort he 
+managed to recover his balance. Already his collar-bone had been 
+cracked by a bullet either from von Mitter or from Scharfenstein.
+
+"God's curse on them all!" he sobbed, pushing his knees into his 
+horse; "God's curse!" He bit his lips; and when he drew his 
+breath the pain which followed almost robbed him of his senses. 
+Behind him the sound of hoofs came no nearer; he had a chance. 
+He could not look back to see if he gained, however, as his neck 
+was stiffening.
+
+"Curse him and his damned gold! He never warned me as he said he 
+would." On he rode. The moon became obscured, and when it 
+flashed again he could see it but indistinctly. . . . To reach 
+the city, to reach Gertrude's, to give the horse a cut and send 
+him adrift, this was his endeavor. But would he reach the city--
+alive? Was he dying? He could not see . . . Yet again he shut 
+his jaws and drew on his entire strength. He was keeping in the 
+saddle by will power alone. If the horse faltered he was lost. 
+To Gertrude; she could use them. And after all he loved her. If 
+he died she would be provided for.
+
+The first of the city lamps. He sobbed. Into this street he 
+turned, into that, expecting each moment to be challenged, for 
+the white saddle blanket of the cuirassiers stood out 
+conspicuously. At last he had but a corner to turn. He stopped, 
+slid from the saddle and gave the animal a cut across the face. 
+The horse reared, then plunged forward at a wild gallop. Johann 
+staggered along the street, fumbling in his pockets for his keys.
+
+Gertrude of the opera company was usually in the ballet. To-
+night she had left the stage after the first dance. She had 
+complained of a severe headache, and as the manager knew her 
+worth he had permitted her withdrawal from the corps. She lived 
+off the Frohngarten, in an apartment on the second floor, over a 
+cheap restaurant. She was bathing her temples in perfumed 
+ammonia water, when she heard footsteps in the corridor, and 
+later the rasp of a key in the lock. As the door opened she 
+beheld a spectacle which caused her to scream.
+
+"Hush! Gertrude, I am dying. . . . Brandy! I must talk to you! 
+Silence!" Johann tottered to a lounge and dropped on his side.
+
+The woman, still trembling with fright and terror, poured into 
+her palm some of the pungent liquid with which she had been 
+bathing her temples, and held it under his nose. It revived him. 
+And in a few broken sentences he made known to her what had 
+happened.
+
+"Gertrude, I am lost!" He breathed with difficulty. "I have 
+lived like a rascal, and I die like one. But I have always loved 
+you; I have always been true to you; I have never beaten nor 
+robbed you." His eyes closed.
+
+"O God," she cried, "what shall I do? Johann, you must not die! 
+We will leave the country together. Johann, you do not speak! 
+Johann!" She kissed him, pressed him in her arms, regardless of 
+the stains which these frantic fondlings gathered from his 
+breast. "Johann!"
+
+"Rich," he said dreamily; "rich . . . and to die like a dog!"
+
+She left him and rushed to the sideboard, poured out a tumbler 
+of brandy, and returned to his side. She raised his head, but he 
+swallowed with effort.
+
+"In the lungs," he said. "God! how it burns! Rich; we are rich, 
+Gertrude; a hundred thousand crowns. . . . And I am dying! . . . 
+What a failure! Curse them all; they never offered to lend a 
+hand unless it led toward hell! Gertrude . . . I must tell you. 
+Here; here, put your hand in this pocket; yes. Draw them out. . .
+A hundred thousand crowns!"
+
+The woman shuddered. Her hand and what it held were wet with 
+blood.
+
+"Hide them!" And Johann fainted away for the second time. When 
+he came to his senses, several minutes had passed. Quickly, with 
+what remaining strength he had, he unfolded his plan.
+
+And her one idea was to save him. She drenched her handkerchief 
+with the ammonia, and bade him hold it to his nose, while she 
+fetched a basin of water and a sponge. Tenderly she drew back 
+his coat and washed the blood from his throat and lips, and 
+moistened his hair.
+
+"Listen!" he cried suddenly, rising on his elbow. "It is they! 
+They have found me! Quick! to the roof!" He struggled to his 
+feet, with that strength which imparts itself to dying men, 
+super-human while it lasts. He threw one arm around her neck. 
+"Help me!"
+
+And thus they gained the hall, mounted the flight to the roof, 
+he groaning and urging, she sobbing, hysterical, and frenzied. 
+She climbed the ladder with him, threw back the trap, and helped 
+him on the roof.
+
+"Now leave me!" he said, kissing her hand.
+
+She gave him her lips, and went down to her rooms, and waited 
+and waited. This agony of suspense lasted a quarter of an hour, 
+when again came the clatter of hoofs. Would this, too, prove a 
+false alarm? She held her hand to her ear. If he were dying. . . 
+They had stopped; they were mounting the stairs; O God, they 
+were beating on the door!
+
+"Open!" cried a voice without; "open in the king's name!"
+
+She gasped, but words would not come. She clenched her hands 
+until the nails sank into the flesh.
+
+"Open, Madame, or down comes the door."
+
+The actress in her came to the rescue. The calm of despair took 
+possession of her.
+
+"In a moment, Messieurs," she said. Her voice was without 
+agitation. She opened the door and the cuirassiers pushed past 
+her. "In heaven's name, Messieurs, what does this mean?"
+
+"We want Johann Kopf," was the answer, "and we have it from good 
+authority that he is here. Do not interfere with us; you are in 
+no wise connected with the affair."
+
+"He is not here," she replied. She wondered at herself, her 
+tones were so even, her mind was so clear.
+
+One of the cuirassiers caught up her gown. "What's this, 
+Madame?" he demanded, pointing to the dark wet stains; "and 
+this?" to her hands, "and this?" to the spots on the carpet, the 
+basin and the sponge. "To the roof, men; he has gone by the roof!
+Up with you!"
+
+The ballet dancer held forth her hands in supplication; life 
+forsook her limbs; she sank.
+
+The cuirassiers rushed to the roof. . . . When they came down it 
+was slowly and carefully. What they had found on the roof was of 
+no use to them. They laid the inanimate thing on the lounge, and 
+frowned. One of the cuirassiers lifted the ballet dancer and 
+carried her into her bed-room, and laid her on the bed. He had 
+not the heart to revive her. Death softens all angers; even an 
+enemy is no longer such when dead. And Johann Kopf was dead.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+A COURT FETE AT THE RED CHATEAU
+
+At eight o'clock of the following evening, that is to say, the 
+nineteenth of September, Maurice mounted the Thalian pass and 
+left the kingdom in the valley behind him. He was weary, dusty, 
+lame and out of humor; besides, he had a new weight on his 
+conscience. The night before he had taken the life of a man. 
+True, this had happened before, but always in warfare. He had 
+killed in a moment of rage and chagrin a poor devil who was at 
+most only a puppet. There was small credit in the performance. 
+However, the rascal would have suffered death in any event, his 
+act being one of high treason.
+
+In the long ride he had made up his mind to lock away forever 
+the silly dream, the tender, futile, silly dream. All men die 
+with secrets locked in their hearts; thus he, too, would die. 
+His fancy leaped across the chasm of intervening years to the 
+day of his death, and the thought was a happy one! He smiled 
+sadly, as young men smile when they pity themselves. He knew 
+that he would never get over it--in a day. But to-morrow, or to-
+morrow's to-morrow . .
+
+He took the pass's decline; the duchy spread away toward the 
+south. A quarter of a mile below him he saw the barrack and the 
+customs office which belonged to Madame the duchess. The 
+corporal inspected him and his papers, spoke lowly to the 
+customs inspector, who returned to his office.
+
+"It is all right, Monsieur Carewe," said the corporal; "I ought 
+to recognize the horse a mile away. You will arrive just in time."
+
+"Just in time for what?"
+
+"Ah, true. Her Highness gives a grand ball at the chateau to-
+night. The court has arrived from Brunnstadt. Some will reside 
+at the chateau, some at General Duckwitz's, others at the 
+Countess Herzberg's."
+
+"Has the duchess arrived at last, then?" was the cynical inquiry.
+
+"She will arrive this evening," answered the corporal, grinning. 
+"A pleasant journey to you."
+
+Maurice proceeded. "And that blockhead of an Englishman has not 
+tumbled yet! The court here? A grand ball? What else can it mean 
+but that Madame is celebrating a victory to come? If the 
+archbishop has those consols, she will wage war; and this is the 
+prelude." He jogged along. He had accomplished a third of the 
+remaining distance, when he was challenged. The sentry came 
+forward and scrutinized the rider.
+
+"O, it is Monsieur Carewe !" he cried in delighted tones. He 
+touched his cap and fell back into the shadows.
+
+A mile farther, and the great chateau, scintillating with lights,
+loomed up against the yellow sky. He felt a thrill of excitement.
+Doubtless there would be some bright passages before the night 
+drew to a close. He would make furious love to the pretty 
+countess; it would be something in the way of relaxation. How 
+would they greet him? What would be Madame's future plans in 
+regard to Fitzgerald? How would she get him out of the way, now 
+that he had served her purpose? He laughed.
+
+"The future promises much," he said, half aloud. "I am really 
+glad that I came back."
+
+"Halt!"
+
+Maurice drew up. A sentry stepped out into the road.
+
+"O, it is Monsieur Carewe!" he cried. With a short laugh he 
+disappeared.
+
+"Hang me," grumbled Maurice as he went on, "these fellows have 
+remarkable memories. I can't recollect any of them." He was 
+mystified.
+
+Shortly he came upon the patrol. The leader ordered him to 
+dismount, an order be obeyed willingly, for he was longing to 
+stand again. He shook his legs, while the leader struck a match.
+
+"Why, it is Monsieur Carewe!" he cried. "Good! We are coming out 
+to meet you. This is a pleasure indeed."
+
+Maurice gazed keenly into the speaker's face, and to his 
+surprise beheld the baron whose arm he had broken a fortnight 
+since. He climbed on his horse again.
+
+"I am glad you deem it a pleasure, baron," he said dryly. "From 
+what you imply, I should judge that you were expecting me."
+
+"Nothing less! Your departure from Bleiberg was known to us as 
+early as two o'clock this after-noon," answered the baron. 
+"Permit us to escort you to the chateau before the ladies see 
+you. 'Tis a gala night; we are all in our best bib and tucker, 
+as the English say. We believed at one time that you were not 
+going to honor us with a second visit. Now to dress, both of us; 
+at ten Madame the duchess arrives with General Duckwitz and 
+Colonel Mollendorf, who is no relation to the late minister of 
+police in Bleiberg."
+
+Underneath all this Maurice discerned a shade of mockery, and it 
+disturbed him.
+
+"First, I should like to know--" he began.
+
+"Later, later!" cried the baron. "The gates are but a dozen rods 
+away. To your room first; the rest will follow."
+
+"The only clothes I have with me are on my back," said Maurice.
+
+"We shall arrange that. Your guard-hussar uniform has been 
+reserved for you, at the suggestion of the Colonel."
+
+And Maurice grew more and more disturbed.
+
+"Were they courteous to you on the road?"
+
+"Yes. But--"
+
+"Patience! Here we are at the rear gates."
+
+Maurice found it impossible to draw back; three troopers blocked 
+the rear, the baron and another rode at his sides, and four more 
+were in advance. The rear gates swung open, and the little troop 
+passed into the chateau confines. Maurice snatched a glimpse of 
+the front lawns and terraces. The trees and walls were hung with 
+Chinese lanterns; gay uniforms and shimmering gowns flitted 
+across his vision. Somewhere within the chateau an orchestra was 
+playing the overture from "Linda di Chamounix." Indeed, with all 
+these brave officers, old men in black bedecked with ribbons, 
+handsome women in a brilliant sparkle of jewels, it had the 
+semblance of a gay court. It was altogether a different scene 
+from that which was called the court of Bleiberg. There was no 
+restraint here; all was laughter, music, dancing, and wines. The 
+women were young, the men were young; old age stood at one side 
+and looked on. And the charming Voiture-verse of a countess, 
+Maurice was determined to seek her first of all. He vaguely 
+wondered how Fitzgerald would carry himself throughout the ordeal.
+
+The troopers dismounted in the courtyard.
+
+"I'm a trifle too stiff to dance," Maurice innocently 
+acknowledged.
+
+The baron laughed. "You will have to take luck with me in the 
+stable-barrack; the chateau is filled. The armory has been 
+turned into a ballroom, and the guard out of it."
+
+"Lead on!" said Maurice.
+
+At the entrance to the guardroom, which occupied the left wing 
+of the stables, stood a Lieutenant of the hussars.
+
+"This is Monsieur Carewe," said the baron, "who will occupy a 
+corner in the guardroom."
+
+"Ah! Monsieur Carewe," waving his hand cavalierly; "happy to see 
+you again."
+
+Maurice was growing weary of his name.
+
+"Enter," said the baron, opening the door.
+
+Maurice entered, but not without suspicion. However, he was in a 
+hurry to mingle with the gay assembly in the chateau. But that 
+body was doomed to proceed without the honor or the knowledge of 
+his distinguished presence. Several troopers were lounging about.
+At the sight of the baron they rose.
+
+"Messieurs," he said, "this is Monsieur Carewe, who was expected."
+
+"Glad to see you!" they sang out in chorus. They bowed 
+ironically.
+
+Maurice gazed toward the door. As he did so four pairs of arms 
+enveloped him, and before he could offer the slightest 
+resistance, he was bound hand and foot, a scarf was tied over 
+his mouth, and he was pushed most disrespectfully into a chair. 
+The baron's mouth was twisted out of shape, and the troopers 
+were smiling.
+
+"My faith! but this is the drollest affair I ever was in;" and 
+the baron sat on the edge of the table and held his sides. 
+"Monsieur Carewe! Ha! ha! You are a little too stiff to dance, 
+eh? Shall I tender your excuses to the ladies? Ass! did you 
+dream for a moment that such canaille as you, might show your 
+countenance to any save the scullery maids? Too stiff to dance! 
+Ye gods, but that was rich! And you had the audacity to return 
+here! I must go; the thing is killing me." He slipped off the 
+table, red in the face and choking. "The telegraph has its uses; 
+it came ahead of you. We trembled for fear you would not come! 
+Men, guard him as your lives, while I report to Madame, I dare 
+say she will make it droller in the telling."
+
+He stepped to the door, turned, looking into the prisoner's 
+glaring eyes; he doubled up again. "We are quits; I forgive you 
+the broken arm; this laugh will repay me. How Madame the 
+countess will laugh! And Duckwitz--the General will die of 
+apoplexy! O, but you are a sorry ass; and how neatly we have 
+clipped your ears!" And into the corridor he went, still 
+laughing, heartily and joyously, as if what had taken place was 
+one of the finest jests in the world.
+
+Maurice, white and furious, was positive that he never would 
+laugh again. And the most painful thought was that his honesty 
+had brought him to this pass--or, was it his curiosity?
+
+*   *   *   *   *
+
+Fitzgerald stood alone in the library. The music of a Strauss 
+waltz came indistinctly to him. He was troubled, and the speech 
+of it lay in his eyes. From time to time he drummed on the 
+window sill, and followed with his gaze the shadowy forms on the 
+lawns. He was not a part of this fairy scene. He was out of 
+place. So many young and beautiful women eyeing him curiously 
+confused him. In every glance he innocently read his disgrace.
+
+At Madame's request he had dressed himself in the uniform of a 
+Lieutenant-Colonel, which showed how deeply he was in the toils. 
+Though it emphasized the elegant proportions of his figure, it 
+sat uncomfortably upon him. His vanity was not equal to his 
+sense of guilt. The uniform was a livery of dishonor. He could 
+not distort it into a virtue, try as he would. He lacked that 
+cunning artifice which a man of the world possesses, that of 
+winning over to the right a misdeed.
+
+And Carewe, on whose honesty he would have staked his life, 
+Carewe had betrayed him. Why, he could not conceive. He saw how 
+frail his house of love was. A breath and it was gone. What he 
+had until to-day deemed special favors were favors common to all 
+these military dandies. They, too, could kiss Madame's hand, and 
+he could do no more. And yet she held him. Did she love him? He 
+could not tell. All he knew was that it was impossible not to 
+love her. And to-night he witnessed the culmination of the woman 
+beautiful, and it dazzled him, filled him with fears and 
+oppressions. . . . To bind her hand and foot, to carry her by 
+force to the altar, if need; to call her his in spite of all.
+
+If she were playing with him, making a ball of his heart and her 
+fancy a cup, she knew not of the slumbering lion within. He 
+himself was but dimly conscious of it. Princess? That did not 
+matter. Since that morning the veil had fallen from his eyes, 
+but he had said nothing; he was waiting for her to speak. Would 
+she laugh at him? No, no! The knowledge that had come to him had 
+transformed wax into iron. Princess? She was the woman who had 
+promised to be his wife.
+
+Only two candles burned on the mantel-piece. The library was a 
+room apart from the festivities. A soft, rose-colored darkness 
+pervaded the room. Presently a darker shadow tiptoed over the 
+threshold. He turned, and the shadow approached. Madame's gray 
+eyes, full of lambent fires, looked into his own.
+
+"I was seeking you," she said. The jewels in her hair threw a 
+kind of halo above her head.
+
+"Have I the happiness to be necessary to you?" he asked.
+
+"You have not been enjoying yourself."
+
+"No, Madame; my conscience is, unhappily, too green." He turned 
+to the window again for fear he would lose control of himself.
+
+"I have a confession to make to you," she said humbly. How broad 
+his shoulders were, was her thought.
+
+"It can not concern me," he replied.
+
+"How?"
+
+"There is only one confession which I care to hear. You made it 
+once, though you are not willing to repeat it. But I have your 
+word, Sylvia; I am content. Not all the world could make me 
+believe that you would willingly retract that word."
+
+Her name, for the first time coming from his lips, caused her to 
+start. She sent him a penetrating glance, but it broke on a face 
+immobile as marble.
+
+"I do not recollect granting you permission to use my given name,"
+she said.
+
+"O, that was before the world. But alone, alone as we are, you 
+and I, it is different." The smile which accompanied these words 
+was frankness itself, but it did not deceive Madame, who read 
+his eyes too well. "Ali, but the crumbs you give this love of 
+mine are so few!" "You are the only man in the world permitted 
+to avow love to me. You have kissed my hand."
+
+"A privilege which seems extended to all."
+
+Madame colored, but there was not light enough for him to 
+perceive it.
+
+"The , hand you kissed is the hand of the woman; others kiss it 
+to pay homage. Monsieur, 'forgive me for having deceived you, 
+you were so easy to deceive." His eyes met hers steadily.
+
+"I am not Madame simply. I am Stephonia Sylvia Auersperg; the name
+I assumed was my mother's." His lack of surprise alarmed her.
+
+"I am well aware of that," he said. "You are the duchess."
+
+Something in his tone warned her of a crisis, and she put forth 
+her cunning to avert it. "And. you-you will not love me less?" 
+her voice vibrant as the string of a viol. "I am a princess, but 
+yet a woman. In me there are two, the woman and the princess. 
+The princess is proud and ambitious; to gain her ends she stops 
+at nothing. As a princess she may stoop to trickery and deceit, 
+and step back untouched. But the woman-ah, well; for this 
+fortnight I have been most of all the woman."
+
+"And all this to me-is a preamble to my dismissal, since my 
+promise remains unfulfilled? Madame, do not think that because 
+fate has willed that my promise should become void, that my 
+conscience acquits me of dishonor. For love of you I have thrown 
+honor to the winds. But do I regret it? No. For I am mad, and 
+being mad, I am not capable of reason. I have broken all those 
+ties which bind a man's respect to himself. I have burned all 
+bridges, but I laugh at that. It is only with the knowledge that 
+your love is mine that I can hold high my head.
+
+"As the princess in you is proud, so is the man in me. A 
+princess? That is nothing; I love you. Were you the empress of 
+all the Russias, the most unapproachable woman in the world, I 
+should not hesitate to profess my love, to find some means of 
+declaring it to you. I love you. To what further depths can I 
+fall to prove it?" Again he sought the window, and leaned 
+heavily on the sill. He waited, as a man waits for an expected 
+blow.
+
+As she listened a delicious sensation swept through her heart, a 
+sensation elusive and intangible. She surrendered without 
+question. At this moment the Eve in her evaded all questions. 
+Here was a man. The mood which seized her was as novel as this 
+love which asked nothing but love, and the willingness to pay 
+any price; and the desire to test both mood and love to their 
+full strength was irresistible. She was loved for herself alone; 
+hitherto men had loved the woman less and the princess more. To 
+surrender to both mood and love, if only for an hour or a day, 
+to see to what length this man would go at a sign from her.
+
+He was almost her equal in birth; his house was nearly if not 
+quite as old and honored as her own; in his world he stood as 
+high as she stood in hers. She had never committed an 
+indiscretion; passion had never swayed her; until now she had 
+lived by calculation. As she looked at him, she knew that in all 
+her wide demesne no soldier could stand before him and look 
+straight into his eyes. So deep and honest a book it was, so 
+easily readable, that she must turn to its final pages. Love 
+him? No. Be his wife? No. She recognized that it was the feline 
+instinct to play which dominated her. Consequences? Therein lay 
+the charm of it.
+
+"Patience, Monsieur," she said. "Did I promise to be your wife? 
+Did I say that I loved you? ~Eh, bien~, the woman, not the 
+princess, made those vows. I am mistress not only of my duchy, 
+but of my heart." She ceased and regarded him with watchful eves.
+He did not turn. "Look at me, John!" The voice was of such 
+winning sweetness that St. Anthony himself, had he heard it, 
+must have turned. "Look at me and see if I am more a princess 
+than a woman."
+
+He wheeled swiftly. She was leaning toward him, her face was 
+upturned. No jewel in her hair was half so lustrous as her eyes. 
+From the threaded ruddy ore of her hair rose a perfume like the 
+fabulous myrrhs of Olympus. Her lips were a cup of wine, and her 
+eyes bade him drink, and the taste of that wine haunted him as 
+long as he lived. He made as though to drain the cup, but Madame 
+pushed down his arms, uttered a low, puzzled laugh, and vanished 
+from the room. He was lost! He knew it; yet he did not care. He 
+threw out his arms, dropped them, and settled his shoulders. A 
+smile, a warm, contented smile, came into his face and dwelt 
+there. For another such kiss he would have bartered eternity.
+
+And Madame? Who can say?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+IN WHICH MAURICE RECURS TO OFFENBACH
+
+Midnight; the music had ceased, and the yellow and scarlet 
+lanterns had been plucked from the autumnal hangings. The 
+laughing, smiling, dancing women, like so many Cinderellas, had 
+disappeared, and with them the sparkle of jewels; and the 
+gallant officers had ridden away to the jingle of bit and spur. 
+Throughout the courtly revel all faces had revealed, besides the 
+happiness and lightness of spirit, a suppressed eagerness for 
+something yet to come, an event surpassing any they had yet 
+known.
+
+Promptly at midnight Madame herself had dropped the curtains on 
+the gay scene because she had urgent need of all her military 
+household at dawn, when a picture, far different from that which 
+had just been painted, was to be limned on the broad canvas of 
+her dreams. Darkness and quiet had fallen on the castle, and the 
+gray moon film lay on terrace and turret and tile.
+
+In the guardroom, Maurice, his hands and feet still in pressing 
+cords, dozed in his chair. He had ceased to combat drowsiness. 
+He was worn out with his long ride, together with the chase of 
+the night before; and since a trooper had relieved his mouth of 
+the scarf so that he could breathe, he cared not what the future 
+held, if only he might sleep. It took him a long time to arrive 
+at the angle of comfort; this accomplished, he drifted into 
+smooth waters. The troopers who constituted his guard played 
+cards at a long table, in the center of which were stuck half a 
+dozen bayonets, which served as candlesticks. They laughed 
+loudly, thumped the board, and sometimes sang. No one bothered 
+himself about the prisoner, who might have slept till the crack 
+of doom, as far as they were concerned.
+
+Shortly before the new hour struck, the door opened and shut. A 
+trooper shook the sleeper by the sleeve. Maurice awoke with a 
+start and gazed about, blinking his eyes. Before him he 
+discovered Madame the duchess, Fitzgerald and Mollendorf, behind 
+whom stood the Voiture-verse of a countess. The languor forsook 
+him and he pulled himself together and sat as upright as his 
+bonds would permit him. Something interesting was about to take 
+place.
+
+Madame made a gesture which the troopers comprehended, and they 
+departed. Fitzgerald, with gloomy eyes, folded his arms across 
+his breast, and with one hand curled and uncurled the drooping 
+ends of his mustache; the Colonel frowned and rubbed the gray 
+bristles on his upper lip; the countess twisted and untwisted 
+her handkerchief; Madame alone evinced no agitation, unless the 
+perpendicular line above her nose could have been a sign of such.
+This lengthened and deepened as her glance met the prisoner's.
+
+He eyed them all with an indifference which was tinctured with 
+contempt and amusement.
+
+"Well, Monsieur Carewe," said Madame, coldly, "what have you to 
+say?"
+
+"A number of things, Madame," he answered, in a tone which 
+bordered the insolent; "only they would not be quite proper for 
+you to hear."
+
+The Colonel's hand slid from his lip over his mouth; he shuffled 
+his feet and stared at the bayonets and the grease spots on the 
+table.
+
+"Carewe," said Fitzgerald, endeavoring to speak calmly, "you 
+have broken your word to me as a gentleman and you have lied to me."
+
+The reply was an expressive monosyllable, "O!"
+
+"Do you deny it?" demanded the Englishman.
+
+"Deny what?" asked Maurice.
+
+"The archbishop," said Madame, "assumed the aggressive last 
+night. To be aggressive one must possess strength. Monsieur, how 
+much did he pay for those consols? Come, tell me; was he 
+liberal? It is evident that you are not a man of business. I 
+should have been willing to pay as much as a hundred thousand 
+crowns. Come; acknowledge that you have made a bad stroke." She 
+bent her head to one side, and a derisive smile lifted the 
+corners of her lips.
+
+A dull red flooded the prisoner's cheeks. "I do not understand you."
+
+"You lie!" Fitzgerald stepped closer and his hands closed 
+menacingly.
+
+"Thank you," said Maurice, "thank you. But why not complete the 
+melodrama by striking, since you have doubled your fists?"
+
+Fitzgerald glared at him.
+
+"Monsieur," interposed the countess, "do not forget that you are 
+a gentleman; Monsieur Carewe's hands are tied."
+
+"Unfortunately," observed Maurice.
+
+Madame looked curiously at the countess, while Fitzgerald drew 
+back to the table and rested on it.
+
+"I can not comprehend how you dared return," Madame resumed. 
+"One who watches over my affairs has informed me of your 
+dishonorable act."
+
+"What do you call a dishonorable act?" Maurice inquired quietly.
+
+"One who breaks his sacred promise!" quickly.
+
+The prisoner laughed maliciously. Madame had answered the 
+question as he hoped she would. "Chickens come home to roost. 
+What do you say to that, my lord?" to the Englishman.
+
+This time it was not the prisoner's cheeks which reddened. Even 
+Madame was forced to look away, for if this reply touched the 
+Englishman it certainly touched her as deeply. Incidentally, she 
+was asking herself why she had permitted the Englishman to 
+possess her lips, hers, which no man save her father had ever 
+possessed before. A kiss, that was all it had been, yet the 
+memory of it was persistent, annoying, embarrassing. In the 
+spirit of play--a spirit whose origin mystified her--she had 
+given the man something which she never could regain, a particle 
+of her pride.
+
+Besides, this was not all; she had in that moment given up her 
+right to laugh at him when the time came; now she would not be 
+able to laugh. She regretted the folly, and bit her lip at the 
+thought of it. Consequences she had laughed at; now their 
+possibilities disturbed her. She had been guilty of an 
+indiscretion. The fact that the Englishman had ruined himself at 
+her beck did not enter her mind. The hour for that had not yet 
+arrived.
+
+Seeing that his neat barb had left them all without answer, 
+Maurice said: "Doubtless the informant who watches over your 
+interests and various other interests of which you have no 
+inkling, was the late Colonel Beauvais? For my part, I wish it 
+was the late Beauvais in the sense in which we refer to the 
+departed ones. But let us give him his true name--Prince Konrad, 
+the last of the Walmodens, a cashiered gamester."
+
+Only Fitzgerald showed any surprise. Maurice once saw that the 
+others were in the secret. They knew the Colonel. Did they know 
+why he was in Bleiberg? Let them find it out for themselves. He 
+would not lift a finger to aid them. He leaned back and yawned.
+
+"Pardon me," he said, with mock politeness, "but my hands are 
+tied, and the truth is, I am sleepy."
+
+"Count," said Madame, "release him. He will be too well guarded 
+to fear his escaping."
+
+The Colonel performed this service with alacrity. He honestly 
+admired the young fellow who so seldom lost his temper. Besides, 
+he had a sneaking idea that the lad was being unjustly accused.
+
+Maurice got up and stretched himself. He rubbed his wrists, then 
+sat down and waited for the comedy to proceed.
+
+"So you confess," said Madame, "that you sold the consols to the 
+archbishop?"
+
+"I, confess?" Maurice screwed up his lips and began to whistle 
+softly:
+
+"Voici le sabre de mon Pere."
+
+"You deny, then?" Madame was fast losing patience, a grave 
+mistake when one is dealing with a banterer.
+
+Maurice changed the tune:
+
+"J'aime les militaires, Leur uniforme coquet, Leur moustache et 
+leur plumet--"
+
+"Answer!" with a stamp of the foot.
+
+"Je sais ce que je voudrais, Je voudrais etre cantiniere!" . . .
+
+"Monsieur," said the pretty countess, after a furtive glance at 
+Madame's stormy eyes, "do you deny?"
+
+The whistle ceased. "Madame, to you I shall say that I neither 
+deny nor affirm. The affair is altogether too ridiculous to 
+treat seriously. I have nothing to say." The whistle picked up 
+the thread again.
+
+Doubt began to stir in the eyes of the Englishman. He looked at 
+Madame with a kind of indecision, to find that she was glancing 
+covertly at him. His gaze finally rested on Maurice, who had 
+crossed his legs and was keeping time to the music with his foot.
+Indeed, these were not the violent protestations of innocence 
+he had looked for. This demeanor was not at all in accord with 
+his expectations. Now that he had possessed Madame's lips 
+(though she might never possess the consols), Maurice did not 
+appear so guilty.
+
+"Carewe," he said, "you have deceived me from the start."
+
+"Ah! c'est un fameux regiment, Le regiment de la Grande Duchesse!"
+
+"You knew that Madame was her Highness," went on the Englishman, 
+"and yet you kept that a secret from me. Can you blame me if I 
+doubt you in other respects?"
+
+"Sonnez donc la trompette, Et battez les tambours!"
+
+And the warbler nodded significantly at Madame, whose frown grew 
+still darker.
+
+"Eh! Monsieur," cried the Colonel, with a protesting hand, "you 
+are out of tune!"
+
+"I should like to know why you returned here," said Madame. 
+"Either you have some plan, or your audacity has no bounds."
+
+The whistle stopped again. "Madame, for once we agree. I, too, 
+should like to know why I returned here."
+
+"Carewe," said Fitzgerald, "if you will give me your word--"
+
+"Do not waste your breath, Monsieur," interrupted Madame.
+
+"Will you give me your word?" persisted Fitzgerald, refusing to 
+see the warning in Madame's eyes.
+
+"I will give you nothing, my lord; nothing. I have said that I 
+will answer neither one way nor the other. The accusation is too 
+absurd. Now, Madame, what is your pleasure in regard to my 
+disposition?"
+
+"You are to be locked up, Monsieur," tartly. "You are too 
+inquisitive to remain at large."
+
+"My confinement will be of short duration," confidently.
+
+"It rests with my pleasure alone."
+
+"Pardon me if I contradict your Highness. I returned here 
+incidentally as a representative of the British ambassador in 
+Vienna; I volunteered this office at the request of my own 
+minister."
+
+A shade of consternation came into the faces of his audience.
+
+"If nothing is heard of me within two days, an investigation 
+will ensue. It is very droll, but I am here to inquire into the 
+whereabouts of one Lord Fitzgerald, who has disappeared. 
+Telegrams to the four ends of the world have brought no news of 
+his present residence. The archbishop instituted the latter 
+inquiries, because it was urgent and necessary he should know."
+
+Fitzgerald became enveloped in gloom.
+
+"And your credentials, Monsieur?" said the duchess. "You have 
+them, I presume?"
+
+"I came as a private gentleman; a telegram to my minister in 
+Vienna will bring indorsement."
+
+"Ah! Then you shall be locked up. I can not accord you 
+recognition; without the essential representations, I see 
+nothing in you but an impertinent meddler. To-morrow evening you 
+shall be conveyed to Brunnstadt, where you will reside for some 
+time, I can assure you. Perhaps on your head will rest the blood 
+of many gallant gentlemen; for within another twenty-four hours 
+I shall declare war against Leopold. This will be the 
+consequence of your disloyalty to your word." And she moved 
+toward the door, the others imitating her. Fitzgerald, more than 
+any one else, desired to get away.
+
+And one by one they vanished. Once the countess turned and threw 
+Maurice a glance which mystifled him; it was half curtained with 
+tears. Presently he was alone. His eye grasped every object. 
+There was not a weapon in sight; only the bayonets on the table, 
+and he could scarcely hope to escape by use of one of these. A 
+carafe of water stood on the table. He went to it and half 
+emptied it. His back was toward the door. Suddenly it opened. He 
+wheeled, expecting to see the troopers. His surprise was great. 
+Beauvais was leaning against the door, a half humorous smile on 
+his lips. The tableau lasted several minutes.
+
+"Well," said Beauvais, "you do not seem very glad to see me."
+
+Maurice remained silent, and continued to gaze at his enemy over 
+the tops of the upturned bayonets.
+
+"You are, as I said before, a very young man."
+
+"I killed a puppet of yours last night," replied Maurice, with a 
+peculiar grimness.
+
+"Eh? So it was you? However, Kopf knew too much; he is dead, 
+thanks to your service. After all, it was a stroke of war; the 
+princess, whose little rose you have, was to have been a hostage."
+
+"If she had refused to be a wife," Maurice replied.
+
+Beauvais curled his mustache.
+
+"I know a good deal more than Kopf."
+
+"You do, certainly; but you are at a convenient nearness. What 
+you know will be of no use to you. Let us sit down."
+
+"I prefer to stand. The honor you do me is too delicate."
+
+"O, you may have no fear."
+
+"I have none--so long as my back isn't turned toward you."
+
+Beauvais passed over this. "You are a very good blade; you 
+handle a sword well. That is a compliment, considering that I am 
+held as the first blade in the kingdom. It was only to-day I 
+learned that formerly you had been a cavalryman in America. You 
+have the making of a soldier."
+
+Maurice bowed, his hand resting near one of the bayonets.
+
+"You are also a soldier of fortune-like myself. You made a good 
+stroke with the archbishop. You hoodwinked us all."
+
+Maurice did not reply.
+
+"Very well; we shall not dwell on it. You are discreet."
+
+Maurice saw that Beauvais was speaking in good faith.
+
+"You have something to say; come to it at once, for it is trying 
+to watch you so closely."
+
+I will give you--" He hesitated and scratched his chin. "I will 
+give you ten thousand crowns as the price of your silence in 
+regard to the South American affair."
+
+A sardonic laugh greeted this proposal. "I did not know that you 
+were so cheap. But it is too late."
+
+"Too late?"
+
+"Doubtless, since by this time the authorities are in possession 
+of the interesting facts."
+
+"I beg to differ from you."
+
+"Do as you please," said Maurice, triumphantly. "I sent an 
+account of your former exploits both to my own government and to 
+the one which you so treacherously betrayed. One or the other 
+will not fail to reach."
+
+"I am perfectly well aware of that," Beauvais smiled. He reached 
+into a pocket, and for a moment Maurice expected to see a pistol 
+come forth. But he was needlessly alarmed. Beauvais extracted 
+two envelopes from the pocket and sailed them through the 
+intervening space. They fell on the table. "Put not your trust 
+in hotel clerks," was the sententious observation. "At least, 
+till you have discovered that no one else employs them. I am 
+well served. The clerk was told to intercept your outgoing post; 
+and there is the evidence. Ten thousand crowns and a safe 
+conduct."
+
+Maurice picked up the letters mechanically. They were his; the 
+stamps were not canceled, but the flaps were slit. He turned 
+them this way and that, bewildered. He was convinced that he 
+could in no way cope with this man of curious industries, this 
+man who seemed to have a key for every lock, and whom nothing 
+escaped. And the wise old Marshal had permitted him to leave the 
+kingdom without let or hindrance. Perhaps the Marshal understood 
+that Beauvais was a sort of powder train, and that the farther 
+he was away from the mine the better for all concerned.
+
+"You are a great rascal," Maurice said finally.
+
+"We will waive that point. The matter at present is, how much 
+will it take to buy your silence for the future?"
+
+"And I am sorry I did not kill you when I had the chance," 
+continued Maurice, as if following a train of thought.
+
+"We never realize how great the opportunity is till it has 
+passed beyond our reach. Well, how much?"
+
+"I am not in need of money."
+
+"To be sure; I forgot. But the archbishop could not have given 
+you a competence for life."
+
+"I choked a few facts out of Kopf," said Maurice. "You will wear 
+no crown--that is, earthly."
+
+"And your heavenly one is near at hand," rejoined Beauvais.
+
+Maurice absently fingered a bayonet.
+
+"You refuse this conciliation on my part?" asked Beauvais.
+
+"Positively."
+
+"Well, then, if anything happens to you, you will have only 
+yourself to blame. I will leave you to digest that suggestion. 
+Your life hangs in the balance. I will give you till to-morrow 
+morning to make up your mind."
+
+"Go to the devil!"
+
+"In that, I shall offer you the precedence." And Beauvais backed 
+out; backed out because Maurice had wrenched loose one of the 
+bayonets.
+
+Maurice flung the bayonet across the room, went back to his 
+chair, and tore his ill-fated letters into ribbons. When this 
+was done he stared moodily at the impromptu candlesticks, and 
+tried to conceive the manner in which Beauvais's threat would 
+materialize.
+
+When the troops returned to their watch, they found the prisoner 
+in a recumbent position, staring at the cracks in the floor, 
+oblivious to all else save his thoughts, which were by no means 
+charitable or humane. They resumed their game of cards. At 
+length Maurice fell into a light slumber. The next time he 
+opened his eyes it was because of a peculiar jar, which 
+continued; a familiar, monotonous jar, such as the tread of feet 
+on the earth creates. Tramp, tramp, tramp; it was a large body 
+of men on the march. Soon this was followed by a lighter and 
+noisier sound --cavalry. Finally, there came the rumbling of 
+heavy metal--artillery. More than an hour passed before these 
+varying sounds grew indistinct.
+
+Maurice was now fully awake. An army had passed the Red Chateau.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+A GAME OF POKER AND THE STAKES
+
+The next morning Beauvais came for his answer. It was not the 
+answer he had expected.
+
+"So be it," he replied. "Your government had better appoint your 
+successor at once. Good morning."
+
+"You will die suddenly some day," said Maurice.
+
+Beauvais shrugged, and departed.
+
+It was a dreary long day for the prisoner, who saw no one but 
+his jailers. He wondered what time they would start for 
+Brunnstadt. He had never seen Brunnstadt. He hoped the city 
+would interest him. Was he to be disposed of on the road? No, 
+that would scarcely be; there were too many witnesses. In the 
+city prison, then; that was possible. The outlook was not rose- 
+colored. He set to work to challenge each of his jailers, but 
+this did not serve. At five o'clock the bluff old Colonel 
+Mollendorf came in. He dismissed the troopers, who were glad 
+enough to be relieved.
+
+"I'll be responsible for the prisoner from now on," he said. As 
+soon as he and Maurice were alone he propped his chin and 
+contemplated the sullen face of the prisoner. "Well, my son, I 
+am positive that you have been accused somewhat hastily, but 
+that's the way women have, jumping at conclusions before they 
+read the preface. But you must give Madame credit for being 
+honest in the matter, as well as the others. Beauvais is 
+positive that the move of the archbishop is due to your selling 
+out to him. Come, tell me the story. If you wish, I'll promise 
+not to repeat it. Madame is determined to lock you up in any 
+event."
+
+There was something so likable about the old warrior that 
+Maurice relented.
+
+"There was nothing in the gun-barrels," he said. "Some one had 
+entered that room before me. I thought at first that Beauvais 
+had them; but he is the last man in the world to dispose of them 
+to the prelate. But has the archbishop got them? I wish I knew. 
+That's all there is to the story."
+
+"And her Royal Highness's dog?" slyly.
+
+"What! Did you hear about that?" Maurice flushed.
+
+"There is little going on in Bleiberg that we don't hear about. 
+The princess is charming. Poor girl!"
+
+"Madame's victory will have a strange odor. Can she not let the 
+king die in peace?"
+
+"My son, she dares not. If that throne were vacant of a king-- 
+Let us not talk politics."
+
+"Madame has no love for me," said Maurice.
+
+"Madame has no love for any one, if that will give you any 
+satisfaction."
+
+"It does. My lord the Englishman came near striking me last night."
+
+"I would not lay that up against him. Madame was the power 
+behind the throne."
+
+"And the impulse behind Madame?" smiling.
+
+"You are the only man who has ever crossed Madame's path; she 
+can not forget it."
+
+"And she has put me in a bad light, as far as Fitzgerald is 
+concerned. A man will believe anything a woman says to him, if 
+he loves her."
+
+"Let us avoid dissertations."
+
+"What do you want to talk about?"
+
+"Yourself; you are interesting, entertaining, and instructive," 
+the Colonel answered, laughing. "I never ran across an American 
+who wasn't, and I have met a number. What have you done to 
+Beauvais?"
+
+"It is not exactly what I've done; it is what I know."
+
+"What do you know?"
+
+Maurice repeated the story.
+
+"And you bested him at the rapiers?" in astonishment.
+
+"Is there anything startling about it?" asked Maurice.
+
+"He has no match hereabout." The Colonel looked across the table 
+at the smooth-faced boy-- he was scarcely else--and reflected. 
+"Why did you give up the army?"
+
+"The army in America doesn't run to good clothes; the officers 
+have to work harder than the privates, and, save in Washington, 
+their social status is nil. Besides, there is too much fighting 
+going on all the time. Here, an officer is always on dress parade."
+
+"Still, we are always ready. In the past we show up pretty well 
+in history. But to return to Beauvais, it is very embarrassing, very."
+
+"It will be for him, if I live long enough."
+
+"Eh?"
+
+"Beauvais has promised to push me off the board, to use his own 
+words. I am wondering how he will do it."
+
+"Don't let that disturb you; he will do nothing--now. Well, well;
+it is all a sorry game; and I find that making history has its 
+disadvantages. But I have dandled Madame as a child on my knee, 
+and her wish is law; wherever her fortunes lead, I must follow. 
+She will win; she can not help winning. But I pity that poor 
+devil of a king, who, they say, is now bereft of speech. Ah, had 
+he been a man, I could have gone into this heart and soul."
+
+"He is on his deathbed. And his daughter, God knows what is in 
+store for her. Prince Frederick is dallying with his peasant 
+girl. The day for the wedding has come and gone, unless he 
+turned up to-day, which is not likely."
+
+"Which is not likely indeed," repeated the Colonel sadly. He 
+pulled out his pipe, and smoked for a time. "But let us not 
+judge harshly, says the Book. There may be circumstances over 
+which Prince Frederick has no control. I suppose your sympathies 
+are on the other side of the path. Youth is always quick and 
+generous; it never stops to weigh causes or to reason why. And 
+strange, its judgment is almost always unerring. I am going to 
+share my dinner with you to-night. I'll try to brighten you up a 
+bit."
+
+"Thanks."
+
+"Then after dinner we'll play poker until they come to take you 
+to Brunnstadt."
+
+"What sort of a city is it?"
+
+"You will not see much of it; so I will not take the trouble to 
+tell you that it is slightly inferior to Bleiberg."
+
+Sure enough, when the dark of evening fell, two servants entered 
+with trays and baskets, and proceeded to lay the table. They put 
+new candles in the bayonets.
+
+"Ha!" said the Colonel; "you have forgotten the wine, rascals!"
+
+"Bring a dozen bottles," Maurice suggested, having an idea in 
+mind.
+
+"Eh?"
+
+"Remember, Colonel, I've been a soldier and a journalist in a 
+country where they only wash with water. In the summer we have 
+whisky iced, in the winter we have it hot; an antidote for both 
+heat and cold. Ah, Colonel, if you only might sniff a mint julep!"
+
+"A dozen bottles, then," said the Colonel to the servants, who 
+retired to execute the order.
+
+"How old will it be?" asked Maurice.
+
+"Twice your age, my son. But do not make any miscalculation 
+about my capacity for tokayer."
+
+"Any miscalculation?" Maurice echoed.
+
+"Yes; if you plan to get me drunk. There are no troopers about, 
+and it would be easy enough for you to slip out if I should lose 
+my head."
+
+Maurice's laugh had a false ring to it. The Colonel had made a 
+very shrewd guess.
+
+"Well!" said the Colonel, with a gesture toward the table.
+
+They sat down, and both made an excellent dinner. Maurice 
+demolished a roasted pheasant, stuffed with chestnuts, while the 
+Colonel disintegrated a duck. The wine came, and the servants 
+ranged six bottles on the side of each plate. It was done so 
+gravely that Maurice laughed heartily. The wine was the oldest 
+in Madame's cellar, and Maurice wondered at the Colonel's 
+temerity in selecting it. The bottles were of thick glass, fat-
+bottomed, and ungainly, and Maurice figured that there was more 
+than a pint in each. It possessed a delicious bouquet. The 
+Colonel emptied three bottles, with no more effect than if the 
+wine had been water. Maurice did not appreciate this feat until 
+he had himself emptied a bottle. It was then he saw that the 
+boot was likely to be on the other foot.
+
+He looked at the Colonel enviously; the old soldier was a gulf. 
+He had miscalculated, indeed. But he was fertile in plans, and a 
+more reasonable one occurred to him. He drank another bottle and 
+began to talk verbosely. Later he grew confidential. He told the 
+Colonel a great many things which-- had never happened, things 
+impossible and improbable. The Colonel listened soberly, and 
+nodded now and again. Dinner past, they pushed the remains aside 
+and began to play poker, a game at which the Colonel proved to 
+be no novice, much to Maurice's wonder.
+
+"Why, you know the game as thoroughly as an Arizona corporal."
+
+"I generally spend a month of the winter in Vienna. One of your 
+compatriots taught me the interesting game." The Colonel 
+shuffled the cards. "It is the great American game, so I am told."
+
+"O, they play checkers in the New England states," said Maurice, 
+hiccoughing slightly. "But out west and in all the great cities 
+poker has the way."
+
+"What have you got?" asked the Colonel, answering a call.
+
+"Jacks full."
+
+"Takes the pot;" and this Americanism came so naturally that 
+Maurice roared.
+
+"Poker is a great preliminary study to diplomacy," said the 
+Colonel, as he scrutinized his hand. "You raise it?"
+
+"Yes. One card. Diplomacy? So it is. I played a game with the 
+Chinese ambassador in Washington one night. I was teaching him 
+how to play. I lost all the ready money I had with me. Next day 
+I found out that he was the shrewdest player in the diplomatic 
+circles. Let's make it a jackpot."
+
+"All the same to me."
+
+And the game went on. Presently Maurice threw aside his coat. He 
+was feeling the warmth of the wine, but he opened another bottle.
+
+"Is there any truth," said the Colonel, "about your shooting a 
+man who is found cheating in your country?"
+
+"There is, if you can draw quicker than he." Maurice glanced at 
+his hand and threw it down.
+
+"What did you have?"
+
+"Nothing. I was trying to fill a straight."
+
+"So was I," said the Colonel, sweeping the board. "It's your 
+deal." He unbottoned his coat.
+
+Maurice felt a shiver of delight. Sticking out of the Colonel's 
+belt was the ebony handle of a cavalry revolver, and he made up 
+his mind to get it. There were no troopers around--the Colonel 
+had admitted as much. He began talking rapidly, sometimes 
+incoherently. In a corner of the room he saw the cords which had 
+been around his wrists and ankles the night before.
+
+"Poker," said the Colonel, "depends mostly on what you Americans 
+call bluff. A bluff, as I understand it, is making the others 
+think you have them when you haven't, or you haven't got them 
+when you have. In one case you scare them, in the other you fish.
+You're getting flushed, my son; you'll have a headache to-night;
+and in an hour you start."
+
+An hour! There was fever in Maurice's veins, but it was not 
+caused wholly by the heat of the wine. How should he manage it? 
+He must have that revolver.
+
+"Call? What have you got?" asked the Colonel.
+
+"Three kings--no, by George! only a pair. I thought a queen was 
+a king. My head's beginning to get shaky. Colonel, I believe I 
+am getting drunk."
+
+"I am sure of it."
+
+Maurice got up and rolled in an extraordinary fashion, but he 
+was careful not to overdo it. He began to sing. The Colonel got 
+up, too, and he was laughing. Maurice accidentally knocked over 
+some empty bottles; he kicked them about.
+
+"Sh!" cried the Colonel, coming around the table; "you'll 
+stampede the horses."
+
+Maurice staggered toward him, and the Colonel caught him in his 
+arms. Maurice suddenly drew back, and the Colonel found himself 
+looking into the cavernous tube of his own revolver. Not a 
+muscle in his face moved.
+
+"Take off your coat," said Maurice, quietly.
+
+The Colonel complied. "You are not so very drunk just now."
+
+"No. It was one of those bluffs when you make them think you 
+haven't them when you have."
+
+"What next?" asked the Colonel.
+
+"Those cords in the corner."
+
+The Colonel picked them up, sat down and gravely tied one around 
+his ankles. Maurice watched him curiously. The old fellow was 
+rather agreeable, he thought.
+
+"Now," the Colonel inquired calmly, "how are you going to tie my 
+hands? Can you hold the revolver in one hand and tie with the 
+other?"
+
+"Hang me!" exclaimed Maurice, finding himself brought to a halt.
+
+"My son," said the Colonel, "you are clever. In fact, you are 
+one of those fellows who grow to be great. You never miss an 
+opportunity, and more often than not you invent opportunities, 
+which is better still. The truth is, you have proceeded exactly 
+on the lines I thought you would; and thereby you have saved me 
+the trouble of lying or having it out with Madame. I am a victim,
+not an accomplice; I was forced at the point of a revolver; I 
+had nothing to say. If I had really been careless you would have 
+accomplished the feat just the same. For it was easily 
+accomplished you will admit. 'Tis true I knew you were acting 
+because I expected you to act. All this preamble puzzles you."
+
+Certainly Maurice's countenance expressed nothing less than 
+perplexity. He stepped back a few paces.
+
+"You have," continued the Colonel, "perhaps three-quarters of an 
+hour. You will be able to get out of here. You will have to 
+depend on your resources to cross the frontier."
+
+"Would you just as soon explain to me--"
+
+"It means that a certain young lady, like myself, believes in 
+your innocence."
+
+"The countess?" Maurice cried eagerly, remembering the look of 
+the night before and the tears which were in it.
+
+"I will not mention any names. Suffice it to say that it was due 
+to her pleading that I consented to play poker--and to let you 
+fall into my arms. Come, to work," holding out his hands.
+
+First Maurice clasped the hand and wrung it. "Colonel, I do not 
+want you to get into trouble on my account--"
+
+"Go along with you! If you were really important," in half a 
+banter, "it would be altogether a different matter. As it is, 
+you are more in the way than anything else, only Madame does not 
+see it in that light. Come, at my wrists, and take your 
+handkerchief and tie it over my mouth; make a complete job of it 
+while you're at it."
+
+"But they'll wonder how I tied you--"
+
+"By the book, the boy is quite willing to sit down and play 
+poker with me till the escort comes! Don't trouble yourself 
+about me; Madame has too much need of me to give me more than a 
+slight rating. Hurry and be off, and remember that Beauvais has 
+promised to push you off the board. Take the near path for the 
+woods and strike northeast. If you run into any sentries it will 
+be your own fault."
+
+"And the army?"
+
+"The army? Who the devil has said anything about the army?"
+
+"I heard it go past last night."
+
+"Humph! Keep to the right of the pass. Now, quick, before my 
+conscience speaks above a whisper."
+
+"I should like to see the countess."
+
+"You will--if you reach Bleiberg by to-morrow night."
+
+Maurice needed no further urging, and soon he had the Colonel 
+securely bound and silenced. Next he put on the Colonel's hat 
+and coat, and examined the revolver.
+
+"It was very kind of you to load it, Colonel."
+
+The Colonel blinked his eyes.
+
+"Au revoir!" said Maurice, as he made for the door. "Vergis mein 
+nicht!" and he was gone.
+
+He crept down the stairs, cautiously entered the court, it was 
+deserted. The moon was up and shining. The gate was locked, but 
+he climbed it without mishap. Not a sentry was in sight. He 
+followed the path, and swung off into the forest. He was free. 
+Here he took a breathing spell. When he started onward he held 
+the revolver ready. Woe to the sentry who blundered on him! For 
+he was determined to cross the frontier if there was a breath of 
+life in him. Moreover, he must be in Bleiberg within twenty 
+hours.
+
+He was positive that Madame the duchess intended to steal a 
+march, to declare war only when she was within gunshot of 
+Bleiberg. It lay with him to provent this move. His cup of wrath 
+was full. From now on he was resolved to wage war against Madame 
+on his own account. She had laughed in his face. He pushed on, 
+examining trees, hollows and ditches. Sometimes he put his hand 
+to his ear and listened. There was no sound in the great lonely 
+forest, save for the low murmur of the wind through the 
+sprawling boughs. Shadows danced on the forest floor. Once he 
+turned and shook his clenched fist toward the spot which marked 
+the location of the Red Chateau. He thanked Providence that he 
+was never to see it again. What an adventure to tell at the 
+clubs when he once more regained his Vienna! Would he regain it?
+
+Why did Madame keep Fitzgerald to her strings? He concluded not 
+to bother himself with problems abstract; the main object was to 
+cross the Thalians by a path of his own choosing. When he had 
+covered what he thought to be a quarter of a mile, he mounted a 
+lookout. The highway was about three hundred yards to the left. 
+That was where it should be. He saw no sentries, so he slid down 
+from the tree and resumed his journey. The chestnuts, oaks, and 
+firs were growing thicker and denser. A dead branch cracked with 
+a loud report beneath his feet. With his heart almost in his 
+throat, he lay down and listened. A minute passed; he listened 
+in vain for an answering noise. He got up and went on.
+
+Presently he came upon a cluster of trees which was capable of 
+affording a hiding place for three or four men. He stood still 
+and surveyed it. The moon cast moving shadows on either side of 
+it, but these had no human shape. He laughed silently at his 
+fear, and as he was about to pass the cluster a man stepped out 
+from behind it, his eyes gleaming and his hand extended. He was 
+rather a handsome fellow, but pale and emaciated. He wore a 
+trooper's uniform, and Maurice, swearing softly, concluded that 
+his dash for liberty had come to naught. He, too, held a 
+revolver in his hand, but he dared not raise it. There was a 
+certain expression on the trooper's face which precluded any 
+arguing.
+
+"If you move," the trooper said, in a mild voice; "if you utter 
+a sound, I'll blow off the top of your cursed head!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+THE PRISONER OF THE RED CHATEAU
+
+There the two stood, mottled in the moonshine and shadow, with 
+wild eyes and nostrils distended, the one triumphant, the other 
+raging and impotent. Maurice was growing weary of fortune's 
+discourtesies. He gazed alternately from his own revolver, lying 
+at his feet, to the one in the hand of this unexpected visitant. 
+Only two miles between him and freedom, yet he must turn back. 
+The Colonel had reckoned without Madame, and therefore without 
+reason. This man had probably got around in front of him when he 
+climbed the tree. He turned sullenly and started to walk away, 
+expecting to be followed.
+
+"Halt! Where the devil are you going?"
+
+"Why, back to your cursed chateau!" Maurice answered surlily.
+
+The strange trooper laughed discordantly. "Back to the chateau? 
+I think not. Now, then, right about face--march! Aye, toward the 
+frontier; and if I have to go on alone, so much the worse for 
+you. I've knocked in one man's head; if necessary, I'll blow off 
+the top of yours. You know the way back to Bleiberg, I don't; 
+that is why I want your company. Now march."
+
+But Maurice did not march; he was filled with curiosity. "Are 
+you a trooper in Madame the duchess's household?" he asked.
+
+"No, curse you!"
+
+"Who are you, then?"
+
+"Come, come; this will not pass. No tricks; you have been 
+following me these twenty minutes."
+
+"The deuce I have!" exclaimed Maurice, bewildered. "To Bleiberg, 
+is it?"
+
+"And without loss of time. When we cross the Thalians I shall be 
+perfectly willing to parley with you."
+
+"To Bleiberg, then," said Maurice. "Since that is my destination,
+the devil I care how I get there."
+
+"Do you mean to tell me that you are going to Bleiberg?" 
+surprise mingling with his impatience.
+
+"No place else."
+
+"Are you a spy?" menacingly.
+
+"No more than you."
+
+"But that uniform!"
+
+"I fancy yours looks a good deal like it," Maurice replied 
+testily.
+
+"I confess I never saw you before, and your tongue has a foreign 
+twist," with growing doubt.
+
+"I am sure I never saw you before, nor want to see you again."
+
+"What are you doing in that uniform?"
+
+"You have the advantage of me; suppose you begin the 
+introduction?"
+
+"Indeed I have the advantage of you, and propose to maintain it. 
+Who are you and what are you doing here? Answer!"
+
+There was something in the young man's aspect which convinced 
+Maurice that it would be folly to trifle. Besides, he gave to 
+his words an air which distinguishes the man who commands from 
+the man who serves. Maurice briefly acquainted the young man 
+with his name and position.
+
+"And you?" he asked.
+
+"I?" The young man laughed again. It was an unpleasant laugh. 
+"Never mind who I am. Let us go, we are losing time. What is the 
+date?" suddenly.
+
+"The twentieth of September," answered Maurice.
+
+"My God, a day too late!" The young man had an attack of vertigo,
+and was obliged to lean against a tree for support. "Are you 
+telling me the truth about yourself?"
+
+"I am. I myself was attempting to dispense with the questionable 
+hospitality of the Red Chateau--good Lord!" striking his 
+forehead.
+
+"What's the matter?"
+
+"Are you the mysterious prisoner of the chateau, the man they 
+have been keeping at the end of the east corridor on the third 
+floor?"
+
+"Yes. And woe to the woman who kept me there! How came you 
+there?"
+
+Maurice, confident that something extraordinary was taking place,
+related in synopsis his adventures.
+
+"And this cursed Englishman?"
+
+"Will drain a bitter cup. Madame is playing with him."
+
+"And the king; is he dead?"
+
+"He is dying." Maurice's wonder grew. What part had this strange 
+young man in this comedy, which was rapidly developing into a 
+tragedy?
+
+"And her Highness--her Royal Highness?" eagerly clutching 
+Maurice by the arm; "and she?"
+
+"She does not murmur, though both her pride and her heart are 
+sore. She has scarcely a dozen friends. Her paralytic father is 
+the theme of ribald jest; and now they laugh at her because the 
+one man who perhaps could have saved the throne has deserted her 
+like a coward. Hang him, I say!"
+
+"What do they say?" The tones were hollow.
+
+"They say he is enamoured of a peasant girl, and dallies with 
+her, forgetting his sacred vows, his promised aid, and perhaps 
+even this, his wedding day."
+
+"God help him!" was the startling and despairing cry. . . . He 
+was again seized with the vertigo, and swayed against the tree. 
+For a moment he forgot Maurice, covered his face with his 
+unengaged hand, and sobbed.
+
+Maurice was helpless; he could offer no consolation. This grief 
+he could not understand. He stooped and picked up his revolver 
+and waited.
+
+"I am weak," said the other man, dashing his hand from his eyes; 
+"I am weak and half starved. It would be better for all 
+concerned if I blew out my brains. The twentieth, the twentieth!"
+he repeated, dully. "Curse her!" he burst forth; "as there's a 
+God above us, I'll have revenge. Aye, I'll return to the chateau,
+Madame, that I will, but at the head of ten thousand men! . . . 
+The twentieth! She will never forgive me; she will think I, too, 
+deserted her!" He broke down again.
+
+"An army!" cried Maurice.
+
+"Aye, and ten thousand men! Come," taking Maurice by the arm; 
+"come, they may be seeking us. To the frontier. Every hour is 
+precious. To a telegraph office! We shall see if I dally with 
+peasant girls, if I forsake the woman I love!"
+
+"You?" Maurice retreated a step. The silver moonshine became 
+tinged with red.
+
+"I am Prince Frederick, and I love her Highness. I would 
+sacrifice a thousand kingdoms to spare her a moment's sorrow. I 
+have always loved her."
+
+"What a woman!" Maurice murmured, as the scheme of Madame's 
+flashed through his mind. "What a woman! And she had the 
+audacity to kidnap you, too!"
+
+"And by the most dishonorable device. I and my suite of 
+gentlemen were coming to Bleiberg to make the final arrangements.
+At Ehrenstein I received a telegram which requested me to visit 
+till the following train a baron who was formerly a comrade of 
+my father. The telegram advised me of his sudden illness, and 
+that he had something important to disclose to me. I bade my 
+gentlemen, save one, proceed to Bleiberg. My aide and I entered 
+the carriage which was to convey us to the castle. We never 
+reached it. On the road we fell into an ambush, a contrivance of 
+Madame's. I was brought to the chateau. Whatever happened to 
+Hofer, my aide, I do not know. Doubtless he is dead. But Madame 
+shall pay, both in pride and wealth. I will lay waste this duchy 
+of hers, though in the end the emperor crush me. Let us be off."
+
+They stumbled on through the forest. So confused was Maurice 
+that he forgot his usual caution. The supreme confidence of this 
+woman and the flawlessness of her schemes dazed him. So far she 
+had stopped at nothing; where would she end? A Napoleon in 
+petticoats, she was about to appall the confederation. She had 
+suppressed a prince who was heir to a kingdom triple in power 
+and size to the kingdom which she coveted. Madame the duchess 
+was relying on some greater power, else her plans were madness.
+
+As for the prince, he had but one thought: to reach Bleiberg. 
+The confinement, together with mental suffering, anxiety and 
+forced inaction, began to tell on him. Twice he tripped and fell,
+and Maurice had to return to assist him to his feet. However 
+could they cross the mountains, a feat which needed both courage 
+and extreme physical endurance?
+
+"I am so weak," said the prince, "so pitiably weak! I thought to 
+frighten the woman by starving myself, poor fool that I was!"
+
+And they went on again. Maurice was beginning to feel the effect 
+of his wine-bibbing; he had a splitting headache.
+
+"Silence!" he suddenly whispered, sinking and dragging the 
+prince with him.
+
+A hundred yards in advance of them stood a sentinel, his body 
+bent forward and a hand to his ear. Presently he, too, lay down. 
+Five minutes passed. The sentinel rose, and convinced that his 
+ears had tricked him, resumed his lonely patrol. He disappeared 
+toward the west, while the fugitives made off in an easterly 
+direction. Maurice was a soldier again. Every two or three 
+hundred yards he knelt and pressed his ear to the cold, damp 
+earth and waited for a familiar jar. The prince watched these 
+movements with interest.
+
+"You have been a soldier?" he asked.
+
+"Yes. Perhaps we had better strike out for the mountains. The 
+sentry line can not extend as far as this."
+
+But now they could see the drab peaks of the mountains which 
+loomed between the partly dismantled trees. Beyond lay the 
+kingdom. Would they ever reach it? There was only one pass; this 
+they dared not make. Yet if they attempted to cross the 
+mountains in a deserted place, they might very easily get lost; 
+for in some locations it was fully six miles across the range, 
+and this, with the ups and downs and windings in and out, might 
+lengthen into twenty miles. They struck out toward the mountains,
+and after half an hour they came upon an unforeseen obstacle. 
+They sat down in despair. This obstacle was the river, not very, 
+wide, but deep, turbulent and impassable.
+
+"We shall have to risk the pass," said Maurice, gloomily; 
+"though heaven knows how we are to get through it. We have ten 
+shots between us."
+
+They followed the river. The roar of it deadened all other 
+sounds. For a mile they plodded on, silent, watchful and 
+meditative. The prince thought of his love; Maurice tried to 
+forget his. For him the romance had come to an end, its logical 
+end; and it was now only a question of getting back to the world 
+to which he belonged and remaining there. He recalled a line he 
+had read somewhere: a deep love, gashes into the soul as a scar 
+is hewn upon the body and remains there during the whole life. . .
+
+"Look!" cried the prince. He pointed toward the west.
+
+Maurice came out of his dream and looked. Some distance west of 
+the pass, perhaps half a mile from where they stood, Maurice saw 
+the twinkle of a hundred campfires. It was Madame's army in 
+bivouac.
+
+"What does this mean?" asked the prince.
+
+"It means that the duchess is on the eve of striking a blow for 
+her crown," answered Maurice. "And how are we to make the pass, 
+which is probably filled with soldiers? If only we could find a 
+boat! Ah! what would your Highness call this?" He pointed to a 
+thread-like line of bare earth which wended riverward.
+
+"A sheep or cattle path," said the prince, after a close 
+inspection.
+
+"Then the river is perhaps fordable here!" exclaimed Maurice 
+jubilantly. "At any rate, we'll try it; if it gets too deep, 
+we'll come back."
+
+He walked to the water's edge, studied the black whirling mass, 
+shrugged and stepped in. The prince came after him, 
+unhesitatingly. Both shivered. The water was intensely cold. But 
+the bed was shallow, and the river never mounted above the waist.
+However, in midstream it rushed strongly and wildly along, and 
+all but carried them off their feet. They arrived in safety at 
+the opposite shore, weak and cold in body, but warm in spirit. 
+They lay on the grass for several moments, breathing heavily. 
+They might now gain the pass by clambering up the mountain and 
+picking their way down from the other side. It was not possible 
+that Madame's troopers had entered into the kingdom.
+
+"I am giving out," the prince confessed reluctantly. "Let us 
+make as much headway as we can while I last."
+
+They stood up. Now the moon fell upon them both; and they viewed 
+each other with no little curiosity. What the prince saw pleased 
+him, for he possessed a good eye. What Maurice saw was a frank, 
+manly countenance, youthful, almost boyish. The prince did not 
+look to be more than three and twenty, if that; but there was a 
+man's determination in his jaw. This jaw pleased Maurice, for it 
+confided to him that Madame had now something that would cause 
+her worry.
+
+"I put myself in your care," said the prince, offering his hand. 
+"I am not equal to much. A man can not see his wedding day come 
+and go without him, helpless to prevent it, and not have the 
+desire to sit down and weep and curse. You will see nothing but 
+the unfavorable side of me for the next dozen hours."
+
+"I'm not altogether amiable myself," replied Maurice with a 
+short laugh. "Let us get out of the moonlight," he added; "we 
+are somewhat conspicuous, and besides, we should keep moving; 
+this cold is paralyzing. Is your Highness equal to the climbing?"
+
+"Equal or not, lead the way. If I fall I'll call you."
+
+And the weary march began again; over boulders, through tangles 
+of tough shrubbery, up steep inclines, around precipices, 
+sometimes enveloped in mists, yet still they kept on. Often the 
+prince fell over ragged stones, but he picked himself up without 
+assistance; though he swore some, Maurice thought none the less 
+of him for that bit of human weakness. The cold was numbing, and 
+neither felt the cuts and bruises.
+
+After two hours of this fatiguing labor they arrived upon a 
+small plateau, about two thousand feet above the valley. The 
+scene was solemn and imposing. The world seemed lying at their 
+feet. The chateau, half hidden in the mist, sparkled like an 
+opal. Maurice scowled at it. To the prince the vision was as 
+reviving as a glass of wine. He threatened it with his fist, and 
+plunged on with renewed vigor. There are few sensations so 
+stimulating as the thought of a complete revenge. The angle of 
+vision presently changed, and the historic pile vanished. 
+Maurice never saw the Red Chateau again.
+
+Little more in the way of mishap befell them; and when the moon 
+had wheeled half way down from the zenith, the kingdom lay below 
+them. A descent of an hour's duration brought them into the pass.
+Maurice calculated that nearly five hours had passed since he 
+left the chateau; for the blue was fading in the east. The 
+phantom vitality of the prince now forsook him; his legs refused 
+their offices, and he sank upon a boulder, his head in his hands.
+Maurice was not much better; but the prince had given him the 
+burden of responsibility, and he was determined to hold up under 
+it.
+
+"If your Highness will remain here," he said, "I will fetch 
+assistance, for the barrack can not be far off."
+
+The prince nodded and Maurice tramped away. But the miniature 
+barrack and the quaint stone customs house both were wrapt in 
+gloom and darkness. Maurice investigated. Both buildings were 
+deserted; there was no sign of life about. He broke a window, 
+and entered the customs office. Remembering that Colonel 
+Mollendorf smoked, he searched the inner pocket of his coat. He 
+drew forth a box of wax matches, struck one and looked about. A 
+struggle had taken place. Evidences were strewn on the floor. 
+The telegraph operator's table had been smashed into bits, the 
+instrument twisted out of shape, the jars broken and the wires 
+cut. Like indications of a disturbance were also found in the 
+barrack.
+
+Maurice began to comprehend. Madame's troopers had crossed the 
+frontier, but they had returned again, taking with them the 
+handful of troopers belonging to the king. It was plain that the 
+object of this skirmish had been to destroy communications 
+between Bleiberg and the frontier. Madame desired to effect a 
+complete surprise, to swoop down on the capital before it could 
+bring a large force into the field.
+
+There is an unwritten law that when one country intends to wage 
+war against its neighbor a formal declaration shall be made. But 
+again Madame had forsaken the beaten paths. More than three 
+weeks had passed since the duchy's representative in Bleiberg 
+had been discredited and given his passports. At once the 
+duchess had retaliated by discrediting the king's representative 
+in Brunnstadt. Ordinarily this would have been understood as a 
+mutual declaration of war. Instead, both governments ignored 
+each other, one suspiciously, the other intentionally. All of 
+which is to say, the gage of war had been flung, but neither had 
+stooped to pick it up.
+
+Perhaps Madame expected by this sudden aggressiveness to win her 
+fight with as little loss of blood as possible, which in justice 
+to her was to her credit. Again, a declaration of war openly 
+made might have moved the confederation to veto it by coercion. 
+To win without loss of life would leave the confederation 
+powerless to act. Therefore it will be seen that Madame was not 
+only a daring woman, but a general of no mean ability.
+
+This post was an isolated one; between it and Bleiberg there was 
+not even a village. The main pass from the kingdom into the 
+duchy was about thirty miles east. Here was a small but lively 
+city named Coberg, a railway center, garrisoned by one thousand 
+troops. At this pass Madame's contemplated stroke of war would 
+have been impossible. The railway ran directly from Coberg to 
+Brunnstadt, fifty miles south of the frontier. A branch of the 
+railway ran from Brunnstadt to a small town seven miles south of 
+the Red Chateau, which accounts for the ease with which Madame's 
+troops had reached the isolated pass. It was now likely that 
+Madame would arrive before Bleiberg ere her enemies dreamed of 
+the stroke. Maurice could see how well the traitorous 
+administration had played into Madame's hands. Here was the one 
+weak spot, and they had allowed it to remain thus weak.
+
+"The kingdom is lost," thought Maurice. "His Highness and I may 
+as well return to the chateau, for all the good our escape will 
+do us. Hang them all!"
+
+He began to forage, and discovered a bottle full of peach brandy.
+He drank half the contents, reserving the remainder for the 
+prince. As he lowered the bottle there came a sound which caused 
+him almost to lose hold of the vigorous tonic. The sound he 
+heard was the shrill whinney of a horse. He pocketed the bottle 
+and dashed out to the stables. To his joy several horses stamped 
+restlessly in the stalls. The attacking party had without doubt 
+come on foot. He led out two, saddled and bridled them and 
+returned to the prince, who had fallen asleep. Maurice roused 
+him.
+
+"To Bleiberg, your Highness," he cried, at the same time 
+offering the bottle, which the prince did not hesitate to empty.
+
+"Ha !" staggering to his feet. "Where are the men?"
+
+Maurice explained the cause of their absence. The prince swore, 
+and climbed with difficulty into the saddle.
+
+"Thank God," he said, as they galloped away, "we shall be there 
+first."
+
+"Adieu, Madame!" Maurice cried, airily. He was free.
+
+"To our next meeting, duchess!" The prince, too, was free, but 
+he thirsted for a full revenge.
+
+They had been on the way but a short time when Maurice lifted 
+his arm.
+
+"Look!"
+
+The prince raised his head. It was dawn, yellow and cold and 
+pure.
+
+They fell into silence; sometimes Maurice caught himself 
+counting the beat of the hoofs and the variation of sounds, as 
+when they struck sand or slate, or crossed small wooden bridges. 
+Here and there he saw peasants going into the fields to begin 
+the long, long day of toil. The saddle on which he sat had been 
+the property of a short man, for the stirrups were too high, and 
+the prince's were too low. But neither desired to waste time to 
+adjust them. And so they rode with dangling legs and bodies 
+sunken in the saddles; mute, as if by agreement.
+
+They had gone perhaps ten miles when they perceived a horse 
+flying toward them, half a mile away. The rider was not yet 
+visible. They felt no alarm, but instinctively they drew 
+together. Nearer and nearer came the lonely horseman, and as the 
+distance lessened into some hundred yards they discerned the 
+flutter of a gown.
+
+"A woman!" exclaimed Maurice. "And alone this time of morning!"
+
+"Eh?" cried the prince; "and heading for the duchy? Let us wait."
+
+They drew up to the side of the highway. The woman came 
+fearlessly on, her animal's head down and his tail flaring out 
+behind. On, on; abreast of them; as she flew past there was a 
+vision of a pale, determined face, a blond head bared to the 
+chill wind. She heeded not their challenge; it was a question 
+whether or not she heard it. They stood watching her until she 
+and her horse dwindled into a mere moving speck, finally to 
+become lost altogether in a crook of the road.
+
+"I should like to know what that means," said Maurice.
+
+"It is very strange," the prince said, musingly. "I have seen 
+that woman before. She is one of the dancers at the opera."
+
+"Mayhap she has a lover on the other side."
+
+"Mayhap. Let us be on. There's the sun, and we are a good 
+thirteen miles away!" and the prince slapped the neck of his 
+horse, which bounded forward.
+
+This tiring pace they maintained until they mounted the hill 
+from which they could see the glittering spires of the city, and 
+the Werter See as it flashed back the sunlight.
+
+"Bleiberg!" Maurice waved his hand.
+
+"Thanks to you, that I look on it."
+
+It was ten o'clock when they passed under the city gates.
+
+"Monsieur, will you go with me to the palace?" asked the prince.
+
+"If your Highness will excuse me," said Maurice; "no, I should 
+be in the way; and besides I am dead for want of sleep."
+
+"I shall never sleep," grumbled the prince, "till I have humbled 
+that woman. And you? Have you no rankle in your heart? Have you 
+no desire to witness that woman's humiliation?"
+
+"Your Highness, I belong to a foreign country."
+
+"No matter; be my aide. Come; I offer you a complete revenge for 
+the treatment you have received at Madame's hands. Your 
+government shall never know."
+
+Maurice studied the mane of his horse. Suddenly he made a 
+gesture. This gesture consigned to the four winds his diplomatic 
+career. "I accept," he said. "You will find me at the 
+Continental. I confess that I have no love for this woman. She 
+has robbed me of no little conceit."
+
+"To the palace, then; to the palace! And this hour to-morrow we, 
+you and I, will drink to her Royal Highness at the Red Chateau. 
+To the palace!"
+
+Up the Strasse they raced, through the lower town to the upper, 
+and down the broad asphalt to the palace gates. The prince 
+rushed his horse to the very bars and shook them in his wild 
+impatience.
+
+"Ho! open, open!" he called.
+
+Several cuirassiers lounged about. At the sight of these two 
+hatless, bedraggled men storming the gates, they ran forward 
+with drawn swords and angry cries. Lieutenant Scharfenstein was 
+among them. At second glance he recognized Maurice, who hailed 
+him.
+
+"Open, Lieutenant," he cried; "it is his Highness, Prince 
+Frederick!"
+
+The bars came down, the gates swung in.
+
+"Go and sleep," said the prince to Maurice; "I will send an 
+orderly for you when the time comes." And with this he dashed up 
+the driveway to the main entrance of the palace, leaped from his 
+horse and disappeared.
+
+Maurice wheeled and drove leisurely to the Continental, leaving 
+the amazed cuirassiers gaping after him. He experienced that 
+exuberance of spirits which always comes with a delightful day 
+dream. He forgot his weariness, his bruises. To mingle directly 
+in the affairs of kings and princes, to be a factor among 
+factors who surround and uphold thrones, seemed so at variance 
+with his republican learning that he was not sure that all this 
+was not one long dream--Fitzgerald and his consols, the meeting 
+with the princess, the adventures at Madame's chateau, the duel 
+with Beauvais, the last night's flight with the prince across 
+the mountains! Yes; he had fallen asleep somewhere and had been 
+whisked away into a kind of fairyland. Every one was in trouble 
+just now, as they always are in certain chapters of fairy tales, 
+but all would end happily, and then--he would wake.
+
+Meanwhile the prince entered the palace and was proceeding up 
+the grand corridor, when a bared sword stayed his progress.
+
+"Monsieur," said von Mitter, "you have lost your way. You can 
+not enter here."
+
+"I?" a haughty, threatening expression on his pale face. "Are 
+you sure?"
+
+Von Mitter fell back against the wall and all but lost hold of 
+his saber. "Your Highness?" he gasped, overcome.
+
+"Even so!" said the prince. "The archbishop! the Marshal! Lead 
+me to them at once!"
+
+Von Mitter was too much the soldier not to master his surprise 
+at once. He saluted, clicked his heels and limped toward the 
+throne room. He stopped at the threshold, saluted again, and, in 
+a voice full of quavers, announced:
+
+"His Highness Prince Frederick of Carnavia."
+
+He stepped aside, and the prince pushed past him into the throne 
+room. At this dramatic entrance there rose from the archbishop, 
+the Marshal, the princess, the Carnavian ambassador, from all 
+the court dignitaries, a cry of wonder and astonishment.
+
+"His Highness!"
+
+"Aye!" cried the prince, brokenly, for his joy at seeing the 
+princess nigh overcame him. "I have been a prisoner of Madame's, 
+who at this moment is marching on Bleiberg with an army four 
+thousand strong!" And stumblingly he related his misadventures.
+
+The Marshal did not wait until he had done, nor did the new 
+Colonel of the cuirassiers; both rushed from the room. The 
+archbishop frowned; while the princess and the court stared at 
+the prince with varying emotions. Before the final word had 
+passed his lips, he approached her Highness, fell on his knee 
+and raised her hand to his lips. He noticed not how cold it was.
+
+"Thank God, Mademoiselle," he said, "that once more I look into 
+your eyes. And if one wedding day is gone--well, there is yet 
+time for another!" He, rose, and proudly before them all he drew 
+her toward him and kissed her cheek. It was his right; she was, 
+the light of all his dreams, at once his bride-to-be and lady-
+love. But in his joy and eagerness he did not see how pale she 
+grew at the touch of his lips, nor how the lids of her eyes 
+trembled and fell.
+
+Next the prince recounted Maurice's adventures, how he became 
+connected with those at the chateau, even Fitzgerald's fall from 
+grace. The indignation and surprise which was accorded this 
+recital was unbounded.
+
+The brown eyes of the princess filled. In a moment she had 
+traversed the space of ten years to a rare September noon, when 
+a gray-haired old man had kissed her hand and praised her speech.
+A young dog stood beside her, ready for a romp in the park. 
+Across the path sat her father, who was smiling, and who would 
+never smile again. How many times had her girlish fancy pictured 
+the son of that old man! How many times had she dreamed of him--
+aye, prayed for him! The room grew dark, and she pressed her 
+hand over her heart. To her the future was empty indeed. There 
+was nothing left but the vague perfume of the past, the faint 
+incense of futile, childish dreams. To stand on the very 
+threshold of life, and yet to see no joy beyond! She struggled 
+against the sob which rose, and conquered it.
+
+"To arms, Messieurs, to arms!" cried the prince, feverishly. "To 
+arms!"
+
+The archbishop stepped forward and took the prince's hand in his 
+own.
+
+"God wills all things," he said, sadly, "and perhaps he has 
+willed that your Highness should come too late!" And that 
+strange, habitual smile was gone--forever. No one could fathom 
+the true significance of this peculiar speech.
+
+"But "aux armes" was taken up, and spread throughout the city.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+
+THE FORTUNES OF WAR
+
+War! The whole city was in tumult. The guests were leaving the 
+hotels, the timid were preparing to fly, and shopkeepers were 
+putting up their blinds and hiding their valuables; the parks 
+and cafes were deserted. The railway booking office was crowded, 
+and a babel of tongues quarreled for precedence. The siege of 
+Paris was but yesterday's news, and tourists did not propose to 
+be walled in from the outer world. Some looked upon the scene as 
+a comic opera; others saw the tragedy of men snarling at one 
+another's throats.
+
+Two hundred gendarmes patrolled the streets; for in war time the 
+dregs of a city float to the surface. Above the foreign 
+legations flags rose, offering protection to all those who 
+possessed the right to claim it. Less than four thousand troops 
+had marched from the city that day, but these were the flower of 
+the army, consisting of two thousand foot, six cannon and twelve 
+hundred horse. Europe has always depended largely on the cavalry,
+which in the past has been a most formidable engine in warfare.
+
+With gay plumes and banners, glittering helmets and flashing 
+cuirasses, they had gone forth to meet Madame and drive her back 
+across the range. They had made a brave picture, especially the 
+royal cuirassiers, who numbered three hundred strong, and who 
+were to fight not only for glory, but for bread. Fifty of them 
+had been left behind to guard the palaces.
+
+In the royal bedchamber the king lay, all unconscious of the 
+fate impending. The brain had ceased to live; only a feeble 
+pulse stirred irregularly. The state physician shook his head, 
+and, from time to time, laid his fingers on the unfeeling wrist. 
+To him it was a matter of a few hours.
+
+But to the girl, whose face lay hidden in the counterpane, close 
+to one of those senseless hands, to her it was a matter of a 
+breaking heart, of eyes which could be no longer urged to tears, 
+the wells having dried up. Dear God, she thought, how cruel it 
+was! Her tried and trusted friend, the one playmate of her 
+childhood, was silently slipping out of her life forever. Ah, 
+what to her were crowns and kingdoms, aye, and even war? Her 
+father dead, what mattered it who reigned? How she prayed that 
+he might live! They would go away together, and live in peace 
+and quiet, undisturbed by the storms of intrigue. . . . It was 
+not to be; he was dying. She would be the wife of no man; her 
+father, hovering in spirit above her, would read her heart and 
+understand. Dead, he would ask no sacrifice of her. Henceforth 
+only God would be her king, and she would worship him in some 
+sacred convent.
+
+The old valet, who had served his master from boyhood, stood in 
+the anteroom and fumbled his lips, his faded eyes red with 
+weeping. He was losing the only friend he had. Elsewhere the 
+servants wandered about restlessly, waiting for news from the 
+front, to learn if they, too, were to join in the mad flight 
+from the city. Few servants love masters in adversity. Self-
+interest is the keynote to their existences.
+
+In the east wing three men were holding a whispered consultation.
+The faces of two were pale and deep-lined; the face of the 
+third expressed a mixture of condolence and triumph. These three 
+gentlemen were the archbishop, the chancellor and the Austrian 
+ambassador. History has not taken into account what passed 
+between these three men, but subsequent events proved that it 
+signified disaster to one who dreamed of conquest and of power.
+
+Said the ambassador, rising: "After what has been said, his 
+Imperial Majesty will, I can speak authoritatively, further 
+discredit Walmoden; for I have this day received information 
+from a reliable source which precludes any rehabilitation of 
+that prince. My deepest sympathies are with her Highness; his 
+Majesty highly honored her unfortunate father. Permit me to bid 
+you good day, for you know that the matter under my hand needs 
+my immediate attention."
+
+When he had gone the prelate said: "My friend, our services to 
+the kingdom are nearly over."
+
+"We are lost!" replied the chancellor. "The king is happy, 
+indeed."
+
+"I find," said the prelate, "that we have been lost for ten 
+years. Had this Englishman proved true, it would not have 
+mattered; had Prince Frederick arrived in time, still it would 
+not have mattered. But above all, I was determined that Madame 
+the duchess should not triumph. The end was written ten years 
+ago. How invincible is fate! How incontestible its decrees!"
+
+In the lower town the students were preparing a riot, which was 
+to take place that night. Old Stuler's was thronged. Stuler 
+himself looked on indifferently, even listlessly. He had heard 
+of Kopf's death.
+
+It was half after five of the afternoon. Six miles beyond the 
+Althofen bridge, in all thirteen miles from Bleiberg, a long, 
+low cloud of dust hung over the king's highway. This cloud of 
+dust was caused by the hurried, rhythmic pad-pad of human feet, 
+the striking of hoofs and the wheels of cannon. It marked the 
+progress of an army. To the great surprise of the Marshal, the 
+prince and the staff, they had pushed thus far during the 
+afternoon without seeing a sign of the enemy. Was Madame asleep? 
+Was she so confident her projects were unknown that she had 
+chosen night as the time of her attack? Night, indeed, when the 
+strength of her forces would be a matter of conjecture to the 
+assaulted, who at the suddenness of her approach would succumb 
+to panic! The prince was jubilant and hopeful. He had no doubt 
+that they would arrive at the pass just as Madame was issuing 
+forth. This meant an easy victory, for once the guns covered the 
+narrow pass, though Madame's army were ten times as strong, its 
+defeat was certain. A small force might hold it in check for 
+hours.
+
+A squadron of cuirassiers had been sent forward to reconnoiter, 
+and as yet none had returned with alarms. The road had many 
+windings, and was billowed frequently with hills, and ran 
+through small forests. Only the vast blue bulk of the mountains 
+remained ever in view.
+
+"We shall drink at the Red Chateau to-night," said the prince, 
+gaily, to Maurice.
+
+"That we shall," replied Maurice; "and the best in the cellars."
+
+Only the Marshal said nothing; he knew what war was. In his 
+youth he had served in Transylvania, and he was not minded to 
+laugh and jest. Then, too, there was injustice on both sides. 
+Poor devil! as his thoughts recurred to the king. Touched for 
+the moment by the wings of ambition, which is at best a white 
+vulture, he had usurped another's throne, and to this end! But 
+he was less answerable than the archbishop, who had urged him.
+
+Occasionally he glanced back at the native troops, the foot, the 
+horse, the artillery, and scowled. From these his glance 
+wandered to the cold, impassive face of General Kronau, who rode 
+at his side, and he rubbed his nose. Kronau had been a favorite 
+of Albrecht's . . . How would he act? In truth, the Marshal's 
+thoughts were not altogether pleasant. Some of these men 
+surrounding him, exchanging persiflage, might never witness 
+another sunset. For, while the world would look upon this 
+encounter as one looks upon a comedy, for some it would serve as 
+tragedy. Often he lent his ear to the gay banter of the young 
+American, and watched the careless smile on his face. What was 
+he doing here? Why was he risking his life for no cause whatever,
+an alien, in natural sympathy neither with the kingdom nor with 
+the duchy? A sad, grim smile parted his lips.
+
+"O, the urbanity of the young and the brave!" he murmured.
+
+Maurice felt the old familiar exhilaration--the soldier's 
+exhilaration--quicken the beat of his pulse. He did not ask 
+himself why he was here; he knew why. A delightful flower had 
+sprung up in his heart, and fate had nipped it. Whither this new 
+adventure would lead him he cared not. From now on life for him 
+must be renewed by continual change and excitement. Since no one 
+depended on him, his life was his to dispose of as he willed. 
+Friends? He laughed. He knew the world too well. He himself was 
+his best friend, for he had always been true to himself.
+
+He might be shot, but he had faced that possibility before. 
+Besides, to-day's experience would be new to him. He had never 
+witnessed a battle in the open, man to man, in bright, 
+resplendent uniforms. A ragged, dusty troop of brown-skinned men 
+in faded blue, with free and easy hats, irregular of formation, 
+no glory, no brilliancy, skirmishing with outlawed white men and 
+cunning Indians, that was the extent of his knowledge by 
+experience. True, these self-same men in dingy blue fought with 
+a daring such as few soldiers living possessed; but they lacked 
+the ideal picturesqueness which made this army so attractive.
+
+The sharp edges of his recent fatigue were not yet dulled, but 
+his cuirass sat lightly upon him, the sound of the dangling 
+saber at his side smote pleasantly his ear, and the black 
+Mecklenberg under him was strong and active. To return to 
+Madame's chateau in the guise of a conqueror was a most engaging 
+thought. She had humbled his self-love, now to humble hers! He 
+no longer bothered himself about Beauvais, whose case he had 
+placed in the hands of the Austrian ambassador.
+
+Gay and debonair he rode that late September afternoon. No man 
+around him had so clear an eye nor so constant a vivacity. Since 
+he had nothing but his life to lose, he had no fear. Let the 
+theater be full of light while the play lasted, and let the 
+curtain fall to a round of huzzas! For a few short hours ago he 
+had kissed a woman's hand and had looked into her sad brown eyes.
+"Why you do this I do not know, nor shall I ask. Monsieur, my 
+prayers go with you." Was not that an amulet? His diplomatic 
+career! He fell to whistling.
+
+"Ah! que j'aime les militaires!"
+
+More than once the prince felt the sting of envy in his heart at 
+the sight of this embodiment of supreme nonchalance. It spoke of 
+a healthy salt in the veins, a salt such as kings themselves can 
+not always boast of. A foreigner, a republican? No matter; a 
+gallant man.
+
+"Monsieur," he said impulsively, "you shall always possess my 
+friendship, once we are well out of this."
+
+"Thanks, your Highness," replied Maurice, and laughing; "the 
+after-thought is timely!"
+
+The sun lay close to the western rim of hills; an opal sky 
+encompassed the earth; the air was balmy.
+
+"The French call this St. Martin's summer," said Maurice. "In my 
+country we call it Indian summer--ah!" lifting in his stirrups.
+
+The army was approaching a hill, when suddenly a whirlwind of 
+dust rolled over the summit, and immediately a reconnoitering 
+patrol came dashing into view, waving their sabers aloft. . . . 
+The enemy was less than a mile away, and advancing rapidly.
+
+To anticipate. Madame the duchess had indeed contemplated 
+striking the blow at night. That morning, like the brave Amazon 
+she was, she had pitched her tent in the midst of her army, to 
+marshal and direct its forces. It was her intention to be among 
+the first to enter Bleiberg; for she was a soldier's daughter, 
+and could master the inherent fears of her sex.
+
+That same morning a woman entered the lines and demanded an 
+audience. What passed between her and Madame the duchess others 
+never knew. She had also been apprised of the prisoners' escape, 
+but, confident that they would not be able to make a crossing, 
+she disdained pursuit. The prince had missed his wedding day; he 
+was no longer of use to her. As to the American, he would become 
+lost, and that would be the end of him.
+
+But the Englishman. . . . He was conscience eternally barking at 
+her heels. The memory of that kiss still rankled in her mind, 
+and not an hour went by in which she did not chide herself for 
+the folly. How to get rid of him perplexed her. Here he was, in 
+the uniform of a Lieutenant-Colonel, ready to go to any lengths 
+at a sign from her. There was something in her heart which she 
+had not yet analyzed. First of all, her crown; as to her heart, 
+there was plenty of time in which to study that peculiar and 
+unstable organ. The possibility of the prince's arriving in 
+Bleiberg before her in no way disturbed her. Whenever her attack 
+was made, failure would not attend it. She broke camp at two 
+o'clock and took the road leisurely toward Bleiberg.
+
+Thus, the two armies faced each other comparatively in the open. 
+A battle hung in the air.
+
+The king's forces came to an abrupt halt. Orderlies dashed to 
+and fro. The artillery came rumbling and creaking to the front, 
+wheeled, the guns unlimbered and ranged so as to enfilade the 
+road. The infantry deployed to right and left while the cavalry 
+swung into position on the flanks. All this was accomplished 
+with the equanimity of dress parade. Maurice could not control 
+his admiration. Madame, he thought, might win her crown, but at 
+a pretty cost.
+
+The Marshal and the staff posted themselves on the right breast 
+of the hill, from whence, by the aid of binoculars, they could 
+see the enemy. From time to time General Kronau nervously 
+smoothed his beard, formed his lips into words, but did not 
+utter them, and glanced slyly from the corner of his eye at the 
+Marshal, who was intent on the enemy's approach. Maurice was 
+trying with naked eye to pierce the forest and the rolling 
+ground beyond, and waiting for the roar of the guns.
+
+Orders had been issued for the gunners to get the range and 
+commence firing; but as the gunners seemed over long in getting 
+down to work, Maurice gazed around impatiently. The blood rushed 
+into his heart. For this is what he saw: the infantry leaning 
+indolently on their guns, their officers snipping the grasses 
+with their swords; the cuirassiers hidden in the bulk of the 
+native cavalry; artillerymen seated carelessly on the caissons, 
+and the gunners smoking and leaning against the guns. All action 
+was gone, as if by magic; nothing but a strange tableau remained!
+Moreover, a troop of native cavalry, which, for no apparent 
+reason, had not joined the main body, had closed in on the 
+general staff. Appalled by a sudden thought, Maurice touched the 
+prince, who lowered his glasses and turned his head. 
+Bewilderment widened his eyes, and the flush on his cheeks died 
+away. He, too, saw.
+
+"Devil's name!" the Marshal burst forth, "why don't the 
+blockheads shoot? The enemy--" He stopped, his chin fell, for, 
+as he turned, a single glance explained all to him. The red on 
+his face changed into a sickly purple, and the glasses slipped 
+from his hands and broke into pieces on the stony ground.
+
+"Marshal," began General Kronau, "I respect your age and valiant 
+services. That is why we have come thirteen miles. You may keep 
+your sword, and also Monsieur the prince. For the present you 
+are prisoners."
+
+For a moment the Marshal was stupefied. His secret fears had 
+been realized. Suddenly a hoarse oath issued from his lips, he 
+dragged his saber from the scabbard, raised it and made a 
+terrible sweep at the General. But the stroke fell on a dozen 
+intervening blades, and the Marshal's arms were held and forced 
+to his sides.
+
+"Kronau . . . you?" he roared. "Betrayed! You despicable coward 
+and traitor! You--" But speech forsook him, and he would have 
+fallen from the horse but for those who held his arms.
+
+"Traitor?" echoed Kronau, coolly. "To what and to whom? I am 
+serving my true and legitimate sovereign. I am also serving 
+humanity, since this battle is to be bloodless. It is you who 
+are the traitor. You swore allegiance to the duke, and that 
+allegiance is the inheritance of the daughter. How have you kept 
+your oath?"
+
+But the Marshal was incapable of answer. One looking at him 
+would have said that he was suffering from a stroke of apoplexy.
+
+"I admit," went on the General, not wholly unembarrassed, "that 
+the part I play is not an agreeable one to me, but it is 
+preferable to the needless loss of human life. The duchess was 
+to have entered Bleiberg at night, to save us this present 
+dishonor, if you persist in calling it such. But his Highness, 
+who is young, and Monseigneur the archbishop, who dreams of 
+Richelieu, made it impossible. No harm is intended to any one."
+
+The prince, white and shivering as if with ague, broke his sword 
+on the pommel of the saddle and hurled the pieces at Kronau, who 
+permitted them to strike him.
+
+"God's witness," the prince cried furiously, "but your victory 
+shall be short-lived. I have an army, trusty to the last sword, 
+and you shall feel the length of its arm within forty-eight 
+hours."
+
+"Perhaps," said Kronau, shrugging.
+
+"It is already on the way."
+
+"Your Highness forgets that Carnavia belongs to the 
+confederation, and that the king, your father, dare not send you 
+troops without the consent of the emperor, which, believe me, 
+will never be given;" and he urged his horse down the slope.
+
+The army of the duchess had now gained the open. The advance was 
+composed of cavalry, which came along the road with wings on 
+either side, and with great dash and splendor.
+
+A noisy cheer arose, to be faintly echoed by the oncoming 
+avalanche of white horses and dazzling blue uniforms.
+
+This was the incident upon which Madame the duchess relied.
+
+With rage and chagrin in his heart, Maurice viewed the scene. 
+The knell of the Osians had been struck. He gazed forlornly at 
+the cuirassiers; they at least had come to sell their lives 
+honestly for their bread. Presently the two armies came together;
+all was confusion and cheers. Kronau approached the leader of 
+the cavalry. . . . Maurice was greatly disturbed. He leaned 
+toward the prince.
+
+"Your Highness," he whispered, "I am going to make a dash for 
+the road."
+
+"Yes, yes!" replied the prince, intuitively. "My God, yes! Warn 
+her to fly, so that she will not be compelled to witness this 
+cursed woman's triumph. Save her that humiliation. Go, and God 
+be with you, my friend! We are all dishonored. The Marshal looks 
+as if he were dying."
+
+The native troopers, in their eagerness to witness the meeting 
+between Kronau and the former Colonel of the cuirassiers, had 
+pushed forward. A dozen, however, had hemmed in the Marshal, the 
+prince and Maurice. But these were standing in their stirrups. 
+Maurice gradually brought his horse about so that presently he 
+was facing north. Directly in front of him was an opening. He 
+grasped his saber firmly and pressed the spurs. Quick as he was, 
+two sabers barred his way, but he beat them aside, went 
+diagonally down the hill, over the stone wall and into the road.
+
+While he was maneuvering for this dash, one man had been eying 
+him with satisfaction. As the black horse suddenly sank from 
+view behind the hill, Beauvais, to the astonishment of Kronau, 
+drew his revolver.
+
+"There goes a man," he cried, "who must not escape. He is so 
+valuable that I shall permit no one but myself to bring him back!"
+And the splendid white animal under him bounded up the hill 
+and down the other side.
+
+Beauvais had a well-defined purpose in following alone. He was 
+determined that one Maurice Carewe should not bother anyone 
+hereafter; he knew too much.
+
+The white horse and the black faded away in the blur of rising 
+dust.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+A PAGE FROM TASSO
+
+For a long time Maurice rode with his head almost touching the 
+coal black mane of his gallant Mecklenberg. Twice he glanced 
+back to see who followed, but the volume of dust which rolled 
+after him obscured all behind. He could hear the far-off hammer 
+of hoofs, but this, mingling with the noise of his own horse, 
+confused him as to the number of pursuers. He reasoned that he 
+was well out of range, for there came no report of firearms. The 
+road presently described a semi-circle, passing through a meager 
+orchard. Once beyond this he turned again in the saddle.
+
+"Only one; that is not so bad as it might be. It is one to one." 
+But a second glance told him who this solitary pursuer was. "The 
+devil!" he laughed--as one of Tasso's heroes might have laughed!-
+-"The devil! how that man loves me!" He was confident that the 
+white horse would never overtake the black.
+
+On they flew, pursued and pursuer. At length Maurice bit his lip 
+and frowned. The white horse was growing larger; the distance 
+between was lessening, slowly but certainly.
+
+"Good boy!" he said encouragingly to the Mecklenberg. "Good boy!"
+
+Deserted farm houses swept past; hills rose and vanished, but 
+still the white horse crept up, up, up. The distance ere another 
+half mile had gone had diminished to four hundred yards; from 
+four hundred it fell to three hundred, from three hundred to two 
+hundred. The Mecklenburg was doing glorious work, but the 
+marvelous stride of the animal in the rear was matchless. 
+Suddenly Maurice saw a tuft of the red plume on his helmet 
+spring out ahead of him and sail away, and a second later came 
+the report. One, he counted; four more were to follow. Next a 
+stream of fire gassed along his cheek, and something warm 
+trickled down the side of his neck. Two, he counted, his face 
+now pale and set. The third knocked his scabbard into the air.
+
+Quickly he shifted his saber to the left, dropped the reins and 
+drew his own revolver. He understood. He was not to be taken 
+prisoner. Beauvais intended to kill him offhand. Only the dead 
+keep secrets. Maurice flung about and fired three consecutive 
+times. The white horse reared, and the shako of his master fell 
+into the dust, but there was no other result. As Maurice pressed 
+the trigger for the fourth time the revolver was violently 
+wrenched from his hand, and a thousand needles seemed to be 
+quivering in the flesh of his arm and hand.
+
+"My God, what a shot!" he murmured. "I am lost!"
+
+Simultaneous with the fifth and last shot came sensation 
+somewhat like that caused by a sound blow in the middle of the 
+back. Strange, but he felt no pain, neither was there an 
+accompanying numbness. Then he remembered his cuirass, which was 
+of steel an eighth of an inch thick. It had saved his life. The 
+needles began to leave his right hand and arm, and he knew that 
+he had received no injury other than a shock. He passed the 
+saber back to his right hand. He had no difficulty in holding it.
+Gradually his grip grew strong and steady.
+
+Beauvais was now within twenty yards of Maurice. Had he been 
+less eager and held his fire up to this point, Maurice had been 
+a dead man. The white horse gained every moment. A dull fury 
+grew into life in Maurice's heart. Instead of continuing the 
+race, he brought the Mecklenberg to his haunches and wheeled. He 
+made straight for Beauvais, who was surprised at this change of 
+tactics. In the rush they passed each other and the steel hummed 
+spitefully through space. Both wheeled again.
+
+"Your life or mine!" snarled Maurice. His coolness, however, was 
+proportionate to his rage. For the first time in his life the 
+lust to kill seized him.
+
+"It shall be yours, damn you!" replied Beauvais.
+
+"The Austrian ambassador has your history; kill me or not, you 
+are lost." Maurice made a sweep at his enemy's head and missed.
+
+Beauvais replied in kind, and it flashed viciously off the point 
+of Maurice's saber. He had only his life to lose, but it had 
+suddenly become precious to him; Beauvais had not only his life, 
+but all that made life worth living. His onslaught was terrible. 
+Besides, he was fighting against odds; he wore no steel 
+protector. Maurice wore his only a moment longer. A cut in the 
+side severed the lacings, and the sagging of the cuirass greatly 
+handicapped him. He pressed the spurs and dashed away, while 
+Beauvais cursed him for a cowardly cur. Maurice, by this 
+maneuver, gained sufficient time to rid himself of the 
+cumbersome steel. What he lost in protection, he gained in 
+lightness and freedom. Shortly Beauvais was at him again. The 
+time for banter had passed; they fought grimly and silently. The 
+end for one was death. Beauvais knew that if his antagonist 
+escaped this time the life he longed for, the power and honor it 
+promised, would never be his. On his side, Maurice was equally 
+determined to live.
+
+The horses plunged and snorted, reared and swayed and bit. 
+Sometimes they carried their masters several yards apart, only 
+to come smashing together again.
+
+The sun was going down, and a clear, white light prevailed. Afar 
+in the field a herd was grazing, but no one would call them to 
+the sheds. Master and mistress had long since taken flight.
+
+The duel went on. Maurice was growing tired. By and by he began 
+to rely solely on the defense. When they were close, Beauvais 
+played for the point; the moment the space widened he took to 
+the edge. He saw what Maurice felt--the weakening, and he 
+indulged in a cruel smile. They came close; he made as though to 
+give the point. Maurice, thinking to anticipate, reached. Quick 
+as light Beauvais raised his blade and brought it down with 
+crushing force, standing the while in the stirrups. The blow 
+missed Maurice's head by an inch, but it sank so deeply in his 
+left shoulder that it splintered the collar bone and stopped 
+within a hair of the great artery that runs underneath.
+
+The world turned red, then black. When it grew light again 
+Maurice beheld the dripping blade swinging aloft again. Suddenly 
+the black horse snapped at the white, which veered. The stroke 
+which would have split Maurice's skull in twain, fell on the 
+rear of the saddle, and the blade was so firmly imbedded in the 
+wooden molding that Beauvais could not withdraw it at once. 
+Blinded by pain as he was, and fainting, yet Maurice saw his 
+chance. He thrust with all his remaining strength at the brown 
+throat so near him. And the blade went true. The other's body 
+stiffened, his head flew back, his eyes started; he clutched 
+wildly at the steel, but his hands had not the power to reach it.
+A bloody foam gushed between his lips; his mouth opened; he 
+swayed, and finally tumbled into the road--dead.
+
+As Maurice gazed down at him, between the dead eyes and his own 
+there passed a vision of a dark-skinned girl, who, if still 
+living, dwelt in a lonely convent, thousands of miles away.
+
+Maurice was sensible of but little pain; a pleasant numbness 
+began to steal over him. His sleeve was soaked, his left hand 
+was red, and the blood dripped from his fingers and made round 
+black spots in the dust of the road. A circle of this blackness 
+was widening about the head of the fallen man. Maurice watched 
+it, fascinated. . . He was dead, and the fact that he was a 
+prince did not matter.
+
+It seemed to Maurice that his own body was transforming into 
+lead, and he vaguely wondered how the horse could bear up such a 
+weight. He was sleepy, too. Dimly it came to him that he also 
+must be dying. . . . No; he would not die there, beside this man.
+He still gripped his saber. Indeed, his hand was as if soldered 
+to the wire and leather windings on the hilt. Mollendorf had 
+said that Beauvais was invincible. . . . Beauvais was dead. Was 
+he, too, dying? . . . No; he would not die there. The 
+Mecklenberg started forward at a walk; a spur had touched him.
+
+"No!" Maurice cried, throwing off the drowsiness. "My God, I 
+will not die here! . . . Go, boy!" The Mecklenberg set off, 
+loping easily.
+
+His recent enemy, the great white horse, stood motionless in the 
+center of the road, and followed him with large, inquiring eyes. 
+He turned and looked at the silent huddled mass in the dust at 
+his feet, and whinneyed. But he did not move; a foot still 
+remained in the stirrup.
+
+Soon Maurice remembered an episode of his school days, when, in 
+the spirit of precocious research, he had applied carbolic acid 
+to his arm. It occurred to him that he was now being bathed in 
+that burning fluid. He was recovering from the shock. With 
+returning sense came the increase of pain, pain so tormenting 
+and exquisite that sobs rose in his throat and choked him. 
+Perspiration matted his hair; every breath he took was a knife 
+thrust, and the rise and fall of the horse, gentle as it was, 
+caused the earth to reel and careen heavenward.
+
+Bleiberg; he was to reach Bleiberg. He repeated this thought 
+over and over. Bleiberg, to warn her. Why should he go to 
+Bleiberg to warn her? What was he doing here, he who loved life 
+so well? What had led him into this? . . . There had been a 
+battle, but neither army had been cognizant of it. He endeavored 
+to move his injured arm, and found it bereft of locomotion. The 
+tendons had been cut. And he could not loosen his grip on the 
+saber which he held in his right hand. The bridle rein swung 
+from side to side.
+
+Rivulets of fire began to run up and down his side; the cords in 
+his neck were stiffening. Still the blood went drip, drip, drip, 
+into the dust. Would he reach Bleiberg, or would he die on the 
+way? God! for a drink of water, cold water. He set his teeth in 
+his lips to neutralize the pain in his arm and shoulder. His 
+lips were numb, and the pressure of his teeth was as nothing. 
+From one moment to the next he expected to drop from the saddle, 
+but somehow he hung on; the spark of life was tenacious. The 
+saber dangled on one side, the scabbard on the other. The blood, 
+drying in places, drew the skin as tight as a drumhead.
+
+On, on, on; up long inclines, down the steeps; he lost all track 
+of time, and the darkness thickened and the stars stood out more 
+clearly. . . . He could look back on a clean life; true, there 
+were some small stains, but these were human. Strange fancies 
+jostled one another; faces long forgot reappeared; scenes from 
+boyhood rose before him. Home! He had none, save that which was 
+the length and breadth of his native land. On, on, on; the low 
+snuffle of the horse sometimes aroused him from the stupor.
+
+"Why you do this I do not know, nor shall I ask. Monsieur, my 
+prayers go with you!" . . . She had said that to him, and had 
+given him her hand to kiss; a princess, one of the chosen and 
+the few. To live long enough to see her again; a final service--
+and adieu! . . . Ah, but it had been a good fight, a good fight. 
+No fine phrases; nothing but the lust for blood; a life for a 
+life; a game in which the winner was also like to lose. A gray 
+patch in the white of the road attracted his attention--a bridge.
+
+"Water!" he murmured.
+
+Mottled with the silver of the stars, it ran along through the 
+fields; a brook, shallow and narrow, but water. The perfume of 
+the grasses was sweet; the horse sniffed joyously. He stopped of 
+his own accord. Maurice had strength enough to dismount. The 
+saber slid from his grasp. He staggered down to the water. In 
+kneeling a faintness passed over him; he rolled into the brook 
+and lay there until the water, almost clogging his throat and 
+nostrils, revived him. He crawled to his knees, coughing and 
+choking. The contact of the cold with the burning wound caused a 
+delightful sensation.
+
+"Water!" he said, and splashed it in his face.
+
+The horse had come down from the road. He had not waited for an 
+invitation. He drank thirstily at the side of his master. The 
+water gurgled in his long, black throat.
+
+"Good boy!" Maurice called, and dashed water against his 
+shoulder. "Good boy!" he remembered that the horse in biting the 
+white one had saved his life.
+
+Each handful of the cold liquid caused him to gasp; but soon the 
+fever and fire died out, leaving only the duller pain. When he 
+rose from his knees, however, he found that the world had not 
+yet ceased its wild reeling. He stooped to regain his saber, and 
+fell into the dust; though to him it was not he who fell, but 
+the earth which rose. He struggled to his feet, leaned panting 
+on his saber, and tried to steady himself. He laughed 
+hysterically. He had dismounted, but he knew that he could never 
+climb to the back of the horse; and Bleiberg might yet be miles 
+away. To walk the distance; was it possible? To reach Bleiberg 
+before Madame. . . . Madame the duchess and her army! He laughed 
+again, but there was a wild strain in his laughter. Ah, God! 
+what a farce it was! One man dead and another dying; the 
+beginning and the end of the war. The comic opera! La Grande 
+Duchesse! And the fool of an Englishman was playing Fritz! He 
+started down the road, his body slouched forward, the saber 
+trailing in the dust. . . .
+
+"Voici le sabre de mon pere!"
+
+The hand of madness had touched him. The Mecklenberg followed at 
+his heels as a dog would have followed his master.
+
+Less than a mile away a yellow haze wavered in the sky. It was 
+the reflection of the city lights.
+
+Maurice passed under the town gates, the wild song on his lips, 
+his eyes bloodshot, his hair dank about his brow, conscious of 
+nothing but the mad, rollicking rhythm. Nobody molested him; 
+those he met gave him the full width of the road. A strange 
+picture they presented, the man and the troop horse. Some one 
+recognized the trappings of the horse; half an hour later it was 
+known throughout the city that the king's army had been defeated 
+and that Madame was approaching. Students began their 
+depredations. They built bonfires. They raided the office of the 
+official paper, and destroyed the presses and type. Later they 
+marched around the Hohenstaufenplatz, yelling and singing.
+
+Once a gendarme tried to stop Maurice and inquire into his 
+business. The inquisition was abruptly ended by a cut from the 
+madman's sword. The gendarme took to his legs. Maurice continued,
+and the Mecklenberg tramped on after him. Into the Konigstrasse 
+they turned. At this time, before the news was known, the street 
+was deserted. Up the center of it the man went, his saber 
+scraping along the asphalt, the horse always following.
+
+
+
+Voici le sabre de mon pere! Tu vas le mettre a ton cote! Apres 
+la victoire, j'espere Te revoir en bonne sante. . . . .
+
+The street lamps swayed; sometimes a dozen revolved on one post, 
+and Maurice would stop long enough to laugh. How easy it was to 
+walk! All he had to do was to lift a foot, and the pavement 
+would rise to meet it. The moon, standing high behind him, cast 
+a long, weird shadow, and he staggered after it and cut at it 
+with the saber. It was only when he saw the lights of the royal 
+palace and the great globes on the gate posts that sanity 
+returned. This sanity was of short duration.
+
+"To the palace!" he cried; "to the palace! To warn her!" And he 
+stumbled against the gates, still calling, "To the palace! To 
+the palace!"
+
+The cuirassiers who had been left behind to protect the inmates 
+of the palace, were first aroused by the yelling and singing of 
+the students. They rushed out of the guard room and came running 
+to the gates, which they opened. The body of a man rolled inside.
+They stopped and examined him; the uniform was theirs. The face 
+they looked into was that of the handsome young foreigner who, 
+that day, had gone forth from the city, a gay and gallant figure,
+who sat his horse so well that he earned their admiration. What 
+could this mean? And where were the others? Had there been a 
+desperate battle?
+
+"Run back to the guard room, one of you, and fetch some brandy. 
+He lives." And Lieutenant Scharfenstein took his hand from the 
+insensible man's heart. Pulsation was there, but weak and 
+intermittent. "Sergeant, take ten men and clear the square. If 
+they refuse to leave, kill! Madame is not yet queen by any means."
+
+The men scattered. One soon returned with the brandy. 
+Scharfenstein moistened the wounded man's lips and placed his 
+palm under the nose. Shortly Maurice opened his eyes, his half-
+delirious eyes.
+
+"To the palace!" he said, "to the palace--Ah!" He saw the faces 
+staring down at him. He struggled. Instinctively they all stood 
+back. What seemed incredible to them, he got to his knees, from 
+his knees to his feet, and propped himself against a gate post. 
+"Your life or mine!" he cried. "Come on; a man can die but once!"
+He lunged, and again they retreated. He laughed. "It was a 
+good fight!" He reeled off toward the palace steps. They did not 
+hinder him, but they followed, expecting each moment to see him 
+fall. But, he fell not. One by one he mounted the steps, 
+steadying himself with the saber. He gained the landing, once 
+more steadied himself, and vanished into the palace.
+
+"He is out of his head!" cried Scharfenstein, rushing up the 
+steps. "God knows what has happened!"
+
+He was in time to see Maurice lurch into the arms of Captain von 
+Mitter, who had barred the way to the private apartments.
+
+"Carewe! . . . What has happened? God's name, you are soaked in 
+blood!" Von Mitter held Maurice at arm's length. "A battle?"
+
+"Aye, a battle; one man is dead and another soon will be!" A 
+transient lucidity beamed in Maurice's eyes. "We were betrayed 
+by the native troops; they ran to meet Madame. . . . Marshal 
+Kampf, Prince Frederick, and the cuirassiers are prisoners. . . .
+I escaped. Beauvais, gave chase. . . . Wanted to kill me. . . .
+He gave me this. I ran him through the throat. . . . Knew him 
+in South America. . . . He's dead! Inform the archbishop and her 
+Highness that Madame is nearing the city. The king--"
+
+"Hush!" said von Mitter, with a finger on his lip; "hush! The 
+king died at six o'clock. God rest his soul!" He crossed himself.
+"A disgraceful day! Curse the scheming woman, could she not let 
+us bury him in peace? Prince Frederick's father refused to send 
+us aid."
+
+"I am dying," said Maurice with a sob. "Let me lie down 
+somewhere; if I fall I am a dead man." After a pause: "Take me 
+into the throne room. I shall last till Madame comes. Let her 
+find me there. . . . The brandy!"
+
+Scharfenstein held the flask to the sufferer's lips.
+
+"The throne room?" repeated von Mitter, surprised at this 
+strange request. "Well, why not? For what is a throne when there 
+is no king to sit on it? You will not die, my friend, though the 
+cut is a nasty one. What is an arm? Life is worth a thousand of 
+them! Quick! help me with him, Max!" for Maurice was reaching 
+blindly toward him.
+
+The three troopers who had followed Scharfenstein came up, and 
+the five of them managed to carry Maurice into the throne room, 
+and deposit him on the cushions at the foot of the dais. There 
+they left him.
+
+"Bad!" said von Mitter, as he came limping out into the corridor.
+"And he made such a brave show when he left here this afternoon.
+I have grown to love the fellow. A gallant man. I knew that the 
+native troops were up to something. So did the Colonel. Ach! I 
+would give a year of my life to have seen him and Beauvais. To 
+kill Beauvais, the best saber in the kingdom--it must have been 
+a fight worthy of the legends. A bad day! They will laugh at us. 
+But, patience, the archbishop has something to say before the 
+curtain falls. Poor young man! He will lose his arm, if not his 
+life."
+
+"But how comes he into all this?" asked Scharfenstein, 
+perplexedly.
+
+"It is not for me or you to question, Max," said von Mitter, 
+looking down. He had his own opinion, but he was not minded to 
+disclose it.
+
+"What are you going to do?"
+
+"Perform my duty until the end," sourly. "Go you and help 
+against the students, who have not manliness enough even to 
+respect the dead. The cowardly servants are all gone; save the 
+king's valet. There are only seven of us in all. I will seek the 
+king's physician; the dead are dead, so let us concern ourselves 
+with the living;" and he limped off toward the private 
+apartments.
+
+Scharfenstein hurried away to the square.
+
+In the royal bedchamber a girl murmured over a cold hand. "God 
+pity me; I am all, all alone!"
+
+The archbishop was kneeling at the foot of the bed. In his heart 
+was the bitterness of loss and defeat. His dreams of greatness 
+for this clay! The worldly pomp which was to have attended it! 
+Life was but a warm breath on the mirror of eternity; for one 
+the mirror was clear again.
+
+The square soon grew quiet; the students and the cuirassiers had 
+met for the last time. In the throne room shadows and silence 
+prevailed. Maurice lay upon the cushions, the hilt of the saber 
+still in his hand. Consciousness had returned, a clear, 
+penetrating consciousness. At the foot of the throne, he thought,
+and, mayhap, close to one not visible to the human eye! What a 
+checkerboard he had moved upon, and now the checkmate! So long 
+as the pain did not diminish, he was content; a sudden ease was 
+what he dreaded. Life was struggling to retain its hold. He did 
+not wish to die; he was young; there were long years to come; 
+the world was beautiful, and to love was the glory over it all. 
+He wondered if Beauvais still lay in the road where he had left 
+him. Again he could see that red saber swinging high; and he 
+shivered.
+
+Half an hour passed, then came the distant murmur of voices, 
+which expanded into tumult. The victorious army, the brave and 
+gallant army, had entered the city, and was streaming toward the 
+palaces. Huzzas rose amid the blaring of bugles. The timorous 
+came forth and added to the noise. The conquerors trooped into 
+the palace, and Madame the duchess looked with shining eyes at 
+the throne of her forefathers.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+
+WORMWOOD AND LEES
+
+Madame, like a statue of expectancy, riveted her gaze on the 
+throne. Hers at last! Her dreams were realized. She was no 
+longer a duchess by patent; she was a queen by right of 
+inheritance; she was now to be a power among the great. The 
+kingdom of her forefathers was hers. She had reached the goal 
+without bloodshed; she had been patient, and this was her reward.
+The blaze of her ambition dimmed all other stars. Her bosom 
+heaved, triumph flashed in her beautiful eyes, and a smile 
+parted her lips. Her first thought had been to establish 
+headquarters in the parlors of the Continental Hotel, and from 
+there to summon the archbishop, as a conqueror summons the chief 
+of the vanquished. But no; she could not wait; above all things 
+she desired the satisfaction of the eye. The throne of her 
+forefathers!
+
+"Mine!" she murmured.
+
+Over her shoulders peered eager faces, in which greed and 
+pleasure and impassibility were written. One face, however, had 
+on it the dull red of shame. Not until now did the full force of 
+his intended dishonesty come home to the Englishman; not until 
+now did he realize the complete degradation to which his uniform 
+had lowered him. His had been the hand to stay this misfortune, 
+and he had not lifted it. This king had been his father's friend;
+and he had taken up arms against him. O, he had begun life 
+badly; he was making the end still more dismal. Would this woman 
+ever be his? Her promises were not worth the air that had 
+carried them to his ear. He, the consort of a queen? A cold 
+sweat dampened his forehead. How he loved her! And that kiss. . . .
+Queen or not, he would not be her dupe, his would not be a 
+tame surrender.
+
+From the Platz and the Park, where the two armies had bivouacked,
+came an intermittent cheering. The flames of bonfires were 
+reflected on the windows, throwing out in dull, yellow relief 
+the faces of Madame and her staff.
+
+Between the private apartments of the king and the throne room 
+was a wide sliding door. Suddenly this opened and closed. With 
+his back against it, a pistol in one hand and a saber in the 
+other, stood Captain von Mitter, his face cold and resolute. All 
+eyes were instantly directed toward him.
+
+"Captain," said Madame, imperiously, "summon to me Monseigneur 
+the archbishop!"
+
+Her command fell on ears of stone. Von Mitter made no sign that 
+he heard her.
+
+"Take care, Monsieur," she warned; "I am mistress here. If you 
+will not obey me, my officers will."
+
+"Madame, I acknowledge no mistress save the daughter of the king.
+No one shall pass this door to announce your presence to 
+Monseigneur."
+
+This reply was greeted with sundry noises, such as sabers coming 
+from scabbards, clicking of pistol locks, and the moving of feet.
+Madame put out her hand suggestively, and the noise ceased. Von 
+Mitter smiled disdainfully, but did not stir.
+
+"I warn you, Madame," he said, "that this is war. I accept all 
+the responsibilities of my position. I know nothing of any 
+surrender or victory. To me you are simply an enemy. I will kill 
+any one who attempts to pass. I should be pleased if General 
+Kronau would make the first step to question my sincerity."
+
+Kronau's fingers twitched around his revolver, but Madame 
+touched his arm. She could read faces. The young Captain was in 
+earnest. She would temporize.
+
+"Captain, all here are prisoners of war," she said. "Do not 
+forget that soon there will be benefits for those who serve me."
+
+He laughed rudely. "I ask no benefits from your hands, Madame. I 
+would rather stand on the corner and beg." He sent an insolent, 
+contemptuous glance at Kronau, who could not support it. "And 
+now that you have gratified your curiosity, I beg you to 
+withdraw to the street. To-night this palace is a tomb, and woe 
+to those who commit sacrilege."
+
+"The king?" she said, struck by a thought which caused a red 
+spot to appear on each cheek.
+
+"Is dead. Go and leave us in peace."
+
+The wine which had tasted so sweet was full of lees, and the cup 
+wormwood. Madame looked down, while her officers moved uneasily 
+and glanced over their shoulders. Kronau brushed his forehead, 
+to find it wet. Madame regretted the surrendering to the impulse.
+Her haste to triumph was lacking both in dignity and judgment. 
+She had given the king so little place in her thoughts that the 
+shock of his death confused her. And there was something in the 
+calm, fearless contempt of the young soldier which embarrassed her.
+
+"In that case, Captain," she said, her voice uncertain and 
+constrained, "bid Monseigneur to wait on me at the Continental."
+
+"Whenever that becomes convenient, Madame, Monseigneur will 
+certainly confer with you and your rascally pack of officers." 
+He longed for some one to spring at him; he longed to strike a 
+blow in earnest.
+
+As he leaned against the door he felt it move. He stepped aside. 
+The door rolled back, and her Royal Highness, the archbishop and 
+the chancellor passed in. The princess's eyes were like dim 
+stars, but her fine nostrils palpitated, and her mouth was rigid 
+in disdain. The chancellor looked haggard and dispirited, and he 
+eyed all with the listlessness of a man who has given up hope. 
+The prelate's face was as finely drawn as an ancient cameo, and 
+as immobile. He gazed at Madame with one of those looks which 
+penetrate like acid; and, brave as she was, she found it 
+insupportable. There was a tableau of short duration.
+
+"Madame," said her Royal Highness, with a noble scorn, "what 
+would you say if one desecrated your father's tomb while you 
+were kneeling beside it? What would you say? In yonder room my 
+father lies dead, and your presence here, in whatever role, is 
+an insult. Are you, indeed, a woman? Have you no respect for 
+death and sorrow? Was the bauble so precious to your sight that 
+you could not wait till the last rites were paid to the dead? Is 
+your heart of stone, your mind devoid of pity and of conscience? 
+Are you lacking in magnanimity, which is the disposition of 
+great souls? Ah, Madame, you will never be great, for you have 
+stooped to treachery and deceit. You, a princess! You have 
+purchased with glittering promises that which in time would have 
+been given to you. And you will not fulfill these promises, for 
+honesty has no part in your affair. Shame on you, Madame. By 
+dishonorable means you have gained this room. By dishonorable 
+means you destroyed all those props on which my father leaned. 
+You knew that he had not long to live. Had you come to me as a 
+woman; had you opened your heart to me and confided your desires--
+Ah, Madame, how gladly would I have listened. Whatever it 
+signifies to you, this throne is nothing to me. Had you come 
+then--but, no! you must come to demand your rights when I am 
+defenseless. You must come with a sword when there is none to 
+defend. Is it possible that in our veins there runs a kindred 
+blood? And yet, Madame, I forgive you. Rule here, if you will; 
+but remember, between you and your crown there will always be 
+the shadow of disgrace. Monsieur," turning toward Fitzgerald, 
+whose shame was so great that it engulfed him, "your father and 
+mine were friends--I forgive you. Now, Madame, I pray you, go, 
+and leave me with my dead."
+
+The girlhood of Princess Alexia was gone forever.
+
+To Madame this rebuke was like hot iron on the flesh. It left 
+her without answer. Her proud spirit writhed. Before those 
+innocent eyes her soul lay bare, offering to the gaze an 
+ineffaceable scar. For the first time she saw her schemes in 
+their true light. Had any served her unselfishly? Aye, there was 
+one. And strangely enough, the first thought which formed in her 
+mind when chaos was passed, was of him.
+
+How would this rebuke affect her in his eyes? What was he to her 
+that she cared for his respect, his opinion, good or bad? What 
+was the meaning of the secret dread? How she hated him for his 
+honesty to her; for now perforce she must look up to him. She 
+had stepped down from the pinnacle of her pride to which she 
+might never again ascend. He had kissed her. How she hated him! 
+And yet . . . Ah, the wine was flat, tinctured with the 
+bitterness of gall, and her own greed had forced the cup to her 
+lips. She could not remain silent before this girl; she must 
+reply; her shame was too deep to resolve itself into silence.
+
+"Mademoiselle," she said, "I beg of you to accept my sympathies; 
+but the fortunes of war--"
+
+"Ah, Madame," interrupted the prelate, lifting his white, 
+attenuated hand, "we will discuss the fortunes of war--later."
+
+Madame choked back the sudden gust of rage. She glanced covertly 
+at the Englishman. But he, with wide-astonished eyes, was 
+staring at the foot of the throne, from which gradually rose a 
+terrible figure, covered with blood and caked with drying clay. 
+The figure leaned heavily on the hilt of a saber, and swayed 
+unsteadily. He drew all eyes.
+
+"Ha!" he said, with a prolonged, sardonic intonation, "is that 
+you, Madame the duchess? You are talking of war? What! and you, 
+my lord the Englishman? Ha! and war? Look at me, Madame; I have 
+been in a battle, the only one fought to-day. Look at me! Here 
+is the mark of that friend who watched over your interests. But 
+where is he? Eh? Where? Did you pick him up on the way? . . . . 
+He is dead. For all that he was a rascal, he died like a man. . .
+ . . as presently I shall die! Princes and kings and thrones; 
+the one die and the other crumble, but truth lives on. And you, 
+Madame, have learned the truth. Shame on your mean and little 
+souls! There was only one honest man among you, and you 
+dishonored him. The Marshal . . . I do not see him. An honest 
+man dies but once, but a traitor dies a thousand deaths. Kronau .
+ . . . is that your name? It was an honest one once. And the 
+paltry ends you gain! . . . . The grand duchess of Gerolstein ! .
+ . . . What a comic opera! Not even music to go by! Eh, you,--
+you Englishman, has Madame made you a Lieutenant?--a Captain?--a 
+General? What a farce! Nobles, you? I laugh at you all for a 
+pack of thieves, who are not content with the purse, but must 
+add honor to the bag. A man is what he makes himself. Medals and 
+clothes, medals and clothes; that is the sum of your nobility!" 
+He laughed, but the laughter choked in his throat, and he 
+staggered a few paces away from the throne.
+
+"Seize him!" cried Madame.
+
+When the men sprang forward to execute this command, Fitzgerald 
+barred the way.
+
+"No," he said doggedly; "you shall not touch him."
+
+"Stand aside, Monsieur," said Madame, determined to vent her 
+rage on some one.
+
+"Madame," said von Mitter, "I will shoot down the first man who 
+lays a hand on Monsieur Carewe."
+
+The princess, her heart beating wildly at the sudden knowledge 
+that lay written on the inner vision, a faintness stealing away 
+her sight, leaned back against the prelate.
+
+"He is dying," she whispered; "he is dying for me!"
+
+Maurice was now in the grasp of the final delirium. "Come on!" 
+he cried; "come on! I will show you how a brave man can die. 
+Come on, Messieurs Medals and Clothes! Aye, who will go out with 
+me?" He raised the saber, and it caught the flickering light as 
+it trailed a circle above his head. He stumbled toward them, 
+sweeping the air with the blade. Suddenly there came a change. 
+He stopped. The wild expression faded from his face; a surprised 
+look came instead. The saber slipped from his fingers and 
+clanged on the floor. He turned and looked at the princess, and 
+that glance conveyed to her the burden of his love. 
+"Mademoiselle . . . . " His knees doubled, he sank, rolled face 
+downward, and a dark stain appeared and widened on the marble 
+floor.
+
+"Go, Madame," said the prelate. "This palace is indeed a tomb." 
+He felt the princess grow limp on his arm. "Go."
+
+"Maurice!" cried Fitzgerald, springing to the side of the fallen 
+man. "My God! Maurice!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+
+INTO THE HANDS OF AUSTRIA
+
+Madame, surrounded by her staff and courtiers, sat in the main 
+salon of the Continental Hotel, waiting for the archbishop. The 
+false, self-seeking ministers of Leopold's reign crowded around 
+her to pay their respects, to compliment and to flatter her. 
+Already they saw a brilliant court; already they were 
+speculating on their appointments. Offices were plenty; new 
+embassies were to be created, old embassies to be filled anew.
+
+Madame listened to all coldly. There was a canker in her heart, 
+and no one who saw that calm, beautiful face of hers dreamed how 
+deeply the canker was eating. There were two men who held aloof 
+from compliments and flattery. On the face of one rested a moody 
+scowl; on the other, agony and remorse. These two men were 
+Colonel Mollendorf and Lord Fitzgerald. The same thought 
+occupied each mind; the scene in the throne room.
+
+Presently an orderly announced: "Monseigneur the archbishop."
+
+Madame arose, and all looked expectantly, toward the door.
+
+The old prelate entered, his head high and his step firm. He 
+appeared to see no one but Madame. But this time she met his 
+glance without a tremor.
+
+"Monseigneur," she began, "I have come into my own at last. But 
+for you and your ambitious schemes, all this would not have come 
+to pass. You robbed my father of his throne and set your puppet 
+there instead. By trickery my father was robbed of his lawful 
+inheritance. By trickery I was compelled to regain it. However, 
+I do not wish to make an enemy of you, Monseigneur. I have here 
+two letters. They come from Rome. In one is your recall, in the 
+other a cardinal's hat. Which do you prefer?"
+
+"Surely not the cardinal's hat," said the prelate. "Listen to me,
+Madame, for I have something to say to you which will cause you 
+some reflection. If I had any ambitions, they are gone; if I had 
+any dreams, they have vanished. Madame, some twenty years ago 
+your duchy was created. It was not done to please Albrecht's 
+younger brother, the duke, your father. Albrecht was childless. 
+When your father was given the duchy it was done to exclude 
+forever the house of Auersperg from reigning on this throne. You 
+say that you were tricked; well, and so was I. Unhappily I 
+touched the deeper current too late.
+
+"This poor king, who lies silent in the palace, was not my 
+puppet. I wished to make him great, and bask in his greatness. 
+But in that I failed; because Leopold was a poet and a 
+philosopher, and the greatness of earthly things did not concern 
+him. Leopold and I were dupes of Austria, as you are at this 
+moment, Madame. So long as Leopold reigned peacefully he was not 
+to be disturbed. Had you shown patience and resignation, 
+doubtless to-day you would be a queen. You will never be more 
+than a duchess.
+
+"Madame, you have done exactly as Austria intended you should. 
+There is no longer any kingdom." There was a subdued triumph in 
+his eyes. "To you," with a gesture toward the courtiers and 
+office-seekers, "to you I shall say, your own blind self-
+interest has destroyed you. Madame, you are bearing arms not 
+against this kingdom, but against Austria, since from to-day 
+this land becomes the property of the imperial crown. If you 
+struggle, it will be futilely. For, by this move of yours, 
+Austria will declare that this kingdom is a menace to the 
+tranquility of the confederation. Madame, there is no corner-
+stone to your edifice. This is what I wished to say to you. I 
+have done. Permit me to withdraw."
+
+For a moment his auditors were spellbound; then all the emotions 
+of the mind and heart portrayed themselves on the circle of 
+faces. Madame's face alone was inscrutable.
+
+"His Excellency, the Austrian ambassador!" announced the orderly.
+
+The archbishop bowed and left the apartment.
+
+"Your Highness," began the Austrian, "his Imperial Majesty 
+commands your immediate evacuation of Bleiberg, and that you 
+delay not your departure to the frontier. This kingdom is a 
+crown land. It shall remain so by the consent of the 
+confederation. If you refuse to obey this injunction, an army 
+will enforce the order. Believe me, Madame, this office is 
+distasteful to me, but it was not avoidable. What disposition am 
+I to submit to his Majesty?"
+
+"Monsieur," she said, "I am without choice in the matter. To pit 
+my forces against the emperor's would be neither politic nor 
+sensible. I submit." There was not a sign of any emotion, no 
+hint of the terrible wrath which lay below the surface of those 
+politely modulated tones. But it seemed to her as she stood 
+there, the object of all eyes, that some part of her soul had 
+died. Her pride surmounted the humiliation, the pride of a woman 
+and a princess. She would show no weakness to the world.
+
+"Then, Madame," said the ambassador, suppressing the admiration 
+in his eyes at this evidence of royal nonchalance, "I shall 
+inform his Majesty at once."
+
+When he had gone, Madame turned coldly to her stricken followers.
+"Messieurs, the fortunes of war are not on our side. I thank 
+you for your services. Now leave me; I wish to be alone."
+
+One by one they filed out into the corridors. The orderly was 
+the last to leave, and he closed the door behind him. Madame 
+surveyed the room. All the curtains were drawn. She was alone. 
+She stood idly fingering the papers which lay scattered on the 
+table. Suddenly she lifted her hands above her head and clenched 
+them in a burst of silent rage. A dupe! doubly a dupe! To-morrow 
+the whole world would laugh at her, and she was without means of 
+wreaking vengeance. Presently the woman rose above the princess. 
+She sat down, laid her face on her arms and wept.
+
+Fitzgerald stepped from behind one of the curtains. He had taken 
+refuge there during the archbishop's speech. He had not the 
+strength to witness the final humiliation of the woman he loved. 
+He was gazing out of the window at the troops in the Platz when 
+the door closed.
+
+Madame heard the rustle of the curtain and looked up. She sprang 
+to her feet, her eyes blazing.
+
+"You?" she cried. "You? You have dared to hide that you might 
+witness my weakness and my tears? You. . . ."
+
+"Madame!"
+
+"Go! I hate you!"
+
+"Ah, Madame, we always hate those whom we have wronged. Do not 
+forget that I love you, with a love that passes convention."
+
+"Monsieur, I am yet a princess. Did you not hear me bid you go?"
+
+"Why?" in a voice singularly free from agitation. "Because I am 
+the only man who has served you unselfishly? Is that the reason, 
+Madame? You have laughed at me. I love you. You have broken me. 
+I love you. I can never look an honest man in the face again. I 
+love you. Though the shade of my father should rise to accuse me,
+still would I say that I love you. Madame, will you find 
+another love like mine, the first love of a man who will know no 
+second? Forgive me if I rejoice in your despair, for your 
+despair is my hope. As a queen you would be too far away; but in 
+your misfortune you come so near! Madame, I shall follow you 
+wherever you go to tell you that I love you. You will never be 
+able to shut your ears to my voice; far or near, you will always 
+hear me saying that I love you. Ambition soars but a little way; 
+love has no fetters. Madame, your lips were given to me. Can you 
+forget that?"
+
+"Monsieur, what do you wish?" subdued by the fervor of his tones.
+
+"You! nothing in the world but you."
+
+"Princesses such as I am do not wed for love. What! you take 
+advantage of my misfortune, the shattering of my dreams, to 
+force your love upon me?"
+
+"Madame," the pride of his race lighting his eyes, "confess to 
+me that you did not win my love to play with it. If my heart was 
+necessary to your happiness, which lay in these shattered dreams,
+tell me, and I will go. My love is so great that it does not 
+lack generosity."
+
+For reply she sorted the papers and extended a blood-stained 
+packet toward him. "Here, Monsieur, are your consols." But the 
+moment his hand touched them, she made as though to take them 
+back. On the top of the packet was the letter she had written to 
+him, and on which he had written his scornful reply to her. She 
+paled as she saw him unfold it.
+
+"So, Madame, my love was a pastime?" He came close to her, and 
+his look was like an invisible hand bearing down on her. "Madame,
+I will go."
+
+"No, no!" she cried, yielding to the impulse which suddenly laid 
+hold of her. "Not you! You shall not misjudge me. No, not you! 
+Those consols were given to me by the woman of your guide, Kopf, 
+who found them no one knows how. They were given to me this 
+morning. That letter. . . . . I did not intend that you should 
+see it. No, Monsieur; you shall not misjudge the woman, however 
+you judge the princess. Forgive me, it was not the woman who 
+sought your love; it was the princess who had need of it.
+
+"I thought it would be but a passing fancy. I did not dream of 
+this end. To-morrow I shall be laughed at, and I cannot defend 
+myself as a man can. I must submit; I must smile and cover my 
+chagrin. O, Monsieur, do not speak to me of love; there is 
+nothing in my heart but rage and bitterness. To stoop as I have 
+stooped, and in vain! I am defeated; I must remain passive; like 
+a whipped child I am driven away. Talk not of love to me. I am 
+without illusion." She fell to weeping, and to him she was 
+lovelier in her tears than ever in her smiles. For would she 
+have shown this weakness to any but himself, and was it not a 
+sign that he was not wholly indifferent to her?
+
+"Madame, what is it?" he cried, on his knees before her. "What 
+is it? Do you wish a crown? Find me a kingdom, and I will buy it 
+for you. Be mine, and woe to those who dare to laugh! Ah, could 
+I but convince you that love is above crowns and kingdoms, the 
+only glimpse we have on earth of Paradise. There is no boundary 
+to the dreams; no horizons; a vast, beautiful wilderness, and 
+you and I together. There are no storms, no clouds. Ambition, 
+the god of schemes, finds no entrance. Ah, how I love you! Your 
+face is ever before me, waking or sleeping. All thoughts are 
+merged into one, and that is of you. Self has dropped out of my 
+existence. Forget that you are a princess; remember only that 
+you are a woman, and that I love you."
+
+Love has the key to eloquence. Madame forgot her vanished dreams;
+the bitterness in her heart subsided. That mysterious, 
+indefinable thrill, which every woman experiences when a 
+boundless love is laid at her feet, passed through her, leaving 
+her sensible to a delicious languor. This man was strong in 
+himself, yet weak before her, and from his weakness she gained a 
+visible strength. Convention was nothing to him; that she was of 
+royal blood was still less. What other man would have dared her 
+wrath as he had done?
+
+Nobility, she thought, was based on the observance of certain 
+laws. Around the central star were lesser stars, from which the 
+central star drew its radiance. Whenever one of these stars 
+deviates from its orbit, the glory of the central star is 
+diminished. To accept the love of the Englishman would be a blow 
+to the pride of Austria. She smiled.
+
+"Monsieur," she said, in a hesitating voice, "Monsieur, I am 
+indeed a woman. You ask me if I can forget that I offered you my 
+lips? No. Nor do I wish to. Why did I permit you to kiss me? I 
+do not know. I could not analyze the impulse if I tried. 
+Monsieur, I am a woman who demands much from those who serve her.
+I am capricious; my moods vary; I am unfamiliar with sentiment; 
+I hate oftener than I love. Listen. There is a canker in my 
+heart, made there by vanity. When it heals--well--mayhap you 
+will find the woman you desire. Mind you, I make no promises. 
+Follow me, if you will, but have patience; love me if you must, 
+but in silence;" and with a gesture which was not without a 
+certain fondness, she laid her hand upon his head.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+
+INTO STILL WATERS AND SILENCE
+
+Into the princess's own chamber they carried Maurice, and laid 
+him on the white bed. Thus would she have it. No young man had 
+ever before entered that sacred chapel of her maiden dreams. 
+Beside the bed was a small prie-dieu; and she knelt upon the 
+cushion and rested her brow against the crucifix. The archbishop 
+covered his eyes, and the state physician bent his head. 
+Chastity and innocence at the feet of God; yet, not even these 
+can hold back the fleeting breath of life. She asked God to 
+forgive her the bitterness in her heart; she prayed for strength 
+to repel the weakness in her limbs. Presently she rose, an 
+angelic sweetness on her face. She looked down at Maurice; there 
+was no sign of life, save in the fitful drawing in of the nether 
+lip. She dampened a cloth and wiped the sweat of agony from the 
+marble brow.
+
+"O, if only he might live!" she cried. "And he will not?"
+
+"No, your Highness," said the physician. "He has perhaps an hour.
+Extraordinary vitality alone is the cause of his living so long.
+He has lost nearly all the blood in his body. It was a 
+frightful wound. He is dying, but he may return to consciousness 
+before the end.
+
+The archbishop, with somber eyes, contemplated the pale, 
+handsome face, which lay motionless against the pillow. His 
+thoughts flew back to his own youth, to the long years which had 
+filled the gap between. Friends had come and gone, loved ones 
+vanished; and still he stood, like an oak in the heart of a 
+devastated forest, alone. Why had he been spared, and to what 
+end? Ah, how old he was, how very old! To live beyond the 
+allotted time, was not that a punishment for some transgression? 
+His eyes shone through a mist of tears.
+
+The princess, too, contemplated the face of the dying man. How 
+many times had that face accompanied her in her dreams! How 
+familiar she was with every line of it, the lips, that turned 
+inward when they smiled; the certain lock of hair that fell upon 
+the forehead! And yet, she had seen the face in reality less 
+than half a dozen times. Why had it entered so persistently into 
+her dreams? Why had the flush risen to her cheeks at the 
+thought? At another time she would have refused to listen to the 
+voice which answered; but now, as the object of her thoughts lay 
+dying on her pillow, her mind would not play truant to her heart.
+Sometimes the approach of love is so imperceptible that it does 
+not provoke analysis. We wake suddenly to find it in our hearts, 
+so strong and splendid that we submit without question. . . . 
+All, all her dreams had vanished, the latest and the fairest. 
+Across the azure of her youth had come and gone a vague, 
+beautiful flash of love. The door of earthly paradise had opened 
+and closed. That delicate string which vibrates with the joy of 
+living seemed parted; her heart was broken, and her young breast 
+a tomb. With straining eyes she continued to gaze. The invisible 
+arms of her love clasped Maurice to her heart and held him there.
+Only that day he had stood before her, a delight to the eye; 
+and she had given him her hand to kiss. How bravely he had gone 
+forth from the city! She had followed him with her ardent gaze 
+until he was no longer to be seen. And now he lay dying. . . . 
+for her.
+
+"Monsieur," she said, turning to the physician, "I have 
+something to say to Monseigneur."
+
+The physician bowed and passed into the boudoir, the door of 
+which he closed.
+
+"Father," she said to the prelate, "I have no secrets from you." 
+She pointed to Maurice. "I love him. I know not why. He comes 
+from a foreign land; his language nor his people are mine, and 
+yet the thought of him has filled my soul. I have talked to him 
+but four different times; and yet I love him. Why? I can not 
+tell. The mind has no power to rule the impulse of love. Were he 
+to live, perhaps my love would be a sin. Is it not strange, 
+father, that I love him? I have lost parental love; I am losing 
+a love a woman holds priceless above all others. He is dying 
+because of me. He loves me. I read it in his eyes just before he 
+fell. Perhaps it is better for him and for me that he should die,
+for if he lived I could not live without him. Father, do I sin?"
+
+"No, my child," and the prelate closed his eyes.
+
+"I have been so lonely," she said, "so alone. I craved the love 
+of the young. He was so different from any man I had met before. 
+His bright, handsome face seemed constantly with me."
+
+At this moment Maurice's breast rose and fell in a long sigh. 
+Presently the lids of his eyes rolled upward. Consciousness had 
+returned. His wandering gaze first encountered the sad, austere 
+visage of the prelate.
+
+"Monseigneur?" he said, faintly.
+
+"Do you wish absolution, my son?"
+
+"I am dying. . . . ?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I am dying. . . . God has my account and he will judge it. I am 
+not a Catholic, Monseigneur." He turned his head. "Your 
+Highness?" He roved about the room with his eyes and discerned 
+the feminine touch in all the appointments.
+
+"Where am I?"
+
+"You are in my room, Monsieur," she said. Her voice broke, but 
+she met his eyes with a brave smile. "Is there anything we can 
+do for you?"
+
+"Nothing. I am alone. To die. . . . Well, one time or another. 
+And yet, it is a beautiful world, when we but learn it, full of 
+color and life and love. I am young; I do not wish to die. And 
+now . . . even in the midst . . . to go . . . where? Monseigneur,
+I am dying; to me princes and kings signify nothing. That is 
+not to say that they ever did. In the presence of death we are 
+all equal. Living, I might not speak; dying . . . since I have 
+but a little while to stay . . . I may speak?"
+
+"Yes, my son, speak. Her Highness will listen."
+
+"It is to her Highness that I wish to speak."
+
+Her lips quivered and she made no secret of her tears. "What is 
+it you wish to say to me, Monsieur Carewe?" She smoothed his 
+forehead, and the touch of her hand made him forget his pain.
+
+"Ah, I know not how to begin," he said. "Forgive me if I offend 
+your ears. . . . I have been foolish even to dream of it, but I 
+could not help it. . . . When first I saw you in the garden . . 
+the old dog was beside you. . . . Even then it came to me that 
+my future was linked to the thought of you. I did not know you 
+were so far beyond. . . . I was very cold, but I dared not let 
+you know it, for fear you would lead me at once to the gate. 
+That night wherever I looked I saw you. I strove to think of 
+some way to serve you, but I could not. I was so obscure. I 
+never thought that you would remember me again; but you did. . . 
+That afternoon in the carriage . . . I wanted to tell you then.
+That rose you dropped . . . it is still on my heart. I loved 
+you, and to this end. And I am glad to die, for in this short 
+fortnight I have lived. . . . My mother used to call me Maurice
+. . . to hear a woman repeat it again before I go."
+
+"Maurice." She took his hand timidly in hers, and looked at the 
+archbishop.
+
+"Speak to him from your heart, my child," said the prelate. "It 
+will comfort you both."
+
+Suddenly she drooped and the tears fell upon the hand in hers. 
+"Maurice," she whispered, "you have not loved in vain." She 
+could utter no more; but she raised her head and looked into his 
+eyes, and he saw the glory of the world in hers.
+
+"Into still waters and silence," he said softly. "No more pain, 
+nor joy, nor love; silence. . . . You love me! . . . Alexia; how 
+often have I repeated that name to myself. . . . I have not 
+strength to lift your hand to my lips."
+
+She kissed him on the lips. She felt as if she, too, were dying.
+
+"God guard your Highness," he said. "It is dark. . . . I do not 
+see you. . . . "
+
+He tried to raise himself, but he could not. He sank back, 
+settled deeply into the pillow, and smiled. After that he lay 
+very still.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Etext The Puppet Crown, by Harold MacGrath
+
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+The Project Gutenberg Etext of Prince Hagen, by Upton Sinclair
+#7 in our series by Upton Sinclair
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+Title: Prince Hagen
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+Author: Upton Sinclair
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+This etext was produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading team.
+
+
+
+
+
+PRINCE HAGEN
+
+UPTON SINCLAIR
+
+
+
+
+CHARACTERS (In order of appearance)
+Gerald Isman : a poet.
+Mimi: a Nibelung.
+Alberich: King of the Nibelungs.
+Prince Hagen: his grandson.
+Mrs. Isman.
+Hicks: a butler.
+Mrs. Bagley-Willis: mistress of Society.
+John Isman: a railroad magnate.
+Estelle Isman : his daughter.
+Plimpton: the coal baron.
+Rutherford: lord of steel.
+De Wiggleston Riggs: cotillon leader.
+Lord Alderdyce: seeing America.
+Calkins: Prince Hagen's secretary.
+Nibelungs; members of Society.
+
+
+
+
+                               ACT I
+SCENE I. Gerald Isman's tent in Quebec.
+
+SCENE 2. The Hall of State in Nibelheim.
+
+
+                              ACT II
+Library in the Isman home on Fifth Avenue: two years later.
+
+
+                              ACT III
+Conservatory of Prince Hagen's palace on Fifth Avenue. The wind-up
+of the opening ball: four months later.
+
+
+                              ACT IV
+Living room in the Isman camp in Quebec: three months later.
+
+
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+SCENE I
+
+
+[Shows a primeval forest, with great trees, thickets in background,
+and moss and ferns underfoot. A set in the foreground. To the left is
+a tent, about ten feet square, with a fly. The front and sides are
+rolled up, showing a rubber blanket spread, with bedding upon it; a
+rough stand, with books and some canned goods, a rifle, a fishing-rod,
+etc. Toward centre is a trench with the remains of a fire smoldering
+in it, and a frying pan and some soiled dishes beside it. There is a
+log, used as a seat, and near it are several books, a bound volume of
+music lying open, and a violin case with violin. To the right is a
+rocky wall, with a cleft suggesting a grotto.]
+
+[At rise: GERALD pottering about his fire, which is burning badly,
+mainly because he is giving most of his attention to a bound volume of
+music which he has open. He is a young man of twenty-two, with wavy
+auburn hair; wears old corduroy trousers and a grey flannel shirt,
+open at the throat. He stirs the fire, then takes violin and plays the
+Nibelung theme with gusto.]
+
+GERALD. A plague on that fire! I think I'll make my supper on prunes
+and crackers to-night!
+
+[Plays again.]
+
+MIMI. [Enters left, disguised as a pack-peddler; a little wizened up
+man, with long, unkempt grey hair and beard, and a heavy bundle on his
+back.] Good evening, sir!
+
+GERALD. [Starts.] Hello!
+
+MIMI. Good evening!
+
+GERALD. Why . . . who are you?
+
+MIMI. Can you tell me how I find the road, sir?
+
+GERALD. Where do you want to go?
+
+MIMI. To the railroad.
+
+GERALD. Oh, I see! You got lost?
+
+MIMI. Yes, sir.
+
+GERALD. [Points.] You should have turned to the right down where the
+roads cross.
+
+MIMI. Oh. That's it!
+
+[Puts down burden and sighs.]
+
+GERALD. Are you expecting to get to the railroad to-night?
+
+MIMI. Yes, sir.
+
+GERALD. Humph! You'll find it hard going. Better rest. [Looks him
+over, curiously.] What are you--a peddler?
+
+MIMI. I sell things. Nice things, sir. You buy?
+
+[Starts to open pack.]
+
+GERALD. No. I don't want anything.
+
+MIMI. [Gazing about.] You live here all alone?
+
+GERALD. Yes . . . all alone.
+
+MIMI. [Looking of left.] Who lives in the big house?
+
+GERALD. That's my father's camp.
+
+MIMI. Humph! Nobody in there?
+
+GERALD. The family hasn't come up yet.
+
+MIMI. Why don't you live there?
+
+GERALD. I'm camping out--I prefer the tent.
+
+MIMI. Humph! Who's your father?
+
+GERALD. John Isman's his name.
+
+MIMI. Rich man, hey?
+
+GERALD. Why . . . yes. Fairly so.
+
+MIMI. I see people here last year.
+
+GERALD. Oh! You've been here before?
+
+MIMI. Yes. I been here. I see young lady. Very beautiful!
+
+GERALD. That's my sister, I guess.
+
+MIMI. Your sister. What you call her?
+
+GERALD. Her name's Estelle.
+
+MIMI. Estelle! And what's your name?
+
+GERALD. I'm Gerald Isman.
+
+MIMI. Humph! [Looking about, sees violin.] You play music, hey?
+
+GERALD. Yes.
+
+MIMI. You play so very bad?
+
+GERALD. [Laughs.] Why . . . what makes you think that?
+
+MIMI. You come 'way off by yourself!
+
+GERALD. Oh! I see! No . . . I like to be alone.
+
+MIMI. I hear you playing . . . nice tune.
+
+GERALD. Yes. You like music?
+
+MIMI. Sometimes. You play little quick tune . . . so?
+
+[Hums.]
+
+GERALD. [Plays Nibelung theme.] This?
+
+MIMI. [Eagerly.] Yes. Where you learn that?
+
+GERALD. That's the Nibelung music.
+
+MIMI. Nibelung music! Where you hear it?
+
+GERALD. Why . . . it's in an opera.
+
+MIMI. An opera?
+
+GERALD. It's by a composer named Wagner.
+
+MIMI. Where he hear it?
+
+GERALD. [Laughs.] Why . . . I guess he made it up.
+
+MIMI. What's it about? Hey?
+
+GERALD. It's about the Nibelungs.
+
+MIMI. Nibelungs?
+
+GERALD. Queer little people who live down inside the earth, and spend
+all their time digging for gold.
+
+MIMI. Ha! You believe in such people?
+
+GERALD. [Amused.] Why . . . I don't know . . .
+
+MIMI. You ever see them?
+
+GERALD. No . . . but the poets tell us they exist.
+
+MIMI. The poets, hey? What they tell you about them?
+
+GERALD. Well, they have great rocky caverns, down in the depths of the
+earth. And they have treasures of gold . . . whole caves of it. And
+they're very cunning smiths . . . they make all sorts of beautiful
+golden vessels and trinkets.
+
+MIMI. Trinkets, hey! [Reaches into bundle.] Like this, hey?
+
+[Holds up a gold cup.]
+
+GERALD. [Surprised.] Oh!
+
+MIMI. Or this, hey?
+
+GERALD. Why . . . where did you get such things?
+
+MIMI. Ha, ha! You don't know what I got!
+
+GERALD. Let me see them.
+
+MIMI. You think the Nibelungs can beat that, hey? [Reaches into bag.]
+Maybe I sell you this cap! [Takes out a little cap of woven gold
+chains.] A magic cap, hey?
+
+GERALD. [Astounded.] Why . . . what is it?
+
+MIMI. [Puts it on his head.] You wear it . . . so. And you play
+Nibelung music, and you vanish from sight . . . nobody finds you. Or I
+sell you the magic ring . . . you wear that . . . [Hands it to
+GERALD.] Put it on your finger . . . so. Now you play, and the
+Nibelungs come . . . they dance about in the woods . . . they bring
+you gold treasures . . . ha, ha, ha! [Amused at GERALD's perplexity.]
+What you think they look like, hey? . . . those Nibelungs!
+
+GERALD. Why . . . I don't know . . .
+
+MIMI. What do your poets tell you? ha?
+
+GERALD. Why . . . they're little men . . . with long hair and funny
+clothes . . . and humpbacked.
+
+MIMI. Look like me, hey?
+
+GERALD. [Embarrassed.] Why . . . yes . . . in a way.
+
+MIMI. What are their names?
+
+GERALD. Their names?
+
+MIMI. Yes . . . what ones do you know about?
+
+GERALD. Well, there was Alberich, the king.
+
+MIMI. Alberich!
+
+GERALD. He was the one who found the Rheingold. And then there was
+Hagen, his son.
+
+MIMI. Hagen!
+
+GERALD. He killed the hero, Siegfried.
+
+MIMI. Yes, yes!
+
+GERALD. And then there was Mimi.
+
+MIMI. Ah! Mimi!
+
+GERALD. He was a very famous smith.
+
+MIMI. [Eagerly.] You know all about them! Somebody has been there!
+
+GERALD. What do you mean?
+
+MIMI. Would you like to see those Nibelungs?
+
+GERALD. [Laughing.] Why . . . I wouldn't mind.
+
+MIMI. You would like to see them dancing in the moonlight, and hear
+the clatter of their trinkets and shields? You would like to meet old
+King Alberich, and Mimi the smith? You would like to see that cavern
+yawn open . . . [points to right] and fire and steam break forth, and
+all the Nibelungs come running out? Would you like that? ha?
+
+GERALD. Indeed I would!
+
+MIMI. You wouldn't be afraid?
+
+GERALD. No, I don't think so.
+
+MIMI. But are you sure?
+
+GERALD. Yes . . . sure!
+
+MIMI. All right! You wear my magic ring! You wait till night comes!
+Then you play! [Puts away trinkets.] I must go now.
+
+GERALD. [Perplexed.] What do you want for your ring?
+
+MIMI. It is not for sale. I give it.
+
+GERALD. What!
+
+MIMI. Money could not buy it. [Takes up pack.] I came to you because
+you play that music.
+
+GERALD. But I can't . . . it . . .
+
+MIMI. It is yours . . . you are a poet! [Starts left.] Is this the
+way?
+
+GERALD. Yes. But I don't like to . . .
+
+MIMI. Keep it! You will see! Good-bye!
+
+GERALD. But wait!
+
+MIMI. It is late. I must go. Good-night.
+
+[Exit left.]
+
+GERALD. Good-night. [Stands staring.] Well, I'll be switched! If that
+wasn't a queer old customer! [Looks at ring.] It feels like real gold!
+[Peers after MIMI.] What in the world did he mean, anyhow? The magic
+ring! I hope he doesn't get lost in those woods to-night. [Turns to
+fire.] Confound that fire! It's out for good now! Let it go. [Sits,
+and takes music score.] Nibelungs! They are realer than anybody
+guesses. People who spend their lives in digging for gold, and know
+and care about nothing else. How many of them I've met at mother's
+dinner parties! Well, I must get to my work now. [Makes a few notes;
+then looks up and stretches.] Ah, me! I don't know what makes me so
+lazy this evening. This strange heaviness! There seems to be a spell
+on me. [Gazes about.] How beautiful these woods are at sunset! If I
+were a Nibelung, I'd come here for certain! [Settles himself,
+reclining; shadows begin to fall; music from orchestra.] I'm good for
+nothing but dreaming . . . I wish Estelle were here to sing to me! How
+magical the twilight is! Estelle! Estelle!
+
+[He lies motionless; music dies away, and there is a long silence. The
+forest is dark, with gleams of moonlight. Suddenly there is a faint
+note of music . . . the Nibelung theme. After a silence it is
+repeated; then again. Several instruments take it up. It swells
+louder. Vague forms are seen flitting here and there. Shadows move.]
+
+GERALD. [Starting up suddenly.] What's that? [Silence; then the note
+is heard again, very faint. He starts. It is heard again, and he
+springs to his feet.] What's that? [Again and again. He runs to his
+violin, picks it up, and stares at it. Still the notes are heard, and
+he puts down the violin, and runs down stage, listening.] Why, what
+can it mean? [As the music grows louder his perplexity and alarm
+increase. Suddenly he sees a figure stealing through the shadows, and
+he springs back, aghast.] Why, it's a Nibelung! [Another figure
+passes.] Oh! I must be dreaming! [Several more appear.] Nibelungs!
+Why, it's absurd! Wake up, man! You're going crazy! [Music swells
+louder; figures appear, carrying gold shields, chains, etc., with
+clatter.] My God!
+
+[He stands with hands clasped to his forehead, while the uproar swells
+louder and louder, and the forms become more numerous. He rushes down
+stage, and the Nibelungs surround him, dancing about him in wild
+career, laughing, screaming, jeering. They begin to pinch his legs
+behind his back, and he leaps here and there, crying out. Gradually
+they drive him toward the grotto, which opens before them, revealing a
+black chasm, emitting clouds of steam. They rush in and are enveloped
+in the mist. Sounds of falling and crashing are heard. The steam
+spreads, gradually veiling the front of the stage.]
+
+[Nets rise with the steam, giving the effect of a descent. During this
+change the orchestra plays the music between Scenes II and III in Das
+Rheingold.]
+
+
+
+
+SCENE II
+
+
+[Nibelheim: a vast rocky cavern. Right centre is a large gold throne,
+and to the right of that an entrance through a great tunnel. Entrances
+from the sides also. At the left is a large golden vase upon a stand,
+and near it lie piles of golden utensils, shields, etc. Left centre is
+a heavy iron door, opening into a vault. Throughout this scene there
+is a suggestion of music, rising into full orchestra at significant
+moments. The voices of the Nibelungs are accompanied by stopped
+trumpets and other weird sounds.]
+
+[At rise: The stage is dark. A faint light spreads. A company of
+Nibelungs crosses from right to left, carrying trinkets and treasures.
+Clatter of shields, crack of whips, music, etc. Another company of
+Nibelungs runs in left.]
+
+FIRST NIB. [Entering.] The earth-man has come!
+
+SECOND NIB. Where is he?
+
+FIRST NIB. He is with Mimi!
+
+SECOND NIB. What is he like?
+
+FIRST NIB. He is big! [With a gesture of fright.] Terrible!
+
+THIRD NIB. Ah!
+
+SECOND NIB. And the king? Does he know?
+
+FIRST NIB. He has been told.
+
+THIRD NIB. Where is the king?
+
+FIRST NIB. He comes! He comes!
+
+[The orchestra plays the Fasolt and Fafnir music, Rheingold, Scene II.
+[Enter a company of Nibelungs, armed with whips, and marching with a
+stately tread. They post themselves about the apartment. Enter another
+company supporting KING ALBERICH. He is grey-haired and very feeble,
+but ferocious-looking, and somewhat taller than the others. His robe
+is lined with ermine, and he carries a gold Nibelung whip--a short
+handle of gold, with leather thongs. He seats himself upon the throne,
+and all make obeisance. A solemn pause.]
+
+ALBERICH. The earth-man has come?
+
+FIRST NIB. Yes, your majesty!
+
+ALB. Where is Mimi?
+
+ALL. Mimi! Mimi!
+
+[The call is repeated off.]
+
+MIMI. [Enters left.] Your majesty.
+
+ALB. Where is the earth-man?
+
+MIMI. He is safe, your majesty.
+
+ALB. Did he resist?
+
+MIMI. I have brought him, your majesty.
+
+ALB. And Prince Hagen? Has he come?
+
+MIMI. He is without, your majesty.
+
+ALB. Let him be brought in.
+
+[All cry out in terror.]
+
+MIMI. Your majesty. He is wild! He fights with everyone! He . . .
+
+ALB. Let him be brought in.
+
+ALL. Prince Hagen! Prince Hagen!
+
+MIMI. [Calling.] Prince Hagen !
+
+[Some run out. The call is heard off All stand waiting in tense
+expectation. The music plays the Hagen motives, with suggestions of
+the Siegfried funeral march. Voices are heard in the distance, and at
+the climax of the music PRINCE HAGEN and his keepers enter. He is
+small for a man, but larger than any of the Nibelungs; a grim,
+sinister figure, with black hair, and a glowering look. His hands are
+chained in front of him, and eight Nibelungs march as a guard. He has
+bare arms and limbs, and a rough black bearskin flung over his
+shoulders. He enters right, and stands glaring from one to another.]
+
+ALB. Good evening, Hagen.
+
+HAGEN. [After a pause.] Well?
+
+ALB. [Hesitating.] Hagen, you are still angry and rebellious?
+
+HAGEN. I am!
+
+ALB. [Pleading.] Hagen, you are my grandson. You are my sole heir . .
+. the only representative of my line. You are all that I have in the
+world!
+
+HAGEN. Well?
+
+ALB. You place me in such a trying position! Have you no shame . . .
+no conscience? Why, some day you will be king . . . and one cannot
+keep a king in chains!
+
+HAGEN. I do not want to be in chains!
+
+ALB. But, Hagen, your conduct is such . . . what can I do? You have
+robbed . . . you have threatened murder! And you . . . my grandson and
+my heir . . .
+
+HAGEN. Have you sent for me to preach at me again?
+
+ALB. Hagen, this stranger . . . he has come to visit us from the world
+above. These earth-men know more than we . . . they have greater
+powers . . .
+
+[He hesitates.]
+
+HAGEN. What is all that to me?
+
+ALB. You know that you yourself are three-quarters an earth-man . . .
+
+HAGEN. I know it. [With a passionate gesture.] But I am in chains!
+
+ALB. There may be a way of your having another chance. Perhaps this
+stranger will teach you. If you will promise to obey him, he will stay
+with you . . . he will be your tutor, and show you the ways of the
+earth- men.
+
+HAGEN. No!
+
+ALB. What?
+
+HAGEN. I will not have it!
+
+ALB. Hagen!
+
+HAGEN. I will not have it, I say! Why did you not consult me?
+
+ALB. But what is your objection . . .
+
+HAGEN. I will not obey an earth-man! I will not obey anyone!
+
+ALB. But he will teach you . . .
+
+HAGEN. I do not want to be taught. I want to be let alone! Take off
+these chains!
+
+ALB. [Half rising.] Hagen! I insist . . .
+
+HAGEN. Take them off, I say! You cannot conquer me . . . you cannot
+trick me!
+
+ALB. [Angrily.] Take him away!
+
+[The Nibelungs seize hold of him to hustle him off.]
+
+HAGEN. I will not obey him! Mark what I say . . . I will kill him.
+Yes! I will kill him!
+
+[He is dragged off protesting.]
+
+ALB. [Sits, his head bowed with grief, until the uproar dies away;
+then, looking up.] Mimi!
+
+MIMI. Yes, your majesty.
+
+ALB. Let the earth-man be brought.
+
+MIMI. Yes, your majesty!
+
+ALL. The earth-man! The earth-man!
+
+[The call is heard as before. GERALD is brought on; the orchestra
+plays a beautiful melody, violins and horns. MIMI moves left to meet
+him.]
+
+GERALD. [Enters left with attendants; hesitating, gazing about in
+wonder. He sees MIMI, and stops; a pause.] The pack peddler!
+
+MIMI. The pack peddler!
+
+GER. And these are Nibelungs?
+
+MIMI. You call us that.
+
+GER. [Laughing nervously.] You . . . er . . . it's a little
+disconcerting, you know. I had no idea you existed. May I ask your
+name?
+
+MIMI. I am Mimi.
+
+GER. Mimi! Mimi, the smith? And may I ask . . . are you real, or is
+this a dream?
+
+MIMI. Is not life a dream?
+
+GER. Yes . . . but . . .
+
+MIMI. It is a story. You have to pretend that it is true.
+
+GER. I see!
+
+MIMI. You pretend that it is true . . . and then you see what happens!
+It is very interesting!
+
+GER. Yes . . . I have no doubt. [Peers at him.] And just to help me
+straighten things out . . . would you mind telling me . . . are you
+old or young?
+
+MIMI. I am young.
+
+GER. How young?
+
+MIMI. Nine hundred years young.
+
+GER. Oh! And why did you come for me?
+
+MIMI. The king commanded it.
+
+GER. The king? And who may this king be?
+
+MIMI. King Alberich.
+
+GER. Alberich. [Stares at the king.] And is this he?
+
+MIMI. It is he.
+
+GER. And may I speak to him?
+
+MIMI. You may.
+
+ALB. Let the earth-man advance. Hail!
+
+GER. Good evening, Alberich.
+
+MIMI. [At his elbow.] Your majesty!
+
+GER. Good evening, your majesty.
+
+ALB. [After along gaze.] You play our music. Where did you learn it?
+
+GER. Why . . . it's in Wagner's operas. He composed it.
+
+ALB. Humph . . . composed it!
+
+GER. [Aghast.] You mean he came and copied it!
+
+ALB. Of course!
+
+GER. Why . . . why . . . we all thought it was original!
+
+ALB. Original! It is indeed wonderful originality! To listen in the
+Rhine-depths to the song of the maidens, to dwell in the forest and
+steal its murmurs, to catch the crackling of the fire and the flowing
+of the water, the galloping of the wind and the death march of the
+thunder . . . and then write it all down for your own! To take our
+story and tell it just as it happened . . . to take the very words
+from our lips, and sign your name to them! Originality!
+
+GER. But, your majesty, one thing at least. Even his enemies granted
+him that! He invented the invisible orchestra!
+
+ALB. [Laughing.] Have you seen any orchestra here?
+
+[Siegfried motive sounds.]
+
+GER. I hadn't realized it! Do you mean that everything here happens to
+music?
+
+ALB. If you only had the ears to hear, you would know that the whole
+world happens to music.
+
+GER. [Stands entranced.] Listen! Listen!
+
+ALB. It is very monotonous, when one is digging out the gold. It keeps
+up such a wheezing, and pounding.
+
+[Stopped trumpets from orchestra.]
+
+GER. Ah, don't speak of such things! [Gazes about; sees cup.] What is
+this?
+
+ALB. That is the coronation cup.
+
+GER. The coronation cup?
+
+ALB. One of the greatest of our treasures. It is worth over four
+hundred thousand dollars. It is the work of the elder Mimi, a most
+wonderful smith.
+
+GER. [Advancing.] May I look at it?
+
+ALB. You will observe the design of the Rhine maidens.
+
+GER. I can't see it here. It's too dark. Let me have a candle.
+
+MIMI. A candle?
+
+ALL. A candle!
+
+ALB. My dear sir! Candles are so expensive! And why do you want to see
+it? We never look at our art treasures.
+
+GER. Never look at them!
+
+ALB. No. We know what they are worth, and everyone else knows; and
+what difference does it make how they look?
+
+GER. Oh, I see!
+
+ALB. Perhaps you would like to see our vaults of gold? [Great
+excitement among the Nibelungs. The music makes a furious uproar.
+ALBERICH gives a great key to MIMI, who opens the iron doors.]
+Approach, sir.
+
+MIMI. Hear the echoes. [Shouts.]
+
+GER. It must be a vast place!
+
+ALB. This particular cavern runs for seventeen miles under the earth.
+
+GER. What! And you mean it is all full of gold?
+
+ALB. From floor to roof with solid masses of it.
+
+GER. Incredible! Is it all of the Nibelung treasure?
+
+ALB. All? Mercy, no! This is simply my own, and I am by no means a
+rich man. The extent of some of our modern fortunes would simply
+exceed your belief. We live in an age of enormous productivity. [After
+a pause.] Will you see more of the vault?
+
+GER. No, I thank you. [They close it.] It must be getting late; and,
+by the way, your majesty, you know that no one has told me yet why you
+had me brought here.
+
+ALB. Ah, yes, sure enough. We have business to talk about. Let us get
+to it! [To MIMI.] Let the hall be cleared. [MIMI drives out the
+Nibelungs and retires.] Sit on this rock here beside me.
+[Confidentially.] Now we can talk things over. I trust you are willing
+to listen to me.
+
+GER. Most certainly. I am very much interested.
+
+ALB. Thank you. You know, my dear sir, that I had a son, Hagen, who
+was the slayer of the great hero, Siegfried?
+
+GER. Yes, your majesty.
+
+ALB. A most lamentable affair. You did not know, I presume, that
+Hagen, too, had a son, by one of the daughters of earth?
+
+GER. No. He is not mentioned in history.
+
+ALB. That son, Prince Hagen, is now living; and, in the course of
+events, he will fall heir to the throne I occupy.
+
+GER. I see.
+
+ALB. The boy is seven or eight hundred years old, which, in your
+measure, would make him about eighteen. Now, I speak frankly. The boy
+is wild and unruly. He needs guidance and occupation. And I have sent
+for you because I understand that you earth-people think more and see
+farther than we do.
+
+GER. Yes?
+
+ALB. I wish to ask you to help me . . . to use your strength of mind
+and body to direct this boy.
+
+GER. But what can I do?
+
+ALB. I wish you to stay here and be Prince Hagen's tutor.
+
+GER. What?
+
+ALB. [Anxiously.] If you will do it, sir, you will carry hence a
+treasure such as the world has never seen before. And it is a noble
+work . . . a great work, sir. He is the grandson of a king! Tell me .
+. . will you help me?
+
+[Gazes imploringly.]
+
+GER. Let me think. [A pause.] Your majesty, I have things of
+importance to do, and I have no time to stay here . . .
+
+ALB. But think of the treasures!
+
+GER. My father is a rich man, and I have no need of treasures. And
+besides, I am a poet. I have work of my own...
+
+ALB. Oh! don't refuse me, sir!
+
+GER. Listen! There is, perhaps, something else we can do. How would it
+do to take Prince Hagen up to the world?
+
+ALB. [Starting.] Oh!
+
+GER. This world is a small one. There he might have a wide field for
+his energies. He might be sent to a good school, and taught the ideals
+of our Christian civilization.
+
+ALB. [Pondering anxiously.] You mean that you yourself would see to it
+that proper care was given to him?
+
+GER. If I took him with me it would mean that I was interested in his
+future.
+
+ALB. It is a startling proposition. What opportunity can you offer
+him?
+
+GER. I am only a student myself. But my father is a man of importance
+in the world.
+
+ALB. What does he do?
+
+GER. He is John Isman. They call him the railroad king.
+
+ALB. You have kings in your world, also!
+
+GER. [Smiling.] After a fashion . . . yes.
+
+ALB. I had not thought of this. I hardly know what to reply. [He
+starts.] What is that?
+
+[An uproar is heard of left. Shouts and cries; music rises to
+deafening climax. Nibelungs flee on in terror.]
+
+HAGEN. [Rushes on, struggling wildly, and dragging several Nibelungs.]
+Let me go, I say! Take off these chains!
+
+ALB. [Rising in seat.] Hagen!
+
+HAGEN. I will not stand it, I tell you!
+
+ALB. Hagen! Listen to me!
+
+HAGEN. No!
+
+ALB. I have something new to tell you. The earth-man has suggested
+taking you up with him to the world.
+
+HAGEN. [A sudden wild expression flashes across his features.] No! [He
+gazes from one to the other, half beside himself.] You can't mean it!
+
+ALB. It is true, Hagen.
+
+HAGEN. What . . . why . . .
+
+ALB. You would be sent to school and taught the ways of the earth-men.
+Do you think that you would like to go?
+
+HAGEN. [Wildly.] By the gods! I would!
+
+ALB. [Nervously.] You will promise to obey . . .
+
+HAGEN. I'll promise anything! I'll do anything!
+
+ALB. Hagen, this is a very grave decision for me. It is such an
+unusual step! You would have to submit yourself to this gentleman, who
+is kind enough to take charge of you . . .
+
+HAGEN. I Will! I will! Quick! [Holding out his chains.] Take them off!
+
+ALB. [Doubtfully.] We can trust you?
+
+HAGEN. You can trust me! You'll have no trouble. Take them off!
+
+ALB. Off with them!
+
+MIMI. [Advances and proceeds to work at chains with a file.] Yes, your
+majesty.
+
+HAGEN. [TO GERALD.] Tell me! What am I to do?
+
+GER. You are to have an education . . .
+
+HAGEN. Yes? What's it like? Tell me more about the earth-people.
+
+GER. It's too much to try to tell. You will be there soon.
+
+HAGEN. Ah! Be quick there! [Tears one hand free and waves it.] By the
+gods!
+
+ALB. [To GERALD.] You had best spend the night with us and consult
+with me . . .
+
+HAGEN. No, no! No delay! What's there to consult about?
+
+ALB. We have so much to settle . . . your clothes . . . your money . . .
+
+HAGEN. Give me some gold . . . that will be all. Let us be off!
+
+GER. I will attend to everything. There is no need of delay.
+
+HAGEN. Come on! [Tears other hand free.] Aha! [Roams about the stage,
+clenching his hands and gesticulating, while the music rises to a
+tremendous climax.] Free! Free forever! Aha ! Aha ! [Turning to
+GERALD.] Let us be off.
+
+GER. All right. [To ALBERICH.] Good-bye, your majesty.
+
+ALB. [Anxiously.] Good-bye.
+
+HAGEN. Come on!
+
+ALB. [As Nibelungs gather about, waving farewell.] Take care of
+yourself! Come back to me!
+
+HAGEN. Free! Free! Ha, ha, ha!
+
+MIMI. [With Nibelungs.] Good-bye!
+
+ALB. Good-bye!
+
+GER. Good-bye!
+
+HAGEN. Free!
+
+[Exit, with GERALD, amid chorus of farewells, and wild uproar of
+music.]
+
+[CURTAIN]
+
+
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+[Scene shows the library in a Fifth Avenue mansion; spacious and
+magnificent. There are folding doors right centre. There is a centre
+table with a reading lamp and books, and soft leather chairs. The
+walls are covered with bookcases. An entrance right to drawing-room.
+Also an entrance left.]
+
+[At rise: GERALD, in evening clothes, reading in front of fire.]
+
+GER. [Stretching, and sighing.] Ah, me! I wish I'd stayed at the club.
+Bother their dinner parties!
+
+MRS. IS. [Enters right, a nervous, fussy little woman, in evening
+costume.] Well, Gerald . . .
+
+GER. Yes, mother?
+
+MRS. IS. You're not coming to dinner?
+
+GER. You don't need me, mother. You've men enough, you said.
+
+MRS. IS. I like to see something of my son now and then.
+
+GER. I had my lunch very late, and I'm honestly not hungry. I'd rather
+sit and read.
+
+MRS. IS. I declare, Gerald, you run this reading business into the
+ground. You cut yourself off from everyone.
+
+GER. They don't miss me, mother.
+
+MRS. IS. To-night Renaud is going to give us some crabflake a la
+Dewey! I told Mrs. Bagley-Willis I'd show her what crabflake could be.
+She is simply green with envy of our chef.
+
+GER. I fancy that's the reason you invite her, isn't it?
+
+MRS. IS. [Laughs.] Perhaps.
+
+[Exit right. He settles himself to read.]
+
+HICKS. [Enters centre.] Mr. Gerald.
+
+GER. Well?
+
+HICKS. There was a man here to see you some time ago, Sir.
+
+GER. A man to see me? Why didn't you let me know?
+
+HICKS. I started to, Sir. But he disappeared, and I can't find him,
+Sir.
+
+GER. Disappeared? What do you mean?
+
+HICKS. He came to the side entrance, Sir; and one of the maids
+answered the bell. He was such a queer-looking chap that she was
+frightened, and called me. And then I went to ask if you were in, and
+he disappeared. I wasn't sure if he went out, Sir, or if he was still
+in the house.
+
+GER. What did he look like?
+
+HICKS. He was a little chap . . . so high . . . with a long beard and
+a humped back . . .
+
+GER. [Startled.] Mimi!
+
+HICKS. He said you knew him, sir.
+
+GER. Yes! I would have seen him.
+
+HICKS. I didn't know, sir . . .
+
+GER. Watch out for him. He'll surely come back.
+
+HICKS. Yes, Sir. I'm very sorry, sir.
+
+[Exit centre.]
+
+GER. [To himself.] Mimi! What can that mean?
+
+Mimi. [Opens door, left, and peeps in.] Ha!
+
+GER. [Starts.] Mimi!
+
+MIMI. Ssh!
+
+GER. What is it?
+
+MIMI. Where is Prince Hagen?
+
+GER. I don't know.
+
+MIMI. You don't know?
+
+GER. No.
+
+MIMI. But I must see him!
+
+GER. I've no idea where he is.
+
+MIMI. But . . . you promised to take care of him!
+
+GER. Yes . . . and I tried to. But he ran away . . .
+
+MIMI. What?
+
+GER. I've not heard of him for two years now.
+
+MIMI. [Coming closer.] Tell me about it.
+
+GER. I took him to a boarding school . . . a place where he'd be taken
+care of and taught. And he rebelled . . . he would not obey anyone . .
+. [Takes some faded telegrams from pocket book.] See! This is what I
+got.
+
+MIMI. What are they?
+
+GER. Telegrams they sent me. [Reads.] Hagen under physical restraint.
+Whole school disorganized. Come immediately and take him away.
+
+MIMI. Ha!
+
+GER. That's one. And here's the other: Hagen has escaped, threatening
+teachers with revolver. Took train for New York. What shall we do?
+[Puts away papers.] And that's all.
+
+MIMI. All?
+
+GER. That was over two years ago. And I've not heard of him since.
+
+MIMI. But he must be found!
+
+GER. I have tried. I can't.
+
+MIMI. [Vehemently.] But we cannot do without him!
+
+GER. What's the matter?
+
+MIMI. I cannot tell you. But we must have him! The people need him!
+
+GER. He has lost himself in this great city. What can I do?
+
+MIMI. He must be found. [Voices heard centre.] What is that?
+
+GER. It is some company.
+
+MIMI. [Darts left.] We must find Prince Hagen! He must come back to
+Nibelheim!
+
+[Exit left.]
+
+MRS. BAGLEY-WILLIS. [Off centre.] It was crabflake a la Dewey she
+promised me!
+
+[Enters with ISMAN.]
+
+GER. How do you do, Mrs. Bagley-Willis?
+
+MRS. B.-W. How do you do, Gerald?
+
+GER. Hello, father!
+
+ISMAN. Hello, Gerald!
+
+MRS. B.-W. Am I the first to arrive?
+
+GER. I think so.
+
+MRS. B.-W. And how is Estelle after her slumming adventure?
+
+GER. She's all right.
+
+ISMAN. That was a fine place for you to take my daughter!
+
+MRS. B.-W. It wasn't my fault. She would go. And her mother consented.
+
+GER. I wish I'd been there with you.
+
+MRS. B.-W. Indeed, I wished for someone. I was never more frightened
+in my life.
+
+ISMAN. Did you see this morning's Record?
+
+MRS. B.-W. No. What?
+
+ISMAN. About that fellow, Steve O'Hagen?
+
+MRS. B.-W. Good heavens!
+
+GER. Nothing about Estelle, I hope!
+
+ISMAN. No . . . apparently nobody noticed that incident. But about his
+political speech, and the uproar he's making on the Bowery. They say
+the streets were blocked for an hour . . . the police couldn't clear
+them.
+
+GER. He must be an extraordinary talker.
+
+MRS. B.-W. You can't imagine it. The man is a perfect demon!
+
+GER. Where does he come from?
+
+ISMAN. Apparently nobody knows. The papers say he turned up a couple
+of years ago . . . he won't talk about his past. He joined Tammany
+Hall, and he's sweeping everything before him.
+
+GER. What do you suppose will come of it?
+
+ISMAN. Oh, he'll get elected . . . what is it he's to be . . . an
+alderman? . . . and then he'll sell out, like all the rest. I was
+talking about it this afternoon, with Plimpton and Rutherford.
+
+MRS. B.-W. They're to be here to-night, I understand.
+
+ISMAN. Yes. . . so they mentioned. Ah! Here's Estelle!
+
+ESTELLE. [Enters, centre, with an armful of roses.] Ah! Mrs. Bagley-
+Willis! Good evening!
+
+MRS. B.-W. Good evening, Estelle.
+
+EST. Good evening, father. Hello, Gerald.
+
+GER. My, aren't we gorgeous to-night!
+
+EST. Just aren't we!
+
+MRS. B.-W. The adventure doesn't seem to have hurt you. Where is your
+mother?
+
+GER. She went into the drawing-room. [MRS. B.-W. and ISMAN go off,
+right; ESTELLE is about to follow.] Estelle!
+
+EST. What is it?
+
+GER. What's this I hear about your adventure last night?
+
+EST. [With sudden seriousness.] Oh, Gerald! [Comes closer.] It was a
+frightful thing! I've hardly dared to think about it!
+
+GER. Tell me.
+
+EST. Gerald, that man was talking straight at me . . . he meant every
+bit of it for me!
+
+GER. Tell me the story.
+
+EST. Why, you know, Lord Alderdyce had heard about this wild fellow,
+Steve O'Hagen, who's made such a sensation this campaign. And he's
+interested in our election and wanted to hear O'Hagen speak. He said
+he had a friend who'd arrange for us to be introduced to him; and so
+we went down there. And there was a most frightful crowd . . . it was
+an outdoor meeting, you know. We pushed our way into a saloon, where
+the mob was shouting around this O'Hagen. And then he caught sight of
+us . . . and Gerald, from the moment he saw me he never took his eyes
+off me! Never once!
+
+GER. [Smiling.] Well, Estelle . . . you've been looked at before.
+
+EST. Ah, but never like that!
+
+GER. What sort of a man is he?
+
+EST. He's small and dark and ugly . . . he wore a rough reefer and cap
+. . . but Gerald, he's no common man! There's something strange and
+terrible about him . . . there's a fire blazing in him. The detective
+who was with us introduced us to him . . . and he stood there and
+stared at me! I tried to say something or other . . . "I've been so
+interested in your speech, Mr. O'Hagen." And he laughed at me . . .
+"Yes, I've no doubt." And then suddenly . . . it was as if he leaped
+at me! He pointed his finger straight into my face, and his eyes
+fairly shone. "Wait for me! I'll be with you! I'm coming to the top!"
+
+GER. Good God!
+
+EST. Imagine it! I was simply paralyzed! "Mark what I tell you," he
+went on . . . "it'll be of interest to you some day to remember it.
+You may wait for me! I'm coming! You will not escape me!"
+
+GER. Why . . . he's mad!
+
+EST. He was like a wild beast. Everybody in the place was staring at
+us as he rushed on. "You have joy and power and freedom . . . all the
+privileges of life . . . all things that are excellent and beautiful.
+You are born to them . . . you claim them! And you come down here to
+stare at us as you might at some strange animals in a cage. You
+chatter and laugh and go your way . . . but remember what I told you .
+. . I shall be with you! You cannot keep ME down! I shall be master of
+you all!"
+
+GER. Incredible!
+
+EST. And then in a moment it was all over. He made a mocking bow to
+the party . . . "It has given me the greatest pleasure in the world to
+meet you!" And with a wild laugh he went out of the door . . . and the
+crowd in the street burst into a roar that was like a clap of thunder.
+[A pause.] Gerald, what do you think he meant?
+
+GER. My dear, you've been up against the class-war. It's rather the
+fashion now, you know.
+
+EST. Oh, but it was horrible! I can't get it out of my mind. We heard
+some of his speech afterwards . . . and it seemed as if every word of
+it was meant for me! He lashed the crowd to a perfect fury . . . I
+think they'd have set fire to the city if he'd told them to. What do
+you suppose he expects to do?
+
+GER. I can't imagine, I'm sure.
+
+EST. I should like to know more about him. He was never raised in the
+slums, I feel certain.
+
+GER. Steve O'Hagen. The name sounds Irish.
+
+EST. I don't think he's Irish. He's dark and strange- looking . . .
+almost uncanny.
+
+GER. I shall go down there and hear him the first chance I get. And
+now, I guess I'd best get out, if I want to dodge old Plimpton.
+
+EST. Yes . . . and Rutherford, too. Isn't it a bore! I think they are
+perfectly odious people.
+
+GER. Why do you suppose mother invited them?
+
+EST. Oh, it's a business affair . . . they have forced their way into
+some deal of father's, and so we have to cultivate them.
+
+GER. Plimpton, the coal baron! And Rutherford, the steel king! I
+wonder how many hundred millions of dollars we shall have to have
+before we can choose our guests for something more interesting than
+their Wall Street connections!
+
+EST. I think I hear them. [Listens.] Yes . . . the voice. [Mocking
+PLIMPTON'S manner and tone.] Good evening, Miss Isman. I guess I'll
+skip it!
+
+[Exit right.]
+
+GER. And I, too!
+
+[Exit left.]
+
+RUTHERFORD. [A stout and rather coarse-looking man, enters, right,
+with PLIMPTON.] It's certainly an outrageous state of affairs,
+Plimpton!
+
+PLIMPTON. [A thin, clerical-looking person, with square-cut beard.]
+Disgraceful! Disgraceful!
+
+RUTH. The public seems to be quite hysterical!
+
+PLIMP. We have got to a state where simply to be entrusted with great
+financial responsibility is enough to constitute a man a criminal; to
+warrant a newspaper in prying into the intimate details of his life,
+and in presenting him in hideous caricatures.
+
+RUTH. I can sympathize with you, Plimpton . . . these government
+investigations are certainly a trial. [Laughing.] I've had my turn at
+them . . . I used to lie awake nights trying to remember what my
+lawyers had told me to forget!
+
+PLIMP. Ahem! Ahem! Yes . . . a rather cynical jest! I can't say
+exactly . . .
+
+MRS. IS. [In doorway, right.] Ah, Mr. Plimpton! How do you do? And Mr.
+Rutherford?
+
+PLIMP. Good evening, Mrs. Isman.
+
+RUTH. Good evening, Mrs. Isman.
+
+MRS. IS. You managed to tear yourself away from business cares, after
+all!
+
+PLIMP. It was not easy, I assure you.
+
+MRS. IS. Won't you come in?
+
+RUTH. With pleasure.
+
+[Exit, right, with MRS. ISMAN, followed by PLIMPTON.]
+
+GER. [Enters, left.] That pious old fraud! [Sits in chair.] Well, I'm
+safe for a while!
+
+[Sprawls at ease and reads.]
+
+HICKS. [Enters, centre.] A gentleman to see you, Mr. Gerald.
+
+GER. Hey? [Takes card, looks, then gives violent start.] Prince Hagen!
+[Stands aghast, staring; whispers, half dazed.] Prince Hagen!
+
+HICKS. [After waiting.] What shall I tell him, sir?
+
+GER. What . . . what does he look like?
+
+HICKS. Why . . . he seems to be a gentleman, sir.
+
+GER. How is he dressed?
+
+HICKS. For dinner, sir.
+
+GER. [Hesitates, gazes about nervously.] Bring him here . . . quickly!
+
+HICKS. Yes, sir.
+
+GER. And shut the door afterwards.
+
+HICKS. Yes, sir.
+
+[Exit.]
+
+GER. [Stands staring.] Prince Hagen! He's come at last!
+
+[Takes the faded telegrams from his pocket; looks at them; then goes
+to door, right, and closes it.]
+
+HICKS. [Enters, centre.] Prince Hagen.
+
+HAGEN. [Enters; serene and smiling, immaculately clad.] Ah, Gerald!
+
+GER. [Gazing.] Prince Hagen!
+
+HAGEN. You are surprised to see me!
+
+GER. I confess that I am.
+
+HAGEN. Did you think I was never coming back?
+
+GER. I had given you up.
+
+HAGEN. Well, here I am . . . to report progress.
+
+GER. [After a pause.] Where have you been these two years?
+
+HAGEN. Oh, I've been seeing life . . .
+
+GER. You didn't like the boarding school?
+
+HAGEN. [With sudden vehemence.] Did you think I would like it? Did you
+think I'd come to this world to have my head stuffed with Latin
+conjugations and sawdust?
+
+GER. I had hoped that in a good Christian home . . .
+
+HAGEN. [Laughing.] No, no, Gerald! I let you talk that sort of thing
+to me in the beginning. It sounded fishy even then, but I didn't say
+anything . . . I wanted to get my bearings. But I hadn't been twenty-
+four hours in that good Christian home before I found out what a
+kettleful of jealousies and hatreds it was. The head master was an old
+sap-head; and the boys! . . . I was strange and ugly, and they thought
+they could torment and bully me; but I fought 'em . . . by the Lord, I
+fought 'em day and night, I fought 'em all around the place! And when
+I'd mastered 'em, you should have seen how they cringed and toadied!
+They hated the slavery they lived under, but not one of them dared
+raise his hand against it.
+
+GER. Well, you've seen the world in your own way. Now are you ready to
+go back to Nibelheim?
+
+HAGEN. Good God, no!
+
+GER. You know it's my duty to send you back.
+
+HAGEN. Oh, say! My dear fellow!
+
+GER. You know the solemn promise I made to King Alberich.
+
+HAGEN. Yes . . . but you can't carry it out.
+
+GER. But I can!
+
+HAGEN. How?
+
+GER. I could invoke the law, if need be. You know you are a minor . . .
+
+HAGEN. My dear boy, I'm over seven hundred years old!
+
+GER. Ah, but that is a quibble. You know that in our world that is
+only equal to about eighteen . . .
+
+HAGEN. I have read up the law, but I haven't found any provision for
+reducing Nibelung ages to your scale.
+
+GER. But you can't deny . . .
+
+HAGEN. I wouldn't need to deny. The story's absurd on the face of it.
+You know perfectly well that there are no such things as Nibelungs!
+[GERALD gasps.] And besides, you're a poet, and everybody knows you're
+crazy. Fancy what the newspaper reporters would do with such a yarn!
+[Cheerfully.] Come, old man, forget about it, and let's be friends.
+You'll have a lot more fun watching my career. And besides, what do
+you want? I've come back, and I'm ready to follow your advice.
+
+GER. How do you mean?
+
+HAGEN. You told me to stay in school until I'd got my bearings in the
+world. And then I was to have a career. Well, I've got my education
+for myself . . . and now I'm ready for the career. [After a pause.]
+Listen, Gerald. I said I'd be a self-made man. I said I'd conquer the
+world for myself. But of late I've come to realize how far it is to
+the top, and I can't spare the time.
+
+GER. I see.
+
+HAGEN. And then . . . besides that . . . I've met a woman.
+
+GER. [Startled.] Good heavens!
+
+HAGEN. Yes. I'm in love.
+
+GER. But surely . . . you don't expect to marry!
+
+HAGEN. Why not? My mother was an earth-woman, and her mother, also.
+
+GER. To be sure. I'd not realized it. [A pause.] Who is the woman?
+
+HAGEN. I don't know. I only know she belongs in this world of yours.
+And I've come to seek her out. I shall get her, never fear!
+
+GER. What are your plans?
+
+HAGEN. I've looked this Christian civilization of yours over . . . and
+I'm prepared to play the game. You can take me up and put me into
+Society . . . as you offered to do before. You'll find that I'll do
+you credit.
+
+GER. But such a career requires money.
+
+HAGEN. Of course. Alberich will furnish it, if you tell him it's
+needed. You must call Mimi.
+
+GER. Mimi is here now.
+
+HAGEN. [Starting.] What!
+
+GER. He is in the house.
+
+HAGEN. For what?
+
+GER. He came to look for you.
+
+HAGEN. What is the matter?
+
+GER. I don't know. He wants you to return to Nibelheim.
+
+HAGEN. Find him. Let me see him!
+
+GER. All right. Wait here.
+
+[Exit left.]
+
+HAGEN. What can that mean?
+
+EST. [Enters, right, sees PRINCE HAGEN, starts wildly and screams.]
+Ah! [She stands transfixed; a long pause.] Steve O'Hagen! [A pause.]
+Steve O'Hagen! What does it mean?
+
+HAGEN. Who are you?
+
+EST. I live here.
+
+HAGEN. Your name?
+
+EST. Estelle Isman.
+
+HAGEN. [In a transport of amazement.] Estelle Isman! You are Gerald's
+sister!
+
+EST. Yes.
+
+HAGEN. By the gods!
+
+EST. [Terrified.] You know my brother!
+
+HAGEN. Yes.
+
+EST. You . . . Steve O'Hagen!
+
+HAGEN. [Gravely.] I am Prince Hagen
+
+EST. Prince Hagen!
+
+HAGEN. A foreign nobleman.
+
+EST. What . . . what do you mean? You were on the Bowery!
+
+HAGEN. I came to this country to study its institutions. I wished to
+know them for myself . . . therefore I went into politics. Don't you
+see?
+
+EST! [Dazed.] I see!
+
+HAGEN. Now I am on the point of giving up the game and telling the
+story of my experiences.
+
+EST. What are you doing here . . . in this house?
+
+HAGEN. I came for you.
+
+EST. [Stares at him.] How dare you?
+
+HAGEN. I would dare anything for you! [They gaze at each other.] Don't
+you understand?
+
+EST. [Vehemently.] No! No! I am afraid of you! You have no business to
+be here!
+
+HAGEN. [Taking a step towards her.] Listen . . .
+
+EST. No! I will not hear you! You cannot come here!
+
+[Stares at him, then abruptly exit, centre.]
+
+HAGEN. [Laughs.] Humph! [Hearing voices.] Who is this?
+
+RUTH. [Off right.] I don't agree with you.
+
+IS. Nor I, either, Plimpton. [Enters with PLIMPTON and RUTHERFORD;
+sees HAGEN.] Oh . . . I beg your pardon.
+
+HAGEN. I am waiting for your son, Sir.
+
+IS. I see. Won't you be seated?
+
+HAGEN. I thank you. [Sits at ease in chair.]
+
+PLIM. My point is, it's as Lord Alderdyce says . . . we have no
+hereditary aristocracy in this country, no traditions of authority . .
+. nothing to hold the mob in check.
+
+IS. There is the constitution.
+
+PLIM. They may over-ride it.
+
+IS. There are the courts.
+
+PLIM. They may defy the courts.
+
+RUTH. Oh, Plimpton, that's absurd!
+
+PLIM. Nothing of the kind, Rutherford! Suppose they were to elect to
+office some wild and reckless demagog . . . take, for instance, that
+ruffian you were telling us about . . . down there on the Bowery . . .
+[HAGEN starts, and listens] and he were to defy the law and the
+courts? He is preaching just that to the mob . . . striving to rouse
+the elemental wild beast in them! And some day they will pour out into
+this avenue . . .
+
+RUTH. [Vehemently.] Very well, Plimpton! Let them come! Have we not
+the militia and the regulars? We could sweep the avenue with one
+machine gun . . .
+
+PLIM. But suppose the troops would not fire?
+
+RUTH. But that is impossible!
+
+PLIM. Nothing of the kind, Rutherford! No, no . . . we must go back of
+all that! It is in the hearts of the people that we must erect our
+defenses. It is the spirit of this godless and skeptical age that is
+undermining order. We must teach the people the truths of religion. We
+must inculcate lessons of sobriety and thrift, of reverence for
+constituted authority. We must set our faces against these new
+preachers of license and infidelity . . . we must go back to the old-
+time faith . . . to love, and charity, and self-sacrifice . . .
+
+HAGEN. [Interrupting.] That's it! You've got it there!
+
+IS. [Amazed.] Why . . .
+
+PLIM. Sir?
+
+HAGEN. You've said it! Set the parsons after them! Teach them heaven!
+Set them to singing about harps and golden crowns, and milk and honey
+flowing! Then you can shut them up in slums and starve them, and they
+won't know the difference. Teach them non-resistance and self-
+renunciation! You've got the phrases all pat . . . handed out from
+heaven direct! Take no thought saying what ye shall eat! Lay not up
+for yourselves treasures on earth! Render unto Caesar the things that
+are Caesar's!
+
+IS. Why . . . this is preposterous!
+
+PLIM. This is blasphemy!
+
+HAGEN. You're Plimpton . . . Plimpton, the coal baron, I take it. I
+know you by your pictures. You shut up little children by tens of
+thousands to toil for you in the bowels of the earth. You crush your
+rivals, and form a trust, and screw up prices to freeze the poor in
+winter! And you . . . [to RUTHERFORD] you're Rutherford, the steel
+king, I take it. You have slaves working twelve hours a day and seven
+days a week in your mills. And you mangle them in hideous accidents,
+and then cheat their widows of their rights . . . and then you build
+churches, and set your parsons to preach to them about love and self-
+sacrifice! To teach them charity, while you crucify justice! To trick
+them with visions of an imaginary paradise, while you pick their
+pockets upon earth! To put arms in their hands, and send them to shoot
+their brothers, in the name of the Prince of Peace!
+
+RUTH. This is outrageous!
+
+PLIM. [Clenching his fists.] Infamous scoundrel!
+
+RUTH. [Advancing Upon HAGEN.] How dare you!
+
+HAGEN. It stings, does it? Ha! Ha!
+
+PLIM. [Sputtering.] You wretch!
+
+IS. This has gone too far. Stop, Rutherford! Calm yourself, Plimpton.
+Let us not forget ourselves! [To PRINCE HAGEN, haughtily.] I do not
+know who you are, sir, or by what right you are in my house. You say
+that you are a friend of my son's . . .
+
+HAGEN. I claim that honor, sir.
+
+IS. The fact that you claim it prevents my ordering you into the
+street. But I will see my son, sir, and find out by what right you are
+here to insult my guests. [Turning.] Come, Plimpton. Come, Rutherford
+. . . we will bandy no words with him!
+
+[They go off, centre.]
+
+HAGEN. [Alone.] By God! I touched them! Ha, ha, ha! [Grimly.] He will
+order me into the street! [With concentrated fury.] That is it! They
+shut you out! They build a wall about themselves! Aristocracy!
+[Clenching his fast.] Very well! So be it! You sit within your
+fortress of privilege! You are haughty and contemptuous, flaunting
+your power! But I'll breach your battlements, I'll lay them in the
+dust! I'll bring you to your knees before me!
+
+[A silence. Suddenly there is heard, very faintly, the Nibelung theme.
+It is repeated; HAGEN starts.]
+
+MIMI. [Enters, left.] Prince Hagen!
+
+HAGEN. Mimi!
+
+MIMI. At last!
+
+HAGEN. [Approaching.] What is it?
+
+MIMI. [Beckons.] Come here.
+
+HAGEN. [In excitement.] What do you want?
+
+MIMI. You must come back!
+
+HAGEN. What do you mean?
+
+MIMI. The people want you.
+
+HAGEN. What for?
+
+MIMI. They need you. You must be king.
+
+HAGEN. [Wildly.] Ha?
+
+MIMI. Alberich . . .
+
+HAGEN. Alberich?
+
+MIMI. He is dead!
+
+HAGEN. [With wild start.] Dead!
+
+MIMI. Yes . . . he died last night!
+
+HAGEN. [Turns pale and staggers; then leaps at Mimi, clutching him by
+the arm.] No! NO!
+
+MIMI. It is true.
+
+HAGEN. My God! [A look of wild, drunken rapture crosses his face; he
+clenches his hands and raises his arms.] Ha, ha, ha!
+
+MIMI. [Shrinks in horror.] Prince Hagen!
+
+HAGEN. He is dead! He is dead! [Leaps at mimi.] The gold?
+
+MIMI. The gold is yours.
+
+HAGEN. Ha, ha, ha! It is mine! It is mine! [Begins pacing the floor
+wildly.] Victory! Victory! VICTORY! Ha, ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha! [Spreads
+out his arms, with a triumphant shout.] I have them! By God! Isman!
+Plimpton and Rutherford! Estelle! I have them all! It is triumph! It
+is glory! It is the world! I am King! I am King! King! KING! [Seizes
+MIMI and starts centre; the music rises to climax.] To Nibelheim! To
+Nibelheim! [Stands stretching out his arms in exultation; a wild burst
+of music.] Make way for Hagen! Make way for Hagen!
+
+[CURTAIN]
+
+
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+[The conservatory is a study in green and gold, with strange tropical
+plants having golden flowers. There are entrances right and left. In
+the centre, up-stage, is a niche with a gold table and a couple of
+gold chairs, and behind these a stand with the "coronation cup"; to
+the right the golden throne from Nibelheim, and to the left a gold
+fountain splashing gently.] [At rise: The stage is empty. The strains
+of an orchestra heard from ball-room, left.]
+
+MRS. BAGLEY-WILLIS. [Enters, right, with DE WIGGLESTON RIGGS; she
+wears a very low-cut gown, a stomacher and tiara of diamonds, and
+numerous ropes of pearls.] Well, Wiggie, he has made a success of it!
+
+DE WIGGLESTON RIGGS. [Petit and exquisite.] He was certain to make a
+success when Mrs. Bagley-Willis took him up!
+
+MRS. B.-W. But he wouldn't do a single thing I told him. I never had
+such a protege in my life!
+
+DE W. R. Extraordinary!
+
+MRS. B.-W. I told him it would be frightfully crude, and it is. And
+yet, Wiggie, it's impressive, in its way . . . nobody can miss the
+feeling. Such barbaric splendor!
+
+DE W. R. The very words! Barbaric splendor!
+
+MRS. B.-W. I never heard of anything like it . . . the man simply
+poured out money. It's quite in a different class from other affairs.
+
+DE W. R. [Holding up his hands.] Stupefying!
+
+MRS. B.-W. And did you ever know the public to take such interest in a
+social event? People haven't even stopped to think about the panic in
+Wall Street.
+
+DE W. R. I assure you, Mrs. Bagley-Willis, it begins a new epoch in
+our social history. [To LORD ALDERDYCE, who enters, left, with
+GERALD.] How do you do, Lord Alderdyce?
+
+MRS. B.-W. Good evening, Lord Alderdyce. Good evening, Gerald.
+
+LORD A. Good evening, Mrs. Bagley-Willis. Good evening, Mr. Riggs.
+
+GERALD. Good evening, Wiggie! [DE W. R. and MRS. B.-W. move toward
+left.] I suppose that old lady's taken to herself all the credit for
+this evening's success!
+
+LORD A. Well, really, you know, wasn't it . . . ah . . . quite a feat
+to make society swallow this adventurer?
+
+GERALD. How can anybody stay away? When a man spends several millions
+on a single entertainment people have to come out of pure curiosity.
+
+LORD A. To be sure! I did, anyway!
+
+GER. [Gazing about.] Think of buying all the old Vandergrift palaces
+at one swoop!
+
+LORD A. Oh, really!
+
+GER. This palace was one of the landmarks of the city; all its
+decorations had been taken from old palaces in Italy. And he tore
+everything off and gave it away to a museum, and he made it over in
+three months!
+
+LORD A. Amazing. [Music and applause heard left.]
+
+MRS. B.-W. Mazzanini must be going to sing again.
+
+DE W. R. Let us go!
+
+MRS. B.-W. Fancy opera stars to dance to! A waltz song at a thousand
+dollars a minute!
+
+DE W. R. Ah, but SUCH a song!
+
+[They go off, left; half a dozen guests enter, right, and cross in
+groups.]
+
+RUTH. [Enters, right, with PLIMPTON; looking about.] An extraordinary
+get-up!
+
+PLIMP. Appalling extravagance, Rutherford! Appalling!
+
+RUTH. Practically everybody's here.
+
+PLIMP. Everybody I ever heard of.
+
+RUTH. One doesn't meet you at balls very often, Plimpton.
+
+PLIM. No. To tell the truth, I came from motives of prudence.
+
+RUTH. Humph! To tell the truth, so did I !
+
+PLIM. The man is mad, you know . . . and one can't tell what might
+offend him!
+
+RUTH. And with the market in such a state!
+
+PLIM. It's terrible ! Terrible! . . . ah, Lord Alderdyce!
+
+LORD A. Good evening, Mr. Plimpton. How d'ye do, Mr. Rutherford?
+
+RUTH. As well as could be expected, Lord Alderdyce. It's a trying time
+for men of affairs. [They pass on, and go of, left.]
+
+GER. They must be under quite a strain just now.
+
+LORD A. Don't mention it. Don't mention it! I've invested all my funds
+in this country, and I tremble to pick up the last edition of the
+paper!
+
+MRS. IS. [Enters, right, costumed en grande dame, much excited.] Oh,
+Gerald, Lord Alderdyce, what do you think I've just heard?
+
+LORD A. What?
+
+MRS. IS. About Prince Hagen and Mrs. Bagley-Willis . . . how she came
+to take him up! Percy Pennington told me about it . . . he's her own
+first cousin, you know, Lord Alderdyce . . . and he vows he saw the
+letter in her desk!
+
+LORD A. Oh, tell us!
+
+MRS. IS. Well, it was just after Prince Hagen made his appearance,
+when the papers were printing pages about him. And the news came that
+he'd bought these palaces; and the next day Mrs. Bagley-Willis got a
+letter marked personal. Percy quoted the words . . . Dear Madam: I
+wish to enter Society. I have no time to go through with the usual
+formalities. I am a nobleman, with an extraordinary mind and unlimited
+money. I intend to entertain New York Society as it has never dreamed
+of being entertained before. I should be very pleased if you would co-
+operate with me in making my opening ball a success. If you are
+prepared to do this, I am prepared to pay you the sum of one million
+dollars cash as soon as I receive your acceptance. Needless to say, of
+course, this proposition is entirely confidential!
+
+LORD. A. By jove!
+
+MRS. IS. Think of it!
+
+GER. But can it be true?
+
+MRS. IS. What is more likely, my dear? You know that Mrs. Bagley-
+Willis has been spending millions every season to entertain at
+Newport; and their fortune will never stand that! Oh, I must give it
+to Van Tribber . . . he'll see that the papers have it!
+
+LORD A. But hadn't you better make sure that it's really . . .
+
+MRS. IS. It doesn't make the slightest difference! Everybody will know
+that it's true!
+
+GER. They are ready to believe anything about Prince Hagen.
+
+MRS. IS. Certainly, after a glimpse of this palace. Did you ever see
+such frantic money-spending in your life?
+
+LORD A. Never!
+
+MRS. IS. Gold! Gold! I am positively blinded with the sight of gold.
+I'd seen every kind of decoration and furniture, I thought . . . but
+solid gold is new to me!
+
+LORD A. Just look at this cup, for instance! [Points to coronation
+cup.] And those fountains . . . I believe that even the basins are of
+gold.
+
+MRS. IS. Perhaps we could stop the water and see.
+
+LORD A. I must go . . . I have a dance. I am sorry not to see your
+daughter.
+
+MRS. IS. Yes . . . it was too bad she couldn't come. Good-bye. [LORD
+ALDERDYCE exit.]
+
+MRS. IS. [Pointing to throne.] Look at that thing, Gerald!
+
+GER. Yes . . . no wonder the crowd came!
+
+MRS. IS. I imagine a good many came because they didn't dare stay
+away. They certainly can't be enjoying themselves after such a day
+down town.
+
+GER. It was too bad the panic should come just on the eve of the ball.
+
+MRS. IS. My dear Gerald! That's his sense of humor! He wanted to bring
+them here and set them to dancing and grinning, while in their hearts
+they are frightened to death.
+
+GER. How did he do it, anyway?
+
+MRS. IS. Why, he seems to have money without limit . . . and he's been
+buying and buying . . . everything in sight! You know how prices have
+been soaring the past two months. And of course the public went wild,
+and took to speculating. Then Prince Hagen sold; and the bottom has
+simply dropped out of everything.
+
+GER. I see. And do you suppose the slump has hit father ?
+
+MRS. IS. I don't know. He won't talk to me about it. But it's easy to
+see how distressed he is. And then, to cap the climax, Estelle refuses
+to come here! Prince Hagen is certain to be furious.
+
+GER. For my part, I admire her courage.
+
+MRS. IS. But, Gerald . . . we can't afford to defy this man.
+
+GER. Estelle can afford it, I hope.
+
+MRS. IS. Here comes your father now. Look at him! Gerald, won't you
+go, please . . . I want to have a talk with him.
+
+GER. All right. [Exit, right.]
+
+MRS. IS. John!
+
+ISMAN. [Enters, left, pale and depressed.] What is it?
+
+MRS. IS. You look so haggard and worried!
+
+IS. I AM worried!
+
+MRS. IS. You ought to be home in bed.
+
+IS. I couldn't sleep. What good would it do?
+
+MRS. IS. Aren't you going to get any rest at all?
+
+IS. It's time for reports from the London markets pretty soon. They
+open at five o'clock, by our time. And I'm hoping there may be some
+support for Intercontinental . . . it's my last hope
+
+MRS. IS. Oh, dear me! Dear me!
+
+IS. If that fails, there is nothing left for us. We are ruined!
+Utterly ruined!
+
+MRS. IS. John!
+
+IS. We shall be paupers!
+
+MRS. IS. John Isman, that's absurd! A man who's worth a hundred
+million dollars, like you . . .
+
+IS. It'll be gone . . . all of it!
+
+MRS. IS. Gone?
+
+Is. Do you realize that to-day I had to sell every dollar of my
+Transatlantic stock?
+
+MRS. IS. [Horrified.] Good God!
+
+IS. There has never been a day like it in all history ! There are no
+words to tell about it!
+
+MRS. IS. Oh, that monster!
+
+IS. And the worst of it is, the man seems to be after me particularly!
+Everything I rely upon seems to collapse . . . everywhere I turn I
+find that I'm blocked.
+
+MRS. IS. Oh, it must have been because of that affair in our house . .
+. and in the saloon that dreadful night. We ought never to have gone
+to that place! I knew as soon as I laid eyes on the man that he'd do
+us harm.
+
+IS. We must keep out of his power. We must save what we can from the
+wreck and learn to do with it. You'll have to give up your Newport
+plans this year.
+
+MRS. IS. [Aghast.] What!
+
+IS. We won't be able to open the house.
+
+MRS. IS. You're mad!
+
+IS. My dear . . .
+
+MRS. IS. Now, John Isman, you listen to me! I was quite sure you had
+some such idea in your mind! And I tell you right now, I simply will
+not hear of it! I . . .
+
+IS. But what can we do, my dear?
+
+MRS. IS. I don't know what we can do! But you'll have to raise money
+somehow. I will not surrender my social position to Mrs. Bagley-Willis
+. . . not for all the Wall Street panics in the world. Oh, that man is
+a fiend! I tell you, John Isman . . .
+
+IS. Control yourself!
+
+HAGEN. [Off right.] Very well! I shall be charmed, I'm sure. [Enters.]
+Oh! How do you do, Mrs. Isman?
+
+MRS. IS. Oh, Prince Hagen, a most beautiful evening you've given us.
+
+HAGEN. Ah ! I'm glad if you've enjoyed it.
+
+MRS. IS. Yes, indeed . . .
+
+IS. Prince Hagen, may I have a few words with you?
+
+HAGEN. Why, surely . . . if you wish . . .
+
+IS. I do.
+
+MRS. IS. Prince Hagen will excuse me. [Exit, left.]
+
+HAGEN. [Goes to table, centre, and sits opposite ISMAN.] Well?
+
+IS. Prince Hagen, what do you want with me?
+
+HAGEN. [Surprised.] Why . . . the pleasure of your company.
+
+IS. I mean in the Street.
+
+HAGEN. Oh! Have you been hit?
+
+IS. Don't mock me. You have used your resources deliberately to ruin
+me. You have followed me . . . you have taken every railroad in which
+I am interested, and driven it to the wall. And I ask you, man to man,
+what do you want?
+
+HAGEN. [After some thought.] Isman, listen to me. You remember four
+months ago I offered you a business alliance ?
+
+IS. I had no idea of your resources then. Had I known, I should not
+have rejected your offer. Am I being punished for that?
+
+HAGEN. No, Isman . . . it isn't punishment. Had you gone into the
+alliance with me it would have been just the same. It was my purpose
+to get you into my power.
+
+IS. Oh!
+
+HAGEN. To bring you here . . . to make you sit down before me, and
+ask, What do you want? . . . And so I will tell you what I want, man
+to man! [A pause.] I want your daughter.
+
+IS. [Starts.] What!
+
+HAGEN. I want your daughter.
+
+IS. Good God!
+
+HAGEN. Do you understand now?
+
+IS. [Whispering.] I understand!
+
+HAGEN. Isman, you are a man of the world, and we can talk together. I
+love your daughter, and I wish to make her my wife.
+
+IS. And so you ruined me!
+
+HAGEN. Four months ago I was an interloper and an adventurer. In a
+month or two I shall be the master of your financial and political
+world. Then I had nothing to offer your daughter. Now I can make her
+the first lady of the land.
+
+IS. But, man, we don't sell our children . . . not in America.
+
+HAGEN. Don't talk to me like a fool, Isman. I never have anything to
+do with your shams.
+
+IS. But the girl! She must consent!
+
+HAGEN. I'll attend to that. Meantime, I want you to know what I mean.
+On the day that your daughter marries me I will put you at the head of
+my interests, and make you the second richest man in America. You
+understand?
+
+IS. [Weakly.] I understand.
+
+HAGEN. Very well. And don't forget to tell your wife about it. [He
+rises.]
+
+IS. Is that all?
+
+HAGEN. No; one thing more. Your daughter is not here to-night.
+
+IS. No.
+
+HAGEN. I wish her to come.
+
+IS. But . . . she is indisposed!
+
+HAGEN. That is a pretext. She did not want to come.
+
+IS. Possibly . . .
+
+HAGEN. Tell her to come.
+
+IS. [Startled.] What? Now? It is too late!
+
+HAGEN. Nonsense. Your home is only a block away. Telephone to her.
+
+IS. [Dismayed.] But . . . she will not be ready.
+
+HAGEN. Tell her to come! Whatever she is wearing, she will outshine
+them all. [ISMAN hesitates a moment, as if to speak, then goes off,
+right, half dazed; the other watches him, laughing silently to
+himself.] That's all right! [Sees Calkins.] Ah, Calkins!
+
+CALKINS. [Enters with an armful of papers.] Here are the morning
+papers, Prince.
+
+HAGEN. Ah! [Takes them.] Still moist! Did you think I wanted them that
+badly?
+
+CAL. Promptness never harms.
+
+HAGEN. [Opening papers.] That's true. Ah, they hardly knew which was
+more important . . . the ball or the panic! We filled them up pretty
+full. Did you see if they followed the proofs?
+
+CAL. There are no material changes.
+
+HAGEN. Ha! Ha! Cartoons! Prince Hagen invites the Four Hundred with
+one hand and knocks them down with the other! Pretty good! Pretty
+good! What's this? Three millions to decorate his palaces . . . half a
+million for a single ball?
+
+CAL. I suppose they couldn't credit the figures.
+
+HAGEN. Humph! We'll educate them! [Sweeps papers out of the way.] So
+much for that! Were all the orders for the London opening gone over?
+
+CAL. All correct, Prince.
+
+HAGEN. Very good! That's all. [CAL. exit.] They're all anxious about
+London . . . I can see it! Ah, Gerald!
+
+GER. [Enters, right.] Hello!
+
+HAGEN. [Smiling.] You see, they came to my party!
+
+GER. Yes.
+
+HAGEN. They smile and chatter . . . they bow and cringe to me . . .
+and I have not preached any of your Christian virtues, either!
+
+GER. No. I grant it. It's a very painful sight. [After a pause.] That
+was a pleasant fancy . . . to have a panic on the eve of your ball!
+
+HAGEN. It wasn't nearly as bad as I meant it to be. Wait and see
+today's!
+
+GER. What's the end of it all?
+
+HAGEN. The end? Why have an end? I didn't make this game . . . I play
+it according to other men's rules. I buy and sell stocks, and make
+what money I can. The end may take care of itself.
+
+GER. It's rather hard on the helpless people, isn't it?
+
+HAGEN. Humph ! The people! [After a pause.] Gerald, this world of
+yours has always seemed to me like a barrel full of rats. There's only
+room for a certain number on top, and the rest must sweat for it till
+they die.
+
+GER. It's not a very pleasant image to think of.
+
+HAGEN. I don't think of it. I simply happen to find myself on top, and
+I stay there and enjoy the view. [Seats himself at table.] As a matter
+of fact, Gerald, one of the things I intend to do with this world is
+to clean it up. Don't imagine that I will tolerate such stupid waste
+as we have at present . . . everybody trying to cheat everybody else,
+and nobody to keep the streets clean. It's as if a dozen mere should
+go out into a field to catch a horse, and spend all their time in
+trying to keep each other from catching it. When I take charge they'll
+catch the horse.
+
+GER. [Drily.] And you'll ride him.
+
+HAGEN. And I'll ride him. [Laughs.]
+
+GER. [After a pause.] At first I couldn't make out why you bothered
+with this Society game. Now I begin to understand. You wanted to see
+them!
+
+HAGEN. I wanted to watch them wriggle! I wanted to take them, one by
+one, and strip off their shams! Take that fellow Rutherford, the steel
+man! Or Plimpton, the coal baron, casting his eyes up to heaven, and
+singing psalms through his nose! The instant I laid eyes on that
+whining old hypocrite, I hated him; and I vowed I'd never rest again
+till I'd shown him as he is . . . a coward and a knave! And I tell
+you, Gerald, before I get through with him . . . Ah, there he is!
+
+PLIM. [Off.] Hello, Isman!
+
+HAGEN. Come. [Draws back with GERALD.]
+
+IS. [Entering, right, with PLIMPTON and RUTHERFORD.] Any word yet?
+
+PLIM. Nothing yet!
+
+RUTH. Such a night as this has been!
+
+IS. If the thing keeps up today the Exchange will have to close . . .
+there will be no help for it.
+
+PLIM. We are in the hands of a madman!
+
+RUTH. We must have a conference with him . . . we must find out what
+he wants.
+
+IS. Did you speak to him, Plimpton?
+
+PLIM. I tried to. I might as well have butted my head against a stone
+wall. "I have money," he said, "and I wish to buy and sell stocks.
+Isn't that my right?"
+
+RUTH. He's a fiend! A fiend!
+
+PLIM. He smiled as he shook my hand . . . and he knows that if coal
+stocks go down another ten points I'll be utterly ruined!
+
+IS. Terrible! Terrible!
+
+PLIM. [To RUTHERFORD.] Rutherford, have you learned any more about
+where his money comes from?
+
+RUTH. I meant to tell you . . . I've had another report. The mystery
+deepens every hour. It's always the same thing . . . the man takes a
+train and goes out into the country; he gathers all the wagons for
+miles around, and goes to some place in the woods . . . and there is a
+pile of gold, fifty tons of it, maybe, covered over with brush. Nobody
+knows how it got there, nobody has time to ask. He loads it into the
+wagons, takes it aboard the train, and brings it to the Sub-treasury.
+
+IS. The man's an alchemist! He's been manufacturing it and getting
+ready.
+
+RUTH. Perhaps. Who can tell? All I know is the Sub-treasury has bought
+over two billion dollars' worth of gold bullion in the last four
+months . . . and what can we do in the face of that?
+
+PLIM. No wonder that prices went up to the skies!
+
+RUTH. I had the White House on the 'phone this afternoon. We can
+demonetize gold . . . the government can refuse to buy any more.
+
+IS. But then what would become of credit?
+
+PLIM. [Vehemently.] No, no . . . that will not help! [Gazes about
+nervously.] There's only one thing. [Whispers.] That man must be
+killed!
+
+RUTH. [Horrified.] Ah!
+
+IS. No.
+
+PLIM. Just that! Nothing else will help! And instantly . . . or it
+will be too late.
+
+IS. Plimpton!
+
+PLIM. He must not be alive when the Exchange opens this morning!
+
+RUTH. But how?
+
+PLIM. I don't know . . . but we must find a way! We owe it as a public
+duty . . . the man is a menace to society. Rutherford, you are with me?
+
+RUTH. By God! I am!
+
+IS. You're mad!
+
+PLIM. You don't agree with me?
+
+IS. It's not to be thought of! You're forgetting yourself, Plimpton .
+. . ,
+
+PLIM. [Gazing about.] This is no place to discuss it. But I tell you
+that if there is no support from London . . .
+
+RUTH. [Starting.] Come . . . perhaps there may be word! [They start
+left.] We may beat them yet . . . who can tell?
+
+[PLIMPTON, RUTHERFORD and ISMAN go off.]
+
+HAGEN. [Emerges with GERALD from shadows, shaking with laughter.] Hat
+ha! ha! Love and self-sacrifice! You see, Gerald!
+
+GER. Yes . . . I see! [Looks right . . . then starts violently.] My
+sister!
+
+HAGEN. Ah !
+
+GER. What does this mean?
+
+HAGEN. [To ESTELLE, who enters, right, evidently agitated.] Miss Isman!
+
+EST. My father said . . .
+
+HAGEN. Yes. Won't you sit down?
+
+EST. [Hesitatingly.] Why . . . I suppose so . . .
+
+HAGEN. [To GERALD.] Will you excuse us, please, Gerald?
+
+GER. [Amazed.] Why, yes . . . but Estelle . . .
+
+EST. [In a faint voice.] Please go, Gerald.
+
+GER. Oh! very well. [Exit, left.]
+
+EST. You wished to see me.
+
+HAGEN. Yes. [Sitting opposite.] How do you like it all?
+
+EST. It is very beautiful.
+
+HAGEN. Do you really think so?
+
+EST. [Wondering.] Don't you?
+
+HAGEN. No.
+
+EST. Truly ?
+
+HAGEN. No.
+
+EST. Then why did you do it?
+
+HAGEN. To please you.
+
+EST. [Shrinks.] Oh!
+
+HAGEN. [Fixes his gaze on her, and slowly leans across table; with
+intensity.] Haven't you discovered yet that you are mine?
+
+EST. [Half rising.] Prince Hagen!
+
+HAGEN. How long will it be before you know it?
+
+EST. How dare you?
+
+HAGEN. Listen. I am a man accustomed to command. I have no time to
+play with conventions . . . I cannot dally and plead. But I love you.
+I cannot live without you! And I will shake the foundations of the
+world to get you!
+
+EST. [Staring, fascinated; whispers.] Prince Hagen!
+
+HAGEN. All this . . . [waving his hand] I did in the hope that it
+would bring you here . . . so that I might have a chance to tell you.
+Simply for that one purpose. I have broken the business world to my
+will . . . that also was to make you mine!
+
+EST. [Wildly.] You have ruined my father!
+
+HAGEN. Your father has played this game, and his path is strewn with
+the rivals he has ruined. He knows that, and you know it. Now I have
+played the game; and I have beaten him. It took me one day to bring
+him down . . . [Laughs.] It will take me less time to put him back
+again.
+
+EST. But why, why?
+
+HAGEN. Listen, Estelle. I came to this civilization of yours, and
+looked at it. It seemed to me that it was built upon knavery and fraud
+. . . that it was altogether a vile thing . . . rotten to the core of
+it! And I said I would smash it, as a child smashes a toy; I would
+toss it about . . . as your brother the poet tosses his metaphors. But
+then I saw you, and in a flash all that was changed. You were
+beautiful . . . you were interesting. You were something in the world
+worth winning . . . something I had not known about before. But you
+stood upon the pinnacle of Privilege . . . you gathered the clouds
+about your head. How should I climb to you?
+
+EST. [Frightened.] I see!
+
+HAGEN. I came to your home . . . I was turned from the door. So I set
+to work to break my way to you.
+
+EST. I see!
+
+HAGEN. And that is how I love you. You are all there is in the game to
+me. I bring the world and lay it at your feet. It is all yours. You do
+not like what I do with it, perhaps. Very well . . . take it and do
+better. The power is yours for the asking! Power without end! [He
+reaches out his arms to her; a pause.] You do not like my way of love-
+making, perhaps. You find me harsh and rude. But I love you. And
+where, among the men that you know, will you find one who can feel for
+you what I feel . . . who would dare for you what I have dared? [Gazes
+at her with intensity.] Take your time. I have no wish to hurry you.
+But you must know that, wherever you go, my hand is upon you. All that
+I do, I do for the love of you.
+
+EST. [Weakly.] I . . . you frighten me!
+
+HAGEN. All the world I lay at your feet! You shall see.
+
+PLIM. [Off left.] Prince Hagen!
+
+HAGEN. [Starting.] Ah!
+
+PLIM. [Enters, running, in great agitation, with a telegram.] Prince
+Hagen!
+
+HAGEN. Well?
+
+PLIM. I have a report from London. The market has gone all to pieces!
+
+HAGEN. Ah!
+
+PLIM. Pennsylvania coal is down twenty-five points in the first half
+hour. I'm lost . . . everything is lost!
+
+RUTH. [Running on.] Prince Hagen! Steel is down to four! And the Bank
+of England suspends payments! What...
+
+PLIM. What do you want with us? What are you trying to do?
+
+RUTH. [Wildly.] You've crushed us! We're helpless, utterly helpless !
+
+PLIM. Have you no mercy? Aren't you satisfied when you've got us down?
+
+RUTH. Are you going to ruin everybody? Are you a madman?
+
+PLIM. What are you trying to do? What do you want?
+
+HAGEN. [Has been listening in silence. Suddenly he leaps into action,
+an expression of furious rage coming upon his face. His eyes gleam,
+and he raises his hand as if to strike the two.] Get down on your
+knees!
+
+PLIM. Ha!
+
+RUTH. What?
+
+HAGEN. [Louder.] Get down on your knees! [PLIMPTON sinks in horror.
+PRINCE HAGEN turns Upon RUTHERFORD.] Down!
+
+RUTH. [Sinking.] Mercy!
+
+HAGEN. [As they kneel before him, his anger vanishes; he steps back.]
+There! [Waving his hand.] You asked me what I wanted? I wanted this .
+. . to see you there . . . upon your knees! [To spectators, who appear
+right and left.] Behold!
+
+RUTH. Oh! [Starts to rise.]
+
+HAGEN. [Savagely.] Stay where you are! . . . To see you on your knees!
+To hear you crying for mercy, which you will not get! You pious
+plunderers! Devourers of the people! Assassins of women and helpless
+children! Who made the rules of this game . . . you or I? Who cast the
+halo of righteousness about it . . . who sanctified it by the laws of
+God and man? Property! Property was holy! Property must rule! You
+carved it into your constitutions . . . you taught it in your
+newspapers, you preached it from your pulpits! You screwed down wages,
+you screwed up prices . . . it must be right, because it paid! Money
+was the test . . . money was the end! You were business men! Practical
+men! Don't you know the phrases? Money talks! Business is business!
+The gold standard . . . ha, ha, ha! The gold standard! Now someone has
+come who has more gold than you. You were masters . . . now I am the
+master! And what you have done to the people I will do to you! You
+shall drink the cup that you have poured out for them . . . you shall
+drink it to the dregs!
+
+PLIM. [Starting to rise.] Monster!
+
+HAGEN. Stay where you are! Cringe and grovel and whine! [Draws a
+Nibelung whip from under his coat.] I will put the lash upon your
+backs! I will strip your shams from you . . . I will see you as you
+are! I will take away your wealth, that you have wrung from others!
+Before I get through with you you shall sweat with the toilers in the
+trenches! For I am the master now! I have the gold! I own the
+property! The world is mine! You were lords and barons . . . you ruled
+in your little principalities! But I shall rule everywhere . . .
+every- thing . . . all civilization! I shall be king! King! [With
+exultant gesture.] Make way for the king! Make way for the king!
+
+CURTAIN
+
+
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+[The scene shows a spacious room, fitted with luxurious rusticity. To
+the right of centre are a couple of broad windows, leading to a
+veranda. In the corner, right is a table, with a telephone. In the
+centre of the room is a large table, with a lamp and books, and a
+leather arm-chair at each side. To the left of centre is a spacious
+stone fireplace, having within it a trap door opening downward. At the
+left a piano with a violin upon it. There are exposed oak beams;
+antlers, rifles, snowshoes, etc., upon the walls. Entrances right and
+left.]
+
+[At rise: CALKINS, standing by the desk, arranging some papers.]
+
+CALKINS. [As 'phone rings.] Hello! Yes, this is the Isman camp. Prince
+Hagen is staying here. This is his secretary speaking. No, Prince
+Hagen does not receive telephone calls. No, not under any
+circumstances whatever. It doesn't make any difference. If the
+President of the United States has anything to say to Prince Hagen,
+let him communicate with Mr. Isman at his New York office, and the
+message will reach him. I am sorry . . . those are my instructions.
+Good-bye. [To HICKS, who enters with telegram.] Hicks, for the future,
+Prince Hagen wishes all messages for him to be taken to my office.
+That applies to letters, telegrams . . . everything.
+
+HICKS. Very good, sir. [Exit.]
+
+CAL. [Opening a telegram.] More appeals for mercy.
+
+HAGEN. [Enters from veranda, wearing white flannels, cool and alert.]
+Well, Calkins?
+
+CAL. Nothing important, sir.
+
+HAGEN. The market continues to fall?
+
+CAL. Copper is off five points, sir.
+
+HAGEN. Ah !
+
+CAL. The President of the United States tried to get you on the 'phone
+just now.
+
+HAGEN. Humph! Anything else?
+
+CAL. There has been another mob on Fifth Avenue this morning. They
+seem to be threatening your palace.
+
+HAGEN. I see. You wrote to the mayor, as I told you?
+
+CAL. Yes, sir.
+
+HAGEN. Well, you'd best put in another hundred guards. And they're to
+be instructed to shoot.
+
+CAL. Yes, sir.
+
+HAGEN. Let them be men we can depend on . . . I don't want any mistake
+about it. I don't care about the building, but I mean to make a test
+of it.
+
+CAL. I'll see to it, sir.
+
+HAGEN. Anything else?
+
+CAL. A message from a delegation from the National Unemployment
+Conference. They are to call tomorrow morning.
+
+HAGEN. Ah, yes. Make a note, please . . . I sympathize with their
+purpose, and contribute half a million. [To GERALD, who enters, left.]
+Hello, Gerald . . . how are you? Make yourself at home. [To CALKINS.]
+I attribute the present desperate situation to the anarchical
+struggles of rival financial interests. I am assuming control, and
+straightening out the tangle as rapidly as I can. The worst of the
+crisis is over . . . the opposition is capitulating, and I expect soon
+to order a general resumption of industry. Prepare me an address of
+five hundred words . . . sharp and snappy. Then see the head of the
+delegation, and have it understood that the affair is not to occupy
+more than fifteen minutes.
+
+CAL. Very good, sir.
+
+HAGEN. And stir up our Press Bureau. We must have strong, conservative
+editorials this week . . . It's the crucial period. Our institutions
+are at stake . . . the national honor is imperilled . . . order must
+be preserved at any hazard . . . all that sort of thing.
+
+CAL. Yes, sir . . . I understand.
+
+HAGEN. Very good. That will be all.
+
+CAL. Yes, sir.
+
+[Exit, right.]
+
+GER. You're putting the screws on, are you?
+
+HAGEN. Humph! Yes. It's funny to hear these financial men . . . their
+one idea in life has been to dominate . . . and now they cry out
+against tyranny!
+
+GER. I can imagine it.
+
+HAGEN. Here's Plimpton, making speeches about American democracy!
+These fellows have got so used to making pretenses that they actually
+deceive themselves.
+
+GER. I've noticed that you make a few yourself now.
+
+HAGEN. Yes . . . don't I do it well? [Thoughtfully.] You know, Gerald,
+pretenses are the greatest device that your civilization had to teach
+me.
+
+GER. Indeed?
+
+HAGEN. We never made any pretenses in Nibelheim; and when I first met
+you, your talk about virtue and morality and self-sacrifice was simply
+incomprehensible to me. It seemed something quite apart from life. But
+now I've come to perceive that this is what makes possible the system
+under which you live.
+
+GER. Explain yourself.
+
+HAGEN. Here is this civilization . . . simply appalling in its
+vastness. The countless millions of your people, the wealth you have
+piled up . . . it seems like a huge bubble that may burst any minute.
+And the one device by which it is all kept together . . . is pretense!
+
+GER. Why do you think that?
+
+HAGEN. Life, Gerald, is the survival of the strong. I care not if it
+be in a jungle or in a city, it is the warfare of each against all.
+But in the former case it's brute force, and in the latter it's power
+of mind. And don't you see that the ingenious device which makes the
+animal of the slums the docile slave of the man who can outwit him . .
+. is this Morality . . . this absolutely sublimest invention, this
+most daring conception that ever flashed across the mind of man?
+
+GER. Oh, I see.
+
+HAGEN. I used to wonder at it down there on the Bowery. The poor are a
+thousand to your one, and the best that is might be theirs, if they
+chose to take it; but there is Morality! They call it their virtue.
+And so the rich man may have his vices in peace. By heaven, if that is
+not a wondrous achievement, I have not seen one!
+
+GER. You believe this morality was invented by the rich.
+
+HAGEN. I don't know. It seems to be a congenital disease.
+
+GER. Some people believe it was implanted in man by God.
+
+HAGEN. [Shrugging his shoulders.] Perhaps. Or by a devil. Men might
+have lived in holes, like woodchucks, and been fat and happy; but now
+they have Morality, and toil and die for some other man's delight.
+
+CAL. [Enters, right.] Are you at leisure, sir?
+
+HAGEN. Why?
+
+CAL. Mr. Isman wants you on the 'phone.
+
+HAGEN. Oh! All right . . . [Goes to 'phone.]
+
+GER. [Rises.] Perhaps I . . ,
+
+HAGEN. No, that's all right. [Sits at 'phone.] Hello! Is that Isman?
+How are you? [To CALKINS.] Calkins!
+
+CAL. Yes, sir.
+
+[Sits and takes notes.]
+
+HAGEN. How about Intercontinental? [Imperiously.] But I can! I said
+the stock was to go to sixty-four, and I want it to go. I don't care
+what it costs, Isman . . . let it go in the morning . . . and don't
+ever let this happen again. I have sent word you are to have another
+hundred million by nine-thirty. Will that do? Don't take chances. Oh,
+Rutherford! Tell Rutherford my terms are that the directors of the
+Fidelity Life Insurance Company are to resign, and he is to go to
+China for six months. Yes. I mean that literally . . . Plimpton? What
+do I want with his banks . . . I've got my own money . . . And, oh, by
+the way, Isman . . . call up the White House again, and tell the
+President that the regulars will be needed in New York . . . . No, I
+understand you . . . I think I've fixed matters up at this end. I've
+got two hundred guards up here, and they're picked men . . . they'll
+shoot if there's need. I'm not talking about it, naturally . . . but
+I'm taking care of myself. You keep your nerve, Isman. It'll all be
+over in a month or two more . . . these fellows are used to having
+their own way, and they make a fuss. And, by the way, as to the
+newspapers . . . we'll turn out that paper trust crowd, and stop
+selling paper to the ones that are making trouble. That'll put an end
+to it, I fancy. You had best get after it yourself, and have it
+attended to promptly. You might think of little things like that
+yourself, Isman . . . no, you're all right; only you haven't got
+enough imagination. But just get onto this job, and let me hear that
+it's done before morn- ing. Good-bye. [Hangs up receiver.] Humph! [To
+GERALD.] They've about got your father's nerve.
+
+GER. I can't say that I blame him very much. [In somber thought.]
+Really, you know, Prince Hagen, this can't go on. What's to be the end
+of it?
+
+HAGEN. [Laughing.] Oh, come, come, Gerald . . . don't bother your head
+with things like that! You're a poet . . . you must keep your
+imagination free from such dismal matters . . . . See, I've got a job
+for you. [Pointing to books on table.] Do you notice the titles?
+
+GER. [Has been handling the books absent-mindedly; now looks at
+titles.] The Saints' Everlasting Rest. Pilgrim's Progress. The Life of
+St. Ignatius. . . . What does that mean?
+
+HAGEN. I'm studying up on religion. I want to know the language.
+
+GER. I See!
+
+HAGEN. But I don't seem to get hold of it very well. I think it's the
+job for you.
+
+GER. How do you mean?
+
+HAGEN. I'm getting ready to introduce Morality into Nibelheim.
+
+GER. What?
+
+HAGEN. [Playfully.] You remember you talked to me about it a long time
+ago. And now I've come to your way of thinking. Suppose I gave you a
+chance to civilize the place, to teach those wretched creatures to
+love beauty and virtue?
+
+GER. It would depend upon what your motive was in inviting me.
+
+HAGEN. My Motive? What has that to do with it? Virtue is virtue, is it
+not? . . . No matter what I think about it?
+
+GER. Yes.
+
+HAGEN. And virtue is its own reward?
+
+GER. Perhaps so.
+
+HAGEN. Let us grant that the consequences of educating and elevating
+the Nibelungs . . . of teaching them to love righteousness . . . would
+be that they were deprived of all their gold, and forced to labor at
+getting more for a wicked capitalist like me. Would it not still be
+right to teach them?
+
+GER. It might, perhaps.
+
+HAGEN. Then you will try it?
+
+GER. No . . . I'm afraid not.
+
+HAGEN. Why not?
+
+GER. [Gravely.] Well . . . for one thing . . . I have weighty reasons
+for doubting the perfectibility of the Nibelungs.
+
+HAGEN. [Gazes at him; then shakes with laughter.] Really, Gerald, that
+is the one clever thing I've heard you say !
+
+GER. [Laughing.] Thank you!
+
+HAGEN. [Rises and looks at watch.] Your mother was coming down. Ah !
+Mrs. Isman !
+
+MRS. IS. [Enters, left.] Good afternoon, Prince Hagen.
+
+HAGEN. And how go things?
+
+MRS. IS. I've just had a telegram from my brother. He says that the
+Archbishop of Canterbury never goes abroad, and was shocked at the
+suggestion; but he thinks two million might fetch him.
+
+HAGEN. Very well . . . offer it.
+
+MRS. IS. Do you really think it's worth that?
+
+HAGEN. My dear lady, it is worth anything if it will make you happy
+and add to the eclat of the wedding. There's nothing too good for
+Estelle.
+
+MRS. IS. Ah, what a wonderful man you are. [Eyeing him.] I was
+wondering how rose pink would go with your complexion.
+
+HAGEN. Dear me! Am I to wear rose pink?
+
+MRS. IS. No, but I'm planning the decoration for the wedding breakfast
+. . . . And I'm puzzled about the flowers. I'm weary of orchids and la
+France roses . . . Mrs. Bagley-Willis had her ball room swamped with
+them last week.
+
+HAGEN. We must certainly not imitate Mrs. Bagley-Willis.
+
+MRS. IS. [Complacently.] I fancy she's pretty nearly at the end of her
+rope. My maid tells me she couldn't pay her grocer's bill till she got
+that million from you!
+
+HAGEN. Ha, ha, ha!
+
+MRS. IS. I wish you'd come with me for a moment . . . I have some
+designs for the breakfast menu . . .
+
+HAGEN. Delighted, I'm sure. [They go off, left.]
+
+GER. Oh, my God!
+
+EST. [Enters in a beautiful afternoon gown, and carrying an armful of
+roses; she is nervous and preoccupied.] Ah! Gerald!
+
+GER. Estelle. [He watches her in silence; she arranges flowers.]
+
+EST. How goes the poem, Gerald?
+
+GER. The poem! Who could think of a poem at a time like this?
+[Advancing toward her.] Estelle! I can bear it no longer!
+
+EST. What?
+
+GER. This crime! I tell you it's a crime you're committing!
+
+EST. Oh, Gerald! Don't begin that again. You know it's too late. And
+it tears me to pieces!
+
+GER. I can't help it. I must say it!
+
+EST. [Hurrying toward him.] Brother ! You must not say another word to
+me! I tell you you must not . . . I can't bear it!
+
+GER. Estelle . . .
+
+EST. No, I say . . . no! I've given my word! My honor is pledged, and
+it's too late to turn back. I have permitted father to incur
+obligations before all the world
+
+GER. But, Estelle, you don't know. If you understood all ...all...
+
+EST. [With sudden intensity.] Gerald! I know what you mean! I have
+felt it! You know more about Prince Hagen than you have told me. There
+is some secret- something strange. [She stares at him wildly.] I don't
+want to know it! Gerald . . . don't you understand? We are in that
+man's hands! We are at his mercy! Don't you know that he would never
+give me up? He would follow me to the end of the earth! He would wreck
+the whole world to get me! I am in a cage with a wild beast!
+
+[They stare at each other.]
+
+GER. [In sudden excitement.] Estelle!
+
+EST. What?
+
+GER. Can it be that you love this man?
+
+EST. [Startled.] I don't know! How can I tell? He terrifies me. He
+fascinates me. I don't know what to make of him. And I don't dare to
+think. [Wildly.] And what difference does it make? I have promised to
+marry him!
+
+[MRS. ISMAN enters, left, and listens.]
+
+EST. And I must keep my word! You must not try to dissuade me . . .
+
+MRS. IS. Estelle!
+
+EST. Mother!
+
+MRS. IS. Has Gerald been tormenting you again? My child, my child . .
+. I implore you, don't let that madness take hold of you! Think of our
+position. [Attempts to embrace her.] I know how it is . . . I went
+through with it myself. We women all have to go through with it. I did
+not care for your father . . . it nearly broke my heart. I was madly
+in love at the time . . . truly I was! But think what will become of
+us . . .
+
+EST. [Vehemently, pushing her away.] Mother! I forbid you to speak
+another word to me! I will not bear it! I will keep my bargain. I will
+do what I have said I will do. But I will not have you talk to me
+about it . . . Do you understand me?
+
+MRS. IS. My dear!
+
+EST. Please go! Both of you! I wish to be alone!
+
+MRS. IS. [In great agitation.] Oh, dear me! dear me!
+
+[Exit, left.]
+
+GER. Good-bye!
+
+[Exit, right; ESTELLE recovers herself by an effort; stands by table
+in thought. Twilight has begun to gather.]
+
+HAGEN. [Enters by veranda.] Ah ! Estelle! [Comes toward her.] My
+beautiful! [Makes to embrace her.] Not yet?
+
+EST. [Faintly.] Prince Hagen, I told you . . .
+
+HAGEN. I know, I know! But how much longer? I love you! The sight of
+you is fire in my veins. Have I not been patient? The time is very
+short . . . when will you let me . . .
+
+[Advances.]
+
+EST. [Gasping.] Give me . . . give me till tomorrow!
+
+HAGEN. [Gripping his hands.] To-morrow! Very well! [Turns to table.]
+Ah, flowers! Do you like the new poppies?
+
+EST. They are exquisite!
+
+HAGEN. [Sits in chair.] Well, we've had a busy day today.
+
+EST. Yes. You must be tired.
+
+HAGEN. In your house? No!
+
+EST. Rest, even so. [Goes to piano.] I will play for you. [Sits, and
+takes Rheingold score.] One of Gerald's scores.
+
+[Plays a little, then sounds the Nibelung theme. PRINCE HAGEN starts.
+She repeats it.]
+
+HAGEN. No . . . no!
+
+EST. Why-what's the matter?
+
+HAGEN. That music! What is it?
+
+EST. It's some of the Nibelung music. Gerald had it here.
+
+HAGEN. Don't play it! [Hesitating.] Music jars on me now . . . I've
+too much on my mind.
+
+EST. [Rising.] Oh . . . very well. It is time for tea, anyway. Have
+you talked with father today?
+
+HAGEN. Three times. He is in the thick of the fight. He plays the game
+well.
+
+EST. He has played it a long time.
+
+HAGEN. Yes. ['Phone rings.] Ah! What is that? [Takes receiver.] Hello!
+Yes . . . oh, Isman ! I see' More trouble in Fifth Avenue, hey? Well,
+are the regulars there? Why don't they fire? Women and children in
+front! Do they expect to accomplish anything by that? No, don't call
+me up about matters like that, Isman. The orders have been given. No .
+. . not an inch! Let the orders be carried out. That is all. Good-bye.
+Hangs up receiver.
+
+EST. [Has been listening in terror.] Prince Hagen!
+
+HAGEN. Well?
+
+EST. What does that mean?
+
+HAGEN. It means that the slums are pouring into Fifth Avenue.
+
+EST. [A pause.] What do they want?
+
+HAGEN. Apparently they want to burn my palace.
+
+EST. And the orders . . . what are the orders?
+
+HAGEN. The orders are to shoot, and to shoot straight.
+
+EST. Is it for me that you are doing this?
+
+HAGEN. How do you mean?
+
+EST. You told me you brought all the world and laid it at my feet. Is
+this part of the process?
+
+HAGEN. Yes, this is part.
+
+EST. [Stares at him intently; whispers.] How do you do it?
+
+HAGEN. What?
+
+EST. What is the secret of your power? They are millions, and you are
+only one . . . yet you have them bound! Is it some spell that you have
+woven? [A pause; HAGEN stares at her. She goes on, with growing
+intensity and excitement.] They are afraid of your gold! Afraid of
+your gold! All the world is afraid of it! It is nothing -it is a dream
+. . . it is a nightmare! If they would defy you . . . if they would
+open their eyes . . . it would go as all nightmares go! But you have
+made them believe in it! They cower and cringe before it! They toil
+and slave for it! They take up arms and murder their brothers for it !
+They sell their minds and their souls for it! And all because no one
+dares to defy you! No one! No one! [In a sudden transport of passion.]
+I defy you! [PRINCE HAGEN starts; she gazes at him wildly.] I will not
+marry you! I will not sell myself to you! Not for any price that you
+can offer . . . not for any threat that you can make! Not in order
+that my mother may plan wedding breakfasts and triumph over Mrs.
+Bagley-Willis! Not in order that my father may rule in Wall Street and
+command the slaughter of women and children! Nor yet for the fear of
+anything that you can do!
+
+HAGEN. [In a low voice.] Have you any idea what I will do?
+
+EST. [Desperately.] I know what you mean . . . you have me at your
+mercy! You have your guards - I am in a trap! And you mean force . . .
+I have felt it in all your actions . . . behind all your words. Very
+well! There is a way of escape, even from that; and I will take it!
+You can compel me to kill myself; but you can never compel me to marry
+you! Not with all the power you can summon . . . not with all the
+wealth of the world! Do you understand me? [They stare at each other.]
+I have heard you talk with my brother, and I know what are your ideas.
+You came to our civilization, and tried it, and found it a lie. Virtue
+and honor . . . justice and mercy . . . all these things were
+pretenses . . . snares for the unwary. There was no one you could not
+frighten with your gold! That is your creed, and so far it has served
+you . . . but no farther! There is one thing in the world you cannot
+get . . . one thing that is beyond the reach of all your cunning! And
+that is a woman's soul. [With a gesture of exultant triumph.] You
+cannot buy me!
+
+HAGEN. Estelle!
+
+EST. Go!
+
+HAGEN. [Stretching out his arms to her.] I love you!
+
+EST. You love me! The slave driver . . . with his golden whip!
+
+HAGEN. Even so . . . I love you.
+
+EST. What do you know of love? What does the word mean to you? Before
+love must come justice and honor, with it come mercy and self-
+sacrifice . . . all things that you deride and trample on. What have
+you to do with love?
+
+HAGEN. [With intensity.] I love you! More than anything else in all
+the world . . . I love you !
+
+EST. [Stares at him.] More than your power?
+
+HAGEN. Estelle! Listen to me! You do not know what my life has been!
+But I can say this for myself . . . I have sought the best that I
+know. I have sought Reality. [A pause.] I seek your love! I seek those
+things which you have, and which I have not. [Fiercely.] Do you think
+that I have not felt the difference?
+
+EST. [In a startled whisper.] No!
+
+HAGEN. That which you have, and which I have not, has become all the
+world to me! I love you . . . I cannot live without you. I will follow
+you wherever you command. Only teach me how to win your love.
+
+EST. I cannot make terms with you. I will not hear of love from you
+while you have force in your hands.
+
+HAGEN. I will leave your home. I will set you free. I will humble
+myself before you. What else can I do?
+
+EST. You can lay down your power.
+
+HAGEN. Estelle! Those are mere words.
+
+EST. No!
+
+HAGEN. Who is to take up the power? Shall I hand it back to those who
+had it before? Are Plimpton and Rutherford better fitted to wield it
+than I?
+
+EST. [Vehemently.] Give it to the people!
+
+HAGEN. The people! Do you believe that in that mass of ignorance and
+corruption which you call the people there is the power to rule the
+world?
+
+EST. What is it that has made the people corrupt? What is it that has
+kept them in ignorance? What is it but your gold? It lies upon them
+like a mountain's weight! It crushes every aspiration for freedom...
+every effort after light! Teach them... help them... then see if they
+cannot govern themselves!
+
+HAGEN. I meant to do it...
+
+EST. Yes... so does every rich man! When only he has the time to think
+of it! When only his power is secure! I have heard my father say it...
+a score of times. But there are always new rivals to trample... new
+foes to fight... new wrongs and horrors to be perpetrated! The time to
+do it is now... NOW!
+
+HAGEN. Estelle...
+
+CAL. [Enters hurriedly.] Prince Hagen!
+
+HAGEN. What is it?
+
+CAL. A message from Isman. There is bad news from Washington.
+
+HAGEN. Well?
+
+CAL. A. bill has been introduced in Congress... it is expected to pass
+both houses to-night... your property is to be confiscated!
+
+HAGEN. What!
+
+CAL. The sources of natural wealth... the land and the mines and the
+railroads... all are to become public property. It is to take effect
+at once!
+
+EST. [Pointing at him in exultation.] Aha! It has come!
+
+[They stare at each other.]
+
+CAL. I tried to get more information... but I was cut off...
+
+HAGEN. Cut off!
+
+CAL. I think the wires are down... I can't get any response.
+
+HAGEN. I see! [Stands in deep thought; laughs.] Well... [To ESTELLE.]
+At least Plimpton and Rutherford are buried with me! [To CALKINS.]
+Send to town at once and have the wires seen to. And try to learn what
+you can.
+
+CAL. Yes, sir... at once! [Exit.]
+
+EST. They have done it themselves, you see!
+
+HAGEN. Yes... I see.
+
+GER. [Enters, centre; stands looking from one to the other.] Well,
+Prince Hagen... it looks as if the game was up.
+
+HAGEN. You've heard the news?
+
+GER. From Washington? Yes. And more than that. Your guards have
+revolted.
+
+HAGEN. What! Here?
+
+GER. Yes. We're prisoners of war, it seems.
+
+EST. Gerald!
+
+HAGEN. How do you know?
+
+GER. They've sent a delegation to tell us. They've cut the telephone
+wires, blocked the roads, and shut us in.
+
+HAGEN. What do they want?
+
+GER. They don't condescend to tell us that. They simply inform us that
+the woods are guarded, and that anyone who tries to leave the camp
+will be shot.
+
+EST. [In fright.] Prince Hagen!
+
+[HAGEN stands motionless.]
+
+GER. [Solemnly.] Hagen, the game is up!
+
+HAGEN. [In deep thought.] Yes. The game is up. [A pause.] Gerald!
+
+GER. Well?
+
+HAGEN. [Points to violin.] Play!
+
+GER. [Startled.] No!
+
+HAGEN. Play!
+
+GER. You will go?
+
+HAGEN. Yes. I will go. But I will come back! Play! [GERALD takes the
+violin and plays the Nibelung theme.] Louder!
+
+GERALD plays the Nibelung music, which is taken up by the orchestra
+and mounts to a climax, in the midst of which HAGEN pronounces a sort
+of incantation.
+
+Mimi! Mimi! Open the gates of wonderland! Bring back the mood of
+phantasy, and wake us from our evil dream!
+
+Silence. Then answering echoes of the music are heard, faintly, from
+the fireplace. There are rappings and murmurings underground, rumbling
+and patter of feet, and all the sounds of Nibelheim. As the music
+swells louder, the trap doors slide open, and MIMI appears, amid steam
+and glare of light. ESTELLE sees him, and recoils in terror. A company
+of Nibelungs emerge one by one. They peer about timidly, recognize
+HAGEN, and with much trepidation approach him. MIMI clasps his hand,
+and they surround him with joyful cries. He moves toward the
+fireplace, and the steam envelops him.
+
+EST. [Starts toward him, stretching out her arms to him.] Prince
+Hagen!
+
+HAGEN. Farewell!
+
+He gradually retires, and disappears with the Nibelungs. The orchestra
+sounds the motive of Siegfried Triumphant.
+
+CURTAIN
+
+
+
+
+
+End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Prince Hagen, by Upton Sinclair
+
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