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diff --git a/3239-h/3239-h.htm b/3239-h/3239-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1aa2bc4 --- /dev/null +++ b/3239-h/3239-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,16073 @@ +<?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> THE SCEPTER + WHICH WAS A STICK <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> THE + COUP D'ETAT OF COUSIN JOSEF <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER + III. </a> AN EPISODE TEN YEARS AFTER <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a> AN ADVENTURE WITH + ROYALTY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a> BEHIND + THE PUPPET BOOTH <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a> MADEMOISELLE + OF THE VEIL <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a> SOME + DIALOGUE, A SPRAINED ANKLE, AND SOME SOLDIERS <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a> THE RED CHATEAU + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a> NOTHING + MORE SERIOUS THAN A HOUSE PARTY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> + CHAPTER X. </a> BEING OF LONG RIDES, MAIDS, KISSES AND + MESSAGES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a> THE + DENOUEMENT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a> WHOM + THE GODS DESTROY AND A FEW OTHERS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0013"> + CHAPTER XIII. </a> BEING OF COMPLICATIONS NOT RECKONED ON + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a> QUI + M'AIME, AIME MON CHIEN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. + </a> IN WHICH FORTUNE BECOMES CARELESS AND PRODIGAL <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a> WHAT HAPPENED AT + THE ARCHBISHOP'S PALACE AND AFTER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0017"> + CHAPTER XVII. </a> SOME PASSAGES AT ARMS <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a> A MINOR CHORD AND A + CHANGE OF MOVEMENT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a> A + CHANCE RIDE IN THE NIGHT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. + </a> THE LAST STAND OF A BAD SERVANT <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a> A COURT FETE AT THE + RED CHATEAU <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a> IN + WHICH MAURICE RECURS TO OFFENBACH <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0023"> + CHAPTER XXIII. </a> A GAME OF POKER AND THE STAKES <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. </a> THE PRISONER OF + THE RED CHATEAU <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. </a> THE + FORTUNES OF WAR <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. </a> A + PAGE FROM TASSO <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII. </a> WORMWOOD + AND LEES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII. </a> INTO + THE HANDS OF AUSTRIA <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX. + </a> 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—and then + Re-mold it nearer to the Heart's desire! + + —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—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. + </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—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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You are only forty-eight,” said the Englishman; “you are young.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You can mold lead, but you can not sculpture it; and I am lead.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; not only the metal, but the verb intransitive. Ah, could the fires + of ambition light your soul!” + </p> + <p> + “My soul is a blackened grate of burnt-out fires, of which only a coal + remains.” + </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> + “God knows what her legacy will be!” + </p> + <p> + “It is for you to make it, Sire.” + </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> + “And how is your Royal Highness this fine day? he asked, patting the hand + before letting it go. + </p> + <p> + “Will you have a dahlia, Monsieur?” With a grave air she selected a flower + and slipped it through his button-hole. + </p> + <p> + “Does your Highness know the language of the flowers?” the Englishman + asked. + </p> + <p> + “Dahlias signify dignity and elegance; you are dignified, Monsieur, and + dignity is elegance.” + </p> + <p> + “Well!” cried the Englishman, smiling with pleasure; “that is turned as + adroitly as a woman of thirty.” + </p> + <p> + “And am I not to have one?” asked the king, his eyes full of paternal love + and pride. + </p> + <p> + “They are for your Majesty's table,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </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> + “And here is Bull,” said the princess, tickling the dog's nose with a + scarlet geranium. + </p> + <p> + “Your Highness thinks a deal of Bull?” said the dog's master. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Monsieur, he doesn't bark, and he seems to understand all I say to + him.” + </p> + <p> + The dog looked up at his master as if to say: “There now, what do you + think of that?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The girl's eyes sparkled. “Thank you, Monsieur, shall I take him now?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “The Diet was unanimous in regard to this loan?” + </p> + <p> + “In fact they suggested it, and I was much in favor.” + </p> + <p> + “You have many friends there, then?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And did not that strike you as rather singular?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “So far as I can see,” answered the king, who could make nothing of this + interrogatory. + </p> + <p> + “Which, if your Majesty will pardon me, is not very far beyond your + books.” + </p> + <p> + “I have ministers.” + </p> + <p> + “Who can see farther than your Majesty has any idea.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Will your Majesty listen?” + </p> + <p> + “I promise.” + </p> + <p> + “And to hear?” + </p> + <p> + “I promise not only to listen, but to hear,” laughing; “not only to hear, + but to think. Is that sufficient?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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: “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. + </p> + <p> + “To begin with,” said the diplomat, “what would your Majesty say if I + should ask permission to purchase the entire loan?” + </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> + “Five millions of crowns?” he gasped. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; what would your Majesty say to such a proposition?” complacently. + </p> + <p> + “I should say,” answered the king, with a nervous laugh, “that my friend + had lost his senses, completely and totally.” + </p> + <p> + “The fact is,” the Englishman declared, “they were never keener nor more + lucid than at this present moment.” + </p> + <p> + “But five millions!” + </p> + <p> + “Five millions; a bagatelle,” smiling. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I can not recollect that the bill was as you say,” said the king, + frowning. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “As a representative of England?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you say impossible, Sire?” + </p> + <p> + “I can not permit you to put in jeopardy a quarter of a million pounds,” + forgetting for the moment that he was powerless. + </p> + <p> + “Aha!” the diplomat cried briskly. “There is, then, beneath your weariness + and philosophy, a fear?” + </p> + <p> + “A fear?” With an effort the king smoothed the line from his forehead. + “Why should there be fear?” + </p> + <p> + “Why indeed, when our cousin Josef—” He stopped and looked toward + the mountains. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “He has friends, rich and powerful friends.” + </p> + <p> + “No matter, I should pay him.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you quite sure?” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “The face of the world changes in the course of ten years. Will there be + five millions in your treasury ten years hence?” + </p> + <p> + “The wealth of my kingdom is not to be questioned,” proudly, “nor its + resources.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “My friend,” he said, finally, sighing, “proceed. I am all attention.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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> + “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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I will defeat him!” cried the king, a fire at last shining in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You will not.” + </p> + <p> + “I will appeal to the confederation and inform them of the plot.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is that?” wearily. + </p> + <p> + “Accept my friendship at its true value.” + </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> + “Come with me,” said the king, rising quickly. “I will no longer dream. I + will act. Come.” + </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> + “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. + </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> + “Count,” began the king, pleasantly, “his Excellency here has made a + peculiar request.” + </p> + <p> + “And what might that be, Sire?” + </p> + <p> + “He offers to purchase the entire number of certificates issued to-day for + our loan.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + The Englishman bowed again, the wrinkle of a smile on his face. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “O, your Majesty,” cried the minister, excitedly, “it would not be + politic. And then the measure—” + </p> + <p> + “Is it possible that I have misconstrued its import?” the diplomat + interposed with a fine air of surprise. + </p> + <p> + “You are familiar—” began the count, hesitatingly. + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly; that is, I believe so.” + </p> + <p> + “But England—” + </p> + <p> + “Has nothing whatever to do with the matter. Something greater, which goes + by the name of self-interest.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said the count, his wrinkles relaxing; “then it is on your own + responsibility?” + </p> + <p> + “Precisely.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Your Majesty's lamented predecessor—” + </p> + <p> + “Is dead,” said the king gently. He had no desire to hear the minister + recount that ruler's virtues. “Peace to his ashes.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “It is too bad,” said the king, pulling his thoughts together. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “It is of no moment now,” 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> + “Well,” said the king impatiently, “let us be gone, my friend. The talk of + money always leaves a copperish taste on my tongue.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I am lost!” said the king. + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary, you are saved. Everard & Co. are my bankers and + attorneys; in fact, I own an interest in the firm.” + </p> + <p> + “What is this you tell me?” cried the king. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “My friend!” said the king. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, to lose you now!” 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,—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> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “Did Herr say the Continental?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “No; the Grand.” + </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> + “You may have these,” he said, “for the trouble of having them exchanged + into crowns.” + </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—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 “England.” The proprietor, who + acted as his own clerk, drew the book toward him, and after some time, + deciphered the cabalistic signs. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Herr John Hamilton of England; is that right?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I am here for a few days' shooting. Can you find me a man to act as + guide?” + </p> + <p> + “This very morning, Herr.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment the knuckles of a hand beat against the door. + </p> + <p> + “Come in!” answered the Englishman, wheeling his chair, but making no + effort to rise. “Come in!” + </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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Your duty, Monsieur the Spectacles, is to inspect at the station. There + your assistants refused to award me their attention. You are trespassing.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “O, Monsieur!” + </p> + <p> + “Good day!” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, it is my duty; I must!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “But, Monsieur!” remonstrated the inspector, who did not enjoy this + infringement of his prerogatives; his was the part to overhaul. “This is—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “The gun cases!” The pipe spilled its coal to the floor. “The gun cases!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “And why do you wish to look into them?” with agitation. + </p> + <p> + “Smugglers sometimes fill them with cigars.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The fellow sank half-fainting into a chair. “Mon Dieu, Monsieur, would you + kill me who have a family?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, Monsieur, you do wrong to trifle with the law. I shall be + obliged to report you. You will be arrested.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + The Englishman unloaded the gun and tossed it on the bed. + </p> + <p> + “Thanks. In coming here I simply obeyed the orders of the minister of + police.” + </p> + <p> + “And what in the world did you expect to find?” + </p> + <p> + “We are looking—that is, they are looking—O, Monsieur, it is + impossible for me to disclose to you my government's purposes.” + </p> + <p> + “What and whom were you expecting?” demanded the Englishman. “You shall + not leave this room till you have fully explained this remarkable + intrusion.” + </p> + <p> + “We were expecting the Lord and Baronet Fitzgerald.” + </p> + <p> + “The lord!” laughing. “Does the lord visit Bleiberg often, then, that you + prepare this sort of a reception? And the Baronet Fitzgerald?” + </p> + <p> + “They are the same and the one person.” + </p> + <p> + “And who the deuce is he; a spy, a smuggler, a villain, or what?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “What! Examined his luggage at the hotel?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Monsieur. It is the order of the minister of police. I know not + why.” The natural color was returning to his cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “The king?” The inspector raised a shoulder and spread his hands. “The + king is a paralytic, Monsieur, and has little to say these days.” + </p> + <p> + “A paralytic? I thought he was called `the handsome monarch'?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “This is very sad. I suppose it would be impossible for strangers to see + him now.” + </p> + <p> + “An audience?” a sparkle behind the spectacles. “Is your business with the + king, Monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur did not give me the chance,” simply. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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. “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.” + </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> + “Come in!” Under his breath he added: “The gendarmes, likely.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Send him up. If he pleases me, I'll use him.” + </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> + “Are you a good hunter?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Speak English?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Herr's German is excellent, however.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Will Herr hunt this morning?” + </p> + <p> + “No; what I wish this morning is to see the city of Bleiberg.” + </p> + <p> + “That is simple,” 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> + “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.” + </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> + “It makes Vienna look to her laurels, eh, Herr?” said Johann. + </p> + <p> + “But it must have cost a pretty penny.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “On the twentieth? That is strange.” + </p> + <p> + “Strange?” + </p> + <p> + “I meant nothing,” said the Englishman, jerking back his shoulders; “I had + in mind another affair.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “Any political significance in this marriage?” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “Baron von Rumpf,” repeated the Englishman thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; he is not a man to submit to accusations without making a + disagreeable defense.” + </p> + <p> + “What does the duke say?” + </p> + <p> + “The duke?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “His Highness has been dead these four years.” + </p> + <p> + “Dead four years? So much for man and his futile dreams. Dead four years,” + absently. + </p> + <p> + “What did you say, Herr?” + </p> + <p> + “I? Nothing. How did he die?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me, young man, that you are talking treason.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “One must live,” Johann added deprecatingly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, one must live,” replied the Englishman. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “So you are a socialist?” said the Englishman, passing over Johann's + declamatory confidences. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Herr. All men are brothers.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “That is the British legation, Herr.” + </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. “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. + </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> + “There was a fine old man there in the bygone days,” said Johann. + </p> + <p> + “And who was he?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “He was a millionaire, too,” went on Johann. + </p> + <p> + “Well, we can't all be rich. Come.” + </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> + “Look, Herr!” cried Johann, rousing the other by a pull at the sleeve. + “Look!” 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> + “Who is that?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “That is her Royal Highness the Crown Princess Alexia.” + </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 “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. + </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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “Mademoiselle,” he said, “pardon this intrusion, but my boat has met with + an accident.” + </p> + <p> + The girl came to the gate. “Why, Monsieur,” she exclaimed, “you are wet!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Thank you,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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 “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. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon my rudeness,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “What is your name, Monsieur,” she asked calmly. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Maurice Carewe,” slowly repeating the full name as if to imprint it on + her memory. “You are English?” + </p> + <p> + He said: “No; I am one of those dreadful Yankees you have possibly read + about.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “It would take me ever so long to tell you about it, it is such a great + country.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Austria? You will not be offended if I tell you?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “Are you a magician?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Bull never makes friends.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “He was given to me, years ago, by an Englishman.” + </p> + <p> + “That accounts for it.” He was experiencing a deal of cold, but he dared + not mention it. “And may I ask your name?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Monsieur,” shyly, “to tell you my name would be to frighten you + away.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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—all of which combined + to produce that indescribable air which attaches itself to the gentleman. + </p> + <p> + “It is Alexia,” she said, after some hesitation, watching him closely to + observe the effect. + </p> + <p> + But he was as far away as ever. “Alexia what?” + </p> + <p> + “Only Alexia,” a faint coquetry stealing into her glance. + </p> + <p> + “O, then you are probably a maid?” + </p> + <p> + “Y—es. But you are disappointed?” + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed. You have put me more at ease. I suppose you serve the + princess?” + </p> + <p> + “Whenever I can,” demurely. + </p> + <p> + He could not keep his eyes from hers. “They say that she is a very lonely + princess.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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. “I feel sorry for + her, if what they say is true,” having no other words. + </p> + <p> + “And what do they say, Monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Friendship, Monsieur, is a thing we all should prize, all the more so + when it is disinterested.” + </p> + <p> + He said rapidly, for fear she might hear his teeth chatter: “They say she + is very beautiful. Tell me what she is like.” + </p> + <p> + “I am no judge of what men call beauty. As to her character, I believe I + may recommend that. She is good.” + </p> + <p> + He was sure that merriment twitched the corners of her lips, and he grew + thoughtful. “Alexia. Is that not her Highness's name also?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Monsieur; we have the same names.” Her eyes fell, and she began to + finger the pages of the book. + </p> + <p> + “I am rested now,” he said, with a sudden distrust. “I thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, then, and I will show you the way to the gate.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry to have troubled you,” 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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “O, Mademoiselle,” he cried in alarm, “that desire was expressed in + confidence.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Close at hand Maurice discovered a cuirassier, who, on seeing them, + saluted and stood attention. Maurice was puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “Lieutenant,” said the girl, “Monsieur—Carewe?” turning to Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is the name.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Well, Monsieur Carewe!” said the Lieutenant, a broad smile under his + mustache. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, Lieutenant. May I ask you who she is?” + </p> + <p> + “What! You do not know?” + </p> + <p> + Maurice suddenly saw light. “Her Royal Highness?” blankly. + </p> + <p> + “Her Royal Highness, God bless her!” cried the Lieutenant heartily. + </p> + <p> + “Amen to that,” 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: “Would Monsieur like to borrow my helmet for a space?” + </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> + “Curse the luck!” he said, in English. + </p> + <p> + “Curse the want of it, I should say!” was the merry rejoinder, also in + English. + </p> + <p> + Maurice threw back his head and laughed, and the cuirassier caught the + infection. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Von Mitter, Carl von Mitter, at your service. And you are Monsieur + Carewe.” + </p> + <p> + “Of the American legation in Vienna. Thanks for your trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “None at all. You had better hurry along; your nails are growing black.” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </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> + “The other gun, Herr,” he said, “would have meant the boar.” + </p> + <p> + “So it would, perhaps,” was the reply. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “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.” + </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—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> + “And Prince Frederick has not yet been heard from?” was his first inquiry. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Says nothing,” the archbishop answered, “a way with her when troubled.” + </p> + <p> + “And my old friend, Lord Fitzgerald?” + </p> + <p> + The prelate shook his head sadly. “We have just been made acquainted with + his death. God rest his kindly soul.” + </p> + <p> + The king sank deeper into his pillows. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “O!” cried the king, “I had forgotten that magnanimity. His disappearance + is no longer a mystery. He is dead.” + </p> + <p> + His auditors could not repress the start which this declaration caused + them to make. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “It is too late,” said the king. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “All men are honest in your Majesty's eyes,” said the archbishop. + </p> + <p> + “All save the man within me,” 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> + “How long will he live?” asked the latter. + </p> + <p> + “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> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “He will come; youth will be youth.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps.” + </p> + <p> + “You have never been young.” + </p> + <p> + “Not in that particular sense to which you refer,” 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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “O ho!” The Colonel pulled his mustache. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I have waited six years.” + </p> + <p> + “And I have waited fourteen.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “He is too old.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Not in France nor in Austria. But this man was an Englishman; they leave + legacies of friendship.” + </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> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “You would not kill—” began the minister. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But, since the prince promises to liquidate the debt, what matters it if + the Englishman comes? It is all one and the same.” + </p> + <p> + “Within twenty, nay, within fifteen days, what may not happen?” + </p> + <p> + “You are ambitious,” said von Wallenstein, slyly. + </p> + <p> + “And who is not?” + </p> + <p> + “Is a Marshal's baton so much, then, above your present position? You are + practically the head of the army.” + </p> + <p> + “A valiant army!” laughing; “five thousand men. Why, Madame the duchess + has six thousand and three batteries.” + </p> + <p> + “Her army of six thousand is an expedient; you can raise volunteers to the + amount of ten thousand.” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure I could; but supposing I did not want to?” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “A man who comes from a noble house such as you come from—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You are playing two games,” coldly. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “You are mad to dream of that.” + </p> + <p> + “As you say, I come of a noble house,” carelessly. + </p> + <p> + “You are mad.” + </p> + <p> + “No, count,” the soldier replied. “I have what Balzac calls a thirst for a + full life in a short space.” + </p> + <p> + “I would give a deal to read what is going on in that head of yours.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Both laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Till this evening, then;” 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> + “What,” he mused aloud, as he arranged the papers on his desk, “is his + third game?” + </p> + <p> + “It appears to me,” said a voice from the wall behind, “that the same + question arises in both our minds.” + </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> + “I had forgotten all about you, Marshal!” exclaimed the count, smiling + uneasily. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Disinterested man! The inference is, however, that, since you have not + asked for anything, you have been promised something. Confess it, and have + done.” + </p> + <p> + “Marshal!” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “Is it possible that you suspect me?” The cold eyes grew colder, and the + thin lips almost disappeared. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + The minister did not respond to the question; he began instead to fidget + in his chair. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “It was to show you that I had no secrets from you,” quickly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You forget our patriotism for the true house.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not give it its true name—self-interest?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “It is something I've been swallowing this past year.” The Marshal tipped + the ash of his cigar into the waste basket. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, but I have asked for no reward. If I accepted gain for what I do, + I should not be too old to blush.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not understand.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Austria?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “The archbishop?” The minister was surprised that the Marshal should + concur with the Colonel. “And the other?” + </p> + <p> + “Your friend the Colonel,” starting for the door. + </p> + <p> + The minister smiled. “Will you not dine with me?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + Von Wallenstein reviewed the statements of both his visitors. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </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—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—till—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—with an effort—and + settled back in his chair to renew his interest in the panorama revolving + around him. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Good evening, Mademoiselle,” he said, politely lifting his hat. + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall I call a gendarme, Monsieur, and have him search for your nurse?” + The attitude which accompanied these words was anything but assuring. + </p> + <p> + He, however, evinced no alarm. He even laughed. “That was good! We shall + get along finely, I am sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” she said, rising, “I repeat that I do not desire your company, + nor to remain in the presence of your unspeakable effrontery.” + </p> + <p> + “I beseech you!” implored Maurice, also rising. “I am a foreigner, + lonesome, unhappy, thousands of miles from home—” + </p> + <p> + “You are English?” 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> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Is it customary among the English to request to speak to strangers + without the usual formalities of an introduction?” + </p> + <p> + “I can not say that it is,” he answered truthfully enough; “but the + procedure is never without a certain charm and excitement.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah; then you were led to address me merely by the love of adventure?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The evolutions of his cane ceased. “How in the world did you guess that?” + surprised beyond measure. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps there is something suggestive in your shoulders.” + </p> + <p> + He tried to peer behind the veil, but in vain. “Am I speaking to one I + have met before?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe not; indeed, sir, I am positive.” + </p> + <p> + “I have been a soldier, but my shoulders did not tell you that.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I have the gift of clairvoyance,” gazing again toward the + entrance. + </p> + <p> + “Or perhaps you have been to Vienna.” + </p> + <p> + “Who knows? Most Englishmen are, or have been, soldiers.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I like to see without being seen. But, of course, behind this love + of adventure which you possess, there is an important mission.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” he thought; “you are not quite sure of me.” Aloud, “Yes, I came here + to witness the comic opera.” + </p> + <p> + “The comic opera? I do not understand?” + </p> + <p> + “I believed there was going to be trouble between the duchy and the + kingdom, but unfortunately the prima donna has refused the part.” + </p> + <p> + “The prima donna!” in a muffled voice. “Whom do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Son Altesse la Grande Duchesse! 'Voici le sabre de mon pere!'” And he + whistled a bar from Offenbach, his eyes dancing. + </p> + <p> + “Sir!—I!—you do wrong to laugh at us!” a flash from the + half-hidden eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me if I have offended you, but I—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And whose side do you defend?” + </p> + <p> + “I am a woman,” was the equivocal answer. + </p> + <p> + “Which means that you are uncertain.” + </p> + <p> + “I have long ago made up my mind.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I was born with its purpose defined,” coldly. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, now I begin to doubt.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” with a still lower degree of warmth. + </p> + <p> + “That you are a woman. Only goddesses do not change their minds—sometimes. + Well, then you are on the weaker side.” + </p> + <p> + “Or the stronger, since there are two sides.” + </p> + <p> + “And the stronger?” persistently. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “I do.” She drew the veil more firmly about her chin. + </p> + <p> + “Grant me a favor.” + </p> + <p> + “I am talking to you, sir.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “I am doomed to haunt you, then. If I should lift the corner of my veil + something terrible would happen.” + </p> + <p> + “What! Are you as beautiful as that?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “You are an American?” She began to tap her gloved fingers against the + table. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + All his anger evaporated. This was an invitation, and he accepted it. He + resumed his seat. + </p> + <p> + “The truth is, as I remarked, I was lonesome. I know that I have committed + a transgression, but the veil tempted me.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Surely you must be a poet!” declared the Veil, when this panegyric was + done. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said he modestly, “I never was quite poor enough for that exalted + position.” He had recovered his good humor. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, you begin to interest me. What is your occupation when not in + search of—comic operas?” + </p> + <p> + “I serve Ananias.” + </p> + <p> + “Ananias?” A pause. “Ah, you are a diplomat?” + </p> + <p> + “How clever of you to guess.” + </p> + <p> + “Yours is a careless country,” observed the Veil. + </p> + <p> + “Careless?” mystified. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And do I look so very young?” + </p> + <p> + “Your beard is that of a boy.” + </p> + <p> + “David slew Goliath.” + </p> + <p> + “At least you have a ready tongue,” laughing. + </p> + <p> + “And you told me that I had been a soldier.” + </p> + <p> + But to this she had nothing to say. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + For some time she remained pensive. + </p> + <p> + “You are thinking of something, Mademoiselle.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you like adventure?” + </p> + <p> + “I subsist on it.” + </p> + <p> + “You have been a soldier; you are, then, familiar with the use of arms?” + </p> + <p> + “They tell me so,” modestly. What was coming? + </p> + <p> + “I have some influence. May I trust you?” + </p> + <p> + “On my honor,” puzzled, yet eager. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Who in thunder might this woman be?” he thought. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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 “Room 12, Continental,” and passed it over the table. She read it, + and slipped it into her purse. + </p> + <p> + Maurice thought: “Who wouldn't join the army with such recruiting + officers?” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + He took his dismissal heroically and shot a final glance at the + approaching soldier. His brows came together. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “That, Monsieur,” answered the gendarme in tones not unmixed with awe, “is + Colonel Beauvais of the royal cuirassiers.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “Ah, Madame,” he said, “you are very brave to choose such a rendezvous.” + </p> + <p> + “Danger is a tonic to the ill-spirited,” was the reply. + </p> + <p> + “If aught should happen to you—” + </p> + <p> + “It was in accord with her wishes that I am here. She suffers from + impatience; and I would risk much to satisfy her whims.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is the news?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “This: The man remains still in obscurity. But he shall be found. Listen,” + and his voice fell into a whisper. + </p> + <p> + “Austria?” Mademoiselle of the Veil pressed her hands together in + excitement. “Is it true?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “The archbishop?” contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “The archbishop? Trust me; one month from now he will be recalled. That is + the news I have for you.” + </p> + <p> + “You have taken a weight from my mind. What do you think in regard to the + rumor of the prince and the peasant girl?” + </p> + <p> + “It afforded me much amusement. You are a man of fine inventions.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is he?” + </p> + <p> + “That I am trying to ascertain. This much—he is an Englishman.” + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle of the Veil laughed. “Pardon my irrelevancy, but the + remembrance of a recent adventure of mine was too strong.” + </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> + “Who is this who stares at us?” asked Beauvais, with a piercing glance and + a startled movement of his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </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> + “John Fitzgerald, or henceforth garlic shall be my salad!” 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> + “Maurice—Maurice Carewe?” said the bewildered Englishman. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Hang you, I'm not!” incogitantly. + </p> + <p> + “Go to the devil, then!” cried Maurice, hotly. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Are you ashamed of it?” asked Maurice, loosing his coat from Fitzgerald's + grip. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Who the deuce are you?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” Fitzgerald knocked his pipe against the railing. “I am the man. + Worse luck! Was any one near when you called me by name?” + </p> + <p> + “Only one of those wooden gendarmes.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What's it all about?” asked Maurice, his astonishment growing and + growing. + </p> + <p> + “Where are your rooms?” + </p> + <p> + “You have something important to tell me?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you may think so. At the Continental? Come along.” + </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> + “What's it all about?” + </p> + <p> + “O, only a crown and a few millions in money.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “Knocks you up a bit, eh?” said Fitzgerald. “Well, I am rather surprised + myself; that is to say, I was.” + </p> + <p> + “Fire away,” said Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “To begin with, if I do not see the king to-morrow, it is not likely that + I ever shall.” + </p> + <p> + “The king?” + </p> + <p> + “My business here is with his Majesty.” + </p> + <p> + Maurice filled the glasses and pushed one across the table. + </p> + <p> + “Here's!” 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> + “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.” + </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> + “My father was Lord Fitzgerald.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” cried Maurice, “the diplomat, the historian, the millionaire?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But why did you come yourself? You could have sent an agent. That would + have been simple.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “The duke was permitted to secure that.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Her Royal Highness must not be forgotten. My father thought much of her.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “The king, on the twentieth of this month, will be some three millions + short.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You have hit it squarely.” + </p> + <p> + “But Austria, having placed Leopold here, is his sponsor.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What is she like?” Maurice asked, innocently. He saw no reason why he + should confide to the Englishman his own adventure. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you write novels? Your imagination has no bounds.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Why did you ever get into the army?” + </p> + <p> + “You ought to know.” + </p> + <p> + “But it was bread and butter to me.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Powder! You do not believe the duchess mad enough to wage war?” + </p> + <p> + “Trust a woman to do what no one dreams she will.” + </p> + <p> + “But Austria would be about her ears in a minute!” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe. Have you seen this Colonel Beauvais of the royal cuirassiers, the + actual head of the army here?” + </p> + <p> + “A fine soldier,” said the Englishman, heartily. “Rides like a centaur and + wields a saber as if it were a piece of straw.” + </p> + <p> + “I can hold a pretty good blade myself; I've an idea that I can lick him + at both games.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “What makes you think I can not lick him?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + They shook hands across the table. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” said Fitzgerald; “a toast, for I must be off.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you say to her Royal Highness?” + </p> + <p> + “Let us make it general: to all women!” + </p> + <p> + They set down the glasses and shook hands again. + </p> + <p> + “It seemed good to run across you in Vienna, Maurice. You were one of the + bright spots in the old days.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I'll go alone. All I have to do is to march straight up the Strasse.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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—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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Herr Carewe?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. What's wanted?” + </p> + <p> + “Herr Hamilton—” + </p> + <p> + “Hamilton? O, yes. Go on.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “This is the hotel, Herr,” 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> + “My friend, Herr Hamilton, has met with an accident. Where is his room?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “This is it, Herr,” he bawled, so loudly that Maurice started. + </p> + <p> + “There was no need of waking the dead to tell me,” he growled. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “It is a banquet, young man. We were waiting for the guest of honor.” + </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> + “I do not see my friend who sprained his ankle,” he said coolly. + </p> + <p> + This declaration was greeted with laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Evidently I have entered the wrong room,” he continued imperturbably. He + stepped toward the door, but a burly individual placed his back to it. + </p> + <p> + “Am I a prisoner, or the victim of a practical joke?” + </p> + <p> + “Either way,” said the man with the frosty mustache. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “You have recently formed a dangerous acquaintance, and we desire to aid + you in breaking it.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Everybody laughed again—everybody but Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Maurice saw a brace of revolvers on the mantel. The table stood between. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, banteringly, “bring on your banquet; the hour is late.” + </p> + <p> + “That's the way; don't lose your temper, and no harm will come to you.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you wish of me?” + </p> + <p> + “Merely the pleasure of your company. Lieutenant, bring out the treasure.” + </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> + “How will you have the pheasant served?” asked the leader. + </p> + <p> + “Like a gentleman!” cried Maurice, letting out a little of his anger. + “Take out the gag; he will not cry.” + </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> + “Proceed to kill me and have done,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Kill you? No, no!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Maurice gazed at the candles on the table, and smiled. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry they dragged you into it, Maurice,” said Fitzgerald. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “The other side of the frontier.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe,” 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> + “The door! the door!” a voice bawled. “Knock down any one who attempts to + pass.” + </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> + “The devil!” he said. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Seize him, your Excellency!” shouted one of the troopers. “Those are my + revolvers he has, and they are not loaded.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You wouldn't be so polite, Colonel,” spoke up the trooper whose arm was + in the sling, “if you had got this crack.” + </p> + <p> + “Baron, who told you to call me Colonel?” the leader demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Why, we are out of the city; there's no harm now that I can see.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it possible,” said Maurice ironically, “that I have had the honor of + hitting a baron on the head and breaking his arm?” + </p> + <p> + The baron muttered a curse and fell back. + </p> + <p> + “And you,” went on Maurice, addressing the leader, “are a Colonel?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “For the duchess?” + </p> + <p> + “For the duchess.” + </p> + <p> + “A black business for you, Colonel; take my word for it.” + </p> + <p> + “A black business it is; but orders are orders. Have you ever been a + soldier?” + </p> + <p> + “I have.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, there's nothing more to be said.” + </p> + <p> + “America—” Maurice began. + </p> + <p> + “Is several thousand miles away.” + </p> + <p> + “Not if you reckon from Vienna.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “He's not a talkative man.” + </p> + <p> + Fitzgerald looked straight ahead, stern and impassive. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Simple enough. A card of yours was given to me; on it was your name and + address. The rest was easy.” + </p> + <p> + Maurice grew limp in the saddle. + </p> + <p> + “By George! I had forgotten! The woman is at the bottom of it.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Fitzgerald was now attending the conversation. + </p> + <p> + “And who is this woman?” asked Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Maurice indulged in some uncomplimentary remarks, among which was: “I'm an + ass!” + </p> + <p> + “Every man improves on making that discovery; the Darwinian theory is + wrong.” + </p> + <p> + After a pause Maurice said: “How did you get on the ground so quickly?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I made no promise,” said Maurice. “I only said that I should easily be + found when wanted.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, so you were; there's no gainsaying that.” + </p> + <p> + Maurice said some more uncomplimentary things. + </p> + <p> + “It was neatly done, you will admit. Life is a game of cards; he wins who + plays first.” + </p> + <p> + “Or he doesn't. Colonel, a game is won only when it is played'.” + </p> + <p> + “That's true enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Kings are a tolerable bother on earth,” Maurice declared, trying to ease + his wrists by holding them higher against his back. + </p> + <p> + “What do you know about them?” + </p> + <p> + “When I was in the army I often fell in with three or four of a night.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh?—kings?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but usually I was up against aces or straight flushes.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you any titles?” Maurice asked presently. + </p> + <p> + “Titles?” The Colonel jerked around on his horse. “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “O,” said Maurice carelessly, “I thought it not unlikely that you might + have a few lying around loose.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “What! brother of Mollendorf of the king's police?” + </p> + <p> + “God save the mark! No; I am an honest man—some of the time.” + </p> + <p> + Maurice laughed; the old fellow was amusing, and besides, this + conversation helped to pass away the time. + </p> + <p> + “Wake up, Jack; here's entertainment,” he said. + </p> + <p> + A scowl added itself to the stern expression on Fitzgerald's face. + </p> + <p> + “I trust that none of your teeth are loose,” ventured the Colonel. + </p> + <p> + “If they are, they'll be tight enough ere many days have passed,” was the + threatening reply. + </p> + <p> + “Beware the dog!” 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. “Have you + anything of importance about you?” he whispered significantly. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing. But God send that no chambermaid change the sheet in my bed at + the hotel.” + </p> + <p> + “Are they—” + </p> + <p> + “Silence.” Fitzgerald saw the trooper next with his hand to his ear. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You are welcome to my cloak,” said the trooper, disengaging that article + from his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Maurice, somewhat abashed by the respectful tone. + </p> + <p> + The trooper offered his blanket to Fitzgerald. + </p> + <p> + “I wish no favors,” 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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </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> + “It wouldn't have hurt you to accept the blanket,” said Maurice to + Fitzgerald. + </p> + <p> + “Curse it! I want nothing but two minutes freedom. It would be warm enough + then.” + </p> + <p> + “No confidences, gentlemen,” warned the Colonel; “I understand English + tolerably well.” + </p> + <p> + “Go to the devil, then, if you do!” said Fitzgerald discourteously. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not used to words,” replied the Englishman. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Sergeant,” he said, “how far behind the others?” + </p> + <p> + “They passed two hours ago, Excellency. And all is well?” deferentially. + </p> + <p> + “All is indeed well,” with a gesture toward the prisoners. + </p> + <p> + “I've a flask of brandy in my hip pocket,” said Maurice. “Will you help me + to a nip, Colonel?” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, gentlemen; I had forgotten that your hands were still in + cords. Corporal,” to a trooper, “relieve their hands.” + </p> + <p> + The prisoners rubbed their wrists and hands, which were numb and cold. + Maurice produced his flask. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Drink away, my son,” said the Colonel, climbing into the saddle; + “there'll be plenty for me for this night's work. Forward!” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “So far as I'm concerned,” said Maurice, who needed liberty not half so + much as sleep, “I pass my word.” + </p> + <p> + “And you, sir?” to Fitzgerald. + </p> + <p> + Fitzgerald gazed about him. “Very well,” he said, as he saw the futility + of a struggle. + </p> + <p> + “Your humble servant, Messieurs,” touching his cap. “Take the ropes off + their ankles, men.” + </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> + “My legs have gone to sleep!” + </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> + “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. + </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> + “Here's luck!” he cried. “We were expected.” + </p> + <p> + “Curse it, Maurice!” Fitzgerald began pacing the room. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “But what's to be done?” + </p> + <p> + “Follow Solomon's advice, and wait.” + </p> + <p> + “You're taking it cursed cool.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But the king!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Is this the way you fight Indians?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Fitzgerald sat down and gulped his coffee. “They broke my monocle in the + struggle.” + </p> + <p> + Maurice choked in his cup. + </p> + <p> + “I've worn it twelve years, too,” went on Fitzgerald. + </p> + <p> + “Everything is for the best,” said Maurice. “You will be able to see out + of both eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “Confound you!” cried Fitzgerald, smiling in spite of himself; “nothing + will disturb you.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </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> + “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. + </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> + “Good morning, gentlemen,” she said, in a voice which Maurice would have + known anywhere. “I hope the journey has caused you no particular + annoyance.” + </p> + <p> + “The annoyance was not so particular, Madame,” said Fitzgerald stiffly, + “as it was general.” + </p> + <p> + “And four of my troopers will take oath to that!” interjected the Colonel. + </p> + <p> + “Will Madame permit me to ask when will the opera begin?” asked Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad,” said she, “that you have lost none of your freshness.” + </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—into hers. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “For your sake, I regret to say that I am.” + </p> + <p> + “For my sake? Worry yourself none on that point. As the agent of her + Highness I am inconsiderable.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” said Maurice, “will you do us the honor to inform us to whom we + are indebted for this partiality to our distinguished persons?” + </p> + <p> + “I am Sylvia Amerbach,” quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Amerbach?” said Maurice, who was familiar with the great names of the + continent. “Pardon me, but that was once a famous name in Prussia.” + </p> + <p> + “I am distantly related to that house of princes,” looking at her + gauntlets. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Madame, since your business doubtless concerns me, pray, begin;” + 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> + “Count,” said the distant relative of the house of Amerbach, “how shall I + begin?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Fie, count!” she cried, laughing; “one would say that was a prelude to + robbery.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The whistle from the window still rose and fell. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, I have it in my power to make you rich.” + </p> + <p> + “I am rich,” replied Fitzgerald. + </p> + <p> + “In honors?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Your father nourished a particular rancor against the late duke.” + </p> + <p> + “And justly, you will admit.” + </p> + <p> + “Her Highness has offered you five millions for slips of paper worth no + more than the ink which decorates them.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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 + “perhaps.” + </p> + <p> + “The rightful successor to the throne—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The whistle grew shrill. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Monsieur,” she said, coldly, “have you no other tune in your repertory?” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me!” exclaimed Maurice. “I did not intend to annoy you.” He + stepped down out of the window. + </p> + <p> + “You do not annoy me; only the tune grows rather monotonous.” + </p> + <p> + “I will whistle anything you may suggest,” 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> + “Count, what do you think would be most satisfactory to her Highness, + under the circumstances?” + </p> + <p> + “I have yet to hear of her Highness' disapproval of anything you + undertake.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The Colonel coughed, Maurice smoothed the back of his head, and Fitzgerald + caught up his monocle. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “That can be easily remedied,” said she. “There are several new hussar + uniforms in the armory.” + </p> + <p> + “O, Madame, and you will permit me to wear one of those gay uniforms of + light blue and silver lace?” + </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> + “And you will wear one, too, Jack?” said Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you. I pass my word, Madame; I do not like confinement.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “It's small matter to me,” said Fitzgerald tranquilly. “The main fact is + that she has given up her game.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Hang me if I can see what difference it makes. She can not do anything + either by frankness or by cunning.” + </p> + <p> + “She gathered us in neatly, this red-haired Amazon.” + </p> + <p> + “Red-haired!” in a kind of protest. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes; that's the color, isn't it?” innocently. + </p> + <p> + “I thought it a red-brown. It's too bad that such a woman should be mixed + up in an affair like this.” + </p> + <p> + “Woman will sacrifice to ambition what she never will sacrifice to love. + Hush; I hear the Colonel returning.” + </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> + “Ah,” he said, with satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “The boots may not fit you,” said the Colonel, “but if they do not we will + manage some way.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Spare me, Colonel,” said Maurice, who did not want any one between him + and the Englishman when they were alone. + </p> + <p> + “I have never had a valet,” said Fitzgerald; “he would embarrass me.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “I say, Fitz, what do you think of it?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Go to! I'll lay odds that our hostess is under twenty-five.” + </p> + <p> + “I meant young women of sixteen or seventeen. Women such as Madame have + long since passed the uniform fever.” + </p> + <p> + “Not when it has lace, my friend, court lace. Well, forward to the dining + hall.” + </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> + “Smile, confound you, smile!” he whispered. “There's never a maid but has + her store of gossip, and gossip is information.” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw!” said Fitzgerald, helping himself to cold ham and chicken. + </p> + <p> + “Wine, Messieurs?” asked the maid. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, then Madame offers the cellars?” said Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Messieurs. There is chambertin, champagne, chablis, tokayer and + sherry.” + </p> + <p> + “Bring us some chambertin, then.” + </p> + <p> + “Oui, Messieurs.” + </p> + <p> + “Hurry along, my Hebe,” 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> + “Keep your eyes open,” grumbled the butler; “he'll be kissing you next.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “No one else shall,” declared Maurice. “When is the duchess to arrive?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know, Monsieur,” stepping in between the chairs and filling the + glasses with the ruby liquid. + </p> + <p> + “Who is Madame Sylvia Amerbach?” + </p> + <p> + “Madame Sylvia Amerbach,” placing the bottle on the table and going to the + sideboard. She returned with a box of “Khedives.” + </p> + <p> + Fitzgerald laughed at Maurice's disconcertion. + </p> + <p> + “Where has Madame gone?” + </p> + <p> + “To the summer home of Countess Herzberg, who is to return with Madame.” + </p> + <p> + “Oho!” cried Maurice, in English. “A countess! What do you say to that, my + Englishman?” + </p> + <p> + “She is probably old and plain. Madame desires a chaperon.” + </p> + <p> + “You forget that Madame desires nothing but those certificates. And the + chaperon does not live who could keep an eye on Madame Sylvia Amerbach.” + </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> + “What was that noise?” he asked, as Maurice shouldered him along the hall. + </p> + <p> + “What noise?” + </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—if surface indications went for aught. + </p> + <p> + Finally the Colonel rose. “A toast—to Madame the duchess, since this + is her very best wine!” + </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> + “That is scarcely polite, Monsieur,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Do so, if it will please you. In truth, it was bad taste in you, count, + to suggest it.” + </p> + <p> + “It's all the same to me;” 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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I was not even looking at you!” declared the countess, blushing. + </p> + <p> + The incident was soon forgotten; and at length Madame and the countess + rose. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “And you will sing?” said Maurice to the countess. + </p> + <p> + “If you wish.” She was almost beautiful when she smiled, and she smiled on + Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “I confess,” said he, “that being a prisoner, under certain circumstances, + is a fine life.” + </p> + <p> + “What wicked eyes he has,” said the countess, as she and Madame entered + the music room. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Madame, that will be easy enough. But what is to prevent me from + falling in love with him? He is very handsome.” + </p> + <p> + “You are laughing!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I am laughing. It will be such an amusing adventure, a souvenir for + my old age—and may my old age forget me.” + </p> + <p> + The men lit their cigars and smoked in silence. + </p> + <p> + “Colonel,” said Maurice at last, “will you kindly tell me what all this + means?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Conscience will not lie down at one's bidding.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall forget nothing,” curtly. + </p> + <p> + “The devil! I can not fight you; I am too old.” + </p> + <p> + Fitzgerald said nothing, and continued to play with his emptied + wine-glass. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Well, to the ladies, gentlemen; it is half after nine.” + </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> + “Do you play chess, Monsieur?” said Madame to Fitzgerald. + </p> + <p> + “I do not.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Colonel, we will play a game and show him how it is done.” + </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> + “Monsieur le Capitaine,” said the countess, “what shall I sing to you?” + </p> + <p> + “To me?” said Maurice. “Something from Abt.” + </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> + “Are you so very far away, then?” The song had ceased; the countess was + looking at him curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” he said; “indeed, you had taken me out of myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you like chestnuts?” she asked suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “I am very fond of them.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I shall fetch some.” It occurred to her that the room was very warm; + she wanted a breath of air—alone. + </p> + <p> + “Checkmate!” cried the Colonel, joyfully. + </p> + <p> + “Do you begin to understand?” asked Madame. + </p> + <p> + “A little,” admitted Fitzgerald, who did not wish to learn too quickly. “I + like to watch the game.” + </p> + <p> + “So do I,” said Maurice, who had approached the table. “I should like to + know what the game is, too.” + </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> + “Checkmate in three moves, Madame!” exclaimed the Colonel; “it is + wonderful.” + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter, Maurice?” asked Fitzgerald. + </p> + <p> + “Jack, I am a ruined man.” + </p> + <p> + “How? What?” nearly upsetting the board. + </p> + <p> + “I just this moment remember that I left my gas burning at the hotel, and + it is extra.” + </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> + “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. + </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, “Something terrible would + happen.” 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—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> + “George! I wish I had a pipe,” said Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “What's your hurry? We're having a good time.” + </p> + <p> + “That's the trouble. Hang the duchess!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what she possesses; but I do know that I'd give a deal to be + out of this.” + </p> + <p> + “Is the chambermaid idea bothering you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Maurice, it is not the chambermaid. I feel oppressed by something + which I can not define.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe you are not used to tokay forty years old?” + </p> + <p> + “Wine has nothing to do with it.” + </p> + <p> + He was so serious that Maurice dropped his jesting tone. “By the way,” he + said, “do you sleep soundly?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Every night I am awakened by the noise of a horse entering the + court-yard.” + </p> + <p> + “So am I. Moreover, Madame seems to be troubled with the same + sleeplessness. + </p> + <p> + “Madame?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Good morning,” said Madame, smiling as they came up. “And how have you + slept?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing wakes me but the roll of the drum or thunder,” answered + Fitzgerald diffidently. + </p> + <p> + “I dream of horses,” said Maurice carelessly. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I do not see the Colonel,” said Maurice; for night and day the old + soldier had been with them. + </p> + <p> + “He has gone to Brunnstadt,” said Madame, “but will return this evening.” + </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> + “So the Colonel has gone to Brunnstadt?” said Maurice; which was a long + way of asking why the Colonel had gone to Brunnstadt. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Madame; “he has gone to consult Madame the duchess to see what + shall be done to you, Monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “To be done to me?” ignoring the challenge in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. You must not forget that you promised me your sword, and I have + taken the liberty of presenting it to her Highness.” + </p> + <p> + “I remember nothing about promising my sword,” said Maurice, gazing + ceiling-ward. + </p> + <p> + “What! There was a mental reservation?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Still, the uniform fits you exceedingly well. The hussars hold a high + place at court.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The forecast of a storm lay in Madame's gray eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Eh? You wish to placate me, Madame?” thought Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “He is right, Madame,” interposed the countess. “But away with politics! + It spoils all it touches.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Madame.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame the duchess,” said Maurice dryly, “has a stanch advocate in you, + Madame.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not unnatural.” + </p> + <p> + “Be that as it may,” said Fitzgerald, “she is mine enemy.” + </p> + <p> + “Love your enemies, says the Book,” was the interposition of the countess, + who stole a sly glance at Maurice which he did not see. + </p> + <p> + “That would not be difficult—in some cases,” replied the Englishman. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “A gilded cage is no less a cage.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Pretty bird! pretty bird!” said Maurice, in a piping voice, “will it have + some caraway?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + Madame trifled with the toast crumbs. Fitzgerald's profound dissimulation + caused a smile to cross Maurice's lips. + </p> + <p> + “Come, countess,” said Maurice, gaily; “we'll take the ride together, + since Madame has to write and my lord to read.” + </p> + <p> + “Five minutes until I dress,” replied the countess, and she sped away. + </p> + <p> + “What a beautiful girl!” said Madame, fondly. “Poor dear! Her life has not + been a bed of roses.” + </p> + <p> + “No?” said Maurice, while Fitzgerald raised his eyebrows inquiringly. + </p> + <p> + “No. She was formerly a maid of honor to her Highness. She made an unhappy + marriage.” + </p> + <p> + “And where is the count?” asked Fitzgerald in surprise. He shot a glance + of dismay at Maurice, who, translating it, smiled. + </p> + <p> + “He is dead.” + </p> + <p> + Fitzgerald looked relieved. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “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.” + </pre> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “It does not take me long to dress—on occasions.” + </p> + <p> + “A compliment to me?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “If you will accept it.” + </p> + <p> + It was an exhilarating morning, full of forest perfumes. Through the haze + the mountains glittered like huge emeralds and amethysts. + </p> + <p> + “What a day!” said the countess, as they galloped away. + </p> + <p> + “Aye, for plots and war and love!” + </p> + <p> + “For plots and war?” demurely. Her cheeks were rosy and her hair as yellow + as the silk of corn. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, for love.” He shortened his rein. “A propos, have you ever + been in love, countess?” + </p> + <p> + “I? What a question!” + </p> + <p> + “Have you?” + </p> + <p> + “N—no! Let us talk of plots and war,” gazing across the valley. + </p> + <p> + “No; let us talk of love. I am in love, and one afflicted that way wishes + a confidant. I appoint you mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Some rosy-cheeked peasant girl?” laughing. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “Operatic? To be sure! Mademoiselle Lenormand of the Royal Vienna is in + Bleiberg. How she keeps her age!” + </p> + <p> + It was Maurice's turn to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “And that is why you came to Bleiberg! Ah, these opera singers, had I my + way, they should all be aged and homely.” + </p> + <p> + “Countess, you are pulling the bit too hard,” said he. “I noticed + yesterday that your horse has a very tender mouth.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you.” She slacked the rein. “He was going too close to the ditch. + You were saying—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + This time she looked up quickly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “A discovery, Monsieur? What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Let us hurry and reach the fork in the road; my curiosity is stifling + me.” + </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> + “Now, Monsieur; please!” + </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> + “Why, what is this, Monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Here, Monsieur.” The hand was extended, but the face was averted. + </p> + <p> + “Countess, you are too charming a woman to lend yourself to such schemes.” + </p> + <p> + There was no reply. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + Silence. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I can believe that.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </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> + “Ah, the `pantry maid,'” he thought. “Good day, Fadette.” + </p> + <p> + “Does Monsieur wish for something?” + </p> + <p> + “A glass of water. Thanks!” + </p> + <p> + She retreated and kept her eyes lowered. + </p> + <p> + “Fadette, you are charming. Has any one ever told you that?” + </p> + <p> + “O, Monsieur!” blushing. + </p> + <p> + “Have they?” lessening the distance between them. + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes,” 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> + “What's the matter with the girl?” he muttered aloud. “I wanted to ask her + some questions.” + </p> + <p> + “Ask them of me, Monsieur,” 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> + “Monsieur, is this the way you return my kindness?” + </p> + <p> + “Permit me to apologize. As to your kindness, I have just discovered that + it is of a most dangerous quality.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean that I could not kiss Madame the countess with the same sense of + security as I could the—pantry maid,” bowing. + </p> + <p> + Just now Madame's face expressed a good deal. “Of what are you talking?” + advancing a step. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You have dared—?” her lips pressed and her eyes thunderous. + </p> + <p> + “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— + </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> + “Come,” thought Maurice, “it is time I made a play.” + </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> + “What a beautiful world it is!” said a low, soft voice close to his ear. + </p> + <p> + Maurice resumed his berry picking. + </p> + <p> + “What exquisite tints in the skies!” went on the voice; “what matchless + color in the forests!” + </p> + <p> + Maurice plucked a berry, ate it, and smacked his lips. It was a good + berry. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “That,” said he, “sounds like a threat.” + </p> + <p> + “And if it were, Monsieur, and if it were?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And why, I ask, have I not suppressed you before this?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, attend to me; the berries can wait.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame, the life of a good blackberry is short.” + </p> + <p> + “To begin with, you say that I did not show you consideration. Few princes + have been shown like consideration.” + </p> + <p> + “I was wrong. It is not every man that has a countess—and a pretty + one, too!—thrown at his head.” + </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> + “Monsieur,” she said, “do you lack wealth?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I lack it; but that is not to say that I desire it.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it is honors you desire?” + </p> + <p> + “Honors? To what greater honor may I aspire than that which is written in + my passports?” + </p> + <p> + “What is written in your passports?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “I am listening, Madame.” + </p> + <p> + “I permit you to witness the comic opera, but I shall allow no prompting + from outsiders.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame, do you expect me to sit calmly by and see my friend made a fool?” + He spoke warmly and his eyes remained steadfast. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly that is what you shall do,” coldly. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Conscience? Royalty knows none.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Madame, wait till you are royal.” + </p> + <p> + “Take care. You have not felt my anger.” + </p> + <p> + “I would rather that than your love.” + </p> + <p> + She marveled at her patience. + </p> + <p> + “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> + “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> + “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.” + </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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Madame, if you love him—” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” proudly. + </p> + <p> + “No, I am wrong. If you loved him you would prize above all else this + honor of which you intend to rob him.” + </p> + <p> + “I brought you here not to discuss whether I am right or wrong. Look about + you.” + </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, “Corporal!” + </p> + <p> + There was a noise on the other side of the wall, and presently a head + bobbed up. + </p> + <p> + “Madame?” inquired the head. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Maurice gnawed his lip. “Proceed, Madame.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + The devil gleamed in his eyes. He remained silent. + </p> + <p> + “Well! Well!” impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “I accept the alternative,” with bad grace. “If I made a dash—” + </p> + <p> + “You would be shot; those were my orders.” + </p> + <p> + “And if I went to prison—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I dare say she won't,” 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: “For pity's + sake, Madame, cease those dirges! Play something lively; I am sad.” + </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> + “Lights!” 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—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? + </p> + <p> + She was speaking to him. “Monsieur, will you walk with me in the park? I + am faint.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Not even if I break my word?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “It would do no good.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Has she any regard for him?” + </p> + <p> + “Sentiment?—love?” She uttered a short, incredulous laugh. “Madame + has brain, not heart. Could a woman with a heart plan as she plans?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, let us not talk of plots and plans; let us talk of—” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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—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—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—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> + “Of what are you thinking, Monsieur?” she asked, in a soft key. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Not even forgiveness?” The lids of the gray eyes drooped and the music + ceased. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Still, whatever I do or have done is merely in accordance with her + Highness's wishes.” + </p> + <p> + He moved uneasily. “It is her will, not yours.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Madame, shall I tell you a secret?” + </p> + <p> + “A secret? Tell me,” sitting in the chair next to his. + </p> + <p> + “This has been the pleasantest week I have known in thirteen years.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you forgive me!” Madame was not only mistress of music but of tones. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </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> + “Ah, Monsieur, you do wrong to forgive me!” impulsively. + </p> + <p> + He smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Why should you be friendly to me when I represent all that is + antagonistic to you?” + </p> + <p> + “To me you represent only a beautiful woman.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah; you have been taking lessons of your friend.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” a flicker in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + Fitzgerald was silent; he dared not venture another lie. + </p> + <p> + “What! you are silent? Is there, after all, a woman somewhere in your + life?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me about her.” + </p> + <p> + “My vocabulary is too limited. You would laugh at me.” + </p> + <p> + “I? No; love is sacred.” She had boasted to Maurice that she was without + conscience; she had only smothered it. “Come; is she beautiful?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” These questions disturbed him. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly she must be worthy or you would not love her. She is rich?” + </p> + <p> + “That does not matter; I am.” He was wishing that Maurice would hurry + back; the desire to fly was returning. + </p> + <p> + “And she rejected you and sent you to the army?” + </p> + <p> + “She has not rejected me, though I dare say she would, had I the + presumption to ask her.” + </p> + <p> + “A faint heart, they say—” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” she said, “is it possible that you have succumbed to the + charms of Madame the countess?” + </p> + <p> + He laughed. “One may admire exquisite bric-a-brac without loving it.” + </p> + <p> + “Bric-a-brac! Poor Elsa!” and Madame laughed. “If it were the countess I + could aid you.” + </p> + <p> + “Love is not merchandise, to traffic with.” + </p> + <p> + Madame's cheeks grew warm. Sometimes the trick of fence is beaten down by + a tyro's stroke. + </p> + <p> + “Eh, bien, since it is not the countess—” + </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> + “Madame, in God's name, do not play with me!” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, you forget yourself,” for the moment forgetting her part. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Before she could withdraw her hands from the top of the chair he had + seized them. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, release me.” She struggled futilely. + </p> + <p> + “I love you.” He began to draw her from behind the chair. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, Monsieur!” she, cried, genuinely alarmed; “do not forget that + you are a gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not a gentleman now; I am a man who loves.” + </p> + <p> + Madame was now aware that what she had aroused could not be subdued by + angry words. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, what must I do?” leaning across the chair. + </p> + <p> + “You must have patience. A woman must be wooed her own way, or not at all. + What a whirlwind you are!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + Madame had fully recovered her composure. She saw her way to the end. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “My love does not reason, Madame.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Love that demands conditions? I have asked none.” + </p> + <p> + Madame blushed. “A man offers love; a woman confers it.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is this narrow road called which leads to your affections? Is + your heart a citadel?” + </p> + <p> + “It is called sacrifice. Those who dwell in my heart, which you call a + citadel, enter by that road.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </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> + “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. + </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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” he said gently, “do you love me?” + </p> + <p> + No answer. + </p> + <p> + “Madame, for God's sake, do not weep! Do you love me? If you love me—if + you love me—” + </p> + <p> + She sprang to her feet. Once again she experienced that shiver; again her + conscience stirred. + </p> + <p> + “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? + </p> + <p> + “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> + “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> + “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. + </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—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. + </p> + <p> + “Madame, will you be my wife?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + He covered them with kisses. + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” 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> + “Madame,” Maurice whispered to the countess, “I have lost all faith in + you; you have kept me too long under the stars.” + </p> + <p> + “Confidences?” said Madame, with a swift inquiring glance at the countess. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but how the deuce—your pardon, ladies!—did you find that + out?” demanded the Colonel. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Fitzgerald thrust his pipe into a pocket. “Good night, Madame,” he said + diffidently; “and you, countess.” + </p> + <p> + “Good night, Colonel,” 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> + “You have something on your mind,” said Maurice, pulling off his hussar + jacket and kicking it across the room. + </p> + <p> + “Madame has promised to be my wife.” + </p> + <p> + “And the conditions?” curtly. + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “I'd marry her,” sitting down at the table. + </p> + <p> + “What would you do in my place, and Madame had promised to marry you?” + puffing quickly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I love her,” sullenly. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know who she is?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Would it make any difference?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Who is she?” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “Maurice, tell me nothing which will cause me to regret your friendship. I + love her; she has promised to be my wife.” + </p> + <p> + “She will ruin you.” + </p> + <p> + “She has already done that,” laconically. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to tell me—” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “And the poor paralytic king?” + </p> + <p> + “What is he to me?” + </p> + <p> + “And your father?” + </p> + <p> + “What are my dead father's wishes? Maurice, I am mad!” + </p> + <p> + “You are a very sick man,” Maurice replied crossly. “What's to become of + all these vows—” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Who?—Madame de Longueville? I thought she was dead these two + hundred years!” + </p> + <p> + “Damn it, Maurice!” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + The door opened unceremoniously and in walked the Colonel. + </p> + <p> + “Your voices are rather high, gentlemen,” 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> + “I could not resist the desire to have a friendly chat with you.” + </p> + <p> + “You have come cursed inopportune,” snarled Maurice. “What do you want?” + </p> + <p> + “I want to give you the countersigns, so that when you start for Bleiberg + to-morrow morning you'll have no trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “Bleiberg!” exclaimed Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Fitzgerald sent him a scowl. “You are damned impertinent, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Their glances fenced. The Colonel rubbed his mustache. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “The same to you,” rejoined Maurice, “only worse.” + </p> + <p> + The Colonel's departure was followed by a period of temporary + speechlessness. Maurice smoked several “Khedives,” while Fitzgerald + emptied two or three pipe-bowls. + </p> + <p> + “You seem to be in bad odor, Maurice,” the latter ventured. + </p> + <p> + “In more ways than one. Where, in heaven's name, did you resurrect that + pipe?” + </p> + <p> + “In the stables. It isn't the pipe, it's the tobacco. I had to break up + some cigars.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </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> + “Your bride-elect,” he said, “seems somewhat over-hasty. Well, I'm off to + bed.” + </p> + <p> + “Maurice, can you blame me?” + </p> + <p> + “No, John; whom the gods destroy they first make mad. You will come to + your senses when it is too late.” + </p> + <p> + “For God's sake, Maurice, who is she?” + </p> + <p> + “What will you do if she breaks her promise?” adroitly evading the + question. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “That's comfort;” 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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I trust Madame will find it droll.” + </p> + <p> + “And you?” + </p> + <p> + “And I, Madame?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; did you not bring the clown to your feet?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Madame.” + </p> + <p> + “How? You did not have the joy denied me—of laughing in his face?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Madame.” With each answer the voice grew lower. + </p> + <p> + “Since when have I been Madame to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Since to-day.” + </p> + <p> + Madame reached out a hand and pressed down the screen. “Elsa, what is it?” + </p> + <p> + “What is what, Madame?” + </p> + <p> + “This strange mood of yours.” + </p> + <p> + Silence. + </p> + <p> + “You were gay enough this morning. Tell me.” + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing to tell, Madame, save that my sacrifices are at an end. + I have nothing left.” + </p> + <p> + “What! You forsake me when the end is won?” in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “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! + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Elsa, are you mad?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “You understand, Maurice?” Fitzgerald asked. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “En avant!” cried the Colonel. “A fine day, a fine day for the house of + Auersperg!” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “There are exceptions; Madame seems to hold the strings in this instance.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame follows my advice in all she does.” + </p> + <p> + Maurice opened his eyes at this statement. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “She will ruin him utterly?” + </p> + <p> + “Utterly.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you any idea what sort of man my friend is?” + </p> + <p> + “He lacks the polish of a man of affairs, and he surrenders too easily.” + </p> + <p> + “He will never surrender—Madame.” + </p> + <p> + “How?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you imply—an abduction?” The Colonel laughed. + </p> + <p> + “That is my secret.” + </p> + <p> + “And the pretty countess?” banteringly. + </p> + <p> + “It was rather bad taste in Madame. It was putting love and patriotism to + questionable purposes. I am a gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “How should I know where they were? It was none of my affair.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Go; return as quickly as possible.” + </p> + <p> + “Never fear; I should not like to miss the finale to this opera bouffe.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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—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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The proprietor showed signs of returning memory, together with a strange + agitation. + </p> + <p> + “There was a slight disturbance,” went on Maurice, still using the affable + tone. “Herr—ah—Hamilton, I believe—” + </p> + <p> + The proprietor grew limp and yellow. “I—I do not know where he is.” + </p> + <p> + “I do,” replied Maurice. “Don't you recognize me? Have I changed so since + I came here to doctor a sprained ankle?” + </p> + <p> + “You?—Before God, Herr, I was helpless; I had nothing to do with + it!” terrified at the peculiar smile of the victim. + </p> + <p> + “The key to this gentleman's room,” was the demand. + </p> + <p> + “I—” + </p> + <p> + “The key, and be quick about it.” + </p> + <p> + The key came forth. “You will say nothing, Herr; it would ruin my + business. It was a police affair.” + </p> + <p> + “Has any one been in this room since?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Herr; the key has been in my pocket.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is the porter who brought me here?” + </p> + <p> + “He was not a porter; he was with the police.” + </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—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> + “You lied to me when you said that no one had entered that room,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </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 “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + The sleeper stirred. “Rich,” he murmured; “rich, rich! I'm rich! A hundred + thousand crowns!” + </p> + <p> + “My friend, I'm not in the position to dispute with you on that subject,” + said Maurice, smiling. He rapped the stein again. + </p> + <p> + The sleeper raised his head and stared stupidly, + </p> + <p> + “Rich, aye, rich!” He was still in half a dream. “Rich, I say!” + </p> + <p> + “Hang it, I'm not arguing on that,” 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> + “Who the devil are you?” he asked, thickly. + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “Who are you and what are you talking about? I don't know you.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “What's the trouble, Kopf?” demanded the newcomers. + </p> + <p> + “This fellow accuses me of being a spy and threatens to break my head.” + </p> + <p> + “O! break your head, is it? Let us see. Come, brothers; out with this + fellow.” + </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. “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.” + </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> + “Brothers,” he said, huskily, “he will not dare.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “What do you want?” asked Johann, savagely. + </p> + <p> + “First. What is your place in this affair?” + </p> + <p> + “What affair?” + </p> + <p> + “The abduction.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “If I was, do you suppose I'd fool my time on this side of the Thalians?” + Johann shrugged. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “If that's all,” repeated Maurice, “what did you think I wanted to ask + you?” + </p> + <p> + Johann bit his lip. “I'm wanted badly by the chancellor, curse you, if you + must know. I thought he might be behind you.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't worry about that,” said Maurice, to whom this declaration seemed + plausible. “We'll talk as we go along.” + </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> + “I'll take it out of his hide the next time we meet. He wasn't worth the + trouble, anyway.” + </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> + “A fine thing to be born in purple—sometimes,” he mused. “I never + knew till now the inconveniences of the common mold.” + </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> + “You curs!” said Maurice, panting. “Shame on you! and an old dog that + can't defend himself! You knew he had no teeth.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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—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> + “Eh?” closely scanning Maurice's white face. “Well, well! is it you, + Monsieur Carewe?” + </p> + <p> + “Lieutenant von Mitter?” cried Maurice, dropping the dog, who by now had + grasped the meaning of it all. “You came just in time!” + </p> + <p> + They shook hands. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And how did the dog come in this part of the town?” asked Maurice, + picking up his hat. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Maurice blushed. “Say nothing of my part in the fracas. It was nothing at + all.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “Won't you let me go?” asked Maurice. “Look at my clothes.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “Ye gods, listen to that! One would think by the tone of your voice that + you wished they did!” + </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> + “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! + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Her Royal Highness desires to thank Monsieur Carewe, and commands that he + be brought to her carriage.” + </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> + “Monsieur,” said the Voice, “I thank you with all my heart for your + gallant service. Poor, poor dog!” + </p> + <p> + “It was nothing, your Highness; any man would have done the same thing.” + The red in the wheel-spokes bothered his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “No, no! you must not belittle it.” + </p> + <p> + “If it had not been for Lieutenant von Mitter—” + </p> + <p> + “Whither were you going, Monsieur?” interrupted the Voice. + </p> + <p> + “Nowhere; that is, I was going toward my hotel.” + </p> + <p> + “The Continental?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, your Highness.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I—I to ride with your Highness?” he stammered. “O, no! I—that + is—it would scarcely be—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The Presence replied to this remarkable defense with laughter, laughter in + which Maurice detected an undercurrent of bitterness. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “If your Highness commands—” + </p> + <p> + “I do command it,” imperiously. “And you would have pleased me more fully + if you had accepted the invitation and not obeyed the command.” + </p> + <p> + “I withdraw all objections,” he said hastily, “and accept the invitation.” + </p> + <p> + “That is better,” the Voice said. + </p> + <p> + Maurice, still uncovered, sat down on the front seat. + </p> + <p> + “Not there, Monsieur; beside me. Etiquette does not permit you to ride in + front of me.” + </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> + “And you recognize me?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Have you forgotten what you said to me?” + </p> + <p> + “I dare say I was impertinent,” vaguely. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you have forgotten, then!” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I confess I am,” he said. “I can not remember all I said to you.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </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> + “And you did it all alone,” she said, softly; “all alone.” + </p> + <p> + “O, I had the advantage; I was not expected. It was all over before they + knew what had happened.” + </p> + <p> + “And you had the courage to take a poor dog's part? Did you know whose dog + it was?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, your Highness, I recognized him.” + </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> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </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> + “God save your Royal Highness,” said Maurice, at loss for other words. He + released her hand and stepped back. + </p> + <p> + “Until this evening, then, Monsieur;” and the royal barouche rolled away. + </p> + <p> + “Who loves me, loves my dog,” 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> + “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! + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Stuler pounced on the coin and rubbed it between his palms. “Gold, Johann, + gold?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, gold; and the last of a pocketful, curse it! What's this noise + about?” with a gesture, toward the hall. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Who?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Go in,” said Stuler, “and look at some of those heads; a look will answer + the purpose.” + </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> + “Where have you been keeping yourself the past week?” he asked. If the + students were his purse, Johann was his budget of news. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Stuler smiled indulgently; Johann was beginning to feel the wine. Perhaps + he was to learn something. “Yes, 'twill be a glorious day.” + </p> + <p> + “A week hence, and the king goes forth a bankrupt.” + </p> + <p> + “If he lives,” judiciously. + </p> + <p> + “Dead or alive, it matters not which; he goes.” + </p> + <p> + “And the wedding? What is it I hear about Prince Frederick and the peasant + girl?” + </p> + <p> + Johann laughed. “There will be no wedding.” + </p> + <p> + “And the princess?” + </p> + <p> + “A pretty morsel, a tidbit for the king that is to be.” + </p> + <p> + “The king that—eh, Johann, are you getting drunk so soon?” Stuler + exclaimed. “I know of no king—” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “Gott in—” + </p> + <p> + “Do you understand?” fiercely. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes!” Stuler wiped his face with his apron. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And the duchess?” 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. “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said Stuler, uneasily. + </p> + <p> + “I need you.” Johann finished his glass with moderate slowness. “Your + storehouse on the lake is empty?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “A nasty business,” was Stuler's comment. “You have women to thank for + your present occupation, Johann.” + </p> + <p> + “Stuler, you are a fool. It is not a woman; it is a crown.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” Stuler's eyes bulged. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And this king?” in a whisper. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But the sacking of the town?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Beauvais.” + </p> + <p> + “Beauvais!” Stuler half rose from his chair, but sank again. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “The devil! I thought Austria was very favorable to the Osian house.” + </p> + <p> + “Favorable or not, it is nothing to us.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, it's a thousand crowns,” philosophically. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “The storehouse is yours, and the men. Now tell me how 'tis to be played.” + </p> + <p> + “Where does her Royal Highness go each Thursday evening, accompanied by + her eternal cuirassiers, von Mitter and Scharfenstein?” + </p> + <p> + “Where but to see her old nurse Elizabeth? But two men will not be enough. + Von Mitter and Scharfenstein—” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “After all, I'd rather the duchess.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </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> + “Stuler, how much will you advance me,” he asked, “on a shotgun worth one + hundred crowns?” + </p> + <p> + “A shotgun worth one hundred crowns? Ten.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “If you want wine—” began Stuler. + </p> + <p> + “I want money.” + </p> + <p> + Stuler scratched his nose. “Bring the gun to me. If it is worth what you + say, I'll see what I can do.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </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 “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! + </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> + “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!” + </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—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> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Carewe?” the Englishman repeated thoughtfully. “Are you not Maurice + Carewe, of the American Legation in Vienna?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “May I ask you a few questions?” + </p> + <p> + “A thousand.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?'” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + They waited. + </p> + <p> + “Marshal,” said the minister, “this is Monsieur Carewe, who rescued her + Highness's dog from the students.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The minister turned to Maurice and laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Eh!” said the Marshal. + </p> + <p> + “I prophesied that you would speak disparagingly of the dog.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “With the American Legation.” + </p> + <p> + “Happy is the country,” said the Marshal, “which is so far away that + Europe can find no excuse to meddle with it.” + </p> + <p> + “And even then Europe would not dare,” Maurice replied, with impertinence + aforethought. + </p> + <p> + “That is not a diplomatic speech.” + </p> + <p> + “It is true.” + </p> + <p> + “I like your frankness.” + </p> + <p> + “Let that go toward making amends for saving the dog.” + </p> + <p> + “Are all American diplomats so frank?” inquired the Marshal, with an air + of feigned wonder. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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—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. + </p> + <p> + “I was afraid,” she said, lowering her eyes as she uttered the fib, “that + you would not come after all.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “It is the beast that is envious of the brute.” + </p> + <p> + “And your hand?” with a glance sympathetic and inquiring. + </p> + <p> + “My hand?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; did you not injure it?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very modest. I should have made much of it.” + </p> + <p> + He could not translate this; so he said: “There was nothing injured but my + hat. I seem unfortunate in that direction.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled, recalling the incident in the archbishop's garden. + </p> + <p> + “I shall keep the hat, however,” he said, “as a souvenir.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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 “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! + </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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Colonel Beauvais,” said the princess, coldly, “Monsieur Carewe, of the + American Legation in Vienna.” + </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> + “I am charmed,” said the Colonel, a half-ironical smile under his + mustache. “Your name is not unfamiliar to me.” + </p> + <p> + “No?” said Maurice, with studied politeness. + </p> + <p> + “No. It is connected with an exploit. Was it not you who faced the + students this afternoon and rescued her Highness's dog?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “You may keep it, Monsieur;” 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: “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. + </p> + <p> + The Colonel bent gracefully. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Come, then,” said Beauvais, gaily; and the two made off. “It is a + wonderful game of chess, this world of ours.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Maurice, “we do keep moving.” + </p> + <p> + “And every now and then one or the other of us steps out into the dark.” + </p> + <p> + “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? + </p> + <p> + “Here we are!” 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> + “Francois,” said Beauvais, throwing his shako and pelisse on the lounge + and motioning to Maurice to do likewise, “let no one disturb us.” + </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> + “Maurice Carewe,” said the Colonel, as one who mused. + </p> + <p> + “It is very droll,” said Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “I can not say that it strikes me as droll, though I am not deficient in + the sense of humor.” + </p> + <p> + “'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.” + </p> + <p> + “How came you to be mixed up in this affair, which is no concern of + yours?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You may give me the certificates,” said Beauvais. + </p> + <p> + Maurice contemplated him serenely. “Impossible,” with a fillip at the end + of his cigar. + </p> + <p> + “You refuse?” coldly. + </p> + <p> + “I do not refuse. Simply, I haven't got them.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” 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> + “No. Some one has forestalled me.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you lying to me?” menacingly. + </p> + <p> + “And if I were?” coolly. + </p> + <p> + Beauvais measured his antagonist, his eyes hard and contemptuous. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “I'll see it to its end.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Even villainy has its inconveniences,” Maurice observed. + </p> + <p> + “What do you call villainy?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + An almost imperceptible smile passed over Beauvais's countenance. “So her + Highness has captured your sympathies?” with a shade of banter. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + The Colonel studied the end of his cigar. “What is to be your stand in + this affair?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, and if I stood in your path?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + And so they fenced. + </p> + <p> + “You picked up a rose to-night,” said the Colonel. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Only this: her Highness intended the rose for me.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, my friend,” easily. “She would not have laughed had you picked it + up.” + </p> + <p> + “That is to say I lie?” + </p> + <p> + “It is,” laconically. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Your stare, Monsieur, is annoying.” + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't wonder,” replied Maurice, leaning against the mantel. + </p> + <p> + “Do me the honor to explain it.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” 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. “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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “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.” + </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> + “So you wish to add another to the list?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “What promise have I,” said Maurice, “that you will not run me through + when I stoop for the sword?” This question did not serve. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “But supposing I should kill you by chance?” + </p> + <p> + Beauvais laughed again. “That is not possible.” + </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—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> + “Ah!” cried Beauvais; “that is good. You know a little. There will be + sport, besides.” + </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> + “Which side is the pretty rose?” seeking to distract Maurice. “Tell me, + and I will pin it to you.” + </p> + <p> + Not a muscle moved in Maurice's face. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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> + “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.” + </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> + “You damned fool!” the Colonel snarled, “you'll never get that chance + again.” + </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—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> + “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. + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Beauvais made a desperate attempt to clutch the blade in his hands. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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. + </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. “Come in, Francois; your master will + have need of you.” + </p> + <p> + Francois complied, vertigo in his limbs. “My God!” he cried, wringing his + hands. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Francois,” cried the Colonel, “if you so much as lay a finger on me, I'll + kill you.” + </p> + <p> + “Francois, I will kill you if you don't,” said Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “My God!” wailed the valet at loss which to obey when to obey either meant + death. His teeth chattered. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” appealingly to Beauvais, “my God, I am forced. He will kill + me!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “By God!—” began Beauvais, struggling to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Mon Dieu! A woman! I might have known!” 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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Ah, Maurice,” he said, “you are growing over fond. But why not? Who will + know? To have loved is something.” + </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> + “It's no use, I can't sleep. I am an old woman.” + </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 “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. + </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> + “Good morning, your Highness. I am very much interested in your court. And + do you hold it every morning?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Do you remember,” she said, “how I used to climb on your knees, ever so + long ago, and listen to your fairy stories?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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> + “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> + “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!” + </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> + “Monsieur,” she said suddenly, “tell me, what has my poor father done that + these people should hate him and desire his ruin?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And—and you, Marshal?” timidly. + </p> + <p> + “And I?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + At this juncture the doves rose hurriedly. The Marshal discovered the + archbishop's valet making toward him. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur the Marshal, Monseigneur breakfasts and requests you to join + him.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Good morning, Marshal,” said the prelate. “Be seated. Did you not + find it chilly in the gardens?” + </p> + <p> + “Not the least. It is a fine day. I have just left her Royal Highness.” + </p> + <p> + The prelate arched his eyebrows, and an interrogation shot out from under + them. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered the observant soldier. “My heart has ever been hers; this + time it is my hand and brain.” + </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> + “I have promised to stand and fall with her.” + </p> + <p> + “Stand and fall? Why not 'or'?” with a long, steadfast gaze. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The archbishop absently stirred his eggs. + </p> + <p> + “God is witness,” said the Marshal, “I have always been honest.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “And neutral.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; honest and neutral.” + </p> + <p> + “But a man, a lonely man like myself, can not always master the impulses + of the heart; and I have surrendered to mine.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “And why distrusted?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I wished only to make him great;” but the prelate lowered his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps not.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + The Marshal glanced instinctively at his shoulder straps, and saw that + they had come very near to oblivion. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What! and Beauvais, too?” exclaimed the Marshal. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Providence always watches over the innocent,” said the prelate, “else we + would have been still at war. Good morning.” + </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> + “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. + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” faltered Mollendorf, “he has played his first card. What are + you going to do?” + </p> + <p> + “Remain at home and wait. And I shall not have long to wait. The end is + near.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Von Wallenstein recalled the warning of the Colonel of the cuirassiers. + “Nevertheless, we are too strong to fear him.” + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur is in correspondence with Austria,” said the minister of + police, quietly. + </p> + <p> + “You said nothing of this before,” was the surprised reply. + </p> + <p> + “It was only this morning that I learned it.” + </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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + * * * * * * + </p> + <p> + The princess still remained on the rustic bench; her head was bowed, but + her tears were dried. + </p> + <p> + “O, Bull,” she whispered, “and you and I shall soon be all alone!” + </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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “The archbishop has dismissed the cabinet... crisis imminent.” + </p> + <p> + “The Austrian minister has recalled his invitations to the embassy ball.” + </p> + <p> + “The archbishop will not be able to form another cabinet.” + </p> + <p> + “Count von Wallenstein...” + </p> + <p> + “Mollendorf and Beauvais, too—” + </p> + <p> + “The king is dying... The archbishop has been given full powers.” + </p> + <p> + “The army will revolt unless Beauvais is recalled.” + </p> + <p> + “And the Marshal says here...” + </p> + <p> + Maurice waited to hear no more, but climbed through the window into the + office. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “A letter for your Excellency.” + </p> + <p> + It was from the American minister in Vienna. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said the clerk. Then in low tones “There has been a curious + exchange in saddles, Monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “Saddles?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said the clerk, with a furtive smile which Maurice lost; “that + accounts for the mystery.” + </p> + <p> + “Here are two letters that must get in to-night's mails,” Maurice said; + “and also this telegram should be sent at once.” + </p> + <p> + “As Monsieur desires. Ah, I came near forgetting. There is a note for + Monsieur, which came this afternoon while Monsieur was asleep.” + </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"> + “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.” + </pre> + <p> + 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. + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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—hope and a + thousand stars, love and a thousand dreams. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </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—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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Don't shoot!” Maurice yelled; “don't shoot!” + </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> + “Close for you, my friend,” he gasped; when he recognized the new arrival. + “Have you—God! my leg that time,” 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> + “Hold him!” cried von Mitter, coming up with a limp, “hold him till I + knock in his head, damn him!” + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” said Maurice, “you can't get information out of a dead man.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “You are killing me!” + </p> + <p> + “Small matter. Who is this fellow?” asked Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Maurice felt the straining cords in the prisoner's neck grow limp. The + rascal had fainted. + </p> + <p> + “Not her Highness?” Maurice asked, the weight of dread lifting from his + heart. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “You'll never get off your boot,” said Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Your face is bleeding!” 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> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Kopf,” said Maurice, “and he has a ball somewhere inside,” holding up a + bloody hand. + </p> + <p> + “Kopf?” 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> + “Any time will do,” he said. “Ah, he opens his eyes.” + </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> + “Who put you up to this?” demanded Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “You are choking me!” + </p> + <p> + “Who, I say?” + </p> + <p> + “Beauvais.” + </p> + <p> + Scharfenstein and von Mitter looked at each other comprehensively. + </p> + <p> + “Who is this Beauvais? Speak!” + </p> + <p> + “I am dying, Herr... Your knees—” + </p> + <p> + Maurice withdrew his knees. “Beauvais; who is he?” + </p> + <p> + “Prince... Walmoden, formerly of the emperor's staff.” + </p> + <p> + Johann's eyes closed again, and his head fell to one side. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Von Mitter assisted the maid into the carriage and seated her. + </p> + <p> + “Go and stay with her,” said Maurice, brusquely; “you're half fainting.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “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. + </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> + “Hurry!” cried Maurice; “I've hit him and we'll find him along the road + somewhere.” + </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> + “Our bread and butter,” said the Captain softly, “are likely to take unto + themselves the proverbial wings and fly away.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The men on either side of him nodded wisely. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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—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. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “A brush on the lake road,” interrupted Sharfenstein, breathlessly. “Help + him over to a chair, Monsieur Carewe. That's it.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you a knife, Captain?” asked Maurice. + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + Maurice knelt and deftly cut away the Lieutenant's boot. A pool of blood + collected on the floor. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Scharfenstein briefly explained. + </p> + <p> + “And Kopf?” + </p> + <p> + “Got away, curse him!” + </p> + <p> + “And the others?” with a lowering brow. + </p> + <p> + “They all got away,” adding an oath under his breath. Max set the basin on + the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Bad, very bad. Why didn't you shoot?” + </p> + <p> + “He was afraid of hitting Mademoiselle Bachelier,” Maurice interposed. + </p> + <p> + Max threw him a grateful look. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” The Captain called his men around him. “Two of you—. But + wait. Who's back of Kopf?” + </p> + <p> + “Our distinguished Colonel,” snapped Max, “who was this day relieved of + his straps. A case of revenge, probably.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “He is Prince Walmoden,” said Maurice, “and for some reason not known, the + emperor has promised to recall him.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure of it,” said Maurice, who leaned over the back of the speaker's + chair. + </p> + <p> + The Captain eyed him inquiringly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “My thanks,” said the Captain, with a jerky nod. “Max, come, give me the + whole story.” + </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> + “Call it revenge,” he said, “if it strikes you in that light. Monsieur + Carewe, what is your opinion?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Which is to say?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I do not call it revenge,” Maurice admitted, unwilling to venture + any theory. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I have always tried to do my duty,” said von Mitter. He felt a small hand + secretly press his. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The Marshal peered at the silent figure beyond the fireplace. Maurice was + compelled to stand forth. “Ah!” said the Marshal. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Monsieur Carewe,” said the Marshal, “seems to have plenty of leisure time + on his hands—fortunately for us. You were not hit?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + The Marshal, having closed the door behind the women, returned to the + group before the fireplace. They watched him interestedly. + </p> + <p> + “Colonel,” he said, “make no effort to seek Beauvais. As for Kopf, that is + different. But Beauvais—” + </p> + <p> + “To let him go?” exclaimed the Colonel in dismay. + </p> + <p> + “Aye, to let him go. We do not seek bears with birdshot, and that is all + we have. He will leave the country.” + </p> + <p> + “And go to the duchy!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But I have sent men after him!” cried the Colonel, in keen + disappointment. + </p> + <p> + “Send men after them to rescind the order.” + </p> + <p> + “And if they should catch him?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Till to-morrow,” said von Mitter, who had taken a fancy to the + smooth-faced young American, who seemed at home in all places. + </p> + <p> + “I am going away to-morrow,” said Maurice, pressing the Lieutenant's hand. + “I shall return in a day or so.” + </p> + <p> + 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? + </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> + “Camille?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “You are hysterical!” said the princess. + </p> + <p> + “No; it is because—because—” 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. “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?” + </p> + <p> + “It is both!” weeping. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “Hush! Gertrude, I am dying.... Brandy! I must talk to you! Silence!” + 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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Rich,” he said dreamily; “rich... and to die like a dog!” + </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> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + The woman shuddered. Her hand and what it held were wet with blood. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “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!” + </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> + “Now leave me!” 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> + “Open!” cried a voice without; “open in the king's name!” + </p> + <p> + She gasped, but words would not come. She clenched her hands until the + nails sank into the flesh. + </p> + <p> + “Open, Madame, or down comes the door.” + </p> + <p> + The actress in her came to the rescue. The calm of despair took possession + of her. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “He is not here,” 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. “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!” + </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—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> + “It is all right, Monsieur Carewe,” said the corporal; “I ought to + recognize the horse a mile away. You will arrive just in time.” + </p> + <p> + “Just in time for what?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Has the duchess arrived at last, then?” was the cynical inquiry. + </p> + <p> + “She will arrive this evening,” answered the corporal, grinning. “A + pleasant journey to you.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “O, it is Monsieur Carewe!” 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> + “The future promises much,” he said, half aloud. “I am really glad that I + came back.” + </p> + <p> + “Halt!” + </p> + <p> + Maurice drew up. A sentry stepped out into the road. + </p> + <p> + “O, it is Monsieur Carewe!” he cried. With a short laugh he disappeared. + </p> + <p> + “Hang me,” grumbled Maurice as he went on, “these fellows have remarkable + memories. I can't recollect any of them.” 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> + “Why, it is Monsieur Carewe!” he cried. “Good! We are coming out to meet + you. This is a pleasure indeed.” + </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> + “I am glad you deem it a pleasure, baron,” he said dryly. “From what you + imply, I should judge that you were expecting me.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Underneath all this Maurice discerned a shade of mockery, and it disturbed + him. + </p> + <p> + “First, I should like to know—” he began. + </p> + <p> + “Later, later!” cried the baron. “The gates are but a dozen rods away. To + your room first; the rest will follow.” + </p> + <p> + “The only clothes I have with me are on my back,” said Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “We shall arrange that. Your guard-hussar uniform has been reserved for + you, at the suggestion of the Colonel.” + </p> + <p> + And Maurice grew more and more disturbed. + </p> + <p> + “Were they courteous to you on the road?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. But—” + </p> + <p> + “Patience! Here we are at the rear gates.” + </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 “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. + </p> + <p> + The troopers dismounted in the courtyard. + </p> + <p> + “I'm a trifle too stiff to dance,” Maurice innocently acknowledged. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Lead on!” 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> + “This is Monsieur Carewe,” said the baron, “who will occupy a corner in + the guardroom.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Monsieur Carewe,” waving his hand cavalierly; “happy to see you + again.” + </p> + <p> + Maurice was growing weary of his name. + </p> + <p> + “Enter,” 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> + “Messieurs,” he said, “this is Monsieur Carewe, who was expected.” + </p> + <p> + “Glad to see you!” 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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </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—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> + “I was seeking you,” she said. The jewels in her hair threw a kind of halo + above her head. + </p> + <p> + “Have I the happiness to be necessary to you?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “You have not been enjoying yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Madame; my conscience is, unhappily, too green.” He turned to the + window again for fear he would lose control of himself. + </p> + <p> + “I have a confession to make to you,” she said humbly. How broad his + shoulders were, was her thought. + </p> + <p> + “It can not concern me,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “How?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “I do not recollect granting you permission to use my given name,” she + said. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “A privilege which seems extended to all.” + </p> + <p> + Madame colored, but there was not light enough for him to perceive it. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I am not Madame simply. I am Stephonia Sylvia Auersperg; the name I + assumed was my mother's.” His lack of surprise alarmed her. + </p> + <p> + “I am well aware of that,” he said. “You are the duchess.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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> + “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. + </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> + “Patience, Monsieur,” she said. “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.” 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.” + </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> + “Well, Monsieur Carewe,” said Madame, coldly, “what have you to say?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Carewe,” said Fitzgerald, endeavoring to speak calmly, “you have broken + your word to me as a gentleman and you have lied to me.” + </p> + <p> + The reply was an expressive monosyllable, “O!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you deny it?” demanded the Englishman. + </p> + <p> + “Deny what?” asked Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + A dull red flooded the prisoner's cheeks. “I do not understand you.” + </p> + <p> + “You lie!” Fitzgerald stepped closer and his hands closed menacingly. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Maurice, “thank you. But why not complete the melodrama + by striking, since you have doubled your fists?” + </p> + <p> + Fitzgerald glared at him. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” interposed the countess, “do not forget that you are a + gentleman; Monsieur Carewe's hands are tied.” + </p> + <p> + “Unfortunately,” observed Maurice. + </p> + <p> + Madame looked curiously at the countess, while Fitzgerald drew back to the + table and rested on it. + </p> + <p> + “I can not comprehend how you dared return,” Madame resumed. “One who + watches over my affairs has informed me of your dishonorable act.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you call a dishonorable act?” Maurice inquired quietly. + </p> + <p> + “One who breaks his sacred promise!” quickly. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </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—a spirit whose origin mystified her—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: + “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.” + </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> + “Pardon me,” he said, with mock politeness, “but my hands are tied, and + the truth is, I am sleepy.” + </p> + <p> + “Count,” said Madame, “release him. He will be too well guarded to fear + his escaping.” + </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> + “So you confess,” said Madame, “that you sold the consols to the + archbishop?” + </p> + <p> + “I, confess?” Maurice screwed up his lips and began to whistle softly: + </p> + <p> + “Voici le sabre de mon Pere.” + </p> + <p> + “You deny, then?” Madame was fast losing patience, a grave mistake when + one is dealing with a banterer. + </p> + <p> + Maurice changed the tune: + </p> + <p> + “J'aime les militaires, Leur uniforme coquet, Leur moustache et leur + plumet—” + </p> + <p> + “Answer!” with a stamp of the foot. + </p> + <p> + “Je sais ce que je voudrais, Je voudrais etre cantiniere!”... + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said the pretty countess, after a furtive glance at Madame's + stormy eyes, “do you deny?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </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> + “Carewe,” he said, “you have deceived me from the start.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! c'est un fameux regiment, Le regiment de la Grande Duchesse!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Sonnez donc la trompette, Et battez les tambours!” + </p> + <p> + And the warbler nodded significantly at Madame, whose frown grew still + darker. + </p> + <p> + “Eh! Monsieur,” cried the Colonel, with a protesting hand, “you are out of + tune!” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to know why you returned here,” said Madame. “Either you + have some plan, or your audacity has no bounds.” + </p> + <p> + The whistle stopped again. “Madame, for once we agree. I, too, should like + to know why I returned here.” + </p> + <p> + “Carewe,” said Fitzgerald, “if you will give me your word—” + </p> + <p> + “Do not waste your breath, Monsieur,” interrupted Madame. + </p> + <p> + “Will you give me your word?” persisted Fitzgerald, refusing to see the + warning in Madame's eyes. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “You are to be locked up, Monsieur,” tartly. “You are too inquisitive to + remain at large.” + </p> + <p> + “My confinement will be of short duration,” confidently. + </p> + <p> + “It rests with my pleasure alone.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + A shade of consternation came into the faces of his audience. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Fitzgerald became enveloped in gloom. + </p> + <p> + “And your credentials, Monsieur?” said the duchess. “You have them, I + presume?” + </p> + <p> + “I came as a private gentleman; a telegram to my minister in Vienna will + bring indorsement.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “Well,” said Beauvais, “you do not seem very glad to see me.” + </p> + <p> + Maurice remained silent, and continued to gaze at his enemy over the tops + of the upturned bayonets. + </p> + <p> + “You are, as I said before, a very young man.” + </p> + <p> + “I killed a puppet of yours last night,” replied Maurice, with a peculiar + grimness. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “If she had refused to be a wife,” Maurice replied. + </p> + <p> + Beauvais curled his mustache. + </p> + <p> + “I know a good deal more than Kopf.” + </p> + <p> + “You do, certainly; but you are at a convenient nearness. What you know + will be of no use to you. Let us sit down.” + </p> + <p> + “I prefer to stand. The honor you do me is too delicate.” + </p> + <p> + “O, you may have no fear.” + </p> + <p> + “I have none—so long as my back isn't turned toward you.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + Maurice bowed, his hand resting near one of the bayonets. + </p> + <p> + “You are also a soldier of fortune-like myself. You made a good stroke + with the archbishop. You hoodwinked us all.” + </p> + <p> + Maurice did not reply. + </p> + <p> + “Very well; we shall not dwell on it. You are discreet.” + </p> + <p> + Maurice saw that Beauvais was speaking in good faith. + </p> + <p> + “You have something to say; come to it at once, for it is trying to watch + you so closely.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + A sardonic laugh greeted this proposal. “I did not know that you were so + cheap. But it is too late.” + </p> + <p> + “Too late?” + </p> + <p> + “Doubtless, since by this time the authorities are in possession of the + interesting facts.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg to differ from you.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “You are a great rascal,” Maurice said finally. + </p> + <p> + “We will waive that point. The matter at present is, how much will it take + to buy your silence for the future?” + </p> + <p> + “And I am sorry I did not kill you when I had the chance,” continued + Maurice, as if following a train of thought. + </p> + <p> + “We never realize how great the opportunity is till it has passed beyond + our reach. Well, how much?” + </p> + <p> + “I am not in need of money.” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure; I forgot. But the archbishop could not have given you a + competence for life.” + </p> + <p> + “I choked a few facts out of Kopf,” said Maurice. “You will wear no crown—that + is, earthly.” + </p> + <p> + “And your heavenly one is near at hand,” rejoined Beauvais. + </p> + <p> + Maurice absently fingered a bayonet. + </p> + <p> + “You refuse this conciliation on my part?” asked Beauvais. + </p> + <p> + “Positively.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Go to the devil!” + </p> + <p> + “In that, I shall offer you the precedence.” 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—cavalry. + Finally, there came the rumbling of heavy metal—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> + “So be it,” he replied. “Your government had better appoint your successor + at once. Good morning.” + </p> + <p> + “You will die suddenly some day,” 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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + There was something so likable about the old warrior that Maurice + relented. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And her Royal Highness's dog?” slyly. + </p> + <p> + “What! Did you hear about that?” Maurice flushed. + </p> + <p> + “There is little going on in Bleiberg that we don't hear about. The + princess is charming. Poor girl!” + </p> + <p> + “Madame's victory will have a strange odor. Can she not let the king die + in peace?” + </p> + <p> + “My son, she dares not. If that throne were vacant of a king—Let us + not talk politics.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame has no love for me,” said Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “Madame has no love for any one, if that will give you any satisfaction.” + </p> + <p> + “It does. My lord the Englishman came near striking me last night.” + </p> + <p> + “I would not lay that up against him. Madame was the power behind the + throne.” + </p> + <p> + “And the impulse behind Madame?” smiling. + </p> + <p> + “You are the only man who has ever crossed Madame's path; she can not + forget it.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us avoid dissertations.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you want to talk about?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “It is not exactly what I've done; it is what I know.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you know?” + </p> + <p> + Maurice repeated the story. + </p> + <p> + “And you bested him at the rapiers?” in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Is there anything startling about it?” asked Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “It will be for him, if I live long enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Beauvais has promised to push me off the board, to use his own words. I + am wondering how he will do it.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks.” + </p> + <p> + “Then after dinner we'll play poker until they come to take you to + Brunnstadt.” + </p> + <p> + “What sort of a city is it?” + </p> + <p> + “You will not see much of it; so I will not take the trouble to tell you + that it is slightly inferior to Bleiberg.” + </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> + “Ha!” said the Colonel; “you have forgotten the wine, rascals!” + </p> + <p> + “Bring a dozen bottles,” Maurice suggested, having an idea in mind. + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “A dozen bottles, then,” said the Colonel to the servants, who retired to + execute the order. + </p> + <p> + “How old will it be?” asked Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “Twice your age, my son. But do not make any miscalculation about my + capacity for tokayer.” + </p> + <p> + “Any miscalculation?” Maurice echoed. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Maurice's laugh had a false ring to it. The Colonel had made a very shrewd + guess. + </p> + <p> + “Well!” 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—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> + “Why, you know the game as thoroughly as an Arizona corporal.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What have you got?” asked the Colonel, answering a call. + </p> + <p> + “Jacks full.” + </p> + <p> + “Takes the pot;” and this Americanism came so naturally that Maurice + roared. + </p> + <p> + “Poker is a great preliminary study to diplomacy,” said the Colonel, as he + scrutinized his hand. “You raise it?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “All the same to me.” + </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> + “Is there any truth,” said the Colonel, “about your shooting a man who is + found cheating in your country?” + </p> + <p> + “There is, if you can draw quicker than he.” Maurice glanced at his hand + and threw it down. + </p> + <p> + “What did you have?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing. I was trying to fill a straight.” + </p> + <p> + “So was I,” said the Colonel, sweeping the board. “It's your deal.” 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—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> + “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.” + </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> + “Call? What have you got?” asked the Colonel. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure of it.” + </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> + “Sh!” cried the Colonel, coming around the table; “you'll stampede the + horses.” + </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> + “Take off your coat,” said Maurice, quietly. + </p> + <p> + The Colonel complied. “You are not so very drunk just now.” + </p> + <p> + “No. It was one of those bluffs when you make them think you haven't them + when you have.” + </p> + <p> + “What next?” asked the Colonel. + </p> + <p> + “Those cords in the corner.” + </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> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Hang me!” exclaimed Maurice, finding himself brought to a halt. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Certainly Maurice's countenance expressed nothing less than perplexity. He + stepped back a few paces. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you just as soon explain to me—” + </p> + <p> + “It means that a certain young lady, like myself, believes in your + innocence.” + </p> + <p> + “The countess?” Maurice cried eagerly, remembering the look of the night + before and the tears which were in it. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + First Maurice clasped the hand and wrung it. “Colonel, I do not want you + to get into trouble on my account—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But they'll wonder how I tied you—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And the army?” + </p> + <p> + “The army? Who the devil has said anything about the army?” + </p> + <p> + “I heard it go past last night.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Keep to the right of the pass. Now, quick, before my conscience + speaks above a whisper.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to see the countess.” + </p> + <p> + “You will—if you reach Bleiberg by to-morrow night.” + </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> + “It was very kind of you to load it, Colonel.” + </p> + <p> + The Colonel blinked his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Au revoir!” said Maurice, as he made for the door. “Vergis mein nicht!” + 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> + “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!” + </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> + “Halt! Where the devil are you going?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, back to your cursed chateau!” Maurice answered surlily. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + But Maurice did not march; he was filled with curiosity. “Are you a + trooper in Madame the duchess's household?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “No, curse you!” + </p> + <p> + “Who are you, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Come, come; this will not pass. No tricks; you have been following me + these twenty minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “The deuce I have!” exclaimed Maurice, bewildered. “To Bleiberg, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “And without loss of time. When we cross the Thalians I shall be perfectly + willing to parley with you.” + </p> + <p> + “To Bleiberg, then,” said Maurice. “Since that is my destination, the + devil I care how I get there.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to tell me that you are going to Bleiberg?” surprise mingling + with his impatience. + </p> + <p> + “No place else.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you a spy?” menacingly. + </p> + <p> + “No more than you.” + </p> + <p> + “But that uniform!” + </p> + <p> + “I fancy yours looks a good deal like it,” Maurice replied testily. + </p> + <p> + “I confess I never saw you before, and your tongue has a foreign twist,” + with growing doubt. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure I never saw you before, nor want to see you again.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing in that uniform?” + </p> + <p> + “You have the advantage of me; suppose you begin the introduction?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed I have the advantage of you, and propose to maintain it. Who are + you and what are you doing here? Answer!” + </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> + “And you?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “The twentieth of September,” answered Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I am. I myself was attempting to dispense with the questionable + hospitality of the Red Chateau—good Lord!” striking his forehead. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. And woe to the woman who kept me there! How came you there?” + </p> + <p> + Maurice, confident that something extraordinary was taking place, related + in synopsis his adventures. + </p> + <p> + “And this cursed Englishman?” + </p> + <p> + “Will drain a bitter cup. Madame is playing with him.” + </p> + <p> + “And the king; is he dead?” + </p> + <p> + “He is dying.” Maurice's wonder grew. What part had this strange young man + in this comedy, which was rapidly developing into a tragedy? + </p> + <p> + “And her Highness—her Royal Highness?” eagerly clutching Maurice by + the arm; “and she?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “What do they say?” The tones were hollow. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “An army!” cried Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “You?” Maurice retreated a step. The silver moonshine became tinged with + red. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “I am so weak,” said the prince, “so pitiably weak! I thought to frighten + the woman by starving myself, poor fool that I was!” + </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> + “Silence!” 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> + “You have been a soldier?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Perhaps we had better strike out for the mountains. The sentry line + can not extend as far as this.” + </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> + “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.” + </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> + “Look!” 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> + “What does this mean?” asked the prince. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “A sheep or cattle path,” said the prince, after a close inspection. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “I am giving out,” the prince confessed reluctantly. “Let us make as much + headway as we can while I last.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Equal or not, lead the way. If I fall I'll call you.” + </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> + “If your Highness will remain here,” he said, “I will fetch assistance, + for the barrack can not be far off.” + </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> + “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!” + </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> + “To Bleiberg, your Highness,” he cried, at the same time offering the + bottle, which the prince did not hesitate to empty. + </p> + <p> + “Ha!” staggering to his feet. “Where are the men?” + </p> + <p> + Maurice explained the cause of their absence. The prince swore, and + climbed with difficulty into the saddle. + </p> + <p> + “Thank God,” he said, as they galloped away, “we shall be there first.” + </p> + <p> + “Adieu, Madame!” Maurice cried, airily. He was free. + </p> + <p> + “To our next meeting, duchess!” 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> + “Look!” + </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> + “A woman!” exclaimed Maurice. “And alone this time of morning!” + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” cried the prince; “and heading for the duchy? Let us wait.” + </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> + “I should like to know what that means,” said Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “It is very strange,” the prince said, musingly. “I have seen that woman + before. She is one of the dancers at the opera.” + </p> + <p> + “Mayhap she has a lover on the other side.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “Bleiberg!” Maurice waved his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Thanks to you, that I look on it.” + </p> + <p> + It was ten o'clock when they passed under the city gates. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, will you go with me to the palace?” asked the prince. + </p> + <p> + “If your Highness will excuse me,” said Maurice; “no, I should be in the + way; and besides I am dead for want of sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Your Highness, I belong to a foreign country.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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> + “Ho! open, open!” 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> + “Open, Lieutenant,” he cried; “it is his Highness, Prince Frederick!” + </p> + <p> + The bars came down, the gates swung in. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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—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. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the prince entered the palace and was proceeding up the grand + corridor, when a bared sword stayed his progress. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said von Mitter, “you have lost your way. You can not enter + here.” + </p> + <p> + “I?” a haughty, threatening expression on his pale face. “Are you sure?” + </p> + <p> + Von Mitter fell back against the wall and all but lost hold of his saber. + “Your Highness?” he gasped, overcome. + </p> + <p> + “Even so!” said the prince. “The archbishop! the Marshal! Lead me to them + at once!” + </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> + “His Highness Prince Frederick of Carnavia.” + </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> + “His Highness!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “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. + </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—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> + “To arms, Messieurs, to arms!” cried the prince, feverishly. “To arms!” + </p> + <p> + The archbishop stepped forward and took the prince's hand in his own. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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: “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.” + </p> + <p> + When he had gone the prelate said: “My friend, our services to the kingdom + are nearly over.” + </p> + <p> + “We are lost!” replied the chancellor. “The king is happy, indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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> + “We shall drink at the Red Chateau to-night,” said the prince, gaily, to + Maurice. + </p> + <p> + “That we shall,” replied Maurice; “and the best in the cellars.” + </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> + “O, the urbanity of the young and the brave!” he murmured. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </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. “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. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! que j'aime les militaires!” + </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> + “Monsieur,” he said impulsively, “you shall always possess my friendship, + once we are well out of this.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, your Highness,” replied Maurice, and laughing; “the after-thought + is timely!” + </p> + <p> + The sun lay close to the western rim of hills; an opal sky encompassed the + earth; the air was balmy. + </p> + <p> + “The French call this St. Martin's summer,” said Maurice. “In my country + we call it Indian summer—ah!” 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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </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> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” said Kronau, shrugging. + </p> + <p> + “It is already on the way.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “Your Highness,” he whispered, “I am going to make a dash for the road.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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. + </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> + “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. + </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> + “Good boy!” he said encouragingly to the Mecklenberg. “Good boy!” + </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> + “My God, what a shot!” he murmured. “I am lost!” + </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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “It shall be yours, damn you!” replied Beauvais. + </p> + <p> + “The Austrian ambassador has your history; kill me or not, you are lost.” + 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—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—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> + “No!” Maurice cried, throwing off the drowsiness. “My God, I will not die + here!... Go, boy!” 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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Water!” 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> + “Water!” 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> + “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. + </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> + “Voici le sabre de mon pere!” + </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> + “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!” + </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> + “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.” + </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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “He is out of his head!” cried Scharfenstein, rushing up the steps. “God + knows what has happened!” + </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> + “Carewe!... What has happened? God's name, you are soaked in blood!” Von + Mitter held Maurice at arm's length. “A battle?” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Scharfenstein held the flask to the sufferer's lips. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But how comes he into all this?” asked Scharfenstein, perplexedly. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + Scharfenstein hurried away to the square. + </p> + <p> + In the royal bedchamber a girl murmured over a cold hand. “God pity me; I + am all, all alone!” + </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> + “Mine!” 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> + “Captain,” said Madame, imperiously, “summon to me Monseigneur the + archbishop!” + </p> + <p> + Her command fell on ears of stone. Von Mitter made no sign that he heard + her. + </p> + <p> + “Take care, Monsieur,” she warned; “I am mistress here. If you will not + obey me, my officers will.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame, I acknowledge no mistress save the daughter of the king. No one + shall pass this door to announce your presence to Monseigneur.” + </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> + “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.” + </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> + “Captain, all here are prisoners of war,” she said. “Do not forget that + soon there will be benefits for those who serve me.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “The king?” she said, struck by a thought which caused a red spot to + appear on each cheek. + </p> + <p> + “Is dead. Go and leave us in peace.” + </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> + “In that case, Captain,” she said, her voice uncertain and constrained, + “bid Monseigneur to wait on me at the Continental.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “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.” + </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> + “Mademoiselle,” she said, “I beg of you to accept my sympathies; but the + fortunes of war—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Madame,” interrupted the prelate, lifting his white, attenuated hand, + “we will discuss the fortunes of war—later.” + </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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Seize him!” cried Madame. + </p> + <p> + When the men sprang forward to execute this command, Fitzgerald barred the + way. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said doggedly; “you shall not touch him.” + </p> + <p> + “Stand aside, Monsieur,” said Madame, determined to vent her rage on some + one. + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” said von Mitter, “I will shoot down the first man who lays a + hand on Monsieur Carewe.” + </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> + “He is dying,” she whispered; “he is dying for me!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Go, Madame,” said the prelate. “This palace is indeed a tomb.” He felt + the princess grow limp on his arm. “Go.” + </p> + <p> + “Maurice!” cried Fitzgerald, springing to the side of the fallen man. “My + God! Maurice!” + </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: “Monseigneur the archbishop.” + </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> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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> + “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.” + </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> + “His Excellency, the Austrian ambassador!” announced the orderly. + </p> + <p> + The archbishop bowed and left the apartment. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Then, Madame,” said the ambassador, suppressing the admiration in his + eyes at this evidence of royal nonchalance, “I shall inform his Majesty at + once.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </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> + “You?” she cried. “You? You have dared to hide that you might witness my + weakness and my tears? You....” + </p> + <p> + “Madame!” + </p> + <p> + “Go! I hate you!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Madame, we always hate those whom we have wronged. Do not forget that + I love you, with a love that passes convention.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, I am yet a princess. Did you not hear me bid you go?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, what do you wish?” subdued by the fervor of his tones. + </p> + <p> + “You! nothing in the world but you.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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? + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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. + </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> + “O, if only he might live!” she cried. “And he will not?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Monsieur,” she said, turning to the physician, “I have something to say + to Monseigneur.” + </p> + <p> + The physician bowed and passed into the boudoir, the door of which he + closed. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “No, my child,” and the prelate closed his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Monseigneur?” he said, faintly. + </p> + <p> + “Do you wish absolution, my son?” + </p> + <p> + “I am dying...?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Where am I?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my son, speak. Her Highness will listen.” + </p> + <p> + “It is to her Highness that I wish to speak.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Maurice.” She took his hand timidly in hers, and looked at the + archbishop. + </p> + <p> + “Speak to him from your heart, my child,” said the prelate. “It will + comfort you both.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + She kissed him on the lips. She felt as if she, too, were dying. + </p> + <p> + “God guard your Highness,” he said. “It is dark.... I do not see you....” + </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"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Puppet Crown, by Harold MacGrath + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PUPPET CROWN *** + +***** This file should be named 3239-h.htm or 3239-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/3/3239/ + +Produced by Charles Franks, the Distributed Proofreading Team, and David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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