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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b262f58 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51077 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51077) diff --git a/old/51077-8.txt b/old/51077-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3b84bdb..0000000 --- a/old/51077-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6943 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Amateur Diplomat, by -Hugh S. Eayrs and Thomas B. Costain - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Amateur Diplomat - A Novel - -Author: Hugh S. Eayrs - Thomas B. Costain - -Release Date: January 30, 2016 [EBook #51077] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE AMATEUR DIPLOMAT *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines - - - - - - - - - - THE AMATEUR - DIPLOMAT - - _A Novel_ - - - BY - - HUGH S. EAYRS AND T. B. COSTAIN - - - - HODDER AND STOUGHTON - LONDON TORONTO NEW YORK - 1917 - - - - -CONTENTS - - -CHAPTER I. - -A CANADIAN IN SERAJOZ - - -CHAPTER II. - -THE ROYAL BALL - - -CHAPTER III. - -DARING PROPOSALS - - -CHAPTER IV. - -THE MEETING OF FOUR NATIONS - - -CHAPTER V. - -AN ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION - - -CHAPTER VI. - -THE KING'S COMMAND - - -CHAPTER VII. - -GENERAL LEBRUN - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -THE QUARREL - - -CHAPTER IX. - -A NIGHT OF RIOTS - - -CHAPTER X. - -FATE & CO - - -CHAPTER XI. - -THE ABDUCTION - - -CHAPTER XII. - -INTRODUCING PHIL CRANE - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -IN THE HILL COUNTRY - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -TAKE LARESCU - - -CHAPTER XV. - -THE TRUMP CARD - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -THE RESCUING PARTY - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -THE RENUNCIATION - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -TWO FIGHT: ONE FALLS - - -CHAPTER XIX. - -MARRIED OVER THE TONGS - - -CHAPTER XX. - -THE PLOT DISCOVERED - - -CHAPTER XXI. - -PLANNING A FUTURE - - -CHAPTER XXII. - -IRONIA INVADED - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - -CRANE'S ESCAPE - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - -THE NEW KING - - -CHAPTER XXV. - -THE ASSASSINATION - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - -THE DEATH OF THE KING - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - -A LETTER OF FAREWELL - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. - -THE REUNION - - - - -CHAPTER I - -A CANADIAN IN SERAJOZ - -On a sunny spring day in the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred -and fifteen, a fiacre drove up to a big house in the Lodz, the winding, -crescent-shaped street in Serajoz, the capital of Ironia, in which were -to be found the Embassies and the residences of the wealthier class. -There was nothing singular, apparently, in that particular fiacre -driving up to that particular house. Fiacres in scores drove up there -and drove away again day after day the year through and occasioned -little remark. Yet if certain influential gentlemen in Ironia had -known who it was that jumped out of the fiacre on that sunny spring -day, and if these influential Ironians had had the gift of prophetic -vision in superlative degree, they might have taken some action to -prevent him from reaching the house of Baroness Draschol and her -husband, Mr Percival Varden. And then, perhaps, this story would never -have been written, because Ironia might never have----But this is -anticipating. - -The fiacre stopped. Almost before all motion had ceased, a tall, -alert-looking young man jumped out and, fishing out a handful of coins -from his pocket, implored the driver to take what was his due. The -driver knew him for an American or an Englishman, or anything but an -Ironian, and, carefully abstracting from the outstretched palm the -equivalent of twice the legitimate fare, drove away with a smile on his -face and a blessing upon foreigners who had not the gift of tongues. - -The young man stood on the sidewalk a moment. Then, with the quick -step which characterises the man of action, he strode up the narrow -path to the house and rang the bell. It was answered by a pompous -individual, resplendent in a dull strawberry-coloured plush suit, who, -with the combination of obsequiousness and dignity which can be found -only in the lackey in the Balkans, ushered the caller into a -reception-room and retired with his card. - -The young man looked around him appreciatively. The splendid paintings -which adorned the walls, the luxurious hangings, the rich, deep carpet, -the handsome lounge on which he was sitting, all appeared to surprise -him. - -"Some change from that den of Varden's in Montreal," he murmured. - -The curtains at the end of the room parted and a tall, well-groomed man -of about thirty-five came quickly across the floor with outstretched -hands. - -"Don Fenton, by all that's holy!" he exclaimed, pumping his visitor's -hands up and down with vigorous exuberance. - -"Percy Varden, by all that's--er--profane!" said Fenton, with equal -enthusiasm. - -"Old Don Fenton!" repeated Varden, slapping the other on the back and -beaming on him with real affection. "And in Serajoz, of all places!" - -"A pretty good place to be, if I'm to judge by your surroundings," said -Fenton. "You must be a deputy-sultan at least, Yarden, to live in such -state." - -"Ironia isn't a bad place, Don," said Varden, with sudden soberness. -"Or at least it won't be if a certain event comes to pass. If that -certain event doesn't happen, I intend to leave all this"--he made a -broad gesture to indicate the luxurious room in which they stood--"and -find a place for myself in the line with the boys in khaki. When your -country's at war, it's hard to be an exile." - -"I'm on my way back for that very same purpose," affirmed Fenton -warmly. "When the war broke I was in Hungary, and I just escaped the -detention camp by two hours. I got over into Russia after a series of -adventures--dead broke. I had a letter of credit, of course, but it -was gold that was needed. It took me a long time to establish my -identity and convert my paper into gold currency. Then I came down -through the Balkans on my way home and decided to drop off and see you -here in Ironia. And here I am." - -"But," said Varden, "what I want to know is how you ever got to Europe -in the first place. What's the meaning of all this glib talk of -letters of credit and gold currency? Last I heard of you, you were -trying to convince the Canadian public that at last Eldorado had been -discovered--in the form of subdivisions in Saskatchewan. And I judged -from your letters that the public had developed an unwonted degree of -scepticism." - -"Then you haven't heard of my good fortune?" - -"Why, no, I guess I haven't. What's happened?" - -"An uncle of mine died and very unexpectedly left me several million -dollars. I considered myself justified under the circumstances in -following the bottom of the real estate market; that is, dropping out." - -"Then you are _the_ Fenton," declared Varden, shaking hands again. "I -read something in a New York paper about a young Canadian coming into a -big pile, but I never thought it would be you. Why, that possibility -never entered my mind. Congratulations, old man, congratulations!" - -"The congratulations should be mutual, Varden," said Fenton. "I -remember when one Percival Varden was getting his fifteen per week, and -wasn't worth that any more than I was my twelve per--according to that -honest gentleman, that fair-minded director of budding journalists, -George W. Jackson, city editor of the _News Despatch_--the unspeakable -cur!" - -"Then time hasn't cured you of your reverence for dear old Jackson--the -ill-bred beast!" said Varden, with a laugh that ended in a growl. - -"No, I'll never give up my grudge until I have a chance to assign -Jackson to cover an August excursion to Hades. They would never let -him come back." - -"Still, they were happy days in Montreal, weren't they?" said Varden. -"But I guess I ought to explain about my good fortune. I returned to -England and met Baroness Draschol in London. We fell in love, and that -wonderful woman overlooked my personal deficiencies, my poverty and my -lack of position, and actually married me! My wife is connected with -the royal family of Ironia and owns so much property I haven't found -out about it all yet. And yet she married me, poor old hack scribbler -that I was. Fenton, when you meet her you'll wonder too how it could -ever have happened. I've been married three years and I'm still dazed -at my wonderful good fortune." - -"Three years married and still in the raving state!" jeered Fenton. -"One week generally serves to translate a bridegroom from that -condition. Varden, you must be the luckiest fellow in the world." - -"I am," affirmed Varden emphatically. "But wait until you see Sonia. -She'll be delighted to meet you. We've often talked about you. And by -Jove, Don, you are looking well!" - -Fenton was about thirty years of age--a handsome fellow in a healthy, -outdoor sort of way. He stood over six feet, broad-shouldered and -straight-limbed. Set him in a crowd in any country of dark-pigmented, -short-statured men and he stood out by contrast like a Norse god. It -is not likely that any woman would ever refuse him the tribute of a -second glance. And yet Fenton was not in any sense a lady's man. The -firm mouth, the strong jaw and clear eye told of resolve, of -determination, of self-reliance. He had a finely chiselled face, a -frank, clean, open face. Fenton was a manly man. It was said of him -that he stood four-square to every wind that blew. - -"Married yet?" went on Varden. - -"No," replied the other. - -"Then you've no one with you? No ties, no one whose wishes or whims -you must consider?" - -"Free as the air of the Western prairies," returned Fenton. "Why?" - -"Well, if you can stay over and if you have the same taste for -excitement that you had in the old days, I can gratify it for you, -that's all." - -"Tell me what it is all about. And, by the way, what are your people -in Ironia going to do? Going to join us in this war? I heard a lot of -talk about it as I came through Russia. Ironia seems to have been -pretty well featured in the newspapers lately." - -Varden looked around, then drew his chair closer to Fenton's. - -"That's just the excitement I spoke of, Don," he said. "Ironia is -going to figure in the war; that part of it is certain. But on which -side? There are two factions in the country, and at the present time -we are fighting like wild cats to determine the policy of the country. -Both sides are determined to win; and let me tell you, Don, they take -their politics hard in this land. It's a fight to the bitter end in -which lives are not counted of any great importance. - -"I guess you know pretty well how matters stand in Ironia," he went on. -"The people as a whole are heart and soul with the Allies. Austria -holds Serania and Mulkovina, two provinces that used to be part of -Ironia. What Alsace and Lorraine are to France, these two provinces -are to Ironia. It is certain that if the Allies win Russia will seize -both Serania and Mulkovina, and then Ironia's chance of bringing her -sons and daughters in the lost provinces back into the fold will have -been lost for ever. Russia offers us the two provinces as the price of -throwing in our lot with the Allies. Ironians see that it is their -only chance and they clamour for war on Austria." - -"But," said Varden, speaking cautiously, "there is one obstacle. King -Alexander of Ironia is dead against the Allies. His sympathies are all -with the Teutonic alliance. And he is possibly, next to the Kaiser, -the most absolute monarch in Europe to-day. The envoys of Germany and -Austria are camping on his doorstep, urging him to join them. He would -throw the weight of Ironian intervention into the scales against the -Allies to-morrow if he were not afraid of the feeling of his subjects. -Fearing to act according to the dictates of his own mind, he -nevertheless refuses to obey the clearly expressed mandate of the -people and strike a blow for the restoration of the lost provinces." - -"Does the King stand alone?" asked Fenton. - -"By no means," replied Varden. "There is a faction that stands by him, -composed of a number of the nobles and the Austrian section of the -country. The majority of the nobles, practically all of the business -classes and the common people _en masse_ favour an alliance with -England, France and Russia. Needless to state, I am with the latter -faction. I am, in fact, right in the thick of it--sort of a lieutenant -to Prince Peter, the King's brother, who acts as leader of the popular -cause, and who is, by the way, the strongest man in the country. It's -a great fight, Don--intrigues, plots and counterplots, with secret -societies on both sides, duels, assassinations and all the other -properties necessary to a Balkan imbroglio. One never knows when a -bullet may not come his way or a knife find lodgment between his -shoulder-blades." - -Varden had risen and was pacing up and down the room excitedly. He -paused in front of his guest. - -"Do you remember the thrill you get in a fight for a big news story?" -he asked. "That's all child's play in comparison with this game." - -Fenton stood up in turn and faced his friend. - -"I intend to place myself at the disposal of my country," he said. -"I've been wondering how I could serve best--by enlisting in England, -or by staying right here and helping in the fight to bring Ironia into -line with the allied cause. If you think I could be of any use, -Varden, I would like to figure in the fight here. Every cent I've got, -my own time, my life, if necessary, are at your disposal." - -"Great!" cried Varden, wringing Fenton's hand for the third time. "Can -you be of assistance, boy? I wish I had a hundred like you. And a -little cash won't be amiss either. Count yourself in from now on. -You've enlisted in the cause." - -"Well, what's the next move?" asked Fenton, impatient for action and -eager for a closer acquaintance with the thrilling experiences of -Ironian intrigue. - -"Have patience, you old fire-eater," admonished Varden with an amused -smile. "There's a ball at the palace to-night. I'll get an invitation -for you and probably I'll be able to introduce you to some of the -leading characters in the drama. They'll all be there. All you'll -have to do this time will be to keep your eyes and cars open." - -As Fenton walked down the steps and into the waiting fiacre, he smiled -to himself. "Don Fenton, diplomat, is a new one," he said. "But one -man in his time plays many parts. I guess it will be more exciting -than reporting or selling real estate, anyway." - - - - -CHAPTER II - -THE ROYAL BALL - -The ball at the palace was a very brilliant affair. The rooms were -hung with a thousand lights; the flowers, many of them strange to -Fenton's western knowledge, and the decorations were on a munificent -scale. Beautiful women and handsome men in vari-coloured uniforms -moved here and there, intent upon enjoying themselves. Fenton was -impressed and not a little surprised. The whole atmosphere was one of -wealth and luxury, such wealth and such luxury as one does not expect -to find in the kingdoms of the Balkans. - -Fenton was paying a mental tribute to it all when Varden touched him on -the arm and took him away to present him to King Alexander and his -consort. Fenton had heard that the King was a charming man, and His -Majesty's personality made the few words of welcome which he uttered -well worth remembrance. Alexander was possibly the handsomest monarch -in Europe. Dark, tall and soldierly he looked every inch a king. It -came to Fenton as he stood there chatting, that here was a man who -would have his own way. - -The formalities of royal presentation over, Fenton was backing away -when he caught a glimpse of an officer, apparently of high rank, -approaching the King, with a young girl on his arm. Fenton looked at -the girl--and forgot everything else. She was tall and graceful, with -an air that could only be defined as regal. The oval face was -surmounted with a crowning glory of hair, dark and lustrous. Her skin -was like the petals of a wild rose. Her deep violet eyes, large and -unwavering of gaze, were fringed with long lashes that imparted the -only suggestion of coquetry to a face of surpassing witchery and charm. -Fenton continued to stare in a literal haze of admiration. - -He was aroused from his dream by the reappearance of Varden. The -latter took him by the arm and propelled him forward until they stood -in the presence of the divinity who had so completely set Fenton's wits -wool-gathering. Fenton, awe-struck at this good fortune, felt like a -humble mortal suddenly transported into the august company of the gods -on Mount Olympus. - -"Your highness," he heard Varden say to the girl, "may I present Mr -Fenton, my friend from Canada? Fenton, this is her highness, the -Princess Olga." - -The Canadian bowed low over the princess's hand, surely the most dainty -hand in all the world. He was presented in due form to her escort, the -Grand Duke Miridoff, a heavy-set man with hawk-like features, long -moustache and side-whiskers, which stood out aggressively with an -unmistakable Teutonic suggestion. The grand duke typified the -domineering efficiency of the military caste. - -Fenton, murmuring a commonplace greeting, felt a strange antagonism for -Miridoff. The latter's manner, while strictly courteous and even -urbane, did not conceal the fact that Miridoff himself look no pleasure -in the introduction. - -In a few minutes Varden, with a happy tact, discovered an errand that -took both himself and Miridoff away. Fenton allowed his glance to -follow their retreating figures for a moment, and then, conscious of -the scrutiny of his companion, turned back to the princess. She was -studying him with frank interest and did not seem at all disposed to -hide it. - -"I must have a long talk with you, Mr Fenton," she said, speaking in -excellent English. The conversation previously had been conducted in -French, in which Fenton was well schooled. "You are so--so different -from us. I have met but two Americans before, and they were of -Austrian descent. You see, we are off the beaten track of tourists -here in Ironia. Coming from your strange, big country across the ocean -you seem almost like a visitor from Mars." - -The princess smiled, and if her face was charming in repose it was ten -times more so when it expressed animation. Fenton's diffidence left -him. He began to talk of Canada, of the vastness of the country, of -its customs and its freedom; particularly of its freedom. The princess -listened with deepest interest. - -"I should like to go to America--to Canada," said she. "It would be so -splendid to be able to do what one wanted without bothering with -customs and etiquette; to be able to go about without endless crowds of -people staring at one." - -"Canadians turn out to stare at princesses the same as they do here in -Ironia," answered Fenton. "In fact, as their opportunities are fewer, -they probably make more of them. And even if you were to travel -incognito--I'm afraid my countrymen would let their admiration get the -better of their politeness." - -They were soon on most friendly terms, quite forgetful of the fact that -she was a princess of the royal line. In fact, Fenton found it -difficult to realise that his companion was anything but an unusually -attractive partner at a dance; and she seemed quite as willing to let -all other considerations recede into the background. A quarter of an -hour of most delightful interest passed, though it seemed but a moment -to Fenton, when a tall, elderly man in uniform brought their -_tête-à-tête_ to an end. - -"Mr Fenton, this is my father," said the princess. - -The Canadian, who had been observing everything, acknowledged the -introduction with a correct imitation of the stiff formal bow that -seemed an integral part of Ironian etiquette. The princess's father -bore a striking resemblance to King Alexander. Could this be the -Prince Peter to whom Varden had referred? - -They talked for a few minutes, the prince also speaking English with -fluency. Then someone came, a little understrapper in a most gorgeous -uniform, and bore the princess away to dance. - -"Lucky devil!" sighed the Canadian to himself. - -The two men walked out to a balcony, and on the prince's first remark -Fenton became assured of his identity. - -"Mr Varden has spoken of you to me," said Prince Peter. "He intimates -that it is your intention to remain for some time in Ironia and to lend -your assistance to the cause that Mr Varden has himself espoused." - -Fenton responded warmly, and for half an hour the two men talked war -problems and Ironia's relation thereto. Prince Peter discussed the -situation with a frankness which might have astonished the young -Canadian had he not been aware that all Ironia was thoroughly -conversant with most phases of the vexed problem. When the prince -returned to the ball-room, he left Fenton with an unbounded enthusiasm -for the new cause and a deep respect for Prince Peter himself. The -latter was a born leader in every respect, particularly in his ability -to win adherents. - -Fenton lit a cigarette and started down a dark path leading to the -extensive and intricately planned royal gardens. He wanted to be -alone. He wanted to be able to think, to dream. And his thoughts and -dreams at first ran exclusively along one groove. How beautiful the -princess was! He began to reflect on the future--his future and hers. -In a moment his thoughts took a gloomy turn. He would go back to -Canada, which now for the first time seemed void of interest. She -would marry a man of royal blood and rule in some such country as -Ironia. He pictured her married for diplomatic reasons to a royal -nonentity, condemned to a lifetime of endless etiquette, of senseless -rigmarole. He reflected darkly on the benighted condition of the old -world which made such things possible. Was there no way that an -ambitious young millionaire from the new world could succeed in -upsetting this almost inevitable arrangement, by scaling the walls of -custom and tradition? - -In keeping with his thoughts his pace had become savagely energetic. -He now discovered that he had wandered well away from the palace into a -maze of dark paths. He stopped and looked about him. And then -suddenly he heard voices. - -They proceeded from a thick clump of bushes close to his right. One -voice was raised sufficiently high above the rest to carry its message -to his ears. The owner of the voice was speaking in German, and Fenton -knew enough of that language to catch what was being said. It -interested him so acutely that he stepped through the bushes cautiously -in the direction from which the sound came. - -In a small clearing, part of which was thrown into relief by a ray of -light from a nearby building, stood a group of men. One of them turned -and the light fell direct on his face. With a start of surprise Fenton -recognised the Grand Duke Miridoff. - -"Are we all here?" asked Miridoff. - -From where he stood behind the bushes, Fenton could watch the party -without being seen himself. He noted that they were all in uniform or -evening dress, having apparently left the ball-room to attend this -stealthy rendezvous. It struck Fenton that the majority of the group -were not Ironians. They gathered about Miridoff, who quite apparently -was the leader. - -"Members of the Society of Crossed Swords," Miridoff was saying, "we -have heard news of such importance that we deemed it necessary to have -word passed quietly to each of you to meet here. - -"Events are taking an unfavourable turn," he went on. "The King is -still loyal to our cause, but the strong feeling throughout the country -is making an impression on him. Peter is pressing him strongly. I -regret to have to state it, but I can clearly see the King is wavering." - -There was a moment's silence, and then Miridoff began again in such low -tones that Fenton could hardly catch the words. - -"I received important news to-night from the front. The Russians are -massing for an invasion of Mulkovina. It will be hard to hold them. -Once they get possession of Mulkovina, without Ironia's assistance, no -power on earth will wrest it from them." Miridoff's voice at this -point sunk almost to a whisper. "If the people know that Russia is -ready for the advance, nothing will prevent them from declaring for the -Allies while there is still time to gain the two provinces by so doing. -Alexander's opposition will be swept away. There is only one course -left. Ironia must be ranged on Germany's side before the news of the -Russian mobilisation leaks out!" - -This statement was followed by a babel of discussion in which most of -the men took part, and the confused tangle of talk proved too difficult -for Fenton's inadequate knowledge of the German tongue. He lost the -thread of the discussion until the decisive tones of Miridoff again cut -through the talk. - -"There is but one course open. If Prince Peter is not there to prompt -the King, to urge his arguments of policy, Alexander could be rushed -into declaring war against Russia at once. That is what we must bring -about. Peter must be removed!" - -A general murmur followed Miridoff's statement, and out of it Fenton's -amazed senses picked one word--"Assassination!" - -"Well, who's to do it?" someone asked. - -"It is to decide that point that we are here," answered Miridoff. "It -is a regrettable necessity, but our cause demands it. Peter dead, the -people will be like a flock of sheep without a shepherd. Is it -necessary to get your consent to the step?" - -The men assented as with one voice to what their leader had said. - -"Our oath binds us to secrecy," said Miridoff. Drawing from his pocket -some slips of paper, he deposited them in his hat. "Two are marked," -he said. "Those who draw them will be called upon to perform the -service. Are you agreed?" - -Rooted to the spot with horror, Teuton watched the men draw in turn -from the hat. After all had drawn, two of them stepped aside for -consultation with Miridoff. - -"The rest of you had better go," said the latter. "This place is none -too safe. Remember, not a word. Perhaps by to-morrow morning we shall -have news for you, news that will shake the world and cause a grey fear -to creep into the faces of the cursed English!" - - - - -CHAPTER III - -DARING PROPOSALS - -For the first time now, Fenton became aware that the happy accident -which brought him as eavesdropper to this extraordinary assignation had -also placed him in a most dangerous position. On completing their -consultation, the three men made straight in his direction. Fenton -tried to shrink back farther into the rhododendrons, but even in the -darkness they did not afford sufficient shelter for a man with the -conspicuous white front of evening dress. He decided that his best -chance of safely lay in flight. - -Pulling the collar of his dress coat up around his neck, he started off -cautiously. Unfortunately he stumbled and nearly fell headlong into a -small shrub. Sharp exclamations from the rear warned him that he had -betrayed his presence to the three conspirators. Throwing all other -considerations to the winds, therefore, Fenton ran for dear life. - -The men behind took up the pursuit with business-like grimness. Not a -word was uttered, but in an instant he heard the steady pound of their -feet and then the sharp discharge of a revolver. A bullet whizzed -close past his ear, showing that the conspirators were not firing -entirely at random. Several more shots followed in the next few -minutes, and in each instance they were but an inch or two off their -mark. - -Fenton had been a sprinter in his college days, and the knowledge that -three expert and determined marksmen are on one's trail is perhaps the -greatest spur to velocity that could be imagined. Without paying any -heed to his course, he plunged straight ahead, through shrubbery and -garden plots, around fountains and over railings. His pursuers made up -in desperation what they lacked in length of leg, and it took the young -Canadian some time to gain a comfortable lead. At last he outdistanced -them, however, and by pursuing a devious course landed, all -unwittingly, at a side door of the palace. He pushed it open and, -finding no one to stop him, made his way down a corridor toward the -sound of the music. - -Without pausing to catch his breath or plan any definite course, Fenton -showed in the ball-room. Glances that drifted his way fixed themselves -on him with astonishment, until finally the Canadian found that, much -as he had desired to avoid notice, he had instead made himself the -cynosure of all eyes. The reason was not hard to find. In his flight -he had broken recklessly through brambles and thick shrubbery. The -front of his once immaculate dress shirt was willed and soiled; his -face scratched, his hair rumpled. He looked as though he had been -through a football scrimmage. - -To find Varden was his first endeavour, but the latter unfortunately -was nowhere in sight. So Fenton decided to seek Prince Peter in -person, and convey to him direct the startling news he had stumbled -upon. Threading his way blindly through the gay ranks in search of the -leader of the allied cause, he came in contact with the Grand Duke -Miridoff. The two men halted and stood for a moment face to face, like -belligerents. Their glances crossed like rapier blades. Miridoff -coldly and without haste appraised the disorderliness of the young -Canadian's attire. - -"Mr Fenton has been strolling in the gardens?" he said. - -Fenton was no diplomat. He was unversed in the art of exchanging -polished phrases in the face of tense situations, of veiling threats, -innuendoes, warnings, in the guise of polite rejoinders. He replied -with the directness and vigour that are supposed to be characteristic -of the Canadian character. - -"Yes, I have been strolling in the gardens," he said, "and it's lucky I -happened to be around just when I did!" - -Miridoff, accustomed to the devious ways of diplomacy, was thrown off -his guard by the sheer unexpectedness of so direct a rejoinder. He -regained his poise in an instant, however, and treated Fenton to a cold -glare. - -"Perhaps Mr Fenton will find it unlucky for himself that he happened to -be around just when he did," he said, passing on. - -The remark set Fenton thinking. Undoubtedly the situation presented -certain possibilities that had not occurred to him before. His -presence at the meeting of the Society of Crossed Swords, known as it -now was to the conspirators, would not serve as a deterrent to the -carrying out of their foul purpose. Instead, it had given them a -double aim; it would be advisable to get him out of the way before the -plans laid for the death of Prince Peter were attempted. That much was -quite clear even to one so completely unversed as himself in the -ruthless way of Balkan politics. He was a marked man. It was equally -clear to him that he was practically powerless in the matter. He could -not go to the police or the military authorities and lay bare the whole -thing to them. He would merely be laughed at for his pains. Who was -he, an unknown foreigner, to lay such a serious charge against so -illustrious a personage as the Grand Duke Miridoff? That course could -have no effect other than to destroy his own usefulness to the cause he -had espoused and perhaps to bring suspicion down on the prince and -Varden. Fenton saw clearly that the only thing for him to do was to -acquaint the prince of the plot against him and take the chance of any -danger to himself which might arise in the meantime from the animosity -of Miridoff's myrmidons. - -He continued his search for Prince Peter with an almost feverish -eagerness, recognising that every minute was precious now. Delay on -his part might mean the death of the leader of the popular cause with -all that such a calamity would entail. Miridoff's reasoning had been -right; the prince out of the way, there would be little difficulty in -persuading the King to swing Ironia into line against Russia. - -But, to Fenton, the possibilities did not stop there. Prince Peter was -father of the loveliest woman in the world! Ever since he had spent -those golden minutes with the Princess Olga, thoughts of her had never -been entirely out of his mind. Even as he had dashed headlong through -the gardens, a picture of her as she had last appeared to him, in all -her regal beauty and dainty girlishness floating off to the strains of -"The Blue Danube" on the arm of a native officer, had remained with -him. Could this great sorrow be permitted to come to her? - -It was to the princess herself that he finally told the story of the -plot. He could not locate her father, and, in sheer desperation, -sought her out where she stood at the end of the long ball-room. His -dishevelled appearance created comment in the group surrounding her, -but Fenton, casting finesse to the winds, rode rough-shod over all -considerations of court etiquette. - -"Your highness," he said, "I must see you for a few minutes--alone. I -assure you it is a matter of great urgency." - -The princess, glancing at him intently, divined the earnestness behind -his unusual request, and, with a murmured word, dismissed the partner -to whom she had been engaged for the next dance. All eyes followed -them as they crossed to a nearby alcove. - -"Your highness," said Fenton earnestly, "I want to apologise, first for -appearing in such a condition, and second for what must appear to you -as gross ignorance of all that pertains to royal etiquette. I can -plead in extenuation only the urgency of the case." - -He told her in a few words of his blind excursion outside and its -astonishing sequel. "I may have done wrong by telling you this," he -concluded, "but I could find neither your father nor my friend, Varden, -and I realised that every moment was precious." - -For a moment there was silence. The eloquent dark eyes of the -princess, which had been fixed on his face during the recital, were now -filled with a troubled appeal. - -"I cannot find words to thank you, Mr Fenton," she said, clasping her -hands together. "Your news is disquieting, although I have feared for -the safety of the prince, my father, ever since war broke out. -Anything is possible in Ironia now--even that they should want the -death of a prince who has never had a thought beyond the welfare of his -country! He is the most unselfish man that ever lived, I think, Mr -Fenton. One who has not known him can have no conception of the way in -which he has given himself to the service of Ironia." - -Fenton listened to her in a conflict of emotion. The compassion that -he felt for this beautiful butterfly, enmeshed in the net of royal rank -and placed within a circle where constant danger and intrigue were part -of the price of position, was overshadowed by a still deeper feeling. -Fenton had progressed thus far along the steep upward grade called life -without any more lasting love episodes than an occasional brief -flirtation. He had always responded willingly enough to the appeal of -a pretty face, but his first glimpse of the Princess Olga had stirred -something within him that was deeper than admiration and more -disturbing than any emotion he had ever experienced before. Her beauty -left him in a condition where coherent speech was difficult and -connected thought impossible. - -This condition of mind was intensified by the position in which they -were now placed. In the face of danger threatening, the fact of her -position was lost. She was no longer a princess who might -condescendingly stoop to a brief friendliness with a commoner from a -strange country; she had become simply a girl, alarmed and distressed -at the dangerous position of her father. - -"I am so frightened!" she went on, averting her gaze to hide the look -almost of terror that had come. "My father left the palace a few -minutes ago. Could it be--can they carry out their purpose--before he -can be warned of the danger?" - -Fenton thought for a moment. "No," he answered confidently. "The -prince must have left before I returned to the palace. In that case he -got away before those precious rogues had any chance to carry out their -plans. He must be reached at once and warned." - -"But," the girl's voice came tensely, "I have no idea where he has -gone. He has come and gone much of late, never telling anyone of his -purpose or his movements. He may even return here before the night is -over!" - -"That wouldn't do," said Fenton, alarmed in turn. "I must find Varden. -He'll be certain to know where the prince has gone." - -He bowed and would at once have left her to renew his search for Varden -had she not detained him with a gesture. - -"Tell me, Mr Fenton, did you by any chance recognise the men in the -garden?" - -It was on the tip of Fenton's tongue to tell her all that he knew of -the matter, but the recollection that when he had first seen her she -had been in the company of Miridoff came in time to check him. - -"It was very dark in the gardens and I have only been in the city a -day," he replied. "There was but one I recognised in the group, and it -would perhaps be wise not to name him." - -"But I must know," persisted the princess. "We must understand from -what source the blow might come. No consideration can outweigh that of -my father's safety, and if I find him first I must know against whom to -warn him." - -"That is true," said Fenton, after a moment's consideration. Then with -some hesitation, "I may be making a great blunder in telling you this. -You see the one man I recognised--and he was undoubtedly the -ring-leader--was with you when I had the honour of being presented to -you to-night." - -There was a moment's pause, during which the princess stared at him -with eyes wide-open in their incredulity. Then her manner changed. -She became wholly the princess again and there was unmistakable hauteur -in her bearing and, when she spoke, in her voice. - -"You have made a most extraordinary mistake, Mr Fenton," she said. "It -is quite impossible that the one you have named could have been there." - -"I was not mistaken," he declared. "I saw the Grand Duke Miridoff!" - -"I do not doubt that you thought you recognised him," said the -princess, her mood changing again to one almost of appeal, "but it was -a fancied resemblance. The darkness deceived you. You have met him -but once, and the mistake might easily occur." - -"Your highness, there was no mistake," said Fenton earnestly. "I have -no idea in what regard you hold this man. It may be that I am -sacrificing all possibility of retaining a small measure of your favour -and good opinion by my course. But there can be no doubt that the man -who is plotting your father's assassination is the Grand Duke Miridoff! -I saw him and heard him quite clearly. A few minutes ago I met him -back there in the ball-room and he showed by what he said to me that he -knew--what I know. It's war to the knife from now on! - -"Your highness," he went on, "whether or no you believe me when I tell -you that the instigator of these men is the Grand Duke Miridoff, at -least you must credit the fact that your father is in terrible danger. -I saw and heard the men who have planned his death. They are fully in -earnest. Don't refuse to believe what I say on that score. You know -how important he is to his country at this time. He must be warned at -once. It was the gravity of the situation that impelled me to tell you -such alarming news. I sincerely regret not having been able to spare -you this trying ordeal." - -The distress of the princess was so palpable that Fenton did not stop -for further words, but, bowing gravely, set off in anxious search of -the elusive Varden. He found him at last in the supper-room. Quickly -he told Varden of the plot and of his conversation with the princess. - -Varden received the news gravely, but did not appear much surprised. - -"We've been expecting some move from them," he said, "but I didn't -think they would go to such lengths as this. It's lucky you stumbled -in on their little gathering, Don. Now we know the cards they hold." - -"But where's Prince Peter?" - -"Safe," replied Varden. "He's out of their reach for the time being. -I expect to see him inside of an hour and can put him on his guard. No -need for worry, Don. We have the beggars checkmated whatever move they -make." - -Fenton smiled delightedly. The lust of conflict had seized him. He -was finding this new game extremely interesting. Even the attitude of -the Princess Olga could not dampen his ardent spirits; she would soon -find that he had been right, and Fenton looked forward to another -interview with her when a better understanding had been established. - -"By the by, Percy, there's one angle of this affair that puzzles me," -he said. "Who is Miridoff and what's his position with regard to the -Princess Olga?" - -"Miridoff," said Varden, "is the real leader of the Austro-German -party. He is of Austrian descent; quite a large section of the people -of Ironia are of Teutonic origin. He belongs to one of the branches of -the royal line of the Hapsburgs and is a large landowner. Until -recently he acted as director of foreign affairs for King Alexander, -but public opinion forced him out of office at the outbreak of the war. -Since then he's been directing the agitation for a Germanic alliance. -He's a man who will stand a lot of watching. To put it in the -vernacular, Miridoff is a bad actor." - -"But where does he come in with the princess?" persisted the Canadian. -"When I mentioned him as leader of that crowd of assassins she seemed -upset." - -"One would rather expect that," said Varden dryly. "You see the King -has the say-so in regard to marrying off all members of the royal -family, and it's pretty generally understood that he has picked out -Miridoff for Olga." - -"What!" In the one word Fenton expressed all the amazement, horror, -rage and infinite regret that he felt at the announcement of so -unbelievable a fact. - -"Yes, that's how things stand," said Varden, quite unconcernedly. "I -think the King has the idea that by bringing off the match he'll get -the two warring leaders closer together and perhaps wear down Peter's -opposition to the German alliance. It's rather a shrewd move on the -part of the old boy." - -"Varden, I could gladly strangle you for speaking of so unthinkable a -match in such a tone! Why, it's impossible!" declared Fenton. "Such a -thing wouldn't be tolerated in this civilised day. We're not in the -Dark Ages." - -"That's just where we are," replied Varden, amused at his friend's -vehemence. "These Balkan kingdoms are farther away from 1915 in point -of time than Ironia is from Canada in point of distance. Why, matches -of this kind are quite common--the rule in fact." - -"But--but will Olga consent to a marriage with this murderer, for -that's all he is?" - -"Of course," assented the other. "Olga is a sensible girl and has the -warmly patriotic temperament so common to these Balkan people. The -King's word is law, and beyond question. It's only a matter of time -until----" - -Fenton's rage slowly subsided, leaving only one phase of the case fixed -in his mind. She was irretrievably lost so far as he was concerned. -He had not seriously thought otherwise, of course, but every word that -Varden uttered widened the distance that yawned between a Canadian of -no particular rank, albeit a millionaire, and the semi-regal position -of a Balkan princess. He got up and walked to a railing near which -they had been standing, and stared morosely out into the tangled gloom -of the garden. He stood thus for a moment or two before he felt the -pressure of Varden's hands on his shoulder. - -"What ever can be wrong with you?" demanded the other, somewhat -testily. "Don't see any reason why you should take this to heart. -Anyway, the chances are that the princess won't have to marry Miridoff -after all. We're going to settle his hash before we get through with -him. Look here--you're not in love with the girl!" - -Fenton glared. Varden grinned. - -"Oh, ho!" said the latter. He started to laugh, then checked himself -sharply and patted his friend's shoulder. "So that's it? Never mind, -Don, you'll soon get over it. I wouldn't advise you to let -this--er--fancy of yours go too far. They don't take kindly here to -presumptuous strangers who show an interest in their princesses." - -Fenton squared around, as belligerent and impetuous again as ever. -"Look here, Percy," he demanded eagerly, "don't you think there would -be a chance? Can't these ten-centuries-behind-the-times ideas be -overcome when new-world determination and wealth and--well unbounded -love, are combined to overcome them?" - -"The idea's a new one," returned Varden. "As things have been up to -the present you haven't the ghost of a chance. But there's going to be -an upheaval, a general mix-up around here before the war is over, and -perhaps Ironia will come out of it with some new ideas. Anyway, all's -fair in love and war, and you're in both, I guess, now. Here's luck to -you, Don, you headstrong old smasher of social barriers! I don't wish -Miridoff any particular bad luck, but if I get a chance I'll direct a -bullet his way myself." - -"But look here," he added quickly, as another thought struck him, "you -shouldn't be standing there. You're a marked man, you know, and you -certainly make a fair target standing in this light. We had better be -off now for home. I'll just hunt up my wife and we'll get away. By -the way, I took the liberty of having your trunks sent up to our place. -You'll stay with us from now on." - -He drifted away and Fenton walked slowly back into the ball-room which -was now beginning to thin out. For a few minutes he stood staring into -the swaying ranks before him with eyes that saw nothing. He felt -constrained and gloomy again, so that the almost Oriental splendour of -the scene and the sensuous lilt of the music had no appeal for him. -Then he came suddenly to himself, as though startled into consciousness -by an electric shock. His glance had been arrested in its aimless -course and held by the glance of another. Across forty feet of -ball-room, interrupted by the frequent passing of whirling couples -through the line of vision, his glance held that of the princess. -There was interest, interrogation, perhaps something more, in the -seriously beautiful eyes of Olga. She was unattended for the moment. - -Like a sleep-walker, or a mesmeric subject, Fenton moved across the -floor, staring straight ahead and letting the dancers dodge him as they -might. He found himself standing before her and bowed with worshipping -deference. - -"His highness, the Prince Peter, is quite safe," he said in a low tone. -"I knew you would want to know. I found Varden and he is setting out -at once to give your father warning." - -The princess thanked him. Fenton, glancing at her earnestly, was aware -that her attitude had subtly changed. He made a bold decision on the -instant. - -"You said not so long ago," the words came rapidly, "that you would -like an opportunity to get away from the restrictions of royalty and -be--just one of the people for a time. Will you place yourself in that -position for just a few minutes now? I have something to say to you. -Will you permit me to speak, not as Donald Fenton, to Olga, princess of -the royal house of Ironia, but as one man to one woman?" - -The princess did not answer, but she did not glance away, and Fenton -read in her eyes interest, expectancy, perhaps even a little fear. The -experience of talking freely to a stranger, a young man, was distinctly -a new one for her, but hardly one that could be entered upon without -trepidation. To step from the well-ordered path of royalty, where -nothing happened but what has been laid down by, tradition, was like a -plunge into unplumbed depths. Suppose she found herself just a woman -after all, and capable of falling in love with young men who were tall -and straight with direct blue eyes and cleft chins? - -"Then it's settled," said Fenton. Nothing had been said, but both knew -that it was agreed he should proceed on the suggested basis. "I'm -going to talk to you as a man in Canada would talk to a girl he was -interested in; only more so, because I'm going to give you -advice--something that even a Canadian might hesitate to do the first -time he had met a girl. I've heard about Miridoff and--well, the rest -of it. All I want to say is, don't give in to them! Don't allow any -patriotic impulse to gain your consent to this monstrous match. The -man is a rogue, a would-be murderer. Perhaps back in the Middle Ages -it was considered proper for beautiful girls to marry men of his stamp, -but this is the year 1915. If you could only see this thing from the -new-world angle! Over there, not only is every man his own master, but -every woman her own mistress." - -Pausing a moment for breath, he hurried on: "A most extraordinary thing -I'm doing, isn't it? Standing up and lecturing you, and on whom you -should or should not marry, of all subjects! But I'm going to do a -still more extraordinary thing. Remember, I'm talking as a man to a -woman, and you for the moment are just Olga to me, not Princess Olga. -If a man meets a woman and knows her for the one he was destined to -love, and if he fears it may never be his great good fortune to see her -again, why--he tells her of his love!" - -He stopped, for over the face of his companion had come an expression -of mingled confusion and sadness. As the dying sun catches the -fleeting clouds and incarnadines them with a riot of red which spreads -and deepens and then slowly fades away, so the lovely face of the -princess became suffused with blushes. - -"I fear we must return to the more conventional basis, Mr Fenton," she -said hurriedly. "Perhaps what Olga might learn would serve to disturb -the peace of mind of Princess Olga--afterward. Please do not say any -more!" - -"As you wish." Fenton felt vaguely troubled. "You know what I desired -to say. That is sufficient. If I can ever be of assistance to you, -command me. Perhaps," and he stood up very straight at the thought, -"you may some day desire to step out of the mediæval ages into the -twentieth century, to live the free life that the women of the west -enjoy. If circumstances ever change so that you can order your own -future without obeying the dictates of kings and meddling statesmen--if -it ever comes to that, you belong to me! I love you; I loved you the -first moment I saw you. If you could remain just plain Olga long -enough you would come to love me too. I am so confident of it that, -when you slip back into your high station again, it is going to be a -great comfort to me that I could have won you if a king's whim and a -foolish custom had not stood in the way. And, do you know, I almost -feel that soon you will become very tired of being just Princess Olga -and long for the right to be Olga--a woman with a will of her own and -the right to place her love where she wills. Until that -time--good-bye, Olga." - -For a moment they looked deep into each other's eyes, and Fenton read a -message that gave him comfort, if not hope. Then he bowed very low. - -"Your highness, I wish you good night." - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE MEETING OF FOUR NATIONS - -From the glare and glitter of the ball-room they stepped out to wait -for their car--Varden and his wife and Fenton. The Baroness Draschol -was a very charming woman of a striking Latin type. Varden, a strong -man among men, was quite content to play second fiddle in the -matrimonial partnership he had formed with this beautiful young -Ironian. He fairly idolised her, and with every moment spent in her -society Fenton understood more fully why. She was plump, merry, with -flashing brown eyes that soon brought everything within their range -into thraldom, and a voice trained to charm by that greatest of -elocutionary teachers, Nature. She alternately petted her English -husband and drove him to raging jealousy by keeping a flock of Ironian -dandies in her train. The Baroness had paid Fenton the high compliment -of not attempting to flirt with him, recognising intuitively perhaps -that Cupid, the universal booking agent, had billed this blond young -giant for another engagement; certainly recognising, for she was a -shrewd young person and also very much in love with her husband, that -no matter who else she may lay herself out to captivate, it is never -wise for a wife to flirt with her husband's friends. Husbands do not -like it. Accordingly she had welcomed Fenton as a friend, and they -were already "as thick as thieves," as Varden put it. - -The motor-car rolled up and Varden helped his wife in. Fenton was -following when a figure suddenly sprang up from the darkness beside -them and ran forward. The stranger's arm came up as he ran. As the -man from Canada sank into the seat, two shots rang out in quick -succession. Fenton felt his hat go and, with the sudden forward lurch -of the car, he fell into the empty seat in front. This probably saved -his life, for the second shot missed by a safe margin. At the first -alarm, Varden sprang to his feet, and, after gazing hurriedly around, -threw himself in front of his wife to shield her from the fire. - -"On! Top speed!" he called in Ironian to the driver. - -The latter responded promptly, and before the assassin could attempt -another shot they had bumpily navigated a cobble-stoned curve and were -skimping away over the pavement with a momentary increase of momentum. - -"That was meant for you, Don," said Varden, settling back into his -seat. "Hurt?" - -"Never touched me!" responded Fenton. "Hat's gone, that's all. I'm -convinced now that they really do take their politics hard in this -country." - -They soon arrived at the big house in the Lodz. In the hall Varden -lingered a moment to whisper to his guest. - -"Go right to your room and wait there for me. There's big business -afoot to-night." - -Fenton waited impatiently in his room. In a few minutes his friend -appeared with a couple of heavy cloaks of dark cloth. - -"We haven't much time," said the latter. "Slip into this and muffle -yourself up well. It's chilly enough out at this hour, and in addition -it wouldn't be healthy for us if we were recognised. Sharp's the word. -The others will be waiting." - -"You're most infernally mysterious about it all," grumbled Fenton. -"Where are we going? What others? There aren't any more rhododendron -patches to be visited, are there?" - -Without replying Varden led the way outside. They let themselves out -by a rear gate and quickly plunged into a maze of side streets. The -city was more or less deserted. The air was chill and damp and the -first streaks of dawn were breaking up the leaden darkness of the sky. -They had walked for several minutes, for the most part along narrow, -dingy streets with ancient houses on either side that seemed ready to -totter forward through sheer old age, when Varden turned sharply and -came to a stop in front of one of the largest and quaintest houses they -had encountered. It was as dark and still as its neighbours on each -side. - -"Stairs are creaky, step lightly," whispered Varden, producing a -latch-key which gave them entrance to a dark and narrow hall-way. -"Can't be too careful, you know. Even a creaking stairway could be -heard out there on the road now. The very walls have ears these days." - -Clambering cautiously up two flights in darkness of Stygian intensity, -they came to a landing across which fell a narrow strip of light, -emanating from under a doorway. Varden knocked softly three times in -quick succession and then twice slowly. The door was instantly opened -and they stepped into a dimly lighted ante-room. The man who had -admitted them wore the uniform of an officer of the Ironian Guards. - -"You are late," he said. "Your friend?" - -"By the prince's permission," responded Varden. - -The officer disappeared into an inner room and returned almost -immediately, motioning them to enter. They found themselves in a long -room, very richly decorated. Fenton thought how oddly out of -consonance it was with the outside appearance of the house. Around a -long table eight men were seated, one chair being empty. - -Fenton started and could hardly forbear from rubbing his eyes. Surely -the tall man seated at the end of the table was the great English -diplomatist, Sir John Chester? - -The Canadian looked again and became convinced that his eyes had not -been playing tricks with him. There was no mistaking the man who had -figured so largely in the foreign policy of the British Empire. Spare, -straight and muscular, Sir John was easily the outstanding personality -in the group around the table. - -And, piling surprise on surprise, next to him sat Monsieur D'Aubignè, -the famous French diplomat. Sir John was speaking as they entered, -each word falling with the incisive emphasis that was one of his -best-known characteristics. Prince Peter was there too, seated beside -a man whose face was vaguely familiar to the Canadian. Fenton studied -the handsome, heavily bearded countenance of the stranger for a moment -before he recognised him as Count Grobenski of the Russian Foreign -Ministry. The rest of the group were quite unknown to Fenton, but he -concluded that they were Ironians. - -Then he remembered certain hints that Varden had let drop that -afternoon to the effect that representatives of the allied nations were -in Serajoz. Varden had been very mysterious about it, but Fenton had -gained the impression that the object of their visit had been to bring -Ironia to a definite stand. - -Prince Peter rose and greeted the new-comers with a bow, motioning -Varden to the vacant seat and indicating that Fenton should place -himself in a chair at some little distance from the table. No words of -introduction were spoken, but the members of the conference -acknowledged Varden's addition to their ranks with formal bows. Fenton -felt the cold, judicial gaze of Sir John Chester fixed upon him for a -moment, and was also aware that the other men in the room subjected him -to a more or less close scrutiny. Then the discussion proceeded in -French. - -"As you are aware, you, as representatives of the allied nations, are -in Serajoz at my personal invitation," Prince Peter said. "Ironia has -held back from entering the war because of our inability to gain -unanimous support for any one policy. In arranging for this conference -I was hopeful that it would result in uniting the factions, in -convincing our people that the interests of Ironia are identical with -the allied cause. Unfortunately I was unable to gain the consent of -His Majesty to a formal meeting of the Advisory Council to discuss the -war situation with you. I took it upon myself to meet you thus -secretly with such members of the King's advisors as I knew to be of -our way of thinking, as it was apparent to me that, before we could -take any positive steps looking to Ironia's entry into the war, it was -necessary that we have a definite understanding. We must know exactly -where we stand before we take any determined steps to convince His -Majesty that Ironia must join forces with the nations you represent. -This explains the conditions of secrecy under which it has been -necessary to hold this meeting. Your presence in Serajoz, gentlemen, -is a secret shared only by those at present in this house. I have made -arrangements for your safe departure. It is my earnest belief that -within a week it will be possible to welcome you back in your official -capacities to sign a treaty on behalf of your respective Governments, -linking Ironia to the allied cause. - -"Now as to the terms under which we could enter this war," he went on. -"I believe we have reached unanimous agreement on all points. Britain -would guarantee to finance us. Mulkovina and Serania would be restored -to us in the event of victory. We, for our part, would be expected to -place an army of half a million men in the field, fully equipped, and -to maintain this force for the duration of the war. We have your -assurance also that our loss in the export of petroleum to Germany -would be fully met by the taking up of our total output by the allied -nations. So far all is quite satisfactory from the standpoint of -Ironia. - -"I cannot let this conference dissolve, however, without setting forth -in the clearest light possible the position in which our country -stands. I do not want you to carry away the impression that this is a -business proposition on our part, that we have waited until we could -drive a hard bargain and enter the war with the surety of gain. Let me -tell you that Ironia has suffered long at the spectacle of her sons and -daughters ground down under the foreign yoke in the lost provinces. -The only thing that has kept us from attempting to force justice by -arms has been the knowledge that we would have absolutely no chance -single-handed against the colossal might of Austria. If we enter the -war now it will be not for considerations of national profit, but to -free our brothers in Mulkovina and Serania from the hated yoke. Other -considerations that have entered into this discussion have been -necessary in view of our impoverished position as a nation." - -In the pause that followed, Varden, seated at Prince Peter's left hand, -whispered in his ear. The prince lent earnest attention and apparently -considered the news that the Englishman brought of the gravest import. - -"Mr Varden has brought to my attention a matter that must be considered -before we disperse," said the Ironian leader. "The arrangement we have -reached to-night depends upon my ability to secure action on the part -of Ironia. It was tentative in that respect; you have pledged the -honour of the nations you represent, but in no other respect is the -agreement binding." - -He paused as though reluctant to proceed. - -"We can give no written guarantee," said Sir John, "as we are not -dealing officially with the Government of Ironia as yet. I have, -however, full authority to pledge the Government of Great Britain to -the arrangement decided upon." - -"If the honour of France is pledged by an accredited representative is -any further guarantee necessary?" asked Monsieur D'Aubignè with an -eloquent gesture. - -"I am not asking anything which cannot be given," said Prince Peter. -"But I have just learned that events are shaping themselves on the -Russian frontier which may seriously affect the relations of our four -nations. The Russian forces are mobilising close to the Mulkovinian -frontier, and there are evidences that an immediate advance is -contemplated." He wheeled around and faced the Russian representative -squarely. "Perhaps Count Grobenski can tell us of his Government's -intentions. If the province is occupied by Russian troops, without -Ironian assistance, will this agreement hold?" - -The Russian diplomat returned his gaze steadily, but did not reply for -a moment. The calm inscrutability of Slav diplomacy was reflected in -every line of his countenance. - -"Your information is quite correct," he replied finally. "I did not -mention the fact of our mobilisation at that point as it is not -customary to publish advance information of military movements. Is it -necessary to impress on all present the advisability of keeping this -information as strictly confidential?" - -He paused again before proceeding. When he resumed, it was with -slowness and deliberation as though each word required careful choosing. - -"The plans of our general staff provide for an advance on our extreme -left," he said. "If the movement is successful our armies will sweep -across Mulkovina and Serania. I have no authority to pledge the -restoration of these two provinces to Ironia if their permanent -occupation is accomplished before Ironia joins us. The arrangement we -have reached to-night is conditional, so far as Russia is concerned, on -Ironia's entry before the movement I have mentioned begins." - -There was a strained silence in the room. Monsieur D'Aubignè made a -motion as though to whisper to the Russian, but thought better of it -and subsided into his chair. Sir John Chester watched the two central -figures in the discussion with silent concentration. - -"What length of time does that give me?" inquired Prince Peter at last. - -"Ten days at the most," replied Grobenski impassively. "The plans of -our strategists must go forward without delay. The machinery of the -Russian Army cannot be stopped while Ironia hesitates. I am speaking -plainly, your highness. The situation must be clearly understood -between us." - -"Prince Peter has promised us that a decision will be reached one way -or the other without delay," said Sir John. "I take it, Count -Grobenski, that you can give him a week? Your pledge will hold good -for that length?" - -"Yes, my authority warrants me in going to that length," replied -Grobenski. "But permit me to impress this fact. In view of certain -considerations--some of which have been discussed to-night and some of -which have not--if Ironia does not enter the war now, she might as well -stay out!" - -The conference broke up. Fenton saw Prince Peter leave the room -conversing in low and manifestly earnest tones with Sir John, while -Count Grobenski and Monsieur D'Aubignè walked out together, the -latter's hand on the Russian's arm. The French statesman was -expounding volubly. - -When Fenton saw Prince Peter again it was in the ante-room. The -representatives of the Allies had gone. Those left included Varden and -one of the other Ironian representatives at the conference. - -Varden then related the other side of the plot that had been overheard -in the palace gardens. Prince Peter did not seem as disturbed as he -had been at the information vouchsafed with reference to the Russian -advance. He seemed inclined to treat the matter lightly. - -"I do not fear them," he declared. "They would, no doubt, do me a -mischief if they could. But I do not see why I should feel concern -over the possibility of death from an Ironian bullet when we are -working for an opportunity to risk our lives on the battlefield." - -"But don't you see that Ironia's future depends upon your safety," -urged Varden. "If they succeed in putting you out of the way, our -chances of success will be infinitely small." - -"I shall take every precaution, of course," promised the prince. "You -can depend upon me not to risk myself unnecessarily. And now we must -devise some means of following more closely the efforts of our -adversaries. It is quite clear that they will stop at nothing." - - - - -CHAPTER V - -AN ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION - -As they spoke, there came a knock, three taps in rapid succession, -followed by two slowly. The officer on guard opened the door a few -inches and peered out into the intense gloom of the landing. After a -brief colloquy in whispers with the new arrival, he stepped back and -threw open the door. Came a woman, muffled up so securely in a cloak -that nothing of her face and form was visible. She stepped into the -area of flickering light provided by the dim gas jet and, loosing her -cloak, threw back the hood. - -Fenton's first impression was one of astonishment at her unusual -beauty; his second an odd sense of recognition. She was -small--_petite_ perhaps would give a more accurate impression--but -somehow her smallness seemed an essentiality. Although almost -doll-like in sheer perfection of beauty, there was no suggestion of -fragility about her. Her hair was a shimmering mass of golden curls -dressed with a carelessness that was art itself. Bluest of blue eyes -sparkled with animation; devastating eyes, no doubt, when their owner -so wished, though now they glowed with serious purpose. The mouth was -made for team play with the witching eyes, but it was firm too, very -firm, as though she got whatever she wanted. "A determined little -person," thought Fenton as, standing back in the gloom, he studied her -face. "A little person to be friends with; and, unless I am mistaken, -a little person who would make a very staunch friend. But I'm not sure -that I would want to stand in the way of the little person's plans." - -The new-comer was immediately drawn into an earnest conversation, -conducted in low tones, with Prince Peter and Varden. The two men -showed the greatest deference in their attitude toward the girl--a -deference which apparently had its roots in deeper soil than men's -regard for a mere pretty face. When she spoke they listened -attentively and seemed to attach weight to her opinions. Fenton could -not catch what they said so he contented himself with watching the -girl, struggling meanwhile to fix that elusive sense of familiarity -that became stronger in his mind every moment. Where had he seen her -before? Then it came to him suddenly, a graceful gesture of the little -person's arm supplying the necessary clue. - -In his mind's eye he saw a crowded assembly hall, a large stage rather -dimly lighted and a little figure that suddenly appeared in the centre -of it. He saw her rise on her toes, smile a wonderful smile that -seemed to grip the hearts of the fashionable audience and then glide -into such a dance as the nymphs must trip as the first faint shafts of -dawn warn them that their nightly revels are over. Anna Petrowa! - -After a few minutes the prince stepped back into the room where the -conference had been held and Varden turned toward his friend. - -"Come here, Fenton," he said. "Mam'selle, permit me to present our -latest acquisition, Mr Fenton from Canada. Fenton, this is Mam'selle -Anna Petrowa." - -Fenton bowed, and the Little Person, for as such Fenton had -unconsciously pigeon-holed her in his mind, smiled. The smile brought -back more vivid recollections of her triumph of that evening when he -had watched her interpret divine music with her flying feet. - -"I saw Mademoiselle Petrowa on her tour in our country," said Fenton. -"That was three years ago and it need hardly be added that I recognised -her." - -The dancer looked up at him and smiled again. She had relaxed from the -serious attitude maintained during her conversation with Peter and -Varden, and did not seem at all adverse to the prospect of winning -admiration from this big stranger. - -"I like your Can--ada," she said, speaking English with musical -limitations. "Some day I go back. Then perhaps I meet Mistaire Fenton -again?" - -"I trust our next meeting won't be so long deferred as that," said -Fenton heartily. "I'm expecting to stay here in Ironia for some -time--or until the little matter in hand is settled. I've enlisted -myself as general assistant to Varden." - -"And he's plunged right into the thickest of it already," put in -Varden. "He hasn't been in Ironia twenty-four hours yet and he's -already stumbled in on a secret meeting of the Society of Crossed -Swords, dodged half a dozen bullets, insulted Miridoff to his face and -made love to--some of our fairest ladies." - -"I believe anything of Mistaire Fenton," said Mademoiselle Petrowa, -"and especially that which you say last. But have care, Mistaire -Fenton, these belles of Ironia--perhaps they aim their deadly glances -more true than the men can shoot." - -Their laughter at this sally was interrupted by the return of the -officer, who had been summoned previously to the inner room. - -"His highness would speak with Mademoiselle Petrowa," he announced. - -When the door had closed leaving them alone together, Fenton turned -eagerly to Varden. - -"You promised me plenty of excitement if I stayed here," he said, "but -this is certainly exceeding expectations. Anna Petrowa, _première -danseuse_, engaged in an exciting intrigue in Ironia and turning up at -a most ungodly hour of the morning in the dark ante-room of a -mysterious house! What else have you got up your sleeve, anyway?" - -"Let me tell you about the real Anna Petrowa," said Varden. "It will -probably surprise you to know that she has been a Russian secret -service agent for many years. She was born in Moscow, of very poor -parents. They died while she was young, and I guess she had a pretty -trying start in life, taking things all round. She was drafted into -the Imperial ballet finally and soon made her mark as a dancer. At -fourteen she had won recognition as a coming star. At nineteen all -Europe was at her feet. She was a little over twenty when we saw her -in Toronto, and at that time she had already been enlisted into the -ranks of those who follow the most thrilling and dangerous game in the -world--secret service." - -"Twenty-four hours ago I wouldn't have believed all this," asserted -Fenton, "but now anything seems possible. But look here, how in -thunder does she happen to be in Serajoz?" - -"She was dancing in Vienna when the war broke out," explained Varden. -"It was not safe for her to remain there, so on instructions from -Petrograd she came to Ironia to assist in watching Russian interests -here. She naturally gravitated into close touch with our camp and we -have found her our most valuable and active assistant." - -"But what part can a pretty woman play in this rough-and-tumble -business?" asked Fenton. - -"Well, you see Mademoiselle Anna has made the acquaintance of one -Lieutenant Neviloff, who is right-hand man to Miridoff. Neviloff has -fallen head-over-heels in love with our bewitching Anna, and--well, she -can simply twist him around her little finger. So you see we have a -most excellent method of getting inside information from the opposite -camp." - -Fenton whistled softly. - -"She's playing a pretty dangerous part, is our famous Mademoiselle -Little Person," he said. "If they got on to the fact that she's -working with us, I suppose it would go hard with her." - -"The Lord have mercy on her if Miridoff ever suspects what she's -doing!" said Varden gravely. "From now on she's going to be doubly -valuable to us. You see, it's going to be necessary to watch them -closely to forestall any attempts on the life of the prince. And we'll -have to depend on Anna Petrowa for that. I don't know which of them is -likely to stand in the most danger from now on, Prince Peter or our -little dancer." - -At this point the rest of the party returned from the inner room and an -immediate move toward the street was made. - -"There are two cars waiting in the next street for us," whispered -Varden, as they cautiously descended the creaky stairs. "I am to -accompany the prince home--sort of bodyguard, you know. Will you -perform like service for Mademoiselle Petrowa?" - -They stepped out into the street to find that the darkness of night had -given place to the light of early dawn. It was decidedly chilly. -Fenton wrapped himself snugly in his cloak and dropped back beside the -diminutive, muffled figure of the dancer. - -At that instant a startled shout from ahead broke the stillness. -Fenton saw a figure suddenly loom up out of the darkness with arm -upraised. Something flashed bright in the hand of the unknown -assailant as he hurled himself directly at Prince Peter. - -Fenton could see that the man with gleaming dagger raised to strike the -blow that would throw the control of Ironian destinies into the hands -of the King's party was not alone. Another ruffian had emerged from -the shadows of a deep court and was struggling with Varden. He could -see that the prince, taken off his guard, had recoiled a step and was -endeavouring to draw his sword, around which his cloak had become -wrapped in a sudden flurry of the wind. All this the Canadian took in -during the fraction of a second following the warning shout from in -front. Instantly he stripped off his cloak and plunged ahead, throwing -a word of warning back over his shoulder to his companion. - -Fenton had been a star half-back in his college days. He covered the -intervening space in faster time than he had ever done when the -touch-line was ahead and the opposing wing men thundered after. The -sound of his flying feet caused the assailant to pause and glance in -that direction, which probably saved the prince's life, for before the -dagger could descend Fenton's fist had found the fellow's jaw with a -glancing blow. The blow was partly spent when it landed, but it had -enough force left behind it to spin the assassin around to one side. -The next moment Fenton's left hand shot forward and gripped the dagger -arm. - -The assassin was a wiry fellow, built on the lines most commonly seen -in the Near East. He had short, bowed legs, powerful shoulders, arms -of almost gorilla-like length. His large, hairy hands had an almost -Simian strength, as Fenton found in the struggle that ensued. The -fellow fought with the fury of a wild beast, writhing and snarling and -struggling to reach Fenton's throat with his free hand. It was all -Fenton could do to ward off that powerful paw which would choke the -life out of him once it had found its grip. At the same time, it -required all the strength he could summon to hold back his opponent's -right hand, which still grasped the dagger. - -They swayed back and forth, each straining for an advantage. It was a -long time before the assassin relaxed his strenuous efforts for a -winning hold. Finally, however, Fenton's chance came. His opponent -stopped for a moment for breath, and his left hand dropped. Instantly -Fenton stepped back and planted a short-arm upper cut in the general -direction of his face. It landed fairly on the point of the chin. The -ruffian crumpled up at the knees and dropped back on the ground with a -thud. The knife, slipping from his fingers, clattered on the pavement -at Fenton's feet. - -The latter paused a moment for breath, then groped carefully for the -knife in the dark. His hand had closed on the handle when Varden -called to him. - -"I've managed the other one," he said. "Let's make a clean get-away -while we've got the chance. Discretion is the better part of valour, -particularly when you've fixed up the lesser part of it." - -Glancing around, Fenton was rather astonished to find that, with the -exception of the recumbent figures of the two would-be assassins, they -had the street to themselves. The prince and Anna Petrowa had -disappeared. Before he had a chance to express his surprise at this -circumstance, Varden linked arms with him, and led the way at a brisk -pace from the scene of the encounter. Turning the first corner, they -espied a motor-car, the huddled figure of its driver silhouetted -against the sombre, grey-black sky. Varden spoke one sharp word in -Ironian, and opened the door. They slipped into the seats, and the car -glided noiselessly away. - -"Well," said Fenton when they had settled back comfortably, "where did -the others go?" - -"The prince's safety was, of course, the first consideration," -explained Varden. "Then, of course, he couldn't risk being seen had -anyone been attracted by the noise. If it were known that Prince Peter -had been mixed up in an affair of this kind, awkward questions would be -asked. Accordingly he waited until he saw that we were able to handle -the pair, and then he quietly got away, taking Anna with him. It was -extremely important that she should not be seen. By this time they've -got safely to the other side of the town." - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -THE KING'S COMMAND - -The Princess Olga rose late the next morning. It is a popular myth -that persons of royal blood live an entirely different kind of life -from the rest of humanity. The universal conception of the life of -royalty does not go much beyond gilded carriages, stately balls and -glittering banquets. That a princess is liable to relax, to quarrel, -to pout, to wheedle, to preen before mirrors, to enjoy the stray bits -of gossip that a confidential maid may retail, to read forbidden novels -on the sly, in fact to behave the same as any girl of the same age, is -a view-point that few have really accepted. - -There may have been princesses who lived the prim, stately kind of life -that is popularly ascribed to them, and did not allow themselves to be -affected by the emotions and weaknesses of common folk, but certainly -Olga was not numbered among them. Olga was a princess on the fairly -numerous occasions when appearances in state were necessary, but the -rest of the time she was just a wholesome, vivacious girl--a girl who -liked to ride and play tennis, to wear French clothes and read English -novels and to bully everyone in the establishment, from her father -down. She was certainly the most unconventional of princesses. - -It was well after eleven when a ray of sunshine, finding its way -through the heavy damask curtains, had the temerity to seek out the -spot where Olga's head nestled snugly in the pillows. Her eyes -fluttered and opened. She sat up a little grudgingly, shook back her -tangled curls, and rubbed firm knuckles into unwilling eyes--just a -pretty, sleepy-headed girl after all. - -Anyone who knows anything about royal households knows that the first -act of the day is to ring a bell which summons a retinue of maids. -This is an established rule--of the novelists. But Olga did nothing of -the kind. In the first place, there was no electric bell to ring, for -Prince Peter's establishment, while very large and picturesque, was not -fitted up with all the latest improvements; and in the second place, -she would not have rung the bell had there been one. Instead, she -slipped out of bed into a pair of warm, woolly slippers, ranged -methodically on the floor with a precision that bespoke long practice. -Then she went to the window and drew back the curtain a cautious inch -or two, while she inspected the look of things outside. Satisfied on -that score, she proceeded unaided with her toilet, and it was not until -the really formidable problem of restoring her unruly curls to order -presented itself, that a maid was summoned. - -As the maid worked, she talked. Perhaps it was because she had found -it necessary to talk in order to distract her royal mistress's -attention from the tugs and pulls that invariably accompanied the -difficult task of hair-dressing. Perhaps it was because all maids -talk. The maid is generic and the Ironian type has as confirmed a -failing for chatter as her sister in England or America or Thibet--if -such an institution as the handmaid exists in the latter place. What -is more, maids talk to princesses as well as to the daughters of -brewers and tradesman and manufacturers. - -The reason why so seemingly trivial a matter is mentioned here is that -the chatter of Marie on this particular morning had a most far-reaching -effect. If it had not so happened that Marie, who was part French and -proud of it, had that morning talked to one of the coachmen in the -household who had just returned from an errand to the residence on the -Lodz occupied by Varden, where he had conversed with Paula, -maid-in-waiting to the Baroness Draschol; and again if Paula had not -overheard certain remarks between Varden and his wife, which she -confided to the coachman, who in turn passed the news on to Marie; if, -we repeat, any link in this chain of communication had failed, the -whole future of the picturesque and warlike kingdom of Ironia might -have been changed; certainly the future of one, Donald Fenton, might -have been very materially altered. But all the "ifs" duly -materialised, the highly interesting piece of news was handed along -with the astonishing celerity with which such news travel in the under -strata of society, and in due course Marie bustled into her mistress's -room with the information fairly tingling the sharp end of her pert -tongue. It was as though in working out a particularly intricate play, -the Master Chess Player had shoved a pawn to its appointed square. It -may be added that the information thus freely bandied among the -servants of the two households was safe in their keeping. The Ironian -in the kitchen will chatter to his fellow of what happens in the saloon -above, but will suffer his tongue to be cut out before he gives -anything away to the outside world. - -The story that Marie had thus picked up was a more or less complete -outline of the attempt made to assassinate Prince Peter early that -morning and the part Fenton and Varden had played in it. With a skill -that showed the buxom maid to be a diplomat of no mean order, she let a -hint or two drop. The princess, her interest aroused, sharply -questioned the adroit Marie and in due course got to the bottom of the -maid's store of information. It may have been that, animated with the -desire of your true raconteur to give the auditor the best -entertainment, Marie elaborated a little on the original facts, -deepening the sanguinary nature of the conflict, multiplying the number -of the assailants and thereby gilding in the most vivid colours the -valour of the heroic Varden and the strange "Amereecan," whose name she -had forgotten but in whom Olga readily recognised the impulsive Fenton. -It having been demonstrated to her satisfaction early in the recital -that her father had not been injured--Marie had seen him with her own -eyes several times that morning--the princess permitted her chief -interest to centre on two points, viz., the handsome stranger and the -identity of the woman who had been in the party. On this last point -Marie, much to her sorrow, had to acknowledge a complete lack of -authoritative information. - -During her breakfast, which was served in a cosy boudoir overlooking -the gardens, the princess was very thoughtful, and at the same time -restless. She toyed with the food and surprised the attendants into a -bustling efficiency of service by her petulance. She had intended to -ride, but changed her mind when the word came that her favourite mount -was ready. Instead, she wandered into her sitting-room and ensconced -herself in a sunny window with a book and her thoughts for company. -They fought it out for supremacy, but it did not take long for the book -to drop into second place. It was only after staring steadily at one -page for ten minutes that she became aware of the fact that she was -holding the volume upside down. When she realised this, she allowed it -to slip off her lap to the floor and, tucking her feet up under her on -the couch, gave herself over to unrestrained introspection. - -The story gleaned from the voluble Marie had given an added impetus to -a natural tendency to revert to the events of the preceding evening. -The attempt on the life of her father confirmed the story that Fenton -had told her and brought conviction home on the score of the duplicity -of Miridoff. She felt convinced now that the Canadian's version of the -plot had been the truth in every respect. Thus she felt that she had -done him an injustice--and the thought was a peculiarly disturbing one. -A still more disturbing aspect was the matter of the future, now that -she could estimate the real character of the man who might be selected -as her husband. If the influence of Miridoff remained in the -ascendant, she knew that nothing would dissuade the King from his -determination to bring about the match. Alliances of an almost equally -infamous character had been quite common incidents in the chequered -history of the Balkan Kingdoms. - -Had anyone been privileged to watch Olga as her mind grappled with this -almost terrifying phase of the situation, it would have been seen that -lines denoting determination crept into her face--evidence of a newly -formed intention not meekly to accept the fate so cruelly and callously -marked out for her. - -There is a resiliency about the mind of the young that permits of rapid -transitions of mood. The thoughts of Olga soon strayed from the grim -possibilities suggested by the danger to her father and the -machinations, both political and matrimonial, of Miridoff, into more -pleasing channels. From every fresh topic that suggested itself, her -mind went back promptly and inevitably to thoughts of Fenton, until -finally she gave up all pretence and permitted her fancy to dwell with -frank intentness on this interesting stranger. She admitted, to -herself, the fascination she had found in him, and on analysis decided -that it lay in the fact that he was absolutely different from any man -she had ever met before. The type she knew, the Ironian of the upper -class, was of short stature and almost Oriental swarthiness--suave, -plausible, a diplomatic trickster, avaricious and limited in view-point -to the traditions of his little country. Fenton had affected her much -as a cool, bracing wind appeals to the jaded traveller on the desert -where nothing has been encountered but fetid, almost poisonous air. - -And then Fenton had dared to talk to her without any of the -restrictions, the insincerities or euphemisms of courtly conversation. -She went over again his daring hypothesis. Supposing she ever found -the opportunity to face the realities of life, not as the princess but -as Olga--the woman--what then? Could it be that what he had hinted at -would actually come to pass? - -Her chin found a resting-place on her arms. Her eyes were fixed with -earnest intentness on the garden beneath, but they were filled with -sights much less material. She saw beyond the court, beyond Ironia, a -life full of all that could make life worth while--liberty, sincerity, -love. She glimpsed many golden scenes from a possible future in which -courts and crowns and royal pomp had no place, and from which Miridoff -and her other Ironian suitors were strangely missing. - -The gorgeously caparisoned footman, entrusted with a message for her, -had to speak three times before she came back from the golden kingdom -of Youth's Dreamland. - -"His grace, the Grand Duke Miridoff," announced the footman, bowing -obsequiously in exit. - -Miridoff crossed the room toward her with military precision and -dignity. He was a rather striking figure of a man, straight and but -slightly inclined to portliness. Although in the early forties, his -heavy beard gave him the appearance of being somewhat older. The Grand -Duke's Teutonic derivation was most strikingly shown in the lines of -his face. His eyes were clear, direct, domineering. Altogether he -looked exactly what he was--a bold intriguer, thoroughly daring and -unscrupulous and efficient to a degree. - -The princess rose to meet him, extending a hand on which the Grand Duke -imprinted a kiss rather more fervid than court etiquette required. It -was noteworthy that, during the interview which ensued, both remained -standing. Both realised that a crisis had been reached between them. - -"Your highness, I am pleased to see that you are well and not unduly -fatigued after the ball," he said. Then, after a moment's pause: "I am -assured your highness is well aware that I would not have taken the -liberty of so early a call had I not desired to discuss a matter of the -utmost importance with you. Have I your permission to proceed at once -with the object of my visit?" - -The princess bowed in assent. - -Her companion deferentially took her arm and led her over to a -window--the very window through which she had gazed a few minutes -before, while thrilling but impossible day-dreams crowded her mental -horizon. Olga again fixed her gaze on the garden beneath; but this -time her visions were of a different nature. She saw a future that was -sombre, dull and drab, in which happiness was sacrificed to stern, -forbidding duty and in which one figure--domineering and -repugnant--stood out. - -"There is a matter which has never been discussed between us," he said, -vainly endeavouring to bring her to look at him, "although we both have -understood it--the King's plans concerning us. I have just left His -Majesty and I come to you on his suggestion--nay, on his command. His -Majesty has seen fit to select me as your future husband. It was my -desire that I be permitted to speak to you first. His Majesty enjoined -a speedy effort on my part to reach an understanding with you." - -Still Olga did not look up. Her day-dreams had fallen in ruins about -her. Her fate, in the form of Miridoff, had overtaken her, and was -demanding recognition. A half resolution slowly formed in her mind. - -"The position," went on the Grand Duke, "is a difficult one. I know -that I can discuss it quite frankly with you. His highness, your -father, is unfortunately opposed to me at the present time on matters -of state policy, but the arrangement that our all-discerning King has -honoured me by making is one that will outlast all political -differences. May I plead that the divisions now existing be not -allowed to influence your regard for me nor to stand in the way of my -great good fortune?" - -Olga turned her face toward him for the first time and regarded him -seriously and intently. Still she did not speak. - -"It was in consideration of a possible prejudice that may have crept -into your mind against the party I represent and which may have even -extended to me personally that I begged the privilege from His Majesty -of addressing you before his august wishes had been communicated to -you," pursued Miridoff. "I feared that false impressions might have -taken lodgment in your mind which I felt confident I could dismiss. -And"--he leaned closer toward the girl--"I feared the affect of -malicious gossip which I knew would surely reach your ears." - -"No gossip can influence the opinion I have formed of your grace," said -the girl steadily. - -There was a note of quiet finality in her voice that would have been -discernible to anyone with a less decided ego; but Miridoff either -failed to notice it or did not pause to determine the correct -interpretation. He went on confidently: - -"The wishes of His Majesty are, of course, not to be gainsaid. I was -too sure of your loyalty to entertain any doubts on the score of your -consent, but I wanted to just lay before you testimony to my sincere -devotion." He concluded with a low bow. - -The self-assurance was so openly reflected in his attitude and in every -word he uttered that the half-formed resolution in her mind became -crystallised on the moment into a fixed determination. - -"I trust that my loyalty to His Majesty will never be called into -question," she said quietly, "but I cannot give my consent to what he -has willed in this matter." - -A flush of anger swept across his face. His cool assurance left him -and a tendency to bluster became apparent. - -"Do I understand," he demanded, his voice hard and rasping, "that you -intend to disregard the express command of His Majesty?" - -"I will not--I cannot marry you," said Olga. "I must ask that you -accept this answer as final. If you entertain for me the devotion that -you say, show it by using your influence with the King. Urge him to -withdraw his decision." - -"May I ask," said Miridoff coldly, "the cause for this inexplicable -repudiation of the King's wishes? Why can you not become my wife?" - -Olga faced him squarely. Her eyes flashed, her voice rang clear and -high. - -"A daughter's devotion comes before a subject's obedience!" she -declared. "I refuse to marry the man who has plotted against my -father's life! I believe in speaking my mind openly, your grace," she -went on hurriedly. "If I could but bring proofs to His Majesty of what -you are doing----" - -This outburst did not entirely surprise Miridoff. He had fully -expected that some word of what was going on beneath the surface of -things would reach her. It was largely with a view of getting matters -settled before further proofs of his duplicity could come out that he -had gone to King Alexander early that morning and urged a settlement. -Miridoff was not above wooing the girl at the same time he planned to -encompass her father's death. He was, therefore, not entirely -unprepared, and met the situation coolly. - -"A most extraordinary charge you bring against me," he said with well -simulated surprise and an elaborate show of sarcasm. "May I ask on -what it is based?" - -"Why maintain this pretence?" asked the girl, regarding him steadily. -"It is part of your creed to stop at no obstacle that lies in the way -of the fulfilment of your plans. My father stands in your way and we -both understand, your grace, that you will not hesitate to sweep him -aside if the opportunity comes. Perhaps I should not blame you so much -as the system you represent. You stand for the principles that have -been uppermost throughout the whole history of our unfortunate country! -You have so little sense of right and wrong that you are surprised when -the daughter of the man you are doing your best to destroy refuses to -accept the hastily considered dictum of her King to marry you." - -The princess had stepped away from him. Miridoff regarded her with a -sudden passion that was remarkable in one of his deliberate purpose. -She was indeed beautiful to look upon, more beautiful than ever now -with her cheeks flushed and her eyes flashing their message of -contempt. He watched her almost hungrily from beneath his dark brows. -A strong approbation of her had always possessed him. In a sort of -superior way he had admired her, and had pressed his claims -persistently before King Alexander. But now her opposition fanned in -him a deeper flame. It suddenly came to him that henceforth every -consideration other than the winning of this woman for himself would be -of minor importance. A ruthless determination to overcome her took -possession of him. But his craft did not desert him even in the face -of this all-powerful emotion. - -"I know the source from which this charge emanates," he said with a -sneer, "and I am surprised that you take the word of an adventurer. -However, I do not now endeavour to refute the charge, as events are -shaping themselves which will eventually demonstrate how little truth -there is in the story." - -He was attempting to draw her out. A slight wave of colour that swept -her pale face momentarily betrayed the interest that the princess felt -in his veiled allusion to Fenton. A question almost escaped her, but -she quickly checked the impulse to seek further explanation. - -"There is an agent of the British secret service in Serajoz," went on -Miridoff deliberately. "His name is Fenton. His errand is to do as -much damage as he can to the German cause. His methods are typical of -the perfidious nation whose dirty work he does. He has been in Serajoz -but one day, and has already started his campaign of insidious lies. I -have his record: a spy of the lowest order who once offered to sell -secrets of the British Foreign Office to the Germans, and who is -suspected even by the unscrupulous men who employ him. I feel it is my -duty to warn you----" - -"It is false!" The words escaped her in a sudden gust of anger at -Miridoff's uncompromising charge. Next moment she was sorry she had -permitted herself to be thus tricked into an avowal of interest in the -Canadian. But her consternation was no greater than that felt by -Miridoff. In her hasty exclamation and the championing flush of her -face, the leader of the Society of Crossed Swords had discerned -something that he had not previously suspected. - -"She is actually interested in the fellow," he said to himself. -Miridoff had recognised Fenton's power to do him harm, but had never -thought of him as a possible rival. - -"Olga!" The word, tense with feeling, escaped from him. It was the -first time he had addressed her other than in terms of correct -intercourse. Olga recognised something of the turmoil that was raging -within him from the tone of his voice and glanced up. Unerring female -instinct laid his secret before her: Miridoff was really in love with -her! - -"Olga," repeated the Grand Duke, "I never before realised what the -fulfilment of the King's wish means to me. I want you for my wife." - -The princess became cool again in the face of this sudden declaration. -"My mind is fully made up," she said. "I am sure His Majesty will not -adhere to his decision in view of my unalterable opposition. And so, -your grace, I must ask that the subject be considered closed between -us." - -"You force me to extremes!" exclaimed Miridoff, roused to angry bluster -again by her steady opposition. "Let me tell you this: the King's mind -is made up. There are important reasons for the match. He will not -permit the whims of a girl to interfere with plans upon which the -welfare of the state depends." - -"Perhaps," cried the girl warmly, "when King Alexander learns the truth -about his servant, the Grand Duke Miridoff, he will realise that the -welfare of the state demands the removal of that servant to some place -where he will no longer be dangerous!" - -Miridoff recognised that further efforts at persuasion would be -useless. He turned to leave the room, but paused again for a moment. - -"I have presented the case to you in but one light," he declared. "It -was my desire that you obey the King's command willingly. But now let -me tell you that nothing can stand in the way of your becoming my wife. -His Majesty is determined. I am prepared to take an unwilling -bride--and no power on earth can stand between us!" - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -GENERAL LEBRUN - -Worn out from the excitement of the night, Fenton slept well through -the forenoon. When he finally wakened it was to a realisation of -stiffened muscles and a general feeling as though he had been drawn -through a threshing machine. He seemed one mass of bruises. A warm -bath effected a partial revival, and then slowly and laboriously he -found his way into his clothes, paying tribute with every move to the -prowess of his unknown antagonist of the previous night's mêlée. - -He found his host most impatiently pacing the library. Varden had not -been down long himself but, to judge from his attitude, he had already -come into possession of important news. - -"Just in time, Fenton," said Varden briefly. "In ten minutes I'd have -gone without you." - -"Where?" asked the Canadian. His tone seemed to evidence a certain -lack of interest, due possibly to his breakfastless condition. - -"To the station," replied Varden. "I just got wind of an interesting -piece of news. General Jules Lebrun, the hero of the French Army, is -passing through Serajoz to-day on his way to Russia to consult with the -General Staff of the Tsar. He has a stopover of a few hours, and his -entertainment has been entrusted to me. As you probably surmise," went -on Varden, lowering his voice to a discreet pitch, "the time that the -General spends with me will not be entirely given over to social -amenities. He has certain papers bearing on a suggested plan of -campaign in case of--certain eventualities--which are to be handed to -me. We may get an opportunity to discuss various phases of the plan. -You understand, of course, the reason why this work is in my hands. It -would not be politic for a member of the Ironian General Staff to be -seen with the French general. I will serve as a go-between." - -Fenton had spent the greater part of the time following the outbreak of -the war in the south of Russia, so that such news of the progress of -the campaign as reached him had been decidedly meagre. Nevertheless he -had heard much of the spectacular work of the great little victorious -French general, and Varden's news kindled in him a keen desire to see -the famous fighter whose dashing tactics had done so much to win the -Battle of the Marne. And then an idea occurred to him. - -"Varden," he said, "has it occurred to you that the general's visit can -be turned to great purpose in deciding the wobbling policy of Ironia?" - -"In what way?" asked the other. - -Fenton shook his head sadly. "As a newspaper man you always fell down -hard when it came to grasping the dramatic possibilities of a story. -As a diplomat it seems you are just the same. Percy, don't you realise -the advertising value of Lebrun's visit to Serajoz? He has come right -at the psychological moment to produce the proper dramatic effect. - -"The Ironian people are Latin and so claim kinship with the French," he -went on. "The influence of France is shown in every phase of Ironian -life. The factor in deciding the sympathies of Ironia, next in -importance to the question of the two lost provinces, is the love and -admiration that the people here have for everything that pertains to -France. Now then, Lebrun's exploits have been told and retold from one -end of Ironia to the other. Just let it become generally known that -he's in Serajoz, and you'll stir up a demonstration that will open the -eyes of your stubborn King! I tell you, Percy, it's a heaven-sent -opportunity. The hoarse roar of a thoroughly enthused mob will -accomplish more than the carefully considered whisperings of all the -diplomats in the country." - -"But," protested Varden, "I must have an opportunity to talk with him. -A popular demonstration is not just the best background for a -discussion on tactics." - -"Have your talk first," said Fenton confidently. "Then take our trump -card out in an open fiacre and drive him slowly down the Lodz. Be sure -that the good news is circulated well in advance. I tell you what--let -me stage-manage this affair. I was always rather strong on the -dramatic possibilities." - -They talked the plan over in whispers, while Fenton bolted a ten-minute -breakfast. Varden then hurried away to keep his appointment, and the -Canadian began the busy task of arranging the "props" for the brilliant -demonstration he had planned out. - -No inhabitant of Serajoz will ever forget that day. The news that -General Lebrun was in the city spread like wild-fire. His name was on -every lip within an hour. Thousands of excited and enthusiastic -Ironians rushed to the station only to learn that the little general -had duly arrived and been promptly whisked away. Crowds gathered in -the streets. Ironian and French flags were displayed on all sides, -impromptu processions were organised, songs were vociferously chorused -by the ardent townspeople, the "Marseillaise" being heard as often as -the Ironian national anthem. Later, when Percival Varden drove out -into the Lodz in an open fiacre with a little white-haired, powerful -man beside him, the stage was all set for a demonstration, the like of -which Serajoz had not seen since the memorable day when Alexander -Sobiesku, first King of Ironia, was crowned. - -The fiacre drove slowly up the Lodz between solid banks of agitated -humanity. "Lebrun," "France," "War," were the words that one heard -rising from out of the babel of sound. Excited men climbed on the -steps of the carriage to grasp the hand of the gallant little -Frenchman. Swords appeared above the heads of the mob, and the clamour -for war became insistent and belligerent. The demonstration reached -its height when the carriage rolled into the Square of Triumph, where a -huge bronze statue of Sobiesku, the national hero of Ironia who had -defeated the Turks in the War of Liberation, reared itself proudly -above plashing fountains and luxuriant foliage. Here, immediately -beneath the figure of the grim old warrior, they encountered another -carriage containing Prince Peter. The King's brother rose and warmly -grasped the hand of the grizzled French general. For several seconds -they stood thus, while the crowds thundered their appreciation of the -tableau. - -Standing back in the dense throng, Fenton witnessed the scene with -double appreciation, for he had himself suggested, and, in fact, -arranged the setting. "Pretty effective," he said to himself. "If -this doesn't shake the country off the fence I am out in my -calculations." - -He felt a pressure on his arm as though someone had gently tugged his -sleeve. Next moment a slip of paper was pressed into his hand. Fenton -turned as quickly as his crowded surroundings permitted but could -discern nothing in the swarthy faces of those nearest him to indicate -who had been responsible. Elbowing his way out of the crush, Fenton -made his way to a deserted corner of the street and eagerly inspected -the note. It was written in French in a feminine hand and contained -neither address nor signature, merely the words: - - -"Dine at eight to-night at the Continental. Important." - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -THE QUARREL - -The Continental Hotel at Serajoz is known to all travellers by -reputation at least. It ranks with Shepherd's Hotel at Cairo, the Eis -Arena in Berlin, Giro's at Monte Carlo. At the Continental one meets -diplomats, statesmen, secret service agents from all countries. Many -an extra tangle in the Near-East question has been tied at quiet, -informal parties on the terrace of the Continental. The second Balkan -War, when the rest of the Confederacy joined arms against Bulgaria, was -planned one evening around a marble-topped table in a secluded corner -of the terrace. Here revolutions have been plotted, dynasties have -been overturned, assassinations have been coolly debated. To the -average traveller the Continental is not in any degree different from -other hotels of the same order except that it is perhaps a little -larger, a little noisier and a little more tawdry in its appointments. - -But ask an official of any of the foreign offices of Europe. You will -get a polite and blandly evasive reply at first, of course, for that is -the way of foreign offices; but get into the confidence of some -official and he will tell you stories that make the wildest of fiction -seem colourless and banal. - -Fenton took his seat at a corner table on the terrace. He had confided -his mission to Varden, who had earnestly recommended him to disregard -the mysterious summons. Varden was convinced that the invitation was -part of some plot, and quite as positive that Miridoff was behind it. -There was too strong a tinge of romance to the whole incident, however, -for Fenton to accept this prudent advice. The mystery drew him like a -magnet, and accordingly the appointed hour found him at his corner -table, watching the crowds that surrounded him with interest, while he -puffed innumerable cigarettes. - -The thronged terrace presented a cosmopolitan air that was fascinating -to the Canadian. There were all sorts and conditions of men and women. -Here a prince, scion of a ruling house; there a parvenu millionaire, -every line of him and every move shouting his newly acquired wealth to -the world. A party of American tourists, scintillating spots of fire -from the jewels of their womenfolk, occupied one table. A thief of -international fame lounged through, eyeing the company insolently. A -fluffy mondaine on the arm of an officer laughed and chatted as she -passed. Members of the highest nobility rubbed elbows with gamblers of -the most doubtful antecedents. Beauty and vice sat side by side. - -Fenton took it all in, but at no time did the thought that had obsessed -his mind for the past twenty-four hours leave him. Fenton was in love. -He had no doubts on thai score himself. Most men have many love -affairs and are deceived often, but when the _grande passion_ comes -they know. Fenton knew. Not for one waking minute since he had first -seen Olga had he forgotten her. This had lasted a day by ordinary -computation of time, an age according to the calendar of Cupid. She -was at once the most wonderful, the most beautiful and the most -inaccessible woman in the world. The Canadian's reason told him that -he could never hope to win her, but his heart whispered to him to go in -and win. Of one thing he was certain, that he would never leave Ironia -while any possible hope of winning her remained. - -The hope was strong in Fenton that the mysterious message was in some -way connected with the object of his adoration. His eye had but one -object in scanning the brilliant crowd with eager interest--to see if -by any chance she were in the company. - -The soft swish of a woman's gown warned him of a close approach to his -table. Before he could turn a voice spoke almost in his ear, a very -pleasant voice too: - -"Good evening, Mistaire Fenton. It is most fortunate that you dine -alone. I have something to say to you of the most importance." - -Fenton sprang to his feet. It was Mademoiselle Petrowa. - -"This is most unexpected good fortune," he said. Then he glanced -around hurriedly. "But is it not indiscreet? Is it safe for you to -make it known that we--er--know each other?" - -"Quite," and her silvery laugh broke in ripples. "Come, do not look -so--so tragic, is it not? Sit down and invite me to be of your -company. I will then explain." - -They seated themselves, Fenton still very dubious, she with demure -grace. For a moment neither spoke. The little dancer regarded her -companion with an intentness, behind which seemed to lurk an almost -roguish interest. - -"It is this way," she said finally. "I am playing what you call the -double game. I find for your friends all that I can, but they--the -other side--think that I work for them. It is needed that I so do, -else I cannot be of use to the great cause, Monsieur Fenton. I tell to -them some things that are so and many things that are not. The Duke -Miridoff has entrusted to me many missions, and this morning he comes -to me." - -She paused and requisitioned a cigarette, lighting it daintily and -deliberately. - -"This is what I am to do," she said. "I am to watch one, Mistaire -Fenton, most closely, to win his confidence, and if possible--but of -course it is not so--to make him make love to me. Is the work my good -Miridoff sets likely to be of the most difficult, mon ami?" - -Had Fenton known of the scene between the Grand Duke and Olga of that -morning he would perhaps have been able to understand the motive that -had prompted the former thus to set a watch on his movements. Had he -known the furious thoughts that surged in Miridoff's brain as he left -the palace after the interview he would have understood why the little -dancer had been deputed to win attention from him; and, knowing this, -he would have been in a position to anticipate what followed. But as -it was Fenton could make nothing out of it, and so stared across the -table at his merry companion with palpable amazement. - -"You mean that Miridoff has instructed you to follow me and to work up -a flirtation between us?" he demanded. "What object can he have in -that?" - -"Is the--what you call it?--prospect--so dismal then that you must look -so?" laughed his companion. "As for me, I am most frank, monsieur. I -have had missions more disagreeable. But come, it cannot hurt you to -help me play well my part. Smile, _mon ami_, look pleasant. The -gentle Miridoff will have those here who report how Anna Petrowa does -her work. See, I take one of these roses and put it in your -buttonhole." - -Plucking a bloom from the bouquet on the table she leaned across the -table and deftly fixed it in his coat. For a moment their heads were -close together. A stray tendril touched his face. She whispered in -French: - -"_Monsieur, I have news--big news. Listen closely----_" - -There was a sudden interruption. A young man in the uniform of the -Royal Guards of Ironia rose from a nearby table and stalked towards -them. The dancer caught her breath in a way that almost suggested -fright, and subsided into her chair. The officer frowned at her -angrily, ignoring Fenton entirely. - -"Anna," he exclaimed in Ironian, "come with me at once. I insist!" - -"By what right, Lieutenant Neviloff?" demanded the girl. - -"Come at once," repeated Neviloff in a hectoring tone. "I must not be -trifled with. You are trying my patience." - -The Canadian had not understood a word of the conversation, but he -rightly judged the nature of it from the attitude of the others. - -"What is it all about?" he demanded. "Shall I send him politely about -his business or just drop him over the balcony?" - -"Allow me to present Lieutenant Neviloff, Monsieur Fenton," said the -girl, anxious to avoid a scene. - -Fenton rose, and the two men faced each other steadily. The officer -ignored the introduction, glaring at the Canadian in the most offensive -way. - -"Mademoiselle Petrowa accompanies me," he declared in broken French. -"I warn you, fellow, to be more careful in future. Anna, come at once!" - -"Not so fast!" exclaimed Fenton, his choler rising. "I don't like your -way of doing things, Monsieur Lieutenant. Mademoiselle Petrowa stays -where she is!" - -Neviloff turned a furious red and took a step closer to Fenton with a -threatening gesture. "You foreign pig!" he said through gritted teeth. -"Leave while you may with a whole skin. You try my patience much. I -shall spit you with my sword if you remain longer in my sight!" - -Fenton laughed--a short, ominous laugh. - -"You miserable little whipper-snapper!" he said, both fists clenched -and itching for action. "If ever let myself go and lay hands on -you---- Get out yourself before my patience runs out!" - -"If you were of rank to be worth notice," retorted Neviloff with angry -contempt, "I would slap you with my glove in the face, and then -to-morrow morning I would end your miserable life. But as it is----" - -A shrug of his shoulders and a gesture eloquent of his contempt -followed. Fenton suddenly lunged forward and seized the officer's arm -with a grip that almost paralysed that member. Half leading, half -dragging, he propelled the unwilling lieutenant toward his own table. -Arriving there, Fenton forced Neviloff down on his chair so hard that -it went over backward, taking him with it. - -"There," said Fenton. "Now behave!" - -Neviloff scrambled to his feet with more expedition than dignity. His -face was crimson with wrath and humiliation. With a sudden fury he -half drew his sword from its sheath. - -"It is too much!" His voice was high and shrill. "I kill you for -this. This evening a friend of mine shall wait upon you. To-morrow I -shall honour you, pig of a foreigner, by killing you, as I would a -gentleman." - -"Go as far as you like," said Fenton nonchalantly, turning back. - -He walked back to his table to find it empty. The Little Person had -gone. Fenton paid his score and left. He idled about the Lodz, which -was brilliantly lighted at night, and on the Duntzig, where the -orchestras played, for an hour or so, enjoying himself fully. The -incident on the terrace he had dismissed from his mind. He did not, as -a matter of fact, expect ever to hear of it again, but when he reached -home Varden greeted him with a face of tragic concern. - -"Look here, what have you been doing?" demanded the latter. "An -officer of the Guards has just been here with a formal challenge from -Neviloff. What in heaven's name have you done to offend him?" - -Fenton laughed almost incredulously. "You must be joking," he said. -"I haven't done anything. This Neviloff fellow tried to take -Mademoiselle Petrowa away from me over at the Continental. He was most -offensive about it. I stood as much as I could from him, and then I -just led him back to his seat and made him behave." - -"Is that all?" asked Varden in mock surprise. "Didn't you perform any -little trivial politeness such as breaking a rib or two, or leave him a -souvenir in the way of a couple of black eyes? Damnation, Fenton, they -fight duels in this country on the strength of a side-glance of the -eye, a shrug of the shoulder, an inflection----" - -"Have I got to fight him then?" asked the Canadian. - -"It looks like it," said Varden gloomily. "Either that or make a quick -exit from the country." - -"Which last is, of course, out of the question," said Fenton -positively. "Still I'm in rather a fix. I won't put up much of a -fight I'm afraid. Do I have the choice of weapons?" - -"Yes, as challenged party you can choose the method by which this -Neviloff will kill you." - -"I know as much about a harpoon as I do about a sword," said Fenton -reflectively. "I can shoot a little though. Make it pistols." - -"Say, Don," protested Varden tragically, "what is it all about anyway? -How did you come to get into such a mess?" - -Fenton told him the whole story, and at the conclusion Varden swore -vindictively. - -"It was all arranged," he declared. "Miridoff is behind this. He -instructed the girl to make up to you, and then had his handy man there -to force you into a quarrel--a nice convenient form of assassination, -quite worthy of Miridoff." - -"Do you mean that Mademoiselle Petrowa was in with them too?" asked -Fenton, astounded. - -"No, of course not. I would stake my honour on her. Miridoff probably -suggested that she make up to you, and, seeing an easy avenue opened up -of getting into communication with us, she assented. Then Miridoff -works this other trick and--there you are! Don, for the love of heaven -clear out while you have the chance. They'll kill you sure if you -stay!" - -"I can't go," said Fenton firmly. "It would brand me as a coward--and -I cannot leave that kind of a reputation behind me. But, Varden, -there's one thing--I don't understand what Miridoff's game is in regard -to Mademoiselle Petrowa! Why should he want her to entangle me?" - -"I can see several likely reasons," answered Varden. "You have earned -his resentment in the first place, and Miridoff always pays off his -scores. It served as a good pretext for Neviloff to pick a quarrel in -the second place. And thirdly--Miridoff is jealous. Your escapade of -this evening will be reported in a certain quarter in a way calculated -to injure you in the eyes of--a certain person. You see I know -Miridoff thoroughly." - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -A NIGHT OF RIOTS - -Fenton had recognised the possibilities of a popular demonstration for -the great French General, but if he had known how far public feeling -would be aroused, he undoubtedly would have hesitated before suggesting -that capital be made out of the timely visit of the French hero. As -things turned out the appearance of the grey-haired general on the Lodz -set in motion such waves of racial enthusiasm and warlike frenzy that -Serajoz experienced one of the wildest days and maddest nights in all -its wild and mad history. - -The terms of the duel had been settled between the sadly perturbed -Varden and a saturnine officer who called on behalf of the aggrieved -Neviloff, and the former sat with his principal in a balcony that -overlooked the seething, turbulent Lodz. It was after eleven o'clock, -but the crowds were not thinning out, and the tumult seemed to be -increasing in violence all the time. - -After half an hour's earnest argument Varden had given up hope of -persuading the Canadian to depart from the capital before he fell a -victim to the skill of Neviloff, and now sat eyeing, glumly, the -animated scene below. Suddenly, above the noise of the mobs, came the -electrifying crackle of musketry. First there were a few sharp -explosions, then gradually the firing settled down into the sustained -din of a steady fusillade. - -"That means trouble!" ejaculated Varden. "The Guards must be firing on -the people down around the royal palace, judging from the sound." - -Moved by a common impulse the two men rose. Varden brought out heavy -caps and cloaks, so that when they emerged into the street they were -effectually disguised. - -"Lead on, right into the thick of it," admonished Fenton. "I'm afraid -we've missed something!" - -They had. When they reached the square in front of the royal palace, -they found it jammed with excited humanity, except for a significant -radius around the entrance. Drawn up across the imposing gates was a -double file of soldiers. - -"The Guards fired on the mob. A couple have been killed!" exclaimed -Varden, who had picked up the information from the excited shouts of -those around them. "The fat's in the fire, Don! If Alexander holds -out much longer they'll burn the palace to the ground." - -In the surging mob the pair were soon separated, Varden being borne off -bodily in a panicky rush of the people to avoid a threatened charge by -the soldiers. Loath to return home while the excitement ran so high, -Fenton drifted along with the crowd. He witnessed a demonstration in -the course of which every window in the Austrian embassy was smashed. -He saw Turkish shops and Austrian restaurants raided. Street fights -became a mere incident. The clamorous cry for war was heard on every -hand, coupled with execrations of King Alexander. On one public square -the stubborn sovereign of Ironia was burned in effigy. - -About one o'clock Fenton found himself in a small Greek restaurant on -one of the narrow mercantile streets that run off the Duntzig. He was -hungry enough to overlook the uninviting appearance of the place and -the decidedly rough-looking crew who crowded about the tables. He -shared one table with a picturesque old foreigner with a battered, -time-worn countenance, and apparel that bespoke either poverty or utter -disregard for appearance. Fenton stared at the grimy menu card printed -in Ironian that a tatterdemalion waiter presented, and pointed to one -of the items haphazard. Luck was not with him, his selection proving -to be a sallow omelet of uncertain composition but positive odour. One -look at the steaming mess and Fenton's appetite took wings. He pushed -the plate to one side. - -"Monsieur has not learned to appreciate native cookery," said the -foreigner, glancing up and speaking in excellent French. "Monsieur -perhaps speaks French?" - -"He does," replied Fenton. "And decidedly he does not appreciate -native cookery." - -"For ten years I have been an exile from my beloved France!" sighed the -old man. "It has been hard, monsieur, very hard. But the hardest part -has been to subsist on the reeking, nauseous stuff that these Ironians -call food. But time can work any miracle, monsieur. To-day I, -François Dubois, with a palate that once was educated to the highest -Parisian standard, can eat even the omelet of an Ironian cook -and--forgive the blasphemy, monsieur--call it good!" - -Fenton twisted his chair around so that he could regard his table -companion more closely. The old Frenchman had a care-lined face from -which a pair of black eyes looked out with a virility strangely at -variance with the lifeless grey of the mask in which they were set. - -"How do you happen to be living in Serajoz?" Fenton asked curiously. - -"It's a long story and would weary monsieur's patience in the telling," -replied the old man. "In a word, I came here with a company of -strolling players--I was an actor and a musician, monsieur. Ironia was -in a bad way ten years ago. A revolution threatened, war with Turkey -was feared, the Government was nearly bankrupt. We made so little -money that our company disbanded in Serajoz, and here has Francois -Dubois remained ever since, picking up a meagre living by teaching -music to such pupils as he has been able to find. The thought that -some day I would save enough to return to France has kept life in this -useless old body, monsieur. But that hope is now almost gone!" - -"You know Ironia well then?" suggested Fenton. "Tell me, what is the -real sentiment of the people? Is this all froth or do they really want -war?" - -"The people of Ironia want war!" said the old man soberly. "Listen to -me, monsieur, for I know of what I speak. They are a deep lot, these -Ironians, deeper than most people think--fiery in love, implacable in -hate, consistent in gratitude, eternal in revenge, deep, deep. They -hate the Turk and the Austrian. They want to win back the lost -provinces, and would rather win them back by fighting for them. The -smoke of battle is incense in the nostrils of the Ironian." - -The old man wagged his forefinger portentously at Fenton. - -"If there is one man in Ironia blinder than all others it is King -Alexander," he went on. "I, Francois Dubois, say so. Monsieur, I feel -in the prophetic vein to-night and I am telling you this: that -Alexander will not give in to the people. He is a stiff-necked man, -this Alexander, and he believes in the divine right of kings. His -pledged word as a monarch is more to him than the welfare of the -country over which he rules. He will not budge one inch, monsieur, and -I see the day not far distant when, as first step to making the war -they have willed, the Ironians will take from Alexander his crown. No -king can balk the will of a nation to-day--not even a nation in the -Balkans!" - -"You really think it could happen?" asked Fenton, a little incredulous. -"If they did depose Alexander, who would succeed him?" - -"The Prince Peter, perhaps," replied the old actor. "Or, more likely -still, Ironia would become a republic like my own dear France! Ah, -monsieur, it would almost reconcile me to dying in this country if I -knew that the freedom of France had at last reached Ironia!" - -"A republic!" ejaculated Fenton, bright visions flitting before him, -conjured up by the old man's words. A republic meant the breaking down -of social barriers, the abolition of royal families--and, therefore, of -royal marriages. But then he perceived the absolute futility of the -idea. What did it matter to him whether Ironia became a republic or -not? That morning he was due to offer himself as a target to Neviloff, -and the outcome did not seem at all uncertain. Almost unconsciously he -started to talk to his companion, telling him of the impending duel. - -"It is not uncommon for visitors to become embroiled with native -officers, monsieur," said the old man. "Many a duel has been fought on -grounds that smacked strongly of robbery. The upper-class Ironian, -monsieur, is a cut-throat, a thief, with the manners of a gentleman but -the instincts of a pirate. But," and he shrugged his shoulders, "I -would not fear the outcome. I know my Ironian well. He is devilish -handy with the sword, but a poor shot, an atrociously bad shot. Have -courage; you are more likely to wing him yourself. And in any case, -the duel--it has not often the fatal ending. Look at me, monsieur. In -my day four duels have I fought--and at sixty-two I live to teach music -in the gutter of Europe!" - -Considerably comforted by the old man's words, Fenton took down his -address on a card and left, promising to look Monsieur Dubois up on the -first opportunity. - - * * * * * - -At dawn the Canadian accompanied Varden to a misty, silent field on the -outskirts of the city, there to wait for Neviloff and his friends. -They waited long past the appointed hour, until Varden, who had come in -a mood of almost despairing protest, began to cheer. - -"Something's gone wrong," he said finally. "Neviloff would not funk -it, of course. This sort of thing is all in the day's work to -Neviloff. But a hitch has occurred somewhere." - -As he finished an officer came across the field toward them. He -saluted and spoke in Ironian to Varden. - -"Saved, Don!" exclaimed the latter when the officer had left. "Once -again have you managed to evade the consequences of your rash conduct. -Neviloff can't keep the appointment. The riots last night became so -bad that the troops in the city have been ordered to remain under arms, -and the gallant lieutenant will be chained to duty until the situation -becomes less acute. In the meantime his slighted honour must go -without redress. He sends most profuse apologies--for not being able -to kill you this morning. Come on, Don, I feel as though I could enjoy -a good breakfast now." - - - - -CHAPTER X - -FATE & CO. - -The particular department of the well-known firm of Fate & Co., to -which had been deputed the difficult task of weaving a train of -circumstances that would plunge a nation into war, had been working -overtime during the forty or so hours that Donald Fenton had been in -Serajoz. The web was being surely and unerringly spun, and already -certain skeins that represented human lives had been closely -interwoven. Three lives, indexed in the ledgers of Fate perhaps by -soul numbers, but distinguished from other mortals on earth by the -titles of Donald Fenton, the Grand Duke Miridoff, and Olga of Ironia, -were so hopelessly tangled, it was apparent that in the unravelling -process one or more might be snapped off. Peering at what was ahead, -the grim official saw two men stand face to face with the world-old -issue to be settled between them, at the same time that angry mobs -stormed palace walls for a cause that a stubborn king had forsworn. - -And with this objective in view the minion of Fate first prompted a -prudent thought to take possession of the mind of Prince Peter that -morning, and then saw to it that a whisper of a restaurant brawl and a -duel, impending or already fought, reached the ears of the Princess -Olga. Acting on the first, Prince Peter decided that in its upset -condition Serajoz was no place for his daughter, and notified her that -he had decided she must go to his county estate at Kail Baleski until -such time as the trouble blew over, and acting on the second, Olga -hurriedly summoned her carriage and set out for a house on the Lodz -where resided her very great confidante, the Baroness Draschol. Not -content with this, the untiring tangler of human skeins prompted a -certain little person of exceptional personal charm and international -antecedents to don the garb of a peasant woman, muffling her face in a -hood, and to set off on foot by sundry unfrequented streets and alleys -bound for the same residence in the Lodz. - -When he had seen that the princess entered by the front portal at the -very moment that the pseudo-peasant knocked at a rear entrance, and had -furthermore satisfied himself that Donald Fenton had risen from the -breakfast-table and had strolled aimlessly into the library, there to -wait for his host who had been called away, the official of Fate was -content to sit back and let events take their course, confident that -now his human puppets could not deviate from the lines he had laid down -for them. - -Baroness Draschol received her royal friend in her own sitting-room, -which was just across the hall from the library. There they chatted -for some time. Olga soon gleaned such information with reference to -the postponed duel as the prudent Varden had seen fit to trust to his -wife. In the meantime the peasant woman, who had asked at the rear -door first for Mr Varden and then for Mr Fenton, and had been admitted -only after the transfer of a gold coin, had been escorted to the -library, where she removed the heavy hood, revealing the pleasing -features of Anna Petrowa. - -Fenton, who was becoming inured to surprises of all descriptions, -accepted this transformation with equanimity. - -"Good morning, mademoiselle," he said, setting a chair for her. "I am -delighted to see you, but not surprised. Nothing out of the ordinary -has happened for half an hour or so. I felt that the inactivity -wouldn't keep up much longer." - -"I am so more than glad that monsieur has come to no harm," said the -dancer quite earnestly. "I see it all now. It was a plot to trap you, -and I an innocent part playing in it. But monsieur, I see, does not -think of me as the double traitor." - -She placed a finger on her lips to enjoin silence, and then, tip-toeing -over beside him, whispered: - -"I had not time before we were interrupted to tell the big news that I -have learned, and thus have I risked all by coming here so in the broad -daylight. It is this: Many of the army officers are with our cunning -Miridoff, and a plot is spreading to force Ironia into war against -Russia by the same means that they used with Turkey. A body of Ironian -troops, acting without official orders, will cross the line to Russia -and burn a village or so. The Russians, of course, they retaliate, and -then war is certain to follow. It is all arranged, monsieur. Where or -when I do not know. Word, I beseech, must be taken at once to his -highness." - -Fenton sprang up and paced the floor excitedly. "Of course, it is -exactly what they would do," he exclaimed. "Last night has shown them -that they cannot win by fair means. Mr Varden is out, mademoiselle, -but will be back in a very few minutes. Word shall be taken to Prince -Peter as soon as he returns." - -In the course of a minute or so Fenton's thoughts, occupied with the -important information that she had brought, turned to the consideration -of how so vital a piece of news had been obtained. He stood in front -of his intrepid companion and regarded her with stimulated interest and -quite frank admiration. - -"I can't understand it at all," he said. "Try as I may I can't really -associate you with plots and counter-plots and secret meetings, and -associations with all the rag-tag and bob-tail of Balkan intrigue. You -are so fair, so young, so--well, so completely feminine that I can't -see how you succeed in work that belongs, by its very nature, to the -rougher animal, man." - -"You are mistaken, Mistaire Fenton," she protested, "and your mistake -is so thoroughly masculine! It should not be difficult for a woman to -do the work I am doing. It is the work a woman can do best; it is -subtle, it requires keen observation of the little things, it means -that always the right word must be used; it needs some personal charm, -monsieur, and a thorough knowledge of how to exploit it. Women--and -women only--can be depended upon for the more delicate missions of -secret service. It is man--direct, blundering, outspoken man, who -thinks judgment better than intuition--who does not fit into the -picture." - -"You put it so well that I am almost convinced," smiled Fenton. -"Still, I don't like to think of you having to associate with the likes -of Miridoff and his murder crew. There are two spheres in which I like -to picture you--on the stage earning the plaudits of the world, and in -a cosy chair on the hearth of some lucky man's home." - -"You are quite hopeless, _mon ami_," she sighed. "Your view-point--it -is so masculine--so one-sided. Man regards woman in but two ways--he -wants to possess her and to show her off. If she feels that she must -achieve more than man's fatuous approval he frowns, objects, bullies, -even uses force to stop her. Is it not so?" - -"It is clear that you have travelled over much in America," said Fenton -with a laugh. "Are such ideas common among the women of your own -country?" - -"Advanced thought, it is found everywhere," she replied. The -conversation was becoming too abstruse for her scanty English, and she -abruptly changed to French, where she was more at home. "In your -America the positions have been reversed. There it is the woman who -has the complete freedom and the man who is tied. The American--he is -too easy. He has but two functions left to him--business and the -support of his women-folk." - -"Mademoiselle is a sage, I see, as well as so many other things," said -Fenton, not a little puzzled at the change that had come over her. -From a dainty little person, full of coquettish wiles and sidelong -glances, she had suddenly become a serious woman, full of the fire of -earnest purpose and determination. Genuinely interested, he asked, -"Tell me, mademoiselle, do you really like this life? Can you enjoy -it, with all its dangers, its insincerities, its cruelties?" - -For a moment she did not answer. Her glance wandered to a window and -fixed itself on outer space, while a smile that was at once brave and -wistful played at the corners of her mouth. - -"Yes, I like it, _mon ami_," she said. "It is hard; it robs one of -treasured illusions; it takes the silver finish off life and shows the -brass beneath. A woman who plays the great game misses much that women -are supposed to want--and do want. It may be that these things will be -missed from my life, but--I will not regret them. This life means that -I am standing alone, fighting against things, combating circumstances, -and shaping them to my own ends, trying to grasp from an unwilling hand -the fruit success." - -"You are right," said Fenton emphatically. "It is the fight for -achievement that makes things worth while. It is seldom though that a -woman comes to a realisation of so virile a philosophy of life. There -I go again," he said with a laugh. "My purely masculine judgment of -women! But tell me of your experiences. I am sure you must have -things to tell which would be of great interest. You have seen much of -this sort of thing--this--what our statesmen call diplomacy." - -Anna was nothing loath. In her inimitably pretty way she told of her -life from the time when she first joined the Russian Imperial ballet, -relating incidents in her struggles as a dancer, but more of her life -as an agent of the secret service. She told of a certain affair at -Monte Carlo, when documents had to be abstracted from a personage of -royal rank; of the theft and recovery of important naval plans which -had been the key to a significant and tense international crisis. - -Fenton listened to her with an interest that was all engrossing, but -all the time there remained at the back of his mind--despite her -earlier admonition--a sense of incongruity. There was something -irreconcilable with the accepted order of things in this dainty -butterfly doing the work which kept nations from each other's throats, -or helped to precipitate them into conflict. - -As she talked the aforementioned Grim Official stirred himself up to -complete certain complications that he had planned. He caused the -Baroness Draschol to leave the Princess Olga for a moment. He impelled -the latter to rise and stray into the hall. He then brought the dancer -to her feet with a rather incredulous "How I have talked!" while she -almost unconsciously put both hands into Fenton's and looked up into -his face. - -Neither of them heard the soft swish of a skirt in the hall. Neither -of them knew that the curtains had parted. - -"I have been so interested," said Fenton. "You are really wonderful!" - -Then he turned in time to look into the rather startled, rather -incredulous, rather angry eyes of Princess Olga. It was but for a -moment, then the curtains fell back into place, and the intruder, with -a murmured word of apology, had melted away again. - -Having thus succeeded in effecting the desired situation, Fate & Co. -proceeded briskly with what was to follow. Varden was brought into the -library by another door, and into a most solemn conference with Anna. -A brief meeting was engineered between Olga, the Baroness and Fenton, -during which the Princess, with the coldest of courtesy, expressed her -gratitude to Mr Fenton for the part he had played in saving her -father's life, while Fenton, abashed and miserable, watched her with -adoring eyes and a tongue that refused to attempt the difficult task of -explanation. Then a few precious moments were vouchsafed him alone -with her. Olga did not appear too well pleased, but accepted the -situation with good grace. - -"Mr Fenton is staying long in Ironia?" she asked politely. - -"I hardly know," replied the Canadian. "It will depend upon -circumstances. I thought I might be useful here, but so far my -presence has only served to create trouble." - -"Perhaps we of Ironia do not understand your ways," she said, looking -him very steadily in the eyes. "We may perhaps be too prone to take -you seriously in everything you do--and say." - -"Your highness, I trust you do not charge me with insincerity," said -Fenton earnestly. "I have not been conscious of uttering a word which -I have not meant. Let me explain----" - -"It will be perhaps well for the simple maids of Ironia if Mr Fenton -does not stay too long," went on the princess in even tones. "The -strange new ideas that he holds of love, and all pertaining thereto, -and the boldness of his address, might perhaps impress too deeply such -as did not realise he was bent solely on amusement." - -"You do not understand," said Fenton, "and you are unjust. You would -understand if I explained everything to you, but unfortunately I am not -permitted to do that. Matters of state are involved." - -"Explanations are neither necessary nor desirable," said Olga calmly. -Then she extended her hand lightly. "We may not meet again, Mr Fenton." - -The Canadian touched her hand with his lips, then for a moment held it -close in both of his. "We shall meet again, your highness," he -declared confidently. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -THE ABDUCTION - -The war riots continued in Serajoz with ever-increasing violence. -Following the unsatisfactory events of the morning, Fenton spent -several hours in Varden's automobile on a mission that took him to many -parts of the city. - -Late in the afternoon he returned, to find his host in a state of great -perturbation. - -"Things are certainly happening thick and fast," declared Varden. "The -other side are prepared to stop at nothing, Fenton. The princess has -been carried off!" - -Fenton, too stunned for speech, listened with his mind in a turmoil, -while Varden proceeded with a hurried and disjointed explanation. A -note had just reached him from Anna Petrowa, containing the startling -information that an attempt at abduction would be made. Shortly after -two o'clock, on the instructions issued by her royal father, Olga had -set out for Kail Baleski in a carriage with the customary retinue for -travel. In the meantime the alert Anna had learned of a plan, -formulated in the Miridoff camp, to have the princess abducted on the -road and carried up to the hill country. - -"But," protested Fenton in angry amazement, "what purpose can be -served? It seems just as senseless as it is incredible!" - -"The purpose is not hard to find," replied Varden. "The princess will -serve as a hostage. Efforts will be made to force Prince Peter to -withdraw the pressure he is exerting on the King by threats of violence -to the princess. - -"Miridoff, of course, will not appear in this," went on Varden. "It -will be made to appear on the surface that the abduction has been the -work of brigands. The princess will be carried up into the hill -country and not released until Peter has been brought to terms." - -"But how do you know they have carried her off? It is one thing to -plan a daring coup of this kind, and another to accomplish it." - -"As a matter of fact, Don, I don't suppose that they have actually got -their hands on her yet, but there is no reason to suppose that they -won't do so. Carriage travel is slow in this country, and Olga would -hardly have reached Kail Baleski yet. As that is practically the start -of the hill country they'll make the attempt thereabouts." - -"Then it's not too late," said Fenton with a sense of partial relief. -"I'm going to borrow your machine. There's a chance that I can -overtake her in time." - -In another minute Fenton was settled in the tonneau of the car, which -rolled through the streets of the Ironian capital with a speed that -increased as they neared the open country. - - * * * * * - -Ironia is a country of extremes. Unusual wealth rubs elbows with -abject poverty. Grand palaces line the Lodz in Serajoz, and in the -narrow streets close on either side human beings fight for a meagre -existence. - -The same rule of contrast holds with reference to the Ironian -character. The peasantry are honest, hospitable, devout and ignorant. -The upper classes, the aristocracy, who control the mining and -industrial enterprises from which Ironian wealth emanates, are sharp, -clever and quite unscrupulous. Only in the few old families which had -managed to escape extinction in the Turkish wars does the innate -nobility of the peasant character, purified by education and -refinement, show itself. Peter was typical of the aristocratic -minority; Miridoff of the majority. - -Fenton discovered to what a sharp degree the law of contrast was -carried in this picturesque country when the driver turned out of the -crowded streets of Serajoz and guided his car with a steadily -increasing hum along one of the wonderfully well preserved Roman roads -that run out in all directions from the capital city, like the fingers -of an out-stretched land. Back in Serajoz every evidence was to be -seen of advanced civilisation. In the country they soon passed out of -the area where their car was accepted as a matter of course. Fifteen -miles from the city their progress through the many villages that -dotted the road became marked by confusion and clatter, the peasants -staring in open-mouthed amazement at the spectacle of the fast-moving -car. It was quite apparent that the automobile was still an object of -almost superstitious wonder to these simple souls. - -The excitement which attended their progress became more marked when -the driver turned off the main road and struck through a maze of -winding side-roads that circled along the foot-hills on a gradually -ascending grade. Crouched back in the swaying tonneau, a prey to fear -and worry, Fenton made frequent use of the only Ironian word that he -had learned before starting on this headlong pursuit, "Faster." The -driver, who reverenced the car with the same zeal that a Christian will -sometimes show in the study of an Oriental creed, obeyed with gleeful -alacrity. He had always wanted to know just how fast it could be made -to go, this devil-wagon with its intricate buttons and levers, the -secrets of which he had studied in the same spirit as he would have -approached the formulæ of a sorcerer. Having at last found a passenger -of the same frame of mind as himself, Jaleski leaned over the wheel -with a smile that brought his beaked nose down with a still more -pronouncedly owl-like suggestion, and the wheels fairly lifted off the -ground. The car skimmed along the curving highways; ascended steep -grades with a graceful ease of a powerful bird on the wing; dashed -through villages like a puffing, black Juggernaut; and spread a trail -of chattering, fear-stricken peasantry in its wake. - -To Fenton the ecstatic Jaleski seemed like a genie crouched over the -edge of a magic carpet, guiding it with supernatural speed across an -earthly continent. He expected that every minute would be his last, -though he made no effort to stave off the impending doom. - -But Jaleski proved an artist at the wheel. He brought the imagination -of the East to the manipulation of the levers and bars of the -materialistic West, and seemed to be able to coax extra speed from them -without relaxing his perfect control. He appeared to tell by instinct -just what lay beyond the next bramble-obscured turn in the road. He -had an extra sense for knowing when to turn out for unseen obstacles. -Fenton began to feel that a sorcerer was at the wheel. - -They came in record time to the quaint little village of Kail Baleski, -which shelters itself at the very base of the foot-hills, and has not -changed in any detail for the last two hundred years. They found the -place in a state of wildest turmoil. Crowds of villagers stood in the -one street along which the village straggles with a vague suggestion of -child-built blocks. As Jaleski regretfully brought the car to a stop -they were surrounded by a mob who waved their arms and jabbered -incessantly. Jaleski picked the purport of it from the babel of talk, -and, turning a tragic face on his passenger, endeavoured to relate the -disturbing news. - -After questioning him impatiently in imperfect German, Fenton gave up -the effort to establish intelligent communication, and climbed from the -car. He reproached himself bitterly for having started out on so -important a mission without bringing an interpreter along. - -Finally, however, he perceived a possible means out of his dilemma. -Walking down the street toward them came the village priest, benevolent -and white-haired, in a worn cassock and rusty clerical hat that bespoke -either the poverty of the neighbourhood or the ascetic character of the -wearer. The old priest's face was clouded with the same trouble that -stared so unmistakably and yet so unintelligibly from the brown faces -of the villagers. Fenton addressed him eagerly in French, haltingly in -German and finally in English. And, wonder of wonders, at the last -attempt he found that he had tuned his C.Q.D. message to the lingual -receiver of the old cleric. - -"I speak some Eenglish," said the priest slowly. "Once was I in -London. Your Milton and your Shakespeare, of much have I read." - -"Fine, Father!" said Fenton, shaking the priest's hand warmly, much to -the amazement of the villagers, who had backed away respectfully at the -approach of the shabby old man. "Can you tell me what it's all about? -Has anything happened to her highness?" - -Slowly and haltingly the priest told him of the happenings that had so -upset the usually placid village. Early in the morning a messenger had -come with the news that her highness, the Princess Olga, was to arrive -that day. Prompt preparations had been started at the castle, the -towers of which, standing up above the dark tops of the trees, could be -dimly made out in the distance. An hour before, the royal carriage had -driven into the village with a frightened driver, a partly stunned -serving-man and an hysterical maid-in-waiting--but no princess. The -equippage had been held up by a band of armed men about two miles back -on the road. The Princess Olga had been taken from the carriage, -placed on a horse and carried off with businesslike celerity. After -frightening the servants by a threat to shoot them, the band had -disappeared into the thickly wooded country through which a narrow pack -trail led up into the hills. Such was the information that the padre -retailed with saddened inflection to Fenton. - -The latter, now that his worst fears were confirmed, lost no time in -deciding on his course of action. He would first get whatever -information could be secured from the servants, and then strike north -for Kirkalisse, the northern estates of Miridoff, to which Olga would -probably be taken. He was confident that he could cover the distance -during the night if a capable guide could be secured. In the meantime -he would send a messenger to Varden with the news and urge that -assistance be supplied at once. - -With the priest in tow to act as interpreter, Fenton interviewed the -members of the prince's household who had figured in the hold-up. They -gave voluble descriptions of the incident, but no information that was -of any value to the impatient Canadian. The band had been very -numerous, very fierce and armed like so many living arsenals--the -serving people emphasised these facts with much reiteration--but -nothing more definite in the way of a description could be obtained. -The driver of the carriage, who saw in Fenton one whose version of the -affair might carry weight, poured into the Canadian's ear a verbal -eruption of harsh consonants which the priest interpreted as a recital -of the valiant fight that he (the driver) and the other male member of -the party had put up before they allowed their beautiful mistress to be -carried off. - -"He must be a valiant fighter," declared Fenton, "to maul these -brigands the way he says he did and come off without a scratch himself!" - -They were standing in front of the little village inn, and consequently -their words sounded quite clearly on the street. He heard a sharp -exclamation from a dust-laden stranger who was plodding his way wearily -through the knots of villagers. - -"Great Scott! Is it English I hear?" cried the stranger. - -Coming forward he deposited his bundle on the road and shook Fenton's -hand with every evidence of keen delight. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -INTRODUCING PHIL CRANE - -The new arrival was a man of possibly thirty years, with twinkling blue -eyes and brick-red hair. That his clothes were made of the best -material and were cut by an English tailor were facts not to be -gain-said, even by their tattered and torn and generally dilapidated -condition. One sleeve of his coat was in holes and scorched with -powder. He was hatless, and his hair, long and shaggy, tumbled about -his brow. There was no need to ask his nationality. He was an -Englishman--a travelled Englishman--since the two are very different -beings. - -"My name is Crane--Philip Aloysius Crane," he announced as he -vigorously gripped Fenton's hand. - -"Donald Fenton, at your service," said the Canadian. - -"I am speechless, floored for lack of suitable words to express my -delight at meeting someone from the tight little island," declared -Philip Aloysius Crane. "You see I've been six months without hearing a -word of English spoken except by myself--and in the state of mind I've -been in I've been able to express myself only in terms of profanity. -So you'll understand these--er--ebullitions, my -unwonted--er--exuberance." - -"You've got nothing on me just now," declared Fenton. "I started out -on an important mission without knowing a word of Ironian, except the -equivalent for 'faster'--and with the kind of driver I had that was the -one word I didn't need. I'm just beginning to realise that I'm -practically stranded." - -"Then I'm just the man you're looking for," said Crane. "I talk -Ironian like a native; or no, hardly that. I talk it with my tongue -and not with my shoulders and eyebrows. If I can be of any service to -you as interpreter, command me." - -"I've got to find my way into the hill country," explained Fenton. "If -you could come along with me it would solve the difficulty. But first -I ought to explain to you that it might prove a pretty dangerous -business." - -Crane's weary face lighted up under its coating of dust. - -"Danger! Why, my dear boy, that's what I've lived on for the last six -months," he declared. "Goodness knows, it's about all I've had in way -of sustenance up there in the oil country lately." - -"The oil country?" This questioningly. - -"Yes. You see I'm an engineer and supposed to know something about -oil. If you know anything of this country you are aware that they have -some big oil wells in the north-west section. As a matter of fact -they've got about the finest certified gold mine in those same oil -fields that I've ever seen, especially since the war broke out, and -they've been able to sell petroleum to Austria and Germany at war -prices. - -"Another Englishman and myself signed on here three years ago," he went -on. "All the work is done under the superintendence of imported -engineers, mostly Austrian and German. Redfield and I were the only -Englishmen there, and he left over a year ago--lucky beggar! When the -war broke out things got pretty uncomfortable for me. You see, the -owners didn't want to lose the profits they make on shipping oil across -the border, and for that reason they've been fighting tooth and nail to -keep the country neutral. I came under suspicion naturally and I -suppose I was pretty outspoken. I had a dust-up pretty nearly every -day with some of the others, and finally, when I tried to get out of -the country to go home and enlist, they clapped me into jail. That was -six months ago, and I've been there ever since--a filthy hole with a -wooden bench as a bed and a family of toads as company. Four days ago -I persuaded one of the guards--with the bench--to let me go. I got -away safely enough, but one of the other guards nearly potted me. -Since then I've been beating my way back to civilisation, begging from -the peasants and sleeping under the glorious panoply of heaven. I -haven't a cent in my pockets. I haven't even a hat. Perhaps you will -now appreciate the faint stirring of pleasure that came over me when I -met a man who talked English--and had a motor-car!" - -Fenton decided that he liked this Englishman and that he could safely -trust him. Accordingly he told Crane something of the mission which -was taking him to the hill country. - -"Suits me down to the ground," said Crane, gripping Fenton's hand -again. "I'll go along as interpreter--anything at all so long as I get -my share of the scrapping. I've acquired a grouch against the whole -country that won't work off until I've battered my fists on some honest -Ironian faces. I've stayed here six months at their wish; now I'll -stay a few days longer on my own account and wipe off a few scores. -Besides I came out here with a sneaking hope that I'd meet with -romantic adventures of the Anthony Hope brand--you know, pink the -prince and marry the beautiful lady-in-waiting and all that sort of -thing. So far, the only Ironian women I've met have been honest -peasant bodies who looked on sour milk as a luxury." - -At this point the old priest approached them and intimated that it had -been his intention to ask Mr Fenton to partake of his humble fare, and -perhaps the new-comer, too, would join them. - -They accepted; Crane with a readiness that spoke eloquently of the -length of his fast. Fenton then hastily scribbled a note to Varden and -handed it to Jaleski. - -"Tell him, Crane," he said, "that he's to get back to Serajoz as fast -as he can do it with any degree of safety. Tell him it's a matter of -life and death, but that he isn't to run any risk of killing himself -till after he's delivered that note." - -Crane relayed the message to Jaleski, who acknowledged it with a deep -obeisance and climbed with alacrity into the driver's seat. The car -glided off and, with rapidly increasing speed, vanished into the -distance. The cloud of dust that marked its course showed that Jaleski -had understood fully the first part of the message, if not the last. - -"Lord help anyone or anything that gets on the road between here and -Serajoz this day!" said Fenton. - -They followed the priest to a vine-covered cottage standing beside the -village church. On entering they found themselves in a small room, -scrupulously clean and reflecting an atmosphere almost of culture -despite the cheapness of the sparse furnishings. A table and several -wooden chairs and a small case of unsized boards containing a few -ancient, much-used books were the chief articles that the room -contained. At one end was a stone fireplace, blackened by the smoke of -many score years. On the mantle above was a large crucifix. The table -was set for a frugal supper of dried goat meat, black bread and fruit. -The priest, with an air of earnest courtesy that might have graced the -most sumptuous of banquets, bade his guests be seated. A silent -serving-woman of rare old age but unimpaired activity placed two extra -plates and the necessary knives and forks. Neither Fenton nor Crane -needed any second bidding to fall to, for the former's appetite had -been whetted on the trip from the capital, and the latter had reached -the stage where a piece of dried leather would have seemed a toothsome -morsel. The priest ate sparingly himself and watched the prodigious -efforts of his young guests with a benevolent smile lurking in the fine -wrinkles that time had written around eyes and mouth. - -"Reverend Father, I shall always rank you a good first on my list of -benefactors!" declared Crane with fervour when the last shred of food -had been consumed. "I've sat down to many a fine meal in my time, but -the memory of this will remain with me to my dying day. You've saved -my life." - -"What it is to be young," assented the priest, with a gracious delight -in the exercise of his hospitality. "When youth and the good appetite -together go even the coarse fare of a humble priest can seem good. My -sons, it pleases me much your company to have." - -"The pleasure is more than mutual," said Crane. "I assure you, Father, -that I shall tear myself away with great reluctance. I shudder at the -thought of our trip back into that hill country again. It is rough up -there." - -"I have a friend in the hill country," said the priest. "A letter you -shall take to him and the best he has shall be yours." - -Fenton, who had regretted every moment spent in the satisfying of even -so clamorous a possession as his appetite, now made a motion to get up. - -"Father, you know the urgency of our mission, and will not think ill of -us if we lose no time in setting out," he declared. "The life of the -Princess Olga may depend upon our promptness." - -The old priest restrained him with upraised hand, speaking in a low and -cautious tone. - -"A word in your ear, my son," he said. "It would be well to depart -when no one sees. It shall be given out that you stay as my guests -to-night. After night falls you leave with a guide that I find." - -"You mean that we might be spied upon?" asked Fenton. - -The priest hesitated. - -"Differences of opinion are found even in such small hamlets as ours," -he said, with a trace of sadness. "Those are here--those who might -carry word ahead of your coming." - -"You know best, I guess," said Fenton, endeavouring to accept the -priest's dictum with as little impatience as possible. "But how can I -stay here when I know she is in danger--that every minute counts?" - -"It's common sense, though, Fenton," broke in Crane. "I've lived in -the country long enough to know that you've got to keep your business -strictly to yourself. In a matter of this kind you can't be too -cautious. If you want to be of real assistance in this matter you'll -have to keep cool for a few hours." - -Fenton, who had risen during the discussion, sat down again. The -kindly priest laid a wrinkled hand on his arm with a gesture that was -almost a benediction. - -"Listen, my son," he said. "By this time she whose safety we all wish -above everything else in the world far away has been carried. A man of -God who has brought the message to our people for fifty years, has -baptised the children, married the young people and shriven the dying, -knows much that goes on of which he cannot speak. A guide I know who -will take you where the Princess Olga is, and also he will lead you to -where is found Take Larescu." - -"Larescu!" cried Crane in so loud a tone that the priest glanced -anxiously around and laid a warning finger on his lips. "You mean the -famous leader of the brigands, the king of the hills, the man who -defies any authority but his own, but who volunteered under another -name and fought in the Ironian army as a private all through the -Turkish War?" - -The priest answered him in guarded tones, but with an inflection of -pride that no need for caution could subdue. - -"Take Larescu is great patriot, great warrior, great friend of my -people, the poor peasants," he said. "Larescu has fought the rich -nobles, he has robbed and, God forgive him, has killed. He has sinned -much, but his good deeds are as the trees in the great forest. When -the war for the lost land comes Larescu will be at the front of battle. -He is wise, he knows much of the great world. He can save our -princess, young sir. To Larescu must you go first." - -"The people who live in the mountains are almost a different race from -the rest of the people of Ironia," explained Crane to Fenton. "They're -a wild lot, with a gipsy strain in them. The government of Ironia has -completely failed to impose any legal restraints on them. They have -their own customs, their own laws, and a chief who rules them as -absolutely as any king that ever lived. But if war breaks out they'll -go and fight for Ironia to a man. And, Lord, how they can fight! -Their chief, Take Larescu, is a giant who can take on any three -ordinary men. I've heard stories of the wonderful things he has done -that you wouldn't believe, but which I know are more than half true. -Larescu is a combination of Theseus and Robin Hood, with a dash of -D'Artagnan thrown in. If our host can enlist his sympathies the rescue -of the lost princess will develop into a pleasant little picnic party." - -The three men sat around the table and conversed in low tones as the -shades of evening settled down, the priest chaining the interest of his -guests with tales of Ironia's turbulent history, stories of Turkish -oppression, of wars fought for liberty, of feudal strife and -internecine struggle. In broken phrases that somehow embraced a -graphic power of vivid portrayal, he told the life story of a -down-trodden people only now groping on the threshold of nationhood. - -"Drive the nobility and the oilcrats out of Ironia and you'd have the -makings of a great nation," said Crane, taking up the thread of -narrative where the priest left it. He proceeded to give a more -detailed account of his own experiences, telling of the vast extent of -the oil-fields and the huge profits that the owners were making. An -Ironian workman received a few pence a day, doing the work for which a -man elsewhere would receive as many dollars. The discipline was -severe, almost as rigid, in fact, as in a penal institution. The law -stopped practically at the boundary of the oil country; within that -limit the word of the owners was law. - -The priest listened silently, bowing his head in sad assent to many of -the statements that the young Englishman made. Fenton also was silent, -hearing but little of the conversation. He sat back in his chair and -gloomily conjured up pictures of Olga in the power of the arch-villain, -Miridoff. And Wellington, on the crucial field of Waterloo, did not -long for night with greater intensity than did Fenton for the descent -of the sheltering darkness which would enable him to start out on his -quest. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -IN THE HILL COUNTRY - -It was after ten when they quietly emerged from the house of the old -priest. The sky was overcast so that not a star showed. A peasant -silently emerged from the shadows at the side of the road and placed -himself before them, hat in hand. - -"Sashu will take you to Larescu," said the priest. "You can depend -upon him. He is a peasant from the estate of his highness, the Prince -Peter, and would give his life willingly for any member of the family." - -"Father, you have indeed been a friend in need to us. I wish I could -repay a small share of what we owe you," said Fenton, his hand straying -toward his pocket. - -Crane noticed the movement and nudged him under cover of the darkness. -"Not that," he whispered. "They are very proud, these Ironians, and -very glad at all times to offer hospitality. You would mortally insult -him." - -"Perhaps," said Fenton hastily, "there is something we could procure -for the church--a new altar cloth, say. I would like to do something -for your people in that way, Father. Suppose I leave the matter in -your hands. If this is not sufficient we could fix it up on our return -trip." - -The old priest accepted the money that Fenton proffered with an -eagerness that showed how deeply he had been touched. He thanked them -earnestly, explaining that there were many things he could purchase -with the donation. They struck off into the darkness with his parting -benediction following them. - -For a long time they tramped on in silence. Sashu, their guide, led -the way along rough country side-roads, Fenton and Crane following side -by side. After covering about half a mile in this way the villager -turned abruptly to the left and led them up a winding path directly -into the heavily wooded approach to the hills. The walking now became -very difficult as the grade was a steep one and the ground rough. The -two men began a conversation, but lack of breath rendered it spasmodic. -Finally they reached a wider and fairly even road on which the ascent -was more gradual. - -"By the beetling eyebrows of Beelzebub!" gasped Crane. "Another -hundred yards and I'd have been knocked out. The food you get in an -Ironian jail doesn't fit you for mountain-climbing." - -"I wouldn't mind the grade so much if the moon would only show itself," -said Fenton, whose determination to get on to their journey's end had -carried him through the ascent with less difficulty. "If we could only -see where we were going we could make something like decent time over -these hills. Our guide doesn't seem to be having any difficulty." - -"An Ironian peasant can see in the dark," asserted Crane. "They're a -queer lot--a good deal like animals in some ways. They don't look much -farther into the future than the next square meal. When his stomach's -full your peasant has just one ambition--to curl up in the sun and go -to sleep. Beat him and he'll do your bidding like a sullen donkey, and -the first time you come within kicking distance he puts his heels into -you, figuratively speaking. Treat him well and he'll die for you like -a faithful dog." - -"Perhaps you could get something out of this picturesque fellow ahead -of us," suggested Fenton. "Find out from him where we're going and -when we can expect to get there." - -"I don't think it would be much use," said Crane doubtfully. "The -Sphinx is a positive chatterbox compared with one of these peasants. -You have to treat them like electors; prime them with a gallon or two -of extra strong liquor before you can pump anything out of them. I -don't suppose you have anything of the kind handy?" - -"No," replied Fenton. "That was another thing I forgot to equip myself -with before starting out. It has just occurred to me too that I -neglected to bring along a revolver. We're not very well equipped for -an expedition of this kind." - -Crane stopped short, and indulged in a hearty, unrestrained laugh. - -"Fenton," he said, as soon as he recovered, "I'll wager you've kept -your guardian angel working night shifts ever since you were born. By -the twisted horn of the off ox of Ind! You start up into a mountainous -country teeming with blood-thirsty brigands in pursuit of a band of -villains who've carried off a princess--and with no other weapons than -those with which nature was good enough to provide you. You accept the -services of the first guide offered and, if his villainous visage is -any indication of what we can expect from him, he'll cut our throats -the first chance he gets." - -"You don't need to come any farther," said Fenton, with some heat. "I -warned you in the first place that it might be a dangerous mission." - -"Don't misunderstand me," pleaded Crane. "This is only my way of -expressing admiration. It's not so much that I admire courage as that -I bow humbly before originality whenever I meet it. And lord, man, you -are certainly original! I'll wager no one has ever tackled a job like -this one before. But don't think I'm not as keen for the trip as ever. -The longer the odds the better I like it. Only--I think it would be -advisable under all the circumstances if I got as much information as I -could out of the pleasant-looking cut-throat ahead." - -He called to their guide in Ironian, and Sashu's deep voice answered -from the darkness ahead of them. Crane quickened his pace until he had -drawn even with the villager and for a space of ten minutes they -talked. Sashu answered Crane's questions volubly. The latter then -dropped back again. - -"Friend Sashu is the exception that proves the rule of Ironian -taciturnity," he stated. "He avers that we'll reach the place we're -making for some time between now and morning." - -"And where is he taking us?" asked Fenton. - -"Well, he seemed rather vague on that point," acknowledged Crane, "or -perhaps cross-examination isn't my long suit. I didn't get a great -deal of information out of him on that point. In fact, not any. These -natives are as close as oysters about the haunts and movements of Take -Larescu." - -"Then we are really being taken to the headquarters of this brigand -chief?" - -"We're headed that way," said Crane, "and likely to arrive provided we -don't slip off a precipice on the way or meet any wandering parties of -brigands. These hill billies have the pleasant habit of potting at you -first and inquiring about you afterward." - -"To think of the princess being in the power of these people!" groaned -Fenton. "Say, Crane, can't we travel faster than this? Tell the guide -we can't dawdle along this way any longer." - -"It wouldn't be safe to go any faster, not in this darkness," protested -the engineer. "Do you realise that the path we are on now is just four -feet wide and that one false step would take us back to where we -started from in about three seconds?" - -Nevertheless, they responded to Fenton's impatience by quickening their -pace and, in silence again, climbed higher and farther into the rough -hill country. Sometimes they had a clear, even path, but more often -Sashu led them along narrow ledges where the footing even in the -daylight would have been precarious, so that they had to grasp hands -and feel cautiously ahead before making a step. Sometimes they left -the trail entirely and clambered up over the rocks, guided by husky -directions from Sashu and sometimes assisted bodily by the guide. It -was gruelling work, and in a short time the two westerners were muscle -weary and puffing for breath. Fenton urged himself along after the -last ounce of physical initiative had left him by conjuring up lurid -pictures of the Princess Olga in the power of the unscrupulous -Miridoff. Even when so weak that he had to clutch several times at a -rock before gaining a hold, Fenton was able to spur himself on to -increased speed by the thoughts of the possible dire consequences of -delay. - -They had finished a particularly difficult climb over a rocky -promontory that projected across the path. Sashu cautiously swung -himself down until his feet touched the narrow ledge of the path on the -other side. Fenton followed suit, releasing one hand from its -tenacious grasp of the rock while he slowly let his weight down. -Unable to bear the full strain, the other hand lost its grip and, with -a gasp of horror, Fenton felt himself slipping. He lunged frantically -for a saving hold with the free hand, but the effort came too late. He -continued to slip and came down so rapidly that, when one foot struck -on the edge of the narrow ledge, his weight and the momentum of his -fall threw him outward. - -At such moments the mind acts with lightning rapidity. In the brief -second that precedes a plunge to death, the events of a lifetime can -flash in fleeting panorama through the human consciousness. Fenton -thought of Olga, of the helpless position in which his death would -leave her, of Varden, of Ironia and the war--and again of Olga. And -then his downward, headlong fall was arrested, brought to a stop with a -jarring, crushing violence! He felt a sharp pain in his head, and then -darkness closed in. - -When Fenton regained consciousness he found himself stretched full -length on a ledge of rough rock. His left arm was hanging partly over -the ledge. Soon he became aware of numbness and a racking pain in his -head. The darkness of night had given way to the dull grey of early -dawn, by which token Fenton knew that some hours had elapsed since his -fall. - -He groaned and shifted himself slightly with a painful effort. For a -few moments he remained perfectly still, collecting his strength, and -then raised his voice in a call for help. Immediately he heard an -exclamation from above and a dark object showed against the grey of the -wall of rock that shut off all view of the sky on one side of him. -Fenton focused his wandering glance on this object and it finally -resolved itself into a head peering over the ledge of the path higher -up. - -"Fenton! Where are you?" the voice of Crane floated down to him. - -"Here," he called back. The hammering pain in his head made his voice -seem small and far away. - -It was several moments before the voice of Crane again reached his -ears. "I see you now," he cried. "Thank heaven you're safe, old man! -I've been sitting up here for a century waiting for dawn so that I -could get down below and hunt for your body. Sashu left ages ago for -help and ought to be back any time now. Are you badly hurt?" - -"I think my head's broken," replied Fenton faintly, "and I suspect -other injuries." - -His voice apparently did not carry to the ledge above, for Crane went -right on: "Cheer up, Fenton! I'll have you up out of there in no time. -I believe I can see a path leading down there some distance ahead! -Just keep easy in your mind and I'll soon be with you." - -There was a long silence after that. Several times Fenton called but -got no answer. The pain in his head became wellnigh unbearable. When -he had just about convinced himself that the presence of Crane on the -ledge above had been purely a figment of his fevered imagination, he -heard a voice from behind. - -"Here I come, Fenton. I don't believe anything but a bird ever -negotiated this path before, but, by the tail of the sacred cow, such -trifles as narrow ledges and the laws of gravitation can't thwart -Philip Aloysius Crane! And what's more, we're both going back the way -I came." - -There was a short interval during which Fenton heard laboured breathing -and the sharp impact of Crane's heavy shoes on the rocks, gradually -drawing nearer, and then he felt a hand on his forehead. - -"How are you, anyway?" asked Crane. "Don't think I was ever so -thankful in all my life as when I heard your voice. I had given you -up, of course. I sat up there on the rocks for three solid hours -waiting for daylight so that I could do something, and I hope I never -put in such a night again. Can you sit up?" he went on, quite -cheerfully now. - -Fenton exerted himself and, with the help of a powerful tug from his -companion, struggled into a sitting position. He felt very weak and -dizzy still, but his ability to move convinced him that he had -sustained no serious injuries. - -"Fine!" exclaimed Crane with enthusiasm. "You're a long way from dead -yet. Here, I want your belt." - -He took the belts from around his own and Fenton's waist and -dexterously knotted them together. Then, slipping one arm under -Fenton's shoulders, he helped him to his feet. Turning quickly he drew -the latter's right arm around his neck and strapped him to his back -with the belts. - -"I'm too heavy a load for you," protested Fenton. "Strapped up this -way I'll be able to walk all right. Let's try it anyway." - -Crane straightened up until Fenton's feet touched the rock again. The -latter's strength was slowly coming back, and after a moment's -hesitation he stepped out. Thus slowly and uncertainly, with locked -step, Fenton buoyed up by the pressure of the strap, they negotiated -the steep pathway. Every few yards they paused to allow Fenton to -regain his strength, and as the grade increased, these stops became -more frequent and of longer duration. The path was a narrow and -winding one that would have tried the skill and daring of an Alpine -guide. It was plentifully interspersed with sharp corners, around -which they edged with the utmost care, and rocks over which they -laboriously climbed. A terrific strain was imposed on Crane, for there -were times when he had to practically carry his companion, and the -brunt of working their way over the obstructions and around sharp -corners fell entirely on his shoulders. All that Fenton was capable of -was an automatic power of motion. Several times they were on the verge -of collapse into the yawning chasm, but on each occasion the coolness -and intrepidity of Crane saved them. And in time they won their way to -the top, though the feat had seemed practically impossible at the -outset. - -"Didn't think we could do it!" gasped Crane, as he dragged his -companion over the edge of the road to safety. He fumbled with almost -nerveless fingers at the belts, and when the knot was unloosed, two -inert masses of flesh and bone sank limply on the rough surface of the -rock. The path at this point was fairly wide, so that they could -recline upon it with perfect safety. For a long time they lay there -without a move, too exhausted even to speak. Finally Fenton turned a -little toward his companion and stretched out his arm. - -"You're a wonder, Phil," he said. - -Crane sat up and gripped Fenton's hand. "A mere trifle, Don," he said. -Then he gave vent to to a glad halloa. "Here comes Sashu and a whole -male chorus of brigands! I was beginning to think it was time he got -back." - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -TAKE LARESCU - -The hill people of Ironia were counted as giants, and their leader, -Take Larescu, was a giant among them. He stood four inches over six -foot, with the proportions generally of a grizzly bear. His head, -carried at a dignified elevation, was covered with a red cap, closely -approximating the Turkish fez in shape, and allowing a mop of curly -black hair to protrude all around. If in his physical make-up he -resembled the bear, his face showed a close approach to the fierce and -noble lines of the eagle. With bold, commanding eye, heavy, hooked -nose, and long black moustache, he gave more than a suggestion of -imperturbable dignity and high-reaching ambition, while the general -expression of his face showed determination, ruthless strength and -cruelty. He was dressed in the usual costume of the Ironian, with -broad white trousers and many-coloured blouse, and carried a brace of -pistols in his belt. An incongruous touch was lent by an ornate scarab -watch fob which dangled from his belt between the ivory-mounted -pistols. If one cared to inspect this mountainous figure of a man in -detail, further incongruities were brought to light in the heavy -European boots and the knitted under-garment which showed beneath his -voluminous sleeves. - -Take Larescu stood on the side of a precipitous hill and watched a file -of men slowly winding their way up toward him. His keen eye had -already noted that the approaching party included two strangers, who -from their clothing were apparently foreigners. The leader of the hill -tribes did not waste much time in fruitless speculation as to the -probable identity of the two new-comers, but, feeling in the loose -folds of his scarlet sash, produced a decidedly modern-looking pair of -field-glasses. Focussing them on the distant figures of the men -toiling up the hill, he studied them intently for a few minutes. "Both -Americans," was his mentally registered verdict as he closed the -glasses and carefully replaced them in the ample store-room of his -belt. Then from the belt he produced a cigarette and match, and later -still an amber mouthpiece. The capacity of Larescu's sash was a -constant source of wonder to those who came in contact with him. One -could not help speculating as to what he would produce next. - -The path up which the approaching party laboriously climbed brought -them to the crest of the opposing slope, which was connected with the -steep eminence on which he stood by a causeway formed by the fallen -trunk of a huge tree. Hidden in the dense wood behind him, a handful -of men could have held this position against an army. Moving with the -apparent leisure of extreme ponderosity, Larescu took up his position -at the end of the causeway, a formidable Horatius capable of holding -the bridge against any odds. His new position was not taken for -purposes of defence, however. In a booming voice he called out a gruff -but hearty greeting. - -Larescu studied the two strangers closely as they stepped cautiously -across the fallen tree trunk. One was a tall, broad-shouldered young -man, with an unhatted shock of fair hair. A blood-stained rag bound -around his head indicated that this member of the party had met with an -accident. The other stranger was shorter and broader, with a free and -careless air, a much-freckled face and hair of flaming red. They in -turn studied Take Larescu with an even greater degree of interest. - -"Observe the comic opera Hercules," whispered Crane to Fenton. - -"Good morning, gentlemen," said Larescu, speaking in English. "I am -indeed delighted to have you as my guests. You, sir, I regret to note, -have had an accident." - -The two travellers stared. - -If the Statue of Liberty ever took upon itself to voice a message of -welcome to incoming ships, the passengers would not feel a more -complete degree of amazement than that which Fenton and Crane -experienced on hearing this cordial message, phrased in the most -perfect English, fall from the lips of this fierce and uncouthly -apparelled brigand. - -"Good morning," replied Fenton, recovering himself with an effort. -"Yes, I had the misfortune to make a false step at a critical part of -the trail. If it hadn't been for my friend here, I would be still -lying where I fell. Am I addressing Take Larescu?" - -"You are, sir," replied the Ironian, inclining his huge bulk in a -courteous bow. "You are standing at the present moment where foot of -any but Ironian has never before rested. That your mission is an -important one I am assured, else my people would not have seen fit to -escort you here. You are doubly welcome, sirs, if you bring news." - -"Shades of Chesterfield!" said Crane to himself. "This isn't real -life. If the orchestra doesn't tune up for a solo by the bass lead in -a second or so, I'll know that I'm dreaming!" - -Fenton in the meantime was fumbling in his coat pockets for a letter -that the worthy priest had given him for the ruler of the hill country. -He handed it over to Larescu, who immediately broke the seal and read -the contents. At the conclusion he addressed them with even more -cordiality than before. - -"Mr Fenton, I am glad to know you, and you too, Mr Crane. You are just -in time for breakfast. But before we sit down I shall look to your -injuries, Mr Fenton." - -He led the way back through the trees for some distance until they came -to a low-lying, roughly finished house, with nothing on the outside to -distinguish it from the typical Ironian abode excepting its size. -Inside, however, they found cause for fresh astonishment. The room in -which they found themselves might well have belonged to an Englishman -of wealth and refinement. The walls were lined with well-filled -bookcases and excellent engravings. There were plenty of comfortable -leather chairs, and a thick rug covered the floor. Fenton and Crane -looked the surprise they felt. - -"You did not think to find anything of this kind up here in the hills?" -chuckled the giant. "Yet if an abode of super-luxury could be -concealed in the grottoes of Monte Carlo, why should you be surprised -at finding such simple possessions as these in the mountains of Ironia? -But I must not waste words while you, sir, are in such need of -attention." - -In another minute glasses of strong spirits had been placed before his -two guests. Fenton felt a grateful warmth steal over him as he drained -his glass. With almost professional deftness, Larescu examined the -injuries that Fenton had sustained in his fall and adjusted fresh -bandages. - -"I know a little of medicine and surgery," he said, "and look after the -health of my people. But now for breakfast, gentlemen." - -They sat down to a meal of remarkable substantiality, backed up by -excellent coffee. Fenton ate as well as his physical condition -permitted. Crane, as he put it, made up for lost time; but together -they could not equal the gastronomic feats of their host. The giant -finished dish after dish with the appetite of a grizzly emerging from -his long winter sleep. His table manners were as finicky and perfect -as his capacity was immeasurable. - -During the meal, which threatened to extend well on into the forenoon, -Larescu talked on a wide range of subjects, giving an insight into the -unique life that he led. He had travelled considerably. Each year he -quietly vanished from his hill haunts and spent two months or more in -the larger cities of Western Europe. He spoke French and German as -well as English. He had studied medicine in London and Vienna, -electricity in Berlin, and the art of living well in Paris. He was an -omnivorous reader, and had magazines and papers brought to him at all -times of the year. He knew something of music, much of philosophy and -art, and all that there was to know on the subject of the government of -primitive people. The wonder of his guests grew with each minute. - -"I am telling you things about myself of which no one in Ironia, with -the exception of my personal followers, has any idea," he confided to -them. "In Serajoz they know me only as the leader of the hill -people--and a rather good fighting man. You are the first guests from -the outside world to sit at my table, and I have told you all this, -serene in the knowledge that not a word shall go outside this room." - -They hastened to assure him that his confidence would be respected -completely. Larescu then went on to tell them of his work with the -hill tribes; how he made and administered their laws, adjusted all -differences that arose between individuals and even on occasions -officiated at the marriage rites over the tongs, for the hill people, -although intensely religious in many ways, still clung to customs that -marked their blood relationship to the gipsy. - -Finally, having completed his breakfast, Larescu shoved back his chair. -His manner changed at once. "Now for business," he said briskly, even -sharply. "My reverend friend, for whose opinion I have most high -regard, has commended you to me. In what way can I be of service to -you?" - -Fenton hesitated a moment before replying. Divining quickly and -accurately the reason for his guest's hesitancy, Larescu rose and, -walking over to his secretary, fumbled through the contents of one of -the pigeon-holes until he found a certain letter. This he placed in -Fenton's hands. - -"I judged from the padre's letter that your errand was in a certain -sense a political one," he said. "Read this letter. It is from Prince -Peter and will allay any uncertainties which you may have entertained -with reference to my sympathies and trustworthiness." - -A hasty glance through the letter convinced Fenton that not only did -Larescu stand high in the regard of Prince Peter, but that he had -pledged himself to the cause that Peter was championing. - -"You must pardon me," he said to their host, "but the fact that I have -been in this country a few days only is perhaps sufficient excuse for -caution. I had only the assurance of the priest of Kail Baleski as to -where you stood." - -He then told Larescu of what he had heard in the gardens of the royal -palace on the night of the ball, of the attempts on his own life and -later on that of Prince Peter, of the carrying off of the Princess -Olga, and finally of his own headlong pursuit. Crane, who had -previously known little of the object of their journey, other than the -mere fact that the princess had been abducted, hearkened to the recital -with keenest interest and every evidence of excitement. The effect on -Take Larescu was even more marked. He listened with a scowl that -darkened as fresh evidence of the perfidy of Miridoff was brought -forward. At the conclusion he thumped the table with his huge fist and -swore with mighty Ironian oaths that he would not leave a stone -standing at Kirkalisse. - -"The Duke Miridoff is a double-eyed traitor!" he declared. "For German -gold he would barter his country's opportunity to regain her lost -provinces. I have a long score to settle with Miridoff. He has shown -bitter animosity to the people of the hills. Three of my men were -hanged at Serajoz ten months ago for a raid that his exactions had -provoked. But now the day of reckoning has come! How is it your -proverb goes?--This is the last straw that causes the worm to turn!" - -The lust of conflict and the primitive craving for revenge showed in -every line of the gigantic chief. The veneer of civilisation sloughed -off. His eyes flashed, his nostrils dilated, and as he stood up his -mighty arms swung menacingly like heavy flails. - -"By to-night I can have three thousand of my men before the gates of -Kirkalisse!" he declared. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -THE TRUMP CARD - -The sun crept behind a distant mountain peak. In this country of -little twilight the transition from day into night was speedy, and -almost as Olga watched from her window the last rays seemed to vanish; -symbol to her of the vanishing of hope and the encroachment of she knew -not what. - -She reflected, as she sat there by the window, on the events of the -night before. Following her capture by a band of brigands, she had -been convoyed through the hill country by a trail almost as difficult -as that which Fenton and Crane had followed. They had arrived in the -dense darkness of night at an old building perched on the crest of one -of the highest peaks--apparently a disused hunting lodge. The fears of -the princess, which had increased with each hour spent on the trail, -were somewhat allayed when she found there were a couple of maids in -the lodge. But while that was comforting in one respect, the fact that -they evidently knew and respected her rank proved to her that it was no -band of mountain marauders who had carried her off. The girls were not -gipsies. Her first thought that she would be held for a ransom was -replaced by a feeling of vague uncertainty. - -The lodge had not been used for some time, although several of the -rooms had been hastily furnished; furnished too with a certain degree -of elegance. This was an added circumstance which provided the -princess with scope for uneasy speculation as to her present position -and the likely developments of the future. In a vague way she began to -realise the motive behind her abduction. - -Any doubts that may have lingered had vanished at noon that day with -the arrival of a young woman who rode up a wide path around the -mountain side from the opposite direction to that along which the -princess had been brought. The new-comer was received with every -evidence of respect by the two dusky brigands who guarded the lodge. -Watching from the window of a room on the ground floor, which had been -appropriated to her as a bedroom, Olga had felt a sudden stirring of -resentment when she recognised in the fair stranger the woman to whom -Fenton had been so attentive--the woman, moreover, who had involved him -in a restaurant brawl and for whose sake he had been prepared to fight -a duel. If Olga were still ignorant of the real nature and the depth -of her interest in the Canadian, she must surely have been astonished -at the jealous promptings which took possession of her as she -surreptitiously regarded the dancer through the broken shutter which -rattled in the wind outside her window. The new-comer undeniably was -attractive. - -The interview which followed between them had left the princess in a -state of mental puzzlement and doubt. Mademoiselle Petrowa had told -her a most surprising story, speaking in French for the benefit of -possible eavesdroppers; a story of plots and counter-plots in which the -narrator herself appeared in a double role, ostensibly an agent of -Miridoff, actually a member of the Russian Secret Service. The story -seemed highly improbable, and yet there was much to substantiate -it--the presence of the dancer in Varden's library and her claim to -having been on hand when the attempt was made to assassinate Prince -Peter. And in addition there had been something about the little -dancer, an air of sincerity, that had done much to impress the princess -with the truth of her story. - - * * * * * - -As Olga sat in the gathering gloom her thoughts were occupied largely -by this surprising development. If the other woman's story were true, -then her relations with Fenton might easily be understood. The -princess was anxious to believe it, but doubts persisted, doubts which -originated in jealous consciousness of the undoubted charms of the -dancer. By this time Olga frankly admitted to herself that she had -been, and still was, jealous. Her jealousy was a revelation to her. - -The door opened and with firm, heavy step a man entered the room. Olga -turned and saw that her visitor was Miridoff himself. His presence -explained much that she had hitherto been unable to fathom. - -There was an unmistakable change in the demeanour of the Grand Duke. -He carried himself with the conscious air of a conqueror. He emanated -triumph. He came, quite apparently, to dictate terms; but it was in -tones of courtesy that he first addressed her. - -"Your highness," he said, bringing his heels together with a stiff -military bow, "I trust that I do not intrude. There is a matter which -I must discuss with you immediately, however, and I must beg your -attention for a few minutes." - -Beneath the man's outward show of courtesy and his arrogant air, there -was something sinister and threatening. Miridoff believed in pushing -any advantage mercilessly. Against an unarmed adversary he would not -hesitate to use his sword. Success bred in him no magnanimity for his -opponent, but rather increased his presumption. Olga dimly realised -something of the mental attitude of her adversary, and for the first -time the real danger of her position appealed to her certainly and -clearly. She faced him, however, with no evidence of fear. - -"Am I indebted to your grace for the way in which I have been treated, -for my detention as a prisoner in this house?" she demanded. - -"No," answered Miridoff. "The motive for this was purely political. -There is no reason why I should not explain it to you, though I did not -come to discuss the ethics of your position here. By the time you are -free to return to Serajoz certain events will have happened which will -make it necessary for you to subscribe to the explanation of your -disappearance now generally accepted--that you were carried off by a -wandering tribe of mountain gipsies. No harm can come, therefore, of -perfect candour at the present moment." - -With an air of complete assurance, Miridoff drew a chair up close and -sat down. - -"I can see that your abduction was a mistake," he went on. "At least, -it has been found unnecessary from a purely political standpoint. The -advantage we thought to gain by getting you into our power was, of -course, to hold you as a hostage against the continued activity of your -august father. Two days ago, when all Serajoz was clamouring for war -on Austria, our only hope seemed to be to force the prince to abandon -the allied cause. Since then, however, the militant wing of our party -has prevailed, and a plan has been put into operation that cannot -fail"--he paused and regarded her with an air of intense -satisfaction--"to bring Ironia into the war against Russia by this time -to-morrow! The active opposition of your royal father is no longer to -be feared. I have a reason for explaining this which you will perhaps -divine later." - -"Then you have come to tell me that I am free?" - -"Not at all," replied Miridoff, his complacency quite unruffled by the -obvious scorn in her tone. "It is no longer necessary to detain you -for political reasons--the comings and goings of a hundred princesses -could now have no effect on the course of events. But there is still a -personal matter to be settled between us!" - -He leaned forward in his chair and regarded her with an insolently -possessive smile. As his gaze rested on her slender girlish figure and -appraised the rich beauty of her face, complacency gradually gave way -to passion and determination. - -"You refused to marry me," he said abruptly, sharply. "I have come to -give you certain reasons for changing your mind." - -The princess replied with quiet contempt and a determination equal to -his own. - -"I refuse to discuss the subject with you. My decision was final. You -may keep me here for ever. You may kill me. You cannot force me to -marry you!" - -Miridoff stood up and regarded her sombrely. - -"Since our first talk on this subject I have not flattered myself that -I could win you in any other way than by force," he said. -"Consequently, force it must be. This is what I have decided." - -Me took a stride up and down the room before halting again in front of -her. His tone, when he began to speak, was much the same as he would -have employed in outlining a military manoeuvre. He could see but one -side of the situation--his own determination to conquer the girl and -the plan he had formed to accomplish that purpose. That she would -suffer in the carrying out of that plan had not been taken into -consideration. If this side of it had occurred to him, he would have -dismissed it as an inevitable factor in any conflict of wills, and a -quite negligible factor. - -"Last evening his highness Prince Peter found it necessary to take the -train for a point near the Mulkovinian border. We know the mission on -which he was bound, and we are also well informed with reference to his -future movements. This morning he left Bradosk on horseback and rode -over to Ronda. He left Ronda three hours ago and expects to visit two -other points during the night. - -"As I said before, the influence and the activities of Prince Peter are -now of no real consequence. In the face of the magnificent train of -events which come to a culminating point to-night, your royal father is -impotent, his efforts futile. But still, we do not believe in taking -any risks. Sometimes the impossible happens. The success of our -campaign will be just so much more certain if Peter is put out of the -way. - -"The road that he travels to-night runs through thick woods. At a spot -well suited to the purpose will be stationed a member of the Society of -Crossed Swords, one who has the reputation of being the best marksman -in the north provinces. His highness is now beyond reach of any -message. Even if his own party at Serajoz knew of his danger, they -could not get a message of warning to him; for at Ronda he altered his -previous plans and struck out in a new direction. There are no -telegraph wires in the section where Prince Peter rides to-night." - -He paused in front of her. - -"The inference," and his voice was cunningly modulated to deepen the -effect of his words, "is that your august father will not reach -Serajoz." - -Olga listened to the recital of this monstrous plan in silence, her -mind literally numbed by its unexpectedness and brutality. The one -terrible fact obsessed her mind: her father rode that night to his -death and no power on earth could save him. She was powerless to -exercise her quick woman's wit. She did not attempt to reason. It did -not even occur to her to question the truth of what he had told her. -The diabolical nature of the plot caused her all the more readily to -accept as true his matter-of-fact explanation of it. - -Miridoff had paused, but, as the girl did not speak, he went on in the -same deliberate, even tone: - -"The plan was not of my making. In fact in view of the relations -between us, I was opposed to it--at first. I gave my consent knowing -that I still had the power to stop the carrying out of that plan. The -man selected for the work has gone. It was a wise selection; he is the -most determined man we have. There is only one thing that will prevent -him from carrying out the mission on which he has been sent. If this -ring," he drew a gold band from his finger and held it up before her, -"were carried to him, he would put his pistols back in his belt and -return forthwith to Kirkalisse. A messenger who knows the mountain -roads could leave here within the next three hours and arrive in time -to save your father's life." - -All the time he had been talking, Olga had sat with head bowed in -statue-like rigidity. At last she lifted her head wearily, as if the -physical movement were an effort. There was no longer defiance or -determination in her glance. A dull fear was there and unwilling -acquiescence. She had no other choice. - -"What is your price?" she asked. - -Miridoff slipped the ring back on his finger. "It will be sent when -you are my wife," he said. - -There was another pause. When Olga spoke again her voice was quiet, -but had an oddly strained tone. "Tell me all," she said. "You have a -plan----" - -"Yes, I have arranged everything," replied Miridoff. "I have kept -before me this consideration, that no hint of what occurs this night -must ever be known to others. When the Grand Duke Miridoff weds the -Princess Olga it must be in the cathedral at Serajoz with the full -sanction and in the presence of His Majesty the King. But in the -meantime, if the life of your highness's father is to be saved, the -link must be forged that will bind you to me. To-night a band of -wandering gipsies are camped in the Hawk's Rest, a short distance from -here. I have arranged with the chief of the gipsies that to-night he -will marry over the tongs a man and woman who will come to him. The -contracting parties will be masked, so that not even the chief himself -will know who it is he has joined together. When the ceremony has been -performed, this ring is to be handed to him to be carried by one of the -young men of the tribe to a certain rendezvous where waits the best -marksman in the north country. - -"I have arranged it in this way," went on Miridoff, "to convince you of -the sincerity of my intentions. See, I give the ring to you as an -earnest of my good faith. After the ceremony you shall hand it -yourself to the gipsy chief, and see it passed to the messenger." - -He looked at her steadily a moment, then went on: "There is one thing -else. Let me warn you. The gipsy chief is the only one who shares -with me the knowledge of where the messenger must go, and he is too -completely in my power to divulge the secret--to be amenable to -pressure from any source. So you see it is only by obeying me in every -particular that you can save your father's life." - -Olga had subsided on the couch, her head resting on her arms. Deep -fear and a sense of the hopelessness of further struggle against this -clever spider who had caught her in his web took possession of her. -She knew there was no way out. - -"The plan I propose is too irregular to please me," pursued Miridoff, -"but it is the only possible solution. In three hours I must start out -on a work of great importance. There is not a priest who could be -brought here within the time, and in any case this is the only way that -can bind you to me without advertising the method of our union to a -gossiping world. Marry me to-night and to-morrow you return to Kail -Baleski. It shall be given out that you have been rescued from the -brigands who carried you off, and at once our marriage shall be -properly solemnised before the Patriarch of Ironia. Is it not a most -romantic marriage I am offering you?" - -Olga stood up and faced him. Something of all that she was giving up, -things known and things hoped for, seemed to present itself to her then -in that fleeting moment. She covered her face in her hands. - -"I will marry you," she whispered. - -"Good!" cried Miridoff. "I knew you would see the matter in its right -light, my pretty one." Then his voice suddenly changed. "But come, no -more of this pettishness. You have taken the step now. Can you not -trust me that you will not regret it?" - -She remained quite motionless. - -"I must go now," he went on. "In three hours' time you must be at -Hawk's Rest. You must go alone. My men here will direct you. You -will be given a mask." - -He turned and strode towards the door. Arriving there, he paused and -turned back. There was a moment's silence. Confused and distressed in -mind as she was, Olga was conscious of a subtle change in his attitude. - -"Olga," he cried, his arrogant composure giving away before a deeper -emotion, "although to-night I have it in my power to make and unmake -empires, I would rather fail in my mission than lose you. I told you -that I would force you to marry me, and now I almost believe I am -better satisfied to get you in this way. It has come down from the -days of the cave man that an unwilling bride sometimes makes the best -wife. Measure the depth of my love by the extremes I have adopted to -get you!" - -Her words followed hot upon his. "Listen, your grace," she cried, -suddenly and passionately, "I am prepared to marry you to save my -father's life. I do not know if he is really in your power as you say. -It may be that you have lied. You are capable of gross trickery. But -I can't withhold my consent on such a chance. The possibility of -danger to my father is the only consideration. I will marry you, and -if I find that you have tricked me--or if any harm befall my father now -or at any future time--I swear I will kill you!" - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -THE RESCUING PARTY - -"I wonder how much farther we have to go?" - -Fenton voiced the query with rising impatience. For the past three -hours they had been following a tortuous trail up and down the -mountain-side, and the Canadian had chafed at the unavoidable slowness -of their march. Beside him tramped Crane, his head with its flaring -mop of red hair bent resolutely forward. Ahead of them was the -towering figure of Take Larescu and, dotted back along the path by -which they had come, was a long file of hill men. - -"Can't be much farther," said Crane. "Larescu said we would make it in -a little over three hours, and we must have been on the tramp fully -that long now. I've come to the conclusion our bulky friend means -everything he says. Even when he hashes up our proverbs and wise saws, -he gets more sense into them than the originators." - -"Larescu is a wonder," affirmed Fenton. "Talk about organisation! -He's got this hill country trimmed into better shape than a political -ward in New York. Now how do you suppose he found where the princess -was being kept?" - -"Well, he had five hours to work in while we were sleeping," said -Crane. "News travel fast in the mountains. You may not credit it, but -a word is passed along faster up here than in a crowded city. These -hill people can communicate with each other from one peak to another. -Fact. They've learned to pitch their voices so high the sound carries -to almost incredible distances. I've seen proofs of it. Larescu -probably has agents at Kirkalisse who ferreted out the news for him and -then passed it along." - -They tramped on for a few minutes in silence. - -"Miridoff is up to all the tricks," said Fenton finally. "It would -never have done for him to have had the princess taken to Kirkalisse. -By holding her up in this deserted hunting lodge, he keeps himself -clear of any blame in case of a miscarriage of his plans. Still he has -made it easier for us. Getting the princess safely away will be a -comparatively easy matter now." - -"I am not so sure of that myself," rejoined Crane. "I think this grand -ducal enemy of yours has something up his sleeve. In fact, I'm -anticipating a stiff fight." - -Larescu, some distance in front of them, had reached the crest of the -precipitous mountain-side up which they had so laboriously worked their -way. He turned back and stretched out his arm toward the west. On the -slope of a distant hill rose the black towers of a building of imposing -dimensions. - -"Kirkalisse," said Larescu. He regarded the distant castle with a -lowering frown. "I have a long score to settle with the master of -Kirkalisse, a score dating back ten years. The balance is in his -favour so far, but perhaps to-night I shall exact heavy payment for the -wrongs the Grand Duke has done!" - -"Are we far from the lodge?" asked Fenton eagerly. - -"My impulsive young friend, accept this assurance that in half an hour -her royal highness will be safely in our hands," said Larescu. "Do not -worry. Everything is arranged. I have set my hand to the plough--as -your proverb goes--and I shall gather no moss." - -Half an hour later, in response to a warning gesture from Larescu, they -stopped on the edge of a large clearing in the thick forest through -which the latter part of their journey had taken them. It was rapidly -growing dark, but at the far end of the clearing it was still possible -to discern the outlines of a frame building of picturesque design. Two -paths led to this structure, the one by which they had come and a -second and wider road which wound off through the forest in the -opposite direction. - -"Your princess is there," whispered Crane, pointing to the building. - -Fenton glanced eagerly across the clearing and dimly made out the -figure of a man pacing up and down in front of the lodge with a rifle -over his shoulder. As he looked, a second figure emerged from the -lodge and, after a brief word with the sentry, strode briskly along the -second path. There was something familiar about the carriage of this -man that won Fenton's attention. - -"Crane, that is Miridoff," he whispered to his companion, motioning -after the receding figure. "I couldn't get a glimpse of his face, but -I'm sure it's our man. That path must lead to Kirkalisse." - -Crane fingered his revolver with a speculative air. - -"I'm a fair shot, Fenton," he said. "It might save a lot of trouble if -I potted him now." - -"It wouldn't do," replied Fenton. "We have no positive proofs of his -complicity yet and a murder charge is just as serious a matter here as -it is under British law. No, I think we can safely leave the -punishment of the Grand Duke to our doughty Larescu." - -The leader of the hill men turned at this moment and cautiously made -his way back to them. - -"There are but two or three armed men at the lodge," he said. "We can -take it without difficulty. I shall spread a line of my men around on -all sides. Then a quick rush--and her highness is safe once more." - -Crane, who had been regarding the dim outlines of the hunting lodge -with interest, suddenly let drop a hasty ejaculation and grasped -Fenton's arm. With every evidence of excitement, he pointed toward the -building. - -"Look at that!" he commanded. At the rear of the lodge the tops of -several high trees elevated themselves in restive silhouette against -the darkening sky. Above the level of the highest tree was a single -mast that a casual observer would probably have mistaken for a flag -pole. - -"Wireless!" said Crane. "There's no mistaking the apparatus. I served -as operator on an Atlantic steamship for a year and I ought to know a -wireless plant when I see one. Saturnine Sisyphus, we're certainly in -luck on this trip, Fenton! Here we've probably stumbled on the station -by means of which Miridoff has kept in close touch with the Austrians -across the border. If we keep our heads now we can find out his whole -plan of campaign." - -Crane's discovery necessitated new arrangements for the capture of the -lodge. A rush from all sides as Larescu had planned would not now -serve as it would give the defender an opportunity to send a message -across space giving warning of the attack. As Crane pointed out, it -was necessary to capture or incapacitate the operator before any -attempt was made to rush the place. - -Accordingly it was settled that nothing would be done, with the -exception of establishing a cordon around the lodge, until Crane had -had an opportunity to reconnoitre. The Englishman cautiously skirted -the clearing until he had reached a point in the rear of the building. -He investigated the clump of trees, from the midst of which the -wireless mast protruded, and found that his surmise had been correct. -A thoroughly up-to-date wireless plant had been installed. - -As he moved quietly about, a light showed in a second story rear -window. One of the trees grew close to the building, and Crane judged -that, by climbing it, he would obtain a view of the lighted room. -Accordingly he removed his boots and slowly worked his way up the tree -to a position where he could see within. - -A man in uniform sat at a desk with an oil lamp beside him. He was -industriously working his key, his gaze fixed the while on a sheet of -paper that lay spread out on the table. As far as Crane could make out -the room was quite bare of other furniture. - -For several minutes the operator stuck to his key, while not more than -twelve feet away, crouching over a branch that bent with his weight, -Crane watched every move he made with the utmost eagerness. Finally -the man in uniform stood up and, holding the sheet to the lamp flame, -carefully burned it to the last scrap. Then he left the room, closing -the door after him. - -Crane saw his opportunity. By edging along the limb he could bring -himself within arm's length of the window ledge. Inch by inch he -worked his way on the swaying branch, fearing each second that it would -give way under his weight. It held, however, and at last he had the -satisfaction of grasping the firm ledge of the window and swinging -himself across to it. The window lifted easily enough and Crane -climbed quietly into the room. - -He had scarcely reached the floor when the sound of returning footsteps -caused him to dash on tiptoe across the room to a commanding position -behind the door. It opened and the operator stepped briskly into the -room. The latter had almost reached his seat before he became aware of -another presence in the room. His eyes opened wide and his jaw sagged -with amazement when he saw Crane. The latter with a grim frown had -stepped between him and the door and was covering him with a revolver. - -"Make a sound and you're a dead man!" said Crane, in a shrill whisper. -He conveyed his ultimatum first in Ironian and then in German. - -The operator, after the first effects of his surprise had passed, -recovered his wits sufficiently to seat himself facing Crane. This -placed him in such a position that he covered the instrument on the -table. Divining his purpose to operate the instrument behind his back, -Crane brought his revolver up to a business-like level and covered his -man. - -"Stand up," he ordered. - -The operator hesitated a moment and then got to his feet. - -"Hands in front of you!" In a trice Crane had replaced the revolver in -his belt, pinioned one of the operator's hands over the other and bound -them with a handkerchief. It was done so neatly that, within a minute -from the time the first move was made, the man had been unceremoniously -shoved back into his chair with his hands bound in front of him. He -appeared thoroughly dazed. - -Then came an unexpected development. A light step sounded outside the -door. Crane, who was proceeding to gag the pinioned operator, looked -up and saw a girl standing in the doorway--a pretty girl who viewed his -proceedings with every evidence of astonishment. Crane was thorough in -his methods. He promptly left the task of trussing up the operator and -dragged the girl into the room with more force than ceremony, taking -the precaution to close the door and sternly admonishing her the while -to keep silent. - -"Not a sound out of you or I'll treat you the same way as I've done -Marconi here," he said, seating her in the only other chair that the -room boasted, and speaking in the native tongue. - -The girl showed no evidence of fear, despite the rough handling she had -received and the grim appearance of the aggressive Crane. She sat back -quietly enough and watched his movements with keenest interest. -Keeping a wary eye on his two prisoners the while, Crane took up the -lamp and signalled with it through the window, moving it backward and -forward in front of him several times. He kept this up until convinced -that his signal had been noted. Then he placed the lamp back on the -table and detached two revolvers from his belt. - -"There's likely to be no end of a shindy downstairs," he said to the -girl. "You mustn't get frightened, you know. You won't get hurt. -Just stay where you are and close your jaw and no harm will come to -you." - -There was a sudden shout, a sound of rushing feet, a shot or two. -Crane ran from the room and down a flight of stairs that opened before -him, shouting at the top of his voice. He found Fenton and several of -the hill men standing in the doorway. The lodge had been captured -without a blow. - -It was found that there were three men in the place beside the -operator. The defenders had made no attempt at resistance, prudently -deciding, when the numbers of the attacking party became manifest, that -resistance would be useless in any case. They were bound securely in -the lodge under guard. The two maids were confined in another room and -also guarded. All this happened in the course of ten minutes. - -"The operator's upstairs, safely trussed," said Crane to Fenton. -"There's a girl there too, but I don't think it can be the princess. -Hello! Here she is herself." - -Anna Petrowa, holding the lamp above her head, had appeared on the -stairs. She gave a cry of delight when she discerned the fair head of -Fenton towering above the group of men in the dark hall. - -"My brave Canadian, no time you lost in getting here," she said, coming -down the stairs. - -"How is it that you are here?" demanded Fenton in amazement. - -"The Grand Duke's orders," replied Anna in low tones. "It was thought -best that the princess should not be left without companionship. And -then I was to keep a close watch on her. But this plan has not been -the success. The princess has shut herself up and I have seen her but -little." - -"Where is she now?" asked Fenton, with all of a lover's eagerness. - -Anna indicated a door leading off from the right of the hall. "You -will find her there," she said. Then she placed a delaying hand on the -arm. "Who is the extraordinary person of the very red hair? He made -me a prisoner. He is the most rough, the most brutal--but----" - -"Crane!" shouted Fenton. "I am going to leave Mademoiselle Petrowa in -your charge. You apparently have amends to make to mademoiselle, who, -by the way, has done a great deal for the Cause--more than any of us -know. Could you manage to be polite for a while?" - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -THE RENUNCIATION - -At times when the emotion runs high, considerations of a practical, -artificial or conventional nature are often lost sight of; everything, -in fact, recedes from the mind but the truly essential things. At such -times one forgets caste, rejects pride and brushes aside the petty -objections and restrictions that custom has hedged around us, and -remembers only the deeper instincts that in reality shape one's course -in life. - -Olga was disturbed from the sad reverie into which she had fallen on -the departure of Miridoff by hoarse shouts and the sound of running men -without. When, brought to her feet by a knock at her door, she had -thrown it open to find Fenton there, Olga forgot that she was a -princess of the royal line, forgot that she had pledged herself to -marry the Grand Duke that very night, forgot that life was sad, cruel, -inexorable, forgot everything but that HE was there, that she was -suddenly glad.... - -And when Fenton saw her standing in the semi-darkness, a slender -drooping figure with infinite pathos in her soft violet eyes, he forgot -that he had seen her but three times all together, forgot that on their -past meeting they had parted with pronounced coolness, forgot that she -was born to the purple of royalty, forgot everything but that he loved -her and that she was meant to be his.... And so both lost sight of all -considerations, practical, artificial or conventional, and remembered -the only truly essential thing in life to them. Fenton gathered her up -in his arms. Olga yielded willingly, gladly. - -Such moments, however, are brief. On second thoughts these same -considerations of a practical, artificial or conventional nature come -trooping back into the mind, stern judges who mercilessly point out the -folly of one's course in temporarily forgetting them. Fenton, exalted -beyond all compare by her unexpected surrender, rained kisses on her -hair, her brow, her eyes, her nose, the dimple in her cheek. When he -reached her lips, the meaning of it all came back to Olga. She began -to remember again, her position, her promise--and Miridoff. Breaking -from his embrace with sudden strength, she ran to the couch and threw -herself upon it, burying her head in her arms while passionate sobs -shook her. - -From the lofty heights of exultation, Fenton descended to the barren -plain of uncertainty and bewilderment. Manlike he could not understand -her sudden change of attitude, and manlike he stood over the couch and -looked down at her ruefully and awkwardly. When he essayed to touch -her she shrank away from him and her sobs increased in violence. - -But Olga had been trained in a stern school and it did not take her -long to conquer her emotion. The spell passed as suddenly as it had -come. She sat up and dried her eyes and even (for a girl can remember -such things at moments of deepest stress) patted her hair into shape -again. - -"Come, sit down beside me," she said quietly and compassionately. -"There are many things we must say--and our time, alas, is so short." - -Fenton sat down. He longed to clasp her in his arms again, she looked -so pretty and fragile, but something warned him not to do so. Olga -understood and rewarded him by placing one little hand in his. - -"It was wrong," she said, looking him frankly in the eyes for the first -time. "There can be nothing between us. Presently I shall tell you -why. But first there are things we must tell each other frankly." - -Fenton sat as if turned to stone. The loving abandon of her welcome -had set his heart beating wildly with new hopes and aspirations. Now -he realised dully that for some reason all hope would be taken from him. - -"Do you love me?" she asked. - -It was hardly necessary for him to speak. His answer shone in his eyes. - -"I love you." - -There was a pause. For a moment, an ecstatic, all-too-brief moment, -her head rested lightly against his shoulder. - -"I shall always have that to remember, to help me," she said, almost in -a reflective tone. - -"And you--you love me?" asked Fenton. His throat seemed suddenly -parched and words came haltingly. - -"Yes," whispered Olga, permitting for a moment the pressure of his arm -which had stolen about her--but for a moment only. "I love you. And I -am glad of it, even if it is wrong that I should." - -"I loved you the first time I saw you," he said. - -"I am not sure when it really started with me, but it must have been -the very first time," said Olga musingly, almost forgetting the tragic -realities of her position in the consideration of a problem so -thrillingly important. "I _knew_ when I thought you were making love -to that other woman. Tell me that you were not." - -"Mademoiselle Petrowa!" exclaimed Fenton, with a mirthless laugh. "Of -course not. She's a Russian secret service agent and has been working -for us. She's wonderful and brave and I admire her a great deal. -But----" - -It is sometimes possible to convey a clearer meaning by what we don't -say than by what we might have said. Fenton's omission was eloquent -and convincing. - -"I am glad," said Olga, smiling her satisfaction quaintly. "She told -me a story to-day that I wanted to believe. And now I do." - -By mutual consent explanations on that point ceased. None further were -needed. Olga and her lover each knew where the other stood, knew and -were happy in the knowledge of the other's love. By mutual consent -also they left off for as long as possible any reference to the -catastrophe that threatened to wreck their happiness. - -Finally, however, it had to be told. Olga, her resolution suddenly -breaking, crept into the shelter of his arms when telling of Miridoff's -cruel and cunning device. The story finished, she threw her arms -around her lover's neck and with a paroxysm of weeping implored him to -protect her, to save her from the hideous fate that loomed ahead. -Fenton consoled her with brave words of consolation, while black -thoughts filled his mind. A primitive desire to kill the cunning Grand -Duke took possession of him. - -"Don't cry, little girl," he said. "Of course there's a way out. -You'll not have to marry that black-hearted scoundrel. To-night Take -Larescu will have three thousand men hammering at the gates of -Kirkalisse. And I personally guarantee that Miridoff will not get away -alive." - -But his face belied his words. Fenton realised to the fullest how -cunningly Miridoff had laid his plans. - -Slowly Olga extricated herself from his arms and dried her eyes. Her -courage was coming back. She smiled at him bravely. - -"I know you would willingly die to save me," she said. "But how would -killing this man help me? Would it carry the pledge to the assassin -who waits at an unknown point to take my father's life? No, dear -heart, there is nothing that can be done. The spider has spun his web -too cleverly. I--I am entangled." - -"There will be a way out," said Fenton through set teeth. "I will find -it. I can't give you up." - -He seized her roughly in his arms and looked long and earnestly into -her eyes. Then slowly his hold relaxed. He groaned, miserable and -rebellious at his impotence. Gently she drew herself away. - -"We have loved but to lose," she whispered. "Courage, my dear. Go -please, go now. It makes it so hard----" - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -TWO FIGHT: ONE FALLS - -Fenton left the room with his mind filled with surging, angry emotions. -For some time he paced up and down in front of the lodge, thinking over -what the princess had told him and vainly cudgeling his brain for a -plan to circumvent the Grand Duke. He could not yet accept defeat. -Instead, he felt confident that there was some way out, that he could -save her. The more he struggled with the problem and realised the -cunning with which Miridoff had made his plans, the greater became his -determination. - -He finally sought out Crane and frankly put the facts before him. -Although he had known the voluble and irascible young Englishman for -little more than a day, Fenton had already come to place the utmost -reliance in him. On the tramp that afternoon from Larescu's -headquarters they had discussed the political situation in Ironia, and -Fenton had unreservedly stated the incidents leading up to the -abduction of the princess. - -Crane heard of the latest development with every manifestation of deep -anger. But his resentment, after all, had to spend itself in futile -threats and mighty sounding oaths; he had no practical suggestions to -offer. - -"The part of it that I can't understand," said Fenton finally, "is with -reference to the gipsy band who are to perform this infamous ceremony. -I thought Larescu controlled all the people in the hills." - -"You'll run into wandering tribes of gipsies in all parts of the Balkan -countries," replied Crane, shaking his head. "They have no -nationality. They come and go as they please and know no law but the -word of their chief. One of the hill men told me to-night that some of -the Pesth band were camped over there to the west of us. They'll do -anything, these gipsies, if the reward is sufficient or the pressure -brought to bear strong enough." - -"It's my opinion that Miridoff is bluffing," declared Fenton, clutching -at a straw. "He is trying to frighten the princess into marrying him. -For all we know, Prince Peter is now safe at home in Serajoz." - -But again Crane shook his head. "I don't think so," he said. "When -you know Ironia as well as I do, you'll realise that this is exactly -what might be expected to happen. Prince Peter stands in Miridoff's -path--he must be removed. The princess refuses to marry him--she must -be forced. There is no way of warning the prince. If the pledge is -not sent in the way prescribed--Peter will surely die." - -Hastily, desperately they debated many plans, but discarded them all as -either too dangerous or not feasible, and it was with a feeling closely -akin to despair that Fenton finally realised the time had come for Olga -to keep the appointment at the Hawk's Rest--and that he had found no -way to save her. Then all of a sudden determination came to him. He -sprang to his feet and grimly examined his revolvers to see if they -were properly loaded. - -"It may be necessary for the princess to go through with this marriage -in order to save her father's life," he declared, with implacable -purpose burning in his eyes. "But Miridoff shall never return to -Kirkalisse. That I swear." - -After arranging with Crane to see that Olga was escorted to the Hawk's -Rest, Fenton set out with a guide for the same place. When he arrived -there he sent his guide back and carefully reconnoitred the ground. It -was a clearing on the crest of one of the highest hills. It was -approached by two paths; one from the hunting lodge, the other from -Kirkalisse. The latter road ran for a considerable distance along the -precipitous side of the mountain. Up to a certain point it was wide -and level enough. Not many yards from the junction the road narrowed -till it became little more than a cramped path. - -The gipsies were camped in the clearing. A large fire blazed in the -centre, the flames rising at times almost to the tops of the -surrounding trees. - -Fenton decided to station himself as near the clearing as he could -without being observed. The surrounding thicket presented ample means -for concealment. He finally placed himself close by the path from -Kirkalisse. - -No clearly defined purpose had yet formed in his mind. He was prepared -to let fate map out his course of action now, and it was probably with -an instinctive idea of protecting Olga that he placed himself on the -path by which Miridoff would come. - -It was very still, save for the low hum of voices in the clearing -behind. Fenton peered anxiously into the darkness. Three or four -yards in front of him a bend occurred in the narrow path, and the brush -on his left hid the slender ribbon of roadway. To his right was the -precipice, a sheer drop of many hundred feet. - -As he listened, the sound of footsteps came from beyond the bend in the -path. They drew closer, and around the bend appeared the figure of a -man. The new-comer was muffled in a military cloak, beneath which -dangled a sabre. He wore a military cap. Fenton recognised Miridoff, -and instantly the spell of indecision passed. An idea flashed through -his mind, determining his course of action. Stepping forward, the -Canadian barred the path. - -"Stop!" he commanded in German. - -Miridoff recognised the voice. "You!" he exclaimed, instinctively -drawing back a pace and freeing his sword arm from the folds of the -cloak. For a moment the two men regarded each other in tense silence. - -"We are well met," declared Miridoff then. "You have crossed my path -once too often. This time I shall finish you!" - -"Well met indeed," said Fenton, with a grim laugh that had something of -triumph in it--for suddenly there came to him a way to save the -princess. "You come just in time, your grace, to enable me to carry -out a certain plan. I need----" - -Miridoff flung back his cloak and drew a pistol from his belt. -Realising that a fraction of a second's delay would cost him his life, -Fenton hurled himself bodily forward and pinned the Grand Duke's arms -to his sides. The impact carried them back close to the edge of the -precipice. The revolver Miridoff had drawn fell from his grasp and -clattered on the rocky path. - -"Presumptuous, meddling fool!" exclaimed the Grand Duke, straining to -loosen the hold of his young adversary. "It is fitter that you die -this way than that I should soil my sword." - -"Trickster, traitor, assassin!" answered Fenton, exerting the utmost of -his strength to maintain his hold on his powerful adversary. "You'll -never live to complete your theft of a bride! Before you die--I want -you to know--that we took the lodge an hour ago. The wireless is in -our hands. Before I throw you over the cliff, think of this--your -plans will miscarry, you will be remembered in Ironia as--the man who -tried to sell his country!" - -Fenton's breath had come in puffs; it was difficult to speak when he -needed all his energies for action. - -They struggled back and forth. Both were powerful men; Miridoff had -the advantage in weight and strength, but Fenton was the more lithe and -active. They were well matched. Almost on the edge of the precipice -they fought it out, a grim struggle to the death. Once Fenton's foot -slipped over the edge, but he regained his firm footing on the ledge -again almost instantly. Miridoff, hampered by his cloak, managed to -free himself from its folds. It fell under their feet and nearly ended -the fight by tripping them both. - -Fenton fought with calculating coolness, but his mind was in a turmoil. -If he could master this man the happiness of the princess would be -assured, for it would give him an opportunity to carry out the plan -that had flashed through his mind a few minutes before. If he failed -to conquer the Grand Duke, then Olga was lost. - -The thought spurred him to something like super-human efforts. He -struggled fiercely, animated with a determination to kill his -adversary. He became the physical embodiment of that one idea. -Miridoff must be put out of the way. - -The darkness closed down more dense than ever over the tightly clenched -figures. They swayed this way and that, careless of death that faced -them both if they went a foot too far. At intervals Fenton caught -fleeting glimpses of the red glow which he knew to be Hawk's Rest, -where perhaps Olga was now waiting--unconsciously waiting the outcome -of the struggle. - - * * * * * - -Then it became apparent that the equality of the struggle had ceased. -One of the antagonists had secured a hold on the other's throat. The -beaten man struggled backward to escape from the relentless grip of his -opponent. His effort was successful. He broke away free. But his -foot was over the edge. His effort to free himself had carried him -back too far. An instant he swayed uncertainly on the edge, then fell -backward. - -The victor stood a moment silently glancing into the darkness through -which the black, shapeless form had hurtled down. - -Then he turned and picked up the cloak. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -MARRIED OVER THE TONGS - -From the blackness of night that had settled down over the mountains, -Olga emerged into the clear space that was known as Hawk's Rest, in the -centre of which was a blazing fire and about which sat in curious -groups the gipsies of the Pesth band. The setting was weird enough and -fantastic enough to have been transplanted from a past century, when -the nomad was legion, and the comprachicos thrived under the wing of -royalty. The uncertain play of the flames against the background of -tangled firs wrought awesome figures out of the gloom, and, throwing a -reddish tinge on the swarthy gipsy faces, rendered them unreal and -grotesque. The band were dressed in the picturesque garb of the -eastern nomad that has survived the changing influence of several -centuries. Bedecked in the most brilliant colours, the women decorated -by rouge and rings, the men with pistols and daggers, they presented in -the flickering light a spectacle that one would never forget. - -Muffled in a dark cloak and masked, the princess stepped into the -lighted space near the fire. Of the timidity that might have been -expected to manifest itself, not a trace was to be found. Her step was -slow but resolute, and in her whole attitude a calm fearlessness was -reflected. Truth to tell, Olga was as unconscious of external -impressions as though she were treading the polished floor of a -ball-room. Her mind was obsessed with a double fear that weighed upon -her consciousness with deadening persistence--fear for her father's -life, and fear for herself--afterward. She had no thought of turning -back, no sense of self-pity, no idea of the magnitude of her sacrifice. -Her duty was quite clear, but equally clear was the realisation of what -it meant. As she stepped close to the centre of the gipsy ring she -mentally bade farewell to youth, hope, love, happiness--everything. - -The gipsy chief stood beside the fire--tall, withered, white-haired, a -wraith of a man in fantastic garb that bespoke his rank. A gipsy chief -is more absolute than any king; his word is the law of the band, his -will the guiding factor. The attitude of the old gipsy was -unmistakably regal. - -Out of the shadows on the opposite side came the figure of Miridoff. A -mask covered his whole face. He was cloaked and hatted for a journey, -and his gait showed haste, even a degree of nervousness. - -Olga went through the ceremony that followed in a daze. Standing in -front of the hissing, spitting flames, her hand clasped in that of the -Grand Duke and extended over the tongs, she heard the old chief's -cracked voice proclaim the unknown words that tied her for ever to the -man she had so much reason to fear and hate. As the ritual proceeded, -the gipsies--seated far away it seemed to her from the monotonous sound -of their voices, though occasionally through the intermittent flash of -the flames, their faces appeared to glower directly at her through -panes of magic flame--started up a chant. It was a mournful strain, -gathering volume as it proceeded and finally culminating in an outburst -of sound that expressed triumph and passion. - -Was ever the sacred rite performed under circumstances more -repugnant--gipsy tongs for an altar, a sinister gipsy chief for a -priest, the wild Romany chant for a hymn of gladness, the shrouding -darkness of the mountain-side for a cathedral, and the much-feared and -much-hated Miridoff for a bridegroom! Some thought of the incongruity -of it all penetrated to Olga's mind through the deep fear that had -taken hold of her. As the concluding bars of the gipsy ritual rose -from around her, she snatched her hand from the grasp of Miridoff and -tightly clasped her ears to shut out the sound. A sob escaped her. -Her weakness was but momentary. Quickly marshalling her forces of -resolution, the princess dropped into the withered hand of the chief -the ring which would ensure her father's safety and for which she had -sold herself into life-long bondage. The chief transferred it to a -husky young gipsy and spoke a few words of instruction. - -"Tell him to hasten," pleaded Olga. "He must not fail to carry the -pledge to its destination within the specified time! Tell him that -riches shall be his, untold riches, if he carries out his mission. I -promise it." - -Turning to Miridoff who was standing by silently and, truth to tell, a -little awkwardly, she urged upon him the necessity for haste on the -part of the messenger. "I have paid your price," she reminded him. - -Miridoff bowed; but did not speak. Taking her by the arm he led her -from the Hawk's Rest, and out along the narrow path by which she had -come from the hunting lodge. Where the path narrowed so that single -file became necessary, he dropped to the rear and they walked on in -silence for a spell of perhaps ten minutes. - -Olga felt unutterably weary. Mental anguish had drawn heavily on her -strength, and the excitement of the day had brought her to the verge of -a collapse. As they reached the turn of the broad trail that led up to -the lodge, the small remnant of her strength that was left deserted -her. She stopped, stretched out one hand for support, and then fell -back in a faint. - -Olga came back to life with a strange sense of security and comfort. -Her head rested on a broad, comfortable shoulder. Two arms encompassed -her. She was being carried up the steep, winding trail with an ease -that bespoke unusual strength in her bearer. Too weak to move, too -faint even for curiosity, she lay inertly in his arms. She realised -dimly where they were when at last they entered the lodge, and it was -with a faint regret that she felt herself lowered--so carefully and -tenderly--to a couch. - -Deft hands placed and adjusted cushions; there was a sound of much -hurrying to and fro, and several voices close at hand. Out of the -jumble of sounds that registered partially on her slowly reviving -senses, came a new voice, sharp and incisive, which said: "Hands up!" -Followed a pause and then a laugh, hearty and spontaneous but -restrained, out of deference, she dimly realised, for her condition. -Then a voice came out of the mists that was very familiar--and also -very dear. There was more talk, more laughing, and then full -consciousness came back to her with a shock! Words had distinctly -reached her out of the indistinct babel of sounds, three words that -electrified her, sending her heart beating wildly. "Miridoff is dead," -someone had said. - -Olga would have spoken, but found that weakness and excitement had -combined to render her powerless either to move or speak. She heard -the familiar and dear voice--and now she realised why it was dear, and -just how dear it was--this time speaking from very close at hand. -"Hand me the cordial, Crane," it said. Then an arm was slipped under -her shoulders, and she was raised slightly from her recumbent position -while a spoon was inserted between her lips. The cordial revived her -wonderfully, but she did not open her eyes. Perhaps it was because she -found the pressure of that strong arm so comforting. - -"Hold on, Fenton," said the sharp and incisive voice. "Aren't you kind -of making that business of supporting the invalid a bit too realistic? -You act more like a lover than a nurse!" - -And then came the astounding reply: "Hang it, Crane, can't I hug my own -wife?" - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -THE PLOT DISCOVERED - -Olga slowly sat up. The room, she realised, was now empty save for the -man who knelt beside her couch; a man in a long military cloak, that -belonged, she knew, or had belonged, to her arch-enemy, now her -husband. But the man wearing the cloak was not old, dark, and heavily -whiskered. On the contrary, he was young, fair, and without a hair on -his face. Donald Fenton sat on the floor beside her, in Miridoff's -cloak, and he it had been who had said, "Miridoff is dead!" - -Olga gazed at him in bewilderment. - -"The duke, where is he?" she questioned faintly. - -"He is not here," said Fenton. There was something strangely thrilling -about this handsome young alien kneeling before her. It was perhaps -the rapt way in which he was regarding her; almost as though he thought -she belonged to him. His eyes were full of some secret that he wanted -to share with her, a secret that already she intuitively seemed to -understand. - -"Have I been dreaming?" she asked. "Did I really go to-night to that -place where all those dreadful people were, or was it just a dream?" - -"You were really there," replied Fenton. His tone was quite calm, but -that secret was burning in his eyes. - -"Then where is the Grand Duke? And my father--will he----" - -"His highness will be quite safe," Fenton assured her. "But as for -Miridoff, he is dead!" - -His hand reached out and took possession of hers. It was quite -respectfully done, as though he sought to convey sympathy, assurance. -She made no effort to withdraw her hand. - -In a few words he told her of the meeting with Miridoff, of the -struggle on the cliff side, and of the ending, when the Grand Duke, -losing his balance on the edge, fell backward and down into the abyss. - -"By a direct dispensation of Providence, his hat and cloak were left," -he went on. "I realised that if his highness, your father, were to be -saved, it was necessary for the wedding to go on. So I donned the -cloak, hat and mask, and took Miridoff's place." - -There was a tense silence. The girl covered her face, scarlet with -confusion and a strange new emotion, in her hands. Fenton struggled to -his feet and gazed down at her for a moment with the most wonderful -tenderness in his eyes and a sad smile of renunciation on his lips. -Then he started to pace the room, quickly, fitfully, nervously, a stern -mental struggle showing in his face. Finally he stopped in front of -her and said, slowly and quietly: - -"A wedding over the tongs is considered binding. We are married in the -eyes of the law, perhaps even in the eyes of the church. But it can -quite easily be set aside. I knew that, of course. I was quite -prepared to step aside--so you must not let this worry you!" - -The girl raised her head and gazed at him intently for a moment. Then -she stood up and faced him. - -"Do you want the marriage set aside?" she asked. - -A dull flush spread over Fenton's face. He made as though to clasp her -in his arms, then checked himself with an effort at repression, only to -yield again to the impulse. She felt herself drawn towards him. - -"Olga, I dare not answer you!" he cried. "I meant to be firm, but I -can only remember that for a time at least you are my wife!" He rained -kisses on her face and hair and neck. It was a full minute before she -succeeded in drawing herself away--and then it was only to arm's length. - -Fenton had expected a storm of indignant protest. He saw instead a -tremulous smile, a radiant flush, and eyes that were filled to -overflowing with happiness. And he heard her say: - -"If there is any question as to the legality of the marriage, had you -not better find a priest?" - - * * * * * - -Fenton's arrival at the lodge, with the princess in his arms, had -created a sensation, to say the least. It was not until he had removed -his mask at Crane's strident command, that his real identity was -discovered. When it developed that the Canadian and Olga were actually -married, Crane retired to the operator's room above in a state of -thorough mental mystification. He tramped in heavily and sat himself -down in his chair, quite ignoring Mademoiselle Petrowa who was seated -at the other side of the table; which was Crane's usual way with women. - -The dancer and Crane had been thrown together continuously since the -arrival of the rescuing party at the lodge. Anna had made certain -tentative advances of a mildly flirtatious character, and Crane had -responded by bullying her most ferociously; which, after all, is not so -far removed from love-making. Strangely enough, Anna had not really -understood his attitude. She was puzzled by this stormy, red-haired -individual, who ordered her about as though she were a stage-hand. She -had acknowledged to herself that he was an interesting type of man, a -compelling type. When he had smiled--he had a most engaging smile--she -had felt strangely attracted. - -He coolly removed his coat and collar and rolled his shirt sleeves up -to his elbows. Then he produced a pipe that he had found somewhere in -the lodge, a most vile one, too, and settled down for a comfortable -smoke. Through the haze that surrounded him he nodded frowningly at -his companion. - -"Pretty business, downstairs," he said, in an aggrieved tone. "Here's -this fellow, Fenton, who knows the work we've got ahead of us and yet -goes and wastes time getting married." - -"Married!" cried Anna, in genuine amazement. - -"Married," responded Crane with confirmatory disgust. "It seems he -chucked Miridoff off the cliff and then took his place at the ceremony. -The happy couple are downstairs now." - -There was a period of silence. Anna had been well aware of the state -of affairs between Fenton and Olga, but its sudden _denouement_ almost -took her breath away. Crane studied her shrewdly out of the corner of -his eye. - -"Just the same I admire the beggar's nerve!" he said finally. "He'll -be putting ideas in other heads. Now if an ordinary fellow like Fenton -can pick up with a princess, perhaps even a down-at-heels engineer -could aspire to--er----" - -Anna laughed, a rippling laugh thai expressed enlightenment and much -satisfaction. She had seen beneath the armour of bluster, and knew -that in reality Crane would be as wax in her facile hands. From that -moment dated the ascendency of Anna. - -Crane frowned with offended dignity, but Anna continued to laugh and to -regard him in a way that said, plainer than words, "At last I have -found you out." Crane's frown was like a threat from the commandant of -the citadel after he has hauled down his flag and surrendered the keys. -Perceiving something of this, Crane turned hastily to the wireless, -glad of an interruption provided by a faint click that gave notice of -an arriving message. - -For a moment he regarded the keys with casual interest, then the -expression of his face changed to one of surprise, concern, and finally -to almost incredulous delight. For ten minutes he alternately received -and sent replies, feverish interest showing in every line of him. What -the news could be, flashing back and forth across space, to cause such -concern, his companion could not conceive. She watched him with keen -expectancy. - -Completing the sending of a final message, Crane suddenly sprang up -from the instrument. Dragging her from her chair, he waltzed her round -the room hilariously, winding up the performance by lifting her bodily -to a seat on the table. Standing before her he declaimed excitedly: -"You've witnessed the making of history, girl! A most stupendous piece -of luck has come our way. I've blundered on to the means to bring -Ironia into line. To-morrow we'll be at war with Austria!" And he -danced up and down the room, his red face redder than ever. - -The first flush of his excitement over, he picked up his pipe again and -began to pull at it furiously. - -"Pardon the exuberance," he said. "I felt so pleased with myself and -everything in general that I simply had to do something. You see I've -got an idea, a scheme that's going to take some working out. It's a -big idea, too. Didn't know I had it in me. But, look here, I can't -leave the room for fear the operator over the line there in Austria -takes it into his head to let out some more state secrets. Now run -down and order Fenton to come up here--there's a good girl." - -When Anna had gone, Crane did some hard thinking. He had the faculty -of quick calculation. It had instantly occurred to him how the message -he had waylaid might be turned to good account, and, in a dim way too, -he gained a superficial understanding of the details necessary for the -success of his scheme. Swiftly he turned and touched the keys. In a -few moments he was in touch with the Austrian station from which the -first message had come. So intent was he on the business in hand that -he paid no attention when the others entered the room. - -"Where exactly is the Ironian regiment ready to join yours?" This was -the question he sent. In a moment he got his answer; and, having -assured the officer with whom he was in communication that his earlier -request should be attended to, he turned and nodded to Fenton. - -"Fenton," he said, "I've just received a message that reveals the whole -of Miridoff's plan. It came from Austrian headquarters ten miles -across the line. An hour ago, in accordance with a pre-arranged plan, -a thousand Austrian troops moved out of camp in the direction of the -Russian frontier. The plan, as I understand it now, is this." - -He grasped a piece of paper and roughly sketched a map of the district. -"Here's our present position approximately," he explained. "We're -about three miles from the frontier. Now here's the Bhura River, which -serves as the dividing line between the two countries. Five miles up -the river, a small tributary branches off from the Bhura into Ironian -territory, but if you cross the Bhura just above the point where the -tributary stream starts you find yourself in Russia; and the tributary -itself flows between Russia and Ironia. An Ironian regiment, which has -been stationed on the frontier, is now camped close to the junction -point. - -"The plan is simplicity itself. The Austrians march until they reach -this junction of the two streams. Then they signal to the Ironians, -who are officered by men in Miridoff's pay. A joint raid across the -river into Russian territory follows, with the burning of a village or -two. The Russian troops will soon drive the raiders back, of course, -but the mischief will be done. Ironia will have committed an open act -of war against Russia." - -"A diabolically clever scheme," exclaimed Fenton. "Not even the death -of Miridoff can stop it. Certainly we can do nothing now." - -"Can't we?" cried Crane triumphantly. "By the roaring bull of Bashan, -we can stop it! I have a plan that will just reverse things -completely. Look at this map again! Two miles west of the first -tributary there is another stream branching off the Bhura in the same -direction as that higher up the river. If the Austrians in the -darkness were to mistake this stream for the one higher up they would -cross the Bhura there and so get into Ironian territory instead of -Russian! Now, just supposing that they made this mistake, they would -run right into an Ironian hamlet consisting of a church and a dozen -houses or so. In accordance with instructions they would proceed to -set fire to this, with the idea that it was a Russian village. -Ironians, conveniently stationed there for the purpose--under our -friend Larescu--would promptly attack the invaders and drive them back -across the river. The same result follows as is expected if the plan -of Miridoff is carried out, except that the position of the countries -will be reversed. Austria will have committed an open act of war -against Ironia. It will act like a spark on dry tinder. Ironia will -blaze up and war will follow immediately!" - -"That is all very plausible," said Fenton, "but the possibility of the -Austrians crossing at the wrong stream is negligible. Their plans will -be too carefully laid for any miscarriage." - -"They will cross at the wrong place!" declared Crane triumphantly. -"The wireless message that first came through was from the officer in -command of the Austrians. He's new to this part of the country, and, -as the Bhura is starting to flood, he wanted Miridoff to send someone -over to guide him to the best junction-point with the Ironian troops. -I wired back that one Neviloff was leaving at once for the purpose. -Well, what with the darkness of the night, the floods and the -similarity of the two streams, Neviloff will see that they get over the -wrong one." - -"Neviloff?" The question came from Fenton and Anna simultaneously. - -"Exactly. You see, it occurred to me that Miridoff would have been -most likely to send a man he could rely on for a mission of this kind, -and the name is probably familiar to the Austrians." - -"Do you mean that you intend to go yourself?" asked Fenton in surprise. - -Crane nodded. "I speak both German and Ironian, and there ought to be -a suitable uniform around this place somewhere. Well, I ride over to -Tisza," he indicated a point on the map just across the border, "and -report to the Austrian commander there. Luckily I've been all along -the Bhura on a surveying trip. What would be easier on such a night -than to make a mistake and bring them over the river too soon--over -into Ironia, where the tribesmen of Take Larescu will be waiting to -provide a suitable welcome? The plan can't go wrong." - -"You propose to decide the fate of Ironia on a gambler's throw," said -Fenton. "It's a wonderful scheme, Crane. But, man, do you realise -what it would mean to you? You take your life in your hands. If they -find you out they'll shoot you on the spot. It will be a Hungarian -troop sent for this work, and the Magyars are a vindictive lot. But -even if you escape detection at first they would certainly suspect when -they discovered they had been led astray." - -"No danger at all," said the Englishman easily. "I've got it all -figured out, and there's not one chance in a hundred of failure. When -the fighting starts, I slip away easily enough. Now, Fenton, you get -started on your part of the undertaking, which is to have Larescu on -hand with a couple of thousand of his men to drive the Austrians back. -We'll have to take a chance on the Ironian troops not moving out. I -don't think they will. In all probability Miridoff intended to ride -over there and direct things himself. Not hearing from him, they will -wait for further orders." - -Fenton grasped Crane's hand warmly. - -"Phil, it is worth trying," he said. "If it succeeds, the credit for -deciding the final outcome of the Great War may belong to you. I wish -I could go with you." - -"When Mr Crane returns I shall tell him how wonderful it is I think him -to be," said Anna, shaking his hand in turn. - -"I'm coming back right enough," replied Crane, with a steady regard, -and retaining her hand the while. "And when I do, I shall have -something myself to say to you." - -Half an hour later, warmly cloaked, and booted and spurred, Crane rode -down the mountain-side toward the Bhura River. Looking back he could -see a beacon light burning brightly on one of the highest peaks, and he -knew that Larescu was gathering his band for the night's work. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - -PLANNING A FUTURE - -As the hours passed the hill country awoke to restless activity. On -several prominent peaks the beacon fires blazed, summoning the -followers of Take Larescu. From all sides they began to troop in, -silent, grotesque, armed to the teeth. The glen, along the ridge of -which Fenton had carried his bride earlier that night, was soon crowded -with the hill men. By midnight more than a thousand had assembled, and -from all directions they were still coming at the urgent summons of the -flaring beacons. - -Take Larescu took charge of the situation and skilfully wrought order -out of chaos. He organised his followers into detachments, and to each -allotted positions along the stretch of foot-hills where the Austrians -would be awaited. On receiving their instructions from the gigantic -master of ceremonies, the detachments moved off into the enshrouding -darkness as silently as they had come. The oddly garbed figures coming -and going in the flickering light of torches, the war-like gestures, -made the whole proceedings seem a phantasm of the imagination, a wild, -strange dream. - -Fenton, wearing the military cloak of Miridoff, watched proceedings -from a vantage point in the rear. He had early found that Take Larescu -was master of the situation, and had discreetly withdrawn into the -background. Larescu had fought through several campaigns, and had -gained a reputation as the Napoleon of mountain warfare. He could be -counted upon to give the Austrians a warm reception. - -A light touch on the Canadian's arm caused him to turn. Olga had come -quietly behind him. She was muffled snugly and warmly in a heavy cloak -with a hood, so that Fenton could discern little else but a pair of -glowing eyes. - -"We have much to talk about, my lord," she said happily, placing an arm -through his. "Could you not give me a few minutes now?" - -"I am at your service for eternity," he replied. "There is nothing for -me to do here in any case. Larescu has taken everything into his own -hands." - -The night air was cold. Fenton guided his wife up a steep and rocky -path that led to the foot of the beacon light, in which the fire was -now dying down. At the foot was a smooth rock of some size, and here -they seated themselves. Fenton's arm found its way protectingly around -the slender form of his princess-bride, and the lovely hooded head -nestled back against his shoulder. - -"I have won you after all!" exclaimed the Canadian exultingly. "It is -hard to realise that you are really my wife--and yet I felt right from -the first that nothing could keep us apart. We were intended for each -other, even if half the globe did separate us." - -"One can see the hand of Fate in it all," whispered Olga. "I think it -must have all been planned by One Who is mightier than we are. For you -see I had made up my mind to give you up. Nothing could have induced -me to marry you, dear, of my own free will." - -"Olga!" cried Fenton indignantly. "Then you don't love me after all? -If you really loved me, nothing could have kept you from me in the end." - -"Yes, dear boy, I loved you--from the first, I think," she replied, -looking up. - -Seating directly beneath the beacon, they were partly in the shade, and -Fenton could not see her very clearly, but he discerned enough of the -loving message in her eyes to bring about an extended interruption of -the conversation. - -"That will do, Donald," she said finally. Then she laughed--the happy, -light laugh of one who loves and is loved, which begins without cause -and ends as suddenly as it begins. "It is the first time I have said -your funny name, husband mine. Did I say it right?" - -"I hope I never hear anyone else uttering the name," said Fenton -ecstatically. "After hearing it on your lips it would seem profanation -from any other source." - -"It is rather a nice name, although it seemed so strange at first," she -said judicially, as she repeated it over several times almost in a -whisper. "I used to wonder if I could ever come to call you that." - -"Now you've given yourself away," cried Fenton triumphantly. "If you -wondered that, you couldn't have made up your mind that you would give -me up." - -"I have indulged much in day dreams since I met you, dear," she said, -"but--it would have made no difference. My father would never have -consented to my marrying you, not even if you had saved his life many -times and had been a thousand times too good for an ignorant little -Ironian princess--as you are. And I would never have disobeyed him. -You do not understand us, my own. We Ironians are bound by custom, by -traditions of which you have no conception in your free country. It -would have broken my heart, but--I would have remained Princess Olga -all my life." - -Fenton was silent, pondering this thought, terrifying to him even in -negative perspective. - -"But I am now quite free in my conscience," she went on. "I thought to -save my father's life by marrying the man I feared, and the good Father -of all gave me instead the man I loved. It must have been Mis will -that I should come to you. And so I look forward to the future before -us with no misgivings, dark though it may be at times. And I am so -happy." - -There was another and longer interruption. The suggestion of future -troubles contained in her words was welcome to Fenton, for it promised -an opportunity to protect her, to assert his right and power to shield -her. His arm about her tightened almost fiercely. - -"I begin to see that after all I owe a lot to Miridoff," he said. - -"You will have to take me away from Ironia," said Olga, a little out of -breath from the ardour of her husband's embrace. "I could never go -back to court. My father will refuse to forgive me at first, and will -perhaps talk of having our marriage set aside. But in time he will -perhaps learn to forgive his wayward girl." She paused for a moment. - -"You see what you have done," she went on with a gaiety that did not -entirely mask the strain of sadness beneath. "Tell me, my lord and -master, what you are going to do with me now? I begin a new life with -you." - -"The future will be in your hands as much as in mine," replied Fenton. -"When the war is over we shall travel all over the world. Then will -come the question of settling down, of building a permanent nest. I -hope when the time comes you will have found no place more to your -liking than my own country." - -"I would go anywhere with you," she said confidently. "I have made up -my mind on one thing, never to let you out of my sight. If you go -where the fighting is to-night I go too." - -"That you do not," said Fenton, laughing with cool masculine -assumption. "Darling, I am going to take you back at once to the -lodge, and you must go right to bed and to sleep. You need rest. And -in the morning I shall bring you news of the repulse of the invaders." - -"No," said Olga determinedly, "I could not sleep. I must go with you. -There will be no danger. There are many women down there in the glen. -And, see--I came prepared. I shall be quite safe with you in this -costume." - -She threw back her cloak and stood revealed in the dress of a woman of -the hills. She made a pretty gipsy figure in her bright-coloured garb. -Fenton took her face in both his hands and shook his head at her -adoringly, submissively. - -"You shall have your own way," he said, "in this and, I am afraid, in -most things. I begin to realise how well fitted you are for the new -world, where women have found the way to get everything they want." - -They returned slowly to the glen below, and Larescu greeted Fenton with -a roar of exultation. - -"They come!" he cried. "One of my men has brought the word. The -Austrians are crossing the river!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - -IRONIA INVADED - -The Austrian cavalry regiment, which had ridden out of Tisza shortly -before midnight, with Crane in the van, struck the Bhura River a mile -below the point where the first tributary branched off. The night was -so dark that it was impossible to see very far ahead even with the -assistance of the torches that a few of the troopers had attached to -the ends of their lances. The roads were so muddy that but slow -progress was made. Evidences of the floods farther up the river had -already been encountered at points where the road ran close to the -river banks. - -Crane reined in his horse and turned to the officer who rode beside him. - -"A small stream runs south from the Bhura a mile ahead and it is there -we should cross," he said in German, "but I am doubtful if it will be -possible to get over. See, the water is rising higher all the time. -There is a bridge not a hundred yards ahead of us--unless the rising -water has already swept it away. I propose that we cross there. It -may be impossible higher up." - -"It is well advised what you suggest," replied the officer. "I am -worried, however, about the possibilities of the return trip. Suppose -the floods rise so rapidly that it will be impossible to recross the -river? We should be trapped on Russian soil!" - -Crane shrugged his shoulders. - -"Our orders cover only the advance," he said. "After we have carried -out that which has been entrusted to us--the return is strictly our -business. For the mission on which we are bound, it might be better if -none of us returned. Austrian and Ironian troops massacred on Russian -soil would surely bring about war." - -"I don't fear to die," said the officer. "But I would prefer to fall -in open battle and not in an obscure border affray. But, as you say, -we have our orders to follow. Nothing else need count. God! it is -dark! A horrible night for our purpose, Neviloff!" - -"An admirable night," said Crane. "We can carry out our raid under the -cover of this darkness and get safely back across the border without -loss. If the floods let us, that is." - -"Hein! we are into the water now," ejaculated the officer, reining in -his horse. - -"The road is low here and the water has come up over it," said Crane, -peering intently ahead. "But the gods are with us. I can see the -bridge ahead; it is still holding. We had better get across while we -may." - -The troop clattered across the bridge at a smart gallop and turned up a -road on the Ironian side of the Bhura which was still quite dry. Ten -minutes brought them to the first stream. It was swollen with the -rising water, but, being only a narrow creek, was still fordable. - -"Across there is Russia," said Crane, pointing over the stream. "My -troops are crossing some miles below and will join us near the first -village. We must lose no time. Every minute now lessens our chances -of getting back over the Bhura alive." - -"It's strange," said the officer. "I didn't think we were so close to -the Russian frontier. Are there not two streams branching south from -the Bhura?" - -"Yes," replied Crane hastily, "there is another stream behind us. We -passed it some time before we reached the flooded section." - -Orders were passed along the line of troops and the work of crossing -the turgid stream began. The horses balked at the brink and had to be -beaten and spurred into the swirling flood; so that the passage of the -regiment was a noisy one with much shouting and cursing and snapping of -whips. - -On the other side the troops formed up and followed Crane along a -narrow lane that led back on a slowly ascending scale toward the -foot-hills. - -Almost before they knew it, the regiment had ridden into a small -hamlet. Darkened houses lined each side of the road, and just ahead of -them loomed the spire of a church. The noise of the galloping horses -aroused no signs of life, and this made Crane feel certain that they -had reached the appointed place. It had been arranged that Larescu was -to warn the villagers to make good their escape. - -The troops set about their work with eagerness, even with noisy gusto. -They broke in doors and windows and set fire to the houses. Soon one -end of the village was in flames, and in the bright light that suffused -the whole, the fact that the village was deserted became apparent. - -The officer in command, plainly uneasy, rode up to Crane, who had kept -in the van with his eyes open for a chance to make good his escape. -The Austrian was clearly suspicious. - -"Not a soul in the place," he said. "Why not? Someone carried word of -our plans ahead of us; that must be it. What's this?" - -The rattle of musketry broke out ahead of them. Some of the men, -getting in advance of the line, had been fired on from the bush in -which the long, single street of the village terminated. As if by -magic, though no one knew whence it came, the word passed down the -ranks: "Ironian troops are firing on us." And, as a natural corollary, -the most discerning saw and voiced what had happened. - -"We have burned an Ironian village," said the officer who rode by Crane. - -The latter sensed trouble. - -"No you don't," came sharply from the Austrian, as Crane put spurs into -his horse. - -But the Englishman was putting yards and more yards between him and the -officer. He did not hesitate now. He knew that his safety depended -upon his ability to get away at once. Kicking the steel into his -horse's flanks, he started into a wild gallop. Guttural but loud -shouts behind him warned him of impending retribution--if they could -shoot straight. Instinctively he dropped flat over his horse's neck. -Shots rang out and one bullet ploughed through his hair, touching and -grazing his forehead in its passage. The blood trickled down over his -brow and filtered over his eyes. He brushed it away and found he had -not been badly hurt. But a moment later another shot apparently hit -his horse, for the animal screamed, stumbled, and lunged forward on its -knees. - -Crane hurtled over its head and came down with a thud on the rough -muddy road. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - -CRANE'S ESCAPE - -When Crane returned to consciousness he found himself lying in a -cramped and painful position on a rough clay surface. - -He fell into a violent fit of coughing. The atmosphere about him was -smoke-charged and stiflingly close and hot. A steady, crackling sound -above gradually impressed itself upon his groping mind with startling -import. He was lying under the shelter of a burning building. - -After many futile attempts, Crane managed to struggle into a sitting -position. The light from the burning roof provided sufficient -illumination to enable him to see that the hamlet was deserted and -given over to the ravages of the fire which had gained such headway -that to remain longer where he was would be fatal. The wall above him -might crumble in at any time. Breathing had become difficult and -painful. The smoke that filled his lungs shook him with rasping, -suffocating spells of coughing. Dimly he heard sounds of receding -conflict beyond the village. - -Crane struggled to his feet and lurched weakly forward, blinded with -the smoke. Next moment, overcome with the intense heat, he fainted -dead away. - -It was some time after that Crane again regained consciousness. This -time he was lying on the ground, his head reclining comfortably on a -pillow made of some folded garment. A water-soaked bandage encircled -his brow, giving inexpressible relief. He attempted to pull himself -together and sit up, but desisted from the effort with an involuntary -groan. - -"Hello, here's old Crane coming around after all," said the voice of -Fenton, somewhere close at hand. - -"Right as rain in a minute," said Crane weakly. Then, after a pause, -"Where am I?" - -"Don't know exactly myself," said Fenton. "We got you out of the -burning village just in the nick of time and carried you back into the -woods here. How are you feeling now?" - -"A little brandy would make a new man of me. Any handy?" - -A flask, containing some raw, red-hot Ironian equivalent, was produced -and a liberal measure poured down his throat. Crane coughed, -spluttered and finally sat up, little the worse for wear, but still -weak and decidedly giddy in the head. - -"What happened?" he demanded. - -"Everything went off as per schedule," said Fenton. "The Austrians -started to set fire to the village, and then Larescu and his men opened -fire on them. The invaders put up a short fight and retired with more -precipitancy than order. Last I saw of it, they were headed for the -river with the hill men in hot pursuit. If the river has continued to -rise, the Austrians will have some difficulty in getting back to their -own side. I didn't join in the chase as I was getting anxious about -you. Luckily, Mademoiselle Petrowa found you and managed to drag you -out of the road just before the front of a burning hut collapsed on -you." - -"Mademoiselle Petrowa! Now what, on the word of a bald-headed friar, -was she doing there?" exclaimed Crane. - -A soft voice, proceeding from some point close behind him, spoke up. - -"It is indeed the great pleasure that Mistaire Crane has recovered. -One judges from his choice of words that he is feeling much the better." - -"I have a double duty to perform then--to thank you for saving my life -and to lecture you for your folly in being where you could do it," said -Crane, with a return of his habitual manner. - -"My good friend, the brave Mistaire Crane will please forget the thanks -and save the lectures until he is stronger," insisted Anna. "If I have -been foolish, it has been in the best company. Her highness was -helping in the search for you." - -"Yes, they both insisted on coming along," put in Fenton. "I had the -greatest difficulty in keeping them off the firing-line. If all the -women of Ironia are as fiery as the pair I've had on my hands to-night, -I shall feel the deepest compassion for any army that attempts the -invasion of the country!" - -"I'll never forgive myself for this night's work," said Crane -dejectedly. "I bungled things badly in not getting away in time. Then -Mademoiselle has to risk her very valuable life to save my very -worthless one----" - -It was still dark. A soft hand from somewhere was slipped confidingly -into his. Crane did not finish the sentence. - -A moment later a gipsy-clad girl, who had been sitting silently by -during the dialogue, rose unobtrusively and led Fenton away. - -"I am glad," whispered the princess. "I don't mind confessing now that -I have been very jealous of your Mademoiselle Petrowa." - - * * * * * - -With the first light of dawn came Take Larescu, an unsheathed sword in -his hand. The gigantic leader of the hill men was mud-stained and -dishevelled, but thoroughly well pleased with himself. - -"Not an Austrian remains on the sacred soil of our Ironia," he -declared, mopping his brow with a bright silk handkerchief, drawn from -his belt, "except a hundred or so who will never go back. And more -good news for you, my young friend. A party of my men have burned -Kirkalisse to the ground. Everything comes to him who strikes while -the iron is hot." - -For a moment Fenton said nothing. Then: "Kirkalisse burnt. Miridoff -dead. Austrian invasion of Ironian soil. Ironian rout of the -Austrians. This is news. It must be got to Serajoz, and that at once." - -"As to the raid of the Austrians," replied the brigand chief, "I have -already arranged that part of it. Messengers have been sent east, west -and south. All Ironia will know within the next twenty-four hours that -our country has been invaded, and that means----" - -"That war is certain," Fenton finished the sentence spiritedly. - -Neither spoke for a second. Then the hill leader drew Fenton closer -and whispered to him: "We captured several of Miridoff's men at -Kirkalisse." - -"Yes. What did you find out?" - -"They told us all they knew. One of them was the young gipsy who had -been sent with a token--the princess's ring, was it not?--which, as I -was able to understand it, was to stop a proposed assassination of -Prince Peter. But he had not been able to find his man, to warn him." - -Fenton started. In a moment he visualised all that this item of news -meant. Was, then, Miridoff's death of no avail? - -"Do you mean, then," he asked, "that the assassin has done his work?" - -"No. Prince Peter, it appears, changed his plans and returned to -Serajoz by another route." - -"Thank God! Then everything will be all right." - -"I don't know," said Larescu, shaking his shaggy head. "The assassin -has followed him on the road. But I think the prince had start enough, -from what I hear, to get to Serajoz a good few hours before the -assassin could come up with him. Nevertheless, someone should go to -the capital immediately." - -"Yes, you are right," broke in the Canadian. "I shall go myself. Find -me a guide back through the mountains." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV - -THE NEW KING - -King Alexander of Ironia stood in an embrasure of the royal council -room. He appeared to be gazing over the crowded, turbulent Lodz, but -in reality he saw nothing; nor did the wild clamour that rose from the -mob-ridden square in front of the palace reach his ears. The King -stared into space while angry emotions ran riot in his mind. Adamant -determination, black anger and futile longing for strength to combat -his aroused subjects, filled the brain of the baffled monarch. A truly -royal figure he appeared, standing there alone by the window--arms -folded on his breast, mouth set in ominous lines, staring out into -space as silent and as motionless as bronze. - -Back in the council room a number of men were seated around a long -table, conversing in low tones and furtively regarding the solitary -figure of the monarch. - -"His Majesty will never give in," said Danilo Vanilis, the shrewdest -and strongest of the King's councillors. "I know him. He has sworn -not to fight Potsdam--and he will die rather than break his pledge." - -"But he can't resist longer," interjected another. "The Austrian -invasion has stirred the country up from one end to the other. The -army clamours for war. Officers, who have been known to favour the -Austrian cause, have been forcibly ejected. There is not a man left in -Ironia to back the King. He must give in." - -"Look at him," said Vanilis. "There he stands, like a lion at bay; see -the poise of his head, the set of the lips, the brooding light in the -eyes. Alexander would stand fast if the whole world took sides against -him; he would fight single-handed against the hosts of the Archangel. -It is as pitiable as it is strange that such determination, such grand -devotion, should have found its vent only in upholding a tradition!" - -"Still more strange that the Austrians should have committed this open -act of war," whispered a third. "It was rumoured that Miridoff had a -carefully concocted scheme that would inevitably result in plunging us -into war with the Russians. Then, like a bolt from the blue, comes -this mad exploit of the Austrians. And, strangest of all, Miridoff -himself has disappeared." - -"It can only be understood when it is explained that it occurred in the -mountains," said a fourth. "Anything can happen there. Take Larescu -led the force which drove the Austrians back over the Bhura. Mark my -word, Larescu is at the bottom of this. And, what is more, I am -convinced that Miridoff has been killed." - -"And not too soon!" A murmured chorus of assent ran around the board. -Vanilis, after a pause, went on, speaking in a low tone: "It is strange -that Peter has not returned. He was to have been with us. You all -heard the rumour that an attempt would be made to assassinate him on -his way back. It cannot be that----" - -He paused. There was no need to finish the sentence, for the faces of -all the company advertised the fact that the same fear had entered the -mind of each man there. It was a disquieting thought; for all men -recognised now that the strong hand of Prince Peter was needed at the -helm. - -"Gentlemen!" - -The King had faced about. Slowly, with white, set face and dignified -stride, His Majesty walked back to the head of the table. He glanced -coldly about the board. - -"You have demanded that we sign this monstrous paper," he said, his -voice hard. "An ungrateful country clamours for war. Our word has -been pledged that Ironia shall not join in the war against the German -empires. That word must stand. Sirs, we refuse absolutely to sign -this iniquitous declaration!" - -"Recollect what this refusal means, sire," urged Vanilis. "The army is -determined. Even the household guards have joined in the clamour. -Sire, your life might even be placed in jeopardy?" - -"Our life is of no value beside our honour," said Alexander, with -dignified scorn. He reached into the breast of his uniform and drew -out a document, which he threw, almost contemptuously, on the table -before him. "There is our answer. The hand of Alexander will never -sign the order that declares this war. But, sirs, if on war you are -bent, war you shall have. We gladly lay down the distasteful task of -ruling a nation of ingrates." - -The men round the table sat silent. But each of them knew that the -paper was the King's abdication! - -As he turned the sound of sudden tumultuous cheering came up to them -from the streets below. It was almost as though the news of the -stubborn King's dramatic exit had been translated by some speedy -telepathy to the eager crowds without. Alexander frowned bitterly and -turned back to the silent company about the council table. - -"They cheer now," he said grimly. "What will they do after your mad -determination and their lust has flooded the country in blood--and -German Uhlans ride down the Lodz? Sirs, I have warned you. The ruin -of Ironia be on your heads!" - -"We do not fear that!" cried Vanilis. "We fight for the provinces that -were stolen from us, and God will be with us." - -Alexander did not reply. He walked slowly from the room, head held -proudly high, one hand clenched across his breast, the other pressed -tightly on his sword hilt. - -"The King is dead," uttered one of the men, almost with awe. "Long -live the----" - -"Long live King Peter!" cried another, with enthusiasm. - -For a door at the other end of the hall had opened to admit the prince. -His sudden arrival was the cause, obviously, of the clamour that had -broken out in the square below. Prince Peter was flushed with rapid -riding and spattered with mud. It was clear that he had ridden far and -fast to attend this momentous conference. - -"Gentlemen, it is war!" he cried, with high enthusiasm. "The country -through which I have come is literally ablaze. Nothing can hold us -back now. Austria has struck the first blow. And I bring you news. -The Russian armies move on Mulkovina to-morrow. Ironia must declare -herself to-day." - -Danilo Vanilis, sitting at the end of the table, rose and held a paper -out toward him. - -"All that is needed is the signature of His Majesty the King. Sign, -sire!" - -Peter gazed at the other for a moment, growing wonderment on his face. -Then he glanced quickly around the crowded board. - -"Alexander abdicated five minutes ago. King Peter now rules in -Ironia," announced Vanilis with a low bow. - -Peter was a man of quick comprehension and decision. He grasped the -pen. - -"That king is fortunate," he declared, "whose first duty is to fight a -cause so dear to the hearts of the people over whom he has been called -to rule! To-night, sirs, we leave for the front!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXV - -THE ASSASSINATION - -Events moved fast in Ironia. At five o'clock Peter was publicly -declared King, the announcement being received with manifestations of -the wildest joy in Serajoz. At five-thirty an official statement of -Ironia's intentions was communicated to the Ambassadors of Austria, -Germany and Turkey, and their passports were handed to them. At six -o'clock the first regiment marched out of the capital for the front, -through streets lined with deliriously happy multitudes. - -The work of mobilisation was begun in feverish haste. King Peter spent -three hours directing the efforts of the general staff and in -conference with the leading bankers. As he worked, however, the new -monarch never for a moment lost sight of the grim spectre that had -haunted him for two days. Varden had brought him word of the abduction -of Olga just as he was preparing for his trip to the frontier. Since -then he had heard no news of her. - -A Spartan in everything else, Peter had been the most loving and -indulgent of fathers. Olga, left an orphan when less than a year old, -had soon gained complete possession of her father's heart. He had -pampered and petted her in quite as complete a degree as any fond -parent that ever ruined a child in sheer blindness of affection; but -Olga, having one of those rare natures that cannot be spoiled, even by -parental indulgence, had developed greater stores of sweetness and -grace in the strong light of her father's love. It can be surmised, -therefore, that when the news of the abduction of the princess had -reached him he had been thrown into a ferment of fear; but, knowing how -much the welfare of Ironia depended upon him, Peter had delayed his -departure only long enough to issue instructions for the pursuit of her -abductors. - -The news awaiting him on his return had been disquieting. No direct -clue as to her whereabouts had been found, although there was plenty of -evidence to show that the abduction had been the work of brigands from -the hills. It was with a heavy heart, therefore, that Peter applied -himself to the multitudinous duties devolving upon him with his sudden -accession to the throne of Ironia on the eve of her entry into the war. - -Outside the demonstration continued, growing in enthusiasm as hour -succeeded hour. Military headquarters were besieged by men begging for -an opportunity to enlist. A statue in the square before the royal -palace, representing the lost provinces, was literally covered with -flowers. The public streets were rendered quite impassable by the -masses of exuberant citizens who loudly acclaimed the new King, and -clamoured for a sight of him. - -About the time that His Majesty rose from the desk to which he had been -chained for three hours of unremitting activity, Fenton, weary and -dust-laden, astride a foam-flecked horse, turned into the north end of -the Lodz. On receiving the startling intelligence that the human -instrument of Miridoff's foul purpose had followed Prince Peter to the -capital, intent on carrying out his work, Fenton had at once secured a -guide from Larescu and had negotiated a difficult short cut through the -mountain country. Arriving at the base of the chain of hills in the -early forenoon, he had procured a horse. An all-day gallop with one -change of mount in the late afternoon, brought him to the city about -nine o'clock, in a condition bordering on total collapse. Since his -arrival in Ironia, Fenton had found little opportunity for sleep, and -his exploits had been as varied as they were arduous. By sheer force -of will only was he able to maintain his seat in the saddle. - -The presence of dense crowds in the Lodz did not surprise him; all the -way down from the hill country he had found increasing evidences of -excitement which satisfied him that Crane's spectacular coup had -finally brought Ironia into the war. - -As the density of the crowd grew he was forced to abandon his mount and -continue forward toward the palace of the prince on foot. It became -very slow work, until finally Fenton's patience gave way. Fearing that -every moment lost might cost the prince his life, Fenton broke -recklessly through the crush which inevitably brought him into conflict -in a crowd where the fighting spirit ran so high. As he crossed the -square in front of the King's palace a much excited and picturesquely -ragged man blocked his way determinedly. Fenton roughly elbowed him -aside and received in reprisal a blow in the face. His assailant -poured out a volume of abuse in French, which caused the Canadian to -turn and regard him curiously. To his delight Fenton recognised his -acquaintance of the Greek restaurant, Monsieur Francois Dubois. - -"Dubois, by all that's holy!" he cried. "It's lucky I can claim a -prior acquaintance, otherwise I fear you would be inclined to show me -no mercy. You have plenty of strength left in that arm of yours, my -friend." - -"Monsieur Fenton," cried the Frenchman. "Ah, my young friend, forgive -me. I have strength left, yes--strength to shoulder a rifle, monsieur. -To-morrow I enlist for the service." - -"I am just back from the hill country," said Fenton. "What is the -news? Has war been declared yet?" - -"War was declared by our good King Peter within an hour of his -accession to the throne," cried the Frenchman. - -"King Peter!" exclaimed Fenton, surveying Monsieur Dubois as though he -feared the Frenchman had been suddenly bereft of his senses. - -"It was just as I told you, monsieur. Alexander would not give in. -When he found that war could no longer be staved off he abdicated, and -Peter became King." - -"Then I must lose no time," cried Fenton. "It is doubly important that -I get to him at once. I have news of a plot against his life." - -He plunged with reckless haste through the crowds, opening an avenue by -sheer force, and thus enabling Monsieur Dubois to follow along in his -wake without difficulty. - -"Make way! In the name of the King!" cried the Frenchman in the native -tongue. This caused the people in front to give way. Nevertheless the -progress of the pair was intolerably slow. - -There is an emotional strain in the Ironian which manifests itself in -moments of stress and unusual excitement. When stirred by any deep -emotion he will emit strange cries and break into high-pitched -interminable chants. To the visitor this tendency is inexplicable, and -it has contributed not a little to the feeling among other races that -there is something uncanny about the men of the Balkan mountains. As -Fenton piloted Monsieur Dubois through the square this monotonous chant -arose from all sides, and, mingling with the shrill and warlike cries, -created a literal pandemonium of sound. - -As they neared the front of the palace there was a stir which indicated -that something of importance was happening. As Fenton looked the -windows opening on to a balcony to the right of the main entrance were -thrown back and two officers stepped out. The noise ceased almost -instantly, and a silence settled down over the square. Following the -two officers came Peter, in uniform and bare-headed. He stepped to the -front of the balcony, and, resting his hands on the top of the -grotesquely ornamental iron railing, swept the crowded square and the -streets beyond with a proud eye. - -His appearance was the signal for an outbreak even more vociferous than -before. Peter had always been popular with the people of Ironia, more -popular than the haughty, unbending Alexander. His advocacy of the -allied cause had cemented the affection of the populace, and now his -prompt action following his accession to the throne raised him as a -national hero even to the pinnacle of Alexander Sobiesku of revered -memory. - -The King raised his hand as a signal for silence, and again the noise -died down to the uncertain rumble of a mob at rest. Fenton, wedged in -firmly and unable to make any material progress either forward or back, -had up to this point kept his gaze fixed on the stately figure of the -King. Now his glance wandered to a burly fellow just ahead of him, a -peasant from his garb. The man attracted Fenton's attention in some -inexplicable way, and as the Canadian watched he perceived something -which caused him to cry out in frantic tones of alarm. - -"Men of Ironia," the King began in clear tones that carried each word -distinctly to the farthest confines of the square. Then of a sudden -came the sharp crack of a revolver shot, and Peter staggered back from -the railing into the arms of the officers behind him. - -The peasant had levelled a revolver over the shoulder of the man in -front of him. Fenton, perceiving the move, had torn a path through the -press toward the assassin. His hands had closed almost on the -peasant's shoulder when the explosion broke the silence. - -"Too late! My God, to have him within my reach and not stop him," -groaned Fenton, stunned with the catastrophe that had occurred before -his very eyes. - -He reeled blindly in the rush of the enraged mob and was buffeted here -and there. The gun-man had apparently been surrounded by accomplices -and friends, for the vengeance-seeking mob was held back and hampered -in its pursuit of the daring peasant. In the darkness and confusion -the assassin disappeared, swallowed up in the agitated sea of humanity. -Two days later he was given up and summarily shot; but, having no -foreknowledge of this, the crowd, balked of their prey and frantic with -anxiety for the wounded monarch, descended to depths of vengeful, -berserk fury that could vent itself only in indiscriminate conflict. -Friend fought friend, blows were struck with savage hate, blood flowed -freely. - -Fenton found himself propelled out of the now almost bestial crowd to a -side street where comparative calm reigned. Monsieur Dubois, guessing -how near to the point of total collapse his companion was, hurried -Fenton to the nearest open shop and there procured a brimming beaker of -strong liquor. After drinking the restorative Fenton felt a measure of -his strength return. - -"Another moment and Monsieur Fenton would have been under the feet of -the mob," said the Frenchman. "They are wild for blood back there! -Hearken to their cries! If the King dies, not an Austrian will be left -alive in this city by break of day." - -"If he dies!" echoed Fenton in an agony of remorse. "To think that I -arrived just too late. If he dies I shall feel as guilty as the wretch -who fired the shot!" - -"He cannot--he must not die!" cried Dubois. "Ironia needs the strong -hand of her King now. God will not take him away when he has but -placed his hand to the plough." - - * * * * * - -Back in the palace two physicians were bending over the prostrate -figure of the wounded King with significant silence. - -"He still lives," said one finally, "but----" - -And the other nodded with grim acquiescence. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI - -THE DEATH OF THE KING - -It was noon when Fenton awoke the next day. He awoke to a sense of -unfamiliar surroundings. Above him was a ceiling of dingy, brownish -hue. The walls, he discovered on investigation, were similar to the -ceiling and unadorned save for a few dusty old French prints. The bed -on which he lay was hard and lumpy, the coverlet ancient and thin. -There was a faint mustiness observable in the atmosphere and through a -half-closed door came the sound of a bow softly scraping the strings of -a decrepit violin. Fenton sat bolt upright in bed and examined his -surroundings with much surprise and, truth to tell, a little alarm. - -The fact that he was awake was thus communicated to the musician in the -other room; for a shuffling step crossed the floor and the head of -Monsieur Dubois was poked inquiringly through the door. - -"Now I understand," said Fenton, putting one leg out of the bed, and -groaning with the effort--for a full day in the saddle will leave its -effects on the most experienced horseman. - -"Monsieur is surprised," said the old Frenchman, coming into the room -with his violin in one hand--a rather crazy, poverty-stricken kind of -violin--and the bow in the other. "It was this way. Monsieur Fenton -was quite so fatigued that he fell sound asleep in the café and nothing -could arouse him. Luckily my lodgings were close by and, with the help -of a stout young fellow, who will return to-day for some compensation, -which I had to promise, not having anything by me"--this -apologetically--"we managed to get monsieur here and to bed. I trust -that monsieur is feeling much better?" - -Fenton was already out of bed and in the middle of his toilet. He -dressed hurriedly, albeit stiffly. - -"What news is there?" he asked gravely. "What of the King?" - -An expression of sadness came into the fine eyes of the old exile. - -"It is indeed the great catastrophe, monsieur," he said. "The King is -dying. I have just come from the palace where the official bulletins -are published. He has not recovered consciousness. The physicians -hold out no hope." - -Fenton's worst fears were realised. It was some minutes before he -could recover sufficient composure to go on. - -"Has the assassin been caught?" he asked. - -Monsieur Dubois shook his head. Then lines of anger and determination -showed around his eyes and mouth. He elevated one arm and shook the -bow menacingly. "The arch assassin, he shall pay for this!" he -exclaimed. "It is told everywhere on the streets that it was Miridoff -who planned the murder of the King--the strong King who was needed to -lead Ironia to victory. Ironia has a heavy score to settle with -Miridoff." - -"Miridoff is dead," said Fenton. - -"How do you know?" demanded the musician eagerly. "There is nothing -known of the Grand Duke's whereabouts. Serajoz is full of the mystery." - -"He is dead beyond all doubt," declared the Canadian. "I killed him -myself." - -Followed a brief recital of some of the principal events in the -mountains which had led up to the capture of the hunting lodge, and the -release of the princess. Monsieur Dubois could hardly restrain -himself. At the conclusion of the narrative he seized Fenton by both -hands and poured out a volley of incoherent praise. - -"My young friend has had a most great honour," he wound up by saying. -"It has fallen to his lot to rescue the Queen of Ironia. What honours -shall be heaped upon him!" - -"What do you mean?" demanded Fenton, almost roughly. - -"If Peter dies the throne will pass to the Princess Olga," explained -the other. "She is the last of the line. Alexander is childless, and -the princess is the only child of Peter. There is no one to dispute -the throne with our beautiful Olga, who, it is said, is just as good as -she is beautiful." - -Fenton, who had suddenly sought a seat, did not say anything. - -The musician rambled on: - -"And a great heritage she will come into, this Queen Olga." The old -Frenchman, fond as he was of the country from which he was an exile, -had a very real regard for the welfare of the little land where he had -lived so long. "When the war is over," his voice droned on, "Ironia -will have added again the two provinces, Serania and Mulkovina. And I -shall throw up my hat nearly as joyfully for that as I shall for the -return into the victorious borders of La Belle France of -Alsace-Lorraine." This last appeared to overcome him for a moment, and -he paused before starting again. - -"Ironia will then have a population of ten million, Monsieur Fenton. -Think of that. She will become a power in Europe on a scale long -looked forward to by her rulers. Then the young Queen will have a -great country to reign over." - -Fenton raised his head and clutched at a figurative straw. "But can a -woman occupy the throne of Ironia?" - -"But certainly. She will marry, of course. Indeed, even now they are -saying on the street that a match will be made for our Queen with a -prince of Serbia. It would be a fine stroke." The Frenchman mooned on -while Fenton sat dumbfounded. This old man was calmly and unwittingly -puncturing the bubbles of happiness that had engrossed the Canadian's -attention since the romantic episode of the hills. "It would cement -once again the Balkan confederacy. Some of the glory of the past would -be theirs, and more glory than the past ever knew." - -"Supposing the princess were already married, though?" said Fenton -slowly and in a strained tone. - -"Eh?" The old Frenchman opened his eyes sharply. "A--what you -call--morganatic marriage?" - -"No," said the other impatiently. "Supposing that the princess, not -expecting to be Queen of Ironia, had married someone quietly--not -expecting to be Queen," he repeated, as if to urge to himself and the -old man every possible means of exit from this _cul-de-sac_ that, for -the first time, he realised he had landed in. "What then?" - -"It would make no difference." Monsieur Dubois shook his head -decidedly. "It would be set aside, my young friend. Nothing can be -allowed to stand in the way of matters of State." - -Fenton was silent for a moment. Then he stood up and straightened his -shoulders. He felt as if he must be alone at once. "Monsieur Dubois," -he said, "you have spoken to me about the one aim you have--to get back -to France. You have been very kind to me. Will you permit me to -reciprocate ever so little and advance the necessary means?" - -The old man shook his head and smiled. "They may not take me back in -La Belle France. I am an old man. But here, young and old, all will -get a chance. I shall stay, monsieur." - -He too rose and squared his shoulders. His frame was a little bent, -his hands trembled, but there was a look of profound determination and -of profounder pride in his eyes as he shook back his tousled grey hair. -"Maybe we shall meet at the front, Monsieur Fenton," he said. - -They did. It was two months afterward in a field hospital along the -frontier. A shell had shattered the musician's leg. He did not -recognise Fenton, and babbled incoherently of France and freedom. - - * * * * * - -Leaving the lodgings of Monsieur Dubois, Fenton hurried to the palace. -Varden, he felt sure, would be there. - -The streets were strangely different from what he had known them when, -barely a week before, he had arrived in Serajoz fur the first time. -The city seemed to be one gigantic military camp. Troops passed and -repassed. The rumble of artillery was a familiar sound, and occasioned -little specific interest. The crowds were smaller already. Thousands -of men had enlisted. They had been talking about war for months. They -were prepared. - -Fenton found Varden at the palace. The latter was coming down the -corridor which led from the personal suite of the King. Silently -Varden gripped the hand of the Canadian, and for a moment did not -speak. Then, "Peter is dead," he said in a low tone. - -Fenton asked the question very quietly: "When?" - -"He died a few minutes ago," returned the other. "Come." - -Varden turned and led the way down the corridor through knots of -officials, and through the antechamber where stood a few chosen friends -and councillors, conversing in low tones, to a small detached office. - -They sat down. - -"Don," said Varden, "you've done wonderful work. I've heard all about -it. The princess arrived this morning with Mademoiselle Petrowa and -that strange fellow Crane you picked up _en route_. He's a queer fish, -but I like him. I haven't had a chance to see the princess, but the -others are full of your exploits." - -"The princess will be Queen now?" Fenton tried to keep his voice calm, -but his mind was in a turmoil. - -"Yes. I'm afraid this cooks your goose, old chap," said Varden easily. -"She's bound to have some princeling or other for a husband now. In -fact, a match is already spoken of." - -Fenton nodded. Varden's remarks had convinced him on one score. Anna -and Crane had said nothing about the ceremony over the tongs. Fenton -stood up, restraint and determination mingling in his bearing. "It's -quite impossible, I suppose, for me to see--Her Majesty"--his voice -trembled slightly, then grew quite firm again. "Percy," he said, "you -can fix me up with a post in the army? I want to be right up at the -front." - -Varden nodded without any particular enthusiasm. - -"Wish I could go too," he said. "I'll get there, of course, as soon as -the matter of the Queen's accession is settled. Until then I feel it -my duty to stay here and watch things. And that means I'll miss the -opening of the campaign." - -"Is there any doubt," asked Fenton slowly, "as to the accession of Olga -to the throne?" - -"No," replied Varden. "But these are parlous times, Don. The new -ruler is a woman, and there are some ambitious men at the head of the -state at present. I have no doubt that Danilo Vanilis would not -scruple to sweep her aside and seize the vacant throne himself if it -were not for the fact that there are several others quite as ambitious -and almost as powerful as himself who wouldn't stand by. Dynasties are -unstable things in the Balkans, Don. Still, I am counting on the -mutual jealousy of the leaders to provide the means for Olga to step -quietly into her rights." - -Fenton straightened up. In the face of this hint of a possible plot -against the woman he loved, all mental uncertainty vanished. - -"Is there anything I can do?" he asked. "Nothing must stand between -the princess and her rights. If money would be any inducement to quiet -these trouble-makers, I'm willing to contribute all that I have." - -"Quite unnecessary, Mr Quixote," said Varden. "There is a powerful -faction to watch the interests of our little Olga. Never fear, she -shall be Queen of Ironia." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII - -A LETTER OF FAREWELL - -Fenton sat on a camp stool beneath the sloping sides of a canvas tent. -Gusts of wind found their way inside, causing the candle that stood on -a small table beside him to flicker uncertainly. Outside could be -heard the even tramp of a sentry, and at rare intervals the thud of -horses' hoofs. From a distance came the steady rumble that told of -transport wagons on the move. Fenton wore the uniform of a cavalry -officer. - -Two days had passed since the death of King Peter, interminable days of -torture and mental travail to the young Canadian. From the moment that -Varden had spoken the fateful words, "Peter is dead," Fenton had in a -vague way realised the duty that lay before him; although it was only -after a long struggle with the promptings of his love that he had bowed -to the inevitable. Olga was now Queen of Ironia. A great and shining -future was before her. An empire lay within her grasp. What part -could he, an alien and a commoner, expect to play in that future? -True, she had married him, but when matters of state were hanging in -the balance, a gipsy marriage over the tongs would be counted of little -consequence. It could easily be set aside. In any case, who were -there who knew of that romance of the hills? Anna Petrowa and Crane -shared the secret with himself and Olga--no one else--and they would -say no word. - -He must go away. If it were deemed necessary to resort to the church -for a proper dissolution of the bonds, he would render every assistance -in his power. But this perhaps would not be necessary--for he was -going to the front, a soldier of Her Serene Majesty, Queen Olga. That -there was no other course open to him was quite clear. His presence -would distress her, render the part she had to play more difficult for -her. To save her the painful task of breaking off the relationship -between them, he must go. - -The two days had been busy ones, which was fortunate, for his mind had -been kept occupied. He had been given a post in a cavalry brigade. -With an almost savage absorption he had plunged into the stern duty of -fitting himself for the work at the front. With grim but keen -anticipation he had practised with the finely balanced sabre and the -brace of revolvers that constituted his implements of warfare. No -trooper rides in the charge with more reckless daring and insatiable -determination than the man whose heart is filled with a tragedy of -love. Fenton would undoubtedly prove a first-class fighting man. - -That day at noon he had seen Phil Crane off with the artillery. The -voluble Englishman had some knowledge of guns, and nothing would -satisfy him but a post with the very first batteries that lumbered off -for the front. Accordingly, being a most arrogant fellow, as has -perhaps already been demonstrated, Crane had bluntly informed Anna of -his intention of marrying her before leaving, and had then dragged her -off to a church; the little dancer, truth to tell, being quite willing, -under a pretence of reluctance. Fenton had witnessed the ceremony. He -had again impressed upon them both the necessity for silence on the -score of what had happened at the Hawk's Rest, and then had ridden back -to the camp, which had been established outside Serajoz, with a -careless: "I'll see you up at the front, Phil." - -In the dim and guttering light of the candle, Fenton was writing. With -many long and painful pauses he worked, until finally the letter lay -before him completed. He read it over to himself again, considering -each word and phrase: - - -"MY DEAREST,--I am addressing you as my heart dictates for the last -time. For this I humbly crave your forgiveness. Perhaps, as this is -the last message that can pass between us, you will condone my offence. -I leave to-morrow for the front. We shall never see each other again. - -"There is so much for you to forgive. My failure to save your father -has weighed heavily upon me, and I realise how deeply you must feel the -consequences. I tried my best--and, in the light of subsequent events, -it has seemed to me that the hand of Fate intervened. It was God's -will that you should rule over Ironia. - -"A throne now separates us, and, my dearest wife (I cannot help so -calling you), I realise fully what must be done. I bow to the -inevitable. If the difficulties of your position in view of what -transpired in the hills, have added to the measure of your sorrow, I -want to give you complete assurance on the score of my acceptance of -the part that has devolved upon me. If legal proceedings are -necessary, I shall lend every assistance. But I do not think it will -come to that. Heavy fighting is ahead of us, and I may be fortunate---- - -"I cannot find words to express the depth of my love for you. My -darling! My bride! It is hard to give you up! But to have won your -love, if only to lose it, is greater fortune than I deserve. The -memory of your love will remain with me to the last. It provides me -now in the depth of my despair with a wonderful solace. I have known -greater happiness than ever before fell to the lot of man--and with -that great thought stored in my mind I face the future--whatever it -holds--with courage. I surrender you to a brilliant future, Olga, -Queen of Ironia. May it be as happy as it will be illustrious.... I -know that sometimes you will think of me. - -"And so, my wife, good-bye. - -"Henceforth I shall be a soldier in your army. Your Majesty will have -none more loyal and respectful. If I die in your service--I can think -of no greater end. If I live, I shall stand ready to come from any -place in the wide world at your bidding. If it should come about that -you ever need me, all that I have, my life, will be at your service." - - * * * * * - -The letter on its way, Fenton gave himself up to a hopeless train of -reflection. He saw Olga again as on the first time that they had met, -beautiful, stately, on the crowded floor of the ball-room. Again he -saw her there among the palms as he hastily warned her of the evil that -might befall her father. Once more she stood, framed in the doorway of -Varden's library, the personification of offended dignity. The scene -changed and he lived over the thrill of their first embrace. He -pictured her as they had stood hand in hand, plighting their marriage -vows over the tongs; and finally he visioned afresh her surprise when -she had found him to be her husband--and he saw the wonderful -tenderness that grew in her eyes. - -He would never see her again! - -His vigil was a long one. Early dawn found him, haggard of face and -heavy of eye, staring moodily across to the eastern hills above which -the rays of the rising sun heralded a new day--a day devoid of -happiness and zest, the first of an endless succession of empty days. -Fenton resented the new day, for it brought him no purpose, no hope. - -An orderly came with a letter. - -Fenton took it. He knew what it was, and his hand trembled. He had, -of course, expected an answer; in fact, he had satisfied himself as to -what she would almost certainly say. Her letter would be dignified, -tender, regretful. It would voice the strength of her determination to -devote her life to her people; perhaps it would reveal something of her -love. And yet as he turned the note in his hands the hopes and -longings that he had spent the night in putting aside trooped back and -ran riot through his mind. - -He opened it and read: - - -"Come to me at once.--OLGA." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII - -THE REUNION - -The body of King Peter lay in state. All the previous day a continuous -line of his mourning subjects had filed past the royal bier to gaze for -the last time on the placid face of this King of an hour, who had given -up his life in their service. Now the darkened room, hung with heavy -curtains of sombre hue, through which the light of the early morning -sun penetrated but dimly, seemed at first glance deserted. As Fenton's -eyes became accustomed to the gloom, however, he made out a slender -figure in black standing on the raised dais, her head pillowed on her -arms, which rested on the side of the bier. - -The quiet figure stirred at the sound of his approaching footsteps. -She raised her head, then straightened up and stepped down to meet him. -Olga was very pale and sad of face, but a tender welcome showed in her -eyes. - -"You came quickly," she said in a low tone. - -Fenton had expected that the change in their positions would be -reflected in her attitude, so he could scarcely credit it when, coming -forward, she placed both her hands in his and looked up into his face -with the same tenderness and infinite trust that she had shown when -they parted. - -"Olga!" he exclaimed, then stopped, finding no words to express his -emotions. - -"I received your letter last night," she went on in the same low tone. -"I had already made up my mind, but your letter was a wonderful -revelation. My dear, my dear, I never thought--I had not dared to -think you loved me so!" - -Fenton had not for a moment allowed his gaze to wander from her face. -He noted with solicitude how wan and pale she was. The intensity of -her grief showed in every line, but beneath it all was the light of a -great resolution that almost transcended her sorrow. - -"Why did you send for me?" he asked. "I didn't intend to see you -again. I didn't want to make it--the inevitable--hard for you." - -She nodded and pressed his hand gratefully. - -"I understood your brave purpose," she said. "It spoke from every line -of your letter. I read it many, many times and blessed you for it. -But what you proposed is not necessary now." - -Fenton did not understand. He was frankly puzzled at everything--her -words, her attitude, even her dress. From the first moment that his -eyes had rested upon her he had been aware of some subtle change. Too -closely absorbed in his love and his loss for matters of detail to -register on his mind, he had in a general way realised that there was -something about her that was strangely different. - -"What do you mean?" he asked. - -"I am not Queen of Ironia," she said quietly. "I have refused the -crown." - -There was a tense pause. - -Fenton gazed at her a moment in wonderment. Then, as full realisation -of what her statement meant flashed through his mind, he drew her hands -to his lips with a gesture of passionate gratitude. The unexpected had -happened, a miracle had come to pass. Olga would continue his wife! - -"I gave my answer to the council an hour before your letter reached -me," she said with quiet simplicity. "There was no question as to my -course when I found that acceptance of the crown would have meant -foregoing my vows to you. Fortunately my decision was rendered easy by -the attitude of some of the members of the council, who felt that the -strong hand of a man was needed at the helm at this time. Certain ones -there are, high in rank in Ironia, who would not scruple to seize the -throne themselves. My father's loyal adherents supported me strongly -and urged that I should assert my right to the throne, but I gladly, oh -so gladly, relinquished all claim. And so I am free--and your wife!" - -Fenton had sunk to his knees before her. - -"I can hardly understand yet," he said humbly. "You have given up a -throne--for me." - -"For love and duty," she replied. "I can be of more value to my -country now than had I essayed to fill my father's place. With Danilo -Vanilis at the head of a provisional government, Ironia will be sure of -capable handling during the times of stress that are ahead. After the -war--if personal ambitions can be kept in check--Ironia may become a -republic." - -"But--what can I do to compensate you for what you have given up," -cried Fenton. - -He read the answer in her eyes. - - * * * * * - -There was a long pause. The silent presence of the royal dead -chastened the joy of their reunion. - -"Olga," said Fenton finally, "duty calls me. In two hours my regiment -leaves for the front. I must say good-bye." - -"No, not good-bye," she answered, raising her arm. "I too going to -serve my country. See--I go to the front with you!" - -At last Fenton understood the change in her appearance that had puzzled -him. She was dressed in a plain black uniform, and on her arm was the -Red Cross. - - - -THE END - - - - - PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN AT - THE NORTHUMBERLAND PRESS - WATERLOO HOUSE, THORNTON STREET - NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE - - - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Amateur Diplomat, by -Hugh S. Eayrs and Thomas B. 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Eayrs and Thomas B. Costain - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Amateur Diplomat - A Novel - -Author: Hugh S. Eayrs - Thomas B. Costain - -Release Date: January 30, 2016 [EBook #51077] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE AMATEUR DIPLOMAT *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines - - - - - -</pre> - - -<p><a id="chap00"></a></p> - -<h1> -<br /><br /><br /> - THE AMATEUR<br /> - DIPLOMAT<br /> -</h1> - -<p class="t3"> - <i>A Novel</i><br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> - BY<br /> -</p> - -<p class="t2"> - HUGH S. EAYRS AND T. B. COSTAIN<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> - HODDER AND STOUGHTON<br /> - LONDON TORONTO NEW YORK<br /> - 1917<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3b"> -CONTENTS -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER I. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap01">A CANADIAN IN SERAJOZ</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER II. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap02">THE ROYAL BALL</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER III. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap03">DARING PROPOSALS</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER IV. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap04">THE MEETING OF FOUR NATIONS</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER V. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap05">AN ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER VI. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap06">THE KING'S COMMAND</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER VII. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap07">GENERAL LEBRUN</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER VIII. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap08">THE QUARREL</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER IX. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap09">A NIGHT OF RIOTS</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER X. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap10">FATE & CO</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER XI. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap11">THE ABDUCTION</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER XII. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap12">INTRODUCING PHIL CRANE</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER XIII. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap13">IN THE HILL COUNTRY</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER XIV. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap14">TAKE LARESCU</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER XV. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap15">THE TRUMP CARD</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER XVI. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap16">THE RESCUING PARTY</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER XVII. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap17">THE RENUNCIATION</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER XVIII. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap18">TWO FIGHT: ONE FALLS</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER XIX. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap19">MARRIED OVER THE TONGS</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER XX. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap20">THE PLOT DISCOVERED</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER XXI. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap21">PLANNING A FUTURE</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER XXII. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap22">IRONIA INVADED</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER XXIII. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap23">CRANE'S ESCAPE</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER XXIV. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap24">THE NEW KING</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER XXV. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap25">THE ASSASSINATION</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER XXVI. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap26">THE DEATH OF THE KING</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER XXVII. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap27">A LETTER OF FAREWELL</a> -</p> - -<p class="chapnum"> -CHAPTER XXVIII. -</p> - -<p class="chaptitle"> -<a href="#chap28">THE REUNION</a> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap01"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER I -<br /><br /> -A CANADIAN IN SERAJOZ -</h3> - -<p> -On a sunny spring day in the year of our Lord one -thousand nine hundred and fifteen, a fiacre drove -up to a big house in the Lodz, the winding, -crescent-shaped street in Serajoz, the capital of Ironia, in -which were to be found the Embassies and the -residences of the wealthier class. There was -nothing singular, apparently, in that particular -fiacre driving up to that particular house. Fiacres -in scores drove up there and drove away again day -after day the year through and occasioned little -remark. Yet if certain influential gentlemen in -Ironia had known who it was that jumped out of -the fiacre on that sunny spring day, and if these -influential Ironians had had the gift of prophetic -vision in superlative degree, they might have taken -some action to prevent him from reaching the house -of Baroness Draschol and her husband, Mr Percival -Varden. And then, perhaps, this story would -never have been written, because Ironia might never -have——But this is anticipating. -</p> - -<p> -The fiacre stopped. Almost before all motion -had ceased, a tall, alert-looking young man jumped -out and, fishing out a handful of coins from his -pocket, implored the driver to take what was his due. -The driver knew him for an American or an Englishman, -or anything but an Ironian, and, carefully -abstracting from the outstretched palm the equivalent -of twice the legitimate fare, drove away with a -smile on his face and a blessing upon foreigners -who had not the gift of tongues. -</p> - -<p> -The young man stood on the sidewalk a moment. -Then, with the quick step which characterises the -man of action, he strode up the narrow path to the -house and rang the bell. It was answered by a -pompous individual, resplendent in a dull -strawberry-coloured plush suit, who, with the -combination of obsequiousness and dignity which can be -found only in the lackey in the Balkans, ushered -the caller into a reception-room and retired with his -card. -</p> - -<p> -The young man looked around him appreciatively. -The splendid paintings which adorned the -walls, the luxurious hangings, the rich, deep carpet, -the handsome lounge on which he was sitting, all -appeared to surprise him. -</p> - -<p> -"Some change from that den of Varden's in -Montreal," he murmured. -</p> - -<p> -The curtains at the end of the room parted -and a tall, well-groomed man of about thirty-five -came quickly across the floor with outstretched -hands. -</p> - -<p> -"Don Fenton, by all that's holy!" he exclaimed, -pumping his visitor's hands up and down with -vigorous exuberance. -</p> - -<p> -"Percy Varden, by all that's—er—profane!" -said Fenton, with equal enthusiasm. -</p> - -<p> -"Old Don Fenton!" repeated Varden, slapping -the other on the back and beaming on him with real -affection. "And in Serajoz, of all places!" -</p> - -<p> -"A pretty good place to be, if I'm to judge by -your surroundings," said Fenton. "You must be -a deputy-sultan at least, Yarden, to live in such -state." -</p> - -<p> -"Ironia isn't a bad place, Don," said Varden, -with sudden soberness. "Or at least it won't be -if a certain event comes to pass. If that certain -event doesn't happen, I intend to leave all -this"—he made a broad gesture to indicate the luxurious -room in which they stood—"and find a place -for myself in the line with the boys in khaki. -When your country's at war, it's hard to be an -exile." -</p> - -<p> -"I'm on my way back for that very same -purpose," affirmed Fenton warmly. "When the -war broke I was in Hungary, and I just escaped the -detention camp by two hours. I got over into -Russia after a series of adventures—dead broke. -I had a letter of credit, of course, but it was gold -that was needed. It took me a long time to -establish my identity and convert my paper into gold -currency. Then I came down through the Balkans -on my way home and decided to drop off and see -you here in Ironia. And here I am." -</p> - -<p> -"But," said Varden, "what I want to know is -how you ever got to Europe in the first place. -What's the meaning of all this glib talk of letters -of credit and gold currency? Last I heard of you, -you were trying to convince the Canadian public -that at last Eldorado had been discovered—in the -form of subdivisions in Saskatchewan. And I -judged from your letters that the public had -developed an unwonted degree of scepticism." -</p> - -<p> -"Then you haven't heard of my good fortune?" -</p> - -<p> -"Why, no, I guess I haven't. What's happened?" -</p> - -<p> -"An uncle of mine died and very unexpectedly -left me several million dollars. I considered -myself justified under the circumstances in following -the bottom of the real estate market; that is, -dropping out." -</p> - -<p> -"Then you are <i>the</i> Fenton," declared Varden, -shaking hands again. "I read something in a New -York paper about a young Canadian coming into -a big pile, but I never thought it would be you. -Why, that possibility never entered my mind. -Congratulations, old man, congratulations!" -</p> - -<p> -"The congratulations should be mutual, -Varden," said Fenton. "I remember when one -Percival Varden was getting his fifteen per week, -and wasn't worth that any more than I was my -twelve per—according to that honest gentleman, -that fair-minded director of budding journalists, -George W. Jackson, city editor of the <i>News -Despatch</i>—the unspeakable cur!" -</p> - -<p> -"Then time hasn't cured you of your reverence -for dear old Jackson—the ill-bred beast!" said -Varden, with a laugh that ended in a growl. -</p> - -<p> -"No, I'll never give up my grudge until I have -a chance to assign Jackson to cover an August -excursion to Hades. They would never let him -come back." -</p> - -<p> -"Still, they were happy days in Montreal, -weren't they?" said Varden. "But I guess I -ought to explain about my good fortune. I -returned to England and met Baroness Draschol in -London. We fell in love, and that wonderful -woman overlooked my personal deficiencies, my -poverty and my lack of position, and actually -married me! My wife is connected with the royal -family of Ironia and owns so much property I -haven't found out about it all yet. And yet she -married me, poor old hack scribbler that I was. -Fenton, when you meet her you'll wonder too how -it could ever have happened. I've been married -three years and I'm still dazed at my wonderful -good fortune." -</p> - -<p> -"Three years married and still in the raving -state!" jeered Fenton. "One week generally -serves to translate a bridegroom from that condition. -Varden, you must be the luckiest fellow in the -world." -</p> - -<p> -"I am," affirmed Varden emphatically. "But -wait until you see Sonia. She'll be delighted to -meet you. We've often talked about you. And -by Jove, Don, you are looking well!" -</p> - -<p> -Fenton was about thirty years of age—a handsome -fellow in a healthy, outdoor sort of way. He stood -over six feet, broad-shouldered and straight-limbed. -Set him in a crowd in any country of dark-pigmented, -short-statured men and he stood out by -contrast like a Norse god. It is not likely that any -woman would ever refuse him the tribute of a second -glance. And yet Fenton was not in any sense a -lady's man. The firm mouth, the strong jaw and -clear eye told of resolve, of determination, of -self-reliance. He had a finely chiselled face, a frank, -clean, open face. Fenton was a manly man. It -was said of him that he stood four-square to every -wind that blew. -</p> - -<p> -"Married yet?" went on Varden. -</p> - -<p> -"No," replied the other. -</p> - -<p> -"Then you've no one with you? No ties, -no one whose wishes or whims you must -consider?" -</p> - -<p> -"Free as the air of the Western prairies," -returned Fenton. "Why?" -</p> - -<p> -"Well, if you can stay over and if you have the -same taste for excitement that you had in the old -days, I can gratify it for you, that's all." -</p> - -<p> -"Tell me what it is all about. And, by the way, -what are your people in Ironia going to do? Going -to join us in this war? I heard a lot of talk about it -as I came through Russia. Ironia seems to have -been pretty well featured in the newspapers lately." -</p> - -<p> -Varden looked around, then drew his chair -closer to Fenton's. -</p> - -<p> -"That's just the excitement I spoke of, Don," -he said. "Ironia is going to figure in the war; -that part of it is certain. But on which side? -There are two factions in the country, and at the -present time we are fighting like wild cats to -determine the policy of the country. Both sides -are determined to win; and let me tell you, Don, -they take their politics hard in this land. It's a -fight to the bitter end in which lives are not counted -of any great importance. -</p> - -<p> -"I guess you know pretty well how matters -stand in Ironia," he went on. "The people as a -whole are heart and soul with the Allies. Austria -holds Serania and Mulkovina, two provinces that -used to be part of Ironia. What Alsace and -Lorraine are to France, these two provinces are to -Ironia. It is certain that if the Allies win Russia -will seize both Serania and Mulkovina, and then -Ironia's chance of bringing her sons and daughters -in the lost provinces back into the fold will have -been lost for ever. Russia offers us the two -provinces as the price of throwing in our lot with -the Allies. Ironians see that it is their only chance -and they clamour for war on Austria." -</p> - -<p> -"But," said Varden, speaking cautiously, "there -is one obstacle. King Alexander of Ironia is dead -against the Allies. His sympathies are all with the -Teutonic alliance. And he is possibly, next to the -Kaiser, the most absolute monarch in Europe -to-day. The envoys of Germany and Austria are -camping on his doorstep, urging him to join them. -He would throw the weight of Ironian intervention -into the scales against the Allies to-morrow if he -were not afraid of the feeling of his subjects. -Fearing to act according to the dictates of his own mind, -he nevertheless refuses to obey the clearly expressed -mandate of the people and strike a blow for the -restoration of the lost provinces." -</p> - -<p> -"Does the King stand alone?" asked Fenton. -</p> - -<p> -"By no means," replied Varden. "There is -a faction that stands by him, composed of a number -of the nobles and the Austrian section of the country. -The majority of the nobles, practically all of the -business classes and the common people <i>en masse</i> -favour an alliance with England, France and -Russia. Needless to state, I am with the latter -faction. I am, in fact, right in the thick of -it—sort of a lieutenant to Prince Peter, the King's -brother, who acts as leader of the popular cause, -and who is, by the way, the strongest man in the -country. It's a great fight, Don—intrigues, plots -and counterplots, with secret societies on both -sides, duels, assassinations and all the other -properties necessary to a Balkan imbroglio. One -never knows when a bullet may not come his way -or a knife find lodgment between his shoulder-blades." -</p> - -<p> -Varden had risen and was pacing up and down -the room excitedly. He paused in front of his -guest. -</p> - -<p> -"Do you remember the thrill you get in a fight -for a big news story?" he asked. "That's all -child's play in comparison with this game." -</p> - -<p> -Fenton stood up in turn and faced his friend. -</p> - -<p> -"I intend to place myself at the disposal of my -country," he said. "I've been wondering how I -could serve best—by enlisting in England, or by -staying right here and helping in the fight to bring -Ironia into line with the allied cause. If you think -I could be of any use, Varden, I would like to -figure in the fight here. Every cent I've got, my -own time, my life, if necessary, are at your -disposal." -</p> - -<p> -"Great!" cried Varden, wringing Fenton's hand -for the third time. "Can you be of assistance, -boy? I wish I had a hundred like you. And -a little cash won't be amiss either. Count -yourself in from now on. You've enlisted in the -cause." -</p> - -<p> -"Well, what's the next move?" asked Fenton, -impatient for action and eager for a closer acquaintance -with the thrilling experiences of Ironian -intrigue. -</p> - -<p> -"Have patience, you old fire-eater," admonished -Varden with an amused smile. "There's a ball -at the palace to-night. I'll get an invitation for you -and probably I'll be able to introduce you to some -of the leading characters in the drama. They'll -all be there. All you'll have to do this time will -be to keep your eyes and cars open." -</p> - -<p> -As Fenton walked down the steps and into the -waiting fiacre, he smiled to himself. "Don Fenton, -diplomat, is a new one," he said. "But one man -in his time plays many parts. I guess it will be -more exciting than reporting or selling real estate, -anyway." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap02"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER II -<br /><br /> -THE ROYAL BALL -</h3> - -<p> -The ball at the palace was a very brilliant affair. -The rooms were hung with a thousand lights; the -flowers, many of them strange to Fenton's western -knowledge, and the decorations were on a -munificent scale. Beautiful women and handsome men -in vari-coloured uniforms moved here and there, -intent upon enjoying themselves. Fenton was -impressed and not a little surprised. The whole -atmosphere was one of wealth and luxury, such -wealth and such luxury as one does not expect to -find in the kingdoms of the Balkans. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton was paying a mental tribute to it all -when Varden touched him on the arm and took -him away to present him to King Alexander and -his consort. Fenton had heard that the King was -a charming man, and His Majesty's personality -made the few words of welcome which he uttered -well worth remembrance. Alexander was possibly -the handsomest monarch in Europe. Dark, tall -and soldierly he looked every inch a king. It -came to Fenton as he stood there chatting, that -here was a man who would have his own way. -</p> - -<p> -The formalities of royal presentation over, -Fenton was backing away when he caught a -glimpse of an officer, apparently of high rank, -approaching the King, with a young girl on his -arm. Fenton looked at the girl—and forgot -everything else. She was tall and graceful, with -an air that could only be defined as regal. The -oval face was surmounted with a crowning glory -of hair, dark and lustrous. Her skin was like the -petals of a wild rose. Her deep violet eyes, large -and unwavering of gaze, were fringed with long -lashes that imparted the only suggestion of -coquetry to a face of surpassing witchery and -charm. Fenton continued to stare in a literal haze -of admiration. -</p> - -<p> -He was aroused from his dream by the reappearance -of Varden. The latter took him by the arm -and propelled him forward until they stood in the -presence of the divinity who had so completely set -Fenton's wits wool-gathering. Fenton, awe-struck -at this good fortune, felt like a humble mortal -suddenly transported into the august company of the -gods on Mount Olympus. -</p> - -<p> -"Your highness," he heard Varden say to -the girl, "may I present Mr Fenton, my friend -from Canada? Fenton, this is her highness, the -Princess Olga." -</p> - -<p> -The Canadian bowed low over the princess's -hand, surely the most dainty hand in all the world. -He was presented in due form to her escort, the -Grand Duke Miridoff, a heavy-set man with hawk-like -features, long moustache and side-whiskers, -which stood out aggressively with an unmistakable -Teutonic suggestion. The grand duke typified the -domineering efficiency of the military caste. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton, murmuring a commonplace greeting, -felt a strange antagonism for Miridoff. The latter's -manner, while strictly courteous and even urbane, -did not conceal the fact that Miridoff himself look -no pleasure in the introduction. -</p> - -<p> -In a few minutes Varden, with a happy tact, -discovered an errand that took both himself and -Miridoff away. Fenton allowed his glance to -follow their retreating figures for a moment, and -then, conscious of the scrutiny of his companion, -turned back to the princess. She was studying -him with frank interest and did not seem at all -disposed to hide it. -</p> - -<p> -"I must have a long talk with you, Mr Fenton," -she said, speaking in excellent English. The -conversation previously had been conducted in French, -in which Fenton was well schooled. "You are -so—so different from us. I have met but two -Americans before, and they were of Austrian -descent. You see, we are off the beaten track of -tourists here in Ironia. Coming from your strange, -big country across the ocean you seem almost like -a visitor from Mars." -</p> - -<p> -The princess smiled, and if her face was charming -in repose it was ten times more so when it -expressed animation. Fenton's diffidence left him. -He began to talk of Canada, of the vastness of the -country, of its customs and its freedom; -particularly of its freedom. The princess listened -with deepest interest. -</p> - -<p> -"I should like to go to America—to Canada," -said she. "It would be so splendid to be able -to do what one wanted without bothering with -customs and etiquette; to be able to go about -without endless crowds of people staring at one." -</p> - -<p> -"Canadians turn out to stare at princesses the -same as they do here in Ironia," answered Fenton. -"In fact, as their opportunities are fewer, they -probably make more of them. And even if you -were to travel incognito—I'm afraid my countrymen -would let their admiration get the better of -their politeness." -</p> - -<p> -They were soon on most friendly terms, quite -forgetful of the fact that she was a princess of the -royal line. In fact, Fenton found it difficult to -realise that his companion was anything but an -unusually attractive partner at a dance; and she -seemed quite as willing to let all other considerations -recede into the background. A quarter of -an hour of most delightful interest passed, though -it seemed but a moment to Fenton, when a tall, -elderly man in uniform brought their <i>tête-à-tête</i> to -an end. -</p> - -<p> -"Mr Fenton, this is my father," said the princess. -</p> - -<p> -The Canadian, who had been observing -everything, acknowledged the introduction with a -correct imitation of the stiff formal bow that seemed -an integral part of Ironian etiquette. The -princess's father bore a striking resemblance to King -Alexander. Could this be the Prince Peter to -whom Varden had referred? -</p> - -<p> -They talked for a few minutes, the prince also -speaking English with fluency. Then someone -came, a little understrapper in a most gorgeous -uniform, and bore the princess away to dance. -</p> - -<p> -"Lucky devil!" sighed the Canadian to himself. -</p> - -<p> -The two men walked out to a balcony, and on -the prince's first remark Fenton became assured -of his identity. -</p> - -<p> -"Mr Varden has spoken of you to me," said -Prince Peter. "He intimates that it is your -intention to remain for some time in Ironia and -to lend your assistance to the cause that Mr Varden -has himself espoused." -</p> - -<p> -Fenton responded warmly, and for half an hour -the two men talked war problems and Ironia's -relation thereto. Prince Peter discussed the -situation with a frankness which might have astonished -the young Canadian had he not been aware that -all Ironia was thoroughly conversant with most -phases of the vexed problem. When the prince -returned to the ball-room, he left Fenton with an -unbounded enthusiasm for the new cause and a -deep respect for Prince Peter himself. The latter -was a born leader in every respect, particularly in -his ability to win adherents. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton lit a cigarette and started down a dark -path leading to the extensive and intricately -planned royal gardens. He wanted to be alone. -He wanted to be able to think, to dream. And -his thoughts and dreams at first ran exclusively -along one groove. How beautiful the princess -was! He began to reflect on the future—his future -and hers. In a moment his thoughts took a gloomy -turn. He would go back to Canada, which now for -the first time seemed void of interest. She would -marry a man of royal blood and rule in some such -country as Ironia. He pictured her married for -diplomatic reasons to a royal nonentity, condemned -to a lifetime of endless etiquette, of senseless -rigmarole. He reflected darkly on the benighted -condition of the old world which made such things -possible. Was there no way that an ambitious -young millionaire from the new world could succeed -in upsetting this almost inevitable arrangement, -by scaling the walls of custom and tradition? -</p> - -<p> -In keeping with his thoughts his pace had become -savagely energetic. He now discovered that -he had wandered well away from the palace into -a maze of dark paths. He stopped and looked -about him. And then suddenly he heard voices. -</p> - -<p> -They proceeded from a thick clump of bushes -close to his right. One voice was raised sufficiently -high above the rest to carry its message to -his ears. The owner of the voice was speaking in -German, and Fenton knew enough of that language -to catch what was being said. It interested him -so acutely that he stepped through the bushes -cautiously in the direction from which the sound came. -</p> - -<p> -In a small clearing, part of which was thrown -into relief by a ray of light from a nearby building, -stood a group of men. One of them turned -and the light fell direct on his face. With a start -of surprise Fenton recognised the Grand Duke -Miridoff. -</p> - -<p> -"Are we all here?" asked Miridoff. -</p> - -<p> -From where he stood behind the bushes, Fenton -could watch the party without being seen himself. -He noted that they were all in uniform or evening -dress, having apparently left the ball-room to -attend this stealthy rendezvous. It struck Fenton -that the majority of the group were not Ironians. -They gathered about Miridoff, who quite apparently -was the leader. -</p> - -<p> -"Members of the Society of Crossed Swords," -Miridoff was saying, "we have heard news of -such importance that we deemed it necessary to -have word passed quietly to each of you to meet -here. -</p> - -<p> -"Events are taking an unfavourable turn," he -went on. "The King is still loyal to our cause, -but the strong feeling throughout the country is -making an impression on him. Peter is pressing -him strongly. I regret to have to state it, but I -can clearly see the King is wavering." -</p> - -<p> -There was a moment's silence, and then Miridoff -began again in such low tones that Fenton -could hardly catch the words. -</p> - -<p> -"I received important news to-night from the -front. The Russians are massing for an invasion -of Mulkovina. It will be hard to hold them. -Once they get possession of Mulkovina, without -Ironia's assistance, no power on earth will wrest -it from them." Miridoff's voice at this point sunk -almost to a whisper. "If the people know that -Russia is ready for the advance, nothing will -prevent them from declaring for the Allies while there -is still time to gain the two provinces by so doing. -Alexander's opposition will be swept away. There -is only one course left. Ironia must be ranged -on Germany's side before the news of the Russian -mobilisation leaks out!" -</p> - -<p> -This statement was followed by a babel of discussion -in which most of the men took part, and the -confused tangle of talk proved too difficult for -Fenton's inadequate knowledge of the German -tongue. He lost the thread of the discussion -until the decisive tones of Miridoff again cut -through the talk. -</p> - -<p> -"There is but one course open. If Prince -Peter is not there to prompt the King, to urge his -arguments of policy, Alexander could be rushed -into declaring war against Russia at once. That -is what we must bring about. Peter must be removed!" -</p> - -<p> -A general murmur followed Miridoff's statement, -and out of it Fenton's amazed senses picked one -word—"Assassination!" -</p> - -<p> -"Well, who's to do it?" someone asked. -</p> - -<p> -"It is to decide that point that we are here," -answered Miridoff. "It is a regrettable necessity, -but our cause demands it. Peter dead, the people -will be like a flock of sheep without a shepherd. -Is it necessary to get your consent to the step?" -</p> - -<p> -The men assented as with one voice to what their -leader had said. -</p> - -<p> -"Our oath binds us to secrecy," said Miridoff. -Drawing from his pocket some slips of paper, he -deposited them in his hat. "Two are marked," he -said. "Those who draw them will be called upon -to perform the service. Are you agreed?" -</p> - -<p> -Rooted to the spot with horror, Teuton watched -the men draw in turn from the hat. After all had -drawn, two of them stepped aside for consultation -with Miridoff. -</p> - -<p> -"The rest of you had better go," said the latter. -"This place is none too safe. Remember, not a -word. Perhaps by to-morrow morning we shall -have news for you, news that will shake the world -and cause a grey fear to creep into the faces of the -cursed English!" -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap03"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER III -<br /><br /> -DARING PROPOSALS -</h3> - -<p> -For the first time now, Fenton became aware that -the happy accident which brought him as -eavesdropper to this extraordinary assignation had also -placed him in a most dangerous position. On -completing their consultation, the three men made -straight in his direction. Fenton tried to shrink -back farther into the rhododendrons, but even in -the darkness they did not afford sufficient shelter -for a man with the conspicuous white front of -evening dress. He decided that his best chance of -safely lay in flight. -</p> - -<p> -Pulling the collar of his dress coat up around -his neck, he started off cautiously. Unfortunately -he stumbled and nearly fell headlong into a small -shrub. Sharp exclamations from the rear warned -him that he had betrayed his presence to the three -conspirators. Throwing all other considerations -to the winds, therefore, Fenton ran for dear life. -</p> - -<p> -The men behind took up the pursuit with -business-like grimness. Not a word was uttered, but -in an instant he heard the steady pound of their feet -and then the sharp discharge of a revolver. A -bullet whizzed close past his ear, showing that the -conspirators were not firing entirely at random. -Several more shots followed in the next few -minutes, and in each instance they were but an inch -or two off their mark. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton had been a sprinter in his college days, -and the knowledge that three expert and determined -marksmen are on one's trail is perhaps the greatest -spur to velocity that could be imagined. Without -paying any heed to his course, he plunged straight -ahead, through shrubbery and garden plots, around -fountains and over railings. His pursuers made -up in desperation what they lacked in length of -leg, and it took the young Canadian some time to -gain a comfortable lead. At last he outdistanced -them, however, and by pursuing a devious course -landed, all unwittingly, at a side door of the palace. -He pushed it open and, finding no one to stop him, -made his way down a corridor toward the sound of -the music. -</p> - -<p> -Without pausing to catch his breath or plan any -definite course, Fenton showed in the ball-room. -Glances that drifted his way fixed themselves on -him with astonishment, until finally the Canadian -found that, much as he had desired to avoid -notice, he had instead made himself the cynosure -of all eyes. The reason was not hard to find. In -his flight he had broken recklessly through -brambles and thick shrubbery. The front of his -once immaculate dress shirt was willed and soiled; -his face scratched, his hair rumpled. He looked -as though he had been through a football -scrimmage. -</p> - -<p> -To find Varden was his first endeavour, but the -latter unfortunately was nowhere in sight. So -Fenton decided to seek Prince Peter in person, -and convey to him direct the startling news he -had stumbled upon. Threading his way blindly -through the gay ranks in search of the leader of the -allied cause, he came in contact with the Grand -Duke Miridoff. The two men halted and stood -for a moment face to face, like belligerents. Their -glances crossed like rapier blades. Miridoff coldly -and without haste appraised the disorderliness of -the young Canadian's attire. -</p> - -<p> -"Mr Fenton has been strolling in the gardens?" -he said. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton was no diplomat. He was unversed -in the art of exchanging polished phrases in the -face of tense situations, of veiling threats, -innuendoes, warnings, in the guise of polite rejoinders. -He replied with the directness and vigour that are -supposed to be characteristic of the Canadian -character. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, I have been strolling in the gardens," -he said, "and it's lucky I happened to be around -just when I did!" -</p> - -<p> -Miridoff, accustomed to the devious ways of -diplomacy, was thrown off his guard by the sheer -unexpectedness of so direct a rejoinder. He -regained his poise in an instant, however, and treated -Fenton to a cold glare. -</p> - -<p> -"Perhaps Mr Fenton will find it unlucky for -himself that he happened to be around just when -he did," he said, passing on. -</p> - -<p> -The remark set Fenton thinking. Undoubtedly -the situation presented certain possibilities that had -not occurred to him before. His presence at the -meeting of the Society of Crossed Swords, known -as it now was to the conspirators, would not serve -as a deterrent to the carrying out of their foul -purpose. Instead, it had given them a double aim; -it would be advisable to get him out of the way -before the plans laid for the death of Prince Peter -were attempted. That much was quite clear even -to one so completely unversed as himself in the -ruthless way of Balkan politics. He was a -marked man. It was equally clear to him that he -was practically powerless in the matter. He could -not go to the police or the military authorities and -lay bare the whole thing to them. He would -merely be laughed at for his pains. Who was he, -an unknown foreigner, to lay such a serious charge -against so illustrious a personage as the Grand -Duke Miridoff? That course could have no effect -other than to destroy his own usefulness to the -cause he had espoused and perhaps to bring -suspicion down on the prince and Varden. Fenton -saw clearly that the only thing for him to do was -to acquaint the prince of the plot against him and -take the chance of any danger to himself which -might arise in the meantime from the animosity -of Miridoff's myrmidons. -</p> - -<p> -He continued his search for Prince Peter with -an almost feverish eagerness, recognising that -every minute was precious now. Delay on his -part might mean the death of the leader of the -popular cause with all that such a calamity would -entail. Miridoff's reasoning had been right; the -prince out of the way, there would be little -difficulty in persuading the King to swing Ironia into -line against Russia. -</p> - -<p> -But, to Fenton, the possibilities did not stop -there. Prince Peter was father of the loveliest -woman in the world! Ever since he had spent -those golden minutes with the Princess Olga, -thoughts of her had never been entirely out of his -mind. Even as he had dashed headlong through -the gardens, a picture of her as she had last -appeared to him, in all her regal beauty and dainty -girlishness floating off to the strains of "The Blue -Danube" on the arm of a native officer, had -remained with him. Could this great sorrow be -permitted to come to her? -</p> - -<p> -It was to the princess herself that he finally told -the story of the plot. He could not locate her -father, and, in sheer desperation, sought her out -where she stood at the end of the long ball-room. -His dishevelled appearance created comment in the -group surrounding her, but Fenton, casting finesse -to the winds, rode rough-shod over all considerations -of court etiquette. -</p> - -<p> -"Your highness," he said, "I must see you -for a few minutes—alone. I assure you it is a matter -of great urgency." -</p> - -<p> -The princess, glancing at him intently, divined -the earnestness behind his unusual request, and, -with a murmured word, dismissed the partner to -whom she had been engaged for the next dance. -All eyes followed them as they crossed to a nearby -alcove. -</p> - -<p> -"Your highness," said Fenton earnestly, "I -want to apologise, first for appearing in such a -condition, and second for what must appear to you -as gross ignorance of all that pertains to royal -etiquette. I can plead in extenuation only the -urgency of the case." -</p> - -<p> -He told her in a few words of his blind excursion -outside and its astonishing sequel. "I may -have done wrong by telling you this," he concluded, -"but I could find neither your father nor my friend, -Varden, and I realised that every moment was precious." -</p> - -<p> -For a moment there was silence. The eloquent -dark eyes of the princess, which had been fixed on -his face during the recital, were now filled with a -troubled appeal. -</p> - -<p> -"I cannot find words to thank you, Mr Fenton," -she said, clasping her hands together. "Your news -is disquieting, although I have feared for the safety -of the prince, my father, ever since war broke out. -Anything is possible in Ironia now—even that they -should want the death of a prince who has never -had a thought beyond the welfare of his country! -He is the most unselfish man that ever lived, I -think, Mr Fenton. One who has not known him -can have no conception of the way in which he has -given himself to the service of Ironia." -</p> - -<p> -Fenton listened to her in a conflict of emotion. -The compassion that he felt for this beautiful -butterfly, enmeshed in the net of royal rank and placed -within a circle where constant danger and intrigue -were part of the price of position, was overshadowed -by a still deeper feeling. Fenton had progressed -thus far along the steep upward grade called life -without any more lasting love episodes than an -occasional brief flirtation. He had always -responded willingly enough to the appeal of a pretty -face, but his first glimpse of the Princess Olga had -stirred something within him that was deeper than -admiration and more disturbing than any emotion -he had ever experienced before. Her beauty left -him in a condition where coherent speech was -difficult and connected thought impossible. -</p> - -<p> -This condition of mind was intensified by the -position in which they were now placed. In the face -of danger threatening, the fact of her position was -lost. She was no longer a princess who might -condescendingly stoop to a brief friendliness with -a commoner from a strange country; she had -become simply a girl, alarmed and distressed at the -dangerous position of her father. -</p> - -<p> -"I am so frightened!" she went on, averting -her gaze to hide the look almost of terror that had -come. "My father left the palace a few minutes -ago. Could it be—can they carry out their -purpose—before he can be warned of the danger?" -</p> - -<p> -Fenton thought for a moment. "No," he -answered confidently. "The prince must have left -before I returned to the palace. In that case he -got away before those precious rogues had any -chance to carry out their plans. He must be -reached at once and warned." -</p> - -<p> -"But," the girl's voice came tensely, "I have -no idea where he has gone. He has come and gone -much of late, never telling anyone of his purpose -or his movements. He may even return here before -the night is over!" -</p> - -<p> -"That wouldn't do," said Fenton, alarmed in -turn. "I must find Varden. He'll be certain to -know where the prince has gone." -</p> - -<p> -He bowed and would at once have left her to -renew his search for Varden had she not detained -him with a gesture. -</p> - -<p> -"Tell me, Mr Fenton, did you by any chance -recognise the men in the garden?" -</p> - -<p> -It was on the tip of Fenton's tongue to tell her all -that he knew of the matter, but the recollection that -when he had first seen her she had been in -the company of Miridoff came in time to check him. -</p> - -<p> -"It was very dark in the gardens and I have -only been in the city a day," he replied. "There -was but one I recognised in the group, and it -would perhaps be wise not to name him." -</p> - -<p> -"But I must know," persisted the princess. -"We must understand from what source the blow -might come. No consideration can outweigh that -of my father's safety, and if I find him first I must -know against whom to warn him." -</p> - -<p> -"That is true," said Fenton, after a moment's -consideration. Then with some hesitation, "I -may be making a great blunder in telling you this. -You see the one man I recognised—and he was -undoubtedly the ring-leader—was with you when -I had the honour of being presented to you -to-night." -</p> - -<p> -There was a moment's pause, during which the -princess stared at him with eyes wide-open in their -incredulity. Then her manner changed. She -became wholly the princess again and there was -unmistakable hauteur in her bearing and, when she -spoke, in her voice. -</p> - -<p> -"You have made a most extraordinary mistake, -Mr Fenton," she said. "It is quite impossible -that the one you have named could have been there." -</p> - -<p> -"I was not mistaken," he declared. "I saw the -Grand Duke Miridoff!" -</p> - -<p> -"I do not doubt that you thought you recognised -him," said the princess, her mood changing again -to one almost of appeal, "but it was a fancied -resemblance. The darkness deceived you. You -have met him but once, and the mistake might -easily occur." -</p> - -<p> -"Your highness, there was no mistake," said -Fenton earnestly. "I have no idea in what regard -you hold this man. It may be that I am sacrificing -all possibility of retaining a small measure of your -favour and good opinion by my course. But there -can be no doubt that the man who is plotting your -father's assassination is the Grand Duke Miridoff! -I saw him and heard him quite clearly. A few -minutes ago I met him back there in the ball-room -and he showed by what he said to me that he -knew—what I know. It's war to the knife from -now on! -</p> - -<p> -"Your highness," he went on, "whether or no -you believe me when I tell you that the instigator -of these men is the Grand Duke Miridoff, at least -you must credit the fact that your father is in -terrible danger. I saw and heard the men who -have planned his death. They are fully in earnest. -Don't refuse to believe what I say on that score. -You know how important he is to his country at -this time. He must be warned at once. It was -the gravity of the situation that impelled me to -tell you such alarming news. I sincerely regret -not having been able to spare you this trying -ordeal." -</p> - -<p> -The distress of the princess was so palpable that -Fenton did not stop for further words, but, bowing -gravely, set off in anxious search of the elusive -Varden. He found him at last in the supper-room. -Quickly he told Varden of the plot and of his -conversation with the princess. -</p> - -<p> -Varden received the news gravely, but did not -appear much surprised. -</p> - -<p> -"We've been expecting some move from them," -he said, "but I didn't think they would go to such -lengths as this. It's lucky you stumbled in on -their little gathering, Don. Now we know the -cards they hold." -</p> - -<p> -"But where's Prince Peter?" -</p> - -<p> -"Safe," replied Varden. "He's out of their -reach for the time being. I expect to see him inside -of an hour and can put him on his guard. No -need for worry, Don. We have the beggars -checkmated whatever move they make." -</p> - -<p> -Fenton smiled delightedly. The lust of conflict -had seized him. He was finding this new game -extremely interesting. Even the attitude of the -Princess Olga could not dampen his ardent spirits; -she would soon find that he had been right, and -Fenton looked forward to another interview with her -when a better understanding had been established. -</p> - -<p> -"By the by, Percy, there's one angle of this -affair that puzzles me," he said. "Who is Miridoff -and what's his position with regard to the -Princess Olga?" -</p> - -<p> -"Miridoff," said Varden, "is the real leader -of the Austro-German party. He is of Austrian -descent; quite a large section of the people of Ironia -are of Teutonic origin. He belongs to one of the -branches of the royal line of the Hapsburgs and is -a large landowner. Until recently he acted as -director of foreign affairs for King Alexander, but -public opinion forced him out of office at the -outbreak of the war. Since then he's been directing -the agitation for a Germanic alliance. He's a man -who will stand a lot of watching. To put it in the -vernacular, Miridoff is a bad actor." -</p> - -<p> -"But where does he come in with the princess?" -persisted the Canadian. "When I mentioned him -as leader of that crowd of assassins she seemed -upset." -</p> - -<p> -"One would rather expect that," said Varden -dryly. "You see the King has the say-so in -regard to marrying off all members of the royal -family, and it's pretty generally understood that he -has picked out Miridoff for Olga." -</p> - -<p> -"What!" In the one word Fenton expressed -all the amazement, horror, rage and infinite regret -that he felt at the announcement of so unbelievable -a fact. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, that's how things stand," said Varden, -quite unconcernedly. "I think the King has the -idea that by bringing off the match he'll get the -two warring leaders closer together and perhaps -wear down Peter's opposition to the German alliance. -It's rather a shrewd move on the part of the -old boy." -</p> - -<p> -"Varden, I could gladly strangle you for -speaking of so unthinkable a match in such a tone! -Why, it's impossible!" declared Fenton. "Such -a thing wouldn't be tolerated in this civilised day. -We're not in the Dark Ages." -</p> - -<p> -"That's just where we are," replied Varden, -amused at his friend's vehemence. "These Balkan -kingdoms are farther away from 1915 in point of -time than Ironia is from Canada in point of -distance. Why, matches of this kind are quite -common—the rule in fact." -</p> - -<p> -"But—but will Olga consent to a marriage with -this murderer, for that's all he is?" -</p> - -<p> -"Of course," assented the other. "Olga is a -sensible girl and has the warmly patriotic -temperament so common to these Balkan people. The -King's word is law, and beyond question. It's only -a matter of time until——" -</p> - -<p> -Fenton's rage slowly subsided, leaving only one -phase of the case fixed in his mind. She was -irretrievably lost so far as he was concerned. He had -not seriously thought otherwise, of course, but -every word that Varden uttered widened the -distance that yawned between a Canadian of no -particular rank, albeit a millionaire, and the -semi-regal position of a Balkan princess. He got up -and walked to a railing near which they had been -standing, and stared morosely out into the tangled -gloom of the garden. He stood thus for a moment -or two before he felt the pressure of Varden's hands -on his shoulder. -</p> - -<p> -"What ever can be wrong with you?" demanded -the other, somewhat testily. "Don't see -any reason why you should take this to heart. -Anyway, the chances are that the princess won't have -to marry Miridoff after all. We're going to settle -his hash before we get through with him. Look -here—you're not in love with the girl!" -</p> - -<p> -Fenton glared. Varden grinned. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, ho!" said the latter. He started to laugh, -then checked himself sharply and patted his friend's -shoulder. "So that's it? Never mind, Don, you'll -soon get over it. I wouldn't advise you to let -this—er—fancy of yours go too far. They don't take -kindly here to presumptuous strangers who show -an interest in their princesses." -</p> - -<p> -Fenton squared around, as belligerent and -impetuous again as ever. "Look here, Percy," he -demanded eagerly, "don't you think there would -be a chance? Can't these ten-centuries-behind-the-times -ideas be overcome when new-world determination -and wealth and—well unbounded love, are -combined to overcome them?" -</p> - -<p> -"The idea's a new one," returned Varden. "As -things have been up to the present you haven't the -ghost of a chance. But there's going to be an -upheaval, a general mix-up around here before -the war is over, and perhaps Ironia will come out -of it with some new ideas. Anyway, all's fair in -love and war, and you're in both, I guess, now. -Here's luck to you, Don, you headstrong old -smasher of social barriers! I don't wish Miridoff -any particular bad luck, but if I get a chance I'll -direct a bullet his way myself." -</p> - -<p> -"But look here," he added quickly, as another -thought struck him, "you shouldn't be standing -there. You're a marked man, you know, and you -certainly make a fair target standing in this light. -We had better be off now for home. I'll just hunt -up my wife and we'll get away. By the way, I -took the liberty of having your trunks sent up to -our place. You'll stay with us from now on." -</p> - -<p> -He drifted away and Fenton walked slowly back -into the ball-room which was now beginning to -thin out. For a few minutes he stood staring into -the swaying ranks before him with eyes that saw -nothing. He felt constrained and gloomy again, -so that the almost Oriental splendour of the scene -and the sensuous lilt of the music had no appeal for -him. Then he came suddenly to himself, as though -startled into consciousness by an electric shock. -His glance had been arrested in its aimless course -and held by the glance of another. Across forty -feet of ball-room, interrupted by the frequent -passing of whirling couples through the line of -vision, his glance held that of the princess. There -was interest, interrogation, perhaps something -more, in the seriously beautiful eyes of Olga. She -was unattended for the moment. -</p> - -<p> -Like a sleep-walker, or a mesmeric subject, -Fenton moved across the floor, staring straight -ahead and letting the dancers dodge him as they -might. He found himself standing before her and -bowed with worshipping deference. -</p> - -<p> -"His highness, the Prince Peter, is quite safe," -he said in a low tone. "I knew you would want to -know. I found Varden and he is setting out at -once to give your father warning." -</p> - -<p> -The princess thanked him. Fenton, glancing at -her earnestly, was aware that her attitude had -subtly changed. He made a bold decision on the -instant. -</p> - -<p> -"You said not so long ago," the words came -rapidly, "that you would like an opportunity to -get away from the restrictions of royalty and -be—just one of the people for a time. Will you place -yourself in that position for just a few minutes -now? I have something to say to you. Will -you permit me to speak, not as Donald Fenton, to -Olga, princess of the royal house of Ironia, but as -one man to one woman?" -</p> - -<p> -The princess did not answer, but she did not -glance away, and Fenton read in her eyes interest, -expectancy, perhaps even a little fear. The -experience of talking freely to a stranger, a young man, -was distinctly a new one for her, but hardly one that -could be entered upon without trepidation. To -step from the well-ordered path of royalty, where -nothing happened but what has been laid down by, -tradition, was like a plunge into unplumbed depths. -Suppose she found herself just a woman after all, -and capable of falling in love with young men who -were tall and straight with direct blue eyes and -cleft chins? -</p> - -<p> -"Then it's settled," said Fenton. Nothing -had been said, but both knew that it was agreed -he should proceed on the suggested basis. "I'm -going to talk to you as a man in Canada would talk -to a girl he was interested in; only more so, because -I'm going to give you advice—something that even -a Canadian might hesitate to do the first time he -had met a girl. I've heard about Miridoff and—well, -the rest of it. All I want to say is, don't give -in to them! Don't allow any patriotic impulse to -gain your consent to this monstrous match. The -man is a rogue, a would-be murderer. Perhaps -back in the Middle Ages it was considered proper -for beautiful girls to marry men of his stamp, -but this is the year 1915. If you could only see -this thing from the new-world angle! Over there, -not only is every man his own master, but every -woman her own mistress." -</p> - -<p> -Pausing a moment for breath, he hurried on: -"A most extraordinary thing I'm doing, isn't it? -Standing up and lecturing you, and on whom you -should or should not marry, of all subjects! But -I'm going to do a still more extraordinary thing. -Remember, I'm talking as a man to a woman, and -you for the moment are just Olga to me, not -Princess Olga. If a man meets a woman and -knows her for the one he was destined to love, and -if he fears it may never be his great good fortune -to see her again, why—he tells her of his love!" -</p> - -<p> -He stopped, for over the face of his companion -had come an expression of mingled confusion and -sadness. As the dying sun catches the fleeting -clouds and incarnadines them with a riot of red -which spreads and deepens and then slowly fades -away, so the lovely face of the princess became -suffused with blushes. -</p> - -<p> -"I fear we must return to the more conventional -basis, Mr Fenton," she said hurriedly. "Perhaps -what Olga might learn would serve to disturb the -peace of mind of Princess Olga—afterward. Please -do not say any more!" -</p> - -<p> -"As you wish." Fenton felt vaguely troubled. -"You know what I desired to say. That is -sufficient. If I can ever be of assistance to you, -command me. Perhaps," and he stood up very -straight at the thought, "you may some day desire -to step out of the mediæval ages into the twentieth -century, to live the free life that the women of the -west enjoy. If circumstances ever change so that -you can order your own future without obeying the -dictates of kings and meddling statesmen—if it -ever comes to that, you belong to me! I love you; -I loved you the first moment I saw you. If you -could remain just plain Olga long enough you -would come to love me too. I am so confident of -it that, when you slip back into your high station -again, it is going to be a great comfort to me that -I could have won you if a king's whim and a -foolish custom had not stood in the way. And, -do you know, I almost feel that soon you will -become very tired of being just Princess Olga and -long for the right to be Olga—a woman with a will -of her own and the right to place her love where -she wills. Until that time—good-bye, Olga." -</p> - -<p> -For a moment they looked deep into each other's -eyes, and Fenton read a message that gave him -comfort, if not hope. Then he bowed very low. -</p> - -<p> -"Your highness, I wish you good night." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap04"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER IV -<br /><br /> -THE MEETING OF FOUR NATIONS -</h3> - -<p> -From the glare and glitter of the ball-room they -stepped out to wait for their car—Varden and his -wife and Fenton. The Baroness Draschol was a -very charming woman of a striking Latin type. -Varden, a strong man among men, was quite content -to play second fiddle in the matrimonial partnership -he had formed with this beautiful young Ironian. -He fairly idolised her, and with every moment -spent in her society Fenton understood more fully -why. She was plump, merry, with flashing -brown eyes that soon brought everything within -their range into thraldom, and a voice trained to -charm by that greatest of elocutionary teachers, -Nature. She alternately petted her English -husband and drove him to raging jealousy by -keeping a flock of Ironian dandies in her train. The -Baroness had paid Fenton the high compliment of -not attempting to flirt with him, recognising -intuitively perhaps that Cupid, the universal booking -agent, had billed this blond young giant for another -engagement; certainly recognising, for she was a -shrewd young person and also very much in love -with her husband, that no matter who else she may -lay herself out to captivate, it is never wise for a -wife to flirt with her husband's friends. Husbands -do not like it. Accordingly she had welcomed -Fenton as a friend, and they were already "as thick -as thieves," as Varden put it. -</p> - -<p> -The motor-car rolled up and Varden helped his -wife in. Fenton was following when a figure -suddenly sprang up from the darkness beside them -and ran forward. The stranger's arm came up as -he ran. As the man from Canada sank into the -seat, two shots rang out in quick succession. -Fenton felt his hat go and, with the sudden forward -lurch of the car, he fell into the empty seat in front. -This probably saved his life, for the second shot -missed by a safe margin. At the first alarm, -Varden sprang to his feet, and, after gazing -hurriedly around, threw himself in front of his wife -to shield her from the fire. -</p> - -<p> -"On! Top speed!" he called in Ironian to the -driver. -</p> - -<p> -The latter responded promptly, and before the -assassin could attempt another shot they had -bumpily navigated a cobble-stoned curve and were -skimping away over the pavement with a momentary -increase of momentum. -</p> - -<p> -"That was meant for you, Don," said Varden, -settling back into his seat. "Hurt?" -</p> - -<p> -"Never touched me!" responded Fenton. -"Hat's gone, that's all. I'm convinced now that -they really do take their politics hard in this -country." -</p> - -<p> -They soon arrived at the big house in the Lodz. -In the hall Varden lingered a moment to whisper -to his guest. -</p> - -<p> -"Go right to your room and wait there for me. -There's big business afoot to-night." -</p> - -<p> -Fenton waited impatiently in his room. In a -few minutes his friend appeared with a couple of -heavy cloaks of dark cloth. -</p> - -<p> -"We haven't much time," said the latter. -"Slip into this and muffle yourself up well. It's -chilly enough out at this hour, and in addition it -wouldn't be healthy for us if we were recognised. -Sharp's the word. The others will be waiting." -</p> - -<p> -"You're most infernally mysterious about it all," -grumbled Fenton. "Where are we going? What -others? There aren't any more rhododendron -patches to be visited, are there?" -</p> - -<p> -Without replying Varden led the way outside. -They let themselves out by a rear gate and quickly -plunged into a maze of side streets. The city was -more or less deserted. The air was chill and damp -and the first streaks of dawn were breaking up -the leaden darkness of the sky. They had walked -for several minutes, for the most part along narrow, -dingy streets with ancient houses on either side that -seemed ready to totter forward through sheer old -age, when Varden turned sharply and came to a -stop in front of one of the largest and quaintest -houses they had encountered. It was as dark and -still as its neighbours on each side. -</p> - -<p> -"Stairs are creaky, step lightly," whispered -Varden, producing a latch-key which gave them -entrance to a dark and narrow hall-way. "Can't -be too careful, you know. Even a creaking -stairway could be heard out there on the road now. -The very walls have ears these days." -</p> - -<p> -Clambering cautiously up two flights in darkness -of Stygian intensity, they came to a landing across -which fell a narrow strip of light, emanating from -under a doorway. Varden knocked softly three -times in quick succession and then twice slowly. -The door was instantly opened and they stepped -into a dimly lighted ante-room. The man who -had admitted them wore the uniform of an officer -of the Ironian Guards. -</p> - -<p> -"You are late," he said. "Your friend?" -</p> - -<p> -"By the prince's permission," responded Varden. -</p> - -<p> -The officer disappeared into an inner room and -returned almost immediately, motioning them to -enter. They found themselves in a long room, very -richly decorated. Fenton thought how oddly out -of consonance it was with the outside appearance of -the house. Around a long table eight men were -seated, one chair being empty. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton started and could hardly forbear from -rubbing his eyes. Surely the tall man seated at the -end of the table was the great English diplomatist, -Sir John Chester? -</p> - -<p> -The Canadian looked again and became convinced -that his eyes had not been playing tricks -with him. There was no mistaking the man who -had figured so largely in the foreign policy of the -British Empire. Spare, straight and muscular, -Sir John was easily the outstanding personality in -the group around the table. -</p> - -<p> -And, piling surprise on surprise, next to him sat -Monsieur D'Aubignè, the famous French diplomat. -Sir John was speaking as they entered, each -word falling with the incisive emphasis that was -one of his best-known characteristics. Prince -Peter was there too, seated beside a man whose face -was vaguely familiar to the Canadian. Fenton -studied the handsome, heavily bearded countenance -of the stranger for a moment before he -recognised him as Count Grobenski of the Russian -Foreign Ministry. The rest of the group were -quite unknown to Fenton, but he concluded that -they were Ironians. -</p> - -<p> -Then he remembered certain hints that Varden -had let drop that afternoon to the effect that -representatives of the allied nations were in Serajoz. -Varden had been very mysterious about it, but -Fenton had gained the impression that the object -of their visit had been to bring Ironia to a definite -stand. -</p> - -<p> -Prince Peter rose and greeted the new-comers -with a bow, motioning Varden to the vacant seat -and indicating that Fenton should place himself -in a chair at some little distance from the table. -No words of introduction were spoken, but the -members of the conference acknowledged Varden's -addition to their ranks with formal bows. Fenton -felt the cold, judicial gaze of Sir John Chester fixed -upon him for a moment, and was also aware that -the other men in the room subjected him to a more -or less close scrutiny. Then the discussion -proceeded in French. -</p> - -<p> -"As you are aware, you, as representatives of -the allied nations, are in Serajoz at my personal -invitation," Prince Peter said. "Ironia has held -back from entering the war because of our inability -to gain unanimous support for any one policy. -In arranging for this conference I was hopeful -that it would result in uniting the factions, in -convincing our people that the interests of Ironia are -identical with the allied cause. Unfortunately I -was unable to gain the consent of His Majesty to a -formal meeting of the Advisory Council to discuss -the war situation with you. I took it upon myself -to meet you thus secretly with such members of -the King's advisors as I knew to be of our way of -thinking, as it was apparent to me that, before we -could take any positive steps looking to Ironia's -entry into the war, it was necessary that we have -a definite understanding. We must know exactly -where we stand before we take any determined -steps to convince His Majesty that Ironia must join -forces with the nations you represent. This -explains the conditions of secrecy under which it has -been necessary to hold this meeting. Your presence -in Serajoz, gentlemen, is a secret shared only -by those at present in this house. I have made -arrangements for your safe departure. It is my -earnest belief that within a week it will be possible -to welcome you back in your official capacities to -sign a treaty on behalf of your respective -Governments, linking Ironia to the allied cause. -</p> - -<p> -"Now as to the terms under which we could -enter this war," he went on. "I believe we -have reached unanimous agreement on all points. -Britain would guarantee to finance us. Mulkovina -and Serania would be restored to us in the event of -victory. We, for our part, would be expected to -place an army of half a million men in the field, -fully equipped, and to maintain this force for the -duration of the war. We have your assurance also -that our loss in the export of petroleum to Germany -would be fully met by the taking up of our total -output by the allied nations. So far all is quite -satisfactory from the standpoint of Ironia. -</p> - -<p> -"I cannot let this conference dissolve, however, -without setting forth in the clearest light possible -the position in which our country stands. I do -not want you to carry away the impression that -this is a business proposition on our part, that we -have waited until we could drive a hard bargain -and enter the war with the surety of gain. Let -me tell you that Ironia has suffered long at the -spectacle of her sons and daughters ground down -under the foreign yoke in the lost provinces. The -only thing that has kept us from attempting to -force justice by arms has been the knowledge that -we would have absolutely no chance single-handed -against the colossal might of Austria. If we enter -the war now it will be not for considerations of -national profit, but to free our brothers in -Mulkovina and Serania from the hated yoke. Other -considerations that have entered into this discussion -have been necessary in view of our impoverished -position as a nation." -</p> - -<p> -In the pause that followed, Varden, seated at -Prince Peter's left hand, whispered in his ear. The -prince lent earnest attention and apparently -considered the news that the Englishman brought of -the gravest import. -</p> - -<p> -"Mr Varden has brought to my attention a -matter that must be considered before we disperse," -said the Ironian leader. "The arrangement we -have reached to-night depends upon my ability to -secure action on the part of Ironia. It was -tentative in that respect; you have pledged the honour -of the nations you represent, but in no other respect -is the agreement binding." -</p> - -<p> -He paused as though reluctant to proceed. -</p> - -<p> -"We can give no written guarantee," said Sir -John, "as we are not dealing officially with the -Government of Ironia as yet. I have, however, -full authority to pledge the Government of Great -Britain to the arrangement decided upon." -</p> - -<p> -"If the honour of France is pledged by an -accredited representative is any further guarantee -necessary?" asked Monsieur D'Aubignè with an -eloquent gesture. -</p> - -<p> -"I am not asking anything which cannot be -given," said Prince Peter. "But I have just -learned that events are shaping themselves on the -Russian frontier which may seriously affect the -relations of our four nations. The Russian forces -are mobilising close to the Mulkovinian frontier, -and there are evidences that an immediate advance -is contemplated." He wheeled around and faced -the Russian representative squarely. "Perhaps -Count Grobenski can tell us of his Government's -intentions. If the province is occupied by Russian -troops, without Ironian assistance, will this -agreement hold?" -</p> - -<p> -The Russian diplomat returned his gaze steadily, -but did not reply for a moment. The calm -inscrutability of Slav diplomacy was reflected in every -line of his countenance. -</p> - -<p> -"Your information is quite correct," he replied -finally. "I did not mention the fact of our -mobilisation at that point as it is not customary to -publish advance information of military movements. -Is it necessary to impress on all present -the advisability of keeping this information as -strictly confidential?" -</p> - -<p> -He paused again before proceeding. When he -resumed, it was with slowness and deliberation as -though each word required careful choosing. -</p> - -<p> -"The plans of our general staff provide for an -advance on our extreme left," he said. "If the -movement is successful our armies will sweep across -Mulkovina and Serania. I have no authority to -pledge the restoration of these two provinces to -Ironia if their permanent occupation is accomplished -before Ironia joins us. The arrangement -we have reached to-night is conditional, so far as -Russia is concerned, on Ironia's entry before the -movement I have mentioned begins." -</p> - -<p> -There was a strained silence in the room. -Monsieur D'Aubignè made a motion as though to -whisper to the Russian, but thought better of it and -subsided into his chair. Sir John Chester watched -the two central figures in the discussion with silent -concentration. -</p> - -<p> -"What length of time does that give me?" -inquired Prince Peter at last. -</p> - -<p> -"Ten days at the most," replied Grobenski -impassively. "The plans of our strategists must -go forward without delay. The machinery of the -Russian Army cannot be stopped while Ironia -hesitates. I am speaking plainly, your highness. -The situation must be clearly understood between us." -</p> - -<p> -"Prince Peter has promised us that a decision -will be reached one way or the other without -delay," said Sir John. "I take it, Count -Grobenski, that you can give him a week? Your -pledge will hold good for that length?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, my authority warrants me in going to -that length," replied Grobenski. "But permit -me to impress this fact. In view of certain -considerations—some of which have been discussed -to-night and some of which have not—if Ironia -does not enter the war now, she might as well -stay out!" -</p> - -<p> -The conference broke up. Fenton saw Prince -Peter leave the room conversing in low and -manifestly earnest tones with Sir John, while Count -Grobenski and Monsieur D'Aubignè walked out -together, the latter's hand on the Russian's arm. -The French statesman was expounding volubly. -</p> - -<p> -When Fenton saw Prince Peter again it was in -the ante-room. The representatives of the Allies -had gone. Those left included Varden and one -of the other Ironian representatives at the conference. -</p> - -<p> -Varden then related the other side of the plot -that had been overheard in the palace gardens. -Prince Peter did not seem as disturbed as he had -been at the information vouchsafed with reference -to the Russian advance. He seemed inclined to -treat the matter lightly. -</p> - -<p> -"I do not fear them," he declared. "They -would, no doubt, do me a mischief if they could. -But I do not see why I should feel concern over -the possibility of death from an Ironian bullet -when we are working for an opportunity to risk -our lives on the battlefield." -</p> - -<p> -"But don't you see that Ironia's future depends -upon your safety," urged Varden. "If they -succeed in putting you out of the way, our chances -of success will be infinitely small." -</p> - -<p> -"I shall take every precaution, of course," -promised the prince. "You can depend upon me not -to risk myself unnecessarily. And now we must -devise some means of following more closely the -efforts of our adversaries. It is quite clear that -they will stop at nothing." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap05"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER V -<br /><br /> -AN ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION -</h3> - -<p> -As they spoke, there came a knock, three taps in -rapid succession, followed by two slowly. The -officer on guard opened the door a few inches and -peered out into the intense gloom of the landing. -After a brief colloquy in whispers with the new -arrival, he stepped back and threw open the door. -Came a woman, muffled up so securely in a cloak -that nothing of her face and form was visible. She -stepped into the area of flickering light provided -by the dim gas jet and, loosing her cloak, threw -back the hood. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton's first impression was one of astonishment -at her unusual beauty; his second an odd sense of -recognition. She was small—<i>petite</i> perhaps would -give a more accurate impression—but somehow -her smallness seemed an essentiality. Although -almost doll-like in sheer perfection of beauty, there -was no suggestion of fragility about her. Her hair -was a shimmering mass of golden curls dressed -with a carelessness that was art itself. Bluest of -blue eyes sparkled with animation; devastating -eyes, no doubt, when their owner so wished, though -now they glowed with serious purpose. The mouth -was made for team play with the witching eyes, but -it was firm too, very firm, as though she got -whatever she wanted. "A determined little person," -thought Fenton as, standing back in the gloom, -he studied her face. "A little person to be friends -with; and, unless I am mistaken, a little person who -would make a very staunch friend. But I'm not -sure that I would want to stand in the way of the -little person's plans." -</p> - -<p> -The new-comer was immediately drawn into an -earnest conversation, conducted in low tones, with -Prince Peter and Varden. The two men showed -the greatest deference in their attitude toward the -girl—a deference which apparently had its roots in -deeper soil than men's regard for a mere pretty -face. When she spoke they listened attentively -and seemed to attach weight to her opinions. -Fenton could not catch what they said so he -contented himself with watching the girl, struggling -meanwhile to fix that elusive sense of familiarity -that became stronger in his mind every moment. -Where had he seen her before? Then it came -to him suddenly, a graceful gesture of the little -person's arm supplying the necessary clue. -</p> - -<p> -In his mind's eye he saw a crowded assembly -hall, a large stage rather dimly lighted and a little -figure that suddenly appeared in the centre of it. -He saw her rise on her toes, smile a wonderful -smile that seemed to grip the hearts of the fashionable -audience and then glide into such a dance as -the nymphs must trip as the first faint shafts of -dawn warn them that their nightly revels are over. -Anna Petrowa! -</p> - -<p> -After a few minutes the prince stepped back into -the room where the conference had been held and -Varden turned toward his friend. -</p> - -<p> -"Come here, Fenton," he said. "Mam'selle, -permit me to present our latest acquisition, Mr -Fenton from Canada. Fenton, this is Mam'selle -Anna Petrowa." -</p> - -<p> -Fenton bowed, and the Little Person, for as such -Fenton had unconsciously pigeon-holed her in his -mind, smiled. The smile brought back more vivid -recollections of her triumph of that evening when -he had watched her interpret divine music with her -flying feet. -</p> - -<p> -"I saw Mademoiselle Petrowa on her tour in our -country," said Fenton. "That was three years -ago and it need hardly be added that I recognised her." -</p> - -<p> -The dancer looked up at him and smiled again. -She had relaxed from the serious attitude -maintained during her conversation with Peter and -Varden, and did not seem at all adverse to the -prospect of winning admiration from this big -stranger. -</p> - -<p> -"I like your Can—ada," she said, speaking -English with musical limitations. "Some day I -go back. Then perhaps I meet Mistaire Fenton -again?" -</p> - -<p> -"I trust our next meeting won't be so long -deferred as that," said Fenton heartily. "I'm -expecting to stay here in Ironia for some time—or -until the little matter in hand is settled. I've -enlisted myself as general assistant to -Varden." -</p> - -<p> -"And he's plunged right into the thickest of it -already," put in Varden. "He hasn't been in -Ironia twenty-four hours yet and he's already -stumbled in on a secret meeting of the Society of -Crossed Swords, dodged half a dozen bullets, -insulted Miridoff to his face and made love -to—some of our fairest ladies." -</p> - -<p> -"I believe anything of Mistaire Fenton," said -Mademoiselle Petrowa, "and especially that which -you say last. But have care, Mistaire Fenton, -these belles of Ironia—perhaps they aim their -deadly glances more true than the men can shoot." -</p> - -<p> -Their laughter at this sally was interrupted by -the return of the officer, who had been summoned -previously to the inner room. -</p> - -<p> -"His highness would speak with Mademoiselle -Petrowa," he announced. -</p> - -<p> -When the door had closed leaving them alone -together, Fenton turned eagerly to Varden. -</p> - -<p> -"You promised me plenty of excitement if I -stayed here," he said, "but this is certainly -exceeding expectations. Anna Petrowa, <i>première -danseuse</i>, engaged in an exciting intrigue in -Ironia and turning up at a most ungodly hour of -the morning in the dark ante-room of a mysterious -house! What else have you got up your sleeve, -anyway?" -</p> - -<p> -"Let me tell you about the real Anna Petrowa," -said Varden. "It will probably surprise you to -know that she has been a Russian secret service -agent for many years. She was born in Moscow, -of very poor parents. They died while she was -young, and I guess she had a pretty trying start in -life, taking things all round. She was drafted into -the Imperial ballet finally and soon made her mark -as a dancer. At fourteen she had won recognition -as a coming star. At nineteen all Europe was at -her feet. She was a little over twenty when we -saw her in Toronto, and at that time she had -already been enlisted into the ranks of those who -follow the most thrilling and dangerous game in the -world—secret service." -</p> - -<p> -"Twenty-four hours ago I wouldn't have -believed all this," asserted Fenton, "but now -anything seems possible. But look here, how in -thunder does she happen to be in Serajoz?" -</p> - -<p> -"She was dancing in Vienna when the war broke -out," explained Varden. "It was not safe for -her to remain there, so on instructions from -Petrograd she came to Ironia to assist in watching -Russian interests here. She naturally gravitated -into close touch with our camp and we have found -her our most valuable and active assistant." -</p> - -<p> -"But what part can a pretty woman play in this -rough-and-tumble business?" asked Fenton. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, you see Mademoiselle Anna has made -the acquaintance of one Lieutenant Neviloff, who -is right-hand man to Miridoff. Neviloff has fallen -head-over-heels in love with our bewitching Anna, -and—well, she can simply twist him around her -little finger. So you see we have a most excellent -method of getting inside information from the -opposite camp." -</p> - -<p> -Fenton whistled softly. -</p> - -<p> -"She's playing a pretty dangerous part, is our -famous Mademoiselle Little Person," he said. -"If they got on to the fact that she's working -with us, I suppose it would go hard with her." -</p> - -<p> -"The Lord have mercy on her if Miridoff ever -suspects what she's doing!" said Varden gravely. -"From now on she's going to be doubly valuable -to us. You see, it's going to be necessary to watch -them closely to forestall any attempts on the life -of the prince. And we'll have to depend on Anna -Petrowa for that. I don't know which of them is -likely to stand in the most danger from now on, -Prince Peter or our little dancer." -</p> - -<p> -At this point the rest of the party returned from -the inner room and an immediate move toward the -street was made. -</p> - -<p> -"There are two cars waiting in the next street -for us," whispered Varden, as they cautiously -descended the creaky stairs. "I am to accompany -the prince home—sort of bodyguard, you know. -Will you perform like service for Mademoiselle -Petrowa?" -</p> - -<p> -They stepped out into the street to find that the -darkness of night had given place to the light -of early dawn. It was decidedly chilly. Fenton -wrapped himself snugly in his cloak and dropped -back beside the diminutive, muffled figure of the -dancer. -</p> - -<p> -At that instant a startled shout from ahead broke -the stillness. Fenton saw a figure suddenly loom -up out of the darkness with arm upraised. -Something flashed bright in the hand of the unknown -assailant as he hurled himself directly at Prince -Peter. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton could see that the man with gleaming -dagger raised to strike the blow that would throw -the control of Ironian destinies into the hands of -the King's party was not alone. Another ruffian -had emerged from the shadows of a deep court and -was struggling with Varden. He could see that -the prince, taken off his guard, had recoiled a step -and was endeavouring to draw his sword, around -which his cloak had become wrapped in a sudden -flurry of the wind. All this the Canadian took in -during the fraction of a second following the -warning shout from in front. Instantly he stripped -off his cloak and plunged ahead, throwing a word -of warning back over his shoulder to his companion. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton had been a star half-back in his college -days. He covered the intervening space in faster -time than he had ever done when the touch-line was -ahead and the opposing wing men thundered after. -The sound of his flying feet caused the assailant -to pause and glance in that direction, which -probably saved the prince's life, for before the dagger -could descend Fenton's fist had found the fellow's -jaw with a glancing blow. The blow was partly -spent when it landed, but it had enough force left -behind it to spin the assassin around to one side. -The next moment Fenton's left hand shot forward -and gripped the dagger arm. -</p> - -<p> -The assassin was a wiry fellow, built on the lines -most commonly seen in the Near East. He had -short, bowed legs, powerful shoulders, arms of -almost gorilla-like length. His large, hairy hands -had an almost Simian strength, as Fenton found -in the struggle that ensued. The fellow fought -with the fury of a wild beast, writhing and -snarling and struggling to reach Fenton's throat with -his free hand. It was all Fenton could do to ward -off that powerful paw which would choke the life -out of him once it had found its grip. At the same -time, it required all the strength he could summon -to hold back his opponent's right hand, which still -grasped the dagger. -</p> - -<p> -They swayed back and forth, each straining for -an advantage. It was a long time before the -assassin relaxed his strenuous efforts for a winning -hold. Finally, however, Fenton's chance came. -His opponent stopped for a moment for breath, -and his left hand dropped. Instantly Fenton -stepped back and planted a short-arm upper cut in -the general direction of his face. It landed fairly -on the point of the chin. The ruffian crumpled up -at the knees and dropped back on the ground with -a thud. The knife, slipping from his fingers, -clattered on the pavement at Fenton's feet. -</p> - -<p> -The latter paused a moment for breath, then -groped carefully for the knife in the dark. His -hand had closed on the handle when Varden -called to him. -</p> - -<p> -"I've managed the other one," he said. "Let's -make a clean get-away while we've got the chance. -Discretion is the better part of valour, particularly -when you've fixed up the lesser part of it." -</p> - -<p> -Glancing around, Fenton was rather astonished -to find that, with the exception of the recumbent -figures of the two would-be assassins, they had the -street to themselves. The prince and Anna -Petrowa had disappeared. Before he had a chance -to express his surprise at this circumstance, Varden -linked arms with him, and led the way at a brisk -pace from the scene of the encounter. Turning -the first corner, they espied a motor-car, the -huddled figure of its driver silhouetted against the -sombre, grey-black sky. Varden spoke one sharp -word in Ironian, and opened the door. They -slipped into the seats, and the car glided noiselessly -away. -</p> - -<p> -"Well," said Fenton when they had settled -back comfortably, "where did the others go?" -</p> - -<p> -"The prince's safety was, of course, the first -consideration," explained Varden. "Then, of -course, he couldn't risk being seen had anyone -been attracted by the noise. If it were known -that Prince Peter had been mixed up in an affair -of this kind, awkward questions would be asked. -Accordingly he waited until he saw that we were -able to handle the pair, and then he quietly got -away, taking Anna with him. It was extremely -important that she should not be seen. By this -time they've got safely to the other side of the town." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap06"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER VI -<br /><br /> -THE KING'S COMMAND -</h3> - -<p> -The Princess Olga rose late the next morning. -It is a popular myth that persons of royal blood -live an entirely different kind of life from the rest of -humanity. The universal conception of the life of -royalty does not go much beyond gilded carriages, -stately balls and glittering banquets. That a -princess is liable to relax, to quarrel, to pout, to -wheedle, to preen before mirrors, to enjoy the stray -bits of gossip that a confidential maid may retail, -to read forbidden novels on the sly, in fact to -behave the same as any girl of the same age, is -a view-point that few have really accepted. -</p> - -<p> -There may have been princesses who lived the -prim, stately kind of life that is popularly ascribed -to them, and did not allow themselves to be affected -by the emotions and weaknesses of common folk, -but certainly Olga was not numbered among them. -Olga was a princess on the fairly numerous occasions -when appearances in state were necessary, but -the rest of the time she was just a wholesome, -vivacious girl—a girl who liked to ride and play -tennis, to wear French clothes and read English -novels and to bully everyone in the establishment, -from her father down. She was certainly the most -unconventional of princesses. -</p> - -<p> -It was well after eleven when a ray of sunshine, -finding its way through the heavy damask curtains, -had the temerity to seek out the spot where Olga's -head nestled snugly in the pillows. Her eyes -fluttered and opened. She sat up a little -grudgingly, shook back her tangled curls, and rubbed -firm knuckles into unwilling eyes—just a pretty, -sleepy-headed girl after all. -</p> - -<p> -Anyone who knows anything about royal households -knows that the first act of the day is to ring -a bell which summons a retinue of maids. This -is an established rule—of the novelists. But Olga -did nothing of the kind. In the first place, there -was no electric bell to ring, for Prince Peter's -establishment, while very large and picturesque, -was not fitted up with all the latest improvements; -and in the second place, she would not have rung -the bell had there been one. Instead, she slipped -out of bed into a pair of warm, woolly slippers, -ranged methodically on the floor with a precision -that bespoke long practice. Then she went to the -window and drew back the curtain a cautious inch -or two, while she inspected the look of things -outside. Satisfied on that score, she proceeded -unaided with her toilet, and it was not until the -really formidable problem of restoring her unruly -curls to order presented itself, that a maid was -summoned. -</p> - -<p> -As the maid worked, she talked. Perhaps it was -because she had found it necessary to talk in order -to distract her royal mistress's attention from the -tugs and pulls that invariably accompanied the -difficult task of hair-dressing. Perhaps it was -because all maids talk. The maid is generic and -the Ironian type has as confirmed a failing for -chatter as her sister in England or America or -Thibet—if such an institution as the handmaid -exists in the latter place. What is more, maids -talk to princesses as well as to the daughters of -brewers and tradesman and manufacturers. -</p> - -<p> -The reason why so seemingly trivial a matter is -mentioned here is that the chatter of Marie on this -particular morning had a most far-reaching effect. -If it had not so happened that Marie, who was -part French and proud of it, had that morning -talked to one of the coachmen in the household -who had just returned from an errand to the -residence on the Lodz occupied by Varden, where -he had conversed with Paula, maid-in-waiting to -the Baroness Draschol; and again if Paula had not -overheard certain remarks between Varden and his -wife, which she confided to the coachman, who in -turn passed the news on to Marie; if, we repeat, -any link in this chain of communication had failed, -the whole future of the picturesque and warlike -kingdom of Ironia might have been changed; -certainly the future of one, Donald Fenton, might have -been very materially altered. But all the "ifs" -duly materialised, the highly interesting piece -of news was handed along with the astonishing -celerity with which such news travel in the under -strata of society, and in due course Marie bustled -into her mistress's room with the information fairly -tingling the sharp end of her pert tongue. It was -as though in working out a particularly intricate -play, the Master Chess Player had shoved a pawn -to its appointed square. It may be added that the -information thus freely bandied among the servants -of the two households was safe in their keeping. -The Ironian in the kitchen will chatter to his fellow -of what happens in the saloon above, but will suffer -his tongue to be cut out before he gives anything -away to the outside world. -</p> - -<p> -The story that Marie had thus picked up was a -more or less complete outline of the attempt made -to assassinate Prince Peter early that morning and -the part Fenton and Varden had played in it. -With a skill that showed the buxom maid to be a -diplomat of no mean order, she let a hint or two -drop. The princess, her interest aroused, sharply -questioned the adroit Marie and in due course got -to the bottom of the maid's store of information. -It may have been that, animated with the desire of -your true raconteur to give the auditor the best -entertainment, Marie elaborated a little on the -original facts, deepening the sanguinary nature of -the conflict, multiplying the number of the assailants -and thereby gilding in the most vivid colours -the valour of the heroic Varden and the strange -"Amereecan," whose name she had forgotten but -in whom Olga readily recognised the impulsive -Fenton. It having been demonstrated to her -satisfaction early in the recital that her father had not -been injured—Marie had seen him with her own -eyes several times that morning—the princess -permitted her chief interest to centre on two points, -viz., the handsome stranger and the identity of the -woman who had been in the party. On this last -point Marie, much to her sorrow, had to acknowledge -a complete lack of authoritative information. -</p> - -<p> -During her breakfast, which was served in a -cosy boudoir overlooking the gardens, the princess -was very thoughtful, and at the same time restless. -She toyed with the food and surprised the attendants -into a bustling efficiency of service by her -petulance. She had intended to ride, but changed -her mind when the word came that her favourite -mount was ready. Instead, she wandered into her -sitting-room and ensconced herself in a sunny -window with a book and her thoughts for company. -They fought it out for supremacy, but it did not -take long for the book to drop into second place. It -was only after staring steadily at one page for ten -minutes that she became aware of the fact that she -was holding the volume upside down. When she -realised this, she allowed it to slip off her lap to the -floor and, tucking her feet up under her on the -couch, gave herself over to unrestrained introspection. -</p> - -<p> -The story gleaned from the voluble Marie had -given an added impetus to a natural tendency to -revert to the events of the preceding evening. The -attempt on the life of her father confirmed the -story that Fenton had told her and brought -conviction home on the score of the duplicity of -Miridoff. She felt convinced now that the Canadian's -version of the plot had been the truth in every -respect. Thus she felt that she had done him an -injustice—and the thought was a peculiarly disturbing -one. A still more disturbing aspect was the -matter of the future, now that she could estimate -the real character of the man who might be selected -as her husband. If the influence of Miridoff -remained in the ascendant, she knew that nothing -would dissuade the King from his determination to -bring about the match. Alliances of an almost -equally infamous character had been quite common -incidents in the chequered history of the Balkan -Kingdoms. -</p> - -<p> -Had anyone been privileged to watch Olga as -her mind grappled with this almost terrifying phase -of the situation, it would have been seen that lines -denoting determination crept into her face—evidence -of a newly formed intention not meekly to -accept the fate so cruelly and callously marked out -for her. -</p> - -<p> -There is a resiliency about the mind of the young -that permits of rapid transitions of mood. The -thoughts of Olga soon strayed from the grim -possibilities suggested by the danger to her father -and the machinations, both political and matrimonial, -of Miridoff, into more pleasing channels. -From every fresh topic that suggested itself, -her mind went back promptly and inevitably to -thoughts of Fenton, until finally she gave up all -pretence and permitted her fancy to dwell with -frank intentness on this interesting stranger. She -admitted, to herself, the fascination she had found -in him, and on analysis decided that it lay in the -fact that he was absolutely different from any man -she had ever met before. The type she knew, the -Ironian of the upper class, was of short stature and -almost Oriental swarthiness—suave, plausible, a -diplomatic trickster, avaricious and limited in -view-point to the traditions of his little country. Fenton -had affected her much as a cool, bracing wind -appeals to the jaded traveller on the desert where -nothing has been encountered but fetid, almost -poisonous air. -</p> - -<p> -And then Fenton had dared to talk to her without -any of the restrictions, the insincerities or -euphemisms of courtly conversation. She went -over again his daring hypothesis. Supposing she -ever found the opportunity to face the realities of -life, not as the princess but as Olga—the woman—what -then? Could it be that what he had hinted -at would actually come to pass? -</p> - -<p> -Her chin found a resting-place on her arms. Her -eyes were fixed with earnest intentness on the -garden beneath, but they were filled with sights -much less material. She saw beyond the court, -beyond Ironia, a life full of all that could make life -worth while—liberty, sincerity, love. She glimpsed -many golden scenes from a possible future in which -courts and crowns and royal pomp had no place, -and from which Miridoff and her other Ironian -suitors were strangely missing. -</p> - -<p> -The gorgeously caparisoned footman, entrusted -with a message for her, had to speak three times -before she came back from the golden kingdom of -Youth's Dreamland. -</p> - -<p> -"His grace, the Grand Duke Miridoff," -announced the footman, bowing obsequiously in exit. -</p> - -<p> -Miridoff crossed the room toward her with -military precision and dignity. He was a rather -striking figure of a man, straight and but slightly -inclined to portliness. Although in the early -forties, his heavy beard gave him the appearance of -being somewhat older. The Grand Duke's Teutonic -derivation was most strikingly shown in the lines -of his face. His eyes were clear, direct, domineering. -Altogether he looked exactly what he was—a -bold intriguer, thoroughly daring and unscrupulous -and efficient to a degree. -</p> - -<p> -The princess rose to meet him, extending a hand -on which the Grand Duke imprinted a kiss rather -more fervid than court etiquette required. It was -noteworthy that, during the interview which ensued, -both remained standing. Both realised that a -crisis had been reached between them. -</p> - -<p> -"Your highness, I am pleased to see that you -are well and not unduly fatigued after the ball," he -said. Then, after a moment's pause: "I am -assured your highness is well aware that I would -not have taken the liberty of so early a call had I -not desired to discuss a matter of the utmost -importance with you. Have I your permission to -proceed at once with the object of my visit?" -</p> - -<p> -The princess bowed in assent. -</p> - -<p> -Her companion deferentially took her arm and -led her over to a window—the very window through -which she had gazed a few minutes before, while -thrilling but impossible day-dreams crowded her -mental horizon. Olga again fixed her gaze on the -garden beneath; but this time her visions were of -a different nature. She saw a future that was -sombre, dull and drab, in which happiness was -sacrificed to stern, forbidding duty and in which -one figure—domineering and repugnant—stood out. -</p> - -<p> -"There is a matter which has never been discussed -between us," he said, vainly endeavouring -to bring her to look at him, "although we both -have understood it—the King's plans concerning -us. I have just left His Majesty and I come to you -on his suggestion—nay, on his command. His -Majesty has seen fit to select me as your future -husband. It was my desire that I be permitted -to speak to you first. His Majesty enjoined a -speedy effort on my part to reach an understanding -with you." -</p> - -<p> -Still Olga did not look up. Her day-dreams had -fallen in ruins about her. Her fate, in the form of -Miridoff, had overtaken her, and was demanding -recognition. A half resolution slowly formed in -her mind. -</p> - -<p> -"The position," went on the Grand Duke, "is -a difficult one. I know that I can discuss it quite -frankly with you. His highness, your father, is -unfortunately opposed to me at the present time on -matters of state policy, but the arrangement that -our all-discerning King has honoured me by -making is one that will outlast all political differences. -May I plead that the divisions now existing -be not allowed to influence your regard for me nor -to stand in the way of my great good fortune?" -</p> - -<p> -Olga turned her face toward him for the first -time and regarded him seriously and intently. Still -she did not speak. -</p> - -<p> -"It was in consideration of a possible prejudice -that may have crept into your mind against the -party I represent and which may have even -extended to me personally that I begged the privilege -from His Majesty of addressing you before his -august wishes had been communicated to you," -pursued Miridoff. "I feared that false -impressions might have taken lodgment in your mind -which I felt confident I could dismiss. And"—he -leaned closer toward the girl—"I feared the affect -of malicious gossip which I knew would surely -reach your ears." -</p> - -<p> -"No gossip can influence the opinion I have -formed of your grace," said the girl steadily. -</p> - -<p> -There was a note of quiet finality in her voice that -would have been discernible to anyone with a less -decided ego; but Miridoff either failed to notice it -or did not pause to determine the correct -interpretation. He went on confidently: -</p> - -<p> -"The wishes of His Majesty are, of course, not -to be gainsaid. I was too sure of your loyalty to -entertain any doubts on the score of your consent, -but I wanted to just lay before you testimony to my -sincere devotion." He concluded with a low bow. -</p> - -<p> -The self-assurance was so openly reflected in his -attitude and in every word he uttered that the -half-formed resolution in her mind became crystallised -on the moment into a fixed determination. -</p> - -<p> -"I trust that my loyalty to His Majesty will -never be called into question," she said quietly, -"but I cannot give my consent to what he has -willed in this matter." -</p> - -<p> -A flush of anger swept across his face. His -cool assurance left him and a tendency to bluster -became apparent. -</p> - -<p> -"Do I understand," he demanded, his voice -hard and rasping, "that you intend to disregard -the express command of His Majesty?" -</p> - -<p> -"I will not—I cannot marry you," said Olga. -"I must ask that you accept this answer as final. -If you entertain for me the devotion that you say, -show it by using your influence with the King. -Urge him to withdraw his decision." -</p> - -<p> -"May I ask," said Miridoff coldly, "the cause -for this inexplicable repudiation of the King's -wishes? Why can you not become my wife?" -</p> - -<p> -Olga faced him squarely. Her eyes flashed, her -voice rang clear and high. -</p> - -<p> -"A daughter's devotion comes before a subject's -obedience!" she declared. "I refuse to marry the -man who has plotted against my father's life! I -believe in speaking my mind openly, your grace," -she went on hurriedly. "If I could but bring -proofs to His Majesty of what you are doing——" -</p> - -<p> -This outburst did not entirely surprise Miridoff. -He had fully expected that some word of what was -going on beneath the surface of things would reach -her. It was largely with a view of getting matters -settled before further proofs of his duplicity could -come out that he had gone to King Alexander early -that morning and urged a settlement. Miridoff was -not above wooing the girl at the same time he -planned to encompass her father's death. He was, -therefore, not entirely unprepared, and met the -situation coolly. -</p> - -<p> -"A most extraordinary charge you bring against -me," he said with well simulated surprise and an -elaborate show of sarcasm. "May I ask on what -it is based?" -</p> - -<p> -"Why maintain this pretence?" asked the girl, -regarding him steadily. "It is part of your creed -to stop at no obstacle that lies in the way of the -fulfilment of your plans. My father stands in your -way and we both understand, your grace, that you -will not hesitate to sweep him aside if the -opportunity comes. Perhaps I should not blame you so -much as the system you represent. You stand for -the principles that have been uppermost throughout -the whole history of our unfortunate country! You -have so little sense of right and wrong that you are -surprised when the daughter of the man you are -doing your best to destroy refuses to accept the -hastily considered dictum of her King to marry you." -</p> - -<p> -The princess had stepped away from him. Miridoff -regarded her with a sudden passion that was -remarkable in one of his deliberate purpose. She -was indeed beautiful to look upon, more beautiful -than ever now with her cheeks flushed and her eyes -flashing their message of contempt. He watched -her almost hungrily from beneath his dark brows. -A strong approbation of her had always possessed -him. In a sort of superior way he had admired her, -and had pressed his claims persistently before King -Alexander. But now her opposition fanned in him -a deeper flame. It suddenly came to him that -henceforth every consideration other than the -winning of this woman for himself would be of minor -importance. A ruthless determination to overcome -her took possession of him. But his craft did not -desert him even in the face of this all-powerful -emotion. -</p> - -<p> -"I know the source from which this charge -emanates," he said with a sneer, "and I am -surprised that you take the word of an adventurer. -However, I do not now endeavour to refute the -charge, as events are shaping themselves which will -eventually demonstrate how little truth there is in -the story." -</p> - -<p> -He was attempting to draw her out. A slight -wave of colour that swept her pale face momentarily -betrayed the interest that the princess felt in -his veiled allusion to Fenton. A question almost -escaped her, but she quickly checked the impulse -to seek further explanation. -</p> - -<p> -"There is an agent of the British secret service -in Serajoz," went on Miridoff deliberately. "His -name is Fenton. His errand is to do as much -damage as he can to the German cause. His -methods are typical of the perfidious nation whose -dirty work he does. He has been in Serajoz but -one day, and has already started his campaign of -insidious lies. I have his record: a spy of the -lowest order who once offered to sell secrets of the -British Foreign Office to the Germans, and who -is suspected even by the unscrupulous men who -employ him. I feel it is my duty to warn you——" -</p> - -<p> -"It is false!" The words escaped her in a -sudden gust of anger at Miridoff's uncompromising -charge. Next moment she was sorry she had permitted -herself to be thus tricked into an avowal of -interest in the Canadian. But her consternation -was no greater than that felt by Miridoff. In her -hasty exclamation and the championing flush of her -face, the leader of the Society of Crossed Swords -had discerned something that he had not previously -suspected. -</p> - -<p> -"She is actually interested in the fellow," he -said to himself. Miridoff had recognised Fenton's -power to do him harm, but had never thought of -him as a possible rival. -</p> - -<p> -"Olga!" The word, tense with feeling, escaped -from him. It was the first time he had addressed -her other than in terms of correct intercourse. Olga -recognised something of the turmoil that was raging -within him from the tone of his voice and glanced -up. Unerring female instinct laid his secret before -her: Miridoff was really in love with her! -</p> - -<p> -"Olga," repeated the Grand Duke, "I never -before realised what the fulfilment of the King's -wish means to me. I want you for my wife." -</p> - -<p> -The princess became cool again in the face of -this sudden declaration. "My mind is fully made -up," she said. "I am sure His Majesty will not -adhere to his decision in view of my unalterable -opposition. And so, your grace, I must ask that -the subject be considered closed between us." -</p> - -<p> -"You force me to extremes!" exclaimed Miridoff, -roused to angry bluster again by her steady -opposition. "Let me tell you this: the King's -mind is made up. There are important reasons for -the match. He will not permit the whims of a girl -to interfere with plans upon which the welfare of -the state depends." -</p> - -<p> -"Perhaps," cried the girl warmly, "when King -Alexander learns the truth about his servant, the -Grand Duke Miridoff, he will realise that the -welfare of the state demands the removal of that -servant to some place where he will no longer be -dangerous!" -</p> - -<p> -Miridoff recognised that further efforts at -persuasion would be useless. He turned to leave the -room, but paused again for a moment. -</p> - -<p> -"I have presented the case to you in but one -light," he declared. "It was my desire that you -obey the King's command willingly. But now let -me tell you that nothing can stand in the way of -your becoming my wife. His Majesty is determined. -I am prepared to take an unwilling bride—and -no power on earth can stand between us!" -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap07"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER VII -<br /><br /> -GENERAL LEBRUN -</h3> - -<p> -Worn out from the excitement of the night, Fenton -slept well through the forenoon. When he finally -wakened it was to a realisation of stiffened muscles -and a general feeling as though he had been drawn -through a threshing machine. He seemed one -mass of bruises. A warm bath effected a partial -revival, and then slowly and laboriously he found -his way into his clothes, paying tribute with every -move to the prowess of his unknown antagonist of -the previous night's mêlée. -</p> - -<p> -He found his host most impatiently pacing the -library. Varden had not been down long himself -but, to judge from his attitude, he had already come -into possession of important news. -</p> - -<p> -"Just in time, Fenton," said Varden briefly. -"In ten minutes I'd have gone without you." -</p> - -<p> -"Where?" asked the Canadian. His tone -seemed to evidence a certain lack of interest, due -possibly to his breakfastless condition. -</p> - -<p> -"To the station," replied Varden. "I just got -wind of an interesting piece of news. General Jules -Lebrun, the hero of the French Army, is passing -through Serajoz to-day on his way to Russia to -consult with the General Staff of the Tsar. He has -a stopover of a few hours, and his entertainment -has been entrusted to me. As you probably -surmise," went on Varden, lowering his voice to a -discreet pitch, "the time that the General spends -with me will not be entirely given over to social -amenities. He has certain papers bearing on a -suggested plan of campaign in case of—certain -eventualities—which are to be handed to me. We -may get an opportunity to discuss various phases -of the plan. You understand, of course, the reason -why this work is in my hands. It would not be -politic for a member of the Ironian General Staff -to be seen with the French general. I will serve -as a go-between." -</p> - -<p> -Fenton had spent the greater part of the time -following the outbreak of the war in the south of -Russia, so that such news of the progress of the -campaign as reached him had been decidedly -meagre. Nevertheless he had heard much of the -spectacular work of the great little victorious -French general, and Varden's news kindled in him -a keen desire to see the famous fighter whose -dashing tactics had done so much to win the Battle -of the Marne. And then an idea occurred to him. -</p> - -<p> -"Varden," he said, "has it occurred to you that -the general's visit can be turned to great purpose -in deciding the wobbling policy of Ironia?" -</p> - -<p> -"In what way?" asked the other. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton shook his head sadly. "As a newspaper -man you always fell down hard when it came -to grasping the dramatic possibilities of a story. -As a diplomat it seems you are just the same. -Percy, don't you realise the advertising value of -Lebrun's visit to Serajoz? He has come right at -the psychological moment to produce the proper -dramatic effect. -</p> - -<p> -"The Ironian people are Latin and so claim -kinship with the French," he went on. "The -influence of France is shown in every phase of -Ironian life. The factor in deciding the sympathies -of Ironia, next in importance to the question of the -two lost provinces, is the love and admiration that -the people here have for everything that pertains -to France. Now then, Lebrun's exploits have been -told and retold from one end of Ironia to the other. -Just let it become generally known that he's in -Serajoz, and you'll stir up a demonstration that will -open the eyes of your stubborn King! I tell you, -Percy, it's a heaven-sent opportunity. The hoarse -roar of a thoroughly enthused mob will accomplish -more than the carefully considered whisperings of -all the diplomats in the country." -</p> - -<p> -"But," protested Varden, "I must have an -opportunity to talk with him. A popular demonstration -is not just the best background for a discussion -on tactics." -</p> - -<p> -"Have your talk first," said Fenton confidently. -"Then take our trump card out in an open fiacre -and drive him slowly down the Lodz. Be sure -that the good news is circulated well in advance. -I tell you what—let me stage-manage this affair. -I was always rather strong on the dramatic -possibilities." -</p> - -<p> -They talked the plan over in whispers, while -Fenton bolted a ten-minute breakfast. Varden -then hurried away to keep his appointment, and -the Canadian began the busy task of arranging the -"props" for the brilliant demonstration he had -planned out. -</p> - -<p> -No inhabitant of Serajoz will ever forget that -day. The news that General Lebrun was in the city -spread like wild-fire. His name was on every lip -within an hour. Thousands of excited and -enthusiastic Ironians rushed to the station only to -learn that the little general had duly arrived and -been promptly whisked away. Crowds gathered -in the streets. Ironian and French flags were -displayed on all sides, impromptu processions were -organised, songs were vociferously chorused by -the ardent townspeople, the "Marseillaise" being -heard as often as the Ironian national anthem. -Later, when Percival Varden drove out into the -Lodz in an open fiacre with a little white-haired, -powerful man beside him, the stage was all set -for a demonstration, the like of which Serajoz had -not seen since the memorable day when Alexander -Sobiesku, first King of Ironia, was crowned. -</p> - -<p> -The fiacre drove slowly up the Lodz between -solid banks of agitated humanity. "Lebrun," -"France," "War," were the words that one heard -rising from out of the babel of sound. Excited -men climbed on the steps of the carriage to grasp -the hand of the gallant little Frenchman. Swords -appeared above the heads of the mob, and the -clamour for war became insistent and belligerent. -The demonstration reached its height when the -carriage rolled into the Square of Triumph, where a -huge bronze statue of Sobiesku, the national hero -of Ironia who had defeated the Turks in the War -of Liberation, reared itself proudly above plashing -fountains and luxuriant foliage. Here, immediately -beneath the figure of the grim old warrior, they -encountered another carriage containing Prince Peter. -The King's brother rose and warmly grasped the -hand of the grizzled French general. For several -seconds they stood thus, while the crowds -thundered their appreciation of the tableau. -</p> - -<p> -Standing back in the dense throng, Fenton -witnessed the scene with double appreciation, for he -had himself suggested, and, in fact, arranged the -setting. "Pretty effective," he said to himself. -"If this doesn't shake the country off the fence I -am out in my calculations." -</p> - -<p> -He felt a pressure on his arm as though someone -had gently tugged his sleeve. Next moment a slip -of paper was pressed into his hand. Fenton turned -as quickly as his crowded surroundings permitted -but could discern nothing in the swarthy faces of -those nearest him to indicate who had been -responsible. Elbowing his way out of the crush, Fenton -made his way to a deserted corner of the street and -eagerly inspected the note. It was written in -French in a feminine hand and contained neither -address nor signature, merely the words: -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -"Dine at eight to-night at the Continental. -Important." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap08"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER VIII -<br /><br /> -THE QUARREL -</h3> - -<p> -The Continental Hotel at Serajoz is known to all -travellers by reputation at least. It ranks with -Shepherd's Hotel at Cairo, the Eis Arena in Berlin, -Giro's at Monte Carlo. At the Continental one meets -diplomats, statesmen, secret service agents from all -countries. Many an extra tangle in the Near-East -question has been tied at quiet, informal parties on -the terrace of the Continental. The second Balkan -War, when the rest of the Confederacy joined arms -against Bulgaria, was planned one evening around -a marble-topped table in a secluded corner of -the terrace. Here revolutions have been plotted, -dynasties have been overturned, assassinations have -been coolly debated. To the average traveller the -Continental is not in any degree different from -other hotels of the same order except that it is -perhaps a little larger, a little noisier and a little -more tawdry in its appointments. -</p> - -<p> -But ask an official of any of the foreign offices -of Europe. You will get a polite and blandly -evasive reply at first, of course, for that is the way -of foreign offices; but get into the confidence -of some official and he will tell you stories that -make the wildest of fiction seem colourless and -banal. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton took his seat at a corner table on the -terrace. He had confided his mission to Varden, -who had earnestly recommended him to disregard -the mysterious summons. Varden was convinced -that the invitation was part of some plot, and quite -as positive that Miridoff was behind it. There was -too strong a tinge of romance to the whole incident, -however, for Fenton to accept this prudent advice. -The mystery drew him like a magnet, and accordingly -the appointed hour found him at his corner -table, watching the crowds that surrounded him -with interest, while he puffed innumerable -cigarettes. -</p> - -<p> -The thronged terrace presented a cosmopolitan -air that was fascinating to the Canadian. There -were all sorts and conditions of men and women. -Here a prince, scion of a ruling house; there a -parvenu millionaire, every line of him and every -move shouting his newly acquired wealth to the -world. A party of American tourists, scintillating -spots of fire from the jewels of their womenfolk, -occupied one table. A thief of international fame -lounged through, eyeing the company insolently. -A fluffy mondaine on the arm of an officer laughed -and chatted as she passed. Members of the highest -nobility rubbed elbows with gamblers of the most -doubtful antecedents. Beauty and vice sat side by -side. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton took it all in, but at no time did the -thought that had obsessed his mind for the past -twenty-four hours leave him. Fenton was in love. -He had no doubts on thai score himself. Most -men have many love affairs and are deceived often, -but when the <i>grande passion</i> comes they know. -Fenton knew. Not for one waking minute since -he had first seen Olga had he forgotten her. This -had lasted a day by ordinary computation of time, -an age according to the calendar of Cupid. She -was at once the most wonderful, the most beautiful -and the most inaccessible woman in the world. -The Canadian's reason told him that he could never -hope to win her, but his heart whispered to him to -go in and win. Of one thing he was certain, that -he would never leave Ironia while any possible -hope of winning her remained. -</p> - -<p> -The hope was strong in Fenton that the -mysterious message was in some way connected with -the object of his adoration. His eye had but one -object in scanning the brilliant crowd with eager -interest—to see if by any chance she were in the -company. -</p> - -<p> -The soft swish of a woman's gown warned him -of a close approach to his table. Before he could -turn a voice spoke almost in his ear, a very pleasant -voice too: -</p> - -<p> -"Good evening, Mistaire Fenton. It is most -fortunate that you dine alone. I have something -to say to you of the most importance." -</p> - -<p> -Fenton sprang to his feet. It was Mademoiselle -Petrowa. -</p> - -<p> -"This is most unexpected good fortune," he -said. Then he glanced around hurriedly. "But -is it not indiscreet? Is it safe for you to make it -known that we—er—know each other?" -</p> - -<p> -"Quite," and her silvery laugh broke in ripples. -"Come, do not look so—so tragic, is it not? Sit -down and invite me to be of your company. I will -then explain." -</p> - -<p> -They seated themselves, Fenton still very -dubious, she with demure grace. For a moment -neither spoke. The little dancer regarded her -companion with an intentness, behind which seemed to -lurk an almost roguish interest. -</p> - -<p> -"It is this way," she said finally. "I am -playing what you call the double game. I find for -your friends all that I can, but they—the other -side—think that I work for them. It is needed that I -so do, else I cannot be of use to the great cause, -Monsieur Fenton. I tell to them some things that -are so and many things that are not. The Duke -Miridoff has entrusted to me many missions, and -this morning he comes to me." -</p> - -<p> -She paused and requisitioned a cigarette, lighting -it daintily and deliberately. -</p> - -<p> -"This is what I am to do," she said. "I am -to watch one, Mistaire Fenton, most closely, to win -his confidence, and if possible—but of course it is -not so—to make him make love to me. Is the work -my good Miridoff sets likely to be of the most -difficult, mon ami?" -</p> - -<p> -Had Fenton known of the scene between the -Grand Duke and Olga of that morning he would -perhaps have been able to understand the motive -that had prompted the former thus to set a watch -on his movements. Had he known the furious -thoughts that surged in Miridoff's brain as he left -the palace after the interview he would have -understood why the little dancer had been deputed to win -attention from him; and, knowing this, he would -have been in a position to anticipate what followed. -But as it was Fenton could make nothing out of it, -and so stared across the table at his merry -companion with palpable amazement. -</p> - -<p> -"You mean that Miridoff has instructed you to -follow me and to work up a flirtation between us?" -he demanded. "What object can he have in that?" -</p> - -<p> -"Is the—what you call it?—prospect—so dismal -then that you must look so?" laughed his -companion. "As for me, I am most frank, monsieur. -I have had missions more disagreeable. But come, -it cannot hurt you to help me play well my part. -Smile, <i>mon ami</i>, look pleasant. The gentle -Miridoff will have those here who report how Anna -Petrowa does her work. See, I take one of these -roses and put it in your buttonhole." -</p> - -<p> -Plucking a bloom from the bouquet on the table -she leaned across the table and deftly fixed it in his -coat. For a moment their heads were close together. -A stray tendril touched his face. She -whispered in French: -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Monsieur, I have news—big news. Listen -closely——</i>" -</p> - -<p> -There was a sudden interruption. A young man -in the uniform of the Royal Guards of Ironia rose -from a nearby table and stalked towards them. The -dancer caught her breath in a way that almost -suggested fright, and subsided into her chair. The -officer frowned at her angrily, ignoring Fenton -entirely. -</p> - -<p> -"Anna," he exclaimed in Ironian, "come with -me at once. I insist!" -</p> - -<p> -"By what right, Lieutenant Neviloff?" demanded -the girl. -</p> - -<p> -"Come at once," repeated Neviloff in a hectoring -tone. "I must not be trifled with. You are -trying my patience." -</p> - -<p> -The Canadian had not understood a word of the -conversation, but he rightly judged the nature of it -from the attitude of the others. -</p> - -<p> -"What is it all about?" he demanded. "Shall -I send him politely about his business or just drop -him over the balcony?" -</p> - -<p> -"Allow me to present Lieutenant Neviloff, Monsieur -Fenton," said the girl, anxious to avoid a scene. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton rose, and the two men faced each other -steadily. The officer ignored the introduction, -glaring at the Canadian in the most offensive way. -</p> - -<p> -"Mademoiselle Petrowa accompanies me," he -declared in broken French. "I warn you, fellow, -to be more careful in future. Anna, come at once!" -</p> - -<p> -"Not so fast!" exclaimed Fenton, his choler -rising. "I don't like your way of doing things, -Monsieur Lieutenant. Mademoiselle Petrowa stays -where she is!" -</p> - -<p> -Neviloff turned a furious red and took a step -closer to Fenton with a threatening gesture. "You -foreign pig!" he said through gritted teeth. -"Leave while you may with a whole skin. You -try my patience much. I shall spit you with my -sword if you remain longer in my sight!" -</p> - -<p> -Fenton laughed—a short, ominous laugh. -</p> - -<p> -"You miserable little whipper-snapper!" he -said, both fists clenched and itching for action. -"If ever let myself go and lay hands on you—— Get -out yourself before my patience runs out!" -</p> - -<p> -"If you were of rank to be worth notice," -retorted Neviloff with angry contempt, "I would -slap you with my glove in the face, and then -to-morrow morning I would end your miserable life. -But as it is——" -</p> - -<p> -A shrug of his shoulders and a gesture -eloquent of his contempt followed. Fenton suddenly -lunged forward and seized the officer's arm with -a grip that almost paralysed that member. Half -leading, half dragging, he propelled the unwilling -lieutenant toward his own table. Arriving there, -Fenton forced Neviloff down on his chair so hard -that it went over backward, taking him with it. -</p> - -<p> -"There," said Fenton. "Now behave!" -</p> - -<p> -Neviloff scrambled to his feet with more -expedition than dignity. His face was crimson with -wrath and humiliation. With a sudden fury he -half drew his sword from its sheath. -</p> - -<p> -"It is too much!" His voice was high and -shrill. "I kill you for this. This evening a friend -of mine shall wait upon you. To-morrow I shall -honour you, pig of a foreigner, by killing you, as -I would a gentleman." -</p> - -<p> -"Go as far as you like," said Fenton -nonchalantly, turning back. -</p> - -<p> -He walked back to his table to find it empty. -The Little Person had gone. Fenton paid his -score and left. He idled about the Lodz, which -was brilliantly lighted at night, and on the Duntzig, -where the orchestras played, for an hour or so, -enjoying himself fully. The incident on the -terrace he had dismissed from his mind. He did not, -as a matter of fact, expect ever to hear of it again, -but when he reached home Varden greeted him with -a face of tragic concern. -</p> - -<p> -"Look here, what have you been doing?" -demanded the latter. "An officer of the Guards -has just been here with a formal challenge from -Neviloff. What in heaven's name have you done -to offend him?" -</p> - -<p> -Fenton laughed almost incredulously. "You -must be joking," he said. "I haven't done -anything. This Neviloff fellow tried to take -Mademoiselle Petrowa away from me over at the -Continental. He was most offensive about it. I -stood as much as I could from him, and then I just -led him back to his seat and made him behave." -</p> - -<p> -"Is that all?" asked Varden in mock surprise. -"Didn't you perform any little trivial politeness -such as breaking a rib or two, or leave him a -souvenir in the way of a couple of black eyes? -Damnation, Fenton, they fight duels in this country -on the strength of a side-glance of the eye, a shrug -of the shoulder, an inflection——" -</p> - -<p> -"Have I got to fight him then?" asked the -Canadian. -</p> - -<p> -"It looks like it," said Varden gloomily. -"Either that or make a quick exit from the -country." -</p> - -<p> -"Which last is, of course, out of the question," -said Fenton positively. "Still I'm in rather a fix. -I won't put up much of a fight I'm afraid. Do I -have the choice of weapons?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, as challenged party you can choose the -method by which this Neviloff will kill you." -</p> - -<p> -"I know as much about a harpoon as I do about -a sword," said Fenton reflectively. "I can shoot -a little though. Make it pistols." -</p> - -<p> -"Say, Don," protested Varden tragically, -"what is it all about anyway? How did you -come to get into such a mess?" -</p> - -<p> -Fenton told him the whole story, and at the -conclusion Varden swore vindictively. -</p> - -<p> -"It was all arranged," he declared. "Miridoff -is behind this. He instructed the girl to make up -to you, and then had his handy man there to force -you into a quarrel—a nice convenient form of -assassination, quite worthy of Miridoff." -</p> - -<p> -"Do you mean that Mademoiselle Petrowa was -in with them too?" asked Fenton, astounded. -</p> - -<p> -"No, of course not. I would stake my honour -on her. Miridoff probably suggested that she make -up to you, and, seeing an easy avenue opened up -of getting into communication with us, she -assented. Then Miridoff works this other trick -and—there you are! Don, for the love of heaven clear -out while you have the chance. They'll kill you -sure if you stay!" -</p> - -<p> -"I can't go," said Fenton firmly. "It would -brand me as a coward—and I cannot leave that -kind of a reputation behind me. But, Varden, -there's one thing—I don't understand what Miridoff's -game is in regard to Mademoiselle Petrowa! -Why should he want her to entangle me?" -</p> - -<p> -"I can see several likely reasons," answered -Varden. "You have earned his resentment in the -first place, and Miridoff always pays off his scores. -It served as a good pretext for Neviloff to pick a -quarrel in the second place. And thirdly—Miridoff -is jealous. Your escapade of this evening will -be reported in a certain quarter in a way calculated -to injure you in the eyes of—a certain person. -You see I know Miridoff thoroughly." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap09"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER IX -<br /><br /> -A NIGHT OF RIOTS -</h3> - -<p> -Fenton had recognised the possibilities of a popular -demonstration for the great French General, but if -he had known how far public feeling would be -aroused, he undoubtedly would have hesitated -before suggesting that capital be made out of the -timely visit of the French hero. As things turned -out the appearance of the grey-haired general on -the Lodz set in motion such waves of racial -enthusiasm and warlike frenzy that Serajoz experienced -one of the wildest days and maddest nights in all -its wild and mad history. -</p> - -<p> -The terms of the duel had been settled between -the sadly perturbed Varden and a saturnine officer -who called on behalf of the aggrieved Neviloff, and -the former sat with his principal in a balcony that -overlooked the seething, turbulent Lodz. It was -after eleven o'clock, but the crowds were not -thinning out, and the tumult seemed to be increasing -in violence all the time. -</p> - -<p> -After half an hour's earnest argument Varden -had given up hope of persuading the Canadian to -depart from the capital before he fell a victim to -the skill of Neviloff, and now sat eyeing, glumly, -the animated scene below. Suddenly, above the -noise of the mobs, came the electrifying crackle of -musketry. First there were a few sharp explosions, -then gradually the firing settled down into the -sustained din of a steady fusillade. -</p> - -<p> -"That means trouble!" ejaculated Varden. -"The Guards must be firing on the people -down around the royal palace, judging from the -sound." -</p> - -<p> -Moved by a common impulse the two men rose. -Varden brought out heavy caps and cloaks, so -that when they emerged into the street they were -effectually disguised. -</p> - -<p> -"Lead on, right into the thick of it," -admonished Fenton. "I'm afraid we've missed -something!" -</p> - -<p> -They had. When they reached the square in -front of the royal palace, they found it jammed -with excited humanity, except for a significant -radius around the entrance. Drawn up -across the imposing gates was a double file of -soldiers. -</p> - -<p> -"The Guards fired on the mob. A couple have -been killed!" exclaimed Varden, who had picked -up the information from the excited shouts of those -around them. "The fat's in the fire, Don! If -Alexander holds out much longer they'll burn the -palace to the ground." -</p> - -<p> -In the surging mob the pair were soon separated, -Varden being borne off bodily in a panicky rush of -the people to avoid a threatened charge by the -soldiers. Loath to return home while the -excitement ran so high, Fenton drifted along with the -crowd. He witnessed a demonstration in the course -of which every window in the Austrian embassy -was smashed. He saw Turkish shops and Austrian -restaurants raided. Street fights became a -mere incident. The clamorous cry for war was -heard on every hand, coupled with execrations -of King Alexander. On one public square -the stubborn sovereign of Ironia was burned in -effigy. -</p> - -<p> -About one o'clock Fenton found himself in a -small Greek restaurant on one of the narrow -mercantile streets that run off the Duntzig. He was -hungry enough to overlook the uninviting appearance -of the place and the decidedly rough-looking -crew who crowded about the tables. He shared -one table with a picturesque old foreigner with a -battered, time-worn countenance, and apparel that -bespoke either poverty or utter disregard for -appearance. Fenton stared at the grimy menu card -printed in Ironian that a tatterdemalion waiter -presented, and pointed to one of the items -haphazard. Luck was not with him, his selection -proving to be a sallow omelet of uncertain composition -but positive odour. One look at the steaming -mess and Fenton's appetite took wings. He -pushed the plate to one side. -</p> - -<p> -"Monsieur has not learned to appreciate native -cookery," said the foreigner, glancing up and -speaking in excellent French. "Monsieur perhaps -speaks French?" -</p> - -<p> -"He does," replied Fenton. "And decidedly -he does not appreciate native cookery." -</p> - -<p> -"For ten years I have been an exile from my -beloved France!" sighed the old man. "It has -been hard, monsieur, very hard. But the hardest -part has been to subsist on the reeking, nauseous -stuff that these Ironians call food. But time can -work any miracle, monsieur. To-day I, François -Dubois, with a palate that once was educated to -the highest Parisian standard, can eat even the -omelet of an Ironian cook and—forgive the -blasphemy, monsieur—call it good!" -</p> - -<p> -Fenton twisted his chair around so that he could -regard his table companion more closely. The old -Frenchman had a care-lined face from which a -pair of black eyes looked out with a virility -strangely at variance with the lifeless grey of the -mask in which they were set. -</p> - -<p> -"How do you happen to be living in Serajoz?" -Fenton asked curiously. -</p> - -<p> -"It's a long story and would weary monsieur's -patience in the telling," replied the old man. -"In a word, I came here with a company of strolling -players—I was an actor and a musician, monsieur. -Ironia was in a bad way ten years ago. A -revolution threatened, war with Turkey was feared, -the Government was nearly bankrupt. We made -so little money that our company disbanded in -Serajoz, and here has Francois Dubois remained -ever since, picking up a meagre living by teaching -music to such pupils as he has been able to find. -The thought that some day I would save enough -to return to France has kept life in this useless -old body, monsieur. But that hope is now almost gone!" -</p> - -<p> -"You know Ironia well then?" suggested -Fenton. "Tell me, what is the real sentiment of -the people? Is this all froth or do they really want -war?" -</p> - -<p> -"The people of Ironia want war!" said the old -man soberly. "Listen to me, monsieur, for I -know of what I speak. They are a deep lot, these -Ironians, deeper than most people think—fiery in -love, implacable in hate, consistent in gratitude, -eternal in revenge, deep, deep. They hate the -Turk and the Austrian. They want to win back -the lost provinces, and would rather win them back -by fighting for them. The smoke of battle is incense -in the nostrils of the Ironian." -</p> - -<p> -The old man wagged his forefinger portentously -at Fenton. -</p> - -<p> -"If there is one man in Ironia blinder than all -others it is King Alexander," he went on. "I, -Francois Dubois, say so. Monsieur, I feel in the -prophetic vein to-night and I am telling you this: -that Alexander will not give in to the people. He -is a stiff-necked man, this Alexander, and he -believes in the divine right of kings. His pledged -word as a monarch is more to him than the -welfare of the country over which he rules. He -will not budge one inch, monsieur, and I see the -day not far distant when, as first step to making -the war they have willed, the Ironians will take -from Alexander his crown. No king can balk -the will of a nation to-day—not even a nation in -the Balkans!" -</p> - -<p> -"You really think it could happen?" asked -Fenton, a little incredulous. "If they did depose -Alexander, who would succeed him?" -</p> - -<p> -"The Prince Peter, perhaps," replied the old -actor. "Or, more likely still, Ironia would become -a republic like my own dear France! Ah, monsieur, -it would almost reconcile me to dying in this -country if I knew that the freedom of France had -at last reached Ironia!" -</p> - -<p> -"A republic!" ejaculated Fenton, bright visions -flitting before him, conjured up by the old man's -words. A republic meant the breaking down of -social barriers, the abolition of royal families—and, -therefore, of royal marriages. But then he -perceived the absolute futility of the idea. What -did it matter to him whether Ironia became a -republic or not? That morning he was due to -offer himself as a target to Neviloff, and the -outcome did not seem at all uncertain. Almost -unconsciously he started to talk to his companion, -telling him of the impending duel. -</p> - -<p> -"It is not uncommon for visitors to become -embroiled with native officers, monsieur," said the -old man. "Many a duel has been fought on -grounds that smacked strongly of robbery. The -upper-class Ironian, monsieur, is a cut-throat, a -thief, with the manners of a gentleman but the -instincts of a pirate. But," and he shrugged his -shoulders, "I would not fear the outcome. I know -my Ironian well. He is devilish handy with the -sword, but a poor shot, an atrociously bad shot. -Have courage; you are more likely to wing him -yourself. And in any case, the duel—it has -not often the fatal ending. Look at me, -monsieur. In my day four duels have I fought—and -at sixty-two I live to teach music in the gutter -of Europe!" -</p> - -<p> -Considerably comforted by the old man's words, -Fenton took down his address on a card and left, -promising to look Monsieur Dubois up on the -first opportunity. -</p> - -<p class="thought"> -***** -<br /> -</p> - -<p> -At dawn the Canadian accompanied Varden to -a misty, silent field on the outskirts of the city, -there to wait for Neviloff and his friends. They -waited long past the appointed hour, until Varden, -who had come in a mood of almost despairing -protest, began to cheer. -</p> - -<p> -"Something's gone wrong," he said finally. -"Neviloff would not funk it, of course. This sort -of thing is all in the day's work to Neviloff. But -a hitch has occurred somewhere." -</p> - -<p> -As he finished an officer came across the field -toward them. He saluted and spoke in Ironian to -Varden. -</p> - -<p> -"Saved, Don!" exclaimed the latter when the -officer had left. "Once again have you managed -to evade the consequences of your rash conduct. -Neviloff can't keep the appointment. The riots -last night became so bad that the troops in the city -have been ordered to remain under arms, and the -gallant lieutenant will be chained to duty until the -situation becomes less acute. In the meantime his -slighted honour must go without redress. He -sends most profuse apologies—for not being -able to kill you this morning. Come on, Don, -I feel as though I could enjoy a good breakfast now." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap10"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER X -<br /><br /> -FATE & CO. -</h3> - -<p> -The particular department of the well-known firm -of Fate & Co., to which had been deputed the -difficult task of weaving a train of circumstances that -would plunge a nation into war, had been working -overtime during the forty or so hours that Donald -Fenton had been in Serajoz. The web was being -surely and unerringly spun, and already certain -skeins that represented human lives had been -closely interwoven. Three lives, indexed in the -ledgers of Fate perhaps by soul numbers, but -distinguished from other mortals on earth by the -titles of Donald Fenton, the Grand Duke Miridoff, -and Olga of Ironia, were so hopelessly tangled, -it was apparent that in the unravelling process one -or more might be snapped off. Peering at what -was ahead, the grim official saw two men stand -face to face with the world-old issue to be settled -between them, at the same time that angry mobs -stormed palace walls for a cause that a stubborn -king had forsworn. -</p> - -<p> -And with this objective in view the minion of -Fate first prompted a prudent thought to take -possession of the mind of Prince Peter that -morning, and then saw to it that a whisper of a -restaurant brawl and a duel, impending or already -fought, reached the ears of the Princess Olga. -Acting on the first, Prince Peter decided that in -its upset condition Serajoz was no place for his -daughter, and notified her that he had decided she -must go to his county estate at Kail Baleski until -such time as the trouble blew over, and acting on -the second, Olga hurriedly summoned her carriage -and set out for a house on the Lodz where resided -her very great confidante, the Baroness Draschol. -Not content with this, the untiring tangler of -human skeins prompted a certain little person of -exceptional personal charm and international -antecedents to don the garb of a peasant woman, -muffling her face in a hood, and to set off on foot -by sundry unfrequented streets and alleys bound -for the same residence in the Lodz. -</p> - -<p> -When he had seen that the princess entered by -the front portal at the very moment that the -pseudo-peasant knocked at a rear entrance, and had -furthermore satisfied himself that Donald Fenton had risen -from the breakfast-table and had strolled aimlessly -into the library, there to wait for his host who had -been called away, the official of Fate was content -to sit back and let events take their course, -confident that now his human puppets could not deviate -from the lines he had laid down for them. -</p> - -<p> -Baroness Draschol received her royal friend in -her own sitting-room, which was just across the -hall from the library. There they chatted for some -time. Olga soon gleaned such information with -reference to the postponed duel as the prudent -Varden had seen fit to trust to his wife. In the -meantime the peasant woman, who had asked at -the rear door first for Mr Varden and then for Mr -Fenton, and had been admitted only after the -transfer of a gold coin, had been escorted to the -library, where she removed the heavy hood, -revealing the pleasing features of Anna Petrowa. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton, who was becoming inured to surprises -of all descriptions, accepted this transformation -with equanimity. -</p> - -<p> -"Good morning, mademoiselle," he said, setting -a chair for her. "I am delighted to see you, -but not surprised. Nothing out of the ordinary -has happened for half an hour or so. I felt that -the inactivity wouldn't keep up much longer." -</p> - -<p> -"I am so more than glad that monsieur has -come to no harm," said the dancer quite earnestly. -"I see it all now. It was a plot to trap you, and -I an innocent part playing in it. But monsieur, I -see, does not think of me as the double traitor." -</p> - -<p> -She placed a finger on her lips to enjoin silence, -and then, tip-toeing over beside him, whispered: -</p> - -<p> -"I had not time before we were interrupted to -tell the big news that I have learned, and thus have -I risked all by coming here so in the broad -daylight. It is this: Many of the army officers are -with our cunning Miridoff, and a plot is spreading -to force Ironia into war against Russia by the same -means that they used with Turkey. A body of -Ironian troops, acting without official orders, will -cross the line to Russia and burn a village or so. -The Russians, of course, they retaliate, and then -war is certain to follow. It is all arranged, -monsieur. Where or when I do not know. Word, I -beseech, must be taken at once to his highness." -</p> - -<p> -Fenton sprang up and paced the floor excitedly. -"Of course, it is exactly what they would do," he -exclaimed. "Last night has shown them that they -cannot win by fair means. Mr Varden is out, -mademoiselle, but will be back in a very few -minutes. Word shall be taken to Prince Peter as -soon as he returns." -</p> - -<p> -In the course of a minute or so Fenton's -thoughts, occupied with the important information -that she had brought, turned to the consideration -of how so vital a piece of news had been obtained. -He stood in front of his intrepid companion and -regarded her with stimulated interest and quite -frank admiration. -</p> - -<p> -"I can't understand it at all," he said. "Try -as I may I can't really associate you with plots and -counter-plots and secret meetings, and associations -with all the rag-tag and bob-tail of Balkan intrigue. -You are so fair, so young, so—well, so completely -feminine that I can't see how you succeed in work -that belongs, by its very nature, to the rougher -animal, man." -</p> - -<p> -"You are mistaken, Mistaire Fenton," she -protested, "and your mistake is so thoroughly -masculine! It should not be difficult for a woman to -do the work I am doing. It is the work a woman -can do best; it is subtle, it requires keen observation -of the little things, it means that always the -right word must be used; it needs some personal -charm, monsieur, and a thorough knowledge of -how to exploit it. Women—and women only—can -be depended upon for the more delicate missions -of secret service. It is man—direct, blundering, -outspoken man, who thinks judgment better than -intuition—who does not fit into the picture." -</p> - -<p> -"You put it so well that I am almost convinced," -smiled Fenton. "Still, I don't like to think of you -having to associate with the likes of Miridoff and -his murder crew. There are two spheres in which -I like to picture you—on the stage earning the -plaudits of the world, and in a cosy chair on the -hearth of some lucky man's home." -</p> - -<p> -"You are quite hopeless, <i>mon ami</i>," she sighed. -"Your view-point—it is so masculine—so -one-sided. Man regards woman in but two ways—he -wants to possess her and to show her off. If she -feels that she must achieve more than man's fatuous -approval he frowns, objects, bullies, even uses force -to stop her. Is it not so?" -</p> - -<p> -"It is clear that you have travelled over much -in America," said Fenton with a laugh. "Are -such ideas common among the women of your own -country?" -</p> - -<p> -"Advanced thought, it is found everywhere," -she replied. The conversation was becoming too -abstruse for her scanty English, and she abruptly -changed to French, where she was more at home. -"In your America the positions have been reversed. -There it is the woman who has the complete -freedom and the man who is tied. The American—he -is too easy. He has but two functions left to -him—business and the support of his women-folk." -</p> - -<p> -"Mademoiselle is a sage, I see, as well as so -many other things," said Fenton, not a little -puzzled at the change that had come over her. -From a dainty little person, full of coquettish wiles -and sidelong glances, she had suddenly become a -serious woman, full of the fire of earnest purpose -and determination. Genuinely interested, he asked, -"Tell me, mademoiselle, do you really like this -life? Can you enjoy it, with all its dangers, its -insincerities, its cruelties?" -</p> - -<p> -For a moment she did not answer. Her glance -wandered to a window and fixed itself on -outer space, while a smile that was at once -brave and wistful played at the corners of her -mouth. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, I like it, <i>mon ami</i>," she said. "It is -hard; it robs one of treasured illusions; it takes the -silver finish off life and shows the brass beneath. -A woman who plays the great game misses much -that women are supposed to want—and do want. -It may be that these things will be missed from my -life, but—I will not regret them. This life means -that I am standing alone, fighting against things, -combating circumstances, and shaping them to my -own ends, trying to grasp from an unwilling hand -the fruit success." -</p> - -<p> -"You are right," said Fenton emphatically. -"It is the fight for achievement that makes things -worth while. It is seldom though that a woman -comes to a realisation of so virile a philosophy of -life. There I go again," he said with a laugh. -"My purely masculine judgment of women! But -tell me of your experiences. I am sure you must -have things to tell which would be of great interest. -You have seen much of this sort of thing—this—what -our statesmen call diplomacy." -</p> - -<p> -Anna was nothing loath. In her inimitably -pretty way she told of her life from the time when -she first joined the Russian Imperial ballet, relating -incidents in her struggles as a dancer, but more of -her life as an agent of the secret service. She told -of a certain affair at Monte Carlo, when documents -had to be abstracted from a personage of royal -rank; of the theft and recovery of important naval -plans which had been the key to a significant and -tense international crisis. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton listened to her with an interest that was -all engrossing, but all the time there remained at -the back of his mind—despite her earlier -admonition—a sense of incongruity. There was -something irreconcilable with the accepted order of -things in this dainty butterfly doing the work which -kept nations from each other's throats, or helped -to precipitate them into conflict. -</p> - -<p> -As she talked the aforementioned Grim Official -stirred himself up to complete certain complications -that he had planned. He caused the Baroness -Draschol to leave the Princess Olga for a moment. -He impelled the latter to rise and stray into the hall. -He then brought the dancer to her feet with a rather -incredulous "How I have talked!" while she -almost unconsciously put both hands into Fenton's -and looked up into his face. -</p> - -<p> -Neither of them heard the soft swish of a skirt -in the hall. Neither of them knew that the curtains -had parted. -</p> - -<p> -"I have been so interested," said Fenton. "You -are really wonderful!" -</p> - -<p> -Then he turned in time to look into the rather -startled, rather incredulous, rather angry eyes of -Princess Olga. It was but for a moment, then the -curtains fell back into place, and the intruder, with -a murmured word of apology, had melted away again. -</p> - -<p> -Having thus succeeded in effecting the desired -situation, Fate & Co. proceeded briskly with what -was to follow. Varden was brought into the -library by another door, and into a most solemn -conference with Anna. A brief meeting was -engineered between Olga, the Baroness and Fenton, -during which the Princess, with the coldest of -courtesy, expressed her gratitude to Mr Fenton for -the part he had played in saving her father's life, -while Fenton, abashed and miserable, watched her -with adoring eyes and a tongue that refused to -attempt the difficult task of explanation. Then -a few precious moments were vouchsafed him -alone with her. Olga did not appear too well -pleased, but accepted the situation with good -grace. -</p> - -<p> -"Mr Fenton is staying long in Ironia?" she -asked politely. -</p> - -<p> -"I hardly know," replied the Canadian. "It -will depend upon circumstances. I thought I -might be useful here, but so far my presence has -only served to create trouble." -</p> - -<p> -"Perhaps we of Ironia do not understand your -ways," she said, looking him very steadily in the -eyes. "We may perhaps be too prone to take you -seriously in everything you do—and say." -</p> - -<p> -"Your highness, I trust you do not charge me -with insincerity," said Fenton earnestly. "I have -not been conscious of uttering a word which I have -not meant. Let me explain——" -</p> - -<p> -"It will be perhaps well for the simple maids of -Ironia if Mr Fenton does not stay too long," went -on the princess in even tones. "The strange new -ideas that he holds of love, and all pertaining -thereto, and the boldness of his address, might perhaps -impress too deeply such as did not realise he was -bent solely on amusement." -</p> - -<p> -"You do not understand," said Fenton, "and -you are unjust. You would understand if I -explained everything to you, but unfortunately I am -not permitted to do that. Matters of state are -involved." -</p> - -<p> -"Explanations are neither necessary nor desirable," -said Olga calmly. Then she extended her -hand lightly. "We may not meet again, Mr Fenton." -</p> - -<p> -The Canadian touched her hand with his lips, -then for a moment held it close in both of his. -"We shall meet again, your highness," he declared -confidently. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap11"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XI -<br /><br /> -THE ABDUCTION -</h3> - -<p> -The war riots continued in Serajoz with -ever-increasing violence. Following the unsatisfactory -events of the morning, Fenton spent several hours -in Varden's automobile on a mission that took him -to many parts of the city. -</p> - -<p> -Late in the afternoon he returned, to find his host -in a state of great perturbation. -</p> - -<p> -"Things are certainly happening thick and -fast," declared Varden. "The other side are -prepared to stop at nothing, Fenton. The princess -has been carried off!" -</p> - -<p> -Fenton, too stunned for speech, listened with his -mind in a turmoil, while Varden proceeded with a -hurried and disjointed explanation. A note had -just reached him from Anna Petrowa, containing -the startling information that an attempt at -abduction would be made. Shortly after two o'clock, on -the instructions issued by her royal father, Olga -had set out for Kail Baleski in a carriage with the -customary retinue for travel. In the meantime the -alert Anna had learned of a plan, formulated in the -Miridoff camp, to have the princess abducted on -the road and carried up to the hill country. -</p> - -<p> -"But," protested Fenton in angry amazement, -"what purpose can be served? It seems just as -senseless as it is incredible!" -</p> - -<p> -"The purpose is not hard to find," replied -Varden. "The princess will serve as a hostage. -Efforts will be made to force Prince Peter to -withdraw the pressure he is exerting on the King by -threats of violence to the princess. -</p> - -<p> -"Miridoff, of course, will not appear in this," -went on Varden. "It will be made to appear on -the surface that the abduction has been the work of -brigands. The princess will be carried up into the -hill country and not released until Peter has been -brought to terms." -</p> - -<p> -"But how do you know they have carried her -off? It is one thing to plan a daring coup of this -kind, and another to accomplish it." -</p> - -<p> -"As a matter of fact, Don, I don't suppose that -they have actually got their hands on her yet, but -there is no reason to suppose that they won't do so. -Carriage travel is slow in this country, and Olga -would hardly have reached Kail Baleski yet. As -that is practically the start of the hill country -they'll make the attempt thereabouts." -</p> - -<p> -"Then it's not too late," said Fenton with a -sense of partial relief. "I'm going to borrow your -machine. There's a chance that I can overtake her -in time." -</p> - -<p> -In another minute Fenton was settled in the -tonneau of the car, which rolled through the streets -of the Ironian capital with a speed that increased -as they neared the open country. -</p> - -<p class="thought"> -***** -<br /> -</p> - -<p> -Ironia is a country of extremes. Unusual wealth -rubs elbows with abject poverty. Grand palaces -line the Lodz in Serajoz, and in the narrow streets -close on either side human beings fight for a meagre -existence. -</p> - -<p> -The same rule of contrast holds with reference to -the Ironian character. The peasantry are honest, -hospitable, devout and ignorant. The upper -classes, the aristocracy, who control the mining -and industrial enterprises from which Ironian -wealth emanates, are sharp, clever and quite -unscrupulous. Only in the few old families which -had managed to escape extinction in the Turkish -wars does the innate nobility of the peasant -character, purified by education and refinement, show -itself. Peter was typical of the aristocratic -minority; Miridoff of the majority. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton discovered to what a sharp degree the -law of contrast was carried in this picturesque -country when the driver turned out of the crowded -streets of Serajoz and guided his car with a steadily -increasing hum along one of the wonderfully well -preserved Roman roads that run out in all directions -from the capital city, like the fingers of an -out-stretched land. Back in Serajoz every evidence -was to be seen of advanced civilisation. In the -country they soon passed out of the area where their -car was accepted as a matter of course. Fifteen -miles from the city their progress through the many -villages that dotted the road became marked by -confusion and clatter, the peasants staring in -open-mouthed amazement at the spectacle of the -fast-moving car. It was quite apparent that the -automobile was still an object of almost superstitious -wonder to these simple souls. -</p> - -<p> -The excitement which attended their progress -became more marked when the driver turned off -the main road and struck through a maze of -winding side-roads that circled along the foot-hills on -a gradually ascending grade. Crouched back in -the swaying tonneau, a prey to fear and worry, -Fenton made frequent use of the only Ironian word -that he had learned before starting on this headlong -pursuit, "Faster." The driver, who reverenced -the car with the same zeal that a Christian will -sometimes show in the study of an Oriental creed, -obeyed with gleeful alacrity. He had always -wanted to know just how fast it could be made to -go, this devil-wagon with its intricate buttons and -levers, the secrets of which he had studied in the -same spirit as he would have approached the -formulæ of a sorcerer. Having at last found a -passenger of the same frame of mind as himself, -Jaleski leaned over the wheel with a smile that -brought his beaked nose down with a still more -pronouncedly owl-like suggestion, and the wheels -fairly lifted off the ground. The car skimmed -along the curving highways; ascended steep grades -with a graceful ease of a powerful bird on the -wing; dashed through villages like a puffing, black -Juggernaut; and spread a trail of chattering, -fear-stricken peasantry in its wake. -</p> - -<p> -To Fenton the ecstatic Jaleski seemed like a -genie crouched over the edge of a magic carpet, -guiding it with supernatural speed across an -earthly continent. He expected that every minute -would be his last, though he made no effort to -stave off the impending doom. -</p> - -<p> -But Jaleski proved an artist at the wheel. He -brought the imagination of the East to the -manipulation of the levers and bars of the materialistic -West, and seemed to be able to coax extra speed -from them without relaxing his perfect control. He -appeared to tell by instinct just what lay beyond -the next bramble-obscured turn in the road. He -had an extra sense for knowing when to turn out -for unseen obstacles. Fenton began to feel that a -sorcerer was at the wheel. -</p> - -<p> -They came in record time to the quaint little -village of Kail Baleski, which shelters itself at the -very base of the foot-hills, and has not changed in -any detail for the last two hundred years. They -found the place in a state of wildest turmoil. -Crowds of villagers stood in the one street along -which the village straggles with a vague -suggestion of child-built blocks. As Jaleski regretfully -brought the car to a stop they were surrounded -by a mob who waved their arms and jabbered -incessantly. Jaleski picked the purport of it from -the babel of talk, and, turning a tragic face on his -passenger, endeavoured to relate the disturbing -news. -</p> - -<p> -After questioning him impatiently in imperfect -German, Fenton gave up the effort to establish -intelligent communication, and climbed from the -car. He reproached himself bitterly for having -started out on so important a mission without -bringing an interpreter along. -</p> - -<p> -Finally, however, he perceived a possible means -out of his dilemma. Walking down the street -toward them came the village priest, benevolent and -white-haired, in a worn cassock and rusty clerical -hat that bespoke either the poverty of the -neighbourhood or the ascetic character of the wearer. -The old priest's face was clouded with the same -trouble that stared so unmistakably and yet so -unintelligibly from the brown faces of the villagers. -Fenton addressed him eagerly in French, haltingly -in German and finally in English. And, wonder -of wonders, at the last attempt he found that he had -tuned his C.Q.D. message to the lingual receiver -of the old cleric. -</p> - -<p> -"I speak some Eenglish," said the priest slowly. -"Once was I in London. Your Milton and your -Shakespeare, of much have I read." -</p> - -<p> -"Fine, Father!" said Fenton, shaking the -priest's hand warmly, much to the amazement of -the villagers, who had backed away respectfully at -the approach of the shabby old man. "Can you -tell me what it's all about? Has anything -happened to her highness?" -</p> - -<p> -Slowly and haltingly the priest told him of the -happenings that had so upset the usually placid -village. Early in the morning a messenger had -come with the news that her highness, the Princess -Olga, was to arrive that day. Prompt preparations -had been started at the castle, the towers of which, -standing up above the dark tops of the trees, could -be dimly made out in the distance. An hour -before, the royal carriage had driven into the -village with a frightened driver, a partly stunned -serving-man and an hysterical maid-in-waiting—but -no princess. The equippage had been held up by -a band of armed men about two miles back on the -road. The Princess Olga had been taken from the -carriage, placed on a horse and carried off with -businesslike celerity. After frightening the -servants by a threat to shoot them, the band had -disappeared into the thickly wooded country through -which a narrow pack trail led up into the hills. -Such was the information that the padre retailed -with saddened inflection to Fenton. -</p> - -<p> -The latter, now that his worst fears were -confirmed, lost no time in deciding on his course of -action. He would first get whatever information -could be secured from the servants, and then strike -north for Kirkalisse, the northern estates of -Miridoff, to which Olga would probably be taken. He -was confident that he could cover the distance -during the night if a capable guide could be -secured. In the meantime he would send a -messenger to Varden with the news and urge that -assistance be supplied at once. -</p> - -<p> -With the priest in tow to act as interpreter, -Fenton interviewed the members of the prince's -household who had figured in the hold-up. They -gave voluble descriptions of the incident, but no -information that was of any value to the impatient -Canadian. The band had been very numerous, -very fierce and armed like so many living -arsenals—the serving people emphasised these facts with -much reiteration—but nothing more definite in the -way of a description could be obtained. The -driver of the carriage, who saw in Fenton one -whose version of the affair might carry weight, -poured into the Canadian's ear a verbal eruption -of harsh consonants which the priest interpreted as -a recital of the valiant fight that he (the driver) -and the other male member of the party had put -up before they allowed their beautiful mistress to -be carried off. -</p> - -<p> -"He must be a valiant fighter," declared Fenton, -"to maul these brigands the way he says he did -and come off without a scratch himself!" -</p> - -<p> -They were standing in front of the little village -inn, and consequently their words sounded quite -clearly on the street. He heard a sharp exclamation -from a dust-laden stranger who was plodding -his way wearily through the knots of villagers. -</p> - -<p> -"Great Scott! Is it English I hear?" cried -the stranger. -</p> - -<p> -Coming forward he deposited his bundle on the -road and shook Fenton's hand with every evidence -of keen delight. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap12"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XII -<br /><br /> -INTRODUCING PHIL CRANE -</h3> - -<p> -The new arrival was a man of possibly thirty years, -with twinkling blue eyes and brick-red hair. That -his clothes were made of the best material and were -cut by an English tailor were facts not to be -gain-said, even by their tattered and torn and generally -dilapidated condition. One sleeve of his coat was -in holes and scorched with powder. He was -hatless, and his hair, long and shaggy, tumbled -about his brow. There was no need to ask his -nationality. He was an Englishman—a travelled -Englishman—since the two are very different beings. -</p> - -<p> -"My name is Crane—Philip Aloysius Crane," -he announced as he vigorously gripped Fenton's -hand. -</p> - -<p> -"Donald Fenton, at your service," said the -Canadian. -</p> - -<p> -"I am speechless, floored for lack of suitable -words to express my delight at meeting someone -from the tight little island," declared Philip -Aloysius Crane. "You see I've been six months -without hearing a word of English spoken except -by myself—and in the state of mind I've been in -I've been able to express myself only in terms -of profanity. So you'll understand -these—er—ebullitions, my unwonted—er—exuberance." -</p> - -<p> -"You've got nothing on me just now," declared -Fenton. "I started out on an important mission -without knowing a word of Ironian, except the -equivalent for 'faster'—and with the kind of driver -I had that was the one word I didn't need. I'm -just beginning to realise that I'm practically -stranded." -</p> - -<p> -"Then I'm just the man you're looking for," -said Crane. "I talk Ironian like a native; or -no, hardly that. I talk it with my tongue and not -with my shoulders and eyebrows. If I can -be of any service to you as interpreter, command me." -</p> - -<p> -"I've got to find my way into the hill country," -explained Fenton. "If you could come along -with me it would solve the difficulty. But first I -ought to explain to you that it might prove a pretty -dangerous business." -</p> - -<p> -Crane's weary face lighted up under its coating -of dust. -</p> - -<p> -"Danger! Why, my dear boy, that's what I've -lived on for the last six months," he declared. -"Goodness knows, it's about all I've had in -way of sustenance up there in the oil country -lately." -</p> - -<p> -"The oil country?" This questioningly. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. You see I'm an engineer and supposed -to know something about oil. If you know anything -of this country you are aware that they have -some big oil wells in the north-west section. As a -matter of fact they've got about the finest certified -gold mine in those same oil fields that I've ever -seen, especially since the war broke out, and they've -been able to sell petroleum to Austria and Germany -at war prices. -</p> - -<p> -"Another Englishman and myself signed on -here three years ago," he went on. "All the work -is done under the superintendence of imported -engineers, mostly Austrian and German. Redfield -and I were the only Englishmen there, and he left -over a year ago—lucky beggar! When the war -broke out things got pretty uncomfortable for me. -You see, the owners didn't want to lose the profits -they make on shipping oil across the border, and -for that reason they've been fighting tooth and nail -to keep the country neutral. I came under -suspicion naturally and I suppose I was pretty -outspoken. I had a dust-up pretty nearly every day -with some of the others, and finally, when I tried -to get out of the country to go home and enlist, -they clapped me into jail. That was six months -ago, and I've been there ever since—a filthy hole -with a wooden bench as a bed and a family of toads -as company. Four days ago I persuaded one of -the guards—with the bench—to let me go. I got -away safely enough, but one of the other guards -nearly potted me. Since then I've been beating -my way back to civilisation, begging from the -peasants and sleeping under the glorious panoply of -heaven. I haven't a cent in my pockets. I haven't -even a hat. Perhaps you will now appreciate the -faint stirring of pleasure that came over me when I -met a man who talked English—and had a motor-car!" -</p> - -<p> -Fenton decided that he liked this Englishman -and that he could safely trust him. Accordingly -he told Crane something of the mission which was -taking him to the hill country. -</p> - -<p> -"Suits me down to the ground," said Crane, -gripping Fenton's hand again. "I'll go along -as interpreter—anything at all so long as I get my -share of the scrapping. I've acquired a grouch -against the whole country that won't work off until -I've battered my fists on some honest Ironian -faces. I've stayed here six months at their wish; -now I'll stay a few days longer on my own account -and wipe off a few scores. Besides I came out -here with a sneaking hope that I'd meet with -romantic adventures of the Anthony Hope brand—you -know, pink the prince and marry the beautiful -lady-in-waiting and all that sort of thing. So far, -the only Ironian women I've met have been honest -peasant bodies who looked on sour milk as a luxury." -</p> - -<p> -At this point the old priest approached them and -intimated that it had been his intention to ask Mr -Fenton to partake of his humble fare, and perhaps -the new-comer, too, would join them. -</p> - -<p> -They accepted; Crane with a readiness that spoke -eloquently of the length of his fast. Fenton then -hastily scribbled a note to Varden and handed it to -Jaleski. -</p> - -<p> -"Tell him, Crane," he said, "that he's to get -back to Serajoz as fast as he can do it with any -degree of safety. Tell him it's a matter of life -and death, but that he isn't to run any risk -of killing himself till after he's delivered that -note." -</p> - -<p> -Crane relayed the message to Jaleski, who -acknowledged it with a deep obeisance and climbed -with alacrity into the driver's seat. The car glided -off and, with rapidly increasing speed, vanished -into the distance. The cloud of dust that marked -its course showed that Jaleski had understood fully -the first part of the message, if not the last. -</p> - -<p> -"Lord help anyone or anything that gets on the -road between here and Serajoz this day!" said -Fenton. -</p> - -<p> -They followed the priest to a vine-covered cottage -standing beside the village church. On entering -they found themselves in a small room, scrupulously -clean and reflecting an atmosphere almost -of culture despite the cheapness of the sparse -furnishings. A table and several wooden chairs -and a small case of unsized boards containing a -few ancient, much-used books were the chief articles -that the room contained. At one end was a stone -fireplace, blackened by the smoke of many score -years. On the mantle above was a large crucifix. -The table was set for a frugal supper of dried -goat meat, black bread and fruit. The priest, with -an air of earnest courtesy that might have graced -the most sumptuous of banquets, bade his guests be -seated. A silent serving-woman of rare old age -but unimpaired activity placed two extra plates and -the necessary knives and forks. Neither Fenton -nor Crane needed any second bidding to fall to, -for the former's appetite had been whetted on the -trip from the capital, and the latter had reached the -stage where a piece of dried leather would have -seemed a toothsome morsel. The priest ate -sparingly himself and watched the prodigious efforts -of his young guests with a benevolent smile lurking -in the fine wrinkles that time had written around -eyes and mouth. -</p> - -<p> -"Reverend Father, I shall always rank you a -good first on my list of benefactors!" declared -Crane with fervour when the last shred of food -had been consumed. "I've sat down to many a -fine meal in my time, but the memory of this will -remain with me to my dying day. You've saved -my life." -</p> - -<p> -"What it is to be young," assented the priest, -with a gracious delight in the exercise of his -hospitality. "When youth and the good appetite -together go even the coarse fare of a humble priest -can seem good. My sons, it pleases me much your -company to have." -</p> - -<p> -"The pleasure is more than mutual," said Crane. -"I assure you, Father, that I shall tear myself away -with great reluctance. I shudder at the thought of -our trip back into that hill country again. It is -rough up there." -</p> - -<p> -"I have a friend in the hill country," said the -priest. "A letter you shall take to him and the best -he has shall be yours." -</p> - -<p> -Fenton, who had regretted every moment spent -in the satisfying of even so clamorous a possession -as his appetite, now made a motion to get up. -</p> - -<p> -"Father, you know the urgency of our mission, -and will not think ill of us if we lose no time -in setting out," he declared. "The life of the -Princess Olga may depend upon our promptness." -</p> - -<p> -The old priest restrained him with upraised hand, -speaking in a low and cautious tone. -</p> - -<p> -"A word in your ear, my son," he said. "It -would be well to depart when no one sees. It shall -be given out that you stay as my guests to-night. -After night falls you leave with a guide that I find." -</p> - -<p> -"You mean that we might be spied upon?" -asked Fenton. -</p> - -<p> -The priest hesitated. -</p> - -<p> -"Differences of opinion are found even in such -small hamlets as ours," he said, with a trace of -sadness. "Those are here—those who might -carry word ahead of your coming." -</p> - -<p> -"You know best, I guess," said Fenton, -endeavouring to accept the priest's dictum with as -little impatience as possible. "But how can I -stay here when I know she is in danger—that every -minute counts?" -</p> - -<p> -"It's common sense, though, Fenton," broke -in Crane. "I've lived in the country long enough -to know that you've got to keep your business -strictly to yourself. In a matter of this kind you -can't be too cautious. If you want to be of real -assistance in this matter you'll have to keep cool -for a few hours." -</p> - -<p> -Fenton, who had risen during the discussion, sat -down again. The kindly priest laid a wrinkled -hand on his arm with a gesture that was almost a -benediction. -</p> - -<p> -"Listen, my son," he said. "By this time she -whose safety we all wish above everything else in -the world far away has been carried. A man of -God who has brought the message to our people -for fifty years, has baptised the children, married -the young people and shriven the dying, knows -much that goes on of which he cannot speak. A -guide I know who will take you where the Princess -Olga is, and also he will lead you to where is found -Take Larescu." -</p> - -<p> -"Larescu!" cried Crane in so loud a tone that -the priest glanced anxiously around and laid a -warning finger on his lips. "You mean the -famous leader of the brigands, the king of the hills, -the man who defies any authority but his own, but -who volunteered under another name and fought -in the Ironian army as a private all through the -Turkish War?" -</p> - -<p> -The priest answered him in guarded tones, but -with an inflection of pride that no need for caution -could subdue. -</p> - -<p> -"Take Larescu is great patriot, great warrior, -great friend of my people, the poor peasants," he -said. "Larescu has fought the rich nobles, he has -robbed and, God forgive him, has killed. He has -sinned much, but his good deeds are as the trees in -the great forest. When the war for the lost land -comes Larescu will be at the front of battle. He -is wise, he knows much of the great world. He -can save our princess, young sir. To Larescu -must you go first." -</p> - -<p> -"The people who live in the mountains are -almost a different race from the rest of the people -of Ironia," explained Crane to Fenton. "They're -a wild lot, with a gipsy strain in them. The -government of Ironia has completely failed to -impose any legal restraints on them. They have -their own customs, their own laws, and a chief who -rules them as absolutely as any king that ever lived. -But if war breaks out they'll go and fight for Ironia -to a man. And, Lord, how they can fight! Their -chief, Take Larescu, is a giant who can take on -any three ordinary men. I've heard stories of the -wonderful things he has done that you wouldn't -believe, but which I know are more than half true. -Larescu is a combination of Theseus and Robin -Hood, with a dash of D'Artagnan thrown in. If -our host can enlist his sympathies the rescue of the -lost princess will develop into a pleasant little picnic -party." -</p> - -<p> -The three men sat around the table and conversed -in low tones as the shades of evening settled down, -the priest chaining the interest of his guests with -tales of Ironia's turbulent history, stories of -Turkish oppression, of wars fought for liberty, of -feudal strife and internecine struggle. In broken -phrases that somehow embraced a graphic power -of vivid portrayal, he told the life story of a -down-trodden people only now groping on the threshold -of nationhood. -</p> - -<p> -"Drive the nobility and the oilcrats out of Ironia -and you'd have the makings of a great nation," -said Crane, taking up the thread of narrative where -the priest left it. He proceeded to give a more -detailed account of his own experiences, telling of -the vast extent of the oil-fields and the huge profits -that the owners were making. An Ironian -workman received a few pence a day, doing the work -for which a man elsewhere would receive as many -dollars. The discipline was severe, almost as rigid, -in fact, as in a penal institution. The law stopped -practically at the boundary of the oil country; -within that limit the word of the owners was law. -</p> - -<p> -The priest listened silently, bowing his head in -sad assent to many of the statements that the young -Englishman made. Fenton also was silent, hearing -but little of the conversation. He sat back in -his chair and gloomily conjured up pictures of Olga -in the power of the arch-villain, Miridoff. And -Wellington, on the crucial field of Waterloo, did -not long for night with greater intensity than did -Fenton for the descent of the sheltering darkness -which would enable him to start out on his quest. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap13"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XIII -<br /><br /> -IN THE HILL COUNTRY -</h3> - -<p> -It was after ten when they quietly emerged from -the house of the old priest. The sky was overcast -so that not a star showed. A peasant silently -emerged from the shadows at the side of the road -and placed himself before them, hat in hand. -</p> - -<p> -"Sashu will take you to Larescu," said the -priest. "You can depend upon him. He is a -peasant from the estate of his highness, the Prince -Peter, and would give his life willingly for any -member of the family." -</p> - -<p> -"Father, you have indeed been a friend in need -to us. I wish I could repay a small share of what -we owe you," said Fenton, his hand straying -toward his pocket. -</p> - -<p> -Crane noticed the movement and nudged him -under cover of the darkness. "Not that," he -whispered. "They are very proud, these Ironians, -and very glad at all times to offer hospitality. You -would mortally insult him." -</p> - -<p> -"Perhaps," said Fenton hastily, "there is something -we could procure for the church—a new altar -cloth, say. I would like to do something for your -people in that way, Father. Suppose I leave the -matter in your hands. If this is not sufficient we -could fix it up on our return trip." -</p> - -<p> -The old priest accepted the money that Fenton -proffered with an eagerness that showed how deeply -he had been touched. He thanked them earnestly, -explaining that there were many things he could -purchase with the donation. They struck off into -the darkness with his parting benediction following -them. -</p> - -<p> -For a long time they tramped on in silence. -Sashu, their guide, led the way along rough -country side-roads, Fenton and Crane following -side by side. After covering about half a mile in -this way the villager turned abruptly to the left and -led them up a winding path directly into the -heavily wooded approach to the hills. The -walking now became very difficult as the grade was a -steep one and the ground rough. The two men -began a conversation, but lack of breath rendered -it spasmodic. Finally they reached a wider and -fairly even road on which the ascent was more -gradual. -</p> - -<p> -"By the beetling eyebrows of Beelzebub!" -gasped Crane. "Another hundred yards and -I'd have been knocked out. The food you get -in an Ironian jail doesn't fit you for -mountain-climbing." -</p> - -<p> -"I wouldn't mind the grade so much if the moon -would only show itself," said Fenton, whose -determination to get on to their journey's end had -carried him through the ascent with less difficulty. -"If we could only see where we were going we -could make something like decent time over these -hills. Our guide doesn't seem to be having any -difficulty." -</p> - -<p> -"An Ironian peasant can see in the dark," -asserted Crane. "They're a queer lot—a good -deal like animals in some ways. They don't look -much farther into the future than the next square -meal. When his stomach's full your peasant has -just one ambition—to curl up in the sun and go to -sleep. Beat him and he'll do your bidding like a -sullen donkey, and the first time you come within -kicking distance he puts his heels into you, -figuratively speaking. Treat him well and he'll die for -you like a faithful dog." -</p> - -<p> -"Perhaps you could get something out of this -picturesque fellow ahead of us," suggested Fenton. -"Find out from him where we're going and when -we can expect to get there." -</p> - -<p> -"I don't think it would be much use," said -Crane doubtfully. "The Sphinx is a positive -chatterbox compared with one of these peasants. -You have to treat them like electors; prime them -with a gallon or two of extra strong liquor before -you can pump anything out of them. I don't -suppose you have anything of the kind handy?" -</p> - -<p> -"No," replied Fenton. "That was another -thing I forgot to equip myself with before starting -out. It has just occurred to me too that I neglected -to bring along a revolver. We're not very well -equipped for an expedition of this kind." -</p> - -<p> -Crane stopped short, and indulged in a hearty, -unrestrained laugh. -</p> - -<p> -"Fenton," he said, as soon as he recovered, -"I'll wager you've kept your guardian angel -working night shifts ever since you were born. -By the twisted horn of the off ox of Ind! You -start up into a mountainous country teeming with -blood-thirsty brigands in pursuit of a band of -villains who've carried off a princess—and with no -other weapons than those with which nature was -good enough to provide you. You accept the services -of the first guide offered and, if his villainous -visage is any indication of what we can expect -from him, he'll cut our throats the first chance -he gets." -</p> - -<p> -"You don't need to come any farther," said -Fenton, with some heat. "I warned you in the -first place that it might be a dangerous mission." -</p> - -<p> -"Don't misunderstand me," pleaded Crane. -"This is only my way of expressing admiration. -It's not so much that I admire courage as that I -bow humbly before originality whenever I meet it. -And lord, man, you are certainly original! I'll -wager no one has ever tackled a job like this one -before. But don't think I'm not as keen for the -trip as ever. The longer the odds the better I like -it. Only—I think it would be advisable under all -the circumstances if I got as much information as I -could out of the pleasant-looking cut-throat ahead." -</p> - -<p> -He called to their guide in Ironian, and Sashu's -deep voice answered from the darkness ahead of -them. Crane quickened his pace until he had -drawn even with the villager and for a space of -ten minutes they talked. Sashu answered Crane's -questions volubly. The latter then dropped back -again. -</p> - -<p> -"Friend Sashu is the exception that proves the -rule of Ironian taciturnity," he stated. "He avers -that we'll reach the place we're making for some -time between now and morning." -</p> - -<p> -"And where is he taking us?" asked Fenton. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, he seemed rather vague on that point," -acknowledged Crane, "or perhaps cross-examination -isn't my long suit. I didn't get a great deal -of information out of him on that point. In fact, -not any. These natives are as close as oysters -about the haunts and movements of Take Larescu." -</p> - -<p> -"Then we are really being taken to the -headquarters of this brigand chief?" -</p> - -<p> -"We're headed that way," said Crane, "and -likely to arrive provided we don't slip off a -precipice on the way or meet any wandering parties -of brigands. These hill billies have the pleasant -habit of potting at you first and inquiring about -you afterward." -</p> - -<p> -"To think of the princess being in the power of -these people!" groaned Fenton. "Say, Crane, -can't we travel faster than this? Tell the guide we -can't dawdle along this way any longer." -</p> - -<p> -"It wouldn't be safe to go any faster, not in -this darkness," protested the engineer. "Do you -realise that the path we are on now is just four feet -wide and that one false step would take us back to -where we started from in about three seconds?" -</p> - -<p> -Nevertheless, they responded to Fenton's -impatience by quickening their pace and, in silence -again, climbed higher and farther into the rough -hill country. Sometimes they had a clear, even -path, but more often Sashu led them along -narrow ledges where the footing even in the -daylight would have been precarious, so that they had -to grasp hands and feel cautiously ahead before -making a step. Sometimes they left the trail -entirely and clambered up over the rocks, guided by -husky directions from Sashu and sometimes assisted -bodily by the guide. It was gruelling work, and in -a short time the two westerners were muscle weary -and puffing for breath. Fenton urged himself -along after the last ounce of physical initiative had -left him by conjuring up lurid pictures of the -Princess Olga in the power of the unscrupulous -Miridoff. Even when so weak that he had to clutch -several times at a rock before gaining a hold, -Fenton was able to spur himself on to increased -speed by the thoughts of the possible dire -consequences of delay. -</p> - -<p> -They had finished a particularly difficult climb -over a rocky promontory that projected across the -path. Sashu cautiously swung himself down until -his feet touched the narrow ledge of the path on -the other side. Fenton followed suit, releasing one -hand from its tenacious grasp of the rock while he -slowly let his weight down. Unable to bear the -full strain, the other hand lost its grip and, with -a gasp of horror, Fenton felt himself slipping. He -lunged frantically for a saving hold with the free -hand, but the effort came too late. He continued -to slip and came down so rapidly that, when one -foot struck on the edge of the narrow ledge, his -weight and the momentum of his fall threw him -outward. -</p> - -<p> -At such moments the mind acts with lightning -rapidity. In the brief second that precedes a -plunge to death, the events of a lifetime can flash -in fleeting panorama through the human consciousness. -Fenton thought of Olga, of the helpless -position in which his death would leave her, of -Varden, of Ironia and the war—and again of Olga. -And then his downward, headlong fall was arrested, -brought to a stop with a jarring, crushing violence! -He felt a sharp pain in his head, and then -darkness closed in. -</p> - -<p> -When Fenton regained consciousness he found -himself stretched full length on a ledge of rough -rock. His left arm was hanging partly over the -ledge. Soon he became aware of numbness and a -racking pain in his head. The darkness of night -had given way to the dull grey of early dawn, by -which token Fenton knew that some hours had -elapsed since his fall. -</p> - -<p> -He groaned and shifted himself slightly with a -painful effort. For a few moments he remained -perfectly still, collecting his strength, and then raised -his voice in a call for help. Immediately he heard -an exclamation from above and a dark object -showed against the grey of the wall of rock that shut -off all view of the sky on one side of him. Fenton -focused his wandering glance on this object and -it finally resolved itself into a head peering over -the ledge of the path higher up. -</p> - -<p> -"Fenton! Where are you?" the voice of -Crane floated down to him. -</p> - -<p> -"Here," he called back. The hammering -pain in his head made his voice seem small and far -away. -</p> - -<p> -It was several moments before the voice of Crane -again reached his ears. "I see you now," he cried. -"Thank heaven you're safe, old man! I've been -sitting up here for a century waiting for dawn so -that I could get down below and hunt for your -body. Sashu left ages ago for help and ought to -be back any time now. Are you badly hurt?" -</p> - -<p> -"I think my head's broken," replied Fenton -faintly, "and I suspect other injuries." -</p> - -<p> -His voice apparently did not carry to the ledge -above, for Crane went right on: "Cheer up, -Fenton! I'll have you up out of there in no time. -I believe I can see a path leading down there some -distance ahead! Just keep easy in your mind and -I'll soon be with you." -</p> - -<p> -There was a long silence after that. Several -times Fenton called but got no answer. The pain -in his head became wellnigh unbearable. When -he had just about convinced himself that the -presence of Crane on the ledge above had been -purely a figment of his fevered imagination, he -heard a voice from behind. -</p> - -<p> -"Here I come, Fenton. I don't believe anything -but a bird ever negotiated this path before, but, by -the tail of the sacred cow, such trifles as narrow -ledges and the laws of gravitation can't thwart -Philip Aloysius Crane! And what's more, we're -both going back the way I came." -</p> - -<p> -There was a short interval during which Fenton -heard laboured breathing and the sharp impact of -Crane's heavy shoes on the rocks, gradually -drawing nearer, and then he felt a hand on his -forehead. -</p> - -<p> -"How are you, anyway?" asked Crane. -"Don't think I was ever so thankful in all my life -as when I heard your voice. I had given you up, -of course. I sat up there on the rocks for three -solid hours waiting for daylight so that I could do -something, and I hope I never put in such a night -again. Can you sit up?" he went on, quite -cheerfully now. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton exerted himself and, with the help of a -powerful tug from his companion, struggled into -a sitting position. He felt very weak and dizzy -still, but his ability to move convinced him that -he had sustained no serious injuries. -</p> - -<p> -"Fine!" exclaimed Crane with enthusiasm. -"You're a long way from dead yet. Here, I -want your belt." -</p> - -<p> -He took the belts from around his own and -Fenton's waist and dexterously knotted them -together. Then, slipping one arm under Fenton's -shoulders, he helped him to his feet. Turning -quickly he drew the latter's right arm around his -neck and strapped him to his back with the belts. -</p> - -<p> -"I'm too heavy a load for you," protested -Fenton. "Strapped up this way I'll be able to -walk all right. Let's try it anyway." -</p> - -<p> -Crane straightened up until Fenton's feet touched -the rock again. The latter's strength was slowly -coming back, and after a moment's hesitation -he stepped out. Thus slowly and uncertainly, -with locked step, Fenton buoyed up by the pressure -of the strap, they negotiated the steep pathway. -Every few yards they paused to allow Fenton to -regain his strength, and as the grade increased, -these stops became more frequent and of longer -duration. The path was a narrow and winding -one that would have tried the skill and daring of -an Alpine guide. It was plentifully interspersed -with sharp corners, around which they edged with -the utmost care, and rocks over which they laboriously -climbed. A terrific strain was imposed on -Crane, for there were times when he had to practically -carry his companion, and the brunt of working -their way over the obstructions and around sharp -corners fell entirely on his shoulders. All that -Fenton was capable of was an automatic power of -motion. Several times they were on the verge of -collapse into the yawning chasm, but on each -occasion the coolness and intrepidity of Crane -saved them. And in time they won their way to -the top, though the feat had seemed practically -impossible at the outset. -</p> - -<p> -"Didn't think we could do it!" gasped Crane, -as he dragged his companion over the edge of the -road to safety. He fumbled with almost nerveless -fingers at the belts, and when the knot was -unloosed, two inert masses of flesh and bone sank -limply on the rough surface of the rock. The path -at this point was fairly wide, so that they could -recline upon it with perfect safety. For a long -time they lay there without a move, too exhausted -even to speak. Finally Fenton turned a little toward -his companion and stretched out his arm. -</p> - -<p> -"You're a wonder, Phil," he said. -</p> - -<p> -Crane sat up and gripped Fenton's hand. "A -mere trifle, Don," he said. Then he gave vent to -to a glad halloa. "Here comes Sashu and a whole -male chorus of brigands! I was beginning to think -it was time he got back." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap14"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XIV -<br /><br /> -TAKE LARESCU -</h3> - -<p> -The hill people of Ironia were counted as giants, -and their leader, Take Larescu, was a giant among -them. He stood four inches over six foot, with -the proportions generally of a grizzly bear. His -head, carried at a dignified elevation, was covered -with a red cap, closely approximating the Turkish -fez in shape, and allowing a mop of curly black -hair to protrude all around. If in his physical -make-up he resembled the bear, his face showed -a close approach to the fierce and noble lines of the -eagle. With bold, commanding eye, heavy, hooked -nose, and long black moustache, he gave more than -a suggestion of imperturbable dignity and -high-reaching ambition, while the general expression of -his face showed determination, ruthless strength -and cruelty. He was dressed in the usual costume -of the Ironian, with broad white trousers and -many-coloured blouse, and carried a brace of pistols in -his belt. An incongruous touch was lent by an -ornate scarab watch fob which dangled from his -belt between the ivory-mounted pistols. If one cared -to inspect this mountainous figure of a man in -detail, further incongruities were brought to light -in the heavy European boots and the knitted -under-garment which showed beneath his voluminous -sleeves. -</p> - -<p> -Take Larescu stood on the side of a precipitous -hill and watched a file of men slowly winding their -way up toward him. His keen eye had already -noted that the approaching party included two -strangers, who from their clothing were apparently -foreigners. The leader of the hill tribes did -not waste much time in fruitless speculation as to -the probable identity of the two new-comers, but, -feeling in the loose folds of his scarlet sash, -produced a decidedly modern-looking pair of -field-glasses. Focussing them on the distant figures of -the men toiling up the hill, he studied them intently -for a few minutes. "Both Americans," was his -mentally registered verdict as he closed the glasses -and carefully replaced them in the ample store-room -of his belt. Then from the belt he produced -a cigarette and match, and later still an amber -mouthpiece. The capacity of Larescu's sash was -a constant source of wonder to those who came in -contact with him. One could not help speculating -as to what he would produce next. -</p> - -<p> -The path up which the approaching party -laboriously climbed brought them to the crest of the -opposing slope, which was connected with the steep -eminence on which he stood by a causeway formed -by the fallen trunk of a huge tree. Hidden in the -dense wood behind him, a handful of men could -have held this position against an army. Moving -with the apparent leisure of extreme ponderosity, -Larescu took up his position at the end of the -causeway, a formidable Horatius capable of holding the -bridge against any odds. His new position was -not taken for purposes of defence, however. In a -booming voice he called out a gruff but hearty -greeting. -</p> - -<p> -Larescu studied the two strangers closely as they -stepped cautiously across the fallen tree trunk. -One was a tall, broad-shouldered young man, with -an unhatted shock of fair hair. A blood-stained -rag bound around his head indicated that this -member of the party had met with an accident. -The other stranger was shorter and broader, with a -free and careless air, a much-freckled face and hair -of flaming red. They in turn studied Take Larescu -with an even greater degree of interest. -</p> - -<p> -"Observe the comic opera Hercules," whispered -Crane to Fenton. -</p> - -<p> -"Good morning, gentlemen," said Larescu, -speaking in English. "I am indeed delighted -to have you as my guests. You, sir, I regret to -note, have had an accident." -</p> - -<p> -The two travellers stared. -</p> - -<p> -If the Statue of Liberty ever took upon itself to -voice a message of welcome to incoming ships, the -passengers would not feel a more complete degree -of amazement than that which Fenton and Crane -experienced on hearing this cordial message, -phrased in the most perfect English, fall from the -lips of this fierce and uncouthly apparelled brigand. -</p> - -<p> -"Good morning," replied Fenton, recovering -himself with an effort. "Yes, I had the misfortune -to make a false step at a critical part of the trail. -If it hadn't been for my friend here, I would be -still lying where I fell. Am I addressing Take -Larescu?" -</p> - -<p> -"You are, sir," replied the Ironian, inclining -his huge bulk in a courteous bow. "You are -standing at the present moment where foot of any -but Ironian has never before rested. That your -mission is an important one I am assured, else my -people would not have seen fit to escort you here. -You are doubly welcome, sirs, if you bring news." -</p> - -<p> -"Shades of Chesterfield!" said Crane to himself. -"This isn't real life. If the orchestra doesn't -tune up for a solo by the bass lead in a second -or so, I'll know that I'm dreaming!" -</p> - -<p> -Fenton in the meantime was fumbling in his coat -pockets for a letter that the worthy priest had given -him for the ruler of the hill country. He handed -it over to Larescu, who immediately broke the seal -and read the contents. At the conclusion he -addressed them with even more cordiality than before. -</p> - -<p> -"Mr Fenton, I am glad to know you, and you -too, Mr Crane. You are just in time for breakfast. -But before we sit down I shall look to your injuries, -Mr Fenton." -</p> - -<p> -He led the way back through the trees for some -distance until they came to a low-lying, roughly -finished house, with nothing on the outside to -distinguish it from the typical Ironian abode excepting -its size. Inside, however, they found cause for -fresh astonishment. The room in which they found -themselves might well have belonged to an -Englishman of wealth and refinement. The walls were -lined with well-filled bookcases and excellent -engravings. There were plenty of comfortable leather -chairs, and a thick rug covered the floor. Fenton -and Crane looked the surprise they felt. -</p> - -<p> -"You did not think to find anything of this -kind up here in the hills?" chuckled the giant. -"Yet if an abode of super-luxury could be -concealed in the grottoes of Monte Carlo, why should -you be surprised at finding such simple possessions -as these in the mountains of Ironia? But I must -not waste words while you, sir, are in such need of -attention." -</p> - -<p> -In another minute glasses of strong spirits had -been placed before his two guests. Fenton felt a -grateful warmth steal over him as he drained his -glass. With almost professional deftness, Larescu -examined the injuries that Fenton had sustained -in his fall and adjusted fresh bandages. -</p> - -<p> -"I know a little of medicine and surgery," he -said, "and look after the health of my people. But -now for breakfast, gentlemen." -</p> - -<p> -They sat down to a meal of remarkable substantiality, -backed up by excellent coffee. Fenton ate -as well as his physical condition permitted. Crane, -as he put it, made up for lost time; but together -they could not equal the gastronomic feats of their -host. The giant finished dish after dish with the -appetite of a grizzly emerging from his long -winter sleep. His table manners were as finicky -and perfect as his capacity was immeasurable. -</p> - -<p> -During the meal, which threatened to extend -well on into the forenoon, Larescu talked on a -wide range of subjects, giving an insight into the -unique life that he led. He had travelled considerably. -Each year he quietly vanished from his hill -haunts and spent two months or more in the larger -cities of Western Europe. He spoke French and -German as well as English. He had studied -medicine in London and Vienna, electricity in Berlin, -and the art of living well in Paris. He was an -omnivorous reader, and had magazines and papers -brought to him at all times of the year. He knew -something of music, much of philosophy and art, -and all that there was to know on the subject of the -government of primitive people. The wonder of -his guests grew with each minute. -</p> - -<p> -"I am telling you things about myself of which -no one in Ironia, with the exception of my personal -followers, has any idea," he confided to them. -"In Serajoz they know me only as the leader of -the hill people—and a rather good fighting man. -You are the first guests from the outside world to -sit at my table, and I have told you all this, serene -in the knowledge that not a word shall go outside -this room." -</p> - -<p> -They hastened to assure him that his confidence -would be respected completely. Larescu then went -on to tell them of his work with the hill tribes; -how he made and administered their laws, adjusted -all differences that arose between individuals and -even on occasions officiated at the marriage rites -over the tongs, for the hill people, although -intensely religious in many ways, still clung to -customs that marked their blood relationship to the -gipsy. -</p> - -<p> -Finally, having completed his breakfast, Larescu -shoved back his chair. His manner changed at -once. "Now for business," he said briskly, even -sharply. "My reverend friend, for whose opinion -I have most high regard, has commended you to -me. In what way can I be of service to you?" -</p> - -<p> -Fenton hesitated a moment before replying. -Divining quickly and accurately the reason for -his guest's hesitancy, Larescu rose and, walking -over to his secretary, fumbled through the contents -of one of the pigeon-holes until he found a certain -letter. This he placed in Fenton's hands. -</p> - -<p> -"I judged from the padre's letter that your -errand was in a certain sense a political one," he -said. "Read this letter. It is from Prince Peter -and will allay any uncertainties which you may -have entertained with reference to my sympathies -and trustworthiness." -</p> - -<p> -A hasty glance through the letter convinced -Fenton that not only did Larescu stand high in -the regard of Prince Peter, but that he had pledged -himself to the cause that Peter was championing. -</p> - -<p> -"You must pardon me," he said to their host, -"but the fact that I have been in this country a -few days only is perhaps sufficient excuse for -caution. I had only the assurance of the priest of -Kail Baleski as to where you stood." -</p> - -<p> -He then told Larescu of what he had heard in -the gardens of the royal palace on the night of the -ball, of the attempts on his own life and later on -that of Prince Peter, of the carrying off of the -Princess Olga, and finally of his own headlong -pursuit. Crane, who had previously known little of -the object of their journey, other than the mere -fact that the princess had been abducted, hearkened -to the recital with keenest interest and every -evidence of excitement. The effect on Take Larescu -was even more marked. He listened with a scowl -that darkened as fresh evidence of the perfidy of -Miridoff was brought forward. At the conclusion -he thumped the table with his huge fist and swore -with mighty Ironian oaths that he would not leave -a stone standing at Kirkalisse. -</p> - -<p> -"The Duke Miridoff is a double-eyed traitor!" -he declared. "For German gold he would barter -his country's opportunity to regain her lost -provinces. I have a long score to settle with Miridoff. -He has shown bitter animosity to the people of the -hills. Three of my men were hanged at Serajoz -ten months ago for a raid that his exactions had -provoked. But now the day of reckoning has -come! How is it your proverb goes?—This is the -last straw that causes the worm to turn!" -</p> - -<p> -The lust of conflict and the primitive craving for -revenge showed in every line of the gigantic chief. -The veneer of civilisation sloughed off. His eyes -flashed, his nostrils dilated, and as he stood up -his mighty arms swung menacingly like heavy -flails. -</p> - -<p> -"By to-night I can have three thousand of my -men before the gates of Kirkalisse!" he declared. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap15"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XV -<br /><br /> -THE TRUMP CARD -</h3> - -<p> -The sun crept behind a distant mountain peak. In -this country of little twilight the transition from -day into night was speedy, and almost as Olga -watched from her window the last rays seemed to -vanish; symbol to her of the vanishing of hope and -the encroachment of she knew not what. -</p> - -<p> -She reflected, as she sat there by the window, -on the events of the night before. Following her -capture by a band of brigands, she had been -convoyed through the hill country by a trail almost -as difficult as that which Fenton and Crane had -followed. They had arrived in the dense darkness -of night at an old building perched on the crest of -one of the highest peaks—apparently a disused -hunting lodge. The fears of the princess, which -had increased with each hour spent on the trail, were -somewhat allayed when she found there were a -couple of maids in the lodge. But while that was -comforting in one respect, the fact that they -evidently knew and respected her rank proved to her -that it was no band of mountain marauders who -had carried her off. The girls were not gipsies. -Her first thought that she would be held for a -ransom was replaced by a feeling of vague -uncertainty. -</p> - -<p> -The lodge had not been used for some time, -although several of the rooms had been hastily -furnished; furnished too with a certain degree of -elegance. This was an added circumstance which -provided the princess with scope for uneasy -speculation as to her present position and the likely -developments of the future. In a vague way -she began to realise the motive behind her -abduction. -</p> - -<p> -Any doubts that may have lingered had vanished -at noon that day with the arrival of a young -woman who rode up a wide path around the mountain -side from the opposite direction to that along -which the princess had been brought. The -new-comer was received with every evidence of respect -by the two dusky brigands who guarded the lodge. -Watching from the window of a room on the -ground floor, which had been appropriated to her -as a bedroom, Olga had felt a sudden stirring of -resentment when she recognised in the fair stranger -the woman to whom Fenton had been so attentive—the -woman, moreover, who had involved him in -a restaurant brawl and for whose sake he had been -prepared to fight a duel. If Olga were still ignorant -of the real nature and the depth of her interest -in the Canadian, she must surely have been astonished -at the jealous promptings which took possession -of her as she surreptitiously regarded the -dancer through the broken shutter which rattled -in the wind outside her window. The new-comer -undeniably was attractive. -</p> - -<p> -The interview which followed between them had -left the princess in a state of mental puzzlement and -doubt. Mademoiselle Petrowa had told her a most -surprising story, speaking in French for the benefit -of possible eavesdroppers; a story of plots and -counter-plots in which the narrator herself appeared -in a double role, ostensibly an agent of Miridoff, -actually a member of the Russian Secret Service. -The story seemed highly improbable, and yet there -was much to substantiate it—the presence of the -dancer in Varden's library and her claim to having -been on hand when the attempt was made to -assassinate Prince Peter. And in addition there had -been something about the little dancer, an air of -sincerity, that had done much to impress the -princess with the truth of her story. -</p> - -<p class="thought"> -***** -<br /> -</p> - -<p> -As Olga sat in the gathering gloom her thoughts -were occupied largely by this surprising development. -If the other woman's story were true, then -her relations with Fenton might easily be understood. -The princess was anxious to believe it, but -doubts persisted, doubts which originated in jealous -consciousness of the undoubted charms of the -dancer. By this time Olga frankly admitted to -herself that she had been, and still was, jealous. -Her jealousy was a revelation to her. -</p> - -<p> -The door opened and with firm, heavy step a -man entered the room. Olga turned and saw that -her visitor was Miridoff himself. His presence -explained much that she had hitherto been unable to -fathom. -</p> - -<p> -There was an unmistakable change in the -demeanour of the Grand Duke. He carried himself -with the conscious air of a conqueror. He -emanated triumph. He came, quite apparently, -to dictate terms; but it was in tones of courtesy -that he first addressed her. -</p> - -<p> -"Your highness," he said, bringing his heels -together with a stiff military bow, "I trust that I -do not intrude. There is a matter which I must -discuss with you immediately, however, and I -must beg your attention for a few minutes." -</p> - -<p> -Beneath the man's outward show of courtesy -and his arrogant air, there was something sinister -and threatening. Miridoff believed in pushing any -advantage mercilessly. Against an unarmed -adversary he would not hesitate to use his sword. -Success bred in him no magnanimity for his -opponent, but rather increased his presumption. -Olga dimly realised something of the mental -attitude of her adversary, and for the first time the -real danger of her position appealed to her -certainly and clearly. She faced him, however, -with no evidence of fear. -</p> - -<p> -"Am I indebted to your grace for the way in -which I have been treated, for my detention as a -prisoner in this house?" she demanded. -</p> - -<p> -"No," answered Miridoff. "The motive for -this was purely political. There is no reason why -I should not explain it to you, though I did not -come to discuss the ethics of your position here. -By the time you are free to return to Serajoz -certain events will have happened which will make -it necessary for you to subscribe to the explanation -of your disappearance now generally accepted—that -you were carried off by a wandering tribe of -mountain gipsies. No harm can come, therefore, -of perfect candour at the present moment." -</p> - -<p> -With an air of complete assurance, Miridoff -drew a chair up close and sat down. -</p> - -<p> -"I can see that your abduction was a mistake," -he went on. "At least, it has been found -unnecessary from a purely political standpoint. -The advantage we thought to gain by getting you -into our power was, of course, to hold you as a -hostage against the continued activity of your -august father. Two days ago, when all Serajoz -was clamouring for war on Austria, our only hope -seemed to be to force the prince to abandon the -allied cause. Since then, however, the militant -wing of our party has prevailed, and a plan has -been put into operation that cannot fail"—he -paused and regarded her with an air of intense -satisfaction—"to bring Ironia into the war against -Russia by this time to-morrow! The active -opposition of your royal father is no longer to be -feared. I have a reason for explaining this which -you will perhaps divine later." -</p> - -<p> -"Then you have come to tell me that I am free?" -</p> - -<p> -"Not at all," replied Miridoff, his complacency -quite unruffled by the obvious scorn in her tone. -"It is no longer necessary to detain you for -political reasons—the comings and goings of a -hundred princesses could now have no effect on -the course of events. But there is still a personal -matter to be settled between us!" -</p> - -<p> -He leaned forward in his chair and regarded her -with an insolently possessive smile. As his gaze -rested on her slender girlish figure and appraised -the rich beauty of her face, complacency gradually -gave way to passion and determination. -</p> - -<p> -"You refused to marry me," he said abruptly, -sharply. "I have come to give you certain -reasons for changing your mind." -</p> - -<p> -The princess replied with quiet contempt and a -determination equal to his own. -</p> - -<p> -"I refuse to discuss the subject with you. My -decision was final. You may keep me here for ever. -You may kill me. You cannot force me to marry you!" -</p> - -<p> -Miridoff stood up and regarded her sombrely. -</p> - -<p> -"Since our first talk on this subject I have not -flattered myself that I could win you in any other -way than by force," he said. "Consequently, -force it must be. This is what I have decided." -</p> - -<p> -Me took a stride up and down the room before -halting again in front of her. His tone, when he -began to speak, was much the same as he would -have employed in outlining a military manoeuvre. -He could see but one side of the situation—his own -determination to conquer the girl and the plan -he had formed to accomplish that purpose. That -she would suffer in the carrying out of that plan -had not been taken into consideration. If this side -of it had occurred to him, he would have dismissed -it as an inevitable factor in any conflict of wills, -and a quite negligible factor. -</p> - -<p> -"Last evening his highness Prince Peter found -it necessary to take the train for a point near the -Mulkovinian border. We know the mission on -which he was bound, and we are also well informed -with reference to his future movements. This -morning he left Bradosk on horseback and rode -over to Ronda. He left Ronda three hours ago -and expects to visit two other points during the night. -</p> - -<p> -"As I said before, the influence and the activities -of Prince Peter are now of no real consequence. -In the face of the magnificent train of events which -come to a culminating point to-night, your royal -father is impotent, his efforts futile. But still, we -do not believe in taking any risks. Sometimes the -impossible happens. The success of our campaign -will be just so much more certain if Peter is put out -of the way. -</p> - -<p> -"The road that he travels to-night runs through -thick woods. At a spot well suited to the purpose -will be stationed a member of the Society of Crossed -Swords, one who has the reputation of being the -best marksman in the north provinces. His -highness is now beyond reach of any message. -Even if his own party at Serajoz knew of his -danger, they could not get a message of warning to -him; for at Ronda he altered his previous plans -and struck out in a new direction. There are no -telegraph wires in the section where Prince Peter -rides to-night." -</p> - -<p> -He paused in front of her. -</p> - -<p> -"The inference," and his voice was cunningly -modulated to deepen the effect of his words, "is -that your august father will not reach Serajoz." -</p> - -<p> -Olga listened to the recital of this monstrous plan -in silence, her mind literally numbed by its -unexpectedness and brutality. The one terrible fact -obsessed her mind: her father rode that night to -his death and no power on earth could save him. -She was powerless to exercise her quick woman's -wit. She did not attempt to reason. It did not -even occur to her to question the truth of what he -had told her. The diabolical nature of the plot -caused her all the more readily to accept as true -his matter-of-fact explanation of it. -</p> - -<p> -Miridoff had paused, but, as the girl did not -speak, he went on in the same deliberate, even tone: -</p> - -<p> -"The plan was not of my making. In fact in -view of the relations between us, I was opposed to -it—at first. I gave my consent knowing that I still -had the power to stop the carrying out of that plan. -The man selected for the work has gone. It was -a wise selection; he is the most determined man we -have. There is only one thing that will prevent -him from carrying out the mission on which he has -been sent. If this ring," he drew a gold band from -his finger and held it up before her, "were carried -to him, he would put his pistols back in his belt -and return forthwith to Kirkalisse. A messenger -who knows the mountain roads could leave here -within the next three hours and arrive in time to -save your father's life." -</p> - -<p> -All the time he had been talking, Olga had sat -with head bowed in statue-like rigidity. At last -she lifted her head wearily, as if the physical -movement were an effort. There was no longer defiance -or determination in her glance. A dull fear was -there and unwilling acquiescence. She had no -other choice. -</p> - -<p> -"What is your price?" she asked. -</p> - -<p> -Miridoff slipped the ring back on his finger. -"It will be sent when you are my wife," he said. -</p> - -<p> -There was another pause. When Olga spoke -again her voice was quiet, but had an oddly strained -tone. "Tell me all," she said. "You have a -plan——" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, I have arranged everything," replied -Miridoff. "I have kept before me this consideration, -that no hint of what occurs this night must -ever be known to others. When the Grand Duke -Miridoff weds the Princess Olga it must be in the -cathedral at Serajoz with the full sanction and in the -presence of His Majesty the King. But in the -meantime, if the life of your highness's father is -to be saved, the link must be forged that will bind -you to me. To-night a band of wandering gipsies -are camped in the Hawk's Rest, a short distance -from here. I have arranged with the chief of the -gipsies that to-night he will marry over the tongs -a man and woman who will come to him. The -contracting parties will be masked, so that not even -the chief himself will know who it is he has joined -together. When the ceremony has been performed, -this ring is to be handed to him to be -carried by one of the young men of the tribe to a -certain rendezvous where waits the best marksman -in the north country. -</p> - -<p> -"I have arranged it in this way," went on -Miridoff, "to convince you of the sincerity of my -intentions. See, I give the ring to you as an -earnest of my good faith. After the ceremony you -shall hand it yourself to the gipsy chief, and see -it passed to the messenger." -</p> - -<p> -He looked at her steadily a moment, then went -on: "There is one thing else. Let me warn you. -The gipsy chief is the only one who shares with me -the knowledge of where the messenger must go, -and he is too completely in my power to divulge the -secret—to be amenable to pressure from any source. -So you see it is only by obeying me in every -particular that you can save your father's life." -</p> - -<p> -Olga had subsided on the couch, her head resting -on her arms. Deep fear and a sense of the -hopelessness of further struggle against this clever -spider who had caught her in his web took possession -of her. She knew there was no way out. -</p> - -<p> -"The plan I propose is too irregular to please -me," pursued Miridoff, "but it is the only possible -solution. In three hours I must start out on a work -of great importance. There is not a priest who -could be brought here within the time, and in any -case this is the only way that can bind you to -me without advertising the method of our union -to a gossiping world. Marry me to-night and -to-morrow you return to Kail Baleski. It shall be -given out that you have been rescued from the -brigands who carried you off, and at once our -marriage shall be properly solemnised before the -Patriarch of Ironia. Is it not a most romantic -marriage I am offering you?" -</p> - -<p> -Olga stood up and faced him. Something of all -that she was giving up, things known and things -hoped for, seemed to present itself to her then in -that fleeting moment. She covered her face in her -hands. -</p> - -<p> -"I will marry you," she whispered. -</p> - -<p> -"Good!" cried Miridoff. "I knew you would -see the matter in its right light, my pretty -one." Then his voice suddenly changed. "But come, no -more of this pettishness. You have taken the step -now. Can you not trust me that you will not regret it?" -</p> - -<p> -She remained quite motionless. -</p> - -<p> -"I must go now," he went on. "In three hours' -time you must be at Hawk's Rest. You must go -alone. My men here will direct you. You will be -given a mask." -</p> - -<p> -He turned and strode towards the door. Arriving -there, he paused and turned back. There was a -moment's silence. Confused and distressed in mind -as she was, Olga was conscious of a subtle change -in his attitude. -</p> - -<p> -"Olga," he cried, his arrogant composure -giving away before a deeper emotion, "although -to-night I have it in my power to make and unmake -empires, I would rather fail in my mission than -lose you. I told you that I would force you to -marry me, and now I almost believe I am better -satisfied to get you in this way. It has come down -from the days of the cave man that an unwilling -bride sometimes makes the best wife. Measure the -depth of my love by the extremes I have adopted -to get you!" -</p> - -<p> -Her words followed hot upon his. "Listen, -your grace," she cried, suddenly and passionately, -"I am prepared to marry you to save my father's -life. I do not know if he is really in your power -as you say. It may be that you have lied. You -are capable of gross trickery. But I can't withhold -my consent on such a chance. The possibility -of danger to my father is the only consideration. -I will marry you, and if I find that you have tricked -me—or if any harm befall my father now or at any -future time—I swear I will kill you!" -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap16"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XVI -<br /><br /> -THE RESCUING PARTY -</h3> - -<p> -"I wonder how much farther we have to go?" -</p> - -<p> -Fenton voiced the query with rising impatience. -For the past three hours they had been following -a tortuous trail up and down the mountain-side, -and the Canadian had chafed at the unavoidable -slowness of their march. Beside him tramped -Crane, his head with its flaring mop of red hair -bent resolutely forward. Ahead of them was the -towering figure of Take Larescu and, dotted back -along the path by which they had come, was a -long file of hill men. -</p> - -<p> -"Can't be much farther," said Crane. -"Larescu said we would make it in a little over -three hours, and we must have been on the tramp -fully that long now. I've come to the conclusion -our bulky friend means everything he says. Even -when he hashes up our proverbs and wise saws, -he gets more sense into them than the originators." -</p> - -<p> -"Larescu is a wonder," affirmed Fenton. -"Talk about organisation! He's got this -hill country trimmed into better shape than a -political ward in New York. Now how do you -suppose he found where the princess was being kept?" -</p> - -<p> -"Well, he had five hours to work in while we -were sleeping," said Crane. "News travel fast -in the mountains. You may not credit it, but a -word is passed along faster up here than in a -crowded city. These hill people can communicate -with each other from one peak to another. Fact. -They've learned to pitch their voices so high the -sound carries to almost incredible distances. I've -seen proofs of it. Larescu probably has agents at -Kirkalisse who ferreted out the news for him and -then passed it along." -</p> - -<p> -They tramped on for a few minutes in silence. -</p> - -<p> -"Miridoff is up to all the tricks," said Fenton -finally. "It would never have done for him to have -had the princess taken to Kirkalisse. By holding -her up in this deserted hunting lodge, he keeps -himself clear of any blame in case of a miscarriage -of his plans. Still he has made it easier for us. -Getting the princess safely away will be a -comparatively easy matter now." -</p> - -<p> -"I am not so sure of that myself," rejoined -Crane. "I think this grand ducal enemy of yours -has something up his sleeve. In fact, I'm -anticipating a stiff fight." -</p> - -<p> -Larescu, some distance in front of them, had -reached the crest of the precipitous mountain-side -up which they had so laboriously worked their way. -He turned back and stretched out his arm toward -the west. On the slope of a distant hill rose the -black towers of a building of imposing dimensions. -</p> - -<p> -"Kirkalisse," said Larescu. He regarded the -distant castle with a lowering frown. "I have a -long score to settle with the master of Kirkalisse, -a score dating back ten years. The balance is in -his favour so far, but perhaps to-night I shall exact -heavy payment for the wrongs the Grand Duke -has done!" -</p> - -<p> -"Are we far from the lodge?" asked Fenton eagerly. -</p> - -<p> -"My impulsive young friend, accept this assurance -that in half an hour her royal highness will -be safely in our hands," said Larescu. "Do not -worry. Everything is arranged. I have set my -hand to the plough—as your proverb goes—and I -shall gather no moss." -</p> - -<p> -Half an hour later, in response to a warning -gesture from Larescu, they stopped on the edge of -a large clearing in the thick forest through which -the latter part of their journey had taken them. It -was rapidly growing dark, but at the far end of the -clearing it was still possible to discern the outlines -of a frame building of picturesque design. Two -paths led to this structure, the one by which they -had come and a second and wider road which -wound off through the forest in the opposite -direction. -</p> - -<p> -"Your princess is there," whispered Crane, -pointing to the building. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton glanced eagerly across the clearing and -dimly made out the figure of a man pacing up and -down in front of the lodge with a rifle over his -shoulder. As he looked, a second figure emerged -from the lodge and, after a brief word with the -sentry, strode briskly along the second path. There -was something familiar about the carriage of this -man that won Fenton's attention. -</p> - -<p> -"Crane, that is Miridoff," he whispered to his -companion, motioning after the receding figure. -"I couldn't get a glimpse of his face, but I'm -sure it's our man. That path must lead to -Kirkalisse." -</p> - -<p> -Crane fingered his revolver with a speculative air. -</p> - -<p> -"I'm a fair shot, Fenton," he said. "It might -save a lot of trouble if I potted him now." -</p> - -<p> -"It wouldn't do," replied Fenton. "We have -no positive proofs of his complicity yet and a -murder charge is just as serious a matter here as it -is under British law. No, I think we can safely -leave the punishment of the Grand Duke to our -doughty Larescu." -</p> - -<p> -The leader of the hill men turned at this moment -and cautiously made his way back to them. -</p> - -<p> -"There are but two or three armed men at the -lodge," he said. "We can take it without difficulty. -I shall spread a line of my men around on -all sides. Then a quick rush—and her highness is -safe once more." -</p> - -<p> -Crane, who had been regarding the dim outlines -of the hunting lodge with interest, suddenly let -drop a hasty ejaculation and grasped Fenton's arm. -With every evidence of excitement, he pointed -toward the building. -</p> - -<p> -"Look at that!" he commanded. At the rear of -the lodge the tops of several high trees elevated -themselves in restive silhouette against the darkening -sky. Above the level of the highest tree was -a single mast that a casual observer would probably -have mistaken for a flag pole. -</p> - -<p> -"Wireless!" said Crane. "There's no mistaking -the apparatus. I served as operator on an -Atlantic steamship for a year and I ought to know -a wireless plant when I see one. Saturnine -Sisyphus, we're certainly in luck on this trip, -Fenton! Here we've probably stumbled on the -station by means of which Miridoff has kept in close -touch with the Austrians across the border. If we -keep our heads now we can find out his whole plan -of campaign." -</p> - -<p> -Crane's discovery necessitated new arrangements -for the capture of the lodge. A rush from all -sides as Larescu had planned would not now serve -as it would give the defender an opportunity to -send a message across space giving warning of the -attack. As Crane pointed out, it was necessary to -capture or incapacitate the operator before any -attempt was made to rush the place. -</p> - -<p> -Accordingly it was settled that nothing would be -done, with the exception of establishing a cordon -around the lodge, until Crane had had an opportunity -to reconnoitre. The Englishman cautiously -skirted the clearing until he had reached a point in -the rear of the building. He investigated the clump -of trees, from the midst of which the wireless mast -protruded, and found that his surmise had been -correct. A thoroughly up-to-date wireless plant -had been installed. -</p> - -<p> -As he moved quietly about, a light showed in a -second story rear window. One of the trees grew -close to the building, and Crane judged that, by -climbing it, he would obtain a view of the lighted -room. Accordingly he removed his boots and -slowly worked his way up the tree to a position -where he could see within. -</p> - -<p> -A man in uniform sat at a desk with an oil lamp -beside him. He was industriously working his -key, his gaze fixed the while on a sheet of paper -that lay spread out on the table. As far as Crane -could make out the room was quite bare of other -furniture. -</p> - -<p> -For several minutes the operator stuck to his key, -while not more than twelve feet away, crouching -over a branch that bent with his weight, Crane -watched every move he made with the utmost -eagerness. Finally the man in uniform stood up and, -holding the sheet to the lamp flame, carefully -burned it to the last scrap. Then he left the room, -closing the door after him. -</p> - -<p> -Crane saw his opportunity. By edging along -the limb he could bring himself within arm's length -of the window ledge. Inch by inch he worked his -way on the swaying branch, fearing each second -that it would give way under his weight. It held, -however, and at last he had the satisfaction of -grasping the firm ledge of the window and -swinging himself across to it. The window lifted -easily enough and Crane climbed quietly into the room. -</p> - -<p> -He had scarcely reached the floor when the sound -of returning footsteps caused him to dash on tiptoe -across the room to a commanding position behind -the door. It opened and the operator stepped -briskly into the room. The latter had almost -reached his seat before he became aware of another -presence in the room. His eyes opened wide and -his jaw sagged with amazement when he saw Crane. -The latter with a grim frown had stepped between -him and the door and was covering him with a revolver. -</p> - -<p> -"Make a sound and you're a dead man!" said -Crane, in a shrill whisper. He conveyed his -ultimatum first in Ironian and then in German. -</p> - -<p> -The operator, after the first effects of his surprise -had passed, recovered his wits sufficiently to seat -himself facing Crane. This placed him in such a -position that he covered the instrument on the table. -Divining his purpose to operate the instrument -behind his back, Crane brought his revolver up to -a business-like level and covered his man. -</p> - -<p> -"Stand up," he ordered. -</p> - -<p> -The operator hesitated a moment and then got -to his feet. -</p> - -<p> -"Hands in front of you!" In a trice Crane had -replaced the revolver in his belt, pinioned one of -the operator's hands over the other and bound -them with a handkerchief. It was done so neatly -that, within a minute from the time the first move -was made, the man had been unceremoniously -shoved back into his chair with his hands bound -in front of him. He appeared thoroughly dazed. -</p> - -<p> -Then came an unexpected development. A light -step sounded outside the door. Crane, who was -proceeding to gag the pinioned operator, looked -up and saw a girl standing in the doorway—a pretty -girl who viewed his proceedings with every evidence -of astonishment. Crane was thorough in his -methods. He promptly left the task of trussing up -the operator and dragged the girl into the room -with more force than ceremony, taking the -precaution to close the door and sternly admonishing -her the while to keep silent. -</p> - -<p> -"Not a sound out of you or I'll treat you the -same way as I've done Marconi here," he said, -seating her in the only other chair that the room -boasted, and speaking in the native tongue. -</p> - -<p> -The girl showed no evidence of fear, despite the -rough handling she had received and the grim -appearance of the aggressive Crane. She sat back -quietly enough and watched his movements with -keenest interest. Keeping a wary eye on his two -prisoners the while, Crane took up the lamp and -signalled with it through the window, moving it -backward and forward in front of him several -times. He kept this up until convinced that his -signal had been noted. Then he placed the lamp -back on the table and detached two revolvers from -his belt. -</p> - -<p> -"There's likely to be no end of a shindy -downstairs," he said to the girl. "You mustn't get -frightened, you know. You won't get hurt. Just -stay where you are and close your jaw and no harm -will come to you." -</p> - -<p> -There was a sudden shout, a sound of rushing -feet, a shot or two. Crane ran from the room and -down a flight of stairs that opened before him, -shouting at the top of his voice. He found Fenton -and several of the hill men standing in the -doorway. The lodge had been captured without -a blow. -</p> - -<p> -It was found that there were three men in the -place beside the operator. The defenders had made -no attempt at resistance, prudently deciding, when -the numbers of the attacking party became manifest, -that resistance would be useless in any case. -They were bound securely in the lodge under guard. -The two maids were confined in another room and -also guarded. All this happened in the course of -ten minutes. -</p> - -<p> -"The operator's upstairs, safely trussed," said -Crane to Fenton. "There's a girl there too, but -I don't think it can be the princess. Hello! Here -she is herself." -</p> - -<p> -Anna Petrowa, holding the lamp above her head, -had appeared on the stairs. She gave a cry of -delight when she discerned the fair head of Fenton -towering above the group of men in the dark hall. -</p> - -<p> -"My brave Canadian, no time you lost in getting -here," she said, coming down the stairs. -</p> - -<p> -"How is it that you are here?" demanded -Fenton in amazement. -</p> - -<p> -"The Grand Duke's orders," replied Anna in -low tones. "It was thought best that the princess -should not be left without companionship. And -then I was to keep a close watch on her. But this -plan has not been the success. The princess has -shut herself up and I have seen her but little." -</p> - -<p> -"Where is she now?" asked Fenton, with all -of a lover's eagerness. -</p> - -<p> -Anna indicated a door leading off from the right -of the hall. "You will find her there," she said. -Then she placed a delaying hand on the arm. -"Who is the extraordinary person of the very red -hair? He made me a prisoner. He is the most -rough, the most brutal—but——" -</p> - -<p> -"Crane!" shouted Fenton. "I am going to -leave Mademoiselle Petrowa in your charge. You -apparently have amends to make to mademoiselle, -who, by the way, has done a great deal for the -Cause—more than any of us know. Could you -manage to be polite for a while?" -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap17"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XVII -<br /><br /> -THE RENUNCIATION -</h3> - -<p> -At times when the emotion runs high, considerations -of a practical, artificial or conventional -nature are often lost sight of; everything, in fact, -recedes from the mind but the truly essential things. -At such times one forgets caste, rejects pride and -brushes aside the petty objections and restrictions -that custom has hedged around us, and remembers -only the deeper instincts that in reality shape one's -course in life. -</p> - -<p> -Olga was disturbed from the sad reverie into -which she had fallen on the departure of Miridoff -by hoarse shouts and the sound of running men -without. When, brought to her feet by a knock at -her door, she had thrown it open to find Fenton -there, Olga forgot that she was a princess of the -royal line, forgot that she had pledged herself to -marry the Grand Duke that very night, forgot that -life was sad, cruel, inexorable, forgot everything -but that HE was there, that she was suddenly -glad.... -</p> - -<p> -And when Fenton saw her standing in the semi-darkness, -a slender drooping figure with infinite -pathos in her soft violet eyes, he forgot that he -had seen her but three times all together, forgot that -on their past meeting they had parted with -pronounced coolness, forgot that she was born to the -purple of royalty, forgot everything but that he -loved her and that she was meant to be his.... -And so both lost sight of all considerations, -practical, artificial or conventional, and remembered -the only truly essential thing in life to them. -Fenton gathered her up in his arms. Olga yielded -willingly, gladly. -</p> - -<p> -Such moments, however, are brief. On second -thoughts these same considerations of a practical, -artificial or conventional nature come trooping -back into the mind, stern judges who mercilessly -point out the folly of one's course in temporarily -forgetting them. Fenton, exalted beyond all -compare by her unexpected surrender, rained kisses on -her hair, her brow, her eyes, her nose, the dimple -in her cheek. When he reached her lips, the -meaning of it all came back to Olga. She began -to remember again, her position, her promise—and -Miridoff. Breaking from his embrace with -sudden strength, she ran to the couch and threw -herself upon it, burying her head in her arms while -passionate sobs shook her. -</p> - -<p> -From the lofty heights of exultation, Fenton -descended to the barren plain of uncertainty and -bewilderment. Manlike he could not understand -her sudden change of attitude, and manlike he -stood over the couch and looked down at her -ruefully and awkwardly. When he essayed to touch -her she shrank away from him and her sobs -increased in violence. -</p> - -<p> -But Olga had been trained in a stern school and -it did not take her long to conquer her emotion. -The spell passed as suddenly as it had come. She -sat up and dried her eyes and even (for a girl can -remember such things at moments of deepest stress) -patted her hair into shape again. -</p> - -<p> -"Come, sit down beside me," she said quietly -and compassionately. "There are many things -we must say—and our time, alas, is so short." -</p> - -<p> -Fenton sat down. He longed to clasp her in -his arms again, she looked so pretty and fragile, -but something warned him not to do so. Olga -understood and rewarded him by placing one little -hand in his. -</p> - -<p> -"It was wrong," she said, looking him frankly -in the eyes for the first time. "There can be -nothing between us. Presently I shall tell you -why. But first there are things we must tell each -other frankly." -</p> - -<p> -Fenton sat as if turned to stone. The loving -abandon of her welcome had set his heart beating -wildly with new hopes and aspirations. Now he -realised dully that for some reason all hope would -be taken from him. -</p> - -<p> -"Do you love me?" she asked. -</p> - -<p> -It was hardly necessary for him to speak. His -answer shone in his eyes. -</p> - -<p> -"I love you." -</p> - -<p> -There was a pause. For a moment, an ecstatic, -all-too-brief moment, her head rested lightly against -his shoulder. -</p> - -<p> -"I shall always have that to remember, to help -me," she said, almost in a reflective tone. -</p> - -<p> -"And you—you love me?" asked Fenton. His -throat seemed suddenly parched and words came -haltingly. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," whispered Olga, permitting for a moment -the pressure of his arm which had stolen about -her—but for a moment only. "I love you. And I -am glad of it, even if it is wrong that I should." -</p> - -<p> -"I loved you the first time I saw you," he said. -</p> - -<p> -"I am not sure when it really started with me, -but it must have been the very first time," said -Olga musingly, almost forgetting the tragic -realities of her position in the consideration of a -problem so thrillingly important. "I <i>knew</i> when -I thought you were making love to that other -woman. Tell me that you were not." -</p> - -<p> -"Mademoiselle Petrowa!" exclaimed Fenton, -with a mirthless laugh. "Of course not. She's -a Russian secret service agent and has been working -for us. She's wonderful and brave and I admire -her a great deal. But——" -</p> - -<p> -It is sometimes possible to convey a clearer -meaning by what we don't say than by what we -might have said. Fenton's omission was eloquent -and convincing. -</p> - -<p> -"I am glad," said Olga, smiling her satisfaction -quaintly. "She told me a story to-day that I -wanted to believe. And now I do." -</p> - -<p> -By mutual consent explanations on that point -ceased. None further were needed. Olga and her -lover each knew where the other stood, knew and -were happy in the knowledge of the other's love. -By mutual consent also they left off for as long -as possible any reference to the catastrophe that -threatened to wreck their happiness. -</p> - -<p> -Finally, however, it had to be told. Olga, her -resolution suddenly breaking, crept into the shelter -of his arms when telling of Miridoff's cruel and -cunning device. The story finished, she threw her -arms around her lover's neck and with a paroxysm -of weeping implored him to protect her, to save -her from the hideous fate that loomed ahead. -Fenton consoled her with brave words of consolation, -while black thoughts filled his mind. A -primitive desire to kill the cunning Grand Duke -took possession of him. -</p> - -<p> -"Don't cry, little girl," he said. "Of course -there's a way out. You'll not have to marry that -black-hearted scoundrel. To-night Take Larescu -will have three thousand men hammering at the -gates of Kirkalisse. And I personally guarantee -that Miridoff will not get away alive." -</p> - -<p> -But his face belied his words. Fenton realised -to the fullest how cunningly Miridoff had laid his -plans. -</p> - -<p> -Slowly Olga extricated herself from his arms and -dried her eyes. Her courage was coming back. -She smiled at him bravely. -</p> - -<p> -"I know you would willingly die to save me," -she said. "But how would killing this man help -me? Would it carry the pledge to the assassin -who waits at an unknown point to take my father's -life? No, dear heart, there is nothing that can be -done. The spider has spun his web too cleverly. -I—I am entangled." -</p> - -<p> -"There will be a way out," said Fenton through -set teeth. "I will find it. I can't give you up." -</p> - -<p> -He seized her roughly in his arms and looked -long and earnestly into her eyes. Then slowly his -hold relaxed. He groaned, miserable and rebellious -at his impotence. Gently she drew herself away. -</p> - -<p> -"We have loved but to lose," she whispered. -"Courage, my dear. Go please, go now. It makes -it so hard——" -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap18"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XVIII -<br /><br /> -TWO FIGHT: ONE FALLS -</h3> - -<p> -Fenton left the room with his mind filled with -surging, angry emotions. For some time he paced -up and down in front of the lodge, thinking over -what the princess had told him and vainly cudgeling -his brain for a plan to circumvent the Grand -Duke. He could not yet accept defeat. Instead, -he felt confident that there was some way out, that -he could save her. The more he struggled with -the problem and realised the cunning with which -Miridoff had made his plans, the greater became his -determination. -</p> - -<p> -He finally sought out Crane and frankly put the -facts before him. Although he had known the -voluble and irascible young Englishman for little -more than a day, Fenton had already come to place -the utmost reliance in him. On the tramp that -afternoon from Larescu's headquarters they had -discussed the political situation in Ironia, and Fenton -had unreservedly stated the incidents leading up to -the abduction of the princess. -</p> - -<p> -Crane heard of the latest development with every -manifestation of deep anger. But his resentment, -after all, had to spend itself in futile threats and -mighty sounding oaths; he had no practical -suggestions to offer. -</p> - -<p> -"The part of it that I can't understand," said -Fenton finally, "is with reference to the gipsy -band who are to perform this infamous ceremony. -I thought Larescu controlled all the people in the hills." -</p> - -<p> -"You'll run into wandering tribes of gipsies in -all parts of the Balkan countries," replied Crane, -shaking his head. "They have no nationality. -They come and go as they please and know no law -but the word of their chief. One of the hill men -told me to-night that some of the Pesth band -were camped over there to the west of us. They'll -do anything, these gipsies, if the reward is -sufficient or the pressure brought to bear strong -enough." -</p> - -<p> -"It's my opinion that Miridoff is bluffing," -declared Fenton, clutching at a straw. "He is -trying to frighten the princess into marrying him. -For all we know, Prince Peter is now safe at home -in Serajoz." -</p> - -<p> -But again Crane shook his head. "I don't think -so," he said. "When you know Ironia as well as -I do, you'll realise that this is exactly what might -be expected to happen. Prince Peter stands in -Miridoff's path—he must be removed. The -princess refuses to marry him—she must be forced. -There is no way of warning the prince. If the -pledge is not sent in the way prescribed—Peter -will surely die." -</p> - -<p> -Hastily, desperately they debated many plans, -but discarded them all as either too dangerous or -not feasible, and it was with a feeling closely akin -to despair that Fenton finally realised the time had -come for Olga to keep the appointment at the -Hawk's Rest—and that he had found no way to -save her. Then all of a sudden determination -came to him. He sprang to his feet and grimly -examined his revolvers to see if they were properly -loaded. -</p> - -<p> -"It may be necessary for the princess to go -through with this marriage in order to save her -father's life," he declared, with implacable purpose -burning in his eyes. "But Miridoff shall never -return to Kirkalisse. That I swear." -</p> - -<p> -After arranging with Crane to see that Olga was -escorted to the Hawk's Rest, Fenton set out with -a guide for the same place. When he arrived there -he sent his guide back and carefully reconnoitred -the ground. It was a clearing on the crest of one -of the highest hills. It was approached by two -paths; one from the hunting lodge, the other from -Kirkalisse. The latter road ran for a considerable -distance along the precipitous side of the -mountain. Up to a certain point it was wide and -level enough. Not many yards from the junction -the road narrowed till it became little more than a -cramped path. -</p> - -<p> -The gipsies were camped in the clearing. A -large fire blazed in the centre, the flames rising at -times almost to the tops of the surrounding trees. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton decided to station himself as near the -clearing as he could without being observed. The -surrounding thicket presented ample means for -concealment. He finally placed himself close by -the path from Kirkalisse. -</p> - -<p> -No clearly defined purpose had yet formed in his -mind. He was prepared to let fate map out his -course of action now, and it was probably with an -instinctive idea of protecting Olga that he placed -himself on the path by which Miridoff would come. -</p> - -<p> -It was very still, save for the low hum of voices -in the clearing behind. Fenton peered anxiously -into the darkness. Three or four yards in front of -him a bend occurred in the narrow path, and the -brush on his left hid the slender ribbon of roadway. -To his right was the precipice, a sheer drop of -many hundred feet. -</p> - -<p> -As he listened, the sound of footsteps came from -beyond the bend in the path. They drew closer, -and around the bend appeared the figure of a man. -The new-comer was muffled in a military cloak, -beneath which dangled a sabre. He wore a military -cap. Fenton recognised Miridoff, and instantly -the spell of indecision passed. An idea flashed -through his mind, determining his course of action. -Stepping forward, the Canadian barred the path. -</p> - -<p> -"Stop!" he commanded in German. -</p> - -<p> -Miridoff recognised the voice. "You!" he -exclaimed, instinctively drawing back a pace and -freeing his sword arm from the folds of the cloak. -For a moment the two men regarded each other in -tense silence. -</p> - -<p> -"We are well met," declared Miridoff then. -"You have crossed my path once too often. This -time I shall finish you!" -</p> - -<p> -"Well met indeed," said Fenton, with a grim -laugh that had something of triumph in it—for -suddenly there came to him a way to save the -princess. "You come just in time, your -grace, to enable me to carry out a certain plan. I -need——" -</p> - -<p> -Miridoff flung back his cloak and drew a pistol -from his belt. Realising that a fraction of a second's -delay would cost him his life, Fenton hurled -himself bodily forward and pinned the Grand Duke's -arms to his sides. The impact carried them back -close to the edge of the precipice. The revolver -Miridoff had drawn fell from his grasp and clattered -on the rocky path. -</p> - -<p> -"Presumptuous, meddling fool!" exclaimed the -Grand Duke, straining to loosen the hold of his -young adversary. "It is fitter that you die this -way than that I should soil my sword." -</p> - -<p> -"Trickster, traitor, assassin!" answered Fenton, -exerting the utmost of his strength to maintain -his hold on his powerful adversary. "You'll never -live to complete your theft of a bride! Before you -die—I want you to know—that we took the lodge -an hour ago. The wireless is in our hands. -Before I throw you over the cliff, think of -this—your plans will miscarry, you will be remembered -in Ironia as—the man who tried to sell his country!" -</p> - -<p> -Fenton's breath had come in puffs; it was difficult -to speak when he needed all his energies for -action. -</p> - -<p> -They struggled back and forth. Both were -powerful men; Miridoff had the advantage in -weight and strength, but Fenton was the more lithe -and active. They were well matched. Almost on -the edge of the precipice they fought it out, a grim -struggle to the death. Once Fenton's foot slipped -over the edge, but he regained his firm footing -on the ledge again almost instantly. Miridoff, -hampered by his cloak, managed to free himself -from its folds. It fell under their feet and nearly -ended the fight by tripping them both. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton fought with calculating coolness, but his -mind was in a turmoil. If he could master this -man the happiness of the princess would be -assured, for it would give him an opportunity to -carry out the plan that had flashed through his -mind a few minutes before. If he failed to conquer -the Grand Duke, then Olga was lost. -</p> - -<p> -The thought spurred him to something like -super-human efforts. He struggled fiercely, animated -with a determination to kill his adversary. He -became the physical embodiment of that one idea. -Miridoff must be put out of the way. -</p> - -<p> -The darkness closed down more dense than ever -over the tightly clenched figures. They swayed -this way and that, careless of death that faced them -both if they went a foot too far. At intervals -Fenton caught fleeting glimpses of the red glow -which he knew to be Hawk's Rest, where perhaps -Olga was now waiting—unconsciously waiting the -outcome of the struggle. -</p> - -<p class="thought"> -***** -<br /> -</p> - -<p> -Then it became apparent that the equality of the -struggle had ceased. One of the antagonists had -secured a hold on the other's throat. The beaten -man struggled backward to escape from the relentless -grip of his opponent. His effort was successful. -He broke away free. But his foot was over -the edge. His effort to free himself had carried -him back too far. An instant he swayed -uncertainly on the edge, then fell backward. -</p> - -<p> -The victor stood a moment silently glancing -into the darkness through which the black, -shapeless form had hurtled down. -</p> - -<p> -Then he turned and picked up the cloak. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap19"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XIX -<br /><br /> -MARRIED OVER THE TONGS -</h3> - -<p> -From the blackness of night that had settled down -over the mountains, Olga emerged into the clear -space that was known as Hawk's Rest, in the centre -of which was a blazing fire and about which sat in -curious groups the gipsies of the Pesth band. The -setting was weird enough and fantastic enough to -have been transplanted from a past century, when -the nomad was legion, and the comprachicos thrived -under the wing of royalty. The uncertain play of -the flames against the background of tangled firs -wrought awesome figures out of the gloom, and, -throwing a reddish tinge on the swarthy gipsy -faces, rendered them unreal and grotesque. The -band were dressed in the picturesque garb of the -eastern nomad that has survived the changing -influence of several centuries. Bedecked in the most -brilliant colours, the women decorated by rouge and -rings, the men with pistols and daggers, they -presented in the flickering light a spectacle that one -would never forget. -</p> - -<p> -Muffled in a dark cloak and masked, the princess -stepped into the lighted space near the fire. Of -the timidity that might have been expected to -manifest itself, not a trace was to be found. Her -step was slow but resolute, and in her whole -attitude a calm fearlessness was reflected. Truth -to tell, Olga was as unconscious of external -impressions as though she were treading the polished -floor of a ball-room. Her mind was obsessed with -a double fear that weighed upon her consciousness -with deadening persistence—fear for her father's -life, and fear for herself—afterward. She had no -thought of turning back, no sense of self-pity, no -idea of the magnitude of her sacrifice. Her duty -was quite clear, but equally clear was the realisation -of what it meant. As she stepped close to the -centre of the gipsy ring she mentally bade farewell -to youth, hope, love, happiness—everything. -</p> - -<p> -The gipsy chief stood beside the fire—tall, -withered, white-haired, a wraith of a man in -fantastic garb that bespoke his rank. A gipsy chief -is more absolute than any king; his word is the -law of the band, his will the guiding factor. The -attitude of the old gipsy was unmistakably regal. -</p> - -<p> -Out of the shadows on the opposite side came the -figure of Miridoff. A mask covered his whole face. -He was cloaked and hatted for a journey, and his -gait showed haste, even a degree of nervousness. -</p> - -<p> -Olga went through the ceremony that followed -in a daze. Standing in front of the hissing, -spitting flames, her hand clasped in that of the Grand -Duke and extended over the tongs, she heard the -old chief's cracked voice proclaim the unknown -words that tied her for ever to the man she had so -much reason to fear and hate. As the ritual -proceeded, the gipsies—seated far away it seemed to her -from the monotonous sound of their voices, though -occasionally through the intermittent flash of the -flames, their faces appeared to glower directly at -her through panes of magic flame—started up a -chant. It was a mournful strain, gathering volume -as it proceeded and finally culminating in an -outburst of sound that expressed triumph and -passion. -</p> - -<p> -Was ever the sacred rite performed under -circumstances more repugnant—gipsy tongs for an -altar, a sinister gipsy chief for a priest, the wild -Romany chant for a hymn of gladness, the shrouding -darkness of the mountain-side for a cathedral, -and the much-feared and much-hated Miridoff for -a bridegroom! Some thought of the incongruity -of it all penetrated to Olga's mind through the -deep fear that had taken hold of her. As the -concluding bars of the gipsy ritual rose from around -her, she snatched her hand from the grasp of -Miridoff and tightly clasped her ears to shut out the -sound. A sob escaped her. Her weakness was -but momentary. Quickly marshalling her forces -of resolution, the princess dropped into the withered -hand of the chief the ring which would ensure her -father's safety and for which she had sold herself -into life-long bondage. The chief transferred it -to a husky young gipsy and spoke a few words of -instruction. -</p> - -<p> -"Tell him to hasten," pleaded Olga. "He -must not fail to carry the pledge to its destination -within the specified time! Tell him that riches -shall be his, untold riches, if he carries out his -mission. I promise it." -</p> - -<p> -Turning to Miridoff who was standing by silently -and, truth to tell, a little awkwardly, she urged -upon him the necessity for haste on the part of the -messenger. "I have paid your price," she -reminded him. -</p> - -<p> -Miridoff bowed; but did not speak. Taking her -by the arm he led her from the Hawk's Rest, and -out along the narrow path by which she had come -from the hunting lodge. Where the path narrowed -so that single file became necessary, he dropped to -the rear and they walked on in silence for a spell -of perhaps ten minutes. -</p> - -<p> -Olga felt unutterably weary. Mental anguish -had drawn heavily on her strength, and the -excitement of the day had brought her to the verge of a -collapse. As they reached the turn of the broad -trail that led up to the lodge, the small remnant -of her strength that was left deserted her. She -stopped, stretched out one hand for support, and -then fell back in a faint. -</p> - -<p> -Olga came back to life with a strange sense of -security and comfort. Her head rested on a broad, -comfortable shoulder. Two arms encompassed -her. She was being carried up the steep, winding -trail with an ease that bespoke unusual strength in -her bearer. Too weak to move, too faint even for -curiosity, she lay inertly in his arms. She realised -dimly where they were when at last they entered -the lodge, and it was with a faint regret that she -felt herself lowered—so carefully and tenderly—to -a couch. -</p> - -<p> -Deft hands placed and adjusted cushions; there -was a sound of much hurrying to and fro, and -several voices close at hand. Out of the jumble -of sounds that registered partially on her slowly -reviving senses, came a new voice, sharp and -incisive, which said: "Hands up!" Followed a -pause and then a laugh, hearty and spontaneous -but restrained, out of deference, she dimly realised, -for her condition. Then a voice came out of the -mists that was very familiar—and also very dear. -There was more talk, more laughing, and then full -consciousness came back to her with a shock! -Words had distinctly reached her out of the -indistinct babel of sounds, three words that electrified -her, sending her heart beating wildly. "Miridoff -is dead," someone had said. -</p> - -<p> -Olga would have spoken, but found that weakness -and excitement had combined to render her -powerless either to move or speak. She heard the -familiar and dear voice—and now she realised why -it was dear, and just how dear it was—this time -speaking from very close at hand. "Hand me the -cordial, Crane," it said. Then an arm was slipped -under her shoulders, and she was raised slightly -from her recumbent position while a spoon was -inserted between her lips. The cordial revived her -wonderfully, but she did not open her eyes. -Perhaps it was because she found the pressure of that -strong arm so comforting. -</p> - -<p> -"Hold on, Fenton," said the sharp and incisive -voice. "Aren't you kind of making that business -of supporting the invalid a bit too realistic? You -act more like a lover than a nurse!" -</p> - -<p> -And then came the astounding reply: "Hang it, -Crane, can't I hug my own wife?" -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap20"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XX -<br /><br /> -THE PLOT DISCOVERED -</h3> - -<p> -Olga slowly sat up. The room, she realised, was -now empty save for the man who knelt beside her -couch; a man in a long military cloak, that -belonged, she knew, or had belonged, to her -arch-enemy, now her husband. But the man wearing -the cloak was not old, dark, and heavily whiskered. -On the contrary, he was young, fair, and without -a hair on his face. Donald Fenton sat on the floor -beside her, in Miridoff's cloak, and he it had been -who had said, "Miridoff is dead!" -</p> - -<p> -Olga gazed at him in bewilderment. -</p> - -<p> -"The duke, where is he?" she questioned faintly. -</p> - -<p> -"He is not here," said Fenton. There was -something strangely thrilling about this handsome -young alien kneeling before her. It was perhaps -the rapt way in which he was regarding her; almost -as though he thought she belonged to him. His -eyes were full of some secret that he wanted to share -with her, a secret that already she intuitively seemed -to understand. -</p> - -<p> -"Have I been dreaming?" she asked. "Did -I really go to-night to that place where all those -dreadful people were, or was it just a dream?" -</p> - -<p> -"You were really there," replied Fenton. His -tone was quite calm, but that secret was burning -in his eyes. -</p> - -<p> -"Then where is the Grand Duke? And my -father—will he——" -</p> - -<p> -"His highness will be quite safe," Fenton -assured her. "But as for Miridoff, he is dead!" -</p> - -<p> -His hand reached out and took possession of hers. -It was quite respectfully done, as though he sought -to convey sympathy, assurance. She made no -effort to withdraw her hand. -</p> - -<p> -In a few words he told her of the meeting with -Miridoff, of the struggle on the cliff side, and of -the ending, when the Grand Duke, losing his -balance on the edge, fell backward and down into -the abyss. -</p> - -<p> -"By a direct dispensation of Providence, his hat -and cloak were left," he went on. "I realised that -if his highness, your father, were to be saved, it -was necessary for the wedding to go on. So I -donned the cloak, hat and mask, and took -Miridoff's place." -</p> - -<p> -There was a tense silence. The girl covered her -face, scarlet with confusion and a strange new -emotion, in her hands. Fenton struggled to his -feet and gazed down at her for a moment with the -most wonderful tenderness in his eyes and a sad -smile of renunciation on his lips. Then he started -to pace the room, quickly, fitfully, nervously, a -stern mental struggle showing in his face. Finally -he stopped in front of her and said, slowly and -quietly: -</p> - -<p> -"A wedding over the tongs is considered binding. -We are married in the eyes of the law, perhaps even -in the eyes of the church. But it can quite easily -be set aside. I knew that, of course. I was quite -prepared to step aside—so you must not let this -worry you!" -</p> - -<p> -The girl raised her head and gazed at him intently -for a moment. Then she stood up and faced him. -</p> - -<p> -"Do you want the marriage set aside?" she asked. -</p> - -<p> -A dull flush spread over Fenton's face. He made -as though to clasp her in his arms, then checked -himself with an effort at repression, only to yield -again to the impulse. She felt herself drawn -towards him. -</p> - -<p> -"Olga, I dare not answer you!" he cried. "I -meant to be firm, but I can only remember that for -a time at least you are my wife!" He rained -kisses on her face and hair and neck. It was a -full minute before she succeeded in drawing herself -away—and then it was only to arm's length. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton had expected a storm of indignant protest. -He saw instead a tremulous smile, a radiant -flush, and eyes that were filled to overflowing with -happiness. And he heard her say: -</p> - -<p> -"If there is any question as to the legality of the -marriage, had you not better find a priest?" -</p> - -<p class="thought"> -***** -<br /> -</p> - -<p> -Fenton's arrival at the lodge, with the princess in -his arms, had created a sensation, to say the least. -It was not until he had removed his mask at Crane's -strident command, that his real identity was -discovered. When it developed that the Canadian -and Olga were actually married, Crane retired to -the operator's room above in a state of thorough -mental mystification. He tramped in heavily and -sat himself down in his chair, quite ignoring -Mademoiselle Petrowa who was seated at the other side -of the table; which was Crane's usual way with women. -</p> - -<p> -The dancer and Crane had been thrown together -continuously since the arrival of the rescuing party -at the lodge. Anna had made certain tentative -advances of a mildly flirtatious character, and Crane -had responded by bullying her most ferociously; -which, after all, is not so far removed from -love-making. Strangely enough, Anna had not really -understood his attitude. She was puzzled by this -stormy, red-haired individual, who ordered her -about as though she were a stage-hand. She had -acknowledged to herself that he was an interesting -type of man, a compelling type. When he had -smiled—he had a most engaging smile—she had felt -strangely attracted. -</p> - -<p> -He coolly removed his coat and collar and rolled -his shirt sleeves up to his elbows. Then he -produced a pipe that he had found somewhere in the -lodge, a most vile one, too, and settled down for -a comfortable smoke. Through the haze that -surrounded him he nodded frowningly at his companion. -</p> - -<p> -"Pretty business, downstairs," he said, in an -aggrieved tone. "Here's this fellow, Fenton, who -knows the work we've got ahead of us and yet -goes and wastes time getting married." -</p> - -<p> -"Married!" cried Anna, in genuine amazement. -</p> - -<p> -"Married," responded Crane with confirmatory -disgust. "It seems he chucked Miridoff off the -cliff and then took his place at the ceremony. The -happy couple are downstairs now." -</p> - -<p> -There was a period of silence. Anna had been -well aware of the state of affairs between Fenton -and Olga, but its sudden <i>denouement</i> almost took -her breath away. Crane studied her shrewdly out -of the corner of his eye. -</p> - -<p> -"Just the same I admire the beggar's nerve!" -he said finally. "He'll be putting ideas in other -heads. Now if an ordinary fellow like Fenton can -pick up with a princess, perhaps even a -down-at-heels engineer could aspire to—er——" -</p> - -<p> -Anna laughed, a rippling laugh thai expressed -enlightenment and much satisfaction. She had -seen beneath the armour of bluster, and knew that -in reality Crane would be as wax in her facile -hands. From that moment dated the ascendency -of Anna. -</p> - -<p> -Crane frowned with offended dignity, but Anna -continued to laugh and to regard him in a way -that said, plainer than words, "At last I have -found you out." Crane's frown was like a threat -from the commandant of the citadel after he has -hauled down his flag and surrendered the keys. -Perceiving something of this, Crane turned hastily -to the wireless, glad of an interruption provided -by a faint click that gave notice of an arriving -message. -</p> - -<p> -For a moment he regarded the keys with casual -interest, then the expression of his face changed -to one of surprise, concern, and finally to almost -incredulous delight. For ten minutes he alternately -received and sent replies, feverish interest -showing in every line of him. What the news -could be, flashing back and forth across space, to -cause such concern, his companion could not -conceive. She watched him with keen expectancy. -</p> - -<p> -Completing the sending of a final message, -Crane suddenly sprang up from the instrument. -Dragging her from her chair, he waltzed her round -the room hilariously, winding up the performance -by lifting her bodily to a seat on the table. -Standing before her he declaimed excitedly: "You've -witnessed the making of history, girl! A most -stupendous piece of luck has come our way. I've -blundered on to the means to bring Ironia into -line. To-morrow we'll be at war with Austria!" And -he danced up and down the room, his red -face redder than ever. -</p> - -<p> -The first flush of his excitement over, he picked -up his pipe again and began to pull at it furiously. -</p> - -<p> -"Pardon the exuberance," he said. "I felt so -pleased with myself and everything in general -that I simply had to do something. You see I've -got an idea, a scheme that's going to take some -working out. It's a big idea, too. Didn't know -I had it in me. But, look here, I can't leave the -room for fear the operator over the line there in -Austria takes it into his head to let out some more -state secrets. Now run down and order Fenton to -come up here—there's a good girl." -</p> - -<p> -When Anna had gone, Crane did some hard -thinking. He had the faculty of quick calculation. -It had instantly occurred to him how the -message he had waylaid might be turned to good -account, and, in a dim way too, he gained a superficial -understanding of the details necessary for the -success of his scheme. Swiftly he turned and -touched the keys. In a few moments he was in -touch with the Austrian station from which the -first message had come. So intent was he on the -business in hand that he paid no attention when -the others entered the room. -</p> - -<p> -"Where exactly is the Ironian regiment ready -to join yours?" This was the question he sent. -In a moment he got his answer; and, having -assured the officer with whom he was in communication -that his earlier request should be attended -to, he turned and nodded to Fenton. -</p> - -<p> -"Fenton," he said, "I've just received a -message that reveals the whole of Miridoff's plan. -It came from Austrian headquarters ten miles -across the line. An hour ago, in accordance with -a pre-arranged plan, a thousand Austrian troops -moved out of camp in the direction of the Russian -frontier. The plan, as I understand it now, is this." -</p> - -<p> -He grasped a piece of paper and roughly -sketched a map of the district. "Here's our -present position approximately," he explained. -"We're about three miles from the frontier. Now -here's the Bhura River, which serves as the dividing -line between the two countries. Five miles -up the river, a small tributary branches off from -the Bhura into Ironian territory, but if you cross -the Bhura just above the point where the tributary -stream starts you find yourself in Russia; -and the tributary itself flows between Russia and -Ironia. An Ironian regiment, which has been -stationed on the frontier, is now camped close to -the junction point. -</p> - -<p> -"The plan is simplicity itself. The Austrians -march until they reach this junction of the two -streams. Then they signal to the Ironians, who -are officered by men in Miridoff's pay. A joint -raid across the river into Russian territory follows, -with the burning of a village or two. The Russian -troops will soon drive the raiders back, of course, -but the mischief will be done. Ironia will have -committed an open act of war against Russia." -</p> - -<p> -"A diabolically clever scheme," exclaimed -Fenton. "Not even the death of Miridoff can -stop it. Certainly we can do nothing now." -</p> - -<p> -"Can't we?" cried Crane triumphantly. "By -the roaring bull of Bashan, we can stop it! I -have a plan that will just reverse things -completely. Look at this map again! Two miles -west of the first tributary there is another stream -branching off the Bhura in the same direction as -that higher up the river. If the Austrians in the -darkness were to mistake this stream for the one -higher up they would cross the Bhura there and -so get into Ironian territory instead of Russian! -Now, just supposing that they made this mistake, -they would run right into an Ironian hamlet -consisting of a church and a dozen houses or so. In -accordance with instructions they would proceed to -set fire to this, with the idea that it was a Russian -village. Ironians, conveniently stationed there -for the purpose—under our friend Larescu—would -promptly attack the invaders and drive them back -across the river. The same result follows as is -expected if the plan of Miridoff is carried out, -except that the position of the countries will be -reversed. Austria will have committed an open -act of war against Ironia. It will act like a spark -on dry tinder. Ironia will blaze up and war will -follow immediately!" -</p> - -<p> -"That is all very plausible," said Fenton, "but -the possibility of the Austrians crossing at the -wrong stream is negligible. Their plans will be -too carefully laid for any miscarriage." -</p> - -<p> -"They will cross at the wrong place!" declared -Crane triumphantly. "The wireless message that -first came through was from the officer in -command of the Austrians. He's new to this part of -the country, and, as the Bhura is starting to flood, -he wanted Miridoff to send someone over to guide -him to the best junction-point with the Ironian -troops. I wired back that one Neviloff was leaving -at once for the purpose. Well, what with the -darkness of the night, the floods and the similarity -of the two streams, Neviloff will see that they get -over the wrong one." -</p> - -<p> -"Neviloff?" The question came from Fenton -and Anna simultaneously. -</p> - -<p> -"Exactly. You see, it occurred to me that -Miridoff would have been most likely to send a man -he could rely on for a mission of this kind, and -the name is probably familiar to the Austrians." -</p> - -<p> -"Do you mean that you intend to go yourself?" -asked Fenton in surprise. -</p> - -<p> -Crane nodded. "I speak both German and -Ironian, and there ought to be a suitable uniform -around this place somewhere. Well, I ride over -to Tisza," he indicated a point on the map just -across the border, "and report to the Austrian -commander there. Luckily I've been all along -the Bhura on a surveying trip. What would be -easier on such a night than to make a mistake and -bring them over the river too soon—over into -Ironia, where the tribesmen of Take Larescu will -be waiting to provide a suitable welcome? The -plan can't go wrong." -</p> - -<p> -"You propose to decide the fate of Ironia on a -gambler's throw," said Fenton. "It's a wonderful -scheme, Crane. But, man, do you realise -what it would mean to you? You take your life -in your hands. If they find you out they'll shoot -you on the spot. It will be a Hungarian troop -sent for this work, and the Magyars are a vindictive -lot. But even if you escape detection at first -they would certainly suspect when they discovered -they had been led astray." -</p> - -<p> -"No danger at all," said the Englishman easily. -"I've got it all figured out, and there's not one -chance in a hundred of failure. When the -fighting starts, I slip away easily enough. Now, -Fenton, you get started on your part of the -undertaking, which is to have Larescu on hand with -a couple of thousand of his men to drive the -Austrians back. We'll have to take a chance on -the Ironian troops not moving out. I don't think -they will. In all probability Miridoff intended to -ride over there and direct things himself. Not -hearing from him, they will wait for further -orders." -</p> - -<p> -Fenton grasped Crane's hand warmly. -</p> - -<p> -"Phil, it is worth trying," he said. "If it -succeeds, the credit for deciding the final outcome -of the Great War may belong to you. I wish I -could go with you." -</p> - -<p> -"When Mr Crane returns I shall tell him how -wonderful it is I think him to be," said Anna, -shaking his hand in turn. -</p> - -<p> -"I'm coming back right enough," replied -Crane, with a steady regard, and retaining her -hand the while. "And when I do, I shall have -something myself to say to you." -</p> - -<p> -Half an hour later, warmly cloaked, and booted -and spurred, Crane rode down the mountain-side -toward the Bhura River. Looking back he could -see a beacon light burning brightly on one of the -highest peaks, and he knew that Larescu was -gathering his band for the night's work. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap21"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XXI -<br /><br /> -PLANNING A FUTURE -</h3> - -<p> -As the hours passed the hill country awoke to -restless activity. On several prominent peaks the -beacon fires blazed, summoning the followers of -Take Larescu. From all sides they began to troop -in, silent, grotesque, armed to the teeth. The -glen, along the ridge of which Fenton had carried -his bride earlier that night, was soon crowded with -the hill men. By midnight more than a thousand -had assembled, and from all directions they were -still coming at the urgent summons of the flaring -beacons. -</p> - -<p> -Take Larescu took charge of the situation and -skilfully wrought order out of chaos. He organised -his followers into detachments, and to each -allotted positions along the stretch of foot-hills -where the Austrians would be awaited. On -receiving their instructions from the gigantic master -of ceremonies, the detachments moved off into the -enshrouding darkness as silently as they had -come. The oddly garbed figures coming and -going in the flickering light of torches, the -war-like gestures, made the whole proceedings seem -a phantasm of the imagination, a wild, strange -dream. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton, wearing the military cloak of Miridoff, -watched proceedings from a vantage point in the -rear. He had early found that Take Larescu was -master of the situation, and had discreetly -withdrawn into the background. Larescu had fought -through several campaigns, and had gained a -reputation as the Napoleon of mountain warfare. -He could be counted upon to give the Austrians a -warm reception. -</p> - -<p> -A light touch on the Canadian's arm caused -him to turn. Olga had come quietly behind him. -She was muffled snugly and warmly in a heavy -cloak with a hood, so that Fenton could discern -little else but a pair of glowing eyes. -</p> - -<p> -"We have much to talk about, my lord," she -said happily, placing an arm through his. "Could -you not give me a few minutes now?" -</p> - -<p> -"I am at your service for eternity," he replied. -"There is nothing for me to do here in any -case. Larescu has taken everything into his own -hands." -</p> - -<p> -The night air was cold. Fenton guided his wife -up a steep and rocky path that led to the foot of -the beacon light, in which the fire was now dying -down. At the foot was a smooth rock of some -size, and here they seated themselves. Fenton's -arm found its way protectingly around the slender -form of his princess-bride, and the lovely hooded -head nestled back against his shoulder. -</p> - -<p> -"I have won you after all!" exclaimed the -Canadian exultingly. "It is hard to realise that -you are really my wife—and yet I felt right from -the first that nothing could keep us apart. We -were intended for each other, even if half the globe -did separate us." -</p> - -<p> -"One can see the hand of Fate in it all," -whispered Olga. "I think it must have all been -planned by One Who is mightier than we are. For -you see I had made up my mind to give you up. -Nothing could have induced me to marry you, -dear, of my own free will." -</p> - -<p> -"Olga!" cried Fenton indignantly. "Then -you don't love me after all? If you really loved -me, nothing could have kept you from me in the -end." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, dear boy, I loved you—from the first, I -think," she replied, looking up. -</p> - -<p> -Seating directly beneath the beacon, they were -partly in the shade, and Fenton could not see -her very clearly, but he discerned enough of the -loving message in her eyes to bring about an -extended interruption of the conversation. -</p> - -<p> -"That will do, Donald," she said finally. Then -she laughed—the happy, light laugh of one who -loves and is loved, which begins without cause and -ends as suddenly as it begins. "It is the first -time I have said your funny name, husband mine. -Did I say it right?" -</p> - -<p> -"I hope I never hear anyone else uttering the -name," said Fenton ecstatically. "After hearing -it on your lips it would seem profanation from any -other source." -</p> - -<p> -"It is rather a nice name, although it seemed so -strange at first," she said judicially, as she -repeated it over several times almost in a whisper. -"I used to wonder if I could ever come to call you -that." -</p> - -<p> -"Now you've given yourself away," cried -Fenton triumphantly. "If you wondered that, you -couldn't have made up your mind that you would -give me up." -</p> - -<p> -"I have indulged much in day dreams since I -met you, dear," she said, "but—it would have -made no difference. My father would never have -consented to my marrying you, not even if you -had saved his life many times and had been a -thousand times too good for an ignorant little -Ironian princess—as you are. And I would never -have disobeyed him. You do not understand us, -my own. We Ironians are bound by custom, by -traditions of which you have no conception in your -free country. It would have broken my heart, -but—I would have remained Princess Olga all my life." -</p> - -<p> -Fenton was silent, pondering this thought, terrifying -to him even in negative perspective. -</p> - -<p> -"But I am now quite free in my conscience," -she went on. "I thought to save my father's life -by marrying the man I feared, and the good -Father of all gave me instead the man I loved. It -must have been Mis will that I should come to -you. And so I look forward to the future before -us with no misgivings, dark though it may be at -times. And I am so happy." -</p> - -<p> -There was another and longer interruption. -The suggestion of future troubles contained in her -words was welcome to Fenton, for it promised an -opportunity to protect her, to assert his right and -power to shield her. His arm about her tightened -almost fiercely. -</p> - -<p> -"I begin to see that after all I owe a lot to -Miridoff," he said. -</p> - -<p> -"You will have to take me away from Ironia," -said Olga, a little out of breath from the ardour -of her husband's embrace. "I could never go -back to court. My father will refuse to forgive me -at first, and will perhaps talk of having our -marriage set aside. But in time he will perhaps -learn to forgive his wayward girl." She paused -for a moment. -</p> - -<p> -"You see what you have done," she went on -with a gaiety that did not entirely mask the strain -of sadness beneath. "Tell me, my lord and -master, what you are going to do with me now? -I begin a new life with you." -</p> - -<p> -"The future will be in your hands as much as -in mine," replied Fenton. "When the war is -over we shall travel all over the world. Then will -come the question of settling down, of building a -permanent nest. I hope when the time comes you -will have found no place more to your liking than -my own country." -</p> - -<p> -"I would go anywhere with you," she said -confidently. "I have made up my mind on one -thing, never to let you out of my sight. If you -go where the fighting is to-night I go too." -</p> - -<p> -"That you do not," said Fenton, laughing -with cool masculine assumption. "Darling, I -am going to take you back at once to the lodge, -and you must go right to bed and to sleep. You -need rest. And in the morning I shall bring you -news of the repulse of the invaders." -</p> - -<p> -"No," said Olga determinedly, "I could not -sleep. I must go with you. There will be no -danger. There are many women down there in -the glen. And, see—I came prepared. I shall -be quite safe with you in this costume." -</p> - -<p> -She threw back her cloak and stood revealed in -the dress of a woman of the hills. She made a -pretty gipsy figure in her bright-coloured garb. -Fenton took her face in both his hands and shook -his head at her adoringly, submissively. -</p> - -<p> -"You shall have your own way," he said, "in -this and, I am afraid, in most things. I begin to -realise how well fitted you are for the new world, -where women have found the way to get everything -they want." -</p> - -<p> -They returned slowly to the glen below, and -Larescu greeted Fenton with a roar of exultation. -</p> - -<p> -"They come!" he cried. "One of my men -has brought the word. The Austrians are crossing -the river!" -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap22"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XXII -<br /><br /> -IRONIA INVADED -</h3> - -<p> -The Austrian cavalry regiment, which had ridden -out of Tisza shortly before midnight, with Crane -in the van, struck the Bhura River a mile below the -point where the first tributary branched off. The -night was so dark that it was impossible to see very -far ahead even with the assistance of the torches -that a few of the troopers had attached to the ends -of their lances. The roads were so muddy that but -slow progress was made. Evidences of the floods -farther up the river had already been encountered -at points where the road ran close to the river -banks. -</p> - -<p> -Crane reined in his horse and turned to the -officer who rode beside him. -</p> - -<p> -"A small stream runs south from the Bhura a -mile ahead and it is there we should cross," he said -in German, "but I am doubtful if it will be -possible to get over. See, the water is rising higher -all the time. There is a bridge not a hundred -yards ahead of us—unless the rising water has -already swept it away. I propose that we cross -there. It may be impossible higher up." -</p> - -<p> -"It is well advised what you suggest," replied -the officer. "I am worried, however, about the -possibilities of the return trip. Suppose the floods -rise so rapidly that it will be impossible to recross -the river? We should be trapped on Russian soil!" -</p> - -<p> -Crane shrugged his shoulders. -</p> - -<p> -"Our orders cover only the advance," he said. -"After we have carried out that which has been -entrusted to us—the return is strictly our -business. For the mission on which we are bound, it -might be better if none of us returned. Austrian -and Ironian troops massacred on Russian soil -would surely bring about war." -</p> - -<p> -"I don't fear to die," said the officer. "But I -would prefer to fall in open battle and not in an -obscure border affray. But, as you say, we have -our orders to follow. Nothing else need count. -God! it is dark! A horrible night for our -purpose, Neviloff!" -</p> - -<p> -"An admirable night," said Crane. "We can -carry out our raid under the cover of this darkness -and get safely back across the border without loss. -If the floods let us, that is." -</p> - -<p> -"Hein! we are into the water now," ejaculated -the officer, reining in his horse. -</p> - -<p> -"The road is low here and the water has come -up over it," said Crane, peering intently ahead. -"But the gods are with us. I can see the bridge -ahead; it is still holding. We had better get -across while we may." -</p> - -<p> -The troop clattered across the bridge at a smart -gallop and turned up a road on the Ironian side of -the Bhura which was still quite dry. Ten minutes -brought them to the first stream. It was swollen -with the rising water, but, being only a narrow -creek, was still fordable. -</p> - -<p> -"Across there is Russia," said Crane, pointing -over the stream. "My troops are crossing some -miles below and will join us near the first village. -We must lose no time. Every minute now lessens -our chances of getting back over the Bhura -alive." -</p> - -<p> -"It's strange," said the officer. "I didn't think -we were so close to the Russian frontier. Are -there not two streams branching south from the -Bhura?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," replied Crane hastily, "there is another -stream behind us. We passed it some time before -we reached the flooded section." -</p> - -<p> -Orders were passed along the line of troops and -the work of crossing the turgid stream began. -The horses balked at the brink and had to be -beaten and spurred into the swirling flood; so that -the passage of the regiment was a noisy one with -much shouting and cursing and snapping of whips. -</p> - -<p> -On the other side the troops formed up and -followed Crane along a narrow lane that led back -on a slowly ascending scale toward the foot-hills. -</p> - -<p> -Almost before they knew it, the regiment had -ridden into a small hamlet. Darkened houses lined -each side of the road, and just ahead of them loomed -the spire of a church. The noise of the galloping -horses aroused no signs of life, and this made Crane -feel certain that they had reached the appointed -place. It had been arranged that Larescu was to -warn the villagers to make good their escape. -</p> - -<p> -The troops set about their work with eagerness, -even with noisy gusto. They broke in doors and -windows and set fire to the houses. Soon one end -of the village was in flames, and in the bright light -that suffused the whole, the fact that the village -was deserted became apparent. -</p> - -<p> -The officer in command, plainly uneasy, rode up -to Crane, who had kept in the van with his eyes -open for a chance to make good his escape. The -Austrian was clearly suspicious. -</p> - -<p> -"Not a soul in the place," he said. "Why -not? Someone carried word of our plans ahead -of us; that must be it. What's this?" -</p> - -<p> -The rattle of musketry broke out ahead of them. -Some of the men, getting in advance of the line, -had been fired on from the bush in which the long, -single street of the village terminated. As if by -magic, though no one knew whence it came, the -word passed down the ranks: "Ironian troops -are firing on us." And, as a natural corollary, -the most discerning saw and voiced what had happened. -</p> - -<p> -"We have burned an Ironian village," said the -officer who rode by Crane. -</p> - -<p> -The latter sensed trouble. -</p> - -<p> -"No you don't," came sharply from the -Austrian, as Crane put spurs into his horse. -</p> - -<p> -But the Englishman was putting yards and more -yards between him and the officer. He did not -hesitate now. He knew that his safety depended -upon his ability to get away at once. Kicking the -steel into his horse's flanks, he started into a wild -gallop. Guttural but loud shouts behind him -warned him of impending retribution—if they could -shoot straight. Instinctively he dropped flat over -his horse's neck. Shots rang out and one bullet -ploughed through his hair, touching and grazing -his forehead in its passage. The blood trickled down -over his brow and filtered over his eyes. He -brushed it away and found he had not been badly -hurt. But a moment later another shot apparently -hit his horse, for the animal screamed, stumbled, -and lunged forward on its knees. -</p> - -<p> -Crane hurtled over its head and came down with -a thud on the rough muddy road. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap23"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XXIII -<br /> -CRANE'S ESCAPE -</h3> - -<p> -When Crane returned to consciousness he found -himself lying in a cramped and painful position on -a rough clay surface. -</p> - -<p> -He fell into a violent fit of coughing. The -atmosphere about him was smoke-charged and -stiflingly close and hot. A steady, crackling sound -above gradually impressed itself upon his groping -mind with startling import. He was lying under -the shelter of a burning building. -</p> - -<p> -After many futile attempts, Crane managed to -struggle into a sitting position. The light from -the burning roof provided sufficient illumination to -enable him to see that the hamlet was deserted and -given over to the ravages of the fire which had -gained such headway that to remain longer where -he was would be fatal. The wall above him might -crumble in at any time. Breathing had become -difficult and painful. The smoke that filled his -lungs shook him with rasping, suffocating spells -of coughing. Dimly he heard sounds of receding -conflict beyond the village. -</p> - -<p> -Crane struggled to his feet and lurched weakly -forward, blinded with the smoke. Next moment, -overcome with the intense heat, he fainted dead -away. -</p> - -<p> -It was some time after that Crane again regained -consciousness. This time he was lying on the -ground, his head reclining comfortably on a -pillow made of some folded garment. A -water-soaked bandage encircled his brow, giving -inexpressible relief. He attempted to pull himself -together and sit up, but desisted from the effort -with an involuntary groan. -</p> - -<p> -"Hello, here's old Crane coming around after -all," said the voice of Fenton, somewhere close at -hand. -</p> - -<p> -"Right as rain in a minute," said Crane -weakly. Then, after a pause, "Where am I?" -</p> - -<p> -"Don't know exactly myself," said Fenton. -"We got you out of the burning village just in -the nick of time and carried you back into the -woods here. How are you feeling now?" -</p> - -<p> -"A little brandy would make a new man of me. -Any handy?" -</p> - -<p> -A flask, containing some raw, red-hot Ironian -equivalent, was produced and a liberal measure -poured down his throat. Crane coughed, spluttered -and finally sat up, little the worse for wear, but -still weak and decidedly giddy in the head. -</p> - -<p> -"What happened?" he demanded. -</p> - -<p> -"Everything went off as per schedule," said -Fenton. "The Austrians started to set fire to the -village, and then Larescu and his men opened fire -on them. The invaders put up a short fight and -retired with more precipitancy than order. Last -I saw of it, they were headed for the river with the -hill men in hot pursuit. If the river has continued -to rise, the Austrians will have some difficulty in -getting back to their own side. I didn't join in -the chase as I was getting anxious about you. -Luckily, Mademoiselle Petrowa found you and -managed to drag you out of the road just -before the front of a burning hut collapsed on you." -</p> - -<p> -"Mademoiselle Petrowa! Now what, on the -word of a bald-headed friar, was she doing there?" -exclaimed Crane. -</p> - -<p> -A soft voice, proceeding from some point close -behind him, spoke up. -</p> - -<p> -"It is indeed the great pleasure that Mistaire -Crane has recovered. One judges from his -choice of words that he is feeling much the -better." -</p> - -<p> -"I have a double duty to perform then—to -thank you for saving my life and to lecture you for -your folly in being where you could do it," said -Crane, with a return of his habitual manner. -</p> - -<p> -"My good friend, the brave Mistaire Crane will -please forget the thanks and save the lectures until -he is stronger," insisted Anna. "If I have been -foolish, it has been in the best company. Her -highness was helping in the search for you." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, they both insisted on coming along," put -in Fenton. "I had the greatest difficulty in keeping -them off the firing-line. If all the women of -Ironia are as fiery as the pair I've had on my -hands to-night, I shall feel the deepest compassion -for any army that attempts the invasion of the -country!" -</p> - -<p> -"I'll never forgive myself for this night's -work," said Crane dejectedly. "I bungled things -badly in not getting away in time. Then Mademoiselle -has to risk her very valuable life to save -my very worthless one——" -</p> - -<p> -It was still dark. A soft hand from somewhere -was slipped confidingly into his. Crane did not -finish the sentence. -</p> - -<p> -A moment later a gipsy-clad girl, who had been -sitting silently by during the dialogue, rose -unobtrusively and led Fenton away. -</p> - -<p> -"I am glad," whispered the princess. "I -don't mind confessing now that I have been very -jealous of your Mademoiselle Petrowa." -</p> - -<p class="thought"> -***** -<br /> -</p> - -<p> -With the first light of dawn came Take Larescu, -an unsheathed sword in his hand. The gigantic -leader of the hill men was mud-stained and -dishevelled, but thoroughly well pleased with himself. -</p> - -<p> -"Not an Austrian remains on the sacred soil of -our Ironia," he declared, mopping his brow with -a bright silk handkerchief, drawn from his belt, -"except a hundred or so who will never go back. -And more good news for you, my young friend. -A party of my men have burned Kirkalisse to the -ground. Everything comes to him who strikes -while the iron is hot." -</p> - -<p> -For a moment Fenton said nothing. Then: -"Kirkalisse burnt. Miridoff dead. Austrian -invasion of Ironian soil. Ironian rout of the -Austrians. This is news. It must be got to -Serajoz, and that at once." -</p> - -<p> -"As to the raid of the Austrians," replied the -brigand chief, "I have already arranged that part -of it. Messengers have been sent east, west and -south. All Ironia will know within the next -twenty-four hours that our country has been -invaded, and that means——" -</p> - -<p> -"That war is certain," Fenton finished the -sentence spiritedly. -</p> - -<p> -Neither spoke for a second. Then the hill leader -drew Fenton closer and whispered to him: "We -captured several of Miridoff's men at Kirkalisse." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. What did you find out?" -</p> - -<p> -"They told us all they knew. One of them was -the young gipsy who had been sent with a token—the -princess's ring, was it not?—which, as I was -able to understand it, was to stop a proposed -assassination of Prince Peter. But he had not been -able to find his man, to warn him." -</p> - -<p> -Fenton started. In a moment he visualised all -that this item of news meant. Was, then, -Miridoff's death of no avail? -</p> - -<p> -"Do you mean, then," he asked, "that the -assassin has done his work?" -</p> - -<p> -"No. Prince Peter, it appears, changed his -plans and returned to Serajoz by another route." -</p> - -<p> -"Thank God! Then everything will be all right." -</p> - -<p> -"I don't know," said Larescu, shaking his -shaggy head. "The assassin has followed him on -the road. But I think the prince had start enough, -from what I hear, to get to Serajoz a good few -hours before the assassin could come up with him. -Nevertheless, someone should go to the capital -immediately." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, you are right," broke in the Canadian. -"I shall go myself. Find me a guide back -through the mountains." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap24"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XXIV -<br /><br /> -THE NEW KING -</h3> - -<p> -King Alexander of Ironia stood in an embrasure -of the royal council room. He appeared to be -gazing over the crowded, turbulent Lodz, but in -reality he saw nothing; nor did the wild clamour -that rose from the mob-ridden square in front of the -palace reach his ears. The King stared into space -while angry emotions ran riot in his mind. Adamant -determination, black anger and futile longing -for strength to combat his aroused subjects, filled -the brain of the baffled monarch. A truly royal -figure he appeared, standing there alone by the -window—arms folded on his breast, mouth set in -ominous lines, staring out into space as silent and -as motionless as bronze. -</p> - -<p> -Back in the council room a number of men were -seated around a long table, conversing in low tones -and furtively regarding the solitary figure of the -monarch. -</p> - -<p> -"His Majesty will never give in," said Danilo -Vanilis, the shrewdest and strongest of the King's -councillors. "I know him. He has sworn not to -fight Potsdam—and he will die rather than break -his pledge." -</p> - -<p> -"But he can't resist longer," interjected another. -"The Austrian invasion has stirred the country up -from one end to the other. The army clamours for -war. Officers, who have been known to favour the -Austrian cause, have been forcibly ejected. There -is not a man left in Ironia to back the King. He -must give in." -</p> - -<p> -"Look at him," said Vanilis. "There he stands, -like a lion at bay; see the poise of his head, the set -of the lips, the brooding light in the eyes. Alexander -would stand fast if the whole world took sides -against him; he would fight single-handed against -the hosts of the Archangel. It is as pitiable as -it is strange that such determination, such grand -devotion, should have found its vent only in -upholding a tradition!" -</p> - -<p> -"Still more strange that the Austrians should -have committed this open act of war," whispered -a third. "It was rumoured that Miridoff had a -carefully concocted scheme that would inevitably -result in plunging us into war with the Russians. -Then, like a bolt from the blue, comes this mad -exploit of the Austrians. And, strangest of all, -Miridoff himself has disappeared." -</p> - -<p> -"It can only be understood when it is explained -that it occurred in the mountains," said a fourth. -"Anything can happen there. Take Larescu led -the force which drove the Austrians back over the -Bhura. Mark my word, Larescu is at the bottom -of this. And, what is more, I am convinced that -Miridoff has been killed." -</p> - -<p> -"And not too soon!" A murmured chorus of -assent ran around the board. Vanilis, after a -pause, went on, speaking in a low tone: "It is -strange that Peter has not returned. He was to -have been with us. You all heard the rumour that -an attempt would be made to assassinate him on -his way back. It cannot be that——" -</p> - -<p> -He paused. There was no need to finish the -sentence, for the faces of all the company advertised -the fact that the same fear had entered the mind of -each man there. It was a disquieting thought; -for all men recognised now that the strong hand -of Prince Peter was needed at the helm. -</p> - -<p> -"Gentlemen!" -</p> - -<p> -The King had faced about. Slowly, with white, -set face and dignified stride, His Majesty walked -back to the head of the table. He glanced coldly -about the board. -</p> - -<p> -"You have demanded that we sign this -monstrous paper," he said, his voice hard. "An -ungrateful country clamours for war. Our word -has been pledged that Ironia shall not join in the -war against the German empires. That word -must stand. Sirs, we refuse absolutely to sign this -iniquitous declaration!" -</p> - -<p> -"Recollect what this refusal means, sire," -urged Vanilis. "The army is determined. Even -the household guards have joined in the -clamour. Sire, your life might even be placed in jeopardy?" -</p> - -<p> -"Our life is of no value beside our honour," said -Alexander, with dignified scorn. He reached into -the breast of his uniform and drew out a document, -which he threw, almost contemptuously, on the -table before him. "There is our answer. The -hand of Alexander will never sign the order that -declares this war. But, sirs, if on war you are -bent, war you shall have. We gladly lay down the -distasteful task of ruling a nation of ingrates." -</p> - -<p> -The men round the table sat silent. But each -of them knew that the paper was the King's -abdication! -</p> - -<p> -As he turned the sound of sudden tumultuous -cheering came up to them from the streets below. -It was almost as though the news of the stubborn -King's dramatic exit had been translated by some -speedy telepathy to the eager crowds without. -Alexander frowned bitterly and turned back to the -silent company about the council table. -</p> - -<p> -"They cheer now," he said grimly. "What -will they do after your mad determination and their -lust has flooded the country in blood—and German -Uhlans ride down the Lodz? Sirs, I have warned -you. The ruin of Ironia be on your heads!" -</p> - -<p> -"We do not fear that!" cried Vanilis. "We -fight for the provinces that were stolen from us, and -God will be with us." -</p> - -<p> -Alexander did not reply. He walked slowly -from the room, head held proudly high, one hand -clenched across his breast, the other pressed tightly -on his sword hilt. -</p> - -<p> -"The King is dead," uttered one of the men, -almost with awe. "Long live the——" -</p> - -<p> -"Long live King Peter!" cried another, with -enthusiasm. -</p> - -<p> -For a door at the other end of the hall had opened -to admit the prince. His sudden arrival was the -cause, obviously, of the clamour that had broken -out in the square below. Prince Peter was flushed -with rapid riding and spattered with mud. It was -clear that he had ridden far and fast to attend this -momentous conference. -</p> - -<p> -"Gentlemen, it is war!" he cried, with high -enthusiasm. "The country through which I have -come is literally ablaze. Nothing can hold us -back now. Austria has struck the first blow. And -I bring you news. The Russian armies move on -Mulkovina to-morrow. Ironia must declare -herself to-day." -</p> - -<p> -Danilo Vanilis, sitting at the end of the table, -rose and held a paper out toward him. -</p> - -<p> -"All that is needed is the signature of His -Majesty the King. Sign, sire!" -</p> - -<p> -Peter gazed at the other for a moment, growing -wonderment on his face. Then he glanced quickly -around the crowded board. -</p> - -<p> -"Alexander abdicated five minutes ago. King -Peter now rules in Ironia," announced Vanilis -with a low bow. -</p> - -<p> -Peter was a man of quick comprehension and -decision. He grasped the pen. -</p> - -<p> -"That king is fortunate," he declared, "whose -first duty is to fight a cause so dear to the hearts -of the people over whom he has been called to rule! -To-night, sirs, we leave for the front!" -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap25"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XXV -<br /><br /> -THE ASSASSINATION -</h3> - -<p> -Events moved fast in Ironia. At five o'clock -Peter was publicly declared King, the announcement -being received with manifestations of the -wildest joy in Serajoz. At five-thirty an official -statement of Ironia's intentions was communicated -to the Ambassadors of Austria, Germany and -Turkey, and their passports were handed to them. -At six o'clock the first regiment marched out of -the capital for the front, through streets lined with -deliriously happy multitudes. -</p> - -<p> -The work of mobilisation was begun in feverish -haste. King Peter spent three hours directing -the efforts of the general staff and in conference -with the leading bankers. As he worked, -however, the new monarch never for a moment lost -sight of the grim spectre that had haunted him -for two days. Varden had brought him word of -the abduction of Olga just as he was preparing for -his trip to the frontier. Since then he had heard -no news of her. -</p> - -<p> -A Spartan in everything else, Peter had been -the most loving and indulgent of fathers. Olga, -left an orphan when less than a year old, had soon -gained complete possession of her father's heart. -He had pampered and petted her in quite as -complete a degree as any fond parent that ever ruined -a child in sheer blindness of affection; but Olga, -having one of those rare natures that cannot be -spoiled, even by parental indulgence, had -developed greater stores of sweetness and grace in -the strong light of her father's love. It can be -surmised, therefore, that when the news of the -abduction of the princess had reached him he had -been thrown into a ferment of fear; but, knowing -how much the welfare of Ironia depended upon -him, Peter had delayed his departure only long -enough to issue instructions for the pursuit of her -abductors. -</p> - -<p> -The news awaiting him on his return had been -disquieting. No direct clue as to her whereabouts -had been found, although there was plenty -of evidence to show that the abduction had been -the work of brigands from the hills. It was with -a heavy heart, therefore, that Peter applied -himself to the multitudinous duties devolving upon -him with his sudden accession to the throne of -Ironia on the eve of her entry into the war. -</p> - -<p> -Outside the demonstration continued, growing -in enthusiasm as hour succeeded hour. Military -headquarters were besieged by men begging for -an opportunity to enlist. A statue in the square -before the royal palace, representing the lost -provinces, was literally covered with flowers. The -public streets were rendered quite impassable by -the masses of exuberant citizens who loudly -acclaimed the new King, and clamoured for a -sight of him. -</p> - -<p> -About the time that His Majesty rose from the -desk to which he had been chained for three hours -of unremitting activity, Fenton, weary and dust-laden, -astride a foam-flecked horse, turned into the -north end of the Lodz. On receiving the startling -intelligence that the human instrument of Miridoff's -foul purpose had followed Prince Peter to the -capital, intent on carrying out his work, Fenton -had at once secured a guide from Larescu and had -negotiated a difficult short cut through the -mountain country. Arriving at the base of the chain of -hills in the early forenoon, he had procured a -horse. An all-day gallop with one change of -mount in the late afternoon, brought him to the -city about nine o'clock, in a condition bordering -on total collapse. Since his arrival in Ironia, -Fenton had found little opportunity for sleep, and -his exploits had been as varied as they were -arduous. By sheer force of will only was he able -to maintain his seat in the saddle. -</p> - -<p> -The presence of dense crowds in the Lodz did -not surprise him; all the way down from the hill -country he had found increasing evidences of -excitement which satisfied him that Crane's spectacular -coup had finally brought Ironia into the war. -</p> - -<p> -As the density of the crowd grew he was forced -to abandon his mount and continue forward toward -the palace of the prince on foot. It became very -slow work, until finally Fenton's patience gave -way. Fearing that every moment lost might cost -the prince his life, Fenton broke recklessly through -the crush which inevitably brought him into -conflict in a crowd where the fighting spirit ran so -high. As he crossed the square in front of the -King's palace a much excited and picturesquely -ragged man blocked his way determinedly. Fenton -roughly elbowed him aside and received in -reprisal a blow in the face. His assailant poured -out a volume of abuse in French, which caused -the Canadian to turn and regard him curiously. -To his delight Fenton recognised his acquaintance -of the Greek restaurant, Monsieur Francois Dubois. -</p> - -<p> -"Dubois, by all that's holy!" he cried. "It's -lucky I can claim a prior acquaintance, otherwise -I fear you would be inclined to show me no mercy. -You have plenty of strength left in that arm of -yours, my friend." -</p> - -<p> -"Monsieur Fenton," cried the Frenchman. -"Ah, my young friend, forgive me. I have -strength left, yes—strength to shoulder a rifle, -monsieur. To-morrow I enlist for the service." -</p> - -<p> -"I am just back from the hill country," said -Fenton. "What is the news? Has war been -declared yet?" -</p> - -<p> -"War was declared by our good King Peter -within an hour of his accession to the throne," -cried the Frenchman. -</p> - -<p> -"King Peter!" exclaimed Fenton, surveying -Monsieur Dubois as though he feared the Frenchman -had been suddenly bereft of his senses. -</p> - -<p> -"It was just as I told you, monsieur. Alexander -would not give in. When he found that war could -no longer be staved off he abdicated, and Peter -became King." -</p> - -<p> -"Then I must lose no time," cried Fenton. -"It is doubly important that I get to him at once. -I have news of a plot against his life." -</p> - -<p> -He plunged with reckless haste through the -crowds, opening an avenue by sheer force, and -thus enabling Monsieur Dubois to follow along in -his wake without difficulty. -</p> - -<p> -"Make way! In the name of the King!" cried -the Frenchman in the native tongue. This caused -the people in front to give way. Nevertheless the -progress of the pair was intolerably slow. -</p> - -<p> -There is an emotional strain in the Ironian -which manifests itself in moments of stress and -unusual excitement. When stirred by any deep -emotion he will emit strange cries and break into -high-pitched interminable chants. To the visitor -this tendency is inexplicable, and it has contributed -not a little to the feeling among other races -that there is something uncanny about the men of -the Balkan mountains. As Fenton piloted Monsieur -Dubois through the square this monotonous -chant arose from all sides, and, mingling with the -shrill and warlike cries, created a literal -pandemonium of sound. -</p> - -<p> -As they neared the front of the palace there was -a stir which indicated that something of importance -was happening. As Fenton looked the windows -opening on to a balcony to the right of the main -entrance were thrown back and two officers stepped -out. The noise ceased almost instantly, and a -silence settled down over the square. Following -the two officers came Peter, in uniform and -bare-headed. He stepped to the front of the balcony, -and, resting his hands on the top of the grotesquely -ornamental iron railing, swept the crowded square -and the streets beyond with a proud eye. -</p> - -<p> -His appearance was the signal for an outbreak -even more vociferous than before. Peter had -always been popular with the people of Ironia, -more popular than the haughty, unbending -Alexander. His advocacy of the allied cause had -cemented the affection of the populace, and now -his prompt action following his accession to the -throne raised him as a national hero even to the -pinnacle of Alexander Sobiesku of revered memory. -</p> - -<p> -The King raised his hand as a signal for silence, -and again the noise died down to the uncertain -rumble of a mob at rest. Fenton, wedged in -firmly and unable to make any material progress -either forward or back, had up to this point kept -his gaze fixed on the stately figure of the King. -Now his glance wandered to a burly fellow just -ahead of him, a peasant from his garb. The man -attracted Fenton's attention in some inexplicable -way, and as the Canadian watched he perceived -something which caused him to cry out in frantic -tones of alarm. -</p> - -<p> -"Men of Ironia," the King began in clear tones -that carried each word distinctly to the farthest -confines of the square. Then of a sudden came -the sharp crack of a revolver shot, and Peter -staggered back from the railing into the arms of -the officers behind him. -</p> - -<p> -The peasant had levelled a revolver over the -shoulder of the man in front of him. Fenton, -perceiving the move, had torn a path through the -press toward the assassin. His hands had closed -almost on the peasant's shoulder when the -explosion broke the silence. -</p> - -<p> -"Too late! My God, to have him within my -reach and not stop him," groaned Fenton, stunned -with the catastrophe that had occurred before his -very eyes. -</p> - -<p> -He reeled blindly in the rush of the enraged -mob and was buffeted here and there. The -gun-man had apparently been surrounded by accomplices -and friends, for the vengeance-seeking mob -was held back and hampered in its pursuit of -the daring peasant. In the darkness and confusion -the assassin disappeared, swallowed up in the -agitated sea of humanity. Two days later he was -given up and summarily shot; but, having no -foreknowledge of this, the crowd, balked of their -prey and frantic with anxiety for the wounded -monarch, descended to depths of vengeful, berserk -fury that could vent itself only in indiscriminate -conflict. Friend fought friend, blows were -struck with savage hate, blood flowed freely. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton found himself propelled out of the now -almost bestial crowd to a side street where -comparative calm reigned. Monsieur Dubois, -guessing how near to the point of total collapse his -companion was, hurried Fenton to the nearest -open shop and there procured a brimming beaker -of strong liquor. After drinking the restorative -Fenton felt a measure of his strength return. -</p> - -<p> -"Another moment and Monsieur Fenton would -have been under the feet of the mob," said the -Frenchman. "They are wild for blood back -there! Hearken to their cries! If the King dies, -not an Austrian will be left alive in this city by -break of day." -</p> - -<p> -"If he dies!" echoed Fenton in an agony of -remorse. "To think that I arrived just too late. -If he dies I shall feel as guilty as the wretch who -fired the shot!" -</p> - -<p> -"He cannot—he must not die!" cried Dubois. -"Ironia needs the strong hand of her King now. -God will not take him away when he has but -placed his hand to the plough." -</p> - -<p class="thought"> -***** -<br /> -</p> - -<p> -Back in the palace two physicians were bending -over the prostrate figure of the wounded King -with significant silence. -</p> - -<p> -"He still lives," said one finally, "but——" -</p> - -<p> -And the other nodded with grim acquiescence. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap26"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XXVI -<br /><br /> -THE DEATH OF THE KING -</h3> - -<p> -It was noon when Fenton awoke the next day. -He awoke to a sense of unfamiliar surroundings. -Above him was a ceiling of dingy, brownish hue. -The walls, he discovered on investigation, were -similar to the ceiling and unadorned save for a -few dusty old French prints. The bed on which -he lay was hard and lumpy, the coverlet ancient -and thin. There was a faint mustiness observable -in the atmosphere and through a half-closed door -came the sound of a bow softly scraping the strings -of a decrepit violin. Fenton sat bolt upright in -bed and examined his surroundings with much -surprise and, truth to tell, a little alarm. -</p> - -<p> -The fact that he was awake was thus communicated -to the musician in the other room; for a -shuffling step crossed the floor and the head of -Monsieur Dubois was poked inquiringly through -the door. -</p> - -<p> -"Now I understand," said Fenton, putting one -leg out of the bed, and groaning with the effort—for -a full day in the saddle will leave its effects on -the most experienced horseman. -</p> - -<p> -"Monsieur is surprised," said the old Frenchman, -coming into the room with his violin in one -hand—a rather crazy, poverty-stricken kind of -violin—and the bow in the other. "It was this -way. Monsieur Fenton was quite so fatigued that -he fell sound asleep in the café and nothing could -arouse him. Luckily my lodgings were close by -and, with the help of a stout young fellow, who -will return to-day for some compensation, which -I had to promise, not having anything by me"—this -apologetically—"we managed to get monsieur -here and to bed. I trust that monsieur is feeling -much better?" -</p> - -<p> -Fenton was already out of bed and in the middle -of his toilet. He dressed hurriedly, albeit stiffly. -</p> - -<p> -"What news is there?" he asked gravely. -"What of the King?" -</p> - -<p> -An expression of sadness came into the fine eyes -of the old exile. -</p> - -<p> -"It is indeed the great catastrophe, monsieur," -he said. "The King is dying. I have just come -from the palace where the official bulletins are -published. He has not recovered consciousness. The -physicians hold out no hope." -</p> - -<p> -Fenton's worst fears were realised. It was some -minutes before he could recover sufficient -composure to go on. -</p> - -<p> -"Has the assassin been caught?" he asked. -</p> - -<p> -Monsieur Dubois shook his head. Then lines -of anger and determination showed around his eyes -and mouth. He elevated one arm and shook the -bow menacingly. "The arch assassin, he shall -pay for this!" he exclaimed. "It is told -everywhere on the streets that it was Miridoff who -planned the murder of the King—the strong King -who was needed to lead Ironia to victory. Ironia -has a heavy score to settle with Miridoff." -</p> - -<p> -"Miridoff is dead," said Fenton. -</p> - -<p> -"How do you know?" demanded the musician -eagerly. "There is nothing known of the Grand -Duke's whereabouts. Serajoz is full of the -mystery." -</p> - -<p> -"He is dead beyond all doubt," declared the -Canadian. "I killed him myself." -</p> - -<p> -Followed a brief recital of some of the principal -events in the mountains which had led up to the -capture of the hunting lodge, and the release of -the princess. Monsieur Dubois could hardly -restrain himself. At the conclusion of the narrative -he seized Fenton by both hands and poured out -a volley of incoherent praise. -</p> - -<p> -"My young friend has had a most great -honour," he wound up by saying. "It has fallen -to his lot to rescue the Queen of Ironia. What -honours shall be heaped upon him!" -</p> - -<p> -"What do you mean?" demanded Fenton, -almost roughly. -</p> - -<p> -"If Peter dies the throne will pass to the Princess -Olga," explained the other. "She is the last -of the line. Alexander is childless, and the princess -is the only child of Peter. There is no one to -dispute the throne with our beautiful Olga, who, it -is said, is just as good as she is beautiful." -</p> - -<p> -Fenton, who had suddenly sought a seat, did not -say anything. -</p> - -<p> -The musician rambled on: -</p> - -<p> -"And a great heritage she will come into, this -Queen Olga." The old Frenchman, fond as he -was of the country from which he was an exile, had -a very real regard for the welfare of the little land -where he had lived so long. "When the war is -over," his voice droned on, "Ironia will have -added again the two provinces, Serania and -Mulkovina. And I shall throw up my hat nearly as -joyfully for that as I shall for the return into the -victorious borders of La Belle France of -Alsace-Lorraine." This last appeared to overcome him -for a moment, and he paused before starting again. -</p> - -<p> -"Ironia will then have a population of ten million, -Monsieur Fenton. Think of that. She will -become a power in Europe on a scale long looked -forward to by her rulers. Then the young Queen -will have a great country to reign over." -</p> - -<p> -Fenton raised his head and clutched at a figurative -straw. "But can a woman occupy the throne -of Ironia?" -</p> - -<p> -"But certainly. She will marry, of course. -Indeed, even now they are saying on the street -that a match will be made for our Queen with a -prince of Serbia. It would be a fine stroke." The -Frenchman mooned on while Fenton sat -dumbfounded. This old man was calmly and unwittingly -puncturing the bubbles of happiness that -had engrossed the Canadian's attention since the -romantic episode of the hills. "It would cement -once again the Balkan confederacy. Some of the -glory of the past would be theirs, and more glory -than the past ever knew." -</p> - -<p> -"Supposing the princess were already married, -though?" said Fenton slowly and in a strained tone. -</p> - -<p> -"Eh?" The old Frenchman opened his eyes -sharply. "A—what you call—morganatic marriage?" -</p> - -<p> -"No," said the other impatiently. "Supposing -that the princess, not expecting to be Queen -of Ironia, had married someone quietly—not -expecting to be Queen," he repeated, as if to urge -to himself and the old man every possible means -of exit from this <i>cul-de-sac</i> that, for the first time, -he realised he had landed in. "What then?" -</p> - -<p> -"It would make no difference." Monsieur -Dubois shook his head decidedly. "It would be -set aside, my young friend. Nothing can be -allowed to stand in the way of matters of State." -</p> - -<p> -Fenton was silent for a moment. Then he stood -up and straightened his shoulders. He felt as if -he must be alone at once. "Monsieur Dubois," -he said, "you have spoken to me about the one -aim you have—to get back to France. You have -been very kind to me. Will you permit me to -reciprocate ever so little and advance the necessary -means?" -</p> - -<p> -The old man shook his head and smiled. -"They may not take me back in La Belle France. -I am an old man. But here, young and old, all -will get a chance. I shall stay, monsieur." -</p> - -<p> -He too rose and squared his shoulders. His -frame was a little bent, his hands trembled, but -there was a look of profound determination and of -profounder pride in his eyes as he shook back his -tousled grey hair. "Maybe we shall meet at the -front, Monsieur Fenton," he said. -</p> - -<p> -They did. It was two months afterward in a -field hospital along the frontier. A shell had -shattered the musician's leg. He did not recognise -Fenton, and babbled incoherently of France and -freedom. -</p> - -<p class="thought"> -***** -<br /> -</p> - -<p> -Leaving the lodgings of Monsieur Dubois, -Fenton hurried to the palace. Varden, he felt -sure, would be there. -</p> - -<p> -The streets were strangely different from what he -had known them when, barely a week before, he -had arrived in Serajoz fur the first time. The city -seemed to be one gigantic military camp. Troops -passed and repassed. The rumble of artillery was -a familiar sound, and occasioned little specific -interest. The crowds were smaller already. -Thousands of men had enlisted. They had been talking -about war for months. They were prepared. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton found Varden at the palace. The latter -was coming down the corridor which led from -the personal suite of the King. Silently Varden -gripped the hand of the Canadian, and for a -moment did not speak. Then, "Peter is dead," -he said in a low tone. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton asked the question very quietly: "When?" -</p> - -<p> -"He died a few minutes ago," returned the -other. "Come." -</p> - -<p> -Varden turned and led the way down the corridor -through knots of officials, and through the -antechamber where stood a few chosen friends and -councillors, conversing in low tones, to a small -detached office. -</p> - -<p> -They sat down. -</p> - -<p> -"Don," said Varden, "you've done wonderful -work. I've heard all about it. The princess -arrived this morning with Mademoiselle Petrowa -and that strange fellow Crane you picked up <i>en -route</i>. He's a queer fish, but I like him. I haven't -had a chance to see the princess, but the others are -full of your exploits." -</p> - -<p> -"The princess will be Queen now?" Fenton -tried to keep his voice calm, but his mind was in -a turmoil. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. I'm afraid this cooks your goose, old -chap," said Varden easily. "She's bound to have -some princeling or other for a husband now. In -fact, a match is already spoken of." -</p> - -<p> -Fenton nodded. Varden's remarks had -convinced him on one score. Anna and Crane had -said nothing about the ceremony over the tongs. -Fenton stood up, restraint and determination -mingling in his bearing. "It's quite impossible, I -suppose, for me to see—Her Majesty"—his voice -trembled slightly, then grew quite firm again. -"Percy," he said, "you can fix me up with a post -in the army? I want to be right up at the front." -</p> - -<p> -Varden nodded without any particular enthusiasm. -</p> - -<p> -"Wish I could go too," he said. "I'll get -there, of course, as soon as the matter of the -Queen's accession is settled. Until then I feel it -my duty to stay here and watch things. And that -means I'll miss the opening of the campaign." -</p> - -<p> -"Is there any doubt," asked Fenton slowly, -"as to the accession of Olga to the throne?" -</p> - -<p> -"No," replied Varden. "But these are parlous -times, Don. The new ruler is a woman, and -there are some ambitious men at the head of the -state at present. I have no doubt that Danilo -Vanilis would not scruple to sweep her aside and -seize the vacant throne himself if it were not for the -fact that there are several others quite as ambitious -and almost as powerful as himself who wouldn't -stand by. Dynasties are unstable things in the -Balkans, Don. Still, I am counting on the mutual -jealousy of the leaders to provide the means for -Olga to step quietly into her rights." -</p> - -<p> -Fenton straightened up. In the face of this hint -of a possible plot against the woman he loved, all -mental uncertainty vanished. -</p> - -<p> -"Is there anything I can do?" he asked. -"Nothing must stand between the princess and -her rights. If money would be any inducement to -quiet these trouble-makers, I'm willing to -contribute all that I have." -</p> - -<p> -"Quite unnecessary, Mr Quixote," said Varden. -"There is a powerful faction to watch the interests -of our little Olga. Never fear, she shall be Queen -of Ironia." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap27"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XXVII -<br /><br /> -A LETTER OF FAREWELL -</h3> - -<p> -Fenton sat on a camp stool beneath the sloping -sides of a canvas tent. Gusts of wind found their -way inside, causing the candle that stood on a -small table beside him to flicker uncertainly. -Outside could be heard the even tramp of a sentry, and -at rare intervals the thud of horses' hoofs. From -a distance came the steady rumble that told of -transport wagons on the move. Fenton wore the uniform -of a cavalry officer. -</p> - -<p> -Two days had passed since the death of King -Peter, interminable days of torture and mental -travail to the young Canadian. From the moment -that Varden had spoken the fateful words, "Peter -is dead," Fenton had in a vague way realised the -duty that lay before him; although it was only -after a long struggle with the promptings of his -love that he had bowed to the inevitable. Olga -was now Queen of Ironia. A great and shining -future was before her. An empire lay within her -grasp. What part could he, an alien and a -commoner, expect to play in that future? True, she -had married him, but when matters of state were -hanging in the balance, a gipsy marriage over the -tongs would be counted of little consequence. It -could easily be set aside. In any case, who were -there who knew of that romance of the hills? -Anna Petrowa and Crane shared the secret with -himself and Olga—no one else—and they would -say no word. -</p> - -<p> -He must go away. If it were deemed necessary -to resort to the church for a proper dissolution of -the bonds, he would render every assistance in his -power. But this perhaps would not be necessary—for -he was going to the front, a soldier of Her -Serene Majesty, Queen Olga. That there was no -other course open to him was quite clear. His -presence would distress her, render the part she -had to play more difficult for her. To save her -the painful task of breaking off the relationship -between them, he must go. -</p> - -<p> -The two days had been busy ones, which was -fortunate, for his mind had been kept occupied. -He had been given a post in a cavalry brigade. -With an almost savage absorption he had plunged -into the stern duty of fitting himself for the work -at the front. With grim but keen anticipation he -had practised with the finely balanced sabre and -the brace of revolvers that constituted his -implements of warfare. No trooper rides in the charge -with more reckless daring and insatiable determination -than the man whose heart is filled with a -tragedy of love. Fenton would undoubtedly prove -a first-class fighting man. -</p> - -<p> -That day at noon he had seen Phil Crane off -with the artillery. The voluble Englishman had -some knowledge of guns, and nothing would satisfy -him but a post with the very first batteries that -lumbered off for the front. Accordingly, being a -most arrogant fellow, as has perhaps already been -demonstrated, Crane had bluntly informed Anna -of his intention of marrying her before leaving, and -had then dragged her off to a church; the little -dancer, truth to tell, being quite willing, under a -pretence of reluctance. Fenton had witnessed the -ceremony. He had again impressed upon them -both the necessity for silence on the score of what -had happened at the Hawk's Rest, and then had -ridden back to the camp, which had been established -outside Serajoz, with a careless: "I'll see -you up at the front, Phil." -</p> - -<p> -In the dim and guttering light of the candle, -Fenton was writing. With many long and painful -pauses he worked, until finally the letter lay -before him completed. He read it over to himself -again, considering each word and phrase: -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -"MY DEAREST,—I am addressing you as my -heart dictates for the last time. For this I humbly -crave your forgiveness. Perhaps, as this is the -last message that can pass between us, you will -condone my offence. I leave to-morrow for the -front. We shall never see each other again. -</p> - -<p> -"There is so much for you to forgive. My -failure to save your father has weighed heavily -upon me, and I realise how deeply you must feel -the consequences. I tried my best—and, in the -light of subsequent events, it has seemed to me that -the hand of Fate intervened. It was God's will -that you should rule over Ironia. -</p> - -<p> -"A throne now separates us, and, my dearest -wife (I cannot help so calling you), I realise fully -what must be done. I bow to the inevitable. If -the difficulties of your position in view of what -transpired in the hills, have added to the measure of -your sorrow, I want to give you complete assurance -on the score of my acceptance of the part that has -devolved upon me. If legal proceedings are -necessary, I shall lend every assistance. But I do -not think it will come to that. Heavy fighting is -ahead of us, and I may be fortunate—— -</p> - -<p> -"I cannot find words to express the depth of my -love for you. My darling! My bride! It is hard -to give you up! But to have won your love, if -only to lose it, is greater fortune than I deserve. -The memory of your love will remain with me to -the last. It provides me now in the depth of my -despair with a wonderful solace. I have known -greater happiness than ever before fell to the lot -of man—and with that great thought stored in my -mind I face the future—whatever it holds—with -courage. I surrender you to a brilliant future, -Olga, Queen of Ironia. May it be as happy as it -will be illustrious.... I know that sometimes -you will think of me. -</p> - -<p> -"And so, my wife, good-bye. -</p> - -<p> -"Henceforth I shall be a soldier in your army. -Your Majesty will have none more loyal and -respectful. If I die in your service—I can think of -no greater end. If I live, I shall stand ready to -come from any place in the wide world at your -bidding. If it should come about that you ever -need me, all that I have, my life, will be at your service." -</p> - -<p class="thought"> -***** -<br /> -</p> - -<p> -The letter on its way, Fenton gave himself up -to a hopeless train of reflection. He saw Olga -again as on the first time that they had met, -beautiful, stately, on the crowded floor of the -ball-room. Again he saw her there among the palms -as he hastily warned her of the evil that might -befall her father. Once more she stood, framed in -the doorway of Varden's library, the personification -of offended dignity. The scene changed and he -lived over the thrill of their first embrace. He -pictured her as they had stood hand in hand, -plighting their marriage vows over the tongs; and -finally he visioned afresh her surprise when she had -found him to be her husband—and he saw the -wonderful tenderness that grew in her eyes. -</p> - -<p> -He would never see her again! -</p> - -<p> -His vigil was a long one. Early dawn found -him, haggard of face and heavy of eye, staring -moodily across to the eastern hills above which the -rays of the rising sun heralded a new day—a day -devoid of happiness and zest, the first of an endless -succession of empty days. Fenton resented the -new day, for it brought him no purpose, no hope. -</p> - -<p> -An orderly came with a letter. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton took it. He knew what it was, and his -hand trembled. He had, of course, expected an -answer; in fact, he had satisfied himself as to what -she would almost certainly say. Her letter would -be dignified, tender, regretful. It would voice the -strength of her determination to devote her life to -her people; perhaps it would reveal something of -her love. And yet as he turned the note in his -hands the hopes and longings that he had spent -the night in putting aside trooped back and ran -riot through his mind. -</p> - -<p> -He opened it and read: -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -"Come to me at once.—OLGA." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap28"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XXVIII -<br /><br /> -THE REUNION -</h3> - -<p> -The body of King Peter lay in state. All the -previous day a continuous line of his mourning -subjects had filed past the royal bier to gaze for -the last time on the placid face of this King of an -hour, who had given up his life in their service. -Now the darkened room, hung with heavy curtains -of sombre hue, through which the light of the -early morning sun penetrated but dimly, seemed -at first glance deserted. As Fenton's eyes became -accustomed to the gloom, however, he made out a -slender figure in black standing on the raised dais, -her head pillowed on her arms, which rested on -the side of the bier. -</p> - -<p> -The quiet figure stirred at the sound of his -approaching footsteps. She raised her head, then -straightened up and stepped down to meet him. -Olga was very pale and sad of face, but a tender -welcome showed in her eyes. -</p> - -<p> -"You came quickly," she said in a low tone. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton had expected that the change in their -positions would be reflected in her attitude, so he -could scarcely credit it when, coming forward, she -placed both her hands in his and looked up into -his face with the same tenderness and infinite trust -that she had shown when they parted. -</p> - -<p> -"Olga!" he exclaimed, then stopped, finding -no words to express his emotions. -</p> - -<p> -"I received your letter last night," she went -on in the same low tone. "I had already made -up my mind, but your letter was a wonderful -revelation. My dear, my dear, I never thought—I -had not dared to think you loved me so!" -</p> - -<p> -Fenton had not for a moment allowed his gaze -to wander from her face. He noted with solicitude -how wan and pale she was. The intensity of her -grief showed in every line, but beneath it all was -the light of a great resolution that almost -transcended her sorrow. -</p> - -<p> -"Why did you send for me?" he asked. "I -didn't intend to see you again. I didn't want to -make it—the inevitable—hard for you." -</p> - -<p> -She nodded and pressed his hand gratefully. -</p> - -<p> -"I understood your brave purpose," she said. -"It spoke from every line of your letter. I read -it many, many times and blessed you for it. But -what you proposed is not necessary now." -</p> - -<p> -Fenton did not understand. He was frankly -puzzled at everything—her words, her attitude, -even her dress. From the first moment that his -eyes had rested upon her he had been aware of -some subtle change. Too closely absorbed in his -love and his loss for matters of detail to register -on his mind, he had in a general way realised that -there was something about her that was strangely -different. -</p> - -<p> -"What do you mean?" he asked. -</p> - -<p> -"I am not Queen of Ironia," she said quietly. -"I have refused the crown." -</p> - -<p> -There was a tense pause. -</p> - -<p> -Fenton gazed at her a moment in wonderment. -Then, as full realisation of what her statement -meant flashed through his mind, he drew her -hands to his lips with a gesture of passionate -gratitude. The unexpected had happened, a -miracle had come to pass. Olga would continue -his wife! -</p> - -<p> -"I gave my answer to the council an hour -before your letter reached me," she said with -quiet simplicity. "There was no question as to -my course when I found that acceptance of the -crown would have meant foregoing my vows to -you. Fortunately my decision was rendered easy -by the attitude of some of the members of the -council, who felt that the strong hand of a man -was needed at the helm at this time. Certain -ones there are, high in rank in Ironia, who would -not scruple to seize the throne themselves. My -father's loyal adherents supported me strongly -and urged that I should assert my right to the -throne, but I gladly, oh so gladly, relinquished -all claim. And so I am free—and your wife!" -</p> - -<p> -Fenton had sunk to his knees before her. -</p> - -<p> -"I can hardly understand yet," he said humbly. -"You have given up a throne—for me." -</p> - -<p> -"For love and duty," she replied. "I can be -of more value to my country now than had I -essayed to fill my father's place. With Danilo -Vanilis at the head of a provisional government, -Ironia will be sure of capable handling during the -times of stress that are ahead. After the war—if -personal ambitions can be kept in check—Ironia -may become a republic." -</p> - -<p> -"But—what can I do to compensate you for -what you have given up," cried Fenton. -</p> - -<p> -He read the answer in her eyes. -</p> - -<p class="thought"> -***** -<br /> -</p> - -<p> -There was a long pause. The silent presence -of the royal dead chastened the joy of their reunion. -</p> - -<p> -"Olga," said Fenton finally, "duty calls me. -In two hours my regiment leaves for the front. I -must say good-bye." -</p> - -<p> -"No, not good-bye," she answered, raising her -arm. "I too going to serve my country. -See—I go to the front with you!" -</p> - -<p> -At last Fenton understood the change in her -appearance that had puzzled him. She was -dressed in a plain black uniform, and on her arm -was the Red Cross. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> -THE END -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t4"> - PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN AT<br /> - THE NORTHUMBERLAND PRESS<br /> - WATERLOO HOUSE, THORNTON STREET<br /> - NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /><br /></p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Amateur Diplomat, by -Hugh S. Eayrs and Thomas B. 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