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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Puppet Crown, by Harold MacGrath
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Puppet Crown
+
+Author: Harold MacGrath
+
+Posting Date: February 21, 2009 [EBook #3239]
+Release Date: May, 2002
+Last Updated: July  13, 2016
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PUPPET CROWN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Franks and the Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+
+
+THE PUPPET CROWN
+
+by Harold MacGrath
+
+
+
+
+     TO THE MEMORY OF THAT GOOD FRIEND
+                    AND
+            COMRADE OF MY YOUTH
+                 MY FATHER
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+     I. THE SCEPTER WHICH WAS A STICK
+    II. THE COUP D'ETAT OF COUSIN JOSEF
+   III. AN EPISODE TEN YEARS AFTER
+    IV. AN ADVENTURE WITH ROYALTY
+     V. BEHIND THE PUPPET BOOTH
+    VI. MADEMOISELLE OF THE VEIL
+   VII. SOME DIALOGUE, AN SPRAINED ANKLE, AND SOME SOLDIERS
+  VIII. THE RED CHATEAU
+    IX. NOTHING MORE SERIOUS THAN A HOUSE PARTY
+     X. BEING OF LONG RIDES, MAIDS, KISSES AND MESSAGES
+    XI. THE DENOUEMENT
+   XII. WHOM THE GODS DESTROY AND A FEW OTHERS
+  XIII. BEING OF COMPLICATIONS NOT RECKONED ON
+   XIV. QUI M'AIME, AIME MON CHIEN
+    XV. IN WHICH FORTUNE BECOMES CARELESS AND PRODIGAL
+   XVI. WHAT HAPPENED AT THE ARCHBISHOP'S PLACE AND AFTER
+  XVII. SOME PASSAGES AT ARMS
+ XVIII. A MINOR CHORD AND A CHANGE OF MOVEMENT
+   XIX. A CHANCE RIDE IN THE NIGHT
+    XX. THE LAST STAND OF A BAD SERVANT
+   XXI. A COURT FETE AT THE RED CHATEAU
+  XXII. IN WHICH MAURICE RECURS TO OFFENBACH
+ XXIII. A GAME OF POKER AND THE STAKES
+  XXIV. THE PRISONER OF THE RED CHATEAU
+   XXV. THE FORTUNES OF WAR
+  XXVI. A PAGE FORM TASSO
+ XXVII. WORMWOOD AND LEES
+XXVIII. INTO THE HANDS OF AUSTRIA  XXIX. INTO STILL WATERS AND SILENCE
+
+
+
+     Ah Love! Could you and I with Him conspire
+     To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire
+       Would not we shatter it to bits--and then
+     Re-mold it nearer to the Heart's desire!
+
+                    --Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. THE SCEPTER WHICH WAS A STICK
+
+The king sat in his private garden in the shade of a potted orange tree,
+the leaves of which were splashed with brilliant yellow. It was high
+noon of one of those last warm sighs of passing summer which now and
+then lovingly steal in between the chill breaths of September. The
+velvet hush of the mid-day hour had fallen.
+
+There was an endless horizon of turquoise blue, a zenith pellucid as
+glass. The trees stood motionless; not a shadow stirred, save that which
+was cast by the tremulous wings of a black and purple butterfly, which,
+near to his Majesty, fell, rose and sank again. From a drove of wild
+bees, swimming hither and thither in quest of the final sweets of the
+year, came a low murmurous hum, such as a man sometimes fancies he hears
+while standing alone in the vast auditorium of a cathedral.
+
+The king, from where he sat, could see the ivy-clad towers of the
+archbishop's palace, where, in and about the narrow windows, gray and
+white doves fluttered and plumed themselves. The garden sloped gently
+downward till it merged into a beautiful lake called the Werter See,
+which, stretching out several miles to the west, in the heart of the
+thick-wooded hills, trembled like a thin sheet of silver.
+
+Toward the south, far away, lay the dim, uneven blue line of the Thalian
+Alps, which separated the kingdom that was from the duchy that is, and
+the duke from his desires. More than once the king leveled his gaze
+in that direction, as if to fathom what lay behind those lordly rugged
+hills.
+
+There was in the air the delicate odor of the deciduous leaves which,
+every little while, the king inhaled, his eyes half-closed and his
+nostrils distended. Save for these brief moments, however, there rested
+on his countenance an expression of disenchantment which came of
+the knowledge of a part ill-played, an expression which described a
+consciousness of his unfitness and inutility, of lethargy and weariness
+and distaste.
+
+To be weary is the lot of kings, it is a part of their royal
+prerogative; but it is only a great king who can be weary gracefully.
+And Leopold was not a great king; indeed, he was many inches short of
+the ideal; but he was philosophical, and by the process of reason he
+escaped the pitfalls which lurk in the path of peevishness.
+
+To know the smallness of the human atom, the limit of desire, the
+existence of other lives as precious as their own, is not the philosophy
+which makes great kings. Philosophy engenders pity; and one who
+possesses that can not ride roughshod over men, and that is the business
+of kings.
+
+As for Leopold, he would rather have wandered the byways of Kant than
+studied royal etiquette. A crown had been thrust on his head and a
+scepter into his hand, and, willy-nilly, he must wear the one and wield
+the other. The confederation had determined the matter shortly before
+the Franco-Prussian war.
+
+The kingdom that was, an admixture of old France and newer Austria, was
+a gateway which opened the road to the Orient, and a gateman must be
+placed there who would be obedient to the will of the great travelers,
+were they minded to pass that way. That is to say, the confederation
+wanted a puppet, and in Leopold they found a dreamer, which served as
+well. That glittering bait, a crown, had lured him from his peaceful
+Osian hills and valleys, and now he found that his crown was of straw
+and his scepter a stick.
+
+He longed to turn back, for his heart lay in a tomb close to his castle
+keep, but the way back was closed. He had sold his birthright. So he
+permitted his ministers to rule his kingdom how they would, and gave
+himself up to dreams. He had been but a cousin of the late king, whereas
+the duke of the duchy that is had been a brother. But cousin Josef
+was possessed of red hair and a temper which was redder still, and,
+moreover, a superlative will, bending to none, and laughing at those who
+tried to bend him.
+
+He would have been a king to the tip of his fiery hair; and it was for
+this very reason that his subsequent appeals for justice and his rights
+fell on unheeding ears. The confederation feared Josef; therefore they
+dispossessed him. Thus Leopold sat on the throne, while his Highness bit
+his nails and swore, impotent to all appearances.
+
+Leopold leaned forward from his seat. In his hand he held a riding stick
+with which he drew shapeless pictures in the yellow gravel of the path.
+His brows were drawn over contemplative eyes, and the hint of a sour
+smile lifted the corners of his lips. Presently the brows relaxed, and
+his gaze traveled to the opposite side of the path, where the British
+minister sat in the full glare of the sun.
+
+In the middle of the path, as rigid as a block of white marble, reposed
+a young bulldog, his moist black nose quivering under the repeated
+attacks of a persistent insect. It occurred to the king that there was
+a resemblance between the dog and his master, the Englishman. The same
+heavy jaws were there, the same fearless eyes, the same indomitable
+courage for the prosecution of a purpose.
+
+A momentary regret passed through him that he had not been turned from
+a like mold. Next his gaze shifted to the end of the path, where a
+young Lieutenant stood idly kicking pebbles, his cuirass flaming in the
+dazzling sunshine. Soon the drawing in the gravel was resumed.
+
+The British minister made little of the three-score years which were
+closing in on him, after the manner of an army besieging a citadel. He
+was full of animal exuberance, and his eyes, a trifle faded, it must
+be admitted, were still keenly alive and observant. He was big of
+bone, florid of skin, and his hair--what remained of it--was wiry and
+bleached. His clothes, possibly cut from an old measure, hung loosely
+about the girth--a sign that time had taken its tithe. For thirty-five
+years he had served his country by cunning speeches and bursts of fine
+oratory; he had wandered over the globe, lulling suspicions here and
+arousing them there, a prince of the art of diplomacy.
+
+He had not been sent here to watch this kingdom. He was touching a
+deeper undercurrent, which began at St. Petersburg and moved toward
+Central Asia, Turkey and India, sullenly and irresistibly. And now his
+task was done, and another was to take his place, to be a puppet among
+puppets. He feared no man save his valet, who knew his one weakness, the
+love of a son on whom he had shut his door, which pride forbade him to
+open. This son had chosen the army, when a fine diplomatic career had
+been planned--a small thing, but it sufficed. Even now a word from an
+humbled pride would have reunited father and son, but both refused to
+speak this word.
+
+The diplomat in turn watched the king as he engaged in the aimless
+drawing. His meditation grew retrospective, and his thoughts ran back
+to the days when he first befriended this lonely prince, who had come to
+England to learn the language and manners of the chill islanders. He had
+been handsome enough in those days, this Leopold of Osia, gay and eager,
+possessing an indefinable charm which endeared him to women and made him
+respected of men. To have known him then, the wildest stretch of
+fancy would never have placed him on this puppet throne, surrounded
+by enemies, menaced by his adopted people, rudderless and ignorant of
+statecraft.
+
+"Fate is the cup," the diplomat mused, "and the human life the ball,
+and it's toss, toss, toss, till the ball slips and falls into eternity."
+Aloud he said, "Your Majesty seems to be well occupied."
+
+"Yes," replied the king, smiling. "I am making crowns and scratching
+them out again--usurping the gentle pastime of their most Christian
+Majesties, the confederation. A pretty bauble is a crown, indeed--at a
+distance. It is a fine thing to wear one--in a dream. But to possess one
+in the real, and to wear it day by day with the eternal fear of laying
+it down and forgetting where you put it, or that others plot to steal
+it, or that you wear it dishonestly--Well, well, there are worse things
+than a beggar's crust."
+
+"No one is honest in this world, save the brute," said the diplomat,
+touching the dog with his foot. "Honesty is instinctive with him, for
+he knows no written laws. The gold we use is stamped with dishonesty,
+notwithstanding the beautiful mottoes; and so long as we barter and
+sell for it, just so long we remain dishonest. Yes, you wear your crown
+dishonestly but lawfully, which is a nice distinction. But is any crown
+worn honestly? If it is not bought with gold, it is bought with lies
+and blood. Sire, your great fault, if I may speak, is that you haven't
+continued to be dishonest. You should have filled your private coffers,
+but you have not done so, which is a strange precedent to establish. You
+should have increased taxation, but you have diminished it; you should
+have forced your enemy's hand four years ago, when you ascended the
+throne, but you did not; and now, for all you know, his hand may be
+too strong. Poor, dishonest king! When you accepted this throne, which
+belongs to another, you fell as far as possible from moral ethics.
+And now you would be honest and be called dull, and dream, while your
+ministers profit and smile behind your back. I beg your Majesty's
+pardon, but you have always requested that I should speak plainly."
+
+The king laughed; he enjoyed this frank friend. There was an essence of
+truth and sincerity in all he said that encouraged confidence.
+
+"Indeed, I shall be sorry to have you go tomorrow," he said, "for I
+believe if you stayed here long enough you would truly make a king of
+me. Be frank, my friend, be always frank; for it is only on the base of
+frankness that true friendship can rear itself."
+
+"You are only forty-eight," said the Englishman; "you are young."
+
+"Ah, my friend," replied the king with a tinge of sadness, "it is not
+the years that age us; it is how we live them. In the last four years I
+have lived ten. To-day I feel so very old! I am weary of being a king.
+I am weary of being weary, and for such there is no remedy. Truly I was
+not cut from the pattern of kings; no, no. I am handier with a book than
+with a scepter; I'd liever be a man than a puppet, and a puppet I am--a
+figurehead on the prow of the ship, but I do not guide it. Who care for
+me save those who have their ends to gain? None, save the archbishop,
+who yet dreams of making a king of me. And these are not my people who
+surround me; when I die, small care. I shall have left in the passing
+scarce a finger mark in the dust of time."
+
+"Ah, Sire, if only you would be cold, unfriendly, avaricious. Be stone
+and rule with a rod of iron. Make the people fear you, since they refuse
+to love you; be stone."
+
+"You can mold lead, but you can not sculpture it; and I am lead."
+
+"Yes; not only the metal, but the verb intransitive. Ah, could the fires
+of ambition light your soul!"
+
+"My soul is a blackened grate of burnt-out fires, of which only a coal
+remains."
+
+And the king turned in his seat and looked across the crisp green
+lawns to the beds of flowers, where, followed by a maid at a respectful
+distance, a slim young girl in white was cutting the hardy geraniums,
+dahlias and seed poppies.
+
+"God knows what her legacy will be!"
+
+"It is for you to make it, Sire."
+
+Both men continued to remark the girl. At length she came toward
+them, her arms laden with flowers. She was at the age of ten, with a
+beautiful, serious face, which some might have called prophetic.
+Her hair was dark, shining like coal and purple, and gossamer in its
+fineness; her skin had the blue-whiteness of milk; while from under long
+black lashes two luminous brown eyes looked thoughtfully at the world.
+She smiled at the king, who eyed her fondly, and gave her unengaged hand
+to the Englishman, who kissed it.
+
+"And how is your Royal Highness this fine day? he asked, patting the
+hand before letting it go.
+
+"Will you have a dahlia, Monsieur?" With a grave air she selected a
+flower and slipped it through his button-hole.
+
+"Does your Highness know the language of the flowers?" the Englishman
+asked.
+
+"Dahlias signify dignity and elegance; you are dignified, Monsieur, and
+dignity is elegance."
+
+"Well!" cried the Englishman, smiling with pleasure; "that is turned as
+adroitly as a woman of thirty."
+
+"And am I not to have one?" asked the king, his eyes full of paternal
+love and pride.
+
+"They are for your Majesty's table," she answered.
+
+"Your Majesty!" cried the king in mimic despair. "Was ever a father
+treated thus? Your Majesty! Do you not know, my dear, that to me
+'father' is the grandest title in the world?"
+
+Suddenly she crossed over and kissed the king on the cheek, and he held
+her to him for a moment.
+
+The bulldog had risen, and was wagging his tail the best he knew how. If
+there was any young woman who could claim his unreserved admiration,
+it was the Princess Alexia. She never talked nonsense to him in their
+rambles together, but treated him as he should be treated, as an animal
+of enlightenment.
+
+"And here is Bull," said the princess, tickling the dog's nose with a
+scarlet geranium.
+
+"Your Highness thinks a deal of Bull?" said the dog's master.
+
+"Yes, Monsieur, he doesn't bark, and he seems to understand all I say to
+him."
+
+The dog looked up at his master as if to say: "There now, what do you
+think of that?"
+
+"To-morrow I am going away," said the diplomat, "and as I can not very
+well take Bull with me, I give him to you."
+
+The girl's eyes sparkled. "Thank you, Monsieur, shall I take him now?"
+
+"No, but when I leave your father. You see, he was sent to me by my son
+who is in India. I wish to keep him near me as long as possible. My son,
+your Highness, was a bad fellow. He ran away and joined the army against
+my wishes, and somehow we have never got together again. Still, I've
+a sneaking regard for him, and I believe he hasn't lost all his filial
+devotion. Bull is, in a way, a connecting link."
+
+The king turned again to the gravel pictures. These Englishmen were
+beyond him in the matter of analysis. Her Royal Highness smiled vaguely,
+and wondered what this son was like. Once more she smiled, then moved
+away toward the palace. The dog, seeing that she did not beckon, lay
+down again. An interval of silence followed her departure. The thought
+of the Englishman had traveled to India, the thought of the king to
+Osia, where the girl's mother slept. The former was first to rouse.
+
+"Well, Sire, let us come to the business at hand, the subject of my last
+informal audience. It is true, then, that the consols for the loan
+of five millions of crowns are issued to-day, or have been, since the
+morning is passed?"
+
+"Yes, it is true. I am well pleased. Jacobi and Brother have agreed to
+place them at face value. I intend to lay out a park for the public at
+the foot of the lake. That will demolish two millions and a half. The
+remainder is to be used in city improvements and the reconstruction of
+the apartments in the palace, which are too small. If only you knew what
+a pleasure this affords me! I wish to make my good city of Bleiberg a
+thing of beauty--parks, fountains, broad and well paved streets."
+
+"The Diet was unanimous in regard to this loan?"
+
+"In fact they suggested it, and I was much in favor."
+
+"You have many friends there, then?"
+
+"Friends?" The king's face grew puzzled, and its animation faded away.
+"None that I know. This is positively the first time we ever agreed
+about anything."
+
+"And did not that strike you as rather singular?"
+
+"Why, no."
+
+"Of course, the people are enthusiastic, considering the old rate of
+taxation will be renewed?" The diplomat reached over and pulled the
+dog's ears.
+
+"So far as I can see," answered the king, who could make nothing of this
+interrogatory.
+
+"Which, if your Majesty will pardon me, is not very far beyond your
+books."
+
+"I have ministers."
+
+"Who can see farther than your Majesty has any idea."
+
+"Come, come, my friend," cried the king good-naturedly; "but a moment
+gone you were chiding me because I did nothing. I may not fill my
+coffers as you suggested, but I shall please my eye, which is something.
+Come; you have something to tell me."
+
+"Will your Majesty listen?"
+
+"I promise."
+
+"And to hear?"
+
+"I promise not only to listen, but to hear," laughing; "not only to
+hear, but to think. Is that sufficient?"
+
+"For three years," began the Englishman, "I have been England's
+representative here. As a representative I could not meddle with
+your affairs, though it was possible to observe them. To-day I am an
+unfettered agent of self, and with your permission I shall talk to you
+as I have never talked before and never shall again."
+
+The diplomat rose from his seat and walked up and down the path, his
+hands clasped behind his back, his chin in his collar. The bulldog
+yawned, stretched himself, and followed his master, soberly and
+thoughtfully. After a while the Englishman returned to his chair and sat
+down. The dog gravely imitated him. He understood, perhaps better than
+the king, his master's mood. This pacing backward and forward was always
+the forerunner of something of great importance.
+
+During the past year he had been the repository of many a secret. Well,
+he knew how to keep one. Did not he carry a secret which his master
+would have given much to know? Some one in far away India, after putting
+him into the ship steward's care, had whispered: "You tell the governor
+that I think just as much of him as ever." He had made a desperate
+effort to tell it the moment he was liberated from the box, but he
+had not yet mastered that particular language which characterized his
+master's race.
+
+"To begin with," said the diplomat, "what would your Majesty say if I
+should ask permission to purchase the entire loan?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. THE COUP D'ETAT OF COUSIN JOSEF
+
+The king, who had been leaning forward, fell back heavily in his seat,
+his eyes full wide and his mouth agape. Then, to express his utter
+bewilderment, he raised his hands above his head and limply dropped
+them.
+
+"Five millions of crowns?" he gasped.
+
+"Yes; what would your Majesty say to such a proposition?" complacently.
+
+"I should say," answered the king, with a nervous laugh, "that my friend
+had lost his senses, completely and totally."
+
+"The fact is," the Englishman declared, "they were never keener nor more
+lucid than at this present moment."
+
+"But five millions!"
+
+"Five millions; a bagatelle," smiling.
+
+"Certainly you can not be serious, and if you were, it is out of the
+question. Death of my life! The kingdom would be at my ears. The people
+would shout that I was selling out to the English, that I was putting
+them into the mill to grind for English sacks."
+
+"Your Majesty will recollect that the measure authorizing this loan
+was rather a peculiar one. Five millions were to be borrowed
+indiscriminately, of any man or body of men willing to advance the money
+on the securities offered. First come, first served, was not written,
+but it was implied. It was this which roused my curiosity, or cupidity,
+if you will."
+
+"I can not recollect that the bill was as you say," said the king,
+frowning.
+
+"I believe you. When the bill came to you, you were not expected to
+recollect anything but the royal signature. Have you read half of what
+you have signed and made law? No. I am serious. What is it to you or to
+the people, who secures this public mortgage, so long as the money
+is forthcoming? I desire to purchase at face value the twenty
+certificates."
+
+"As a representative of England?"
+
+The diplomat smiled. The king's political ignorance was well known. "As
+a representative of England, Sire, I could not purchase the stubs from
+which these certificates are cut. And then, as I remarked, I am an
+unfettered agent of self. The interest at two per cent. will be a
+fine income on a lump of stagnant money. Even in my own country, where
+millionaires are so numerous as to be termed common, I am considered a
+rich man. My personal property, aside from my estates, is five times the
+amount of the loan. A mere bagatelle, if I may use that pleasantry."
+
+"Impossible, impossible!" cried the king, starting to his feet, while
+a line of worry ran across his forehead. He strode about impatiently
+slapping his boots with the riding stick. "It is impossible."
+
+"Why do you say impossible, Sire?"
+
+"I can not permit you to put in jeopardy a quarter of a million pounds,"
+forgetting for the moment that he was powerless.
+
+"Aha!" the diplomat cried briskly. "There is, then, beneath your
+weariness and philosophy, a fear?"
+
+"A fear?" With an effort the king smoothed the line from his forehead.
+"Why should there be fear?"
+
+"Why indeed, when our cousin Josef--" He stopped and looked toward the
+mountains.
+
+"Well?" abruptly.
+
+"I was thinking what a fine coup de maitre it would be for his Highness
+to gather in all these pretty slips of parchment given under the hand of
+Leopold."
+
+"Small matter if he should. I should pay him." The king sat down. "And
+it is news to me that Josef can get together five millions."
+
+"He has friends, rich and powerful friends."
+
+"No matter, I should pay him."
+
+"Are you quite sure?"
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"The face of the world changes in the course of ten years. Will there be
+five millions in your treasury ten years hence?"
+
+"The wealth of my kingdom is not to be questioned," proudly, "nor its
+resources."
+
+"But in ten years, with the ministers you have?" The Englishman shrugged
+doubtfully. "Why have you not formed a new cabinet of younger men?
+Why have you retained those of your predecessor, who are your natural
+enemies? You have tried and failed."
+
+The expression of weariness returned to the king's face. He knew that
+all this was but a preamble to something of deeper significance. He
+anticipated what was forming in the other's mind, but he wished to
+avoid a verbal declaration. O, he knew that there was a net of intrigue
+enmeshing him, but it was so very fine that he could not pick up the
+smallest thread whereby to unravel it. Down in his soul he felt the
+shame of the knowledge that he dared not. A dreamer, rushing toward the
+precipice, would rather fall dreaming than waken and struggle futilely.
+
+"My friend," he said, finally, sighing, "proceed. I am all attention."
+
+"I never doubted your Majesty's perspicacity. You do not know, but you
+suspect, what I am about to disclose to you. My hope is that, when I am
+done, your Majesty will throw Kant and the rest of your philosophers out
+of the window. The people are sullen at the mention of your name,
+while they cheer another. There is an astonishing looseness about
+your revenues. The reds and the socialists plot for revolution and
+a republic, which is a thin disguise for a certain restoration. Your
+cousin the duke visits you publicly twice each year. He has been in the
+city a week at a time incognito, yet your minister of police seems
+to know nothing." The speaker ceased, and fondled the dahlia in his
+button-hole.
+
+The king, noting the action, construed it as the subtle old diplomat
+intended he should. "Yes, yes! I am a king only for her sake. Go on.
+Tell me all."
+
+"The archbishop and the chancellor are the only friends you possess.
+The Marshal, from personal considerations merely, remains neutral. Your
+army, excepting the cuirassiers, are traitors to your house. The wisest
+thing you have done was to surround yourself with this mercenary body,
+whom you call the royal cuirassiers, only, instead of three hundred, you
+should have two thousand. Self-interest will make them true to you.
+You might find some means to pay them, for they would be a good buffer
+between you and your enemies. The president of the Diet and the members
+are passing bills which will eventually undermine you. How long it will
+take I can not say. But this last folly, the loan, which you could have
+got on without, caps the climax. The duke was in the city last week
+unknown to you. Your minister of finance is his intimate. This loan
+was a connivance of them all. Why ten years, when it could easily be
+liquidated in five? I shall tell you. The duke expects to force you into
+bankruptcy within that time, and when the creditor demands and you can
+not pay, you will be driven from here in disgrace.
+
+"And where will you go? Certainly not to Osia, since you traded it for
+this throne. It was understood, when you assumed the reign, that the
+finances of the kingdom would remain unimpeachable. Bankrupt, the
+confederation will be forced to disavow you. They will be compelled to
+restore the throne to your enemy, who, believe me, is most anxious to
+become your creditor.
+
+"This is an independent state,--conditionally. The confederation have
+formed themselves into a protectorate. Why? I can only guess. One or
+more of them covet these beautiful lands. What are ten years to Josef,
+when a crown is the goal? Your revenues are slowly to decline, there
+will be internal troubles to eat up what money you have in the treasury.
+O, it is a plot so fine, so swiftly conceived, so cunningly devised that
+I would I were twenty years younger, to fight it with you! But I am
+old. My days for acting are past. I can only advise. He was sure of his
+quarry, this Josef whose hair is of many colors. Had you applied to the
+money syndicates of Europe, the banks of England, France, Germany, or
+Austria, your true sponsor, the result would always be the same: your
+ruin. Covertly I warned you not to sign; you laughed and signed. A trap
+was there, your own hand opened it. How they must have laughed at
+you! If you attempt to repudiate your signature the Diet has power to
+overrule you.
+
+"Truly, the shade of Macchiavelli masks in the garb of your cousin. I
+admire the man's genius. This is his throne by right of inheritance. I
+do not blame him. Only, I wish to save you. If you were alone, why, I
+do not say that I should trouble myself, for you yourself would not be
+troubled. But I have grown to love that child of yours. It is all for
+her. Do you now understand why I make the request? It appears Quixotic?
+Not at all. Put my money in jeopardy? Not while the kingdom exists. If
+you can not pay back, your kingdom will. Perhaps you ask what is the
+difference, whether I or the duke becomes your creditor? This: in ten
+years I shall be happy to renew the loan. In ten years, if I am gone,
+there will be my son. You wonder why I do this. I repeat it is for your
+daughter. And perhaps," with a dry smile, "it is because I have no love
+for Josef."
+
+"I will defeat him!" cried the king, a fire at last shining in his eyes.
+
+"You will not."
+
+"I will appeal to the confederation and inform them of the plot."
+
+"The resource of a child! They would laugh at you for your pains.
+For they are too proud of their prowess in statecraft to tolerate
+a suspicion that your cousin is a cleverer man than all of them put
+together. There remains only one thing for you to do."
+
+"And what is that?" wearily.
+
+"Accept my friendship at its true value."
+
+The king made no reply. He set his elbows on the arms of the rustic
+seat, interlaced his fingers and rested his chin on them, while his
+booted legs slid out before him. His meditation lengthened into several
+minutes. The diplomat evinced no sign of impatience.
+
+"Come with me," said the king, rising quickly. "I will no longer dream.
+I will act. Come."
+
+The diplomat nodded approvingly; and together they marched toward the
+palace. The bulldog trotted on behind, his pink tongue lolling out
+of his black mouth, a white tusk or two gleaming on each side. The
+Lieutenant of the cuirassiers saluted as they passed him, and, when they
+had gone some distance, swung in behind. He observed with some concern
+that his Majesty was much agitated.
+
+The business of the kingdom, save that performed in the Diet, was
+accomplished in the east wing of the palace; the king's apartments,
+aside from the state rooms, occupied the west wing. It was to the
+business section that the king conducted the diplomat. In the chamber of
+finance its minister was found busy at his desk. He glanced up casually,
+but gave an ejaculation of surprise when he perceived who his visitors
+were.
+
+"O, your Majesty!" he cried, bobbing up and running out his chair.
+"Good afternoon, your Excellency," to the Englishman, adjusting his
+gold-rimmed glasses, through which his eyes shone pale and cold.
+
+The diplomat bowed. The little man reminded him of M. Thiers, that
+effervescence of soda tinctured with the bitterness of iron. He
+understood the distrust which Count von Wallenstein entertained for him,
+but he was not distrustful of the count. Distrust implies uncertainty,
+and the Englishman was not the least uncertain as to his conception of
+this gentleman of finance.
+
+There were few men whom the count could not interpret; one stood before
+him. He could not comprehend why England had sent so astute a diplomat
+and politician to a third-rate kingdom. Of that which we can not
+understand we are suspicious, and the guilty are distrustful. Neither
+the minister of police nor his subordinates could fathom the purpose of
+this calm, dignified old man with the difficult English name.
+
+"Count," began the king, pleasantly, "his Excellency here has made a
+peculiar request."
+
+"And what might that be, Sire?"
+
+"He offers to purchase the entire number of certificates issued to-day
+for our loan."
+
+"Five millions of crowns?" The minister's astonishment was so genuine
+that in jerking back his head his glasses slipped from his nose and
+dangled on the string.
+
+The Englishman bowed again, the wrinkle of a smile on his face.
+
+"I would not believe him serious at first, count," said the king,
+laughing easily, "but he assured me that he is. What can be done about
+it?"
+
+"O, your Majesty," cried the minister, excitedly, "it would not be
+politic. And then the measure--"
+
+"Is it possible that I have misconstrued its import?" the diplomat
+interposed with a fine air of surprise.
+
+"You are familiar--" began the count, hesitatingly.
+
+"Perfectly; that is, I believe so."
+
+"But England--"
+
+"Has nothing whatever to do with the matter. Something greater, which
+goes by the name of self-interest."
+
+"Ah," said the count, his wrinkles relaxing; "then it is on your own
+responsibility?"
+
+"Precisely."
+
+"But five millions of crowns--two hundred and fifty thousand pounds!"
+The minister could not compose himself. "This is a vast sum of money. We
+expected not an individual, but a syndicate, to accept our securities,
+to become debtors to the various banks on the continent. But a personal
+affair! Five millions of crowns! The possibilities of your wealth
+overwhelm me."
+
+The Englishman smiled. "I dare say I have more than my share of this
+world's goods. I can give you a check for the amount on the bank of
+England."
+
+"Your Majesty's lamented predecessor--"
+
+"Is dead," said the king gently. He had no desire to hear the minister
+recount that ruler's virtues. "Peace to his ashes."
+
+"Five millions of crowns!" The minister had lost his equipoise in the
+face of the Englishman's great riches, of which hitherto he had held
+some doubts. Suddenly a vivid thought entered his confused brain. The
+paper cutter in his hand trembled. In the breathing space allowed him
+he began to calculate rapidly. The king and the diplomat had been in the
+garden; something had passed between them. What? The paper cutter slowly
+ceased its uneven movements. The count calmly placed it behind the
+inkwells. .... The Englishman knew. The glitter of gold gave way to
+the thought of the peril. A chasm yawned at his feet. But he was an old
+soldier in the game of words and cross-purposes.
+
+"We should be happy to accord you the privilege of becoming the
+kingdom's creditor," he said, smiling at the diplomat, whom nothing had
+escaped. "I am afraid, however, that your request has been submitted too
+late. At ten o'clock this morning the transfer of the certificates would
+have been a simple matter. There are twenty in all; it may not be too
+late to secure some of them." He looked tranquilly from the Englishman
+to the king.
+
+The smiling mask fell from the king's face; he felt that he was lost. He
+tried to catch his friend's eye, but the diplomat was deeply interested
+in the console of the fireplace.
+
+"They seem to be at a premium," the Englishman said, "which speaks well
+for the prosperity of the country. I am sorry to have troubled you."
+
+"It would have been a pleasure indeed," replied the count. He stood
+secure within his fortress, so secure that he would have liked to laugh.
+
+"It is too bad," said the king, pulling his thoughts together.
+
+"Your Majesty is giving the matter too much importance," said the
+diplomat. "It was merely a whim. I shall have the pleasure and honor of
+presenting my successor this evening."
+
+The count bent low, while the king nodded absently. He was thinking that
+a penful of ink, carelessly trailed over a sheet of paper, had lost him
+his throne. He was about to draw the arm of the diplomat through his
+own, when his step was arrested by the entrance of a messenger who
+presented a letter to the minister of finance.
+
+"With your Majesty's permission," he said, tearing open the envelope.
+As he read the contents, his shoulders sank to their habitual stoop and
+benignity once more shone in the place of alertness. "Decidedly, fate is
+not with your Excellency to-day. M. Jacobi writes me that four millions
+have already been disposed of to M. Everard & Co., English bankers in
+the Konigstrasse, who are representing a French firm in this particular
+instance. I am very sorry."
+
+"It is of no moment now," replied the Englishman indifferently.
+
+The adverb which concluded this declaration caught the keen ear of the
+minister, who grew tall again. What would he not have given to read
+the subtle brain of his opponent, for opponent he knew him to be! His
+intense scrutiny was blocked by a pair of most innocent eyes.
+
+"Well," said the king impatiently, "let us be gone, my friend. The talk
+of money always leaves a copperish taste on my tongue."
+
+Arm in arm they passed from the chamber. When the door closed behind
+them, the minister of finance drew his handkerchief across his brow.
+
+"Everard & Co.," mused the Englishman aloud. "Was it not indeed a stroke
+for your cousin to select them as his agents? You will in truth be
+accused of selling out to the English. But there is a coincidence in all
+this."
+
+"I am lost!" said the king.
+
+"On the contrary, you are saved. Everard & Co. are my bankers and
+attorneys; in fact, I own an interest in the firm."
+
+"What is this you tell me?" cried the king.
+
+"Sire, we English have a peculiar trait; it is asking for something
+after we have taken it. The human countenance is a fine picture book.
+I should like to read that belonging to your cousin Josef, providing I
+could read unobserved."
+
+"My friend!" said the king.
+
+"Say nothing. Here is the bulldog; take him to her Royal Highness with
+my compliments. There is no truer friend than an animal of his breed.
+He is steadfast in his love, for he makes but few friends; he is a good
+companion, for he is undemonstrative; he can read and draw inferences,
+and your enemies will be his. I shall bid you good afternoon. God be
+with your Majesty."
+
+"Ah, to lose you now!" said, the king, a heaviness in his heart such as
+presentiment brings.
+
+The diplomat turned and went down the grand corridor. The bulldog tugged
+at his chain. Animals are gifted with prescience. He knew that his
+master had passed forever out of his life. Presently he heard the
+voice of the princess calling; and the glamour of royalty encompassed
+him,--something a human finds hard to resist, and he was only a dog.
+
+Meanwhile another messenger had entered the chamber of finance and had
+gone. On the minister's desk lay a crumpled sheet of paper on which was
+written:
+
+"Treason and treachery! It has at this moment been ascertained that,
+while pretending to be our agents in securing the consols, M. Everard &
+Co. now refuse to deliver them into the custody of Baron von Rumpf, as
+agreed, and further, that M. Everard & Co. are bankers and attorneys to
+his Excellency the British minister. He must not leave this city with
+those consols."
+
+With his eyes riveted on these words, the minister of finance, huddled
+in his chair, had fallen into a profound study.
+
+There were terrible times in the house of Josef that night.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. AN EPISODE TEN YEARS AFTER
+
+One fine September morning in a year the date of which is of no
+particular importance, a man stepped out of a second-class carriage
+on to the canopied platform of the railway terminus in the ancient and
+picturesque city of Bleiberg. He yawned, shook himself, and stretched
+his arms and legs, relieved to find that the tedious journey from Vienna
+had not cramped those appendages beyond recovery.
+
+He stood some inches above the average height, and was built up in
+a manner that suggested the handiwork of a British drill-master, his
+figure being both muscular and symmetrical. Besides, there was on his
+skin that rich brown shadow which is the result only of the forces
+of the sun and wind, a life in the open air. This color gave peculiar
+emphasis to the yellow hair and mustache. His face was not handsome,
+if one accept the Greek profile as a model of manly beauty, but it
+was cleanly and boldly cut, healthful, strong and purposeful, based on
+determined jaws and a chin which would have been obstinate but for the
+presence of a kindly mouth.
+
+A guard deposited at his feet a new hatbox, a battered traveling bag and
+two gun cases which also gave evidence of rough usage. The luggage was
+literally covered with mutilated square and oblong slips of paper of
+many colors, on which were printed the advertisements of far-sighted
+hotel keepers all the way from Bombay to London and half-way back across
+the continent.
+
+There was nothing to be seen, however, indicative of the traveler's
+name. He surveyed his surroundings with lively interest shining in his
+gray eyes, one of which peered through a monocle encircled by a thin rim
+of tortoise shell. He watched the fussy customs officials, who, by
+some strange mischance, overlooked his belongings. Finally he made an
+impatient gesture.
+
+"Find me a cab," he said to the attentive guard, who, with an eye to
+the main chance, had waved off the approach of a station porter. "If the
+inspectors are in no hurry, I am."
+
+"At once, my lord;" and the guard, as he stooped and lifted the luggage,
+did not see the start which this appellation caused the stranger to
+make, but who, after a moment, was convinced that the guard had given
+him the title merely out of politeness. The guard placed the traps
+inside of one of the many vehicles stationed at the street exit of the
+terminus. He was an intelligent and deductive servant.
+
+The traveler was some noted English lord who had come to Bleiberg
+to shoot the famed golden pheasant, and had secured a second-class
+compartment in order to demonstrate his incognito. Persons who traveled
+second-class usually did so to save money; yet this tall Englishman,
+since the train departed from Vienna, had almost doubled in gratuities
+the sum paid for his ticket. The guard stood respectfully at the door
+of the cab, doffed his cap, into which a memento was dropped, and went
+along about his business.
+
+The Englishman slammed the door, the jehu cracked his whip, and a moment
+later the hoarse breathings of the motionless engines became lost in the
+sharper noises of the city carts. The unknown leaned against the faded
+cushions, curled his mustache, and smiled as if well satisfied with
+events. It is quite certain that his sense of ease and security would
+have been somewhat disturbed had he known that another cab was close
+on the track of his, and that its occupant, an officer of the city
+gendarmerie, alternately smiled and frowned as one does who floats
+between conviction and uncertainty. At length the two vehicles turned
+into the Konigstrasse, the principal thoroughfare of the capital, and
+here the Englishman's cab came to a stand. The jehu climbed down and
+opened the door.
+
+"Did Herr say the Continental?" he asked.
+
+"No; the Grand."
+
+The driver shrugged, remounted his box, and drove on. The Grand Hotel
+was clean enough and respectable, but that was all that could be said
+in its favor. He wondered if the Englishman would haggle over the fare.
+Englishmen generally did. He was agreeably disappointed, however, when,
+on arriving at the mean hostelry, his passenger plunged a hand into a
+pocket and produced three Franz-Josef florins.
+
+"You may have these," he said, "for the trouble of having them exchanged
+into crowns."
+
+As he whipped up, the philosophical cabman mused that these tourists
+were beyond the pale of his understanding. With a pocket full of money,
+and to put up at the Grand! Why not the Continental, which lay close to
+the Werter See, the palaces, the royal and public gardens? It was at
+the Continental that the fine ladies and gentlemen from Vienna, and
+Innsbruck, and Munich, and Belgrade, resided during the autumn months.
+But the Grand--ach! it was in the heart of the shops and markets, and
+within a stone's throw of that gloomy pile of granite designated in the
+various guide books as the University of Bleiberg.
+
+The Englishman had some difficulty in finding a pen that would write,
+and the ink was oily, and the guest-book was not at the proper angle.
+At last he managed to form the letters of his name, which was John
+Hamilton. After some deliberation, he followed this with "England." The
+proprietor, who acted as his own clerk, drew the book toward him, and
+after some time, deciphered the cabalistic signs.
+
+"Ah, Herr John Hamilton of England; is that right?"
+
+"Yes; I am here for a few days' shooting. Can you find me a man to act
+as guide?"
+
+"This very morning, Herr."
+
+"Thanks."
+
+Then he proceeded up the stairs to the room assigned to him. The smell
+of garlic which pervaded the air caused him to make a grimace. Once
+alone in the room, he looked about. There was neither soap nor towel,
+but there was a card which stated that the same could be purchased at
+the office. He laughed. A pitcher of water and a bowl stood on a small
+table, which, by the presence of a mirror (that could not in truth
+reflect anything but light and darkness), served as a dresser. These
+he used to good advantage, drying his face and hands on the white
+counterpane of the bed, and laughing quietly as he did so. Next he lit
+a pipe, whose capacity for tobacco was rather less than that of a lady's
+thimble, sat in a chair by the window, smoked quietly, and gazed down on
+the busy street.
+
+It was yet early in the morning; sellers of vegetables, men and women
+peasants, with bare legs and wooden shoes, driving shaggy Servian ponies
+attached to low, cumbersome carts, passed and repassed, to and from the
+markets. A gendarme, leaning the weight of his shoulder on the guard of
+a police saber, rested against the corner of a wine shop across the way.
+Students, wearing squat caps with vizors, sauntered indolently along,
+twirling canes and ogling all who wore petticoats. Occasionally the
+bright uniform of a royal cuirassier flashed by; and the Englishman
+would lean over the sill and gaze after him, nodding his head in
+approval whenever the cuirassier sat his horse well.
+
+In the meantime the gendarme, who followed him from the station, had
+entered the hotel, hastily glanced at the freshly written name, and made
+off toward the palace.
+
+"Well, here we are," mused the Englishman, pressing his thumb into the
+bowl of his pipe. "The affair promises some excitement. To-morrow will
+be the sixth; on the twentieth it will be a closed incident, as the
+diplomats would say. I don't know what brought me here so far ahead of
+time. I suppose I must look out for a crack on the head from some one
+I don't know, but who knows me so deuced well that he has hunted me
+in India and England, first with fine bribes, then with threats." He
+glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the gun cases. "It was a
+capital idea, otherwise a certain ubiquitous customs official, who lies
+in wait for the unwary at the frontier, would now be an inmate of
+a hospital. To have lived thirty-five years, and to have ground out
+thirteen of them in her Majesty's, is to have acquired a certain disdain
+for danger, even when it is masked. I am curious to see how far these
+threats will go. It will take a clever man to trap me. The incognito is
+a fort. By the way, I wonder how the inspectors at the station came to
+overlook my traps? Strange, considering what I have gone through."
+
+At this moment the knuckles of a hand beat against the door.
+
+"Come in!" answered the Englishman, wheeling his chair, but making no
+effort to rise. "Come in!"
+
+The door swung in, and there entered a short, spectacled man in dark
+gray clothes which fairly bristled with brass buttons. He was the chief
+inspector of customs. He bowed.
+
+The Englishman, consternation widening his eyes, lowered his pipe.
+
+"Monsieur Hamilton's pardon," the inspector began, speaking in French,
+"but with your permission I shall inspect your luggage and glance at
+your passports." He bowed again.
+
+"Now do you know, mon ami," replied the Englishman, "that Monsieur
+Hamilton will not permit you to gaze even into yonder washbowl?" He rose
+lazily.
+
+"But, Monsieur," cried the astonished official, to whom non-complaisance
+in the matter of inspection was unprecedented, "you certainly will not
+put any obstacle in the path of my duty!"
+
+"Your duty, Monsieur the Spectacles, is to inspect at the station.
+There your assistants refused to award me their attention. You are
+trespassing."
+
+"Monsieur forgets," sternly; "it is the law. Is it possible that I shall
+be forced to call in the gendarmes to assist me? This is extraordinary!"
+
+"I dare say it is, on your part," admitted the Englishman, polishing the
+bowl of his pipe against the side of his nose. "You had best go at once.
+If you do not, I shall take you by the nape of your Bleibergian neck and
+kick you down the stairs. I have every assurance of my privileges.
+The law here, unless it has changed within the past hour, requires
+inspection at the frontier, and at the capital; but your jurisdiction
+does not extend beyond the stations. Bon jour, Monsieur the Spectacles;
+bon jour!"
+
+"O, Monsieur!"
+
+"Good day!"
+
+"Monsieur, it is my duty; I must!"
+
+"Good day! How will you go, by the stairs or by the window? I--but
+wait!" an idea coming to him which caused him to reflect on the possible
+outcome of violence done to a government official, who, perhaps, was
+discharging his peculiar duty at the orders of superiors. He walked
+swiftly to the door and slid the bolt, to the terror of the inspector,
+on whose brow drops of perspiration began to gather. "Now," opening the
+hat box and taking out a silk hat, "this is a hat, purchased in Paris
+at Cook's. There is nothing in the lining but felt. Look into the
+box; nothing. Take out your book and follow me closely," he continued,
+dividing the traveling bag into halves, and he began to enumerate the
+contents.
+
+"But, Monsieur!" remonstrated the inspector, who did not enjoy this
+infringement of his prerogatives; his was the part to overhaul. "This
+is--"
+
+"Be still and follow me," and the Englishman went on with the
+inventory. "There!" when he had done, "not a dutiable thing except this
+German-Scotch whisky, and that is so bad that I give it to you rather
+than pay duty. What next? My passports? Here they are, absolutely
+flawless, vised by the authorities in Vienna."
+
+The slips crackled in the fluttering fingers of the inspector. "They
+are as you say, Monsieur," he said, returning the permits. Then he added
+timidly, "And the gun cases?"
+
+"The gun cases!" The pipe spilled its coal to the floor. "The gun
+cases!"
+
+"Yes, Monsieur."
+
+"And why do you wish to look into them?" with agitation.
+
+"Smugglers sometimes fill them with cigars."
+
+"Ah!" The Englishman selected two loaded shells, drew a gun from the
+case, threw up the breech and rammed in the shells. Then he extended
+the weapon to within an inch of the terrified inspector's nose. "Now,
+Monsieur the Spectacles, look in there and tell me what you see."
+
+The fellow sank half-fainting into a chair. "Mon Dieu, Monsieur, would
+you kill me who have a family?"
+
+"What's a customs inspector, more or less?" asked the terrible islander,
+laughing. "I advise you not to ask me to let you look into the other
+gun, out of consideration for your family. It has hair triggers, and my
+fingers tremble."
+
+"Monsieur, Monsieur, you do wrong to trifle with the law. I shall be
+obliged to report you. You will be arrested."
+
+"Nothing of the kind," was the retort. "I have only to inform the
+British minister how remiss you were in your obligations. I should go
+free, whereas you would be discharged. But what I demand to know is,
+what the devil is the meaning of this farce."
+
+"I am simply obeying orders," answered the inspector, wiping his
+forehead. "It is not a farce, as Monsieur will find." Then, as if to
+excuse this implied threat: "Will Monsieur please point the gun the
+other way?"
+
+The Englishman unloaded the gun and tossed it on the bed.
+
+"Thanks. In coming here I simply obeyed the orders of the minister of
+police."
+
+"And what in the world did you expect to find?"
+
+"We are looking--that is, they are looking--O, Monsieur, it is
+impossible for me to disclose to you my government's purposes."
+
+"What and whom were you expecting?" demanded the Englishman. "You
+shall not leave this room till you have fully explained this remarkable
+intrusion."
+
+"We were expecting the Lord and Baronet Fitzgerald."
+
+"The lord!" laughing. "Does the lord visit Bleiberg often, then, that
+you prepare this sort of a reception? And the Baronet Fitzgerald?"
+
+"They are the same and the one person."
+
+"And who the deuce is he; a spy, a smuggler, a villain, or what?"
+
+"As to that, Monsieur," with a wonder why this man laughed, "I know no
+more than you. But I do know that for the past month every Englishman
+has been subjected to this surveillance, and has submitted with more
+grace than you," with an oblique glance.
+
+"What! Examined his luggage at the hotel?"
+
+"Yes, Monsieur. It is the order of the minister of police. I know not
+why." The natural color was returning to his cheeks.
+
+"This is a fine country, I must say. At least the king should acquaint
+his visitors with the true cause of this treatment." In his turn the
+Englishman resorted to oblique glances.
+
+"The king?" The inspector raised a shoulder and spread his hands. "The
+king is a paralytic, Monsieur, and has little to say these days."
+
+"A paralytic? I thought he was called `the handsome monarch'?"
+
+"That was years ago, Monsieur. For three years he has been helpless and
+bedridden. The archbishop is the real king nowadays. But he meddles not
+with the police."
+
+"This is very sad. I suppose it would be impossible for strangers to see
+him now."
+
+"An audience?" a sparkle behind the spectacles. "Is your business with
+the king, Monsieur?"
+
+"My business is mine," shortly. "I am only a tourist, and should have
+liked to see the king from mere curiosity. However, had you explained
+all this to me, I should not have caused you so many gray hairs."
+
+"Monsieur did not give me the chance," simply.
+
+"True," the Englishman replied soberly. He began to think that he had
+been over hasty in asserting his privileges. "But all this has nothing
+to do with me. My name is John Hamilton. See, it is engraved on the
+stock of the gun," catching it up and holding it under the spectacled
+eyes, which still observed it with some trepidation. "That is the name
+in my passports, in the book down stairs, in the lining of my hat. I am
+sorry, since you were only obeying orders, that my rough play has caused
+you alarm." He unbolted the door. "Good morning."
+
+The inspector left the room as swiftly as his short legs could carry
+him, ignoring the ethics of common politeness. As he stumbled down the
+stairs he cursed the minister of police for requiring this spy work of
+him, and not informing him why it was done. Ah, these cursed Anglais
+from Angleterre! They were all alike, and this one was the worst he had
+ever encountered. And those ugly black orifices in the gun! Peste! He
+would resign! Yes, certainly he would resign.
+
+As to the Englishman, he stood in the center of the room and scratched
+his head. "Hang it, I've made an ass of myself. That blockhead will have
+the gendarmes about my ears. If they arrest me there will be the devil
+to pay. The Lord and the Baronet Fitzgerald!" he repeated. He sat down
+on the edge of the bed, and fell to laughing again. "Confound these
+picture-book kingdoms! They always take themselves so seriously. Well,
+if the gendarmes call this afternoon I'll not be at home. No, thank you.
+I shall be hunting pheasants."
+
+And thereat he set to work cleaning the gun which had all but prostrated
+the inspector. Soon the room smelled of oiled rags and tobacco.
+Some-times the worker whistled softly. Sometimes he let the gun fall
+against his knee, and stared dreamily through the window at the flight
+of the ragged clouds. Again, he would shake his head, as if there were
+something which he failed to understand. Half an hour passed, when again
+some one knocked on the door.
+
+"Come in!" Under his breath he added: "The gendarmes, likely."
+
+But it was only the proprietor of the hotel. "Asking Herr's pardon," he
+said, "for this intrusion, but I have secured a man for you. I have the
+honor to recommend Johann Kopf as a good guide and hunter."
+
+"Send him up. If he pleases me, I'll use him."
+
+The proprietor withdrew.
+
+Johann Kopf proved to be a young German with a round, ruddy face,
+which was so innocent of guile as to be out of harmony with the
+shrewd, piercing black eyes looking out of it. The Englishman eyed him
+inquisitively, even suspiciously.
+
+"Are you a good hunter?" he asked.
+
+"There is none better hereabout," answered Johann, twirling his cap with
+noticeably white fingers. It was only in after days that the Englishman
+appreciated the full significance of this answer.
+
+"Speak English?"
+
+"No. Herr's German is excellent, however."
+
+"Humph!" The Englishman gave a final glance into the shining tubes of
+the gun, snapped the breach, and slipped it into the case. "You'll do.
+Return to the office; I'll be down presently."
+
+"Will Herr hunt this morning?"
+
+"No; what I wish this morning is to see the city of Bleiberg."
+
+"That is simple," said Johann. The fleeting, imperceptible smile did not
+convict his eyes of false keenness.
+
+He bowed out. When the door closed the Englishman waited until the sound
+of retreating steps failed. Then he took the gun case which he had not
+yet opened, and thrust it under the mattress of the bed.
+
+"Johann," he said, as he put on a soft hat and drew a cane from the
+straps of the traveling bag, "you will certainly precede me in our
+hunting expeditions. I do not like your eyes; they are not at home in
+your boyish face. Humph! what a country. Every one speaks a different
+tongue."
+
+The city of Bleiberg lay on a hill and in the valleys which fell away
+to the east and west. It was divided into two towns, the upper and
+the lower. The upper town and that part which lay on the shores of the
+Werter See was the modern and fashionable district. It was here that the
+king and the archbishop had their palaces and the wealthy their brick
+and stone. The public park skirted the lake, and was patterned after
+those fine gardens which add so much to the picturesqueness of Vienna
+and Berlin. There were wide gravel paths and long avenues of lofty
+chestnuts and lindens, iron benches, fountains and winding flower beds.
+The park, the palaces, and the Continental Hotel enclosed a public
+square, paved with asphalt, called the Hohenstaufenplatz, in the center
+of which rose a large marble fountain of several streams, guarded by
+huge bronze wolves. Here, too, were iron benches which were, for the
+most part, the meeting-place of the nursemaids. Carriages were allowed
+to make the circuit, but not to obstruct the way.
+
+The Konigstrasse began at the Platz, divided the city, and wound away
+southward, merging into the highway which continued to the Thalian Alps,
+some thirty miles distant. The palaces were at the southeast corner of
+the Platz, first the king's, then the archbishop's. The private gardens
+of each ran into the lake. Directly across from the palaces stood the
+cathedral, a relic of five centuries gone. On the northwest corner stood
+the Continental Hotel, with terrace and parapet at the water's edge, and
+a delightful open-air cafe facing the Platz. September and October were
+prosperous months in Bleiberg. Fashionable people who desired quiet made
+Bleiberg an objective point. The pheasants were plump, there were boars,
+gray wolves, and not infrequently Monsieur Fourpaws of the shaggy coat
+wandered across from the Carpathians.
+
+As to the lower town, it was given over to the shops and markets, the
+barracks, the university, and the Rathhaus, which served as the house of
+the Diet. It was full of narrow streets and quaint dwellings.
+
+Up the Konigstrasse the guide led the Englishman, who nodded whenever
+the voluble chatter of the German pleased him. When they began the
+descent of the hill, the vista which opened before them drew from the
+Englishman an ejaculation of delight. There lay the lake, like a bright
+new coin in a green purse; the light of the sun broke on the white
+buildings and flashed from the windows; and the lawns twinkled like
+emeralds.
+
+"It makes Vienna look to her laurels, eh, Herr?" said Johann.
+
+"But it must have cost a pretty penny."
+
+"Aye, that it did; and the king is being impressed with that fact every
+day. There are few such fine palaces outside of first-class kingdoms.
+The cathedral there was erected at the desire of a pope, born five
+hundred years ago. It is full of romance. There is to be a grand wedding
+there on the twentieth of this month. That is why there are so many
+fashionable people at the hotels. The crown prince of Carnavia, which
+is the large kingdom just east of us, is to wed the Princess Alexia, the
+daughter of the king."
+
+"On the twentieth? That is strange."
+
+"Strange?"
+
+"I meant nothing," said the Englishman, jerking back his shoulders;
+"I had in mind another affair."
+
+There was a flash in Johann's eyes, but he subdued it before the
+Englishman was aware of its presence. "However," said Johann, "there is
+something strange. The prince was to have arrived a week ago to complete
+the final arrangements for the wedding. His suite has been here a week,
+but no sign of his Highness. He stopped over a train at Ehrenstein
+to visit for a few hours a friend of the king, his father. Since then
+nothing has been heard from him. The king, it is said, fears that some
+accident has happened to him. Carnavia is also disturbed over this
+disappearance. Some whisper of a beautiful peasant girl. Who can say?"
+
+"Any political significance in this marriage?"
+
+"Leopold expects to strengthen his throne by the alliance. But--"
+Johann's mouth closed and his tongue pushed out his cheek. "There will
+be some fine doings in the good city of Bleiberg before the month is
+gone. The minister from the duchy has been given his passports. Every
+one concedes that trouble is likely to ensue. Baron von Rumpf--"
+
+"Baron von Rumpf," repeated the Englishman thoughtfully.
+
+"Yes; he is not a man to submit to accusations without making a
+disagreeable defense."
+
+"What does the duke say?"
+
+"The duke?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"His Highness has been dead these four years."
+
+"Dead four years? So much for man and his futile dreams. Dead four
+years," absently.
+
+"What did you say, Herr?"
+
+"I? Nothing. How did he die?"
+
+"He was thrown from his horse and killed. But the duchess lives, and she
+is worthy of her sire. Eh, Herr, there is a woman for you! She should
+sit on this throne; it is hers by right. These Osians are aliens and
+were forced on us."
+
+"It seems to me, young man, that you are talking treason."
+
+"That is my business, Herr." Johann laughed. "I am a socialist, and
+occasionally harangue for the reds. And sometimes, when I am in need of
+money, I find myself in the employ of the police."
+
+The muscles of the Englishman's jaws hardened, then they relaxed. The
+expression on the face of his guide was free from anything but bonhomie.
+
+"One must live," Johann added deprecatingly.
+
+"Yes, one must live," replied the Englishman.
+
+"O! but I could sell some fine secrets to the Osians had they money to
+pay. Ach! but what is the use? The king has no money; he is on the verge
+of bankruptcy, and this pretty bit of scenery is the cause of it."
+
+"So you are a socialist?" said the Englishman, passing over Johann's
+declamatory confidences.
+
+"Yes, Herr. All men are brothers."
+
+"Go to!" laughed the Englishman, "you aren't even a second cousin to me.
+But stay, what place is this we are passing?" indicating with his cane a
+red-brick mansion which was fronted by broad English lawns and protected
+from intrusion by a high iron fence.
+
+
+"That is the British legation, Herr."
+
+The Englishman stopped and stared, unconscious of the close scrutiny of
+the guide. His eyes traveled up the wide flags leading to the veranda,
+and he drew a picture of a square-shouldered old man tramping backward
+and forward, the wind tangling his thin white hair, his hands behind his
+back, his chin in his collar and at his heels a white bulldog. Rapidly
+another picture came. It was an English scene. And the echo of a voice
+fell on his ears. "My way and the freedom of the house and the key to
+the purse; your way and a closed door while I live. You can go, but you
+can not come back. You have decided? Yes? Then good morning." Thirteen
+years, thirteen years! He had sacrificed the freedom of the house and
+the key to the purse, the kind eyes and the warm pressure of that old
+hand. And for what? Starvation in the deserts, plenty of scars and
+little of thanks, ingratitude and forgetfulness.
+
+And now the kind eyes were closed and the warm hand cold. O, to recall
+the vanished face, the silent voice, the misspent years, the April days
+and their illusions! The Englishman took the monocle from his eye and
+looked at it, wondering what had caused the sudden blur.
+
+"There was a fine old man there in the bygone days," said Johann.
+
+"And who was he?"
+
+"Lord Fitzgerald, the British minister. He and Leopold were close
+friends." Johann's investigating gaze went unrewarded. The Englishman's
+face had resumed its expression of mild curiosity.
+
+"Ah; a compatriot of mine," he said. Inwardly he mused: "This guide is
+watching me; let him catch me if he can. His duchess? I know far too
+much of her!"
+
+"He was a millionaire, too," went on Johann.
+
+"Well, we can't all be rich. Come."
+
+They crossed the Strasse and traversed the walk at the side of the
+palace enclosures. The Englishman aimlessly trailed his cane along the
+green pickets of the fence till they ended in a stone arch which rose
+high over the driveway. The gates were open, and coming toward the two
+wanderers as they stood at the curb rolled the royal barouche, on
+each side of which rode a mounted cuirassier, sashed and helmeted. The
+Englishman, however, had observed nothing; he was lost in some dream.
+
+"Look, Herr!" cried Johann, rousing the other by a pull at the sleeve.
+"Look!" Socialist though he claimed to be, Johann touched his cap.
+
+In the barouche, leaning back among the black velvet cushions, her face
+mellowed by the shade of a small parasol, was a young woman of nineteen
+or twenty, as beautiful as a da Vinci freshly conceived. The Englishman
+saw a pair of grave dark eyes which, in the passing, met his and held
+them. He caught his breath.
+
+"Who is that?" he asked.
+
+"That is her Royal Highness the Crown Princess Alexia."
+
+Afterward the Englishman remembered seeing a white dog lying on the
+opposite seat.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. AN ADVENTURE WITH ROYALTY
+
+Maurice Carewe, attached to the American legation in Vienna, leaned
+against the stone parapet which separated the terraced promenade of the
+Continental Hotel from the Werter See, and wondered what had induced him
+to come to Bleiberg.
+
+He had left behind him the glory of September in Vienna, a city second
+only to Paris in fashion and gaiety; Vienna, with its inimitable bands,
+its incomparable gardens, its military maneuvers, its salons, its
+charming women; and all for a fool's errand. His Excellency was to
+blame. He had casually dropped the remark that the duchy's minister,
+Baron von Rumpf, had been given his passports as a persona non grata by
+the chancellor of the kingdom, and that a declaration of war was likely
+to follow. Maurice's dormant love of journalistic inquiry had become
+aroused, and he had asked permission to investigate the affair, a favor
+readily granted to him.
+
+But here he was, on the scene, and nobody knew anything, and nobody
+could tell anything. The duchess had remained silent. Not unnaturally he
+wished himself back in Vienna. There were no court fetes in the city
+of Bleiberg. The king's condition was too grave to permit them. And,
+besides, there had been no real court in Bleiberg for the space of ten
+years, so he was told. Those solemn affairs of the archbishop's, given
+once the week for the benefit of the corps diplomatique, were dull and
+spiritless. Her Royal Highness was seldom seen, save when she drove
+through the streets. Persons who remembered the reign before told what a
+mad, gay court it had been. Now it was funereal. The youth and beauty of
+Bleiberg held a court of its own. Royalty was not included, nor did it
+ask to be.
+
+A strange capital, indeed, Maurice reflected, as he gazed down into the
+cool, brown water. He regretted his caprice. There were pretty women in
+Vienna. Some of them belonged to the American colony. They danced well,
+they sang and played and rode. He had taught some of them how to fence,
+and he could not remember the times he had been "buttoned" while paying
+too much attention to their lips and eyes. For Maurice loved a thing
+of beauty, were it a woman, a horse or a Mediterranean sunset. What a
+difference between these two years in Vienna and that year in Calcutta!
+He never would forget the dingy office, with its tarnished sign, "U. S.
+Consul," tacked insecurely on the door, and the utter loneliness.
+
+He cast a pebble into the lake, and watched the ripples roll away and
+disappear, and ruminated on a life full of color and vicissitude. He
+remembered the Arizona days, the endless burning sand, the dull routine
+of a cavalry trooper, the lithe brown bodies of the Apaches, the first
+skirmish and the last. From a soldier he had turned journalist, tramped
+the streets of Washington in rain and shine, living as a man lived who
+must.
+
+One day his star had shot up from the nadir of obscurity, not very far,
+but enough to bring his versatility under the notice of the discerning
+Secretary of State, who, having been a friend of the father, offered
+the son a berth in the diplomatic corps. A consulate in a South American
+republic, during a revolutionary crisis, where he had shown consummate
+skill in avoiding political complications (and where, by a shrewd
+speculation in gold, he had feathered his nest for his declining years),
+proved that the continual incertitude of a journalistic career is a fine
+basis for diplomatic work. From South America he had gone to Calcutta,
+thence to Austria.
+
+He was only twenty-nine, which age in some is youth. He possessed an old
+man's wisdom and a boy's exuberance of spirits. He laughed whenever he
+could; to him life was a panorama of vivid pictures, the world a
+vast theater to which somehow he had gained admission. His beardless
+countenance had deceived more than one finished diplomat, for it was
+difficult to believe that behind it lay an earnest purpose and a daring
+courage. If he bragged a little, quizzed graybeards, sought strange
+places, sported with convention, and eluded women, it was due to his
+restlessness. Yet, he had the secretiveness of sand; he absorbed, but
+he revealed nothing. He knew his friends; they thought they knew him. It
+was his delight to have women think him a butterfly, men write him down
+a fool; it covered up his real desires and left him free.
+
+What cynicism he had was mellowed by a fanciful humor. Whether with
+steel or with words, he was a master of fence; and if at times some one
+got under his guard, that some one knew it not. To let your enemy see
+that he has hit you is to give him confidence. He saw humor where no one
+else saw it, and tragedy where it was not suspected. He was one of those
+rare individuals who, when the opportunity of chance refuses to come,
+makes one.
+
+"Germany and Austria are great countries," he mused, lighting a cigar.
+"Every hundredth man is a king, one in fifty is a duke, every tenth man
+is a prince, and one can not take a corner without bumping into a
+count or a baron. Even the hotel waiters are disquieting; there is that
+embarrassing atmosphere about them which suggests nobility in durance
+vile. As for me, I prefer Kentucky, where every man is a colonel, and
+you never make a mistake. And these kingdoms!" He indulged in subdued
+laughter. "They are always like comic operas. I find myself looking
+around every moment for the merry villagers so happy and so gay (at
+fifteen dollars the week), the eternal innkeeper and the perennial
+soubrette his daughter, the low comedian and the self-conscious tenor.
+Heigho! and not a soul in Bleiberg knows me, nor cares.
+
+"I'd rather talk five minutes to a pretty woman than eat stuffed
+pheasants the year around, and the stuffed pheasant is about all
+Bleiberg can boast of. Well, here goes for a voyage of discovery;" and
+he passed down the stone steps to the pier, quite unconscious of the
+admiring glances of the women who fluttered back and forth on the wide
+balconies above.
+
+It was four o'clock in the afternoon; a fresh wind redolent of pine and
+resin blew across the lake. Maurice climbed into a boat and pulled away
+with a strong, swift stroke, enjoying the liberation of his muscles. A
+quarter of a mile out he let the oars drift and took his bearings. He
+saw the private gardens of the king and the archbishop, and, convinced
+that a closer view would afford him entertainment, he caught up the oars
+again and moved inland.
+
+The royal gardens ran directly into the water, while those of the
+archbishop were protected by a wall of brick five or six feet in height,
+in the center of which was a gate opening on the water. Behind the gate
+was a small boat dock. Maurice plied the oars vigorously. He skirted the
+royal gardens, and the smell of newly mown lawns filled the air. Soon he
+was gliding along the sides of the moss-grown walls. A bird chirped in
+the overhanging boughs. He was about to cast loose the oars again, when
+the boat was brought to a violent stop. A few yards waterward from the
+gate there lay, hidden in the shadowed water, a sunken pier. On one of
+the iron piles the boat had become impaled.
+
+Maurice was tumbled into the bow of the boat, which began rapidly to
+fill. First he swore, then he laughed, for he was possessed of infinite
+good humor. The only thing left for him to do was to swim for the gate.
+With a rueful glance at his thin clothes, he dropped himself over the
+side of the wreck and struck out toward the gate. The water, having its
+source from the snowclad mountains, was icy. He was glad enough to grasp
+the lower bars of the gate and draw himself up. He was on the point of
+climbing over, when a picture presented itself to his streaming eyes.
+
+Seated on a bench made of twisted vine was a young girl. She held in her
+hand a book, but she was not reading it. She was scanning the unwritten
+pages of some reverie; her eyes, dark, large and wistful, were holding
+communion with the god of dreams. A wisp of hair, glossy as coal,
+trembled against a cheek white as the gown she wore.
+
+At her side, blinking in the last rays of the warm sun, sat a bulldog,
+toothless and old. Now and then a sear leaf, falling in a zig-zag
+course, rustled past his ears, and he would shake his head as if he,
+too, were dreaming and the leaves disturbed him. All at once he sniffed,
+his ears stood forward, and a low growl broke the enchantment. The
+girl, on discovering Maurice, closed the book and rose. The dog, still
+growling, jumped down and trotted to the gate. Maurice thought that it
+was time to speak.
+
+"Mademoiselle," he said, "pardon this intrusion, but my boat has met
+with an accident."
+
+The girl came to the gate. "Why, Monsieur," she exclaimed, "you are
+wet!"
+
+"That is true," replied Maurice, his teeth beginning to knock together.
+"I was forced to swim. If you will kindly open the gate and guide me to
+the street, I shall be much obliged to you."
+
+The gate swung outward, and in a moment Maurice was on dry land, or the
+next thing to it, which was the boat-dock.
+
+"Thank you," he said.
+
+"O! And you might have been drowned," compassion lighting her beautiful
+eyes. "Sit down on the bench, Monsieur, for you must be weak. And it was
+that sunken pier? I shall speak to Monseigneur; he must have it
+removed. Bull, stop growling; you are very impolite; the gentleman is in
+distress."
+
+Maurice sat down, not because he was weak, but because the desire to
+gain the street had suddenly subsided. Who was this girl who could say
+"must" to the formidable prelate? His quick eye noticed that she showed
+no sign of embarrassment. Indeed, she impressed him as one who was
+superior to that petty disturbance of collected thought. Somehow it
+seemed to him, as she stood there looking down at him, that he, too,
+should be standing. But she put forth a hand with gentle insistence when
+he made as though to rise. What an exquisite face, he thought. Against
+the whiteness of her skin her lips burned like poppy petals. Innocent,
+inquisitive eyes smiled gently, eyes in whose tranquil depths lay the
+glory of the world, asleep. Presently a color, faint and fugitive,
+dimmed the whiteness of her cheeks. Maurice, conscious of his rudeness
+and of a warmth in his own cheeks, instinctively lowered his gaze.
+
+"Pardon my rudeness," he said.
+
+"What is your name, Monsieur," she asked calmly.
+
+"It is Maurice Carewe. I am living in Vienna. I came to Bleiberg for
+pleasure, but the first day has not been propitious," with an apologetic
+glance at his dripping clothes.
+
+"Maurice Carewe," slowly repeating the full name as if to imprint it on
+her memory. "You are English?"
+
+He said: "No; I am one of those dreadful Yankees you have possibly read
+about."
+
+Her teeth gleamed. "Yes, I have heard of them. But you do not appear so
+very dreadful; though at present you are truly not at your best. What is
+this--this Yankeeland like?"
+
+"It would take me ever so long to tell you about it, it is such a great
+country."
+
+"You are a patriot!" clapping her hands. "No other country is so
+fine and large and great as your own. But tell me, is it as large as
+Austria?"
+
+"Austria? You will not be offended if I tell you?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Well," with fun in his eyes, "it is my opinion that I could hide
+Austria in my country so thoroughly that nobody would ever be able to
+find it again." He wondered how she would accept this statement.
+
+She lifted her chin and laughed, and the bulldog wagged his tail, as
+he always did when mirth touched her. He jumped up beside Maurice and
+looked into his face. Maurice patted his broad head, and he submitted.
+The girl looked rather surprised.
+
+"Are you a magician?" she asked.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Bull never makes friends."
+
+"But I do," said Maurice; "perhaps he understands that, and comes
+half-way. But it is rather strange to see a bulldog in this part of the
+country."
+
+"He was given to me, years ago, by an Englishman."
+
+"That accounts for it." He was experiencing a deal of cold, but he dared
+not mention it. "And may I ask your name?"
+
+"Ah, Monsieur," shyly, "to tell you my name would be to frighten you
+away."
+
+"I am sure nothing could do that," he declared earnestly. Had he been
+thinking of aught but her eyes he might have caught the significance of
+her words. But, then, the cold was numbing.
+
+She surveyed him with critical eyes. She saw a clean-shaven face, brown,
+handsome and eager, merry blue eyes, a chin firm and aggressive, a
+mischievous mouth, a forehead which showed the man of thought, a slim
+athletic form which showed the man of action--all of which combined to
+produce that indescribable air which attaches itself to the gentleman.
+
+"It is Alexia," she said, after some hesitation, watching him closely to
+observe the effect.
+
+But he was as far away as ever. "Alexia what?"
+
+"Only Alexia," a faint coquetry stealing into her glance.
+
+"O, then you are probably a maid?"
+
+"Y--es. But you are disappointed?"
+
+"No, indeed. You have put me more at ease. I suppose you serve the
+princess?"
+
+"Whenever I can," demurely.
+
+He could not keep his eyes from hers. "They say that she is a very
+lonely princess."
+
+"So lonely." And the coquetry faded from her eyes as her glance wandered
+waterward and became fixed on some object invisible and far away. "Poor
+lonely princess!"
+
+Maurice was growing colder and colder, but he did not mind. He had
+wished for some woman to talk to; his wish had been granted. "I feel
+sorry for her, if what they say is true," having no other words.
+
+"And what do they say, Monsieur?"
+
+"That she and her father have been socially ostracized. I should be
+proud to be her friend." Once the words were gone from him, he saw
+their silliness. "A presumptuous statement," he added; "I am an obscure
+foreigner."
+
+"Friendship, Monsieur, is a thing we all should prize, all the more so
+when it is disinterested."
+
+He said rapidly, for fear she might hear his teeth chatter: "They say
+she is very beautiful. Tell me what she is like."
+
+"I am no judge of what men call beauty. As to her character, I believe I
+may recommend that. She is good."
+
+He was sure that merriment twitched the corners of her lips, and he grew
+thoughtful. "Alexia. Is that not her Highness's name also?"
+
+"Yes, Monsieur; we have the same names." Her eyes fell, and she began to
+finger the pages of the book.
+
+"I am rested now," he said, with a sudden distrust. "I thank you."
+
+"Come, then, and I will show you the way to the gate."
+
+"I am sorry to have troubled you," he said.
+
+She did not reply, and together they walked up the path. The plants
+were dying, and the odor of decay hovered about them. Splashes of rich
+vermilion crowned the treetops, leaves of gold, russet and faded green
+rustled on the ground. The sun was gone behind the hills, the lake was
+tinted with salmon and dun, and Maurice (who honestly would have liked
+to run) was turning purple, not from atmospheric effect, but from the
+partly congealed state of his blood. Already he was thinking that his
+adventure had turned out rather well. It was but a simple task for a man
+of his imagination to construct a pretty romance, with a kingdom for a
+background. A maid of honor, perhaps; no matter, he would find means for
+future communication. A glamour had fallen upon him.
+
+As to the girl, who had scarce spoken to a dozen young men in her life,
+she was comparing four faces; one of a visionary character of which she
+had dreamed for ten years, and three which had recently entered into the
+small circle of her affairs. It was little pleasure to her to talk to
+those bald diplomats, who were always saying what they did not mean,
+and meaning what they did not say. And the young officers in the palace
+never presumed to address her unless spoken to.
+
+What a monotonous life it was! She was like a bird in a cage, ever
+longing for freedom, not of the air, but of impulse. To be permitted to
+yield to the impulses of the heart! What a delightful thought that was!
+But she, she seemed apart from all which was desirable to youth. Women
+courtesied to her, men touched their hats; but homage was not what she
+wanted. To be free, that was all; to come and go at will; to laugh and
+to sing. But ever the specter of royal dignity walked beside her and
+held her captive.
+
+She was to wed a man on whom she looked with indifference, but wed him
+she must; it was written. A toy of ambition, she was neither more nor
+less. Ah, to be as her maids, not royal, but free. Of the three new
+faces one belonged to the man whom she was to wed; another was a tall,
+light-haired man whom she had seen from her carriage; the last walked by
+her side. And somehow, the visionary face, the faces of the man whom
+she was to wed and the light-haired man suddenly grew indistinct. She
+glanced from the corner of her eyes at Maurice, but meeting his glance,
+in which lay something that caused her uneasiness, her gaze dropped to
+the path.
+
+"I shall be pleased to tell her Highness that a stranger, who has not
+met her, who does not even suspect her rebel spirit, desires to be her
+friend."
+
+"O, Mademoiselle," he cried in alarm, "that desire was expressed in
+confidence."
+
+"I know it. It is for that very reason I wish her to know. Have no fear,
+Monsieur;" and she laughed without mirth. "Her Highness will not send
+you to prison."
+
+Close at hand Maurice discovered a cuirassier, who, on seeing them,
+saluted and stood attention. Maurice was puzzled.
+
+"Lieutenant," said the girl, "Monsieur--Carewe?" turning to Maurice.
+
+"Yes, that is the name."
+
+"Well, then, Monsieur Carewe has met with an accident; please escort
+him to the gate. I trust you will not suffer any inconvenience from the
+cold. Good evening, Monsieur Carewe."
+
+She retraced her steps down the path. The bulldog followed. Once he
+looked back at Maurice, and stopped as if undecided, then went on.
+Maurice stared at the figure of the girl until it vanished behind a
+clump of rose bushes.
+
+"Well, Monsieur Carewe!" said the Lieutenant, a broad smile under his
+mustache.
+
+"I beg your pardon, Lieutenant. May I ask you who she is?"
+
+"What! You do not know?"
+
+Maurice suddenly saw light. "Her Royal Highness?" blankly.
+
+"Her Royal Highness, God bless her!" cried the Lieutenant heartily.
+
+"Amen to that," replied Maurice, his agitation visible even to the
+officer.
+
+They arrived at the gate in silence. The cuirassier raised the bar,
+touched his helmet, and said, with something like an amused twinkle in
+his eyes: "Would Monsieur like to borrow my helmet for a space?"
+
+Maurice put up a hand to his water-soaked hair, and gave an ejaculation
+of dismay. He had forgotten all about his hat, which was by now, in-all
+probabilities, at the bottom of the lake.
+
+"Curse the luck!" he said, in English.
+
+"Curse the want of it, I should say!" was the merry rejoinder, also in
+English.
+
+Maurice threw back his head and laughed, and the cuirassier caught the
+infection.
+
+"However, there is some compensation for the hat," said the cuirassier,
+straightening his helmet. "You are the first stranger who has spoken
+to her Highness this many a day. Did the dog take to your calves? Well,
+never mind; he has no teeth. It was only day before yesterday that the
+Marshal swore he'd have the dog shot. Poor dog! He is growing blind,
+too, or he'd never have risked his gums on the Marshal, who is all
+shins. If you will wait I will fetch you one of the archbishop's skull
+caps."
+
+"Don't trouble yourself," laughed Maurice. "What I need is not a hat,
+but a towel, and I'll get that at the hotel. George! I feel so like an
+ass. What is your name, Lieutenant?"
+
+"Von Mitter, Carl von Mitter, at your service. And you are Monsieur
+Carewe."
+
+"Of the American legation in Vienna. Thanks for your trouble."
+
+"None at all. You had better hurry along; your nails are growing black."
+
+Maurice passed into the street. "Her Royal Highness!" he muttered.
+"The crown princess, and I never suspected. Her name is Alexia, and she
+serves the princess whenever she can! Maurice, you are an ass!"
+
+Having arrived at this conclusion, and brushing the dank hair from his
+eyes, he thrust his hands into his oozing pockets, and proceeded
+across the square toward the Continental, wondering if there was a rear
+entrance. Happily the adventure absorbed all his thoughts. He was quite
+unobservant of the marked attention bestowed on him. Carriages filled
+the Strasse, and many persons moved along the walks. It was the
+promenade hour. The water, which still dripped from his clothes and
+trickled from his shoes, left a conspicuous trail behind; and this
+alone, without the absence of a hat, would have made him the object of
+amused and wondering smiles.
+
+A gendarme stared at him, but seeing that he walked straight, said
+nothing. Maurice, however, was serenely unaware of what was passing
+around him. He did not notice even the tall, broad-shouldered man who,
+with a gun under his arm, brushed past him, followed by a round-faced
+German over whose back was slung a game-bag. The man with the gun was
+also oblivious of his surroundings. He bumped into several persons,
+who scowled at him, but offered no remonstrance after having taken his
+measure. The German put his pipe into his pocket and advanced a step.
+
+"The other gun, Herr," he said, "would have meant the boar."
+
+"So it would, perhaps," was the reply.
+
+"We've done pretty good work these two days," went on the German; but
+as the other appeared not to have heard he fell to the rear again, a
+sardonic smile flitting over his oily face.
+
+When Maurice reached the hotel cafe he left an order for a cognac to
+be sent to his room, whither he repaired at once. As he got into dry
+clothes he mused.
+
+"I wonder what sort of a man that crown prince is? Now, if I were he,
+an army could not keep me away from Bleiberg. Either he is no judge
+of beauty, or the peasant girls hereabout are something extraordinary.
+Pshaw! a man always makes an ass of himself on his wedding eve; the
+crown prince is simply starting in early. I believe I'll hang on here
+till the wedding day; a royal marriage is one of those things which I
+have yet to see. I have a fortnight or more to knock around in. I should
+like to know what the duchess will eventually do."
+
+He sipped the last drop of the cognac and went down the stairs.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. BEHIND THE PUPPET BOOTH
+
+While the absent-minded hunter strode down toward the lower town, and
+Maurice sipped his cognac, the king lay in his bed in the palace and
+aimlessly fingered the counterpane. There was now no beauty in his face.
+It was furrowed and pale, and an endless fever burned in the sunken
+eyes--eyes like coals, which suddenly flare before they turn to ash.
+
+The archbishop nor the chancellor could see anything in the dim corners
+of the royal bed chamber, but he could. It was the mocking finger of
+death, and it was leveled at him. Spring had come, and summer and autumn
+and winter, and spring again, but he had not wandered through the green
+fields, except in dreams, and the byways he loved knew him no more. Ah,
+to sit still like a spectator and to see the world pass by! To be a part
+of it, and yet not of it! To see the glory of strength and vigor just
+beyond one's grasp, the staffs to lean on crumble to the touch, and the
+stars of hope fade away one by one from the firmament of one's dreams!
+Here was weariness for which there was no remedy.
+
+Day by day time pressed him on toward the inevitable. No human hand
+could stay him. He could think, but he could not act. He could move, but
+he could not stand nor walk. And that philosophy which had in other days
+sustained him was shattered and threadbare. He was dead, yet he lived.
+Fate has so many delicate ironies.
+
+He had tried to make his people love him, only to acquire their hate.
+He had reduced taxation, only to be scorned. He had made the city
+beautiful, only to be cursed. A paralytic, the theme of ribald verse,
+the butt of wineroom wits, the object of contumely to his people, his
+beneficiaries!
+
+The ingratitude of kings bites not half so deep as the ingratitude of
+the people. Tears filled his eyes, and he fumbled his lips. There were
+only two bright spots in his futile life. The first was his daughter,
+who read to him, who was the first in the morning to greet him and
+last at night to leave him. The second was the evening hour when the
+archbishop and the chancellor came in to discuss the affairs of state.
+
+"And Prince Frederick has not yet been heard from?" was his first
+inquiry.
+
+"No, Sire," answered the chancellor. "The matter is altogether
+mysterious. The police can find no trace of him. He left Carnavia for
+Bleiberg; he stopped at Ehrenstein, directed his suite to proceed;
+there, all ends. The ambassador from Carnavia approached me to-day. He
+scouts the idea of a peasant girl, and hinted at other things."
+
+"Yes," said the king, "there is something behind all this. Frederick is
+not a youth of peccadilloes. Something has happened to him. But God send
+him safe and sound to us, so much depends on him. And Alexia?"
+
+"Says nothing," the archbishop answered, "a way with her when troubled."
+
+"And my old friend, Lord Fitzgerald?"
+
+The prelate shook his head sadly. "We have just been made acquainted
+with his death. God rest his kindly soul."
+
+The king sank deeper into his pillows.
+
+"But we shall hear from his son within a few days," continued the
+prelate, taking the king's hand in his own. "My son, cease to worry.
+Alexia's future is in good hands. I have confidence that the public debt
+will be liquidated on the twentieth."
+
+"Or renewed," said the chancellor. "Your Majesty must not forget that
+Prince Frederick sacrifices his own private fortune to adjust our
+indebtedness. That is the wedding gift which he offers to her Highness.
+One way or the other, we have nothing to fear."
+
+
+"O!" cried the king, "I had forgotten that magnanimity. His
+disappearance is no longer a mystery. He is dead."
+
+His auditors could not repress the start which this declaration caused
+them to make.
+
+"Sire," said the chancellor, quietly, "princes are not assassinated
+these days. Our worry is perhaps all needless. The prince is young, and
+sometimes youth flings off the bridle and runs away. But he loves her
+Highness, and the Carnavians are not fickle."
+
+The prelate and the statesman had different ideas in regard to the
+peasant girl. To the prelate a woman was an unknown quantity, and he
+frowned. The statesman, who had once been young, knew a deal about
+woman, and he smiled.
+
+"Sometimes, my friends," said the king, "I can see beyond the human
+glance. I hear the crumbling of walls. But for that lonely child I could
+die in peace. The crown I wear is of lead; God hasten the day that lifts
+it from my brow." When the king spoke again, he said: "And that insolent
+Von Rumpf is gone at last? I am easier. He should have been sent about
+his business ten years ago. What does Madame the duchess say?"
+
+"So little," answered the chancellor, "that I begin to distrust her
+silence. But she is a wise woman, though her years are but five and
+twenty, and she will not make any foolish declaration of war which would
+only redound to her chagrin."
+
+"What is the fascination in these crowns of straw?" said the king to the
+prelate. "Ah, my father, you strive for the crown to come; and yet your
+earnest but misguided efforts placed this earthly one on my head. You
+were ambitious for me."
+
+"Nay," and the prelate bent his head. "It was self that spoke, worldly
+aggrandizement. I wished--God forgive me!--to administer not to the
+prince but to the king. I am punished. The crown has broken your life.
+It was the passing glory of the world; and I fell."
+
+"And were not my eyes as dazzled by the crown as yours were by the
+robes? Why did we leave the green hills of Osia? What destiny writes,
+fate must unfold. And oh, the dreams I had of being great! I am
+fifty-eight and you are seventy. And look; I am a broken twig, and you
+tower above me like an ancient oak, and as strong." To the chancellor he
+said: "And what is the budget?"
+
+"Sire, it is fairly quiet in the lower town. The native troops have been
+paid, and all signs of discontent abated. The duchess can do nothing but
+replace von Rumpf. The Marshal is a straw in the wind; von Wallenstein
+and Mollendorf, I hold a sword above their necks. Nearly half the
+Diet is with us. There has been some strange meddling in the customs.
+Englishmen have brought me complaints, through the British legation,
+regarding such inspections as were never before heard of in a country
+at peace. I consulted the chief inspector and he affirmed the matter.
+He was under orders of the minister of police. It appears to me that
+a certain Englishman is to be kept out of the country for reasons well
+known to us. I have suspended police power over the customs. Ah, Sire,
+if you would but agree with Monseigneur to dismiss the cabinet."
+
+"It is too late," said the king.
+
+"There is only one flaw," continued the chancellor. "This flaw is
+Colonel Beauvais, chief in command of the cuirassiers, who in authority
+stands between the Marshal and General Kronau. I fear him. Why?
+Instinct. He is too well informed of my projects for one thing; he
+laughs when I suggest in military affairs. Who is he? A Frenchman, if
+one may trust to a name; an Austrian, if one may trust from whence he
+came, recommended by the premier himself. He entered the cuirassiers as
+a Captain. You yourself, Sire, made him what he is--the real military
+adviser of the kingdom. But what of his past? No one knows, unless it be
+von Wallenstein, his intimate. I, for one, while I may be wrong, trust
+only those whose past I know, and even then only at intervals."
+
+"Colonel Beauvais?" murmured the king. "I am sure that you are unjustly
+suspicious. How many times have I leaned on his stout arm! He taught
+Alexia a thousand tricks of horse, so that to-day she rides as no other
+woman in the kingdom rides. Would that I stood half so straight and
+looked at the world half so fearlessly. He is the first soldier in the
+kingdom."
+
+"All men are honest in your Majesty's eyes," said the archbishop.
+
+"All save the man within me," replied the king.
+
+At this juncture the king's old valet came in with the evening meal; and
+soon after the prelate and the chancellor withdrew from the chamber.
+
+"How long will he live?" asked the latter.
+
+"A year; perhaps only till to-morrow. Ah, had he but listened to me
+several years ago, all this would not have come to pass. He would
+see nothing; he persisted in dreams. With the death of Josef he was
+convinced that his enemies had ceased to be. Had he listened, I should
+have dismissed the cabinet, and found enough young blood to answer
+my purposes; I should have surrounded him with a mercenary army two
+thousand strong; by now he should have stood strongly entrenched.
+
+"They have robbed him, but you and I were permitted to do nothing. Where
+is the prosperity of which we formerly boasted? I, too, hear crumbling
+walls. Yet, the son of this Englishman, whose strange freak is still
+unaccountable, will come at the appointed time; I know the race. He will
+renew the loan for another ten years. What a fancy! Lord Fitzgerald was
+an eccentric man. Given a purpose, he pursued it to the end, neither
+love nor friendship, nor fear swerved him. Do you know that he made
+a vow that Duke Josef should never sit on this throne, nor his
+descendants? What were five millions to him, if in giving them he
+realized the end? The king would never explain the true cause of this
+Englishman's folly, but I know that it was based on revenge, the cause
+of which also is a mystery. If only the prince were here!"
+
+"He will come; youth will be youth."
+
+"Perhaps."
+
+"You have never been young."
+
+"Not in that particular sense to which you refer," dryly.
+
+* * * * * *
+
+In the chamber of finance Colonel Beauvais leaned over the desk and
+perused the writing on a slip of paper which the minister had given him.
+Enough daylight remained to permit the letters to stand out legibly.
+When he had done the Colonel tossed back the missive, and the minister
+tore it into shreds and dropped them into the waste basket.
+
+"So much for your pains," said Beauvais. "The spy, who has eaten up ten
+thousand crowns, is not worth his salt. He has watched this man Hamilton
+for two days, been his guide in the hills, and yet learns nothing. And
+the rigor of the customs is a farce."
+
+"This day," replied the minister, "the police lost its jurisdiction over
+the customs. Complaints have been entered at the British legation, which
+forwarded them to the chancellor."
+
+"O ho!" The Colonel pulled his mustache.
+
+"I warned you against this. The chancellor is a man to be respected,
+whatever his beliefs. I warned you and Mollendorf of the police what the
+result would be. The chancellor has a hard hand when it falls. He was
+always bold; now he is more so since he practically stands alone. In
+games of chance one always should play close. You are in a hurry."
+
+"I have waited six years."
+
+"And I have waited fourteen."
+
+"Well, then, I shall pass into the active. I shall watch this Englishman
+myself. He is likely to prove the agent. Count, the time for waiting
+is gone. If the debt is liquidated or renewed--and there is Prince
+Frederick to keep in mind--we shall have played and lost. Disgrace for
+you; for me--well, perhaps there is a power behind me too strong.
+The chancellor? Pouf! I have no fear of him. But you who laugh at the
+archbishop--"
+
+"He is too old."
+
+"So you say. But he has dreams unknown to us. He has ceased to act;
+why? He is waiting for the curtain to rise. Nothing escapes him; he is
+letting us go to what end we will, only, if we do not act at once,
+to draw us to a sudden halt. Now to this meddling Englishman: we have
+offered him a million--five millions for four. He laughs. He is a
+millionaire. With characteristic bombast he declares that money has no
+charms. For six months, since his father's death, we have hounded him,
+in vain. It is something I can not understand. What is Leopold to these
+Englishmen that they risk a princely fortune to secure him his throne?
+Friendship? Bah, there is none."
+
+"Not in France nor in Austria. But this man was an Englishman; they
+leave legacies of friendship."
+
+The Colonel walked to the window and looked down into the gardens. He
+remained there for a time. Von Wallenstein eyed him curiously. Presently
+the soldier returned to his seat.
+
+"We are crossing a chasm; a man stands in our way; as we can not go
+around him, we, being the stronger, push him aside. Eh?"
+
+"You would not kill--" began the minister.
+
+"Let us use the French meaning of the word `suppress.' And why not?
+Ambition, wherever it goes, leaves a trail of blood. What is a human
+life in this game we play? A leaf, a grain of sand."
+
+"But, since the prince promises to liquidate the debt, what matters it
+if the Englishman comes? It is all one and the same."
+
+"Within twenty, nay, within fifteen days, what may not happen?"
+
+"You are ambitious," said von Wallenstein, slyly.
+
+"And who is not?"
+
+"Is a Marshal's baton so much, then, above your present position? You
+are practically the head of the army."
+
+"A valiant army!" laughing; "five thousand men. Why, Madame the duchess
+has six thousand and three batteries."
+
+"Her army of six thousand is an expedient; you can raise volunteers to
+the amount of ten thousand."
+
+"To be sure I could; but supposing I did not want to?"
+
+The minister dropped his gaze and began fingering the paper cutter. The
+Colonel's real purpose was still an enigma to him. "Come, you have the
+confidence of the king, the friendship of her Royal Highness. What do
+you gain in serving us? The baton?"
+
+"You embarrass me. Questions? I should not like to lie to you. Batons
+were fine things when Louises and Napoleons conferred them. I have
+thrown my dice into the common cup; let that be sufficient."
+
+"A man who comes from a noble house such as you come from--"
+
+"Ah, count, that was never to be referred to. Be content with my brain
+and sword. And then, there is the old saying, Give a man an ell, and
+look to your rod. We are all either jackals or lions, puppets or men
+behind the booth. I am a lion." He rose, drew his saber half-way from
+the scabbard, and sent it slithering back. "In a fortnight we put it
+to the touch to win or lose it all, as the poet says. Every man for
+himself, and let the strongest win, say I."
+
+"You are playing two games," coldly.
+
+"And you? Is it for pure love of Madame the duchess that you risk your
+head? Come, as you say; admit that you wish to see my hand without
+showing yours. A baton is not much for me, as you have hinted, but it is
+all that was promised me. And you, if we win, will still be minister of
+finances? What is that maggot I see behind your eyes? Is it not spelled
+`chancellor'? But, remember, Madame has friends to take care of in
+the event of our success. We can not have all the spoils. To join the
+kingdom and the duchy will create new offices, to be sure, but we can
+have only part of them. As to games, I shall, out of the kindness in my
+heart, tell you that I am not playing two, but three. Guess them if you
+can. Next to the chancellorship is the embassy to Vienna, and an embassy
+to Paris is to be created. Madame is a superior woman. Who knows?" with
+a smile that caused the other to pale.
+
+"You are mad to dream of that."
+
+"As you say, I come of a noble house," carelessly.
+
+"You are mad."
+
+"No, count," the soldier replied. "I have what Balzac calls a thirst for
+a full life in a short space."
+
+"I would give a deal to read what is going on in that head of yours."
+
+"Doubtless. But what is to become of our friends the Marshal and
+Mollendorf? What will be left for them? Perhaps there will be a chamber
+of war, a chamber of the navy. As a naval minister the Marshal would
+be nicely placed. There would be no expense of building ships or paying
+sailors, which would speak well for the economy of the new government.
+The Marshal is old; we shall send him to Servia. At least the office
+will pay both his vanity and purse to an extent equal to that of his
+present office. By the way, nothing has yet been heard from Prince
+Frederick. Ah, these young men, these plump peasant girls!"
+
+Both laughed.
+
+"Till this evening, then;" and the Colonel went from the room.
+
+The minister of finance applied a match to the tapers. He held the
+burning match aloft and contemplated the door through which the soldier
+had gone. The sting of the incipient flame aroused him.
+
+"What," he mused aloud, as he arranged the papers on his desk, "is his
+third game?"
+
+"It appears to me," said a voice from the wall behind, "that the same
+question arises in both our minds."
+
+The minister wheeled his chair, his mouth and brows puckered in dismay.
+From a secret panel in the wall there stepped forth a tall, thin,
+sour-visaged old man of military presence. He calmly sat down in the
+chair which Beauvais had vacated.
+
+"I had forgotten all about you, Marshal!" exclaimed the count, smiling
+uneasily.
+
+"A statement which I am most ready to believe," replied old Marshal
+Kampf, with a glance which caused the minister yet more uneasiness.
+"What impressed me among other things was, `But what is to become of our
+friends the Marshal and Mollendorf?' I am Marshal; I am about to risk
+all for nothing. Why should I not remain Marshal for the remainder of
+my days? It is a pleasant thing to go to Vienna once the year and to
+witness the maneuvers, with an honorary position on the emperor's staff.
+To be Marshal here is to hold a sinecure, yet it has its compensations.
+The uniforms, gray and gold, are handsome; it is an ostrich plume that I
+wear in my chapeau de bras; the medals are of gold. My friend, it is the
+vanity of old age which forgives not." And the Marshal, the bitterest
+tongue in all Bleiberg, reached over and picked up the cigar which lay
+by the inkwells. He lit it at one of the tapers, and sank again into the
+chair. "Count, how many games are you playing?"
+
+"My dear Marshal, it was not I who spoke of games. I am playing no game,
+save for the legitimate sovereign of this kingdom. I ask for no reward."
+
+"Disinterested man! The inference is, however, that, since you have not
+asked for anything, you have been promised something. Confess it, and
+have done."
+
+"Marshal!"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Is it possible that you suspect me?" The cold eyes grew colder, and the
+thin lips almost disappeared.
+
+"When three men watch each other as do Beauvais, Mollendorf and you, it
+is because each suspects the other of treachery. You haven't watched
+me because I am old, but because I am old I have been watching
+you. Mollendorf aspires to greatness, you have your gaze on the
+chancellorship, and curse me if the Colonel isn't looking after my old
+shoes! Am I to give up my uniform, my medals and my plume--for nothing?
+And who the devil is this man Beauvais, since that is not his name? Is
+he a fine bird whose feathers have been plucked?"
+
+The minister did not respond to the question; he began instead to fidget
+in his chair.
+
+"When I gave my word to his Highness the duke, it was without
+conditions. I asked no favors; I considered it my duty. Let us come to
+an understanding. Material comfort is necessary to a man of my age.
+Fine phrases and a medal or two more do not count. I am, then, to go to
+Servia. You were very kind to hide me in your cabinet."
+
+"It was to show you that I had no secrets from you," quickly.
+
+"Let us pass on. Mollendorf is to go to Paris, where he will be a
+nonentity, while in his present office he is a power in the land--Devil
+take me, but it seems to me that we are all a pack of asses! Our gains
+will not be commensurate with our losses. The navy? Well, we'll let that
+pass; the Colonel, I see, loves a joke."
+
+"You forget our patriotism for the true house."
+
+"Why not give it its true name--self-interest?"
+
+"Marshal, in heaven's name, what has stirred your bile?" The minister
+was losing his patience, a bad thing for him to do in the presence of
+the old warrior.
+
+"It is something I've been swallowing this past year." The Marshal
+tipped the ash of his cigar into the waste basket.
+
+"Marshal, will you take the word not of the minister, but of the von
+Wallenstein, that whatever my reward shall be for my humble services,
+yours shall not be less?"
+
+"Thanks, but I have asked for no reward. If I accepted gain for what I
+do, I should not be too old to blush."
+
+"I do not understand."
+
+"Self-interest blinds us. I have nothing but pity for this king whose
+only crime is an archbishop; and I can not accept gain at his expense; I
+should blush for shame. Had I my way, he should die in peace. He has
+not long to live. The archbishop--well, we can not make kings, they are
+born. But there is one thing more: Over all your schemes is the shadow
+of Austria."
+
+"Austria?"
+
+"Yes. The Colonel speaks of a power behind him. Bismarck looks
+hungrily toward Schleswig-Holstein. Austria casts amorous eyes at us.
+A protectorate? We did not need it. It was forced on us. When Austria
+assumed to dictate to us as to who should be king, she also robbed us of
+our true independence. Twenty years ago there was no duchy; it was all
+one kingdom. Who created this duchy when Albrecht came on the throne?
+Austria. Why? If we live we shall read." He rose, shook his lean legs.
+"I have been for the most part neutral. I shall remain neutral. There is
+an undercurrent on which you have failed to reckon. Austria, mistress
+of the confederation. There are two men whom you must watch. One is the
+archbishop."
+
+"The archbishop?" The minister was surprised that the Marshal should
+concur with the Colonel. "And the other?"
+
+"Your friend the Colonel," starting for the door.
+
+The minister smiled. "Will you not dine with me?" he asked.
+
+"Thanks. But I have the Servian minister on my hands to-night. A propos,
+tell the Colonel that I decline Belgrade. I prefer to die at home." And
+he vanished.
+
+Von Wallenstein reviewed the statements of both his visitors.
+
+"I shall watch Monseigneur the archbishop." Then he added, with a
+half-smile: "God save us if the Marshal's sword were half so sharp as
+his tongue! It was careless of me to forget that I had shut him up in
+the cabinet."
+
+Meanwhile Beauvais walked slowly toward his quarters, with his saber
+caught up under his arm. Once he turned and gazed at the palace, whose
+windows began to flash with light.
+
+"Yes, they are puppets and jackals, and I am the lion. For all there
+shall serve my ends. I shall win, and when I do--" He laughed silently.
+"Well, I am a comely man, and Madame the duchess shall be my wife."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. MADEMOISELLE OF THE VEIL
+
+The public park at night was a revelation to Maurice, who, lonely and
+restless, strolled over from the hotel in quest of innocent amusement.
+He was none the worse for his unintended bath; indeed, if anything,
+he was much the better for it. His imagination was excited. It was not
+every day that a man could, at one and the same time, fall out of a boat
+and into the presence of a princess of royal blood.
+
+He tried to remember all he had said to her, but only two utterances
+recurred to him; yet these caused him an exhilaration like the bouquet
+of old wine. He had told her that she was beautiful, indirectly, it was
+true; she had accepted his friendship, also indirectly, it was true. Now
+the logical sequence of all this was--but he broke into a light laugh.
+What little vanity he possessed was without conceit. Princesses of royal
+blood were beyond the reach of logical sequence; and besides, she was to
+be married on the twentieth of the month.
+
+He followed one of the paths which led to the pavilion. It was a
+charming scene, radiant with gas lamps, the vivid kaleidoscope of gowns
+and uniforms. Beautiful faces flashed past him. There were in the air
+the vague essences of violet, rose and heliotrope. Sometimes he caught
+the echo of low laughter or the snatch of a gay song. The light of
+the lamps shot out on the crinkled surface of the lake in tongues of
+quivering flame, which danced a brave gavot with the phantom stars; and
+afar twinkled the dipping oars. The brilliant pavilion, which rested
+partly over land and partly over water, was thronged.
+
+The band was playing airs from the operas of the day, and Maurice
+yielded to the spell of the romantic music. He leaned over the pavilion
+rail, and out of the blackness below he endeavored to conjure up the
+face of Nell (or was it Kate?) who had danced with him at the embassies
+in Vienna, fenced and ridden with him, till--till--with a gesture of
+impatience he flung away the end of his cigar.
+
+Memory was altogether too elusive. It was neither Nell nor Kate he
+saw smiling up at him, nor anybody else in the world but the Princess
+Alexia, whose eyes were like wine in a sunset, whose lips were as red
+as the rose of Tours in France, and whose voice was sweeter than that
+throbbing up from the 'cello. If he thought much more of her, there
+would be a logical sequence on his side. He laughed again--with an
+effort--and settled back in his chair to renew his interest in the
+panorama revolving around him.
+
+"They certainly know how to live in these countries," he thought,
+"for all their comic operas. All I need, to have this fairy scene made
+complete, is a woman to talk to. By George, what's to hinder me from
+finding one?" he added, seized by the spirit of mischief. He turned
+his head this way and that. "Ah! doubtless there is the one I'm looking
+for."
+
+Seated alone at a table behind him was a woman dressed in gray. Her
+back was toward him, but he lost none of the beautiful contours of her
+figure. She wore a gray alpine hat, below the rim of which rebellious
+little curls escaped, curls of a fine red-brown, which, as they trailed
+to the nape of the firm white neck, lightened into a ruddy gold. Her
+delicate head was turned aside, and to all appearances her gaze was
+directed to the entrance to the pavilion. A heavy blue veil completely
+obscured her features; though Maurice could see a rose-tinted ear and
+the shadow of a curving chin and throat, which promised much. To a man
+there is always a mystery lurking behind a veil. So he rose, walked past
+her, returned and deliberately sat down in the chair opposite to hers.
+The fact that gendarmes moved among the crowd did not disturb him.
+
+"Good evening, Mademoiselle," he said, politely lifting his hat.
+
+She straightened haughtily. "Monsieur," she said, resentment,
+consternation and indignation struggling to predominate in her tones, "I
+did not give you permission to sit down. You are impertinent!"
+
+"O, no," Maurice declared. "I am not impertinent. I am lonesome. In all
+Bleiberg I haven't a soul to talk to, excepting the hotel waiters, and
+they are uninteresting. Grant me the privilege of conversing with you
+for a moment. We shall never meet again; and I should not know you if we
+did. Whether you are old or young, plain or beautiful, it matters not.
+My only wish is to talk to a woman, to hear a woman's voice."
+
+"Shall I call a gendarme, Monsieur, and have him search for your nurse?"
+The attitude which accompanied these words was anything but assuring.
+
+He, however, evinced no alarm. He even laughed. "That was good! We shall
+get along finely, I am sure."
+
+"Monsieur," she said, rising, "I repeat that I do not desire your
+company, nor to remain in the presence of your unspeakable effrontery."
+
+"I beseech you!" implored Maurice, also rising. "I am a foreigner,
+lonesome, unhappy, thousands of miles from home--"
+
+"You are English?" suddenly. She stood with the knuckle of her
+forefinger on her lips as if meditating. She sat down.
+
+Maurice, greatly surprised, also sat down.
+
+"English?" he repeated. His thought was: "What the deuce! This is the
+third time I have been asked that. Who is this gay Lothario the women
+seem to be expecting?" To her he continued: "And why do you ask me
+that?"
+
+"Perhaps it is your accent. And what do you wish to say to me,
+Monsieur?" It was a voice of quality; all the anger had gone from it.
+She leaned on her elbows, her chin in her palms, and through the veil
+he caught the sparkle of a pair of wonderful eyes. "Let us converse in
+English," she added. "It is so long since I have had occasion to speak
+in that tongue." She repeated her question.
+
+"O, I had no definite plan outlined," he answered; "just generalities,
+with the salt of repartee to season." He pondered over this sudden
+transition from wrath to mildness. An Englishman? Very well; it might
+grow interesting.
+
+"Is it customary among the English to request to speak to strangers
+without the usual formalities of an introduction?"
+
+"I can not say that it is," he answered truthfully enough; "but the
+procedure is never without a certain charm and excitement."
+
+"Ah; then you were led to address me merely by the love of adventure?"
+
+"That is it; the love of adventure. I should not have spoken to you had
+you not worn the veil." He remarked that her English was excellent.
+
+"You differ from the average Englishman, who is usually wrapt up
+in himself and has no desire to talk to strangers. You have been a
+soldier."
+
+The evolutions of his cane ceased. "How in the world did you guess
+that?" surprised beyond measure.
+
+"Perhaps there is something suggestive in your shoulders."
+
+He tried to peer behind the veil, but in vain. "Am I speaking to one I
+have met before?"
+
+"I believe not; indeed, sir, I am positive."
+
+"I have been a soldier, but my shoulders did not tell you that."
+
+"Perhaps I have the gift of clairvoyance," gazing again toward the
+entrance.
+
+"Or perhaps you have been to Vienna."
+
+"Who knows? Most Englishmen are, or have been, soldiers."
+
+"That is true." Inwardly, "There's my friend the Englishman again. She's
+guessing closer than she knows. Curious; she has mistaken me for some
+one she does not know, if that is possible." He was somewhat in a
+haze. "Well, you have remarkable eyes. However, let us talk of a more
+interesting subject; for instance, yourself. You, too, love adventure,
+that is, if I interpret the veil rightly."
+
+"Yes; I like to see without being seen. But, of course, behind this love
+of adventure which you possess, there is an important mission."
+
+"Ah!" he thought; "you are not quite sure of me." Aloud, "Yes, I came
+here to witness the comic opera."
+
+"The comic opera? I do not understand?"
+
+"I believed there was going to be trouble between the duchy and the
+kingdom, but unfortunately the prima donna has refused the part."
+
+"The prima donna!" in a muffled voice. "Whom do you mean?"
+
+"Son Altesse la Grande Duchesse! 'Voici le sabre de mon pere!'" And he
+whistled a bar from Offenbach, his eyes dancing.
+
+"Sir!--I!--you do wrong to laugh at us!" a flash from the half-hidden
+eyes.
+
+"Forgive me if I have offended you, but I--"
+
+"Ah, sir, but you who live in a powerful country think we little folk
+have no hearts, that we have no wrongs to redress, no dreams of conquest
+and of power. You are wrong."
+
+"And whose side do you defend?"
+
+"I am a woman," was the equivocal answer.
+
+"Which means that you are uncertain."
+
+"I have long ago made up my mind."
+
+"Wonderful! I always thought a woman's mind was like a time-table,
+subject to change without notice. So you have made up your mind?"
+
+"I was born with its purpose defined," coldly.
+
+"Ah, now I begin to doubt."
+
+"What?" with a still lower degree of warmth.
+
+"That you are a woman. Only goddesses do not change their
+minds--sometimes. Well, then you are on the weaker side."
+
+"Or the stronger, since there are two sides."
+
+"And the stronger?" persistently.
+
+"The side which is not the weaker. But the subject is what you English
+call 'taboo.' It is treading on delicate ground to talk politics in the
+open--especially in Bleiberg."
+
+"What a diplomat you would make!" he cried with enthusiasm. Certainly
+this was a red-letter day in his calendar. This adventure almost
+equalled the other, and, besides, in this instance, his skin was dry; he
+could enjoy it more thoroughly. Who could this unknown be? "If only you
+understood the mystery with which you have enshrouded yourself!"
+
+"I do." She drew the veil more firmly about her chin.
+
+"Grant me a favor."
+
+"I am talking to you, sir."
+
+This candor did not disturb him. "The favor I ask is that you will lift
+the corner of your veil; otherwise you will haunt me."
+
+"I am doomed to haunt you, then. If I should lift the corner of my veil
+something terrible would happen."
+
+"What! Are you as beautiful as that?"
+
+There was a flash of teeth behind the veil, followed by the ripple of
+soft laughter. "It is difficult to believe you to be English. You are
+more like one of those absurd Americans."
+
+Maurice did not like the adjective. "I am one of them," wondering what
+the effect of this admission would be. "I am not English, but of the
+brother race. Forgive me if I have imposed on you, but it was your
+fault. You said that I was English, and I was too lonesome to enlighten
+you."
+
+"You are an American?" She began to tap her gloved fingers against the
+table.
+
+"Yes."
+
+Then, to his astonishment, she gave way to laughter, honest and hearty.
+"How dense of me not to have known the moment you addressed me! Who
+but the American holds in scorn custom's formalities and usages? Your
+grammar is good, so good that my mistake is pardonable. The American is
+always like the terrible infant; and you are a choice example."
+
+Maurice was not so pleased as he might have been. His ears burned.
+Still, he went forward bravely. "A man never pretends to be an
+Englishman without getting into trouble."
+
+"I did not ask to speak to you. No one ever pretends to be an American.
+Why is it you are always ashamed of your country?" with malice
+aforethought.
+
+Maurice experienced the sting of many bees. "I see that your experience
+is limited to impostors. I, Mademoiselle, am proud of my country, the
+great, free land which stands aside from the turmoil and laughs at your
+petty squabbles, your kings, your princes. Laugh at me; I deserve it for
+not minding my own business, but do not laugh at my country." His face
+was flushed; he was almost angry. It was not her words; it was the
+contempt with which she had invested them. But immediately he was
+ashamed of his outburst. "Ah, Mademoiselle, you have tricked me; you
+have found the vulnerable part in my armor. I have spoken like a child.
+Permit me to apologize for my apparent lack of breeding." He rose,
+bowed, and made as though to depart.
+
+"Sit down, Monsieur," she said, picking up her French again. "I forgive
+you. I do more; I admire. I see that your freak had nothing behind it
+but mischief. No woman need fear a man who colors when his country is
+made the subject of a jest."
+
+All his anger evaporated. This was an invitation, and he accepted it. He
+resumed his seat.
+
+"The truth is, as I remarked, I was lonesome. I know that I have
+committed a transgression, but the veil tempted me."
+
+"It is of no matter. A few moments, and you will be gone. I am waiting
+for some one. You may talk till that person comes." Her voice was now
+in its natural tone; and he was convinced that if her face were half
+as sweet, she must possess rare beauty. "Hush!" as the band began to
+breathe forth Chopin's polonaise. They listened until the music ceased.
+
+"Ah!" said he rapturously, "the polonaise! When you hear it, does there
+not recur to you some dream of bygone happy hours, the sibilant murmur
+of fragrant night winds through the crisp foliage, the faint call
+of Diana's horn from the woodlands, moon-fairies dancing on the
+spider-webs, the glint of the dew on the roses, the far-off music of the
+surges tossing impotently on the sands, the forgetfulness of time and
+place and care, and not a cloud 'twixt you and the heavens? Ah, the
+polonaise!"
+
+"Surely you must be a poet!" declared the Veil, when this panegyric was
+done.
+
+"No," said he modestly, "I never was quite poor enough for that exalted
+position." He had recovered his good humor.
+
+"Indeed, you begin to interest me. What is your occupation when not in
+search of--comic operas?"
+
+"I serve Ananias."
+
+"Ananias?" A pause. "Ah, you are a diplomat?"
+
+"How clever of you to guess."
+
+"Yours is a careless country," observed the Veil.
+
+"Careless?" mystified.
+
+"Yes, to send forth her green and salad youth. Eh, bien! There are
+hopes for you. If you live you will grow old; you will become bald and
+reserved; you will not speak to strangers, to while away an idle hour;
+for permit me, Monsieur, who am wise, to tell you that it is a dangerous
+practice."
+
+"And do I look so very young?"
+
+"Your beard is that of a boy."
+
+"David slew Goliath."
+
+"At least you have a ready tongue," laughing.
+
+"And you told me that I had been a soldier."
+
+But to this she had nothing to say.
+
+"I am older than you think, Mademoiselle of the Veil. I have been a
+soldier; I have seen hard service, too. Mine is no cushion sword. Youth?
+'Tis a virtue, not a crime; and, besides, it is an excellent disguise."
+
+For some time she remained pensive.
+
+"You are thinking of something, Mademoiselle."
+
+"Do you like adventure?"
+
+"I subsist on it."
+
+"You have been a soldier; you are, then, familiar with the use of arms?"
+
+"They tell me so," modestly. What was coming?
+
+"I have some influence. May I trust you?"
+
+"On my honor," puzzled, yet eager.
+
+"There may be a comic opera, as you call it. War is not so impossible as
+to be laughed at. The dove may fly away and the ravens come."
+
+"Who in thunder might this woman be?" he thought.
+
+"And," went on the Veil, "an extra saber might be used. Give me your
+address, in case I should find it necessary to send for you."
+
+Now Maurice was a wary youth. Under ordinary circumstances he would have
+given a fictitious address to this strange sybil with the prophecy of
+war; for he had accosted her only in the spirit of fun. But here was the
+key which he had been seeking, the key to all that had brought him to
+Bleiberg. Intrigue, adventure, or whatever it was, and to whatever end,
+he plunged into it. He drew out a card case, selected a card on which he
+wrote "Room 12, Continental," and passed it over the table. She read it,
+and slipped it into her purse.
+
+Maurice thought: "Who wouldn't join the army with such recruiting
+officers?"
+
+While the pantomime took place, a man pushed by Maurice's chair and
+crossed over to the table recently occupied by him. He sat down, lit
+a short pipe, rested his feet on the lowest rung of the ladder-like
+railing, and contemplated the western hills, which by now were enveloped
+in moon mists. Neither Maurice nor his mysterious vis-a-vis remarked
+him. Indeed, his broad back afforded but small attraction. And if he
+puffed his pipe fiercely, nobody cared, since the breeze carried the
+smoke waterward.
+
+After putting the card into her purse, Mademoiselle of the Veil's gaze
+once more wandered toward the entrance, and this time it grew fixed.
+Maurice naturally followed it, and he saw a tall soldier in fatigue
+dress elbowing his way through the crush. Many moved aside for him;
+those in uniform saluted.
+
+"Monsieur," came from behind the veil, "you may go now. I dismiss you.
+If I have need of you I promise to send for you."
+
+He stood up. "I thank you for the entertainment and the promise you
+extend. I shall be easily found," committing himself to nothing. "I
+suppose you are a person of importance in affairs."
+
+"It is not unlikely. I see that you love adventure for its own sake,
+for you have not asked me if it be the duchy or the kingdom. Adieu,
+Monsieur," with a careless wave of the gray-gloved hand. "Adieu!"
+
+He took his dismissal heroically and shot a final glance at the
+approaching soldier. His brows came together.
+
+"Where," he murmured, "have I seen that picturesque countenance before?
+Not in Europe; but where?" He caught the arm of a passing gendarme. "Who
+is that gentleman in fatigue uniform, coming this way?"
+
+"That, Monsieur," answered the gendarme in tones not unmixed with awe,
+"is Colonel Beauvais of the royal cuirassiers."
+
+"Thanks.... Beauvais; I do not remember the name. Truly I have had
+experiences to-day. And for what house is Mademoiselle of the Veil?
+Ravens? War? `Voici le sabre de mon pyre!'" and with a gay laugh he went
+his way.
+
+Meanwhile Colonel Beauvais arrived at the table, tipped his hat to the
+Veil, who rose and laid a hand on his arm. He guided her through the
+pressing crowds.
+
+"Ah, Madame," he said, "you are very brave to choose such a rendezvous."
+
+"Danger is a tonic to the ill-spirited," was the reply.
+
+"If aught should happen to you--"
+
+"It was in accord with her wishes that I am here. She suffers from
+impatience; and I would risk much to satisfy her whims."
+
+"So would I, Madame; even life." There was a tremor of passion in his
+voice, but she appeared not to notice it. "Here is a nook out of the
+lights; we may talk here with safety."
+
+"And what is the news?" she asked.
+
+"This: The man remains still in obscurity. But he shall be found.
+Listen," and his voice fell into a whisper.
+
+"Austria?" Mademoiselle of the Veil pressed her hands together in
+excitement. "Is it true?"
+
+"Did I not promise you? It is so true that the end is in sight.
+Conspiracy is talked openly in the streets, in the cafes, everywhere.
+The Osians will be sand in the face of a tidal wave. A word from me,
+and Kronau follows it. It all would be so easy were it not for the
+archbishop."
+
+"The archbishop?" contemptuously.
+
+"Ay, Madame; he is a man so deep, with a mind so abyssmal, that I would
+give ten years of my life for a flash of his thoughts. He has some
+project; apparently he gives his whole time to the king. He loves this
+weak man Leopold; he has sacrificed the red hat for him, for the
+hat would have taken him to Italy, as we who procured it intended it
+should."
+
+"The archbishop? Trust me; one month from now he will be recalled. That
+is the news I have for you."
+
+"You have taken a weight from my mind. What do you think in regard to
+the rumor of the prince and the peasant girl?"
+
+"It afforded me much amusement. You are a man of fine inventions."
+
+"Gaze toward the upper end of the pavilion, the end which we have
+just left. Yes--there. I am having the owner of those broad shoulders
+watched. That gendarme leaning against the pillar follows him wherever
+he goes."
+
+"Who is he?"
+
+"That I am trying to ascertain. This much--he is an Englishman."
+
+Mademoiselle of the Veil laughed. "Pardon my irrelevancy, but the
+remembrance of a recent adventure of mine was too strong."
+
+
+
+Maurice could not regain his interest in the scene. He strolled in and
+out of the moving groups, but no bright eyes or winning smiles allured
+him. Impelled by curiosity, he began to draw near the shadowed nook.
+Curiosity in a journalist is innate, and time nor change can efface
+it. Curiosity in those things which do not concern us is wrong. Ethics
+disavows the practice, though philosophy sustains it. Perhaps in this
+instance Maurice was philosophical, not ethical. Perhaps he wanted
+to hear the woman's voice again, which was excusable. Perhaps it was
+neither the one nor the other, but fate, which directed his footsteps.
+Certain it is that the subsequent adventures would never have happened
+had he gone about his business, as he should have done.
+
+"Who is this who stares at us?" asked Beauvais, with a piercing glance
+and a startled movement of his shoulders.
+
+"A disciple of Pallas and a pupil of Mars," was the answer. "I have been
+recruiting, Colonel. There is sharpness sometimes in new blades. Do not
+draw him with your eyes."
+
+The Colonel continued his scrutiny, however, and there was an ugly
+droop at the corners of his mouth, though it was partly hidden under his
+mustache.
+
+Maurice, aware that he was not wanted, passed along, having in mind to
+regain his former seat by the railing.
+
+"Colonel," he mused, "your face grows more familiar every moment. It was
+not associated with agreeable things. But, what were they? Hang it! you
+shall have a place in my thoughts till I have successfully labeled you.
+Humph! Some one seems to have appropriated my seat."
+
+He viewed with indecision the broad back of the interloper, who at that
+moment turned his head. At the sight of that bronzed profile Maurice
+gave an exclamation of surprise and delight. He stepped forward and
+dropped his hand on the stranger's shoulder.
+
+"John Fitzgerald, or henceforth garlic shall be my salad!" he cried in
+loud, exultant tones.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. SOME DIALOGUE, A SPRAINED ANKLE, AND SOME SOLDIERS
+
+The stranger returned Maurice's salute with open-mouthed dismay; the
+monocle fell from his eye, he grasped the table with one hand and
+pushed back the chair with the other, while Maurice heard the name of an
+exceedingly warm place.
+
+The gendarme, who was leaning against the pillar, straightened, opened
+his jaws, snapped them, and hurried off.
+
+"Maurice--Maurice Carewe?" said the bewildered Englishman.
+
+"No one else, though I must say you do not seem very glad to see me,"
+Maurice answered, conscious that he was all things but welcome.
+
+"Hang you, I'm not!" incogitantly.
+
+"Go to the devil, then!" cried Maurice, hotly.
+
+"Gently," said Fitzgerald, catching Maurice by the coat and pulling him
+down into a chair. "Confound you, could you not have made yourself known
+to me without yelling my name at the top of your voice?"
+
+"Are you ashamed of it?" asked Maurice, loosing his coat from
+Fitzgerald's grip.
+
+"I'm afraid of it," the Englishman admitted, in a lowered voice. "And
+your manly, resonant tones have cast it abroad. I am here incognito."
+
+"Who the deuce are you?"
+
+"I am Don Jahpet of Armenia; that is to say that I am a marked man. And
+now, as you would inelegantly express it, you have put a tag on me. When
+I left you in Vienna the other day I lied to you. I am sorry. I should
+have trusted you, only I did not wish you to risk your life. You would
+have insisted on coming along."
+
+"Risked my life?" echoed Maurice. "How many times have I not risked
+it? By the way," impressed by a sudden thought, "are you the Englishman
+every one seems to be expecting?"
+
+"Yes." Fitzgerald knocked his pipe against the railing. "I am the man.
+Worse luck! Was any one near when you called me by name?"
+
+"Only one of those wooden gendarmes."
+
+"Only one of those wooden gendarmes!" ironically. "Only one of those
+dogs who have been at my heels ever since I arrived. And he, having
+heard, has gone back to his master. Well, since you have started the
+ball rolling, it is no more than fair that you should see the game to
+its end."
+
+"What's it all about?" asked Maurice, his astonishment growing and
+growing.
+
+"Where are your rooms?"
+
+"You have something important to tell me?"
+
+"Perhaps you may think so. At the Continental? Come along."
+
+They passed out of the pavilion, along the path to the square, thence to
+the terrace of the Continental, which they mounted. Not a word was said,
+but Maurice was visibly excited, and by constant gnawing ruined his
+cigar. He conducted his friend to the room on the second floor, the
+window of which opened on a private balcony. Here he placed two chairs
+and a small table; and with a bottle of tokayer between them they seated
+themselves.
+
+"What's it all about?"
+
+"O, only a crown and a few millions in money."
+
+"Only a crown and a few millions in money," repeated Maurice very
+slowly, for his mind could scarcely accept Fitzgerald and these two
+greatest treasures on earth.
+
+A gendarme had leisurely followed them from the park. He took aside a
+porter and quietly plied him with questions. Evidently the answers were
+satisfactory, for he at once departed.
+
+Maurice stared at the Englishman.
+
+"Knocks you up a bit, eh?" said Fitzgerald. "Well, I am rather surprised
+myself; that is to say, I was."
+
+"Fire away," said Maurice.
+
+"To begin with, if I do not see the king to-morrow, it is not likely
+that I ever shall."
+
+"The king?"
+
+"My business here is with his Majesty."
+
+Maurice filled the glasses and pushed one across the table.
+
+"Here's!" said he, and gulped.
+
+Fitzgerald drank slowly, however, as if arranging in his mind the
+salient points in his forthcoming narrative.
+
+"I have never been an extraordinarily communicative man; what I shall
+tell you is known only to my former Colonel and myself. At Calcutta,
+where you and I first met, I was but a Lieutenant in her Majesty's.
+To-day I am burdened with riches such as I know not how to use, and
+possessor of a title which sounds strange in my ears."
+
+The dim light from the gas-jet in the room flickered over his face, and
+Maurice saw that it was slightly contorted, as if by pain.
+
+"My father was Lord Fitzgerald."
+
+"What!" cried Maurice, "the diplomat, the historian, the millionaire?"
+
+"The same. Thirteen years ago we parted--a misunderstanding. I never saw
+him again. Six months ago he died and left me a fortune, a title and a
+strange legacy; and it is this legacy which brings me to Bleiberg. Do
+you know the history of Leopold?"
+
+"I do. This throne belongs to the house of Auersperg, and the Osian
+usurps. The fact that the minister of the duchess has been discredited
+was what brought me here. Continue."
+
+And Fitzgerald proceeded briefly to acquaint the other with the strange
+caprice of his father; how, when he left Bleiberg, he had been waylaid
+and the certificates demanded; how he had entrusted them to his valet,
+who had gone by another route; how the duke had sought him in Vienna and
+made offers, bribes and threats; how he had laughed at all, and sworn
+that Duke Josef should never be a king.
+
+"My father wished to save Leopold in spite of himself; and then, he had
+no love for Josef. At a dinner given at the legation, there was among
+others a toast to her Majesty. The duke laughed and tossed the wine
+to the floor. It lost him his crown, for my father never forgave
+the insult. When the duke died, his daughter took up the work with
+surprising vigor. It was all useless; father was a rock, and would
+listen neither to bribes nor threats. Now they are after me. They have
+hunted me in India, London, and Vienna. I am an obscure soldier, with
+all my titles and riches; they threaten me with death. But I am here,
+and my father's wishes shall be carried out. That is all. I am glad that
+we have come together; you have more invention than I have."
+
+"But why did you come yourself? You could have sent an agent. That would
+have been simple."
+
+"An agent might be bought. It was necessary for me to come. However,
+I might have waited till the twentieth. I should have come openly and
+informed the British minister of my mission. As to the pheasants, they
+could have waited. Perhaps my fears are without foundation, unless you
+have been the unconscious cause of my true name being known. Every one
+has heard the story. It is known as 'Fitzgerald's folly,' and has gone
+the rounds of the diplomatic circles for ten years. I shall ask for an
+audience to-morrow morning."
+
+"And these certificates fall due the same day that the princess is to be
+married," mused his auditor. "What a yarn for the papers!" his love of
+sensation being always close to the surface. "Your father, you say, took
+four million crowns; what became of the fifth?"
+
+"The duke was permitted to secure that."
+
+"A kind of court plaster for his wounds, eh? Why don't you get that
+other million and run the kingdom yourself? It's a great opportunity."
+Maurice laughed.
+
+"Her Royal Highness must not be forgotten. My father thought much of
+her."
+
+"But really I do not see why you are putting yourself to all this
+trouble. The king will pay off the indebtedness; the kingdom is said to
+be rich, or Austria wouldn't meddle with it."
+
+"The king, on the twentieth of this month, will be some three millions
+short."
+
+"And since he can not pay he is bankrupt. Ah, I see the plan. The duke
+knew that he wouldn't be able to pay."
+
+"You have hit it squarely."
+
+"But Austria, having placed Leopold here, is his sponsor."
+
+"Austria has too many debts of her own; she will have to disavow her
+protege, which is a fact not unthought of by the house of Auersperg.
+By constant machination and intrigue the king's revenues have been so
+depleted that ordinary debts are troublesome. The archbishop, to stave
+off the probable end, brought about the alliance between the houses
+of Carnavia and Osia. My business here is to arrange for a ten years'
+renewal of the loan, and that is what the duchess wishes to prevent, mon
+ami. What's to become of the king and his daughter if aught in the way
+of mishap should befall me? I have not seen the king, but I have seen
+her Royal Highness."
+
+"What is she like?" Maurice asked, innocently. He saw no reason why he
+should confide to the Englishman his own adventure.
+
+"I'm not much of a judge," said Fitzgerald cautiously. "I have lived
+most of my life in cantonments where women were old and ran mostly to
+tongue. I should say that she is beautiful." A short sigh followed this
+admission.
+
+"Ah!" said Maurice with a loud laugh to cover the sudden pang of
+jealousy which seized him; "in gratitude for saving her father's throne
+the daughter will fall in love with you. It is what the dramatist calls
+logical sequence."
+
+"Why don't you write novels? Your imagination has no bounds."
+
+"Writing novels is too much like work. But I'm serious. Your position in
+the world to-day is nearly equal to hers, and certainly more secure. Ah,
+yes; I must not forget that prince. He's a lucky dog--and so are you,
+for that matter. Millions and titles! And I have slapped you cavalierly
+on the back, smoked your cigars, drunk your whisky, and beaten you at
+poker!" comically.
+
+"Ah, Maurice, it is neither wealth nor titles; it is freedom. I am like
+a boy out of school for good and all. Women, the society of women, who
+are the salt of earth; that is what I want. I have knocked out thirteen
+years of my life in furnace holes, and have not met nor spoken to a
+dozen young women in all that time. How I envy you! You know every
+one; you have seen the world; you are at home in Paris, or London, or
+Vienna; you have enjoyed all I wish to enjoy."
+
+"Why did you ever get into the army?"
+
+"You ought to know."
+
+"But it was bread and butter to me."
+
+"Well, I was young; I saw fame and glory. If the matter under hand is
+closed to-morrow, what do you say to the Carpathians and bears? I shall
+not remain here; some one will be looking for blood. What do you say?"
+
+"I don't know," said Maurice, thoughtfully. He was thinking of
+Mademoiselle of the Veil and her prophecy of ravens. "I don't know that
+I shall be able. It is my opinion that your part in the affair is only
+a curtain-raiser to graver things. Every one of importance in town goes
+about with an air of expectancy. I never saw anything like it. It is the
+king, the archbishop and the chancellor against two hundred thousand.
+You're a soldier; can't you smell powder?"
+
+"Powder! You do not believe the duchess mad enough to wage war?"
+
+"Trust a woman to do what no one dreams she will."
+
+"But Austria would be about her ears in a minute!"
+
+"Maybe. Have you seen this Colonel Beauvais of the royal cuirassiers,
+the actual head of the army here?"
+
+"A fine soldier," said the Englishman, heartily. "Rides like a centaur
+and wields a saber as if it were a piece of straw."
+
+"I can hold a pretty good blade myself; I've an idea that I can lick him
+at both games."
+
+Fitzgerald laughed good-naturedly. "There is the one flaw in your
+make-up. I admit your horsemanship; but the saber! Believe me, it is
+only the constant practice and a wrist of iron which make the saber
+formidable. You are more familiar with the pen; I dare say you could
+best him at that."
+
+"What makes you think I can not lick him?"
+
+"Since when have the saber and the civilian been on terms? And these
+continental sabers are matchless, the finest in the world. I trust you
+will steer clear of the Colonel; if you have any challenge in mind,
+spring it on me, and I'll let you down easy." Then: "Why the devil do
+you want to lick him, anyway?"
+
+"I don't know," said Maurice. "I had a close range to-night, and somehow
+the man went against the grain. Well, Jack, I'll stay with you in this
+affair, though, as the county judge at home would say, it's out of my
+circuit."
+
+They shook hands across the table.
+
+"Come," said Fitzgerald; "a toast, for I must be off."
+
+"What do you say to her Royal Highness?"
+
+"Let us make it general: to all women!"
+
+They set down the glasses and shook hands again.
+
+"It seemed good to run across you in Vienna, Maurice. You were one of
+the bright spots in the old days."
+
+"Do you want me to walk with you to the Grand? It's a fine night," said
+Maurice, waving his hand toward the moon. "By George, what a beautiful
+place this end of Bleiberg is! I do not wonder that the duchess covets
+it."
+
+"No, I'll go alone. All I have to do is to march straight up the
+Strasse."
+
+"Well, good-night and good luck to you," said Maurice, as he led the
+Englishman into the hallway. "Look me up when you have settled the
+business. I say, but it gets me; it's the strangest thing I ever heard."
+And he waited till the soldierly form disappeared below the landing.
+
+Then he went back to his chair on the balcony to think it over. At four
+o'clock that afternoon he had grumbled of dullness. He lit a pipe,
+and contemplated the soft and delicate blues of earth and heaven, the
+silvery flashes on the lake, and the slim violet threads of smoke
+which wavered about his head. It was late. Now and then the sound of a
+galloping horse was borne up by the breeze, and presently Maurice
+heard the midnight bell boom forth from the sleepy spires of the
+cathedral--where the princess was to be married.
+
+One by one the lamps of the park went out, but the moon shone on,
+lustrous and splendid. First he reviewed his odd adventure in the
+archbishop's gardens. He had spoken to princesses before, but they were
+women of the world, hothouse roses that bloom and wither in a short
+space. The atmosphere which surrounded this princess was idyllic,
+pastoral. She had seen nothing of the world, its sports and pastimes,
+and the art of playing at love was unknown to her. Again he could see
+her serious eyes, the delicate chin and mouth, the oval cheeks, and the
+dog that followed in her steps. Here was an indelible picture which time
+could never efface. Something stirred in his heart, and he sighed.
+
+And ah, the woman in the veil! Who could she be? The more he thought of
+her the more convinced he was that she stood high in the service of
+any one but Leopold of Osia. And Fitzgerald! That sober old soldier
+concerned with crowns and millions! It was incredible; it was almost
+laughable. They had met up-country in India, and had hunted, and Maurice
+had saved the Englishman's life. Occasionally they had corresponded.
+
+"Well, to bed," said the young diplomat. "This has been a full day."
+And, like the true newspaper man he was, for all his diplomacy, he
+emptied the bottle and entered the room. He was about to disrobe, when
+some one rapped on the door. He opened it, and beheld a man in the
+livery of the Grand Hotel. He was breathing hard.
+
+"Herr Carewe?"
+
+"Yes. What's wanted?"
+
+"Herr Hamilton--"
+
+"Hamilton? O, yes. Go on."
+
+"Herr Hamilton bade me to tell your Excellency that in returning to the
+hotel he sprained his ankle, and wishes to know if Herr would not be so
+kind as to spend the night with him."
+
+"Certainly. Run down to the office, and I shall be with you shortly."
+Again alone, Maurice opened his trunk. He brought forth a pint flask
+of brandy, some old handkerchiefs to be used as bandages, and a box of
+salve he used for bruises when on hunting expeditions. In turning over
+his clothes his hand came into contact with his old army revolver. He
+scratched his head. "No, it's too much like a cannon, and there's no
+room for it in my pockets." He pushed it aside, rose and slammed the lid
+of the trunk. "Sprained his ankle? He wasn't gone more than an hour. How
+the deuce is he to see the king to-morrow? Probably wishes to appoint me
+his agent. That's it. Very well." He proceeded to the office, where he
+found the messenger waiting for him. "Come on, and put life into your
+steps."
+
+Together they traversed the moonlit thoroughfare. Few persons were
+astir. Once the night patrol clattered by. They passed through the
+markets, and not far ahead they could see the university. It looked like
+a city prison.
+
+"This is the hotel, Herr," said the messenger.
+
+They entered. Maurice approached the proprietor, who was pale and
+flurried; but as Maurice had never seen the natural repose of his
+countenance, he thought nothing of it.
+
+"My friend, Herr Hamilton, has met with an accident. Where is his room?"
+
+"Number nine; Johann will show you." He acted as if he had something
+more to say, but a glance from the round-faced porter silenced him.
+Maurice lost much by not seeing this glance. He followed the messenger
+up the stairs.
+
+There were no transoms. The corridor was devoid of illumination. The
+porter struck a match and held it close to the panel of a door under
+which a thread of light streamed.
+
+"This is it, Herr," he bawled, so loudly that Maurice started.
+
+"There was no need of waking the dead to tell me," he growled.
+
+The door opened, and before Maurice could brace himself--for the
+interior of the room made all plain to him--he was violently pushed over
+the threshold on to his knees. He was up in an instant. The room was
+filled with soldiers, foot soldiers of the king, so it seemed.
+
+"What the devil is this?" he demanded, brushing his knees and cursing
+himself because he had not brought his Colt when fate had put it almost
+in his hand.
+
+"It is a banquet, young man. We were waiting for the guest of honor."
+
+Maurice turned to the speaker, and saw a medium-sized man with gray
+hair and a frosty stubble of a mustache. He wore no insignia of office.
+Indeed, as Maurice gazed from one man to the next he saw that there
+were no officers; and it came to him that these were not soldiers of the
+king. He was in a trap. He thought quickly. Fitzgerald was in trouble,
+perhaps on his account. Where was he?
+
+"I do not see my friend who sprained his ankle," he said coolly.
+
+This declaration was greeted with laughter.
+
+"Evidently I have entered the wrong room," he continued imperturbably.
+He stepped toward the door, but a burly individual placed his back to
+it.
+
+"Am I a prisoner, or the victim of a practical joke?"
+
+"Either way," said the man with the frosty mustache.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"You have recently formed a dangerous acquaintance, and we desire to aid
+you in breaking it."
+
+"Are you aware, gentlemen--no, I don't mean gentlemen--that I am
+attached to the American legation in Vienna, and that my person is
+inviolable?"
+
+Everybody laughed again--everybody but Maurice.
+
+"Allow me to correct you," put in the elderly man, who evidently was
+the leader in the affair. "You are not attached; you are detached.
+Gentlemen, permit me, M. Carewe, detache of the American legation in
+Vienna, who wishes he had stayed there."
+
+Maurice saw a brace of revolvers on the mantel. The table stood between.
+
+"Well," he said, banteringly, "bring on your banquet; the hour is late."
+
+"That's the way; don't lose your temper, and no harm will come to you."
+
+"What do you wish of me?"
+
+"Merely the pleasure of your company. Lieutenant, bring out the
+treasure."
+
+One of the soldiers entered the next room and soon returned pushing
+Fitzgerald before him. The Englishman was bound and gagged.
+
+"How will you have the pheasant served?" asked the leader.
+
+"Like a gentleman!" cried Maurice, letting out a little of his anger.
+"Take out the gag; he will not cry."
+
+The leader nodded, and Fitzgerald's mouth was relieved. He spat some
+blood on the carpet, then looked at his captors, the devil in his eyes.
+
+"Proceed to kill me and have done," he said.
+
+"Kill you? No, no!"
+
+"I advise you to, for if you do not kill me, some day I shall be free
+again, and then God help some of you."
+
+Maurice gazed at the candles on the table, and smiled.
+
+"I'm sorry they dragged you into it, Maurice," said Fitzgerald.
+
+"I'm glad they did. What you want is company." There was a glance, swift
+as light. It went to the mantel, then passed to the captive. "Well,"
+said Maurice, "what is next on your damned program?"
+
+"The other side of the frontier."
+
+"Maybe," said Maurice.
+
+With an unexpected movement he sent the table over, the lights went
+out; and he had judged the distance so accurately that he felt his hands
+close over the revolvers.
+
+"The door! the door!" a voice bawled. "Knock down any one who attempts
+to pass."
+
+This was precisely what Maurice desired. With the soldiers massed about
+the door, he would be free to liberate Fitzgerald; which he did. He
+had scarcely completed the task, when a flame spurted up. The leader
+fearlessly lit a candle and righted the table. He saw both his
+prisoners, one of them with extended arms, at the ends of which
+glistened revolver barrels.
+
+"The devil!" he said.
+
+"Maybe it is," replied Maurice. "Now, my gay banqueteers, open the door;
+and the first man who makes a suspicious movement will find that I'm a
+tolerable shot."
+
+"Seize him, your Excellency!" shouted one of the troopers. "Those are my
+revolvers he has, and they are not loaded."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. THE RED CHATEAU
+
+Two o'clock in the morning, on the king's highway, and a small body of
+horse making progress. The moon was beginning to roll away toward the
+west, but the world was still frost-white, and the broad road stretched
+out like a silver ribbon before the horsemen, until it was lost in the
+blue mist of the forests.
+
+The troop consisted of ten men, two of whom rode with their hands tied
+behind their backs and their feet fastened under the bellies of the
+horses. The troop was not conspicuous for this alone. Three others had
+their heads done up in handkerchiefs, and a fourth carried his arm in a
+sling.
+
+Five miles to the rear lay the sleeping city of Bleiberg, twenty miles
+beyond rose the formidable heights of the Thalians. At times the horses
+went forward at a gallop, but more often they walked; when they galloped
+the man with his arm in the sling complained. Whenever the horses
+dropped into a walk, the leader talked to one of the prisoners.
+
+"You fight like the very devil, my friend," he said; "but we were
+too many by six. Mind, I think none the less of you for your attempt;
+freedom is always worth fighting for. As I said before, no harm is meant
+to you, physically; as to the moral side, that doesn't concern me. You
+have disabled four of my men, and have scarcely a dozen scratches to
+show for it. I wanted to take only four men with me; I was ordered to
+take eight. The hand of providence is in it."
+
+"You wouldn't be so polite, Colonel," spoke up the trooper whose arm was
+in the sling, "if you had got this crack."
+
+"Baron, who told you to call me Colonel?" the leader demanded.
+
+"Why, we are out of the city; there's no harm now that I can see."
+
+"Is it possible," said Maurice ironically, "that I have had the honor of
+hitting a baron on the head and breaking his arm?"
+
+The baron muttered a curse and fell back.
+
+"And you," went on Maurice, addressing the leader, "are a Colonel?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"For the duchess?"
+
+"For the duchess."
+
+"A black business for you, Colonel; take my word for it."
+
+"A black business it is; but orders are orders. Have you ever been a
+soldier?"
+
+"I have."
+
+"Well, there's nothing more to be said."
+
+"America--" Maurice began.
+
+"Is several thousand miles away."
+
+"Not if you reckon from Vienna."
+
+"I'd rather not reckon, if it's all the same to you. Your friend--I
+might say, your very valuable friend--takes the matter too much to
+heart."
+
+"He's not a talkative man."
+
+Fitzgerald looked straight ahead, stern and impassive.
+
+"But now that we are talking," said Maurice, "I should like to know how
+the deuce you got hold of my name and dragged me into this affair?"
+
+"Simple enough. A card of yours was given to me; on it was your name and
+address. The rest was easy."
+
+Maurice grew limp in the saddle.
+
+"By George! I had forgotten! The woman is at the bottom of it."
+
+"Quite likely. I thought you'd come to that conclusion. Sometimes when
+we play with foxes they lead us into bear traps. Young man, witness
+these gray hairs; never speak to strange women, especially when they
+wear veils."
+
+Fitzgerald was now attending the conversation.
+
+"And who is this woman?" asked Maurice.
+
+"Mademoiselle of the Veil, according to your picturesque imagination; to
+me she is the intimate friend and adviser of her Highness Stephonia." He
+wheeled to the troopers with a laugh: "Hoch, you beggars, hoch!"
+
+Maurice indulged in some uncomplimentary remarks, among which was: "I'm
+an ass!"
+
+"Every man improves on making that discovery; the Darwinian theory is
+wrong."
+
+After a pause Maurice said: "How did you get on the ground so quickly?"
+
+"We arrived yesterday afternoon as the escort of your charmer. A pretty
+woman finds it troublesome to travel alone in these parts. When you
+slapped your friend on the back and bawled out his name--a name known
+from one end of the kingdom to the other--the plan of action was
+immediately formed. You were necessary, for it was taken for granted
+that you knew too much. You had also promised your sword," with a
+chuckle.
+
+"I made no promise," said Maurice. "I only said that I should easily be
+found when wanted."
+
+"Well, so you were; there's no gainsaying that."
+
+Maurice said some more uncomplimentary things.
+
+"It was neatly done, you will admit. Life is a game of cards; he wins
+who plays first."
+
+"Or he doesn't. Colonel, a game is won only when it is played'."
+
+"That's true enough."
+
+"Kings are a tolerable bother on earth," Maurice declared, trying to
+ease his wrists by holding them higher against his back.
+
+"What do you know about them?"
+
+"When I was in the army I often fell in with three or four of a night."
+
+"Eh?--kings?"
+
+"Yes; but usually I was up against aces or straight flushes."
+
+"Cards! Well, well; when you get down to the truth of the matter, real
+kings differ but little from the kings in pasteboard; right side up, or
+wrong side up, they serve the purpose of those who play them. There's a
+poor, harmless devil back there," with a nod toward Bleiberg. "He never
+injured a soul. Perhaps that's it; had he been cruel, avaricious, sly,
+all of them would be cringing at his feet. Devil take me--but I'm a
+soldier," he broke off abruptly; "it's none of my business."
+
+"Have you any titles?" Maurice asked presently.
+
+"Titles?" The Colonel jerked around on his horse. "Why?"
+
+"O," said Maurice carelessly, "I thought it not unlikely that you might
+have a few lying around loose."
+
+The Colonel roared. "You Americans beat the very devil with your
+questions. Well, I am politely known as Count Mollendorf, if that will
+gratify you."
+
+"What! brother of Mollendorf of the king's police?"
+
+"God save the mark! No; I am an honest man--some of the time."
+
+Maurice laughed; the old fellow was amusing, and besides, this
+conversation helped to pass away the time.
+
+"Wake up, Jack; here's entertainment," he said.
+
+A scowl added itself to the stern expression on Fitzgerald's face.
+
+"I trust that none of your teeth are loose," ventured the Colonel.
+
+"If they are, they'll be tight enough ere many days have passed," was
+the threatening reply.
+
+"Beware the dog!" cried the Colonel, and he resumed his place at the
+head of the little troop.
+
+Maurice took this opportunity to bend toward Fitzgerald. "Have you
+anything of importance about you?" he whispered significantly.
+
+"Nothing. But God send that no chambermaid change the sheet in my bed at
+the hotel."
+
+"Are they--"
+
+"Silence." Fitzgerald saw the trooper next with his hand to his ear.
+
+After a time the Colonel sang out: "Fifteen miles more, with three on
+the other side, men; we must put more life into us. A trot for a few
+miles. The quicker the ride is done, baron, the quicker the surgeon will
+look to your arm."
+
+And silence fell upon the troop. Occasionally a stray horse in the
+fields whinneyed, and was answered from the road; sometimes the howl of
+a dog broke the monotony. On and on they rode; hour and mile were left
+behind them. The moon fell lower and lower, and the mountains rose
+higher and higher, and the wind which had risen had a frosty sting to
+it. Maurice now began to show the true state of his temper by cursing
+his horse whenever it rubbed against one of its fellows. His back was
+lame, and there was a dull pain in one of his shoulders. When he had
+made the rush for the door, clubbing right and left with the empty
+revolvers, he had finally been thrown on an overturned chair.
+
+"Here, hang you!" he said to the trooper who held the bridle of his
+horse, "I'm cold; you might at least turn up my collar about my throat."
+
+"You are welcome to my cloak," said the trooper, disengaging that
+article from his shoulders.
+
+"Thank you," said Maurice, somewhat abashed by the respectful tone.
+
+The trooper offered his blanket to Fitzgerald.
+
+"I wish no favors," said the Englishman, thanklessly.
+
+The trooper shrugged, and caught up Maurice's bridle.
+
+At length the troop arrived at the frontier. There was no sign of life
+at the barrack. They passed unchallenged.
+
+"What!" exclaimed Maurice, "do they sleep here at night, then? A fine
+frontier barrack." He had lived in hopes of more disturbance and a
+possible chance for liberty.
+
+"They will wake up to-day," answered the Colonel; "that is, if the wine
+we gave them was not too strong. Poor devils; they must be good and cold
+by this time, since we have their clothes. What do you think of a king
+whose soldiers drink with any strangers who chance along?"
+
+Maurice became resigned. To him the present dynasty was as fragile as
+glass, and it needed but one strong blow to shatter it into atoms. And
+the one hope rode at his side, sullen and wrathful, but impotent; the
+one hope the king had to save his throne. He had come to Bleiberg in
+search of excitement, but this was altogether more than he had bargained
+for.
+
+The horses began to lift and were soon winding in and out of the narrow
+mountain pass. The chill of the overhanging snows fell upon them.
+
+"It wouldn't have hurt you to accept the blanket," said Maurice to
+Fitzgerald.
+
+"Curse it! I want nothing but two minutes freedom. It would be warm
+enough then."
+
+"No confidences, gentlemen," warned the Colonel; "I understand English
+tolerably well."
+
+"Go to the devil, then, if you do!" said Fitzgerald discourteously.
+
+"When the time comes," tranquilly. "Of the two I like your friend
+the better. To be resigned to the inevitable is a sign of good mental
+balance."
+
+"I am not used to words," replied the Englishman.
+
+"You are used to orders. I am simply obeying mine. If I took you off
+your guard it was because I had to, and not because I liked that method
+best. Look alive, men; it's down hill from now on."
+
+A quarter of an hour later the troop arrived at the duchy's frontier
+post. There was no sleep here. The Colonel flung himself from his horse
+and exercised his legs.
+
+"Sergeant," he said, "how far behind the others?"
+
+"They passed two hours ago, Excellency. And all is well?" deferentially.
+
+"All is indeed well," with a gesture toward the prisoners.
+
+"I've a flask of brandy in my hip pocket," said Maurice. "Will you help
+me to a nip, Colonel?"
+
+"Pardon me, gentlemen; I had forgotten that your hands were still in
+cords. Corporal," to a trooper, "relieve their hands."
+
+The prisoners rubbed their wrists and hands, which were numb and cold.
+Maurice produced his flask.
+
+"I was bringing it along for your sprained ankle," he said, as he
+extended the flask to Fitzgerald, who drank a third of it. "I'd offer
+you some, Colonel, only it would be like heaping coals of fire on your
+head; and, besides, I want it all myself." He returned the emptied flask
+to his pocket, feeling a moderate warmth inside.
+
+"Drink away, my son," said the Colonel, climbing into the saddle;
+"there'll be plenty for me for this night's work. Forward!"
+
+The troop took up the march again, through a splendid forest kept clear
+of dead wood by the peasants. It abounded with game. The shrill cry of
+the pheasants, the rustle of the partridges in the underbrush, the bark
+of the fox, all rose to the ears of the trespassers. The smell of warm
+earth permeated the air, and the sky was merging from silver into gold.
+
+When Napoleon humiliated Austria for the second time, one of his
+mushroom nobles, who placed too much faith in the man of destiny,
+selected this wooded paradise as a residence. He built him a fine castle
+of red brick, full of wide halls and drawing rooms and chambers of
+state, and filled it with fabulous paintings, Gobelin tapestries, and
+black walnut wainscot. He kept a small garrison of French soldiers
+by converting the huge stables partly into a barrack. One night the
+peasantry rose. There was a conflict, as the walls still show; and the
+prince by patent fled, no one knew where. After its baptism in blood
+it became known far and wide as the Red Chateau. Whenever children were
+unruly, they were made docile by threats of the dark dungeons of the Red
+Chateau, or the ghosts of the French and German peasants who died there.
+As it now stood, it was one of the summer residences of her Highness.
+
+It was here that the long night's journey came to an end.
+
+"Gentlemen," said the Colonel, dismounting, "permit me, in the name of
+her Highness, to offer you the hospitality of Red Chateau. Consider;
+will you lighten my task by giving me your word of honor to make no
+attempt to escape? Escape is possible, but not probable. There are
+twenty fresh men and horses in the stables. Come, be reasonable. It will
+be pleasanter on both sides."
+
+"So far as I'm concerned," said Maurice, who needed liberty not half so
+much as sleep, "I pass my word."
+
+"And you, sir?" to Fitzgerald.
+
+Fitzgerald gazed about him. "Very well," he said, as he saw the futility
+of a struggle.
+
+"Your humble servant, Messieurs," touching his cap. "Take the ropes off
+their ankles, men."
+
+When Maurice was lifted from his horse and placed on the ground, his
+legs suddenly bent under him, and he went sprawling to the grass. A
+trooper sprang to his assistance.
+
+"My legs have gone to sleep!"
+
+The Englishman was affected likewise, and it was some moments before
+either could walk. They were conducted to a chamber high up in the left
+wing, which overlooked the forest and the mountains. It was a large airy
+room, but the windows were barred and there were double locks on the
+doors. The Colonel followed them into the room and pointed to the table.
+
+"Breakfast, Messieurs, and a good sleep for you till this noon. As for
+the rest, let that take care of itself." And he left them.
+
+Maurice, after having tried all the bars and locks in answer to his
+conscience, gave his attention to the breakfast. On lifting the covers
+he found fish, eggs, toast and coffee.
+
+"Here's luck!" he cried. "We were expected."
+
+"Curse it, Maurice!" Fitzgerald began pacing the room.
+
+"No, no," said Maurice; "let us eat it; that's what it's here for," and
+he fell to with that vigor known only to healthy blood.
+
+"But what's to be done?"
+
+"Follow Solomon's advice, and wait."
+
+"You're taking it cursed cool."
+
+"Force of habit," breaking the toast. "What's the use of wasting powder?
+Because I have shown only the exterior, our friend the Colonel has
+already formed an opinion of me. I am brave if need be, but young and
+careless. In a day or so--for I suppose we are not to be liberated at
+once--he'll forget to use proper caution in respect to me. And then,
+'who can say?' as the Portuguese says when he hasn't anything else to
+say. They'll keep a strict watch over you, my friend, because you've
+played the lion too much. Just before I left the States, as you call
+them, a new slang phrase was going the rounds;--'it is better to play
+the fox some of the time than to roar all of the time.' Ergo, be foxy.
+Take it cool. So long as you haven't got that mint packed about your
+person, the game breaks even."
+
+"But the king!"
+
+"Is as secure on his throne as he ever was. If you do not present those
+consols, either for renewal or collection, on the twentieth, he loses
+nothing. As you said, let us hope that the chambermaid is a shifty,
+careless lass, who will not touch your room till you return." Maurice
+broke an egg and dropped a lump of sugar into his cup.
+
+"Is this the way you fight Indians?"
+
+"Indians? What the deuce has fighting Indians to do with this? As to
+Indians, shoot them in the back if you can. Here, everything depends not
+on fighting but the right use of words. A man may be a diplomat and
+not render his country any large benefit; still, it's a fine individual
+training. Thrones stand on precipices and are pushed back to safety by
+the trick of a few words. Have an egg; they're fresh."
+
+Fitzgerald sat down and gulped his coffee. "They broke my monocle in the
+struggle."
+
+Maurice choked in his cup.
+
+"I've worn it twelve years, too," went on Fitzgerald.
+
+"Everything is for the best," said Maurice. "You will be able to see out
+of both eyes."
+
+"Confound you!" cried Fitzgerald, smiling in spite of himself; "nothing
+will disturb you."
+
+"You mean, nothing shall. Now, there's the bed and there's the lounge.
+Since you are the principal, that is to say, the constituent part of
+this affair, and also the principal actor in this extravaganza, suppose
+you take the bed and leave me the lounge? And the deuce take the
+duchess, who is probably a woman with a high forehead and a pair of
+narrow eyes!" He threw down his napkin and made for the lounge, without
+giving any particular attention to the smile and frown which were
+struggling in the Englishman's eyes. In less than a minute Maurice was
+dozing.
+
+Fitzgerald thought that the best thing he could do was to follow the
+philosophical example of his friend. "These Americans," he mused, as he
+arranged the pillow under his ear, "are `fifteen puzzles'; you can move
+them, or you can't."
+
+As for Maurice, he was already dreaming; he was too tired to sleep.
+Presently he thought he was on a horse again, and was galloping,
+galloping. He was heading his old company to the very fringe of the
+alkali. The Apaches had robbed the pay train and killed six men, and
+the very deuce was to pay all around.... Again he was swimming, and a
+beautiful girl reached out a hand and saved him. Ah! how beautiful she
+was, how soft and rich the deep brown of her eyes!... The scene shifted.
+The president of the South American republic had accepted his sword
+(unbeknown to the United States authorities), and he was aiding to quell
+the insurrection. And just then some one whispered to him that gold
+would rise fifty points. And as he put out his hands to gather in the
+glittering coins which were raining down, the face of Colonel Beauvais
+loomed up, scowling and furious.... And yet again came the beautiful
+girl. He was holding her hand and the archbishop had his spread out in
+benediction over their heads.... A hand, which was not of dreamland,
+shook him by the arm. He opened his eyes. Fitzgerald was standing over
+him. The light of the sun spangled the walls opposite the windows. The
+clock marked the eleventh hour of day.
+
+"Hang you!" he said, with blinking eyes; "why didn't you let me be?
+I was just marrying the princess, and you've spoiled it all. I--" He
+jumped to his feet and rubbed his eyes, and, forgetful of all save his
+astonishment, pursed his lips into a low whistle.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. NOTHING MORE SERIOUS THAN A HOUSE PARTY
+
+Standing just within the door, smiling and rubbing the gray bristles
+on his lip, was the Colonel. In the center of the room stood a
+woman dressed in gray. Maurice recognized the dress; it belonged to
+Mademoiselle of the Veil, who was now sans veil, sans hat. A marvelous
+face was revealed to Maurice, a face of that peculiar beauty which poets
+and artists are often minded to deny, but for the love of which men die,
+become great or terrible, overturn empires and change the map of the
+world.
+
+Her luxuriant hair, which lay in careless masses about the shapely head
+and intelligent brow, was a mixture of red and brown and gold, a variety
+which never ceases to charm; skin the pallor of ancient marble, with
+the shadow of rose lying below the eyes, the large, gray chatoyant
+eyes, which answered every impulse of the brain which ruled them. The
+irregularity of her features was never noticeable after a glance into
+those eyes. At this moment both eyes and lips expressed a shade of
+amusement.
+
+Maurice, who was astonished never more than a minute at a time,
+immediately recovered. His toilet was somewhat disarranged, and the back
+of his head a crow's nest, but, nevertheless, he placed a hand over his
+heart and offered a low obeisance.
+
+"Good morning, gentlemen," she said, in a voice which Maurice would
+have known anywhere. "I hope the journey has caused you no particular
+annoyance."
+
+"The annoyance was not so particular, Madame," said Fitzgerald stiffly,
+"as it was general."
+
+"And four of my troopers will take oath to that!" interjected the
+Colonel.
+
+"Will Madame permit me to ask when will the opera begin?" asked Maurice.
+
+"I am glad," said she, "that you have lost none of your freshness."
+
+Maurice was struck for a moment, but soon saw that the remark was
+innocent of any inelegance of speech. Fitzgerald was gnawing his
+mustache and looking out of the corner of his eyes--into hers.
+
+"My task, I confess, is a most disagreeable one," she resumed, lightly
+beating her gauntlets together; "but when one serves high personages one
+is supposed not to have any sentiments." To Fitzgerald she said: "You
+are the son of the late Lord Fitzgerald."
+
+"For your sake, I regret to say that I am."
+
+"For my sake? Worry yourself none on that point. As the agent of her
+Highness I am inconsiderable."
+
+"Madame," said Maurice, "will you do us the honor to inform us to whom
+we are indebted for this partiality to our distinguished persons?"
+
+"I am Sylvia Amerbach," quietly.
+
+"Amerbach?" said Maurice, who was familiar with the great names of the
+continent. "Pardon me, but that was once a famous name in Prussia."
+
+"I am distantly related to that house of princes," looking at her
+gauntlets.
+
+"Well, Madame, since your business doubtless concerns me, pray, begin;"
+and Fitzgerald leaned against the mantelpiece and fumbled with the rim
+of his monocle.
+
+Maurice walked to one of the windows and perched himself on the broad
+sill. He began to whistle softly:
+
+Voici le sabre de mon pere! Tu vas le mettre a ton cote....
+
+Beyond the window, at the edge of the forest, he saw a sentinel pacing
+backward and forward. Indeed, no matter which way he looked, the
+autumnal scenery had this accessory. Again, he inspected the bars. These
+were comparatively new. It was about thirty feet to the court below. On
+the whole, the outlook was discouraging.
+
+"Count," said the distant relative of the house of Amerbach, "how shall
+I begin?"
+
+"I am not a diplomat, Madame," answered the Colonel. "If, however, you
+wish the advice of a soldier, I should begin by asking if my lord the
+Englishman has those consols about his person."
+
+"Fie, count!" she cried, laughing; "one would say that was a prelude to
+robbery."
+
+"So they would. As for myself, I prefer violence to words. If we take
+these pretty papers by violence, we shall still have left our friend
+the Englishman his self-respect. And as for words, while my acquaintance
+with our friend is slight, I should say that they would only be wasted
+here."
+
+The whistle from the window still rose and fell.
+
+"Monsieur, I have it in my power to make you rich."
+
+"I am rich," replied Fitzgerald.
+
+"In honors?"
+
+"Madame, the title I have is already a burden to me." Fitzgerald
+laughed, which announced that the cause of the duchess was not getting
+on very well. Once or twice he raised the tortoiseshell rim to his eye,
+but dropped it; force of habit was difficult to overcome.
+
+"Your father nourished a particular rancor against the late duke."
+
+"And justly, you will admit."
+
+"Her Highness has offered you five millions for slips of paper worth no
+more than the ink which decorates them."
+
+"And I have refused. Why? Simply because the matter does not rest with
+me. You have proceeded with a high hand, Madame, or rather your duchess
+has. Nothing will come of it. Had there been any possibility of my
+considering your proposals, this kidnaping would have destroyed it."
+
+She smiled. Maurice saw the smile and stopped whistling long enough to
+scratch his chin, which was somewhat in need of a razor. He had
+seen many women smile that way. He had learned to read it. It was an
+inarticulate "perhaps."
+
+"The rightful successor to the throne--"
+
+"Is Madame the duchess," Fitzgerald completed. "I haven't the slightest
+doubt of that. One way or the other, it does not concern me. I came here
+simply to fulfill the wishes of my father; and my word, Madame, fulfill
+them I shall. You are holding me a prisoner, but uselessly. On the
+twentieth the certificates fall due against the government. If they are
+not presented either for renewal or collection, the bankruptcy scheme of
+your duchess will fall through just the same. I will tell you the
+truth, Madame. My father never expected to collect the moneys so long as
+Leopold sat on the throne."
+
+The whistle grew shrill.
+
+"This officer here," continued Fitzgerald, while the Colonel made a
+comical grimace, "suggests violence. I shall save him the trouble. I
+have seen much of the world, Madame--the hard side of it--and, knowing
+it as I do, it is scarcely probable that I should carry about my person
+the equivalent of four millions of crowns."
+
+"Well, Madame," said the Colonel, pushing his belt closer about his
+hips, as a soldier always does when he is on the point of departure,
+"what he says is true, every word of it. I see nothing more to do at
+present."
+
+Mademoiselle of the Veil was paying not so much attention to the
+Colonel's words as she was to Maurice's whistle.
+
+"Monsieur," she said, coldly, "have you no other tune in your
+repertory?"
+
+"Pardon me!" exclaimed Maurice. "I did not intend to annoy you." He
+stepped down out of the window.
+
+"You do not annoy me; only the tune grows rather monotonous."
+
+"I will whistle anything you may suggest," he volunteered.
+
+She did not respond to this flippancy, though the pupils of her gray
+eyes grew large with anger. She walked the length of the room and back.
+
+"Count, what do you think would be most satisfactory to her Highness,
+under the circumstances?"
+
+"I have yet to hear of her Highness' disapproval of anything you
+undertake."
+
+"Messieurs, your parole d'honneur, and the freedom of the chateau is
+yours--within the sentry lines. I wish to make your recollections of the
+Red Chateau rather pleasant than otherwise. I shall be most happy if you
+will honor my table with your presence."
+
+The Colonel coughed, Maurice smoothed the back of his head, and
+Fitzgerald caught up his monocle.
+
+"My word, Madame," said Maurice, "is not worth much, being that of
+a diplomat, but such as it is it is yours. However, my clothes are
+scarcely presentable," which was true enough. Several buttons were
+missing, and the collar hung by a thread.
+
+"That can be easily remedied," said she. "There are several new hussar
+uniforms in the armory."
+
+"O, Madame, and you will permit me to wear one of those gay uniforms of
+light blue and silver lace?"
+
+The Colonel looked thoughtfully at Maurice. He was too much a banterer
+himself to miss the undercurrent of raillery. He eyed Madame discreetly;
+he saw that she had accepted merely the surface tones.
+
+"And you will wear one, too, Jack?" said Maurice.
+
+"No, thank you. I pass my word, Madame; I do not like confinement."
+
+"Well, then, the count will shortly return and establish you in better
+quarters. Let us suppose you are my guests for a--a fortnight. Since
+both of us are right, since neither your cause nor mine is wrong,
+an armistice! Ah! I forgot. The east corridor on the third floor is
+forbidden you. Should you mistake and go that way, a guard will direct
+you properly. Messieurs, till dinner!" and with a smile which illumined
+her face as a sudden burst of sunshine flashes across a hillside, she
+passed out of the room, followed by her henchman, who had not yet put
+aside the thoughtful repose of his countenance.
+
+"A house party," said Maurice, when he could no longer hear their
+footsteps. "And what the deuce have they got so valuable in the east
+corridor on the third floor?"
+
+"It's small matter to me," said Fitzgerald tranquilly. "The main fact is
+that she has given up her game."
+
+Said Maurice, his face expressing both pity and astonishment: "My dear,
+dear John! Didn't you see that woman's eyes, her hair, her chin, her
+nose?"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"True; you haven't had any experience with petticoats. This woman will
+rend heaven and earth rather than relinquish her projects, or rather
+those of her mistress. I should like to see this duchess, who shows a
+fine discernment in the selection of her assistants. Beware of the
+woman who is frankly your enemy. If she is frank, it is because she is
+confident of the end; if not, she is frank in order to disarm us of the
+suspicion of cunning. I would give much to know the true meaning of this
+house party."
+
+"Hang me if I can see what difference it makes. She can not do anything
+either by frankness or by cunning."
+
+"She gathered us in neatly, this red-haired Amazon."
+
+"Red-haired!" in a kind of protest.
+
+"Why, yes; that's the color, isn't it?" innocently.
+
+"I thought it a red-brown. It's too bad that such a woman should be
+mixed up in an affair like this."
+
+"Woman will sacrifice to ambition what she never will sacrifice to love.
+Hush; I hear the Colonel returning."
+
+They were conducted to the opposite wing of the chateau, to a room on
+the second floor. Its windows afforded an excellent view of the land
+which lay south. Hills rolled away like waves of gold, dotted here and
+there with vineyards. Through the avenue of trees they could see the
+highway, and beyond, the river, which had its source in the mountains
+ten miles eastward.
+
+The room itself was in red, evidently a state chamber, for it contained
+two canopied beds. Several fine paintings hung from the walls, and
+between the two windows rose one of those pier glasses which owe their
+existence to the first empire of France. On one of the beds Maurice saw
+the hussar uniform. On the dresser were razors and mugs and a pitcher of
+hot water.
+
+"Ah," he said, with satisfaction.
+
+"The boots may not fit you," said the Colonel, "but if they do not we
+will manage some way."
+
+"I shall not mind the fortnight," said Maurice. "By the way, Colonel, I
+notice that French seems to prevail instead of German. Why is that?"
+
+"It is the common language of politeness, and servants do not understand
+it. As for myself, I naturally prefer the German tongue; it is blunt
+and honest and lacks the finesse of the French, which is full of evasive
+words and meanings. However, French predominates at court. Besides,
+heaven help the foreigner who tries to learn all the German tongues to
+be found in the empires of the Hohenzollern and Hapsburg. Luncheon will
+be served to you in the dining hall; the first door to the right at
+the foot of the grand staircase. I shall send you a trooper to act as
+valet."
+
+"Spare me, Colonel," said Maurice, who did not want any one between him
+and the Englishman when they were alone.
+
+"I have never had a valet," said Fitzgerald; "he would embarrass me."
+
+"As you please," said the Colonel, a shade of disappointment in his
+tones. "After all, you are soldiers, where every man is for himself.
+Make yourselves at home;" and he withdrew.
+
+Maurice at once applied lather and razor, and put on the handsome
+uniform, which fitted him snugly. The coat was tailless, with rows of
+silver buttons running from collar to waist. The breast and shoulders
+and sleeves were covered with silver lace, and Maurice concluded that it
+must be nothing less than a captain's uniform. The trousers were tight
+fitting, with broad stripes of silver; and the half boots were of patent
+leather. He walked backward and forward before the pier-glass.
+
+"I say, Fitz, what do you think of it?"
+
+"You're a handsome rascal, Maurice," answered the Englishman, who had
+watched his young friend, amusement in his sober eyes. "Happily, there
+are no young women present."
+
+"Go to! I'll lay odds that our hostess is under twenty-five."
+
+"I meant young women of sixteen or seventeen. Women such as Madame have
+long since passed the uniform fever."
+
+"Not when it has lace, my friend, court lace. Well, forward to the
+dining hall."
+
+Both were rather disappointed to find that Madame would be absent until
+dinner. Fitzgerald could not tell exactly why he was disappointed, and
+he was angry with himself for the vague regret. Maurice, however, found
+consolation in the demure French maid who served them. Every time he
+smiled she made a courtesy, and every time she left the room Maurice
+nudged Fitzgerald.
+
+"Smile, confound you, smile!" he whispered. "There's never a maid but
+has her store of gossip, and gossip is information."
+
+"Pshaw!" said Fitzgerald, helping himself to cold ham and chicken.
+
+"Wine, Messieurs?" asked the maid.
+
+"Ah, then Madame offers the cellars?" said Maurice.
+
+"Yes, Messieurs. There is chambertin, champagne, chablis, tokayer and
+sherry."
+
+"Bring us some chambertin, then."
+
+"Oui, Messieurs."
+
+"Hurry along, my Hebe," said Maurice.
+
+The maid was not on familiar terms with the classics, but she told the
+butler in the pantry that the smooth-faced one made a charming Captain.
+
+"Keep your eyes open," grumbled the butler; "he'll be kissing you next."
+
+"He might do worse," was the retort. Even maids have their mirrors, and
+hers told a pretty story. When she returned with the wine she asked:
+"And shall I pour it, Messieurs?"
+
+"No one else shall," declared Maurice. "When is the duchess to arrive?"
+
+"I do not know, Monsieur," stepping in between the chairs and filling
+the glasses with the ruby liquid.
+
+"Who is Madame Sylvia Amerbach?"
+
+"Madame Sylvia Amerbach," placing the bottle on the table and going to
+the sideboard. She returned with a box of "Khedives."
+
+Fitzgerald laughed at Maurice's disconcertion.
+
+"Where has Madame gone?"
+
+"To the summer home of Countess Herzberg, who is to return with Madame."
+
+"Oho!" cried Maurice, in English. "A countess! What do you say to that,
+my Englishman?"
+
+"She is probably old and plain. Madame desires a chaperon."
+
+"You forget that Madame desires nothing but those certificates. And the
+chaperon does not live who could keep an eye on Madame Sylvia Amerbach."
+
+The mention of the certificates brought back all the Englishman's
+discomfort, and he emptied his glass of wine not as a lover of good wine
+should. Soon they rose from the table. The maid ran to the door and held
+it open. Fitzgerald hurried through, but Maurice lingered a moment. He
+put his hand under the porcelain chin and looked into the china-blue
+eyes. Fitzgerald turned.
+
+"What was that noise?" he asked, as Maurice shouldered him along the
+hall.
+
+"What noise?"
+
+Madame came back to the chateau at five, and dinner was announced at
+eight. The Countess Herzberg was young and pretty, the possessor of a
+beautiful mouth and a charming smile. The Colonel did the honors at
+the table. Maurice almost fancied himself in Vienna, the setting of the
+dining room was so perfect. The entire room was paneled in walnut. On
+the mantel over the great fireplace stood silver candlesticks with
+wax tapers. The candlestick in the center of the table was composed of
+twelve branches. The cuisine was delectable, the wines delicious. Madame
+and the countess were in evening dress. The Colonel was brimming with
+anecdote, the countess was witty, Madame was a sister to Aspasia.
+
+Maurice, while he enjoyed this strange feast, was puzzled. It was very
+irregular, and the Colonel's gray hairs did not serve to alter this
+fact. What was the meaning of it? What lay underneath?
+
+Sometimes he caught Fitzgerald in the act of staring at Madame when her
+attention was otherwise engaged; at other times he saw that Madame was
+returning this cursory investigation. There was, however, altogether a
+different meaning in these surreptitious glances. In the one there were
+interest, doubt, admiration; in the other, cold calculation. At no time
+did the conversation touch politics, and the crown was a thousand miles
+away--if surface indications went for aught.
+
+Finally the Colonel rose. "A toast--to Madame the duchess, since this is
+her very best wine!"
+
+Maurice emptied his glass fast enough; but Fitzgerald lowered his eyes
+and made no movement to raise his glass. The pupils in Madame's eyes
+grew small.
+
+"That is scarcely polite, Monsieur," she said.
+
+"Madame," he replied gently, "my parole did not include toasts to her
+Highness. My friend loves wine for its own sake, and seldom bothers his
+head about the toast as long as the wine is good. Permit me to withdraw
+the duchess and substitute yourself."
+
+"Do so, if it will please you. In truth, it was bad taste in you, count,
+to suggest it."
+
+"It's all the same to me;" and the Colonel refilled his glass and
+nodded.
+
+The countess smiled behind her fan, while Maurice felt the edge of the
+mild reproach which had been administered to him.
+
+"I plead guilty to the impeachment. It was very wrong. Far from it that
+I should drink to the health of the Philistines. Madame the countess was
+beating me down with her eyes, and I did not think."
+
+"I was not even looking at you!" declared the countess, blushing.
+
+The incident was soon forgotten; and at length Madame and the countess
+rose.
+
+Said the first: "We will leave you gentlemen to your cigars; and when
+they have ceased to interest you, you will find us in the music room."
+
+"And you will sing?" said Maurice to the countess.
+
+"If you wish." She was almost beautiful when she smiled, and she smiled
+on Maurice.
+
+"I confess," said he, "that being a prisoner, under certain
+circumstances, is a fine life."
+
+"What wicked eyes he has," said the countess, as she and Madame entered
+the music room.
+
+"Do not look into them too often, my dear," was the rejoinder. "I have
+asked not other sacrifice than that you should occupy his attention and
+make him fall in love with you."
+
+"Ah, Madame, that will be easy enough. But what is to prevent me from
+falling in love with him? He is very handsome."
+
+"You are laughing!"
+
+"Yes, I am laughing. It will be such an amusing adventure, a souvenir
+for my old age--and may my old age forget me."
+
+The men lit their cigars and smoked in silence.
+
+"Colonel," said Maurice at last, "will you kindly tell me what all this
+means?"
+
+"Never ask your host how old his wine is. If he is proud of it, he will
+tell you." He blew the smoke under the candle shades and watched it as
+it darted upward. "Don't you find it comfortable? I should."
+
+"Conscience will not lie down at one's bidding."
+
+"I understood that you were a diplomat?" The Colonel turned to
+Fitzgerald. "I hope that, when you are liberated, you will forget the
+manner in which you were brought here."
+
+"I shall forget nothing," curtly.
+
+"The devil! I can not fight you; I am too old."
+
+Fitzgerald said nothing, and continued to play with his emptied
+wine-glass.
+
+"The Princess Alexia," went on the Colonel, "has a bulldog. I have
+always wondered till now what the nationality of the dog was. The
+bulldog neither forsakes nor forgives; he is an Englishman."
+
+This declaration was succeeded by another interval of silence. The
+Englishman was thinking of his father; the thoughts of Maurice were
+anywhere but at the chateau; the Colonel was contemplating them both,
+shrewdly.
+
+"Well, to the ladies, gentlemen; it is half after nine."
+
+The countess was seated at the piano, improvising. Madame stood before
+the fireplace, arranging the pieces on a chess board. In the center
+of the room was a table littered with books, magazines and illustrated
+weeklies.
+
+"Do you play chess, Monsieur?" said Madame to Fitzgerald.
+
+"I do not."
+
+"Well, Colonel, we will play a game and show him how it is done."
+
+Fitzgerald drew up a chair and sat down at Madame's elbow. He followed
+every move she made because he had never seen till now so round and
+shapely an arm, hands so small and white, tipped with pink filbert
+nails. He did not learn the game so quickly as might be. He, like
+Maurice, was pondering over the unusual position in which he found
+himself; but analysis of any sort was not his forte; so he soon forgot
+all save the delicate curve of Madame's chin and throat, the soft ripple
+of her laughter, the abysmal gray of her eyes.
+
+"Monsieur le Capitaine," said the countess, "what shall I sing to you?"
+
+"To me?" said Maurice. "Something from Abt."
+
+Her fingers ran lightly over the keys, and presently her voice rose in
+song, a song low, sweet, and sad. Maurice peered out of the window
+into the shades of night. Visions passed and repassed the curtain of
+darkness. Once or twice the countess turned her head and looked at him.
+It was not only a handsome face she saw, but one that carried the mark
+of refinement.... Maurice was thinking of the lonely princess and her
+grave dark eyes. He possessed none of that power from which princes
+derive benefits; what could he do? And why should he interest himself in
+a woman who, in any event, could never be anything to him, scarcely even
+a friend? He smiled.
+
+If Fitzgerald was not adept at analysis, he was. Nothing ever entered
+his mind or heart that he could not separate and define. It was strange;
+it was almost laughable; to have fenced as long and adroitly as he had
+fenced, and then to be disarmed by one who did not even understand the
+foils! Surrender? Why not?... By and by his gaze traveled to the chess
+players. There was another game than chess being played there, though
+kings and queens and knights and bishops were still the sum of it.
+
+"Are you so very far away, then?" The song had ceased; the countess was
+looking at him curiously.
+
+"Thank you," he said; "indeed, you had taken me out of myself."
+
+"Do you like chestnuts?" she asked suddenly.
+
+"I am very fond of them."
+
+"Then I shall fetch some." It occurred to her that the room was very
+warm; she wanted a breath of air--alone.
+
+"Checkmate!" cried the Colonel, joyfully.
+
+"Do you begin to understand?" asked Madame.
+
+"A little," admitted Fitzgerald, who did not wish to learn too quickly.
+"I like to watch the game."
+
+"So do I," said Maurice, who had approached the table. "I should like to
+know what the game is, too."
+
+Both Madame and the Colonel appeared to accept the statement and not the
+innuendo. Madame placed the figures on the board.
+
+Maurice strolled over to the table and aimlessly glanced through the
+Vienna illustrated weeklies. He saw Franz Josef in characteristic poses,
+full-page engravings of the military maneuvers and reproductions of the
+notable paintings. He picked up an issue dated June. A portrait of the
+new Austrian ambassador to France attracted his attention. He turned the
+leaf. What he saw on the following page caused him to widen his eyes and
+let slip an ejaculation loud enough to be heard by the chess players.
+Madame seemed on the point of rising. Maurice did not lower his eyes nor
+Madame hers.
+
+"Checkmate in three moves, Madame!" exclaimed the Colonel; "it is
+wonderful."
+
+"What's the matter, Maurice?" asked Fitzgerald.
+
+"Jack, I am a ruined man."
+
+"How? What?" nearly upsetting the board.
+
+"I just this moment remember that I left my gas burning at the hotel,
+and it is extra."
+
+The Colonel and Fitzgerald lay back in their chairs and roared with
+laughter.
+
+But Madame did not even smile.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. BEING OF LONG RIDES, MAIDS, KISSES AND MESSAGES
+
+Fitzgerald was first into bed that night.
+
+"I want to finish this cigar, Jack," said Maurice, who wished to be
+alone with his thoughts. He sat in the chair by the window and lifted
+his feet to the sill. The night wind was warm and odorous. He had
+found a clue, but through what labyrinth would it lead him? A strange
+adventure, indeed; so strange that he was of half a mind that he
+dreamed. Prisoners.... Why? And these two women alone in this old
+chateau, a house party. There lay below all this some deep design.
+
+Should he warn his friend? Indeed, as yet, of what had he to warn him?
+To discover Madame to Fitzgerald would be to close the entrance to this
+labyrinth which he desired to explore. How would Madame act, now that
+she knew he possessed her secret? Into many channels he passed, but
+all these were blind, and led him to no end. Madame had a purpose; to
+discover what this purpose was Fitzgerald must remain in ignorance. What
+a woman! She resembled one of those fabulous creatures of medieval days.
+And why was the countess on the scene, and what was her part in this
+invisible game?
+
+He finished his cigar and lit another; but the second cigar solved no
+more than the first. Mademoiselle of the Veil! He knew now what she
+meant; having asked her to lift her veil, she had said, "Something
+terrible would happen." At last he, too, sought bed, but he did not
+sleep so soundly as did Fitzgerald.
+
+Ten days of this charming captivity passed; there was a thicker carpet
+of leaves on the ground, and new distances began to show mistily through
+the dismantling forest. But there were no changes at the Red Chateau--no
+outward changes. It might, in truth, have been a house party but for
+the prowling troopers and the continual grumbling of the Englishman when
+alone with Maurice.
+
+During the day they hunted or took long rides into the interior of the
+duchy. Both women possessed a fine skill in the saddle. In the evenings
+there were tourneys at chess, games and music.
+
+Each night Fitzgerald learned a little more about chess and a little
+less about woman. The countess, airy and delicate as a verse of
+Voiture's, bent all her powers (and these were not inconsiderable)
+toward the subjugation of Maurice. She laughed, she sang, she
+fascinated. She had the ability to amuse hour after hour. She offered
+vague promises with her eyes, and refused them with her lips. Maurice,
+who was never impregnable under the fire of feminine artillery, was
+at times half in love with her; but his suspicions, always near the
+surface, saved him.
+
+Sometimes he caught her hand and retained it over long; and once, when
+he kissed it, there was no rebuke. Again, when she sang, he would lean
+so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek, and her fingers
+would stumble into discords. Often she would suddenly rise from the
+piano and walk swiftly from the room, through the halls, into the park,
+where, though he followed, he never could find her. One day she and
+Madame returned from a walk in the forest, the one with high color and
+brilliant eyes, the other impassive as ice. Now, all these things
+did not escape Maurice, but he could not piece them together with any
+result.
+
+On the morning of the tenth day the two prisoners came down to
+breakfast, wondering how much longer this house party was going to last.
+
+"George! I wish I had a pipe," said Maurice.
+
+"So do I," Fitzgerald echoed glumly. "I am tired of cigars and weary
+of those eternal cigarettes. How the deuce are we going to get out of
+this?"
+
+"What's your hurry? We're having a good time."
+
+"That's the trouble. Hang the duchess!"
+
+"Hang her and welcome. But why do you complain to me and not to Madame?
+Are you afraid of her? Does she possess, then, what is called tamer's
+magnetism? O, my lion, if only you would roar a bit more at her and less
+at me!"
+
+"I don't know what she possesses; but I do know that I'd give a deal to
+be out of this."
+
+"Is the chambermaid idea bothering you?"
+
+"No, Maurice, it is not the chambermaid. I feel oppressed by something
+which I can not define."
+
+"Maybe you are not used to tokay forty years old?"
+
+"Wine has nothing to do with it."
+
+He was so serious that Maurice dropped his jesting tone. "By the way,"
+he said, "do you sleep soundly?"
+
+"No. Every night I am awakened by the noise of a horse entering the
+court-yard."
+
+"So am I. Moreover, Madame seems to be troubled with the same
+sleeplessness.
+
+"Madame?"
+
+"Yes. She is so troubled with sleeplessness that nothing will quiet her
+but the sight of the man who rides the horse: all of which is to say
+that a courier arrives each night with dispatches from Bleiberg. Now, to
+tell the truth, the courier does not keep me awake half so much as
+the thought of who is eating three meals a day at the end of the east
+corridor on the third floor. But there are Madame and the countess; we
+have kept them waiting."
+
+"Good morning," said Madame, smiling as they came up. "And how have you
+slept?"
+
+"Nothing wakes me but the roll of the drum or thunder," answered
+Fitzgerald diffidently.
+
+"I dream of horses," said Maurice carelessly.
+
+"Bon jour, M. le Capitaine!" cried the countess. Then she added with
+a light laugh: "Come, let me try you. Portons armes! Presentons
+armes!--How beautifully you do it!--Par le flanc gauche! En
+avant--marche!"
+
+Maurice swung, clicked his heels and, with a covert glance at Madame,
+led the way into the dining hall, whistling, "Behold the saber of my
+father!"
+
+"Ah, I do not see the Colonel," said Maurice; for night and day the old
+soldier had been with them.
+
+"He has gone to Brunnstadt," said Madame, "but will return this
+evening."
+
+The breakfast was short and merry. Words passed across the table that
+were as crisp as the toast. Maurice remarked the advent of two liveried
+servants, stolid Germans by the way, who, as he afterward found, did not
+understand French.
+
+"So the Colonel has gone to Brunnstadt?" said Maurice; which was a long
+way of asking why the Colonel had gone to Brunnstadt.
+
+"Yes," said Madame; "he has gone to consult Madame the duchess to see
+what shall be done to you, Monsieur."
+
+"To be done to me?" ignoring the challenge in her eyes.
+
+"Yes. You must not forget that you promised me your sword, and I have
+taken the liberty of presenting it to her Highness."
+
+"I remember nothing about promising my sword," said Maurice, gazing
+ceiling-ward.
+
+"What! There was a mental reservation?"
+
+"No, Madame. I remember my words only too well. I said that I loved
+adventure, thoughtless youth that I was, and that I was easy to be
+found. Which is all true, and part proved, since I am here."
+
+"Still, the uniform fits you exceedingly well. The hussars hold a high
+place at court."
+
+"Madame," replied he pleasantly, "I appreciate the honor, but at present
+my sword and fealty are sworn to my own country. And besides, I have no
+desire to take part in the petty squabble between this country and the
+kingdom."
+
+The forecast of a storm lay in Madame's gray eyes.
+
+"Eh? You wish to placate me, Madame?" thought Maurice.
+
+"He is right, Madame," interposed the countess. "But away with politics!
+It spoils all it touches."
+
+"And away with the duchess, too," put in Fitzgerald, reaching for a
+bunch of yellow grapes. "With all due respect to your cause and beliefs,
+Madame the duchess, your mistress, is a bugbear to me. The very sound of
+the title arouses in my heart all that is antagonistic."
+
+"You have not seen her Highness, Monsieur," said Madame, quietly.
+"Perhaps she is all that is desirable. She is known to be rich, her
+will is paramount to all others. When she sets her heart on a thing she
+leaves no stone unturned until she procures it. And, countess, do
+they not say of her that she possesses something--an attribute--more
+dangerous than beauty--fascination?"
+
+"Yes, Madame."
+
+"Madame the duchess," said Maurice dryly, "has a stanch advocate in you,
+Madame."
+
+"It is not unnatural."
+
+"Be that as it may," said Fitzgerald, "she is mine enemy."
+
+"Love your enemies, says the Book," was the interposition of the
+countess, who stole a sly glance at Maurice which he did not see.
+
+"That would not be difficult--in some cases," replied the Englishman.
+
+"Ah, come," thought Maurice, "my friend is beginning to pick up his
+lines." Aloud he said: "Madame, will you confer a favor on me by
+permitting me to inform my superior in Vienna of my whereabouts?"
+
+"No, Monsieur; prisoners are not allowed to communicate with the outside
+world. Are you not enjoying yourself? Is not everything being done for
+your material comfort? What complaint have you to offer?"
+
+"A gilded cage is no less a cage."
+
+"It is but temporary. The duchess has commanded that you be held until
+it is her pleasure to come to the chateau. O, Monsieur, where is your
+gallantry? Here the countess and I have done so much to amuse you, and
+you speak of a gilded cage!"
+
+"Pretty bird! pretty bird!" said Maurice, in a piping voice, "will it
+have some caraway?"
+
+Madame laughed. "Well, I hear the grooms leading the horses under the
+porte cochere. Go, then, for the morning ride. I am sorry that I can not
+accompany you. I have some letters to write."
+
+Fitzgerald curled his mustache. "I'll forswear the ride myself. I
+was reading a good book last night; I'll finish it, and keep Madame
+company."
+
+Madame trifled with the toast crumbs. Fitzgerald's profound
+dissimulation caused a smile to cross Maurice's lips.
+
+"Come, countess," said Maurice, gaily; "we'll take the ride together,
+since Madame has to write and my lord to read."
+
+"Five minutes until I dress," replied the countess, and she sped away.
+
+"What a beautiful girl!" said Madame, fondly. "Poor dear! Her life has
+not been a bed of roses."
+
+"No?" said Maurice, while Fitzgerald raised his eyebrows inquiringly.
+
+"No. She was formerly a maid of honor to her Highness. She made an
+unhappy marriage."
+
+"And where is the count?" asked Fitzgerald in surprise. He shot a glance
+of dismay at Maurice, who, translating it, smiled.
+
+"He is dead."
+
+Fitzgerald looked relieved.
+
+"What a fine thing it is," said Maurice, rising, "to be a man and wed
+where and how you will!" He withdrew to the main hall to don his cap
+and spurs. As he stooped to strap the latter, he saw a sheet of paper,
+crinkled by recent dampness, lying on the floor. He picked it up--and
+read it.
+
+     "The plan you suggest is worthy of you, Madame. The
+     Englishman is fair game, being a common enemy. Let
+     us gain our ends through the heart, since his purse
+     is impregnable to assaults. But the countess? Why not
+     the pantry maid, since the other is an American? They
+     lack discrimination. The king grows weaker every
+     day. Nothing was found in the Englishman's rooms. I
+     fear that the consols are in the safe at the British
+     legation. As usual, a courier will arrive each night.
+                           B."
+
+
+
+"Why--not--the--pantry maid?" Maurice drawled. "That is flippant." He
+read the message again. "What plan?" Suddenly he struck his thigh. "By
+George, so that is it, eh, Madame? So that is why we are so comfortably
+lodged here? I am in the way, and you bait the hook with a countess!
+Since the purse will not lead the way, the heart, eh? Certainly I shall
+tell my lord the Englishman all about his hostess when I return from the
+ride. Decidedly you are clever. O, how careless! Not even in cipher, so
+that he who reads may run. And who is B.?--Beauvais! Something told me
+that this man had a hand in the affair. I remember the look he gave me.
+A traitor, too.
+
+"Hang my memory, which seems always to forget what I wish to remember
+and remember what I wish to forget! Where have I met this man Beauvais
+before? Ah, the countess!" He thrust the message into his breast.
+"Evidently Madame thinks I am worth consideration; uncommonly pretty
+bait. Shall I let the play run on, or shall I tell her? Ah! you have
+two minutes to spare," he said, as she approached. "But you do not need
+them," throwing a deal of admiration into his glance.
+
+"It does not take me long to dress--on occasions."
+
+"A compliment to me?" he said.
+
+"If you will accept it."
+
+It was an exhilarating morning, full of forest perfumes. Through the
+haze the mountains glittered like huge emeralds and amethysts.
+
+"What a day!" said the countess, as they galloped away.
+
+"Aye, for plots and war and love!"
+
+"For plots and war?" demurely. Her cheeks were rosy and her hair as
+yellow as the silk of corn.
+
+"Well, then, for love." He shortened his rein. "A propos, have you ever
+been in love, countess?"
+
+"I? What a question!"
+
+"Have you?"
+
+"N--no! Let us talk of plots and war," gazing across the valley.
+
+"No; let us talk of love. I am in love, and one afflicted that way
+wishes a confidant. I appoint you mine."
+
+"Some rosy-cheeked peasant girl?" laughing.
+
+"Perhaps. Perhaps it's only a--a pantry maid," with a sly look from the
+corner of his eyes. Evidently she had not heard. She was still laughing.
+"I have heard of hermits falling in love with stars, and have laughed.
+Now I am in the same predicament. I love a star--"
+
+"Operatic? To be sure! Mademoiselle Lenormand of the Royal Vienna is in
+Bleiberg. How she keeps her age!"
+
+It was Maurice's turn to laugh.
+
+"And that is why you came to Bleiberg! Ah, these opera singers, had I my
+way, they should all be aged and homely."
+
+"Countess, you are pulling the bit too hard," said he. "I noticed
+yesterday that your horse has a very tender mouth."
+
+"Thank you." She slacked the rein. "He was going too close to the ditch.
+You were saying--"
+
+"No, it was you who were saying that all actresses should be aged and
+homely. But it is not Mademoiselle Lenormand, it is not the peasant, nor
+the pantry maid."
+
+This time she looked up quickly.
+
+"The woman I love is too far away, so I am going to give up thinking of
+her. Countess, I made a peculiar discovery this morning."
+
+"A discovery, Monsieur? What is it?"
+
+"Do you see that fork in the road, a mile away? When we reach it and
+turn I'll tell you what it is. If I told you now it might spoil the
+ride. What a day, truly! How clear everything is! And the air is like
+wine." He drew in deep breaths.
+
+"Let us hurry and reach the fork in the road; my curiosity is stifling
+me."
+
+Maurice did not laugh as she expected he would. As she observed the
+thoughtful frown between his brows, a shiver of dread ran through her.
+It did not take long to cover the intervening mile. They turned, and the
+horses fell into a quick step.
+
+"Now, Monsieur; please!"
+
+After all... But he quelled the gentle tremor in his heart. A month
+ago, had he known her, he might now have told her altogether a different
+story. He could see that she had not an inkling of what was to come (for
+he had determined to tell her); and he vaguely wondered if he should
+bring humiliation to the dainty creature. It would be like nicking
+a porcelain cup. Her brows were arched inquisitively and her lips
+puckered....He had had a narrow escape.
+
+He drew the message from his breast, leaned across and handed it to her.
+
+"Why, what is this, Monsieur?"
+
+"Read it and see." And he busied himself with the tangled mane of his
+horse. When they had ridden several yards, he heard her voice.
+
+"Here, Monsieur." The hand was extended, but the face was averted.
+
+"Countess, you are too charming a woman to lend yourself to such
+schemes."
+
+There was no reply.
+
+"Did you not volunteer to make me fall in love with you to keep me from
+interfering with Madame's plans?" It was brutal, but he was compelled to
+say it.
+
+Silence.
+
+"Did you not?" he persisted. "When one writes such messages as these,
+one should use an intricate cipher. Had I been other than a prisoner,
+what I have done would not be the act of a gentleman. But I am a
+prisoner; I must defend myself. To rob a man through his love! And
+such a man! He is a very infant in the hands of a woman. He has been a
+soldier all his life. All women to him are little less than angels; he
+knows nothing of their treachery, their deceit, their false smiles. It
+will be an easy victory, or rather it would have been, for I shall do my
+best to prevent it. Madame is not unknown to me; I have been waiting to
+see what meant this peculiar house party.
+
+"Perhaps I am now too late. Madame distrusts me. I dare say she has her
+reasons. She went to you. You were to occupy me. I was young, I liked
+the society of women, I was gay and careless. She has decked me out as
+one would deck a monkey (and doubtless she calls me one behind my back),
+and has offered me a sword to play with.
+
+"In America, when a man puts a sword in his hand, it is to kill
+somebody. Here--aye, all over the continent, for that matter--swords are
+baubles for young nobles, used to slash each other in love affairs. I
+respect and admire you; had I not done so, I should not have spoken.
+Countess, be frank with me, as frank as I have been with you; have I not
+guessed rightly?"
+
+"Yes, Monsieur," her head bowed and her cheeks white. "Yes, yes! it was
+a miserable game. But I love Madame; I would sacrifice my pride and my
+heart for her, if need be."
+
+"I can believe that."
+
+"And believe me when I say that the moment I saw you, I knew that my
+conduct was going to be detestable. But I had given my promise. A woman
+has but little to offer to her country; I have offered my pride, and I
+am a proud woman, Monsieur. I am ashamed. I am glad that you spoke, for
+it was becoming unbearable to throw myself at a man whose heart I knew
+intuitively to be elsewhere." She raised her eyes, which were filled
+with a strange luster. "Will you forgive me, Monsieur?"
+
+"With all my heart. For now I know that we shall be friends. You will
+be relieved of an odious part; for you are too handsome not to have in
+keeping some other heart besides your own."
+
+He then began gaily to describe some of his humorous adventures, and
+continued in this vein till they arrived once more at the chateau.
+Sometimes the countess laughed, but he could see that her sprightliness
+was gone. When they came under the porte cochere he sprang from his
+horse and assisted her to dismount; and he did not relinquish her hand
+till he had given it a friendly pressure. She stood motionless on the
+steps, centered a look on him which he failed to interpret, then ran
+swiftly into the hall, thence to her room, the door of which she bolted.
+
+"It would not be difficult," he mused, communing with the thought which
+had come to him. "It would be something real, and not a chimera."
+
+He turned over the horses to the grooms, and went in search of
+Fitzgerald to inform him of his discovery; but the Englishman was
+nowhere to be found. Neither was Madame. Being thirsty, he proceeded to
+the dining hall. Fadette, the maid, was laying the silver.
+
+"Ah, the `pantry maid,'" he thought. "Good day, Fadette."
+
+"Does Monsieur wish for something?"
+
+"A glass of water. Thanks!"
+
+She retreated and kept her eyes lowered.
+
+"Fadette, you are charming. Has any one ever told you that?"
+
+"O, Monsieur!" blushing.
+
+"Have they?" lessening the distance between them.
+
+"Sometimes," faintly. She could not withstand his glance, so she retired
+a few more steps, only to find herself up with the wall.
+
+With a laugh he sprang forward and caught her face between his hands and
+imprinted a kiss on her left cheek. Suddenly she wrenched herself loose,
+uttered a frightened cry and fled down the pantryway.
+
+"What's the matter with the girl?" he muttered aloud. "I wanted to ask
+her some questions."
+
+"Ask them of me, Monsieur," said a voice from the doorway.
+
+Maurice wheeled. It was Madame, but her face expressed nothing. He saw
+that he had been caught. The humor of the situation got the better of
+him, and he laughed. Madame ignored this unseemly hilarity.
+
+"Monsieur, is this the way you return my kindness?"
+
+"Permit me to apologize. As to your kindness, I have just discovered
+that it is of a most dangerous quality."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I mean that I could not kiss Madame the countess with the same sense of
+security as I could the--pantry maid," bowing.
+
+Just now Madame's face expressed a good deal. "Of what are you talking?"
+advancing a step.
+
+"I had in mind what our friend, Colonel Beauvais, remarked in his recent
+dispatch: I know no discrimination. The fact is, I do. I found the
+dispatch on the floor this morning. Allow me to return it to you. I have
+kept silent, Madame, because I did not know how to act."
+
+"You have dared--?" her lips pressed and her eyes thunderous.
+
+"To read it? Aye. I am a prisoner; it was in self-defense. Madame, you
+do me great honor. A countess! What consideration to the indiscriminate!
+Au revoir, then, till luncheon;" and he left the room, whistling--
+
+Voici le sabre de mon pere!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. THE DENOUEMENT
+
+At no time during the afternoon did Maurice find the opportunity to
+speak privately to Fitzgerald. Madame hovered about, chatting, smiling
+and humming snatches of song. She seemed to have formed a sudden
+attachment for Maurice; that is to say, she could not bear to lose sight
+of him, not for the briefest moment.
+
+He swallowed his chagrin, for he could but confess that it was
+sugar-coated. Madame had at last considered his case, and had labeled
+him dangerous. Somehow a man always likes to be properly valued. It
+re-establishes his good opinion of himself.
+
+Well, well; however affectionate Madame might be, she could scarcely
+carry it beyond the threshold of his chamber, and he was determined to
+retire at an early hour. But he had many things to learn.
+
+Fitzgerald was abandoned to the countess, who had still much color to
+regain. From time to time the Englishman looked over his shoulder to see
+what was going on between Madame and his friend, and so missed half of
+what the countess said.
+
+"Come," thought Maurice, "it is time I made a play."
+
+The blackberries were ripe along the stone walls which surrounded the
+chateau. Maurice wandered here and there, plucking what fruit he could
+find. Now and then he would offer a branch to Madame. At length, as
+though by previous arrangement with Madame, the countess led Fitzgerald
+around to the other side of the chateau, so that Madame and Maurice were
+alone. Immediately the smile, which had rested on her lips, vanished.
+Her companion was gazing mountainward, and cogitating. How fared those
+in Bleiberg?
+
+"What a beautiful world it is!" said a low, soft voice close to his ear.
+
+Maurice resumed his berry picking.
+
+"What exquisite tints in the skies!" went on the voice; "what matchless
+color in the forests!"
+
+Maurice plucked a berry, ate it, and smacked his lips. It was a good
+berry.
+
+"But what a terrible thing it would be if one should die suddenly, or
+be thrown into a windowless dungeon, shut out from all these splendid
+reaches?"
+
+Maurice plucked another berry, but he did not eat it. Instinctively he
+turned--and met a pair of eyes as hard and cold and gray as new steel.
+
+"That," said he, "sounds like a threat."
+
+"And if it were, Monsieur, and if it were?"
+
+"If it were, I should say that you had discovered that I know too much.
+I suspected from the first; the picture merely confirmed my suspicions.
+I see now that it was thoughtless in me not to have told my friend; but
+it is not too late."
+
+"And why, I ask, have I not suppressed you before this?"
+
+"Till to-day, Madame, you had not given me your particular
+consideration." Then, as if the conversation was not interesting him, he
+returned to the berries. "There's a fine one there. It's a little high;
+but then!" He tiptoed, drew the branch from the wall, and snatched the
+luscious fruit. "Ah!"
+
+"Monsieur, attend to me; the berries can wait."
+
+"Madame, the life of a good blackberry is short."
+
+"To begin with, you say that I did not show you consideration. Few
+princes have been shown like consideration."
+
+"I was wrong. It is not every man that has a countess--and a pretty one,
+too!--thrown at his head."
+
+Madame was temporarily silenced by this retort; it upset her
+calculations. She scrutinized the clean, smooth face, and she saw lines
+which had hitherto escaped her notice. She was at last convinced that
+she had to contend with a man, a man who had dealt with both men and
+women. How deep was he? Could honors, such as she could give, and
+money plumb the depths?... He was an American. She smiled the smile of
+duplicity.
+
+"Monsieur," she said, "do you lack wealth?"
+
+"Yes, I lack it; but that is not to say that I desire it."
+
+"Perhaps it is honors you desire?"
+
+"Honors? To what greater honor may I aspire than that which is written
+in my passports?"
+
+"What is written in your passports?"
+
+"That I am a citizen of the United States of America. It would not be
+good taste in me to accept honors save those that my country may choose
+to confer."
+
+Again Madame found her foil turned aside. She began to lose patience.
+Her boot patted the sod. "Monsieur, since the countess is not high
+enough, since gold and honors have no charm, listen."
+
+"I am listening, Madame."
+
+"I permit you to witness the comic opera, but I shall allow no prompting
+from outsiders."
+
+"Madame, do you expect me to sit calmly by and see my friend made a
+fool?" He spoke warmly and his eyes remained steadfast.
+
+"Certainly that is what you shall do," coldly.
+
+"Madame, you are a beautiful woman; heaven has endowed you with
+something more than beauty. Is it possible that the gods forgot to mix
+conscience in the mold?"
+
+"Conscience? Royalty knows none."
+
+"Ah, Madame, wait till you are royal."
+
+"Take care. You have not felt my anger."
+
+"I would rather that than your love."
+
+She marveled at her patience.
+
+"If you have no conscience, Madame, I have. I shall warn him. You shall
+not dishonor him if I can prevent it. You wish to win his love, and you
+have gauged the possibilities of it so accurately that you know you will
+have but to ask, be it his honor or his life. A far finer thing it would
+be for you to win your crown at the point of the sword. There would be
+a little glory in it then. But even then, the world would laugh at you.
+For you would be waging war against a lonely woman, a paralytic king, a
+prelate who is a man of peace. What resistance could these three offer?
+
+"But to gain your ends by treachery and deceit, to rob a man of his
+brains and heart, laughing the while in your sleeve; to break his life
+and make him curse all women, from Eve to you and the mother who bore
+him! Ah, Madame, let me plead with you. Give him his liberty. Let him
+go back and complete the task imposed on him. Do not break his life,
+for life is more than a crown; do not compel him to sully his honor, for
+honor is more than life.
+
+"Your cause is just, I will admit, but do not tarnish it by such
+detestable means. 'Tis true that a crown to me signifies nothing, but
+life and honor are common to us both. With all his strength and courage,
+my friend is helpless. All his life he has been without the society of
+women. If he should love you--God help him! His love would be without
+calculation, without reason, blind and furious. Madame, do not destroy
+him."
+
+Sometimes, in the passing, we are stopped by the sound of a voice. It
+is not the words it utters, nor the range nor tone. It is something
+indefinable, and, though we can not analyze it, we are willing to follow
+wherever it leads. Such a voice Maurice possessed, though he was totally
+ignorant of its power. But Madame, as she listened, felt its magic
+influence, and for a moment the spell rendered her mute.
+
+"Monsieur, you have missed your vocation; you plead well, indeed.
+Unfortunately, I can not hear; my ears are of wax. No, no! I have
+nourished these projects too long; they are a part of me. Laughed at,
+you say? Have I not been laughed at from one end of the continent to
+the other?" passionately. "It is my turn now, and woe to those who have
+dared to laugh. I shall sweep all obstacles away; nothing shall stop me.
+Mine the crown is, and mine it shall be. I am a woman, and I wished to
+avoid bloodshed. But not even that shall stay me; not even love!" Her
+bosom heaved, her hands were clenched, and her gray eyes flashed like
+troubled waters in the sunlight.
+
+"Madame, if you love him--"
+
+"Well?" proudly.
+
+"No, I am wrong. If you loved him you would prize above all else this
+honor of which you intend to rob him."
+
+"I brought you here not to discuss whether I am right or wrong. Look
+about you."
+
+Maurice was somewhat troubled to discover several troopers lounging
+about just out of earshot. They were so arranged as to prevent egress
+from the park. He looked thoughtfully at the wall. It was eight feet in
+height.
+
+Madame saw the look, and said, "Corporal!"
+
+There was a noise on the other side of the wall, and presently a head
+bobbed up.
+
+"Madame?" inquired the head.
+
+"Nothing. I wished to know if you were at your post." She turned
+to Maurice, who was puzzled to know what all this was preamble to.
+"Monsieur Carewe, I never forget details. I had an idea that when
+I submitted my proposals to you, you might be tempted to break your
+parole."
+
+Maurice gnawed his lip. "Proceed, Madame."
+
+"There are only two. If you do not promise here and now in no way to
+interfere with my plans, these troopers will convey you to Brunnstadt,
+where you will be kept in confinement until the succession to the
+throne is decided one way or the other. The other proposal is, if you
+promise--and I have faith in your word--the situation will continue the
+same as at present. Choose, Monsieur. Which is it to be?"
+
+The devil gleamed in his eyes. He remained silent.
+
+"Well! Well!" impatiently.
+
+"I accept the alternative," with bad grace. "If I made a dash--"
+
+"You would be shot; those were my orders."
+
+"And if I went to prison--"
+
+"You would miss what you call the comic opera, but which to me is all
+there is in life. You say that I have read your friend well. That is
+true. Do you think that it is easy for me to lessen myself in my own
+eyes? No woman lives who is prouder than I. Remember, you are not to
+hint at what I propose to do, nor who I am. See! It is all because you
+read something which was not intended for your eyes. Be my friend, or be
+my enemy, it is a matter of indifference to me. You have only yourself
+to blame. Had you gone about your business and not intruded where
+you were not wanted, neither you nor your friend would be here. No
+interference from you, Monsieur; that is the understanding." She raised
+her hand and made a sign, and the troopers took themselves off. "Now you
+may go--to the countess, if you wish; though I dare say that she will
+not find you in the best of tempers."
+
+"I dare say she won't," said Maurice.
+
+
+
+Fitzgerald sat by a window in the music room. He had resurrected from no
+one knew where a clay with a broken stem. There was a thoughtful cast
+to his countenance, and he puffed away, blissfully unconscious of, or
+indifferent to, the close proximity of the velvet curtains. A thrifty
+housewife, could she have seen the smoke rise and curl and lose itself
+in the folds above, would have experienced the ecstasy of anxiety and
+perturbation. But there was no thrifty housewife at the Red Chateau,
+nothing but dreams of conquest and revenge.
+
+Twilight was gathering about, soft-footed and shadowful. Long reaches
+of violet and vermilion clouds pressed thickly on the western line of
+hills. The mists began to rise, changing from opal to sapphire. The
+fantastic melodies of wandering gypsy songs went throbbing through the
+room; rollicking gavots, Hungarian dances, low and slumbrous nocturnes.
+As the music grew sadder and dreamier, the smoker moved uneasily.
+
+Somehow, it gripped his heart; and the long years of loneliness returned
+and overwhelmed him. They marshaled past, thirteen in all; and there
+were glimpses of deserts, snowcapped mountains, men moving in the blur
+of smoke, long watches in the night. Thirteen years in God-forsaken
+outposts, with never a sight of a woman's face, the sound of her voice,
+the swish of her gown, nor a touch of the spell which radiates from her
+presence.
+
+He had never made friends. Others had come up to him and passed him, and
+had gone to the cities, leaving him to bear the brunt of the cold,
+the heat, the watchfulness. He had made his bed; he was too much his
+father's son to whine because it was hard. Often he used to think how a
+few words, from a pride humbled, would have removed the barrier. But the
+words never came, nor was the pride ever humbled.
+
+Out of all the thirteen years he could remember only six months of
+pleasure. He had been transferred temporarily to Calcutta, where his
+Colonel, who had received secret information concerning him, had treated
+him like a gentleman, and had employed him as regimental interpreter,
+for he spoke French and German and a smattering of Indian tongues.
+During his lonely hours he had studied, for he knew that some day he
+would be called upon to administer a vast fortune.... He laid the pipe
+on the sill, rested his elbows beside it, and dropped his chin in his
+hands. What a fool he had been to waste the best years of his life! His
+father would have opened to him a boundless career; he would have seen
+the world under the guidance of a master hand. And here he was to-day,
+the possessor of millions, a beggar in friends, no niche to fill, a
+wanderer from place to place.
+
+The old pile in England, he never wished to see it again; the memories
+which it would arouse would be too bitter.... The shade of Beethoven
+touched him as it passed; Mozart, Mendelssohn, Chopin. But he was
+thinking only of his loneliness, and the marvelous touch of the hands
+which evoked the great spirits was lost upon him.
+
+Maurice was seated in one of the gloomy corners. He had still much good
+humor to recover. He pulled at his lips, and wondered from time to time
+what was going on in Fitzgerald's head. Poor devil! he thought; could
+he resist this woman whose accomplishments were so varied that at one
+moment she could overthrow a throne and at the next play Phyllis to some
+strolling Corydon? Since he himself, who knew her, could entertain for
+her nothing but admiration, what hope was there for the Englishman? What
+a woman! She savored of three hundred years off. To plan by herself, to
+arrange the minutest detail, and above all to wait patiently! Patience
+has never been the attribute of a woman of power; Madame possessed both
+patience and power.
+
+The countess was seated in another dark corner. Suddenly she arose and
+said, in a voice blended with great trouble and impatience: "For pity's
+sake, Madame, cease those dirges! Play something lively; I am sad."
+
+The music stopped, but presently began again. Maurice leaned forward.
+Madame was playing Chopin's polonaise. He laughed silently. He was in
+Madame's thoughts. It struck him, however, that the notes had a defiant
+ring.
+
+"Lights!" called Madame, rising from the stool.
+
+Immediately a servant entered with candles and retired. Maurice, when
+his eyes had grown accustomed to the lights, scanned the three faces.
+Madame's was radiant. Fitzgerald's was a mixture--a comical mixture--of
+content and enjoyment, but the countess's was as colorless as the wax
+in the candlesticks. He asked himself what other task she had to perform
+that she should take so long to recover her roses. Had the knowledge of
+her recent humiliation been too much for her?
+
+She was speaking to him. "Monsieur, will you walk with me in the park? I
+am faint."
+
+"Are you ill, countess?" asked Madame, coming up and placing her hand
+under the soft round chin of the other and striving to read her eyes.
+
+"Not so ill, Madame, that a breath of fresh air will not revive me."
+When they had gained the park, the countess said to Maurice: "Monsieur,
+I have brought you here to tell you something. I fear that your friend
+is lost, for you can do nothing."
+
+"Not even if I break my word?" he asked.
+
+"It would do no good."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"It is too late," lowly. "I have been Madame's understudy too long not
+to read. Forgive me. I was to keep you apart; I have done so. The
+evil can not now be repaired. Your hope is that Madame has not fully
+considered his pride."
+
+"Has she any regard for him?"
+
+"Sentiment?--love?" She uttered a short, incredulous laugh. "Madame has
+brain, not heart. Could a woman with a heart plan as she plans?"
+
+"Well, let us not talk of plots and plans; let us talk of--"
+
+"Monsieur, do not be unkind. I have asked your forgiveness. Let us not
+talk; let us be silent and listen to the night;" and she leaned over the
+terrace balustrade.
+
+Maurice floated. As he leaned beside her a strand of perfumed hair blew
+across his nostrils. ... The princess was at best a dream. It was not
+likely that he ever would speak to her again. The princess was a poem,
+unlettered and unrhymed. But here, close to him, was a bit of beautiful
+material prose. The hair again blew out toward him and he moved his
+lips. She heard the vague sound and lifted her head.
+
+Far away came the call of the sentry; a horse whinneyed in the stables.
+There was in the air the odor of an approaching storm.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. WHOM THE GODS DESTROY AND A FEW OTHERS
+
+Some time passed before Fitzgerald became aware of Maurice's departure.
+When he saw that he and Madame were alone, he said nothing, but pulled
+all the quicker at his clay. He wondered at the desire which suddenly
+manifested itself. Fly? Why should he fly? The beat of his pulse
+answered him.... What a fine thing it was to feel the presence of a
+woman--a woman like this! What a fine thing always to experience the
+content derived from her nearness!
+
+He looked into his heart; there was no animosity; there was nothing at
+all but a sense of gratefulness. In the dreary picture of his life there
+was now an illumined corner. He had ceased to blame her; she was doing
+for her country what he, did necessity so will, would do for his. And
+after all, he could not war against a woman--a woman like this. His
+innate chivalry was too deep-rooted.
+
+How soft her voice was! The color of her hair and eyes followed him
+night and day. Once he had been on the verge of sounding Maurice in
+regard to Madame, Maurice was so learned in femininities; but this
+would have been an acknowledgment of his ignorance, and pride closed
+his mouth. It was all impossible, but then, why should he return to his
+loneliness without attempting to find some one to share it with him? The
+king was safe; his duty was as good as done; his conscience was at
+ease in that direction. He needed not love, he thought, so much as
+sympathy.... Sympathy. He turned over the word in his mind as a gem
+merchant turns over in his hand a precious jewel. Sympathy; it was the
+key to all he desired--woman's sympathy. There was nothing but ash in
+the bowl of his pipe, but he continued to puff.
+
+Madame was seated at the piano again, idly thrumming soft minor chords.
+She was waiting for him to speak; she wanted to test his voice, to know
+and measure its emotion. At times she turned her head and shot a sly
+glance at him as he sat there musing. There was a wrinkle of contempt
+and amusement lurking at the corners of her eyes. Had Maurice been there
+he would have seen it. Fitzgerald might have gazed into those eyes until
+doomsday, and never have seen else than their gray fathoms. Minute after
+minute passed, still he did not speak; and Madame was forced to break
+the monotony. She was not sure that the countess could hold Maurice very
+long.
+
+"Of what are you thinking, Monsieur?" she asked, in a soft key.
+
+He started, looked up and laid the pipe on the sill. "Frankly, I was
+thinking that nothing can be gained by keeping us prisoners here." He
+told the lie rather diffidently.
+
+"Not even forgiveness?" The lids of the gray eyes drooped and the music
+ceased.
+
+"Forgiveness? O, there is nothing to forgive you; it is only your
+mistress I can not forgive. On the contrary, there is much to thank you
+for."
+
+"Still, whatever I do or have done is merely in accordance with her
+Highness's wishes."
+
+He moved uneasily. "It is her will, not yours."
+
+"Yes; the heart of Madame Amerbach is supine to the brain of Madame the
+duchess." She rose and moved silently to the window and peered out. He
+thought her to be star-gazing; but she was not. She was endeavoring to
+see where Maurice and the countess were.
+
+"Madame, shall I tell you a secret?"
+
+"A secret? Tell me," sitting in the chair next to his.
+
+"This has been the pleasantest week I have known in thirteen years."
+
+"Then you forgive me!" Madame was not only mistress of music but of
+tones.
+
+"Yes."
+
+And then, out of the fullness of his lonely heart, he told her all about
+his life, its emptiness, its deserts, its longings. Each sentence was a
+knife placed in her hands; and as she contemplated his honest face which
+could conceal nothing, his earnest eyes which could hide nothing, Madame
+was conscious of a vague distrust of herself. If only he had offered to
+fight, she thought. But he had not; instead, he was giving to her all
+his weapons of defense.
+
+"Ah, Monsieur, you do wrong to forgive me!" impulsively.
+
+He smiled.
+
+"Why should you be friendly to me when I represent all that is
+antagonistic to you?"
+
+"To me you represent only a beautiful woman."
+
+"Ah; you have been taking lessons of your friend."
+
+"He is a good teacher. He is one of those men whom I admire. Women have
+never mastered him. He knows so much about them."
+
+"Yes?" a flicker in her eyes.
+
+"Beneath all his banter there is a brave heart. He is a rare man who,
+having brain and heart to guide, follows the heart." He picked up the
+pipe and began to play a tattoo on the sill. "As for me, I know nothing
+of women, save what I have read in books, and save that I have been too
+long without them."
+
+"And you have gone all these years without knowing what it is to love?"
+To a man less guileless, this question would not have been in good
+taste.
+
+Fitzgerald was silent; he dared not venture another lie.
+
+"What! you are silent? Is there, after all, a woman somewhere in your
+life?"
+
+"Yes." He continued to tap the pipe. His gaze wandered to the candles,
+strayed back to the window, then met hers steadfastly, so steadfastly,
+that she could not resist. She was annoyed.
+
+"Tell me about her."
+
+"My vocabulary is too limited. You would laugh at me."
+
+"I? No; love is sacred." She had boasted to Maurice that she was without
+conscience; she had only smothered it. "Come; is she beautiful?"
+
+"Yes." These questions disturbed him.
+
+"Certainly she must be worthy or you would not love her. She is rich?"
+
+"That does not matter; I am." He was wishing that Maurice would hurry
+back; the desire to fly was returning.
+
+"And she rejected you and sent you to the army?"
+
+"She has not rejected me, though I dare say she would, had I the
+presumption to ask her."
+
+"A faint heart, they say--"
+
+"My heart is not faint; it is my tongue." He rose and wandered about the
+room. Her breath was like orris, and went to his head like wine.
+
+"Monsieur," she said, "is it possible that you have succumbed to the
+charms of Madame the countess?"
+
+He laughed. "One may admire exquisite bric-a-brac without loving it."
+
+"Bric-a-brac! Poor Elsa!" and Madame laughed. "If it were the countess I
+could aid you."
+
+"Love is not merchandise, to traffic with."
+
+Madame's cheeks grew warm. Sometimes the trick of fence is beaten down
+by a tyro's stroke.
+
+"Eh, bien, since it is not the countess--"
+
+He came toward her so swiftly that instinctively she rose and moved
+to the opposite side of her chair. Something in his face caused her to
+shiver. She had no time to analyze its meaning, but she knew that the
+shiver was not unmixed with fear.
+
+"Madame, in God's name, do not play with me!" he cried.
+
+"Monsieur, you forget yourself," for the moment forgetting her part.
+
+"Yes, there is no self in my thoughts since they are all of you! You
+know that I love you. Who could resist you? Thirteen years? They are
+well wasted, in the end to love a woman like you."
+
+Before she could withdraw her hands from the top of the chair he had
+seized them.
+
+"Monsieur, release me." She struggled futilely.
+
+"I love you." He began to draw her from behind the chair.
+
+"Monsieur, Monsieur!" she, cried, genuinely alarmed; "do not forget that
+you are a gentleman."
+
+"I am not a gentleman now; I am a man who loves."
+
+Madame was now aware that what she had aroused could not be subdued by
+angry words.
+
+"Monsieur, you say that you love me; do not degrade me by forcing me
+into your arms. I am a woman, and weak, and you are hurting me."
+
+He let go her hands, and they stood there, breathing deeply and quickly.
+But for her it was a respite. She had been too precipitate. She brought
+together the subtle forces of her mind. She could gain nothing by force;
+she must use cunning. To hold him at arm's length, and yet to hold him,
+was her desire. She had reckoned on wax; a man stood before her. All at
+once the flutter of admiration stirred in her heart. She was a soldier's
+daughter, the daughter of a man who loved strong men. And this man was
+doubly strong because he was fearless and honest. She read in his eyes
+that a moment more and he had kissed her, a thing no man save her father
+had ever done.
+
+"O, Monsieur," she said lightly, "you soldiers are such forward lovers!
+You have not even asked me if I love you." He made a move to regain her
+hands. "No, no!" darting behind the chair. "You must not take my hands;
+you do not realize how strong you are. I am not sure that my heart
+responds to yours."
+
+"Tell me, what must I do?" leaning across the chair.
+
+"You must have patience. A woman must be wooed her own way, or not at
+all. What a whirlwind you are!"
+
+"I would to heaven," with a gesture indicative of despair, "that you
+had kept me behind bars and closed doors." He dropped his hands from the
+chair and sought the window, leaning his arms against the central frame.
+
+Madame had fully recovered her composure. She saw her way to the end.
+
+"It is true," she said, "that I do not love you, but it is also true
+that I am not indifferent to you. What proof have I that you really love
+me? None, save your declaration; and that is not sufficient for a woman
+such as I am. Shall I place my life in your hands for better or for
+worse, simply because you say you love me?"
+
+"My love does not reason, Madame."
+
+She passed over this stroke. "I do not know you; it is not less than
+natural for me to doubt you. What proof have I that your declaration
+of love is not a scheme to while away your captivity at my expense?
+My heart is not one to be taken by storm. There is only one road to my
+affections; it is narrow. Other men have made love to me, but they have
+hesitated to enter upon this self-same road."
+
+"Love that demands conditions? I have asked none."
+
+Madame blushed. "A man offers love; a woman confers it."
+
+"And what is this narrow road called which leads to your affections? Is
+your heart a citadel?"
+
+"It is called sacrifice. Those who dwell in my heart, which you call a
+citadel, enter by that road."
+
+"Sacrifice?" Fervor lighted his face again. "Do you wish my fortune? It
+is yours. My life? It is yours. Do you wish me to lead the army of the
+duchess into Bleiberg? It shall be done. Sacrifice? I have sacrificed
+the best years of youth for nothing; my life has been made up of
+sacrifices."
+
+"Monsieur, if I promised to listen to you here-after, if I promised a
+heart that has never known the love of man, if I promised lips that have
+never known the lips of any man save my father--" She moved away from
+the chair, within an arm's length of him. "If I promised all these
+without reservation, would you aid me to give back to the duchess her
+own?"
+
+Instantly her arms were pinioned to her sides, and he had drawn her so
+close that she could feel his heart beat against her own.
+
+"Have no fear," he said. The voice was unfamiliar to her ears. "I shall
+not kiss you. Let me look into your eyes, Madame, your eyes, and read
+the lie which is written there. My fortune and my life are not enough.
+Keep your love, Madame; I have no wish to purchase it. What! if I
+surrender my honor it is agreed that you surrender yours? A love such as
+mine requires a wife. You would have me break my word to the dead and
+to the living, and you expect me to believe in your promises! Faugh!" He
+pushed her from him, and resumed his stand by the window.
+
+The hate of a thousand ancestors surged into her heart, and she would
+have liked to kill him. Mistress! He had dared. He had dared to speak to
+her as no other man living or dead had dared. And he lived. All that
+was tigerish in her soul rose to the surface; only the thought of the
+glittering goal stayed the outburst. She had yet one weapon. A minute
+went by, still another; silence. A hand was laid tremblingly on his arm.
+
+"Forgive me! I was wrong. Love me, love me, if you must. Keep your
+honor; love me without conditions. I--" She stumbled into the chair,
+covered her eyes and fell to weeping.
+
+Fitzgerald, dumfounded and dismayed, looked down at the beautiful head.
+He could fight angry words, tempests of wrath--but tears, a woman's
+tears, the tears of the woman he loved!
+
+"Madame," he said gently, "do you love me?"
+
+No answer.
+
+"Madame, for God's sake, do not weep! Do you love me? If you love me--if
+you love me--"
+
+She sprang to her feet. Once again she experienced that shiver; again
+her conscience stirred.
+
+"I do not know," she said. "But this I may say: your honor, which you
+hold above the price of a woman's love, will be the cause of bloodshed.
+Mothers and wives and sisters will execrate your name, brave men will be
+sacrificed needlessly. What are the Osians to you? They are strangers.
+You will do for them, and uselessly, what you refuse to do for the woman
+you profess to love. I abhor bloodshed. Your honor is the offspring of
+pride and egotism. Can you not see the inevitable? War will be declared.
+You can not help Leopold; but you can save him the degradation of being
+expelled from his throne by force of arms. The army of the duchess is
+true to its humblest sword. Can you say that for the army of the king?
+Would you witness the devastation of a beautiful city, by flame and
+sword?
+
+"Monsieur, Austria is with us, and she will abide with us whichever
+way we move. Austria, Monsieur, which is Leopold's sponsor. And this
+Leopold, is he a man to sit upon a throne? Is he a king in any sense of
+the word? Would a king submit to such ignominy as he submits to without
+striking a blow? Would he permit his ministers to override him? Would he
+permit his army to murmur, his agents to plunder, his people to laugh
+at him, if he possessed one kingly attribute? No, no! If you were king,
+would you allow these things? No! You would silence all murmurs, you
+would disgorge your agents, you would throttle those who dared to laugh.
+
+"Put yourself in the duchess's place. All these beautiful lands are hers
+by right of succession; is she wrong to desire them? What does she wish
+to accomplish? She wishes to join the kingdom and the duchy, and to make
+a great kingdom, as it formerly was. Do you know why Leopold was seated
+upon the throne?
+
+"Some day the confederation will decide to divide all these lands into
+tidbits, and there will be no one to oppose them. Madame the duchess
+wishes to be strong enough to prevent it. And you, Monsieur, are the
+grain of sand which stops all this, you and your pride. Not even a
+woman's love--There, I have said it!--not even a woman's love--will move
+your sense of justice. Go! leave me. Since my love is nothing, since
+the sacrifice I make is useless, go; you are free!" The tears which came
+into her eyes this time were genuine; tears of chagrin, vexation, and of
+a third sensation which still remained a mystery to her.
+
+To him, as she spoke, with her wonderful eyes flashing, a rich color
+suffusing her cheeks and throat and temples, the dim candle light
+breaking against the ruddy hair; honor or pride, whichever it was, was
+well worth the losing. He was a man; it is only the pope who is said to
+be infallible. His honor could not save the king. All she had said was
+true. If he held to his word there would be war and bloodshed.
+
+On the other hand, if he surrendered, less harm would befall the king,
+and the loss of his honor--was it honor?--would be well recompensed for
+the remainder of his days by the love of this woman. His long years of
+loneliness came back; he wavered. He glanced first at her, then at the
+door; one represented all that was desirable in the world, the other
+more loneliness, coupled with unutterable regret. Still he wavered, and
+finally he fell.
+
+"Madame, will you be my wife?"
+
+"Yes." And it seemed to her that the word, came to her lips by no
+volition of hers. As she had grown red but a moment gone, she now grew
+correspondingly pale, and her limbs shook. She had irrevocably committed
+herself. "No, no!" as she saw him start forward with outstretched arms,
+"not my lips till I am your wife! Not my lips; only my hands!"
+
+He covered them with kisses.
+
+"Hush!" as she stepped back.
+
+It was time. Maurice and the countess entered the room. Maurice
+glanced from Madame to Fitzgerald and back to Madame; he frowned. The
+Englishman, who had never before had cause to dissemble, caught up his
+pipe and fumbled it. This act merely discovered his embarrassment to the
+keen eyes of his friend. He had forgotten all about Maurice. What would
+he say? Maurice was something like a conscience to him, and his heart
+grew troubled.
+
+"Madame," Maurice whispered to the countess, "I have lost all faith in
+you; you have kept me too long under the stars."
+
+"Confidences?" said Madame, with a swift inquiring glance at the
+countess.
+
+"O, no," said Maurice. "I simply complained that Madame the countess
+had kept me too long under the stars. But here is Colonel Mollendorf,
+freshly returned from Brunnstadt to inform you that the army is fully
+prepared for any emergency. Is not that true, Colonel?" as he beheld
+that individual standing in the doorway.
+
+"Yes; but how the deuce--your pardon, ladies!--did you find that out?"
+demanded the Colonel.
+
+"I guessed it," was the answer. "But there will be no need of an army
+now. Come, John, the Colonel, who is no relative of the king's minister
+of police, has not the trick of concealing his impatience. He has
+something important to say to Madame, and we are in the way. Come along,
+AEneas, follow your faithful Achates; Thalia has a rehearsal."
+
+Fitzgerald thrust his pipe into a pocket. "Good night, Madame," he said
+diffidently; "and you, countess."
+
+"Good night, Colonel," sang out Maurice over his shoulder, and together
+the pair climbed the stairs.
+
+Fitzgerald was at a loss how to begin, for something told him that
+Maurice would demand an explanation, though the affair was none of
+his concern. He filled his pipe, fired it and tramped about the room.
+Sometimes he picked up the end of a window curtain and felt of it;
+sometimes he posed before one of the landscape oils.
+
+"You have something on your mind," said Maurice, pulling off his hussar
+jacket and kicking it across the room.
+
+"Madame has promised to be my wife."
+
+"And the conditions?" curtly.
+
+Fitzgerald pondered over the other's lack of surprise. "What would you
+do if you loved a woman and she promised to be your wife?"
+
+"I'd marry her," sitting down at the table.
+
+"What would you do in my place, and Madame had promised to marry you?"
+puffing quickly.
+
+"I'd marry her," answered Maurice, banging his fist on the table, "even
+if all the kings and queens of Europe rose up against me. I would marry
+her, if I had to bind her hands and feet and carry her to the altar and
+force the priest at the point of a pistol, which, in all probability, is
+what you will have to do."
+
+"I love her," sullenly.
+
+"Do you know who she is?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Would it make any difference?"
+
+"No. Who is she?"
+
+"She is a woman without conscience; she is a woman who, to gain her
+miserable ends, will stop neither at falsehood, deceit nor bloodshed. Do
+you want me to tell you more? She is--"
+
+"Maurice, tell me nothing which will cause me to regret your friendship.
+I love her; she has promised to be my wife."
+
+"She will ruin you."
+
+"She has already done that," laconically.
+
+"Do you mean to tell me--"
+
+"Yes! For the promise of her love I am dishonored. For the privilege
+of kissing her lips I have sold my honor. To call her mine, I would go
+through hell. God! do you know what it is to be lonely, to starve in
+God-forsaken lands, to dream of women, to long for them?"
+
+"And the poor paralytic king?"
+
+"What is he to me?"
+
+"And your father?"
+
+"What are my dead father's wishes? Maurice, I am mad!"
+
+"You are a very sick man," Maurice replied crossly. "What's to become of
+all these vows--"
+
+"You are wasting your breath! Do you remember what Rochefoucauld said
+of Madame de Longueville?--`To win her heart, to delight her beautiful
+eyes, I have taken up arms against the king; I would have done the same
+against the gods!' Is she not worth it all?" with a gesture of his arms
+which sent the live coals of his pipe comet-like across the intervening
+space. "Is she not worth it all?"
+
+"Who?--Madame de Longueville? I thought she was dead these two hundred
+years!"
+
+"Damn it, Maurice!"
+
+"I will, if you say so. The situation is equal to a good deal of plain,
+honest damning." Maurice banged his fist again. "John, sit down and
+listen to me. I'll not sit still and see you made a fool. Promises?
+This woman will keep none. When she has wrung you dry she will fling
+you aside. At this moment she is probably laughing behind your back.
+You were brought here for this purpose. Threats and bribes were without
+effect. Love might accomplish what the other two had failed to do. You
+know little of the ways of the world. Do you know that this house party
+is scandalous, for all its innocence? Do you know that Madame's name
+would be a byword were it known that we have been here more than two
+weeks, alone with two women? Who but a woman that feels herself above
+convention would dare offer this affront to society? Do you know why
+Madame the countess came? Company for Madame? No; she was to play make
+love to me to keep me out of the way. Ass that I was, I never suspected
+till too late! Madame's name is not Sylvia Amerbach; it is--"
+
+The door opened unceremoniously and in walked the Colonel.
+
+"Your voices are rather high, gentlemen," he said calmly, and sat down
+in an easy chair.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. BEING OF COMPLICATIONS NOT RECKONED ON
+
+Maurice leaped to his feet, a menace in his eyes. The Colonel crossed
+his legs, rested his hands on the hilt of his saber, and smiled.
+
+"I could not resist the desire to have a friendly chat with you."
+
+"You have come cursed inopportune," snarled Maurice. "What do you want?"
+
+"I want to give you the countersigns, so that when you start for
+Bleiberg to-morrow morning you'll have no trouble."
+
+"Bleiberg!" exclaimed Maurice.
+
+"Bleiberg. Madame desires me to say to you that you are to start for
+that city in the morning, to fetch those slips of parchment which have
+caused us all these years of worry. Ah, my friend," to Fitzgerald,
+"Madame would be cheap at twenty millions! You sly dog! And I never
+suspected it."
+
+Fitzgerald sent him a scowl. "You are damned impertinent, sir."
+
+"Impertinent?" The Colonel uncrossed his legs and brought his knees
+together. "Madame has been under my care since she was a child,
+Monsieur; I have a fatherly interest in her. At any rate, I am glad that
+the affair is at an end. It was very noble in you. If I had had my way,
+though, it would have been war, pure and simple. I left the duchess in
+Brunnstadt this morning; she will be delighted to attend the wedding."
+
+"She will attend it," said Maurice, grimly; "but I would not lay odds on
+her delight. Colonel, the devil take me if I go to Bleiberg on any such
+errand." He went to the window seat.
+
+The Colonel rose and followed him. "Pardon me," he said to Fitzgerald,
+who did not feel at all complimented by Madame's haste; "a few words in
+Monsieur Carewe's ear. He will go to Bleiberg; he will be glad to go."
+He bent towards Maurice. "Go to Bleiberg, my son. A word to him about
+Madame, and off you go to Brunnstadt. Will you be of any use there?
+I think not. The little countess would cry out her pretty eyes if she
+heard that you were languishing in the city prison at Brunnstadt, where
+only the lowest criminals are confined. Submit gracefully, that is to
+say, like a soldier against whom the fortunes of war have gone. Go to
+Bleiberg."
+
+"I'll go. I give up." It was not the threat which brought him to this
+decision. It was a vision of a madonna-like face. "I'll go, John. Where
+are the certificates?"
+
+"Between the mattresses and the slats of my bed you will find a gun in
+a case. The certificates are in the barrels." His countenance did not
+express any particular happiness; the lines about his mouth were sharper
+than usual.
+
+"The devil!" cried the Colonel; "if only I had known that!" He laughed.
+"Well, I'll leave you. Six o'clock--what's this?" as he stooped and
+picked up Maurice's cast-off hussar jacket.
+
+"I was about to use it as a door mat," said Maurice, who was in a nasty
+humor. That Fitzgerald had surrendered did not irritate him half so
+much as the thought that he was the real puppet. His hands were tied, he
+could not act, and he was one that loved his share in games.
+
+The Colonel reddened under his tan. "No; I'll not lose my temper,
+though this is cause enough. Curse me, but you lack courtesy. This is my
+uniform, and whatever it may be to you it is sacred to me. You were not
+forced into it; you were not compelled to wear it. What would you do if
+a man wore your uniform and flung it around in this manner?"
+
+"I'd knock him down," Maurice admitted. "I apologize, Colonel; it was
+not manly. But you must make allowances; my good nature has suffered a
+severe strain. I'll get into my own clothes to-morrow if you will have
+a servant sew on some buttons and mend the collar. By the way, who is
+eating three meals a day in the east corridor on the third floor?"
+
+Their glances fenced. The Colonel rubbed his mustache.
+
+"I like you," he said; "hang me if I don't. But as well as I like you,
+I would not give a denier for your life if you were found in that
+self-same corridor. The sentinel has orders to shoot; but don't let that
+disturb you; you will know sooner or later. It is better to wait than be
+shot. A horse will be saddled at six. You will find it in the court. The
+countersigns are Weixel and Arnoldt. Good luck to you."
+
+"The same to you," rejoined Maurice, "only worse."
+
+The Colonel's departure was followed by a period of temporary
+speechlessness. Maurice smoked several "Khedives," while Fitzgerald
+emptied two or three pipe-bowls.
+
+"You seem to be in bad odor, Maurice," the latter ventured.
+
+"In more ways than one. Where, in heaven's name, did you resurrect that
+pipe?"
+
+"In the stables. It isn't the pipe, it's the tobacco. I had to break up
+some cigars."
+
+Then came another period in the conversation. It occurred to both that
+something yawned between them--a kind of abyss. Out of this abyss one
+saw his guilt arise.... A woman stood at his side. He had an accomplice.
+He had thrown the die, and he would stand stubbornly to it. His pride
+built yet another wall around him, impregnable either to protests or to
+sneers. He loved--that was recompense enough. A man will forgive himself
+of grave sins when these are debtors to his love.
+
+As for the other, he beheld a trust betrayed, and he was powerless to
+prevent it. Besides, his self-love smarted, chagrin made eyes at him;
+and, more than all else, he recognized his own share in the Englishman's
+fall from grace. It had been innocent mischief on his part, true, but
+nevertheless he stood culpable. He had no business to talk to a woman he
+did not know. The more he studied the aspects of the situation the more
+whimsical it grew. He was the prime cause of a king losing his throne,
+of a man losing his honor, of a princess becoming an outcast.
+
+"Your bride-elect," he said, "seems somewhat over-hasty. Well, I'm off
+to bed."
+
+"Maurice, can you blame me?"
+
+"No, John; whom the gods destroy they first make mad. You will come to
+your senses when it is too late."
+
+"For God's sake, Maurice, who is she?"
+
+"What will you do if she breaks her promise?" adroitly evading the
+question.
+
+"What shall I do?" He emptied the ashes from his pipe, and rose; all
+that was aggressive came into his face. "I will bind her hands and feet
+and carry her to the altar, and shoot the priest that refuses to marry
+us. O Maurice, rest easy; no woman lives who will make a fool of me, and
+laugh."
+
+"That's comfort;" and Maurice turned in.
+
+This night it was the Englishman who sat up till the morning hours.
+Sylvia Amerbach.... A fear possessed him. If it should be, he thought;
+if it should be, what then?
+
+
+
+Midnight in Madame's boudoir; no light save that which streamed rosily
+from the coals in the grate. The countess sat with her slippered feet
+upon the fender. She held in her hand a screen, and if any thoughts
+marked her face, they remained in blurred obscurity.
+
+"Heu!" said Madame from the opposite side; "it is all over. It was
+detestable. I, to suffer this humiliation! Do you know what I have done?
+I have promised to be his wife! His wife, I! Is it not droll?" There was
+a surprising absence of mirth in the low laugh which followed.
+
+"I trust Madame will find it droll."
+
+"And you?"
+
+"And I, Madame?"
+
+"Yes; did you not bring the clown to your feet?"
+
+"No, Madame."
+
+"How? You did not have the joy denied me--of laughing in his face?"
+
+"No, Madame." With each answer the voice grew lower.
+
+"Since when have I been Madame to you?"
+
+"Since to-day."
+
+Madame reached out a hand and pressed down the screen. "Elsa, what is
+it?"
+
+"What is what, Madame?"
+
+"This strange mood of yours."
+
+Silence.
+
+"You were gay enough this morning. Tell me."
+
+"There is nothing to tell, Madame, save that my sacrifices are at an
+end. I have nothing left."
+
+"What! You forsake me when the end is won?" in astonishment.
+
+"I did not say that I should desert you; I said that I had no more
+sacrifices to make." The Countess rose. "For your sake, Madame, because
+you have always been kind to me, and because it is impossible not to
+love you, I have degraded myself. I have pretended to love a man who saw
+through the artifice and told me so, to save me further shame. O Madame,
+it is all execrable!
+
+"And you will use this love which you have gained--this first love of
+a man who has known no other and will know no other while he lives!--to
+bring about his ruin? This other, at whose head you threw me--beware of
+him. He is light-hearted and gay, perhaps. You call him a clown; he
+is cunning and brave; and unless you judge him at his true value, your
+fabric of schemes will fall ere it reaches its culmination. Could even
+you trick him with words? No. You were compelled to use force. Is he not
+handsome, Madame?" with a feverish gaiety. "Is there a gentleman at your
+court who is a more perfect cavalier? Why, he blushes like a woman! Is
+there in your court--" But her sentence broke, and she could not go on.
+
+"Elsa, are you mad?"
+
+"Yes, Madame, yes; they call it a species of madness." Then, with a
+sudden gust of wrath: "Why did you not leave me in peace? You have
+destroyed me! O, the shame of it!" and she fled into her own room.
+
+Madame sat motionless. This, among other things, she had not reckoned
+on.
+
+Only the troopers and the servants slept in peace that night.
+
+Maurice was up betimes next morning. The hills and valleys lay under a
+mantle of sparkling rime, and the very air, keen of edge and whistling,
+glistened in the sunlight. The iron shoes of the horses beat sharply
+on the stone flooring of the court yard. Maurice examined his riding
+furniture; pulled at the saddle, tugged at the rein buckles, lifted the
+leather flaps and tried the stirrup straps. It was not that he doubted
+the ability of the groom; it was because this particular care was second
+nature to him.
+
+Fitzgerald watched him, and meditated. Some of his thoughts were not
+pleasant. His eyes were heavy. At times he would lift his shoulders and
+permit half a smile to flicker over his lips; a certain thought caused
+this. The Colonel sat astride a broad-chested cavalry horse, spotless
+white. He was going to accompany Maurice to the frontier. He had imbibed
+the exhilarating tonic of the morning, and his spirits ran high. At
+length Maurice leaped into the saddle, caught the stirrups well, and
+signaled to the Colonel that he was ready.
+
+"You understand, Maurice?" Fitzgerald asked.
+
+"Yes, John; all the world loves a lover. Besides, it is a glorious
+morning for a ride. Up, portcullis, down drawbridge!" waving his hand to
+the Colonel.
+
+And away they went through the gateway, into the frosted road. Maurice
+felt the spirit of some medieval ancestor creep into his veins and he
+longed for an hour of the feudal days, to rescue a princess from some
+dungeon-keep and to harry an over-lord. After all, she was a wonderful
+woman, and Fitzgerald was only a man. To give up all for the love of
+woman is the only sacrifice a man can make.
+
+"En avant!" cried the Colonel. "A fine day, a fine day for the house of
+Auersperg!"
+
+"And a devilish bad one for the houses of Fitzgerald and Carewe. Woman's
+ambition, coupled with her deceit, is the root of all evil; money is
+simply an invention of man to protect himself from her encroachments.
+Eve was ambitious and deceitful; all women are her daughters. When the
+pages of history grow dull--"
+
+"Time puts a maggot in my lady's brain," supplemented the Colonel. "It
+is like a row of dominoes. The power behind the throne, the woman behind
+the power; an impulse moves the woman, and lo! how they clatter down.
+But without woman, history would be poor reading. The greatest battles
+in the world, could we but see behind, were fought for women. Men are
+but footnotes, and unfortunately history is made up of footnotes. But it
+is a fine thing to be a footnote; that is my ambition.
+
+"Ah, if you but knew what a pleasure it is for an old man like me to
+have a finger in the game time plays! To meddle with affairs, directly
+or indirectly! Kingdoms are but judy shows, kings and queens but
+puppets; but we who pull the strings--Ah, that is it! To play a game of
+chess with crowns!"
+
+"There are exceptions; Madame seems to hold the strings in this
+instance."
+
+"Madame follows my advice in all she does."
+
+Maurice opened his eyes at this statement.
+
+"Would you believe an old man like me could lay such a train? All this
+was my idea. It was difficult to get Madame to agree with my views.
+War? I am not afraid of it; I am suspicious of it. One day your friend
+returned a personal letter of Madame's having written across it, `I
+laugh at you.' It was very foolish. No man laughs at Madame more than
+once. She will, one day, return this letter to him. A crown, a fine
+revenge, in one fell swoop."
+
+"She will ruin him utterly?"
+
+"Utterly."
+
+"Have you any idea what sort of man my friend is?"
+
+"He lacks the polish of a man of affairs, and he surrenders too easily."
+
+"He will never surrender--Madame."
+
+"How?"
+
+"You remember his father; he will prove his father's son, every inch of
+him. O, my Colonel, the curtain has only risen. One fine morning your
+duchy will wake up without a duchess."
+
+"What do you imply--an abduction?" The Colonel laughed.
+
+"That is my secret."
+
+"And the pretty countess?" banteringly.
+
+"It was rather bad taste in Madame. It was putting love and patriotism
+to questionable purposes. I am a gentleman."
+
+"It was out of consideration for you; Madame was not quite sure about
+you. But you are right; all of it has rather a dark shade. You may rob
+a man of his valuables and give them back; a broken word is not to be
+mended. Why did you keep the hiding place so secret? I could have got
+those consols, and all this would have been avoided."
+
+"How should I know where they were? It was none of my affair."
+
+"We are trusting you; I might have gone myself. You will return with the
+treasure. Why have I not asked your word? Curiosity will bring you back;
+curiosity. Besides this, you have an idea that with your presence about,
+a flaw in the glass may be found. Yes, you will be back. History is to
+be made; when you are old you will glance at the page and say: `Look
+there; rather a pretty bit, eh? Well, I helped to make it; indeed, had
+it not been for me and my curiosity it would not have been made at all.'
+Above all things, do not stop to talk to veiled women."
+
+There was a chuckling sound. "I say, your Englishman is clever now and
+then. In the gun barrels! Who would have looked for them there? But why
+did he come himself? Why did he not trust to his bankers? Why did he not
+turn over the affair to his representative, the British minister? There
+were a hundred ways of averting the catastrophe. Why did he not use
+a little fore-thought when he knew how anxious we were for his
+distinguished person?"
+
+"Why does the moon rise at night and the sun at dawn? I am no Cumaean
+Sybil. Perhaps it is the impulse which moves the woman behind the power
+behind the throne; they call it fate. Had I been in his place I dare say
+I should have followed his footsteps."
+
+Not long after they arrived at the frontier where they were to separate,
+to meet again under conditions disagreeable to both. The Colonel gave
+him additional instructions.
+
+"Go; return as quickly as possible."
+
+"Never fear; I should not like to miss the finale to this opera bouffe."
+
+"Rail on, my son; call it by any name you please, only do not interrupt
+the prompter;" and with this the Colonel waved him an adieu.
+
+Maurice began the journey through the mountain pass, thinking and
+planning and scheming. However he looked at the situation, the end
+was the same: the Osians were doomed. If he himself played false
+and retained the certificates until too late to be of benefit to the
+duchess, war would follow; and the kingdom would be soundly beaten....
+Would Prince Frederick still hold to his agreement and marry her Royal
+Highness, however ill the fortunes of war fared? There was a swift
+current of blood to his heart. The Voiture-verse of a countess faded
+away.... Supposing Prince Frederick withdrew his claims? Some day her
+Highness would be free; free, without title or money or shelter. It was
+a wild dream. Was there not, when all was said, a faint hope for his own
+affairs in the fall of Fitzgerald?
+
+She was lonely, friendless, personally known to few. Still, she would be
+an Osian princess for all her misfortunes. But an Osian princess was not
+so great that love might not possess her. Without royalty she would be
+only a woman. What would Austria do; what would Austria say? If Austria
+had placed Leopold on the throne, certainly it was to shut out the house
+of Auersperg.
+
+And who was this man Beauvais, who served one house openly and another
+under the rose? Where had he met him before, and why did the thought
+of him cause unrest? To rescue her somehow, to win her love, to see the
+glory of the world light the heavens in her eyes! If the dream was mad,
+it was no less pleasant.
+
+He was a commoner; he had nothing in the world but his brain and his
+arm. Fitzgerald, now, possessed a famous title and an ancient name.
+These kings and princes hereabout could boast of but little more than
+he; and there were millions to back him. He could dream of princesses
+and still be sane. Maurice did not envy the Englishman's riches, but he
+coveted his right of way.
+
+How often had he indulged in vain but pleasant dreams! Even in the old
+days he was always succoring some proud beauty in distress. Sometimes
+it was at sea, sometimes in railroad wrecks, sometimes in the heart of
+flames; but he was ever there, like a guardian angel. It was never the
+same heroine, but that did not matter; she was always beautiful and
+rich, high placed and lovable, and he never failed to brush aside all
+obstacles that beset the path to the church door. He had dreamed of
+paladins, and here at last was his long-sought opportunity--but he could
+do nothing! He laughed. How many such romances lay beneath the banter
+and jest of those bald bachelor diplomat friends of his? Had fate
+reserved him for one of these?
+
+It was noon when he entered the city of Bleiberg. He went directly to
+his hotel, where a bath and a change of clothes took the stiffness from
+his limbs. He was in no great hurry to go to the Grand Hotel; there was
+plenty of time. Happily there was no mail for him; he was not needed in
+Vienna.
+
+At two o'clock he set out for the lower town. On the way he picked up
+odd ends of news. The king was rapidly sinking; he had suffered another
+stroke, and was now without voice. There was unusual activity in
+the barracks. The students of the university were committing mild
+depredations, such as building bonfires, holding flambeau processions,
+and breaking windows which contained the photographs of Prince Frederick
+of Carnavia, who, strangely enough, was still wrapt in obscurity. When
+Maurice entered the Grand Hotel he looked casually among the porters,
+but the round-faced one was missing. He approached the desk. The
+proprietor did not recognize him.
+
+"No, my friend," said Maurice, affably, as a visitors' book was pushed
+forward, "I am not going to sign. Instead, I wish to ask a favor. A week
+ago a party of the king's troopers met upstairs."
+
+The proprietor showed signs of returning memory, together with a strange
+agitation.
+
+"There was a slight disturbance," went on Maurice, still using the
+affable tone. "Herr--ah--Hamilton, I believe--"
+
+The proprietor grew limp and yellow. "I--I do not know where he is."
+
+"I do," replied Maurice. "Don't you recognize me? Have I changed so
+since I came here to doctor a sprained ankle?"
+
+"You?--Before God, Herr, I was helpless; I had nothing to do with it!"
+terrified at the peculiar smile of the victim.
+
+"The key to this gentleman's room," was the demand.
+
+"I--"
+
+"The key, and be quick about it."
+
+The key came forth. "You will say nothing, Herr; it would ruin my
+business. It was a police affair."
+
+"Has any one been in this room since?"
+
+"No, Herr; the key has been in my pocket."
+
+"Where is the porter who brought me here?"
+
+"He was not a porter; he was with the police."
+
+Maurice passed up the stairs. He found the room in disorder, but a
+disorder rather familiar to his eyes. He had been the cause of most of
+it. Here was where he broke the baron's arm and thumped three others on
+the head. It had been a good fight. Here was a hole in the wall where
+one of the empty revolvers had gone--missing the Colonel's head by an
+inch.
+
+There was a smudge on the carpet made by the falling candles. He saw
+Fitzgerald's pipe and picked it up. No; the chamber maid had not yet
+been there. He went over to the bed, stared at it and shrugged. He
+raised the mattress. There was the gun case. He drew it forth and took
+out the gun, not, however, without a twist of his nerves.
+
+Four millions of crowns, a woman's love, the fall of one dynasty and the
+rise of another, all wadded in those innocent looking gun barrels!
+He hesitated for a space, then unlocked the breech and held the tubes
+toward the window. There was nothing in the barrels, nothing but the
+golden sunlight, which glinted along the polished steel.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. QUI M'AIME, AIME MON CHIEN
+
+On making this discovery Maurice was inclined to declaim in that
+vigorous vocabulary which is taboo. He had been tricked. He was no
+longer needed at the Red Chateau. Four millions in a gun barrel; hoax
+was written all over the face of it, and yet he had been as unsuspicious
+as a Highland gillie. Madame had tricked him; the countess had tricked
+him, the Colonel and Fitzgerald.
+
+That Madame had tricked him created no surprise; what irritated him most
+was the conviction that Fitzgerald was laughing in his sleeve, and that
+he had misjudged the Englishman's capacity for dissimulation. Very well.
+He threw the gun on the bed; he took Fitzgerald's pipe from his pocket
+and cast it after the gun, and with a gesture which placed all the
+contents of the room under the ban of his anathema, he strode out into
+the corridor, thence to the office.
+
+Here the message to Madame from Beauvais flashed back. The Colonel of
+the royal cuirassiers had lied; he had found the certificates. But still
+there was a cloud of mystery; to what use could Beauvais put them? He
+threw the key to the landlord.
+
+"You lied to me when you said that no one had entered that room," he
+said.
+
+"O, Herr, I told you that no one but the police had been in the room
+since your departure. They made a search the next morning. Herr Hamilton
+was suspected of being a spy of the duchy's. I could not interfere with
+the police."
+
+Maurice saw that there was nothing to be got from the landlord, who was
+as much in the dark as he. He passed into the street and walked without
+any particular end in view. O, he would return to the Red Chateau, if
+only to deliver himself of the picturesque and opinionated address on
+Madame. Once he saw his reflection in a window glass, and he stopped and
+muttered at it.
+
+"Eh, bien, as Madame herself says, we develop with crises, and certainly
+there is one not far distant. I never could write what I wish to say to
+Madame; I'll go back to-morrow morning."
+
+Situated between the university and the Grand Hotel on the left hand
+side of the Konigstrasse, east, stood an historical relic of the days
+when Austria, together with the small independent states, strove to
+shake off the Napoleonic yoke. In those days students formed secret
+societies; societies full of strange ritual, which pushed devotion
+to fanaticism, which stopped at nothing, not even assassination. To
+exterminate the French, to regain their ancestral privileges, to rescue
+their country from its prostrate humiliation, many sacrificed their
+lives and their fortunes.
+
+Napoleon found no means of reaching these patriots, for they could not
+be purchased. This convinced Napoleon of their earnestness, for he could
+buy kings and princes. The students were invisible, implacable, and many
+a brilliant officer of the imperial guard disappeared, never to return.
+
+This historic relic of the Konigstrasse had been the headquarters of one
+of the branches of these numerous societies; and the students still held
+to those ancient traditions. But men and epochs pass swiftly; only the
+inanimate remain. This temple of patriotism is simply an inn to-day,
+owned by one Stuler, and is designated by those who patronize it as "Old
+Stuler's." It is the gathering place of the students. It consists of a
+hall and a garden, the one facing the street, the other walled in at the
+rear.
+
+The hall is made of common stone, bald and unadorned save by four dingy
+windows and a tarnished sign, "Garten," which hangs obliquely over the
+entrance. At the curb stands a post with three lamps pendant; but these
+are never lit because Old Stuler can keep neither wicks nor glass beyond
+the reach of canes.
+
+Old Stuler was well versed in the peculiarities of students. In America
+they paint statues; in Austria they create darkness. On warm, clear
+nights the students rioted in the garden; when it rained, chairs and
+tables were carried into the hall, which contained a small stage and a
+square gallery. Never a night passed without its animated scene.
+
+Here it was that the evils of monarchical systems were discussed, the
+army service, the lack of proper amusement, the restrictions at the
+stage entrance to the opera; here it was that they concocted their
+exploits, fought their duels, and planned means of outwitting Old
+Stuler's slate.
+
+Stuler was a good general; he could keep the students in order, watch
+his assistants draw beer, the Rhine wine, and the scum (dregs of the
+cask, muddy and strong), and eye the accumulating accounts on the
+slate. This slate was wiped out once the month; that is to say, when
+remittances came from home. The night following remittances was a
+glorious one both to Stuler and the students. There were new scars, new
+subjects for debate, and Stuler got rid of some of his prime tokayer.
+The politics of the students was socialism, which is to say they were
+always dissatisfied. Tourists seldom repeated their visits to Stuler's.
+There was too much spilling of beer in laps, dumping of pipe ash into
+uncovered steins, and knocking off of stiff hats.
+
+It was in front of Old Stuler's that Maurice came to a pause. He had
+heard of the place and the praise of its Hofbrau and Munich beers. He
+entered. He found the interior dark and gloomy, though outside the sun
+shone brilliantly. He ordered a stein of Hofbrau, and carried it into
+the main hall, which was just off the bar-room. It was much lighter
+here, though the hall had the tawdry appearance of a theater in the
+day-time; and the motes swam thickly in the beams of sunshine which
+entered through the half-closed shutters. It was only at night that
+Stuler's was presentable.
+
+Scarcely a dozen men sat at the tables. In one corner Maurice saw what
+appeared to be a man asleep on his arms, which were extended the width
+of the table. It was the cosiest corner in the hall, and Maurice decided
+to establish himself at the other side of the table, despite the present
+incumbent. Noiselessly he crossed the floor and sat down. The light was
+at his back, leaving his face in the shadow, but shone squarely on the
+sleeper's head.
+
+"I do not envy his headache when he wakes up," thought Maurice. He had
+detected the vinous odor of the sleeper's breath. "These headaches,
+while they last, are bad things. I know; I've had 'em. I wonder,"
+lifting the stein and draining it, "who the duffer was who said that
+getting drunk was fun? His name has slipped my memory; no matter." He
+set down the stein and banged the lid.
+
+The sleeper stirred. "Rich," he murmured; "rich, rich! I'm rich! A
+hundred thousand crowns!"
+
+"My friend, I'm not in the position to dispute with you on that
+subject," said Maurice, smiling. He rapped the stein again.
+
+The sleeper raised his head and stared stupidly,
+
+"Rich, aye, rich!" He was still in half a dream. "Rich, I say!"
+
+"Hang it, I'm not arguing on that," Maurice laughed.
+
+The other swung upright at this, his round, oily face sodden, his black
+eyes blinking. He threw off the stupor when he saw that it was a man and
+not the shadow of one.
+
+"Who the devil are you?" he asked, thickly.
+
+Maurice seldom forgot a face. He recognized this one. "Oho!" he said,
+"so it's you, eh? I did not expect to meet you. Happily I had you in
+mind. You are not employed at present as a porter at the Grand Hotel? So
+it is you, my messenger!"
+
+"Who are you and what are you talking about? I don't know you."
+
+"Wait a moment and I'll refresh your memory." Maurice theatrically
+thrust a cigar between his teeth and struck a match. As the flame
+illumined his features the questioner started. "So you do not recognize
+me, eh? You haven't the slightest remembrance of Herr Hamilton and his
+sprained ankle, eh? Sit down or I'll break your head with this stein,
+you police spy!" dropping the bantering tone.
+
+The other sat down, but he whistled sharply; and Maurice saw the dozen
+or so rise from the other tables and come hurriedly in his direction. He
+pushed back his chair and rose, his teeth firmly embedded in the cigar,
+and waited.
+
+"What's the trouble, Kopf?" demanded the newcomers.
+
+"This fellow accuses me of being a spy and threatens to break my head."
+
+"O! break your head, is it? Let us see. Come, brothers; out with this
+fellow."
+
+Maurice saw that they were about to charge him, and his hand went to his
+hip pocket and rested on the butt of the revolver which the Colonel had
+given him. "Gentlemen," he said, quietly, "I have no discussion with
+you. I have a pistol in my pocket, and I'm rather handy with it. I
+desire to talk to this man, and talk to him I will. Return to your
+tables; the affair doesn't concern you."
+
+The intended assault did not materialize. They scowled, but retired a
+few paces. They saw the movement toward the hip pocket, and they noted
+the foreign twist of the tongue. Moreover, they did not like the angle
+of the speaker's jaws. They shuffled, looked questioningly at one
+another, and, as if all of a single mind, went slowly back to their
+chairs. Kopf grew pale. Indeed, his pallor was out of all proportion
+with the affair, which Maurice took to be no more than a comedy.
+
+"Brothers," he said, huskily, "he will not dare."
+
+"Don't you doubt it for a moment," interrupted Maurice, taking out the
+revolver and fondling it. "Any interference will mean one or more cases
+for the hospital. Come, I'm not the police," to Kopf. "I am not going
+to hurt you. I wish only to ask you a few questions, which is my right
+after what has passed between us. We'll go to my hotel, where we shan't
+be disturbed."
+
+Together they left the hall. As they passed through the bar-room Stuler
+looked questions, but refrained from asking them. Maurice put away the
+revolver. As they went out into the street he drew Kopf's arm within his
+own.
+
+"What do you want?" asked Johann, savagely.
+
+"First. What is your place in this affair?"
+
+"What affair?"
+
+"The abduction."
+
+"I had nothing to do with it, Herr, on my honor. I was only a porter,
+and I supposed my errand was in good faith."
+
+"How about the gentle push you gave me when the door opened? My friend,
+I'm no infant. Lies will do you no good. I know everything, and wish
+only to verify. You are a police spy, in the employ of the duchess."
+Maurice felt the arm draw, and bore down on it.
+
+"If I was, do you suppose I'd fool my time on this side of the
+Thalians?" Johann shrugged.
+
+"I'm not sure about that," said Maurice, puffing into Johann's face.
+"When cabinet ministers play spy, small fry like you will not cavil at
+the occupation. And you are not in their pay?" Johann glared. "I want
+to know," Maurice went on, "what you know; what you know of Colonel
+Beauvais, his plans, his messengers to the duchy, what is taking place
+underneath."
+
+Johann's face cleared and a cunning light brightened his eyes. "If that
+is all you are after, I'll tell you. I'm a spy no longer; they have no
+more use for me, despite their promises. I'll play them off for quits."
+
+"If that's all," repeated Maurice, "what did you think I wanted to ask
+you?"
+
+Johann bit his lip. "I'm wanted badly by the chancellor, curse you, if
+you must know. I thought he might be behind you."
+
+"Don't worry about that," said Maurice, to whom this declaration seemed
+plausible. "We'll talk as we go along."
+
+And Johann loosened his tongue and poured into Maurice's ear a tale
+which, being half a truth, had all the semblance of straightforwardness.
+What he played for was time; to gain time and to lull his captor's
+suspicions. Maurice was not familiar with the lower town; Johann was.
+A few yards ahead there was an alley he knew, and once in it he could
+laugh at all pursuit. It might be added that if Maurice knew but little
+of the lower town, he knew still less about Johann.
+
+Suddenly, in the midst of his narrative, Johann put his leg stiffly
+between his enemy's and gave a mighty jerk with his arm, with the result
+that Maurice, wholly unprepared, went sprawling to the pavement. He was
+on his feet in an instant, but Johann was free and flying up the alley.
+Maurice gave chase, but uselessly. Johann had disappeared. The alley was
+a cul de sac, but was lined with doors; and these Maurice hammered to
+ease his conscience. No one answered. Deeply disgusted with his lack of
+caution, Maurice regained the street, where he brushed the dust from his
+knees.
+
+"I'll take it out of his hide the next time we meet. He wasn't worth the
+trouble, anyway."
+
+A sybil might have whispered in his ear that a very large fish had
+escaped his net, but Maurice continued, conscious of nothing save
+chagrin and a bruised knee. He resumed the piecing together of events,
+or rather he attempted to; very few pieces could be brought together. If
+Beauvais had the certificates, what was his object in lying to Madame?
+What benefit would accrue to him? After all, it was a labyrinth of paths
+which always brought him up to the beginning. He drooped his shoulders
+dejectedly. There was nothing left for him to do but return to the Red
+Chateau and inform them of the fruitlessness of his errand. He would
+start on the morrow. Tonight he wanted once more to hear the band,
+to wander about the park, to row around the rear of the archbishop's
+garden.
+
+"A fine thing to be born in purple--sometimes," he mused. "I never knew
+till now the inconveniences of the common mold."
+
+He tramped on, building chateaux en Espagne. That they tumbled down did
+not matter; he could rebuild in the space of a second, and each castle
+an improvement on its predecessor.
+
+His attention was suddenly drawn away from this idle but pleasant
+pursuit. In a side street he saw twenty or thirty students surging back
+and forth, laughing and shouting and jostling. In the center of this
+swaying mass canes rose and fell. It was a fight, and as he loved a
+fight, Maurice pressed his hat firmly on his head and veered into
+the side street. He looked around guiltily, and was thankful that no
+feminine eyes were near to offer him their reproaches. He jostled among
+the outer circle, but could see nothing. He stooped. Something white
+flashed this way and that, accompanied by the sound of low growls. A dog
+fight was his first impression, and he was on the point of leaving, for,
+while he secretly enjoyed the sight of two physically perfect men waging
+battle, he had not the heart to see two brutes pitted against each
+other, goaded on by brutes of a lower caste. But even as he turned the
+crowd opened and closed, and the brief picture was enough for him.
+
+Her dog! And the students were beating it because they knew it to be
+defenseless. Her dog! toothless and old, who could not hold when his
+jaws closed on an arm or leg, but who, with that indomitable courage of
+his race, fought on and on, hopelessly and stubbornly.
+
+He was covered with blood, one of his legs was hurt, but still the
+spirit burned. It was cowardly. Maurice's jaws assumed a particularly
+ferocious angle. Her dog! Rage choked him. With an oath he flung this
+student aside and that, fought his way to the center. A burly student,
+armed with a stout cane, was the principal aggressor.
+
+Maurice doubled his fist and swung a blow which had one hundred and
+sixty pounds behind it, and it landed squarely on the cheek of the
+student, who dropped face downward and lay still. This onslaught was so
+sudden and unexpected that the students were confounded. But Maurice,
+whose plans crystallized in moments like these, picked up the cane and
+laid it about him.
+
+The students swore and yelled and stumbled over one another in their
+wild efforts to dodge the vindictive cane. Maurice cleared a wide
+circle. The dog, half blinded by his blood and not fully comprehending
+this new phase in the tide of events, lunged at Maurice, who nimbly
+eluded him. Finally the opportunity came. He flung the cane into the
+yelling pack, with his left arm caught the dog about the middle, and
+leaped back into the nearest doorway. The muscles of his left arm were
+sorely tried; the dog considered his part in the fray by no means ended,
+and he tugged and yelped huskily. With his right hand Maurice sought his
+revolver, cocked and leveled it. There came a respite. The students
+had not fully recovered from their surprise, and the yells sank into
+murmurs.
+
+"You curs!" said Maurice, panting. "Shame on you! and an old dog that
+can't defend himself! You knew he had no teeth."
+
+"God save your Excellency!" laughed a student in the rear, who had not
+tasted the cane; "you may be sure we knew he had no teeth or we wouldn't
+have risked our precious calves. Don't let him scare you with the
+popgun, comrades. At him, my brave ones; he will be more sport than the
+dog! Down with the Osians, dogs, followers and all!"
+
+"Come on, then," said Maurice, whose fighting blood was at heat. "Come
+on, if you think it isn't over. There are six bullets in this popgun,
+and I don't give a particular damn where they go. Come on!"
+
+Whether or not this challenge would have been accepted remains
+unwritten. There now came on the air the welcome sound of galloping
+hoofs, and presently two cuirassiers wheeled into the street. What
+Maurice had left undone with the cane the cuirassiers completed with the
+flat of their sabers. They had had a brush with the students the night
+before, and they went at them as if determined to take both interest and
+principal. The students dispersed like leaves in the wind--all save one.
+He rose to his feet, his hands covering his jaw and a dazed expression
+in his eyes. He saw Maurice with the revolver, the cuirassiers with
+their sabers, and the remnant of his army flying to cover, and he
+decided to follow their example. The scene had changed somewhat since he
+last saw it. He slunk off at a zigzag trot.
+
+One of the cuirassiers dismounted, his face red from his exertions.
+
+"Eh?" closely scanning Maurice's white face. "Well, well! is it you,
+Monsieur Carewe?"
+
+"Lieutenant von Mitter?" cried Maurice, dropping the dog, who by now had
+grasped the meaning of it all. "You came just in time!"
+
+They shook hands.
+
+"I'll lay odds that you put up a good fight," the Lieutenant said,
+pleasantly. "Curse these students! If I had my way I'd coop them all up
+in their pest-hole of a university and blow them into eternity."
+
+"And how did the dog come in this part of the town?" asked Maurice,
+picking up his hat.
+
+"He was with her Royal Highness. This is charity afternoon. She drives
+about giving alms to the poor, and when she enters a house the dog
+stands at the entrance to await her return. She came out of another door
+and forgot the dog. Max there remembered him only when we were several
+blocks away. A dozen or so of those rascally students stood opposite us
+when we stopped here. It flashed on me in a minute why the dog did not
+follow us. And we came back at a cut, leaving her Highness with no one
+but the groom. Max, take the dog to her Highness, and tell her that it
+is Monsieur Carewe who is to be thanked."
+
+Maurice blushed. "Say nothing of my part in the fracas. It was nothing
+at all."
+
+"Don't be modest, my friend," said the cuirassier, laughing, while his
+comrade dismounted, took the dog under his arm, and made off. "This is
+one chance in a lifetime. Her Royal Highness will insist on thanking
+you personally. O, I know Mademoiselle's caprices. And there's your
+hat, crushed all out of shape. Truly, you are unfortunate with your
+headgear."
+
+"It's felt," said Maurice, slapping it against his leg. "No harm done to
+the hat. Well, good day to you, Lieutenant, and thanks. I must be off."
+
+"Nay, nay!" cried the Lieutenant. "Wait a moment. `There is a tide in
+the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood--' How does that line go?
+I was educated in England and speak English as I do my mother tongue--"
+
+"Won't you let me go?" asked Maurice. "Look at my clothes."
+
+"You ought to be thankful that they are dry this time. Come; you'll have
+a good story to carry back to Vienna. Princesses do not eat people."
+
+"No," said Maurice.
+
+"Ye gods, listen to that! One would think by the tone of your voice that
+you wished they did!"
+
+There was no resisting this good humor; and Maurice wanted only an
+excuse to wait. He sat down on the steps, sucked the knuckles of his
+hand, and contemplated the grin on the cuirassier's face.
+
+"I like you," said the Lieutenant; "I like your sangfroid. The palace is
+a devil of a dull place, and a new face is a positive relief. I suppose
+you know that affairs here are bad; no honesty anywhere. Everybody has
+his hands tied. The students know this, and do as they please. Think of
+two hundred gendarmes in the city, and an affair like this takes place
+without one of them turning up!
+
+"I tell you frankly that it is all I can do to withhold the edge of my
+saber when I meet those students. Last night they held a noisy flambeau
+procession around the Hohenstaufenplatz, knowing full well that the king
+had had another stroke and quiet was necessary. They would have waked
+the dead. I have an idea that I forgot to use the flat of my sword; at
+least, the hospital report confirms my suspicions. Ah, here comes Max."
+
+"Her Royal Highness desires to thank Monsieur Carewe, and commands that
+he be brought to her carriage."
+
+Lieutenant von Mitter smiled, and Maurice stood up and brushed himself.
+The troopers sprang into the saddle and started on a walk, with Maurice
+bringing up behind on foot. The thought of meeting the princess,
+together with his recent exertions, created havoc with his nerves. When
+he arrived at the royal carriage, his usual coolness forsook him. He
+fumbled with his hat, tongue-tied. He stood in the Presence.
+
+"Monsieur," said the Voice, "I thank you with all my heart for your
+gallant service. Poor, poor dog!"
+
+"It was nothing, your Highness; any man would have done the same thing."
+The red in the wheel-spokes bothered his eyes.
+
+"No, no! you must not belittle it."
+
+"If it had not been for Lieutenant von Mitter--"
+
+"Whither were you going, Monsieur?" interrupted the Voice.
+
+"Nowhere; that is, I was going toward my hotel."
+
+"The Continental?"
+
+"Yes, your Highness."
+
+"Step into the carriage, Monsieur;" the Voice had the ring of command.
+"I will put you down there. It is the least that I can do to show my
+gratitude."
+
+"I--I to ride with your Highness?" he stammered. "O, no! I--that is--it
+would scarcely be--"
+
+"You are not afraid of me, Monsieur?" with a smile which, though it had
+a bit of the rogue in it, was rather sad. She moved to the other side of
+the seat and put the dog on the rug at her feet. "Perhaps you are proud?
+Well, Monsieur, I too am proud; so proud that I promise never to forgive
+you if you refuse to gratify my wish."
+
+"I was not thinking of myself, your Highness, or rather I was. I am not
+presentable. Look at me; my hat is out of shape, my clothes dusty, and I
+dare say that my face needs washing."
+
+The Presence replied to this remarkable defense with laughter, laughter
+in which Maurice detected an undercurrent of bitterness.
+
+"Monsieur Carewe, you are not acquainted with affairs in Bleiberg, or
+you would know that I am a nobody. When I pass through the streets I
+attract little attention, I receive no homage. Enter: I command it."
+
+"If your Highness commands--"
+
+"I do command it," imperiously. "And you would have pleased me more
+fully if you had accepted the invitation and not obeyed the command."
+
+"I withdraw all objections," he said hastily, "and accept the
+invitation."
+
+"That is better," the Voice said.
+
+Maurice, still uncovered, sat down on the front seat.
+
+"Not there, Monsieur; beside me. Etiquette does not permit you to ride
+in front of me."
+
+As he took the vacant place beside her he felt a fire in his cheeks. The
+Voice and Presence were disquieting. As the groom touched the horses,
+Maurice was sensible of her sleeve against his, and he drew away. The
+Presence appeared unmindful.
+
+"And you recognize me?" she asked.
+
+"Yes, your Highness." He tried to remember what he had said to her that
+day in the archbishop's garden. Two or three things came back and the
+color remounted his cheeks.
+
+"Have you forgotten what you said to me?"
+
+"I dare say I was impertinent," vaguely.
+
+"Ah, you have forgotten, then!"
+
+In all his life he never felt so ill at ease. To what did she refer?
+That he would be proud to be her friend? That if the princess was as
+beautiful as the maid he could pass judgment?
+
+"Yes, you have forgotten. Do you not remember that you offered to be
+my friend?" She read him through and through, his embarrassment, the
+tell-tale color in his cheeks. She laughed, and there was nothing but
+youth in the laughter. "Certainly you are afraid of me."
+
+"I confess I am," he said. "I can not remember all I said to you."
+
+Suddenly she, too, remembered something, and it caused the red of the
+rose to ripple from her throat to her eyes. "Poor dog! Not that they
+hated him, but because I love him!" Tears started to her eyes. "See,
+Monsieur Carewe; princesses are human, they weep and they love. Poor
+dog! My playmate and my friend. But for you they might have killed him.
+Tell me how it happened." She knew, but she wanted to hear the story
+from his own lips.
+
+His narrative was rather disjointed, and he slipped in von Mitter as
+many times as possible, thinking to do that individual a good turn.
+Perhaps she noticed it, for at intervals she smiled. During the telling
+he took out his handkerchief, wiped the dog's head with it, and wound it
+tightly about the injured leg. The dog knew; he wagged his tail.
+
+How handsome and brave, she thought, as she observed the face in
+profile. Not a day had passed during the fortnight gone that she had not
+conjured up some feature of that intelligent countenance; sometimes it
+had been the eyes, sometimes the chin and mouth, sometimes the shapely
+head. It was wrong; but this little sin was so sweet. She had never
+expected to see him again. He had come and gone, and she had thought
+that the beginning and the end. Ah, if only she were not a princess! If
+only some hand would sweep aside those insurmountable barriers called
+birth and policy! To be free, to be the mistress of one's heart, one's
+dreams, one's desires!
+
+"And you did it all alone," she said, softly; "all alone."
+
+"O, I had the advantage; I was not expected. It was all over before they
+knew what had happened."
+
+"And you had the courage to take a poor dog's part? Did you know whose
+dog it was?"
+
+"Yes, your Highness, I recognized him."
+
+A secret gladness stole into her heart, and to cover the flame which
+again rose to her cheeks, she bent and smoothed the dog's head. This
+gave Maurice an opportunity to look at her. What a beautiful being
+she was! He was actually sitting beside her, breathing the same
+air, listening to her voice. She exhaled a delicate perfume such as
+incorporates itself in persons of high degree and becomes a natural
+emanation, an incense vague and indescribable. He felt that he was
+gazing on the culmination of youth, beauty, and elegance... Yes,
+Fitzgerald was right. To beggar one's self for love; honor and life, and
+all to the winds if only love remained.
+
+Presently she straightened, and he centered his gaze on the back of the
+groom.
+
+"Monsieur, place your hat upon your head," smiling. "We have entered the
+Strasse, and I should not like to embarrass you with the attention of
+the citizens."
+
+He put on his hat. The impulse came to tell her all that he knew in
+regard to the kingdom's affairs; but his voice refused its offices.
+Besides, it was too late; the carriage was rolling into the Platz, and
+in a moment more it drew up before the terrace of the Continental Hotel.
+Maurice stepped out and bared his head.
+
+"This evening, Monsieur, at nine, I shall expect to see you at the
+archbishop's reception to the corps diplomatique." A hand was extended
+toward him. He did not know what to do about it. "I am offering you my
+hand to kiss, Monsieur Carewe; it is a privilege which I do not extend
+to all."
+
+As he touched it to his lips, he was sure that a thousand pairs of eyes
+were centered on him. The truth is, there were less than one hundred.
+It was the first time in many months that the Crown Princess had stopped
+before the Continental Hotel. To the guests it was an event; and some
+even went as far as to whisper that the handsome young man was Prince
+Frederick, incognito.
+
+"God save your Royal Highness," said Maurice, at loss for other words.
+He released her hand and stepped back.
+
+"Until this evening, then, Monsieur;" and the royal barouche rolled
+away.
+
+"Who loves me, loves my dog," said Maurice, as he sped to his room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. IN WHICH FORTUNE BECOMES CARELESS AND PRODIGAL
+
+On the night prior to the arrival of Maurice in Bleiberg, there happened
+various things of moment.
+
+At midnight the chancellor left the palace, after having witnessed from
+a window the meeting of the cuirassiers and the students, and sought
+his bed; but his sleep was burdened with troubled dreams. The clouds,
+lowering over his administration, thickened and darkened. How many times
+had he contemplated resigning his office, only to put aside the thought
+and toil on?
+
+Defeat in the end was to be expected, but still there was ever that star
+of hope, a possible turn in affairs which would carry him on to victory.
+Victory is all the sweeter when it seems impossible. Prince Frederick
+had disappeared, no one knew where, the peasant girl theory could
+no longer be harbored, and the wedding was but three days hence. The
+Englishman had not stepped above the horizon, and the telegrams to the
+four ends of the world returned unanswered. Thus, the chancellor stood
+alone; the two main props were gone from under. As he tossed on his
+pillows he pondered over the apparent reticence and indifference of the
+archbishop.
+
+All was still in the vicinity of the palaces. Sentinels paced
+noiselessly within the enclosures. In the royal bedchamber the king was
+resting quietly, and near by, on a lounge, the state physician dozed.
+The Captain of the household troop of cuirassiers nodded in the
+ante-room.
+
+Only the archbishop remained awake. He sat in his chamber and wrote. Now
+and then he would moisten his lips with watered wine. Sometimes he held
+the pen in midair, and peered into the shapeless shadows cast by the
+tapers, his broad forehead shining and deep furrows between his eyes.
+On, on he wrote. Perhaps the archbishop was composing additional
+pages to his memoirs, for occasionally his thin lips relaxed into an
+impenetrable smile.
+
+There was little quiet in the lower town, especially in the locality of
+the university. Old Stuler's was filled with smoke, students and tumult.
+Ill feeling ran high. There were many damaged heads, for the cuirassiers
+had not been niggard with their sabers.
+
+A student walked backward and forward on the stage, waving wildly with
+his hands to command attention. It was some time before he succeeded.
+
+"Fellow-students, brothers of freedom and comrades," he began. "All
+this must come to an end, and that at once. Our personal liberty
+is endangered. Our rights are being trodden under foot. Our ancient
+privileges are being laughed at. It must end." This declaration was
+greeted by shouts, sundry clattering of pewter lids and noisy rappings
+of earthenware on the tables. "Have we no rights as students? Must we
+give way to a handful of beggarly mercenaries? Must we submit to the
+outlawing of our customs and observances? What! We must not parade
+because the king does not like to be disturbed? And who are the
+cuirassiers?" Nobody answered. Nobody was expected to answer. "They are
+Frenchmen of hated memory--Swiss, Prussians, with Austrian officers. Are
+we or are we not an independent state? If independent, shall we stand by
+and see our personal liberties restricted? No! I say no!
+
+"Let us petition to oust these vampires, who not only rob us of our
+innocent amusements, but who are fed by our taxes. What right had
+Austria to dictate our politics? What right had she to disavow the blood
+and give us these Osians? O, my brothers, where are the days of Albrecht
+III of glorious memory? He acknowledged our rights. He was our lawful
+sovereign. He understood and loved us." This burst of sentiment was
+slightly exaggerative, if the history of that monarch is to be relied
+on; but the audience was mightily pleased with this recollection. It
+served to add to their distemper and wrath against the Osian puppet.
+"And where are our own soldiers, the soldiers of the kingdom? Moldering
+away in the barracks, unnoticed and forgotten. For the first time in the
+history of the country foreigners patrol the palaces. Our soldiers are
+nobodies. They hold no office at court save that of Marshal, and his
+voice is naught. Yet the brunt of the soldier's life falls on them. They
+watch at the frontiers, tireless and vigilant, while the mercenaries
+riot and play. Brothers, the time has come for us to act. The army is
+with us, and so are the citizens. Let ours be the glory of touching the
+match. We are brave and competent. We are drilled. We lack not courage.
+Let us secretly arm and watch for the opportunity to strike a blow for
+our rights. Confusion to the Osians, and may the duchess soon come into
+her own!"
+
+He jumped from the stage, and another took his place; the haranguing
+went on. The orators were serious and earnest; they believed themselves
+to be patriots, pure and simple, when in truth they were experiencing
+the same spirit of revolt as the boy whose mother had whipped him for
+making an unnecessary noise, or stealing into the buttery.
+
+While the excitement was at its height, a man, somewhat older than the
+majority of the students, entered the bar-room from the street, and
+lounged heavily against the railing. His clothes were soiled and
+wrinkled, blue circles shadowed his eyes, which were of dull jet, the
+corners of his mouth drooped dejectedly, and his oily face, covered with
+red stubble, gave evidences of a prolonged debauch.
+
+"Wine, Stuler, wine!" he called, laying down a coin, which gleamed dimly
+yellow in the opalescent light. "And none of your devilish vinegars and
+scums."
+
+Stuler pounced on the coin and rubbed it between his palms. "Gold,
+Johann, gold?"
+
+"Aye, gold; and the last of a pocketful, curse it! What's this noise
+about?" with a gesture, toward the hall.
+
+"The boys were in the Platz and had a brush with those damned
+cuirassiers. They'll play a harder game yet." Stuler always took sides
+with the students, on business principles; they constituted his purse.
+"Tokayer?"
+
+"No; champagne. Aye, these damned cuirassiers shall play a hard game ere
+the week is done, or my name is not Johann Kopf. They kicked me out of
+the palace grounds yesterday; me, me, me!" hammering the oak with his
+fist.
+
+"Who?"
+
+"Von Mitter, the English-bred dog! I'll kill him one of these days. Is
+it play to-night, or are they serious?" nodding again toward the hall.
+
+"Go in," said Stuler, "and look at some of those heads; a look will
+answer the purpose."
+
+Johann followed this advice. The picture he saw was one which agreed
+with the idea that had come into his mind. He returned to the bar-room.
+and drank his wine thirstily, refilled the glass and emptied it. Stuler
+shook his head. Johann was in a bad way when he gulped wine instead of
+sipping it. Yet it was always so after a carouse.
+
+"Where have you been keeping yourself the past week?" he asked. If the
+students were his purse, Johann was his budget of news.
+
+"You ask that?" surlily. "You knew I had money; you knew that I was off
+somewhere spending it--God knows where, I don't. Another bottle of wine.
+There's enough left from the gold to pay for it."
+
+Stuler complied. Johann's thirst seemed in no way assuaged; but soon the
+sullen expression, the aftermath of his spree, was replaced by one of
+reckless jollity. His eyes began to sparkle.
+
+"A great game, Stuler; they're playing a great game, and you and I will
+be in at the reaping. The town is quiet, you say? The troops have
+ceased murmuring, eh? A lull that comes before the storm. And when it
+breaks--and break it will!--gay times for you and me. There will be
+sacking. I have the list of those who lean toward the Osians. There will
+be loot, old war dog!"
+
+Stuler smiled indulgently; Johann was beginning to feel the wine.
+Perhaps he was to learn something. "Yes, 'twill be a glorious day."
+
+"A week hence, and the king goes forth a bankrupt."
+
+"If he lives," judiciously.
+
+"Dead or alive, it matters not which; he goes."
+
+"And the wedding? What is it I hear about Prince Frederick and the
+peasant girl?"
+
+Johann laughed. "There will be no wedding."
+
+"And the princess?"
+
+"A pretty morsel, a tidbit for the king that is to be."
+
+"The king that--eh, Johann, are you getting drunk so soon?" Stuler
+exclaimed. "I know of no king--"
+
+Johann reached over and caught the innkeeper's wrist. The grasp was no
+gentle one. "Listen, that was a slip of the tongue. Repeat it, and that
+for your life! Do you understand, my friend?"
+
+"Gott in--"
+
+"Do you understand?" fiercely.
+
+"Yes, yes!" Stuler wiped his face with his apron.
+
+"Good, if you understand. It was naught but a slip of the tongue,"
+nonchalantly. "In a little week, my friend, your till will have no
+vulgar silver in it; gold, yellow gold."
+
+"And the duchess?" with hesitance. The budget of news to-night was not
+of the usual kind.
+
+Johann did not answer, save by a shrug.
+
+The perturbation of the old man was so manifestly beyond control that he
+could not trust his legs. He dropped on the stool, giving his grizzled
+head a negative shake. "I would that you had made no slip of the tongue,
+Johann," he murmured. "Gott, what is going on? The princess was not to
+wed, to be sure, but the duchess passed--a king besides--"
+
+"Silence!" enjoined Johann. "Stuler, I am about to venture on a daring
+enterprise, which, if successful, will mean plenty of gold. Come with
+me into your private office, where we shall not be interrupted nor
+overheard." He vaulted the bar. Stuler looked undecided. "Come!"
+commanded Johann. With another shake of his head Stuler took down the
+tallow dip, unlocked the door, and bade Johann pass in. He caught up
+another bottle and glass and followed. Without a word he filled the
+glass and set it down before Johann, who raised it and drank, his beady
+eyes flashing over the rim of the glass and compelling the innkeeper to
+withdraw his gaze.
+
+"Well?" said Stuler, uneasily.
+
+"I need you." Johann finished his glass with moderate slowness. "Your
+storehouse on the lake is empty?"
+
+"Yes, but--"
+
+"I shall want it, two nights from this, in case Madame the duchess does
+not conquer the Englishman. I shall want two fellows who will ask no
+questions, but who will follow my instructions to the letter. It is an
+abduction."
+
+"A nasty business," was Stuler's comment. "You have women to thank for
+your present occupation, Johann."
+
+"Stuler, you are a fool. It is not a woman; it is a crown."
+
+"Eh?" Stuler's eyes bulged.
+
+"A crown. The duchess may remain a duchess. Who is master in Bleiberg
+to-day? At whose word the army moves or stands? At whose word the Osians
+fall or reign? On whom does the duchess rely? Who is king in deed,
+if not in fact? Who will find means to liquidate the kingdom's
+indebtedness, whoever may be the creditor? Pah! the princess may marry,
+but the groom will not be Prince Frederick. The man she will marry
+will be the husband of a queen, and he will be a king behind a woman's
+skirts. It is what the French call a coup d'etat. She will be glad to
+marry; there is no alternative. She will submit, if only that her father
+may die in peace."
+
+"And this king?" in a whisper.
+
+"You are old, Stuler; you remember many things of the past. Do you
+recollect a prince of a noble Austrian house by the name of Walmoden,
+once an aide to the emperor, who was cashiered from the army and exiled
+for corresponding with France?"
+
+Stuler's hand shook as he brushed his forehead. "Yes, I recollect.
+He fought against the Prussians in the Franco-Prussian war, then
+disappeared, to be heard of again as living in a South American
+republic. But what has he to do with all this? Ah, Johann, this is deep
+water."
+
+"For those who have not learned to swim. You will aid me? A thousand
+crowns--two hundred pieces of gold like that which has just passed from
+my pocket into yours. It is politics."
+
+"But the sacking of the town?"
+
+"A jest. If Madame the duchess conquers the Englishman, the king that is
+to be will pay her. Then, if she wages war Austria can say nothing for
+defending ourselves."
+
+"And Walmoden?" Stuler struck his forehead with his fist as if to pound
+it into a state of lucidity. "Where is he? It is a stone wall; I can see
+nothing."
+
+"Beauvais."
+
+"Beauvais!" Stuler half rose from his chair, but sank again.
+
+"Exactly. This play, for some reason unexplained, is the price of his
+reestablishment into the graces of the noble Hapsburgs. Between us,
+I think the prince is playing a game for himself. But who shall blame
+him?"
+
+"The devil! I thought Austria was very favorable to the Osian house."
+
+"Favorable or not, it is nothing to us."
+
+"Well, well, it's a thousand crowns," philosophically.
+
+"That's the sentiment," laughed Johann. "It is not high treason, it
+is not lese majeste; it is not a crime; it is a thousand crowns. Votre
+sante, as the damned French say!" swallowing what was left of the wine.
+"And then, it is purely patriotic in us," with a deceitful smile.
+
+"The storehouse is yours, and the men. Now tell me how 'tis to be
+played."
+
+"Where does her Royal Highness go each Thursday evening, accompanied by
+her eternal cuirassiers, von Mitter and Scharfenstein?"
+
+"Where but to see her old nurse Elizabeth? But two men will not be
+enough. Von Mitter and Scharfenstein--"
+
+"Will as usual remain at the carriage. But what's to prevent the men
+from gaining entrance by the rear?--carrying off her Highness that way,
+passing through the alley and making off, to be a mile away before the
+cuirassiers even dream of the attempt?"
+
+"After all, I'd rather the duchess."
+
+"We can not all be kings and queens." Johann got up and slapped Stuler
+familiarly on the shoulder. "Forget not the gold, the yellow gold;
+little heaps of it to finger, to count, and to spend."
+
+Stuler's eyes gleamed phosphorescently. There was the strain of the
+ancient marauder in his veins; gold easily gotten. He opened the door,
+and Johann passed out, swaying. The wine was taking hold of him. He
+turned into the hall, while Stuler busied himself with the spigots.
+Some one discovered the spy, and called him by name; it was caught up by
+others, and there were numerous calls for a speech.
+
+As a socialist Johann was well known about the lower town. Besides, five
+years gone, he himself had been a student and a brother of freedom. He
+had fought a dozen successful duels, and finally had been expelled from
+the university for beating a professor who had objected to his conduct
+in the presence of ladies. Other ill reports added to his popularity.
+To be popular in this whimsical world of ours, one has either to be very
+good or very bad. Johann was not unwilling to speak. Stuler had given
+him the cue; the cuirassiers. His advice was secretly to arm and hold
+in readiness. As this was the substance of the other speeches, Johann
+received his meed of applause.
+
+"And let us not forget the bulldog; let us kill him, too," cried one
+of the auditors; "the prodigal bulldog, who has lived on our fatted
+calves."
+
+This was unanimously adopted. The bulldog was not understood; and he
+smacked of the English. Then, too, the bulldog roamed too freely in the
+royal enclosures; and, until late years, trespassers fared badly. The
+students considered that their privileges extended everywhere; the dog,
+not being conversant with these privileges, took that side which in law
+is called the benefit of a doubt.
+
+After his speech Johann retired to the bar-room. What he desired most of
+all was a replenished purse. Popular he was; but the students knew his
+failings, among which stood prominently that of a forgetful borrower.
+They would buy him drinks, clothes and food, if need be, but they would
+not lend him a stiver. And he could not borrow from Stuler, whose law
+was only to trust. Johann gambled, and wine always brought back the
+mad fever for play. The night before he had lost rather heavily, and he
+wanted to recover his losses. Rouge-et-noir had pinched him; he would be
+revenged on the roulette. All day long combinations and numbers danced
+before his eyes. He had devised several plans by which to raise money,
+but these had fallen through. Suddenly he smiled, and beckoned to
+Stuler.
+
+"Stuler, how much will you advance me," he asked, "on a shotgun worth
+one hundred crowns?"
+
+"A shotgun worth one hundred crowns? Ten."
+
+Johann made a negative gesture. "Fifty or none. You can sell it
+for seventy-five in the morning. So could I, only I want the money
+to-night."
+
+"If you want wine--" began Stuler.
+
+"I want money."
+
+Stuler scratched his nose. "Bring the gun to me. If it is worth what you
+say, I'll see what I can do."
+
+"In an hour;" and Johann went out. A cold thin rain was falling, and a
+dash of it in the face had a cooling effect. Somehow, the exhilaration
+of the wine was gone, and his mood took a sullen turn. Money! he was
+ever in need of money. He cursed his ill luck. He cursed the cause
+of it--drink. But for drink he would not have been plain Johann Kopf,
+brawler, outcast, spy, disowned by his family and all save those who
+could use him. He remained standing in the doorway, brooding.
+
+At last he drew his collar about his throat and struck off, a black
+shadow in a bank of gray. When he reached that part of the street
+opposite the Grand Hotel, he stopped and sought shelter under an awning.
+The night patrol came clattering down the street. It passed quickly, and
+soon all was still again. Johann stepped out and peered up and down. The
+street was deserted. All the hotel windows were in gloom, save a feeble
+light which beamed from the office windows.
+
+Would it be robbery? He had not yet stooped to that. But he could hear
+the ivory ball clatter as it fell into the lucky numbers. He had a
+premonition that he would win if he stuck to a single combination. He
+would redeem the gun, replace it, and no one would be any the wiser.
+If his numbers failed him..... No matter. He determined to cross the
+Rubicon. He traversed the street and disappeared into the cavernous
+alley, shortly to loom up in the deserted courtyard of the hotel. He
+counted the windows on the first floor and stopped at the fourth. That
+was the window he must enter. Noiselessly he crept along the walls,
+stopping now and then to listen. There was no sound except the
+monotonous dripping of the rain, which was growing thinner and colder.
+
+Presently he came across the ladder he was seeking. He raised it to the
+required height, and once more placed his hand to his ear. Silence. He
+mounted the rounds to the window, which he found unfastened. In another
+moment he was in the room. Not an object could he see, so deep was the
+darkness. If he moved without light he was likely to stumble, and heydey
+to his fifty crowns, not to say his liberty for many days to come. He
+carefully drew the blinds and struck a match. The first object which
+met his gaze was a fallen candle. This he lit and when the glare of the
+flame softened, all the corners of the room stood out. Nowhere was there
+any sign of a gun. He gave vent to a half-muttered curse. Some one had
+pilfered the gun, or the proprietor was keeping it until the Englishman
+returned from the duchy. But he remembered that there were two guns, one
+of which the Englishman did not use in the hunting expeditions.
+
+So he began a thorough search. It meant fifty crowns, green baize and
+the whims of fortune. Cautiously he moved between the fallen chairs. He
+looked behind the bed, under the dresser, but without success. His hand
+closed savagely around the candle, and he swore inaudibly. He threw back
+the bed coverings, not that he expected to find anything, but because
+he could vent his rage on these silent, noiseless things. When he lifted
+the mattress it was then he took a deep breath and smiled. What he saw
+was a gun case. He drew it from under. It was heavy; his fifty crowns
+were inside. Next he picked up a candlestick and stuffed the candle into
+it, and laid a quilt against the threshold of the door so that no light
+would pierce the corridor.
+
+"This is the gun the Englishman did not use in the hunting expeditions,"
+he thought. "If it is out of repair, as he said it was, my fifty crowns
+are not so many pfennige. The devil! it must be a valuable piece of
+gunsmithing, to hide it under the bedclothes. Let me see if my crowns
+are for the picking."
+
+He investigated forthwith. The hammers and the triggers worked smoothly.
+He unlocked the breech and held the nozzles toward the candle light--and
+again cursed. The barrels were clogged up. Notwithstanding, he plucked
+forth the cleaning-rod and forced it into one of the tubes. There was
+a slight resistance, and something fluttered to the floor and rolled
+about. The second tube was treated likewise, with the same result.
+Johann laughed silently. The fifty crowns were tangible; he could hear
+them jingling in his pocket, and a pretty music they made. He returned
+the leather case to its original place and devoted his attention to the
+cylinder-shaped papers on the floor.
+
+For a quarter of an hour Johann remained seated on the floor, in the
+wavering candle light, forgetful of all save the delicate tracings of
+steel engraving, the red and green inks, the great golden seal, the
+signatures, the immensity of the ciphers which trailed halfway across
+each crackling parchment. He counted sixteen of them in all. Four
+millions of crowns.... He was rich, rich beyond all his wildest dreams.
+
+He rose, and restored the gun to its case. Fifty crowns? No, no! A
+hundred thousand, not a crown less; a hundred thousand! all thoughts of
+the green baize and the rattle of the roulette ball passed away. There
+was no need to seek fortune; she had come to him of her own free will.
+Wine, Gertrude of the opera, Paris and a life of ease; all these were
+his. A hundred thousand crowns, a hundred thousand florins, two hundred
+thousand francs, two hundred thousand marks! He computed in all monetary
+denominations; in all countries it was wealth.
+
+Something rose and swelled in his throat, and he choked hysterically. A
+voice whispered "No, not a hundred thousand; four millions!" But reason,
+though it tottered, regained its balance, and he saw the utter futility
+of attempting to dispose of the orders on the government independently.
+His hands trembled; he could scarcely hold this vast treasure. Twice,
+in his haste to pocket the certificates, they slipped from his grasp
+and scattered. How those six syllables frolicked in his mind! A hundred
+thousand crowns!
+
+He extinguished the candle and laid it on the floor, put the quilt
+on the bed, then climbed through the window, which he closed without
+mishap. He descended the ladder. As he reached the bottom round his
+heart gave a great leap. From the alley came the sound of approaching
+steps. Nearer and nearer they came; a shadow entered the courtyard and
+made straight for the door, which was but a few feet from the reclining
+ladder. The kitchen door opened and the burst of light revealed a
+belated serving maid. A moment passed, and all became dark again. But
+Johann felt a strange weakness in his knees, and a peculiar thrill at
+the roots of his hair. He dared not move for three or four minutes. But
+he waited in vain for other steps. He cursed the serving maid for the
+fright, disposed of the ladder, and sought the street. He directed his
+steps toward Stuler's.
+
+"The pig of an Englishman was deeper than I thought. In the gun barrels,
+the gun barrels! If I had not wanted to play they would have been there
+yet! A hundred thousand crowns!"
+
+It had ceased to rain, and a frost was congealing the moisture under
+foot. On the way back to Stuler's Johann slipped and fell several times;
+but he was impervious to pain, bruises were nothing. He was rich! He
+laughed; and from time to time thrust his hand into his vest to convince
+himself that he was not dreaming. To whom should he sell? To the Osians?
+To the duchess? To the king that was to be? Who would pay quickest the
+hundred thousand crowns? He knew. Aye, two hundred thousand would not be
+too much. The Englishman would send for the certificates, but his agent
+would not find them. The abduction? He would carry it through as he
+had promised. It was five thousand crowns in addition to his hundred
+thousand. He was rich! He shook his hand toward the inky sky, toward
+the palace, toward all that signified the past..... A hundred thousand
+crowns!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. WHAT HAPPENED AT THE ARCHBISHOP'S PALACE AND AFTER
+
+Maurice, as he labored before his mirror, wondered why in the world it
+took him so long to dress. An hour had passed since he began his evening
+toilet; yet here he was, still tinkering, so to speak, over the last
+of a dozen cravats. The eleven others lay strewn about, hopelessly
+crumpled; mute witnesses of angry fingers and impassioned mutterings.
+Usually he could slip into his evening clothes in less than thirty
+minutes. Something was wrong. But perhaps this occasion was not usual.
+
+First, the hems of his trousers were insurgent; they persisted in
+hitching on the tops of his button shoes. Laces were substituted. Then
+came a desultory period, during which gold buttons were exchanged for
+pearl and pearl for gold, and two-button shirts for three-button. For
+Maurice was something of a dandy. He could not imagine what was the
+matter with his neck, all the collars seemed so small. For once his
+mishaps did not appeal to his humor. The ascent from his shoes to his
+collar was as tortuous as that of the alpine Jungfrau.
+
+Ah, Madam, you may smile as much as you please, but it is a terrible
+thing for a man to dress and at the same time think kindly of his
+fellow-beings. You set aside three hours for your toilet, and devote two
+hours to the little curl which droops over the tip of your dainty ear;
+but with a man who has no curl, who knows nothing of the practice of
+smiles and side glances, the studied carelessness of a pose, it is a
+dismal, serious business up to the last moment.
+
+With a final glance into the mirror, and convinced that if he touched
+himself it would be only to disarrange the perfection which he had
+striven so hard to attain, Maurice went down stairs. He had still an
+hour to while away before presenting himself at the archbishop's palace.
+So he roamed about the verandas, twirled his cane, and smoked like a
+captain who expects to see his men in active engagement the very next
+moment. This, together with the bad hour in his room, was an indication
+that his nerves were finely strung.
+
+He was nervous, not because he was to see strange faces, not because his
+interest in the kingdom's affairs was both comic and tragic, nor because
+he was to present himself at the archbishop's in a peculiar capacity,
+that of a prisoner on parole. No, it was due to none of these. His
+pulse did not stir at the prospect of meeting the true king. Diplomatic
+functions were every-day events with him. He had passed several years of
+his life in the vicinity of emperors, kings, viceroys, and presidents,
+and their greatness had long ago ceased to interest or even to amuse
+him. He was conscious only of an agitation which had already passed
+through the process of analysis. He loved, he loved the impossible
+and the unattainable, and it was the exhilaration of this thought that
+agitated him. He never would be the same again--he would be better.
+Neither did he regret this love.
+
+Even now he could see himself back in his rooms in Vienna, smoking
+before the fire, and building castles that tumbled down. It was worth
+while, if only to have something to dream about. He did not regret the
+love, he regretted its futility. How could he serve her? What could he
+do against all these unseen forces which were crumbling her father's
+throne? So she remembered what he had said to her in the archbishop's
+garden? He looked at his watch. It was nine.
+
+"Let us be off," he said. He started for the Platz. "How uncertain life
+is. It seems that I did not come to Bleiberg carelessly in the way of
+amusement, but to work out a part of my destiny." He arrested his steps
+at the fountain and listened to the low, musical plash of the water,
+each drop of which fell with the light of a dazzling jewel. The cold
+stars shone from above. They were not farther away than she. A princess,
+a lonely and forlorn princess, hemmed in by the fabric of royal laws; a
+princess yet possessing less liberty than the meanest of her peasants.
+Nothing belonged to her, not even her heart, which was merchandise, a
+commodity of exchange, turned over to the highest bidder. "Royalty," he
+mused, "is a political slave-dealer; the slaves are those who wear the
+crowns."
+
+Once inside the palace, he became a man of the world, polished,
+nonchalant, handsome, and mildly curious. Immediately after the usher
+announced his name, he crossed the chamber and presented his respects to
+the prelate, who, he reasoned not unwisely, expected him. The friendly
+greeting of the archbishop confirmed this reasoning.
+
+"I am delighted to see you, Monsieur," he said, showing his remarkably
+well preserved teeth in the smile that followed his words. "A service
+to her Royal Highness is a service to me. Amuse yourself; you will find
+some fine paintings in the west gallery."
+
+"I trust her Royal Highness is none the worse for the fright," Maurice
+replied. He also remarked (mentally) that he did not see her Highness
+anywhere. Several introductions followed, and he found himself chatting
+with the British minister.
+
+"Carewe?" the Englishman repeated thoughtfully. "Are you not Maurice
+Carewe, of the American Legation in Vienna?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"May I ask you a few questions?"
+
+"A thousand."
+
+"A fellow-countryman of mine has mysteriously disappeared. He left
+Vienna for Bleiberg, saying that if nothing was heard of him within a
+week's time, to make inquiries about him. This request was left with
+the British ambassador, who has just written me, adding that a personal
+friend of the gentleman in question was in Bleiberg, and that this
+friend was Maurice Carewe, attache to the American Legation. Are you
+acquainted with Lord Fitzgerald, son of my late predecessor?"
+
+"I am indeed. I saw him in Vienna," said Maurice; "but he said nothing
+to me about coming here," which was true enough. "Is there any cause for
+apprehension?"
+
+"Only his request to be looked up within a certain time. The truth is,
+he was to have come here on a peculiar errand," with lowered voice. "Did
+you ever hear of what is called 'Fitzgerald's folly?'"
+
+"Yes; few haven't heard of it." Maurice could never understand why he
+resisted the impulse to tell the whole affair. A dozen words to the man
+at his side, and the catastrophes, even embryonic, would be averted.
+"You must tell me who most of these people are," he said, in order to
+get around a disagreeable subject. "I am a total stranger."
+
+"With pleasure. That tall, angular old man, in the long, gray frock,
+with decorations, is Marshal Kampf. You must meet him; he is the
+wittiest man in Bleiberg. The gentleman with the red beard is Mollendorf
+of the police. And beside him--yes, the little man with glasses and a
+loose cravat--is Count von Wallenstein, the minister of finance. That
+is the chancellor talking to the archbishop. Ah, Mr. Carewe, these
+receptions are fine comedies. The Marshal, the count and Mollendorf
+represent what is called the Auersperg faction under the rose. It is a
+continual battle of eyes and tongues. One smiles at his enemy, knows him
+to be an enemy, yet dares not touch him.
+
+"Confidentially, this play has never had the like. To convict his
+enemies of treason has been for ten years the labor of the chancellor;
+yet, though he knows them to be in correspondence with the duchess,
+he can find nothing on the strength of which to accuse openly. It is a
+conspiracy which has no papers. One can not take out a man's brains and
+say, `Here is proof!' They talk, they walk on thin ice; but so fine
+is their craft that no incautious word ever falls, nor does any one go
+through the ice.
+
+"I have watched the play for ten years. I should not speak to you about
+it, only it is one of those things known to all here. Those gentlemen
+talking to the chancellor's wife are the ministers from Austria,
+Prussia, France, and Servia. You will not find it as lively here as it
+is in Vienna. We meet merely to watch each other," with a short laugh.
+"Good. The Marshal is approaching."
+
+They waited.
+
+"Marshal," said the minister, "this is Monsieur Carewe, who rescued her
+Highness's dog from the students."
+
+"Ah!" replied the Marshal, grimly. "Do not expect me to thank you,
+Monsieur; only day before yesterday the dog snapped at my legs. I am
+living out of pure spite, to see that dog die before I do. Peace to his
+ashes--the sooner the better."
+
+The minister turned to Maurice and laughed.
+
+"Eh!" said the Marshal.
+
+"I prophesied that you would speak disparagingly of the dog."
+
+"What a reputation!" cried the old soldier. "I dare say that you have
+been telling Monsieur Carewe that I am a wit. Monsieur, never attempt
+to be witty; they will put you down for a wit, and laugh at anything you
+say, even when you put yourself out to speak the truth. If I possess any
+wit it is like young grapes--sour. You are connected in Vienna?"
+
+"With the American Legation."
+
+"Happy is the country," said the Marshal, "which is so far away that
+Europe can find no excuse to meddle with it."
+
+"And even then Europe would not dare," Maurice replied, with
+impertinence aforethought.
+
+"That is not a diplomatic speech."
+
+"It is true."
+
+"I like your frankness."
+
+"Let that go toward making amends for saving the dog."
+
+"Are all American diplomats so frank?" inquired the Marshal, with an air
+of feigned wonder.
+
+"Indeed, no," answered Maurice. "Just at present I am not in a
+diplomatic capacity; I need not look askance at truth. And there is no
+reason why we should not always be truthful."
+
+"You are wrong. It's truth's infrequency which makes her so charming and
+refreshing. However, I thank you for your services to her Highness; your
+services to her dog I shall try to forget." And with this the Marshal
+moved away, shaking his head as if he had inadvertently stumbled on an
+intricate problem.
+
+Not long after, Maurice was left to his own devices. He viewed the
+scene, silent and curious. Conversation was carried on in low tones,
+and laughter was infrequent and subdued. The women dressed without
+ostentation. There were no fair arms and necks. Indeed, these belong
+wholly to youth, and youth was not a factor at the archbishop's
+receptions. Most of the men were old and bald, and only the wives of the
+French and British ministers were pretty or young. How different from
+Vienna, where youth and beauty abound! There were no music, no long
+tables of refreshments, no sparkling wines, no smoking-room, good
+stories and better fellowship. There was an absence of the flash of
+jewels and color which make court life attractive.
+
+There seemed to be hanging in the air some invisible power, the forecast
+of a tragedy, the beginning of an unknown end. And yet the prelate
+smiled on enemies and friends alike. As Maurice observed that smile he
+grew perplexed. It was a smile such as he had seen on the faces of men
+who, about to die, felt the grim satisfaction of having an enemy for
+company. The king lay on his death bed, in all probabilities the throne
+tottered; yet the archbishop smiled.
+
+The princess did not know that her father was dying; this was a secret
+which had not yet been divulged to her. And this was the only society
+she knew. Small wonder that she was sad and lonely. To be young, and to
+find one's self surrounded by the relics of youth; what an existence!
+She had never known the beauty of a glittering ballroom, felt the music
+of a waltz mingle with the quick throbs of the heart, the pleasure
+of bestowing pleasure. She had never read the mute yet intelligent
+admiration in a young man's eyes. And what young woman does not yearn
+for the honest adoration of an honest man? Poor, lonely princess indeed.
+For, loving the world as he himself did, Maurice understood what was
+slipping past her. Every moment the roots of love were sinking deeper
+into his heart and twining firmly about, as a vine to a trellis.
+
+Is there a mental telegraphy, an indefinable substance which is affected
+by the close proximity of a presence, which, while we do not see,
+we feel? Perhaps; at any rate, Maurice suddenly became aware of that
+peculiar yet now familiar agitation of his nerves. Instinctively he
+turned his head. In the doorway which separated the chamber from the
+conservatory stood her Royal Highness. She was dressed entirely in
+black, which accentuated the whiteness--the Carrara marble whiteness--of
+her exquisite skin. In the dark, shining coils swept back from her brow
+lay the subtle snare of a red rose. There was no other color except on
+the full lips. She saw Maurice, but she was so far away that the faint
+reflection of the rose on her cheeks was gone before he reached her
+side.
+
+"I was afraid," she said, lowering her eyes as she uttered the fib,
+"that you would not come after all."
+
+"It would have been impossible for me to stay away," he replied, his
+eyes ardent. The princess looked away. "And may I ask after the health
+of the dog?"
+
+"Thanks to you, Monsieur; he is getting along finely. Poor dog; he
+will always limp. What is it that makes men inflict injuries on dumb
+creatures?"
+
+"It is the beast that is envious of the brute."
+
+"And your hand?" with a glance sympathetic and inquiring.
+
+"My hand?"
+
+"Yes; did you not injure it?"
+
+"O!" He laughed and held out two gloved hands for her inspection. "That
+was only a scratch. In fact, I do not remember which hand it was."
+
+"You are very modest. I should have made much of it."
+
+He could not translate this; so he said: "There was nothing injured but
+my hat. I seem unfortunate in that direction."
+
+She smiled, recalling the incident in the archbishop's garden.
+
+"I shall keep the hat, however," he said, "as a souvenir."
+
+"Souvenirs, Monsieur," she replied carelessly, "and old age are
+synonymous. You and I ought not to have any souvenirs. Have you seen
+the picture gallery? No? Then I shall have the pleasure of showing it
+to you. Monseigneur is very proud of his gallery. He has a Leonardo, a
+Botticelli, a Murillo, and a Rembrandt. And they really show better in
+artificial light, which softens the effect of time."
+
+Half an hour was passed in the gallery. It was very pleasant to
+listen to her voice as she described this and that painting, and the
+archbishop's adventures in securing them. It did not seem possible to
+him that she was a princess, perhaps destined to become a queen, so free
+was she from the attributes of royalty, so natural and ingenuous. He
+caught each movement of her delicate head, each gesture of her hand, the
+countless inflections of her voice, the lights which burned or died away
+in the dark wine of her eyes.
+
+Poor devil! he mused, himself in mind; poor fool! He forgot the world,
+he forgot that he was a prisoner on parole, he forgot the strife between
+the kingdom and the duchy, he forgot everything but the wild impossible
+love which filled his senses. He forgot even Prince Frederick of
+Carnavia.
+
+In truth, the world was "a sorry scheme of things." It was grotesque
+with inequalities. He had no right to love her; it was wrong to give
+in to the impulses of the heart, the natural, human impulses. A man can
+beat down the stone walls of a fort, scale the impregnable heights of
+a citadel, master the earth and the seas, but he can not surmount
+the invisible barriers which he himself erected in the past ages--the
+quality of birth. Ah! if only she had been a peasant, unlettered and
+unknown, and free to be won! The tasks of Hercules were then but play to
+him!
+
+Next she led him through the aisles of potted plants in the
+conservatory. She was very learned. She explained the origin of each
+flower, its native soil, the time and manner of its transportation.
+Perhaps she was surprised at his lack of botanical knowledge, he asked
+so many questions. But it was not the flowers, it was her voice, which
+urged him to these interrogations.
+
+They were on the point of re-entering the reception chamber, when the
+jingle of a spur on the mosaic floor caused them to turn. Maurice could
+not control the start; he had forgotten all about Beauvais. The soldier
+wore the regulation full dress of the cuirassiers, white trousers,
+tucked into patent leather half-boots, a gray jacket with gold lace and
+decorations, red saber straps and a gray pelisse hanging from the left
+shoulder. A splendid soldier, Maurice grudgingly admitted. What would
+the Colonel say? The situation was humorous rather than otherwise, and
+Maurice smiled.
+
+"I was looking for your Highness," said Beauvais, as he came up, "to
+pay my respects. I am leaving." His glance at Maurice was one of polite
+curiosity.
+
+"Colonel Beauvais," said the princess, coldly, "Monsieur Carewe, of the
+American Legation in Vienna."
+
+She was not looking at the Colonel, but Maurice was, and the Colonel's
+total lack of surprise astonished him. The gaze of the two men plunged
+into each other's eyes like flashes of lightning, but that was all.
+
+"I am charmed," said the Colonel, a half-ironical smile under his
+mustache. "Your name is not unfamiliar to me."
+
+"No?" said Maurice, with studied politeness.
+
+"No. It is connected with an exploit. Was it not you who faced the
+students this afternoon and rescued her Highness's dog?"
+
+"Ah!" said Maurice, in a tone which implied that exploits were every
+day events with him; "it was but a simple thing to do. The students were
+like so many sheep."
+
+The princess elevated her brows; she felt an undercurrent of something
+which she did not understand. Indeed, she did not like the manner in
+which the two men eyed each other. Her glance passed from the stalwart
+soldier to the slim, athletic form of the civilian.
+
+Conversation drifted aimlessly. Maurice had the malice to cast the brunt
+of it on the Colonel's shoulders. The princess, like a rose coming in
+contact with a chill air, drew within herself. She was cold, brief, and
+serenely indifferent. It was evident to Maurice that she had resumed her
+royal mantle, and that she had shown him unusual consideration.
+
+Presently she raised her hand to her head, as sometimes one will do
+unconsciously, and the rose slipped from her hair and dropped to the
+floor. Both men stooped. Maurice was quickest. With a bow he offered to
+return it.
+
+"You may keep it, Monsieur;" and she laughed.
+
+They joined her. Maurice knew why the Colonel laughed, and the Colonel
+knew why Maurice laughed; but neither could account for the laughter of
+the princess. That was her secret.
+
+All things come to an end, even diplomatic receptions. Soon the guests
+began to leave.
+
+Said the princess to Maurice: "Your invitation is a standing one,
+Monsieur. To our friends there are no formalities. Good night; ah, yes,
+the English fashion," extending her hand, which Maurice barely touched.
+"Good night, Monsieur," to Beauvais, with one of those nods which wither
+as effectually as frost.
+
+The Colonel bent gracefully.
+
+"Decidedly the Colonel is not in high favor tonight," thought Maurice;
+"a fact which is eminently satisfactory to me. Ah; he looks as if he had
+something to say to me. Let us wait."
+
+"Monsieur, have you any other engagement this evening?" asked Beauvais,
+swinging his pelisse over both shoulders. "If not, my rooms are quite
+handy. I have capital cigars and cognacs. Will you do me the honor? I
+should like to have you regale me with some Vienna gossip; it is so long
+since I was there."
+
+"Thanks," said Maurice. "I shall be happy to smoke your cigars and drink
+your cognacs." He was in the mood for any adventure, comic or serious.
+He had an idea what the Colonel wanted to say to him, and he was not
+unwilling to listen. Besides, he had no fear; he now wore an amulet
+close to his heart.
+
+"Come, then," said Beauvais, gaily; and the two made off. "It is a
+wonderful game of chess, this world of ours."
+
+"Yes," said Maurice, "we do keep moving."
+
+"And every now and then one or the other of us steps out into the dark."
+
+"So we do." Maurice glanced from the corner of his eye and calculated
+his chances in a physical contest with the Colonel. The soldier was
+taller and broader, but it was possible for him to make good this
+deficiency with quickness. But, above all, where and under what
+circumstances had he met this man before?
+
+"Here we are!" cried the Colonel, presently.
+
+He led Maurice into one of the handsome dwellings which faced the palace
+confines from the east. They passed up the stairs into a large room,
+Oriental in its appointments, and evidently the living room. The walls
+were hung with the paraphernalia of a soldier, together with portraits
+of opera singers, horses and celebrities of all classes. On the mantel
+Maurice saw, among other things, the glint of a revolver barrel. He
+thought nothing of it then. It occurred to him as singular, however,
+that the room was free from central obstruction. Had the Colonel
+expected to meet him at the archbishop's and anticipated his acceptance
+of a possible invitation?
+
+Two chairs stood on either side of the grate. Between them was an
+octagon on which were cigars, glasses and two cognac bottles. The
+Colonel's valet came in and lit the tapers in the chandelier and woke
+up the fire.... Maurice was convinced that the Colonel had arranged the
+room thus for his especial benefit, and he regretted his eagerness for
+adventure.
+
+"Francois," said Beauvais, throwing his shako and pelisse on the lounge
+and motioning to Maurice to do likewise, "let no one disturb us."
+
+The valet bowed and noiselessly retired. The two men sat down without
+speaking. Beauvais passed the cigars. Maurice selected one, lit it, and
+blew rings at the Chinese mandarin which leered down at him from the
+mantel.
+
+Several minutes marched into the past.
+
+"Maurice Carewe," said the Colonel, as one who mused.
+
+"It is very droll," said Maurice.
+
+"I can not say that it strikes me as droll, though I am not deficient in
+the sense of humor."
+
+"'Twould be a pity if you were; you would miss so much. Through humor
+philosophy reaches its culmination; humor is the foundation upon which
+the palace of reason erects itself. The two are inseparable."
+
+"How came you to be mixed up in this affair, which is no concern of
+yours?"
+
+"That question is respectfully referred to Madame the duchess. I was
+thrown into it, head foremost, bound hand and foot. It was a clever
+stroke, though eventually it will embarrass her."
+
+"You may give me the certificates," said Beauvais.
+
+Maurice contemplated him serenely. "Impossible," with a fillip at the
+end of his cigar.
+
+"You refuse?" coldly.
+
+"I do not refuse. Simply, I haven't got them."
+
+"What!" The Colonel half sprang from his chair.
+
+His astonishment was genuine; Maurice saw that it was, and he reflected.
+Madame nor Fitzgerald had been dishonest with him.
+
+"No. Some one has forestalled me."
+
+"Are you lying to me?" menacingly.
+
+"And if I were?" coolly.
+
+Beauvais measured his antagonist, his eyes hard and contemptuous.
+
+"I repeat," said Maurice, "the situation is exceedingly droll. I am not
+afraid of you, not a bit. I am not a man to be intimidated. You might
+have inferred as much by my willingness to accompany you here. I am
+alone with you."
+
+"It is true that you are alone with me," in a voice, which, though it
+did not alarm Maurice, caused him to rest less comfortably in his chair.
+"In the first place, you know too much."
+
+"The knowledge was not of my own seeking. You will agree with me in
+that." He took a swallow of the cognac. "However, since I am in the
+affair--"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"I'll see it to its end."
+
+"Perhaps. We shall not cross purposes. When men plot as I do, they stop
+at nothing, not even at that infinitesimal minutiae called the spark of
+life. It becomes a matter of self-preservation. I am in too deep water;
+I must keep on. I can not now turn back; the first shore is too far
+away."
+
+"Even villainy has its inconveniences," Maurice observed.
+
+"What do you call villainy?"
+
+"An act in which a man accepts pay from one to ruin him for another.
+That is villainy, without a single saving grace, for you are a native
+neither of the kingdom nor the duchy."
+
+"That is plain language. You do not take into consideration the
+villain's motives. There may be certain ends necessary as his life's
+blood, which may be gained only by villainy, which, after all, is a hard
+name for political conspiracy."
+
+"Oh, I do not suppose you are worse than the majority. But it appeals
+to me as rather a small, unmanly game when your victims are a man who is
+dying and a girl who knows nothing of the world nor its treachery."
+
+An almost imperceptible smile passed over Beauvais's countenance. "So
+her Highness has captured your sympathies?" with a shade of banter.
+
+"I admit that; she would capture the sympathies of any man who has a
+good pair of eyes in his head. But you do not seem to be in favor just
+at present," banter for banter.
+
+The Colonel studied the end of his cigar. "What is to be your stand in
+this affair?"
+
+"Neutral as possible, for the simple reason that I have passed my word
+to Madame; compulsorily, it is true; I shall abide by it. That is not
+to say that my sympathies are not wholly with the Osians. Madame is a
+brilliant woman, resourceful, initiative; she has as many sides as a cut
+diamond; moreover, her cause is just. But I do not like the way she has
+gone about the recovery of her throne. She has broken, or will break, a
+fine honest heart; she tried to break another, but, not being above
+the pantry maid, the subject of her attention failed to appreciate the
+consideration."
+
+Beauvais laughed at this. "You are very good company. Let me advise you
+to remain neutral. I wish you no harm. But if you change your mind and
+stand in my path--"
+
+"Well, and if I stood in your path?"
+
+"Pouf! you would vanish. O, I should not stoop to murder; that is a
+vulgar word and practice. I should place a sword in your hand and give
+you the preference of a gentleman's death. I see nothing to prevent me
+from carrying out that this very night," with a nod toward the rapiers
+which hung from the opposite wall.
+
+"You might be surprised at the result," said Maurice, stretching his
+legs. "But at present I have no desire to quarrel with you, or to put
+your skill to a test. Once Madame gives me back my word, why, I do not
+say." He dipped his hand toward the ash-pan. "Human nature is full of
+freaks. A man will commit all sorts of crimes, yet stand by his word.
+Not that I have committed any crimes against the ten commandments."
+
+And so they fenced.
+
+"You picked up a rose to-night," said the Colonel.
+
+"So I did." Maurice blew a puff of smoke into the chimneyplace and
+watched it sail upward and vanish. "Moreover, I propose to keep it. Have
+you any objections?"
+
+"Only this: her Highness intended the rose for me."
+
+"No, no, my friend," easily. "She would not have laughed had you picked
+it up."
+
+"That is to say I lie?"
+
+"It is," laconically.
+
+There was no eluding a statement so bald as this. Beauvais sat upright.
+"To call me a liar is a privilege which I extend to no man."
+
+"I did not call you a liar," undisturbed. "You wrote it down yourself,
+and I simply agreed to it. A duel? Well, I shall not fight you. Dueling
+is obsolete, and it never demonstrated the right or wrong of a cause.
+Since my part in this affair is one of neutrality, and since to gain
+that knowledge was the object of your invitation, I will take my leave
+of you."
+
+He rose and looked at the porcelain clock. As he did so his gaze rested
+on a small photograph standing at the side of it. He scanned it eagerly.
+It was a face of dark Castilian beauty. He turned and looked at Beauvais
+long and earnestly. There was an answering gaze, an immobility of
+countenance. Maurice experienced a slight shock. The haze over his
+memory was dispersed. The whole scene, in which this man loomed in the
+foreground, came back vividly.
+
+"Your stare, Monsieur, is annoying."
+
+"I shouldn't wonder," replied Maurice, leaning against the mantel.
+
+"Do me the honor to explain it."
+
+Maurice, never dreaming of the trap, fell head foremost into it. "I have
+traveled a good deal," he began. "I have been--even to South America."
+
+"Ah!" This ejaculation expressed nothing. In fact, Beavais was smiling.
+There was a sinister something behind that smile, but Maurice was
+unobservant.
+
+He went on. "Yes, to South America. I was there in a diplomatic
+capacity, during one of the many revolutions. This country was the
+paradise of adventurers, the riff-raff of continental social outcasts.
+I distinctly remember the leader of this revolution. Up to the very last
+day, Captain Urquijo was the confidential friend of the president whom
+he was about to ruin. Through the president's beautiful daughter Urquijo
+picked up his threads and laid his powder train. The woman loved him as
+women sometimes love rascals. The president was to be assassinated
+and his rival installed. Captain Urquijo was to be made General of the
+armies.
+
+"One fine day the troops lined both sides of the plaza, the square
+also about which lay the government buildings. It was the event of some
+celebration; I believe the throwing off of the yoke of Spain. The
+city flocked into the plaza. Strangely enough, those who were
+disaffected--the soldiers under Urquijo--faced the loyal troops. By
+a preconceived plan, the artillery was under the command of Urquijo.
+Suddenly this Captain's murderous and traitorous guns swept the plaza,
+mangling women and children. There was a flaw, however, in the stroke.
+Urquijo fled, a reward posted for his head--mind you, his head; they did
+not want him alive.
+
+"The daughter expiates her foolish love in a convent. Her disgraces
+proved too much for her father, who blew out his brains. The successor
+secured extradition papers in all the leading capitals of the world. The
+story was the sensation of the day; the newspapers made much of it. All
+governments offered to assist the republic in hounding down this rascal.
+To whatever country he belonged, that country promised to disown him."
+
+Maurice took the photograph and cast it into Beauvais's lap. "Do
+you recognize that face? Is it not a mute accusation to your warped
+conscience?" The voice, changing from the monotone of narrative, grew
+strong and contemptuous. "I know you. I recognized you the moment I laid
+eyes on you, only I could not place you. Perhaps it was because it
+did not seem possible that you would dare show your face to civilized
+people. That photograph has done its work. By the Lord, but you're a
+fine rascal! Not a bit changed. Have you forgotten your Spanish? As God
+hears me, I shall hold you up."
+
+"You are a very young man," said Beauvais, rising. He was still smiling.
+"Do you know why I asked you here? For this very reason. Madame divined
+you well. She said that you had a dash of what romanticists call valor,
+but that you never saw an inch before your nose. I knew that you would
+be at the archbishop's; I knew that you would follow me to this room.
+Indeed, you might have suspected as much by the unusual arrangement of
+the fixtures of the room. I placed that photograph there, trusting to
+your rather acute eyesight.
+
+"My memory seems to be better than yours. I knew you the first time
+I saw you in Bleiborg. I was waiting only to see how much you had
+remembered. I am not Colonel Beauvais; I am not Urquijo; I am the last
+of a noble Austrian house, in exile, but on the eve of recall. Your
+knowledge would, of course, be disastrous to my ambitions. That is why
+I wanted to find out how much you know. You know too much, too much by
+half; and since you have walked into the lion's den, you shall never
+leave it alive." With this he sprang to the wall and tore down the
+rapiers, one of which he flung at Maurice's feet.
+
+Maurice felt the hand of paralysis on his nerves. He looked at the
+rapier, then at Beauvais, dazed and incapable of movement. It had been
+so sudden.
+
+"And when they find you in some alley in the lower town they will put
+it down to thieves. You are young and thoughtless," Beauvais went on
+banteringly. "A little discretion and you might have gone with a whole
+skin. We never forget a woman's face, and I knew that you would not
+forget hers. Don't trouble yourself about leaping through the windows;
+the fall will kill you less effectually than I shall."
+
+Maurice pulled himself together. The prospect of death brought back
+lucidity of mind. He at once saw the hopelessness of his position. He
+cursed his lack of forethought. He became pale and furious, but his
+head cleared. His life hung in the balance. He now translated Beauvais's
+smile.
+
+"So you wish to add another to the list?" he said.
+
+"To shield one crime, a man must commit many others. O, this will not be
+murder. It will be a duel, in which you will have no chance. Pick up the
+sword, if only for form's sake." Beauvais caught the wrist thong of the
+rapier between his teeth and rapidly divested himself of his jacket and
+saber straps. With his back toward the door, he rolled up his sleeve and
+discovered a formidable forearm. He tried the blade and thrust several
+times into the air.
+
+"What promise have I," said Maurice, "that you will not run me through
+when I stoop for the sword?" This question did not serve.
+
+Beauvais laughed. "I never get angry in moments like these. I am giving
+you a sword to ease my conscience. I do not assassinate boys."
+
+"But supposing I should kill you by chance?"
+
+Beauvais laughed again. "That is not possible."
+
+Maurice had faced death before, but with more confidence. The thought
+that he had poked his head into a trap stirred him disagreeably. He saw
+that Beauvais possessed a superabundance of confidence, and confidence
+is half of any battle. He picked up the sword and held it between his
+knees, while he threw off his coat and vest, and unbuttoned his collar
+and cuffs. What he had to sell would be sold as dearly as possible. He
+tested the blade, took in a deep breath, fell easily into position--and
+waited.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. SOME PASSAGES AT ARMS
+
+There comes a moment to every man, who faces an imminent danger, when
+the mental vision expands and he sees beyond. By this transient gift of
+prescience he knows what the end will be, whether he is to live or die.
+As Maurice looked into the merciless eyes of his enemy, a dim knowledge
+came to him that this was to be an event and not a catastrophe, a
+fragment of a picture yet to be fully drawn. His confidence and courage
+returned. He thanked God, however, that the light above equalized their
+positions, and that the shadows were behind them.
+
+The swords came together with a click light but ominous. Immediately
+Beauvais stepped back, suddenly threw forward his body, and delivered
+three rapid thrusts. Maurice met them firmly, giving none.
+
+"Ah!" cried Beauvais; "that is good. You know a little. There will be
+sport, besides."
+
+Maurice shut his lips the tighter, and worked purely on the defensive.
+His fencing master had taught him two things, silence and watchfulness.
+While Beauvais made use of his forearm, Maurice as yet depended solely
+on his wrist. Once they came together, guard to guard, neither daring
+to break away until by mutual agreement, spoken only by the eyes, both
+leaped backward out of reach. There was no sound save the quick light
+stamp of feet and the angry murmur of steel scraping against steel.
+Sometimes they moved circlewise, with free blades, waiting and watching.
+Up to now Beauvais's play had been by the book, so to speak, and he
+began to see that his opponent was well read.
+
+"Which side is the pretty rose?" seeking to distract Maurice. "Tell me,
+and I will pin it to you."
+
+Not a muscle moved in Maurice's face.
+
+"It is too, bad," went on Beauvais, "that her Highness finds a lover
+only to lose him. You fool! I read your eyes when you picked up that
+rose. Princesses are not for such as you. I will find her a lover, it
+will be neither you nor Prince Frederick--ah! you caught that nicely.
+But you depend too much on the wrist. Presently it will tire; and
+then--pouf!"
+
+Now and then a a flame, darting from the grate, sparkled on the polished
+steel, and from the steel it shot into the watchful eyes. A quarter
+of an hour passed; still Maurice remained on the defensive. At first
+Beauvais misunderstood the reason, and thought Maurice did not dare run
+the risk of passing from defensive to offensive. But by and by the froth
+of impatience crept into his veins. He could not penetrate above or
+below that defense. The man before him was of marble, with a wrist of
+iron; he neither smiled nor spoke, there was no sign of life at all,
+except in the agile legs, the wrist, and eyes. The Colonel decided to
+change his tactics.
+
+"When I have killed you," he said, "I shall search your pockets, for
+I know that you lie when you say that you have not those certificates.
+Madame was a fool to send you. No man lives who may be trusted. And what
+is your game? Save the Osians? Small good it will do you. Her Highness
+will wed Prince Frederick--mayhap--and all you will get is cold thanks.
+And in such an event, have you reckoned on Madame the duchess? War! And
+who will win? Madame; for she has not only her own army, but mine. Come,
+come! Speak, for when you leave this room your voice will be silent.
+Make use of the gift, since it is about to leave you."
+
+The reply was a sudden straightening of the arm. The blade slipped in
+between the Colonel's forearm and body, and was out again before the
+soldier fully comprehended what had happened. Maurice permitted a cold
+smile to soften the rigidity of his face. Beauvais saw the smile, and
+read it. The thrust had been rendered harmless intentionally. An inch
+nearer, and he had been a dead man. To accomplish such a delicate piece
+of sword play required nothing short of mastery. Beauvais experienced a
+disagreeable chill, which was not unmixed with chagrin. The boy had held
+his life in his hand, and had spared it. He set his teeth, and let loose
+with a fury before which nothing could stand; and Maurice was forced
+back step by step until he was almost up with the wall.
+
+"You damned fool!" the Colonel snarled, "you'll never get that chance
+again."
+
+For the next few minutes it took all the splendid defense Maurice
+possessed to keep the spark in his body. The Colonel's sword was no
+longer a sword, it was a flame; which circled, darted, hissed and
+writhed. Twice Maurice felt the bite of it, once in the arm and again in
+the thigh. These were not deep, but they told him that the end was but
+a short way off. He had no match for this brilliant assault. Something
+must be done, and that at once. He did not desire the Colonel's death,
+and the possibility of accomplishing this was now extremely doubtful.
+But he wanted to live. Life was just beginning--the rough road had
+been left behind. He was choosing between his life and the Colonel's.
+Beauvais, after the fashion of the old masters, was playing for the
+throat. This upward thrusting, when continuous, is difficult to meet,
+and Maurice saw that sooner or later the blade would reach home. If not
+sudden death, it meant speechlessness, and death as a finality. Then the
+voice of his guardian angel spoke.
+
+"I do not wish your life," he said, breaking the silence, "but at the
+same time I wish to live--ah!" Maurice leaped back just in time. As it
+was, the point of his enemy's blade scratched his chin.
+
+They broke and circled. The Colonel feinted. Maurice, with his elbow
+against his side and his forearm extended, waited. Again the Colonel
+lunged for the throat. This time, instead of meeting it in tierce,
+Maurice threw his whole force forward in such a manner as to bring
+the steel guard of his rapier full on the Colonel's point. There was a
+ringing sound of snapping steel, and the Colonel stood with nothing but
+a stump in his grasp.
+
+"There you are," said Maurice, a heat-flash passing over him. Had he
+swerved a hair's breadth from the line, time would have tacked finis to
+the tale. "Now, I am perfectly willing to talk," putting his point to
+the Colonel's breast. "It would inconvenience me to kill you, but do not
+count too much on that."
+
+"Damn you!" cried the Colonel, giving way, his face yellow with rage,
+chagrin and fear. "Kill me, for I swear to God that one or the other of
+us must die! Damn you and your meddling nose!"
+
+"Damn away, chevalier d'industrie; damn away. But live, live, live! That
+will be the keenest punishment. Live! O, my brave killer of boys,
+you thought to play with me as a cat with a mouse, eh? Eh, Captain
+Urquijo-Beauvais-and-What-is-your-name?" He pressed the point here,
+there, everywhere. "You were too confident. Pardon me if I appear to
+brag, but I have taken lessons of the best fencing masters in Europe,
+and three times, while you devoted your talents to monologues, I could
+have pinned you like one of those butterflies on the wall there. Have
+you ever heard of the sword of Damocles? Well, well; it hangs over many
+a head to-day. I will be yours. I give you forty-eight hours to arrange
+your personal affairs. If after that time you are still in this part
+of the country, I shall inform the proper authorities in Vienna. The
+republic has representation there. Of a noble Austrian house, on the eve
+of recall? I think not."
+
+Beauvais made a desperate attempt to clutch the blade in his hands.
+
+"No, no!" laughed Maurice, making rapid prods which caused Beauvais to
+wince. "Now, back; farther, farther. I do not like the idea of having my
+back to the door."
+
+Beauvais suddenly wheeled and dashed for the mantel. But as he
+endeavored to lay hand on the revolver Maurice brought down the blade on
+the Colonel's knuckles, leaving a livid welt. Maurice took possession
+of the weapon, while a grimace of agony shot over the Colonel's face.
+Seeing that the chambers were loaded, Maurice threw down the sword.
+
+"Well, well!" he said, cocking the weapon. "And I saw it when I entered
+the room. It would have saved a good deal of trouble." Beauvais grew
+white. "O," Maurice continued, "I am not going to shoot you. I wish
+merely to call your valet." He aimed at the grate and pressed the
+trigger, and the report, vibrating within the four walls, was deafening.
+
+A moment passed, and the valet, with bulging eyes and blanched face,
+peered in. Seeing how matters stood, he made as though to retreat.
+
+Maurice leveled the smoking revolver. "Come in, Francois; your master
+will have need of you."
+
+Francois complied, vertigo in his limbs. "My God!" he cried, wringing
+his hands.
+
+"Your master tried to murder me," said Maurice. Francois had heard
+voices like this before, and it conveyed to him that a fine quality of
+anger lay close to the surface. "Take down yonder window curtain cord."
+Francois did so. "Now bind your master's hands with it."
+
+"Francois," cried the Colonel, "if you so much as lay a finger on me,
+I'll kill you."
+
+"Francois, I will kill you if you don't," said Maurice.
+
+"My God!" wailed the valet at loss which to obey when to obey either
+meant death. His teeth chattered.
+
+"You may have all the time you want, Francois, to wring your hands when
+I am gone. Come; to work. Colonel, submit. I'm in a hurry and have no
+time to spare. While I do not desire to kill you, self-preservation will
+force me to put a bullet into your hide, which will make you an inmate
+of the city hospital. Bind his hands behind his back, and no more
+nonsense."
+
+"Monsieur," appealingly to Beauvais, "my God, I am forced. He will kill
+me!"
+
+"So will I," grimly; "by God, I will!" Beauvais had a plan. If he could
+keep Maurice long enough, help might arrive. And he had an excellent
+story to tell. Still Francois doddered. With his eye on the Colonel and
+the revolver sighted, Maurice picked up the sword. He gave Francois a
+vigorous prod. Francois needed no further inducement. He started forward
+with alacrity. In the wink of an eye he threw the cord around Beauvais's
+arms and pinned them to his sides. Beauvais swore, but the valet was
+strong in his fright. He struggled and wound and knotted and tied,
+murmuring his pitiful "Mon Dieu!" the while, till the Colonel was the
+central figure of a Gordian knot.
+
+"That will do," said Maurice. "Now, Francois, good and faithful servant,
+take your master over to the lounge, and sit down beside him until I get
+into my clothes. Yes; that's it." He shoved his collar and tie into
+a pocket, slipped on his vest and coat, put on his hat and slung his
+topcoat over his arm. During these maneuvers the revolver remained
+conspicuously in sight. "Now, Francois, lead the way to the street door.
+By the time you return to your illustrious master, who is the prince or
+duke of something or other, pursuit will be out of the question. Now, as
+for you," turning to Beauvais, "the forty-eight hours hold good. During
+that time I shall go armed. Forty-eight hours from now I shall inform
+the authorities at the nearest consulate. If they catch you, that's your
+affair. Off we go, Francois."
+
+"By God!--" began Beauvais, struggling to his feet.
+
+"Come so far as this door," warned Maurice, "and, bound or not, I'll
+knock you down. Hang you! Do you think my temper will improve in your
+immediate vicinity? Do you think for a moment that I do not lust for
+your blood as heartily as you lust for mine? Go to the devil your own
+way; you'll go fast enough!" He caught Francois by the shoulders and
+pushed him into the hall, followed, and closed the door. Francois had
+been graduated from the stables, therefore his courage never rose to
+sublime heights. All the way down the stairs he lamented; and each time
+he turned his head and saw the glitter of the revolver barrel he choked
+with terror.
+
+"If you do not kill me, Monsieur, he will; he will, I know he will!
+My God, how did it happen? He will kill me!" and the voice sank into a
+muffled sob.
+
+Despite the gravity of the situation, Maurice could not repress his
+laughter. "He will not harm you; he threatened you merely to delay me.
+Open the door." He stepped out into the refreshing air. "By the way,
+tell your master not to go to the trouble of having me arrested, for the
+first thing in the morning I shall place a sealed packet in the hands
+of the British minister, to be opened if I do not call for it within
+twenty-four hours. And say to your master that I shall keep the rose."
+
+"Mon Dieu! A woman! I might have known!" ejaculated Francois, as the
+door banged in his face.
+
+Maurice, on reaching the pavement, took to his legs, for he saw three
+men rapidly approaching. Perhaps they had heard the pistol shot. He
+concluded not to wait to learn. He continued his rush till he gained his
+room. It was two o'clock. He had been in the Colonel's room nearly three
+hours. It seemed only so many minutes. He hunted for his brandy, found
+it and swallowed several mouthfuls. Then he dropped into a chair from
+sheer exhaustion. Reaction laid hold of him. His hands shook, his legs
+trembled, and perspiration rolled down his cheek.
+
+"By George!" This exclamation stood alone, but it was an Odyssey. He
+remained stupefied, staring at his shoes, over which his stockings had
+fallen. His shirt buttons were gone, and the bosom was guiltless of its
+former immaculateness. After a time he became conscious of a burning
+pain in the elbow of his right arm. He glanced down at his hand, to find
+it covered with drying blood. He jumped up and cast about his clothes.
+One leg of his trousers was soaked, and the dull ache in his thigh
+told the cause. He salved the wounds and bound them in strips of
+handkerchiefs, which he held in place by using some of the cast-off
+cravats.
+
+"That was about as close to death as a man can get and pull out. I
+feel as if I had swallowed that cursed blade of his. I am an ass, sure
+enough. I've always a bad cold when there's a rat about; can't smell
+him. And the rascal remembered me! Will he stay in spite of my threat?
+I'll hang on here till to-morrow. If he stays--I won't. He has the
+devil's own of a sword. Hang it, my nerves are all gone to smash."
+
+Soon some gentler thought took hold, and he smiled tenderly. He brought
+forth the rose, turned it this way and that, studied it, stroked it,
+held it to his lips as a lover holds the hand of the woman he loves. Her
+rose; somehow his heart told him that she had laughed because Beauvais
+had stooped in vain.
+
+"Ah, Maurice," he said, "you are growing over fond. But why not? Who
+will know? To have loved is something."
+
+He crept into bed; but sleep refused him its offices, and he tossed
+about in troubled dreams. He fought all kinds of duels with all sorts
+of weapons. He was killed a half dozen times, but the archbishop
+always gave him something which rekindled the vital spark. A thousand
+Beauvaises raged at him. A thousand princesses were ever in the
+background, waiting to be saved. He swore to kill these Beauvaises, and
+after many fruitless endeavors, he succeeded in smothering them in their
+gray pelisses. Then he woke, as dreamers always wake when they pass some
+great dream-crisis, and found himself in a deadly struggle with a pillow
+and a bed-post. He laughed and sprang out of bed.
+
+"It's no use, I can't sleep. I am an old woman."
+
+So he lit his pipe and sat dreaming with his eyes open, smoking and
+smoking, until the sickly pallor of dawn appeared in the sky, and he
+knew that day had come.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. A MINOR CHORD AND A CHANGE OF MOVEMENT
+
+Marshal Kampf, wrapt in his military cloak, with the peak of his
+cap drawn over his eyes, sat on one of the rustic benches in the
+archbishop's gardens and reflected. The archbishop had announced an
+informal levee, the first since the king's illness. He had impressed the
+Marshal with the fact that his presence was both urgent and necessary.
+Disturbed as he was by the unusual command, the Marshal had arrived an
+hour too early. Since the prelate would not rise until nine, the Marshal
+told the valet that he would wait in the gardens.
+
+An informal levee, he mused. What was the meaning of it? Had that master
+of craft and silence found a breach in the enemy's fortifications? He
+rubbed the chill from his nose, crossed and re-crossed his legs and
+teetered till the spurs on his boots set up a tuneful jingle.
+
+So far as he himself was concerned, he was not worried. The prelate knew
+his views and knew that he would stand or fall with them. He had never
+looked for benefits, as did those around him. He had offered what he
+had without hope of reward, because he had considered it his duty. And,
+after all, what had the Osian done that he should be driven to this
+ignominious end? His motives never could be questioned; each act had
+been in some way for the country's good. Every king is a usurper to
+those who oppose him.
+
+Would the kingdom be bettered in having a queen against whom the
+confederation itself was opposed? Would it not be adding a twofold
+burden to the one? The kingdom was at peace with those countries
+from which it had most to fear. Was it wise to antagonize them? Small
+independent states were independent only by courtesy. Again, why had
+Austria contrived to place an alien on the throne, in face of popular
+sentiment? Would Austria's interests have been less safe in the advent
+of rightful succession? Up to now, what had Austria gained by ignoring
+the true house? Outwardly nothing, but below the surface? Who could
+answer?
+
+For eleven years he had tried to discover the secret purpose of Austria,
+but, like others, he had failed; and the Austrian minister was less
+decipherable than the "Chinese puzzle." He was positive that none of
+the arch-conspirators knew; they were blinded by self-interest. And the
+archbishop? The Marshal rubbed his nose again, not, however, because
+it was cold. Did any one know what was going on behind the smiling mask
+which the reticent prelate showed to the world? The Marshal poked his
+chin above his collar, and the wrinkles fell away from his gray eyes.
+
+The sky was clear and brilliant, and a tonic from the forests sweetened
+the rushing air. The lake was ruffled out of its usual calm, and rolled
+and galloped along the distant shores and flashed on the golden sands.
+Above the patches of red and brown and yellow the hills and mountains
+stood out in bold, decided lines.
+
+Water fowl swept along the marshes. The doves in twos and threes
+fluttered down to the path, strutted about in their peculiarly awkward
+fashion, and doubtfully eyed the silent gray figure on the bench, as
+if to question his right to be there this time of the morning, their
+trysting hour. Presently the whole flock came down, and began cooing and
+waltzing at the Marshal's feet. He soon discovered the cause.
+
+Her Royal Highness was coming through the opening in the hedgerow which
+separated the two confines. She carried a basket on her arm, and the
+bulldog followed at her heels, holding his injured leg in the air, and
+limping on the remaining three. At the sight of her the doves rose and
+circled above her head. She smiled and threw into the air handful after
+handful of cake and bread crumbs. In their eagerness the doves alighted
+on her shoulders, on the rim of the basket, and even on the broad
+back of the dog, who was too sober to give attention to this seeming
+indignity. He kept his eye on his mistress's skirts, moved when she
+moved, and stopped when she stopped. A gray-white cloud enveloped them.
+
+The Marshal, with a curious sensation in his heart, observed this
+exquisite, living picture. He was childless; and though he was by
+nature undemonstrative, he was very fond of this youth. Her cheeks were
+scarlet, her rosy lips were parted in excitement, and her eyes glistened
+with pleasure. With all her twenty years, she was but ten in fancy;
+a woman, yet a child, unlettered in worldly wit, wise in her love of
+nature. Not until she had thrown away the last of the crumbs did she
+notice the Marshal. He rose and bowed.
+
+"Good morning, your Highness. I am very much interested in your court.
+And do you hold it every morning?"
+
+"Even when it rains," she said, smiling. "I am so glad to see you; I
+wanted to talk to you last night, but I could not find the opportunity.
+Let me share the bench with you."
+
+And youth and age sat down together. The bulldog planted himself in the
+middle of the path and blinked at his sworn enemy. The Marshal had no
+love for him, and he was well aware of it; at present, an armistice.
+
+The princess gazed at the rollicking waters, at her doves, thence into
+the inquiring gray eyes of the old soldier.
+
+"Do you remember," she said, "how I used to climb on your knees, ever so
+long ago, and listen to your fairy stories?"
+
+"Eh! And is it possible that your Highness remembers?" wrinkles of
+delight gathering in his cheeks. "But why `ever so long ago'? It was but
+yesterday. And your Highness remembers!"
+
+"I am like my father; I never forget!" She looked toward the waters
+again. "I can recall only one story. It was about a princess who lost
+all her friends through the offices of a wicked fairy. I remember it
+because it was the only story you told me that had a sad ending. It was
+one of Andersen's. Her father and mother died, and the moment she was
+left alone her enemies set to work and toppled over her throne. She was
+cast out into the world, having no friend but a dog; but the dog always
+found something to eat, and protected her from giants and robbers and
+wolves.
+
+"Many a time I thought of her, and cried because she was so unhappy.
+Well, she traveled from place to place, footsore and weary, but in her
+own country no one dared aid her, for fear of displeasing the wicked
+fairy, who at this time was all powerful. So she entered a strange land,
+where some peasants took her in, clothed and fed her, and gave her a
+staff and a flock of geese to tend. And day after day she guarded the
+flock, telling her sorrows to the dog, how she missed the dear ones and
+the home of her childhood.
+
+"One day the reigning prince of this strange land passed by while
+hunting, and he saw the princess tending her geese. He made inquiries,
+and when he found that the beautiful goose-girl was a princess, he
+offered to marry her. She consented to become his wife, because she was
+too delicate to drudge. So she and her dog went to live at the palace.
+Once she was married the dog behaved strangely, whining softly, and
+refusing to be consoled. The prince was very kind to them both.
+
+"Alas! It seems that when she left her own country the good fairy had
+lost all track of her, to find her when it was too late. The dog was a
+prince under a wicked spell, and when the spell fell away the princess
+knew that she loved him, and not her husband. She pined away and
+died. How many times I have thought of her, poor, lonely, fairy-tale
+princess!"
+
+The old soldier blinked at the doves, and there was a furrow between his
+eyes. Yes; how well he remembered telling her that story. But, as she
+repeated it, it was clothed with a strange significance. Somehow, he
+found himself voiceless; he knew not how to reply.
+
+"Monsieur," she said suddenly, "tell me, what has my poor father done
+that these people should hate him and desire his ruin?"
+
+"He has been kind to them, my child," his gaze still riveted on the
+doves; "that is all. He has given them beautiful parks, he has made them
+a beautiful city. A king who thinks of his people's welfare is never
+understood. And ignorant and ungrateful people always hate those to whom
+they are under obligations. It is the way of the world."
+
+"And--and you, Marshal?" timidly.
+
+"And I?"
+
+"Yes. They whisper that--that--O, Marshal, is it you who will forsake
+us in our need? I have heard many things of late which were not intended
+for my ears. My father and I, we are so alone. I have never known the
+comradeship of young people; I have never had that which youth longs
+for--a confidant of my own age. The young people I know serve me simply
+for their own ends, and not because they love me.
+
+"I have never spoken thus before to-day, save to this dog. He has been
+my confidant; but he can not speak except with his kind old eyes, and he
+can not understand as I would have him. And they hate even him because
+they know that I love him. Poor dog!
+
+"What my father has done has always been wrong in his own eyes, but he
+sinned for my sake, and God will forgive him. He gave up the home he
+loved for my sake. O, that I had known and understood! I was only six.
+We are so alone; we have no place to go, no friends save two, and they
+are helpless. And now I am to make a sacrifice for him to repay him for
+all he has done for me. I have promised my hand to one I do not love;
+even he forsakes me. But love is not the portion of princesses. Love to
+them is a fairy story. To secure my father's throne I have sacrificed my
+girlhood dreams. Ah! and they were so sweet and dear."
+
+She put a hand to her throat as if something had tightened there.
+"Marshal, I beg of you to tell me the truth, the truth! Is my father
+dying? Is he? He--they will not tell me the truth. And I. .. never to
+hear his voice again! The truth, for pity's sake!" She caught at his
+hands and strove to read his eyes. "For pity's sake!"
+
+He drew his breath deeply. He dared not look into her eyes for fear she
+might see the tears in his; so he bent hastily and pressed her hands to
+his lips. But in his heart he knew that his promise to the dead was gone
+with the winds, and that he would shed the last drop of blood in his
+withered veins for the sake of this sad, lonely child.
+
+"Your father, my child, will never stand up straight again," he said.
+"As for the rest, that is in the hands of God. But I swear to you that
+this dried-up old heart beats only for you. I will stand or fall with
+you, in good times or bad." And he rubbed his nose more fiercely than
+ever. "Had I a daughter--But there! I have none."
+
+"My heart is breaking," she said, with a little sob. She sank back, her
+head drooped to the arm of the bench, and she made no effort to stem the
+flood of tears. "I have no mother, and now my father is to leave me.
+And I love him so, I love him so! He has sacrificed all his happiness to
+secure mine--in vain. I laugh and smile because he asks me to, and all
+the while my heart is breaking, breaking."
+
+At this juncture the doves rose hurriedly. The Marshal discovered the
+archbishop's valet making toward him.
+
+"Monsieur the Marshal, Monseigneur breakfasts and requests you to join
+him."
+
+"Immediately;" and the Marshal rose. He placed his hand on the dark
+head. "Keep up your heart, my child," he said, "and we shall see if I
+have grown too old for service." He squared his shoulders and followed
+the valet, who viewed the scene with a valet's usual nonchalance. When
+the Marshal reached the steps to the side entrance, he looked back. The
+dog had taken his place, and the girl had buried her face in his neck. A
+moment later the old soldier was ushered into the archbishop's presence,
+but neither with fear nor uneasiness in his heart.
+
+"Ah! Good morning, Marshal," said the prelate. "Be seated. Did you not
+find it chilly in the gardens?"
+
+"Not the least. It is a fine day. I have just left her Royal Highness."
+
+The prelate arched his eyebrows, and an interrogation shot out from
+under them.
+
+"Yes," answered the observant soldier. "My heart has ever been hers;
+this time it is my hand and brain."
+
+The prelate's egg spoon remained poised in mid-air; then it dropped with
+a clatter into the cup! But a moment gone he had held a sword in his
+hand; he was disarmed.
+
+"I have promised to stand and fall with her."
+
+"Stand and fall? Why not 'or'?" with a long, steadfast gaze.
+
+"Did I say 'and'? Well, then," stolidly, "perhaps that is the word I
+meant to use. If I do the one I shall certainly do the other."
+
+The archbishop absently stirred his eggs.
+
+"God is witness," said the Marshal, "I have always been honest."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And neutral."
+
+"Yes; honest and neutral."
+
+"But a man, a lonely man like myself, can not always master the impulses
+of the heart; and I have surrendered to mine."
+
+The listener turned to some documents which lay beside the cup, and
+idly fingered them. "I am glad; I am very glad. I have always
+secretly admired you; and to tell the truth, I have feared you most of
+all--because you are honest."
+
+The Marshal shifted his saber around and drew his knees together.
+"I return the compliment," frankly. "I have never feared you; I have
+distrusted you."
+
+"And why distrusted?"
+
+"Because Leopold of Osia would never have forsaken his birthright, nor
+looked toward a throne, had you not pointed the way and coveted the
+archbishopric."
+
+"I wished only to make him great;" but the prelate lowered his eyes.
+
+"And share his greatness," was the shrewd rejoinder. "I am an old
+man, and frankness in old age is pardonable. There are numbers of
+disinterested men in the world, but unfortunately they happen to be
+dead. O, I do not blame you; there is human nature in most of us. But
+the days of Richelieus and Mazarins are past. The Church is simply the
+church, and is no longer the power behind the throne. I have served the
+house of Auersperg for fifty years, that is to say, since I was sixteen;
+I had hoped to die in the service. Perhaps my own reason for distrusting
+you has not been disinterested."
+
+"Perhaps not."
+
+"And as I now stand I shall die neither in the service of the house of
+Auersperg nor of Osia. It is not the princess; it is the lonely girl."
+
+"I need not tell you," said the prelate quietly, "that I am in Bleiberg
+only for that purpose. And since we are together, I will tell you
+this: Madame the duchess will never sit upon this throne. To-day I am
+practically regent, with full powers from his Majesty. I have summoned
+von Wallenstein and Mollendorf for a purpose which I shall make known to
+you." He held up two documents, and gently waving them: "These contain
+the dismissal of both gentlemen, together with my reasons. There were
+three; one I shall now destroy because it has suddenly become void." He
+tore it up, turned, and flung the pieces into the grate.
+
+The Marshal glanced instinctively at his shoulder straps, and saw that
+they had come very near to oblivion.
+
+"There is nothing more, Marshal," went on the prelate. "What I had to
+say to you has slipped my mind. Under the change of circumstances, it
+might embarrass you to meet von Wallenstein and Mollendorf. You have
+spoken frankly, and in justice to you I will return in kind. Yes, in the
+old days I was ambitious; but God has punished me through those I love.
+I shall leave to you the selection of a new Colonel of the cuirassiers."
+
+"What! and Beauvais, too?" exclaimed the Marshal.
+
+"Yes. My plans require it. I have formed a new cabinet, which will meet
+to-night at eight. I shall expect you to be present."
+
+The two old men rose. Suddenly, a kindly smile broke through the
+austereness of the prelate's countenance, and he thrust out his hand;
+the old soldier met it.
+
+"Providence always watches over the innocent," said the prelate, "else
+we would have been still at war. Good morning."
+
+The Marshal returned home, thoughtful and taciturn. What would be the
+end?
+
+Ten minutes after the Marshal's departure, von Wallenstein and
+Mollendorf entered the prelate's breakfast room.
+
+"Good morning, Messieurs," said the churchman, the expression on his
+face losing its softness, and the glint of triumph stealing into
+his keen eyes. "I am acting on behalf of his Majesty this morning,"
+presenting a document to each. "Observe them carefully." He turned and
+left the room. The archbishop had not only eaten a breakfast, he had
+devoured a cabinet.
+
+Count von Wallenstein watched the retreating figure of the prelate till
+the door closed behind it; then he smiled at Mollendorf, who had not the
+courage to return it, and who stared at the parchment in his hand as if
+it were possessed of basilisk eyes.
+
+"Monseigneur," said the count, as he glanced through the contents of
+the document, "has forestalled me. Well, well; I do not begrudge him his
+last card. He has played it; let us go."
+
+"Perhaps," faltered Mollendorf, "he has played his first card. What are
+you going to do?"
+
+"Remain at home and wait. And I shall not have long to wait. The end is
+near."
+
+"Count, I tell you that the archbishop is not a man to play thus unless
+something strong were behind him. You do wrong not to fear him."
+
+Von Wallenstein recalled the warning of the Colonel of the cuirassiers.
+"Nevertheless, we are too strong to fear him."
+
+"Monseigneur is in correspondence with Austria," said the minister of
+police, quietly.
+
+"You said nothing of this before," was the surprised reply.
+
+"It was only this morning that I learned it."
+
+The count's gaze roamed about the room, and finally rested on the
+charred slips of paper in the grate. He shrugged.
+
+"If he corresponds with Austria it is too late," he said. "Come, let us
+go." He snapped his fingers in the air, and Mollendorf followed him from
+the room.
+
+
+* * * * * *
+
+
+The princess still remained on the rustic bench; her head was bowed, but
+her tears were dried.
+
+"O, Bull," she whispered, "and you and I shall soon be all alone!"
+
+A few doves fluttered about her; the hills flamed beneath the chill
+September sky, the waters sang and laughed, but she saw not nor heard.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. A CHANCE RIDE IN THE NIGHT
+
+Maurice, who had wisely slept the larger part of the day, and amused
+himself at solitary billiards until dinner, came out on the terrace
+to smoke his after-dinner cigar. He watched the sun as, like a ball of
+rusted brass, it slid down behind the hills, leaving the glowing embers
+of a smoldering day on the hilltops. The vermilion deepened into charred
+umber, and soon the west was a blackened grate; another day vanished in
+ashes. The filmy golden pallor of twilight now blurred the landscape;
+the wind increased with a gayer, madder, keener touch; the lake went
+billowing in shadows of gray and black, and one by one the lamps of the
+city sprang up, vivid as sparks from an anvil. Now and again the thin,
+clear music of the band drifted across from the park. The fountain
+glimmered in the Platz, the cafes began to glitter, carriages rolled
+hither and thither. The city had taken on its colorful night.
+
+"Well, here's another day gone," he mused, rubbing his elbow, which
+was yet stiff. "I am anxious to know what that sinner is doing. Has
+he pulled up stakes or has he stayed to get a whack at me? I hope he's
+gone; he's a bad Indian, and if anything, he'll want my scalp in his
+belt before he goes. Hang it! It seems that I have poked my head into
+every bear trap in the kingdom. I may not get out of the next one. How
+clever I was, to be sure! It all comes from loving the dramatic. I am a
+diplomat, but nobody would guess it at first sight. To talk to a man as
+I talked to him, and to threaten! He said I was young; I was, but I grow
+older every day. And the wise word now is, don't imitate the bull of
+the trestle," as he recalled an American cartoon which at that day was
+having vogue in the American colony in Vienna.
+
+"I like adventure, I know, but I'm going to give the Colonel a wide
+berth. If he sees me first, off the board I go. Where will he go--to the
+duchy? I trust not; we both can not settle in that territory; it's too
+small. And yet I am bound to go back; it is not my promise so much as
+it is my cursed curiosity. By George!" rubbing his elbow gently. "And to
+think, Maurice, that you might not have witnessed this sunset but for
+a bit of fencing trickery. What a turn that picture of Inez gave me! I
+knew him in a second--and like the ass I was, I told him so. And to meet
+him here, almost a left-handed king; no wonder I did not recognize him.
+
+"I should like to come in on Fitzgerald to-night. His father must have
+had a crazy streak in him somewhere. Four millions to throw away;
+humph! And who the deuce has those certificates?" He lolled against
+the parapet. "If I had four millions, and if Prince Frederick had
+disappeared for good.... Why are things so jumbled up, at sixes and
+sevens? We are all human beings; why should some be placed higher than
+others? A prince is no better than I am, and may be not half so good.
+
+"Sometimes I like to get up high somewhere and look down on every one
+else; every one else looks so small that it's comforting. The true
+philosopher has no desire; he sits down and views the world as if he
+were not a part of it. Perhaps it is best so. Yes, I would like four
+millions and a principality.... Heigho! how bracing the air is, and what
+a night for a ride! I've a mind to exercise Madame's horse. A long lone
+ride on the opposite side of the lake, on the road to Italy; come, let's
+try it. Better that than mope."
+
+He mounted to the veranda, and for the first time he noticed the
+suppressed excitement which lit the faces of those around him. Groups
+were gathered here and there, talking, gesticulating, and flourishing
+the evening papers. He moved toward the nearest group.
+
+"The archbishop has dismissed the cabinet... crisis imminent."
+
+"The Austrian minister has recalled his invitations to the embassy
+ball."
+
+"The archbishop will not be able to form another cabinet."
+
+"Count von Wallenstein..."
+
+"Mollendorf and Beauvais, too--"
+
+"The king is dying... The archbishop has been given full powers."
+
+"The army will revolt unless Beauvais is recalled."
+
+"And the Marshal says here..."
+
+Maurice waited to hear no more, but climbed through the window into the
+office.
+
+"By George, something has happened since last night. I must have an
+evening paper." He found one, and read an elaborate account of what had
+taken place during the day. Von Wallenstein had been relieved of the
+finance. Mollendorf of the police, Erzberg of foreign affairs, and
+Beauvais of his epaulettes. There remained only the archbishop, the
+chancellor and the Marshal. The editorial was virulent in its attack on
+the archbishop, blustered and threatened, and predicted that the fall
+of the dynasty was but a matter of a few hours. For it asserted that
+the prelate could not form another cabinet, and without a cabinet
+there could be no government. It was not possible for the archbishop to
+shoulder the burden alone; he must reinstate the ministry or fall.
+
+"And this is the beginning of the end," said Maurice, throwing aside the
+paper. "What will happen next? The old prelate is not a man to play to
+the gallery. Has he found out the double dealing of Beauvais? That takes
+a burden off my shoulders--unless he goes at once to the duchy. But why
+wasn't the cabinet dismissed ages ago? It is now too late. And where is
+Prince Frederick to the rescue? There is something going on, and what it
+is only the archbishop knows. That smile of his! How will it end? I'd
+like to see von Mitter, who seems to be a good gossip. And that poor,
+friendless, paralytic king! I say, but it makes the blood grow warm."
+
+He left the chair and paced the office confines. Only one thing went
+echoing through his brain, and that was he could do nothing. The sooner
+he settled down in the attitude of a spectator the better for him.
+Besides, he was an official in the employ of a foreign country, and
+it would be the height of indiscretion to meddle, even in a private
+capacity. It would be to jeopardize his diplomatic career, and that
+would be ridiculous.
+
+A porter touched him on the shoulder.
+
+"A letter for your Excellency."
+
+It was from the American minister in Vienna.
+
+"My dear Carewe: I have a service to ask of you. The British minister is
+worried over the disappearance of a fellow-countryman, Lord Fitzgerald.
+He set out for Bleiberg, leaving instructions to look him up if nothing
+was heard of him within a week. Two weeks have gone. Knowing you to
+be in Bleiberg, I believed you might take the trouble to look into the
+affair. The British ambassador hints at strange things, as if he feared
+foul play. I shall have urgent need of you by the first of October; our
+charge d'affaires is to return home on account of ill-health, and your
+appointment to that office is a matter of a few days."
+
+Maurice whistled. "That is good news; not Haine's illness, but that I
+have an excuse to meddle here. I'll telegraph at once. And I'll take
+the ride besides." He went to his room and buckled on his spurs, and
+thoughtfully slipped his revolver into a pocket. "I am not going to take
+any chances, even in the dark." Once again in the office, he stepped
+up to the desk and ordered his horse to be brought around to the cafe
+entrance.
+
+"Certainly," said the clerk. Then in low tones "There has been a curious
+exchange in saddles, Monsieur."
+
+"Saddles?"
+
+"Yes. The saddle in your stall is, curiously enough, stamped with the
+arms of the house of Auersperg. How that military saddle came into the
+stables is more than the grooms can solve."
+
+"O," said Maurice, with an assumption of carelessness; "that is all
+right. It's the saddle I arrived on. The horse and saddle belong to
+Madame the duchess. I have been visiting at the Red Chateau. I shall
+return in the morning."
+
+"Ah," said the clerk, with a furtive smile which Maurice lost; "that
+accounts for the mystery."
+
+"Here are two letters that must get in to-night's mails," Maurice said;
+"and also this telegram should be sent at once."
+
+"As Monsieur desires. Ah, I came near forgetting. There is a note for
+Monsieur, which came this afternoon while Monsieur was asleep."
+
+The envelope was unstamped, and the scrawl was unfamiliar to Maurice.
+On opening it he was surprised to find a hurriedly written note from
+Fitzgerald. In all probability it had been brought by the midnight
+courier on his return from the duchy.
+
+     "In God's name, Maurice, why do you linger?
+     To-morrow morning those consols must be here
+     or they will be useless. Hasten; you know what
+     it means to me.
+                                 Fitzgerald."
+
+Maurice perused it twice, and pulled at his lips. "Madame becomes
+impatient. Poor devil. Somebody is likely to become suddenly rich
+and somebody correspondingly poor. What will they say when I return
+empty-handed? Like as not Madame will accuse me--and Fitzgerald will
+believe her!... The archbishop! That accounts for this bold move. And
+how the deuce did he get hold of them? I give up." And his shoulders
+settled in resignation.
+
+He passed down into the cafe, from there to his horse, which a groom was
+holding at the curb. He swung into the saddle and tossed a coin to the
+man, who touched his cap.
+
+The early moon lifted its silvery bulk above the ragged east, and the
+patches of clouds which swarmed over the face of that white world of
+silence resembled so many rooks. Far away, at the farthermost shore of
+the lake, whenever the moon went free from the clouds, Maurice could see
+the slim gray line of the road which stretched toward Italy.
+
+"It's a fine night," he mused, glancing heavenward. The horse answered
+the touch of the spurs, and cantered away, glad enough to exchange
+the close air of the stables for this fresh gift of the night. Maurice
+guided him around the palaces into the avenue, which derived its name
+from the founder of the opera, in which most of the diplomatic families
+lived. Past the residence of Beauvais he went, and, gazing up at the
+lightless windows, a cold of short duration seized his spine. It bad
+been a hair's breadth betwixt him and death. "Your room, Colonel, is
+better than your company; and hereafter I shall endeavor to avoid both. I
+shall feel that cursed blade of yours for weeks to come."
+
+Carriages rolled past him. A gay throng in evening dress was
+crowding into the opera. The huge placard announced, "Norma--Mlle.
+Lenormand--Royal Opera Troupe." How he would have liked to hear it, with
+Lenormand in the title role. He laughed as he recalled the episodes in
+Vienna which were associated with this queen of song. He waved his
+hand as the opera house sank in the distance. "Au revoir, Celeste, ma
+charmante; adieu." By and by he reached the deserted part of the city,
+and in less than a quarter of an hour branched off into the broad road
+bordering the lake. The horse quickened his gait as he felt the stone
+of the streets no longer beneath his feet, which now fell with muffled
+rhythm on the sound earth. Maurice shared with him the delight of the
+open country, and began to talk to the animal.
+
+"A fine night, eh, old boy? I've ridden many backs, but none easier than
+yours. This air is what gives the blood its color. Too bad; you ought
+not to belong to Madame. She will never think as much of you as I
+should."
+
+The city was falling away behind, and a yellow vapor rose over it. The
+lake tumbled in moonshine. Maurice took to dreaming again--hope and a
+thousand stars, love and a thousand dreams.
+
+"God knows I love her; but what's the use? We can not all have what we
+want; let us make the best of what we have. Philosophy is a comfort only
+to old age. Why should youth bother to reason why? And I--I have not yet
+outgrown youth. I believed I had, but I have not. I did not dream she
+existed, and now she is more to me than anything else in the world.
+Why; I wonder why? I look into a pair of brown eyes, and am seized with
+madness. I hope. For what? O, Bucephalus! let us try to wake and leave
+the dream behind. The gratitude of a princess and a dog... and for this
+a rose. Well, it will prove the substance of many a pipe, many a kindly
+pipe. You miss a good deal, Bucephalus; smoking is an evil habit only to
+those who have not learned to smoke."
+
+The animal replied with a low whinney, and Maurice, believing that
+the horse had given an ear to his monologue, laughed. But he flattered
+himself. The horse whinneyed because he inhaled the faint odor of his
+kind. He drew down on the rein and settled into a swinging trot, which
+to Maurice's surprise was faster and easier than the canter. They
+covered a mile this way, when Maurice's roving eye discovered moving
+shadows, perhaps half a mile in advance.
+
+"Hello! we're not the only ones jogging along. Eh, what's that?"
+Something flashed brightly, like silver reflecting moonlight; then came
+a spark of flame, which died immediately, and later Maurice caught an
+echo which resembled the bursting of a leaf against the lips. "Come;
+that looks like a pistol shot."
+
+Again the flash of silver, broader and clearer this time; and Maurice
+could now separate the shadow-shapes. A carriage of some sort rolled
+from side to side, and two smaller shadows followed its wild flight.
+One--two--three times Maurice saw the sparks and heard the faint
+reports. He became excited. Something extraordinary was taking place on
+the lonely road. Suddenly the top of the carriage replied with spiteful
+flashes of red. Then the moon came out from behind the clouds, and
+the picture was vividly outlined. Two continuous flashes of silver....
+Cuirassiers! Maurice loosened the rein, and the horse went forward as
+smoothly as a sail. The distance grew visibly less. The carriage opened
+fire again, and Maurice heard the sinister m-m-m of a bullet winging
+past him.
+
+"The wrong man may get hit, Bucephalus," he said, bending to the neck
+of the horse; "which is not unusual. You're pulling them down, old boy;
+keep it up. There's trouble ahead, and since the cuirassiers are for the
+king, we'll stand by the cuirassiers."
+
+On they flew, nearer and nearer, until the pistol shots were no longer
+echoes. Two other horsemen came into view, in advance of the carriage.
+Five minutes more of this exciting chase, and the faces took on lines
+and grew into features. Up, up crept the gallant little horse, his hoofs
+rattling against the road like snares on a drum. When within a dozen
+rods, Maurice saw one of the cuirassiers turn and level a revolver at
+him. Fortunately the horse swerved, and the ball went wide.
+
+"Don't shoot!" Maurice yelled; "don't shoot!"
+
+The face he saw was von Mitter's. His heart clogged in his throat, not
+at the danger which threatened him, but at the thought of what that
+carriage might contain.
+
+A short time passed, during which nothing was heard but the striking
+of galloping hoofs and the rumble of the carriage. Maurice soon drew
+abreast of von Mitter. There was a gash on the latter's cheek, and the
+blood from it dripped on his cuirass.
+
+"Close for you, my friend," he gasped; when he recognized the new
+arrival. "Have you--God! my leg that time," with a groan.
+
+For the fire of the carriage had spoken again, and true.
+
+Maurice shut his teeth, drew his revolver, cocked it and applied the
+spurs. With a bound he shot past von Mitter, who was cursing deeply and
+trying to reload. Maurice did not propose to waste powder on the driver,
+but was determined to bring down one of the carriage horses, which
+were marvelous brutes for speed. Scharfenstein kept popping away at the
+driver, but without apparent result. Finally Maurice secured the desired
+range. He raised the revolver, rested the barrel between the left thumb
+and forefinger and pressed the trigger. The nearest carriage horse
+lurched to his knees, a bullet in his brain, dragging his mate with him.
+The race had come to an end.
+
+At once the two horsemen in front separated; one continued toward the
+great forest, while the other took to the hills. Scharfenstein started
+in pursuit of the latter. As for the carriage, it came to an abrupt
+stand. The driver made a flying leap toward the lake, but stumbled and
+fell, and before he could regain his feet Maurice was off his horse and
+on his quarry. He caught the fellow by the throat and pressed him to the
+earth, kneeling on his chest.
+
+"Hold him!" cried von Mitter, coming up with a limp, "hold him till I
+knock in his head, damn him!"
+
+"No, no!" said Maurice, "you can't get information out of a dead man."
+
+"It's all up with me," groaned the Lieutenant. "I'll ask for my
+discharge. I could hit nothing, my hand trembled. I was afraid of
+shooting into the carriage."
+
+Maurice turned his attention to the man beneath him. "Now, you devil,"
+he cried, "a clean breast of it, or off the board you go. O!" suddenly
+peering down. "By the Lord, so it is you--you--you!" savagely bumping
+the fellow's head against the earth. "Spy!"
+
+"You are killing me!"
+
+"Small matter. Who is this fellow?" asked Maurice.
+
+"Johann Kopf, a spy, a police rat, and God knows what else," answered
+von Mitter, limping toward the carriage. "Curse the leg!" He forced
+the door and peered inside. "Fainted! I thought as much." He lifted the
+inanimate bundle which lay huddled in between the seats and carried it
+to the side of the road, where he tenderly laid it. He rubbed the girl's
+wrists, unmindful of the blood which fell from his face and left dark
+stains on her dress. "Thank God," heartily, "that her Royal Highness was
+suffering from a headache. She would have died from fright."
+
+Maurice felt the straining cords in the prisoner's neck grow limp. The
+rascal had fainted.
+
+"Not her Highness?" Maurice asked, the weight of dread lifting from his
+heart.
+
+"No. Her Royal Highness sent Camille, her maid of honor, veiled and
+dressed like herself, to play an innocent jest on her old nurse. Some
+one shall account for this; for they mistook Camille for her Highness.
+I'm going to wade out into the water," von Mitter added, staggering to
+his feet.
+
+"You'll never get off your boot," said Maurice.
+
+"I'll cut it off," was the reply, "I shall faint if I do not cool off
+the leg. The ball is somewhere in the calf." And he waded out into the
+water until it reached above his knees. Thus he stood for a moment, then
+returned to the maid, who, on opening her eyes, screamed. "It is all
+over, Camille," said the Lieutenant, throwing an arm about her.
+
+"Your face is bleeding!" she cried, and sank back with her head against
+his broad breast.
+
+As Maurice gazed at the pair he sighed. There were no obstacles here.
+
+Soon Scharfenstein came loping down the hill alone.
+
+"I killed his horse," he said, in response to queries, "but he fled
+into the woods where I could not follow. A bad night for us, Carl, a bad
+night," swinging off his horse. "A boy would have done better work. Whom
+have we here?"
+
+"Kopf," said Maurice, "and he has a ball somewhere inside," holding up a
+bloody hand.
+
+"Kopf?" Scharfenstein cocked his revolver.
+
+The maid of honor placed her hands over her ears and screamed again. Max
+gazed at her, and, with a short, Homeric laugh, lowered the revolver.
+
+"Any time will do," he said. "Ah, he opens his eyes."
+
+The prisoner's eyes rolled wildly about. That frowning face above him...
+was it a vision? Who was it? What was he doing here?
+
+"Who put you up to this?" demanded Maurice.
+
+"You are choking me!"
+
+"Who, I say?"
+
+"Beauvais."
+
+Scharfenstein and von Mitter looked at each other comprehensively.
+
+"Who is this Beauvais? Speak!"
+
+"I am dying, Herr... Your knees--"
+
+Maurice withdrew his knees. "Beauvais; who is he?"
+
+"Prince... Walmoden, formerly of the emperor's staff."
+
+Johann's eyes closed again, and his head fell to one side.
+
+"He looks as if he were done for," said Maurice, standing up. "Let us
+clear up the rubbish and hitch a horse to the carriage. The mate's all
+right."
+
+Von Mitter assisted the maid into the carriage and seated her.
+
+"Go and stay with her," said Maurice, brusquely; "you're half fainting."
+
+"You are very handy, Carewe," said von Mitter gratefully, and he climbed
+in beside the maid, who, her fright gone, gave way to womanly instincts.
+She took her kerchief and wiped the Lieutenant's cheek, pressing his
+hand in hers the while.
+
+Maurice and Scharfenstein worked away at the traces, and dragged the
+dead horse to the side of the road. Scharfenstein brought around von
+Mitter's horse, took oft the furnishings, and backed him into the pole.
+
+Meanwhile the man lying by the water's edge showed signs of returning
+life. He turned his head cautiously. His enemies were a dozen yards away
+from him. Slowly he rolled over on his stomach, thence to his knees.
+They were paying no attention to him....
+
+"Ho, there! the prisoner!" cried von Mitter, tumbling out of the
+carriage. He tried to stand up, but a numbness seized his legs, and he
+sank to a sitting posture.
+
+Maurice and Scharfenstein turned too late. Johann had mounted on
+Scharfenstein's horse, and was flying away down the road. Maurice coolly
+leveled his revolver and sent two bullets after him. The second one
+caused Johann to straighten stiffly, then to sink; but he hung on to the
+horse.
+
+"Hurry!" cried Maurice; "I've hit him and we'll find him along the road
+somewhere."
+
+They lifted von Mitter into the carriage, wheeled it about, and
+Scharfenstein mounted the box. Maurice sprang into his saddle, and they
+clattered off toward the city.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. THE LAST STAND OF A BAD SERVANT
+
+The cuirassiers stationed in the guardroom of the royal palace walked
+gently on the tiling, when occasion required them to walk, and when they
+entered or left the room, they were particularly careful to avoid
+the chink of the spur or the clank of the saber. Although the royal
+bedchamber was many doors removed, the Captain had issued a warning
+against any unnecessary noise. A loud laugh, or the falling of a saber
+carelessly rested, drew upon the unlucky offender the scowling eyes of
+the commander, who reclined in front of the medieval fireplace, in
+which a solitary log burned, and brooded over past and present. The high
+revels in the guardroom were no more, the cuirassiers were no longer
+made up of the young nobles of the kingdom; they were now merely watch
+dogs.
+
+Twenty years ago the commander had come from Dresden as an instructor in
+arms, and after the first year had watched over the royal household, in
+the service of the late king and the king who lay dying. He had come of
+good family, but others had come off better, and had carried off court
+honors, though his post in early days had been envied by many. He was
+above all else a soldier, the embodiment of patience and integrity, and
+he scorned to murmur because fortune had passed over his head. As he
+sucked at his pipe, he recalled the days of Albrecht and his opera
+singers, the court scandals, and his own constant employment as
+messenger in the king's love intrigues.
+
+Albrecht had died a widower and childless, and with him had died the
+flower of court life. The courtiers and sycophants had flocked to the
+standard of the duke, and had remained there, primarily because Leopold
+of Osia promised a sedate and exemplary life. Sometimes the Captain
+shook his head, as if communing with some unpleasant thought. On each
+side of him sat a soldier, also smoking and ruminating.
+
+At the mess table a dozen or so whiled away the time at cards. The
+wavering lights of the candle and hearth cast warring shadows on the
+wall and floor, and the gun and saber racks twinkled. If the players
+spoke, it was in tones inaudible to the Captain's ears.
+
+"Our bread and butter," said the Captain softly, "are likely to take
+unto themselves the proverbial wings and fly away."
+
+No one replied. The Captain was a man who frequently spoke his thoughts
+aloud, and required no one to reply to his disjointed utterances.
+
+"A soldier of fortune," he went on, "pins his faith and zeal to
+standards which to-day rise and to-morrow fall. Unfortunately, he takes
+it at flood tide, which immediately begins to ebb."
+
+The men on either side of him nodded wisely.
+
+"The king can no longer speak. That is why the archbishop has dismissed
+the cabinet. While he could speak, his Majesty refused to listen to the
+downfall of his enemies. Why? Look to heaven; heaven only can answer.
+How many men of the native troops are quartered in these buildings? Not
+one--which is bad. Formerly they were in the majority. Extraordinary.
+His Majesty would have made friends with them, but the archbishop, an
+estimable man in his robes, practically ostracized them. Bad, very bad.
+Had we been comrades, there might be a different end.
+
+"Faugh! if one of us sticks his head into the city barracks a breath
+of ice is our reward. Kronau never attends the receptions. A little
+flattery, which costs nothing, and they would have been willing to die
+for his Majesty. Now--" He knocked his pipe on the firedog. "Now,
+they would not lift a finger. A soldier will forgive all things but
+premeditated neglect.
+
+"As for me, when the time comes I shall return to Dresden and die of old
+age. Maybe, though, I shan't. When his Majesty dies there is like to be
+a clash. The duchess is a clever woman, but she would make a balky wife;
+a capillary affection which runs in the family. Red hair in a man
+is useful; in a woman it is unmanageable." He refilled his pipe and
+motioned toward the tongs. The soldier nearest caught up a brand and
+held it out. The Captain laid his pipe against it and drew. "It's
+a dreary watch I have from ten till daylight, in his Majesty's
+antechamber, but he will trust no other man at that post." And with this
+he fell into silence.
+
+Some time passed. Twice the Captain pulled out his watch and looked at
+it. Shortly after nine o'clock the beat of hoofs came up the driveway,
+and the Captain turned his head toward the entrance and waited. A moment
+later the door opened and three men stood framed in the doorway. Two of
+them--one in civilian dress--were endeavoring to hold up a third between
+them. The central figure presented an alarming picture. His cuirass and
+white trousers were splashed with blood, and his head rolled from side
+to side, almost insensibly.
+
+"A thousand devils!" exclaimed the Captain at the sight of this
+unexpected tableau. He sprang up, toppling over his chair. "What's this?
+Von Mitter? Blood? Have those damned students--"
+
+"A brush on the lake road," interrupted Sharfenstein, breathlessly.
+"Help him over to a chair, Monsieur Carewe. That's it."
+
+"Have you a knife, Captain?" asked Maurice.
+
+The Captain whipped out his knife, locked it, and gave it to Maurice.
+"Riemer," he called to one of the cuirassiers, who were rising from the
+mess table, "bring out your box of instruments; and you, Scharfenstein,
+a basin of cold water. Quick!"
+
+Maurice knelt and deftly cut away the Lieutenant's boot. A pool of blood
+collected on the floor.
+
+"God save us!" cried the Captain, "his boot is full of blood." He
+turned to Scharfenstein, who was approaching with the basin. "What has
+happened, Max?"
+
+Scharfenstein briefly explained.
+
+"And Kopf?"
+
+"Got away, curse him!"
+
+"And the others?" with a lowering brow.
+
+"They all got away," adding an oath under his breath. Max set the basin
+on the floor.
+
+"Bad, very bad. Why didn't you shoot?"
+
+"He was afraid of hitting Mademoiselle Bachelier," Maurice interposed.
+
+Max threw him a grateful look.
+
+"Humph!" The Captain called his men around him. "Two of you--. But wait.
+Who's back of Kopf?"
+
+"Our distinguished Colonel," snapped Max, "who was this day relieved of
+his straps. A case of revenge, probably."
+
+"Beauvais! Ah, ah!" The Captain smiled grimly. He had always hated
+Beauvais, who had, for no obvious reason, passed him and grasped the
+coveted colonelcy, and because, curiously enough, the native troops had
+made an idol of him. "Beauvais? I am not surprised. An adventurer, with
+neither kith nor country."
+
+"He is Prince Walmoden," said Maurice, "and for some reason not known,
+the emperor has promised to recall him."
+
+This information caused the Captain to step back, and he muttered the
+name several times. "Austria...." A gloom settled on his face. "No
+matter. Prince or no prince, or had he one thousand emperors behind him,
+no matter. Four of you seek him and arrest him. If he offers resistance,
+knock him on the head, but arrest him. A traitor is without name,
+country or respect. His purpose... Never mind.
+
+"Four of you seek for Kopf. Look into Stuler's, in at the opera, and
+follow Kopf's woman home. I'll take it upon myself to telegraph the
+frontier to allow no one to cross on the pain of being shot. Pass the
+word to the officers in the stables. Hurry away before the archbishop
+hears of the matter. Away with you, and quietly. And one of you seek
+that blockhead of a coachman, who did not know enough to come back here
+and inform us. Beauvais, make him a prisoner, you are not to know
+why. As for Kopf, dead or alive--alive will be less convenient for all
+concerned. Off with you!"
+
+The guardroom was at once emptied, and the cuirassiers turned off toward
+the stables, where the main body of the troops was stationed.
+
+Riemer, who was both surgeon and soldier, probed the wound in von
+Miner's leg and extracted the bullet, which had lodged in the fleshy
+part of the calf. He applied cold water, lints and bandages. All the
+while von Mitter sat in the chair, his eyes shut and his lips closed
+tightly.
+
+"There!" said the surgeon, standing up, "that's better. The loss of
+blood is the worst part of it." Next he took a few stitches in the cut
+on the cheek and threw his cloak over the wounded man's knee. "He'll be
+all right in a day or so, though he'll limp. Carl?"
+
+"O, I'm sound enough," answered von Mitter, opening his eyes. "A little
+weak in the knees, that's all. I shouldn't have given in, only Kopf got
+away when we had him fair and fast. We found his horse wandering about
+the Frohngarten, but no sign of Johann. He's got it, though, square in
+the back."
+
+"I'm sure of it," said Maurice, who leaned over the back of the
+speaker's chair.
+
+The Captain eyed him inquiringly.
+
+"Pardon me," said Scharfenstein. "Captain, Monsieur Carewe, an American
+tourist, formerly of the United States cavalry. And a pretty shot, too,
+by the book! It would have gone badly with us but for him."
+
+"My thanks," said the Captain, with a jerky nod. "Max, come, give me the
+whole story."
+
+And Scharfenstein dropped into a chair and recounted in picturesque
+diction the adventure; how they had remained by the royal carriage till
+the nurse, recovering from her faint, had rushed out and told them of
+the abduction; and the long race on the south shore. While he listened
+the Captain smoked thoughtfully; and when the story was done, he rose
+and wagged his head.
+
+"Call it revenge," he said, "if it strikes you in that light. Monsieur
+Carewe, what is your opinion?"
+
+"It occurs to me," answered Maurice, rubbing the scratch the late
+Colonel's sword had left on his chin, "it occurs to me that the man
+played his hand a few days too late."
+
+"Which is to say?"
+
+"Well, I do not call it revenge," Maurice admitted, unwilling to venture
+any theory.
+
+"No more do I;" and the Captain began drumming on the mantel. "What say,
+Max; how would the illustrious Colonel look with the shadow of a crown
+on his head? He comes from Austria, who, to my thinking, is cognizant of
+all he does and has done."
+
+The answer was not spoken. The door, leading to the main palace through
+the kitchens, opened, and the Marshal, the princess, and the maid of
+honor came down the steps. The Captain, Max and the surgeon stood at
+salute. Maurice, however, drew back into the shadows at the side of
+the grate. The old soldier gazed down at the pale face of the young
+Lieutenant, and smiled kindly.
+
+"Even the best of soldiers make mistakes," he said; "even the best. No,"
+as von Mitter made an attempt to speak. "I've heard all about it, and
+from a most reliable source," nodding toward the anxious maid of
+honor. "Colonel," he addressed the Captain, whose eyes started at this
+appellation, "Colonel, you will report to me in the morning to assume
+your new duties. You have been a faithful Captain and a good soldier. I
+know your value, your name and your antecedents, which till now was more
+than I knew of your late predecessor. Von Mitter will take upon himself
+your duties as Captain of the household troop; and you, Scharfenstein,
+will hereafter take charge of her Royal Highness's carriage, and you may
+choose whom you will as your comrade."
+
+"I have always tried to do my duty," said von Mitter. He felt a small
+hand secretly press his.
+
+"And you have always succeeded, Captain," said a voice which made
+Maurice's foolish heart leap. "See, I am the first to give you your new
+rank. How you must suffer!"
+
+"God bless your Royal Highness!" murmured the fellow, at once racked
+with pain and happiness. "But I am not the one you must thank for this
+night's work."
+
+The Marshal peered at the silent figure beyond the fireplace. Maurice
+was compelled to stand forth. "Ah!" said the Marshal.
+
+"Yes," went on von Mitter, "but for him no one knows what the end might
+have been. And I, thinking him one of the abducting party coming up from
+the rear, shot at him."
+
+The princess took a step forward, anxiety widening her dark eyes; and
+the swift glance added to the fever in the recipient's veins.... How
+beautiful she was, and how far away! He laid his hand on the top of von
+Mitter's chair.
+
+"Monsieur Carewe," said the Marshal, "seems to have plenty of leisure
+time on his hands--fortunately for us. You were not hit?"
+
+"O, no," said Maurice, blushing. He had discerned an undercurrent of
+raillery in the Marshal's tones. "The ball came close to my ear, that
+was all. It is strange how that fellow got away. I am positive that I
+hit him."
+
+"We shall find him," said the Marshal, with a look at the
+newly-appointed Colonel which said: "Your straps hang in the balance."
+He rubbed his nose. "Well, is your Royal Highness satisfied that there
+is no danger?"
+
+"Yes, Marshal; but think, if he should have been killed! Ah, what does
+it all mean? What had this man against me, who have always been kind to
+him?"
+
+"We shall, with your Highness's permission," said the Marshal, "leave
+all questions to the future. Let us return to the archbishop, who
+is doubtless awaiting the news. Take good care of yourself, Captain.
+To-morrow, Colonel; good evening to you, Monsieur Carewe;" and the terse
+old soldier proceeded to the door and held it open for the women.
+
+"Good night, Messieurs," said her Highness. "I shall not forget. Thanks
+to you, Captain." One more glance, and she was gone. But this glance
+blossomed in one heart into a flower of hope.
+
+The Marshal, having closed the door behind the women, returned to the
+group before the fireplace. They watched him interestedly.
+
+"Colonel," he said, "make no effort to seek Beauvais. As for Kopf, that
+is different. But Beauvais--"
+
+"To let him go?" exclaimed the Colonel in dismay.
+
+"Aye, to let him go. We do not seek bears with birdshot, and that is all
+we have. He will leave the country."
+
+"And go to the duchy!"
+
+"So much the better; when the time comes, our case against him will
+be so much the stronger. Mind you, this is not from sentiment. I have
+none," glaring around to see if any dared refute this assertion. "It is
+policy, and Monseigneur concurs with me."
+
+"But I have sent men after him!" cried the Colonel, in keen
+disappointment.
+
+"Send men after them to rescind the order."
+
+"And if they should catch him?"
+
+"Let him go; that is my order. The servant will be sufficient for our
+needs. Monsieur Carewe, I rely on your discretion;" and the Marshal
+passed into the kitchens.
+
+The men looked at each other in silence. A moment later the Colonel
+dashed from the room, off to the stables.
+
+"Well, I'm off," said Maurice. The desire to tell what he knew was
+beginning to master him. It was too late now, he saw that. Besides, they
+might take it into their heads to detain him. He put on his hat. "Good
+night; and good luck to your leg, Captain."
+
+"Till to-morrow," said von Mitter, who had taken a fancy to the
+smooth-faced young American, who seemed at home in all places.
+
+"I am going away to-morrow," said Maurice, pressing the Lieutenant's
+hand. "I shall return in a day or so."
+
+He led his horse to the hotel stables, lit a fresh cigar and promenaded
+the terrace. "Some day," he mused, "perhaps I'll be able to do something
+for myself. To-morrow we'll take a look at Fitzgerald's affairs, like
+the good fairy we are. If the Colonel is there, so much the worse for
+one or the other of us." He laughed contentedly. "Beauvais took my
+warning and lit out, or his henchman would never have made a botch of
+the abduction. It is my opinion that Madame wanted a hostage, for it
+is impossible to conceive that the man made the attempt on his own
+responsibility. I shall return to the duchy in a semi-official character
+as an envoy extraordinary to look into the whereabouts of one Lord
+Fitzgerald. Devil take me, but I did make a mess of it when I slapped
+him on the shoulder that night." The princess had not addressed a word
+to him. Why?
+
+When the princess and her maid of honor had passed through the kitchens
+into the princess's boudoir, the maid suddenly caught her mistress's
+hand and imprinted a hasty kiss on it, to the latter's surprise and
+agitation. There was something in that kiss which came nearer to sincere
+affection than Mademoiselle Bachelier had ever shown before.
+
+"Camille?"
+
+"God bless your Highness!" whispered the girl, again pressing the cold
+hand to her lips. What had given rise to this new-born affection she
+herself could not say, but a sudden wave of pity rushed into her
+heart. Perhaps it was because she loved and was loved that caused this
+expansion of heart toward her mistress, who was likely never to love or
+beget love, who stood so lonely. Tears came into her eyes.
+
+"You are hysterical!" said the princess.
+
+"No; it is because--because--" She stopped and a blush suffused her face
+and temples.
+
+The princess took the face between her hands and gazed long and
+earnestly into it. "Have you discovered a belated pity in your heart
+for me? Or is it because you thought him wounded unto death, and he was
+not?"
+
+"It is both!" weeping.
+
+The princess put her arms around the maid. "And you weep for happiness?
+Let us weep together, then; only--I can not weep for happiness."
+
+To return to the flight of Kopf. As he dashed down the road he heard two
+reports. At the second he experienced a terrible burning blow under
+the right shoulder-blade, and immediately his arm became paralyzed.
+He coughed. With a supreme effort he managed to recover his balance.
+Already his collar-bone had been cracked by a bullet either from von
+Mitter or from Scharfenstein.
+
+"God's curse on them all!" he sobbed, pushing his knees into his horse;
+"God's curse!" He bit his lips; and when he drew his breath the pain
+which followed almost robbed him of his senses. Behind him the sound of
+hoofs came no nearer; he had a chance. He could not look back to see if
+he gained, however, as his neck was stiffening.
+
+"Curse him and his damned gold! He never warned me as he said he would."
+On he rode. The moon became obscured, and when it flashed again he could
+see it but indistinctly.... To reach the city, to reach Gertrude's, to
+give the horse a cut and send him adrift, this was his endeavor. But
+would he reach the city--alive? Was he dying? He could not see... Yet
+again he shut his jaws and drew on his entire strength. He was keeping
+in the saddle by will power alone. If the horse faltered he was lost. To
+Gertrude; she could use them. And after all he loved her. If he died she
+would be provided for.
+
+The first of the city lamps. He sobbed. Into this street he turned,
+into that, expecting each moment to be challenged, for the white saddle
+blanket of the cuirassiers stood out conspicuously. At last he had but
+a corner to turn. He stopped, slid from the saddle and gave the animal
+a cut across the face. The horse reared, then plunged forward at a wild
+gallop. Johann staggered along the street, fumbling in his pockets for
+his keys.
+
+Gertrude of the opera company was usually in the ballet. To-night she
+had left the stage after the first dance. She had complained of a
+severe headache, and as the manager knew her worth he had permitted
+her withdrawal from the corps. She lived off the Frohngarten, in an
+apartment on the second floor, over a cheap restaurant. She was bathing
+her temples in perfumed ammonia water, when she heard footsteps in the
+corridor, and later the rasp of a key in the lock. As the door opened
+she beheld a spectacle which caused her to scream.
+
+"Hush! Gertrude, I am dying.... Brandy! I must talk to you! Silence!"
+Johann tottered to a lounge and dropped on his side.
+
+The woman, still trembling with fright and terror, poured into her palm
+some of the pungent liquid with which she had been bathing her temples,
+and held it under his nose. It revived him. And in a few broken
+sentences he made known to her what had happened.
+
+"Gertrude, I am lost!" He breathed with difficulty. "I have lived like
+a rascal, and I die like one. But I have always loved you; I have always
+been true to you; I have never beaten nor robbed you." His eyes closed.
+
+"O God," she cried, "what shall I do? Johann, you must not die! We
+will leave the country together. Johann, you do not speak! Johann!"
+She kissed him, pressed him in her arms, regardless of the stains which
+these frantic fondlings gathered from his breast. "Johann!"
+
+"Rich," he said dreamily; "rich... and to die like a dog!"
+
+She left him and rushed to the sideboard, poured out a tumbler of
+brandy, and returned to his side. She raised his head, but he swallowed
+with effort.
+
+"In the lungs," he said. "God! how it burns! Rich; we are rich,
+Gertrude; a hundred thousand crowns.... And I am dying!... What a
+failure! Curse them all; they never offered to lend a hand unless it led
+toward hell! Gertrude... I must tell you. Here; here, put your hand in
+this pocket; yes. Draw them out... A hundred thousand crowns!"
+
+The woman shuddered. Her hand and what it held were wet with blood.
+
+"Hide them!" And Johann fainted away for the second time. When he came
+to his senses, several minutes had passed. Quickly, with what remaining
+strength he had, he unfolded his plan.
+
+And her one idea was to save him. She drenched her handkerchief with the
+ammonia, and bade him hold it to his nose, while she fetched a basin of
+water and a sponge. Tenderly she drew back his coat and washed the blood
+from his throat and lips, and moistened his hair.
+
+"Listen!" he cried suddenly, rising on his elbow. "It is they! They
+have found me! Quick! to the roof!" He struggled to his feet, with that
+strength which imparts itself to dying men, super-human while it lasts.
+He threw one arm around her neck. "Help me!"
+
+And thus they gained the hall, mounted the flight to the roof, he
+groaning and urging, she sobbing, hysterical, and frenzied. She climbed
+the ladder with him, threw back the trap, and helped him on the roof.
+
+"Now leave me!" he said, kissing her hand.
+
+She gave him her lips, and went down to her rooms, and waited and
+waited. This agony of suspense lasted a quarter of an hour, when again
+came the clatter of hoofs. Would this, too, prove a false alarm? She
+held her hand to her ear. If he were dying... They had stopped; they
+were mounting the stairs; O God, they were beating on the door!
+
+"Open!" cried a voice without; "open in the king's name!"
+
+She gasped, but words would not come. She clenched her hands until the
+nails sank into the flesh.
+
+"Open, Madame, or down comes the door."
+
+The actress in her came to the rescue. The calm of despair took
+possession of her.
+
+"In a moment, Messieurs," she said. Her voice was without agitation. She
+opened the door and the cuirassiers pushed past her. "In heaven's name,
+Messieurs, what does this mean?"
+
+"We want Johann Kopf," was the answer, "and we have it from good
+authority that he is here. Do not interfere with us; you are in no wise
+connected with the affair."
+
+"He is not here," she replied. She wondered at herself, her tones were
+so even, her mind was so clear.
+
+One of the cuirassiers caught up her gown. "What's this, Madame?" he
+demanded, pointing to the dark wet stains; "and this?" to her hands,
+"and this?" to the spots on the carpet, the basin and the sponge. "To
+the roof, men; he has gone by the roof! Up with you!"
+
+The ballet dancer held forth her hands in supplication; life forsook her
+limbs; she sank.
+
+The cuirassiers rushed to the roof.... When they came down it was slowly
+and carefully. What they had found on the roof was of no use to them.
+They laid the inanimate thing on the lounge, and frowned. One of the
+cuirassiers lifted the ballet dancer and carried her into her bed-room,
+and laid her on the bed. He had not the heart to revive her. Death
+softens all angers; even an enemy is no longer such when dead. And
+Johann Kopf was dead.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. A COURT FETE AT THE RED CHATEAU
+
+At eight o'clock of the following evening, that is to say, the
+nineteenth of September, Maurice mounted the Thalian pass and left the
+kingdom in the valley behind him. He was weary, dusty, lame and out of
+humor; besides, he had a new weight on his conscience. The night before
+he had taken the life of a man. True, this had happened before, but
+always in warfare. He had killed in a moment of rage and chagrin a
+poor devil who was at most only a puppet. There was small credit in the
+performance. However, the rascal would have suffered death in any event,
+his act being one of high treason.
+
+In the long ride he had made up his mind to lock away forever the silly
+dream, the tender, futile, silly dream. All men die with secrets locked
+in their hearts; thus he, too, would die. His fancy leaped across the
+chasm of intervening years to the day of his death, and the thought
+was a happy one! He smiled sadly, as young men smile when they pity
+themselves. He knew that he would never get over it--in a day. But
+to-morrow, or to-morrow's to-morrow..
+
+He took the pass's decline; the duchy spread away toward the south. A
+quarter of a mile below him he saw the barrack and the customs office
+which belonged to Madame the duchess. The corporal inspected him and
+his papers, spoke lowly to the customs inspector, who returned to his
+office.
+
+"It is all right, Monsieur Carewe," said the corporal; "I ought to
+recognize the horse a mile away. You will arrive just in time."
+
+"Just in time for what?"
+
+"Ah, true. Her Highness gives a grand ball at the chateau to-night. The
+court has arrived from Brunnstadt. Some will reside at the chateau, some
+at General Duckwitz's, others at the Countess Herzberg's."
+
+"Has the duchess arrived at last, then?" was the cynical inquiry.
+
+"She will arrive this evening," answered the corporal, grinning. "A
+pleasant journey to you."
+
+Maurice proceeded. "And that blockhead of an Englishman has not tumbled
+yet! The court here? A grand ball? What else can it mean but that Madame
+is celebrating a victory to come? If the archbishop has those consols,
+she will wage war; and this is the prelude." He jogged along. He had
+accomplished a third of the remaining distance, when he was challenged.
+The sentry came forward and scrutinized the rider.
+
+"O, it is Monsieur Carewe!" he cried in delighted tones. He touched his
+cap and fell back into the shadows.
+
+A mile farther, and the great chateau, scintillating with lights, loomed
+up against the yellow sky. He felt a thrill of excitement. Doubtless
+there would be some bright passages before the night drew to a close. He
+would make furious love to the pretty countess; it would be something in
+the way of relaxation. How would they greet him? What would be Madame's
+future plans in regard to Fitzgerald? How would she get him out of the
+way, now that he had served her purpose? He laughed.
+
+"The future promises much," he said, half aloud. "I am really glad that
+I came back."
+
+"Halt!"
+
+Maurice drew up. A sentry stepped out into the road.
+
+"O, it is Monsieur Carewe!" he cried. With a short laugh he disappeared.
+
+"Hang me," grumbled Maurice as he went on, "these fellows have
+remarkable memories. I can't recollect any of them." He was mystified.
+
+Shortly he came upon the patrol. The leader ordered him to dismount, an
+order be obeyed willingly, for he was longing to stand again. He shook
+his legs, while the leader struck a match.
+
+"Why, it is Monsieur Carewe!" he cried. "Good! We are coming out to meet
+you. This is a pleasure indeed."
+
+Maurice gazed keenly into the speaker's face, and to his surprise beheld
+the baron whose arm he had broken a fortnight since. He climbed on his
+horse again.
+
+"I am glad you deem it a pleasure, baron," he said dryly. "From what you
+imply, I should judge that you were expecting me."
+
+"Nothing less! Your departure from Bleiberg was known to us as early as
+two o'clock this after-noon," answered the baron. "Permit us to escort
+you to the chateau before the ladies see you. 'Tis a gala night; we are
+all in our best bib and tucker, as the English say. We believed at one
+time that you were not going to honor us with a second visit. Now
+to dress, both of us; at ten Madame the duchess arrives with General
+Duckwitz and Colonel Mollendorf, who is no relation to the late minister
+of police in Bleiberg."
+
+Underneath all this Maurice discerned a shade of mockery, and it
+disturbed him.
+
+"First, I should like to know--" he began.
+
+"Later, later!" cried the baron. "The gates are but a dozen rods away.
+To your room first; the rest will follow."
+
+"The only clothes I have with me are on my back," said Maurice.
+
+"We shall arrange that. Your guard-hussar uniform has been reserved for
+you, at the suggestion of the Colonel."
+
+And Maurice grew more and more disturbed.
+
+"Were they courteous to you on the road?"
+
+"Yes. But--"
+
+"Patience! Here we are at the rear gates."
+
+Maurice found it impossible to draw back; three troopers blocked the
+rear, the baron and another rode at his sides, and four more were in
+advance. The rear gates swung open, and the little troop passed into
+the chateau confines. Maurice snatched a glimpse of the front lawns
+and terraces. The trees and walls were hung with Chinese lanterns;
+gay uniforms and shimmering gowns flitted across his vision. Somewhere
+within the chateau an orchestra was playing the overture from "Linda
+di Chamounix." Indeed, with all these brave officers, old men in black
+bedecked with ribbons, handsome women in a brilliant sparkle of jewels,
+it had the semblance of a gay court. It was altogether a different scene
+from that which was called the court of Bleiberg. There was no restraint
+here; all was laughter, music, dancing, and wines. The women were young,
+the men were young; old age stood at one side and looked on. And the
+charming Voiture-verse of a countess, Maurice was determined to seek
+her first of all. He vaguely wondered how Fitzgerald would carry himself
+throughout the ordeal.
+
+The troopers dismounted in the courtyard.
+
+"I'm a trifle too stiff to dance," Maurice innocently acknowledged.
+
+The baron laughed. "You will have to take luck with me in the
+stable-barrack; the chateau is filled. The armory has been turned into a
+ballroom, and the guard out of it."
+
+"Lead on!" said Maurice.
+
+At the entrance to the guardroom, which occupied the left wing of the
+stables, stood a Lieutenant of the hussars.
+
+"This is Monsieur Carewe," said the baron, "who will occupy a corner in
+the guardroom."
+
+"Ah! Monsieur Carewe," waving his hand cavalierly; "happy to see you
+again."
+
+Maurice was growing weary of his name.
+
+"Enter," said the baron, opening the door.
+
+Maurice entered, but not without suspicion. However, he was in a hurry
+to mingle with the gay assembly in the chateau. But that body was doomed
+to proceed without the honor or the knowledge of his distinguished
+presence. Several troopers were lounging about. At the sight of the
+baron they rose.
+
+"Messieurs," he said, "this is Monsieur Carewe, who was expected."
+
+"Glad to see you!" they sang out in chorus. They bowed ironically.
+
+Maurice gazed toward the door. As he did so four pairs of arms enveloped
+him, and before he could offer the slightest resistance, he was bound
+hand and foot, a scarf was tied over his mouth, and he was pushed most
+disrespectfully into a chair. The baron's mouth was twisted out of
+shape, and the troopers were smiling.
+
+"My faith! but this is the drollest affair I ever was in;" and the baron
+sat on the edge of the table and held his sides. "Monsieur Carewe! Ha!
+ha! You are a little too stiff to dance, eh? Shall I tender your excuses
+to the ladies? Ass! did you dream for a moment that such canaille as
+you, might show your countenance to any save the scullery maids? Too
+stiff to dance! Ye gods, but that was rich! And you had the audacity
+to return here! I must go; the thing is killing me." He slipped off the
+table, red in the face and choking. "The telegraph has its uses; it came
+ahead of you. We trembled for fear you would not come! Men, guard him
+as your lives, while I report to Madame, I dare say she will make it
+droller in the telling."
+
+He stepped to the door, turned, looking into the prisoner's glaring
+eyes; he doubled up again. "We are quits; I forgive you the broken
+arm; this laugh will repay me. How Madame the countess will laugh! And
+Duckwitz--the General will die of apoplexy! O, but you are a sorry ass;
+and how neatly we have clipped your ears!" And into the corridor he
+went, still laughing, heartily and joyously, as if what had taken place
+was one of the finest jests in the world.
+
+Maurice, white and furious, was positive that he never would laugh
+again. And the most painful thought was that his honesty had brought him
+to this pass--or, was it his curiosity?
+
+* * * * *
+
+Fitzgerald stood alone in the library. The music of a Strauss waltz came
+indistinctly to him. He was troubled, and the speech of it lay in his
+eyes. From time to time he drummed on the window sill, and followed with
+his gaze the shadowy forms on the lawns. He was not a part of this fairy
+scene. He was out of place. So many young and beautiful women eyeing him
+curiously confused him. In every glance he innocently read his disgrace.
+
+At Madame's request he had dressed himself in the uniform of a
+Lieutenant-Colonel, which showed how deeply he was in the toils.
+Though it emphasized the elegant proportions of his figure, it sat
+uncomfortably upon him. His vanity was not equal to his sense of guilt.
+The uniform was a livery of dishonor. He could not distort it into a
+virtue, try as he would. He lacked that cunning artifice which a man of
+the world possesses, that of winning over to the right a misdeed.
+
+And Carewe, on whose honesty he would have staked his life, Carewe had
+betrayed him. Why, he could not conceive. He saw how frail his house
+of love was. A breath and it was gone. What he had until to-day deemed
+special favors were favors common to all these military dandies. They,
+too, could kiss Madame's hand, and he could do no more. And yet she held
+him. Did she love him? He could not tell. All he knew was that it was
+impossible not to love her. And to-night he witnessed the culmination
+of the woman beautiful, and it dazzled him, filled him with fears and
+oppressions.... To bind her hand and foot, to carry her by force to the
+altar, if need; to call her his in spite of all.
+
+If she were playing with him, making a ball of his heart and her fancy
+a cup, she knew not of the slumbering lion within. He himself was but
+dimly conscious of it. Princess? That did not matter. Since that morning
+the veil had fallen from his eyes, but he had said nothing; he was
+waiting for her to speak. Would she laugh at him? No, no! The knowledge
+that had come to him had transformed wax into iron. Princess? She was
+the woman who had promised to be his wife.
+
+Only two candles burned on the mantel-piece. The library was a room
+apart from the festivities. A soft, rose-colored darkness pervaded the
+room. Presently a darker shadow tiptoed over the threshold. He turned,
+and the shadow approached. Madame's gray eyes, full of lambent fires,
+looked into his own.
+
+"I was seeking you," she said. The jewels in her hair threw a kind of
+halo above her head.
+
+"Have I the happiness to be necessary to you?" he asked.
+
+"You have not been enjoying yourself."
+
+"No, Madame; my conscience is, unhappily, too green." He turned to the
+window again for fear he would lose control of himself.
+
+"I have a confession to make to you," she said humbly. How broad his
+shoulders were, was her thought.
+
+"It can not concern me," he replied.
+
+"How?"
+
+"There is only one confession which I care to hear. You made it once,
+though you are not willing to repeat it. But I have your word, Sylvia;
+I am content. Not all the world could make me believe that you would
+willingly retract that word."
+
+Her name, for the first time coming from his lips, caused her to start.
+She sent him a penetrating glance, but it broke on a face immobile as
+marble.
+
+"I do not recollect granting you permission to use my given name," she
+said.
+
+"O, that was before the world. But alone, alone as we are, you and I,
+it is different." The smile which accompanied these words was frankness
+itself, but it did not deceive Madame, who read his eyes too well. "Ah,
+but the crumbs you give this love of mine are so few!" "You are the only
+man in the world permitted to avow love to me. You have kissed my hand."
+
+"A privilege which seems extended to all."
+
+Madame colored, but there was not light enough for him to perceive it.
+
+"The hand you kissed is the hand of the woman; others kiss it to pay
+homage. Monsieur, forgive me for having deceived you, you were so easy
+to deceive." His eyes met hers steadily.
+
+"I am not Madame simply. I am Stephonia Sylvia Auersperg; the name I
+assumed was my mother's." His lack of surprise alarmed her.
+
+"I am well aware of that," he said. "You are the duchess."
+
+Something in his tone warned her of a crisis, and she put forth her
+cunning to avert it. "And, you--you will not love me less?" her voice
+vibrant as the string of a viol. "I am a princess, but yet a woman. In
+me there are two, the woman and the princess. The princess is proud and
+ambitious; to gain her ends she stops at nothing. As a princess she may
+stoop to trickery and deceit, and step back untouched. But the woman-ah,
+well; for this fortnight I have been most of all the woman."
+
+"And all this to me-is a preamble to my dismissal, since my promise
+remains unfulfilled? Madame, do not think that because fate has willed
+that my promise should become void, that my conscience acquits me of
+dishonor. For love of you I have thrown honor to the winds. But do I
+regret it? No. For I am mad, and being mad, I am not capable of reason.
+I have broken all those ties which bind a man's respect to himself.
+I have burned all bridges, but I laugh at that. It is only with the
+knowledge that your love is mine that I can hold high my head.
+
+"As the princess in you is proud, so is the man in me. A princess? That
+is nothing; I love you. Were you the empress of all the Russias, the
+most unapproachable woman in the world, I should not hesitate to profess
+my love, to find some means of declaring it to you. I love you. To what
+further depths can I fall to prove it?" Again he sought the window, and
+leaned heavily on the sill. He waited, as a man waits for an expected
+blow.
+
+As she listened a delicious sensation swept through her heart, a
+sensation elusive and intangible. She surrendered without question. At
+this moment the Eve in her evaded all questions. Here was a man. The
+mood which seized her was as novel as this love which asked nothing but
+love, and the willingness to pay any price; and the desire to test both
+mood and love to their full strength was irresistible. She was loved for
+herself alone; hitherto men had loved the woman less and the princess
+more. To surrender to both mood and love, if only for an hour or a day,
+to see to what length this man would go at a sign from her.
+
+He was almost her equal in birth; his house was nearly if not quite as
+old and honored as her own; in his world he stood as high as she stood
+in hers. She had never committed an indiscretion; passion had never
+swayed her; until now she had lived by calculation. As she looked at
+him, she knew that in all her wide demesne no soldier could stand before
+him and look straight into his eyes. So deep and honest a book it was,
+so easily readable, that she must turn to its final pages. Love him? No.
+Be his wife? No. She recognized that it was the feline instinct to play
+which dominated her. Consequences? Therein lay the charm of it.
+
+"Patience, Monsieur," she said. "Did I promise to be your wife? Did
+I say that I loved you? _Eh, bien_, the woman, not the princess, made
+those vows. I am mistress not only of my duchy, but of my heart." She
+ceased and regarded him with watchful eyes. He did not turn. "Look at
+me, John!" The voice was of such winning sweetness that St. Anthony
+himself, had he heard it, must have turned. "Look at me and see if I am
+more a princess than a woman."
+
+He wheeled swiftly. She was leaning toward him, her face was upturned.
+No jewel in her hair was half so lustrous as her eyes. From the threaded
+ruddy ore of her hair rose a perfume like the fabulous myrrhs of
+Olympus. Her lips were a cup of wine, and her eyes bade him drink,
+and the taste of that wine haunted him as long as he lived. He made as
+though to drain the cup, but Madame pushed down his arms, uttered a low,
+puzzled laugh, and vanished from the room. He was lost! He knew it; yet
+he did not care. He threw out his arms, dropped them, and settled his
+shoulders. A smile, a warm, contented smile, came into his face and
+dwelt there. For another such kiss he would have bartered eternity.
+
+And Madame? Who can say?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. IN WHICH MAURICE RECURS TO OFFENBACH
+
+Midnight; the music had ceased, and the yellow and scarlet lanterns had
+been plucked from the autumnal hangings. The laughing, smiling, dancing
+women, like so many Cinderellas, had disappeared, and with them the
+sparkle of jewels; and the gallant officers had ridden away to the
+jingle of bit and spur. Throughout the courtly revel all faces had
+revealed, besides the happiness and lightness of spirit, a suppressed
+eagerness for something yet to come, an event surpassing any they had
+yet known.
+
+Promptly at midnight Madame herself had dropped the curtains on the gay
+scene because she had urgent need of all her military household at dawn,
+when a picture, far different from that which had just been painted, was
+to be limned on the broad canvas of her dreams. Darkness and quiet had
+fallen on the castle, and the gray moon film lay on terrace and turret
+and tile.
+
+In the guardroom, Maurice, his hands and feet still in pressing cords,
+dozed in his chair. He had ceased to combat drowsiness. He was worn out
+with his long ride, together with the chase of the night before; and
+since a trooper had relieved his mouth of the scarf so that he could
+breathe, he cared not what the future held, if only he might sleep.
+It took him a long time to arrive at the angle of comfort; this
+accomplished, he drifted into smooth waters. The troopers who
+constituted his guard played cards at a long table, in the center of
+which were stuck half a dozen bayonets, which served as candlesticks.
+They laughed loudly, thumped the board, and sometimes sang. No one
+bothered himself about the prisoner, who might have slept till the crack
+of doom, as far as they were concerned.
+
+Shortly before the new hour struck, the door opened and shut. A trooper
+shook the sleeper by the sleeve. Maurice awoke with a start and gazed
+about, blinking his eyes. Before him he discovered Madame the duchess,
+Fitzgerald and Mollendorf, behind whom stood the Voiture-verse of a
+countess. The languor forsook him and he pulled himself together and
+sat as upright as his bonds would permit him. Something interesting was
+about to take place.
+
+Madame made a gesture which the troopers comprehended, and they
+departed. Fitzgerald, with gloomy eyes, folded his arms across his
+breast, and with one hand curled and uncurled the drooping ends of his
+mustache; the Colonel frowned and rubbed the gray bristles on his upper
+lip; the countess twisted and untwisted her handkerchief; Madame alone
+evinced no agitation, unless the perpendicular line above her nose could
+have been a sign of such. This lengthened and deepened as her glance met
+the prisoner's.
+
+He eyed them all with an indifference which was tinctured with contempt
+and amusement.
+
+"Well, Monsieur Carewe," said Madame, coldly, "what have you to say?"
+
+"A number of things, Madame," he answered, in a tone which bordered the
+insolent; "only they would not be quite proper for you to hear."
+
+The Colonel's hand slid from his lip over his mouth; he shuffled his
+feet and stared at the bayonets and the grease spots on the table.
+
+"Carewe," said Fitzgerald, endeavoring to speak calmly, "you have broken
+your word to me as a gentleman and you have lied to me."
+
+The reply was an expressive monosyllable, "O!"
+
+"Do you deny it?" demanded the Englishman.
+
+"Deny what?" asked Maurice.
+
+"The archbishop," said Madame, "assumed the aggressive last night. To be
+aggressive one must possess strength. Monsieur, how much did he pay for
+those consols? Come, tell me; was he liberal? It is evident that you are
+not a man of business. I should have been willing to pay as much as
+a hundred thousand crowns. Come; acknowledge that you have made a bad
+stroke." She bent her head to one side, and a derisive smile lifted the
+corners of her lips.
+
+A dull red flooded the prisoner's cheeks. "I do not understand you."
+
+"You lie!" Fitzgerald stepped closer and his hands closed menacingly.
+
+"Thank you," said Maurice, "thank you. But why not complete the
+melodrama by striking, since you have doubled your fists?"
+
+Fitzgerald glared at him.
+
+"Monsieur," interposed the countess, "do not forget that you are a
+gentleman; Monsieur Carewe's hands are tied."
+
+"Unfortunately," observed Maurice.
+
+Madame looked curiously at the countess, while Fitzgerald drew back to
+the table and rested on it.
+
+"I can not comprehend how you dared return," Madame resumed. "One who
+watches over my affairs has informed me of your dishonorable act."
+
+"What do you call a dishonorable act?" Maurice inquired quietly.
+
+"One who breaks his sacred promise!" quickly.
+
+The prisoner laughed maliciously. Madame had answered the question as he
+hoped she would. "Chickens come home to roost. What do you say to that,
+my lord?" to the Englishman.
+
+This time it was not the prisoner's cheeks which reddened. Even Madame
+was forced to look away, for if this reply touched the Englishman it
+certainly touched her as deeply. Incidentally, she was asking herself
+why she had permitted the Englishman to possess her lips, hers, which no
+man save her father had ever possessed before. A kiss, that was all it
+had been, yet the memory of it was persistent, annoying, embarrassing.
+In the spirit of play--a spirit whose origin mystified her--she had
+given the man something which she never could regain, a particle of her
+pride.
+
+Besides, this was not all; she had in that moment given up her right to
+laugh at him when the time came; now she would not be able to laugh. She
+regretted the folly, and bit her lip at the thought of it. Consequences
+she had laughed at; now their possibilities disturbed her. She had
+been guilty of an indiscretion. The fact that the Englishman had ruined
+himself at her beck did not enter her mind. The hour for that had not
+yet arrived.
+
+Seeing that his neat barb had left them all without answer, Maurice
+said: "Doubtless the informant who watches over your interests and
+various other interests of which you have no inkling, was the late
+Colonel Beauvais? For my part, I wish it was the late Beauvais in the
+sense in which we refer to the departed ones. But let us give him
+his true name--Prince Konrad, the last of the Walmodens, a cashiered
+gamester."
+
+Only Fitzgerald showed any surprise. Maurice once saw that the others
+were in the secret. They knew the Colonel. Did they know why he was
+in Bleiberg? Let them find it out for themselves. He would not lift a
+finger to aid them. He leaned back and yawned.
+
+"Pardon me," he said, with mock politeness, "but my hands are tied, and
+the truth is, I am sleepy."
+
+"Count," said Madame, "release him. He will be too well guarded to fear
+his escaping."
+
+The Colonel performed this service with alacrity. He honestly admired
+the young fellow who so seldom lost his temper. Besides, he had a
+sneaking idea that the lad was being unjustly accused.
+
+Maurice got up and stretched himself. He rubbed his wrists, then sat
+down and waited for the comedy to proceed.
+
+"So you confess," said Madame, "that you sold the consols to the
+archbishop?"
+
+"I, confess?" Maurice screwed up his lips and began to whistle softly:
+
+"Voici le sabre de mon Pere."
+
+"You deny, then?" Madame was fast losing patience, a grave mistake when
+one is dealing with a banterer.
+
+Maurice changed the tune:
+
+"J'aime les militaires, Leur uniforme coquet, Leur moustache et leur
+plumet--"
+
+"Answer!" with a stamp of the foot.
+
+"Je sais ce que je voudrais, Je voudrais etre cantiniere!"...
+
+"Monsieur," said the pretty countess, after a furtive glance at Madame's
+stormy eyes, "do you deny?"
+
+The whistle ceased. "Madame, to you I shall say that I neither deny nor
+affirm. The affair is altogether too ridiculous to treat seriously. I
+have nothing to say." The whistle picked up the thread again.
+
+Doubt began to stir in the eyes of the Englishman. He looked at Madame
+with a kind of indecision, to find that she was glancing covertly at
+him. His gaze finally rested on Maurice, who had crossed his legs and
+was keeping time to the music with his foot. Indeed, these were not the
+violent protestations of innocence he had looked for. This demeanor was
+not at all in accord with his expectations. Now that he had possessed
+Madame's lips (though she might never possess the consols), Maurice did
+not appear so guilty.
+
+"Carewe," he said, "you have deceived me from the start."
+
+"Ah! c'est un fameux regiment, Le regiment de la Grande Duchesse!"
+
+"You knew that Madame was her Highness," went on the Englishman, "and
+yet you kept that a secret from me. Can you blame me if I doubt you in
+other respects?"
+
+"Sonnez donc la trompette, Et battez les tambours!"
+
+And the warbler nodded significantly at Madame, whose frown grew still
+darker.
+
+"Eh! Monsieur," cried the Colonel, with a protesting hand, "you are out
+of tune!"
+
+"I should like to know why you returned here," said Madame. "Either you
+have some plan, or your audacity has no bounds."
+
+The whistle stopped again. "Madame, for once we agree. I, too, should
+like to know why I returned here."
+
+"Carewe," said Fitzgerald, "if you will give me your word--"
+
+"Do not waste your breath, Monsieur," interrupted Madame.
+
+"Will you give me your word?" persisted Fitzgerald, refusing to see the
+warning in Madame's eyes.
+
+"I will give you nothing, my lord; nothing. I have said that I will
+answer neither one way nor the other. The accusation is too absurd. Now,
+Madame, what is your pleasure in regard to my disposition?"
+
+"You are to be locked up, Monsieur," tartly. "You are too inquisitive to
+remain at large."
+
+"My confinement will be of short duration," confidently.
+
+"It rests with my pleasure alone."
+
+"Pardon me if I contradict your Highness. I returned here incidentally
+as a representative of the British ambassador in Vienna; I volunteered
+this office at the request of my own minister."
+
+A shade of consternation came into the faces of his audience.
+
+"If nothing is heard of me within two days, an investigation will ensue.
+It is very droll, but I am here to inquire into the whereabouts of one
+Lord Fitzgerald, who has disappeared. Telegrams to the four ends of
+the world have brought no news of his present residence. The archbishop
+instituted the latter inquiries, because it was urgent and necessary he
+should know."
+
+Fitzgerald became enveloped in gloom.
+
+"And your credentials, Monsieur?" said the duchess. "You have them, I
+presume?"
+
+"I came as a private gentleman; a telegram to my minister in Vienna will
+bring indorsement."
+
+"Ah! Then you shall be locked up. I can not accord you recognition;
+without the essential representations, I see nothing in you but
+an impertinent meddler. To-morrow evening you shall be conveyed to
+Brunnstadt, where you will reside for some time, I can assure you.
+Perhaps on your head will rest the blood of many gallant gentlemen; for
+within another twenty-four hours I shall declare war against Leopold.
+This will be the consequence of your disloyalty to your word." And she
+moved toward the door, the others imitating her. Fitzgerald, more than
+any one else, desired to get away.
+
+And one by one they vanished. Once the countess turned and threw
+Maurice a glance which mystified him; it was half curtained with tears.
+Presently he was alone. His eye grasped every object. There was not a
+weapon in sight; only the bayonets on the table, and he could scarcely
+hope to escape by use of one of these. A carafe of water stood on the
+table. He went to it and half emptied it. His back was toward the door.
+Suddenly it opened. He wheeled, expecting to see the troopers. His
+surprise was great. Beauvais was leaning against the door, a half
+humorous smile on his lips. The tableau lasted several minutes.
+
+"Well," said Beauvais, "you do not seem very glad to see me."
+
+Maurice remained silent, and continued to gaze at his enemy over the
+tops of the upturned bayonets.
+
+"You are, as I said before, a very young man."
+
+"I killed a puppet of yours last night," replied Maurice, with a
+peculiar grimness.
+
+"Eh? So it was you? However, Kopf knew too much; he is dead, thanks to
+your service. After all, it was a stroke of war; the princess, whose
+little rose you have, was to have been a hostage."
+
+"If she had refused to be a wife," Maurice replied.
+
+Beauvais curled his mustache.
+
+"I know a good deal more than Kopf."
+
+"You do, certainly; but you are at a convenient nearness. What you know
+will be of no use to you. Let us sit down."
+
+"I prefer to stand. The honor you do me is too delicate."
+
+"O, you may have no fear."
+
+"I have none--so long as my back isn't turned toward you."
+
+Beauvais passed over this. "You are a very good blade; you handle a
+sword well. That is a compliment, considering that I am held as the
+first blade in the kingdom. It was only to-day I learned that formerly
+you had been a cavalryman in America. You have the making of a soldier."
+
+Maurice bowed, his hand resting near one of the bayonets.
+
+"You are also a soldier of fortune-like myself. You made a good stroke
+with the archbishop. You hoodwinked us all."
+
+Maurice did not reply.
+
+"Very well; we shall not dwell on it. You are discreet."
+
+Maurice saw that Beauvais was speaking in good faith.
+
+"You have something to say; come to it at once, for it is trying to
+watch you so closely."
+
+"I will give you--" He hesitated and scratched his chin. "I will give you
+ten thousand crowns as the price of your silence in regard to the South
+American affair."
+
+A sardonic laugh greeted this proposal. "I did not know that you were so
+cheap. But it is too late."
+
+"Too late?"
+
+"Doubtless, since by this time the authorities are in possession of the
+interesting facts."
+
+"I beg to differ from you."
+
+"Do as you please," said Maurice, triumphantly. "I sent an account of
+your former exploits both to my own government and to the one which you
+so treacherously betrayed. One or the other will not fail to reach."
+
+"I am perfectly well aware of that," Beauvais smiled. He reached into
+a pocket, and for a moment Maurice expected to see a pistol come forth.
+But he was needlessly alarmed. Beauvais extracted two envelopes from the
+pocket and sailed them through the intervening space. They fell on
+the table. "Put not your trust in hotel clerks," was the sententious
+observation. "At least, till you have discovered that no one else
+employs them. I am well served. The clerk was told to intercept your
+outgoing post; and there is the evidence. Ten thousand crowns and a safe
+conduct."
+
+Maurice picked up the letters mechanically. They were his; the stamps
+were not canceled, but the flaps were slit. He turned them this way and
+that, bewildered. He was convinced that he could in no way cope with
+this man of curious industries, this man who seemed to have a key for
+every lock, and whom nothing escaped. And the wise old Marshal had
+permitted him to leave the kingdom without let or hindrance. Perhaps the
+Marshal understood that Beauvais was a sort of powder train, and that
+the farther he was away from the mine the better for all concerned.
+
+"You are a great rascal," Maurice said finally.
+
+"We will waive that point. The matter at present is, how much will it
+take to buy your silence for the future?"
+
+"And I am sorry I did not kill you when I had the chance," continued
+Maurice, as if following a train of thought.
+
+"We never realize how great the opportunity is till it has passed beyond
+our reach. Well, how much?"
+
+"I am not in need of money."
+
+"To be sure; I forgot. But the archbishop could not have given you a
+competence for life."
+
+"I choked a few facts out of Kopf," said Maurice. "You will wear no
+crown--that is, earthly."
+
+"And your heavenly one is near at hand," rejoined Beauvais.
+
+Maurice absently fingered a bayonet.
+
+"You refuse this conciliation on my part?" asked Beauvais.
+
+"Positively."
+
+"Well, then, if anything happens to you, you will have only yourself to
+blame. I will leave you to digest that suggestion. Your life hangs in
+the balance. I will give you till to-morrow morning to make up your
+mind."
+
+"Go to the devil!"
+
+"In that, I shall offer you the precedence." And Beauvais backed out;
+backed out because Maurice had wrenched loose one of the bayonets.
+
+Maurice flung the bayonet across the room, went back to his chair, and
+tore his ill-fated letters into ribbons. When this was done he stared
+moodily at the impromptu candlesticks, and tried to conceive the manner
+in which Beauvais's threat would materialize.
+
+When the troops returned to their watch, they found the prisoner in a
+recumbent position, staring at the cracks in the floor, oblivious to
+all else save his thoughts, which were by no means charitable or humane.
+They resumed their game of cards. At length Maurice fell into a light
+slumber. The next time he opened his eyes it was because of a peculiar
+jar, which continued; a familiar, monotonous jar, such as the tread of
+feet on the earth creates. Tramp, tramp, tramp; it was a large body
+of men on the march. Soon this was followed by a lighter and
+noisier sound--cavalry. Finally, there came the rumbling of heavy
+metal--artillery. More than an hour passed before these varying sounds
+grew indistinct.
+
+Maurice was now fully awake. An army had passed the Red Chateau.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. A GAME OF POKER AND THE STAKES
+
+The next morning Beauvais came for his answer. It was not the answer he
+had expected.
+
+"So be it," he replied. "Your government had better appoint your
+successor at once. Good morning."
+
+"You will die suddenly some day," said Maurice.
+
+Beauvais shrugged, and departed.
+
+It was a dreary long day for the prisoner, who saw no one but his
+jailers. He wondered what time they would start for Brunnstadt. He had
+never seen Brunnstadt. He hoped the city would interest him. Was he to
+be disposed of on the road? No, that would scarcely be; there were too
+many witnesses. In the city prison, then; that was possible. The outlook
+was not rose-colored. He set to work to challenge each of his jailers,
+but this did not serve. At five o'clock the bluff old Colonel Mollendorf
+came in. He dismissed the troopers, who were glad enough to be relieved.
+
+"I'll be responsible for the prisoner from now on," he said. As soon
+as he and Maurice were alone he propped his chin and contemplated the
+sullen face of the prisoner. "Well, my son, I am positive that you have
+been accused somewhat hastily, but that's the way women have, jumping
+at conclusions before they read the preface. But you must give Madame
+credit for being honest in the matter, as well as the others. Beauvais
+is positive that the move of the archbishop is due to your selling out
+to him. Come, tell me the story. If you wish, I'll promise not to repeat
+it. Madame is determined to lock you up in any event."
+
+There was something so likable about the old warrior that Maurice
+relented.
+
+"There was nothing in the gun-barrels," he said. "Some one had entered
+that room before me. I thought at first that Beauvais had them; but he
+is the last man in the world to dispose of them to the prelate. But
+has the archbishop got them? I wish I knew. That's all there is to the
+story."
+
+"And her Royal Highness's dog?" slyly.
+
+"What! Did you hear about that?" Maurice flushed.
+
+"There is little going on in Bleiberg that we don't hear about. The
+princess is charming. Poor girl!"
+
+"Madame's victory will have a strange odor. Can she not let the king die
+in peace?"
+
+"My son, she dares not. If that throne were vacant of a king--Let us not
+talk politics."
+
+"Madame has no love for me," said Maurice.
+
+"Madame has no love for any one, if that will give you any
+satisfaction."
+
+"It does. My lord the Englishman came near striking me last night."
+
+"I would not lay that up against him. Madame was the power behind the
+throne."
+
+"And the impulse behind Madame?" smiling.
+
+"You are the only man who has ever crossed Madame's path; she can not
+forget it."
+
+"And she has put me in a bad light, as far as Fitzgerald is concerned. A
+man will believe anything a woman says to him, if he loves her."
+
+"Let us avoid dissertations."
+
+"What do you want to talk about?"
+
+"Yourself; you are interesting, entertaining, and instructive," the
+Colonel answered, laughing. "I never ran across an American who wasn't,
+and I have met a number. What have you done to Beauvais?"
+
+"It is not exactly what I've done; it is what I know."
+
+"What do you know?"
+
+Maurice repeated the story.
+
+"And you bested him at the rapiers?" in astonishment.
+
+"Is there anything startling about it?" asked Maurice.
+
+"He has no match hereabout." The Colonel looked across the table at the
+smooth-faced boy--he was scarcely else--and reflected. "Why did you give
+up the army?"
+
+"The army in America doesn't run to good clothes; the officers have to
+work harder than the privates, and, save in Washington, their social
+status is nil. Besides, there is too much fighting going on all the
+time. Here, an officer is always on dress parade."
+
+"Still, we are always ready. In the past we show up pretty well in
+history. But to return to Beauvais, it is very embarrassing, very."
+
+"It will be for him, if I live long enough."
+
+"Eh?"
+
+"Beauvais has promised to push me off the board, to use his own words. I
+am wondering how he will do it."
+
+"Don't let that disturb you; he will do nothing--now. Well, well; it is
+all a sorry game; and I find that making history has its disadvantages.
+But I have dandled Madame as a child on my knee, and her wish is law;
+wherever her fortunes lead, I must follow. She will win; she can not
+help winning. But I pity that poor devil of a king, who, they say, is
+now bereft of speech. Ah, had he been a man, I could have gone into this
+heart and soul."
+
+"He is on his deathbed. And his daughter, God knows what is in store for
+her. Prince Frederick is dallying with his peasant girl. The day for
+the wedding has come and gone, unless he turned up to-day, which is not
+likely."
+
+"Which is not likely indeed," repeated the Colonel sadly. He pulled out
+his pipe, and smoked for a time. "But let us not judge harshly, says
+the Book. There may be circumstances over which Prince Frederick has no
+control. I suppose your sympathies are on the other side of the path.
+Youth is always quick and generous; it never stops to weigh causes or
+to reason why. And strange, its judgment is almost always unerring. I am
+going to share my dinner with you to-night. I'll try to brighten you up
+a bit."
+
+"Thanks."
+
+"Then after dinner we'll play poker until they come to take you to
+Brunnstadt."
+
+"What sort of a city is it?"
+
+"You will not see much of it; so I will not take the trouble to tell you
+that it is slightly inferior to Bleiberg."
+
+Sure enough, when the dark of evening fell, two servants entered with
+trays and baskets, and proceeded to lay the table. They put new candles
+in the bayonets.
+
+"Ha!" said the Colonel; "you have forgotten the wine, rascals!"
+
+"Bring a dozen bottles," Maurice suggested, having an idea in mind.
+
+"Eh?"
+
+"Remember, Colonel, I've been a soldier and a journalist in a country
+where they only wash with water. In the summer we have whisky iced,
+in the winter we have it hot; an antidote for both heat and cold. Ah,
+Colonel, if you only might sniff a mint julep!"
+
+"A dozen bottles, then," said the Colonel to the servants, who retired
+to execute the order.
+
+"How old will it be?" asked Maurice.
+
+"Twice your age, my son. But do not make any miscalculation about my
+capacity for tokayer."
+
+"Any miscalculation?" Maurice echoed.
+
+"Yes; if you plan to get me drunk. There are no troopers about, and it
+would be easy enough for you to slip out if I should lose my head."
+
+Maurice's laugh had a false ring to it. The Colonel had made a very
+shrewd guess.
+
+"Well!" said the Colonel, with a gesture toward the table.
+
+They sat down, and both made an excellent dinner. Maurice demolished
+a roasted pheasant, stuffed with chestnuts, while the Colonel
+disintegrated a duck. The wine came, and the servants ranged six bottles
+on the side of each plate. It was done so gravely that Maurice laughed
+heartily. The wine was the oldest in Madame's cellar, and Maurice
+wondered at the Colonel's temerity in selecting it. The bottles were of
+thick glass, fat-bottomed, and ungainly, and Maurice figured that there
+was more than a pint in each. It possessed a delicious bouquet. The
+Colonel emptied three bottles, with no more effect than if the wine had
+been water. Maurice did not appreciate this feat until he had himself
+emptied a bottle. It was then he saw that the boot was likely to be on
+the other foot.
+
+He looked at the Colonel enviously; the old soldier was a gulf. He
+had miscalculated, indeed. But he was fertile in plans, and a more
+reasonable one occurred to him. He drank another bottle and began to
+talk verbosely. Later he grew confidential. He told the Colonel a great
+many things which--had never happened, things impossible and improbable.
+The Colonel listened soberly, and nodded now and again. Dinner past,
+they pushed the remains aside and began to play poker, a game at which
+the Colonel proved to be no novice, much to Maurice's wonder.
+
+"Why, you know the game as thoroughly as an Arizona corporal."
+
+"I generally spend a month of the winter in Vienna. One of your
+compatriots taught me the interesting game." The Colonel shuffled the
+cards. "It is the great American game, so I am told."
+
+"O, they play checkers in the New England states," said Maurice,
+hiccoughing slightly. "But out west and in all the great cities poker
+has the way."
+
+"What have you got?" asked the Colonel, answering a call.
+
+"Jacks full."
+
+"Takes the pot;" and this Americanism came so naturally that Maurice
+roared.
+
+"Poker is a great preliminary study to diplomacy," said the Colonel, as
+he scrutinized his hand. "You raise it?"
+
+"Yes. One card. Diplomacy? So it is. I played a game with the Chinese
+ambassador in Washington one night. I was teaching him how to play. I
+lost all the ready money I had with me. Next day I found out that he
+was the shrewdest player in the diplomatic circles. Let's make it a
+jackpot."
+
+"All the same to me."
+
+And the game went on. Presently Maurice threw aside his coat. He was
+feeling the warmth of the wine, but he opened another bottle.
+
+"Is there any truth," said the Colonel, "about your shooting a man who
+is found cheating in your country?"
+
+"There is, if you can draw quicker than he." Maurice glanced at his hand
+and threw it down.
+
+"What did you have?"
+
+"Nothing. I was trying to fill a straight."
+
+"So was I," said the Colonel, sweeping the board. "It's your deal." He
+unbottoned his coat.
+
+Maurice felt a shiver of delight. Sticking out of the Colonel's belt was
+the ebony handle of a cavalry revolver, and he made up his mind to get
+it. There were no troopers around--the Colonel had admitted as much. He
+began talking rapidly, sometimes incoherently. In a corner of the room
+he saw the cords which had been around his wrists and ankles the night
+before.
+
+"Poker," said the Colonel, "depends mostly on what you Americans call
+bluff. A bluff, as I understand it, is making the others think you have
+them when you haven't, or you haven't got them when you have. In one
+case you scare them, in the other you fish. You're getting flushed, my
+son; you'll have a headache to-night; and in an hour you start."
+
+An hour! There was fever in Maurice's veins, but it was not caused
+wholly by the heat of the wine. How should he manage it? He must have
+that revolver.
+
+"Call? What have you got?" asked the Colonel.
+
+"Three kings--no, by George! only a pair. I thought a queen was a
+king. My head's beginning to get shaky. Colonel, I believe I am getting
+drunk."
+
+"I am sure of it."
+
+Maurice got up and rolled in an extraordinary fashion, but he was
+careful not to overdo it. He began to sing. The Colonel got up, too, and
+he was laughing. Maurice accidentally knocked over some empty bottles;
+he kicked them about.
+
+"Sh!" cried the Colonel, coming around the table; "you'll stampede the
+horses."
+
+Maurice staggered toward him, and the Colonel caught him in his arms.
+Maurice suddenly drew back, and the Colonel found himself looking into
+the cavernous tube of his own revolver. Not a muscle in his face moved.
+
+"Take off your coat," said Maurice, quietly.
+
+The Colonel complied. "You are not so very drunk just now."
+
+"No. It was one of those bluffs when you make them think you haven't
+them when you have."
+
+"What next?" asked the Colonel.
+
+"Those cords in the corner."
+
+The Colonel picked them up, sat down and gravely tied one around
+his ankles. Maurice watched him curiously. The old fellow was rather
+agreeable, he thought.
+
+"Now," the Colonel inquired calmly, "how are you going to tie my hands?
+Can you hold the revolver in one hand and tie with the other?"
+
+"Hang me!" exclaimed Maurice, finding himself brought to a halt.
+
+"My son," said the Colonel, "you are clever. In fact, you are one of
+those fellows who grow to be great. You never miss an opportunity, and
+more often than not you invent opportunities, which is better still. The
+truth is, you have proceeded exactly on the lines I thought you would;
+and thereby you have saved me the trouble of lying or having it out with
+Madame. I am a victim, not an accomplice; I was forced at the point of a
+revolver; I had nothing to say. If I had really been careless you would
+have accomplished the feat just the same. For it was easily accomplished
+you will admit. 'Tis true I knew you were acting because I expected you
+to act. All this preamble puzzles you."
+
+Certainly Maurice's countenance expressed nothing less than perplexity.
+He stepped back a few paces.
+
+"You have," continued the Colonel, "perhaps three-quarters of an hour.
+You will be able to get out of here. You will have to depend on your
+resources to cross the frontier."
+
+"Would you just as soon explain to me--"
+
+"It means that a certain young lady, like myself, believes in your
+innocence."
+
+"The countess?" Maurice cried eagerly, remembering the look of the night
+before and the tears which were in it.
+
+"I will not mention any names. Suffice it to say that it was due to her
+pleading that I consented to play poker--and to let you fall into my
+arms. Come, to work," holding out his hands.
+
+First Maurice clasped the hand and wrung it. "Colonel, I do not want you
+to get into trouble on my account--"
+
+"Go along with you! If you were really important," in half a banter, "it
+would be altogether a different matter. As it is, you are more in the
+way than anything else, only Madame does not see it in that light. Come,
+at my wrists, and take your handkerchief and tie it over my mouth; make
+a complete job of it while you're at it."
+
+"But they'll wonder how I tied you--"
+
+"By the book, the boy is quite willing to sit down and play poker with
+me till the escort comes! Don't trouble yourself about me; Madame has
+too much need of me to give me more than a slight rating. Hurry and be
+off, and remember that Beauvais has promised to push you off the board.
+Take the near path for the woods and strike northeast. If you run into
+any sentries it will be your own fault."
+
+"And the army?"
+
+"The army? Who the devil has said anything about the army?"
+
+"I heard it go past last night."
+
+"Humph! Keep to the right of the pass. Now, quick, before my conscience
+speaks above a whisper."
+
+"I should like to see the countess."
+
+"You will--if you reach Bleiberg by to-morrow night."
+
+Maurice needed no further urging, and soon he had the Colonel securely
+bound and silenced. Next he put on the Colonel's hat and coat, and
+examined the revolver.
+
+"It was very kind of you to load it, Colonel."
+
+The Colonel blinked his eyes.
+
+"Au revoir!" said Maurice, as he made for the door. "Vergis mein nicht!"
+and he was gone.
+
+He crept down the stairs, cautiously entered the court, it was deserted.
+The moon was up and shining. The gate was locked, but he climbed it
+without mishap. Not a sentry was in sight. He followed the path, and
+swung off into the forest. He was free. Here he took a breathing spell.
+When he started onward he held the revolver ready. Woe to the sentry who
+blundered on him! For he was determined to cross the frontier if there
+was a breath of life in him. Moreover, he must be in Bleiberg within
+twenty hours.
+
+He was positive that Madame the duchess intended to steal a march, to
+declare war only when she was within gunshot of Bleiberg. It lay with
+him to prevent this move. His cup of wrath was full. From now on he was
+resolved to wage war against Madame on his own account. She had laughed
+in his face. He pushed on, examining trees, hollows and ditches.
+Sometimes he put his hand to his ear and listened. There was no sound in
+the great lonely forest, save for the low murmur of the wind through the
+sprawling boughs. Shadows danced on the forest floor. Once he turned and
+shook his clenched fist toward the spot which marked the location of the
+Red Chateau. He thanked Providence that he was never to see it again.
+What an adventure to tell at the clubs when he once more regained his
+Vienna! Would he regain it?
+
+Why did Madame keep Fitzgerald to her strings? He concluded not to
+bother himself with problems abstract; the main object was to cross
+the Thalians by a path of his own choosing. When he had covered what he
+thought to be a quarter of a mile, he mounted a lookout. The highway was
+about three hundred yards to the left. That was where it should be. He
+saw no sentries, so he slid down from the tree and resumed his journey.
+The chestnuts, oaks, and firs were growing thicker and denser. A dead
+branch cracked with a loud report beneath his feet. With his heart
+almost in his throat, he lay down and listened. A minute passed; he
+listened in vain for an answering noise. He got up and went on.
+
+Presently he came upon a cluster of trees which was capable of affording
+a hiding place for three or four men. He stood still and surveyed it.
+The moon cast moving shadows on either side of it, but these had no
+human shape. He laughed silently at his fear, and as he was about to
+pass the cluster a man stepped out from behind it, his eyes gleaming
+and his hand extended. He was rather a handsome fellow, but pale and
+emaciated. He wore a trooper's uniform, and Maurice, swearing softly,
+concluded that his dash for liberty had come to naught. He, too, held
+a revolver in his hand, but he dared not raise it. There was a certain
+expression on the trooper's face which precluded any arguing.
+
+"If you move," the trooper said, in a mild voice; "if you utter a sound,
+I'll blow off the top of your cursed head!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. THE PRISONER OF THE RED CHATEAU
+
+There the two stood, mottled in the moonshine and shadow, with wild
+eyes and nostrils distended, the one triumphant, the other raging and
+impotent. Maurice was growing weary of fortune's discourtesies. He gazed
+alternately from his own revolver, lying at his feet, to the one in
+the hand of this unexpected visitant. Only two miles between him and
+freedom, yet he must turn back. The Colonel had reckoned without Madame,
+and therefore without reason. This man had probably got around in front
+of him when he climbed the tree. He turned sullenly and started to walk
+away, expecting to be followed.
+
+"Halt! Where the devil are you going?"
+
+"Why, back to your cursed chateau!" Maurice answered surlily.
+
+The strange trooper laughed discordantly. "Back to the chateau? I think
+not. Now, then, right about face--march! Aye, toward the frontier; and
+if I have to go on alone, so much the worse for you. I've knocked in one
+man's head; if necessary, I'll blow off the top of yours. You know the
+way back to Bleiberg, I don't; that is why I want your company. Now
+march."
+
+But Maurice did not march; he was filled with curiosity. "Are you a
+trooper in Madame the duchess's household?" he asked.
+
+"No, curse you!"
+
+"Who are you, then?"
+
+"Come, come; this will not pass. No tricks; you have been following me
+these twenty minutes."
+
+"The deuce I have!" exclaimed Maurice, bewildered. "To Bleiberg, is it?"
+
+"And without loss of time. When we cross the Thalians I shall be
+perfectly willing to parley with you."
+
+"To Bleiberg, then," said Maurice. "Since that is my destination, the
+devil I care how I get there."
+
+"Do you mean to tell me that you are going to Bleiberg?" surprise
+mingling with his impatience.
+
+"No place else."
+
+"Are you a spy?" menacingly.
+
+"No more than you."
+
+"But that uniform!"
+
+"I fancy yours looks a good deal like it," Maurice replied testily.
+
+"I confess I never saw you before, and your tongue has a foreign twist,"
+with growing doubt.
+
+"I am sure I never saw you before, nor want to see you again."
+
+"What are you doing in that uniform?"
+
+"You have the advantage of me; suppose you begin the introduction?"
+
+"Indeed I have the advantage of you, and propose to maintain it. Who are
+you and what are you doing here? Answer!"
+
+There was something in the young man's aspect which convinced Maurice
+that it would be folly to trifle. Besides, he gave to his words an
+air which distinguishes the man who commands from the man who serves.
+Maurice briefly acquainted the young man with his name and position.
+
+"And you?" he asked.
+
+"I?" The young man laughed again. It was an unpleasant laugh. "Never
+mind who I am. Let us go, we are losing time. What is the date?"
+suddenly.
+
+"The twentieth of September," answered Maurice.
+
+"My God, a day too late!" The young man had an attack of vertigo, and
+was obliged to lean against a tree for support. "Are you telling me the
+truth about yourself?"
+
+"I am. I myself was attempting to dispense with the questionable
+hospitality of the Red Chateau--good Lord!" striking his forehead.
+
+"What's the matter?"
+
+"Are you the mysterious prisoner of the chateau, the man they have been
+keeping at the end of the east corridor on the third floor?"
+
+"Yes. And woe to the woman who kept me there! How came you there?"
+
+Maurice, confident that something extraordinary was taking place,
+related in synopsis his adventures.
+
+"And this cursed Englishman?"
+
+"Will drain a bitter cup. Madame is playing with him."
+
+"And the king; is he dead?"
+
+"He is dying." Maurice's wonder grew. What part had this strange young
+man in this comedy, which was rapidly developing into a tragedy?
+
+"And her Highness--her Royal Highness?" eagerly clutching Maurice by the
+arm; "and she?"
+
+"She does not murmur, though both her pride and her heart are sore.
+She has scarcely a dozen friends. Her paralytic father is the theme of
+ribald jest; and now they laugh at her because the one man who perhaps
+could have saved the throne has deserted her like a coward. Hang him, I
+say!"
+
+"What do they say?" The tones were hollow.
+
+"They say he is enamoured of a peasant girl, and dallies with her,
+forgetting his sacred vows, his promised aid, and perhaps even this, his
+wedding day."
+
+"God help him!" was the startling and despairing cry.... He was again
+seized with the vertigo, and swayed against the tree. For a moment he
+forgot Maurice, covered his face with his unengaged hand, and sobbed.
+
+Maurice was helpless; he could offer no consolation. This grief he could
+not understand. He stooped and picked up his revolver and waited.
+
+"I am weak," said the other man, dashing his hand from his eyes; "I am
+weak and half starved. It would be better for all concerned if I blew
+out my brains. The twentieth, the twentieth!" he repeated, dully. "Curse
+her!" he burst forth; "as there's a God above us, I'll have revenge.
+Aye, I'll return to the chateau, Madame, that I will, but at the head of
+ten thousand men!... The twentieth! She will never forgive me; she will
+think I, too, deserted her!" He broke down again.
+
+"An army!" cried Maurice.
+
+"Aye, and ten thousand men! Come," taking Maurice by the arm; "come,
+they may be seeking us. To the frontier. Every hour is precious. To
+a telegraph office! We shall see if I dally with peasant girls, if I
+forsake the woman I love!"
+
+"You?" Maurice retreated a step. The silver moonshine became tinged with
+red.
+
+"I am Prince Frederick, and I love her Highness. I would sacrifice a
+thousand kingdoms to spare her a moment's sorrow. I have always loved
+her."
+
+"What a woman!" Maurice murmured, as the scheme of Madame's flashed
+through his mind. "What a woman! And she had the audacity to kidnap you,
+too!"
+
+"And by the most dishonorable device. I and my suite of gentlemen were
+coming to Bleiberg to make the final arrangements. At Ehrenstein I
+received a telegram which requested me to visit till the following train
+a baron who was formerly a comrade of my father. The telegram advised me
+of his sudden illness, and that he had something important to disclose
+to me. I bade my gentlemen, save one, proceed to Bleiberg. My aide and
+I entered the carriage which was to convey us to the castle. We never
+reached it. On the road we fell into an ambush, a contrivance of
+Madame's. I was brought to the chateau. Whatever happened to Hofer, my
+aide, I do not know. Doubtless he is dead. But Madame shall pay, both in
+pride and wealth. I will lay waste this duchy of hers, though in the end
+the emperor crush me. Let us be off."
+
+They stumbled on through the forest. So confused was Maurice that he
+forgot his usual caution. The supreme confidence of this woman and
+the flawlessness of her schemes dazed him. So far she had stopped at
+nothing; where would she end? A Napoleon in petticoats, she was about to
+appall the confederation. She had suppressed a prince who was heir to
+a kingdom triple in power and size to the kingdom which she coveted.
+Madame the duchess was relying on some greater power, else her plans
+were madness.
+
+As for the prince, he had but one thought: to reach Bleiberg. The
+confinement, together with mental suffering, anxiety and forced
+inaction, began to tell on him. Twice he tripped and fell, and Maurice
+had to return to assist him to his feet. However could they cross
+the mountains, a feat which needed both courage and extreme physical
+endurance?
+
+"I am so weak," said the prince, "so pitiably weak! I thought to
+frighten the woman by starving myself, poor fool that I was!"
+
+And they went on again. Maurice was beginning to feel the effect of his
+wine-bibbing; he had a splitting headache.
+
+"Silence!" he suddenly whispered, sinking and dragging the prince with
+him.
+
+A hundred yards in advance of them stood a sentinel, his body bent
+forward and a hand to his ear. Presently he, too, lay down. Five minutes
+passed. The sentinel rose, and convinced that his ears had tricked him,
+resumed his lonely patrol. He disappeared toward the west, while the
+fugitives made off in an easterly direction. Maurice was a soldier
+again. Every two or three hundred yards he knelt and pressed his ear to
+the cold, damp earth and waited for a familiar jar. The prince watched
+these movements with interest.
+
+"You have been a soldier?" he asked.
+
+"Yes. Perhaps we had better strike out for the mountains. The sentry
+line can not extend as far as this."
+
+But now they could see the drab peaks of the mountains which loomed
+between the partly dismantled trees. Beyond lay the kingdom. Would they
+ever reach it? There was only one pass; this they dared not make. Yet
+if they attempted to cross the mountains in a deserted place, they
+might very easily get lost; for in some locations it was fully six miles
+across the range, and this, with the ups and downs and windings in
+and out, might lengthen into twenty miles. They struck out toward the
+mountains, and after half an hour they came upon an unforeseen obstacle.
+They sat down in despair. This obstacle was the river, not very, wide,
+but deep, turbulent and impassable.
+
+"We shall have to risk the pass," said Maurice, gloomily; "though heaven
+knows how we are to get through it. We have ten shots between us."
+
+They followed the river. The roar of it deadened all other sounds. For
+a mile they plodded on, silent, watchful and meditative. The prince
+thought of his love; Maurice tried to forget his. For him the romance
+had come to an end, its logical end; and it was now only a question of
+getting back to the world to which he belonged and remaining there. He
+recalled a line he had read somewhere: a deep love, gashes into the
+soul as a scar is hewn upon the body and remains there during the whole
+life...
+
+"Look!" cried the prince. He pointed toward the west.
+
+Maurice came out of his dream and looked. Some distance west of the
+pass, perhaps half a mile from where they stood, Maurice saw the twinkle
+of a hundred campfires. It was Madame's army in bivouac.
+
+"What does this mean?" asked the prince.
+
+"It means that the duchess is on the eve of striking a blow for her
+crown," answered Maurice. "And how are we to make the pass, which is
+probably filled with soldiers? If only we could find a boat! Ah! what
+would your Highness call this?" He pointed to a thread-like line of bare
+earth which wended riverward.
+
+"A sheep or cattle path," said the prince, after a close inspection.
+
+"Then the river is perhaps fordable here!" exclaimed Maurice jubilantly.
+"At any rate, we'll try it; if it gets too deep, we'll come back."
+
+He walked to the water's edge, studied the black whirling mass,
+shrugged and stepped in. The prince came after him, unhesitatingly. Both
+shivered. The water was intensely cold. But the bed was shallow, and
+the river never mounted above the waist. However, in midstream it rushed
+strongly and wildly along, and all but carried them off their feet. They
+arrived in safety at the opposite shore, weak and cold in body, but warm
+in spirit. They lay on the grass for several moments, breathing heavily.
+They might now gain the pass by clambering up the mountain and picking
+their way down from the other side. It was not possible that Madame's
+troopers had entered into the kingdom.
+
+"I am giving out," the prince confessed reluctantly. "Let us make as
+much headway as we can while I last."
+
+They stood up. Now the moon fell upon them both; and they viewed each
+other with no little curiosity. What the prince saw pleased him, for he
+possessed a good eye. What Maurice saw was a frank, manly countenance,
+youthful, almost boyish. The prince did not look to be more than three
+and twenty, if that; but there was a man's determination in his jaw.
+This jaw pleased Maurice, for it confided to him that Madame had now
+something that would cause her worry.
+
+"I put myself in your care," said the prince, offering his hand. "I am
+not equal to much. A man can not see his wedding day come and go without
+him, helpless to prevent it, and not have the desire to sit down and
+weep and curse. You will see nothing but the unfavorable side of me for
+the next dozen hours."
+
+"I'm not altogether amiable myself," replied Maurice with a short
+laugh. "Let us get out of the moonlight," he added; "we are somewhat
+conspicuous, and besides, we should keep moving; this cold is
+paralyzing. Is your Highness equal to the climbing?"
+
+"Equal or not, lead the way. If I fall I'll call you."
+
+And the weary march began again; over boulders, through tangles of tough
+shrubbery, up steep inclines, around precipices, sometimes enveloped in
+mists, yet still they kept on. Often the prince fell over ragged stones,
+but he picked himself up without assistance; though he swore some,
+Maurice thought none the less of him for that bit of human weakness. The
+cold was numbing, and neither felt the cuts and bruises.
+
+After two hours of this fatiguing labor they arrived upon a small
+plateau, about two thousand feet above the valley. The scene was solemn
+and imposing. The world seemed lying at their feet. The chateau, half
+hidden in the mist, sparkled like an opal. Maurice scowled at it. To the
+prince the vision was as reviving as a glass of wine. He threatened
+it with his fist, and plunged on with renewed vigor. There are few
+sensations so stimulating as the thought of a complete revenge. The
+angle of vision presently changed, and the historic pile vanished.
+Maurice never saw the Red Chateau again.
+
+Little more in the way of mishap befell them; and when the moon had
+wheeled half way down from the zenith, the kingdom lay below them.
+A descent of an hour's duration brought them into the pass. Maurice
+calculated that nearly five hours had passed since he left the chateau;
+for the blue was fading in the east. The phantom vitality of the prince
+now forsook him; his legs refused their offices, and he sank upon a
+boulder, his head in his hands. Maurice was not much better; but the
+prince had given him the burden of responsibility, and he was determined
+to hold up under it.
+
+"If your Highness will remain here," he said, "I will fetch assistance,
+for the barrack can not be far off."
+
+The prince nodded and Maurice tramped away. But the miniature barrack
+and the quaint stone customs house both were wrapt in gloom and
+darkness. Maurice investigated. Both buildings were deserted; there
+was no sign of life about. He broke a window, and entered the customs
+office. Remembering that Colonel Mollendorf smoked, he searched the
+inner pocket of his coat. He drew forth a box of wax matches, struck one
+and looked about. A struggle had taken place. Evidences were strewn on
+the floor. The telegraph operator's table had been smashed into bits,
+the instrument twisted out of shape, the jars broken and the wires cut.
+Like indications of a disturbance were also found in the barrack.
+
+Maurice began to comprehend. Madame's troopers had crossed the frontier,
+but they had returned again, taking with them the handful of troopers
+belonging to the king. It was plain that the object of this skirmish had
+been to destroy communications between Bleiberg and the frontier. Madame
+desired to effect a complete surprise, to swoop down on the capital
+before it could bring a large force into the field.
+
+There is an unwritten law that when one country intends to wage war
+against its neighbor a formal declaration shall be made. But again
+Madame had forsaken the beaten paths. More than three weeks had passed
+since the duchy's representative in Bleiberg had been discredited and
+given his passports. At once the duchess had retaliated by discrediting
+the king's representative in Brunnstadt. Ordinarily this would have been
+understood as a mutual declaration of war. Instead, both governments
+ignored each other, one suspiciously, the other intentionally. All of
+which is to say, the gage of war had been flung, but neither had stooped
+to pick it up.
+
+Perhaps Madame expected by this sudden aggressiveness to win her fight
+with as little loss of blood as possible, which in justice to her was to
+her credit. Again, a declaration of war openly made might have moved the
+confederation to veto it by coercion. To win without loss of life would
+leave the confederation powerless to act. Therefore it will be seen that
+Madame was not only a daring woman, but a general of no mean ability.
+
+This post was an isolated one; between it and Bleiberg there was not
+even a village. The main pass from the kingdom into the duchy was about
+thirty miles east. Here was a small but lively city named Coberg, a
+railway center, garrisoned by one thousand troops. At this pass Madame's
+contemplated stroke of war would have been impossible. The railway ran
+directly from Coberg to Brunnstadt, fifty miles south of the frontier.
+A branch of the railway ran from Brunnstadt to a small town seven
+miles south of the Red Chateau, which accounts for the ease with which
+Madame's troops had reached the isolated pass. It was now likely that
+Madame would arrive before Bleiberg ere her enemies dreamed of the
+stroke. Maurice could see how well the traitorous administration had
+played into Madame's hands. Here was the one weak spot, and they had
+allowed it to remain thus weak.
+
+"The kingdom is lost," thought Maurice. "His Highness and I may as well
+return to the chateau, for all the good our escape will do us. Hang them
+all!"
+
+He began to forage, and discovered a bottle full of peach brandy. He
+drank half the contents, reserving the remainder for the prince. As he
+lowered the bottle there came a sound which caused him almost to lose
+hold of the vigorous tonic. The sound he heard was the shrill whinney
+of a horse. He pocketed the bottle and dashed out to the stables. To his
+joy several horses stamped restlessly in the stalls. The attacking party
+had without doubt come on foot. He led out two, saddled and bridled them
+and returned to the prince, who had fallen asleep. Maurice roused him.
+
+"To Bleiberg, your Highness," he cried, at the same time offering the
+bottle, which the prince did not hesitate to empty.
+
+"Ha!" staggering to his feet. "Where are the men?"
+
+Maurice explained the cause of their absence. The prince swore, and
+climbed with difficulty into the saddle.
+
+"Thank God," he said, as they galloped away, "we shall be there first."
+
+"Adieu, Madame!" Maurice cried, airily. He was free.
+
+"To our next meeting, duchess!" The prince, too, was free, but he
+thirsted for a full revenge.
+
+They had been on the way but a short time when Maurice lifted his arm.
+
+"Look!"
+
+The prince raised his head. It was dawn, yellow and cold and pure.
+
+They fell into silence; sometimes Maurice caught himself counting the
+beat of the hoofs and the variation of sounds, as when they struck
+sand or slate, or crossed small wooden bridges. Here and there he saw
+peasants going into the fields to begin the long, long day of toil. The
+saddle on which he sat had been the property of a short man, for the
+stirrups were too high, and the prince's were too low. But neither
+desired to waste time to adjust them. And so they rode with dangling
+legs and bodies sunken in the saddles; mute, as if by agreement.
+
+They had gone perhaps ten miles when they perceived a horse flying
+toward them, half a mile away. The rider was not yet visible. They felt
+no alarm, but instinctively they drew together. Nearer and nearer came
+the lonely horseman, and as the distance lessened into some hundred
+yards they discerned the flutter of a gown.
+
+"A woman!" exclaimed Maurice. "And alone this time of morning!"
+
+"Eh?" cried the prince; "and heading for the duchy? Let us wait."
+
+They drew up to the side of the highway. The woman came fearlessly on,
+her animal's head down and his tail flaring out behind. On, on; abreast
+of them; as she flew past there was a vision of a pale, determined face,
+a blond head bared to the chill wind. She heeded not their challenge;
+it was a question whether or not she heard it. They stood watching her
+until she and her horse dwindled into a mere moving speck, finally to
+become lost altogether in a crook of the road.
+
+"I should like to know what that means," said Maurice.
+
+"It is very strange," the prince said, musingly. "I have seen that woman
+before. She is one of the dancers at the opera."
+
+"Mayhap she has a lover on the other side."
+
+"Mayhap. Let us be on. There's the sun, and we are a good thirteen
+miles away!" and the prince slapped the neck of his horse, which bounded
+forward.
+
+This tiring pace they maintained until they mounted the hill from which
+they could see the glittering spires of the city, and the Werter See as
+it flashed back the sunlight.
+
+"Bleiberg!" Maurice waved his hand.
+
+"Thanks to you, that I look on it."
+
+It was ten o'clock when they passed under the city gates.
+
+"Monsieur, will you go with me to the palace?" asked the prince.
+
+"If your Highness will excuse me," said Maurice; "no, I should be in the
+way; and besides I am dead for want of sleep."
+
+"I shall never sleep," grumbled the prince, "till I have humbled that
+woman. And you? Have you no rankle in your heart? Have you no desire to
+witness that woman's humiliation?"
+
+"Your Highness, I belong to a foreign country."
+
+"No matter; be my aide. Come; I offer you a complete revenge for the
+treatment you have received at Madame's hands. Your government shall
+never know."
+
+Maurice studied the mane of his horse. Suddenly he made a gesture. This
+gesture consigned to the four winds his diplomatic career. "I accept,"
+he said. "You will find me at the Continental. I confess that I have no
+love for this woman. She has robbed me of no little conceit."
+
+"To the palace, then; to the palace! And this hour to-morrow we, you and
+I, will drink to her Royal Highness at the Red Chateau. To the palace!"
+
+Up the Strasse they raced, through the lower town to the upper, and down
+the broad asphalt to the palace gates. The prince rushed his horse to
+the very bars and shook them in his wild impatience.
+
+"Ho! open, open!" he called.
+
+Several cuirassiers lounged about. At the sight of these two hatless,
+bedraggled men storming the gates, they ran forward with drawn swords
+and angry cries. Lieutenant Scharfenstein was among them. At second
+glance he recognized Maurice, who hailed him.
+
+"Open, Lieutenant," he cried; "it is his Highness, Prince Frederick!"
+
+The bars came down, the gates swung in.
+
+"Go and sleep," said the prince to Maurice; "I will send an orderly for
+you when the time comes." And with this he dashed up the driveway to the
+main entrance of the palace, leaped from his horse and disappeared.
+
+Maurice wheeled and drove leisurely to the Continental, leaving the
+amazed cuirassiers gaping after him. He experienced that exuberance of
+spirits which always comes with a delightful day dream. He forgot his
+weariness, his bruises. To mingle directly in the affairs of kings and
+princes, to be a factor among factors who surround and uphold thrones,
+seemed so at variance with his republican learning that he was not sure
+that all this was not one long dream--Fitzgerald and his consols, the
+meeting with the princess, the adventures at Madame's chateau, the
+duel with Beauvais, the last night's flight with the prince across the
+mountains! Yes; he had fallen asleep somewhere and had been whisked away
+into a kind of fairyland. Every one was in trouble just now, as they
+always are in certain chapters of fairy tales, but all would end
+happily, and then--he would wake.
+
+Meanwhile the prince entered the palace and was proceeding up the grand
+corridor, when a bared sword stayed his progress.
+
+"Monsieur," said von Mitter, "you have lost your way. You can not enter
+here."
+
+"I?" a haughty, threatening expression on his pale face. "Are you sure?"
+
+Von Mitter fell back against the wall and all but lost hold of his
+saber. "Your Highness?" he gasped, overcome.
+
+"Even so!" said the prince. "The archbishop! the Marshal! Lead me to
+them at once!"
+
+Von Mitter was too much the soldier not to master his surprise at once.
+He saluted, clicked his heels and limped toward the throne room.
+He stopped at the threshold, saluted again, and, in a voice full of
+quavers, announced:
+
+"His Highness Prince Frederick of Carnavia."
+
+He stepped aside, and the prince pushed past him into the throne room.
+At this dramatic entrance there rose from the archbishop, the Marshal,
+the princess, the Carnavian ambassador, from all the court dignitaries,
+a cry of wonder and astonishment.
+
+"His Highness!"
+
+"Aye!" cried the prince, brokenly, for his joy at seeing the princess
+nigh overcame him. "I have been a prisoner of Madame's, who at this
+moment is marching on Bleiberg with an army four thousand strong!" And
+stumblingly he related his misadventures.
+
+The Marshal did not wait until he had done, nor did the new Colonel
+of the cuirassiers; both rushed from the room. The archbishop frowned;
+while the princess and the court stared at the prince with varying
+emotions. Before the final word had passed his lips, he approached her
+Highness, fell on his knee and raised her hand to his lips. He noticed
+not how cold it was.
+
+"Thank God, Mademoiselle," he said, "that once more I look into your
+eyes. And if one wedding day is gone--well, there is yet time for
+another!" He, rose, and proudly before them all he drew her toward him
+and kissed her cheek. It was his right; she was, the light of all
+his dreams, at once his bride-to-be and lady-love. But in his joy and
+eagerness he did not see how pale she grew at the touch of his lips, nor
+how the lids of her eyes trembled and fell.
+
+Next the prince recounted Maurice's adventures, how he became connected
+with those at the chateau, even Fitzgerald's fall from grace. The
+indignation and surprise which was accorded this recital was unbounded.
+
+The brown eyes of the princess filled. In a moment she had traversed the
+space of ten years to a rare September noon, when a gray-haired old man
+had kissed her hand and praised her speech. A young dog stood beside
+her, ready for a romp in the park. Across the path sat her father, who
+was smiling, and who would never smile again. How many times had her
+girlish fancy pictured the son of that old man! How many times had she
+dreamed of him--aye, prayed for him! The room grew dark, and she pressed
+her hand over her heart. To her the future was empty indeed. There was
+nothing left but the vague perfume of the past, the faint incense of
+futile, childish dreams. To stand on the very threshold of life, and
+yet to see no joy beyond! She struggled against the sob which rose, and
+conquered it.
+
+"To arms, Messieurs, to arms!" cried the prince, feverishly. "To arms!"
+
+The archbishop stepped forward and took the prince's hand in his own.
+
+"God wills all things," he said, sadly, "and perhaps he has willed that
+your Highness should come too late!" And that strange, habitual smile
+was gone--forever. No one could fathom the true significance of this
+peculiar speech.
+
+"But 'aux armes' was taken up, and spread throughout the city.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. THE FORTUNES OF WAR
+
+War! The whole city was in tumult. The guests were leaving the hotels,
+the timid were preparing to fly, and shopkeepers were putting up their
+blinds and hiding their valuables; the parks and cafes were deserted.
+The railway booking office was crowded, and a babel of tongues quarreled
+for precedence. The siege of Paris was but yesterday's news, and
+tourists did not propose to be walled in from the outer world. Some
+looked upon the scene as a comic opera; others saw the tragedy of men
+snarling at one another's throats.
+
+Two hundred gendarmes patrolled the streets; for in war time the dregs
+of a city float to the surface. Above the foreign legations flags rose,
+offering protection to all those who possessed the right to claim it.
+Less than four thousand troops had marched from the city that day, but
+these were the flower of the army, consisting of two thousand foot, six
+cannon and twelve hundred horse. Europe has always depended largely
+on the cavalry, which in the past has been a most formidable engine in
+warfare.
+
+With gay plumes and banners, glittering helmets and flashing cuirasses,
+they had gone forth to meet Madame and drive her back across the range.
+They had made a brave picture, especially the royal cuirassiers, who
+numbered three hundred strong, and who were to fight not only for glory,
+but for bread. Fifty of them had been left behind to guard the palaces.
+
+In the royal bedchamber the king lay, all unconscious of the fate
+impending. The brain had ceased to live; only a feeble pulse stirred
+irregularly. The state physician shook his head, and, from time to time,
+laid his fingers on the unfeeling wrist. To him it was a matter of a few
+hours.
+
+But to the girl, whose face lay hidden in the counterpane, close to one
+of those senseless hands, to her it was a matter of a breaking heart, of
+eyes which could be no longer urged to tears, the wells having dried up.
+Dear God, she thought, how cruel it was! Her tried and trusted friend,
+the one playmate of her childhood, was silently slipping out of her life
+forever. Ah, what to her were crowns and kingdoms, aye, and even war?
+Her father dead, what mattered it who reigned? How she prayed that he
+might live! They would go away together, and live in peace and quiet,
+undisturbed by the storms of intrigue.... It was not to be; he was
+dying. She would be the wife of no man; her father, hovering in spirit
+above her, would read her heart and understand. Dead, he would ask no
+sacrifice of her. Henceforth only God would be her king, and she would
+worship him in some sacred convent.
+
+The old valet, who had served his master from boyhood, stood in the
+anteroom and fumbled his lips, his faded eyes red with weeping. He was
+losing the only friend he had. Elsewhere the servants wandered about
+restlessly, waiting for news from the front, to learn if they, too, were
+to join in the mad flight from the city. Few servants love masters in
+adversity. Self-interest is the keynote to their existences.
+
+In the east wing three men were holding a whispered consultation. The
+faces of two were pale and deep-lined; the face of the third expressed
+a mixture of condolence and triumph. These three gentlemen were the
+archbishop, the chancellor and the Austrian ambassador. History has not
+taken into account what passed between these three men, but subsequent
+events proved that it signified disaster to one who dreamed of conquest
+and of power.
+
+Said the ambassador, rising: "After what has been said, his Imperial
+Majesty will, I can speak authoritatively, further discredit Walmoden;
+for I have this day received information from a reliable source which
+precludes any rehabilitation of that prince. My deepest sympathies are
+with her Highness; his Majesty highly honored her unfortunate father.
+Permit me to bid you good day, for you know that the matter under my
+hand needs my immediate attention."
+
+When he had gone the prelate said: "My friend, our services to the
+kingdom are nearly over."
+
+"We are lost!" replied the chancellor. "The king is happy, indeed."
+
+"I find," said the prelate, "that we have been lost for ten years. Had
+this Englishman proved true, it would not have mattered; had Prince
+Frederick arrived in time, still it would not have mattered. But above
+all, I was determined that Madame the duchess should not triumph. The
+end was written ten years ago. How invincible is fate! How incontestible
+its decrees!"
+
+In the lower town the students were preparing a riot, which was to take
+place that night. Old Stuler's was thronged. Stuler himself looked on
+indifferently, even listlessly. He had heard of Kopf's death.
+
+It was half after five of the afternoon. Six miles beyond the Althofen
+bridge, in all thirteen miles from Bleiberg, a long, low cloud of dust
+hung over the king's highway. This cloud of dust was caused by the
+hurried, rhythmic pad-pad of human feet, the striking of hoofs and
+the wheels of cannon. It marked the progress of an army. To the great
+surprise of the Marshal, the prince and the staff, they had pushed thus
+far during the afternoon without seeing a sign of the enemy. Was Madame
+asleep? Was she so confident her projects were unknown that she had
+chosen night as the time of her attack? Night, indeed, when the strength
+of her forces would be a matter of conjecture to the assaulted, who at
+the suddenness of her approach would succumb to panic! The prince was
+jubilant and hopeful. He had no doubt that they would arrive at the pass
+just as Madame was issuing forth. This meant an easy victory, for once
+the guns covered the narrow pass, though Madame's army were ten times as
+strong, its defeat was certain. A small force might hold it in check for
+hours.
+
+A squadron of cuirassiers had been sent forward to reconnoiter, and as
+yet none had returned with alarms. The road had many windings, and was
+billowed frequently with hills, and ran through small forests. Only the
+vast blue bulk of the mountains remained ever in view.
+
+"We shall drink at the Red Chateau to-night," said the prince, gaily, to
+Maurice.
+
+"That we shall," replied Maurice; "and the best in the cellars."
+
+Only the Marshal said nothing; he knew what war was. In his youth he had
+served in Transylvania, and he was not minded to laugh and jest. Then,
+too, there was injustice on both sides. Poor devil! as his thoughts
+recurred to the king. Touched for the moment by the wings of ambition,
+which is at best a white vulture, he had usurped another's throne, and
+to this end! But he was less answerable than the archbishop, who had
+urged him.
+
+Occasionally he glanced back at the native troops, the foot, the horse,
+the artillery, and scowled. From these his glance wandered to the cold,
+impassive face of General Kronau, who rode at his side, and he rubbed
+his nose. Kronau had been a favorite of Albrecht's... How would he act?
+In truth, the Marshal's thoughts were not altogether pleasant. Some of
+these men surrounding him, exchanging persiflage, might never witness
+another sunset. For, while the world would look upon this encounter as
+one looks upon a comedy, for some it would serve as tragedy. Often he
+lent his ear to the gay banter of the young American, and watched the
+careless smile on his face. What was he doing here? Why was he risking
+his life for no cause whatever, an alien, in natural sympathy neither
+with the kingdom nor with the duchy? A sad, grim smile parted his lips.
+
+"O, the urbanity of the young and the brave!" he murmured.
+
+Maurice felt the old familiar exhilaration--the soldier's
+exhilaration--quicken the beat of his pulse. He did not ask himself
+why he was here; he knew why. A delightful flower had sprung up in his
+heart, and fate had nipped it. Whither this new adventure would lead
+him he cared not. From now on life for him must be renewed by continual
+change and excitement. Since no one depended on him, his life was his
+to dispose of as he willed. Friends? He laughed. He knew the world too
+well. He himself was his best friend, for he had always been true to
+himself.
+
+He might be shot, but he had faced that possibility before. Besides,
+to-day's experience would be new to him. He had never witnessed a battle
+in the open, man to man, in bright, resplendent uniforms. A ragged,
+dusty troop of brown-skinned men in faded blue, with free and easy
+hats, irregular of formation, no glory, no brilliancy, skirmishing
+with outlawed white men and cunning Indians, that was the extent of his
+knowledge by experience. True, these self-same men in dingy blue fought
+with a daring such as few soldiers living possessed; but they lacked the
+ideal picturesqueness which made this army so attractive.
+
+The sharp edges of his recent fatigue were not yet dulled, but his
+cuirass sat lightly upon him, the sound of the dangling saber at his
+side smote pleasantly his ear, and the black Mecklenberg under him
+was strong and active. To return to Madame's chateau in the guise of a
+conqueror was a most engaging thought. She had humbled his self-love,
+now to humble hers! He no longer bothered himself about Beauvais, whose
+case he had placed in the hands of the Austrian ambassador.
+
+Gay and debonair he rode that late September afternoon. No man around
+him had so clear an eye nor so constant a vivacity. Since he had nothing
+but his life to lose, he had no fear. Let the theater be full of light
+while the play lasted, and let the curtain fall to a round of huzzas!
+For a few short hours ago he had kissed a woman's hand and had looked
+into her sad brown eyes. "Why you do this I do not know, nor shall I
+ask. Monsieur, my prayers go with you." Was not that an amulet? His
+diplomatic career! He fell to whistling.
+
+"Ah! que j'aime les militaires!"
+
+More than once the prince felt the sting of envy in his heart at the
+sight of this embodiment of supreme nonchalance. It spoke of a healthy
+salt in the veins, a salt such as kings themselves can not always boast
+of. A foreigner, a republican? No matter; a gallant man.
+
+"Monsieur," he said impulsively, "you shall always possess my
+friendship, once we are well out of this."
+
+"Thanks, your Highness," replied Maurice, and laughing; "the
+after-thought is timely!"
+
+The sun lay close to the western rim of hills; an opal sky encompassed
+the earth; the air was balmy.
+
+"The French call this St. Martin's summer," said Maurice. "In my country
+we call it Indian summer--ah!" lifting in his stirrups.
+
+The army was approaching a hill, when suddenly a whirlwind of dust
+rolled over the summit, and immediately a reconnoitering patrol came
+dashing into view, waving their sabers aloft.... The enemy was less than
+a mile away, and advancing rapidly.
+
+To anticipate. Madame the duchess had indeed contemplated striking the
+blow at night. That morning, like the brave Amazon she was, she had
+pitched her tent in the midst of her army, to marshal and direct its
+forces. It was her intention to be among the first to enter Bleiberg;
+for she was a soldier's daughter, and could master the inherent fears of
+her sex.
+
+That same morning a woman entered the lines and demanded an audience.
+What passed between her and Madame the duchess others never knew. She
+had also been apprised of the prisoners' escape, but, confident that
+they would not be able to make a crossing, she disdained pursuit. The
+prince had missed his wedding day; he was no longer of use to her. As to
+the American, he would become lost, and that would be the end of him.
+
+But the Englishman.... He was conscience eternally barking at her heels.
+The memory of that kiss still rankled in her mind, and not an hour went
+by in which she did not chide herself for the folly. How to get rid of
+him perplexed her. Here he was, in the uniform of a Lieutenant-Colonel,
+ready to go to any lengths at a sign from her. There was something in
+her heart which she had not yet analyzed. First of all, her crown; as to
+her heart, there was plenty of time in which to study that peculiar and
+unstable organ. The possibility of the prince's arriving in Bleiberg
+before her in no way disturbed her. Whenever her attack was made,
+failure would not attend it. She broke camp at two o'clock and took the
+road leisurely toward Bleiberg.
+
+Thus, the two armies faced each other comparatively in the open. A
+battle hung in the air.
+
+The king's forces came to an abrupt halt. Orderlies dashed to and fro.
+The artillery came rumbling and creaking to the front, wheeled, the guns
+unlimbered and ranged so as to enfilade the road. The infantry deployed
+to right and left while the cavalry swung into position on the flanks.
+All this was accomplished with the equanimity of dress parade. Maurice
+could not control his admiration. Madame, he thought, might win her
+crown, but at a pretty cost.
+
+The Marshal and the staff posted themselves on the right breast of the
+hill, from whence, by the aid of binoculars, they could see the enemy.
+From time to time General Kronau nervously smoothed his beard, formed
+his lips into words, but did not utter them, and glanced slyly from
+the corner of his eye at the Marshal, who was intent on the enemy's
+approach. Maurice was trying with naked eye to pierce the forest and the
+rolling ground beyond, and waiting for the roar of the guns.
+
+Orders had been issued for the gunners to get the range and commence
+firing; but as the gunners seemed over long in getting down to work,
+Maurice gazed around impatiently. The blood rushed into his heart. For
+this is what he saw: the infantry leaning indolently on their guns,
+their officers snipping the grasses with their swords; the cuirassiers
+hidden in the bulk of the native cavalry; artillerymen seated carelessly
+on the caissons, and the gunners smoking and leaning against the guns.
+All action was gone, as if by magic; nothing but a strange tableau
+remained! Moreover, a troop of native cavalry, which, for no apparent
+reason, had not joined the main body, had closed in on the general
+staff. Appalled by a sudden thought, Maurice touched the prince, who
+lowered his glasses and turned his head. Bewilderment widened his eyes,
+and the flush on his cheeks died away. He, too, saw.
+
+"Devil's name!" the Marshal burst forth, "why don't the blockheads
+shoot? The enemy--" He stopped, his chin fell, for, as he turned, a
+single glance explained all to him. The red on his face changed into
+a sickly purple, and the glasses slipped from his hands and broke into
+pieces on the stony ground.
+
+"Marshal," began General Kronau, "I respect your age and valiant
+services. That is why we have come thirteen miles. You may keep your
+sword, and also Monsieur the prince. For the present you are prisoners."
+
+For a moment the Marshal was stupefied. His secret fears had been
+realized. Suddenly a hoarse oath issued from his lips, he dragged his
+saber from the scabbard, raised it and made a terrible sweep at the
+General. But the stroke fell on a dozen intervening blades, and the
+Marshal's arms were held and forced to his sides.
+
+"Kronau... you?" he roared. "Betrayed! You despicable coward and
+traitor! You--" But speech forsook him, and he would have fallen from
+the horse but for those who held his arms.
+
+"Traitor?" echoed Kronau, coolly. "To what and to whom? I am serving my
+true and legitimate sovereign. I am also serving humanity, since this
+battle is to be bloodless. It is you who are the traitor. You swore
+allegiance to the duke, and that allegiance is the inheritance of the
+daughter. How have you kept your oath?"
+
+But the Marshal was incapable of answer. One looking at him would have
+said that he was suffering from a stroke of apoplexy.
+
+"I admit," went on the General, not wholly unembarrassed, "that the
+part I play is not an agreeable one to me, but it is preferable to the
+needless loss of human life. The duchess was to have entered Bleiberg
+at night, to save us this present dishonor, if you persist in calling
+it such. But his Highness, who is young, and Monseigneur the archbishop,
+who dreams of Richelieu, made it impossible. No harm is intended to any
+one."
+
+The prince, white and shivering as if with ague, broke his sword on the
+pommel of the saddle and hurled the pieces at Kronau, who permitted them
+to strike him.
+
+"God's witness," the prince cried furiously, "but your victory shall
+be short-lived. I have an army, trusty to the last sword, and you shall
+feel the length of its arm within forty-eight hours."
+
+"Perhaps," said Kronau, shrugging.
+
+"It is already on the way."
+
+"Your Highness forgets that Carnavia belongs to the confederation, and
+that the king, your father, dare not send you troops without the consent
+of the emperor, which, believe me, will never be given;" and he urged
+his horse down the slope.
+
+The army of the duchess had now gained the open. The advance was
+composed of cavalry, which came along the road with wings on either
+side, and with great dash and splendor.
+
+A noisy cheer arose, to be faintly echoed by the oncoming avalanche of
+white horses and dazzling blue uniforms.
+
+This was the incident upon which Madame the duchess relied.
+
+With rage and chagrin in his heart, Maurice viewed the scene. The knell
+of the Osians had been struck. He gazed forlornly at the cuirassiers;
+they at least had come to sell their lives honestly for their bread.
+Presently the two armies came together; all was confusion and cheers.
+Kronau approached the leader of the cavalry.... Maurice was greatly
+disturbed. He leaned toward the prince.
+
+"Your Highness," he whispered, "I am going to make a dash for the road."
+
+"Yes, yes!" replied the prince, intuitively. "My God, yes! Warn her to
+fly, so that she will not be compelled to witness this cursed woman's
+triumph. Save her that humiliation. Go, and God be with you, my friend!
+We are all dishonored. The Marshal looks as if he were dying."
+
+The native troopers, in their eagerness to witness the meeting between
+Kronau and the former Colonel of the cuirassiers, had pushed forward. A
+dozen, however, had hemmed in the Marshal, the prince and Maurice. But
+these were standing in their stirrups. Maurice gradually brought his
+horse about so that presently he was facing north. Directly in front of
+him was an opening. He grasped his saber firmly and pressed the spurs.
+Quick as he was, two sabers barred his way, but he beat them aside, went
+diagonally down the hill, over the stone wall and into the road.
+
+While he was maneuvering for this dash, one man had been eying him with
+satisfaction. As the black horse suddenly sank from view behind the
+hill, Beauvais, to the astonishment of Kronau, drew his revolver.
+
+"There goes a man," he cried, "who must not escape. He is so valuable
+that I shall permit no one but myself to bring him back!" And the
+splendid white animal under him bounded up the hill and down the other
+side.
+
+Beauvais had a well-defined purpose in following alone. He was
+determined that one Maurice Carewe should not bother anyone hereafter;
+he knew too much.
+
+The white horse and the black faded away in the blur of rising dust.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI. A PAGE FROM TASSO
+
+For a long time Maurice rode with his head almost touching the coal
+black mane of his gallant Mecklenberg. Twice he glanced back to see who
+followed, but the volume of dust which rolled after him obscured all
+behind. He could hear the far-off hammer of hoofs, but this, mingling
+with the noise of his own horse, confused him as to the number of
+pursuers. He reasoned that he was well out of range, for there came no
+report of firearms. The road presently described a semi-circle, passing
+through a meager orchard. Once beyond this he turned again in the
+saddle.
+
+"Only one; that is not so bad as it might be. It is one to one." But a
+second glance told him who this solitary pursuer was. "The devil!" he
+laughed--as one of Tasso's heroes might have laughed!--"The devil! how
+that man loves me!" He was confident that the white horse would never
+overtake the black.
+
+On they flew, pursued and pursuer. At length Maurice bit his lip and
+frowned. The white horse was growing larger; the distance between was
+lessening, slowly but certainly.
+
+"Good boy!" he said encouragingly to the Mecklenberg. "Good boy!"
+
+Deserted farm houses swept past; hills rose and vanished, but still the
+white horse crept up, up, up. The distance ere another half mile had
+gone had diminished to four hundred yards; from four hundred it fell to
+three hundred, from three hundred to two hundred. The Mecklenburg was
+doing glorious work, but the marvelous stride of the animal in the
+rear was matchless. Suddenly Maurice saw a tuft of the red plume on his
+helmet spring out ahead of him and sail away, and a second later came
+the report. One, he counted; four more were to follow. Next a stream of
+fire gassed along his cheek, and something warm trickled down the side
+of his neck. Two, he counted, his face now pale and set. The third
+knocked his scabbard into the air.
+
+Quickly he shifted his saber to the left, dropped the reins and drew his
+own revolver. He understood. He was not to be taken prisoner. Beauvais
+intended to kill him offhand. Only the dead keep secrets. Maurice flung
+about and fired three consecutive times. The white horse reared, and the
+shako of his master fell into the dust, but there was no other result.
+As Maurice pressed the trigger for the fourth time the revolver was
+violently wrenched from his hand, and a thousand needles seemed to be
+quivering in the flesh of his arm and hand.
+
+"My God, what a shot!" he murmured. "I am lost!"
+
+Simultaneous with the fifth and last shot came sensation somewhat like
+that caused by a sound blow in the middle of the back. Strange, but
+he felt no pain, neither was there an accompanying numbness. Then he
+remembered his cuirass, which was of steel an eighth of an inch thick.
+It had saved his life. The needles began to leave his right hand and
+arm, and he knew that he had received no injury other than a shock. He
+passed the saber back to his right hand. He had no difficulty in holding
+it. Gradually his grip grew strong and steady.
+
+Beauvais was now within twenty yards of Maurice. Had he been less eager
+and held his fire up to this point, Maurice had been a dead man. The
+white horse gained every moment. A dull fury grew into life in Maurice's
+heart. Instead of continuing the race, he brought the Mecklenberg to his
+haunches and wheeled. He made straight for Beauvais, who was surprised
+at this change of tactics. In the rush they passed each other and the
+steel hummed spitefully through space. Both wheeled again.
+
+"Your life or mine!" snarled Maurice. His coolness, however, was
+proportionate to his rage. For the first time in his life the lust to
+kill seized him.
+
+"It shall be yours, damn you!" replied Beauvais.
+
+"The Austrian ambassador has your history; kill me or not, you are
+lost." Maurice made a sweep at his enemy's head and missed.
+
+Beauvais replied in kind, and it flashed viciously off the point of
+Maurice's saber. He had only his life to lose, but it had suddenly
+become precious to him; Beauvais had not only his life, but all that
+made life worth living. His onslaught was terrible. Besides, he was
+fighting against odds; he wore no steel protector. Maurice wore his only
+a moment longer. A cut in the side severed the lacings, and the sagging
+of the cuirass greatly handicapped him. He pressed the spurs and dashed
+away, while Beauvais cursed him for a cowardly cur. Maurice, by this
+maneuver, gained sufficient time to rid himself of the cumbersome steel.
+What he lost in protection, he gained in lightness and freedom. Shortly
+Beauvais was at him again. The time for banter had passed; they fought
+grimly and silently. The end for one was death. Beauvais knew that if
+his antagonist escaped this time the life he longed for, the power and
+honor it promised, would never be his. On his side, Maurice was equally
+determined to live.
+
+The horses plunged and snorted, reared and swayed and bit. Sometimes
+they carried their masters several yards apart, only to come smashing
+together again.
+
+The sun was going down, and a clear, white light prevailed. Afar in
+the field a herd was grazing, but no one would call them to the sheds.
+Master and mistress had long since taken flight.
+
+The duel went on. Maurice was growing tired. By and by he began to rely
+solely on the defense. When they were close, Beauvais played for the
+point; the moment the space widened he took to the edge. He saw what
+Maurice felt--the weakening, and he indulged in a cruel smile. They
+came close; he made as though to give the point. Maurice, thinking
+to anticipate, reached. Quick as light Beauvais raised his blade and
+brought it down with crushing force, standing the while in the stirrups.
+The blow missed Maurice's head by an inch, but it sank so deeply in his
+left shoulder that it splintered the collar bone and stopped within a
+hair of the great artery that runs underneath.
+
+The world turned red, then black. When it grew light again Maurice
+beheld the dripping blade swinging aloft again. Suddenly the black horse
+snapped at the white, which veered. The stroke which would have split
+Maurice's skull in twain, fell on the rear of the saddle, and the blade
+was so firmly imbedded in the wooden molding that Beauvais could not
+withdraw it at once. Blinded by pain as he was, and fainting, yet
+Maurice saw his chance. He thrust with all his remaining strength at
+the brown throat so near him. And the blade went true. The other's body
+stiffened, his head flew back, his eyes started; he clutched wildly at
+the steel, but his hands had not the power to reach it. A bloody foam
+gushed between his lips; his mouth opened; he swayed, and finally
+tumbled into the road--dead.
+
+As Maurice gazed down at him, between the dead eyes and his own there
+passed a vision of a dark-skinned girl, who, if still living, dwelt in a
+lonely convent, thousands of miles away.
+
+Maurice was sensible of but little pain; a pleasant numbness began to
+steal over him. His sleeve was soaked, his left hand was red, and the
+blood dripped from his fingers and made round black spots in the dust of
+the road. A circle of this blackness was widening about the head of the
+fallen man. Maurice watched it, fascinated... He was dead, and the fact
+that he was a prince did not matter.
+
+It seemed to Maurice that his own body was transforming into lead, and
+he vaguely wondered how the horse could bear up such a weight. He was
+sleepy, too. Dimly it came to him that he also must be dying.... No;
+he would not die there, beside this man. He still gripped his saber.
+Indeed, his hand was as if soldered to the wire and leather windings on
+the hilt. Mollendorf had said that Beauvais was invincible.... Beauvais
+was dead. Was he, too, dying?... No; he would not die there. The
+Mecklenberg started forward at a walk; a spur had touched him.
+
+"No!" Maurice cried, throwing off the drowsiness. "My God, I will not
+die here!... Go, boy!" The Mecklenberg set off, loping easily.
+
+His recent enemy, the great white horse, stood motionless in the center
+of the road, and followed him with large, inquiring eyes. He turned
+and looked at the silent huddled mass in the dust at his feet, and
+whinneyed. But he did not move; a foot still remained in the stirrup.
+
+Soon Maurice remembered an episode of his school days, when, in the
+spirit of precocious research, he had applied carbolic acid to his arm.
+It occurred to him that he was now being bathed in that burning fluid.
+He was recovering from the shock. With returning sense came the increase
+of pain, pain so tormenting and exquisite that sobs rose in his throat
+and choked him. Perspiration matted his hair; every breath he took was
+a knife thrust, and the rise and fall of the horse, gentle as it was,
+caused the earth to reel and careen heavenward.
+
+Bleiberg; he was to reach Bleiberg. He repeated this thought over and
+over. Bleiberg, to warn her. Why should he go to Bleiberg to warn her?
+What was he doing here, he who loved life so well? What had led him into
+this?... There had been a battle, but neither army had been cognizant
+of it. He endeavored to move his injured arm, and found it bereft of
+locomotion. The tendons had been cut. And he could not loosen his grip
+on the saber which he held in his right hand. The bridle rein swung from
+side to side.
+
+Rivulets of fire began to run up and down his side; the cords in his
+neck were stiffening. Still the blood went drip, drip, drip, into the
+dust. Would he reach Bleiberg, or would he die on the way? God! for a
+drink of water, cold water. He set his teeth in his lips to neutralize
+the pain in his arm and shoulder. His lips were numb, and the pressure
+of his teeth was as nothing. From one moment to the next he expected
+to drop from the saddle, but somehow he hung on; the spark of life was
+tenacious. The saber dangled on one side, the scabbard on the other. The
+blood, drying in places, drew the skin as tight as a drumhead.
+
+On, on, on; up long inclines, down the steeps; he lost all track
+of time, and the darkness thickened and the stars stood out more
+clearly.... He could look back on a clean life; true, there were some
+small stains, but these were human. Strange fancies jostled one another;
+faces long forgot reappeared; scenes from boyhood rose before him. Home!
+He had none, save that which was the length and breadth of his native
+land. On, on, on; the low snuffle of the horse sometimes aroused him
+from the stupor.
+
+"Why you do this I do not know, nor shall I ask. Monsieur, my prayers
+go with you!"... She had said that to him, and had given him her hand to
+kiss; a princess, one of the chosen and the few. To live long enough to
+see her again; a final service--and adieu!... Ah, but it had been a good
+fight, a good fight. No fine phrases; nothing but the lust for blood;
+a life for a life; a game in which the winner was also like to lose. A
+gray patch in the white of the road attracted his attention--a bridge.
+
+"Water!" he murmured.
+
+Mottled with the silver of the stars, it ran along through the fields;
+a brook, shallow and narrow, but water. The perfume of the grasses was
+sweet; the horse sniffed joyously. He stopped of his own accord. Maurice
+had strength enough to dismount. The saber slid from his grasp. He
+staggered down to the water. In kneeling a faintness passed over him; he
+rolled into the brook and lay there until the water, almost clogging his
+throat and nostrils, revived him. He crawled to his knees, coughing
+and choking. The contact of the cold with the burning wound caused a
+delightful sensation.
+
+"Water!" he said, and splashed it in his face.
+
+The horse had come down from the road. He had not waited for an
+invitation. He drank thirstily at the side of his master. The water
+gurgled in his long, black throat.
+
+"Good boy!" Maurice called, and dashed water against his shoulder. "Good
+boy!" he remembered that the horse in biting the white one had saved his
+life.
+
+Each handful of the cold liquid caused him to gasp; but soon the fever
+and fire died out, leaving only the duller pain. When he rose from his
+knees, however, he found that the world had not yet ceased its wild
+reeling. He stooped to regain his saber, and fell into the dust; though
+to him it was not he who fell, but the earth which rose. He struggled to
+his feet, leaned panting on his saber, and tried to steady himself. He
+laughed hysterically. He had dismounted, but he knew that he could never
+climb to the back of the horse; and Bleiberg might yet be miles away. To
+walk the distance; was it possible? To reach Bleiberg before Madame....
+Madame the duchess and her army! He laughed again, but there was a wild
+strain in his laughter. Ah, God! what a farce it was! One man dead and
+another dying; the beginning and the end of the war. The comic opera!
+La Grande Duchesse! And the fool of an Englishman was playing Fritz! He
+started down the road, his body slouched forward, the saber trailing in
+the dust....
+
+"Voici le sabre de mon pere!"
+
+The hand of madness had touched him. The Mecklenberg followed at his
+heels as a dog would have followed his master.
+
+Less than a mile away a yellow haze wavered in the sky. It was the
+reflection of the city lights.
+
+Maurice passed under the town gates, the wild song on his lips, his eyes
+bloodshot, his hair dank about his brow, conscious of nothing but the
+mad, rollicking rhythm. Nobody molested him; those he met gave him the
+full width of the road. A strange picture they presented, the man and
+the troop horse. Some one recognized the trappings of the horse; half
+an hour later it was known throughout the city that the king's army
+had been defeated and that Madame was approaching. Students began
+their depredations. They built bonfires. They raided the office of the
+official paper, and destroyed the presses and type. Later they marched
+around the Hohenstaufenplatz, yelling and singing.
+
+Once a gendarme tried to stop Maurice and inquire into his business.
+The inquisition was abruptly ended by a cut from the madman's sword.
+The gendarme took to his legs. Maurice continued, and the Mecklenberg
+tramped on after him. Into the Konigstrasse they turned. At this time,
+before the news was known, the street was deserted. Up the center of
+it the man went, his saber scraping along the asphalt, the horse always
+following.
+
+
+
+Voici le sabre de mon pere! Tu vas le mettre a ton cote! Apres la
+victoire, j'espere Te revoir en bonne sante.....
+
+The street lamps swayed; sometimes a dozen revolved on one post, and
+Maurice would stop long enough to laugh. How easy it was to walk! All
+he had to do was to lift a foot, and the pavement would rise to meet it.
+The moon, standing high behind him, cast a long, weird shadow, and he
+staggered after it and cut at it with the saber. It was only when he saw
+the lights of the royal palace and the great globes on the gate posts
+that sanity returned. This sanity was of short duration.
+
+"To the palace!" he cried; "to the palace! To warn her!" And he stumbled
+against the gates, still calling, "To the palace! To the palace!"
+
+The cuirassiers who had been left behind to protect the inmates of the
+palace, were first aroused by the yelling and singing of the students.
+They rushed out of the guard room and came running to the gates, which
+they opened. The body of a man rolled inside. They stopped and examined
+him; the uniform was theirs. The face they looked into was that of the
+handsome young foreigner who, that day, had gone forth from the city, a
+gay and gallant figure, who sat his horse so well that he earned their
+admiration. What could this mean? And where were the others? Had there
+been a desperate battle?
+
+"Run back to the guard room, one of you, and fetch some brandy. He
+lives." And Lieutenant Scharfenstein took his hand from the insensible
+man's heart. Pulsation was there, but weak and intermittent. "Sergeant,
+take ten men and clear the square. If they refuse to leave, kill! Madame
+is not yet queen by any means."
+
+The men scattered. One soon returned with the brandy. Scharfenstein
+moistened the wounded man's lips and placed his palm under the nose.
+Shortly Maurice opened his eyes, his half-delirious eyes.
+
+"To the palace!" he said, "to the palace--Ah!" He saw the faces staring
+down at him. He struggled. Instinctively they all stood back. What
+seemed incredible to them, he got to his knees, from his knees to his
+feet, and propped himself against a gate post. "Your life or mine!"
+he cried. "Come on; a man can die but once!" He lunged, and again they
+retreated. He laughed. "It was a good fight!" He reeled off toward the
+palace steps. They did not hinder him, but they followed, expecting
+each moment to see him fall. But, he fell not. One by one he mounted
+the steps, steadying himself with the saber. He gained the landing, once
+more steadied himself, and vanished into the palace.
+
+"He is out of his head!" cried Scharfenstein, rushing up the steps. "God
+knows what has happened!"
+
+He was in time to see Maurice lurch into the arms of Captain von Mitter,
+who had barred the way to the private apartments.
+
+"Carewe!... What has happened? God's name, you are soaked in blood!" Von
+Mitter held Maurice at arm's length. "A battle?"
+
+"Aye, a battle; one man is dead and another soon will be!" A transient
+lucidity beamed in Maurice's eyes. "We were betrayed by the native
+troops; they ran to meet Madame.... Marshal Kampf, Prince Frederick, and
+the cuirassiers are prisoners.... I escaped. Beauvais, gave chase....
+Wanted to kill me.... He gave me this. I ran him through the throat....
+Knew him in South America.... He's dead! Inform the archbishop and her
+Highness that Madame is nearing the city. The king--"
+
+"Hush!" said von Mitter, with a finger on his lip; "hush! The king died
+at six o'clock. God rest his soul!" He crossed himself. "A disgraceful
+day! Curse the scheming woman, could she not let us bury him in peace?
+Prince Frederick's father refused to send us aid."
+
+"I am dying," said Maurice with a sob. "Let me lie down somewhere; if I
+fall I am a dead man." After a pause: "Take me into the throne room. I
+shall last till Madame comes. Let her find me there.... The brandy!"
+
+Scharfenstein held the flask to the sufferer's lips.
+
+"The throne room?" repeated von Mitter, surprised at this strange
+request. "Well, why not? For what is a throne when there is no king to
+sit on it? You will not die, my friend, though the cut is a nasty one.
+What is an arm? Life is worth a thousand of them! Quick! help me with
+him, Max!" for Maurice was reaching blindly toward him.
+
+The three troopers who had followed Scharfenstein came up, and the five
+of them managed to carry Maurice into the throne room, and deposit him
+on the cushions at the foot of the dais. There they left him.
+
+"Bad!" said von Mitter, as he came limping out into the corridor. "And
+he made such a brave show when he left here this afternoon. I have grown
+to love the fellow. A gallant man. I knew that the native troops were up
+to something. So did the Colonel. Ach! I would give a year of my life
+to have seen him and Beauvais. To kill Beauvais, the best saber in the
+kingdom--it must have been a fight worthy of the legends. A bad day!
+They will laugh at us. But, patience, the archbishop has something to
+say before the curtain falls. Poor young man! He will lose his arm, if
+not his life."
+
+"But how comes he into all this?" asked Scharfenstein, perplexedly.
+
+"It is not for me or you to question, Max," said von Mitter, looking
+down. He had his own opinion, but he was not minded to disclose it.
+
+"What are you going to do?"
+
+"Perform my duty until the end," sourly. "Go you and help against the
+students, who have not manliness enough even to respect the dead. The
+cowardly servants are all gone; save the king's valet. There are only
+seven of us in all. I will seek the king's physician; the dead are dead,
+so let us concern ourselves with the living;" and he limped off toward
+the private apartments.
+
+Scharfenstein hurried away to the square.
+
+In the royal bedchamber a girl murmured over a cold hand. "God pity me;
+I am all, all alone!"
+
+The archbishop was kneeling at the foot of the bed. In his heart was the
+bitterness of loss and defeat. His dreams of greatness for this clay!
+The worldly pomp which was to have attended it! Life was but a warm
+breath on the mirror of eternity; for one the mirror was clear again.
+
+The square soon grew quiet; the students and the cuirassiers had met for
+the last time. In the throne room shadows and silence prevailed.
+Maurice lay upon the cushions, the hilt of the saber still in his hand.
+Consciousness had returned, a clear, penetrating consciousness. At the
+foot of the throne, he thought, and, mayhap, close to one not visible
+to the human eye! What a checkerboard he had moved upon, and now the
+checkmate! So long as the pain did not diminish, he was content; a
+sudden ease was what he dreaded. Life was struggling to retain its hold.
+He did not wish to die; he was young; there were long years to come; the
+world was beautiful, and to love was the glory over it all. He wondered
+if Beauvais still lay in the road where he had left him. Again he could
+see that red saber swinging high; and he shivered.
+
+Half an hour passed, then came the distant murmur of voices, which
+expanded into tumult. The victorious army, the brave and gallant army,
+had entered the city, and was streaming toward the palaces. Huzzas rose
+amid the blaring of bugles. The timorous came forth and added to the
+noise. The conquerors trooped into the palace, and Madame the duchess
+looked with shining eyes at the throne of her forefathers.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII. WORMWOOD AND LEES
+
+Madame, like a statue of expectancy, riveted her gaze on the throne.
+Hers at last! Her dreams were realized. She was no longer a duchess by
+patent; she was a queen by right of inheritance; she was now to be a
+power among the great. The kingdom of her forefathers was hers. She had
+reached the goal without bloodshed; she had been patient, and this was
+her reward. The blaze of her ambition dimmed all other stars. Her bosom
+heaved, triumph flashed in her beautiful eyes, and a smile parted
+her lips. Her first thought had been to establish headquarters in
+the parlors of the Continental Hotel, and from there to summon the
+archbishop, as a conqueror summons the chief of the vanquished. But no;
+she could not wait; above all things she desired the satisfaction of the
+eye. The throne of her forefathers!
+
+"Mine!" she murmured.
+
+Over her shoulders peered eager faces, in which greed and pleasure and
+impassibility were written. One face, however, had on it the dull red of
+shame. Not until now did the full force of his intended dishonesty
+come home to the Englishman; not until now did he realize the complete
+degradation to which his uniform had lowered him. His had been the hand
+to stay this misfortune, and he had not lifted it. This king had been
+his father's friend; and he had taken up arms against him. O, he had
+begun life badly; he was making the end still more dismal. Would this
+woman ever be his? Her promises were not worth the air that had carried
+them to his ear. He, the consort of a queen? A cold sweat dampened his
+forehead. How he loved her! And that kiss.... Queen or not, he would not
+be her dupe, his would not be a tame surrender.
+
+From the Platz and the Park, where the two armies had bivouacked, came
+an intermittent cheering. The flames of bonfires were reflected on the
+windows, throwing out in dull, yellow relief the faces of Madame and her
+staff.
+
+Between the private apartments of the king and the throne room was
+a wide sliding door. Suddenly this opened and closed. With his back
+against it, a pistol in one hand and a saber in the other, stood Captain
+von Mitter, his face cold and resolute. All eyes were instantly directed
+toward him.
+
+"Captain," said Madame, imperiously, "summon to me Monseigneur the
+archbishop!"
+
+Her command fell on ears of stone. Von Mitter made no sign that he heard
+her.
+
+"Take care, Monsieur," she warned; "I am mistress here. If you will not
+obey me, my officers will."
+
+"Madame, I acknowledge no mistress save the daughter of the king. No one
+shall pass this door to announce your presence to Monseigneur."
+
+This reply was greeted with sundry noises, such as sabers coming from
+scabbards, clicking of pistol locks, and the moving of feet. Madame
+put out her hand suggestively, and the noise ceased. Von Mitter smiled
+disdainfully, but did not stir.
+
+"I warn you, Madame," he said, "that this is war. I accept all the
+responsibilities of my position. I know nothing of any surrender or
+victory. To me you are simply an enemy. I will kill any one who attempts
+to pass. I should be pleased if General Kronau would make the first step
+to question my sincerity."
+
+Kronau's fingers twitched around his revolver, but Madame touched his
+arm. She could read faces. The young Captain was in earnest. She would
+temporize.
+
+"Captain, all here are prisoners of war," she said. "Do not forget that
+soon there will be benefits for those who serve me."
+
+He laughed rudely. "I ask no benefits from your hands, Madame. I would
+rather stand on the corner and beg." He sent an insolent, contemptuous
+glance at Kronau, who could not support it. "And now that you have
+gratified your curiosity, I beg you to withdraw to the street. To-night
+this palace is a tomb, and woe to those who commit sacrilege."
+
+"The king?" she said, struck by a thought which caused a red spot to
+appear on each cheek.
+
+"Is dead. Go and leave us in peace."
+
+The wine which had tasted so sweet was full of lees, and the cup
+wormwood. Madame looked down, while her officers moved uneasily and
+glanced over their shoulders. Kronau brushed his forehead, to find it
+wet. Madame regretted the surrendering to the impulse. Her haste to
+triumph was lacking both in dignity and judgment. She had given the king
+so little place in her thoughts that the shock of his death confused
+her. And there was something in the calm, fearless contempt of the young
+soldier which embarrassed her.
+
+"In that case, Captain," she said, her voice uncertain and constrained,
+"bid Monseigneur to wait on me at the Continental."
+
+"Whenever that becomes convenient, Madame, Monseigneur will certainly
+confer with you and your rascally pack of officers." He longed for some
+one to spring at him; he longed to strike a blow in earnest.
+
+As he leaned against the door he felt it move. He stepped aside.
+The door rolled back, and her Royal Highness, the archbishop and the
+chancellor passed in. The princess's eyes were like dim stars, but
+her fine nostrils palpitated, and her mouth was rigid in disdain. The
+chancellor looked haggard and dispirited, and he eyed all with the
+listlessness of a man who has given up hope. The prelate's face was as
+finely drawn as an ancient cameo, and as immobile. He gazed at Madame
+with one of those looks which penetrate like acid; and, brave as she
+was, she found it insupportable. There was a tableau of short duration.
+
+"Madame," said her Royal Highness, with a noble scorn, "what would you
+say if one desecrated your father's tomb while you were kneeling beside
+it? What would you say? In yonder room my father lies dead, and your
+presence here, in whatever role, is an insult. Are you, indeed, a woman?
+Have you no respect for death and sorrow? Was the bauble so precious to
+your sight that you could not wait till the last rites were paid to
+the dead? Is your heart of stone, your mind devoid of pity and of
+conscience? Are you lacking in magnanimity, which is the disposition of
+great souls? Ah, Madame, you will never be great, for you have stooped
+to treachery and deceit. You, a princess! You have purchased with
+glittering promises that which in time would have been given to you.
+And you will not fulfill these promises, for honesty has no part in your
+affair. Shame on you, Madame. By dishonorable means you have gained this
+room. By dishonorable means you destroyed all those props on which my
+father leaned. You knew that he had not long to live. Had you come to
+me as a woman; had you opened your heart to me and confided your
+desires--Ah, Madame, how gladly would I have listened. Whatever it
+signifies to you, this throne is nothing to me. Had you come then--but,
+no! you must come to demand your rights when I am defenseless. You must
+come with a sword when there is none to defend. Is it possible that in
+our veins there runs a kindred blood? And yet, Madame, I forgive you.
+Rule here, if you will; but remember, between you and your crown
+there will always be the shadow of disgrace. Monsieur," turning toward
+Fitzgerald, whose shame was so great that it engulfed him, "your father
+and mine were friends--I forgive you. Now, Madame, I pray you, go, and
+leave me with my dead."
+
+The girlhood of Princess Alexia was gone forever.
+
+To Madame this rebuke was like hot iron on the flesh. It left her
+without answer. Her proud spirit writhed. Before those innocent eyes her
+soul lay bare, offering to the gaze an ineffaceable scar. For the
+first time she saw her schemes in their true light. Had any served her
+unselfishly? Aye, there was one. And strangely enough, the first thought
+which formed in her mind when chaos was passed, was of him.
+
+How would this rebuke affect her in his eyes? What was he to her that
+she cared for his respect, his opinion, good or bad? What was the
+meaning of the secret dread? How she hated him for his honesty to her;
+for now perforce she must look up to him. She had stepped down from
+the pinnacle of her pride to which she might never again ascend. He
+had kissed her. How she hated him! And yet... Ah, the wine was flat,
+tinctured with the bitterness of gall, and her own greed had forced the
+cup to her lips. She could not remain silent before this girl; she must
+reply; her shame was too deep to resolve itself into silence.
+
+"Mademoiselle," she said, "I beg of you to accept my sympathies; but the
+fortunes of war--"
+
+"Ah, Madame," interrupted the prelate, lifting his white, attenuated
+hand, "we will discuss the fortunes of war--later."
+
+Madame choked back the sudden gust of rage. She glanced covertly at the
+Englishman. But he, with wide-astonished eyes, was staring at the foot
+of the throne, from which gradually rose a terrible figure, covered with
+blood and caked with drying clay. The figure leaned heavily on the hilt
+of a saber, and swayed unsteadily. He drew all eyes.
+
+"Ha!" he said, with a prolonged, sardonic intonation, "is that you,
+Madame the duchess? You are talking of war? What! and you, my lord the
+Englishman? Ha! and war? Look at me, Madame; I have been in a battle,
+the only one fought to-day. Look at me! Here is the mark of that friend
+who watched over your interests. But where is he? Eh? Where? Did you
+pick him up on the way?.... He is dead. For all that he was a rascal,
+he died like a man... .. as presently I shall die! Princes and kings and
+thrones; the one die and the other crumble, but truth lives on. And you,
+Madame, have learned the truth. Shame on your mean and little souls!
+There was only one honest man among you, and you dishonored him. The
+Marshal... I do not see him. An honest man dies but once, but a traitor
+dies a thousand deaths. Kronau... is that your name? It was an
+honest one once. And the paltry ends you gain!.... The grand duchess
+of Gerolstein!.... What a comic opera! Not even music to go by! Eh,
+you,--you Englishman, has Madame made you a Lieutenant?--a Captain?--a
+General? What a farce! Nobles, you? I laugh at you all for a pack of
+thieves, who are not content with the purse, but must add honor to the
+bag. A man is what he makes himself. Medals and clothes, medals and
+clothes; that is the sum of your nobility!" He laughed, but the laughter
+choked in his throat, and he staggered a few paces away from the throne.
+
+"Seize him!" cried Madame.
+
+When the men sprang forward to execute this command, Fitzgerald barred
+the way.
+
+"No," he said doggedly; "you shall not touch him."
+
+"Stand aside, Monsieur," said Madame, determined to vent her rage on
+some one.
+
+"Madame," said von Mitter, "I will shoot down the first man who lays a
+hand on Monsieur Carewe."
+
+The princess, her heart beating wildly at the sudden knowledge that lay
+written on the inner vision, a faintness stealing away her sight, leaned
+back against the prelate.
+
+"He is dying," she whispered; "he is dying for me!"
+
+Maurice was now in the grasp of the final delirium. "Come on!" he cried;
+"come on! I will show you how a brave man can die. Come on, Messieurs
+Medals and Clothes! Aye, who will go out with me?" He raised the saber,
+and it caught the flickering light as it trailed a circle above his
+head. He stumbled toward them, sweeping the air with the blade. Suddenly
+there came a change. He stopped. The wild expression faded from his
+face; a surprised look came instead. The saber slipped from his fingers
+and clanged on the floor. He turned and looked at the princess, and that
+glance conveyed to her the burden of his love. "Mademoiselle...." His
+knees doubled, he sank, rolled face downward, and a dark stain appeared
+and widened on the marble floor.
+
+"Go, Madame," said the prelate. "This palace is indeed a tomb." He felt
+the princess grow limp on his arm. "Go."
+
+"Maurice!" cried Fitzgerald, springing to the side of the fallen man.
+"My God! Maurice!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII. INTO THE HANDS OF AUSTRIA
+
+Madame, surrounded by her staff and courtiers, sat in the main salon
+of the Continental Hotel, waiting for the archbishop. The false,
+self-seeking ministers of Leopold's reign crowded around her to pay
+their respects, to compliment and to flatter her. Already they saw a
+brilliant court; already they were speculating on their appointments.
+Offices were plenty; new embassies were to be created, old embassies to
+be filled anew.
+
+Madame listened to all coldly. There was a canker in her heart, and no
+one who saw that calm, beautiful face of hers dreamed how deeply the
+canker was eating. There were two men who held aloof from compliments
+and flattery. On the face of one rested a moody scowl; on the other,
+agony and remorse. These two men were Colonel Mollendorf and Lord
+Fitzgerald. The same thought occupied each mind; the scene in the throne
+room.
+
+Presently an orderly announced: "Monseigneur the archbishop."
+
+Madame arose, and all looked expectantly, toward the door.
+
+The old prelate entered, his head high and his step firm. He appeared
+to see no one but Madame. But this time she met his glance without a
+tremor.
+
+"Monseigneur," she began, "I have come into my own at last. But for you
+and your ambitious schemes, all this would not have come to pass. You
+robbed my father of his throne and set your puppet there instead. By
+trickery my father was robbed of his lawful inheritance. By trickery I
+was compelled to regain it. However, I do not wish to make an enemy of
+you, Monseigneur. I have here two letters. They come from Rome. In one
+is your recall, in the other a cardinal's hat. Which do you prefer?"
+
+"Surely not the cardinal's hat," said the prelate. "Listen to me,
+Madame, for I have something to say to you which will cause you some
+reflection. If I had any ambitions, they are gone; if I had any dreams,
+they have vanished. Madame, some twenty years ago your duchy was
+created. It was not done to please Albrecht's younger brother, the duke,
+your father. Albrecht was childless. When your father was given the
+duchy it was done to exclude forever the house of Auersperg from
+reigning on this throne. You say that you were tricked; well, and so was
+I. Unhappily I touched the deeper current too late.
+
+"This poor king, who lies silent in the palace, was not my puppet.
+I wished to make him great, and bask in his greatness. But in that I
+failed; because Leopold was a poet and a philosopher, and the greatness
+of earthly things did not concern him. Leopold and I were dupes of
+Austria, as you are at this moment, Madame. So long as Leopold reigned
+peacefully he was not to be disturbed. Had you shown patience and
+resignation, doubtless to-day you would be a queen. You will never be
+more than a duchess.
+
+"Madame, you have done exactly as Austria intended you should. There
+is no longer any kingdom." There was a subdued triumph in his eyes. "To
+you," with a gesture toward the courtiers and office-seekers, "to you I
+shall say, your own blind self-interest has destroyed you. Madame, you
+are bearing arms not against this kingdom, but against Austria, since
+from to-day this land becomes the property of the imperial crown. If you
+struggle, it will be futilely. For, by this move of yours, Austria
+will declare that this kingdom is a menace to the tranquility of the
+confederation. Madame, there is no corner-stone to your edifice. This is
+what I wished to say to you. I have done. Permit me to withdraw."
+
+For a moment his auditors were spellbound; then all the emotions of the
+mind and heart portrayed themselves on the circle of faces. Madame's
+face alone was inscrutable.
+
+"His Excellency, the Austrian ambassador!" announced the orderly.
+
+The archbishop bowed and left the apartment.
+
+"Your Highness," began the Austrian, "his Imperial Majesty commands your
+immediate evacuation of Bleiberg, and that you delay not your departure
+to the frontier. This kingdom is a crown land. It shall remain so by the
+consent of the confederation. If you refuse to obey this injunction,
+an army will enforce the order. Believe me, Madame, this office is
+distasteful to me, but it was not avoidable. What disposition am I to
+submit to his Majesty?"
+
+"Monsieur," she said, "I am without choice in the matter. To pit my
+forces against the emperor's would be neither politic nor sensible. I
+submit." There was not a sign of any emotion, no hint of the terrible
+wrath which lay below the surface of those politely modulated tones. But
+it seemed to her as she stood there, the object of all eyes, that some
+part of her soul had died. Her pride surmounted the humiliation, the
+pride of a woman and a princess. She would show no weakness to the
+world.
+
+"Then, Madame," said the ambassador, suppressing the admiration in his
+eyes at this evidence of royal nonchalance, "I shall inform his Majesty
+at once."
+
+When he had gone, Madame turned coldly to her stricken followers.
+"Messieurs, the fortunes of war are not on our side. I thank you for
+your services. Now leave me; I wish to be alone."
+
+One by one they filed out into the corridors. The orderly was the last
+to leave, and he closed the door behind him. Madame surveyed the room.
+All the curtains were drawn. She was alone. She stood idly fingering the
+papers which lay scattered on the table. Suddenly she lifted her hands
+above her head and clenched them in a burst of silent rage. A dupe!
+doubly a dupe! To-morrow the whole world would laugh at her, and she was
+without means of wreaking vengeance. Presently the woman rose above the
+princess. She sat down, laid her face on her arms and wept.
+
+Fitzgerald stepped from behind one of the curtains. He had taken refuge
+there during the archbishop's speech. He had not the strength to witness
+the final humiliation of the woman he loved. He was gazing out of the
+window at the troops in the Platz when the door closed.
+
+Madame heard the rustle of the curtain and looked up. She sprang to her
+feet, her eyes blazing.
+
+"You?" she cried. "You? You have dared to hide that you might witness my
+weakness and my tears? You...."
+
+"Madame!"
+
+"Go! I hate you!"
+
+"Ah, Madame, we always hate those whom we have wronged. Do not forget
+that I love you, with a love that passes convention."
+
+"Monsieur, I am yet a princess. Did you not hear me bid you go?"
+
+"Why?" in a voice singularly free from agitation. "Because I am the only
+man who has served you unselfishly? Is that the reason, Madame? You have
+laughed at me. I love you. You have broken me. I love you. I can never
+look an honest man in the face again. I love you. Though the shade of
+my father should rise to accuse me, still would I say that I love you.
+Madame, will you find another love like mine, the first love of a man
+who will know no second? Forgive me if I rejoice in your despair, for
+your despair is my hope. As a queen you would be too far away; but in
+your misfortune you come so near! Madame, I shall follow you wherever
+you go to tell you that I love you. You will never be able to shut your
+ears to my voice; far or near, you will always hear me saying that I
+love you. Ambition soars but a little way; love has no fetters. Madame,
+your lips were given to me. Can you forget that?"
+
+"Monsieur, what do you wish?" subdued by the fervor of his tones.
+
+"You! nothing in the world but you."
+
+"Princesses such as I am do not wed for love. What! you take advantage
+of my misfortune, the shattering of my dreams, to force your love upon
+me?"
+
+"Madame," the pride of his race lighting his eyes, "confess to me that
+you did not win my love to play with it. If my heart was necessary to
+your happiness, which lay in these shattered dreams, tell me, and I will
+go. My love is so great that it does not lack generosity."
+
+For reply she sorted the papers and extended a blood-stained packet
+toward him. "Here, Monsieur, are your consols." But the moment his hand
+touched them, she made as though to take them back. On the top of
+the packet was the letter she had written to him, and on which he had
+written his scornful reply to her. She paled as she saw him unfold it.
+
+"So, Madame, my love was a pastime?" He came close to her, and his look
+was like an invisible hand bearing down on her. "Madame, I will go."
+
+"No, no!" she cried, yielding to the impulse which suddenly laid hold
+of her. "Not you! You shall not misjudge me. No, not you! Those consols
+were given to me by the woman of your guide, Kopf, who found them no one
+knows how. They were given to me this morning. That letter..... I did
+not intend that you should see it. No, Monsieur; you shall not misjudge
+the woman, however you judge the princess. Forgive me, it was not the
+woman who sought your love; it was the princess who had need of it.
+
+"I thought it would be but a passing fancy. I did not dream of this end.
+To-morrow I shall be laughed at, and I cannot defend myself as a man
+can. I must submit; I must smile and cover my chagrin. O, Monsieur,
+do not speak to me of love; there is nothing in my heart but rage and
+bitterness. To stoop as I have stooped, and in vain! I am defeated; I
+must remain passive; like a whipped child I am driven away. Talk not of
+love to me. I am without illusion." She fell to weeping, and to him she
+was lovelier in her tears than ever in her smiles. For would she have
+shown this weakness to any but himself, and was it not a sign that he
+was not wholly indifferent to her?
+
+"Madame, what is it?" he cried, on his knees before her. "What is it? Do
+you wish a crown? Find me a kingdom, and I will buy it for you. Be mine,
+and woe to those who dare to laugh! Ah, could I but convince you that
+love is above crowns and kingdoms, the only glimpse we have on earth
+of Paradise. There is no boundary to the dreams; no horizons; a vast,
+beautiful wilderness, and you and I together. There are no storms, no
+clouds. Ambition, the god of schemes, finds no entrance. Ah, how I love
+you! Your face is ever before me, waking or sleeping. All thoughts
+are merged into one, and that is of you. Self has dropped out of my
+existence. Forget that you are a princess; remember only that you are a
+woman, and that I love you."
+
+Love has the key to eloquence. Madame forgot her vanished dreams; the
+bitterness in her heart subsided. That mysterious, indefinable thrill,
+which every woman experiences when a boundless love is laid at her feet,
+passed through her, leaving her sensible to a delicious languor. This
+man was strong in himself, yet weak before her, and from his weakness
+she gained a visible strength. Convention was nothing to him; that she
+was of royal blood was still less. What other man would have dared her
+wrath as he had done?
+
+Nobility, she thought, was based on the observance of certain laws.
+Around the central star were lesser stars, from which the central star
+drew its radiance. Whenever one of these stars deviates from its orbit,
+the glory of the central star is diminished. To accept the love of the
+Englishman would be a blow to the pride of Austria. She smiled.
+
+"Monsieur," she said, in a hesitating voice, "Monsieur, I am indeed a
+woman. You ask me if I can forget that I offered you my lips? No. Nor do
+I wish to. Why did I permit you to kiss me? I do not know. I could not
+analyze the impulse if I tried. Monsieur, I am a woman who demands
+much from those who serve her. I am capricious; my moods vary; I am
+unfamiliar with sentiment; I hate oftener than I love. Listen. There is
+a canker in my heart, made there by vanity. When it heals--well--mayhap
+you will find the woman you desire. Mind you, I make no promises.
+Follow me, if you will, but have patience; love me if you must, but in
+silence;" and with a gesture which was not without a certain fondness,
+she laid her hand upon his head.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX. INTO STILL WATERS AND SILENCE
+
+Into the princess's own chamber they carried Maurice, and laid him on
+the white bed. Thus would she have it. No young man had ever before
+entered that sacred chapel of her maiden dreams. Beside the bed was
+a small prie-dieu; and she knelt upon the cushion and rested her brow
+against the crucifix. The archbishop covered his eyes, and the state
+physician bent his head. Chastity and innocence at the feet of God; yet,
+not even these can hold back the fleeting breath of life. She asked God
+to forgive her the bitterness in her heart; she prayed for strength
+to repel the weakness in her limbs. Presently she rose, an angelic
+sweetness on her face. She looked down at Maurice; there was no sign of
+life, save in the fitful drawing in of the nether lip. She dampened a
+cloth and wiped the sweat of agony from the marble brow.
+
+"O, if only he might live!" she cried. "And he will not?"
+
+"No, your Highness," said the physician. "He has perhaps an hour.
+Extraordinary vitality alone is the cause of his living so long. He has
+lost nearly all the blood in his body. It was a frightful wound. He is
+dying, but he may return to consciousness before the end."
+
+The archbishop, with somber eyes, contemplated the pale, handsome face,
+which lay motionless against the pillow. His thoughts flew back to his
+own youth, to the long years which had filled the gap between. Friends
+had come and gone, loved ones vanished; and still he stood, like an oak
+in the heart of a devastated forest, alone. Why had he been spared,
+and to what end? Ah, how old he was, how very old! To live beyond the
+allotted time, was not that a punishment for some transgression? His
+eyes shone through a mist of tears.
+
+The princess, too, contemplated the face of the dying man. How many
+times had that face accompanied her in her dreams! How familiar she was
+with every line of it, the lips, that turned inward when they smiled;
+the certain lock of hair that fell upon the forehead! And yet, she
+had seen the face in reality less than half a dozen times. Why had it
+entered so persistently into her dreams? Why had the flush risen to her
+cheeks at the thought? At another time she would have refused to listen
+to the voice which answered; but now, as the object of her thoughts
+lay dying on her pillow, her mind would not play truant to her heart.
+Sometimes the approach of love is so imperceptible that it does not
+provoke analysis. We wake suddenly to find it in our hearts, so strong
+and splendid that we submit without question.... All, all her dreams had
+vanished, the latest and the fairest. Across the azure of her youth
+had come and gone a vague, beautiful flash of love. The door of earthly
+paradise had opened and closed. That delicate string which vibrates with
+the joy of living seemed parted; her heart was broken, and her young
+breast a tomb. With straining eyes she continued to gaze. The invisible
+arms of her love clasped Maurice to her heart and held him there. Only
+that day he had stood before her, a delight to the eye; and she had
+given him her hand to kiss. How bravely he had gone forth from the city!
+She had followed him with her ardent gaze until he was no longer to be
+seen. And now he lay dying.... for her.
+
+"Monsieur," she said, turning to the physician, "I have something to say
+to Monseigneur."
+
+The physician bowed and passed into the boudoir, the door of which he
+closed.
+
+"Father," she said to the prelate, "I have no secrets from you." She
+pointed to Maurice. "I love him. I know not why. He comes from a foreign
+land; his language nor his people are mine, and yet the thought of him
+has filled my soul. I have talked to him but four different times; and
+yet I love him. Why? I can not tell. The mind has no power to rule the
+impulse of love. Were he to live, perhaps my love would be a sin. Is it
+not strange, father, that I love him? I have lost parental love; I am
+losing a love a woman holds priceless above all others. He is dying
+because of me. He loves me. I read it in his eyes just before he fell.
+Perhaps it is better for him and for me that he should die, for if he
+lived I could not live without him. Father, do I sin?"
+
+"No, my child," and the prelate closed his eyes.
+
+"I have been so lonely," she said, "so alone. I craved the love of the
+young. He was so different from any man I had met before. His bright,
+handsome face seemed constantly with me."
+
+At this moment Maurice's breast rose and fell in a long sigh. Presently
+the lids of his eyes rolled upward. Consciousness had returned. His
+wandering gaze first encountered the sad, austere visage of the prelate.
+
+"Monseigneur?" he said, faintly.
+
+"Do you wish absolution, my son?"
+
+"I am dying...?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I am dying.... God has my account and he will judge it. I am not a
+Catholic, Monseigneur." He turned his head. "Your Highness?" He roved
+about the room with his eyes and discerned the feminine touch in all the
+appointments.
+
+"Where am I?"
+
+"You are in my room, Monsieur," she said. Her voice broke, but she met
+his eyes with a brave smile. "Is there anything we can do for you?"
+
+"Nothing. I am alone. To die.... Well, one time or another. And yet, it
+is a beautiful world, when we but learn it, full of color and life and
+love. I am young; I do not wish to die. And now... even in the midst...
+to go... where? Monseigneur, I am dying; to me princes and kings signify
+nothing. That is not to say that they ever did. In the presence of death
+we are all equal. Living, I might not speak; dying... since I have but a
+little while to stay... I may speak?"
+
+"Yes, my son, speak. Her Highness will listen."
+
+"It is to her Highness that I wish to speak."
+
+Her lips quivered and she made no secret of her tears. "What is it you
+wish to say to me, Monsieur Carewe?" She smoothed his forehead, and the
+touch of her hand made him forget his pain.
+
+"Ah, I know not how to begin," he said. "Forgive me if I offend your
+ears.... I have been foolish even to dream of it, but I could not help
+it.... When first I saw you in the garden.. the old dog was beside
+you.... Even then it came to me that my future was linked to the thought
+of you. I did not know you were so far beyond.... I was very cold, but
+I dared not let you know it, for fear you would lead me at once to the
+gate. That night wherever I looked I saw you. I strove to think of some
+way to serve you, but I could not. I was so obscure. I never thought
+that you would remember me again; but you did... That afternoon in the
+carriage... I wanted to tell you then. That rose you dropped... it is
+still on my heart. I loved you, and to this end. And I am glad to die,
+for in this short fortnight I have lived.... My mother used to call me
+Maurice ... to hear a woman repeat it again before I go."
+
+"Maurice." She took his hand timidly in hers, and looked at the
+archbishop.
+
+"Speak to him from your heart, my child," said the prelate. "It will
+comfort you both."
+
+Suddenly she drooped and the tears fell upon the hand in hers.
+"Maurice," she whispered, "you have not loved in vain." She could utter
+no more; but she raised her head and looked into his eyes, and he saw
+the glory of the world in hers.
+
+"Into still waters and silence," he said softly. "No more pain, nor joy,
+nor love; silence.... You love me!... Alexia; how often have I repeated
+that name to myself.... I have not strength to lift your hand to my
+lips."
+
+She kissed him on the lips. She felt as if she, too, were dying.
+
+"God guard your Highness," he said. "It is dark.... I do not see you...."
+
+He tried to raise himself, but he could not. He sank back, settled
+deeply into the pillow, and smiled. After that he lay very still.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Puppet Crown, by Harold MacGrath
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